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impale-me-radio-daddy · 9 months ago

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The Lookalike (Part 8)

☒ Summary: The first thing you remembered after your death was an argument. “No, this isn’t one of my fucking sluts.” The man behind you exhaled, frustrated. “This is a present for you. Something to help you work through your Alastor fixation.” You awaken in Hell as the near-spitting image of a certain infamous radio host. Unfortunately for you, you immediately fall into the clutches of his nemesis, then into the arms of the Radio Demon himself.

☒ Warnings: hermaphrodite!reader, deer!reader, crying!reader, they/them pronouns used, Alastor X reader, explicit content, tentacle sex, bottom!Alastor, reference to drugs, reader is in Hell for a reason, canon typical scenarios.

☒ Series Links: Part I Part2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 6 BONUS SCENE Part 7 Part 9 Epilogue

Ever since Niffty had mistaken an expensive cock ring for an insect and attempted to kill it, the duty of cleaning Angel Dust’s room had been solely yours. You traipsed down to his wing of the hotel, pushing the cleaning and laundry hamper in front of you, and after a cursory listen and knock on the door, you went in.

You’d worked a few different jobs in your mortal life, and more than a few of them had been janitorial. You knew the drill; stripping and changing out the bedding, emptying the bins and cleaning any surface that looked soiled. Angel’s pet pig Fat Nuggets followed you from point to point, and you stopped sporadically to bend down and scratch the critter behind the ears.

When Angel Dust returned, you were scrubbing the floor of the shower, thinking of a time you’d butchered a kill in a similar space; the tray not wide enough to properly lay out the body horizontally. People such as yourself were, out of necessity, not squeamish. It had been hard to get the blood out of the grouting, and whatever Angel had left in the shower was giving you similar grief.

“Hey, Stunt Double! Ya in there?” called Angel as he walked in, dumping his bag on the bed.

You backed out of the bathroom, cleaning tools still in hand, and smiled at him. “Hello, Angel.”

“So it is you cleaning this place.” Angel tilted his head as Fat Nuggets emerged from the bathroom behind you to greet him, and he picked up the pig in his arms. “I was wonderin’ who was puttin’ all my butt plugs in size order.”

“I could do them by color, if you prefer,” you offered, pulling another bottle of cleaning fluid from the trolley, and Angel laughed.

“Neah, size is fine.” He flopped back onto his bed, arms splayed. “Man, I am beat.”

“Should I come back later?” you asked, but Angel just shook his head.

“Just do what you gotta,” he said. “It’s what they pay ya for.”

You gave a noise of surprise. “You have money in Hell?”

Angel lifted his head. “You’ve been here how long and don’t know that?”

You shrugged, heading back into the bathroom with more bleach. “People usually just give me things.”

“What happens when no-one wants to give you what you want?”

You took a couple steps backward into Angel’s room again. “Give me your phone for half an hour.”

“What?” He narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

“Because,” you said, reaching into your pocket. “If you do, I’ll give you this baggie of mysterious white power I found in your room last week before Charlie searched it.” You dangled the drugs in front of Angel with a flourish. You had found them inside the cistern whilst fixing the toilet.

Angel leaned forwards, still squinting. “Those were my drugs.”

“They were,” you said, tilting your head. “And they could be again, for the low, low price of let me search the internet for half an hour.”

“Jeez, fine-” Angel dug in his corset for his phone and flung it at you. “There. Now, gimme.”

You caught the phone with a grin, tossing the drugs into Angel’s lap. “Pleasure doing business,” you said, taking a seat on the corner of Angel’s bed as you unlocked his phone. Alastor had specified you should work, but not how hard.

Angel looked between you, Fat Nuggets, and the drugs, quickly coming to the decision that you were the most interesting of the three. Pivoting with one leg, he rotated so that his head was level with your hip, and looked up at you. “Whatcha searchin’?”

“Overlords,” you said, and when Angel frowned, you added. “Alastor is sending me to some sort of get together and I don’t know what any of them look like.”

“Well, why didn’t ya say so?” Angel reached out to take his phone back, and you handed it over. “I have most of ‘em on sinstagram, ‘cept for Smiles of course. Here.”

You looked over Angel’s head as he swiped through a photo reel, mostly candid shots of the overlords at parties, pointing out both the overlords themselves and any major lackeys. It was information with much greater worth than a few grams of toilet cocaine, and Angel was more than happy to talk as you pressed him on details.

“There’s this rumor that Carmilla and Zestial are an item but I don’t buy it. Friends, sure, but old Zee’s a queen if I ever saw one, and Carmine’s not the type ta keep that kinda thing a secret.”

Angel scrolled to the next picture. “And of course I don’t need ta tell you about the television guy,” he said. “Hey, you want some of this coke?”

You laughed, a small shake of your head. “Thanks though. I’ve got everything I want now.”

“You’ve got everything you want?” Angel rolled over, his expression suddenly sultry as he propped his chin up on his hands. “You sure about that, Stunt Double?”

You nodded. “Oh, you wouldn’t believe.”

Angel deflated. “Smiles must be some lay, huh.”

You grinned. “I’m not answering that.”

In truth, that morning, Alastor had given you what you really wanted. A target.

The sinner that Alastor had named was one of the new overlords who had risen in the power vacuum following the previous extermination, having previously been a minor gang boss in Zeezi’s territory. He was a horse demon, and at least if Alastor was being truthful, guilty of just about every cruelty one could imagine. Including, Alastor had stressed with particular emphasis, disrespect.

His name was Kennedy, also known as the Smoker Demon, and aside from a few grainy sinstagram snaps Angel had shown you, you had little other information to go on. But when you took Alastor’s place at the next overlord’s meeting, you would see him with your own two eyes.

Alastor had agreed that you should have a weapon to hand when you appeared in his place, and on the day of the overlord meeting he presented you with an elegant red-tipped black cane.

“It’s no microphone,” he said, a little cryptically- you had never seen him use a microphone save for the ancient one attached to the desk in his radio tower. “But I had it made with a little surprise inside.”

You twirled the cane, testing its balance in your hand, and pulling the handle you found it held a concealed blade.

A short blade; not a duelist’s sword but a knife, long enough to slit a throat or to puncture a heart through the ribcage. You beamed at Alastor, the excitement bubbling within you at the prospect of violence mirrored by your delight that he had anticipated your preferences so exactly.

“It’s perfect,” you told him, twirling it just to admire the balance again.

“Of course,” he demurred, the creases at the corners of his eyes telling you that he was soaking in your praise. “I can hardly expect you to perform with second rate equipment.”

He hovered about you like a mother hen as you put on his ragged tailcoat, brushing it flat across your shoulders with the palms of his hands, and tutting as he adjusted your bow tie. You half expected him to take out a pocket square and start cleaning your mouth as he fussed over you, adjusting a fold here, a button there. Finally, when you were attired to his liking, Alastor pushed his index fingers into the corners of your mouth and pulled up, not painfully, but enough to make you bare your teeth.

“You mustn’t forget your smile, now,” he said.

It wasn’t hard at all to grin at him, not with the euphoria that currently welled within you. It was a maniac’s grin you gave him, wide and wicked and infectious.

Vox had been wrong about how much the other two Vees would object to his actions. Velvette had been legitimately furious that he had overstepped his usual bounds into social media campaigns, had called him a bloody idiotic twat, and had set the notifications from all of the accounts she usually managed to automatically forward to him. The pings were constant and it gave him a godawful headache. Valentino, by contrast, had broken the television set in their shared quarters, then stalked off to do drugs somewhere.

This was how Vox drew the shit lot of being the one of the three of them to attend the overlord’s meeting. His abilities allowed him to traverse the city quickly through the powerlines, but given the delicate political situation of any meeting of powerful individuals, such flashy displays were frowned upon. Anything that made people jumpy was frowned upon.

As such, Vox sat in the back of his limo as it drove to the meeting place, glaring at the traffic and wincing every time a notification from Velvette’s shit came in. Fuck his fucking life. Apart from, perhaps, the small portion where he got to watch Alastor fuck his doppelganger, that bit of his life could stay.

Would Alastor be at the meeting? Probably not, Vox decided. He hadn’t attended one since his altercation with Adam last extermination.

There was a spring in your step as you walked the streets in your red finery, feeling the breeze in your hair, your cane tucked neatly under one arm. The winds of Hell carried with them the scents of polyurethane and sulfur, and every sinner you passed cowered from your gaze as you grinned. It was barely even an affectation, if you were being honest with yourself. You were loose on the streets with one weapon in your pocket and another under your arm, about to meet a man that you would hunt. Anyone would grin, given the circumstances.

The sensation of being watched prickled familiar on your neck, and you stopped, hand on the handle of your cane, ready to draw the hidden blade as you turned.

A demon taller than yourself stood before you, with black, chitinous skin and a large, plumed hat. “Alastor, hail and well met.”

“Zestial!” you said with a smile, immediately grateful for Angel Dust’s overlord rundown. “Good day to you too.”

He fell into step beside you, taller than you by some margin. You didn’t feel malice emanating from him, but that was hardly a guarantee of anything. Perhaps your instincts were off. But you were heading to the same locale, so giving him the slip was hardly an option. “How have you been?” you asked, keen to push the conversation in Zestial’s direction. Alastor hadn’t told you anything about his relationship with the overlord, so the less you said, the better.

“Alas, my troubles would seem to pale in comparison to thine,” said Zestial, and you cursed internally.

“My troubles?” You raised an eyebrow. “And what are my troubles?” You had a warm place to sleep and a boyfriend who hand-fed you breakfast- practically the high life.

“Rumor has it thou suffered a mortal wound,” said Zestial, his narrow eyes looking you up and down. “ And thy former protégé doth set his sights on the folly thou suffered for.”

It took you a second to realize he was talking about Vox and the hotel. The documentary crew and constant stream of influencers through the hotel was Vox’s doing. And the timing was too co-incidental for it to not be related to the hidden cameras in Alastor’s room. Alastor already suspected Lucifer as the culprit for that, though he had no proof save that Lucifer was one of the few people powerful enough to dare to fuck with him.

“My protégé,” you repeated, lending a little darkness to your tone. “Tell me, who in the hotel did he deal with?”

Zestial smiled, eerily. “That information hath value,” he said. “What dost thou propose in exchange?”

You paused to think, twirling your cane idly around your palm and wrist as the two of you walked. Offering future consideration was a shitty thing to do, doomed to piss off either Zestial or Alastor, depending on who got saddled with the debt. You could sell the overlord the information that you were a fake, assuming that he hadn’t already figured it out, but that would undermine your own usefulness as a double for Alastor. “It seems to me,” you said, a smile at Zestial. “That the window of usefulness of that information is rather short.”

“The identity of a traitor in thy camp-” said Zestial.

“Ah, but it is a rather small camp, is it not?” you asked, grateful for the time you’d spent giving museum tours with a transatlantic accent as you stuck as hard as you could to Alastor’s mannerisms rather than lapse into iambic pentameter. “Are you sure you’d rather keep hold of it in the hopes of a high price when I need only wait for the blasted picture box to gloat about their identity?”

Zestial hummed, but didn’t argue the point further.

“I’ll tell you what. How about an exchange in kind? I’ll tell you the recent gossip I know, and you can stop me if I tell you something you think meets your price.”

“An entertaining prospect,” said Zestial. “Pray continue.”

The conversation with Angel Dust was fresh in your mind, so you recounted what you judged to be of interest, skipping over both Rosie, who Alastor had indicated was his friend, and Vox, whose very mention made Alastor’s smile seem forced, as well as the figures closest to Zestial himself. You named the underbosses vying to work under Zeezi, talked about the sinner who had been stalking Valentino, along with a few other tidbits, and Zestial was a good audience, chuckling and curious in turn.

“Thou art an enigma as ever, Alastor,” he said, as you reached the venue for the meeting, and imposing red-brick building.

You grinned at him. “I suppose that means my little stories don’t pass muster?”

“Quite the contrary,” said Zestial, a slight inclination of his head. “I consider my price paid in full. The king of Hell himself paid a visit to overlord Vox in his domain.”

Vox fought hard not to glitch when Alastor walked into the meeting room. The infuriating grin on his face, the buzz of an electric field around him, the cane twirling idly around his wrist, ears up and alert. He might not have noticed the differences if he hadn’t seen the two of you together barely a week before, if Alastor hadn’t caught him out by being disguised as you. The differences were subtle, but they were there, in the shape of your antlers and the markings on your ears.

No. Not Alastor. You. Fuck.

What were you doing here? This was a room full of overlords; people who would eat an innocent, sweet creature like you right up without a second thought. Had Alastor sent you there to taunt him? To see what he would do? The new overlord, Kennedy, had been talking shit about the Radio Demon for weeks. Vox hadn’t seen reason to worry about it before now, but the rest of the overlords were smart enough not to take a run at the Radio Demon, or anyone they believed to be the Radio Demon.

You met his eyes as you took your seat, a small smile on your lips, and Vox resolved that he would save you from this den of monsters. You were still the sweet little Bambi he had led tottering across his bedroom floor, before Alastor had stolen you. You were probably scared out of your tiny little mind, he reasoned, putting on a smiling face out of fear, or even compelled by the soul contract Alastor doubtless had over you. The small scrunch at your brow told him you were deep in thought, probably trying to think of a way out of your situation.

