#i was cinderella and i had a purse

[interstellarflare]

A Cinderella Story || Anthony Bridgerton

-PART ONE-

Summary: Have courage, and be kind. Words that you tried to live by ever since the passing of your parents. Though your step-mother and step-sisters did everything in their power to hide you and your status away from the rest of the Ton, you never expected to catch the eye of Viscount Anthony Bridgerton himself.

Authors Note: This is my first Bridgerton series! I had an absolute ball writing this, and I hope you enjoy it! There is a tag list open if anyone wishes to be kept updated for future parts. Gif by @greengableslover

‘The Prince smiled, extending his hand towards her with grace and ease.

“May I have this dance, my lady?” he asked lowly, his eyes meeting hers with a kind yet mischievous twinkle. There was something about the Prince that made her heart flutter, that made her place her hand into his and reply-‘

The sound of hurriedly approaching footsteps and a chorus of shouting caused you to stuff the book beneath your pillows, a small panic settling over you as you quickly jumped out of your rickety bed and threw the old sheets over the mattress to at least make it look as if you hadn’t been lying in it mere seconds ago.

The door to the attic swung open, violently ricochetting off the wall and with a loud ‘bang’. You flinched, a shaky breath escaping you as you turned your gaze towards the form of your stepmother, her piercing greyish-blue eyes staring intently at you as she entered. She held her head high, the permanent scowl on her features examining every little aspect of the small space with precision. Her eyes landed on the small wooden table beside your bed, narrowing on the melted candle with the wax spilling over the sides.

“You were reading again, weren’t you?” She growled, her lips pursing in annoyance. Fiddling with your hands in front of you, you shrugged your shoulders slightly. “It wasn’t all night, Lady Worthington, I swear-“

“Nonsense, I can see the candle clear as day girl!” She shouted, a look of disapproval forming on her features. You held her stare, a small sense of guilt settling in your stomach the longer your stepmother remained in the attic. With a long and annoyed huff, she brushed he black-greying hair from her shoulder, looking you up and down with a look of disgust. “Get yourself cleaned up, and once you’re done start with breakfast. My girls are hungry, we have a long day ahead of us” she ordered, gathering her deep purple skirts and storming out of the room.

Releasing a breath you weren’t aware you were holding, your shoulders slumped in relief. You looked down at yourself and sighed, Lady Worthington was right. The clothes you wore currently were nothing but rags, and your day clothes weren’t much better. They were either oversized or too small, but you made do with the worn black and white maids dresses you were given. After getting changed and tying your hair back with a small piece of ribbon, you quickly skipped downstairs and into the kitchen.

You could hear Lady Worthington and her daughters cackling manically in the dining room, discussing their plans for the day, and how excited they were to be invited to Lady Danbury’s ball. Lady Danbury’s ball was one of the highlights of the season, or…so you had heard anyway. It had been a long time since you had seen the dear woman, you believed the last time you held conversation with her was when you were but a child. Your father, just after the loss of your mother, had taken you to one of Lady Danbury’s balls after deciding that leaving you at home would have been unwise at this grief-stricken time.

You remembered the beautiful dresses, the beautiful debutants who smiled and waved at your curious gaze. The kind bachelors who greeted you with a dance. And a young boy, hiding behind his father’s legs, his eyes following you wherever you went. Lady Danbury had been most gracious, you remember. A close friend of your mothers, almost like an aunt to you. But when Lady Worthington came into the picture and had taken control of your father’s inheritance after his passing, you were practically forgotten and hidden away from the ton. A part of you missed it, though you weren’t envious of today’s debutants desperately seeking husbands. Lady Worthington was perhaps one of the most persistent mothers out there, aside from Lady Featherington you hear.

This would be the third season that your stepsisters, Elizabeth and Mary Worthington, would participate in. They very much enjoyed flaunting themselves before the ton, given the state of their rooms with delicate and luxurious dresses and jewellery thrown about. They did not hide their wealth, rather your father’s wealth, that their mother had inherited, and bought the fanciest dresses money could buy. It had almost worked one season, Colin Bridgerton had visited to call on Elizabeth. But upon seeing how lavishly she lived, and how horribly she had treated you upon her request for tea for the two of them, the third-eldest Bridgerton hadn’t called again.

She changed somewhat after that, you recalled. She didn’t find much enjoyment in gorgeous dresses or glittering diamonds. She didn’t speak much to you or her mother anymore either, but Mary was her confidant. Sometimes she would glance at you, a look of guilt on her face, but it briefly passed whenever her sister or mother made some snide comment about your presence.

Preparing breakfast was easily done. Keeping a portion for yourself on a separate plate, you carried the three other plates into the dining room with practiced ease. Mary squealed with delight, snatching one of the plates from your arm and almost knocking the others out of your grasp in the process. “Oh thank goodness, I’m starved!” she exclaimed, hastily digging in as if she hadn’t eaten in days. You handed a plate to Elizabeth, who seemed to nod slightly as you placed the plate before her. Lady Worthington however, merely sneered as you placed her plate on the table.

You excused yourself from the room and retreated into the kitchen, beginning to eat your portion of the remaining food whilst listening to their gossip quietly. They weren’t quiet by any means, though you supposed that it was in their nature to be loud and obnoxious.

“Mother, did you hear! I heard from Cressida that apparently Lord Bridgerton is looking for a wife this season!” Mary exclaimed, her words muffled likely by the food in her mouth. You heard Elizabeth sigh heavily “I won’t believe it until Lady Whisteldown writes about it-“

“Nonsense!” Lady Worthington cried, interrupting her daughter with a squeal, “If the rumour is true than we are going to take every advantage we can get. The two of you are going to do your damned best get his attention-“

“And what if we don’t, mother? What then?” Elizabeth spoke quietly, almost timidly. You heard Lady Worthington scoff “Oh, you will. We are going out as soon as possible to find you both new dresses for the ball tonight”.

“Oh mother, how exciting!” Mary cried, you could hear the chair scrape harshly against the wooden floorboards as she abruptly stood up from her seat, “We are going to be the most beautiful women at the Ball!”

“Y/N! Help my daughters get dressed! We will be heading out shortly, and make sure that the horses are prepared!” Lady Worthington shouted, the sound of her shrill cry causing a sense of panic to surge through you.

Coughing as you chocked on your food, you quickly wiped your mouth and fixed your skirts. “Yes, right away!” You called back, sighing heavily as you rushed back upstairs. Upon entering Mary’s room, your shoulders slumped in defeat. Clothes lay on almost every inch of the floor, dresses, undergarments, jewellery. This was going to be a tough morning.

Tag List:

@ladybirdbeetle7 @sweetsourpus @in-deans-arms @blackthorngirl @kee-0-kee

@sometimesminsan @prawntoastsworld @scoopsahoyspidey @darkness-falls-xo

@reallysparklychaos @hottie-bishop-belova @riptidewaters @jay-being-weird

@khhhhjj @golden-girasol @linnygirl09 @xoxonoire @stanmixtapes

@freyagallileaevans @gracielou0518 @judig92 @rafaaoli @queenslandlover-93

@esquivelbianca @fanfictioncafe @hjgdhghoe @sillynilly27

[janovavalen]

✧when social media calls so does the questions || walker scobell x fem!reader

summary: after fans have created more and more of a scene with y/n l/n and walker scobell they are asked about it in their first interview together.

warning: friendly reminder the people/faces i use are just for the aesthetic ofc imagine it’s you bc we’re on that level of delulu<3

as they day went by y/n sat in her hotel room with her dressers, makeup and nail artist all around . this was probably one thing y/n enjoyed about being who she was and doing what she did.

she got to say there while people made her look pretty at the amazing work they did on her. however, though some of the dresses and suits she had to wear were sometimes out of the ordinary or just tight in general, they always made sure to capture her natural color and make her outfits look beautiful on her.

today y/n would be getting interviewed after she got ready—so was aryan, leah and walker of course. she was beyond nervous, exited? but definitely mostly nervous. she hated when she had to sit in front of a camera—well, it came more naturally when she was acting because she wasn’t really being herself.

but when it came to being interviewed, she was half of the time being told what to say, monitored at all times and some other genuine answers were cut out. she guessed it would probably be more dramatic for the audience and the interviewer.

‘miss. l/n, your being called’ one of her managers called out to her as she was just getting her last piece of clothing on.

‘oh—okay!’ she called back. as her stylist got her finished up and ready she smiled and thanked everyone who gave her a huge smile back while they waved her goodbye.

but before she could leave, she obviously had to take some pictures.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

the second y/n stepped out of her hotel room was as if on the sam strike as the rest of her friends. aryan, leah and walker came out of their separate room with their outfits on.

leah wore a beautiful dress and her afro, aryan wore a simple green shirt and black pants and walker wearing a black jacket with dark blue jeans.

‘okay why is it only me and leah going all out for these outfits?’ y/n placed her hands out motioning to the fact the boys were dressed as if they were going out on a casual walk and y/n and leah to the met gala.

‘well…talk to my styalist with that because i can’t give you an answer’ aryan commented with a smile as y/n laughed a bit. holding her phone in her hand along with her purse.

walker had subconsciously found himself waiting for her to walk beside him which didn’t go unnoticed by aryan and leah.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

as the group walked outside was then the lights began flashing in a hurry. the dark sky around them already causing enough ruckus to other people trying to sleep in the hotel, y/n and the group has stopped to give the crowd what they want.

their pictures.

as they did y/n and walker stood arm to arm. him holding the back of his hand along the back half of her back.

while they smiled, waved, posed and did some silly things out of habit. they finally seen their car was ready, signaling it was time to go, so they all began to walk.

but as y/n did she had felt her shoe get caught on something causing her to stop for a second, walker behind somehow able to feel her presence stopped immediately and looked down to her shoe.

‘oh—wait i got it it’s okay—‘

‘no wait let me help’ walker pulled back and leaned down on his knee to see her heel was stuck on the vent of the ground outside. once he got it out someone yelled—‘it’s like a real life cinderella story!’ causing the crowed to awh and flash their cameras faster.

y/n placed her hand over her mouth and nervously laughed as did walker who placed his hand back against her back and let it hold there as they walked.

when they got in the car they immediately sighed of relief from the outside media not being able to get as good pictures but still tired of course.

‘i don’t think ill ever get over this—the lights might be the cause of me going blind to be honest’ leah mumbled while holding her head in her hands, enjoying the heat of the car in this time of day which was a bit cold outside.

‘yeah, i think we should i hide all night and only take pictures in the day or something so they don’t use pictures’

‘that just gives me even more the reason to stay home, so i’m going along with that plan’ y/n smiled at aryan who laughed.

as they drove to their destination, they all had to take pictures and of course videos for their spam’s and personal cameras rolls for memory’s.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

when they arrived to their interview destination, the four of them sat in their chairs.

leah and y/n sat next to each other. walker and scobell seated next to each other—so the order being leah, y/n, walker, and aryan.

‘okay, are you guys ready?’ the interviewer asked with a warm smile, they all nodded their heads and y/n gave a nervous thumbs up as she smiled making walker laugh.

‘okay, we’re on in—3,2,1–‘

looking a bit over at the camera pointed towards her she started—‘hello my name is racheal james and i am here with—‘

‘leah jeffries’ she smiled

‘y/n l/n’ she nervously twisted with her hands—

‘walker scobell’ who gave a smile and soon—‘aryan simhardi’ who waved to the camera.

‘hi! hello, welcome hope things went well as you got here?’

‘uh yeah—y’know, paparazzi, yelling, lights—it went amazing’ walker looked at the racheal who laughed, y/n smiled a bit while she touched a bit of her face as leah and aryan laughed a bit.

‘as usual, as usual—so! i have been dying to ask, how did you guys all get along when you were casted for percy jackson?’

‘uhm, we did pretty good? i mean i came in a bit late since my character doesn’t show up till episode four so i got a bit more time to pack at home but y’know, i think i get along with them amazingly’

‘yeah—i mean, when we all met y/n she was very warm and an inviting person, every funny and so energetic i just love her presence’ walker told while looking at y/n who warmly smiled and placed her hand over her mouth.

‘okay! the two of them!? i can’t! they always do this! it’s constant—‘ leah pointed at the two as she yelled and laughed making y/n and walker nervously laugh.

‘that’s what i was going to say! is it always like that?’ racheal smiled at them.

‘oh my—yes! all the time. on set, at dinner, hang outs—anywhere!’ aryan commented while y/n shook her head with a eye roll and walked just smiled, his face red.

‘okay but wait—so, as you all know, the comments on instagram are going insane over walker and y/n i wanted to ask how do you two feel about it? is it uncomfortable? is it truth or just fans being fans?’

‘uhm….i wouldn’t call them fans just more of very distant friends and family? but im not uncomfortable with it all all—‘

‘yeah no i’m not either, it’s kinda funny and amusing to see everyone piece things together more than some do in the show’ walker shrugged as y/n laughed.

‘ou? so, are you denying or backing up on the rumors that the famous (c/n) and percy jackson may be lovers outside of percy jackson?’

leah immediately looked at aryan who’s eyes snapped to walker and y/n.

the two of them nervously touched their faces while shrugging—‘i—um?’

‘yeah, so…y’know?’ the lot laughed as they watched the two teens nervously try to figure out what to say.

‘okay! i’m sorry i’m sorry to make you uncomfortable! let’s just move onto the next question yeah?’ she smiled while flipping through papers.

y/n placed her hand over her face and sighed deeply to calm herself as for walker who looked at her with a smile and a red warm face.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

about a couple hours later when the interview was done y/n and walker decided to split from the group who had happened to all want to go out to dinner just to hang out.

walker badly wanted to be with y/n but not when she was occupied with the other group, so he pulled her away from the group for a little bit just to talk which y/n didn’t mind in the slightest.

the two of them were standing on the sidewalk as they talked and laughed together.

‘when she asked what was going on in the comments i’m not going to lie i kind of freaked out like i was like—dude what the hell do i say? what do i do?’ walker revealed as he sheepishly moved a bit closer to y/n who did as well.

‘oh my god—same, i was so nervous i didn’t know what i was going to day next to try and recover from that’ she laughed as walker nodded his head in agreement while he placed a small hand on her arm which she didn’t take note of.

after a laugher died down a bit, the two of them stood in a bit of silence as they felt the cold air breeze past them. since y/n wore a outfit that had no jacket, walker had given her his jacket back at the restaurant after seeing cold chills on her arm.

as y/n held her arms with the jacket getting warmer, walker couldn’t held but admire how pretty she looked under the yellow light of the street pole next to them.

‘you looked really pretty’ he smiled as she placed a hand over her mouth to smile widely before placing it back down to her side.

‘thank you…your not too bad yourself’ she teased as he faked a gasp making her laugh. this only prompted him to go after her with his arms around her shoulders as she laughed out loud while he moved their bodies to the side aggressively.

her face being mashed between chest and arm.

‘oh my god! my makeup!’ she cried out with a laugh as he completely ignored her with his own laughter.

once they were done moving he leaned down to give her a kiss on her cheek making the both of them grow warm and red. she smiled deeply while placing her arms around his waist. the two of them embracing each other in the dead of night.

yourinstagram

liked by dior.n.goodjohn, leahavajeffries, aryansimhardi , yourmom and others 

yourinstagram if you guys don’t know…i’m literally terrified of doing almost anything thanks to final destination

view all comments

dior.n.goodjohn dude imagine the cars just blowing up out of nowhere while you guys were driving it…

↳ yourinstagram I WAS IMAGINING THAT THE WHOLE TIME WHILE WALKER JUST LAUGHED LIKE WHATS FUNNY?

