#delicate boy eric

[patchworkgargoyle]

oc fic: find the beat

Belatedly posted (but not belatedly given) in celebration of my good friend Simon's (@sentient-trash) birthday!! Featuring so many of The Scromie's oc's, but with a focus on his adorable delicate boy Eric <3

The Cast Eric: transmasc OMC, @sentient-trash Dominik: transmasc OMC, mine Tig, Charlie, Vinny: OMC, @steves-strapcollection Set within the early days of Gerry's peace of mind verse, and of the band Rake Rating: T || Words: 2,123 || CW: brief allusion to an abusive romantic relationship Very very vaguely inspired by this scene from the new Scott Pilgrim show, but it's still cute and y'all should watch it anyway.

Dom was bored. He sat on his speaker cab and silently re-tuned his bass while Tig and Vinny tried to hash out what exactly was making this song fall so flat. It was interesting to watch at first; Dom had written a few songs with Tig before they brought on Vinny, Charlie, and Eric, so it was refreshing to get new eyes on their shit. And he was still half paying attention, but now they were just going around in circles. Dom had nothing more to contribute, Charlie was distracted by his phone, and Eric was subtly bouncing behind his drum kit. They only had so much time left in the jam space. At this rate, they wouldn’t fucking get anywhere.

Tig had told him to be patient—with that irritating grin of his that Dom could never actually get mad at—because they needed to find their stride as a band, first. They’d only practised together three times—four, if Dom counted today. And sure, Tig was right. Dom knew it’d take some time before they meshed.

But he was fucking bored, and renting the space was expensive, and he was tempted to leave early so he could go home and curl up on the couch with Kez and some take-out while they bitched about some stupid reality show. Sighing, Dom checked his tuning for the millionth time, cracked his neck, and sat there getting more and more impatient as Tig and Vinny went round and round again.

“Uh…”

Dom’s eyes flicked over to Eric. He was the newest addition, though barely newer than Charlie or Vinny. They all knew each other through their sex work technically, but Eric rarely collabed and didn’t interact as much, so he had less rapport to ease the way than the rest of them did. He’d mostly been quiet, just following the basic percussion notation that Tig had thrown together for this song with a few nervous nods and not much to offer. It didn’t match his neon green hair and bright clothes. Dom was convinced Eric was going to ghost them or they’d have to kick him out for being too passive.

Eric tried to speak up again, another meek um that neither Vinny nor Tig heard. Dom rolled his eyes.

“Hey, shut the fuck up,” he said, much louder, at the two guitarists. Vinny scowled flatly, and Tig cocked his head, but they both, finally, shut up. Then Dom looked back at Eric expectantly.

“Oh. Uh. Y’know what, it’s not really important…” Eric mumbled.

Tig smiled encouragingly. “Hey, if you’ve got a suggestion, I’m willing to hear it. Getting real fuckin’ tired of being stuck on this song, so anything might help at this rate.”

Eric’s hands clenched and twisted around his drumsticks in his lap as he looked at the others. Charlie had put his phone away and nodded kindly, Vinny shrugged, and Dom leaned further into his hands propping him up on the speaker, his foot tapping restlessly. If Eric backed down again, Dom was going to suggest they search for another drummer after this.

He didn’t back down, though.

“Okay. Well, uh, I had this idea? For the drum line. I mean, yeah, of course,” he laughed nervously and waved his sticks in the air. “But at the second pre chorus, I thought I could maybe come in with a–” He launched into a wild drum fill, but acapella, miming it over the drums, that ran into a steady, faster tempo that would drive the song into something more energetic. Something fun.

Even though he wasn’t playing, just miming and mimicking the sounds, Dom could hear exactly what he was getting at, and how it’d fit the song. And exactly how he could add to it.

“Oh shit.” Eric immediately went silent at Dom's cursing, drawing his lips into his mouth and staring at Dom, wide-eyed. “What if after that fill I did something like–?” he said, and instead of playing it, he followed Eric’s suit instinctually, saying his part in key by onomatopoeia.

It was like the sun came out from behind the clouds when Eric perked up. “Yes! That’s great! So like–”

They did that for a good two minutes: Eric starting with the drum fill, then the two of them heading into that relentless beat, pantomiming all of it. They didn’t stop until Dom had the presence of mind to look away, doing a double-take when he saw Charlie, Tig, and Vinny watching them with amusement and he realised they’d been dah-dah-tsk!-dumdumdadum-ing and buh-nuh-nuh-boodleoo-ing at each other like fucking maniacs.

Tig turned to Vinny and asked, “You get any of that?”

“Kind of,” he responded. Dom still couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not.

“Must be the secret language of the rhythm section.” Tig winked at Dom and he immediately felt warmer, ignoring Vinny’s protest—“I play bass too, Faulkner,”—to fight back a smile, roll his eyes, and check his tuning again.

“I didn’t get any bit of it, but it was pretty fun to watch,” Charlie said with a grin, mostly aiming it at Eric, who smiled back briefly.

“Why don’t you try playing it?” Tig said, “See how it sounds?”

Dom shrugged and tilted his head at Eric. “From the top, or from the fill?” he asked.

“From the fill.” He sounded more excited, and confident, than he had all day.

Dom clicked off his tuning pedal, strummed his E string, and smirked when the speaker vibrated from the deep sound under him. At his nod, Eric counted down.

“Three two one–!”

A crash, and he was off. The drum fill was so loud, so full of energy, Dom was on his feet before he even realised. Eric's hands were a blur of perfectly timed flourishes and Dom felt a rush of excitement carry him through it and right into his cue, running in to join the beat with a flourish of his own. They were so immediately in sync that Dom bounced on his feet and shook his head, feeling the music through his whole body and letting it move him.

Glancing up at Eric, Dom blew his hair out of his face and grinned, wide and unable to be anything but genuine. Eric smiled back and twirled his sticks with ease, one after the other, not missing a beat. That confidence suited him so much better than the nervous smiles from earlier.

Two thoughts hit Dom at the same time when he and Eric started headbanging together:

Fuck, this was fun;

This was going to work out.

Holy shit.

They played through to the end, cutting off with a final, perfectly timed note, still smiling almost painfully wide, breathing a little harder. When Dom finally looked at the others, he caught Tig smiling at him too, with such a proud, relieved warmth that Dom felt that rush come back and he had to look away before he did something really fucking stupid. Instead, he concerned himself with the way Charlie was gazing at Eric like he’d hung the moon. Dom kind of felt the same in that moment, so he couldn’t really blame Charlie at all.

“You’re—that was fantastic,” Charlie said, a bit breathless.

“That was fucking awesome,” Tig beamed, “way better than before! Do you think you guys have it down, mostly? I really wanna try it with all of us.”

When Dom and Eric nodded, Tig, Charlie, and Vinny got set up again, and at Eric’s count, they all started the song from the top.

It was seamless. There were mistakes and kinks to work out still, but the song sounded great, better, with Charlie’s voice, Tig’s riffs, and Vinny joining Dom and Eric to keep the rhythm steady, rounding out their sound.

Dom was hit, once again, with the feeling that this was going to work. There were few things he was ever sure about, confident in, but this was suddenly one of them. They sounded fucking great. There was no way they couldn’t get somewhere with this band. He didn’t care where it went, just that they saw it through to the end and had a fucking blast with it until then.

The rest of their practice went so smoothly that they didn’t realise their time was up until the next group opened the door, their knocking lost under the music. Tig did all the apologising while the rest started to pack up their things. When Dom heard the other group talking about how good they’d sounded, he smirked.

With his bass and cables packed up, Dom nodded Charlie over and asked Eric, “Want a hand?”

Eric glanced between Dom, Charlie, and his drums, stalling in the middle of putting one of his toms in its case. “Oh, yeah, sure!” He and Charlie exchanged shy smiles when Eric handed him the other tom, and Dom laughed through his nose as he dismantled one of the hi-hats.

“So, me and the guys were going to grab dinner after this,” Charlie began hopefully after a few seconds of busy silence. “Did you want to come with?”

The question made Eric freeze again, blinking at Charlie like he was shocked by the question, a small smile starting to tug at the corners of his lips. “Me? Y-yeah, that sounds–” He was cut off by a ringtone that made him flinch a bit before he dug his phone out of his colourful pin-covered bag nearby. The way he swore when he saw whoever was calling, like he’d been caught doing something awful, made Dom’s eyes narrow.

“Hey baby! I’m so, so sorry–” Eric said, the words a panicked rush. Dom couldn’t see his face, but there was an immediate tension in Eric’s shoulders, rising to his ears and making him look too small. All of the confidence and joy from the jam session had been sapped right out of him. The rest of the conversation was spent with Eric wincing and apologising profusely to a voice that sounded much too stern. Frowning, Dom caught Charlie’s eye, grateful to see a similar kind of suspicion reflected back, but they kept packing up Eric’s drums for him. If the unease and low simmering anger in his gut were right, Dom guessed Eric was about to make a swift exit.

“I know. Yeah, I kno—sorry. It’s my fault, I didn’t see– ...sorry, baby. I’m coming home right now, I’ll be home soon. …Uh, t-ten minutes? I think? No, yeah, ten minutes. I know. Okay. Bye, love you.” Hanging up, Eric visibly swallowed before facing Charlie and Dom again. Dom wasn’t certain, but he thought that Eric wasn’t able to look at Charlie now. “Sorry, guys, I gotta go. My boyfriend’s worried about how late I am,” he said.

Dom was starting to really fucking hate the word “sorry” coming out of his mouth.

“It’s okay, Eric. We can get you packed up and out of here,” Charlie offered, and Eric thanked him while looking at the floor.

“We’ll all go for dinner next jam night,” Dom said like it was already planned, and though a part of him did not want to, he added, “bring this boyfriend along if he’s that worried about you staying out late.”

Pursing his lips, Eric hesitated, then gave a jerky nod. “Okay, I’ll ask him.” Too many alarm bells were going off in Dom’s mind for him to miss the implications behind that.

The three of them got Eric packed up quickly, and as they carried his kit to the door, Tig asked, “Heading out already? We were gonna get a bite to eat if you wanted–”

“Sorry, I have to go! But thank you!” Eric apologised again. “And thanks so much for the jam night, I really had a lot of fun.” He flashed them all a slightly less harried, more sincere smile, once they’d gotten all of his kit in his car, and with a final wave from the window, Eric drove off.

Vinny joined Charlie, Tig and Dom at the doorway. “That was fucking weird,” he said, slinging his guitar case over his shoulder.

“His boyfriend called, but the way Eric was talking to him sounded like he was being fucking reamed out by a shitty parent,” Dom sneered. Charlie, who was still watching the spot where Eric’s car had disappeared, hummed in a flat, displeased tone.

Tig’s mouth twitched downwards as he crossed his arms. “Maybe we’re overreacting,” he suggested, but even he didn’t sound convinced of it. Then, tilting his head, he said, “We should meet him though. Just to be sure.”

“Already told Eric to bring him to dinner next time,” Dom said, and Tig laughed, but there was something sharp about it.

“Good.”

Divider by @/saradika

[nerdy-novelist017]

Borrowed Bites (Eric Draven x Rebel!Reader pt 2)

Added another part since the last one was received so well! Thank you for the kind words and appreciation! I'd LOVE to hear your thoughts on this part! 💕

Eric Draven Masterlist

Word Count- 2.9k+

Summary- He just couldn't get away from you. You were corrupting his routine, his life, his thoughts.

Eric sought refuge in the library, a quiet sanctuary where the weight of the facility’s sterile air seemed to lift, just a little. The room was a cocoon of silence, the faint scent of old, yellowed books filtering through his senses. Here, amid the shelves of dusty volumes, he could be transported to somewhere else, somewhere where the walls were not closing in on him little by little every day. 

He was supposed to be assigned to cleaning the room for the next hour, but he was finished within the first 30 minutes, so now he sat in the aisle, leaning up against the shelf. He was lost in the pages of an old art book, the kind that made him ache for life outside of these walls. He was staring at a particular page of a charcoal drawing of a horse, the scene bringing back his own past in a swirl of paint strokes, charcoal lines, the delicate dance of light and dark. 

But that moment was shattered by the sound of the door opening and footsteps approaching him. His heart sank, a heavy stone sinking into the pit of his stomach. He didn’t need to look up to know who it was. The air around him seemed to buzz with a familiar energy, one he had been trying – and failing – to avoid. 

“You hiding out in here, artist boy?” your voice broke through the stillness of the room, a playful tone that underscored something sharper, something that pricked at his defenses. 

Eric’s eyes glanced up, catching just a brief look at your face above him before dropping back to the book in his lap. He knew by just the few times of your interactions since your arrival to the facility a week ago, that his disinterest would not be enough to make you go away. No, it seemed that you could not take a hint, no matter how obvious it was. 

“This place is a real snoozefest,” you said as you lowered yourself on the floor in front of him, sitting cross-legged. You leaned forward on your hands, trying to peer at his book. “I didn’t peg you for the library type.”

“It’s quiet here,” he muttered, his voice almost devoid of emotion. “That’s why I like it here.”

“And here I thought you came for the thrilling company,” you teased, your voice taking on a hint of something more – a curiosity perhaps, or an understanding that he didn’t want you to have. 

“Shouldn’t you be off trying to seduce the guards?” he bit back, referencing your words from his first unwanted interaction with you. 

You grinned mischievously as you brushed a strand of your unruly hair out of your face. “I’m still working on that, don’t you worry.”

“I’m not interested,” his fingers tightened around the edges of his book as he spoke with a certain level of finality, attempting to completely sever the connection you were trying to forge. 

“Not interested in what?” you pressed, tilting your head in a way that Eric came to understand as you attempting to figure him out, like you were trying to put together the puzzle pieces of his mind. 

He hesitated, the question catching him off guard. He didn’t know how to answer, how to articulate the mind-jumbling swirl of emotions inside him. He finally grumbled, “In whatever game you’re playing.”

A brief flash of hurt flickered across your face, so quick that he almost missed it. But then you recovered with that infuriating grin. “Who says I’m playing a game?”

Uncomfortable with that reaction, his gaze fell back down to his book, as if the words would allow him an escape of whatever trap you were setting. “Just leave me alone.”

But of course, that wasn’t enough to deter you. You weren’t the type to back down so easily. Instead, you leaned back against the opposite shelf from him, folding your arms as if preparing for a long conversation he had no interest in having. 

“You know,” you started, your voice a touch softer now, “you’re not as invisible as you might think.”

Eric’s jaw tightened, the words hitting him hard. He had spent so long trying to be just that – invisible, a ghost passing through unnoticed. But you saw him, and you wouldn’t look away. 

“I’m not hiding,” he retorted quietly, but the words sounded hollow even to himself. 

“Then why won’t you look at me?” Your question hung heavy in the air between you, a challenge he wasn't sure how to meet. 

He forced himself to look up at you, your direct gaze sending his heart to his stomach. He refused to admit it, refused, but something about you drew him in like a moth to a flame, something about your eyes that refused to look away. 

“What do you want from me?” he asked, his voice low. 

You didn’t answer immediately, your gaze evocative as you studied him silently, as if searching for something beneath the surface. “I want to know you,” you said finally, the simplicity of the words cutting through him. 

Eric stared at you, his mind racing to find a response to that strange statement, something that would push you away, make you see that there was nothing worth knowing in him. But all he could manage was, “Why?”

“Because,” you said as you leaned forward slightly, your voice barely above a whisper, “you’re different. I can tell.”

He didn’t know what to say to that, didn’t know how to respond to the sincerity in your voice. The way you seemed to genuinely care unsettled him, the way you saw him and refused to let him fade into the background like he wanted. 

“You don’t know me,” he said after a moment, his words heavy with frustration and something else that he didn’t want to examine too closely. It was the same words he had told you a week ago when you first spoke to him and flipped his world upside down, but he couldn’t find anything else to say to you. You didn’t know him, that was true. But you definitely wanted to fit yourself into his life, to know him as he knew himself. 

“I think you’re worth figuring out.” A small smile tugged at your lips.

He wanted to scoff, to brush off your words as naive and misguided, but there was something in your tone, in the way you were looking not just at him but through him, made it impossible to miss. You were being sincere, and that shook him to his core.

“I’m not,” he retorted, his voice weaker than he intended. “I’m just another screw-up, just like everyone else in here.”

You shook your head. “I don’t think so. I think you’re more than that.”

He didn’t know how to respond to that, didn’t know how to process the unfamiliar warmth swirling in his chest. All he knew was you were getting way too close, digging too deep into feelings he’d locked away a long time ago. He reached for the book, flipping it open to a random page in a futile attempt to avoid your intense gaze. But the words on the page blurred, the images that had once brought him comfort now seemed distant, unreachable. 

Before you could say anything else, the sound of the door opening again startled both of you, shattering the temporary bubble you were enclosed in, and Eric looked up just in time to see a guard round the corner of the aisle, his heavy footsteps thudding on the worn carpet. He instantly sat up straighter, his heart racing slightly when the guard’s eyes caught sight of the two of you. 

