#she’s just so precious i love her sm <3

[demonio-fleurs]

I love that Robin has only been a part of the crew for a few days, and yet

Not only is she included as part of the Monster Trio who Do Not Need Help™️, she also immediately follows along and agrees to not blow the whistle.

It’s so cute. I love this panel so much. I want to frame it and hang it on a wall.

[diabeticgirl4]

is caturday still a thing?

here have some pictures of Cat

(short for Catherine)

[sweetteainthesummerx]

⋆·˚ ༘ * oh, my, my, my ⋆·˚ ༘ *

nhl masterlist !

pairings: quinn hughes x childhood friend!reader, jack hughes x platonic best friend!reader, quinn x artist!reader

warnings: angst and comfort, fluff

summary: you and quinn throughout the years, and how you fall in love <3

song: mary's song (oh my my my) by taylor swift

word count: 4.4 k

notes: I love lake quinn sm :)

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

our daddies used to joke about the two of us, growing up and falling in love, our mamas smiled, and rolled their eyes

"oh, she's so tiny!" ellen cooes, cradling the little bundle of pink, "and she has your eyes, birdie."

your mother smiles at the nickname her college friend had given her freshman year, when a bird had pooped on her head during a girl's night out.

it stuck (literally), and almost 10 years later, as her best friend holds her babygirl, she's reminded of everything they'd been through together.

"congrats, man. the first girl in the family!" jim slaps your dad on the shoulder, the two men smiling at their wives.

"oh, she's just precious." you yawn, and all of the adults are reduced to an awwing mess.

quinn toddles over, chubby toddler legs still unsure. he lands on his butt half a foot away from ellen, who lifts him up with the hand that wasn't holding you.

"look, quinny."

quinn reaches out a finger towards you, and jim is about to chide him when your tiny little fist locks around it. his wide eyes widen even more. you gurgle happily at him, and for the first time in a while, he goes completely still, enraptured by the baby in front of him.

"oh." your father whispers.

"well, that's your son-in-law now," jim laughs.

"hey, don't count out jack! they're closer in age, after all."

your mom rolls her eyes, as ellen snorts, "let's not pre-write our kid's futures before they're five, please."

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

i was seven and you were nine, i looked at you like the stars that shine

"y'know, birdie," ellen starts, "the boys might be right."

"no, they cannot eat four pb and j's and then go to the carnival-"

"no, not the little ones!", ellen laughs, "our husbands. they might be right."

"oh, that? the whole son-in-law thing?" your mom grins, as she watches luke chase after you with a worm.

the two women are silent and thoughtful as you - screaming at the top of your lungs - duck behind quinn, who sternly tells off his little brother. your sticky hands lace with his, naturally, albeit a bit awkward the way only kids can be.

you absolutely adore quinn. he's your protector, the one you turn to more often than not. jack is your best friend, and you remind her of that often. luke is your baby brother, the one you coddle and fuss over.

and the boys adore you just as much; jack plays pirates with you all day, Luke follows you like a puppy, and quinn...

he's staked a claim on you that makes your mom laugh, but worry a little when your older and you inevitably find someone who isn't him.

it never occurred to her that he might be the one.

"oh my god." your mom says as your dad walks in with jim.

"ha! see? I know I put money on my son for good reason." jim says gleefully, and quickly pipes down at ellen's dirty look.

"jack is also your son, man." your dad shakes his head.

"seriously? you guys made bets on the future love lives of your prepubescent kids?"

"birdie, it's just a joke!"

he eats his words as quinn leads you through the door. you're in tears, a nasty scrape on your knee. he's got your hand cradled in his.

ellen and your mom fawn over it, how brave you were, but all you could remember is how quinn held your hand the whole time.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

take me back when our world was one block wide, i dared you to kiss me and ran when you tried

when you're ten, you almost have your first kiss.

you're going through a phase, really, when all you would wear were your overall jean shorts, a big t-shirt and your red converses. you have little pen drawings all over your shoes and shorts.

now, when you look at the photos from back then, you cringe a little at how lanky and young you look.

you're with the boys at one of the neighbouring lake houses, a couple of other girls and a few guys too.

everyone there lived on the same block, so it was odd that you hadn't all hung out together before.

quinn can tell you're uncomfortable around the other guys, who are loud and frankly very obnoxious. even his 12-year-old self can tell.

he tells you that you can all leave and go get ice cream near the boardwalk, but you refuse. you're 10 already, you can handle a few new strangers.

somehow, spin the bottle is brought up and you find yourself sitting cross-legged as one of the older girls - who's kind and much more grown than you - tellsdyou how to spin the bottle.

your hands shake and the backs of your knees are slick with sweat, but you spin anyways. you want to seem cool and older too.

you watch the root beer bottled patter as it turns, the ting, ting sound dissonant with your thumping heart.

it lands on quinn.

your quinn who knows all of the words to the spider man movies, who gives the last popsicle to you and lets you tuck your feet under his thighs when you get cold.

this is a disaster, you think, because you don't know how to kiss! are you supposed to use your tongue? you almost gag at the thought.

quinn can see your very apparent panic, and the only thing on his mind was to make it of away.

he wants to hold your hand, but when you turned nine you had decided that boys had cooties, so you refused to touch him or his brothers.

"...we don't have to," he offers, scratching his neck. one of the boys boo, and you flush.

you shook your head, "i want to."

he smiles, shy and boyish and your heart goes into overdrive.

his face matches yours in colour as he scoots forward awkwardly, cupping your face the way he'd seen his dad do to his mom.

as he leans forward, you burst into tears. if you kiss him, and he's disgusted by your kissing skills - or lack thereof - he wouldn't be your quinn anymore.

you run out embarrassed, leaving quinn's hand outstretched and the older girl from earlier confused and worried.

you think that you had ruined it all, but later that night when quinn offers to take you to get ice cream and lets you get two scoops, you know nothing can tear the two of you apart.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

take me back to the creek beds we turned up, two A.M. riding in your truck and all I need is you next to me

the year quinn turned 16, he gets his boating and drivers license.

when the first real day of summer - he doesn't count the days until he sees you and the lake house again - starts and he finds you making eggs and bacon in the kitchen, he gives you an offer.

"hey, chickie." he tugs playfully at the string of your apron. jim had given you that nickname because of your mom's. chickie, like a baby bird. jack liked to call you chicklet, and Luke followed suit.

the adults think you've outgrown that name, and only call you chickie sporadically.

it's become special for you and quinn, sacred even,

"hi, quinny." you answer in the same tone, swatting him with the spatula in your hand.

"give me a piece of bacon and i'll take you out onto the water. i'll even let you drive a bit when we're far out." he murmurs as you turn the stove off.

"really?" you squeal, and he winces jokingly.

"yes, yes! finally!" you throw yourself at him, letting the older boy catch you around the waist. he grins into your hair, his cheek muscles unused by the seasons without you.

"okay, kid. pipe down. where's my bacon?" he grumbles, but he smiles when you turn around to fix him a whole plate.

you forget in all of your excitement that he doesn't even like bacon.

it's pathetic, really, but he missed you. he still does even though you're less than a foot away from him, salting your scrambled eggs.

he finishes his food faster than you do, and leaves to set up the boat with your promises that you would hurry.

he's excited; he hasn't seen you since christmas, and then, he had to share you with jack and luke and his parents too.

that year, you and jack had become decidedly closer, and quinn knows he has to establish that boat time was for you and him only.

so when jack and luke both follow you onto the boat, whooping and screaming, he's pissed.

and on top of that, he has to drive the boat while you and jack banter and threaten to shove each other off of the moving vessel.

it wasn't fair: you're his person. you guys did gas station runs together, you always looked at him with sad puppy eyes when you were cold.

he'd always grumbled and give you his sweatshirt when you refused to bring a jacket and ended up shivering. you always begged to braid his hair when the sun was at it's highest and there was nothing to do.

so yeah, excuse him if he was mad that your time together was interrupted by jack and luke of all people.

so when you walk up to him, hair messy and wearing nothing but your bathing suit and one of his old hockey jerseys, he tries his best to ignore you.

"quinny!" you exclaim, nudging his shoulder, and once more when he doesn't answer.

he glances quickly at you, but one look is enough to make his chest squeeze in that way that it started to do since last summer.

you had always been beautiful, but you were starting to be seriously gorgeous.

your hair is windblown, skin tanned and freckled with eyes bright from the sheer novelty of it being summer again.

you'd started to fill out more; the tiny bikinis you - and he - loved made something hot tug in his lower stomach.

tucking your hand into the crook of his elbow in the way that always makes him soften like butter, "I thought you were gonna let me drive!"

"ask jack to teach you," he snarks, and regrets it immediately at the hurt on your face.

his chest tightens, like someone has taken the hurt on your features and shoved it between his rib cage so he couldn't breathe.

the two of you don't talk for the rest of the day.

quinn feels like an asshole, and he really doesn't like how you refuse to sit in your normal spot next to him during movie night, instead opting to tuck yourself between the edge of the couch and luke.

and the salt on the wound was when you don't laugh at the stupid jokes he makes for you, especially.

his mom asks him what he had done when he goes to get more popcorn in the kitchen.

"what? why did you automatically assume I didn't something?" he asked, offended.

"because, that girl sticks to you like a magnet," ellen smooths his temple, "and because no one makes you smile and talk like she does. you've been silent all day."

the next night, he shows up at the door of your room in the lake house your two families shared.

he knocks, and pokes his head in, "chickie?

you're at your table, drawing again like you always were.

he keeps the little sketch of him you made last summer in his wallet, tucked under the picture of all of the hughes boys and you.

you ignore him, and he flops on your bed. the floral sheets your mom bought when you were 11 smells like you. he tries not to be creepy and inhale - at least too noticeably.

"gas station run?" he asks.

you finally spare him a glance, "quinny, it's past one o'clock, and it'll take at least 20 minuted to get there."