↳ walker.scobell IT WAS FUNNY BC U WERE CRYING 😭!?

↳ yourinstagram that was supposed to stay between us.😒

↳ walker.scobell oh. 

iamcharliebushnell that’s insane you thought that while driving the whole time

↳ leahsavajeffries i would’ve just got off at that point 😭

↳ walker.scobell oh trust she tried but i didn’t let her leave me on there alone after i paid for that

user282 AHHH MORE WALKER AND Y/N CONTENT<33333

user200 they’re hand feeding us at this point bc omg😭

user1011 i literally love them sm—DID YALL SEE THOES PAPARAZZI PICS OF THEN CUDDLED UP OUTSIDE???

↳ yourinstagram PAPARAZZI PICS?

walker.scobell

liked by yourinstagram, leahsavajeffries, dior.n.goodjohn, aryansimhardi and others

walker.scobell i think y/n enjoys my phone more than her own phone

view all comments

yourinstagram i enjoy your phone bc u have storage 🧍🏽‍♀️

↳ walker.scobell OUUUU so just take all mine? got it got it

↳ yourinstagram DONT ACT FUNNY ON HERE BC U TOLD ME TOO U TOLD ME IT WAS OKAY!?

↳ walker.scobell *gulps*

dior.n.goodjohn LOOK AT MY CHILDRENNNNB OMG

iamcharliebushnell they grow up so fast☹️

↳ walker.scobell why r u guys acting like your nearing your eighties

user111 LOOK AT THEMMMNM OMG GGOGMGMGMGMGM

user1034 they’re cuties

user77 i can’t believe they’re actually together like someone don’t pinch me if this is a dream i don’t wanna wake up from it

↳ yourinstagram awh😭?

↳ walker.scobell okay this is adorable though

walker.scobell

liked by walker.scobell, dior.goodjohn, iamcharliebushnell and others

walker.scobell no comment

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dior.n.goodjohn GET THHHHHHHHHHHH SHHHHH OUT PF HERE OMG

iamcharliebushnell okay but how many times have they hung out without us is the real question

leahsavajeffries alright yall not to much

↳ walker.scobell HUH😭

yourmom i’m so happy you make her happy☺️

↳ walker.scobell awh mrs.l/n

↳ yourinstagram awh mom STOP☹️

yourinstagram that busted up camera ain’t give no promises

↳ walker.scobell that’s what happens when you drop it like thirty times…

user11000 LOOK AT THEM GUYSSSSSS AHHHH

user220 i’m so happy i shipped them the second i saw them on screen together and irl

user1479 the fact they are literally two half’s of a whole is proof soulmates are real

taglist: @callsignwidow

[shomatoriashi]

02/17/25; 08:34pm

sung jinwoo x civilian!fem.reader

notes: i'm so happy to dedicate my 100th oneshot to sung jinwoo (⺣◡⺣)♡

{ i can't lie, i trust you, i love you, i won't waste your time | i turn it off so i can turn you on | i'll make you say it out loud | i'm not even tripping, i won't stress you out | i might even settle down for you... }

there was something terrifying that came with being a simple human. after all, being a mere civilian while living in such a dangerous world was nothing short of a death sentence.

however, you suppose that was the reason why hunters awakened the same time these dangerous portals appeared throughout the world. humans that had the power and strength to combat the terrifying forces that these gates housed.

you, much like the rest of the world, treated these hunters like they were idols meant to be gazed upon with awe. each time a new gate appeared, they would risk their lives protecting the the people of earth while being celebrated if they came out victorious in the end.

yet out of all the national hunters that existed in the world, you were inexplicably drawn to one that went by the name sung jinwoo. the whole world knew of his perfect, cinderella-esque story where he grew from being the world's weakest to one of the strongest within a few month's time.

each time he would be captured within the glossy pages of a magazine or an article detailing his feats, you would cut them, keeping them all in a private scrapbook while admiring him and using his accomplishments to further inspire and motivate you in your own life.

you keep the scrapbook dedicated to jinwoo on your bookshelf, letting out a huff when you catch your reflection from the window's glass pane. not known to be much of a beauty, you purse your lips and run a hand through the tangles in your hair. embarrassingly enough, you often daydreamed about meeting jinwoo someday, making up pretend scenarios in your head as you basked in the thought of having his kind smile directed at you-

feeling the heat settle against your cheek, you banish those embarrassing thoughts immediately, reeling them in while reminding yourself that hunters like cha hae-in existed. you knew of the rumors surrounding jinwoo with hae-in, and truthfully, such a strong and beautiful hunter was a better fit for jinwoo than you could ever be.

a strange pang was felt on your chest, making you angrily swipe away at the tears. desperate to cheer up and feel better, you were determined to get out of your apartment and explore the streets of seoul for a nice bookstore, ready to bury yourself in a good romance novel while living vicariously through the main characters.

dressed comfortably in a hoodie and some jeans, you grab your bag and made sure you had enough funds in your wallet before stepping out of your home. breathing in the fresh air, you begin your trek out of your apartment complex, carefully treading down the concrete stairs while looking up the closest bookstore.

your search takes you to the heart of seoul, with you walking even deeper into the city before arriving at the store's address. letting out a huff upon realizing that it was across the street, you wait by the stoplight. only when the light turned red did you finally cross the street, eyes shining with excitement and joy at being surrounded by all the books.

yet before you could step on to the sidewalk, the sounds of a car's engine roaring to life makes you stop dead in your tracks. your eyes go wide, seeing the headlights of the sports car coming at you at a rapid pace. your heart sinks, knowing that you wouldn't be fast enough to avoid the impact.

"STOP!" a booming voice surrounds you, and you clench your eyes shut, preparing yourself for the incoming impact-

yet it never came.

a pair of powerful arms surrounds you, and you could smell the scent of his cologne while his hand remains outstretched, managing to stop the car with his bare hands, putting a considerable dent in it. with the vehicle forced to stop suddenly, you were dimly aware of how the cars surrounded you, causing an unnecessary amount of traffic-

your throat was dry, and you could feel your whole body trembling at the thought of being so close to death. lifting your gaze, you had words of gratitude for the man who had saved you-

yet upon realizing his true identity, the words died against your throat, for it was none other than sung jinwoo who had prevented your impending demise. your mind was in a daze now, merely staring up at the man with an almost awed expression. you could feel how taut his body had gotten when the owner of said car gets out of his vehicle. "oi asshole, you just put a dent in my baby! do you know how much money i spent on-"

"this shitty car is nothing compared to the life you had almost taken." you watch the way jinwoo's eyes glowed a dangerous, lilac hue, sizing up the man while keeping a protective arm wrapped around your shoulder

the driver recognizes jinwoo immediately and lets out a plethora of stutters. "s-sorry man, i didn't know it was you. i-i'm sorry for the trouble i caused, miss."

"get on your knees and properly apologize to her." you tremble upon feeling the deadly aura that suddenly surrounds you. not immune to the almost authoritarian aura that radiates from jinwoo's form, the careless driver kneeled down before you, pressing his forehead against the street while apologizing to you over and over again.

satisfied with his actions, jinwoo pulls you away from the scene before meeting your gaze. immediately, his expression turns softer- kinder even as he gently frames at your face, ignoring the commotion he had caused earlier while focusing his entire attention on you. "are you alright?"

it takes a herculean effort for you to maintain eye contact with him, feeling your heart pounding out of the confines of your chest as you could only manage to give him a nod. jinwoo lets out a hum, not straying a hand away from your shoulders as you felt the fabric of his shirt brushing against you. "where did you wish to go?"

you point at the bookstore settled behind him, with jinwoo flashing you a wide grin. "ah, is that so? shall we go in together?"

not even waiting for your response, jinwoo manages to take a hold of your hand, opening the door to the bookstore for you to step inside first. "thank you," you manage to tell him in a bit of a raspy whisper, willing your heart to stop racing.

but alas, not even the scent of newly printed pages could erase the anxiety and anticipation you felt with jinwoo standing so close to you. his fingertips kept brushing against your hand when you attempted to scour the aisles for anything interesting to read. eventually, your gaze lands on three books that had flowery covers and designs. with an eager nod, you decide to purchase the trilogy-

only to have jinwoo gently take away the thick tomes from your hands.

"ah, what are you doing, hunter sung?!"

"paying for these since you had a pretty shitty start to your day. and please, just call me jinwoo." he winks back at you, taking the books while heading towards the cashier's counter. you were unable to change his mind, walking behind him all while feeling like you were in the midst of a dream.

the cashier seemed to recognize him, freaking out while jumping up and down behind the counter. she asks if she could take a selfie with him, which jinwoo happily agreed to. for some odd reason, seeing jinwoo taking a picture with the cashier made a strange pang of envy course through your veins, but you try to bury those intrusive thoughts, simply waiting for jinwoo to finish with bated breath.

a few minutes later, jinwoo hands you the paper bag filled with the books he had purchased for you. a shy smile paints your expression as you held the bag close to your chest. "y-you didn't have to do that, but thank you hunter- i mean, j-jinwoo."

he meets your gaze and does the one thing you have always dreamt of. with grey eyes shining with mirth, his full lips were turned up in a smile while giving you a simple nod, "of course, don't mention it miss...?" jinwoo purposely trails off, making you realize that he was asking for your name.

clearing your throat, you turn away from him and tell him the syllables that make up your name. were your eyes playing tricks on you, or did jinwoo's smile seem to widen in response when he repeats your name (as if tasting it on his tongue)? the way your name rolls off his tongue causes you to shiver slightly in response, and you had a ridiculous thought of how you could get used to hearing him say it more often.

with the traffic and the douchebag's car gone, jinwoo escorts you back to your apartment complex. he makes small talk with you, asking you about all of your interests (ranging from your favorite foods to favorite color), filling you with a strange sense of warmth-

and jinwoo's kindness along with his willingness to save and protect you only serves to deepen your feelings for him. even as you were back within the safety of your apartment, you didn't wish to part ways with jinwoo, shyly meeting his gaze while brushing back your hair, "thanks again for... well, for everything."

a rich chuckle escapes from his parted lips, "don't mention it. i didn't mind protecting a pretty girl like you."

your knees clash together in response to his playful words, seeing his grey eyes take on a brighter hue. time seemed to stand still when he looks down at you, hands being oh so gentle when he frames at your face. you watch with wide eyes when he leans down (albeit a bit hesitantly) before murmuring fuck it as he presses a chaste kiss against your lips.

fireworks were felt going off within your head at the unexpected sensation of his lips on yours, and you shyly kissed him back, allowing jinwoo to delve his fingers into your hair, pulling you closer to him. he dives his tongue within your lips for a brief moment before pulling away, "i have to go, but... i promise i'll be thinking of you, sarang."

feeling like you were caught up in a dream, you allow jinwoo to tilt your chin upwards. he begins to grin at the dazed expression on your face, lifting up a hand to press two fingers against his lips in another kiss before pressing them against your lips once more. you stayed glued on the spot, not leaving until jinwoo was out of sight as you gave your arm a hard pinch to make sure that you weren't dreaming.

still in a haze, you enter your apartment and slam the door shut. sliding down the hard surface, you let out a shuddering breath and bask in the different emotions that you were feeling-

giddiness-

love-

adoration-

and a strange sense of belonging.

letting out a breathy laugh, you take out one of your books and open the cover-

only to see a single card with a message and a series of numbers:

i never believed in love at first sight-

until now.

xxx xxx-xxxx

sjw

end notes: jinwoo how do i love theeeee. what i wouldn't give to have you protect me and experience the love at first sight trope with you 😭🙌🏻

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[citrustan]

dating girl (jjk) #2.1

pairing: jungkook x reader (hoseok x reader too kinda)

summary: you try to convince yourself that you're really okay with 'casually dating' your crush.

genre & note: college au, fwb kinda thing but more than that ygm? angst! again hehe and uhh this is a follow-up, here's the original drabble.

Jung Hoseok's a nice guy. He's beautiful and intelligent. A dancer. The kindest man you've ever met.

He's the kind of guy who holds the elevator door for you even when he's running late. The kind who offers you his charger even when his phone's lower on battery because you're a woman who needs a functioning device more than he does, just in case. He's the one everyone secretly craves.

The Halloween costume party was today.

You agreed to go with Hoseok the day after you saw Jungkook with the leggy blonde. When he never bothered to respond to your previous messages, you figured it was for the better.

Hoseok briefly met your mother when she hand delivered your costume. He loved your matching outfit idea but arranged for his own.

The entire time she was there, your mother kept making eyes at the two of you. She saw the way he cared for you; how he sliced your apples and made you cinnamon toast.

Every time he left the room, your mother squealed and slapped your arm in excitement.

You think that was her way of trying to get you excited about Hobi.

Hoseok is the one you want to want. But your mind always wanders back to that other man. The same man who ghosted you for a week.

Hoseok may buy you apples and slice them for you, but Jungkook peels them. Hoseok makes toast but Jungkook bakes fresh bread.

It's not a fair comparison, not at all. But you're smitten with the man.

Jungkook just... does these things. When you're together, it's fireworks and blooming flowers. The chemistry you and Jungkook have is unmatched. And he knows it.

Perhaps that's what scares him so much?

At the last minute, you decide to add some rhinestones on the bridge of your nose to make yourself look more ethereal and sprinkle some glitter on your bare arms and legs. (_____ from the following morning says she hates you btw.)

If it weren't for your glitter-dusted tooth-stick and your diamond and tooth-encrusted tiara, you'd look like an angel. You're pretty pleased with your execution though.

Hoseok told you he'd meet you at the party directly because he ran into some stuff that needed to be handled last minute. Which was alright because the venue was a ten-minute walk from your place.

Your wings were perked, your mini skirt poofed, and your lips glossy.

The skin-tight lace top was a good idea because it let your skin breathe, you definitely would not run hot in this outfit.

You stuck a few bills in your garter. There was space for your phone too for when you're at the party.

As much as you'd have liked to have the sexiest, highest heels on, you weren't built for it. Kitten heels were more your style anyway.

On your way to the hall, you had come across plenty of other partygoers: Light & Misa, Cinderella, a hospital patient with an open gown, a termite? All very creative. You almost felt basic.

You scan the area for Hoseok.

Finally spotting him not too far from the velvet ropes, you scurry over to him. He waves with both hands like he’s genuinely relieved to see you.

“Wow,” he says as you approach, taking in your cute outfit and wings. “The tooth fairy herself. I feel honoured.”

You laugh, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “And you’re the dentist who makes it rain teeth. Nice stethoscope, it looks... real.” You didn't think dentists used them.

Hoseok smiles, holding it up like a prize, "Yeah, it's my roommates'. He let me borrow it for a night. Says I owe him candy now."

"Hm. Shouldn't you be warning him against that?"

"Huh... I guess I do." He chuckled.

You wave your tooth wand at him and wink.

You lift your skirt a little to access your little garter purse and tuck your phone in it. Hoseok looks away to give you your privacy.

"All done." You shyly smile. You take a second to fix your skirt.

The two of you linger outside for a moment longer, watching as groups of people filter into the hall.

Hoseok turns to you, “You ready?”

You nod, and he offers you his arm to hold onto.

Hoseok prepaid for your tickets so you could skip the queue.

Linking your arm with his, you walk inside together.

The venue is already overwhelmingly loud and the decorations are over the top.

As usual, the student body had outdone themselves. They probably bought out all the tinsel in the neighbouring cities.

"Woah." You hear Hoseok exclaim softly. You hum in agreement.