“What are you doing in here?” The guard’s voice was a harsh intrusion, his gaze narrowing between you like a hawk sizing up its prey. 

Eric shot you a nervous glance your way. To anyone else, your expression would have looked completely neutral as you regarded the man nearing you both, but Eric could see the tension in your jaw, the way it ticked ever so slightly, betraying the anger brewing just beneath the surface. 

“I’m not doing anything,” you replied casually, almost dismissive. But the guard’s wasn’t in the mood for games. He cut you off before you could say anything more.

“You know the rules,” he barked, his voice echoing in the stillness of the library. “No fraternizing.”

You put your hands up in mock surrender, a gesture that might have seemed playful if not for the sarcasm dripping in your voice as you replied, “Yeah, right. God forbid anyone make any friends in here.”

The guard’s gaze darkened, his eyes narrowing to slits. Without warning, he grabbed your arm and yanked you to your feet with a roughness that made Eric flinch  “You’re not here to make friends. You’re here to get sober and stop being a burden and a piece of shit to society.” 

The harsh words hung in the air like poison, their words seeping into the cracks the moment. Eric felt a surge of panic in his chest as he snapped the book shut, the sound like a gunshot in the tense silence. He stood quickly, instinctively knowing it was best not to argue, not to escalate the situation further. Just follow the rules, he told himself, a mantra he clung to since he got here. But he knew you well enough now that you wouldn’t – couldn't – do that.

“Wow, tell me how you really feel about it,” you shot back, your voice clouded with defiance. 

“You think this is funny?” The guard hissed, his voice dropping to a menacing low. “Keep running that mouth and you’ll find out just how serious we are.”

For a brief moment, Eric saw a flicker of something in your eyes – a flicker of doubt, maybe even fear – but it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by the same defiance that both worried and awed him. 

Eric felt the weight of the moment bearing down on the room, the oppressive atmosphere of the facility closing in. He knew he should say something, do something to alleviate the tension, but the fear of the repercussions, of going back to solitary confinement, held him back, rendering him silent and still. 

“Come on,” the guard snapped, pulling you towards the door. “We’re done here.”

As you were dragged away, you cast one last look over your shoulder to Eric, and he could see the mix of emotions in your eyes – anger, frustration and something that resembled regret. And Eric’s chest tightened at the sight because you weren’t just leaving as you always did. You were being taken away, and he was powerless to stop it. 

The door slammed shut behind you, and the silence that followed was deafening. Eric stood frozen, staring at the spot you occupied just moments before, his mind racing. He gripped the book in his hand with a white knuckle power as he realized he had let the guard take you without so much as lifting a finger, without saying a word. The realization twisted like a knife in his gut, a painful reminder of his own helplessness. 

*****

Eric didn’t see you for the rest of the day. He tried not to think about how he even noticed your lack of presence and especially how it made him feel. The day passed with the same level of dreadful monotony that he had been subjected to since the very first day he’d arrived in this hellhole. 

It wasn’t until lunchtime the next day until he saw you again. The cafeteria thrummed with the repeated sounds of everyday life here – the clatter of trays connecting, the gentle murmur of quiet conversation, the sporadic eruptions of laughter or from souls lost in their own struggles. Eric sat by himself at a table near the corner of the room, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the edges of his tray as he picked at the array of bland, tasteless food before him. The harsh fluorescence above cast a stark, unforgiving light over everything, rendering the room devoid of any warmth. 

He was halfway through forcing another bite of the food when you suddenly materialized across the expanse of the bustling room. You slid into the seat across from him, a mirthful grin on your face. 

“Did you miss me, artist boy?” you asked with a tilt of your head, that signature smirk playing across your lips.

He wasn’t going to answer that, not even for himself. He averted his gaze to his tray instead, afraid that you would be able to read through his expressions as you so often did. That didn’t seem to bother you though because without hesitation (or permission) you reached over and swiped a roll from his tray, taking a bite as if it was casual. 

“Hey,” Eric protested softly, though his voice lacked any true anger, more like mild annoyance. In fact, he was actually relieved to see you, no matter how much he wanted to deny it. There was a brief moment last night as he lay awake in his bed going over the interaction of the library when he wondered if you had been locked in solitary for your actions. He didn’t think you had said or done anything to warrant such an offense, but you were unpredictable. He had no idea if you continued to fight, to mouth off after the guard dragged you away. Seeing you here in front of him was confirmation that, for once, you had refrained from doing anything to further your punishments here. 

“What?” you asked with a nonchalant shrug. “You weren’t eating it.”

Eric rolled his eyes, a silent gesture of exasperation. “You could’ve just asked.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” You quipped as you leaned back in your seat, your gaze sweeping across the room as if you were just examining the scene before you, waiting patiently for something – anything – to disrupt the routine. 

He watched you for a moment, captivated by the restless energy that perpetually seemed to follow you. It was as though you were perched on the edge of some unseen cliff, ready to plunge off the side at any given moment. The near constant state of heightened alertness was both exhausting and irresistibly captivating for him, an anomaly that left him simultaneously drained and drawed in. 

“Why do you do that?” he asked suddenly, the question catching himself off guard, and he instantly wanted to take it back. 

“Do what?” you replied smoothly, not missing a beat. 

“Act like . . . I don’t know. Like nothing matters.”

You blinked at him, momentarily taken aback. Then you smiled and with a half shrug, responded, “Because it doesn’t. 

But Eric could see the flicker of something more profound, a bit sad even in your eyes, and it casted doubt in the authenticity of your words. 

“Right,” he muttered, his voice laced with skepticism. Your gaze left his and he took that as a sign of your wanting to drop the subject so he returned to his food, though his appetite was severely diminished. 

For a while, silence enveloped the two of you. It was a surprisingly comfortable silence, albeit still surrounded with the rest of the cafeteria buzz. When he glanced back up at you, he could see the sudden change in your eyes as you glanced about the room once again. He had witnessed that look before – one that usually preceded your reckless actions, the calm before the storm. 

“Don’t,” he said quietly, his voice heavy with caution.

You turned your attention back to him with a look of feigned innocence. “Don’t what?”

“Whatever it is you’re thinking of doing,” Eric replied, his tone now carrying seriousness. 

A familiar spark of chaotic energy ignited in your eyes as you grinned. “What makes you think I’m planning something, Eric?”

“Because you always are.”

You giggled, clearly amused at his concern, and he tried to ignore the rush of butterflies that hit his chest at the sound of it. “Relax. I’m not about to blow up the place or anything.”

“That’s not comforting,” he muttered, though the faintest hint of a smile betrayed his true feelings. 

Before you could respond with yet another one of your signature quips, a guard ambled by, scanning the room with hawkish vigilance. You immediately straightened up, your playful grin fading as you donned a more neutral, guarded expression. 

As the guard continued his stroll, you leaned forward, your voice dropping to a conspiratorial low. “Meet me by the west wing storage closet after lunch.”

Your tone left no room for negotiation or refusal, but Eric hesitated, a storm of instincts battling within him, urging him to resist. But there was something in the way you looked at him – something that compelled him to nod reluctantly. 

You shot him a quick, satisfied smile before rising gracefully and sauntering away, leaving Eric alone once again with a whirlwind of emotions and a nagging feeling that he was about to be pulled into something he would regret. Yet, despite the better judgment that screamed caution, he knew he would go. Because as much as you exasperated him, left him bewildered, and sometimes even frightened him, there was a part of him that was irresistibly drawn to you. A part that yearned to unravel the mystery of why you were the way you were. 

"Fuck," he murmured under his breath.

-Tag List-

@redwitchbitch1 @marshm3770fluff @one-of-thewalkingdead @rubyfruitjungle @mrsvalbaker @m00npjm @maimai-0603 @at-midnight @fandom-fanatix @spoiled-bat13 @alinahdee @a-differentbrandof-jeans

[mynameismckenziemae]

🕸mm’s kinktober 2024🕷

Monsterfucking

Bob Floyd x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut. 18+ only! MDNI!

🕸•🕷•🕸•🕷•🕸•🕷•🕸•🕷•🕸

“Come out, come out wherever you are,” Bob’s voice to your right makes your head whip that way in disbelief.

How is he that close already? He had to have started searching before the 2-minute headstart was up.

Or you’re not as fast as you think you are; which is very possible in the moonlit woods.

The light breeze is enough to make you shiver when wearing only a dress, but the looks Bob had been giving you all night had been worth it.

🕸•🕷•🕸•🕷•🕸•🕷•🕸•🕷•🕸

The Halloween party was a last-minute thing, so there hadn’t been time to get a costume. Bob had suggested he could go as a big, bad vampire and you his little innocent victim.

“Like Eric and Sookie,” he blushed when he suggested it, “you know from True Blood?”

With no other ideas, you agreed…even though you weren’t sure how your sweet boyfriend was going to pull off a dark, dangerous vampire.

Boy, were you wrong. Your mouth had gone dry when he rang your doorbell, wearing all black under a leather jacket.

Your nipples tightened at the hunger in his gaze as he took in your cute Mary Jane’s with ruffled socks, bare legs, and white dress. His perusal paused when he got to your nipples standing at his attention; lines of red staining the virginal fabric between them from the fake bite punctures on your jugular.

“Perfect,” he murmured, licking his lips.

“You even have fake teeth?” You asked, stepping closer for a better look, “Wow, they look so real.”

He’d caught your hand before you could touch the pointed canine. “Ah-ah,” he chastises you with a smile before kissing your wrist, “don’t touch, they’re sharp.”

Rolling your eyes with a giggle, you took his hand and led him down your steps.

The party might have been fun, but he kept distracting you with subtle brushes of his fingers on your bare thigh, the feel of his lips murmuring against your ear to be heard over the music, how he’d run his tongue over the sharp edge of his fake teeth.

All you could think about was how those teeth would feel on the delicate skin of your neck…

“Are you going to let me bite you tonight?” He asked on the walk back to your house, stopping near the woods.

An owl hooted nearby.

“Nope,” you slowly shook your head instead of nodding eagerly like you’d been dying to. He knew it too, by the way his lip quirked. “I’m a good girl, Bobby. Good girls don’t do that.”

“Well then,” he dropped your hand, “you better run.”

🕸•🕷•🕸•🕷•🕸•🕷•🕸•🕷•🕸

Adrenaline courses through your veins when a branch crunches under his foot less than 10 feet away from your hiding spot under a fallen tree and you fight the urge to run.

“You’re close. I can hear your heart racing,” he pauses and inhales deeply, “and smell how turned on you are.”

A whimper tries to escape your throat as you throb in response but you swallow it down while trying to keep from rubbing your thighs together for some much-needed friction. The basic white panties you put on to complete the innocent look are soaked.

Suddenly there’s movement from behind and you take off running as fast as your Mary Jane’s will take you.

Between your panting and the leaves crunching underfoot, there’s no way for you to hear if he’s behind you and it would be unwise to try to look away from the uneven cobblestone path.

Soon the woods grow thicker and you’re forced to stop as branches begin to scratch your bare legs. Resting with your back against a tree, you slow your breathing and watch for any signs of Bob.

But everything is still; the night is now eerily silent. No rustling animals, no chirping crickets, no fluttering bat wings.

“Bob?” Your voice sounds small and doesn’t carry.

A cold wave of terror washes over you when a hand covers your mouth.

“Don’t scream,” Bob murmurs, pressing your body back into the tree with his hips, making you whimper at the feeling of his erection against your stomach.

The hand not covering your mouth skirts up your thigh and he chuckles lowly when his fingers find the wet material of your underwear.

“I hate to break it to ya, sweetheart,” he licks the tears you didn’t know you were crying from your cheeks, “but good girls don’t get wet panties from being chased in the woods.”

Your eyes roll back as he begins to circle your clit over the cotton.

“Bet you’d let me fuck you right here against this tree, huh?” He gently pinches your clit once before he gathers the soaked material and tugs, ripping it like it was nothing once you nod. He fumbles with his pants for a moment before the blunt head of his cock nudges at your entrance.

“Ready?”

You nod again, looking up at him under wet lashes.

He looks like he’s about to devour you as guides your leg around his waist while you lift the other, crossing your ankles behind his back.

His other hand slides from your mouth to your hair as he pushes inside you, pulling your head back before he dips his head, the two pinpoints of pain from his teeth make you gasp, “Do I get to bite you now that I caught you?”

“Please,” you whine as he bottoms out inside you, offering more of your neck, “do it. Bite me.”

Your mouth falls open with a silent scream at the sudden, searing pain as his teeth sink in.

But before you can think to panic, the pain is gone; replaced by a feeling of utter euphoria.

You cry out weakly, the white-hot pleasure coursing through your veins as he drinks your blood while fucking you roughly is so intense you feel light-headed.

“Not sure what tastes better,” Bob rasps when he finally pulls off your neck, “your blood or your pussy.”

The blood coating his chin catches the moonlight before he captures your lips for a metallic-tanged kiss.

“I’ll have to spend some more time between these thighs before I make my decision,” he continues when he needs to take a breath, “Will you let me eat your pretty pussy? Huh, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you breathe, hardly able to think with how quickly your orgasm is approaching, “whatever you want.”

“Oh I want,” he assures you, angling his hips so his pubic bone catches your clit with each thrust, “but I need you to cum with me first.”

Even though you’re expecting it, the pleasure when he sinks his teeth in again overwhelms you entirely and this time, there’s no holding back your hoarse scream.

Bob growls low in his throat as he follows you over the edge, emptying himself inside you.

🕸•🕷•🕸•🕷•🕸•🕷•🕸•🕷•🕸

You look in the mirror the next morning in disbelief; your neck is unmarred.

“What’s up?” Bob wraps his arms around your waist before kissing your neck.

“I had the weirdest dream last night…”

🕸•🕷•🕸•🕷•🕸•🕷•🕸•🕷•🕸

A/N: Well, I tried 🤷🏻‍♀️ not sure if this counts as monsterfucking lol. But I hope you liked vampire Bob!

Tagging:

@lexixstewart

@dizzybee03

@its-the-pilot

@hisredheadedgoddess28

@atarmychick007

@littlezee80

@k-k0129

@phoenix-rising-starbird-one

@jessicab1991

@lonelysoul50

@landpiranha-blog

@fandomology101

@writtingrose

@rascallyrascalreads

@seitmai

[daisyvisions]

A Little Motivation - (e.s) | Pt. 2

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Pairing: Baseball Player!Eric x Fem! Reader

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Summary: Now that you have Eric’s undivided attention, he is determined to study hard and claim his prize. But will he be able to handle how hot his prize is?

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Word Count: 2.1K

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI), multiple male masturbation, oral (both m! and f! receiving because… it’s a 69 🤪), handjob, face riding, groping, some dry humping, cum eating, hickies, pussy!drunk Eric, reader turns Eric into a fumbling mess, praise kink mentioned, let me know if I missed anything. Proofread once.

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. A/N: Part 2 is finally up! Sorry for the wait y’all, but at least I didn’t leave this one dusting away in the WIPs. Consider this my advanced birthday gift to our puppy boy Eric!

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Network: @deoboyznet

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Read Part 1 here!

Ever since the tutoring session, Eric could not stop thinking about you.

The old image of you suddenly shifting into a new one as he replayed the chain of events that had happened hours ago. It was like you were a gift slowly unraveling in front of him. And he was eager to know what kind of surprise was in store for tomorrow.

As soon as he got home, he ran to his room and plopped down. Hastily unzipping his pants and freeing his aching member from his boxers to relieve all the pent up tension you’d given him earlier.

Spitting on his palm for extra lubrication before wrapping his hand around the base of his cock, gradually pumping himself as he holds your used panties in his other hand. Shoving the damp material against his face as he inhales the scent of you, wishing it was you that was bouncing on his length instead of his hand.

The blue balls you had given him was so bad, he even came thrice in succession. Continuing to fist himself after the first high came around until his body started to convulse after the third one.

He can’t recall a time anyone has ever had an effect on him like this. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s been in a dry spell for quite sometime, or maybe because there was something with the way your eyes bore deep into his soul. Or maybe even your teasing but delicate touches that sent shivers down his spine like no one ever had.

Either way, whatever trance you’ve placed him under he swore he never wanted to get out of it.

After rounds of relieving himself Eric was motivated to study hard for your next tutoring session tomorrow, something he would never be caught doing in a million years.

He was incredibly determined to please you. Not only because of the special reward you had promised him, but because there was something with the way you praised him that gave him a newfound confidence. Not even the compliments from his coach or the screams of adoring fans during games could compare to what he felt with you.

Eric leaned back on his chair for a moment thinking about it again. His heart fluttering against his chest as he replayed your sweet words of praise.

“I’m so proud of you!”

“You’re doing sooo well…”

“A little reward for today superstar, you deserve it.”

His mind started to drift as he thought about how your alluring voice would sound as you praised him for other things aside from school work. Thinking about the way your hands would slowly comb through his hair as praises turned into moans of his name. Chanting his name like an endless prayer while he had his way with you.

Eric shook his head and immediately patted his face to get himself out of the little fantasy brewing in his mind before his cock stirs in his pants again.