"please? I really want chips."

you sigh, ever the martyr, and agree. neither of you mention how the hughes stock up enough snacks to last at least 2 months the beginning of every summer.

the battle of who cracks first kept on, until finally, on the way back from the gas station, quinn sighs, "I'm sorry.

you frown, clearly not impressed, "I don't even know why you're sorry."

"god, this is embarrassing-"

"quintin, i swear-"

"i wanted the boat ride to be just us two!" he exclaims loudly.

there was a beat of silence, only the chirp of crickets that crept in the tall grass you could hear through the open windows of jim's truck.

the light on the radio shined, 1:59 AM.

"what?" you ask, a little confused and very much flustered.

"i missed you, chickie, and jack is always monopolizing your time! you're my person and-"

"are you jealous?"

"what?"

"oh my god, you are! you're jealous!"

"no!" he splutters, grateful that it's pitch black outside, because he can feel his ears heating up.

you laugh, tugging at one of his curls, as he grumbles something about not letting you eat any of his salt and vinegar chips.

"quinny?" you ask a little while later, when he's pulling back into the drive way, "y'know that you're my person too, right?"

you look soft and sleepy, under the light of the car, in one of his hoodies and sleep shorts.

he swears he turns into liquid in the drivers seat.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

well, i was sixteen when suddenly, i wasn't that little girl you used to see

"I wouldn't worry about that, chicklet." jack throws his arm around you, and you roll your eyes at the many girls starting to glare at you.

"I don't know what you're talking about." except you do.

there's a girl flirting with quinn, and she's pretty. she's got tattoos on her arms, and she's tall, almost tall at him.

you take a break from the self-deprecating comparison between yourself and her to admire quinn for one second.

he's gotten so tall and broad, all the signs of boyhood gone, except when he smiles that special smile for you. the one when his eyes get all squinty and he bares all of his pretty teeth.

your heart twists, because he hasn't smiled at you like that all summer.

you don't know what you did wrong. maybe he's outgrowing you. he'll be a college man next fall, and you're still in high school.

he's got the whole world in front of him, and well, you couldn't blame him if he didn't want to settle for you.

you realize your feelings for him the beginning of the summer.

or you uncover them, because if you're honest, they've always been there.

and right now, you're wearing your heart on your sleeve, because he looks so handsome in a tight black t-shirt and shorts, a backwards cap on his curls.

his biceps look huge, and between the teenage hormones and the two shots in your system, you want to climb him like a tree.

the more romantic side of you wished you had your charcoal and parchment, so you can copy down his likeness for when your old and greying and you can't remember how he looks illuminated by the moon and bonfire.

"yeah, sure. you're clueless." jack snorts, and he makes his way to the drink table at the party you're at.

you pass by Luke, who's preoccupied by a girl way too old for him, and go sit closer to the fire.

you're mad.

you're mad because you've dressed up real cute, in a tiny black tube top and denim shorts.

you're mad because your hair is curled the way quinn likes it.

you know that for a fact because every time it looks like that, he comes up behind you to wind his fingers through a strand. it was a hassle, and he won't even look at you.

"what's a pretty girl like you doing alone?"

it's a boy with mussed, brown hair and a nice smile.

he's cute. peter, or pierre, he introduces himself. he reminds you a bit of the boyfriend you had first semester of sophomore year.

you've had boyfriends, and quinn has had his relationships, but summer was sacred.

that's why you felt ill when you flirted with him, not because quinn was a mere 20 feet away, starting to glance over and frown.

quinn has always been a jealous motherfucker; you'd give it 5 minutes before he comes over.

you try not to gloat when he comes over in 2.

"hey, chickie. time to go." he tells you, taking you cup and winding an arm around your waist.

you roll your eyes, pushing him off, "no, I'm good here,"

quinn crosses his arms and puffs out his chest, biceps flexing in front of you.

the boy smiles - you've already forgotten his name, something p - and shrugs at quinn.

he's mad now, you can tell, but you wrap you're fingers around the other boy's elbow to egg him on.

"oh, for- that's it. c'mon."

suddenly, your feet are swept out from under you, and you're thrown over his shoulder.

you frown, realizing that you're in the air.

"hey!" you protest weakly as people turn to look at you. quinn continues his trudge all the way to where he's parked his dad's truck and dumps you on the hood like you weigh nothing.

"what are you doing?" he asks, eyes dark, "that guy is no good-"

"no! what are you doing?" all of your frustration pools in your throat, and embarrassing tears are starting to prick at your eyes.

"you won't even look at me all summer, you're flirting with some girl and you get mad at me? you're being such-"

he shakes his head, looking as exasperated as you feel.

"do you know how hard it is-" he breathes out shakily, "how difficult it is to control myself around you?"

"what?" you ask, heart beating in your ears, "what?"

"i have been in love with you since i was 12, chickie." his tone is begging, and so are his eyes.

he looks pained, and you want to relieve it so, so badly. but he still won't touch you. he's hovering away from you, like he has for the past month.

"i love you, and you see me nothing more than a brother, like how you see jack. and it hurts, here," he rubs the heel of his palm between his ribs, "to know that you'll never want me the same way."

"quinn-"

"no, let me talk. I've spent the past 6 years pining after you. I've tried to move on, but all...nothing compares to you. I want you so bad, chickie, but..." he turns from you, head in his hands.

now, if you weren't like 3 beers and 2 shots deep, you would realize that he can't really go anywhere because you're quite literally on the top of his car.

but drunk you is clearly a dumbass, because you think he's trying to leave. so you tell him what's actually on your mind.

"i love you!" you blurt out.

he turns slowly, "what?"

"i love you too. i thought you didn't want me because you're leaving for college, but i want you so bad, please-"

the next thing you know, he's between your legs, so warm and solid, pulling you in by your cheek like during that spin the bottle game 6 years ago.

you let him kiss you for real this time, you let him push up your shorts to feel more of your skin, you let him lick into your mouth.

he pulls away, and you whine, tugging him in again.

he laughs, which makes you laugh in turn, and you slide down the hood as you giggle. he catches you, because he always does.

"i love you." you tell him, and he flushes, nuzzling into your neck.

"say it again," he demands, just because he can.

"i love you, my quinny." you coo, and he wants to crawl into your skin and settle there forever.

"i love you too, chickie."

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

oh, my, my, my

"told you so." Jim tells the rest of the parents.

the four of them - the weirdos - are on the second floor, leaning on the bannister as you make breakfast with quinn.

well, you make breakfast and he's distracting you.

he's got his arms wrapped around your shoulders from the back, and the two of you waddle like a pair of penguins around the kitchen gathering ingredients for pancakes.

you're giggling, and he's got a half-smile on his face.

you look so happy together than ellen and your mom are ignoring jim's gloating.

they are even kind enough to ignore the exchange of money between the two men, after all, your dad had bet on jack and lost.

"i can't wait for their wedding."

"hold on, now!"

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

a few years had gone and come around, we were sitting at our favorite spot in town and you looked at me, got down on one knee

you're on Quinn's lap, content and warm. the two of you had gotten up to watch the sunrise, first day of the summer at the lake house.

it's nice to have everyone in one place again, the two of you coming from vancouver, the boys from new jersey.

the past couple of years had been hard; a year or two long distance, until you went to study architecture at UBC after quinn had been drafted.

this year, 24 and 22, you finally get some rest and the promise of settling down more.

quinn's captain, and you have a good job that lets you work remote and do what you love.

and more importantly, the two of you are always together.

"babe?" quinn asks, running a hand down your arms, "c'mon, let's go to the dock?"

you don't protest, just happy to be at your childhood lake house.

he leads you there, like he always does.

"pretty." you stare out at the water, orange and pink sky meeting in the still horizon.

"yeah." quinn gives you a smile, rare for anyone else.

but he has always smiled for you, and you greedily hoard them in your memories.

"got something to show you," he pulls his wallet out, the two pictures in the clear flaps catch your eye.

one is a polaroid of you and your boys. quinn is 15, jack is 14, you're 13 and luke is 11. all of you are lanky and awkward, wrapped around each other and grinning ear to ear.

the other is also a polaroid, taken by ellen a year or two ago, when all of your parents came to visit your Vancouver apartment.

quinn's arm is around your shoulders and you're clinging to his side, one hand curled around his waist and the other on his chest. you're smiling at the camera, and quinn is smiling at you.

"cute," you tell him, but he digs a finger into the little pocket.

"fuck," he swears when whatever he's looking for doesn't come out.

"here, let me," you offer. you retrieve a piece of thick parchment with your smaller hands.

it's a sketch of quinn you did when you were in your early teens.

it's not great, you have to admit. the lines aren't smooth like how you sketch now, but the ink and paper is in pristine condition.

"quinn...you kept this?" you ask softly, oddly emotional.

when you look at him, he has a weird look on his face. he scratches his neck.

you stare at each other for a moment, the familiarity of your love almost stifling in the cool morning air.

and then he drops down on one knee.

you start crying, immediately.

that sets him off, and the two of you are blubbering as he tries to get through the speech he wrote in his notes 7 months ago after he got the ring and you were in the shower.

he tells you he loves you, how he's never going to leave you, that you're going to build a life together, just like how you've done everything together since you were kids.

you believe him, because your quinn is nothing if not earnest and steady.

you let him slip the simple ring onto your finger, and he lifts you up into strong arms to kiss you.

you're so deliriously happy that your teeth clash with his in a smiling kiss.

your families cheers from the porch, and you laugh, watery and heart full.

jack runs up first, swinging you around and clapping his hand down on quinn's shoulder.