Almost instantly, you find yourself scanning the crowd before you even realise what you’re doing.

And then your eyes fall on him.

He’s standing by one of the drink tables, dressed in black leather pants with buckles on them and a leather jacket that went with it.

What's he even supposed to be?

And then you see it. The same leggy blonde from the cafe.

She clips something on his hair--- devil horns. Of course. That definitely suits him. His hair is styled messily, the way you’ve always thought suited him best, and a faint dusting of glitter catches the light every time he moves.

You realize, too late, that you’ve been staring.

“You okay?” Hoseok's voice cuts through the fog in your mind. He’s still smiling, but there’s a flicker of concern in his eyes.

“Yeah,” you say quickly, tearing your gaze away from Jungkook. “Just... taking it all in.”

Hoseok's not completely oblivious. He knows about you and Jungkook. You've been very transparent with him.

He doesn’t press, instead guiding you toward the drinks table.

You smile softly at him. You can't help but feel a pang of guilt because Hoseok deserved your full attention tonight.

He deserves someone who isn’t busy looking for someone else.

But before you can dwell on it, Jungkook notices you. His dark eyes lock onto yours, and for a moment, everything else fades almost cinematically; the music, the lights, the people, even Hoseok's and the blonde's presence.

His gaze flickers briefly to Hoseok, and something unreadable passes over his face. Then he smirks, before turning back to the girl beside him.

Your stomach twists. What the hell?

You felt lightheaded and frail.

A simple GLANCE does this to you?

You were paper, you'd have folded in a second. You felt weak and pathetic all over again.

You're so beautiful tonight, you don't deserve to go through this tiring cycle again.

Hoseok hands you a fruity looking drink, “Here." His warm smile comforts you, "Non-alcoholic, just in case the tooth fairy needs to fly home later.”

You force out a little snicker, "Thank you, Hobi."

You clink your glass against his, doing your best to ignore Jungkook on the other side of the table.

You’ve made your choice tonight. And it’s not Jungkook.

At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself.

Jungkook was beating himself up internally.

Was it really worth it to procrastinate on responding to your text? You look so lovely tonight and it sucks that it's all for someone else.

He could see you made an effort to dress for the theme, unlike himself who slapped on the only somewhat dressy clothing he had. It was either this or a groom. And he'd rather not give Yeona any ideas.

By the stealthy glances he threw your way, Jungkook figured that Hoseok wanted to take you to the dance floor.

"I see Hobi. Let's say hi?" He asks his date. Yeona doesn't have a chance to agree because he's already grabbing her hand and tugging her with him.

Before Hoseok could whisk you away, Jungkook swiftly approached you two.

The first thing you notice is the blonde holding onto him.

"Hoseok hyung, I didn't think I'd see you here!"

"Ahh, JK, how's it going?" He gave him a side hug.

"Great." Jungkook smiles back. Then looks at you, "Hey."

It’s casual, like he’s just bumped into you in class, not walked up to you at a party with another woman on his arm. You nod in response.

Yeona’s gaze flickers to your costume, her face polite but confused. “Oh... are you supposed to be an angel?”

You blink, caught off guard.

Before you can answer, Hoseok steps in, voice light and cheerful, “Not quite. She’s the tooth fairy. I’m her dentist.” He gestures to his stethoscope like it’s his badge of honour.

“Oh,” Yeona says, a little sheepishly. “That’s cute.”

Well, yeah! It was cute. Unlike whatever they were.

And what even were they?

Jungkook bad stupid devil horns and Yeona adorned a floor-length, red gown. She looked regal.

You tilt your head, narrowing your eyes slightly, “And you two are...?”

Jungkook answers this time, “Hades and Persephone.” His tone was pointed.

You stare at them for a moment, taking in the obviousness of it all. Of course. He's Hades incarnate alright.

Then you let out a dry, unimpressed, “Huh. Groundbreaking.”

Jungkook’s eyes snap to yours with something sharp flickering across them, like you’ve just crossed a line or something. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Hoseok looks a little taken aback as well.

Ok, you did not mean to sound so bitchy. You couldn't help it.

You shrug, feigning innocence, “Nothing!" But then demon _____ arises, "Just... not very original, is it?”

Yeona glances between the two of you, clearly picking up on the tension but unsure of what to do with it. “It’s a classic,” she says quietly, her voice kind but hesitant.

You smile slightly. “Sure,” you reply, your tone bordering on dismissive. “If you like classics.”

Jungkook’s jaw tightens just slightly, “Wow. Is the attitude part of the costume or is that just for me?"

Hoseok clears his throat beside you, sensing the shift in energy, but you ignore him.

Your eyes stay on Jungkook, challenging. “Didn’t realize you knew what an attitude looked like."

Subtle, _____.

You refuse to backtrack, "I wasn't trying to be rude. I guess I was just never a fan of the whole... king of darkness look.”

He smirks, though there’s no humour in it. “Could’ve fooled me. You’ve been staring since you walked in."

.

.

Oh, my God. JERK.

You wish you could punch him in the face.

Your cheeks heat, but you refuse to look away. Your tone falters a little though, “D-don't flatter yourself.”

Jungkook knew he had you then.

Yeona shifts uncomfortably, her hand tugging lightly on Jungkook’s arm. “Jungkook, we should-” - “Yeah,” he cuts her off, still looking at you, “We should.”

There’s a pause. He lingers, staring you down, like he’s waiting for you to say something--- anything. You don’t.

You just hold your ground, fingers tightening around your cup.

“See you around,” Jungkook mutters finally, allowing Yeona to pull him away. She gives you a little scowl before whisking him away. You deserve that.

You're too embarrassed to even look at your date now. He has probably changed his mind about you now that he's seen you and Jungkook in full action.

You just watch them go, feeling Hoseok’s eyes on you as the crowd swallows them up.

After a beat, he speaks cautiously, “So... you really don’t like Hades and Persephone, huh?”

You let out a shaky breath, yet again forcing another small smile, “Guess I’m more of a tooth fairy kind of girl.”

That didn't even make sense but it was ok. Hoseok didn't push any further. Because HE is an angel.

Hoseok laughs softly, draping his arm around your shoulder, “Come on, fairy. Let’s get you another drink before you start a fight with anyone else.” You nod.

You down the drink he hands you in seconds and shake your head. Ok. Everything's fine.

Hoseok spots another friend of his and allows you a minute by yourself to re-centre.

The music shifts to something slower when Hoseok makes his way back to you. He steps closer, offering a hand, “Dance with me? Forget about it for a while.”

You look at his outstretched hand and take it without any consideration. If Jungkook is able to do this, you must be too.

Hoseok leads you, past many swaying couples, to the middle of the dance floor.

After a minute of awkwardness, you fall into a rhythm, holding onto his shoulders as he wrapped his arms around your waist. He was warm and you felt wanted. You lay your cheek on his chest and sway with him.

Yet again, your thoughts wander to Jungkook. You keep remembering the way he looked at you. He was so focused on you. That couldn't have been your imagination. He was such a dick though.

How could he just talk to you as if he hasn't ignored you for a week? Your brows furrow unknowingly.

Like clockwork, your eyes find Jungkook and his date. It's like a knife in your chest.

You're fucking jealous. He's holding her close and they're gazing into each other's eyes. This isn't a fucking wedding. What are they doing?

You can't stand them. They're actually just obnoxious at this point.

He's whispering things to her. You don't ever want to know what.

She has her arms placed around his neck; an action you unintentionally follow with Hoseok.

Speaking of Hoseok--- “Hey,” Hoseok says, leaning down a little so you can hear him over the music. “You’re not still thinking about him, are you?”

You blink, startled, and pull back just enough to meet his eyes. “What?”

He grins, his eyes twinkling with mischief, “I can tell. You’ve been quieter than usual. He’s not worth it, you know.”

Your lips twitch, “Who? Jungkook?”

His smile widens, “Yeah. I mean, you could do better honestly.”

Hoseok's the best date ever. If you were in his shoes, you'd have left.

"I'm not..." You trail off. "Sorry. This must be the worst date ever for you."

When he didn't refute, you felt worse. "Hobi, I'm so sorry."

"Hey, I knew what I was getting into." He rubs your back. "Listen. If this is too much for you, maybe we should..." He trails off. Hoseok didn't really have a solution in mind. He looked to you for one.

You begin thinking out loud when you're interrupted by Hoseok who puts a finger up asking you to hold your thought.

You feel Hoseok’s hand slip from your waist as he pulls out his phone from his pocket.

He glances at the screen, his eyes squinting slightly before a soft sigh escapes him.

“Sorry,” he lowers the phone, “I’ve got to take care of something. My roommate just broke the new stethoscope he bought, and he wants the old one back before it gets ruined too."

"Ah. Okay. Yeah, that's fine, let's just go." You nod along.

"No, you stay. I'll just be a few minutes, alright?" He stops from walking away with him, "20 minutes tops."

"Oh, ok. Alright, I'll wait." You agree.

Hoseok gives you a little side hug before scurrying off. As he leaves he hurriedly speaks, "Thank you, _____. I won't take too long! Call me if anything happens, okay?"

You nod once again, "Okay! Don't worry about me."

While you know that Hoseok didn't actually leave you, you still feel lonely.

What you don't realise is how Jungkook has been keeping track of your every move.

the next installment: dating girl (jjk) #2.2

note: it was way too long for me, so i'll divide it into two parts. please, please, please lmk what ou think of this!

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 172 }

touch starved.

jinwoo sung x fem.reader

were you slowly losing your mind-

or was sung jinwoo finding excuses to touch you?

he had always been the slightest bit cocky when conversing with all the other hunters that surrounded him, and you were no exception. during each conference that spoke about the various gates that began to appear all across the world, an almost bored expression would paint jinwoo’s features, his arms crossed over his chest while he haughtily boasted.

“there’s no need for concern. i assure you i can take them all on. just give me the coordinates and the gates will be no more within mere hours.”

hearing the undertone of sheer confidence within his voice made you nearly roll your eyes in response, but you retained your professional demeanor and sat with your lips tightly pursed.

after all, jinwoo was the pride and joy of his nation- no, of the world, with the chairman of the association bending over backwards to suit his every whim. sure, you acknowledged how powerful jinwoo was-

but that’s all jinwoo was to you.

a powerful hunter that made raids easier for lesser known hunters like you-

a mere means to an end.

you held no stars in your eyes for him like cha hae-in did.

you did not believe his strength warranted any special treatment from the chairman.

and you certainly believed that his metamorphosis from being known as weakest hunter in the world to now the strongest was bathed with complete and utter suspicion.

(but you digress.)

his cinderella story aside, jinwoo was just a man with whom you shared a mutual goal with. and truly, you couldn’t fault him too much for wishing to show off his prowess so long as he kept his word and fought to protect others (a feat he never once shied away from.)

your cheek was pressed against the palm of your hand, and you felt your eyebrows furrow at the sight of the half-empty conference room. it seemed as though the other members have left, leaving you alone with the infamous sung jinwoo himself.

you straighten up suddenly, looking awkwardly around the room only to realize that even the chairman had left. damn, were you so caught up in your reveries that you missed the meeting’s dismissal?

and why was jinwoo still here?

he meets your gaze and gives you a smile. “tired?”

you shake your head, ignoring the embarrassment that threatened to creep up on you. “you could say that… how long was i here in a daze?”

“hm, about 10 minutes since the conference ended.”

“then why are you still here, too?” you ask him in a cold manner, a hint of annoyance painting your features.

“i felt bad leaving you all alone here, so i stayed back.”

your eyes go wide, hearing the sincerity in his voice as you felt your heart clench just the tiniest bit in response. clearing your throat, you shove yourself away from the table and stood from your seat, running a hand across your hair to hide your awkwardness. “well, you didn’t need to… you should have gone home anyways…”

a rich chuckle was heard coming from behind you, with jinwoo’s casual footsteps heard getting closer to you. “but i felt bad leaving you behind.”

your mouth was open in a gape, turning around to see jinwoo still smiling down at you. you had many questions circling around your head, like how he could possibly notice you or why he even cared-

yet your words end up dying against your throat when he reaches out to touch at your face. the sensation of his large hand caressing at your cheek makes your heart sputter in response, skipping a few beats before racing within the confines of your chest.

jinwoo suddenly leans forward, giving you the perfect view of his face when he uses the pad of his thumb to swipe at something across your cheek.

“sorry, there was a lash that fell there.” jinwoo chuckles before giving you a wave goodbye, wishing you a goodnight as you slowly began to seethe when he walks away from you.

what even was that interaction?

did jinwoo act that way with all hunters of the opposite sex?

and just what truly prompted him to stay behind?

you end up shaking your head while letting out a groan, pressing the palm of your hands against your cheeks as you tried to fight back the heat that kept threatening to rise against your skin.

letting out a sigh, you finally left the association building, unaware of the way your shadow seemed to lengthen in response to your movements.

{ … }

ever since the day of the conference, you purposely avoided jinwoo.

admittedly, it wasn’t a difficult goal to accomplish, since you were a mere b-rank hunter. you were pretty much given lower leveled raids (raids that were completely ignored by all the rest of the powerful hunters). you raked in a decent amount of money with your findings and continued to live a pretty normal life in your one-bedroom apartment. in fact, you had become so used to the routine you had made that you all but forgot about jinwoo and the memory of his lingering touches.

but it seemed as though luck wasn’t on your side when you decided to head out on a particularly slow day, ready to run some errands-

only to become completely startled when jinwoo appeared directly in front of you.

his sudden appearance made your heart jump out of your chest, a choked and pathetic scream escaping from you as you tried to calm down your rapidly, palpitating heart. “what the hell, jinwoo?! you nearly gave me a heart attack…!”

jinwoo’s face remains expressionless, eyes glowing a subtle, purple hue when he takes your hand and forces you to follow him. “come with me.”

his strides were quick, and you could sense the annoyance wafting off of him when he tightens his grip around your wrist, leading you to someplace a bit more private within the bustling city of seoul.

finding an empty alleyway, he gently places your back against a concrete wall, trapping you against him when he places both hands above you. his handsome features were turned down in a scowl, and the intensity of his gaze made you look away in response.

with a grunt, he places a hand beneath your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze as his rich voice fills your ears, “why have you been avoiding me?”

you click your tongue, “don’t get so cocky. the world doesn’t revolve around you, jinwoo.”

“i know that.” jinwoo hissed while gripping at your chin in a tighter manner, “but that doesn’t make it hurt any less when you have become my world.”

your mind was spinning, and you felt your mouth open and close several times. what did he just say…? was he practically confessing to you?

“why do you care so much?” was your whispered reply, making jinwoo let out a huff in response.

he doesn’t answer you for several seconds, choosing instead to wrap his arms around your back to fully embrace you. your face was pressed against his chest when you heard him letting out a sigh, “indeed, that is a good question. why do i care?”

he spends a few moments, deliberating on what to say before speaking once more, “to be honest with you, i don’t know myself. i’ve always been so used to everyone falling to their knees for me, worshiping me.”

ah, there it was again, his cockiness and arrogance shining through as you tried to muster your strength and push your body away from him. but jinwoo was relentless in his embrace, simply tightening his arms around you to prevent you from escaping him.