‘Keep on studying and you’ll get your reward tomorrow.’ He told himself.

This was definitely going to be a long night for him.

As soon as Eric rang the doorbell to your apartment, he was immediately greeted by the image of you wearing what he thinks was the most jaw dropping sundress he’d ever seen.

The way the fabric naturally hugged your figure, accentuating every curve that he never noticed until now. Not to mention how lightheaded he felt the moment he got a whiff of your perfume, slowly permeating his lungs as he stood there frozen like an idiot.

“Well… let’s get to it shall we?” You smile, already noticing the effect you have on him.

“Y-yeah. Yeah sure let’s go.” He stutters.

It was a good thing Eric studied the night prior, otherwise nothing would've entered his brain after reviewing with you for almost two hours straight (which was a new record for both of you).

“Wow, you went through the entire session without looking at your phone!” You exclaim as you close your notebook shut.

“What can I say? I love to learn.” Eric smugly says as he leans his back on his chair, raising his arms to stretch for a moment.

“Oh yeah?” You flirtatiously reply. You visibly see Eric gulp down whatever was stuck in his throat as his cheeks started to turn slightly pink.

You let out a small giggle as you pull out the mock test from your bag and slide the stapled papers his way.

“Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Eric nibbled on his nails as he anxiously watched you grade his paper. Nervously shaking his leg as you kept on flipping to the next page with no reaction on your face whatsoever.

As soon as you finished, you flipped back to the very first page and wrote down on the top right corner his overall grade and drew many stars around it. You looked up at him with the most breathtaking smile he’d ever seen.

“Good job Eric! You got a perfect on this mock test!” You praise him as you rest your hand on top of his and give a light squeeze. The small gesture making his heart flutter inside his chest.

“Almost seems like you studied before the session, hm?” You raise your eyebrow.

“Me? Studying outside our tutoring sessions? Pfsh-” Eric replies but refusing to look you in the eye.

You laugh at his reaction and it was like he was seeing hearts floating around you and the feeling of your warm hand still holding his was enough for him to feel a sudden throb beneath his jeans.

Jesus, keep it together Eric.

“So.. Uh… About that reward…” He inserts the reminder before any awkward air entering between the conversation.

“Oh. Eager now are we?” You tease as you push your chair backwards and stand up.

You walk over to him and hold your hand out for him, grabbing it and getting up from his seat as you lead him into the living room, instantly pushing his shoulders down as he plops onto the couch.

Eric doesn't even have time to process what’s going on until you suddenly straddle his lap, both knees resting at each side of his thighs as you lower yourself onto him. His hands immediately find purchase on the soft dips of your hips.

“For doing so good today, you get to choose what kind of reward you want superstar-”

You immediately dive into his neck, placing light pecks until they start to turn into lingering kisses. Licking and sucking on his pulse as you wait for him to tell you what reward he wants to cash in.

“H-holy shit-” Eric eyes roll back as he tries to focus on the softness of your lips kissing his sensitive skin.

You hold his hands in yours as you guide them under your dress. Guiding him from the globes of your ass to your inner thighs. As Eric explores the softness of your body with his fingertips, he lets out a deep groan as he discovers the fact that you were not wearing underwear this whole time.

God, you were going to be the death of him.

You feel Eric's bulge twitch beneath you, trying to hide the smirk growing on your face as you continue to leave red and purple marks on his neck. Who would’ve known how pussy drunk he could get?

“C’mon Eric. What will it be?” You mumble against his neck.

He tries to open his mouth to speak, but all the words just end up stuck in his throat as groans escape his lips instead. You pull your head away from his neck and move your face closer to his.

“Why don’t I make the decision for you, hm?” You lean to give him a deep kiss before pulling away, grinning from ear to ear as his lips attempt to chase after yours.

“Just lie down for me okay? Let me do all the work.” You whisper in his ear.

Eric whines at the lost of your body against his as you get off his lap. His eyes are focused on you the whole time as you instruct him to lie down on the couch, waiting to see what you’ll do to him next.

You straddle him once more, but this time sitting on his stomach as you face the other way with your ass in his line of vision. Eric’s not able to see what you’re up to, but he can definitely feel and hear his belt unbuckling and your fingers pulling the zipper of his jeans down as you free his aching cock.

He feels your hands slide into his jeans, his length throbbing in your hands as you continue to palm him sensually. You could feel your own core throbbing simultaneously as you play with him, hooking your fingers to the waistband of his briefs before completely freeing his member.

Your mouth waters at the sight of his fully erect cock, his pink flushed tip weeping with pre cum as it twitches on its own. Veins protruding on his length indicating how hard he is for you. You adjust your position, moving backwards to sit on his chest as you lower your head to give his mushroom head a few kisses and kitten licks.

The act alone already has Eric moaning like an untouched virgin. The way he could feel you kissing his member all over and lapping at his length slowly. But his eyes roll back as soon as he feels his cock suddenly enter the warm and wet cavern of your mouth.

“Fuck, just like that-” Eric mumbles as his eyes flutter shut. The way your mouth expertly moves up and down, almost as if his cock was actually inside your cunt. This was probably the best head he’s ever had in his life. His head completely in the clouds as you kept on working your mouth on him.

Eric instinctively places his hands to your ass, pushing the hem of your dress to your waist and exposing your naked bottom. The moment he opens his eyes, he’s greeted by the image of your glistening cunt inches away from his face. The sweet smell of your essence makes his cock twitch inside your mouth.

He wastes no time by pulling your ass closer to his face and immediately darts his tongue between your folds, lapping and sucking at your core as much as he can.

The feeling of his mouth practically making out with your pussy lips makes you suck him even harder than before. Muffled moans shared between you as you both busy yourselves with tasting one another.

You release his length from your mouth with a pop, continuing to pleasure him as your hand fists him up and down. Soft whines escape your lips as the tip of his tongue flicks your sensitive clit.

You’re so desperate to chase after your high, you don't even realize you’re starting to grind your core onto his face. The vibrations of his groans against your cunt making your walls clench at nothing.

Eric feels like he’s entered a different dimension. He’s never had a girl aggressively ride his face like this before. The way he’s starting to lose oxygen and taste nothing but you drives him closer to the edge of his own high.

You already know he’s close with the way his moans begin to stutter. So you take his length inside your mouth once more as you suck the life out of him and continue riding his face like there’s no tomorrow.

You both reach your highs together, his warm load exploding inside your mouth as Eric laps and sucks whatever essence comes out of you as if he’d been dying of thirst. You immediately get off his chest and adjust your position to face him, slightly giggling at his obvious fucked out face.

His senses come back to him as he starts feeling you grind your bare pussy on his strained cock, whining as soon as you stop rolling your hips and lean down to kiss him again. You smile into the kiss as you feel him throb beneath you. Tasting yourselves as your tongues intertwine for a moment.

As you break from the kiss, Eric looks at you with stars in his eyes. The way you seem to be glowing in front of him as you gently caress cheek. You give him a small kiss on his forehead as you smile at him before leaning close to his lips to whisper,

“See? All you needed was a little motivation…”

[retiredkat]

Great interview with Eric Bogosian

Vulture article

Eric Bogosian Would Get Naked for Interview With the Vampire 10:31 A.M.

Daniel Molloy is a fictional two-time Pulitzer Prize winner, bullshitometer, and sass-kitten, an aging journalist holding his own among monsters while conducting the titular Q&A at the heart of Interview With the Vampire. With clear-eyed wit and a dash of human vulnerability, Eric Bogosian gives Molloy a distinctly Anthony Bourdain–ish edge infused with notes of his own acerbic Talk Radio character Barry Champlain. In Anne Rice’s book and the movie that followed, Daniel Molloy is a cub reporter trembling over his tape deck. But in Rolin Jones’s brilliant AMC adaptation, which just wrapped up its second season, this isn’t Molloy’s first twirl around the vampire hoedown. The conversation takes place 50 years after that first interview ended in blood, gore, and sexual frustration (Luke Brandon Field plays the younger Molloy in flashbacks, including this season’s standout episode five). Now Molloy’s seen it all, has a loaded past with these vamps, and when he trembles, it’s from Parkinson’s, rarely nerves. Molloy’s the audience surrogate, cutting through Louis (Jacob Anderson) and Armand’s (Assad Zaman) competing narratives while ultimately shipping Loustat just like the rest of us.

This delicate dynamic got slammed into a concrete wall and lit on fire (complimentary) in the final minutes of the season-two finale, when Molloy was revealed to have been turned into a vampire by Armand, breaking the ancient vampire’s centuries-long incel streak. And boy, is it a reveal, with a cocky Molloy, riding high on his best-selling book, whipping off his sunglasses at night to reveal color-changing eyes while doing mental walkie-talkie with Louis. He’s even got a sick leather jacket to really hammer home that he’s a cool bad-boy vampire now. It’s an incredibly fun beat to leave this character on and opens up a world of season-three possibilities for Bogosian as a performer who, at 71, has always wanted to play a vampire.

Do you know how weird it is to be hitting record on my MacBook right now to interview you about playing a character who’s always hitting record on his MacBook to interview people?

It’s all weird to me. I’m from another century, so all these things are new to me.

This is suspiciously sounding more and more like an interview with a vampire by the minute! Which makes sense, considering where we last saw Daniel in the finale.

Since we have multiple narratives and jump around in time already, I don’t know where things are going. Personally, I’d love to see more of young Daniel, Luke Brandon Field. I think he’s terrific. I’d love to see more Claudia. I wonder whether vampires can time travel. I think they can move around in time. I’m not sure how much Anne Rice you’ve read, but Merrick can actually bring people back from the dead, so you never know.

What was your relationship to the books when you signed on to this show?

In the mid-’70s, when Interview With the Vampire came out, I was 20-something and reading that stuff and I loved it. Then I got distracted by life. When we started doing the show, I was going to read the first one again, but then I realized that the script and my character were quite different, so I thought, I better stick to the script.

However, I needed to know what happened next, so I started plowing through the books and it was amazing. The Vampire Lestat was a trip — that’s what they’ll be hitting next — and they just got trippier and trippier. I just finished the seventh, which puts all the stories together. I love Anne Rice because her imagination is completely unfettered and she plays with really deep themes in a way that’s not heavy. It’s not like you’re reading Ayn Rand; it’s more like Stephen King. She explores death in the guise of these vampires by asking, Oh yeah, you wanna be immortal? Here’s what immortal looks like.

I’ve always been a big fan of vamps. I lobbied Francis Ford Coppola to get a part in his Dracula in the ’90s. I guess I wasn’t a big star, so I couldn’t get a part in it, but he was nice about it and invited me to set. I’ve told this story in other interviews, but my wife was directing a play in Chicago, which, totally by coincidence, was written by one of our first-year writers. On the plane there, I was thinking about life, thinking, I’ve done so many things. What’s left? And I thought, Man, I still really want to play a vampire. And when I landed, I got a phone call: “Do you want to be on Interview With the Vampire?” At the time, it wasn’t like, “You’re going to be a vampire,” but I figured vampire-adjacent was good enough. And of course, it evolved, and as I got on set, Assad was explaining all of these things that were going to happen with my character. Sometimes I didn’t even want to hear about it because we never know what’s going to happen. There have been slight detours off the main story, particularly with my character.

What were those things you didn’t want to hear about your character that Assad was talking about?

I become, you know, under his spell in later stories, and there’s a whole relationship that goes on between us. I’m not entirely clear at this point how that’s going to shake out or if it’s going to shake out. I didn’t necessarily want to go waltzing into something where they were making me do anything weird or awkward or embarrassing to no particular end. I’ve done nudity and stuff like that a long time ago, and at 71, I’m not really big on getting naked and sexy onscreen.

However, having been around the genius of Rolin Jones for two years, whatever he wants to do, I’ll do it. When you’re around a master like this, it becomes a process of discovery. When I’m learning my lines it’s like, Oh, this is 3-D chess. There’s a lot going on here that I didn’t see the first time I read it. When I first got this job, I thought I was just going to be doing bookends every episode, like, “So, tell me the story,” and then it would be vampires the whole time, and at the end I’d be like, “Hmmm!” And then, “stay tuned for the next episode!” But Rolin had this idea from the beginning and it went deeper and deeper until it was insane by the end of the second season.

I would prefer not to be playing cliché. Sometimes I’m playing something that feels like a lot of other things I’ve done. Even in the service of a show that is terrific, like Succession or Billions, the things I’m doing on those shows are not things I’ve never done before. As a friend of mine said when I was doing Under Siege 2 with Steven Seagal 1,000 years ago, “They just want you to do that Eric thing you do.” My stage stuff is about being very big and very loud, and a lot of the stuff I do on-camera is like in Uncut Gems, being very angry and very broad. But this thing, particularly in the fifth episode, and going into the end — I have to go places that I’ve never gone as an actor before. The subtlety of episode five, where I am brought to tears, that’s new stuff for me, and I was really happy to do it. Not only working with Rolin and the directors but with everybody. The writers bring a lot of sensitivity, a lot of nuance to every scene.

I need to ask if you’ve seen this: Someone from the writers’ room tweeted a picture of a note card that was on the wall for episode five and it just says, “MOLLOY ASKS ABOUT 1973: DID WE FUCK?”

I love that beat. As much as I’m known for my verbosity, I love reaction stuff, too. Jacob and I are very in sync, and we’ve developed a good relationship. He’s not holding back, he’s not being cagey, and that allows you to trust the other person a lot. You’d be amazed how some actors … are actually not good actors. They’re thinking about what they look like and all this crap. Jacob can’t be thinking about what he looks like because sometimes he looks really nasty. He’s letting the emotions build out of him. And yet he’s always very adept at sculpting what he’s doing. It’s a great company. I never work with Sam, I just see him all the time on set, but that scene in the courtroom, and the scene in New Orleans … where’s that shit coming from? The emotion is wild.

You all have incredible chemistry with each other, too. Knowing where your character might go with Armand, or what other buried history may or may not also be between them, how do you play that dynamic?

In scripted narratives, you’ve just got to play what the script is doing and let the audience try to figure out the rest of it. On Succession, I worked with Sarah Snook, and her character was never clear until the end. They were making it very hard to figure out what she was thinking. And I don’t know that she always knew herself what she was thinking. She was playing the script.

There are a lot of ways to look at it, and ask, What’s really going on here? Much of it is the audience putting it together. They hear the lines, they see my face, and an older actor’s face kind of has a narrative built into it. All of it gets put together, and what you don’t know becomes fodder for your imagination.

And this audience has quite the imagination.

I’ve never been through this experience before, exploring where the audience is at. I’m reading a lot of the blogs, and they make a science out of it. Rolin gives them all they can eat in terms of details and Easter eggs that are blended into the story. I think like 30 percent of our audience is really familiar with the books, so they’re constantly checking back and forth between Anne Rice’s story and ours. So far, Rolin’s been scoring pretty well in terms of being consistent with the original material.

But again, Daniel is a whole different ball of wax. The Armand thing is interesting, because it goes into all kinds of fascinating realms far away and weird. I had to get out history books and start reading about ancient Kyiv.

The fans aren’t even just pulling from the books; I’ve seen some draw comparisons from your work like Sex, Drugs, Rock & Roll. They’re finding all these crazy parallels.

That I haven’t seen. The character in this show and me in real life have a lot of parallels. Just imagine young Daniel in the show, that was my life. The funny thing is when I used to write and perform these monologues, in my mind they didn’t have anything to do with me. And then last year, Andre Royo, who played Bubs on The Wire, did one of my shows, Drinking in America, onstage. This was the first time that I’ve watched my own solo show, and he did a great job. I started to understand the biographical aspects of these monologues. It isn’t until afterward that I can look at it and go, Oh right, this is about that. Rolin told me that they were always thinking of me for this role. He didn’t know me, so this was coming out of his enthusiasm for a movie I did 700 years ago, Talk Radio with Oliver Stone. That was based on a play I wrote for myself. What I write about has to do with a certain kind of narcissistic personality, which seems to be the theme of this TV show — they’re all narcissists in one way or another.

I’m fascinated by my character. In episode five, when he’s in San Francisco, he’s kind of a loser. That’s what Armand says: “You might as well die right now. Where’s your life going?” And yet Daniel has two Pulitzer Prizes by the time he’s an older guy. What is that about? I would almost not believe it except that it happened to me. I was leading a really dissolute life in the late ’70s into the early ’80s. I didn’t win a Pulitzer, but I was nominated in 1987 and continued to be, I guess, “successful.” So it makes sense that it happens to Daniel. But you can also ask, What motivates this? It’s a way of fighting against the world or maintaining your sanity.

I think I’ll continue to play with the push-pull of this guy if I continue with the show. In San Francisco, he says, “Make me a vampire.” Later in Dubai, he says, “No, I don’t want it, because I’ll outlive my children.” He’s going back and forth. Of course, what we don’t see in the last episode is how did he become a vamp? Did he say, “Yeah, I want to do it?” Or did he get drunk with Armand one night and when he wasn’t looking, he became a vampire? I guess we’ll find out.