You strolled to your chair at the overlord’s meeting, a friendly smile to the woman you recognized as Rosie as you pondered two things. First- had Zestial rumbled your disguise? If he had, he’d shown no sign of doing so, taking his own seat across the table from you without comment. Second- was it a terrible idea to blackmail the King of Hell? The few times you’d crossed paths he’d seemed to barely register you as a person, merely part of an amorphous blob labeled ‘staff’. It was entirely possible that he would obliterate you without a second thought. And, if you did blackmail him, what would you ask for?

“Hello, one and all!” you chirped as you swung into your chair. “Tales of my incapacitation are unfortunately exaggerated!”

“More’s the pity,” muttered Vox, and you raised your eyebrow at him. It was only a few days since he’d sat next to your bed and begged Alastor to let him jack himself off as Alastor fucked you. Surely his feelings hadn’t soured that much for lack of aftercare.

“I’m sorry,” you said, cocking an ear. “Could you speak up? Your audio dropped out a little there.”

Carmilla spread her arms as Vox opened his mouth to retort. “Since we’re all here,” she said, a scowl at both you and Vox. “We should begin.”

“Wait, you’re just gonna let that motherfucker waltz in here and take a seat at the table like nothing’s happened?”

You turned and looked curiously at the demon that Alastor had told you you could kill. The Smoker Demon was tall by sinner standards, but much like you he was dwarfed by the larger members of the overlord contingent. His face was long and equine, his teeth jagged like those of most sinners, and he wore his mane plastered to his head with gel, the humanoid portion of his body attired in business casual. He looked around, seeking agreement from the other overlords.

“What? Are you just gonna not talk about how all our problems right now are the Radio Demon’s fault? The war with Heaven? Anyone?”

War with Heaven? Well, that certainly hadn’t been on sinstagram. You scrunched your nose. “Was that on the agenda? I didn’t get the memo.”

“Fuck the agenda.” Kennedy stood, glowering, and you watched as his demonic form manifested. Smoke streamed from his nostrils, wrapping itself around his arms to become biceps, and a single serrated horn proceeded from his forehead. A fucking unicorn? You’d never seen anyone manifest in anger before, except in the sinstagram videos you’d watched whilst prisoner in Vox’s quarters. To your surprise you could feel it, a low thrum in your antlers, akin to the feeling of the hunt. But the hunt was already afoot.

“If you could save that activity for after the meeting?” you said, a grin and a tilt of your head as you stared Kennedy down. You could feel the pulse in your throat, the promise of violence in the air. You felt alive. “I certainly don’t want to watch that.”

Vox watched you with increasing concern as Kennedy stepped onto the table. You didn’t know how much danger you were in, and no-one else around the table gave a fuck. They knew that one mid-tier bisexual unicorn was well within Alastor’s capabilities.

Vox watched as you rolled your eyes, turning to Carmilla with a lopsided smile, even as Kennedy loomed behind you, completely unconcerned. “The use of deadly force is still banned at these soirées, correct? Or did standards decline in my absence?”

Okay, you weren’t just unconcerned. You had a suicidal disregard for your own wellbeing. He had to do something, before Kennedy turned you into an Alastor-colored smear on the floor.

“Sit the fuck down, fuckface,” growled Vox, putting full threat behind it. That worked- Kennedy was too young to properly know the terror of the Radio Demon, but he knew Vox had a bigger dick than he did. Reluctantly he backed down.

“Unusually civic minded of you,” you said, in a perfect facsimile of Alastor’s voice, and Vox rolled his eyes internally. You’re welcome.

You stared across the table at Vox on and off for the entirety of the overlord meeting.

He had cut your altercation with your quarry short. It had been a great opportunity to gauge Kennedy’s speed and strength, maybe set him entirely off-balance by getting him kicked out of the meeting, and Vox had ruined it. It made your fingernails itch, your smile almost painful to maintain. You breathed through your nose, calming yourself by settling your attention on Kennedy, who glowered balefully at you, a little smoke still rising from his nostrils. What had Alastor even done to him anyway? You’d have to ask once you got back to the hotel.

Vox lingered after the meeting. “Hey, uh, Alastor. A word?”

You inclined your head, remaining as the others filed out. You would rather have followed Kennedy, but part of you still felt bad for just chucking Vox out of your bedroom. What you weren’t prepared for was just how close Vox stood to you, his face close enough that you could feel the static from his screen.

“I can take you away from all of this, babydoll.” Vox’s voice was low, the sort of coaxing tone he’d used as he pushed your knees apart. Not the voice he’d use for the real Alastor.

You kept the smile that Alastor had asked you to wear regardless. “Is that a threat?”

“Fuck.” Vox pressed his knuckles to his forehead. “You can drop the act, alright. I know who you are.”

“Oh? And who is that?” You grinned, slow and toothy.

Vox was quiet. You’d never given Vox your name. You hadn’t even given Alastor your name, for all you’d spent each night trading inconsequential secrets with each other, your tongue in his mouth and his in yours.

“Well? Who am I?”

“That guy’s bad news, okay.” Vox changed the subject. “He’s dangerous. He could hurt you.”

Oh. Vox was still buying the ditz act from when he’d taken you in. The only thing he’d seen you do was fuck Alastor, so you supposed he couldn’t really be blamed for that, and that certainly explained the protectiveness, however inconvenient. You fluttered your eyelashes. “How dangerous, exactly?”

It was hard to contain your excitement as you returned to the hotel, neatly sidestepping splashes from acid rain puddles. You had fooled a room full of overlords into thinking you were Alastor, except for Vox, and Vox had given you some downright detailed information on the overlord that you were going to hunt.

And you had traded up from Angel Dust’s toilet cistern cocaine to the identity of the person who had put spy cameras in your room.

When you entered the hotel you were so light on your feet that you were almost dancing, and you caught Alastor by the waist as you swept past, pulling him with you.

“It went well, I take it?” he said, falling deftly into step with you, taking you by the hand and by the shoulder.

You grinned wide, blood hot in your veins. “Zestial either rumbled me or you’re friends with him now,” you said, and Alastor laughed.

Your effervescence faded gradually, but your blood stayed hot, your excitement buzzing behind your teeth even into the night.

You watched Alastor, primly attired in his pajamas in the bed next to you, as he opened his book to the page he had reached the previous night. This was the point in the evening where you would find a book of your own, or simply sit and think, but you were too restless for that now; your senses too keen and your body still thrumming with adrenaline. You reached out and put your hand on his stomach, fingers trailing over the thin fabric, feeling the warmth of his body through it.

Alastor gave a soft hum, and turned the page, though his eyes did flicker to you briefly, curious. You pressed your suit, pushing up the hem of his pajama shirt to expose a few inches of skin, and lowered your face to him, lips brushing the skin of his hip, his flank, and then up to his navel; all of the skin that you had bared.

You lifted your gaze as your lips found his bellybutton and found Alastor staring at you over the top of his book, his antlers perhaps an inch taller than they had been a moment before, and you felt his diaphragm shift as he breathed in.

“You’re certainly forward tonight,” said Alastor, a warm crackle to his voice. “Did you want something from me?”

You shook your head, playful. “Don’t put your book down on my account.”

The snort Alastor gave was so soft that you didn’t even hear it, simply felt it through your hand on his stomach. “I wasn’t planning on it, dear,” he said, lifting his book again with theatrical indifference. “This is a very interesting chapter.”

Sliding your hand down the strip of hair that extended below his navel and under the waistband of his pajama pants, you found he was already hard for you. Just feeling his cock hard in your hand sent a sympathetic surge to your own loins, and you squeezed his shaft in your hand as you eased his waistband down over it.

Alastor feigned insouciance, but you could see the color rising in his cheeks, and feel his growing hardness under your touch. There was a matching heat in your own cheeks too; up until now, Alastor had been the one to set the pace, centering your pleasure, but now you had him in your hands. It was a surrender of the thing he found most precious- control.

You pressed your face to his stomach and then his mons as you stroked his cock, burying your nose in the coarse hair there and breathing in. He smelled like Alastor; like musk and woodsmoke and formaldehyde, and you felt the shivering intake of breath that he gave as you pressed your cheek against the silky-soft skin of his shaft, kissing your way from the base of his cock to the tip. Alastor made a show of turning the page of his book, but when you lapped up the salty liquid beading at his tip with your tongue, he actually gasped, his free hand going to cover his mouth.

You looked at him, questioning, challenging, but Alastor used the few seconds reprieve to recover his composure.

True to form, Alastor did recover, his eyes losing a little of their glazed look. “I hope you plan to finish what you started,” he said, his gaze going back to his book. You waited for him to finish turning the page before you took the tip of his cock into your mouth, careful to curl your lips around the sharp edges of your teeth, and sucked as you pumped his shaft with your hand.

“Fuck,” whimpered Alastor, and the noise went direct to your core. His eyes were closed, his teeth digging into his smiling lip as you stroked the underside of his cock with your tongue, pressing the head of his cock first against the roof of your mouth, then against the back of your mouth as you took him further in, saliva dribbling from the imperfect seal of your lips all the while. “Love,” he whined, though you doubted it was a confession, more likely a reflexive cry, a sweet nothing in his throat.

Alastor put his book down, pages open on the bed, and reached for you. You took his hand, twining your claws with his as you moved your mouth over him, going from pressing the head of his cock to the roof of your mouth to as far back in your throat as you could get him, the deepest point leaving you with your nose pressed to hair wet with your saliva, and then back again. His reaction told you that you were doing well; the quickening of his breathing, the spasmodic jerks that his hips made when you took all of him in your mouth- not enough to make you choke but enough to make your eyes water- the way his fingers gripped yours, and best of all the noises he made. Each cry he made was sweet enough to be intoxicating; to make your cunt throb and your cock ache, and you were sure that if you had ever told him your name it would be on his lips right now, in between the profanities and the broken cajun french.

You crawled between his legs as he kicked his pants the rest of the way off, your free hand cradling his balls as you took him in your mouth again, and between ragged breaths he reached for your antlers, fingertips brushing the perfect, sensitive spots that only he knew, a single tentacle extending from his back and resting at the back of your knee. It was an offer of a good ending for the evening, one that would leave you fucked out and content, deeply asleep on top of him, and it was a lie to say that it wasn’t a tempting one.

But you had other plans; you were feeling bold tonight. Gently, you moved his hand from your antlers, lifting your mouth from his cock with a soft pop, and took a moment to appreciate him being a flushed, panting mess for you. You stroked the tentacle, taking it in your hand. “I want to deflower you,” you said, as evenly as you could manage. “Let me fuck you in the ass.”

Alastor paused, his eyes registering surprise but not disinterest, and you gave him a few seconds to think about it. “You are welcome to try,” he said, finally, and for anyone else you would have offered reassurance. That you wouldn’t hurt him, that he didn’t have to do it. But Alastor had already swallowed so much of his pride in acquiescing to your request that any offer of reprieve would just have him doubling down, so you simply took him at his word, reaching into the dresser for the lubricant. It was one of the preparations you had made for Vox’s visit, a tube from the supply usually kept in the cupboard under the hotel’s front desk, along with the toothpaste and other single-use toiletries.

“Must I do all the work?” Alastor asked, a little archness layered over the desire in his voice as you applied lube to his tentacle, your palm spreading it across the smooth black surface.

“I’m not enough of a sadist to open you with my fingers,” you replied, wiggling a sharp claw at him, and his face split in a silent laugh. His tentacle coiled over your lower back as you crouched between his legs again, twining round your forearm and leaving the first few inches in your hand. You could feel the tension in his body as you touched him again, tracing fingers over his hip as you licked his cock, slowly, from the base to the tip.

He was expecting it to hurt, you realized as you took his cock in your mouth again, feeling the tension in his stomach and in his thighs, held open for you. He was expecting it to hurt and he was letting you do it anyway. You breathed out through your nose as you sucked his cock, pushing the head up against your epiglottis with a tilt of your head, and felt for his entrance with the knuckle of your index finger, stroking the tight ring of muscle with a feather-light touch before guiding the tip of the tentacle to it and pushing it in, your hand around the tentacle controlling the depth. You kept the motion shallow and slow at first, letting the lube on the tentacle spread to his hole, your mouth on his cock slow and unhurried. His body lost a little of the tension as he realized that you weren’t about to bully your way in, and you used that slack to fuck his tentacle a little deeper into him, motion slow and measured to not damage him as he took the thicker section of the taper.

Alastor gave a debauched noise that went straight to the base of your cock, eyes fluttering closed, and you held him by the hip as you kept up the pressure, his tentacle squelching into him now through the generous amount of lube, your lips and tongue and throat up and down on his cock. You could probably slide yourself into him now, smooth and easy as anything, and the thought made you twitch, but you gave him the tentacle a little longer, enjoying the way his breathing hitched at the nadir of each stroke, the salty taste of him as his cock leaked precum.

When you lifted your lips from his cock, he was staring at you again, eyes blown and dark.

“I need your hips a little higher,” you said, reaching for one of the pillows, but Alastor rolled his eyes and extruded another tentacle from his back, curling it under him to raise him up. The view it gave you was pornographic; legs spread, cock hard and angry red at the tip, glistening with your spit, his own tentacle stretching out his hole, lubricant dribbling out around it.