Luke kisses your cheek and hugs his older brother, as ellen and your mom hug you together.

jim wraps his arms around you, pressing his lips to your forehead, "thanks for helping me win the bet, chickie." you chuckle, reaching for your dad next.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

take me back to the time when we walked down the aisle, our whole town came and our mamas cried, you said I do and I did too

the wedding takes place a year later, in a small winery near the house, because ellen and your mom refused to let you have the wedding on the dock.

this was your compromise, because it's a small affair.

your dad walks you down the aisle to quinn. you're smiling, like there's a hanger in your mouth because you're just so happy.

he cries when he sees you, and so do the other hughes boys.

you hear your mom and ellen, tears meeting shaky smiles on their faces.

your own college friend, your birdie, fixes your veil and holds your bouquet.

sweet promises are exchanged in your vows, and when you have your first kiss as mr. and mrs. hughes, all of your loved ones cheer.

quinn sweeps you off your feet and bridal carries you to a change room so you can switch into your reception dress.

he sees you later as jack, who volunteered to be the mc, announces you guys as mr. and mrs. hughes.

quinn's eyes are hot and dark as he sees your smooth skin under white lace, and whispers something into the shell of your ear that makes you pink.

you dance together, with his brothers and his dad, with your own too.

but the last dance is saved for the two of you.

"i can't wait to grow old with you, chickie." he whispers romantically.

"you'd make such a cute old man," you tell him, and he rolls his eyes.

you laugh, and so does he.

forever sounds real good to you.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

© sweetteainthesummerx.tumblr. all rights reserved. unauthorized copying, translation, or claiming of my writing or any works as your own is strictly prohibited.

[steampunkedparm]

oona (our kitten) is essentially attached to my hip at this point and. my mother made some candles. so there is one very strong smelling scent that is making me a lil nauseous and headachy and.

you'll never guess what my cat very intensely smells of. who is trying very hard to come sleep with me.

[maraczeks]

friends s3 thread pt 1

[love-belle]

good riddance !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which their post break-up era is them pretending that they weren't each other's everything.

or

for when you're too hurt to regret anything. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // daniel ricciardo x fem!reader

warnings - language

author's note - hello!!! i hope u like this one!!! thank u so much for reading, i love you <3 just a note, that i will probably not be posting next week bc i have exams but i will be active here so ! if u message me, i'll probably reply, i hope so anyways lol <3

≡;- ꒰ °twitter ꒱

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by landonorris, lilymhe, carmenmmundt and 779,617 others

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danielricciardo good riddance.

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username remember when daniel and y/n posted about each other with WHOLESOME captions??????? good times

-> username those were the highlights of my entire week like ://

-> username i miss my mom and dad sm 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

maxverstappen1 nice

*liked by danielricciardo*

username i know max is maaaaaaaaaaad

username the f1 gc is blowing up as we speak rn

-> username real like y/n is like their baby sister 😭😭😭

≡;- ꒰ °text messages ꒱

kelly's bf 👎 - max ; cat stealer ❌ - y/n

cat stealer ❌ : max

kelly's bf 👎 : what

cat stealer ❌ : is kelly with u

kelly's bf 👎 : she's out with p

kelly's bf 👎 : what happened

cat stealer ❌ : just wanted to talk to her

cat stealer ❌ : it's okay, just tell her to give me a call whenever she's back :) tell sweet p i love her and i miss her sm

kelly's bf 👎 : will do

seen 1m ago

kelly's bf 👎 : hey you okay?

kelly's bf 👎 : i saw what daniel posted

kelly's bf 👎 : it's a shit move just saying

kelly's bf 👎 : he's stupid

cat stealer ❌ : yeah idc lol

cat stealer ❌ : "good riddance" ok boy u literally begged me to make it work

cat stealer ❌ : i'm sorry ik he's ur best friend

kelly's bf 👎 : yeah but so are you

cat stealer ❌ : WOAHHH PAUSE

cat stealer ❌ : max being nice for a change?????

cat stealer ❌ : history was made

kelly's bf 👎 : don't make me take it back

kelly's bf 👎 : but yeah

kelly's bf 👎 : don't pay any attention to him, yeah? i'm sure kelly will have a few choice words for him at the next race, along with me. and p probably, she loves her aunt y/n

kelly's bf 👎 : speaking of that, you're coming to the next race right?

cat stealer ❌ : i love u all :// thank u

cat stealer ❌ : and no, i don't think it's a good idea

kelly's bf 👎 : are you sure? you can stay inside the whole time, he won't even see you

cat stealer ❌ : i'll think abt it, im just very overwhelmed rn that's all

kelly's bf 👎 : that's very understandable tbh

cat stealer ❌ : max

kelly's bf 👎 : y/n

cat stealer ❌ : can i ask u something

kelly's bf 👎 : if this is about letting you and kelly give me a makeover, it's no

cat stealer ❌ : we'll convince u someday but that's not what i wanted to ask

kelly's bf 👎 : what is it?

cat stealer ❌ : do u think daniel ever loved me

cat stealer ❌ : like at all???

kelly's bf 👎 : y/n

kelly's bf 👎 : of course he did

kelly's bf 👎 : you were his everything

cat stealer ❌ : then why was it so easy for him to walk out and then say "good riddance"

cat stealer ❌ : he took the easy way out

kelly's bf 👎 : he's a stupid asshole that's all

kelly's bf 👎 : but he truly did love you, he still does. i know i complained a lot, but with the way he spoke of you, like you were truly his everything. it was such a happy site, seeing my two best friends in love

cat stealer ❌ : u called me best friend twice omg

cat stealer ❌ : that's a record

kelly's bf 👎 : shut up

kelly's bf 👎 : my point is

cat stealer ❌ : i need to post something so W

cat stealer ❌ : brb

cat stealer ❌ : kelly's calling me

kelly's bf 👎 : so i was just a placeholder till my girlfriend arrived?

cat stealer ❌ : aw look at u using ur brain

kelly's bf 👎 : this is why daniel broke up with you

cat stealer ❌ : TOO SOON

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by carmenmmundt, lilymhe, charles_leclerc and 736,826 others

yourusername me looking for my last fuck to give

7,927 comments

username SLAYED

username ATE SO HARD OMG

username MOTHER

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kellypiquet pretty girl 🤍

*liked by yourusername*

username IM IN LOVE WOAHHHH

username she gagged him y'all

username I LOVE HER SM

username gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf

maxverstappen1 👍

-> yourusername 👎

-> maxverstappen1 okay fuck you i was trying to be nice

username HER

username iconic

username exes beefing omg 💀💀💀

lilymhe SLAYED

*liked by yourusername*

lilymhe IN LOVE

*liked by yourusername*

lilymhe on my knees pls marry me

-> yourusername let's go bb i'll get u a ring

-> alex_albon oh

-> lilymhe babe LOOK AWAY

username two artworks in one frame

-> yourusername pls i love u 😭😭😭

username MOTHER IS MOTHERING

username i know he's shaking rn

username no bc the way my jaw dropped and the way i gasped why are u so pretty beautiful gorgeous angelic ethereal breathtaking hot fine amazing

username I WENT TO HEAVEN OMG

username just one chance please

charles_leclerc as lando taught me "slayed the house down 🔥🔥🔥"

-> yourusername PLEASE IM HONOURED

username i adore her friendship with the grid 🫶🏼

username ahsuidsjgsjsjsksisjajsdh

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly, landonorris and 796,415 others

danielricciardo ignorance doesn't suit you

comments are disabled for this post

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by francisca.cgomes, maxverstappen1, carlossainz55 and 801,728 others

yourusername honey everything suits me ❤️

tagged danielricciardo

comments are disabled for this post

[ja3yun]

I'm a Virgin, Not a Murderer | CH.2: Saturn and Uranus

virgin!heeseung x sex worker!reader warnings: smut (mdni), oral (m.rec), slight throat fucking, whiney heeseung, strip club and dances, mentions of alcohol and anxiety, anything else lmk! wc: 18.8k ch.2 synopsis: with you and heeseung fleeing the scene of your accidental crime, you weave through the trials of finding safety and making some cash, leading you straight to saturn strip club. a/n: hi! thank you so so much for the love and support on the first chapter <3 i'm sorry if it seems slow but it picks up the pace in the following chapters so please stick with it! i love this series sm and i am so appreciative of each and every one of you! as always, reblogs, likes, comments, and feedback are all welcome

chapter 1 | masterlist | chapter 3

Your precious car begins to slow down despite your foot firmly pressed on the pedal, causing you to glance at the dashboard quizzically. The needle on the fuel gauge hovers perilously close to empty, a sight that sends a jolt of anxiety through you. 

There’s no way it has already run out of petrol, you only filled it up two days ago; then again, you have been driving for the better part of six hours down winding roads. You start to wonder if perhaps you were overly optimistic about that refuelling. There also might be a small, tiny chance that you only filled it up halfway because you ran out of money for an entire tank.

As these thoughts race through your mind, the car gives a tired shudder. The engine's steady hum falters, replaced by a series of splutters. The tail of your vehicle emits a loud, desperate noise, gasping for something to quench its thirst. You turn just in time to see a thin, ominous layer of black smoke drifting from the exhaust pipe.

Gripping the steering wheel tighter, your knuckles turn white as you scan the deserted road ahead for any sign of a petrol station. The vast, empty stretch of asphalt seems to mock your predicament. Panic sets in as you realise the gravity of the situation. The distant horizon offers no solace, just an unending ribbon of road under the setting sun.

“Fuck!” you exclaim, slamming your palm harshly on the steering wheel as the car comes to a halt.

Heeseung twists his head to look at your disgruntled expression before noticing the puff of smoke in his peripheral vision, his eyes widening in fear. The only time he had seen a car fog up like this was when Jongseong decided to do skids in the Tesco car park at 3am after too many Red Bulls and exam stress. The next day, his friend had to replace every tyre and pay a fine after being caught on CCTV.

This consequence might be drastically worse.

“We could phone AA. They can pick us up or fill the tank,” he suggests, as if he can magically conjure a phone booth in front of you.

Huffing, you suppress the silent rage coursing through you due to the recent life events. You sit back, gripping the wheel tightly. “Heeseung,” you begin, keeping your voice slow and steady, “you do realise there is a dead body in the hotel room that has probably been found by now, and they will be looking for us!”

You don’t mean to get agitated with the timid boy, but the gravity of the situation is pushing you to the edge. You don’t even want to think about the scene back at the hotel or who the poor person that found your attacker would be. If it was Kat at reception, she definitely would have already called the police, given a character description, and probably found a way to help them locate your National Insurance number. She always did hate your guts, and it would be a joyous occasion for her to watch your demise unfold with her playing a key part in it.