I’m sure it’s the subject of dozens of fan fictions already.

I’ve gotten so close with Assad. We’ve enjoyed spending a lot of time with each other. But when he gets on set, he turns into a different person. That’s some evil shit going on there. The way he ends up in that last episode, kind of smashed, he put everything into that. It’s a lot of fun. I never got into this business to do anything other than make believe and pretend. I feel more whole when I’m being somebody else than when I’m my own self, so the more deeply we can pretend when we’re making the show, the more deeply we can get into all of this, the higher I get from it. And when you’ve got guys like this who are ready to fly, I want to go flying with them.

I know you said you don’t really know what’s happening next season, but I look forward to your vampire adventures.

Rolin keeps sending me notes saying we’re gonna have an amazing time when we start shooting again. I can’t wait. It’s just that there’s a whole formal process of how this goes, and I’m waiting for my engraved invitation from the King of AMC to say ���welcome back.”

[anyxis]

Pomefiore Mafia

Vil is publicly known as the Fairest Queen. After all, someone with as much beauty and perfection as him doesn’t deserve any other title. What people don’t know, however, is that everything needs a balance and, for all his perfection on the outside, he is the most disgusting person on the inside. Everyone who knows him personally wouldn’t refer to him as anything other than an unfortunately Beautiful Tyrant. His behaviour comes from his father. Don’t be mistaken, Eric Schoenheit is not a monster by any means, but he is indeed rich and Vil is his only child. After his wife passed away giving birth to his son, Eric dedicated his life to give his precious boy the world. Everything he desired, he would have. This did not do him any favours as he never outgrew it. Now, Vil is nothing short of a diva and, if he doesn’t get what he wants the exact way he wants it, you’re as good as dead. Vil never had to work for anything in his life. Like I said, his father would have given him the moon had he asked for it. In the exact same manner, when Vil wanted to take his father’s place as the leader of Pomefiore, he accepted immediately. However, this doesn’t mean that Vil was an idiot. Don’t ever mistake him for an incompetent because you will face a fate worse than death. No, Vil still grew watching his father working and he learned quite easily how to manipulate people into giving him what he wants. This combination made him unstoppable. If you didn’t fall to his silver lined words, you would to his silver lined bullets.

Rook is one of the things Vil wanted. He saw him work for Leona one day and decided he just had to have him. And so, he started to flirt with him, trying to get him to reveal his current situation in order to convince him more easily. He learned that Rook was part of a very big and very rich family. That he loved the thrill of the hunt and, because of this, had very little time for himself. These informations, however, weren’t coaxed out of him, as Vil thought. What Rook didn’t tell the pretty blonde was that he also tended to become very obsessive with things he liked. Had Vil not approached him, the chances of Rook kidnapping him to do whatever he wished to the pretty boy would have been extremely high. And so, it wasn’t hard at all to get Rook to leave Leona for Vil. Not that Leona minded. He had to admit he was quite freaked out by him and believed it to be good riddance. When he joined Pomefiore, he immediately became Vil’s right hand man, but, before that could happen, he needed a makeover. Vil refused to be seen in public with what might as well had been an animal. After helping make the new Rook, he ordered him to start taking time in making himself better, to which Rook had no problem obeying. After all, anything for his Queen. Following that, they were inseparable. They were always seen together to the point people started to speculate what might be going on between these two. However, no one ever dared question it, which was very wise. Had anyone tried, they would have quickly disappeared without so much as a trace.

Epel was yet another thing Vil wanted. However, he had also caught Rook’s eye way back before he joined Pomefiore. Indeed, Epel has tried to appeal to Leona, but he had never been given his chance due to his appearance. Pretty boy like him wouldn’t survive a week in the savanna. Or so they said. So, because of his petite stature and delicate features, Rook immediately took a liking to him. He kept following him around after Leona had turned him down. When Rook and Vil met for the first time and Vil decided to speak to him, he was actually planning on kidnapping Epel. So, one day, after joining Pomefiore, Rook asked Vil if they could get him. He had done everything his Queen had ever asked of him, surely he could ask one measly thing in return. Vil, at first, wasn’t too happy about it and even thought of killing the boy. He didn’t like the idea of sharing his hunter after all. But, after Rook told him everything he knew of Epel and showed all the pictures, Vil also took a liking to him. He wanted to take the poor little boy under his wing and show him the world. But, why would Epel attract Vil’s attention, you might ask? After all, what would a diva want with poor farmer boy with a bad mouth like him? Well, Vil wanted him for the exact same reason Leona didn’t. His appearance. He had learned early that the way you looked could change everything and that boy had the potential to become a menace. His little poisoned apple. When Epel was approached by Rook, he recognised him immediately and thought Leona had changed his mind. No need to say he was quite dejected when he found out he was being asked by Pomefiore instead. The pansy fancy pants did not interest him by any means, but money was money and he needed it. His grandma had fallen sick and he was struggling to take care of the farm on his own. Because of that, he had been trying to get the necessary funds to pay for the medical bills any other way and, having learned of the offer Leona had made Jack, he had wanted in on the deal. And so, he said he would only join if he was paid big numbers. He wouldn’t tie himself down to something dead when he needed money and fast. Money was, however, no object for Vil and Rook and, when they found out that was the only objection he had, they accepted with a blank check. He just had to choose the number and they would deliver. Anything for their sweet little boy. They also took it upon themselves to cover anything else that would be necessary to take care of his grandma and hired the necessary workers to keep the farm going even without Epel or his grandma. Needless to say, it was a deal set in gold.

[calmcoldevening]

Ashe Corven (The Crow) x reader

TW: hurt/comfort, maybe a little angst because of Eric, love triangle

for @violet-alessan-1999; I hope you'd like it, have a good day

Eric is used to your constant presence. There was something comfortingly pleasant and gentle about you that always made him come back to your gentle embrace. You've always been by his side for as long as he can remember. As a child, at school, in the moments when he told you about his girlfriend. And even then, when he was literally a living dead man, you did not disdain, but took him into your soothing gentle embrace, hugging him and stroking his tense back. Why didn't he notice before how delicate your hands are? Gentle touches? Warm skin? Soft smile? All this realization came over him like a wave in an instant. The young man pressed hard against you, burying his nose in your neck and inhaling the scent of such skin. You were always there for me, always taking care of me. Maybe it's fate? Eric only wanted you for himself.

Eric started giving you little little gifts and compliments. He talked about your beautiful eyes, like an inviting cosmos, and your delicate hair. The guy was often there so that you would never feel lonely and not be afraid of anything.

But you didn't care. You still saw him as your childhood best friend, your comrade, practically part of the family. He was like a caring older brother with whom you could spend a lot of time all day long.

It hurts.

The sun was hidden behind a gray mass of clouds, and a cold November wind was blowing through the streets. Although this city has always been very cold. The overcast, dreary sky was now perfectly combined with the greyness of the dirty streets and alleys. There was almost no one around, so you felt calmer than usual.

You buried your nose deeper into the collar of your hoodie, hiding your hands in your pockets. You walked straight at a slow pace, occasionally glancing at Eric walking next to you. He was smiling and telling you something very quickly and enthusiastically, gesturing actively. You liked that next to you he could openly show emotions. At least this way he remained in a certain mental balance after the death of his fiancee. You didn't blame him for the lack of visible grief for his beloved, after all, you knew that he had a big bleeding wound in his heart from loss.

Your feet moved almost reflexively along a long—learned road - you've lived in this city all your life. Suddenly, something slammed into you. You stumble back, but you grab it with your hands. It was a boy. Those big brown eyes looked up at you with curiosity and fear at the same time. He carefully clenched his hands into fists, squeezing out of himself in a quiet voice: "Sorry.."

You smiled, trying to assure the child that nothing bad had happened, but after a moment your eyebrows furrowed on your face.

This city has never been safe for people because of the large amount of crime. Especially for children. Especially such small ones. He couldn't have been more than six years old. His hair was tousled and his small lower lip was twitching nervously.

"Why are you alone here, mm?"

"..with daddy"

You gently squeeze the boy's shoulders and squat down to be about the same height as him.

"You're with daddy, eh? Where's him?"

The boy doesn't say anything, just looks at you with his big eyes and blinks slowly. Finally, when you wanted to ask the child another question, you heard a voice approaching. You lift your head up and raise your eyebrows questioningly.

"Danny! Why did you run away from me?"

The boy's head instantly turns towards the man. He was a tall and sturdy man with shoulder-length dark hair and soft features. The boy was clearly the son of this man, because the similarities in appearance were enormous, although the boy still looked more innocent. The child approaches his supposed father and asks for his arms, to which his father only smiles and takes his son in his arms.

"Thank you for finding him. I was afraid something could happen to him," the man says with a warm smile. The boy in his arms looks at you askance, continuing to hide his face on his father's chest. His voice is hoarse but pleasant, and his tired eyes look at you with an unusual kindness that is not typical of this city.

You nod in response, also smiling slightly and looking at the stranger. You were immediately pulled away by another hand. Turning back, you met Eric's displeased face. His lips were pressed tightly into a tense line, and his eyebrows were pulled down to the bridge of his nose.

"Let's go, Y/N. You seemed to need to go to the store, didn't you?"

"Yes, sorry to interrupt you," the man replies with slight awkwardness, hugging his son tighter, "Thank you again."

"Have a good day," you answer them after the man heads in the opposite direction from you.

***

Eric has been really obsessive lately. It was as if after your meeting with that man with his son, something turned him upside down, from which Eric became protective and almost controlling. It annoyed him when you were talking to someone other than him, when you were walking alone and all that. It's like he always wanted to keep you around. If at first you didn't blame him, then over time you began to worry about his behavior.

And so, during your next little quarrel on this topic, you left, slamming the door.

You walked slowly through the park, the yellow and orange leaves crunching unpleasantly under your shoes. The wind caressed his face, and his thoughts were somewhere far away. What was your surprise when you saw the same man on the playground, on one of the benches. He sat hunched over a little and looked at his son playing with other children with a tired smile.

You sat down next to me with your arms crossed over your chest. After all, right now all you wanted was to take your mind off the recent conflict with Eric. The man turned his head in your direction and his face instantly took on a surprised expression, and then some embarrassment.

"Oh, hello. I didn't think I'd see you again," he muttered with a slight smile that made slight wrinkles run across his tired face at the corners of his eyes. A few strands of dark hair fell carelessly over his face, but it definitely made him even more handsome.

"Yes.. I don't come here often. There are usually too many unhappy moms here," you reply with a note of displeasure, which makes the man give a light laugh.

"It's true... That's why we don't come here during the weekend."

An awkward silence followed, although it wasn't that unpleasant, it was more like each of you didn't know how to approach each other's huge wall of trust. Finally, the man holds out his hand to you with the same kind smile.

"By the way, Ashe. Ashe Corven."

"Y/N," you replied to the handshake, and you noticed how his tense shoulders relaxed a little. He turns away, muttering to himself something like 'beautiful..' At that moment, Danny ran towards you, his face instantly brightened when he saw you. The boy came up to you, putting his hands on your lap.

"Daddy, I don't want to play anymore! They are evil," the boy said with a slight resentment in his head, pointing at the other guys on the playground. Ashe sighed, his body returning to its former fatigue, and he got up from the bench, grabbing his son's little hand with his own.

"Okay, let's go home. Y/N, I'm sorry, what-" before he can finish, Danny is happily babbling, "Can Y/N come with us? I'll show you my drawings!"

The boy looked up at you with hopeful eyes. His eyes were blinking rapidly, and his lower lip was trembling in anticipation.

"I'm sorry, kid. But I still have things to do."

The boy's face visibly clouded, and the grip of his father's hand on his own became even tighter.

"It's all right. Take care of yourself," Ashe said in the most dispassionate way he could manage and walked with his son to the exit of the park. Danny turned back from time to time, waving at you, and smiling his slightly toothless childish smile.

***

About six months have passed since that moment. Spring came, and it was no longer so dreary in this gloomy city. You and Ashe have become quite close all this time. You often met in the most ordinary places, whether it was a park or a store near your house. The man was always friendly and pleasant to talk to. A couple of times he even brought packages home for you so that nothing would happen to you at night. Also, sometimes you sat with Danny when his dad had to work hard. The boy was very happy to spend almost the whole day with you, you played and drew. Out of the corner of your eye, you even noticed a small drawing on Danny's wall. There were three little men holding hands. 'Me', 'daddy' and 'Y/N'. On top was a large neat inscription "my family". You found out that Danny didn't have a mom. And although you knew that Ashe did not miss that mysterious woman at all, but fatigue and sadness were clearly expressed on his face for the fact that his son does not have a second parent. From time to time, Ashe would even give you small trinkets or flowers. Corny, but he always found bouquets that could 'highlight your wonderful eye color.' In each of his actions, you could read the cares and that cherished warmth that made your heart beat faster.

Eric gently touched your cheek with his hand, stroking your skin with the rough skin of his fingertips.

"What am I doing wrong?" He asked in a whisper, and you heard his plaintive voice almost crack.

"Eric.. I'm not her. I can't replace her for you," you replied. It sounded much more confident and convincing in your head. But it was true. You didn't know why, but you were sure that Eric still loved Shelly and saw her in you. It wasn't something external, rather, your kindness and demeanor gave him reason to think so. You loved Eric, he was your best friend since childhood, but it hurt that he only noticed you after the death of his fiancee.

Eric stepped back. His hands clenched into tight fists, causing his knuckles to turn noticeably white.

"You're wrong.."

"You know I'm right. I started living with you after she died so that you wouldn't be so lonely. But do you think I don't hear you crying into your pillow at night? Do you think I don't see how longingly you look into the coffee I make you in the morning? She was doing the same thing, wasn't she? Or with what pain do you look at that coffee near our house? After all, she loved this coffee. Just like me. But I'm not her, Eric. Don't try to replace her with me, please. I'm a completely different person."

It hurts. It hurt to say such words, but maybe it would have sobered his mind. Eric was like an older brother to you, and you didn't want to change that.

"You have magical hands," Ashe muttered sleepily, closing his eyes and smiling.

You were sitting on the couch, Ashe's head resting on your lap while you gently massaged his hair. He's been very nervous lately, so you decided to give him a head massage. The man smiled in a relaxed way, exhaling slowly and folding his arms over his chest. Danny was sitting by the couch, drawing another picture. He liked that you spent a lot of time with his dad. You were always kind and brought Danny a lot of sweets. The boy really wanted you to be with his dad, to live with them and be his second parent. You were nice and funny and gentle with Danny and his dad.

"Daddy, can Y/N live with us?"

Ashe visibly shuddered, propping himself up on his elbows and looking down at his son.

"What are you talking about, Danny?"

You giggled, seeing how the man's ears turned red.

"But I want to live together! I will be able to play with Y/N every day and eat sweets together!"

Ashe looks away, covering his mouth with his hand, and clears his throat, "Only if Y/N wants it..."

[tbzhub]

What Happens at Night

Pairing: vampire!Eric Sohn x afab!reader

Summary: You've got a thirsty boyfriend. Or do you?

Warnings: MDNI, very brief and vague mention of reader being on their period (very much alluded to I don't even use the word period) , smut, oral (f. receiving)

Rating / Genre: M, established relationship au

WC: 1000

Artist Note: Something short for October! @the-boy-meets-evil gracias for reading the first part!

Tagged: @deoboyznet @everynewie @gyupremacy

m.list tag list

You’d never seen your boyfriend like this, hands hasty and rough as he manhandles you away from your spot on the sofa.

“Baby, wh—

You get kissed into silence, and Eric’s cold hands smooth over your shoulders before they rest tenderly at the base of your throat. His fingers run along the supple skin of your neck, causing you to shiver as you pull away.

“Eric…?” you whisper, not particularly scared, but apprehension stirred within you.

“No, baby. Never. Am I thirsty? Yes, but that’s not what I want. ” He reassures, smiling warmly, and you see the very tips of his fangs peeking out past his lips.

His hand slides away from your neck and glides down your front. He doesn’t miss his opportunity to grope your chest on his way further south, squeezing both breasts before he puts his focus back on the task at hand.

“This is what I want.” He asserts, hand cupping your crotch, and your eyes go wide.

“Baby, but I’m still on—

“I know.” Eric cuts in as his fingers massage your fabric-covered pussy. You see his tongue dart out to lick his upper lip as if he’s about to have a heavenly meal.

This was something that you’ve never tried before. Maybe you should feel scared, letting a vampire go down on you during such a time… but Eric’s not just any vampire. He’s your boyfriend. He loves you, and he’d never hurt you. If this is what he wants, you’d be willing to try. You stare back at his piercing gaze. His eyes remain soft like he was your usual unassuming boyfriend. Yet, the curve of his lips tells you otherwise; all you do is nod your head once, and it’s like a switch inside him has turned on. 

Your lounge shorts get harshly pulled down your legs, and you nearly get whiplash as you try to keep up with Eric’s actions. He lies on the sofa, and you get jostled around until your plush thighs rest on either side of his head. You brace yourself against the armrest to regain your balance as your underwear gets roughly pulled to the side. His grip on the lace is tight, and he tugs on the delicate fabric to draw you closer to his face. 