You eased his tentacle out of him, the soft noises he made at the sensation making your whole form ache with desire. Freeing your own cock with a quick movement, you lined yourself up with him, letting the head of your cock kiss his entrance. The sensation made you shiver, the skin there hot and slick.

Alastor’s expression told you that taking him in this position rather than from behind had been the correct decision. His smile was still there, but his ears were flat against his skull, uncertainty in his eyes alongside desire. You paused, palms on his hips, thumbs on his waist.

You could feel your pulse beating in your throat and in your groin. You didn’t want to harm Alastor, didn’t want to upset him, not with him vulnerable beneath you like this. You cared about him. “We can stop if you want. Just say the word.”

Alastor gave a scoff deep in his throat and used the tentacle looped around your back to push you into him.

The feel of being inside him was enough to make you forget to breathe for a second; his intense warmth and tightness and slickness around your cock. You’d worked enough of his tentacle inside him that you’d slid in easily, and you found yourself falling forward a little as you bottomed out inside him, his cock pressing up against your stomach, a snail trail of wetness as his precum spread across your skin.

Alastor’s smile was indulgent as he watched you struggle for breath, and he raised his head to kiss your forehead. “Do I really feel that good?”

“So good,” you said, your voice low and frank and thick with static, and Alastor’s answer was a purr, a vacuum tube hum from the back of his throat.

“I feel the same, you know,” he said, attempting a conversational tone and failing, slipping into a tone lower in his register, cock twitching against your stomach. “Every time I’m inside you, all I can think about is spilling myself.”

That statement sent heat to your face, doing nothing to help you acclimatize to the exquisite feeling of him around you. You bit your lip as you willed yourself to stay hard for him, reminding yourself that if you came in him now he was unlikely to let you try again. And you couldn’t let that happen.

Fingers round his sharp hipbones, you rolled your hips, easing out of him before pushing yourself in to the hilt again. If he’d watched you indifferently it would have been easier to keep hold, but Alastor was already half-lost, thick distortion resounding in his throat and through the cavity of his thin chest. His hands were on your back, claws flexing, tearing fine parallel incisions in your skin, but somehow the pain only ripped a libidinous growl from your throat, serving as an accent to the pleasure you felt. Alastor’s heat was slick and searing and perfect around you, and you narrowed your focus to him, only him.

You watched his face- the subtle change in expression behind the smile that he doggedly held, the way his eyelids fluttered, the way his larynx bobbed when his breath caught. You listened to him- the way he moaned and cursed in turn as you rutted into him, and the ragged edge to his breath. You felt him- his hard cock pressed between the two of you, twitching every time you hit the correct angle with a downstroke, his claws in your back, and the exquisite constricting heat of his ass.

Alastor’s breath grew more ragged, his voice more distorted, and you grinned as you felt your victory draw near; Alastor filled and spent on your cock. Alastor gave a growl, a low thrum of power, and you were caught off-guard as a third tentacle from his back curved between your legs and slid frictionless into your soaking cunt. You had been ignoring the ache there, but now, with a tentacle squelching into you, it was painfully obvious how much you had needed to be filled.

With Alastor’s tentacle stretching you, its movement compelling your rhythm, your already tenuous grip on yourself slipped, the cusp of your orgasm threatening with every stroke. You were close, too close, but so was Alastor, and you fought to make him cum, angling your hips in the way that made him tremble even as he forced you to adhere to his beat, tentacle curling in you with mirrored cruelty.

You came together; both gasping, both twitching, Alastor into the palm of the hand that you shoved between you to catch his seed, and you inside him, hot and deep and quivering.

“Alastor,” you whimpered, your whole body seeming to twitch with your first aftershock.

“Darling,” breathed Alastor, with as much awe as you had ever heard in his voice. “Oh darling, don’t you move.”

Your stomach fluttered as you looked at him, and you realized, perhaps belatedly, that this was something like love. You licked his cum from the palm of your hand, then held yourself over him, careful not to put weight on his injury. The expression on his face was one of clear, perfect bliss, with you inside him and he inside you.

You could feel yourself softening inside him already, beginning to slip out of him, and he wrapped an arm round you, pulling you onto his chest, not seeming to care when you lay over his wound. The claw marks he’d made on your back stung with the pressure, but you found you didn’t care about that, either.

#alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor x y/n #alastor smut #bottom alastor #antlerplay #hazbin x reader #alastor tentacles

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ceeplays · 1 year ago

Text

Favorite Default Replacements & Game Override Mods (Part 1 - Object Overrides)

A compiled list of my favorite default replacement and override mods from the past year, plus a few classics that I just couldn't leave out. This is Part 1/3 of a collection of cc finds.

(More info and download links below the cut). ♥

𝐻𝒶𝓅𝓅𝓎 𝒩𝑒𝓌 𝒴𝑒𝒶𝓇! ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

I hope you all had a lovely, restful holiday, and that the bugs in For Rent haven't made you rage quit just yet. •ᴗ• I don't know about you guys, but lately I've been feeling extra grateful for all the stunning creations our modding community has been releasing. So, I figured I'm long overdue for another mod rec list and voila! - here we are.

This time, I'll be linking my favorite default replacement and override mods! While I mostly focused on newer releases, I also tried to add some overrides I don't frequently see mentioned on YT or in rec lists.

The original post got quite lengthy, so Tumblr forced me to divide this list into three (3) separate parts (sorry for the inconvenience!). - Part 2: Food & Kitchen, and World Overrides (here) - Part 3: Electronics & Font Replacements (here)

As always, I hope you find this useful, happy holidays to all who celebrate, & happy simming! ♥

------------------₊˚⊹♡

Object Overrides:

@kirsicca : (1) The Modern Loveseat, (2) The Amaranth Sink, (3) Barely-Used BG Toilets

@surely-sims : (1) Growing Together Treehouse (becomes seasonal), (2) Vanity Make-Up Props, (3) Fire Alarm, (4) No Footprint Sleeping Bags, (5) Invisible Bassinet, (6) Basinet, (7) Booboo Billy Toy, (8) Nesting Blocks

@depthofpixels-cc : (1) Growing Together Treehouse Slide

@cowplant-snacks : (1) Seasons Holiday Tree

@lonvely : (1) Magnolia Promenade Trolley, (2) Toothbrush

@symphonysim : (1) Horse Grooming Tools

@dscombobulate : (1) Boxing Gloves, (2) Toothbrush

@superflare : (1) Infant & Toddler Sippy Cup

@simder-talia-blog (original creator unknown) : (1) Ice Skates

@elflike : (1) Ice Skates

@duplica-imite : (1) Ice Skates

@vroshii : (1) Ping Pong Paddle (becomes tennis racket)

@myxdollyt : (1) Fenty Make-Up Override, (2) Bratz Make-Up Override

@simmerwellpupper : (1) Game Controller (PS5 DualSense Controller)

@largetaytertots : (1) Default Replacement Haul (Lipstick, Pet Carrier, Mop, Pet Leash, Rake, Snow Shovel, Infant Toy, & more!), (2) Laundry Pile, (3) Folded Laundry, (4) Razor, (5) Cleaning Overrides (Sponge & Cleaning Spray)

@vixonspixels : (1) Female Roller Blades, (2) Folded Laundry, (3) Infant Bath Sponge, (4) High School Bus, (5) Restaurant Menu, (6) High School Homework, (7) High School Textbook, (8) University Homework, (9) Pencil, (10) Dog Leash

@bbygyal123 : (1) Infant Carrier

@apricotrush : (1) Scrub Daddy Sponge, (2) Presents, (3) Cleaning Spray

@serkisyan : (1) Playing Cards, (2) Make-Up, (3) Mail Envelopes/Bills, (4) Paint Brush/Easel Pencil, (5) Electric Toothbrush, (6) Charcoal Toothbrush, (7) Infant Bottle, (8) Cleaning Spray #1, (9) Cleaning Spray #2

@channel4sims-cc : (1) Aquarium Fish, (2) Kitchen Sponge, (3) Infant Bath Seat, (4) Infant Rubber Duck

@sims41ife : (1) Totoro Watering Can, (2) Laundry Bag & Pile, (3) Public Phone Booth (includes simlish swatches), (4) Game Controller, (5) Coffee Cup

@awingedllama : (1) Infant Crib, (2) Game Controller, (3) Bassinet

@cecesimsxo : (1) Infant Bottle

@ellcrze : (1) Infant Bottle, (2) Sponge

@bellassims : (1) Mysims Trophies (become squishmallows), (2) Mysims tTophies (become tsum tsum plushies), (3) Mysims Trophies (become disney tsum tsums)

@cocoelleansims : (1) Infant Bottle, (2) Grocery Bag, (3) Plopsy (becomes etsy)

@imfromsixam : (1) Infant Bottle, (2) Infant Rug, (3) Stand Mixer, (4) Invisible Bassinet

@hydrangeachainsaw : (1) Game Controller #1, (2) Game Controller #2, (3) Infant Bath Seat, (4) Infant Bottle (warning - paywalled)

@pixelvibes : (1) Elephant Watering Can (warning - paywalled), (2) Infant Bath Seat (warning - paywalled)

------------------₊˚⊹♡

the end! ♥

#ceesfinds #ts4 default replacement #ts4 overrides #ts4overrides #ts4defaultreplacement #ts4 #thesims4 #simblr

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tasteleeknow · 2 years ago

Text

HELLO STRANGER. PART FOUR.

PAIRING: minho ft. hyunjin x fem!reader GENRE: smut, angst, fluff, soulmate!au. enemies to lovers. jealousy. pining. unrequited love. WORD COUNT: 6k

masterlist and taglist ♡ pt.1 | pt.5

Minho keeps his word. He’s hardly around for the first few weeks, disappearing early in the morning and returning late enough at night that you can almost forget you live with him. It helps that Luna had a chance to adjust weeks before you. She’s decided this is home. You attempt to follow her lead. She’s a little leader, your girl. She always has one of Minho’s cats trailing her, a little companion on her adventures around the apartment. She’s never alone.

Hyunjin tosses his towel into the laundry as he rushes past you. “I’ll clean up when I get back,” he says just before stuffing a strawberry in his mouth. “Promise,” he mumbles around the fruit.

“Mm, don’t worry about it. Just have a safe trip.”

He was taking a well deserved break, a weekend away with his parents. When he’d asked you for permission you’d been taken off guard. Why would he feel the need to ask you? And then Minho’s cat had made himself comfortable on your lap. Ah. The roommate/soulmate. You didn’t expect anything to change. As long as you both kept to your normal routine, you’d practically have the place to yourself.

You should be happy to have some space. But you can’t help sinking a little as the door closes behind him.

The weekend passes with the only trace of your soulmate the water running through the pipes in the early morning. He’s gone before you emerge. As always.

It isn’t until you get a warning for severe weather and a text from Hyunjin that everything goes wrong. He was trapped. The ferry had been cancelled due to weather. He wouldn’t be back. Then you get a call from work. Stay home and bunker down. It’s a storm not seen in years, says the evening news. Expect power cuts and prepare accordingly. It’s enough to have you shoving your heaviest jacket on and rushing out the door to the convenience store. It was forecast to last two days. Two days of food and water and some candles, then you could hunker down.

The rain starts as you’re shoving your haul into your shopping bag, the wheels making the walk back to your building easy—in good weather at least. The sky lights up with lightning as your phone buzzes in your pocket.

Minho. Right. You were getting good at forgetting about him.

“Yeah?”

“Where are you?” he asks, sounding a little breathless.

“Out. Why?”

A door shuts in the background. “Have you seen the weather warnings? I’ll come get you.”

“It’s fine. I’m around the corner.”

A rumble of thunder punctuates your sentence. He was holding you up. It feels like the wind is picking up by the second, trees lining the sidewalk shaking their leaves onto the pavement.

“You’re walking? Do you have an umbrella?” he asks.

An umbrella was useless by this point, the wind would make it unbearable. You weren’t going to waste time arguing with him about it. “I’m good.” Not exactly a lie. “See you soon.”

It makes sense he’s home. You’re not sure why you’d let it slip your mind completely. It seems like the entire city is preparing to bunker down. You shove your hood over head as you venture out, keeping your head down and marching as quickly as the small wheels on your trolley can manage as it rattles along behind you. You’d broken a wheel off your suitcase this way when you’d moved in. Hyunjin had taken it from you, half carrying the heavy baggage over the bumpy surface. He wasn’t here to help you now, to cushion the tension between you and your soulmate, to carry some of your load for you.

You only had Minho.

You hesitate at the elevator. Wouldn’t it be just your luck for the power to go out just as you take the short ride upstairs. Still, there’s no way you can lug the heavy bag up the stairs. So you’d have to suck it up, your slight anxiety around elevators be damned.

It’s your last moment alone as you watch the numbers tick over above the door. You’d be trapped with Minho for at least two days. You can’t decide if you’re grateful to not have to weather the storm alone.

The apartment door swings open before you have a chance to fish for your key.

“You’re drenched,” Minho comments, pointing out the obvious. His hair is a mess, damp and tousled.