You grab a bobble from the glove compartment and pull your hair back into a ponytail, closing your eyes briefly as you try to devise a plan. The tension in the car is palpable, a mix of fear and frustration hanging in the air. "I'll walk and see if there's a petrol station nearby," you say, flicking two framing pieces of hair out and holding your hands out to Heeseung. "Can I get some of the money you brought?"

Heeseung looks at you with arched brows. "You don’t have any?" he asks incredulously. It’s not like he expected you to be a billionaire, but with thousands of horny men and a girl as gorgeous as you, he figured you had more than enough cash.

If only he knew you were eating out-of-date beans two weeks ago and that your water was shut off because you couldn’t pay the bill. The reality of your life is far removed from the glamorous facade you sometimes project.

"I only carry £20 with me in case a client tries to rob me. I can't ever be too careful," you explain, understanding the irony in your attempt at safety when you were two seconds away from meeting the man in white at the pearly gates not too long ago.

Heeseung doesn’t fully grasp your logic, but he also isn’t a sex worker, so he trusts your judgement. "Okay, let me grab my..." he begins to say, nodding in agreement and patting his chest in search of his jacket pocket. His eyes bulge, and his heart sinks like a stone in water.

Frantically, he searches his body, as if this would magically make his brown jacket appear. Sweat from his terror seeps from his pores as he chants a few tiny 'fucks', looking around your car with panicked eyes. His breaths become shallow, and you can see the fear creeping into his features.

"What’s wrong?" you ask calmly, not matching his urgent state. Your voice is steady, a stark contrast to the chaos bubbling beneath the surface.

He turns to you slowly, swallowing thickly. He doesn’t know how to tell you the unfortunate information he has just realised, so he stays silent for a moment, leaving you to wonder in the tension-filled car.

“What is it? Just tell me.”

"I...I left my jacket in the hotel room."

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Heeseung!" you shout, throwing your hands up in the air to punctuate your disappointment in his forgetfulness. You can’t believe how stupid he is considering you told him to grab his things. When you said that, you meant everything.

Heeseung shoulders the blame but gets defensive at your attitude towards his blunder. "I’m sorry! It’s not every day I kill a man and have to flee with a prostitute, okay? I wasn’t thinking," he exclaims, his voice cracking with stress. He can feel the weight of the situation pressing down on him, making his hands tremble slightly.

"Oh, you think I go around whacking my clients on the regular?" you argue back, eyes burning with a dangerous fury. The absurdity of the situation, coupled with your rising panic, makes your temper flare. 

"Well-" he starts but cuts himself off because he doesn’t know how to argue with you. His eyes drop, and he lets out a deep sigh, running his hands through his hair in frustration.“My ID is in the pocket, Y/N. They’ll find me for sure…”

Looking at him, you suddenly wince in sympathy. If the cameras and Kat didn’t rat him out to the authorities, his ID certainly would. The sheer panic on his face is a reminder of how dire your situation truly is. 

You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. "We need a plan," you say, your voice steadier now. “We need to walk, it's nearly 9pm and we can’t be out here like sitting ducks.”

“We’ll be walking all night, Y/N. I can’t do this, I can’t…I have an exam on Monday,” he whines, chest heaving up and down as he puts himself in a state of panic by thinking about the final assignments of his academic career - much to your dismay. His eyes dart around frantically as if looking for an escape route that isn’t there.

Out of all the things for him to worry about, his exam should not be taking priority. “Heeseung, that is the least of your concern. We killed a man, me and you - we can’t go back. What part of that do you not fucking understand? Do you seriously think I would be sitting in a dead car with you in the middle of fuck knows where if I could just go back to my flat and move on with my life?”

Your anger is flaring through your nostrils, each breath you take feeling like it’s stoking a fire inside you. The reality of the consequences to your predicament crashes over you in waves.

Heeseung’s face pales, and you can see him physically shrink back, his shoulders hunching as he tries to make himself smaller. He looks at you with wide, scared eyes, clearly cowed by your outburst. “I’m sorry,” he mutters, almost inaudibly, his voice cracking under the weight of his fear and guilt.

You take a moment to look at him and your heart breaks. He never asked for this, the same as you didn’t, so you shouldn’t be yelling at him as if this is all his fault, or that his feelings and worries are any less valid than your own, even if they are misplaced. He came to you looking to lose his virginity, not gain trauma and a criminal record - and that’s exactly what he got all because he saved you.

Closing your eyes, you rub your temples, trying to gather your thoughts. The night is closing in around you, the impending darkness feeling suffocating. The horizon is a blur of shadows, with the last traces of daylight fading into an oppressive twilight. You can’t afford to waste time arguing. You need to move, and you need to move now.

Pondering for a while, you realise your current state of dress isn’t helping the situation. Sitting in nothing but a robe with no bra and only lace panties underneath isn’t practical for a night trek, let alone safe. The robe, which barely provides any warmth or coverage, feels utterly inadequate against the encroaching chill. You glance at Heeseung, who’s still looking down, avoiding your gaze, biting the skin from his lip in anxiety.

“Heeseung,” you say more gently, trying to keep the irritation out of your voice. “Can I borrow your shirt?”

He looks up, confusion clouding his eyes for a moment before he registers your request. “Yeah, sure, anything,” he says, his voice tinged with desperation and a need to atone for his earlier mistake. He hurriedly rids himself of his plaid shirt, almost fumbling in his haste, and hands it over to you. His movements are frantic, a physical manifestation of his internal turmoil.

Even the way he says "anything" makes the guilt suppress the anger towards him. The boy is so sweet and gentle, you never knew someone like him could ever exist, not in this grotty city anyway. 

You take your robe off, revealing your erect nipples to him once again, this time in a much less sexually charged atmosphere. The night air feels like icy fingers brushing against your skin, making you shiver involuntarily. With the sun disappearing to let the moon say hello, you rush to get the shirt on, shielding yourself from the settling cold. The plaid shirt, still warm from Heeseung's body heat, provides a semblance of comfort and much needed warmth amidst the chaos.

As you’re getting dressed in Heeseung’s shirt, he tries his best not to look at you and give you even a shred of privacy. He might have seen them earlier but that does not mean you consent to him catching a swatch right now. His gaze remains fixed on the ceiling of the car, his hands clenching and unclenching as he battles with his own thoughts.

But god, he can imagine them now, how perfect and delicious they looked, like something out of his wildest fantasies, the feeling of them cupped in his hands and how squishy they felt. Despite his efforts to maintain some decorum, the images linger in his mind, a thought he desperately tries to push aside. He’s biting the inside of his cheek and shuffling in his seat to adjust the twitch in his balls, he tries to focus on anything else, the guilt gnawing at him.

Once dressed, you notice how Heeseung’s shirt, though oversized, fits snugly enough to offer some semblance of modesty. The fabric, soft and slightly worn, smells faintly of him - a mix of soap and something uniquely his. 

“Heeseung, we need to keep moving,” you say, your voice firm but gentle. He nods, swallowing hard but still avoiding your gaze. You can see him fidgeting in his seat, his hand tugging at the zipper of his jeans, seeking relief from the friction.

Stifling a laugh, grateful for the distraction, you snap your fingers playfully. “I know you have a bad case of blue balls, but we need to focus.”

Heeseung’s face turns a vivid shade of red as his eyes widen in shock, his mouth opening and closing without a sound. He can’t believe you noticed him fiddling with his trousers to alleviate the discomfort. Yet, just like you, he welcomes the distraction, though he would have preferred it to come from something less embarrassing.

“We need to ditch this car and find a motel or something,” you suggest determinedly, scanning the deserted road for any signs of life or guidance but there’s nothing but darkness.

You swing open the driver’s door and step onto the slightly damp grass, cringing internally at the cold, wet sensation between your bare toes as you circle around to the boot to rummage through your belongings. You always keep a bag of spare work clothes and some makeup in there for emergencies. In hindsight, you really should have packed proper clothes and not a tiny set of lingerie, but for now, Heeseung’s shirt paired with your six-inch heels will have to do.

As you slam the boot shut, you take a moment to look at your car, preparing yourself to say goodbye. This trusty vehicle has taken you across the country, creating memories filled with both joy and sorrow, all of which have shaped who you are today. This is just another memory to add to the collection, no matter how unpleasant.

You glance at your gleaming custom registration plate, panic rising within you. It’s a beacon, a glaring signal that could lead anyone straight to you. If they’re searching for you, it won’t take them long to find you with a plate like that. Stroking the hood of the car, you pout. “I’m so sorry for this, baby,” you whisper lovingly to the motor before bringing your stiletto down with a harsh crash against the metal. The pain shoots up your leg, but it’s the crack in your heart that hurts the most. You never imagined you’d have to hurt your precious car, let alone abandon it.

Heeseung hears the commotion and scrambles out, his eyes wide with alarm. He sees you attacking the back of the car, unaware of your intentions. Your face is flushed with exertion as you put all your might into battering the plate off its screws. Strands of hair fall out of your ponytail, which you angrily huff away. Despite himself, Heeseung finds this display of dominance strangely attractive. The way you assert control over the metal makes him wonder how you would have treated him if things had gone to plan.

The sight of your heels jamming into the rear only fuels his thoughts further. His mind races with images of you dominating a man, your heel tearing into his flesh like extinguishing a cigarette. The picture causes an ache in Heeseung’s groyne, making him shuffle uncomfortably. This feeling is something he’ll have to explore; perhaps once he gets past his virginity, he can figure out his kinks.

If he ever does lose it, that is.

“W-what are you doing?” he asks shyly, scared to break your concentration.

Huffing, you look up at him, seeing the bewilderment in his eyes. You can’t blame him, you must look deranged like a bull charging at a red flag. “I’m breaking these off so it buys us some time, just in case a cop car comes by,” you explain, wiping sweat from your brow. If you were cold before, you certainly aren’t now.

He watches you soothe your aching leg, his concern genuine and heartfelt. “You need to be careful, Y/N. You could hurt your ankle,” he states, his voice filled with worry.