Eric’s mouth is sealed around you as his tongue grazes through your folds, pulling a soft sigh out of you. A satisfied groan radiates through your pussy once you settle into his hold and put your entire body weight on him.

“I’m not hurting you am I?” You breathe out while looking down to check on him, and you get met with a glare that snuffs your concern.

He smacks your ass for added measure before closing his eyes, and his face shifts into the picture of satisfaction. His fangs tease your skin now and then as he eats you out lazily, and the subtle pricks spike your arousal. Goosebumps rise on your skin when you feel a more vivid scrape against your pussy, and you let out a shaky moan. Eric is beneath you, but you still feel utterly vulnerable to his will, trusting him to control his urges and resist temptation.

You watch his brows knit together as he delves deep, tasting you feverishly with wanton strokes of his tongue. He tugs on your lace panties, using them to lure you into a slow grind until you're riding his face. He crosses his solid arms over your thighs as he lets you use his mouth exactly as he was hoping for. Your hips move in quick thrusts, running your clit over the firm tip of his tongue over and over while his lips lewdly slurp up all of your pussy’s wetness.

His cool hands come up to play with your tits, fondling them as you rock back and forth on his face, beginning to search for that overwhelming feeling. Your eyes fall closed as you moan softly, and your hands card through his hair while you buck your hips rapidly before your voice gets loud.

“Eric…” 

You begin to chant his name repeatedly, getting louder each time as you feel your orgasm creep through your body…

“Eric!” You cry out loud, and your eyes fly open. Your bedroom blurs into focus, you wake up covered in sweat, and your breathing is ragged.

There’s no way that was just a fucking dream.

Eric’s voice cuts through the silence of your bedroom, causing you to jump as you shift to look in his direction.

“Soooo… What were we doing? Or rather, what was I doing to make you call out my name like that?” He asks with a snicker and a boyish grin on his lips.

Your face grows hot with embarrassment, and you sheepishly smile as the events of your dream replay in your mind. That was a great dream.

“Not telling.” You tease as he climbs on top of you, gracing you with his best pouty face, and you have to close your eyes to avoid giving in to his cuteness.

“Pleeeeease. I promise I won’t laugh. Maybe I wanna know so I can make your dream a reality.” His words drip with seduction, but you don’t fall for it, humming with a wide smirk on your face instead.

“Mmm… I don’t think you could recreate that dream, baby.” His eyebrow quirks up at that, curiosity mounting.

“Oh, come on! Now you have to tell me.” He begs, leaning in and kissing your temple while he smoothes his hand over your arm. 

He’s looking at you with those eyes that tell you he will flip you over and have you pressed into the bedsheets in five minutes flat. The cheeky glint in his eye matches the sexy curve along his lips, and you can’t help but give in.

“I’ll tell you while you fuck me. But we’ll need to put down a towel.”

“Deal,” Eric replies with a smirk, hands already grabbing at the hem of your shirt.

[itsbeeble]

Down? Astronomically.

Summary: Sangyeon doesn't like sweets. That doesn't stop him from visiting you and your bakery every single thing and leaving with the one thing he hates.

Genre: smut, fluff, mild angst

Pairing: idol!Sangyeon x bakery owner!afab!reader

Fic Warnings: Sickeningly sweet (bah dum tsss) fluff, strangers to simps to lovers, mild mild angst, mentions of food, Sangyeon's cringey as hell actually (like he's down BAD down bad)

WC: ~6.4k (oops)

18+ MDNI, AGELESS BLOGS DNI

SMUT WARNINGS BELOW THE CUT

Smut Warnings: y/n definitely has an oral fixation, soft dom!Sangyeon, pussy drunk!Sangyeon, y/n drunk!Sangyeon (he’s down astronomically bad your honor), he’s like obsessed with everything about her, public sex (they fuckin in the bakery 💪 but it’s closed and the lights are (mostly) off lmfao), standing by big dick!Sangyeon until the day I die, hair pulling, tummy bulge bc why not, lowkey size kink hdjgfsj, uhhhh p in v sex (protected. yall better wrap that shit); i think that's it but lmk if i missed anything.

A/N: 5 months and 6.4k words later and this sangyeon rec is done. anon i'm so sorry for the wait i'm so horrible. Also thank you to pookie (Fawn) for beta reading half of this but she had to bail and I told yall 3:30 so.... yuh. Also this is the first time I've written smut since Doll so please don't be harsh on me i'm sorry if it's bad

~

Sangyeon doesn’t exactly know when he started coming to your bakery. He doesn’t even like sweets, so why does he keep showing up in the dead of night and leaving with several boxes filled with sweets and a piece of cake stuffed into his mouth?

You.

Gorgeous, kind, brilliant, sweet, you. Coincidence? He thinks not. 

At first, he’d started going because Eric had recommended the coffee. And then he met you, stumbling out of the kitchen with a smear of pink frosting on your cheek, a dye-stained apron, and strands of hair slipping out of your tight bun and clinging to your forehead. He didn’t believe in love at first sight, but seeing you in that near-disastrous state, yelling at the poor cashier? God, maybe he should start believing. 

Down bad, Sunwoo had called him a while ago when Sangyeon had dragged him along on his nightly coffee trip. Down horrendous, actually. Sangyeon had forced him to carry all four boxes of treats you’d sent home with him, ignoring how the younger member of the group had whined about how sore his arms were going to be. No, he didn’t pay any attention as he sent the boy along. All of his attention was on you, watching you wipe down the counter and talk about how busy your day had been. 

In the end, he’d only left because Jacob kept calling, begging him to come back to the company to get the boys back in order. 

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite regular!” You’re beaming at him when he walks in the door, your hand placed on the shoulder of Hyejin, a younger and newer employee. You shooed her away, ignoring her questioning of who this mysterious man with a hat and mask on was. When the door to the kitchen shuts and you’re sure she isn’t coming back out, you circle the counter to stand in front of Sangyeon. “I’m assuming you want your normal order?” 

Sangyeon ignores the buzzing in his body when you call him your favorite.

Sangyeon quirks an eyebrow, and though his face is hidden for the most part, you can see his hat shift with the tensing of the muscles in his forehead.

“You have my order memorized?” His tone is teasing, and you feel your cheeks warm. 

“Well, I mean- you just- you’re here every day, and- and I just-” you stumble over your words, a low laugh from the man in front of you causing your cheeks to go from pink to red in an instant.

“I’m kidding,” Sangyeon promises, nudging your side with his elbow while he moves to the register. “I think I would be offended if you didn’t know my order by now.” You hum, a delicate and angelic sound that has Sangyeon feeling fuzzy. He forces the feeling away, tapping his card on the screen in front of him. It lags for a moment, and you awkwardly tap the screen to get it to move faster. Sangyeon smiles, watching you repeatedly try to tuck nonexistent hairs behind your ear. 

He leans forward, placing his elbows on the counter and peering up at you. You don’t meet his eyes.

“Do I make you nervous, Y/N?” You shake your head, and he clicks his tongue. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not nervous,” you insist, now slapping the screen, “this stupid thing is just- it’s just slow and I feel bad about taking up your time. I know you’re really busy-” 

Sangyeon cuts you off again. “I’m never too busy for you, cupcake.” You freeze, and the machine dings. Sangyeon’s eyes squeeze shut. Why the fuck would you say that? What moron says that?

“I-” you pause, drumming your fingers on the counter. “Your order will be out in a few minutes. Hyejin will bring everything to you.” 

He inhales, ready to apologize, but you’re gone by the time he can form words. The swinging kitchen door is his only indicator of where you’ve gone, and he mentally kicks himself. 

Across the counter, Hyejin clears her throat. 

“Iced latte for…Yeonnie?” Her voice lifts at the end, almost disturbed at the name on the cup. Sangyeon walks over, hesitantly grabbing the drink. “I’ll be right out with your boxes.”

“Not necessary,” he shakes his head. “I don’t need them-”

“Too bad,” the young girl purses her lips. “Y/N won’t let me leave until they’re gone so…”

“Oh…”

“Plus, I’m pretty sure she makes so much extra because you love her baked goods.” Hyejin stares him down, and he shuffles his feet. 

“Yep…that’s…that’s true,” an awkward laugh, “the one who really loves baked goods…” 

Sunwoo was right. He’s down astronomically bad.

~

“You’re such a fucking loser, you know that right?” Hyejin scrubs a baking tin furiously, grumbling about how these stupid drops of batter are gonna be the death of her. “Running away and giggling like someone my age because he called you cupcake.” You glare at her. She continues to scrub at the pan. “Do you even know anything about him?”

“Who even asked you?” His birthday is November 4th. I remember because he knew his friends were planning a surprise party for him.

“Nobody. I’m just the unfortunate soul who has to sit here and witness your gag-worthy flirting with Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Handsome.” You throw down your rag.

“I’m not flirting with him! He’s a paying customer!”

“Mhm. A paying customer who you wanna fuck sooooo bad.” She smirks at you, and whether mocking or not you know she’s right. Would you ever admit that to her face? Absolutely not. 

“You know what-” You pick up your rag and jab a finger in her direction. “If you keep this shit up I’m cutting your hours down.”

“Do that and I’m telling Yeonnie that you want him inside of you. Call it a taste tester or whatever.” 

“You know what,” your face is burning up again and your grip on the rag tightens. “Get out.” 

“Nope.” Hyejin sets down her sponge and smiles at you. “I’m not leaving until I’m scheduled to leave. Unless we finish early, that is. So you better make a plan to jump this guy’s bones before I help him instead.”

Your rag hits the ground, a groan rises from your throat. And yet…you can’t help the smile that pulls across your lips. You can’t help the warm feeling in your chest that blooms with every thought of this masked customer who only ever goes by Yeonnie, even if you don’t know what he looks like under that mask and hat of his.

~

“You called her what?” Kevin reels back, his eyes wide and his jaw dropped. Sangyeon cringes. 

“Yeah…”

“Why would you say that? That’s like…textbook ‘do not call a woman this unless she’s your wife!’” 

“You think I don’t know that?” Sangyeon flings himself back on the studio floor, a loud thump echoing around him. The other boys had left a few minutes ago, and, oddly enough, Kevin was the only one he trusted enough to tell this to. “God, I’m such a moron.”

“No,” Kevin coos. Sangyeon frowns, rolling his head on the ground to look at him. “You’re just a dumbass who-” Sangyeon flings his foot out reaching to kick Kevin. “Whoa, hey, let me finish!”

“You’re just gonna make fun of me!” Sangyeon whines. 

Kevin purses his lips.

“For a 26-year-old man, you sure are childish.”

“Are you gonna help me fix this or not, Kevin?”

Kevin hums. 

“Operation Sangyeon-does-get-bitches is a go!”

“Call it that again and I’m getting you kicked out of the group.”

~

“So,” Hyejin leans against the counter while you mix up the batter for a cake. “Has Yeonnie come in yet?” 

You purse your lips, carefully pouring part of the dry ingredients into the stand mixer. 

“He doesn’t come in until later usually.” 

“You must be so disappointed.” You don’t respond. 

Truthfully, it is disappointing. Sure, you know he’ll be coming in later on. You know that he’s likely going to be your last customer and for that, you’re relieved. However, the wait has you picking at the skin around your nails. Anxiety builds inside of you. Cupcake is what he had called you. Just a small amount of affection, and for that you had shut down. What if running away had sent the wrong message? What if he thought you hated him and were just being nice? “You shouldn’t stress so much,” Hyejin stops the stand mixer, taking the empty bowl of dry ingredients from your hand. “You’ll overmix the batter and then the cake will be gross.”

“A professional, are we?” A lighthearted smile passes over your lips. Hyejin shrugs. 

“I’m here to learn, aren’t I? I’m not gonna get through culinary school by working at a gas station.” 

“That’s true.” 

“Anyway,” she huffs and grabs a tray of macarons, “just remember the plan and he’ll fall right back in love with you. Guaranteed.”

“How do you know?” You pour the cake batter into a few baking tins, ensuring that all are evenly layered. 

“Have you seen how he looks at you?” She scoffs. “That man clearly couldn’t care less about the sweets you give him. He’s here for you and the coffee. Not the cakes or the cookies or the brownies. He’s here for you. No one comes in that often for some baked goods.”

Have you seen the way he looks at you? Yes. You had. Just briefly, though, when his hat had lifted enough for the light to pass over his eyes. The corners were crinkled, clearly smiling under the mask. You’d thought he looked so pretty, even if you couldn’t truly see his face.

You knew him as Yeonnie. That’s the name he had requested the first few times he came into the bakery. He didn’t give you a full name, and you joked that what he gave you sounded like something you’d name your dog. He’d laughed, and when he did it had been like the air was punched out of you. It was such a beautiful sound, and somewhere deep in your mind, you had vowed to make him laugh every time you saw him. 

Then he was showing up every day, asking about what didn’t sell very much that day. Every day he would buy them all. And every day, you cracked a joke that had you hearing that gorgeous laugh of his. 

Never, however, had he called you anything but your name. Maybe you cared a bit too much about what he thought of you. Maybe you cared a little bit too much about the smudges of frosting on your face, the sweat-slicked strands of hair that clung to your hair after being in the kitchen all morning and afternoon, preparing for the next day’s pastries. 

Never had you hidden from a man you loved, even if he didn’t quite know it yet.

~

“So,” Sangyeon leans against the counter, watching you get his drink ready. “Anything exciting happen today?” His hands are shaking, but he hides it by drumming his fingers against the counter. You’d been quieter than usual, ducking your head whenever he looked at you.

Now he was worried that he made you uncomfortable.

“Not really,” you shrug, cupping your hand around the rim of the go-cup to prevent too much splashing as you add a bit more ice. “It was kinda busy, but it was bearable.”

“That’s good,” Sangyeon nods, tugging his mask further up his face. He peers around you, squinting as he searches for Hyejin through the window on the kitchen door. “Where’s Hyejin today?” You shrug.

“I sent her home early. We slowed down a lot about an hour ago and I had already gotten a lot of things done so I told her to head home.” 

“So you’re here alone?” Sangyeon frowns. “That can’t be safe.”

“I mean…” you run your tongue over your lips, “I dunno. I do it all the time.”

“You shouldn’t.” Sangyeon frowns, “This is a big city, what if something happened to you?” 

“You saying you’re worried about me, Yeonnie?” You lean toward him, your lips twitching up. 

“Sangyeon.” He blurts his name out before he can stop it. You blink, your eyebrows knitting together.

“What?”

“My…my name.” He takes a deep breath. “It’s Sangyeon. Not Yeonnie.” 

You nod, frowning.

“Why didn’t you just tell me your name in the first place?” He inhales, shaking his head.

“It isn’t that simple, cupcake.” 

“Why not?” You drum your fingers on the marble countertop. “It seems pretty simple to me. I ask for the name of the order, and you say ‘Sangyeon.’ Easy peasy.” 

Sangyeon can’t help but laugh. He can’t help the disbelief at how calm you are. Sure, the reveal of his actual name isn’t that big of a deal. Maybe you thought he was just uncomfortable around people. A bit socially awkward.

The smile returns to your lips. 

“Can I ask something?” He nods, leaning on the counter to look you in the eye. The hat casts a shadow over his face, but you can see that little crinkle that you’d been longing to see up close since the first day you met him. “Why do you wear this…” you wave your hand at him. “This little get-up?” 

He falls quiet, and for a moment you think you’ve made him uncomfortable.

“I…I’m sorry, Sangyeon. I don’t- I didn’t mean-”

“Don’t apologize.” He cuts you off, and your mouth shuts. “I just…I didn’t want your opinion of me to…to change. If you saw my face, that is.” 

“If I saw your face,” you echo. “What, are you famous or something? Oooh, are you an idol?” 

Boom, right on the money.

You can see the emotions in his eyes. The fear, the shock, the confusion, the nerves. You can see his hands clenching around his coffee. A pit forms in your stomach, growing larger and larger as he shuffles back. Toward the door. 

Away from you.

“Sangyeon…” you speak slowly when you circle the counter. “Are you…”

“I have to go,” he spits out. “I’m s- I just…I’m sorry. I have to go. I’m just-” his breathing is shaking, and he back into the wall. Sangyeon stumbles, whipping around and shoving through the door before you can say another word. 

And after all that…you couldn’t even give him the cake you’d planned on giving him for his birthday.

~

Sangyeon is pacing. His footsteps are quiet, muffled by the carpet beneath his feet. His hair is in disarray from hours of tugging at the strands. 

Kevin is sitting on his leader’s bed, eyes drooping and his head resting on one of his hands.

“Dude,” Kevin pinches the bridge of his nose. “You do know that she probably thinks she messed up somehow, right?”

“God, I just keep making things worse.” Sangyeon groans loudly, kicking away one of the shirts lying on the floor. 

“I love that I get to sit back and watch you ruin your love life before it begins.” Kevin stretches his arms above his head, his eyes squeezing shut and a yawn fighting to leave his mouth. 