It’s not worth an answer as you nudge past him, dumping your heavy jacket and sodden shoes in the entryway. He follows behind you to the kitchen and then begins moving the items you unpack around the counter like he’s helping.

“Are you preparing for the apocalypse?” he asks, clearly amused as he starts arranging the many packs of water along the bench. “There’s enough water here to last us weeks.”

You pause your unpacking, turning to face him. “Us?”

He blinks. “You’re not sharing?”

You hum, feigning deep thought as you press your lips together. “Haven’t decided.”

“You’d let your soulmate die of thirst?”

He uses that word so casually now. ‘Soulmate’ slips past his lips like it’s easy, like he hasn’t thrown the entire concept at his feet and stamped it into the ground, like he didn’t admit to hating you for being his. He’s clearly in a good mood, his tone light and playful. It makes you want to shove him into your trolley and push it down the stairs.

You take a step towards him, keeping your expression neutral. “Haven’t decided,” you repeat before leaving him to unpack the rest himself.

You needed a hot shower.

—

He’s gone when you finish. You find all the supplies neatly packed away and the cats devouring their dinner. The light under his bedroom door is the only indication he’s still in the apartment. You settle into the lounge with a heavy blanket as the storm continues to roll in. Storms are nice, as long as you have light. Rain you loved, thunder and lightning. It was the threat of blackouts that had a tiny fluttering of butterflies starting in your stomach. Mina had said it was irrational, to be so afraid of the dark. You didn’t think so.

What was irrational about being unable to see? It makes you vulnerable. It makes you alone.

—

You’re completely disoriented when you wake. Two of the cats are sleeping between your legs, your neck hurts from the awkward angle you’d passed out in, and every single light is off.

It had to happen. You’d been mentally preparing yourself for hours. You’re fine, you tell yourself.

The sky lights up just as a crack of thunder jolts the cats off the lounge and into the darkness.

You’re fine. Alone. Fine.

Minho had left the candles out on the bench. You’d made a mental note of it after your shower. Phone. You had a phone. Where’s your phone? You dig between the couch cushions, willing your eyes to adjust to the darkness. It’s amazing how good brains can be at interpreting any noise in the dark as a threat. What was perhaps once a useful evolutionary adaptation, now serves to freak you out in your own apartment. You swear you hear a shuffle in the kitchen. The sound of slippers moving across tiles.

“Minho?” you whisper. It feels safer to whisper.

Silence. The sound of the whistling wind and heavy rain doesn't comfort you like it normally would. Not in the dark. Not when you’re alone.

“Minho!” you call. You could be embarrassed about this later, in the daylight.

A crash. You practically jump out of your skin, kicking your toe on the small table in front of the lounge as you leap to your feet.

Then a door opens.

Minho.

“The power’s out. I—”

“You’re alright?” he interrupts, voice croaky from disturbed sleep.

“I—I yeah, I just… I thought I heard someone and it’s dark and—”

“Fuck me,” he groans, clearly irritated. Then he sighs. “Alright. I left candles over here…” You tuck your feet up underneath you as he shuffles around. Then, “Hi, baby. You alright?”

Your heart skips.

“Oh you’re braver than your brother’s, hm?” he continues.

He’s talking to Luna.

It’s only when a faint glow appears over the kitchen counter that you manage to pull yourself up. You’re not alone. You have light.

“I’m sorry if I woke you,” you offer as he emerges with two thick candles. The embarrassment comes with the light. “I don’t like the dark.”

It makes sense to get the confession out of the way. What’s he going to do? Think you’re stupid? He couldn't care less about you. You have nothing to lose.

“Ah,” is all he says in response. He places one of the candles down in front of you carefully, making sure it's away from the tissue box also resting on the small table. “I don’t like heights,” he adds, almost like an afterthought.

He says it easily. It’s irrelevant. He’s saying it just to offer something. You shared, so he shared in return. You’re not sure why it renders you completely speechless. Nevermind the fact you’d learned as much from your bridge experience. The bridge. The one where he'd called you an infection. A buzzing fly. The memory snaps you from your stupor.

You snatch the candle from the table.

“Goodnight,” you offer curtly, silently wishing you weren’t alone—that you didn’t have to bunker down with your flickering candle and try not to think of the darkness surrounding you.

—

Hours. It had to have been hours. Luna does her best to offer you comfort, curling around your arm as you wait for the storm to settle. It doesn’t.

It should be easy, in theory, to walk across the hallway and knock on Minho’s door. To ask if he could sleep with his door open just so the thick darkness recedes a little around you. Alone. Alone. Alone.

But it’s not easy.

He’s not Hyunjin.

You reach for your phone. 3% battery. He was unlikely to answer anyway. Not at 2am. Thunder rumbles through the building as you wait for him to answer. Wait and wait and wait.

“Hello?” he croaks out. “You alright?”

“Hi,” is all you manage in return, suddenly embarrassed. “Sorry.”

“What’s wrong?”

He sounds more awake now. Awake at 2am when he should be enjoying his time away with his family. Guilt seeps in to join the embarrassment.

“It’s—I mean the power went out.”

He’s quiet for a moment, then: “You don’t like the dark?”

He makes it so easy. “No, not really,” you confess. “Not when it’s storming anyway. It makes it worse… I guess.”

“Minho home?”

“Mm.”

He’s quiet on the other end. A small comfortable silence. Like he knows you just don’t want to be alone. You can hear the storm through the phone. He’s so close, close enough to be feeling the same crashing of thunder and lightning.

“Has he been behaving?” he asks. His tone is light but you can’t help feeling he means it, that he’s genuinely worried you’ve had a horrific clash the moment he’s left you alone together.

“We’ve been fine, honestly. He helped me find the candles earlier when I got a little freaked out. We’re good.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“That’s good,” he hums, sounding tired again.

You attempt to convince yourself you feel better, that you can let him go back to sleep and then follow him soon after. “My phone is about to die. I’ll let you go.”

“Mm,” he hums. “Goodnight.”

“Night.”

You can be brave, you tell yourself as the line goes dead. It lasts until the next rumble of thunder. Alone. Alone. Alone.

Minho would be unlikely to murder you if you woke him again. He seemed to be insistent on getting along for Hyunjin’s sake. It’s a risk worth taking as your heart jumps at the next flash of lightning.

With your flickering candle and racing heart you make your way to his door, attempting to ignore the shadows closing in around you. The cats are around somewhere, you remind yourself. You can attribute the noises you swear you hear down the hallway to them.

What would you say when he opens his door? This would be the second time you’d disturbed his sleep tonight. Hi, sorry. I know you hate me and resent my presence in your life but I was wondering if you could keep me company? I’m afraid of the dark and the soulmate that rejected me is better than no company at all. Please.

You suck in a shallow breath as you rap your knuckles on the door softly, hesitantly. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9—

He opens the door slowly, eyes bleary and heavy. You’re not sure what to say. So you say nothing.

“Yeah?” he says after a moment, when it’s clear you’re going to continue standing there in silence.

Your lips part. Then close.

A crack of lightning strikes nearby, the loudest yet.

You watch as his eyes drop down your body, then trail their way back up to your face—like he’s processing the fact you’re really standing there at his door in the middle of night with nothing to say.

“Is the power back?” he mumbles as he rubs at one eye.

“No.” You lift the candle up between you like an offering—a silent answer.

“Ah,” he says.

You’re trapped. It’s up to you to lead this somewhere, to break this strange encounter before it lapses into awkward silence. You can’t just leave. You need an excuse. An excuse… An—

“Is it the storm?” Minho asks, pulling you from your panic. He’s leaning against the doorframe, his hands in the pockets of his sweats. “I’ve never heard anything about you being afraid of the dark,” he clarifies. “Is it the storm?”

You shuffle back and forth on your feet, swaying a little. “I… I guess, yeah.”

He’s quiet, waiting for you to continue. It’s easier to watch the small flickering flame as you speak. “I love storms. Rain too. It’s just… the combination with darkness and… being alone,” you mumble as the flickering candle casts shadows between you. “It sounds stupid.”

“How are the cats?”

You look up, finding his deep brown eyes on you. “What?”

“Storms usually freak them out a little.”

“Oh.” You take a small step back before attempting to make out any shapes down the hallway. Pointless. It’s completely dark. “I haven’t seen them since… since I woke you up earlier.”

Then he’s moving past you, into the darkness. You follow with your small candle, offering him the light he needs. He shuffles his feet as he walks, socks sliding a little across the floor. You feel better already, you realise as you follow him around. Suddenly the heavy rain and whistling wind feels like a curtain, shielding you rather than closing in. You’re safe and warm and you’re not alone.

“Here they are,” Minho announces as he slides down onto the floor with his back up against the couch. He reaches under the small table and pulls one of the cat’s out. You’re not entirely sure what to do with yourself, standing there with your candle as you watch him console a sleepy cat.

You decide to place the candle onto the table and sit opposite him. If you stay quiet maybe he won’t leave. Luna slinks out to join you, stretching lazily. None of them look disturbed to you. At all.

So there you are, sitting across from Minho, each with a cat in your lap. At 2am.

It’s nice.

If only Hyunjin could see you now. You can’t help letting a small breath of amusement out at the thought.

“What is it?” Minho questions, the candle lighting his face softly.

“Was just thinking of Hyunjin.”

He tilts his head a little, confused.

“He asked me earlier if you’d been behaving, like we were gonna attack each other the second he left us alone.” You pause, watching his expression. You can’t figure it out at all.

“What’d you say?”

“That we were fine.”

He blinks, keeping his eyes fixed on you until a crack of lighting pulls your attention to the window. It always seemed to be late at night that you found yourself in situations like this with him. Were you only capable of getting along in the strange period between midnight and sunrise?

“Are we?” he says after a moment—in a quiet window between rumbles of thunder.

You could lie. You could tell him you’re willing to forget who he is—what he did to you. For Hyunjin’s sake. You almost want to. But you find—as you sit there watching the candle light cast shadows across his cheeks—that you can’t.

“No,” you whisper. “I wish we were.”

Luna stirs in your lap, a small noise of contentment accompanying her readjustment before she settles again. She’s completely unbothered by the storm, your brave girl.

“You don’t like storms at night,” Minho says, apparently deciding to turn away from the current conversation. You were fine with that. “What else?”

“Hm?”

“What else are you afraid of?”

Okay maybe you weren't fine with the change of direction. “Why?”

His lips turn up at one corner. “Conversation.”

“We’ve never been very good at that.”

The other corner joins in—transforming his crooked smirk into a full smile. “So is that one of them? Conversations with me?”

“No.”

His smile drops off slowly, then he looks down into his lap. “Good,” he murmurs. “That’s good.”

“Swimming,” you offer. “I don’t… like swimming.”

“I can’t swim either.”

“I can swim. I just don’t like it.”

“Why?”

It feels dangerous—offering him parts of yourself. It was naive to think you could live with a person and not let them know you at all. Still, it’s scary. You’re afraid. You suppose you are scared of conversations with him.

You clear your throat as Luna leaves your lap and you wrap your arms around your knees—tugging them to your chest. “I uh—I nearly drowned as a kid.”

He says nothing, just waits. He expects more. He wants more?

“It was stupid,” you continue. “I spent a lot of time at the beach. My friends and I would go down at night—sit on the sand when we had the whole beach to ourselves. We never went in the water—not at night. It freaked us out.” A flash of lightning lights up the room again. Minho is still watching you, like he cares about your stupid teenage misadventures. “My friend’s brother came with us one night. We sat on the sand and watched a storm roll in across the ocean… watched the sky light up on the horizon as the sound of thunder got closer and closer. Then… well he dared me to go in the water with him.”

“And you went?”

“I’d had a crush on him for 3 years,” you offer in explanation. “I went.” You sigh, stretching your legs out in front of you—under the small table. One of the cats drops its paw across your ankle. “I got dunked by a wave. It was dark and the sky lit up with lightning and I thought I was going to die.” You can’t look at him anymore. You’ve shared too much of yourself. “It’s stupid. When I surfaced… the storm had reached us… and this guy I liked was back on shore with everyone else. They weren’t even looking for me. They hadn’t noticed I was in trouble… I was completely alone.”

The storm quiets down for a moment, leaving you and Minho sitting there in silence. It’s unbearable.

“Storms at night,” he murmurs after a crack of lightning disturbs the quiet.

You look up at him. He’s pulled his hoodie up over his head and his hair falls over one of his eyes. His big brown eyes that gleam in the candlelight. “Storms at night,” you whisper.

You’re grateful when he’s quiet after that—quiet as the candle flickers between you and the storms rages around you. You’re grateful he hasn’t left.

And then he stands. “Well…” he starts, “should we eat then?”

You blink up at him. “That’s not fair.”

“What? You decided you’re not gonna share your apocalypse stash?”

“You haven’t shared your fears.”

He crosses his arms across his chest before slumping into the couch behind him. “Ah,” he says with a deep sigh. “I guess that’s fair.”

You tuck your knees to your chest again and wait for him to start. You imagine you look a little like an eager child waiting for her favourite show to start. You attempt to wipe a little of the eagerness off your face.

He clears his throat as he plays with the hoodie drawstrings hanging down his chest. “Well… there’s heights.”

Bridge. Infection.

“And uh… I don’t really like bugs,” he continues.

Buzzing around like a fucking fly.