You’re about to snap at him, but his soft expression and worried eyes make you relent. Taking a deep breath, you calm yourself before replying. “Can you get the one at the front, please?” Your voice is steady, though the aggression of your kick shows you’re not in the mood for further discussion. Heeseung nods and heads to the front of the car, obediently following your instructions.

Heeseung, slightly shaky but determined, crouches down to work on the front plate. You watch him, grateful for his cooperation despite the circumstances. The dim light from the casting moon creates long shadows, and the quiet night amplifies every sound: the rustle of leaves, the distant call of an owl, the metallic clinks as Heeseung fumbles with the screws. The whole scene feels surreal, as if you're in a suspenseful film.

Returning to the back of the car, you take a deep breath and assess the damage. The number plate is now hanging by one screw, bent and battered but still attached. You give it another firm kick, wincing as the stiletto heel digs into the metal. With a final tug, the plate comes off, and you toss it into the nearby bushes, hoping it will be concealed well enough to buy you some time.

“Heeseung, how’s it going up there?” you call out, trying to mask the urgency in your voice.

“Almost done,” he replies, his voice strained. A few moments later, he triumphantly holds up the front plate, looking to you for approval. You nod, giving him a small, encouraging smile. He seems so happy, like he just won a month of free rental at BlockBuster. 

This is the first time you’ve seen him smile and it melts your heart, his toothy grin and smile lines accentuating the sun that seems to radiate from his face. He probably smiled like that all the time before all of this, you think to yourself with a pang of remorse.

Following your lead, he tosses it into the high bushes, listening to the rustling leaves as the metal cascades down the intertwined branches. He wipes the fallen paint and dust from his hands on his dark jeans and moves to the back of the car to reach you, his happiness dims a little as he sees you hobble slightly.

Before you can place the coveted bag on your shoulder, Heeseung clasps his big hand around the strap and steals it from you, wrapping it around his neck and shoulder so it can swing idly under his arm. You don’t get to protest at his snatching because he’s already walking forward, stirring up his energy for the long walk ahead.

_____

You haven’t seen a single inch of light or hope in the past two hours of walking along the countryside. The skies, once adorned with a pale twilight, have now succumbed to the inky darkness of night. The narrow dirt path stretches endlessly before you, flanked by skeletal trees and picked-apart bushes. The cold, relentless and unforgiving, seeps into your bones, making each step more laborious than the last. The only sound accompanying your journey is the rhythmic crunch of gravel underfoot and the occasional rustle of unseen creatures.

Your soles are burning, a searing pain that intensifies with each agonising step. The God-forsaken heels feel like instruments of torture, biting into your feet and reducing your stride to a painful shuffle. Every uneven stone and hidden root sends jolts of agony through your body, making you wince involuntarily. The cold, having long breached the feeble barriers of Heeseung’s shirt, wraps around you like a cruel, invisible shroud.

Hunger gnaws at your insides, a relentless beast that roars louder with each passing minute. Your stomach grumbles an angry, persistent sound that echoes through the stillness. You're convinced Heeseung can hear it.

And he does. 

Heeseung, walking beside you, casts worried glances in your direction. The concern in his eyes is unmistakable, a silent testament to his awareness of your suffering. He can see the pain etched across your face, the way your lips are pressed into a thin line of determination despite the evident exhaustion.

His gaze drops to your feet, noticing how you wince with every step. Your once resolute stride is now reduced to a limping hobble, the back of your shoes digging mercilessly into your sore, blistered skin. Your feet, barely able to withstand the pressure, threaten to give out beneath you. The muscles in your legs tremble with fatigue, each step a monumental effort that pushes you closer to your breaking point.

Heeseung's concern manifests in his actions; he slows his pace to match your faltering steps, offering a steadying hand when you stumble over an unseen obstacle. His presence is a small comfort, a reminder that you are not alone in this desolate landscape. His words, though few, are gentle and encouraging, urging you to hold on just a little longer.

Hating the sight of you in pain, Heeseung places a timid hand on your shoulder, causing you to pause in your steps. “Maybe you should take those off?” he suggests, eyes pointed down to your bruised feet.

“And walk along the British countryside that has needles and shit lying around?” you ask rhetorically, a bite in your voice due to the irritation you’re being overstimulated by, “Unless you want to swap, these heels are staying on.”

Despite only knowing you a few hours, he has grasped that you are a stubborn and independent woman who seldom takes help from those around her. You can hold your own against the world, not a single crutch to lean on; when Heeseung had offered you a piggyback a few miles back, you snapped at him, telling him that as much as you appreciate the gesture, you are not a child in need of comfort.

He never offered again.

That’s why even as he suggests a solution to your problem, he does it with a shaky voice. He has always been scared of women in general, so having to navigate around an angry and short-tempered one who is also hungry is something he is having a problem with.

“Look, I’m fine, Heeseung. Really, just st-”

Your sentence is interrupted by the distant sound of an engine. Both your and Heeseung’s eyes expand at the beautiful noise, each of you having similar thoughts that this could be your get out of jail free card. The sound grows louder, cutting through the oppressive silence of the night like a beacon of hope. Your heart leaps, adrenaline surging through your veins as the possibility of escape becomes tantalisingly real.

Quickly thinking, you unbutton the shirt that covers your most valuable assets in a situation like this and scoop your tits up slightly, to give you a more voluptuous look. You whip the bobble out from your hair and ruffle it to a bouncy state. The cold air hits your exposed skin, sending a shiver down your spine, but you ignore the discomfort, focusing instead on the potential saviour approaching.

Heeseung watches you, his eyes wide with a mixture of astonishment and anxiety. His mouth opens as if to protest, but no words come out. He’s torn between his instinct to protect and his hope that your plan might actually work. But you’re putting yourself in more danger by trying to lure the driver in with your body, and he can’t face whacking another person to ensure your safety.

“Y/N, what are you doing? People don’t do this anymore, not since the 70s,” he argues softly, trying to stand in your way as the headlights illuminate the dark road you walk on.

Pushing him to the side, you shake your head, plastering on a smile and sticking your thumb out. “Desperate times call for desperate measures, Heeseung. We need a lift and I’m making sure we get it,” you retort.

Granted, you have never hitchhiked in your life and the only reason you have an inch of knowledge on how to do this is through movies, some of which end up as well as Heeseung is imagining, but there are two of you and if today has taught you anything, you make a great team when it comes to defending yourself.

The vehicle comes into view, an old pickup truck, its paint chipped and weathered. It slows as it approaches, and for a brief moment, you hold your breath, praying that the driver will stop. With one final push attempt, you jump slightly, flailing your arms around as your bare breasts bounce freely under the shirt. If it doesn’t catch the driver's attention, it quickly catches Heeseung’s, who diverts his eyes up to the starry sky.

Luckily, your tits seem to work and the car pulls up beside you both, the engine purring softly and the exhaust pipe offering you a tiny blanket of warmth. The window rolls down to reveal a man, roughly your age or possibly younger, licking his lips and eyeing you up and down.

“Need a lift?” he asks casually, not bothering to even look at your face.

And Heeseung said it wouldn’t work.

“Yes, please!” you giggle, shifting into one of your many work personas, hiding the irritation and pain that you are in. 

Stepping forward, Heeseung attempts to place a hand on your back to urge you to reconsider, perhaps ask the boy for directions and keep trudging forward on your own, but before he can, you are already clambering into the passenger seat, sinking into the comfort and taking the weight of your distressed feet.

Following your lead, even if it’s apprehensively, Heeseung climbs into the back, setting your bag on one of the seats as though it were a passenger itself. Although alarm bells are ringing in his mind, he appreciates the instant envelopment of contentment as his legs relax, the tingles from hours of walking and anxiety slowly leaving his limbs.

The warmth of the truck's interior is a stark contrast to the cold night outside, and you let out a sigh of relief as the heater's warm air washes over you. The driver puts the truck in gear and pulls back onto the road, the engine's hum vibrating around you as you slip into a relaxed state. 

The driver glances at Heeseung in the rearview mirror, a curious look in his eyes. “Where are you two headed?” he asks.

“Is there a motel nearby?” Heeseung inquires, buckling his seatbelt with a mix of hope and caution.

Nodding, the man smiles. “There is one about 30 minutes away, just beside the memorial hall.”

The confirmation of a place to rest being within reaching distance makes Heeseung’s heart patter with relief. As you settle into your seat, you can’t help but notice the driver’s striking appearance. He is incredibly handsome, with jet-black hair that catches the faint glow of the dashboard lights, thick, dark eyebrows that frame his intense eyes, and a few beauty freckles scattered across his face that add to his rugged charm. His strong but gentle manner is magnetic, and you find yourself drawn to his presence.

You didn’t know people so gorgeous existed in this country, having thought Heeseung might have been the only exception. Yet, here you are, in a four-wheeler with probably two of the fittest men you’ve ever seen. You glance back at Heeseung, his sharp features softened by the warm glow of the truck’s interior lights. Despite the exhaustion etched on his face, there’s a calmness in his expression that wasn’t there before, a quiet acceptance of the situation.

The driver’s gaze flickers to you occasionally, a hint of curiosity mixed with lust. “You don’t look like you belong here, baby girl,” he says, his voice low and smooth, carrying an undercurrent of intrigue.

Twirling your hair with your pointer finger, you bat your eyelashes and smile sheepishly, becoming the woman most men want you to be, and for him, you just might submit to the role. “Is it that obvious?” you say, giggling softly and biting your lip seductively. “I could say the same to you…” Trailing off, you subtly ask for his name, your voice dripping with playful curiosity.

“Sunghoon,” he replies, his name rolling off his tongue with a confident ease. He extends a hand, which you happily take, intending to shake it, but instead, he lifts the back of your hand to his mouth and kisses your knuckles. The unexpected gesture sends a shiver through you, making butterflies erupt in your stomach.

The warmth of his touch lingers long after he releases your hand. Sunghoon’s eyes hold yours for a moment longer, a silent exchange of mutual attraction that leaves you feeling both exhilarated and slightly off-balance.