“Gee, thanks Kev.” Sangyeon scowls, throwing his body face-down onto the mattress. Kevin shifts to the side, patting the older man’s shoulder.

“I’m just speaking the truth. You shouldn’t have reacted like you did. What happened to being in love with her? Did you really think she would expose you for being an idol?” 

A tough question. Sangyeon would like to say that the answer to that question is yes. He would love to trust you with his whole being, with every fiber in his body, but he’s been burned before. He’s been burned, and he doesn’t want it to happen again. 

“I just…I got scared, I think.” Sangyeon’s hands fold under his cheek, his voice slightly muffled. “I just got so scared because I care about her so much, but what if…what if she isn’t…” his voice trails off.

“She isn’t like Nabi.” Kevin frowns. “Is that what you were worried about? That she was like Nabi?” 

“I…I think so.” 

Another pregnant pause between the two of them. 

“Here’s what you’re going to do. And this time you are going to listen to me and you are going to follow every bit of my instructions no matter what happens. You are going to do this tomorrow. You aren’t going to let this simmer. You are going to go there tomorrow night, you’re going to apologize, you’re going to confess, and you’re gonna have amazing sex, badabing badaboom, we get our free pastries.” 

“There’s no way you’re just helping me because you want free baked goods.” Sangyeon clicks his tongue, rolling onto his back. Kevin scoffs.

“Who do you think I am, Juyeon? No, I’m helping you because we need you to get laid and fucking relax.”

“Somehow that’s even worse.”

“Yeah, well you’ve been up our asses with this next comeback on the rise. Now are you gonna listen to me or are you gonna fuck up again and make us all miserable with your moping?” 

Sangyeon bites his tongue, fighting back a retort. “I’ll listen.”

~

“What are you doing here?”

Sangyeon practically cowers under the weight of Hyejin’s gaze. Her eyes are narrowed, her lips drawn into a thin line. He’s abandoned the mask and the hat. The only thing shielding him now is the hood of his sweatshirt. 

“I need to talk to Y/N.”

Hyejin snorts. “You think she wants to talk to you after what you did?” 

Regret boils inside of him, and he digs the nail of his thumb into his pointer finger. 

“Please, Hyejin. I just- I just need to talk to her.” He watches the college student think. Watches her consider her options.

“Wait here. I’ll go see if she wants to talk to you.”

“Thank you, Hyejin. God, thank you-”

“Don’t thank me,” she snaps. “I’m not doing this for you, so don’t thank me.”

~

You’re in the back, listening to the conversation just outside the door. Your hands tug at the edge of your apron, your eyebrows knitting together. 

“Do you want to talk to him?” Hyejin is careful to speak only when the door has stopped swinging, her voice hushed and her hand resting on your arm. “I won’t force you to go out there, and I can stay longer if you don’t want to be alone.” 

You smile, placing your hand over hers. For the shit you two give each other, she’s one of the few people you can rely on.

“It’s fine, Hyejin. You can go home.”

“You sure?” 

No. “Positive.”

~

It’s dark in the bakery. The blinds have been drawn shut, the door locked and most of the lights turned off. Sangyeon stares at the box you place on the table in front of him. Your eyes are trained on the ground, your teeth digging into the plush flesh of your lip. 

“What- what did you make tonight?” His voice cracks, and he grimaces while clearing his throat. What a great start, dumbass.

“A cake.” The statement is cold, and he gnaws on his lip. “For you.”

“For me?” He echoes, tugging it closer to his side of the table. You place your hand on top of the box, pulling it back toward you. He drops his hands back to his sides. 

“Not right now. Not until you explain what the hell happened last night.”

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out. You flinch, your body curling in on itself. “Fuck, I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“Why did you run off?” Your voice is quieter than he’d ever heard it, and he has to strain to pick up the words you’ve said. “Why…why did you leave?”

“I don’t- I swear it isn’t your fault, cupcake.” Another flinch, and he snaps his mouth shut. 

“Then why did you run?” You lift your eyes, and he can see the tears waiting to fall. He can see you fighting to keep them at bay, to keep calm. 

“I…” Sangyeon sighs. “It’s a long story. One that…that I didn’t really want to have to tell you. Not yet, at least. Not like this.”

“You don’t trust me, do you?” Your voice shakes, and Sangyeon shakes his head, one of his hands reaching forward to touch your own. He hesitates, his hand partway across the table before he decides against touching you. “It’s okay if you don’t. I get it. Fans are…they’re crazy these days, I know.” You try to laugh, but you break off into sniffles.

“I trust you, Y/N,” Sangyeon protests. “I really trust you. I ran off because…because I didn’t want this to end like the last time I trusted someone.” He drags a hand down his face, laughing in disbelief. “My last relationship was rough. I thought I could trust her, and she…she betrayed me. So because of that, I was scared.”

“Of what?” You press. “Letting go of the past? Loving me?”

“Yes!” He exclaims, erupting from his seat and running his hands through his hair. “Fuck, Y/N, I love you so much that it hurts. All I ever want to do is hold you, and kiss you, and- and-” he shakes his head, and you rise from your seat. “It drives me crazy because you make me so happy to see you excited to give me things that I don’t even like but I take anyway because I just love you so fucking much. And- and I’ve wanted to tell you everything for so long but I just- I couldn’t-” 

His lips are soft, you think when you kiss him. They’re soft, although slightly chapped. He’s frozen in place, his hands hanging in mid-air on either side of your body. He remains like that and you pull back, afraid that you misinterpreted everything.

He doesn’t let you get very far, his arms wrapping around your midsection and yanking you back into him. 

~

It’s so soft, the way he kisses you. Sangyeon doesn’t move too fast, cautious and hyperaware of everything around the two of you. His hands have untied the apron around your waist, tossing it somewhere amongst the tables and he’s placed you up on the counter. His hands are all over you: moving up and down your back, caressing your cheeks, squeezing at your hips, running over the tops of your thighs and through the strands of hair that he’s tugged out of the claw clip. 

His tongue is in your mouth, but he’s not using any force. Sangyeon lets you take the reins, set the pace. Whatever you want, he’ll give you. He’s yours. He lets your tongue prod at his own, lets you suckle at the wet muscle to your content. Your body is shaking against his own, and a smile crosses over his lips. 

Sangyeon pulls his mouth from yours, his smile widening when you whine and chase his lips. His hands are on your waist, holding you in place. “You’re shaking, cupcake.”

“Want you so bad, Yeonnie.” You reach for him again, your lips just grazing his before he pulls back.

“What do you want?” One of his hands drags along your leg, running higher, and higher, and-

“Want you to eat me out.” 

Sangyeon’s eyes go wide. So maybe he’d just been teasing you, but he hadn’t expected his sweet little baker to be so bold.

Your hand pushes against his chest, and he stumbles backward a few steps. There’s a dazed look in his eyes as he watches you unbutton your blouse. The delicate fabric slides down your shoulders, and Sangyeon swears that he’s drooling over you. The shape of your breasts in the orange glow of the fairy lights, the steady rise and fall of your chest while you breathe. 

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, and your cheeks grow warm. He reaches for you, but hesitates and puts his hand down again. You watch as he drops to his knees, practically crawling to you, and you can feel your panties dampening from the action. There’s a warm feeling in your gut, one you haven’t felt in a long time. His hands are quick to undo the button of your jeans, and he watches you as he tugs the zipper down. You’re leaning back on the counter, eyes struggling to stay open and on him. One of your lips is tucked between your teeth, red and puffy from you chewing on it.

Sangyeon drags your jeans and panties down in on harsh tug, and he helps you lift your legs to step out of them. Your legs are soft, he notes to himself. He leans forward, his lips touching the soft skin gently. You flinch, and he pulls away. 

“Why-” your voice trembles. “Why’d you stop?”

“You flinched,” he shrugs. “I will only do what you want me to, cupcake. The second you show discomfort, I stop until you tell me to continue or to leave. I’m yours. Whatever you want is what I want.  But right now, I really want to drown in this sweet pussy of yours.” He doesn’t move though, his cheek resting against the inside of your knee and his eyes are lidded with lust. “I’m not doing anything until you say so, cupcake.” 

You squeeze your eyes shut, and a nod of your head has Sangyeon practically moaning as he pulls himself closer to your core. 

“Fuck, cupcake, you’re dripping f’ me.” He coos, gauging your reactions as he prods at your entrance with the tips of his calloused fingers. You whine, trying to squeeze your legs shut, but his broad shoulders keep them open while he plays with your sopping pussy. His thumbs spread you open, and he watches you clench around nothing. 

“Hurry up, Sangyeon,” he grins at the desperation in your voice. 

“So needy,” he hums. You click your tongue and one of your hands laces in the soft strands of his hair. Your grip tightens, and he whines when you yank him closer to you.’

“Well,” you hide the way your voice shakes when you feel his breath right up against you. “I need a bit of a taste tester, you know? Need to know if she’s sweet enough- oh fuck-”

His mouth against you before you can finish your statement. His mouth is wide open, his tongue swiping along your folds, dipping inside of you and just grazing your clit, knowing full well that’s where you need him the most. Your hand is still in his hair, but your grip has gone slack. Your jaw hangs open, your head tipped back, and Sangyeon can feel him growing harder just at the taste of you in his mouth. 

His eyes drift shut, his hands grabbing your thighs and pulling you impossibly closer to his mouth. His neck has tipped back at an awkward angle, one that he knows is going to hurt later, but right now? With your pussy dripping against his face and the pretty little moans and whines you release? Sangyeon couldn’t care less. He's enraptured by you. He's obsessed with your taste, and he knows that even if he doesn't like sweets, he'd make an exception just for you.

“Sangyeon,” you’re breathless, pitch raising as he sucks at your clit, laving over it with his tongue. “Sangyeon, please.”

“Please what, cupcake?” His voice is muffled, not even bothering to pull away from you, and the vibrations of his voice have your back arching. “What do you need?”

“Need you inside of me,” you whine. “Please, please I need you so bad. Been waiting for so long. Haven’t you been waiting for me?” 

You’re a seductress, Sangyeon decides. A succubus. Sent here to torment him. To get him drunk on you, so much so that he’ll never want to leave. So much so that he’d sell his soul just to get a taste of your nectar one more time. 

“Have to make you cum, cupcake,” he denies your pretty little begs. “Wanna make you cum, just once before I fuck you. Please? Please let me make you cum?” His eyes are glowing in the light of the bakery, and you let out a high-pitched whine. He doesn’t wait for your response this time. He drowns himself in your pussy, tongue reaching inside of you for as much of your arousal as he can get. He sucks harshly on your clit, teeth grazing it and drawing loud cries from your lips.

Your legs tremble. A knot is growing in the pit of your stomach. Your body jerks. 

“Oh, fuck, Sangyeon-” Your cry trails off into a loud whine, your orgasm washing over you like a wildfire. Sangyeon drinks you up like he’s been in a desert for a week without water, moaning just as loud as you. Getting drunk on the feeling of your thighs shaking around his head, overstimulating you as you come down from your high. 

He doesn’t pull away until you physically kick him away from you. His face is drenched in your juices, his eyes glazed with need, and you have a sneaking suspicion that if you asked, he would crawl over and drag another orgasm out of you in no time at all. 

But you don’t ask. You need him inside of you so desperately that now you’re the one crawling to him. He’s still fully dressed as you perch your body over his, your core pressed right up against the bulge in his pants. His hands are tight on your hips, and he watches as you tug his sweatshirt up his body. 

“Did you plan for this to happen?” You smirk when you find bare skin under the soft hoodie. Bare, golden, skin, with toned abs like no other. Fuck maybe you were gonna get drunk on him.

He grins at you. “Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t. What are you gonna do about it?” You click your tongue and slide off of him to sit on the counter. He sits up, eyebrows knit together as you swing your legs and smile at him.

“Planned or not,” you hum, “you should probably fuck me before I change my mind and eat that birthday cake on my own.” Sangyeon scoffs, but he’s pulling his pants down his legs and walking over to you without another word.

You, on the other hand, are taken completely aback. He’s big. Like…big in both length and girth. You wonder if you’d be able to wrap your hand around it, but you don’t get the time to think about it before Sangyeon is in front of you, tearing open a foil packet and rolling the condom onto his cock.

“Is it gonna fit, do you think?” You reach your hand forward, wrapping your hand around it. You were right. 

Sangyeon hisses at the contact of your hand wrapping around his sensitive cock. “We’ll have to see, won’t we?” 

You smile, your legs wrapping around his waist and tugging him closer to you. Your hand is still on him, guiding him to your entrance. You both hiss at the initial push into you. It stings, the stretch more than you’ve had in quite a while. 

“Shit, you’re tight,” Sangyeon grips your thighs tightly, his fingers holding you so tightly that you swear there will be bruises after this. You whine, your arms coming up to wrap around his shoulders. 

His arms slide up, holding you close to him as he continues to press inside of you. Sangyeon whispers words of comfort into your ear. He pauses whenever you whine in discomfort, hushing you as he continues to push into you. He bites his tongue every time your pussy clenches around him, muffling the groans that threaten to escape. 

You, on the other hand, are moaning shamelessly despite the discomfort. You can feel him everywhere, touching every inch of you and just kissing that sweet spot inside of you. Every time he pushes further into you, once the sting passes, the pleasure is quick to replace it. It overpowers every other emotion inside of you. Your legs wrap tighter around him, forcing those last few inches into you until his hips are pressed tightly against your own and his breathing grows shaky again. You clench around him, and his body jerks. 

“Little tease,” he practically growls. “Clenching around me like you want me to cum too fast.” You laugh, but it cuts into a moan when he pulls out a few inches and shoves himself back in. Your nails dig into the back of his neck, your fingers lacing into his hair and pulling lightly. "Feels so good, Yeonnie.”

“Weren’t you the one that said that was a dog's name?” He moves slowly against you, and at first, you don’t respond, your lips attached to his shoulder and sucking dark marks into the skin. “Cupcake, careful with the marks.” Sangyeon pinches the skin of your thigh and you whine.

“Stop complaining and just fuck me already,” you plead. Sangyeon smiles.

“Whatever you say, cupcake.” You can’t get another word out. Sangyeon pushes you onto your back, barely giving you time to adjust to how he feels in this new position before he’s thrusting harshly inside of you. 

He’s harsh with his pace, each thrust punching the air out of your lungs, forcing out moans and cries and begs for him to go faster, harder, right there oh god right there Sangyeon. He lowers his mouth to your shoulder, giving you the same treatment he’d just scolded you for, listening to everything you say and every sound you make as he does. The sound of his hips slapping against yours is so loud and he can feel your arousal dripping down your pretty cunt and allowing him to go faster, to fuck you harder. 

Then he sees it. It’s faint, but when he looks down at you he can see the outline of his cock pressing against your stomach. His pace stutters, and you whine when he slows down. 

“Cupcake, look at you.” He coos, grabbing the hand that’s in his hair and bringing it down to your stomach. You raise your head, eyes fluttering when he thrusts again but you can feel the bulge against your stomach. You force your eyes to stay open the next time he thrusts into you, whining when you see it. “So fucking pretty, baby. So fucking pretty, and so small that my cock is pressing against your tummy, wanting to get out, hm?” You whine again, raising your hips to meet every thrust. 

He’s getting close. He can feel it. Every thrust, every clench, every whine. It’s all drawing him closer and closer to the edge, and he knows you can feel his cock twitching inside of you. He knows that you’re getting close again, he can feel the way your walls are fluttering around him rather than persistently clenching. 

“Are you close baby?” His hand comes up to rest next to your head, and you whine.

“So close, Yeonnie. Please I’m so close-” Your hips stutter against him, and the knot in your stomach goes tight. 

Sangyeon swears he goes blind for a moment with how hard his eyes roll back. His body shakes against yours, his cum filling the condom to the brim. Your back arches, your chests brushing together and he wraps one hand around your back, pressing against your shoulder blades to hold you close to him while the two of you ride out your highs. Both of you are panting, your bodies slick with sweat, and you can only imagine what anyone walking outside is thinking-

“Oh my god, we just fucked in my bakery.” You sit upright, your head knocking against Sangyeon’s in the process. He snorts, rubbing where you just hit him.

“You’re realizing this now?” You smack his arm, and he laughs, pulling away from you. The two of you are quiet for a few minutes, quietly cleaning up and getting dressed. Well…Sangyeon gets dressed. You’re stuck on the counter, your legs proving to be useless now. Sangyeon smiles at this, grabbing your clothes for you and helping you tug your jeans on. 

“We’re not fucking in here again.” He quirks an eyebrow.

“So what you’re saying is my car is next?” You punch his arm again, but he just laughs. “I’m kidding.”

“Are you though?” 

“...”

“Lee Sangyeon!” He laughs again, taking you by the hand to keep you steady on your feet. The two of you stand there for a few minutes, in the middle of your bakery with the orange glow of the fairy lights. 

“Did you mean what you said?” You ask, letting him lead you back to the table you’d left the cake on.

“About what?” Sangyeon peers at you, his head tilted. 