“normally, i can take a hint and ignore those who have a dislike for me. i wouldn’t even bat an eye, but it’s different when the person doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

you gasp when jinwoo suddenly picks you up, wrapping his hands around your sides as he held you above the ground. your heart was pounding upon seeing the look of pain warping jinwoo’s handsome features. “so i kept observing you, wondering why in the hell you were so determined to disassociate yourself away from me. at first, i observed you as a mere means to try and interact with you, so i spent weeks taking note of your likes and dislikes… all while basking in your little quirks.”

jinwoo’s confession made your head spin, with each syllable that falls from his perfect lips becoming more passionate, “the more i watched you, the more i had this urge to get under your skin, to make you think of nothing but me-“

“and those feelings got warped into wanting to make you fall in love with me, so that you would never leave my side.”

shaky breaths were felt coming from your parted lips when jinwoo slowly brings you back down to him. “so i apologize, but my methods of trying to flirt with you made me become a bit touched starved for you.”

“touch starved?” you shakily repeat those words, earning a hum from jinwoo.

“what can i say? you’ve driven me completely insane, my love.”

and when he gently pulls your head down, forcing your parted lips to meet with his in a kiss, you felt something blossoming from deep within you. as if your heart had been awakened by such a simple touch, you delve your fingers into his hair and kissed jinwoo back with a fervor, earning a groan from him.

time had become meaningless to you, making you lose all track of it the moment jinwoo pulls away from the kiss first. a smirk paints his stupidly handsome features, and you had to stop yourself from smacking him the moment he playfully licks his lips at you.

knowing that he had somehow won, jinwoo puts you back down on the ground, steadying you when your knees threatened to give out. letting out a rich chuckle of your name, jinwoo places a kiss against your hair while wrapping an arm around your waist, leading you out of the alleyway and back into the city.

“hey, where are you taking me?” your words were filled with a feign annoyance as the breathy quality of your voice betrayed your true feelings (feelings that pertained to never wishing to leave his side and all that gross, mushy stuff you read about in romance novels.)

jinwoo gives you a cheeky grin, running a hand down your back while telling you, “i am going to take us out on a long overdue first date… so you better take responsibility for making me wait for so long, sarang.”

you forced yourself to look away from him, wishing to hide the grin that was quickly spreading across your features while clinging to his side-

perhaps you had become quite touch starved as well?

a.n. - and it’s back to fluff (/ω＼) my absolute favorite genre to write for!

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[bbunnyyy]

★ SHINSOU X READER

▻ Summary: You and Shinsou get caught by his mentor. [implied fem reader, aged up characters.]

▻ Fluff, awkward stuff, hope you like it <3

☁ I try to hide it in my face and it don't work, you see through that I just wanna get with you... ☁

A/n: good luck to those of you who have exams!

What is this, a funeral? Play some music: You right by Doja Cat

☀︎

You walked into the lounge behind the staff room to check on Eri. Present Mic being your mentor and Eraserhead being Shinsou's, you both had special privileges. One of them being steaming hot coffee on cold days.

Eri was lying on her tummy on the floor, colouring with pastels. "[Onee/ Onii] -san, you're back!" she exclaimed joyfully, jumping into your arms. You chuckled, catching the small child and encasing her in your arms. Eraserhead had put you on Eri-watch duty since he'd be busy for the rest of the evening. "Look! Look! I drew Papa Mic and Dada holding hands in front of their house and You and Onii san holding hands in the yard!" Eri showed you excitedly. "You're so good at drawing, Eri-chan!" You exclaimed while kneeling down to the now beaming girl's level. "Wait a minu- Why are me and Shinsou holding hands??"

"Mmm. Very interesting." A voice came from behind you, which you responded to with a squeak. Eri ran into the Shinsou's arms, the artwork now forgotten. "Shin! Don't scare us like that." You said while telling him off. "Oh, boo hoo. I can't help that you're a scardey cat." Shinsou said, rolling his eyes and walking towards the sofa. "You sneak up behind a person and then make fun of them for being surprised? What a bleak time to live in." You tutted, shaking your head sarcastically. "Enough bickering, Y/N. There are more important matters at hand, like watching Cinderella." Eri cheered happily as you sat on the couch, Shinsou starting the movie. Eri cuddled into you as she sang along to the songs, having watched the movie before.

"I'll head to the vending machine, Do you guys want anything?" You piped up, feeling thirsty. Eri, absorbed in the movie with her mouth agape shook her head half-mindedly. Standing up, you made your way to the corridor. Looking out the windows, you saw the trees gently swaying in the wind, highlights of the golden sunlight illuminating the bark. It was almost sundown, you thought to yourself. Sensei would be back soon. Standing in front of the machine, you kicked it. The darn thing was acting up again. Your head turned at hearing soft footsteps from the other side of the corridor. It was the purple-haired idiot dragging his feet along the floor, yawning while rubbing the back of his head. "Eri's asleep so I thought I'd give you some company." Shinsou said, mid-yawn. "Hmph. Like I'd savour your company." You stated, pursing your lips.

Shinsou backed you into the wall. "Speak up, pretty girl." Shinsou smirked while looking into your eyes. Smirking yourself, "In simpler words your pea brain can understand- you're boring." Tilting his head, Shinsou closed the gap between you two. "That's not what you were saying last night." He said, now nipping at your neck. "We should stop Shin, we need to get back to Eri-chan." You two jumped away from each other when a loud yawn interrupted your moment, the both of you looking in the direction of the disturbance. Eri was walking towards you two, sleepily rubbing her eyes. "The movie's almost oveer.." Eri wailed, putting her hands up wanting to be picked up. Big bro Shinsou swooped in, picking her off her feet.

☾

Shinsou put a cranky Eri to sleep as you stood leaning on one of the desks while looking at the now-black sky through the huge windows. You yawned, feeling sluggish yourself. You made a mental note of the things you'd have to do when you got back to the dorms. Rubbing your eyes, you looked at Shinsou who was now walking towards you. He stretched his arm to reach behind you, turning the lights down to dim the room. Your eyes wandered the room, falling on Eri, whose chest rose and fell as she breathed softly. Shinsou moved to stand in front of you, placing his hands on your hips and nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck. His hands snaked up to your back as you held him close, wordlessly. "Tired?" You chuckled, running your hands through his hair to comfort him. "I think I should change my name to Mr.Eyebags at this point." Shinsou joked, his hands now roaming your body.

You let out a gasp as your body made a 'thud' sound as it came into contact with the desk. Your hands were above your head, held firmly in place by Shinsou's muscular arms. You tried to wiggle out of his grasp, whining about how Eri was in the room and how Aizawa Sensei would be back any moment. Shinsou hunched over you, shushing you by placing a slender finger on your pouty lips. Not wanting to look at him, you turned your head in rebellion. "Oh, is that how you're going to play princess?" Shinsou said, pinning you down with one hand. Shinsou tickled your tummy and you resisted your very best from giving in laughing. You burst into a fit of giggles along with him just when you heard someone clearing their throat as the lights in the room flickered on.

Shinsou widened his eyes. "S..Sensei." Shinsou stuttered, trying to explain himself. You sat up, mortified. "Shinsou. Y/N." Aizawa said, pressing his temples. "How long has this been going on?" Aizawa questioned you both shifted your weight from one foot to another awkwardly. "A couple months." You piped up, your gaze falling to the floor. "We weren't gonna keep it a secret forever." Shinsou said, walking over to you. Aizawa shook his head. "I'm not saying I'm against it." Aizawa stated, now looking at you both. The silence in the room was loud, the three of you staring at each other. "....Is Yamada Sensei going to hear about this?" You questioned, wishing you could be buried a few thousand feet under the ground. "You bet." Aizawa shrugged, turning on his heel to walk towards the sofa. "Set a good example for your younger sister." Aizawa said, side-eyeing you both while picking up Eri who was still asleep.

Shinsou and You stood in silence for a while after Aizawa stepped out the room. "Wanna walk back to the dorms together?" Shinsou proposed, resting his hand on the small of your back. You nodded. "Sensei is never going to let go of this." You groaned, imaging the amount of teasing you'd have to endure from your mentor and Aizawa Sensei. "Good thing we're graduating soon, eh?" Shinsou said, poking your stomach with his elbow.

[sprout-fics]

I had a dream last night of a beautiful black drag queen evading not one, not two, but five cops in a parking garage. At one point she dropped her purse and she still managed to pick it up and sprint in high heels to the garage railing (we were on the second floor) and parkour down the building and onto the street, losing the cops in the process. She left behind an earring like Cinderella. A calling card, perhaps.

[breekento]

hello! I love your fics on Higuruma on AO3! wanted to ask if you take any requests for Prisoner!Higuruma who survives culling games and turns himself in jail, but reader regularly visits him and waits for his release ?🥹 A bit of angst but fluff at the end please 💞

thank you for being my first fic request! I probably won’t write these as long as my fics on AO3 because it would take me months lol! But these are fun writing practices for me!

(wc: 1.6k, no smut, just pain and fluff)

“How are you sleeping, doll? Are you getting everything you need?” His voice crackles through the phone.

Your fingers tremble, squeezing the phone so tightly you were surprised it didn’t crumble in your grasp. “I guess so,” you reply in a small voice.

“I don’t like the sound of that, baby.”

You knew better than to lie, he was intelligent and ever observant of every hitch or quirk in your voice. “I just miss you, Hiro,” you say shakily.

He sighs deeply on the other line. “I miss you, too, doll. More than you can ever know. You’re still coming to see me tomorrow, right? I need to see that beautiful face.”

“Of, course.” How could you forget? It has become your weekly routine. Every week, the night before your visits with Hiromi, tossing hangers draped in clothes over your head in search of the perfect outfit. Open toed, too short, mesh, crop top. At some point you would need to go shopping for appropriate clothes to visit your boyfriend in prison but for whatever reason, it felt as if you were accepting defeat.

You knew very little of Hiromi’s mysterious work-life and he liked to keep it that way. The world of sorcery was foreign to you and your knowledge was shallow. Hence, the ringing in your ears, the numb feeling on your fingertips as your brain struggled to connect the dots on that day.

“I just don’t understand why you’re doing this to me, Hiro,” your voice was raspy, tears flowing down your face as you followed him out of the door.

“I can’t tell you,” he says, cold and distant as if he were desperately trying to disconnect from the harsh world around him.

“Look,” his voice is softer. His hands cup your face, lip distorted and eyebrows twisted upward in agony. “I’ve done bad, bad things. I can’t live with myself like this. You don’t want me here.”

“B-but how do you know? You don’t know,” you fumble over your words.

“I’ll be gone for a while, doll,” his forehead pressed against yours. At that moment, it felt doable. How long? Why? What have you done? You never asked, worried that you wouldn’t accept the answer.

Years had passed and it was doable. Not short of late nights, curled under the covers, fingers searching for the smell of his cologne and hair gel. Elbow stretched as far as you could reach, hand fumbling for the zipper on the back of your dress. Shit, if Hiromi was just here. Small tasks felt big.

Sitting behind your desk, mindlessly searching through your emails as a thinly faced coworker pops her head over the cubicle. “Are you going to the office pot-luck tonight?” She beams.

“Oh,” you jump in your seat. “I have plans.”

She frowns, resting her head on the half-wall. “You never do anything.”

You shrug, looking toward your computer screen. Explaining that you’re visiting your prison boyfriend was not something you cared to delve into with a superficial level of coworker.

The clock strikes 5:00pm and you are your own version of Cinderella, tossing your purse over your shoulder and striding towards the door. Only in this story, you weren’t running away from the probability of your carriage turning into a pumpkin. You were running toward your murderer of a boyfriend, clinging to that 30 minutes of quality time.

It couldn’t have been Hiromi. Not your Hiromi. The Hiromi who stayed awake late at night, holding your body close as it ached on your monthly. The Hiromi with tender fingers that grazed your skin covered in bubbles as you leaned against his skin as warm water poured over the two of you. The Hiromi who replaced the fresh flowers on your dining table every week, knowing you loved the scent. He couldn’t have been a killer. Surely it was for a reason. Was there such a reason?

“I’m here for Hiromi Higuruma,” you say through the window.

The guard’s eyes flicker to yours. Nodding before lifting the phone to her ear. Taking your cue, you sit in the waiting chair. Your legs bounce in anxiety, it never got easier.

The door swings open, a large guard standing in the doorway. Gathering your things, you walk toward the room. The room you knew too well. The tension in the air dissipates as the tall, dark-haired man stands before you. Even in this state, he was strikingly handsome. His hair, slicked back with strands falling forward onto his brow. His lips curl into a smile, eyes twinkling at the sight of you. His orange jump-suit hangs off of his body, wrists clasped together by handcuffs.

“There she is. My beautiful girl,” he purrs as you join him at the large table. It was just the two of you, and the guards that lined the perimeter. How romantic.

In his usual gentleman fashion, he waits for you to find your seat before sitting down himself. You adjust in your seat, face heating up as you scan his face.

“I missed you,” you say bashfully under his intense gaze.

“God. You get more beautiful every time I see you.”

You lean against the table, propping your head on your hands, “When are you ever going to get out of this place?”

“Funny you should say that,” he says with a grin. Your eyes widen, lifting yourself off of the table. “I have a date.”

Your mouth dries. “A-a date?”

“Doll, I’ve been here for 6 years. In a few months, they’re letting me out early for good behavior. Well, parole,” he says with a grin.

You stand from your seat, jaw slack and eyes rapid fire scanning his expression for any sign of a joke. “Y-you’re coming home?”

His eyes soften, looking up at you with those gorgeous sleepy eyes. “I’m going home, baby.”

Every muscle in your body wanted to lunge forward, wrapping your arms around his neck and tackling him to the ground. You haven’t even touched the man in years. You opt for covering your mouth with your hand.

“Keep holding on for just a few more months, doll. I’ll be home before you know it,” his eyes are kind.

“15 minutes,” the voice from the guard echoes throughout the empty room.

“My life here is boring. Tell me about yours. How’s work? How’s the house?”

He had truly set you up for success. You stayed in his home, completely paid for and taken care of by him. You didn’t have to work but you feared insanity spending your days alone in his large house. Brushing your teeth and watching his, dry and unused black toothbrush beside yours. His loafers that sit in the doorway, unworn and clean.

“Work is boring. They had a potluck tonight. My boss somehow thinks I’m the biggest idiot in the world while also piling more on my workload,” you say. It felt silly to complain about your mundane work tasks while he lived here. But he hung on your every word, soaking in the way your lips curled and eyes creased.

“Oh and I spent hours getting rid of weeds last weekend. The second you’re out of this place, that’s your job,” you say with narrow eyes.

He chuckles, leaning forward in his seat, “It will be my pleasure, baby.”

“It’s time,” the guard says. Each week, shattering your heart little by little. You stand, unable to stop the tears welling in your eyes.

“Don’t cry, darling. Not much longer. Just stay strong for a little longer,” his voice pleads.

You nod, using balled up fists to wipe your face. You watch him stand, towering over you as the guards guide him back to the mysterious place he now lived. He turns his face to catch your eyes, face sad as he watches the human form of his heart shatter before his eyes.

The door shuts and once again you are left alone. Only a few more months. Those words propelled you, every action you performed had a meaning suddenly. When you couldn’t reach something on the top shelf, when you couldn’t lift the garbage bag over your head, when you ran out of toilet paper you thought soon he will be here.

And soon came quick enough. You stood in front of your full length mirror, adjusting your sundress that fell over your curves. Your hair was fluffy and soft, draped over your shoulders. He knew what you looked like but you needed his first sight of you to be special, breathtaking.

With shaky hands and clammy feet, you stand outside the prison. If you weren’t leaning your body weight against the car door, you probably would have fallen over. You tap your foot anxiously, any minute now.

The door creaks open, a tall, lanky man dressed in black jeans and soft white shirt, the outfit he had left on that day. Before you could tell your feet to quit, you were running, no, sprinting towards the man.