“That’s it?” you question as your shoulders drop.

He shrugs. Shrugs. As if you hadn’t just told him about your stupid fucking childhood-deep fears.

“Bugs? That’s all you can offer?” You pull yourself onto your feet and cross your arms across your chest, suddenly chilled. “I’ve never told anyone about the beach before.”

He tugs his hoodie down, revealing his dishevelled bed hair. He almost looks guilty for a moment before he wipes his expression clean and stands up—the small table working as a barrier between you. “I’m hungry,” he says.

“Tell me what you’re afraid of.”

“Starving,” he says with a straight face.

You step around the table, the flickering candlelight and conveniently timed lightning strike making the action seem far more dramatic than it should be. “Tell me,” you repeat, poking him in the chest with your index finger.

“You’re braver than me,” he says as his eyes flick across your face. “I’m not ready to talk about my storms at night.”

“That’s not fair,” you mumble.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers as a particularly loud rumble of thunder rolls through the building. You almost don’t hear him. You can probably pretend you haven’t.

“Fine,” you mutter. “Let’s eat.”

He follows you to the kitchen, trailing behind you much like you had trailed after him earlier. “You’re sharing?” he asks, a hint of amusement in his voice.

He leans against the doorframe as you dig out some of the snacks you’d grabbed at the convenient store as an afterthought. Chips and chocolate covered almonds were all you could offer at 3am. “You’re Hyunjin’s best friend. I’m obligated not to let you starve to death,” you say as you toss him the bag of chips.

He catches them easily. “I’m grateful,” he says. It makes you a little uncomfortable—the way he says it. The way he looks at you. Like he means it. You’re not sure he’s talking about the chips.

—

You wake up sprawled across the couch, a chocolate almond pressing into your cheek. It’s light out—as light as it can be during a raging storm.

Minho sleeps on his stomach on the carpet, his head resting on his arm and two of the cats pressed up against his sides.

He hadn’t left you.

You’re not sure if it was intentional. If he’d decided to stay with you or if he’d merely fallen asleep without much thought about you and your fears of being alone.

His blanket is much heavier than you imagined as you drag it from his bed and drape it over him before crawling into your own bed. It didn’t have to mean anything more than a silent thank you for not leaving. You weren’t capable of offering him a verbal one.

That’s the last time you see him that day. He’s around though. You hear the water run through the pipes as he showers and the clattering of him doing the dishes as the sun goes down. You manage to spend that night alone, curled up under your blanket with the knowledge that Minho was only across the hallway—that you could knock on his door and he’d answer. It made it easier knowing that he would spend the night with you if you asked. You weren’t alone.

Hyunjin interrogates you when he gets home. He waits until Minho’s in the shower. It takes you until the water stops running to convince him you really, honestly, truly hadn’t argued the entire time.

His shoulders sag the moment he finally believes you.

It’s easy to decide then—watching the relief flood across his pretty face—you’ll never argue with Minho anywhere near him again. You won’t add to his heavy load. He didn’t need to carry anything for you anymore. It was the last thing he deserved.

—

“Please,” Hyunjin whines as he drapes himself over your shoulders, disrupting your fork's path to your mouth. You sigh, dropping your head back onto his shoulder. His breath tickles your neck when he speaks next. “I’m sick of going alone.”

Minho sits silently across the table, slowly making his way through his own breakfast. He’d started emerging from his room more often—hanging around in shared spaces when you’re around. It was a silent agreement you’d made, to share space—silently. Conversation was still rare.

“I’ve already showered,” you say, lifting your head from Hyunjin’s shoulder to find Minho watching you. “Besides, I don’t like swimming.”

Hyunjin detaches himself from you and drops into the chair beside you. “Why? I know you like getting wet.”

Minho’s spoon clatters onto his plate.

“Rain is different,” you say, ignoring the man across the table. “I haven’t been swimming in years. It’s just… different.”

“Why?” Hyunjin asks.

It’s innocent. He doesn’t know. You can feel Minho’s eyes on you. The weight of both of them waiting for you to answer.

“I’ll come,” Minho says. It’s the first thing he’s said since his mumbled ‘Morning’ as he’d stumbled from the bathroom and into the kitchen. His voice is still a little croaky from sleep.

The chair scrapes against the floor as Hyunjin stands. “You don’t swim.”

“You can teach me,” Minho says with a shrug before attempting to shovel the rest of his food into his mouth.

The grin that lights up Hyunjin’s face almost takes your breath away. “I’ll come,” you find yourself saying before you’ve realised you’d had the thought. “I’ll come too.”

Hyunjin drops a kiss to the top of your head.

—

You own one swimsuit. You’d worn it once a few years ago on a day Mina had dragged you to the beach. It takes you longer than it should to find; to dig it out of a box you’ve left unpacked in the corner of your room.

It’s snug. Your boobs spill over the top a little more than you remember. You turn to check the back covers your cheeks. Could be better, but not the worst. You’re just grateful it’s a one piece. You suck in a deep breath as you attempt to tug it up a little higher on your chest. You could back out, tell Hyunjin you’ve changed your mind. But then you remember his smile, his soft kiss to the crown of your head. You wrap your towel around you and suck it up. Act casual, you tell yourself as you emerge to find both men waiting for you.

“Let’s go,” you say with a smile, snatching the keys from Minho’s hands and taking the lead out of the apartment.

It’s just early enough to miss the wave of early morning commuters clogging the elevators. It’s a quick trip down to the pool. You’ve seen it in passing—on your rare trip down the gym. You’ve never seen anyone using it. Hyunjin seemed to be the only regular user. Every single morning he’d make the trip downstairs with Minho before they separated—Hyunjin to the pool, Minho to the gym.

“It’s heated,” Hyunjin announces as he drops his towel onto one of the poolside chairs. He’s in before you have a chance to do the same—diving into the water like it’s as easy as breathing. You wish you could do the same. But the thought of either of these men seeing your tits spilling out the top of your deep red swimsuit is a little more than you can handle—let alone the body of water you’re expected to enter.

Minho’s lowered voice drags your eyes from the water as Hyunjin swims to the other end. “You alright?” he asks. If you hadn’t been regretting sharing your storms at night with him already, you were now. How are you supposed to drop your towel when he’s watching you like you might break down in tears at any second.

“I’m fine,” you say, offering a smile. You hope to god it’s convincing. “You?”

“I’m fine,” he says, “You’re obligated to keep me alive, remember?”

The storm supplies.

“Does it go the other way?” You drop your towel and tug your hair free, letting it loose. “You’ve gotta keep me alive for Hyunjin’s sake too, right?”

He blinks, a habit you’ve learned to read. He’s processing, sorting through his thoughts. “Yeah,” he says once he’s done. “It goes the other way.”

The water is warmer than you imagined, so warm you almost enjoy sinking beneath the surface. You can count the number of times you’ve done this since the beach on one hand. You usually manage fine. It’s the thought of sinking beneath water in the dark that makes your heart race. The fluesorant lights make it bearable. You can see Hyunjin. He’s here and he’s not leaving you.

“Nice?” he asks as he makes his way over to you, water dripping from his hair onto his shoulders.

“So warm,” you reply with a small smile.

He smiles back, bright and tender. You’re almost convinced if all the lights went out this very second he’d manage to light the place up himself. You can’t imagine feeling darkness at all with him here in front of you.

“Better than rain?”

“Not even close.”

—

It becomes a habit—morning swims. You never manage to eat beforehand, the anxiety makes it impossible. But once you’re in? It settles. You’re fine—each day a little more so.

“Why do you do it?” Minho asks as Hyunjin does his laps. He never attempts much swimming, spending his time soaking in the shallow end.

“Do what?” you ask in return, turning to find his eyes snapping up from the waterline to your face.

“This. Swimming.”

You must look confused because he pushes his wet hair from his face and continues. “Is it because he asked? You can say no. You don’t have to do everything he wants. He won’t break.” He looks over at where Hyunjin is about to touch the wall at the other end of the pool. “You said you were afraid,” he says in a lowered voice.

“So?”

His brows draw together. “So… why do you swim if you’re afraid of swimming?”

“Because it’s nice. I’m afraid and then I get in and I like it.”

He still looks confused. It’s enough to tug a small smile on your lips.

“It’d be sad to let fear keep me from something that makes me happy, right?” you continue. “Fear is hardly ever a good guide. I think I’m slowly figuring out I’ve gotta try and ignore it when I can.”

He blinks.

“Oi!” Hyunjin calls from the other end. “Stop standing around. You’re supposed to be swimming.”

“You hear that?” you say, turning to Minho again. “Lift your feet off the ground or it doesn’t count.”

He’s quiet, clearly still thinking—processing. You leave him to it, making your way to Hyunjin at the other end.

—

The first time you remember throwing up, you were five. You’d begged your mother to make it stop. You didn’t wanna throw up, it was the worst feeling in the world. Then it happened again a year later. A few years after that you’d dropped a lollipop on the ground, picked it up, and popped it back into your mouth. You’d thrown up more times in the following few days than you had in your entire life. Each time you promised yourself you’d never take feeling normal for granted again. Still, you knew that you’d get sick again. You’d throw up again at some point in your life. It was bound to happen eventually. It was inevitable.

Some things are like that, inevitable: getting sick, fighting with your roommate—who also happens to be your soulmate.

“It’s not up to you!”

He takes a step closer as you shout at him, as calm as he was when this had started. It makes it worse—the way he stays so calm, the fact it’s you who has resorted to shouting.

“Oh, but it's fine for you?” he says in a level tone. “You can stick your nose in and make choices for him and it’s fine?”

You suck in a few deep breaths. He’s too close. It’s making it worse. “Oh, I’m sorry. Am I buzzing around like a fucking fly, Minho?” you blurt out.

He takes a step back, almost staggers backwards. You suddenly get the urge to cry, that horrible feeling in your throat foreshadowing tears.

“You wanna fuck around in shit you don’t understand? Go ahead,” he says. “You’ll hurt him. You’ll fuck up and you’ll hurt him and then you’ll blame yourself and then I’ll—” He sucks in a breath and falls back against the wall. You watch as he drops his face into his hands and steadies his breathing. You wait for him to lift his face again, much calmer now—almost expressionless. “Please,” he says. “Trust me, just this once. You don’t know… you don’t know enough.”

“Then tell me.”

“It’s not for me to tell,” he says. He sounds tired now. Looks tired. “It’s his storms at night.”

There’s a beam of sunlight shining in from the window across the room. It cuts nearly directly between you. Nearly. A sliver of it catches his hair and the side of his face. He practically glows.

“Alright,” you breathe.

He sags against the wall, a heavy silence falling over you both. It’s awful, the silence after a fight. Embarrassment. Shame. Regret. Exhaustion. Inevitable.

“Don’t cry,” he whispers.

You hadn’t even noticed the tear rolling slowly down your cheek. You wipe it quickly with your sleeve. “I don’t wanna fight anymore.

He takes a small step forward. Then, “Me neither.”

—

You’re not used to keeping quiet. Mina wasn’t shy. You were free to slip your hands between your legs at night without any worry about holding back your whimpers.

It’s different now. You live with two men. Two men you very much do not want to hear you whimpering at night. Still, it’s a hard habit to break.

A tiny whine slips out as your fingers trace through your folds. It’s hard to even tell how loud you’re being. You’re hardly present. You’re somewhere else, somewhere with a faceless man with gentle hands and sweet words. He wants you, he wants to press himself up behind you and slip his heavy cock between your legs… grind himself against you… beg you to let him inside.

Then you hear it… the running pipes. Minho is the only one home. Minho’s in the shower. It’s impossible to prevent the faceless man morphing into your roommate. You’re too far gone—brainless. It’s his body pressed up to yours, his voice whispering in your ear, his cock sliding between your legs. He wants you.

You lose yourself with a gasp and whine, far too loud. The only thing that saves you is the fact he’s showering. Minho.

Fuck.

Fuck!

You scramble out of bed. You’re so completely fucked.

please reblog and share your thoughts. caption, tags, replies, or ask box, i read it all. feedback is what motivates me to write more!

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#lee know smut #lee know x reader #hyunjin x reader #lee know fanfic #kpop smut #stray kids smut #kpop imagines #skz smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids imagine #kpop scenarios #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #minho smut #minho x reader #skz imagines #stray kids fanfic #skz scenarios

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futfemfantasies · 1 year ago

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Kisses ~ Sam Kerr x Matildas!reader

Ever since Sam leaned in and kissed you for the first time in your car on a rainy first date, she has used the simple gesture as a form of love. On the flight back to London you're missing Sam just that little bit extra so you think of all the different types of kisses Sam would give you.

Rushed forehead kisses

You and Sam both play your club soccer in England but for different teams. You for your beloved Arsenal with Steph, Caitlin and now Kyra and Sam for her Chelsea. This meant you both trained on different days and left early in the morning while the other was still asleep. Today was one of those days. You had the day off while Sam had a 8am training and gym session straight after.

The bed dips slightly as you feel a light touch on your face. You open your eyes to see Sam softly smiling down at you while you adjust to the light in the room.

"Good morning my love. I have to go, but I wanted to say bye"

You lean up and give Sam a quick hug before she quickly kisses you on the forehead and bolts out the door. You laugh to yourself as you heard Sam trip on her pair of shoes you asked her to move at least 3 times in the past day.