“About not liking sweets.” Your cheeks are warm. It’s a silly question, but it had bugged you. Sangyeon smiles, ducking his head.

“Yeah… I was really just here for the coffee.”

“Then…Why did you take what I gave you?” You pout. “If I had known you didn’t like that stuff, I would’ve given you something else!” 

“Because I like how happy you sounded when I told you the recipes you were trying tasted fantastic.” He says simply. “I would hate if I said or did anything that made you upset.”

“But you…” you purse your lips. “Then why did you run away? I know that you said someone had…betrayed you before…but did you really think I would do that to you?” 

Sangyeon sighs. 

“I didn’t know. Obviously, I trusted you- I trust you. But…somewhere inside of me I just couldn’t help but be a bit too cautious. I couldn’t stop myself from being afraid that this would turn out just like that relationship did, you know?” You nod, drumming your fingers on the table. “Can I see the cake you made me now?” 

“After all that, you wanna see the cake now?” You scoff and he grins at you, tugging the box toward him. “Whatever. It’s nothing special anyway.”

“Anything you make me is special.” He argues, flipping open the lid of the box. He gasps.

“Do you like it?” Sangyeon doesn’t respond. You get nervous. “Yeonnie?”

“Oh, you want me sooooo bad.”

~

TAGLIST: @winterchimez @juyeonszn

[shoheiakagi]

what your favorite homra boy says about you:

Mikoto: you want someone hot and masculine, but you’re also someone who’s happy with the bare minimum of being acknowledged with a grunt

Kusanagi: you want a man. a man who knows what he’s doing. a man who can wine and dine you. a man who doesn’t believe in paying 50/50 for dates

Totsuka: you like guys who aren’t afraid to be soft and serene, serenading you with his melodious voice and delicate features, while he gets away with whatever he wants. you also really like femboys

Yata: you love the angry bad boy with a soft side just for you, or you love a feisty boy who gets all red and shy when he’s squirming under you

Kamamoto: you want a boyfriend who supports your rights and your wrongs. a partner who enjoys cooking and eating with you. someone who probably ghosts you for his friends tbh

Akagi: you want a golden retriever bf with a rebellious edge. you also seem to have a thing for boys with messy hair tucked under baseball caps and a sense of adventure

Bandou: you like the brooding type with dark hair who’s also brash, insecure, and easy to dominate. the tsundere type who rolls his eyes at you with a blush on his face

Chitose: you either want to have a fun time and live your hot girl summer or you’re a masochist because you think you can fix broken boys

Dewa: you like the brooding type with dark hair (x2), but with a higher self esteem and the fashion sense of a 2013 transplant moving to nyc with their parent’s trust fund money

Eric: you like your boys to be emotionally vulnerable so that you can easily manipulate them, or you just like boys with a sassy tongue and a sharp knife

Fujishima: you value stability and warmth and would rather grow old with tons of fur babies than an actual human baby

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: Large Adult Son

Eric Stenbock: hello midnight society Stenbock: i'm Count Eric Stanislaus Stenbock Stenbock: [producing life-size mannequin] and this is my son le Petit Comte Thomas Ligotti: Ligotti: Ligotti: Ligotti: Stephen King: you're uh King: really staring at that mannequin kinda intently there, tom Ligotti: hm

Eric Stenbock: submitted for the approval of the midnight society, i call this the true story of the vampire Stenbock: one sec, let me just get le Petit Comte comfortable first Stenbock: how are you doing le Petit Comte Stenbock: Ligotti: Stenbock: Ligotti: Stenbock: Ligotti: Stenbock: he says he's doing good

RL Stine: hey does your puppet talk Stine: my puppet talks Stenbock: does my what talk? Stine: your puppet Stenbock: Stenbock: you mean my son? Stine: yeah your puppet there Stenbock: Stenbock: never speak to me or my son every again

RL Stine: i just wanted to know if le petit comte talks RL Stine: [producing ventriloquist dummy] cuz knothead here talks RL Stine: especially when i drink a glass of water RL Stine: watch he'll sing the old gray mare Stenbock: how dare you

Stenbock: submitted for the approval of the midnight society, i call this the true tale of a vampire Stenbock: it's the story of carmilla Sheridan Le Fanu: Stenbock: not THAT carmilla Stenbock: a totally different carmilla

Stenbock: this carmilla story is not to be confused for sheridan la fanu's carmilla Stenbock: for one thing, this isn't a lesbian vampire story Stenbock: it's a gay vampire story Stenbock: extremely gay Bram Stoker: oh no Anne Rice: oh yes

Stenbock: so carmilla lives in a castle with her sexy brother gabriel and their dad Stenbock: and she's narrating this story so Stenbock: she's all "hey its me carmilla, let me tell you what i look like" Stenbock: "i'm just an average girl, but i think i'm pretty hot" Stenbock: "but boy my brother, damn what a smoke show" Stenbock: "pouty youthful mouth, tangled blonde locks, the whole deal" Stenbock: "you know how it is"

Stenbock: "so my brother was so kind and gentle, filled with nothing but love" Stenbock: "just loved animals" Stenbock: "and animals loved him" Stenbock: "he was a delicate cinnamon bun too good for this cruel bitch of a world"

Stenbock: "anyway this vampire comes to our castle" Stenbock: "and he's always hanging out with my brother" Stenbock: "but my brother is suddenly all sick and pale and doesn't have as much blood as usual" Stenbock: "suspiciously vampiric"

Stenbock: "anyway then my brother died and the vampire left, the end" Stenbock: what do you think of that Ligotti: Ligotti: Ligotti: King: thom it's not going to move, it's not real Ligotti: hm

[ohtobeleah]

💕 Galentines Day Song Prompt List 💕

Leah’s Galentines Day Special! Rules & Regulations are as followed 👇

🫶 All entries must be submitted over the weekend of the 17th & 18th of February. (Remember I’m Australian so this may be subject to Timezone differences)

🫶 All participants must be 18+ (Blogs will be checked upon entry for something that indicates this)

🫶 Participants must direct message me & requests a song to use as their prompt. Once a song has been recorded, selected and given to you, your @ will be tagged next to your chosen song.

-> Example: “Hi Leah, May I please select *Song of choice* for your Galentine’s Day special”

🫶 No kink!shaming allowed (Reader discretion will be advised by the participants involved) It will be the job of the Author to ensure their work is properly tagged and that warnings are properly placed.

🫶 Although this is a Valentines Day Soecial, angst is also encouraged as well as Smutty ideas, and of course our fluffy lovey dovey ideas. 💡

🫶 No Minimum or Maximum word count required.

🫶 Any art or moodboards are also welcome.

🫶 Submissions can be stand alone One-Shots or a blurb using previously established characters from worlds authors have already created.

🫶 All Submissions are to be tagged with #leahsgalentinesdayspecial and @ohtobeleah tagged.

🫶 All Submissions will be added to the official Galentines Day Soecial Masterlist as well as reblogged by yours truly.

-> I’m Yours ~ Jason Marx

-> You're Still The One ~ Shania Twain @senawashere

-> Bubbly ~ Colbie Caillat @shinycupcakebaker

-> You and I ~ Lady Gaga @briseisgone

-> You Shouldn't Kiss Me Like This ~ Toby Keith @a-reader-and-a-writer

-> Chasing Stars ~ Rupert Pope, Giles Palmer

-> Delicate ~ Taylor Swift @purelyfiction

-> Lavender Haze ~ Taylor Swift @becks-things

-> Style ~ Taylor Swift

-> Wildest Dreams ~ Taylor Swift

-> Lover ~ Taylor Swift @sorchathered

-> Wonderland ~ Taylor Swift @sparklehippie17

-> Love Again ~ Dua Lipa

-> Kiss Me ~ Sixpence None The Richer @muddwheelz123

-> Can’t Help Falling In Love ~ Elvis Presley @seresinsbrat

-> Can’t Take My Eyes Off You ~ Frankie Valli @withahappyrefrain

-> Be My Baby ~ The Robettes @nerdgirljen

-> Bad Romance ~ Lady Gaga @briseisgone

-> Somebody To Love ~ Queen @rockstxr-x

-> Lovefool ~ The Cardigans

-> Like a Wrecking Ball ~ Eric Church @mynameismackenziemae

-> Counting Stars ~ OneRepublic

-> Adore You ~ Harry Styles @seitmai

-> Radio ~ Lana Del Rey

-> All Of Me ~ John Legend @fanboyswhore9

-> Always Be My Baby ~ Mariah Carey @ryebecca

-> Let’s Stay Together ~ Al Green

-> Here I Am ~ Bryan Adams @auroralightsthesky

-> Something Just Like This ~ The Chainsmokers, Coldplay

-> Jessie’s Girl ~ Rick Springfield

-> Dandelions ~ Ruth. B @callsign-phoenix

-> I Want It That Way ~ Backstreet Boys

-> You & I ~ One Direction

-> A Thousand Miles ~ Vanessa Carlton

-> Hey Lover ~ The Daughters Of Eve @sunlightmurdock

-> She Will Be Loved ~ Maroon Five

-> Maps ~ Maroon Five

-> Girls Like You ~ Maroon Five

-> Stay With Me ~ Sam Smith

-> Love On The Brain ~ Rihanna @moonlight-prose

-> Mary Me ~ Train @sailor-aviator

-> Young & Beautiful ~ Lana Del Rey

-> I'm In Love ~ Hailey Whitters @purelyfiction

-> For Once In My Life ~ Stevie Wonder

-> Just Give Me A Reason ~ P!nk, Nate Ruess @bradshawsbaby

-> Just The Way You Are ~ Bruno Mars @mamachasesmayhem

-> I Don’t Wanna Live Forever ~ Zayn, Taylor Swift

-> How To Save A Life ~ The Fray

-> Love Me Like You Do ~ Ellie Golding @senawashere

🫶 Don’t see a song you’d like to use? Not a problem, direct message me your preferred song and I’ll add not only your song of choice but you to the list!

[kahuunknown]