He matches your speed, arms wrapping around your body as he lifts you from the ground. You bury your face in his neck, giggling through tears that coat his white t-shirt. His muffled laughs find your ears as he spins you, holding your body tightly. It had been years since you felt his hands on your back, his breath in your ear.

“I love you, I love you,” he chants against your face. He set you down, pressing both of his hands on each side of your face. “Let me get a good up-close look at my beautiful girl.”

Your cheeks blushed red under his gaze, “Let’s go home.”

[reidsaurora]

Can you do height difference + "one more kiss? please?" with Hotch? Pretty pretty please with Mick Mars on top? <3 - V

hmmm i wonder who this could be 🤔😉

"Coffee + Kisses" ~ A. Hotchner

pairing: aaron hotchner x wife!reader

summary: "mornings were made for coffee and kisses. at least, that was aaron's philosophy."

word count: 740

warnings: a single swear word, mentions of food, that's literally it

genre: tooth-rotting fluff, quite literally with all the sugar references in this blurb

extra notes: the aaron icon in the collage is by @ssa-sapphic (edited to fit theme better!) and the dividers below are by @firefly-graphics

masterlist | kissing prompts | ask box

mornings were made for coffee and kisses. at least, that was aaron's philosophy.

most people looked at the stoic figure that was aaron hotchner and assumed he was brash and hubristic, emotions on a completely different plane of existence from his physical form. but you? his trophy wife? no, you got to see every hidden layer underneath his apathetic walls, your own little personal slice of heaven.

so while most people assumed aaron's mornings were spent with his nose buried in the newspaper, black coffee in hand, they couldn't be further from the truth. this man was all homemade iced lattes, sugary cereals, and good morning kisses.

that last one may or may not be how you ended up here, nearly ten minutes late for work, coat and purse still hanging up by the door, one shoe on and the other nowhere to be seen.

"i have to get up," you'd told him. "unlike you, i unfortunately have to work on saturdays."

but when he gave you that look, that sweet pout that made even a grown man look innocent, you couldn't say no. one kiss turned into two turned into three, kisses turned into five minutes of snuggles, and now you were here, rushing around the house and tracking down your missing heel like a modern day cinderella.

"aaron, have you seen-"

as if on cue, the man—still sporting his pajamas and bedhead, his chin dark with a five-o'clock shadow—rounded the corner, missing heel in hand. "sammy apparently needed a snack," he chuckled, bending down and putting the shoe on for you. he stood back up to full height, somehow still towering over you, even with your extra three inches of artificial height.

"sammy needs a stern talking to for stealing his mama's shoes," you kidded, tossing your arms over his shoulders. even you wondered how aaron, the seemingly heartless man that he was, fell in love with the tiny ball of fluff that had apparently stolen your shoe.

"i'll definitely be in contact with him," he joked, pulling you up for a soft kiss. he tasted like cinnamon toast crunch, a strange juxtaposition from the manly smell of his deodorant, but not an unpleasant one. suddenly, you worried about what your own breath tasted like, making a mental note to eat a couple tic-tacs on the way to work just in case.

you forced yourself to pull away, being met with a disapproving pout from the man above you. to anyone else, his height might've made him seem intimidating, but you knew aaron was nothing but a gentle giant, akin to a teddy bear in human form. "i have to go," you reminded him, still not having unlinked your arms from around him.

"just one more kiss?" he said, his bottom lip jutting out like a child in a toy store. "please?"

and who were you to deny him, the absolute love of your life, just one more kiss? despite the logical part of your brain telling you not to give in, the absolutely smitten part of your brain won, practically telling the other part to go to hell.

you leaned up once again, your lips locking with his for one last, sweet, good morning kiss. his palms settled on your hips, holding you as close as possible, a gentle gesture in hopes of changing your mind about going to work that day. and little did he know, you were close, oh so close, to calling in sick. to making up a fake family emergency. to just saying, "sorry, i simply don't feel like it."

but in the end, you knew it was for the best to suck it up and go to work anyway. after all, the time spent apart only made the moments together that much more special, that much more worth it. "i have to go, love."

he gave you one last peck, releasing his hold from your hips. "fine, i'll just be here," he said, falling back on the couch dramatically, "longing for you, my dear."

you giggled at the sight of this grown man acting like a character in a shakespeare play. "you're so dramatic," you commented, heading for the door.

not having moved from where he lay after his performance, he shouted, "love you too!"

"love you more!" you called back, closing the door behind you swiftly. you shook your head, giggling. what were you going to do with him?

-> taglist: @1234-angelika @lowsodiumfreaks67 @drayshadow @alexxavicry @cordyandbilliehavemyheart @the-lucky-ones311 @mercuryvapours @darkloverfox @sammyrenae68 @cherrycandle @asgardprincess97 @gh0stgurl @esposadomd @randomwriter1021 @eddieharrington @paintlavillered @lavhoes @rhyanishere @namorswhore @danielle143 @handsupforamiracle @topguncultleader @ah-blossom @reidselle @dungeons-are-too-cold @bbbbbbbbbbbbbbl @louderfortheback @reidsbookclub @annahargrove @cwritesforfun @maelartasch @lover-of-books-and-tea @juismissing

[robthegoodfellow]

Let's Hear It for the Boy

Praise Kink for Day 3 of @harringrovekinktober

(roommates, kink experimentation, billy is a good boy, nsfw)

Steve felt like a real asshole when Robin asked out of the blue one day, maybe a month after he and Billy became roommates, if Billy was paying part of his rent in labor. Shave some off if he agreed to be your housekeeper? And, at Steve’s incredulous bafflement, had clarified: Every time I’m over he’s cooking or doing laundry or—cleaning shit! To his horror, a highlight reel started up in his mind, a montage of Billy doing all those chores and more, and worse, Steve realized he’d contributed approximately nothing to the daily maintenance of their shared living space. Steve! Robin had scolded, correctly interpreting his guilty grimace. 

So he’d promised to talk to Billy about it—assure him that keeping the place sparkling was in no way required or expected or—or if that was just how he preferred to live, then he’d promise to do his fair share from now on. Only, bringing it up over pizza and beer, a basketball game on TV, had produced an unexpected reaction. Billy… kinda… froze? Went bug-eyed, like Steve had caught him with his hand in the cookie jar. He looked embarrassed.

“Man, it’s fine,” Steve said, tripping over himself to explain—put him at ease. “I really don’t care either way. I just wanted to check and make sure you knew I wasn’t gonna, like—kick you out if you let up on the Cinderella routine.”

Billy flushed more, beet red, and Steve resisted smacking himself in the face. He was fucking this up so bad.

“I mean—”

“I don’t mind,” Billy mumbled, avoiding Steve’s eye as he reached for his beer. “I like it.”

“Okay,” Steve said, over the top encouraging. “Great. Well, I’ll at least pitch in more—”

“You don’t have to do that.” Billy’s throat worked, gulping, plush lips pursed on the can. Steve blinked, shook his head, tuned back in to catch the muttered aside, blue gaze locked on the Michelob commercial. “It’s all good. Nothing has to change.”

Why the hell was he being so weird about this? Did he think Steve couldn’t chip in? Pull his own weight?

“Just because I grew up with a nanny doesn’t mean I don’t know how to do stuff. Vacuum and dishes and—”

Billy grunted, annoyed, throwing his shoulders back to wedge himself into the couch, a mulish slouch. “Just drop it, will ya? I like things how they are, so what’s the fucking problem?”

“All right, jeez,” Steve cried, holding up his hands. “Touchy.”

They were quiet, both ticked, but the kind that would drain away by halftime. Except—he felt shitty just leaving it like this, having semi-acknowledged that Billy was acting like his maid.

“Is there anything I can do?” Steve asked, his tone deliberately mild, not looking away from the freethrow swishing on screen. “That you don’t like?”

No explosion—good sign. After a long, loaded pause, Billy sighed. “Take out the trash.”

“Got it,” Steve said. And let it go.

But from then on, he kept watch, determined to figure out the source of the weirdness. Almost positive it wasn’t a control freak thing or a neat freak thing—it wasn’t like the apartment was pristine. It was more that… everyday, Billy had done something obvious enough that Steve commented on it—always had. Nothing major, just Oh, hey—you got that stain out of the carpet or Holy shit, it smells so good—what is that? or How’d you unclog that drain? Wasn’t like he thanked Billy, though he probably should have been—although maybe Billy didn’t want him to make a big deal out of it?—but he’d always notice and say something admiring because Billy was good at stuff. Good at so much stuff.

He started taking out the trash, and Billy never let on that he noticed, but Steve thought he did. And he kept up the compliments whenever Billy did something nice, since that hadn’t been explicitly forbidden. But since he was paying more attention now, he—noticed some things. Only when he was pretending to look elsewhere, monitoring Billy in his periphery or in the reflection of the window or decorative mirrors his mom had foisted on him. He noticed that, those times, Billy sort of… ducked his head, hiding a grin that bordered on… bashful? And his shoulders bowed a bit, like he was—curling in on himself. Like—in delight?

Like—he secretly really liked it? When Steve noticed he’d done something nice? When Steve said something nice about it?

So… he decided to test it. Nothing too overbearing or obvious, just—instead of merely noticing, he was sure to compliment. Because why not, if Billy liked it and still wouldn’t let Steve lift a finger except on garbage day?

Good became his go-to. This tastes so good. That looks so good. Good, good, good.

Which is when it clicked for him—that Billy didn’t do chores and stuff because he liked the chores. But because… he liked Steve’s reaction?

And—that would explain his weirdness. Why he didn’t want to talk about it. Like maybe he was worried Steve would think Billy liked being his bitch or something—Steve winced, anticipating the whack from the Robin who lived in his head—not that Steve thought of him that way.

…Though if he didn’t mind Steve thinking of him that way—or even liked it, then…

Well, Steve didn’t—dislike that. Like the general concept. Held a certain—

Anyway, in the interest of further—ah, testing, Steve mentioned, casually, on his way to work one morning, “I’ve been craving that pasta salad you made.”

Billy cut him a glance over his coffee where he was hunched at the kitchen table. Grunted, and Steve quirked a grin, tossed him a salute goodbye. It wasn’t even a lie—the pasta thing—he’d been salivating at the memory. This version with Italian dressing instead of mayo, with olives and stuff. 

Lo, late that afternoon, when he got back, there was a big Tupperware of it in the fridge. Billy wandered in halfway through his second helping. They paused, wide-eyed at the sudden charge buzzing in the air, and Steve’s stomach clenched.

“It’s—good,” he managed, hands suddenly clammy around his fork and bowl. Billy was staring at Steve’s hands, held awkwardly aloft where he leaned on the counter. The stare was strangely heavy—hooded lids. Steve cleared his throat. “You—did good.”

Billy’s cheeks were as flushed as that day on the couch, watching basketball, insisting he liked—

Abruptly aware his boner was starting to tent his shorts, Steve turned to face the counter, ducking to shovel more pasta in his idiot mouth. Heard Billy go to the cabinet, fetch a glass. Fill it. Walk back out.

Heaving an unwinding breath, Steve set down the bowl, let his elbows bear the weight of this latest sexual awakening.

So that was a thing, apparently—and for Billy, too, potentially. Probably. Because, without quite meaning to, they fell into this little routine where, before Steve left for work, he’d pause, and Billy would look up from his coffee, and Steve would mention something—a rental movie he wanted to see, or a sale at the liquor store, or if Billy would mind throwing Steve’s whites in with his so he’d have a shirt to wear to this meeting later in the week…

And the VHS would be waiting on the counter. And a six-pack would be waiting in the fridge. And his shirt would be washed and ironed and waiting in his closet. And everytime Billy would be lingering nearby, not quite meeting his eyes, and Steve’s pulse would pound even though technically there was nothing sexy about an ironed shirt, and Steve would say Good. You did good.

Billy would sometimes clench his fist, when Steve said it. Or squirm in his seat a bit. Or swallow, throat bobbing. Color rising. And the sight hit Steve like a load of bricks. A load of bricks to the head.

It was the weirdest game of gay chicken—scrambling to find mundane tasks for Billy to complete for the prize of a pat on the back, when all Steve wanted, and he bet Billy felt similarly, was to order Billy to his knees.

He thought about it whenever they were on the couch watching TV, whenever they were eating in the kitchen or drinking on the balcony or passing each other outside the bathroom in the morning.

So he tested further. Came home and went to see if Billy had done it—and there he was, standing by Steve’s bed. The neatly made bed. 

Steve’s heart was rabbiting out of his chest, too on the fritz to form words, and his feet weren’t much better, charting a crooked, clumsy course until they were toe to toe, Billy’s gaze downcast, his lips parted, breaths shallow. 

He didn’t know whether it’d sound stupid if he said it out loud, what he’d been wanting to say for days—whether Billy wanted to hear, or would consider it a step too far.

They’d come this far, though. Steve wet his lips, took a calming breath, and Billy seemed to brace for it. “Good,” Steve said, and it came out breathy. “Good boy.”

Billy curled—did that thing where he ducked, hunching around something invisible—and the sound punched out of him, this pained gasp. Steve’s hands moved on their own, reaching to cradle Billy’s head, step close to whisper in his ear, his brow at Steve’s shoulder: “Good? Is this good?” Felt more than saw him nodding. “You want to be good for me?”

“Fuck,” Billy whispered—bit wheezing. Wet. “Fuck.”

“What do you want?” Steve asked, fumbling at his heated neck. “What do you—?”

“Be good.” It was mumbled, cringing. “Wanna be good.” A shaky inhale. “Make you feel good.”

Steve’s blood was roaring everywhere but his brain—would’ve fallen over if he weren’t clutching Billy. “Want that, too.”

He heard a thready laugh, and Billy straightened, leaning back into his hold, face tipped, lidded gaze on Steve’s chin. “So?”

So what’ll it be?

Buying himself time to gather his wits, some composure lest he combust, Steve tilted his head, assessing. Adjusting his hold, ran a thumb across Billy’s lower lip, firm enough to pull at the skin. “Want this.” Another swipe, exposing teeth, his curving tongue. “Make me feel good with this.”

A tug at his belt, and Billy was nodding, making short work of the button and zip—movements quick and precise. He sank, kneeling at Steve’s feet, tugging the pants to hang at midthigh, and finally looked up. 

Steve swept blond curls off his forehead. “Like you like this.”

Billy stared, eyes gleaming. Seemed to be—waiting.

“So good like this,” Steve corrected. “Now show me how good.”

Swaying, Billy buried his face in Steve’s briefs, nosing him through straining cotton, and huffed hot air at the crown. Steve compulsively gripped fistfuls of hair, still using Billy’s ears as handlebars, and resolved not to let go—to let Billy show him.

And, boy, did he. Laved at his dick until the fabric was soaked, the white gone translucent—white gone flushed pink, twitching under kitten licks—and Steve was on the verge of begging when a pull at his waistband freed his cock, bobbing only a sec before swallowed in Billy’s grip, fed into his greedy mouth.

Steve’s entire vocabulary had been reduced to one word, babbled at the ceiling behind closed lids: good, good, good, only sometimes it came out guh, guh, guh. One hand cupped the back of Billy’s head, and it was when his hips were on a steady grinding roll that he realized he’d caged Billy against him, locked the gulping heat around his cock as he plugged toward the peak.

Billy wasn’t struggling, though—his fingers biting into the meat of Steve’s ass, moaning so deep in his chest that Steve felt it more than heard it.