“I’m Y/N, and this is Heeseung,” you offer your names casually, still swimming in his allure. You had set off with the intention that he would fall for you and give you the lift, but now that you’re here, you feel like a bunny trapped by the bear.

Heeseung shifts slightly in the back seat, his eyes flicking between you and Sunghoon. The moment is not lost on him, but he says nothing, simply watching with a guarded expression. He isn’t jealous of your interaction with Sunghoon per se; it’s more that he is envious of how easily the driver has put you under a spell. The boy’s charm even captivates him a little bit, watching as Sunghoon’s eyes return to the road with not an ounce of trepidation or fear of you. 

That is who he wants to be, everything that Sunghoon is. He probably has girlfriends and lovers coming out of his ears, all probably just as equally as beautiful as you. It makes Heeseung recoil a little in the seat because the only reason he has been able to talk to you so freely is because of your trauma-bonding experience and the fact he has been stuck with you in the same car for hours.

You and Sunghoon continue to converse for the whole journey, flirting so blatantly that Heeseung starts taking mental notes on how to talk to women just to pass the time; he wishes he had brought his notebook with him. Sunghoon’s easy laughter and smooth compliments weave a web of enchantment, and you find yourself responding with a level of flirtation that surprises even you.

In the distance, you start to see lights shining and you instinctively lean forward, your body craving the need of a grungy motel and some much-needed rest, even if it is only for a few hours. The neon sign flickers invitingly, casting a welcoming glow over the worn facade of the building. 

Sunghoon notices your movement and smiles. “We’re almost there,” he says, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves.

The truck slows as it approaches the motel, and Sunghoon skillfully navigates into the parking lot. He parks and turns to you with a warm, lingering gaze. “Here we are. I hope this place meets your needs.” His tone is sultry, his eyes hooded as they drop to your cleavage.

You lean over, placing a hand on his chest, your fingers crawling their way along his left pec as you move in closer. Your lips are now so close to his that you can feel his warm breath fanning over your face. “Thank you, Sunghoon. You’re the best,” you murmur, your voice low and seductive. You close the distance and press your lips to his and he eagerly responds, his large hand cupping your face and pulling you closer to deepen the kiss.

Sunghoon's tongue swiftly makes its way to play with yours, licking into your mouth with measured ease. The kiss is hot and intense, and if you weren’t on the run for murder and a certain virgin wasn’t in the backseat, you might have taken things further right there in the truck.

But that wasn’t your plan. You had something else in mind.

Heeseung watches with his jaw slack and mouth open. He knows how good your lips feel and how skilful you are with your tongue, having experienced it firsthand. His eyes widen with a mix of awe and something else - perhaps envy or longing - as he observes the passionate exchange between you and Sunghoon.

After what feels like both an eternity and a heartbeat, you pull back, your lips tingling from the kiss. “We should get inside, get some rest,” you whisper, your voice breathy. Sunghoon nods, his eyes still locked on yours. “Thanks for everything, Hoonie,” you say, the nickname rolling off your tongue and making Sunghoon close his eyes in want.

“If I didn’t have to keep driving, I would be coming with you, fucking you so good,” he admits, his voice low and husky. The rawness of his words shocks Heeseung, but you seem unfazed by the idea; rather, you look a little disappointed.

Despite your feelings, you smile and place one more kiss on his lips before waving him goodbye in some sort of hurry. You step out of the car and slam the door behind you with ease. The sound and vibration jolt Heeseung out of his horny trance before he quickly thanks Sunghoon, picking up your bag and following suit, albeit a lot more clumsily than you.

You send him off one final time as his truck pulls out of the motel parking lot. You grin widely and hide the shooting pain that has found its way back to the sole of your feet. God, you cannot wait to get into a room and take the heels of death off. 

Turning to Heeseung, you see him looking at the poster underneath the illuminated ‘open’ sign. His face is contorted in a mix of horror and dread, his tongue coming out of his mouth to wet his parched lips as he begins to overheat with worry. “What is it?” you ask, puzzled.

“The motel,” he starts, pointing to the board before him, “It’s £40 a night and we only have £20.”

Smirking, you look up at him innocently before rustling something in your hand, bringing it up to his face as a badge of honour. “No, we don’t.”

Heeseung’s eyes leave the board to meet yours but are quickly pulled astray by the notes that sit snugly between two of your fingers. He has to blink a few times before he truly accepts what he is seeing - at least £80 in tens and twenties invades his vision. “When did you…” he trails off, examining the money closely.

“Sunghoon owed me for the kiss,” you shrug, placing the money in your breast pocket while making your way to the entrance of the motel.

Stuttering, Heeseung carefully grabs your arm and pulls you back before you can enter the building. “Y/N, you stole from him, that’s not okay. He helped us out and you robbed him.” His voice is stern but lacks the confidence to back it up, so it comes across as a little pathetic. Although his conviction is feeble, his morals have always taken precedence over anything else, even in moments like this, he cannot sit by and watch you do this so casually.

“Heeseung,” you shove his hand off your arm, “It’s not like I wanted to steal it, okay? But we are desperate and need it way more than he does. We can’t be law-abiding citizens when we literally murdered a man,” you whisper, eyes pleading with him to see your side of the tracks.

And he does somewhat; he agrees that you guys are in a tough situation and resources won’t come easily to you, but he also thinks there have to be better ways to go about this. Relenting, Heeseung nods. “Okay, this one is fine because we need it, but we have to remember that just because that happened in the hotel room doesn’t mean we need to start acting like we’re criminals. We should still keep our values, Y/N.”

You see the worry etched on his face, his eyes pleading for you to agree. “I know, Heeseung. I promise I’ll try to find better ways,” you say, your voice softer, trying to convey your understanding. 

Heeseung exhales deeply, tension easing slightly from his shoulders. “Alright, let’s just get inside and get a room. We can figure things out tomorrow.”

Stepping into the motel foyer instantly blasts you with warmth and the smell of mould, the interior is shabby and the once-white walls are stained yellow with what you can only presume is cigarette smoke. The carpet is damp and you can hear it squelch underneath your heel, the light above the reception desk flickers. Despite all this, it feels like you’re at the Ritz right now due to the exhaustion flowing through your body.

The reception desk is manned by an older man reading the paper, his hair white thinning atop his scalp, his beard in desperate need of a wash, and the remnants of his midnight snack splattered on his light blue shirt. 

He doesn’t notice you at first, his nose too far pressed into yesterday’s edition of the Daily Mail to pay attention. Gingerly, you knock on the desk in an attempt to draw his focus to you and Heeseung, but to no avail. Too tired to start a fight about respect, you decide to speak politely.

“Um, can we have a room, please?” you ask, pushing down the disgust you feel towards the man.

Grunting, he reaches for a key with a brown, leather tag on it before throwing it to Heeseung, who scrambles to catch it. The key jumps from one hand to another as though it was hot as lava, eliciting a panicked state within him.

The man points down a dark hallway. “Condoms are in the vending machine at the end. Use one or I’ll charge you for the sheets,” his hoarse voice instructs, clearly assuming you are both there for something other than sleep. To be fair, it is almost 1am, you’re dressed provocatively, and Heeseung is carrying a tiny travel bag. Although you hate the assumption because it is literally none of his business, you bite your tongue and go with it.

Snapping his fingers, he holds his hand out, eyes glued to an article about how the internet is the first step to alien abduction. Heeseung looks at the man with cruel intent, wishing he were stronger and more confident to cuss the receptionist out for treating you with zero regard.

You throw the two £20 notes at him with the same lack of enthusiasm he gave you and walk towards the room that you know is ridiculously overpriced for what you’ll be given.

And unfortunately for you, it is.

As you open the door and switch on the light, your eyes come across a room so bad that you wouldn’t even let your worst enemy spend a night there. Stains cover the walls, a mixture of blood and piss, though you aren’t quite sure which is which. The ceiling light is half hanging down and flickering rapidly, making it hard for your eyes to focus. The bed sheets are an ugly geometric pattern, clearly chosen to hide whatever atrocities have been conceived within these four walls.

A sour, musty smell permeates the air, a blend of mildew and neglect. The carpet looks damp, suggesting that it’s soaked up more than just water over the years. You gingerly make your way to the bed, pulling back the covers to reveal dingy, threadbare sheets that have seen far better days.

Heeseung stands awkwardly in the doorway, looking around the room with wide eyes. “This place is... something else,” he mutters, the understatement of the century.

“Yeah,” you agree, trying to keep your voice light despite the overwhelming urge to retch. “But at least we have a roof over our heads for the night.”

Heeseung nods, though his expression remains dubious. He drops the bag near the foot of the bed and wanders around the room, looking for any cameras of rats hiding in plain sight. “We’ll make do,” he says, more to reassure himself than you. He has been in far too many dodgy hotels in the last 24 hours.

You sit on the end of the bed, groaning as you take off your heels, your toes happily wiggling with freedom as they thump in agonising pain. Now that you have a moment to relax, your feet are developijg their own heartbeat, banging against your nerves as they scream in pain. 

Heeseung notices the blisters, some just forming and some already burst. There are dark purple bruises on the base of your foot which has now turned bright crimson. He knew the heels were damaging your feet but he never expected it to look like a massacre - it looks like your feet have been put in a shredder during a workplace accident and he’s ready to call on your behalf for some compensation.

“Are you okay?” he asks, knowing the answer already.

“I’m okay, I just need to let them breathe for a minute,” you reply, massaging your feet before they begin to swell any further.

Finding the bathroom, he rummages around for something while you ease your pain. You accidentally run your thumbs too harshly over one of the forming blisters and yelp out, tears pricking your eyes. 

Heeseung comes out from the bathroom, sees a tear slip past your cheek, and instantly shifts into caring mode. He kneels before you, taking the foot that you are grasping and gently lifting it up, pressing a cold compress to your wounds. While he was in the bathroom, he found a face cloth and dampened it, hoping the cooling sensation will somehow ease the pain you’re feeling.