Knuckle kisses

Sam surprised you with a short 4 day holiday away in the English countryside since you both were injured and your teams are playing away this weekend. Your shared bag is in the car and you couldn't be more excited to have some alone time with Sam. Sam walks quickly to your side and opens the door like the gentlewomen she is and you give her a kiss as a thank you. You being the designated passenger princess in the relationship meant you get to control the music for the trip.

As the buildings passed and various music genres have been sung by both of you, Sam moves her hand from your thigh and grabs your hand and kisses your knuckles. You blush at the gesture and squeeze Sam's hand 3 times as a silent way to tell her you love her.

"What's that for baby?"

You ask in confusion.

"Nothing really. I just adore you so much and I wanted to show it"

Sam looks at you with her trademark smile and you melt then and there. That was the moment you knew that you were going to marry this girl.

Grateful kisses

It's one of those days again where you had the day off and Sam had training so you decided to do the grocery shopping before you and Sam were meeting up with Steph, Caitlin and Macca for dinner. As you turned the trolley down various aisles, you noticed some of the chocolates that Sam enjoys and decided to surprise her with them. Grabbing the sweet treat, you turn around to see a bouquet of her favourite flowers. You put them in the trolley and continue of with your shop.

When you arrive home, you put the treats and flowers on the kitchen bench with a note that reads just because xx . You put all the food away in its place and you remember the Mount Everest of laundry that's on your bed. As you started folding, you hear the front door open.

"Baby?"

Sam calls out as she rounds the corner to see the flowers and treats.

"Bedroom!"

You hear quick and heavy footsteps before two strong arms wrap around your waist and kisses flooding your cheek and the side of your neck.

"Thank you for the flowers and chocolates"

"I remember you said you liked them so I bought them for you"

Sam turns you around and holds your hips close to her. She moves a small piece of your fringe away and holds your cheek like it's made from glass. Sam's lips join yours and the kiss sends you both end up on top of the laundry.

"I'm so grateful for you and I don't tell you enough"

"You show me in different ways and that's all that matters. I'm grateful for you too Sammy"

Shoulder kisses

Sam had a late training and media duties day again for Chelsea so you decided to make her favourite dinner. After getting back from the store 30 minutes before Sam was due to arrive, you quickly got to work in the kitchen. Just as you put the wooden spoon down from stirring the pasta, you feel arms around you and small kisses on your shoulder. You lean back into Sam and she mumbles something into you shoulder.

"What was that honey?"

"I said, it smells like home in here"

Sam replies with a sad tone.

You turn around in her arms and caress Sam's cheek with a pout on your face.

"At least we're going back for Christmas break. Only 2 more weeks my love"

You say hoping to cheer up your now fiancé.

"I guess you're right. Having you here with me helps that home sickness go away"

"You name it and I'll do my best to help babe"

Sam smirks at your suggestion and you playfully hit her chest.

"Not like that you perve!"

#womens soccer #woso #woso soccer #woso imagine #matildas #auswnt #sam kerr x reader

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kittycatasaurus · 1 year ago

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Love Flavoured Chocolates (2023 Willy Wonka/Reader)

(Cross posted to my AO3, I'm obsessed with Wonka and wanted to share this purely self indulgent reader insert because there simply isn't enough out there and hey it might encourage me to write some more if other people can also enjoy my writing!)

Word count: 3.2k

Willy had come to the Galéries Gourmet with nothing but his love for chocolate making, a wish to once more see his mother, and a hat full of dreams. One thing he certainly hadn’t accounted for was falling in love. He’d first had the pleasure of meeting you the first time Noodle smuggled him out of Scrubitt’s.

You'd befriended the young girl in passing on the street after she’d bumped into you with her laundry cart while neither of you were paying quite enough attention to where you were going. Though the collision was soft enough to keep you both on your feet, she had knocked the book your face was buried in straight to the ground causing you both to startle. Immediately the pair of you burst into apologies (which had made you laugh, despite the girl’s sincere panic), “You’re alright little missy, that was entirely my fault for not looking ahead of me, I simply can’t put this one down, I’m so close to finishing this new tale of a young detective!” You attempted to ease her worry with a big smile, it seemed to work as the girl’s face shifted from concern to interest. “Is-is that the latest Nancy Drew story?” She asked eagerly, trying to get a better look at the book in your hand. With a simple nod, keeping the easy smile on your face you answered, yes. From there the pair of you spent at least a half hour chattering excitedly about the fantastical feats of the young investigator until a nearby clocktower chimed, making her realise she was falling way behind schedule and would soon have to return to the wash house with a few deliveries still to make their destinations. “It’s been wonderful talking to you miss, but I’m afraid I really must hurry along, I hope I run into you again, my name is Noodle in case you see me before I see you!” The girl, now known to you as Noodle, what an interesting name, jumbled out as she made off to scurry away to wherever she needed to be. “I hope I see you again as well Noodle, you’ve been a delight to talk to! The name is Y/N” You called out after her and continued your stroll once she was out of sight, only somewhat more aware of your surroundings this time.

After that initial encounter you had run into each other a few times, eventually budding a wonderful friendship wherein you shared books and life stories with one another. Gradually you learned of Noodle’s more than unfortunate living situation and provided her comfort and reassurance in any ways you could, be that a book from your collection which she hadn’t yet read or a warm hug and shoulder to cry on, the girl became a younger sister figure to you.

This was where Wonka came into the picture, you and Noodle by this point had been friends for the better part of two years and saw each other frequently so you were understandably concerned when you hadn’t seen her around for the last couple of weeks. Just when the worry was getting to the point of you preparing yourself to storm into Scrubitt’s and demand to know about the wellbeing of your friend you saw her, tucked away from the main roads and pathways, talking to her trolley? Now that is upsetting, such a beautiful young mind lost to the madness of her circumstance. As you were about to approach, rounding the corner of the wall you’d hidden behind, a man emerged from the trolley clearly in conversation with the young girl. If not for your sheer confusion, you would have hastily approached the stranger as instinct kicked in to keep Noodle away from any potential danger. She didn't appear frightened or startled so logic told you this was no stranger to her, and therefore not a threat. Upon the realisation, you called out to your friend whom you’d missed in the two weeks of absence, “Noodle! Where’ve you been, little lady?” Immediately, both heads turned to face you and your breath caught in your throat as the mystery man turned and you finally caught a glimpse of his face. It was a beautiful face too, puppy-like hazel eyes, framed by fluttery long lashes, thick full eyebrows sat above them, complimenting his slender, pale face. Both pairs of eyes were wide upon you but you were still taking in the gorgeous man before you, to the point you failed to hear Noodle as she repeated your name, asking “Y/N? What are you doing here?” At the lack of response, she followed up “Earth to Y/N?” with a somewhat exasperated sigh after. Seeing the man turn to face Noodle shook you from your reverie and you let out a sharp little “Hmm?” “I said, what are you doing here Y/N? Were you following me or something?” Her look caused a twang of guilt for a second until you registered that, no you hadn’t been following Noodle, just actively looking out for her as you’d thought her to be missing. “Of course not you numpty! I heard your voice coming from a sketchy alley and saw you talking to your laundry pile, I only wanted to check you were alright, especially considering I haven’t seen you in a few weeks kid! It’s completely understandable for me to be at least a little worried, even more so after seeing a strange man come out of your trolley,” Your voice was taking on a bit of a scolding tone as you softened it to turn to the aforementioned man “No offence.” He shook his head as though to imply none taken as his eyes flitted between the two of you, the friendly smile never once leaving his face. “I take it this is Y/N, Noodle?” his eyes remained on her this time as she nodded back to him. Well that was unexpected, this mysterious dreamboat knew who you were courtesy of Noodle, and while you were flattered she told this new ‘friend’ about you, you worried over what she said in order for him to deduce your identity.

Together, the pair of them explained their plan to get the money to free themselves of Scrubitt’s unfair debt, going into detail about the wondrous and impossible chocolates made by who you now know to be ‘Willy Wonka, future chocolatier extraordinaire’. In all honesty your mind is positively racing to keep up, but with such bright smiles on their faces you can only nod your support and shoot a smile back, albeit a smaller one.

———————————

That had been a while ago, though it felt even longer. By this point, you had collectively put a stop to the chocolate cartel and Scrubitt and Bleacher. Wonka’s chocolates were doing better than ever and with everyone from the wash house going back to their old lives, Willy was alone again, well mostly. Abacus Crunch had been happy to remain the financial adviser for Willy and the group would do their best to stay in touch thanks to Lottie Bell and her phone operator gig but it was definitely lonely, going from all those people around him, that warm environment to nothing again. Although, you were still around weren’t you? You and Noodle? While you both saw her often, upon finding her mother and the library where she stayed, it was less and less that you found yourself in the young girl’s company, she had years of catching up to do after all. You wanted to believe that was why you were seeing less and less of Willy too, but the pair of you had no reason not to see each other often, after all, you’d quit your boring old job to help out and work with Willy at his shop as soon as it had been acquired. So then why did it feel like he was avoiding you, or attempting to shut you out.

This is where you find yourself as you sit with Noodle outside her mother’s library one warm evening. “I don’t understand Noodle, he seems lonely, it's simply a fact that he thrives off of being around other people so I don’t understand why he’s shutting himself away” a too big sigh leaves your mouth. “I miss him, I miss his cheshire grin, the confusing way he talks, even just seeing his garish purple coat” “Hmmm, kinda sounds like you love him” “Yeah, I just don’t know what’s u- WHAT?!?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN NOODLE?” Your face burns red as your brain takes a minute to register what the young girl chimes in with. In response she holds up her hands, palms facing you, “I’m just saying it as I see it.” With a shrug she shakes her head. Though her words do make you stop and think back to the many months you’ve known the eccentric chocolatier.

The first day you’d successfully sold Wonka’s chocolates on the street had resulted in a quick getaway where you and Willy had ended up lost in the tunnels below the city, escaping the corrupt chief of police for an hour or two as you attempted to meet up with the others to get Willy back to Scrubitt’s with the others in time for roll call. At this point you hadn’t yet been alone together, and the lack of familiarity seemingly made Willy nervous to the point his breathing got panicked and you shared a rather intimate moment where you helped ease his discomfort with a simple breathing exercise and hand massage. “Willy, give me your hand please,” you spoke in the most gentle tone you’d ever mustered after his laboured breaths stabilised, he acquiesced rather quickly as you reached out to him, gently cupping his hand. “I’m gonna trace the lines of your palm okay? It might tickle but I promise you, you’ll feel better.” The smile on your face eased any remaining nerves and once you started to caress his palm with your thumb he seemed to lose the last of the tension. “See,” your voice was still incredibly gentle, but now you were both smiling though his was significantly smaller than usual, “You’re okay, sweetie, I’m here” The pet name left your mouth so naturally neither of you reacted, though a moment later you flushed realising the implied closeness of calling him such a name. With level heads you managed to safely navigate your way back to the others in time and wished Willy a restful night. In retrospect that may very well have been when you first started to develop feelings for the man, you could no longer tell, in the objectively short time that you’d known him, you could think of at least a dozen other times that may have stimulated this apparent crush of yours. Though one particular memory comes to mind more often than the rest. The most recent to boot, the day you reunited Noodle with her mother!

It was the day you’d put an end to the cartel, Willy would finally be free to run his chocolate shop and live out the dream he’d shared with his late mother. The celebration in the Galéries Gourmet seemed to go on forever as everyone enjoyed the chocolate fountain filling up cups seemingly endlessly. A group effort had the shop back together in no time, looking as good as new. As the sun was finally descending from its high perch, your friends from Scrubitt’s all said their goodbyes and well wishes to Willy, Noodle and yourself. Leaving the three of you to lounge about in comfortable silence for a while. “We have a surprise for you, Noodle!” You said excitedly to the young girl who was almost falling asleep where she sat. Exchanging eye contact with Willy, you rose with Noodle in tow. Wide awake after jolting her about, she rushed to keep up with both of your longer legs as you sped away from the shop. Stopping abruptly outside of the library, Noodle gathered her bearings with a confused expression on her face and heavy breaths leaving her lungs, “The library?? What could possibly be so important in there you felt the need to sprint AND drag me along too no less!” She was understandably irritated, but you knew it would be worth all the effort soon enough. “Close your eyes for a second for me Noodle-dee!” Willy told her cheerfully as you approached the door holding onto the girl’s hand to bring her with you. KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK. “Now open them…” You whispered just loud enough for her to hear and comply. Before her, stood her mother, finally reunited after years of wishing and hoping. Immediately the two shared the warmest embrace you’d ever witnessed as you backed up and gave them their space, returning to Wonka’s side and overlooking the tender moment. A soft sniffle from beside you reached your ear and you glanced over to see Willy’s eyes glossy with unshed tears, the poor boy must’ve been reminded of his own mother in that moment, your heart hurt for him. “Come here sweetie,” you hummed to him, pulling the chocolatier into a comforting hug. “She’d be so proud of you right now, you know?” You got a teary chuckle in response to that as his arms wrapped around you. Noodle and her mother looked over to you now and you raised your arm in a wave to let them know you’d be heading back to leave them to catch up on all the time they’d spent apart.