Steve grappled for a new word—close, close—but Billy didn’t stop, didn’t let up a second, and when Steve grunted his release, the throat worked around him still. 

The moment Billy pulled off, lungs heaving, face ruby red and shining, Steve flopped to his knees, blindly reached for Billy, draping loose arms around his neck, his ribs, waiting for his own breaths to slow.

“Was it,” Billy asked, tight. “Was it—?”

“Good,” Steve said, huffing a laugh, coasting hands across the bellows of his back. “So good—you’re so good. Always so good for me.”

Billy burrowed his face into Steve’s throat, his collarbone, looping him in an uncertain hug. He was hard, pressed against where Steve’s clothes gaped open. Working a hand between them, Steve rubbed his palm along rigid heat. 

“What do you want?” he asked, nuzzling the nest of blond. “Since you been so good?”

A shudder ran up the sloping spine. Steve smoothed his free hand down to Billy’s waist and back up, waiting.

“I—cleaned the shower,” Billy said, halting. “I could—show you, and—?”

Steve kissed his temple, quick, so helplessly fond. Overwhelmed.

“Good boy wants a wash?” Steve suggested, and tightened his arms when Billy tried to do his pillbug thing. “Be my good boy,” he said, hushed, nosing Billy’s flushed ear. “You want to?”

And Billy curled again, only this time around him. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah.”

.

Now with added sequel: Let's Give the Boy a Hand

[sacklerscumrag]

a little snippet of my single dad!clyde logan x nanny!reader i've been writing (this is probably my oldest WIP ajsfnhsjafj) ....

Things with Clyde hadn't simmered down in the slightest. Every interaction, every glance, every accidental touch had your yearning growing. Every moment spent together allowed you to quietly admire something new about him. The way his chest filled out those t-shirts he often wore, his hair that begged to have your fingers tangled in it, or even how he pursed his lips in that way that had your core clenching whenever he spoke. Not to mention, seeing him with Lyla made your knees weak. This gentle giant's soft demeanor melted your heart while twisting your insides in the most delicious way. Still, Lyla kept you more than busy; otherwise, you'd spend your days daydreaming about Clyde Logan. Today was no different. Building forts and baking cookies had been the first thing on the itinerary, and knowing Lyla, there was always more to come. When she'd finally fallen asleep watching Cinderella on the couch, you carefully tucked her into her bed and quietly exited the room, shutting the door just as Clyde entered the trailer.

"Hey." You whispered as Clyde set down his stuff and went to the kitchen. "I just put her to bed."

"Thanks. Sorry, 'M late. Bar kept gettin' crazy n' I just couldn't get away. It's-" You cut him off by placing a hand on his arm, feeling him tense under you.

"Clyde, it's okay. That's what I'm here for, remember?" You winked at him before walking toward the kitchen to put away the rest of the dishes. Clyde headed to the fridge and pulled out two beers. Your cheeks warmed, watching him lean over with one sturdy arm on the fridge door, the muscles on his back rippling under the worn-down t-shirt while the two bottles fit snuggly in his large hand. Get it together, you told yourself, forcing your gaze away.

"Beer?" Clyde gestured toward you. "I was jus' gonna have one on the porch." The words tumbled from his mouth without realizing. He knew it was a bad idea, but he couldn't help himself. You looked all comfortable, your books and blanket on his couch, standing here in his kitchen, in his home, moving around like you belonged there. But Clyde wasn't stupid; his head was definitely playing tricks on him. There wasn't a universe that existed where a woman as beautiful as you would be interested in a guy like him, and he understood that. Now the only problem was keeping his heart and dick in check long enough to be professional. 

[ghost-proofbaby]

Hi!! I’m your friendly neighborhood Swiftie BEGGING you for Eddie - Sparks Fly

sparks fly (eddie's version)

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff. mutual pining. the works. <3

wc: 2.1k+

a/n: this one got mad cheesy. maybe a little too cheesy. idc. i had fun with it.

“You know, one of these days, you’re gonna have to talk to Ed,” the older bartender, Phil, muses as he wipes down the counter behind you. 

You hardly hear him over the current symphony of electric guitars, riveting bass, and crashing drums filling the Hideout. You had one focus tonight, just as you did every Tuesday and Friday night, and that was the band on the stage currently commanding an even larger audience than last week. 

You’d seen it coming. Building crowds, more buzzing conversations around town in hushed tones about the band that owned the stage of the hole in the wall. You’d stumbled upon them by accident, coming in and telling yourself you were just grabbing one drink after a particularly rough shift. But one drink immediately turned into four that night when the band had taken the stage, playing song after song, keeping you glued to that bar stool and completely enamored with one particular boy on stage.

Eddie Munson. 

Every time you watch him command that stage, wild hair and vibrant eyes, it’s like the first time all over again. You can’t get over his wicked grin, the way he puts his entire self into each performance, the rasp of his voice – you’re down bad for a man you’ve never even properly spoken to.

By some miracle, you tear your eyes from the stage, swiveling to face Phil, “Excuse me?” 

“Ed. You know, Eddie,” he repeats himself, leaning both palms on the bar, “He notices you, you know? Always asks me where you ran off to after their set’s done.” 

Your heart is suddenly in your throat, embarrassment red hot in the pit of your stomach, “H-He notices me? Why would he notice me?” 

“You’re at every show. Even before they started getting a proper crowd. The damn boy hasn’t shut up about you since that first night,” Phil pauses to hand off a beer to another patron wordlessly, “You’re lucky you pay with cash and not card, or I’m sure he would’ve tracked you down outside of here by now. Calls you his Cinderella.” 

Like a clock chiming midnight, the final tinny note of the set rings through the bar, and you can hear that rasp of Eddie’s voice booming through the speakers.

“We have been Corroded Coffin! Thank you very fucking much!” 

And just like clockwork, you’re rushing to dig into your purse, yanking a twenty from your wallet and smacking it onto the bar before grabbing your drink to down the last of it. 

“I’m not Cinderella,” you choke out over the residual burn of the alcohol, face still scrunched up as you glance over your shoulder to see the boys have already left the stage, “I just like the music.” 

“The music,” he hums, “Right. Well, your money’s no good here tonight, little miss Cindy,” he reaches out, and with a singular fingertip, pushes the cash back towards you over the sticky wood. When your mouth opens and closes in confusion, Phil’s eyes flicker up towards the side door beside the stage where a commotion has begun, signaling that the band is coming out, “It seems the music likes you, too. So much so that he demanded I add your drinks to his tab tonight.” 

The coals of embarrassment burn even brighter, igniting you from the inside out. Your hand flies out, grabbing back the twenty and shoving it aimlessly in your purse. You keep looking back at the crowd, catching glimpses of dark curls over the small sea of people singing their praises, watching your seconds run out in real time. It’s not that you didn’t want to speak to the man who has had you captivated for several months now; you were just mortified that he’d noticed you in that crowd, noticed the way you attended each show. 

One of these days you’d talk to him. But tonight, you had no bravery left for such boldness. 

“You’re gonna have to leave behind a glass slipper for the boy eventually,” Phil only chuckles, watching you fumble to clasp your purse before you shoot up from the stool, “Hey, hold on-”

“Another night, Phil!” you call out, not even looking back as you make a beeline for the bar’s exit. 

If you had, you would have seen your favorite ring that Phil was holding up, the one that you had taken off your finger to fiddle with endlessly before sitting it down at some point without thought, now left behind like some kind of glass slipper. 

—

You were late. It was Friday night, the day had been a nightmare, and you were fucking late to Corroded Coffin’s show. 

Your attendance had never faltered like this before. You were always right on time, sometimes five minutes early once the crowds doubled in size in order to secure one of your regular seats. 

The deviation from your routine has you reeling, amongst other things. Your Friday had simply been shit.  A nonstop rampant attack on your sanity, one thing after another testing what was left of your patience. You’d slept through your first two alarms this morning, you hadn’t realized you were out of coffee creamer until you’d grabbed the scarily light container of it this morning, you had to take a dreadfully cold shower rather than waste precious minutes letting the water warm, you’d worked through your lunch to clean up a mess made by your coworker – the list goes on and on. 

You burst through the entrance of the Hideout, probably looking a bit crazed, stopping dead in your tracks when you realize two things.

One, It’s fairly empty. And two, Corroded Coffin is not on the stage. 

“Look who decided to show!” Phil calls from his place behind the bar, waving dramatically to you, “Cinderella!”

“Phil, for the last time, I’m not-”

“Your favorite band canceled tonight, I’m afraid,” he bulldozes right over your retort as you approach one of your usual stools.

Your brows furrow, “Canceled? Is everything okay?” 

Phil’s mouth opens. But it’s not his voice that answers you. 

“Gareth’s sick.”

A voice you’d only heard on the stage, through crackling speakers and enthusiastic addresses to a crowd. A voice you had never heard one-on-one, and for good reason. 

Your breath escapes you as you turn slowly, facing the man you’d managed to elude for months now. 

“Pardon?” you squeak out, voice hardly audible. 

Eddie still grins shyly, hearing you loud and clear due to how uncharacteristically quiet the bar is tonight, “Our drummer, Gareth – he’s, uh, sick. Sorry to disappoint.” 

He’s just as captivating up close as he is on the stage. There’s still something wild in him, something electrifying that he seems completely unaware of. 

“Don’t apologize,” you’re still whispering, internally cursing yourself for it. You probably look ridiculous right now; you can only picture your starry eyes and parted lips, looking at him with palpable shock, hardly able to utter a word, “I- I’m not disappointed. There’ll be other shows!” you stammer your way through your words, and when Eddie only continues to look at you with gentle amusement, the softest ripple of possible nerves from the way his hands shoved into his pockets, you continue to over explain yourself, rambling on, “I just- I, uh, hope he feels better.”

“Yeah, me too,” he nods in agreement before he buries his hands even deeper. Suddenly, as if he’s found something in those pockets, his face lights up in delight, “Oh! Hey, I-” his left hand pulls out of his pocket at lightning speed, still curled into a fist as he thrusts it into your direction, “I think this might be yours.” 

Slowly, he unfurls his fingers, and in the center of his palm rests your ring. You had assumed it was lost to the fire, that it might have fallen off at work or outside your apartment, never to be found again. Just another thing to add to your checklist of things gone wrong. 

And yet there it was, like a perfect glass slipper, right in the palm of Eddie’s hand. 

Your nerves are all but forgotten as you get giddy, reaching out without thinking to take the ring from him. A gentle brush of your fingertips against this palm, and you swear you feel sparks flying from the minimal contact, “Oh! Oh my gosh! Thank you, I-” you slip it on easily, smiling widely before you look up at him gleefully, “I thought I’d lost it for good. Thank you.” 

Eddie turns bashful, tilting down his chin and letting stray curls fall in his face that half hide his own contained grin. If the lighting in the bar had been better, you would have caught the pink spreading across his cheeks. 

“And so the prince finally meets his Cinderella,” Phil mutters from behind the two of you before he suddenly smacks his palms on the countertop, “Alright! Well, if you two will excuse me, I have to…. Do some stock count in the back,” a blatant lie, “Don’t burn the place down, yeah?” 

Eddie snaps out of his daze to look up to the older man, mock saluting him in a way that has an involuntary giggle leaving your lips. In an instant, he’s looking back down to you, almost surprised at the sound. 

Cheap bar lighting can no longer hide his blush. Or your own adoration.

“The bar is yours! Make good decisions!” Phil continues to shout as he moves to the backroom, voice fading with each step.

Finally, you and Eddie are alone. 

“And then there were two,” he murmurs, taking a step closer to you, finding something brave in him at the way you’re looking up at him in reverie. 

The rockstar that had been enchanting you for months from a distance. The man who had been occupying all your thoughts far too much for having been a stranger. 

This is your chance. No more hiding at the back of the bar, only admiring him with the safety of a crowd between you two. No more wondering, no more imagining, no more pining. Time stands still, not a single clock daring to strike midnight as the electric currents between you two come to a rise. 

“Say,” you say right when he looks to be preparing himself to speak first. It’s time to be bold, take a risk, no matter the costs. “Do you… Do you want to grab a drink?” 

His wicked grin is even better right in front of you, directed at you, “Well, he did say the bar is ours. What’s your poison?” 

“Jack and coke?”

He shrugs, still a vibrant fool, like a schoolgirl with a crush, “I’ve been known to have a heavy hand with the jack, but… I think I can manage that.” 

Electrifying, pulsing, the beginning of something new. You can see it now – the way you’re going to cling to his arm when he makes you laugh so hard you nearly fall off your chair, the way he’ll be able to charm you better over a jack and coke than he ever had been able to from behind a guitar, the way those eyes scream trouble. And yet at the end of the night, you know he’ll still walk you to your car through the empty parking lot. He’ll probably use the excuse of the bad weather looming overhead. When the sky finally breaks open and the first drops of rain fall, neither of you will be brave enough to admit what you both already know. Tonight’s not the night for kisses in the rain or talk of what-ifs. 

That’s fine. For tonight, the sparks of something new are enough. 

Eddie moves to walk behind the bar, but you throw out a reckless hand to catch him. Your first curls around his forearm for the first time tonight, and even with the layer of leather that separates skin, you can feel it. “Hey, did you really call me your Cinderella?” 

Flashes and arrays of what’s to come flood both of you. It’s only the first drink. It’s only the first night.

It won’t be the last. 

“I mean,” he nods subtly down to the hand holding him, where your ring glitters on your middle finger, snug on your knuckle, “If the ring fits, right?” 

He’s right. The ring fits. 

And a different ring fits years later, after all those kisses in the rain and many more jack and cokes that Eddie never quite perfects. And you’re still right where you belong, front row at every Corroded Coffin show, Eddie’s own personal Cinderella. When the clock strikes midnight, he’s no longer afraid – he knows you’ll be coming home to him now. 

Phil only laughs when he receives the invite, chuckling to himself at the chosen theme for the two idiots that once haunted his bar who now had moved onto bigger and better things.

A gothic fairytale wedding, on a Tuesday night. How fitting.

"you touch me once and it's really something. you find i'm even better than you imagined i would be."

[thesharkwhalewhoohooooo]

Red x fem! Oc

In which the daughter of the Mad Hatter and the daughter of the Queen of Hearts have been twisted friends for a while.

Red ran through the alleyway, all the way up to the castle walls, until she inevitably got trapped there.

Before the guards could fully close in on her, she got pulled up from a pair of arms around her waist.

"Hey princess Rose." Mary smiled at the princess, who smirked back at her as she wrapped an arm around her neck to stabilise herself a bit more.

"My dad's not gonna be happy with you." She warned as they approached the hatter's tower, Red merely rolling her eyes.

"Also, he has a surprise for you! How exhilarating is that!" Mary hoisted her up a bit more, so she wouldn't slip, before Red could respond.

"You what's the surprise?" Mary shrugged, smiling down at her.

"I don't spoil surprises! You'll love it!" She grinned as they finally arrived, she swung the rope she was holding onto a bit, and she let go so they fell through an opened window.

Mary landed with a smooth roll, standing up in the same motion, whilst Red rolled and stuck to the ground, leaning against her friend's legs.

"Hi dad."

"Hey Maddox." The hatter sighed at the princess and his daughter, both looking at him, one with a smile, the other with a mischievous smirk.

"You really ought to stop one day, she'll find out and not be happy! I cannot keep sending my daughter towards an impending doom!" Red rolled her eyes, getting hoisted up by Mary and let herself fall back onto a chair.

"I finished it..." hatter finally spoke up once his daughter had taken off her coat.

"Really?"