He washes your feet with so much care that it makes your heart do a front flip, the feeling of someone looking after you is almost so foreign that your body doesn’t know how to take it. You could have guessed Heeseung was the caring type, what with how he offered to carry you until you found a place to rest or how he took your bag from your grasp so you had one less thing to worry about. He was so gentle that you mourn all the women who missed out on him because he was too shy.

After a few minutes of silence, Heeseung speaks up. “It’s impressive,” he states simply, keeping his eyes and hands on the task of easing your pain.

Tilting your head, you look at him quizically, “What is?”

“Being able to walk in heels. Particularly ones like those.” His head points to the devil shoes beside him, shuddering at even the thought of you having to put them back on at some point.

“I think you would look good in them, or maybe a pair of Mary Janes is more your style?” you laugh, albeit followed by a suppressed wince as he tries to press out a knot in the arch of your sole.

Heeseung cocks an eyebrow and scoffs. “You might as well give me a pair of stilts, I’d do a better job with them.”

The casual conversation is desperately needed, the tension in your bones slowly fading as you relax. There hasn’t been time to breathe or process anything that has happened, or even share a normal conversation with Heeseung, your minds too busy focusing on getting away with murder, so you welcome the moment to breathe.

Your feet are beginning to feel better, his magical touch is bringing the nerves in your feet back to a normal state. “You’re good at this,” you say fondly, admiring his work.

“One of my friends is a football player, he asks me to do this all the time for him,” he says, sharing a piece of his life with you.

“Was that the one on the phone when you called me?” 

“No, that was Jongseong. He would rather play guitar than play football,” he smiles, thinking of his friend. But that gleeful smile quickly fades into a sorrowful one as he remembers there is a high possibility that he will never see his best friend again.

The boy he has grown up with, the one he used to play basketball with at the park just by the rundown council estate, the scheme he used to call home. He won’t ever get to taste his cooking again or wear matching pyjamas on sleepover nights that they host because ‘it looks so much fun when girls do it’, and he certainly won’t get to hug him again when he needs someone to lean on; the boy is his saving grace and he can’t even speak to him about all of this. 

Heeseung’s breath shakes as he thinks about the implications of his actions. What if Jongseong sees him differently after all of this? Will he believe that it was all in self-defence? Surely after knowing one another for nearly 20 years would warrant some understanding or rationalising.

Quickly, Heeseung clears his throat and shakes his head, blinking back his tears as he stands up and avoids your eyes. You’re confused for a moment but then you observe the upset features and understand. You don’t have friends or family so talking about them would have little to no effect on you or your mind, but Heeseung must have had a bustling friend group and a supportive family, talking about Jongseong must have triggered something inside him, an awakening to the situation that you both find yourselves in.

Reaching out, you try to take his hand but he moves away before you can offer him any solace, heading towards the bathroom. “I’m…going to shower,” he informs you, already making his way to the mould and limescale-filled bathroom.

Unfortunately, the silence he has left in his wake now allows you to dwell in your own dark thoughts. Rather than what Heeseung is feeling regarding friends and family, you’re having to process the fact that while he will have people searching for him, clearing his name because he is ‘too sweet’ and ‘gentle’ to do such a thing, no one will bat an eyelid at you or your character.

You’re a sex worker with no real goals or aspirations, just trying your hardest to get by. No family because they’re either dead or won’t speak to you, the only friends you have are those in the brothel but they quietly distanced themselves once you left, envious of the independent life you chose while they work for half their earnings and have no such thing as flexibility to pick and choose.

When the news eventually breaks out, what will they say? ‘Prostitute Turned a Good Boy Bad in Sexual Murder Fantasy’? You’ll be pinned for all the blame but not for the right reason. Heeseung protected you by murdering that man, he has run away for you so you don’t get caught and charged. He could have gotten away with this, pleaded self-defence just like he said yet you’re the one that forced him to run with you for your selfish reasons.

This is all your fault.

As the weight of your situation crashes down on you, a tear escapes your glossy eyes. You catch it quickly, composing yourself before Heeseung returns. You are determined not to show your weak side too much in front of him; you have to be strong for both of you. God knows his kind and wholesome nature isn’t up for carrying the burdens that this journey will entail.

Hearing the water turn off, you quickly wipe your eyes and sit up straighter, putting on a brave face. It’s difficult to be tough in these situations but for your sanity and hit, you will have to.

Emerging from the shower, Heeseung is draped in a low-hanging towel, his toned tummy now fully visible to you for the first time. His skin is a delicious shade of honey and whiskey and the water droplets running from his chest to his pubic area make it look sweet and inviting. His muscles aren’t overly prominent but just enough to flex and reveal some veins, and his stature somehow looks longer, taller than when he is clothed.

You can’t help but admire the sight before you, feeling an involuntary tug of desire. The damp hair clings to his forehead, and the fresh scent of soap mingles with the steam still lingering from the shower. He looks almost ethereal in the dim light, a contrast to the grimy room surrounding you both.

Your mind drifts to a tantalising fantasy - crawling towards him, begging him to let you take his virginity right here on the filthy, stained bed. The thought sends a shiver down your spine but you know there is a time and a place for such thoughts, and now isn’t ideal. 

He pats some of the water from his left ear before shaking his hair like a dog coming in from the rain. Pushing his hair back, he catches you staring at him and immediately blushes, a tint of rose travelling from his neck to his cheeks.

“Sorry, I should have put my clothes back on,” he says bashfully, quickly retreating to the bathroom to grab his boxers. 

You shake your head to clear your thoughts and respond to his statement. “No, no. We only have one set of clothes each, so it’s best we don’t sleep in them for now,” you say, offering a pragmatic approach to the sleepwear arrangement. 

Taking off his shirt from your body, you stand up and hand it to him. “Thank you for letting me borrow this. I might need it again tomorrow though.” You walk over to him, handing the material back.

His eyes hover on your chest for a second before quickly looking away, careful not to meet your gaze or make eye contact with your erect nipples. Inside, his internal monologue is screaming at even the prospect of seeing your boobs again, but just like in the car, he wants to remain respectful.

You cock your head in surprise at his reaction, not understanding why he won’t even spare you a glance. Looking down at your bare chest, you inhale in understanding and let out a small, huffed laugh. “Heeseung, you were holding my tits not even 14 hours ago, you can look at them.”

“I know, but I still need to be respectful,” he replies, his eyes still not daring to look at any part of your body. It’s not that he doesn’t want to; it’s simply the fact that he wants you to feel comfortable. And how comfortable can a woman be with a man’s prying eyes all over her?

Heeseung might be the most considerate man you have ever met, so hearing him say even the word respect in your presence fills your heart with warmth.

“Do you want me to put it back on?” you ask, waving the shirt in his face. You also have to respect him, and if he’s uncomfortable with you being topless, you need to honour his wishes.

Those Bambi eyes come out once again as he shakes his head. “No, if you’re comfortable, then so am I.”

You smile at his genuine concern. The room’s dim light casts soft shadows on his face, accentuating his gentle features. “You really are something else, Heeseung. You’re so sweet,” you say softly, feeling a sense of comfort in his presence.

Heeseung’s blush deepens, and he shifts slightly, clearly not used to receiving compliments. “I just want you to feel safe,” he mumbles, his eyes still focused on anything but you.

“Thank you,” you reply sincerely. Reaching up to his cheek, you gently pull him to look at you. “I haven’t felt this safe in a long time.”

It’s true. Sure, you might have the police on your trail by now and there is no working lock on the motel room door, but with Heeseung, you feel protected, even if just emotionally. And as Heeseung leans into your touch, you know he feels the same.

If there was anyone to be in this nightmare with, you’re glad it’s him.

“Why don’t we go to bed?” you suggest, pinching his cheek ever so slightly before removing your hand from his face. His cheek wishes to follow you, to keep the heat and easement of its touch, the cold air from the draught now washing over him uncomfortably but that could be due to the fact that he is still only in a towel.

“You don’t want to shower? It might help your feet,” the boy suggests.

“No, I just…I need to rest right now.” The thought of going in for a shower and spending any more time on your feet makes your skin crawl. You’ll shower in the morning but right now, you need to lie down and drift out of this nightmare, even if only for a couple of hours.

Heeseung nods, trying to muster a smile despite the obvious discomfort from the chill and the situation. He stands, turning away slightly to hide his lingering embarrassment as he slips into his boxers, leaving his upper body bare. He twists to turn the overhead light off and makes his way to the uncomfortable bed.

You, meanwhile, pull the blanket up and over your shoulders, creating a small cocoon of warmth and a barrier between your tits and his eyes, just in case he overheats at the sight of them in his face. As you settle in, you can’t help but glance at Heeseung, his body now framed by the dim light of the moonlight and his ass is just peachy enough to make you want to grab it. He slips under the blanket beside you before your mind can wander away once again, careful to maintain a respectful distance.

The bed is small, forcing you both closer than you might have intended but the shared warmth is a welcome relief from the chill. You can hear the steady rhythm of Heeseung’s breathing, a sound that somehow manages to soothe your frayed nerves. He turns his head slightly, his eyes meeting yours and you offer him a reassuring smile.

Heeseung can’t help but admire your beauty, your eyes that speak of the strong woman you are, how you have handled yourself so well throughout all of this, and yet he can still see the vulnerability in your pupils. He believes that there isn’t a woman as beautiful as you in this entire world and he wishes under different circumstances things could be different for both of you.

With a trembling hand, he reaches to push the strayed hairs from your face, a caring gesture that your heart isn’t acquainted with. His fingertips ghost your forehead so lightly that a butterfly could do more damage. You smile and find your body melting, even if only slightly, caving into the comfort.

He smiles back at you, a little more confident in his touch once he sees you visibly at ease. He won’t let you know how much his heart is racing or how the water from his back is out of nervous sweating and not the lukewarm shower he just took. He is nervous to even be in this bed with you, yet he knows you don’t need to hear about that right now, you just need someone to lean on and Heeseung will make damn sure to be that person for you.

“Heeseung?” 

“Hmm?”