The walk back wasn’t far, but it felt much longer without Noodle especially since you’d run practically the whole way there and were now strolling very leisurely. Neither of you said anything but you were touching in some way the entire time, holding hands for part of the walk, then switching to linking arms, even simply resting your hand on Willy’s back. Eventually you made it back to the shop, with the lights off, it was as though the magic was sleeping. As you entered ahead of Willy, you looked back to examine his expression, he wasn’t upset, of course not, he just reunited his dearest friend with her mother whom she thought long lost, perhaps forlorn was more accurate. The cogs in his head were clearly turning as he wrangled with his feelings, particularly regarding his mother and the seemingly impending loneliness he was soon to face. He stopped walking as soon as he entered, eyes still downcast as though expecting you to turn around and leave right then and there as well. With a low sigh you finally broke the silence “Willy, I’m not leaving you, not after that, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I just walked out after seeing those tears in your eyes.” He looked up, this time they had escaped and he had a sad pout on his beautiful lips. “Can you tell me about her? Have you got any pictures?” You’d not heard much at all about his mother from him aside from how much he loved her and that she was the inspiration for his dream turned reality. Willy gave a little nod and led you through the store to his makeshift office/home/break room, and on the desk sat a framed photo of a beautiful woman with a very familiar smile. “Wow this is her then? She’s beautiful Willy, you look so much like her.” You said the last bit somewhat under your breath as you realised the implication of what you said (as much as you meant it, it seemed a bit forward). You picked up the picture and sat down on the sofa in the room, patting the seat next to you for Willy to sit beside you, the rest of the night was spent listening to stories of his childhood and asking questions. The pair of you laughed, you cried, and eventually Willy fell asleep with his head on your shoulder. Getting as comfortable as the pair of you could, you let yourself join him in the land of dreams shortly after.

Now, it had been a few weeks since you and Willy had experienced the almost intimate exchange of life stories, as well as your chat with Noodle and you had the day off. Willy was on a break from work and went to visit Noodle at the library to tell her all about that night and how great a person he found you to be, gushing over how ‘kind, pretty, sensitive, and funny’ you were but somehow avoiding the ‘L’ word and seemingly ignoring his feelings for you. Eventually, the girl could take it no longer and burst out “Either ask her out, or I will do it for you! You’re such an idiot Willy, it's so obvious you love Y/N and I don’t understand how you’ve danced around it for as long as you have!” Noodle’s frustration was apparent from her face alone, if her words somehow hadn’t conveyed exactly what she meant them to. Willy’s eyes went wide at her outburst and his face started to resemble a tomato almost in how brightly he was blushing. As he opened his mouth to make a retort, Noodle interrupted him with a raised finger and a look that shut him up before he could even make so much as a noise. “Go see her now Willy, or I will.” Was all she had to say to get him standing up and practically sprinting out of the door.

A hurried knock at your door startled you out of your thoughtless stare out the window, you sat up abruptly, I’m not expecting any visitors, you thought to yourself as you walked cautiously over to the door. Through the peephole, you spotted the one and only Willy Wonka, pleasantly surprised, you opened up the door to be pulled into a tight embrace. Despite the initial shock, you quickly recovered to hug your dear friend back, “Heya, what’s gotten into you, sweetpea?” Genuinely confused as to the context despite reciprocating the affectionate action. Pulling back from you to look into your eyes, Willy responded, “I love you, Y/N.” Cue the widening of your eyes as you started to stammer out a reply, “Wh-what, huh, I-” “I love you, Y/N, I can’t believe it took Noodle calling me an idiot to realise it but I’m hopelessly, wholeheartedly in love with you.” He affirmed with a fire behind his gaze. You realised then that he wasn’t joking, this wasn’t a prank or him using the word in a friendly sense. “You, you do?” Tears started to well up in your eyes as you looked into his, “I love you too, Willy Wonka.” Not wanting to keep him in suspense, you confessed right back. A laugh broke free from your mouth as the tears started to fall from your eyes. Gently cupping either side of his face, you brought your lips together in a sweet kiss that felt like it could last forever, his hands finding a comfortable perch on your hips as you held each other close. Breaking apart for air, you both giggled, and leaned back into each other for another kiss, this one escalating a little past wholesome as you softly tugged at his bottom lip with your teeth. Breathing heavily now, you separated once more to stare into each other's eyes. Willy Wonka had confessed his love to you and you were ecstatic to say you felt the same. This would be the start of something beautiful, of that you were sure.

#willy wonka x reader #willy wonka #wonka 2023 #wonka movie #wonka x reader #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet wonka #reader insert

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zeke-trolleys · 2 years ago

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#trolleys #dubai #uae #service trolleys #trolley for hotels #laundry trolley

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simstorian-blog · 6 months ago

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Residential Floorplan Suggestions

New York City: TWO

(CC List + Links)

World Map: San Myshuno

Area: Spice Market – Waterside Warble

Lot Size: 30 x 30

Capacity:

A Dive Bar

An Internet Café

A Pizzeria

A Tattoo Parlor

Bonus: 6 residential rental units floorplans completed – not assigned

Gallery ID: Simstorian-ish

Packs Needed

Expansion Packs

Cats & Dogs

City Living

Discover University

For Rent

Get Together

Get To Work

Growing Together

High School Years

Horse Ranch

Snowy Escape

Game Packs

Dine Out

Dream Home Decorator

Jungle Adventure

Outdoor Retreat

Parenthood

Spa Day

Star Wars: Journey to Batuu

Strangerville

Vampires

Stuff Packs

Crystal Creations

Home chef Hustle

Laundry Day

Moschino

Kits

Castle Estate

Courtyard Oasis

Cozy Bistro

Desert Luxe

Recommended Gameplay Mods

(Please read through what each mod has to offer before deciding if it fits your gameplay style or not.)

Carl’s Dine Out Reloaded

City Vibes Lot Traits

Functional Tattoo Parlor

Functional Venue Lot Traits

Lock/Unlock Doors for Any Lot

Spawn Refresh

Use Residential Rentals shared areas as Community Lots & Create Multi-Purpose Community Lots

Build Mode

CharlyPancakes

Chalk Pt.2 (Tiles)

Felixandre

Chateau Pt. 1 (Stone Foundation)

Chateau Pt. 2 (Doors, Metal Pieces, Tiles, Walls)

Colonial Pt. 3 (Fence 2, Plaster Foundation 2, Railing 2)

Florence Pt. 1 (Fresco Mural)

Grove Pt. 4 (Plaster Column, Plaster Floor)

London Interior (Dining Chair, Stool, Walls)

Paris (Cartouche Large, Corbel, Swag)

Schwerin (Terracotta Female)

SOHO Pt. 2

SOHO Pt. 3

SOHO Pt. 4

Harrie

Brownstone Pt. 2 (Traditional Door Frame – Med, Traditional Door – Med, Traditional Window 2 - Med)

Coastal Pt. 2 (Column)

Klean Pt. 3 (Concrete Floor, Painted Walls)

Kwatei Pt. 1 (3x1 BiFold, Double Arch, Single Interior Door)

Mutske

Stairs Add-on

Lijoue

Louer Collection (Iron Fence, Railing, Stone Stairs)

Peacemaker

Bistro Expanded (Awning 1x1)

Graffiti Mural 01

Pierisim

Winter Garden Pt. 2 (Double Door High, High Window w Bottom x2)

Sooky88

Checkered Marble Floor

English Country Wall Set (Subway Tiles, Subway Tiles w Wallpaper)

Scandinavian Wall Set (Plain w Tiles)

Syboubou

Neighborly 1 (Ceiling Outdoor Light, Mailbox)

Neighborly 2 (Interphone)

Buy Mode

AroundTheSims4

Laundromat (Seating x3 – Metal Base)

Tattoo Parlor (First Aid Kits, Gloves, Ink, Ink Display, Light, Saddle Stool, Tattoo Gun)

Cepzid

Functional Tattoo Chair

Felixandre

Berlin Pt. 1 (Curtain – Tall)

SOHO Pt. 1

Harlix

Baysic (Coffee Table, container, End Table, Kitchen Cabinet, Kitchen Counter, Kitchen Island, Kitchen Sink, Kitchen Trolley, Kitchen Accent Counter 1-3, Sofa)

Jardane (Leather Pouffe)

Kichen (Cabinet, Cups, Glasses, Plant, Shelf)

Kichen 2.0 Pt. 2 (Glasses 2 & 4)

Harrie

Shop The Look 1 (Armchair, Coffee Table)

Shop The Look 2 (Ceramic Side Table)

Shop The Look 3 (Circular Cushion)

Spoons Pt. 2 (2 Tile Glass Pedastal- Short & Tall, Counters, Espresso Bar, Island, Pastry Platter, Pizza Board, Shelving)

Kiwisims4

Blockhouse Dining (Booth Seating)

KKB

The Chilling Home (Module Bar Stool)

LittlleDica

Greasy Foods (Napkins, Salt Shaker, Stalls Door, Stalls Wall, Vents, Wet Floor Sign)

Modern Kitchen Stuff (Soft Breeze)

Rise & Grind (Décor Mural 2, Décor Syrup Bottle, Décor Wall Painting Menu, Dining Tables – All, Wastebun Counter)

Max20

Happily Ever After (Sign of Attention)

NANDO

Fashion Store (Ceiling Lamp)

Pierisim

Coldbrew Coffee Shop Pt. 3 (Menu, Paper Cup, Tea Box, Tips Jar)

MCM Pt. 1 (Simstudio Display)

MCM Pt. 4 (Kitchen Island)

Ravasheen

Shake and Shimmy Dance Floor

Shop Chef (Drink Dispenser)

Severinka

Industrial Light II

Simkoos

Clutter Dump Pt. 2 (Boba Notepad, Boba Stacked Cups V1, Cafeteria Straw Dispenser)

SimspirationBuilds

Toffee Pt. 1 (Art)

Syboubou

Catherine Sushi Restaurant (Wall Shelf 1 & 3)

Contemporary Haven (Armchair, Artworks, End Table, Sofa 3P Left)

Macaron (Counter Display)

TaurusDesign

Lilith Chilling Area Pt. 1 (Bartender Kit, All Drinks, SulSul Sign)

Tuds

Cave (Panel Light 2 x 4)

IND 01

IND 03

Turn Couch

Wondymoon

Fraxinus AIO Computer (DL on Patreon)

DO NOT REUPLOAD MY LOTS.

DO NOT CLAIM THEM AS YOUR OWN.

DO NOT PLACE BEHIND A PAYWALL.

Tray Files: DOWNLOAD

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mychlapci · 5 months ago

Note

Using a disposable dropper to fill tinyformers Prowl right between the legs with thick, warm custard

Hanging tinyformers Prowl out with the laundry by clipping his doorwings to the line with clothes pegs

Shaking tinyformers Prowl's little fishtank

Stuffing tinyformers Prowl into a lubed up onahole

Tying tinyformers Prowl with some hemp and taping the end to the centre of the ceiling fan so he can spin in place

Swaddling tinyformers Prowl with a polishing cloth

Pouring melted wax all over tinyformers Prowl

Massaging tinyformers Prowl with a cotton bud/qtip

Using tinyformers Prowl as a finger puppet

Taping tinyformers Prowl to the bells of an analog alarm clock

Pinching tinyformers Prowl with plastic tweezers

Crucifying tinyformers Prowl onto a noticeboard

Tinyformers Prowl trapped on the seaf of a vibrating recliner

Tinyformers Prowl yelping on a metal trolley every time the built up static discharges into him

Applying makeup all over tinyformers Prowl's face, doorwings, chest and modesty panel

Tinyformers Prowl being forced to wear cute dresses in a dollhouse

Tinyformers Prowl getting licked within the inch if his life by a cat

Stuffing a marble into tinyformers Prowl

I... have a problem (-🔌)

aeghhh you know the prowl toy i have is perfectly palm sized and now i keep looking at him and thinking about these Things i would do to him.

i love how half of this is silly torture and the other half is unbridled horny shining through. Just shows the variety of the fucked up shit you can do to a pocket sized Prowl. But it's okay, he likes it when his tiny little valve gets bullied by big thick fingers and qtips and pencils and marbles and pens and.

Puts him into a sock and swings him around.

#what no we're not butting in on anyone's AU without their knowledge. this is. It's own thing. It's something new.#texty #dubcon

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dreamwatch · 7 months ago

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Disenchanted Lullaby

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest

In all my universes Eddie has Bipolar type 2. Make of that what you will. :)

Technically no pairing... technically...

Eddie opens the apartment door, a rush of stale air meeting him in the hallway. He steps inside and drops his bag, toeing his sneakers off. The curtains are still closed, dust motes decorating the room; there are upturned dishes by the sink that are long since dried. The sofa is a mess of clothes and books, discarded when he was packing. The place is just as he left it four months ago.

He sorts through weeks of unread mail, bills on one pile, junk on another. Starts a third pile when he recognises the handwriting on some letters; Dustin, Mike. Steve. He sticks that one into a pile of it’s own. No overdue notices because he cut off the cable and sent checks from the road for the rent and utilities. Probably confused the hell out of them with all the different post marks.