"Yes, the time machine." Red shot up and went towards him, trying to snatch it out of his grasp.

He pursed his lips and slipped it into his coat, shaking his head.

"No, going back in time can be harmful to those who remain still, I cannot give it to you until you've grown in time." Red frowned, looking over at Mary, who even though she was devoted to her, wouldn't betray her own father.

"Okay. Well, doesn't matter anyway, because I can't even get out of this rabbit hole."

-

"Her royal majesty, my queen, it appears that there is a letter, from Auradon." Mary spoke up from behind Red, her father rushing towards them with it.

"Majesty!" The queen of hearts waved her hand and the letter started, it kept everyone captivated, the first sight of anything Auradonian in almost two decades, what a momentous occasion.

"I won't go if Mary can't." Red stood her ground, the queen sending Mary a warning glare.

"Princess Red, I must remain here, I have duties in court-."

"As my personal maid, so yeah, you're coming with."

"- and i'd much prefer simply seeing you off, as the invite only is for you, and your mother seems to be delighted by this new opportunity." Red rolled her eyes, looking at her mother with a dead panned stare.

"She's coming with me or I'll just escape that wretched institution."  The queen sighed, waving everyone off.

"Either you go, or she gets her head chopped off."

"But what am I supposed to do without my personal maid, you don't suppose I'll have to get a new one!"

"You don't need a maid there."

"I do! How dare you try revoke my right as a princess."

-

Red won, and Mary got to go with her to Auradon prep, an institution for the good and the even better.

"Mary!" Red whisper yelled as soon as her mother stood up on the stage, Mary quickly moving to stand behind Red.

"The watch." Mary muttered as she passed her princess, who quickly grabbed it and held onto Mary's hand.

"Let's go." Red was about to start it when Cinderella's daughter tried to pull a sword on the queen, and Red rushed in to try and stop her from getting executed, Mary staying behind in an attempt not to get executed too.

When they disappeared, she felt relieved, but deep inside also saddened.

"Where did she go." The queen turned to Mary, who was not sure herself.

"I would not know my queen, I shall search the highest of lows and the lowest of heights in my pursuit of my princess." She kneeled down as she spoke, keeping her head low and eyes trained onto the ground as she waited for the Queen's response.

"Mh. Don't fret it, she'll return soon." She didn't dismiss Mary, of course she didn't, and of course Mary just had to have kneeled into a small shard of stone, her knee starting to bleed from the constant pressure and the shard.

"Cinderella's execution shall be now!"

-

Prince Charming glanced at the girl kneeling a bit behind the queen, and the small puddle of blood around her knee, as he was being restrained.

"Where is my wife! Where is Ella!" The queen laughed at him, gesturing at Mary, who quickly stood up, her knee wobbling a bit as she stood up straight and went to grab the cushion with the glass heels.

"My queen." She kneeled next to her, her bloody and wounded knee on the ground, and held up the red pillow.

"Here.... Is my Ella." Mary looked up slightly with an arched eyebrow.

"Your Ella?! She chose me! Over you and your monsterly-." The queen threw the heels at his face, they broke, and cut his face open.

He silently stared at the broken glass, limp in the soldier's hold.

"It appears that she chose you until the very end."

-

"I cannot believe that I had to leave Mary because of you!" Chloe scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"What? Couldn't leave your maid behind?" Red took a step closer to her, eyes narrowed.

"Don't disrespect her like that, at least I know I can trust her."

"Yeah cause she fears you, not the same." Red nearly launched at her and killed her right there, but Chloe tried to get the watch.

"You don't get to go back if you disrespect her."

"What?! What did she do that you're so freakishly-!" Red cut Chloe off, smirking proudly as she answered.

"She swore her full devotion to me, so, technically, she's mine, which means she'll do anything I say." Chloe took a step back, fearing she'll get stabbed by the gloating princess.

"I really don't care about how low that poor girl stepped, but honestly, isn't that a bit like an exhibitionist?" Red's hair seemed to flair up in anger, baring her teeth as she launched at the girl, pulling at her hair.

"Do not call my girl a whore! You fucking bitch!" Chloe was more shocked by her language than anything else.

"Let! Go! Of! Me!" She tried getting her off, eventually resorting to kicking her off.

She stood with her hands on her knees trying to get her breath back, Red standing perfectly straight and gesturing for her to get up and move along.

"C'mon, let's go inside."

-

"Mom!" Chloe nearly cried out as they saw the heels break into Charming's face, Red rolled her eyes, instead focusing on Mary, who was still kneeling in front of her mother.

There was a small puddle of blood where she previously stood, and there were glimpses of blood where she had now rested her knee.

She clenched her fist, but quickly snapped the looking glass closed when Bridget turned around.

"I don't have one like that... but if it's a banned book, it's in Merlin's office, but that's enchanted...." She pouted, a bit sad she couldn't get what the girls wanted for them.

"I have a date with Athene, so I really have to start getting ready, I hope you'll find it though!" Red nodded slowly, pulling Chloe along as she exited the room.

They bumped into Athene along the way, who was going up to Bridget's room.

"Athene." The girl hummed and looked up from Fred, her mouse familiar, to Red.

"We kept Bridget up a bit, she just started getting ready." Athene let out a small Oh, then smiled.

"That's perfectly fine, I'll go back to Olivia then, she'll probably like having that saddle off a bit longer." Red raised an eyebrow, abandoning Chloe's arm and stopping Athene from leaving.

"Olivia?"

"Oh, she's one of my familiars, she's a water dragon, and such a sweetheart, I was planning on introducing her to Bridget and going to the dragon stalls with her, because she's my nicest dragon, the other can get a bit... snappy, yeah, that's the word." She tilted her head when Red didn't answer, "would you like to meet her? She's beautiful, her scales are a bit darker than Chloe's hair."

Red smirked, quickly nodding before grabbing Chloe's arm again and once again dragging her along after Athene.

The young witch wasn't kidding when she said the dragon was sweet, because she quite literally had no idea what danger even was.

"I told you, she's way too kind, it takes more effort to keep her safe from people than to keep people safe from her." Chloe had finally snapped out of her stupor and was staring in amazement at how the dragon seemed to trap Red with her tail, keeping her there until she could grab her with her front legs-?-.

Chloe snorted out a giggle, Red grumbling about getting saliva on her jacket was way too funny.

"Hey! Poet! Bridget's ready for you!" Ella yelled out of a window somewhere, and Athene nearly dashed away.

"She's sweet... do you think they'll last longer than this?" Chloe turned to Red to ask, who had been set down.

"Mh. They'll last yeah, but she'll die when their daughter is like 10." The shock on the charming princess' face was way too much to comprehend.

"Yeah, my mom really lost it after that."

-

"Red! Princess!" Mary rushed up to her when she finally got back to the present, not wearing her usual dark green, but instead a sage green and off white colour combo.

"Hey... what's with the-?" She trialed off when her mom stood up, turning around, with a whole other dress, and starting to make... bubble hearts?

"Where were you, you are so late Rose." Chloe snorted at the nickname.

"Well i'm here now."

[multiwreckedmess]

Kinktober Day 1

Prompt: Costume Pairing: San x fem!reader WC: 1,900 Summary: When you and your boyfriend have a minor disagreement on what to do for your halloween costumes, you hatch a plan to have him see your side.

This is a work of fiction, it does not represent San or any Ateez member. On top of this it is an 18+ work. For my comfort and boundaries please if you are under age do not interact with this. 

TW/CW under the cut

TW/CW: Sort of petplay, reader called “kitty”, “kitten” as well as “babe” and “sweetie”, oral (m. receiving), unprotected intercourse, finishing inside, tail plug mentioned. I think that’s about it.

Staring into the monochrome abyss of San’s closet you huff. “Babe? What are we wearing for Hongjoong’s Halloween party?”  He doesn’t turn from his game, frantic clicks of the mouse filing the space where his reply should be.  “Babe?” You ask again, foolishly hopeful.  More clicking, punctuated by a flood of curses under his breath.  You purse your lips and turn to him, the silhouette of his chair blocking him. “San?”  His fist slams into the table, “SHIT! Sorry. Dead. I got 1 minute. What? Sorry.”  “Costume. Halloween party?”  “I was thinking we’d buy a couples-”  “BUY?” Your eyes bug incredulously. The thought opens wide a can of childhood trauma. Years of your parents insisting that you create your costumes with clothes either from the second hand store or existing closet pieces with minimal single use articles. While others got to dress as Jesse from Toy Story or Cinderella, you had to figure out your best approximation of what a witch would look like in modern dress.  San’s brows furrow in confusion. “What? Yes? How else do you get a costume?”  “Where is your spirit of creation?! I might as well dress up like a cat if you’re just going to buy some shitty costume.”  San rolls his eyes, exasperated. “You can’t make a cat into a couples costume.”  “You go ahead and buy the costumes. I’ll put together mine and show you how much better it is.”

 It’s manipulative, you know it is, as you examine yourself in the mirror. You’d probably never wear this ensemble out, but it was about the message. Fuzzy ears clipped to the top of your head matched beautifully with the tail plug tickling the back of your thighs from under your skirt. It was almost unfair, almost.

 Leaning against the doorframe you watch him click away, unaware of the treat sitting mere meters away from him. You knock and wait patiently with a small smirk tugging at your lips.  “He-holy shit,” San turns and stops in his tracks, eyes racking over your body. Whatever he was doing or going to do long forgotten he launches himself from the computer chair. He whole body throbs for a second as his arms tighten around you and lift, moving you with ease. For a second he considers tossing you fully onto the mattress but decides better, it would be a waste instead placing you in the center of the bedroom. “Such a pretty kitty,” San purrs, pushing your hair behind your ear. Nails scratching lightly at your scalp, his eyes shine as as shiver runs down your body.  “So you like it?” You tug slightly at the half gloves covering your wrist, smoothing them taut to you. Small rubber paw prints adorn the palms, soft and squishy and pink. Your stockings have them too, just at the ball of the foot, with matching pretty pink bows at the tops of the thighs. You twirl, tripping lightly as the rubber paws grip the ground more than you’re prepared for. San’s arms wrap around you again and secure you as his chest blocking your tumble.  “Maybe a little dangerous to wear out,” he muses, hand trailing your spine.  “We’ll have to take care of that, won’t we kitty?” His mind feels hazy as the blood flow redirects southwards. He shouldn’t be as attracted to this outfit as he is. You just look so cute, so so SO cute it makes his head swim.

 It’s impossible to hide the pulse of interest in his sweatpants, comfy and breathable grey cotton leaving nothing to the imagination. “Take care of what?” You bat your eyelashes dumbly, prolonging the game. Your hands skim down to the waistband of his pants, feeling the flex of his lower abs as his breath catches. His own hand pushes up the back of your skirt, tugging lightly at the tail, stirring the plug within you just enough to make you whine.  “Don’t worry kitty, just follow me,” he smiles, palm cupping your ass. “get on your knees for me, won’t you?”  You’ve never dropped to your knees faster, looking up at his toned body with wide eyes. He barely moves his head to look down at you, only his eyes following. Your mouth waters, staring at the tented outline pressing insistently to the fabric.  “Be a good kitty and open your mouth for me,” his thumb strokes your cheek, your jaw softening and falling open in his hand. One handed, he pushes the top of his pants down, thick cock springing from the confines. Heavy and musky he taps the head on your outstretched  tongue, sucking in air through his teeth. It the eager twinkle in your eye as you patiently wait for his next instruction that stokes the fire in his gut. “That’s it, now just the tip sweetie, just a little lick for me,” he coaxes.

 Tongue flicking gently against the underside you listen for his breathy moan, mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. You barrage him with sweet kitten licks all over the head of his dick. As much as he can control his body he couldn’t control his expression, fighting to keep his eyes open his eyelids flutter. “Li’e tha’?” You ask, words slurred with your tongue lolling out.  “Just like that,” he sighs, “just keep your mouth open babe, let me do the work.” Letting the weight of his member rest heavily on your tongue you hold your head still, eyes fixed upwards, gazing at his face. Gathering your hair into a loose fist at the base of your scalp, his hips press forward into your inviting heat. It’s barely halfway down before he feels the resistant tight ring of your throat against him. Hazily he shallowly thrusts against it, the sound of your soft gags awakening something primal in him. Tears welling in your eyes you work hard to breath through your nose as he loses himself briefly to the rhythm. “Doin’ so well-,” he gasps, “a lil’ more. Such a good obedient kitty. A lil’ more for me.”

 Your core throbs impatiently, gut twisting and tightening. His choked back moans and lack of oxygen have you lightheaded, your own hand wandering between your thighs to provide some relief to your unattended sex. Subtle twitches of his thighs and cock tell you he’s close, an unrepressed moan burbling up from your lungs has him retreating quickly, strands of spit and salty precum bridging the gap in your bodies.  “Don’ wan’ cum?” You gulp and gasp, wiping your lips on the back of the arm warmers.  San shakes his head, eyes unfocused and breathing heavily.  You don’t have time to question why before he is pulling you up by your forearms and tossing you face down into the unmade sheets of the bed like you were little more than a misplaced pillow. He’s on you nearly as fast, hand running up the back of your thighs to your slit.  “Practically dripping,” he growls and giggles all at once, giddy. You push back on his hand with a moan.  “All for you,” your voice is horse and ragged.  “Good kitty.”

 The blunt pressure of his cock breaching your entrance forces a harsh exhale from you. Your skirt is bunched and balled into his fists at your waist, little more than makeshift handles for him to use as he pushes his way into your tight heat. The slickness of your arousal eases the push as his hips roll against you, deeper and deeper with each stroke until he’s fully seated in your cunt. Elated, you wiggle back at him, shaking the tail still snuggly held in by the plug.  San marvels at how your walls stretch and hug to accommodate his thickness. The audio visual experience of your small moans and tight hole eagerly sucking him back dulls his wits. For a moment he drops the skirt to palm your ass, spreading you so he can better watch himself disappear as he shallowly fucks into you, absentmindedly stroking the fur of the tail draped down your back. It’s just enough to jostle the plug, tight ring of muscle flexing to hold it in.  Your chest tightens and vision blurs, elbows faltering and falling cheek first into the mattress. “It feels good,” you try to say, only bubbles of spit and moans managing to make their way out of your mouth.  “You’re so fucked,” San laughs as his hips snap into you faster. “You’re so hot.”  “Fuuuuck,” you groan in agreement. “I’m fuuuuucked.” The words bounce with the shaking of your body, uncontrolled and automatic. San fists your strip of a skirt, using it as leverage to fuck into you harder and faster. You can hardly breathe as your orgasm rolls over you, one after another, walls clenching and spasming around his cock. Fingers claw at the bed, twitching as you pant and groan and swear underneath him.  He drops his hold on your skirt, unceremoniously allowing you to crumple to the bed as he pulls from you.  “Nooo,” you whine pitifully at the loss of sensation. Exhaustion plagues your muscles but your gut needs more, craves more. You ragdoll as he pushes you to your back, clambering between your thighs again. It’s rougher than he’s every been with you. You stomach flutters and flips and he practically folds you in half, pressing your knees up to your armpits and sliding back into you.  “Don’t worry kitty, you’ll get your treat,” he murmurs in your ear, breath tickling your jaw.  This angle is a different kind of intense, his body weight heavy on your lungs, restricting your airflow just enough to have you buzzing. His biceps flex as he holds himself and your legs up as best he can, your stockinged feet waving loosely in the air with each thrust. You hold onto him, clinging to his back with all your might. Your ears ring and rush as you lose yourself in his motions.  “Cum, please, cum,” you chant into his shoulder. “Fuck your cum into your cute kitten.” Spit and sweat commingling on your lips. You curl up, forehead pressed to the junction as you climax, vision darkening and eyelids fluttering.  You’d scream but your lungs are empty and diaphragm clenched. Everything burns from the inside out. Gasping, you bite down on his trapezius, his strangled groan of pleasure and surprise breaking through your haze as his hips stutter and slam as deep as he can go into you. The warmth of his release coats your walls as they work him.