Prized Beast - True Blood Eric Northman fanfic

!NOTE!: (18+), inspiration from TRUE BLOOD TV Show, Eric Northman x male reader, Male-reader/(Y/N) is replaced with alternative terms.

~~~

Eric couldn’t help it, usually he wasn’t so sentimental or wondrous about sex, but the little beast beneath him was nothing short of beautiful. He couldn’t stop his eyes from trailing the expanse of the muscled back rippling and arching before him, each push and pull earning a new shape and curve to that untouched skin. Colour a gorgeous olive tan, a shade blessed and kissed by the sun, it was warm and familiar- the same kind of skin tone of viking women during the long-summer. It was soft, velvet and youthfully delicate. Stretchy and forgiving to his rougher nature.

Eric groaned lowly, eyes flickering briefly to the back of his head, as he realised his nails had dug through and pierced the boy’s smaller body and drawn a flavour unlike any other. It smelt warm, satly like the sea of his origin, earthy like the sandelwood of forests- but sweet, if only naturally. Like vanilla bean and fruit. Juicy. His Tiger smelt like home. Natural and untampered. Pure and his alone.

Eric moaned obscenely as a hand left the boy’s hip to gift his tongue with the pleasure of tasting the treat he’d stained his own fingers with, cutting his own flesh in the hurry of consuming such an addiction. Fangs in the way, but all of Eric’s self control had left him hours ago, instincts ruled him and his horny bloodlust wouldn’t let him calm.

His beast usually waited until near dawn to arrive, but tonight had been different. Eric had smelt him, heard that rapid animal heart-beat, well before the young man had even neared the establishment. But he waited, patiently so.

For that grumpy expression to become expossed to his ocean eyes, for that pout to rile his excitement, for those yellow feline-eyes to seduce him. Eric waited, for he was no new fledgling, he was old and experienced in the art and reward of waiting. Godric had instilled the importance of such a lesson and Eric would never forget something so valuable.

Then, there he was. Tucked into a hoody much to large- it was his, and Eric relished in the fact that his scent was prominant and consuming the boy properly. Eric felt a wave of pride fill him, as not only was the little beast uncaring of other vampire- He was loyal, Eric preened. But he was also respecting the rule Eric had fussed over, others needed to know who the shifter belonged to. Who owned him.

The beginnings of a purr was igniting within Eric’s throat, especially as his beast neared him. He could now see black combat pants, with pockets that Eric could sense was filled with something silver- always the cautious little boy. Good.

The red glimmer of an earring, and Eric couldn’t stop himself from smiling smugly- his clever beast had thought of the idea. To have some of his blood on hand, safely and inconspicously hidden within the small vile of an innocent earring. Never used. But it made Eric feel better during his day-absence.

But this night, right... yes, Eric recalls, it was unusual.

He was practically vibrating with the hum leaving his lips as arms curled around his boy’s waist and hugged him close. That made his Tiger’s expression now available to him, the shifter looked conflicted- but with eyes blown so wide, Eric knew things were progressing smoothly. Sexuality didn’t mean much to a vampire... But his beast was a hesitant soul, stuck in the mindset of human tradition which had been imprinted. Eric was quick to fight such thoughts, battle it with force and persuasion. While his work wasn’t yet complete, Eric knew he had won something when the boy chose him. This night, his Tiger had confided reluctantly to him. And this was a change.

Eric rumbles at the brilliant hotness of his creature, so warm, so comforting. Like access to a sun away from suns. His own personal source of the long forgotten but well-missed heat of the day. The new position granted Eric the expanse of throbbing skin to his mouth, neck expossed and vulnerable to an attack which was undoubtly going to occur.

“My pet, this is unusual of you.” Eric chimes, eyeing his property stood before him. The eyes of some still lingered, but most were too caught up in lust, alcohol or simply the desire to move with the music. His pet looked uncomfortable, but in actuality, Eric was already well aware of this fact. He could sense the emotion from the blood bond. But he could not decipher why...

His Tiger’s expression remained bored, but Eric knew better, his grumpy kitten couldn’t fool him. But others were not so privy to understanding the subtleties of his prized possession.

“I need your help.”

It was but a whisper, soft and sweet. Embarrassment know flooded the bond and Eric was eager to understand why. Why, why, why? This was so highly unexpected. His shifter was a strong supernatural- humans were mostly no threat to him... And Eric had already honored his side of the bargin. So no other supernatural’s should bother the young boy further, unless, they had? But even then... He was confident his boy was powerful enough.

Of course, Pam was by their side in an instant, just as surprised and delighted to hear such words fall from lips as tightly sealed as their resident Tiger’s maw.

“Did I hear correctly?” She teased, silently urging him to repeat himself.

But Eric waved her back to her duties quickly at the massive spike of anxiety that clouded his bond, now even he was worried. She huffed with a frown, but rolled her eyes dramatically and did as she was told.

Standing, Eric allowed himself to briefly marvel the difference in height, shiver as those feline gold eyes followed him. Fuck, those damn eyes- they had such power over him, but he’d never let their owner know that.

“Come.” Eric ordered, “Let’s speak in the office.”

Relief came... Eric wondered what this was all about. Easily dividing the crowd, and while some humans watched with envy and jealousy, many of the vampires present understood that the Tiger was his. And that was to be respected, and reason enough, to earn priority from his duties on display as Sheriff and business-owner. They bowed their heads, and averted their eyes.

The door closed swiftly behind the shifter, and Eric found himself holding the boy still as his nose dotted about the mortal’s form. Hands patting down the smaller for injuries he perhaps wasn’t capable of detecting. The beast waited patiently, not stopping Eric until the vampire was satisfied. Head pressing against a warm chest, Eric concentrated on the heart beat once more, double checking that it was healthy and normal. It was a little fast, but otherwise fine. He frowned, stepping back.

“I-...”

“You’re temperature has risen, and your heart beats quickly. But nothing is wrong...” Eric mumbles.

“I’m fine.” His pet assured before pausing, “Mostly.”

“What is it?”

“It’s me.” The shifter admitted through clenched teeth. He looked and felt unhappy to be sharing anything with Eric, and yet the boy continued. “I’m a shifter.”

“Yes. I’m aware.” Eric mused, perhaps he was over thinking things?

“I’m omega.” It was added, swiftly and beyond quietly. Eric was sure that without his enhanced hearing, no creature would be able to detect something so silent and muffled. But he heard it. And he didn’t dare ask his Tiger to repeat such a declaration. The implication was enough. A spark of greed clouded Eric’s mind as he knew how incredably rare such a beast was- but he restrained himself.

No wonder the Tiger had trouble with other shifters (Were’s included). The boy was a walking, talking magnet. Valuable to every supernatural creature. Of course... Eric pondered. His boy was an excellent tracker, had given abilities that exceeded regular shifters and... those damn eyes. Eric nearly hit himself, those golden orbs were a dead give away.

“You-“ Eric paused, “You said you needed my help.”

The shifter nodded his head, “Normally, I’d figure this out on my own... But-“ He cut himself off, the little beast was unable to finish that sentence and Eric knew exactly why. His night has gone from boring to electric in mere minutes.

“I understand.” Eric assured, picking his words carefully. His chest puff up upon hearing the further loyalty in his tiger’s words (or lack of/implication). “I’ll help you.”

His Tiger’s shoulders slumped, and while there’s still a lingering nervousness and anxiousness, there is undoubtedly a type of relief paired with disgust. Eric ignored that last feeling, for he’d overcome it eventually.

“Is it tonight?”

He nods, and Eric is glad for the excuse to abandon Fangtasia.

Eric raises a palm to press against his big cat’s cheek, the boy doesn’t have the curouge to meet his eyes, but Eric can feel how despite the still rather grumpy expression, the Tiger presses into the touch. It wasn’t going to be their first time together, but it would be memerable and would change their dynamic.

So here he was. Fucking his dear omega prize.

Eric knew it was said to be special sleeping with an omega during heat, but the occassion was so rare that even Godric had not experienced such a thing. Still, he would disagree. It was so much more than special. It was otherworldly.

It felt like the perfect balance between man and women. And finally (aside from fellow vampires), Eric found a partner able to compete with his sexual stamina. Fuck, the little tiger just felt so very good. Unlike anything. He tasted brighter. He sounded pretty. He moved animalistically.

“You know, I’m offended I wasn’t invited.” Pam drawls.

Eric hadn’t even heard her. Hadn’t noticed her at all. Too focused on feeling everything, hearing everything, tasting everything. It scared him that Pam was able to do such a thing. So much so, that he initially snapped and hissed at her. Bearing down upon his dazed shufter and crushing the poor boy beneath him in an instinctually protective stance.

Pam seemed shocked as well, but then the scent hit her. And she forgot about Eric’s posessiveness, and moaned at the taste in the air, fangs shooting out uncontrolled.

“Is he?”

“Yes.” Eric croaked, “My tiger appears to have been keeping a rather serious secret from us.”

“I can’t believe he smells so damn good.” Pam hums.

“He feels even better.” Eric rasps, pushing himself up to better allow Pam to see the blissed and sex-drunk state of Eric’s dear beasty. And removing the protective stance he’d been displaying. There was no need if it were just his child, his progeny.

“Fuck.” She swears, biting a lip. Rounding the bed, she drags her done-up nails upon the shifter’s scalp. Tugging his locks of midnight hair in order to further expose the pretty face behind. Feline eyes dilate before expanding once more. He looked wild, Pam noted. Untamed despite the circumstance. Those hands were gripping at the sheets with white knuckles, in fact, she might’ve seen those precious talons of his extended and digging into the material. He didn’t want to be here, he didn’t want to be in this position... be with a man. Be wanted by men.

Pam nearly laughed at the irony. Oh how she wished she’d found the pussy cat herself, claimed him for herself. He’d have been happier then, but Eric would win this war, she had no doubt about that. The Tifer would succum to the Viking, submit to him fully in due time.

Unable to remain still any longer, Eric resumes his rythum of thrusting once more. And his shifter wheezes at the quick pace, but Pam silences him with her mouth. Bring the omega into a sloppy kiss. Her tongue traced those cute little pointed canines of his, while her own fangs threatened to draw blood. But she knew Eric wouldn’t be happy about that, she knew that tasting the omega was only a matter of time. Still it was hard to resist such a temptation before her.

Pulling away, Pam gives the special shifter’s cheek a quick peck. She briefly gazes at her Maker, whom looks to have returned to a daze of lust. Perhaps, she’d join in next time. Trotting away, Pam wanders in the direction of her coffin. The day would join them soon.

Eric and and his newly discovered Omega had been at it for hours, but dawn quickly began presenting itself. Pam’s interupting them was evidence of that fact, she didn’t like to be in the basement without appropriate need. Eric near roared as he climaxed, fangs extended and showing off their might. Lengthier and more prominant due to his age and power.

Calming himself, and steadying a non-beating heart, Eric examines his little beast carefully. The Tiger was near passed out, but his body responded appropriately regardless, still wanting more. Bruises and bites littered the boy black and blue. And while there was pride in such ownership, Eric knew it was only fair to heal the omega.

Biting his wrist, mortal lips numbly suckle at the blood. Not much is needed, and his feline doesn’t drink more than is nessessary, he takes what he is given. He’s a good pet, Eric nearly coos.

He’d never let the boy stay with him during day-rest before. Of course, the Tiger had guarded the room from time-to-time, but Eric knew at this stage that the boy was little threat to him. Nor did he ever suspect his shifter had the intentions to harm himself or Pam.

Simply rolling to his side, Eric curled around his dear tiger and allowed sleep to take him into a temporary death. Together in deeper manner than ever before. This new revelation made Eric ponder the changes he could make to his future endeavours. But it also made him debate his level of possessiveness, as of course, should anyone discover such information, it would be remarkably dangerous for not just his pet- but to him and Pam, as well.

Love was not an emotion Eric would ever be capable of understand, nor any vampire really, but he liked his little beast. He really liked his dear Shifter, and for now, that was all that mattered to a mind as old as his own.

[alotofrandomfangirling]

Forms of affection (Son Heung-Min x f!reader headcanons)

Summary: little things Sonny and you would do in a relationship to show affection for each other.

Warnings: established relationship

Author's note: okay so I'm not a writer, i literally just put some things on my phone notes when i'm feeling inspired and that's it ajskajskaj Sonny's got me feeling VERY inspired these days so i wrote these cause he makes me feel super soft 🤧 i hope you enjoy it though! It's all stuff i think he would do in a relationship because he's a precious smol bean 💗 and sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language 🥰

Holding hands

• Sonny isn't very comfortable with PDA

• He's very polite so he always tries to keep it respectful (and poor baby is shy too >.<)

• But one thing he absolutely can't just not do is holding hands

• It's his own simple way of telling the world you belong to him and he belongs to you

• Sometimes when he's with his friends and he takes your hand he blushes a bit because he knows they will tease him

• "Yeah, big boy, go get your girl!" - they tease him when you're not around

• But he doesn't mind because he's really super proud you're "his girl" 💗

• He likes rubbing his thumb over your hand too

• It's like he's saying "everything is okay, I'm here for you and you're here for me"

• And even if he can't hold hands at the moment, he'll always put his hand on the small of your back, just to let you know he's there for you (and to remind himself you're with him too)

Kissing the mole under his eye

• Sonny has said it himself that he likes the beautymark under his eye so there's no need to hide you love it too

• You think it's sweet and delicate just like him <3

• You like kissing that spot too

• When you're having a day off and watching tv or just laying next to each other you love admiring his features and that tiny mole always stands out to you

• "Close your eyes" - you ask him softly

• When he does, you approach him and kiss right under his eye

• He laughs and when he opens his eyes he says "thank you, my love, but i was expecting that kiss somewhere else" - he says sheepishly

• You can't help but laugh out loud at how adorable he is

• "You're so silly" - you say smiling and then kiss him on the lips just like he wanted hehe

Kissing his wrinkles

• Needless to say that Sonny laughing is one of the most precious things you've ever seen

• You'll do everything on your reach to make him laugh because it's seriously so heartwarming

• You think it's soooo adorable how his eyes get all wrinkled when he's laughing hard

• When he does that, you grab his face and shower his wrinkles with kisses because you really can't deal with that cuteness

• That makes him laugh even harder so you go on a loop of laughing and kissing AKSLAJSKAJ

• When he's back to normal he'll hug you and kiss you back because he really can't believe he ended up with a kind angel like you

Running your hands through his hair

• Oh my God, let's talk about Eric Dier's goal Sonny's hair!!

• It's soooo fluffy T.T

• You want to touch it all the time

• When you're chilling at home and he lays his head on your lap or when you have those lazy days staying in bed you love to run your hands through his hair

• And don't get tricked, he loves it too!

• He says it's super relaxing and makes him forget about all the bad stuff

• He will close his eyes and just enjoy it, which is seriously such an angelic sight

• Also when you're talking and you're feeling flirty you'll stand in your tip toes, run your hands through his hair and give him a little kiss

• It makes his heart do a backflip

• "Nonono come back and kiss me again please" hahahah

Saying "i love you"

• You say lots of "i love you"s but you'd rather show it

• Little gestures of caring that really show how much you love each other

• When he comes home after losing a match and you hug him tightly, he knows it's because you love and support him, and you'll always be by his side no matter what

• Or when you're feeling frustrated because of work and he picks you up, holding you tight

• You feel so safe in his arms and that's because you know how much he loves you

• Also when he scores!

• He wants to keep it safe for both of you, so he won't just let an "i love you" slip, but he'll always do the heart hands or blow kisses to you

• But you do say the words too

• When he's about to leave for a match

• "Go get them, baby, i love you!" - you say and he feels like he could conquer the world for you ❤️

• Or when he travels for the competitions and calls you because he misses you

• "I love you so much, do you know that?"

• Your heart breaks at that because you love him and miss him just as much

• But your fave is when you're in bed, late at night, his hands caressing your face and he goes:

• "(Y/N)?" - he asks, his voice almost a whisper

• "Yeah?" - you reply, nearly asleep

• "Saranghae" - he says, kissing your forehead softly

• That makes your heart feel so warm

• "I love you too, Sonny" - you get closer to him and fall asleep with a big smile and a fluttering heart 💗

[tiniedemon]

— ♡

superposition

part four

— ♡

cw. | nsfw content

stan marsh was a blessing and a curse. he was a great godfather and a fantastic babysitter, and kyle’s best friend, but boy was he a whirlwind of disaster. somehow, someway, he managed to leave a natural disaster in his wake every time he entered your house.

as you stared at the state of your kitchen, you were absolutely convinced he was sent from hell itself. flour, batter, and melted chocolate covered every surface, including the floor and your children. ten-year-old kian’s hair was white, coated thoroughly in flour, and five-year-old sage’s mouth was surrounded by a ring of chocolate.

stan was crouched between them, doe eyes trained on your figure in the doorway, a bowl of half-mixed cake batter in his hands. you took a deep breath, closing your eyes and counting slowly to ten. you were drunk and irritated, a combination you were sure stan didn’t want to reckon with.

“stanley,” you began in a soft, shaking voice. “please explain to me why my children look like founding fathers.”

“i wouldn’t necessarily say founding fathers,” he responded sheepishly. you could hear the nervous smile in his voice, and it was pissing you off. kyle stopped just behind you, inhaling sharply. it took a few seconds before his hands were massaging your shoulders, placing a delicate kiss on your cheek.

“sweetheart, you go upstairs. i got this,” he whispered in your ear. you finally opened your eyes, scowling at stan, and turned to kiss your husband. then you were taking the steps two at a time and slamming your bedroom door behind you.

sometimes you wished kyle had kept the short temper he had when he was younger. nowadays it only really came out around eric cartman, and his visits were far and few between. nowadays, it was only you getting angry. it was only ever you with a short temper and slim patience.

stanley marsh was all-around a fucking nightmare. of this you were convinced. it took nearly two hours before kyle was quietly entering your bedroom, rubbing your shoulders from behind. he pressed a kiss to the back of your head and rubbed his cold nose against your jaw.

“the kids are asleep. how about we take a bath, pretty thing?” he whispered into your ear, his fingertips trailing down your arm to take hold of your hand. you perked up at the thought, heart fluttering in your chest. the ghost of his fingertips was buzzing, leaving your body alight and your face flushed. even after all these years, kyle never failed to get you worked up over nothing.

“i think you should get the tap running,” you murmured, turning your head to press a slow kiss to your husband’s lips. he was the first to rise from where he sat on your bed, pressing another lingering kiss to your lips before running off to the conjoined master bathroom. you undressed yourself slowly, using makeup remover to take off all your makeup. once the tap fell silent, you graced kyle with your presence in the bathroom. the door lock clicked behind you.

he was already submerged in bubbly bath water, arm rested on the edge of the tub, the only lighting provided by flickering candles scattered around the room. you smiled softly at the man in the bathtub, the sentiment returned as his eyes raked your body.

normally, you’d be rushing to cover yourself with any cloth available, but there was something about kyle that made you feel beautiful. your hips had widened since bearing his two children, your tits were a little on the saggy side, and you never quite lost the pregnancy fat in your stomach, and yet he still looked at you as though you were the most beautiful woman on the planet.

you sunk into the warm water with kyle, capturing his lips in a sensual kiss. his hands immediately found their place on your ass, gripping tightly, pulling a low groan from your lips. you could feel him poking against your thigh, grinding your hips down against his cock and groaning into his open mouth. he moaned with you, guiding your hips against his, fingertips directing his dick towards your entrance.

once he finally entered you, you let out a high pitched whimper and continued the slow movements of your hips. his fingernails were forming crescents in your skin with how hard he was gripping you, bath water splashing over the sides of the tub, your shared moans filling the small room.

before long, the friction started building, a knot tightening in your lower stomach. you were finishing before you could fully grasp it, legs spasming and back arching violently. kyle’s hand flat against your spine kept you upright, sliding down to join his other hand in cupping the bubble of your ass.

he caught your lips, teeth tugging at your bottom lip, slowly standing from the bathtub, supporting your weight via your ass. you were sat flat against the counter within seconds, kyle pulling out just to sink to his knees. his tongue fluttered rapidly against your sensitive clit, drawing high pitched moans from your lips as your thighs tightened around his head and your hand buried itself in his damp curls.

he worked you through another two orgasms, the time between each shortening until you were a moaning, whimpering mess of jolting muscles and dripping juices.

“you’re so pretty,” kyle groaned into your pussy, planting one last kiss against your labia before rising back up to his feet. you circled an arm around the back of his neck, drawing his face down to get a taste of yourself. his tongue pressed against yours with every eager movement of your lips, his hand guiding his cock back into you.

his thrusts were rough and your moans were loud, filling the bathroom with obscene squelching noises and skin slapping skin. it took only a handful of movements before his hips stilled, his cock buried as deep as he could get it, twitching against your inner walls as he filled you to the brim.

as soon as he managed to finish bathing you, nearly an hour later, he snuggled up behind you in bed. you sighed contentedly, curling your legs in towards your chest, heart fluttering beneath your rib cage.

“you’re so amazing,” you whispered into the warm silence of your bedroom. kyle chuckled and pressed a kiss to your shoulder.

“i should say the same to you, my love. i really do have the most gorgeous wife.” you sighed again, smiling as you turned your head to glance at him over your shoulder.

even in the low lighting provided only by a nightlight in the floor, he was gorgeous. the shadows perfectly defined his sharp jaw and sharp nose, an elegant halo shining yellow against his fiery hair. you thanked every god above for sending you this beautiful man and letting him be yours forever.

“i love you, ky. i really do. but your best friend is going to be the death of me.”

masterlist

[the-metatron]

The Metatron's Taylor Swift Curse Blessing Playlist

Thank you for the tag , @confused-book-noises. I am eager to share my music playlist with my beloved followers.

Rules: shuffle your on repeat playlist and post the first 10 tracks, then tag 10 people.

1. Love Story - Taylor Swift

As you already know, I am an ardent supporter of star-crossed lovers and would never try to keep them apart.

2. Shake It Off - Taylor Swift

Taylor's rapping during the bridge was exquisite. Eminem has nothing on this. sick. beat.

3. Blank Space - Taylor Swift

I, too, have a long list of ex-lovers (everyone's grandparents) but they all prefer @pret-a-metatron to Starbucks.

4. London Boy - Taylor Swift

Who doesn't love a London boy? Darling, I fancy you(r grandfather). A true spiritual successor to Estelle's American Boy featuring Taylor's long-term archnemesis who shall not be named.

5. Lover - Taylor Swift

In @metatrons-heavenly-kingdom we will keep the Christmas lights up all year round, not just til January.

6. You Belong with Me - Taylor Swift

Ah, I remember when I used this song to seduce God. Good times (even though She rejected me).

7. All of the Girls You Loved Before - Taylor Swift

Though I appreciate her country, pop, and folk outings, Taylor Swift is at her best when she's channeling Ariana Grande and using suburban-friendly 'R&B' beats.

8. Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince - Taylor Swift

Ever since @ask-eric-the-disposable-demon placed the Taylor Swift curse upon me--which I've now come to embrace as a blessing--I've missed listening to other musicians. This song took me back to when I could listen to the Killers' A Dustland Fairytale and it was quite nostalgic for me. I saw the ending when I turned the page, I threw my money and I ran away I saw the scoreboard and ran for my life.

9. Cardigan - Taylor Swift

Kissing cars and downtown bars is truly all I needed. (In fact, the first two verses were unnecessary filler until this point in the song--don't tell Taylor I said that though, I'm sure she is already aware.)

10. Delicate - Taylor Swift

If anyone can empathize with Taylor Swift's undeserved bad reputation that has never been worse, it is me. Still, I try my best to get people to like me for me (and my coffee).

Full Pressure Tags (I'm the Metatron, what do you expect?)

@bildads-rib-shack, @kleenexwoman, @aceisdoingthings, @janeway-lover, @helphowdoiusethis, @violet-yimlat @morningbloodystar (and your entire family), @bagelofchaos (and everyone in your group chat), @creative-soul-22, @agoodpairofsocks

And anyone else who would like to participate--if you do, I will gift you a free oatmilk latte with almond syrup