There’s a lingering smell of himself in the bedroom, an echo of him, and he wishes he’d changed the bedding before he left for the tour. He unpacks his bag, checking for clean clothes, but there’s road-stink on everything so he takes it all down to the laundry, trying to get four months of sweat and cigarettes out of the fabric.

He had the good sense to empty the fridge before he left; he forgot once and came home to find food so rotten it was almost sentient. But that means he has nothing to eat. He’s been living off pizza and Taco Bell for sixteen weeks; there was a venue in Denver that gave them fruit and vegetables among the usual subs and pizzas. He never realised eating a carrot could be a spiritual experience.

The aisles of the local supermarket are filled with women and their offspring, an old lady hits the back of his bad leg with her trolley, doesn’t even say sorry.

The harsh fluorescent strip light flickers above him as he stares at the deli meats. There’s fifty cents off pastrami. He needs to get bread.

The strip light hums.

Maybe some mayo. Should definitely get some oranges.

“Sir?”

He blinks and looks as the girl behind the checkout.

“Sorry, what…?”

She sighs. “$26.55.”

“Right. Yeah, sure.”

He hands over three tens and walks out as fast as he can. As he loads up the car he notices the twin six packs of PBR at the bottom of the trolley.

The stairs finish off the job the old lady started, he feels flayed and raw, but he ran out of Vicodin about eight shows back. The apartment is quiet enough that he can hear the whistling of his tinnitus. He thinks about calling Wayne but it’s lunchtime in Indiana and the old man will be sleeping. He’ll catch him another time.

He’s in pain and exhausted, so he slides out of his jeans, climbs on top of the dirty bed and sleeps.

Wayne used to say that his mother ‘suffered with her nerves’, and Eddie could never make any sense of that until he started high school. They didn’t see it for what it was at first, teenage boys and their angry moods, but Wayne recognised it eventually. Eddie’s been on and off meds ever since.

Right now he’s off. But they numb him, dial him down when he needs to be dialled up, so he doesn’t take them when he tours. It’s not smart; the last few weeks he’s felt it creep back, insidious tendrils grabbing him, pulling him down. His ‘nerves’. He needs to call his doctor.

It’s amazing how many people think everyone in a band lives together like The Monkees, all trapped in one big house. They did, when they first moved to Indy and found a two bedroom shitbox. Now, though, they can’t wait to get the fuck away from each other the second the tour ends. Weeks trapped on a bus with no privacy and very little hygiene doesn’t do much for long term friendships. By the end any camaraderie has begun to curdle.

Gareth and Matt live with their girlfriends now, Jeff with his wife and baby. They have solid families, good reasons to not be in the same room as one another until they have to get back into the studio. Eddie has his books, his records and a television set. He considered getting a dog for company but there’s nobody to look after it when he inevitably goes back out on the road.

He doesn’t verbalise it because it’s painful to admit, even to himself, but he’s lonely. He made some friends in LA, just for him, never to be shared. An actual boyfriend once. Or maybe just a lover, Eddie’s never sure where the line started and ended. But he has a habit of pushing people away, doesn’t even know why he does it. Hurts just to hurt.

He glances at the letters on the table. The letter from Steve.

The red light of the answerphone blinks at him, telling him the tape is full.

He sits down with a beer and a bag of pretzels and switches the television on, flicking through the channels until he finds the Wheel of Fortune; he and Wayne used to watch that together.

He really should call Wayne.

It’s nearly eight o’clock. He’d have finished his vocal warm up by now, finished his stretches, gone for a piss before drinking more water, drinking more beer, finishing up with a line of something. Roadie hands him his guitar, the black Flying V, he runs some scales. Hears the chanting as the crowd get antsy while their techs do the last mic check and clear the stage. Jeff is always first so the wall of sound has already built before Eddie walks out. A crushing roar that rumbles deep in his chest before he even strikes the first chord.

The crowd applaud as Gary from Sioux Falls solves the phrase: There’s No Place Like Home.

Eddie gets up for another beer. Comes back with two.

#corrodedcoffinfest #corroded coffin #corroded coffin fic #corroded coffin fanfiction #cw depression #cw chronic pain #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #cw drugs

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areumhwang2000 · 5 months ago

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Brought The Heat Back Park Sunghoon

Word Count: 1994 "Who was that and why were you smiling at him like that?" Sunghoon spoke with a raised brow as he came to join the aisle you were on. You both had decided to do grocery shopping together well you decided to do grocery shopping and Sunghoon tagged along because he was "bored".

"Ji-su my friend from my major. He was actually grocery shopping for something that his roommate forgot to buy and he saw me here." You replied with a nonchalant shrug as you tried to choose which cereal you should buy. Sunghoon wore an unreadable expression as he reached and picked up a box of Lucky Charms and put it in the trolley. "Your friend? Hmm…. Why were you smiling?" He said as he pushed the trolley to the next aisle as you jogged to catch up with him. After catching up to him you had a pout. "I can push the trolley myself." You said trying to take the trolley from him to which he blocked you from as his grip tightened on the handle. "You didn't answer answer my question." He said looking at the jars of jelly completely ignoring your protests.

"Why is that important?" You questioned. He side eyed you and took the honey jar and strawberry jam off the shelf. He didn't answer to which you sighed irritated at his usual poker face. "He wanted us to work together for the assignment we were given." You explained. "So you were smiling because of that? Yeah sure.." He responded glancing at you. "He was just being nice. He's actually pretty funny. He said that he accidentally shrunk his hoodie this morning and turned his roommates shorts pink…" You spoke with a smile before trailing off as you realised Sunghoon was not listening as he held the jar of peanut butter in a tight grip. "Sunghoon…?" You spoke before he cut you off. "Funny? That's not funny. Sounds like he doesn't know how to do laundry right. Probably doesn't wear his shorts right either or pants. He sounds like a total loser to me."

You frowned at his tone and words. "That's mean Hoon. Do you always have to do that?" You said with frustration in your voice. "Do what?" He said very innocently as if not even a minute ago he was talking bad about someone. "That. Do you always have to talk bad about a guy I like? Is everyone below you? Just because you're the prince of the school and have perfect grades and looks and basically have anything in the world that you want doesn't mean that you're the greatest." You spoke with a frown while crossing your arms as you scoffed and walked away to another aisle.

Sunghoon looked at you as you walked away angry and thought 'She's so cute when she's mad' as he decided to follow you. "You're wrong." He spoke as he looked at the fruits. "What?" You said with a huff still kinda mad at him but it was hard to stay mad at him when he looks so handsome and so boyfriend material in that hoodie and jeans. He wore a black hoodie and blue jeans and his normal converse. 'He looks so handsome but doesn't he always?' You thought. "I said you're wrong. You say I have everything but I don't. There's one thing I don't have and its proven difficult to acquire" He said with a sigh as he knocked on the watermelons for the sweetest. "What do you mean? …I don't need a watermelon." You said. "I want watermelon and I want you." He spoke as he picked a watermelon then glancing at you to see your jaw hanging loose with wide eyes. Surprise and shock flooded your body as Sunghoon chuckled. He damned chuckled. "W-what did you say?" You stuttered. "I want watermelon." He spoke nonchalant and laidback as if he didn't just almost give you a heart attack with how fast your heart is beating. "No after that." You spoke holding onto the front of the trolley for stabilization. "And." He said with a cool face as he held back a laugh. He turned to the bags of grapes and grabbed a few bags knowing that he's going pay right after you protest. "Sunghoon I'm serious!" You said.

"So am I. You said 'After that' and I replied. I said 'And' after I said 'I want watermelon'. I'm pretty sure of that." He replied. "You're infuriating." You said with a glare as you continued "What do you mean by 'I want you'?". Sunghoon pretended to think as he hummed. "I thought you were majoring in Law. I thought you were smart. I guess now you and Jake share the same brain." He replied with a smirk. "Wha-You little-!" You stuttered baffled. "I what?" He said raising a brow with the same smirk as he got closer to your face before chuckling as your face turned red and your ears. His laugh was like music to your ears. Over all the music you listened to Sunghoon's laugh has to be your favorite. "What did you mean?" You answered frustrated with a blush. He just smiled and continued checking the fruits before adding extra fruits that wasn't on the list to the trolley.

Sunghoon had refused to answer what he meant by that comment. Either he meant it or was messing with you. Standing at the counter with a trolley that had half of what wasn't on your list. As Sunghoon placed the items on the counter he noticed the cashier, Do-yun, was looking at you. He glared at the cashier and casually threw an arm around your shoulder after he finished unloading everything on the counter. The cashier noticed and nervously looked away from Sunghoon's glare and instead focused his job. Sunghoon secretly smirked as you looked at his arm around your shoulder then following his hand all the way to his face which was in his usual poker face. You deadpanned and looked at the extra items. "Those aren't on my list." You said but Sunghoon didn't reply and instead turned his focus to the stack of magazines by the counter. You sighed and reached for your purse to pay but Sunghoon was faster as he pulled out his wallet and credit card and immediately paying.

"What are you doing? I can pay for myself." You protested but all your protests fell on deaf ears as Sunghoon collected back his card from the cashier and nodded and lead you away with his hand still around your shoulder. The other employee placed the bags in the trolley. Sunghoon thanked the employee and pushed the trolley out of the store to the car with you who glared at him in disbelief. Sunghoon opened the trunk as you both put the grocery bags in it as you occasionally glanced at him. "Take a picture. It'll last longer." He commented with a cocky smirk as you huffed. "I have enough." You replied and entered the passenger seat with Sunghoon in the driver seat. Sunghoon sat in silence while you looked confused on why he wasn't starting the car. "Hello? Anyone home?" You said waving a hand in front of his face. He merely glanced at you with a serious expression. "What?" You questioned before your face heated up at the proximity of your faces.

Before you could pull away, Sunghoon grasped your cheek in his hand and stared at you. "I meant what I said back there. I want you. I've always liked you. I can't stand other guys looking at you. It makes me so envious that they get to look at you like that especially when you smile at those douches." You stared speechless at your best friend as he spoke. He continued saying "I really hate that I have to endure and endure every time they talk to you when I can't go up and say you're taken." You were left speechless at his confession. "W-What?" You stuttered. He sadly smiled as he spoke his next words. "I like you so much but its fine if you don't like me back. We can stay friends. I'm not forcing you but I'll wait till the day I can call you mine."

In your mind you were happy but on the outside you wore an unreadable expression. Sunghoon looked into your eyes before he let go of your cheek. "Sorry if I overwhelmed you. Shall we go?" He asked as he gripped the steering wheel already wishing to take everything back and go home and wallow in his sorrow and stupidity with his friends. "No…wait!" You exclaimed before apologising as you remembered you're in the car as Sunghoon winced and threw a playful glare your way. "Its not that I don't like you back. I like you too. A lot actually but you're my best friend and I don't know what would happen you know? We could possibly be ruining our friendship if we start dat-" Your rambling was cut off when Sunghoon pressed his finger to your lips. "You talk too much and over think. Its cute but right now you shouldn't be doing that." He said. "All I needed to hear was that you returned my feelings." Your heart was beating so fast that you worried he would hear. He smiled at you as he leaned closer. "Tell me if you're uncomfortable. Is this ok?" He spoke quietly. "N-no….its fine." You replied. "Can I kiss you?" He asked. He always was polite as he cherished the lessons his mother taught him and what he learned during figure skating. You always liked that about him since you met him.

Instead of answering, you nodded and he gently held your cheek. He caressed you cheek as he closed the gap and kissed you. It started off low and hesitant before you both got comfortable and bold. He held your cheek and tilted you head to the side to create a better angle to kiss you. His other hand went to your neck and pulled you closer. You hands gripped his hoodie and pulled him closer. Air became a must as you both pulled apart breathing slightly heavy. Sunghoon smiled as he rested his forehead on yours. His fangs were display as he smiled. "I lied. I love you not like you." He spoke as he stroked your cheek. Your blush intensified as you hid your head in his neck as he chuckled humorously. "I-I love you too.." You muttered as he smiled. "Good." He said as he pecked the side of your head. This was a new chapter in both your lives.

Not only were you both excited and happy to see where this goes but there was also one small request from Sunghoon.

"Now that you're my girlfriend, I don't want you talking to that boy Ji-su without me there or without my shirt or hoodie or my mark on you, got it?" He said one afternoon as he sat on the couch of your apartment with an innocent expression. "What?!" You exclaimed as the remote fell out your hand to the ground. "What? I don't like others touching what's mine, you know that." He replied casually picking up the remote and scrolling to pick a movie. "You can't just say that like its nothing." You were about to continue scolding when you realised he wasn't paying attention. Either he was too focused on the tv or he was purposely ignoring you. Knowing Sunghoon, its probably the latter. "Sunghoon, you little shi-!" You were about to say before he sighed irritated and turned to you and pulling you by your neck and successfully shutting you up with a kiss. He smirked after he pulled away.

"Which movie should we watch?" He said smugly as he looked at your flustered appearance. Yeah, he could get used to this.

A/N: I'm practically obsessed with the Romance: Untold album and my favorite songs are Brought The Heat Back and Moonstruck also Highway 1009. Pls enjoy and reblog and share🤗

#sunghoon x reader #sunghoon imagines #enha fluff #enhypen fluff #enhypen fic #enhypen scenarios #enha x reader #park sunghoon imagines

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