 San whimpers and then giggles quietly.  “Sorrysorrysorrysorry,” you spew in a whispered prayer.  “Don’t apologize to me,” he kisses your cheek. “Intense right?”  You don’t answer, eyes closed in bliss. All is quiet except for your breaths and the occasional light smack of lips to skin as you pepper eachother with pecks. You let him lower your legs to the bed, release slightly seeping out around his cock as he moves you. “You like the costume?” You trade an obvious question with a second obvious question.  “Skirts ruined, sorry,” he giggles again. “Pussy ruined.””

 You glare at him. He shifts slightly, balancing himself on one arm as he grabs an errant ear from between the pillows. “See? Pussy ruined. Besides, not a couples costume so-” it was such a San answer, letting you win the battle but not the war.

I’m really not promising much if anything but I wanna write more frequently sooo here you go. As usual, please let me know if I am missing tags or if you’d like me to add any TW/CW that are sensitive for you to any upcoming fics!

Also i noticed the formatting is a little fucked on mobile i’m so sorry i think it’s that i copy paste in from another doc but like...it’s hard to tell. It’s the first paragraph. Sorry!!

[stuff-i-found-while-crying]

A stage of fire and dreams (4)

inspired by @gwandas and they post: modern Neris AU where Eris is a trust fund asshole at Harvard Law, Nesta is a professional ballerina with the Boston Ballet

Finally managed to write another part! Its the Dinner!

Main Pairing: Nesta x Eris

other character: Mama and papa archeron, Elain, Feyre, an elevator boy, a waiter, and a surprise mention.

first part - Giselle I second part - red shoes I part three - Cinderella

Dinner for two

Nesta wore bright red lipstick. Her father had looked concerned. Even more so when he saw the dress she picked.

"I can pick you up, if it gets too late", he said softly from his spot in front of the TV. 

Her mother scoffed. A clear message. The later she stayed out, the better.

So Nesta put on her high boots, brushed over the skirt of her black dress and grabbed her purse.

It was just dinner. A business meeting almost.

Thats what she told herself.

At least for one night she could eat what she wanted and that was what she would do.

"You look pretty", Elain shouted from the kitchen.

Feyre appered behind her, jaw on the floor. "Are you going to dinner, or are you planning on being the dinner?"

"Fuck yourself", Nesta smiled at her. "Oh wait, thats what Rhysand is for."

Feyre almost attacked her, but Nesta just turned and left.

The car that waited for her outside was flashy. Black, clean and sharp.

Quiet like her own dress.

Before she could loose her nerves at the sight of an obvious expansive car in her poor little neighboorhood, Eris appeared.

He wore a green dinner jacket and a black button-down. Golden cuffs, golden rings and even golden buttons. His red curls crowned his head in flames. Nesta felt a spark in her chest.

"Good Evening", he said. His eyes wandered over her but no muscle in his face betrayed him. Instead he smiled at her. "You are as lovely as I remember."

Nesta snorrted. Last time they saw each other her feet had been bloody and her face had been covered in sweat.

"Thank you", she said. "Although I dont know if that is a compliment."

His grin deepend and dimples appeared. "Everything I say is a compliment, my dear."

"Then concider me sufficiantly complimented."

It was so easy.

The sparkle in his eyes, the elegance with which he opened the car door for her, his warm hand on her back.

Nesta was forgetting herself. He made her soft. And she needed to focus.

While he closed her door and rounded the car she took a deep breath.

This was just dinner.

He was a good looking man and she was allowed to enjoy herself.

Except that the voice of her mother was still in her head.

He could give you the next big role, if you play your cards right.

Then they sat in the car. And Eris looked at her.

"Before I forget again", he grapped something from the backseat, leaning close to her in the process.

Nesta smelled his collogne. Forest, was the first thing she thought of. Wildness.

His breath hit her ear for one delicious second.

Then he pulled back and layed a bouquet of flowers in her lap.

"Shall I compare thee to a flower next?", he joked.

"Please do", she said. But her fingers closed around the bouquet.

It was a lovely arrangement of dark reds and whites.

Lust and Innocence.

Elain loved flowers and had one summer annoyed them all with flower talk. Until her mother hat told her to find something more profitiable than silly plants.

But Nesta had never thought Elain silly.

Now, looking at the flowers in her lap she wondered if Eris also knew the meaning.

Her eyes found his.

He winked at her and started the car.

"Tell me your favorite flower", he demanded.

"Tulips", she said. 

"Liar."

"How would you know?"

"You are not the spring type."

She fixaded him. "Roses."

For a second his eyes found hers, than he turned his gaze back to the street. "Classy. But why do I feel like you are still hiding?"

"What is your favourite?"

"Roses."

She scoffed.

"See? Not believable."

She fought against the smile. But his lazy grin was intoxicating.

"Lillies", she said quietly. 

His face hartened for a bit but then he nodded. "Flower for the dead. Fitting for Giselle."

His hand reached for the radio. Classical Music started to play. Dramatic and a bit sad.

"Choose a channel."

Nesta pursed her lips. "I quiet enjoy this."

He chuckled. "As you wish. Keep your secrets for now."

They stopped infront of a hotel.

And there again was the voice of her mother. Anything he wants.

Her grip around the flowers tident.

"Relax", he said. "We are here for the restaurant on the top floor."

She nodded, but still avoided his gaze. A rush of heat made her look anywhere but him. In her heart she cursed her mother that she ruined this date before it even began.

But she would not give her that satisfaction.

Nesta would enjoy the date. Because his eyes burned with fire and the hand he offered her while she got out of the car was strong and warm.

He guided her through the lobby. Ignored the golden doors to the public retaurant, walked across the white marble and red carpet until they reached the elevators. More gilded doors. This Hotel even had an elevator boy, who greeted them politely and pressed the top button.

Nesta put on her best stage face. Not one glanze showed how much her feet hurt, or how she longed to check herself in the mirror to see if her hair was still in place. But when she shivered slightly, Eris immediatly noticed.

Without a word he dropped his jacket over her shoulders.

"Good thing black goes well with anything", she said.

His eyes wondered down her body again. And Again Nesta felt a spark.

"I must say, green suits you", he said. "Maybe I should have a jacket tailored for you. This is your style."

For a split second she thought of another jacket, made out of leather.

"Thank you, but I have many jackets of my own."

The elevator stopped. As the doors glided open Nesta thought she saw a tiny frown on Eris face. But when she looked again he was smiling at her.

Again he walked out of the elevator and into the restaurant as if he owned the place. He probably did. Nesta had looked up his family and was shooked to find that the Vanserra Empire was next to Velaris Enterprise, the biggest company in the state, if not the country. The only difference was that the Vanserra family was far more quiet in their business and no one knew how gib they company truly was.

The restaurant was fancy. Nesta looked for a better word but she was too overwhelmed. So much kristall and velvet and flowers.

Red mostly, with gilded tables and chairs. Royal colours for a rich family.

A Waiter came and seated them next to a Balcony with view of the entire city. They ordered quiekly, Nesta wandering how much the food would cost, since the prices weren`t even printed on the menu. But Eris was only smiling at her and asking which wine she prefered.

She was once again reminded in their differences.

"All this just for a dinner with a Ballerina?", she asked.

"Oh Ms. Archeron", his tone was playful. "Dinner is the most important meal of the day. And you are the most important dancer in my mothers favorite theater."

"Only for one play", she said.

It slipt out. But she could feel her mother breathing down her neck.

His gaze shifted. Instead of the playful glim a calculating starre took over.

"I wish I could stay on. Even as part of the Chorus", she said, her heart beating erratic. "But once you danced the Main part they would never hire you again as something else."

Without a word he pulled out his phone. Nesta straightened her back. His jacket was still over her shoulders, shielding her against the cold. Their eyes met.

He dialed a number. "Mr. Heartfelt! I am calling you in a very urgent matter. My mother has expressed again and again how much she enjoyed Nesta Archerons performance. It would be a pitty to loose such a talent, don't you think?"

Nesta was ashamed. But she gripped the hem of her skirt and said nothing. At least her mother would be happy.

Eris eyes bore into her. "And double her pay."

With that he hung up.

They sat in silence again.

"Your mother wanted you to use me, did she not?"

"Don't pretend like you don't want to use me, too!"

"Oh Dove", he leaned over the table and the spark returned to his eyes. "The only thing I want from you is to loosen up and enjoy the date. I am trying to impress you here. And you haven't even commented on the view."

"It is lovely."

"Thank you", he grinned like he had build the city just for her to look apon. "Now compliment my fashion style next."

She scuffed. But grinned too. And there was another spark in her chest. This time it caught on and she felt herself warming up.

"Green is a lovely colour", she said gently. "I have green curtains."

"No", he dramatically gasped. "It is fate then!"

And she just had to laugh.

The waiter returned with their plates. Nesta stopped laughing. There was less food on her plate then at home. Just a tiny amount of pasta.

"What is wrong?", Eris looked honestly concerned. "Did they got your order wrong?"

"No, no", she said. "It's wonderful."

At least the arrangement was. Nesta felt her stomach drop. It was screaming at her to run away and find the next Fast Food store. Anything to fill the emptyness in her.

"I should have thought of that", he said quietly.

Confused she raised her head.

"I bet dancers need more nutritions then this."

He motioned for the waiter.

"I want triple the amount…" he stopped when he saw her eyes. "make that five times the amount of pasta on a plate. And add a steak. And a salate. Anything else you wish for?"

Nesta almost cried. Eris Vanserra had a way of knowing what she needed before she was to emberrassed to ask for it.

His phone rang.

His eyes widened.

His face hardened.

"Excuse me", he said to Nesta. Then he took the call and left her alone on the table.

Nesta tried to enjoy the views.

She tried to enjoy the food on her first plate.

She even let her fingers wander over the material of his jacket. 

Nothing ignited a spark like his smile did.

When the waiter returned again, he held a container with food.

"Mr. Vanserra had to leave due to a family emergency", he explained. "But he insisted you take the food and there is a Taxi waiting for you downstairs. I will escourt you."

Her bubble burst. Of course it had been too good to be true. He had treated her like a queen for not even two hours, but Nesta had believed it.

And that was on her.

"Don't bother", she said and got up. Without a glance back she left the restaurant and took the elevator down. Out of her purse she fished her phone.

Who should she call?

Her father had offered. But then her mother would probably intervene.

Elain was too scared to drive at night.

Feyre was never an option.

That left only one.

Down in the lobby she realised that she was still wearing Eris jacket. Out of spite she decided to keep it. With one hand she brushed over the soft fabric while she dialed Cassians number.

[nyoomfruits]

fics that are essential landoscar lore to you 3 2 1 go

[shoves the enitre contents of the ao3 landoscar tag at you] there you go :)

IN ALL SERIOUSNESS. this is so hard why would you ask this of me aaahhhh but OKAY.

(below a read more because uuuuh. this accidentally got really long)

how much can you fit (under your skin) by cloudcollector | E | 4,5k

Oscar has biteable thighs. Lando has teeth.

this one is self explanatory and what prompted you to send me this ask i think. anyway i've said this before but even if you dont like thighs you will come out of this a thigh lover. also 10/10 dynamic like everything is so!!! about this fic. introduced reading oscar to the world which i think should be a staple in all landoscar fics actually

Negative splits by leafmealone | T | 10k

So officially, Oscar Piastri, pretty good steepler and pretty bad pacer, was now a professional runner. They wanted him to steeple, mostly, though he’d be doing cross country in the fall, and Lando had pinky promised him, mid-distance guy to mid-distance guy, that if he wanted to get into the 3k flat indoor then he would get him in. Oscar didn’t really want to ask how he planned on doing that. Felt safer not to ask.

very important landoscar lore to me personally which if you've been following me a while you probably know why. anyway 10/10 and a must read makes me feel very insane every time. also leaf did put the sports boys in another sport as well which is also mandatory reading in my personal opinion.

only found by eisenberg | T | 7k

“Hey, well. No strings attached, right?” Oscar says, strategically. Lando smiles and says, “hell yeah. And now that that’s established, what’s your stance on aliens? Also, do you still want your cake?” -- cinderella soulmates au where whatever you lose, your soulmate finds. except: oscar has a soulmate and lando is a No-Match, a person who doesn't have a soulmate.

what is a mandatory reading list without a soulmate au truly. AND LET ME TELL YOU. 10/10. dynamic is of the charts fantastic, beautifully captures the differences between lando and oscar but why they work anyway and gaaahhh. sometimes i just stare at the ceiling for three hours and think about this fic no biggie

what would you do (if I went to touch you now)? by laceyamethyst | E | 30k

“Okay, so they both like each other. We need to get them together.” “How? Lando’s too freaked out to think straight and Oscar is the human embodiment of the standing man emoji.” Charles purses his lips for a moment before he snatches his boyfriend’s phone up from the other side of the table. “What are you doing?” “Initiating Mission Landoscar.” “Did you just make that up?” Charles waves at him dismissively as he begins texting, and Max lays his head down on the coffee table and prays for strength. *** In which Max tries to prove to an oblivious Charles how glaringly obvious it is that Lando is head over heels in love with Oscar. When Charles finally gets with the program, Lestappen go on A Mission™ to get the two idiots to admit their feelings for each-other, but it’s easier said than done.

first of all this fic is perfect, show stopping, laugh out loud funny. SECOND OF ALL this fic is the best way to bully your lestappen friends into shipping landoscar because it actually has a super sweet established relationship lestappen side plot. also this whole fic is from max's pov which means you get a beautiful outsider pov look at the complete chaos that is lando and oscar pining for each other. delightfull really.

Your Plans (And Those Slow Hands) by xxcelientje | E | 4k

He could probably fit both of Oscar’s hands in one of his own, he could for sure use one hand to hold both of Oscar’s wrist and an idea entered his mind. He smiled at Oscar. ‘You like my hands?’ Oscar’s cheeks reddened even more as he nodded, his eyes still on their joined fingers. ‘They fascinate me,’ he admitted, biting his lip. OR: Lando and Oscar have some fun (and share some feelings) after the Belgium GP

just like the thigh fic will give you a thing for oscar's thighs this will give you a thing for lando's hands. gaahhh their dynamic in this is just so!!!!!!!!! the way theyre so HORNY for each other 10/10

carried away by venerat | E | 22k

“Oscar,” Lando said. “Don’t hate me, alright, but I've—”

did you really think i was going to do a mandatory reading list without a venerat fic???? lmao. anyway all of venerat's stuff is mandatory but this one is my personal fave i think. TOP TIER dynamic truly, and its FAKE DATING. what more can a person want really

change the weather by sharls | E | 5k

Lando knows what a thong is, of course he does—but the team needs content, the team needs clicks, and he just so happens to be well-versed in the art of going viral.

is a mandatory landoscar reading list really complete without a thong fic??? i think not. and this is so!!!!!!!!! everything about this just Makes Sense. if you told me this had actually happened i would be like. yeah. that checks out. very incredibly in character and just !!!!!!! very hot and funny and perfect.

all right theres a lot more but??? i promised myself i would rec only 5 fics and this is already 7, so... i'll stop here. for now