“I’m really sorry,” you begin, voice breaking a tiny bit as you apologise to him. “This is all my fault and I dragged you into this mess. You should be sitting that exam on Monday and you sure as fuck shouldn’t be with me in this shithole of a motel, god knows how far away from home.”

Your words make Heeseung’s heart break, the cracks allowing his empathy to seep through into his touch. His hand cups your face, his thumb gently stroking the apples of your cheeks, each caress a silent kiss of reassurance.

“Y/N, you couldn’t have known all of this was going to happen,” he says softly, his voice laced with sympathy. He knows you’ll shoulder the blame, even though you never asked for the brute of a man to almost murder you.

Your hand covers his, and you clasp it, bringing it to rest between you both. “I think I did, in some way. He didn’t take it very well when I told him to shove his money and never come back.” The memory of the man’s red-clad face and angry words winces in your chest as you speak.

“What did he do? Did he…hurt you?” Heeseung swallows the last part of the sentence, already aware of the horrors that can happen in your line of work. His heart sinks into his stomach as you sit in silence, contemplating what to tell him. Part of him wishes he hadn’t asked, fearing the confirmation that the man’s earlier attack wasn’t his first attempt to harm you. Heeseung might have approached this life with pure intentions, but he knows other men certainly do not.

You look down at your interlocked hands and squeeze his fingers tightly. “He was a nice guy at first, paid well and always respected my boundaries. Then one day, he asked me to do something I wasn’t comfortable with, almost forcing me to,” you choke back the tear-filled lump in your throat and close your eyes, the memory overwhelming you. You haven’t spoken out loud about what happened, making it difficult to process emotionally.

Seeing you struggle internally, Heeseung brings your hand to his mouth and kisses it softly, taking a leaf from Sunghoon’s book in an attempt to console you. The meaning behind his gesture compared to the drivers is vastly different and you can even feel it in how tenderly his lips press on your knuckles. 

There is a rumble in your chest as you look at Heeseung who is staring back at you with a shy grin, hoping that his attempt to comfort you has worked. Somehow, it has, and the tears that threatened to spill now make their way back to the ducts as you blink them away. It’s amazing how quickly a simple comforting touch can change the direction of your emotions. As quickly as you want to break down and succumb to the negative emotions, Heeseung has turned the plane around into overwhelming thankfulness. 

Breathing in, you compose yourself again and return his smile. “Thank you. I’m really okay,” liar, “I’m just…sorry I got you into this mess and took you away from your friends and family.”

"Hey, stop apologising. This is no one’s fault but that scum of a dickhead,” Heeseung replies almost instantly, not giving you a chance to take the blame any longer.

You unclasp your hand from his and tuck his long hair behind his ear. His face instantly reddens at the intimate action, the blush spreading rapidly across his cheeks. How he swallows dryly and closes his eyes to calm himself down makes you giggle. “You really haven’t been around girls, have you?” you ask with one eyebrow raised, genuinely curious. You believe him, but you also don’t understand how someone so attractive and kind-hearted has gone 22 years without catching the interest of even one girl.

“No, I haven’t,” he admits, his voice matter-of-fact. But as he sees your eyes urging him to elaborate, he continues, “You’re all just so amazing and beautiful that even thinking about you all puts me in a cold sweat. Every time I talk to a girl, I stutter.”

“Well, with how sweet you are and how big your cock is, you’re doing my kind a disservice here,” you chuckle and he soon follows, although his titter is one filled with nerves due to you mentioning his cock, never mind complimenting it. 

Even this subtle moment of laughter eases the sadness that engulfs the small, suffocating room. Your body relaxes instantly as you share the tender moment, the worries subsiding if only for a few seconds. You truly believe that with Heeseung here with you, there might be a white light at the end of the tunnel.

“We will get through this, yeah?” you ask, your voice trembling slightly, betraying the nerves beneath your bravado.

Heeseung, lying beside you, feels an overwhelming rush of emotion at your words. The term ‘we’ makes his knees buckle and his body melt, even in his reclined position. The idea that you are now a ‘we’ fills him with a strange pride; it feels right. In the midst of the chaos and uncertainty, this newly formed bond with you is the one thing that makes sense.

Taking your hand gently, he brings it up from under the covers, the warmth of your touch grounding him. He holds out his pinky, a simple yet powerful gesture of solidarity, and intertwines it with yours. “Together,” he murmurs, his voice steady and filled with conviction for the first time since you met.

You squeeze his pinky, conveying a depth of emotion that words cannot. The weight of the world still presses down on you both but in this moment you feel a sense of unity and strength that gives you hope.

Heeseung's gaze softens as he looks at you, his eyes reflecting the unspoken promises and shared resolve between you. “We’ll face whatever comes,” he continues, his thumb gently rubbing the back of your hand. “I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. We’ll find a way through this.”

A lump forms in your throat, deeply moved by his sincerity. “Thank you, Heeseung,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “For everything.”

You lean forward and press a tender kiss to his lips, shocking him still before he responds. His lips are soft and warm against yours, and you can feel the initial surprise melt into a gentle acceptance. He moves his lips timidly against your gentle motions, embracing your bottom lip between his. When you pull back, your foreheads rest against each other, and you can feel his breath, a soft, comforting rhythm against your skin.

Heeseung's eyes flutter open, filled with a mixture of awe and tenderness. “Y/N,” he breathes, his voice low. “I... I don’t....”

“I won’t charge you for that one, don’t worry,” you joke, eyes shrinking in size as you smile at him with adoration. 

“You can add it to my bill,” he jabs back, the ease between you both settling softly in his heart. He’s in this with you for however long you can both keep running; he’ll never run out of breath with you by his side.

You both settle back down, the exhaustion of the day finally catching up with you. As you lie there, facing one another, the connection between you creates a sanctuary, a haven amid the storm..

“Goodnight, Heeseung,” you murmur, your eyes closing as sleep begins to pull you under.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he replies softly, pressing another nervous gentle kiss to your forehead, hoping you don’t mind it. “Sweet dreams.”

_____

It has been three days since you and Heeseung embarked on this desperate journey. The days blur together into a surreal montage of fleeting rides in strangers’ cars, restless nights spent in makeshift shelters, and scavenging through lost and found bins for essentials. The denim booty shorts were a tight fit, the crop top strained against your curves, and the trainers were a comically mismatched pair that made walking more of a challenge than usual. But they were clothes and that counted for something; you’re just thankful to keep your heels firmly off your feet.

On the plus side, the witch hunt hasn’t caught up with you yet. There have been no news articles or TV broadcasts with your faces plastered on them, which means the authorities are probably still focusing their search on your home city. Maybe they think you’re hiding out somewhere familiar, not realising you’ve already slipped away. There’s also a slight comfort in knowing you’re not their top priority, what with a lunatic serial killer on the loose taking up most of their attention. The murder of a local cheater seems low on their list, giving you a small, but temporary, reprieve.

But you can’t afford to get too comfortable. It’s only a matter of time before they widen their search and your faces become recognisable as wanted criminals. Every day, you wake up with a jolt, wondering if today will be the day they catch up to you. Fear is a constant companion.

You’ve settled into a rough routine. By day, you move from place to place, never staying too long in one spot. By night, you find whatever shelter you can and try to get some rest. Sleep doesn’t come easy, not with the constant worry of being found, but having Heeseung beside you helps. You take turns keeping watch and your trust in each other grows stronger with each passing day.

There’s an unspoken bond between you now, forged by the hardships you’ve faced together. You’ve seen each other at your lowest, your most vulnerable, and yet there’s a strength in that vulnerability. You’ve learned to rely on each other in ways you never thought possible, and it’s this reliance that keeps you going, even when everything else seems bleak.

Heeseung has also gotten over the virgin nerves and talks to you casually, the stuttering and awkward glances to you now significantly less.However, his newfound ease doesn’t extend to other girls. One driver you hitched a ride from was a beautiful brunette with tanned skin and tattoos along her neck. At first, you thought he might have been nervous due to her rugged appearance, but that was quickly debunked when you caught him fumbling over his sentences, even when she asked for something as simple as his name. He was clearly taken aback by her beauty. You can't help but slightly miss how he used to be like that around you, though you have more pressing concerns at the moment.

As you both approach a convenience store, you turn to Heeseung. "Do we have enough money to buy ciggies?"

Heeseung sighs, shaking his head. "No, we don’t. We used the last £2 we had on the bottles of water and that pack of Opal Fruits," he replies, the defeat in his voice palpable. The thought of no more delicious fruit-flavoured cubed treats to munch on for a burst of energy or to get the taste of dehydration from his mouth makes him want to whine out like a displeased child.

The convenience store is a small, rundown building with flickering lights. As you step inside, the smell of stale bread and cleaning detergent hits you. The fluorescent lights cast a harsh glare on the faded linoleum floor. You glance around, hoping to find something cheap enough to stave off your hunger, but your pockets are painfully empty.

Heeseung starts browsing the shelves, his eyes lingering on the snacks and drinks you can't afford. You both know stealing isn’t an option - not between Heeseung’s morals and the possibility that getting caught could mean the end of your freedom. Still, the gnawing hunger and the need for a smoke make it hard to ignore the tempting sight of cigarettes behind the counter.

You notice Heeseung's gaze fixed on a pack of Hobnob biscuits, his expression is a mix of longing and resignation. “Maybe we can find some loose change outside,” he suggests half-heartedly, already knowing it’s a long shot. None of you have found even 20p in all the time you’ve been walking.

The shopkeeper, a grumpy-looking old man with glasses perched precariously on the bridge of his nose, eyes you both suspiciously, your raggy clothes and dishevelled appearance enough to put any shop owner on high alert. You try to ignore the weight of his stare, feeling more like fugitives with each passing second.

"Let's just go," you mutter, pulling Heeseung towards the door. "We'll figure something out."

Outside, the scorching sun beats down relentlessly, turning the air into a furnace that makes your skin tingle and your clothes cling uncomfortably. There’s not much around besides the convenience store, a few gas pumps, and an old, forgotten bus stop that provides a meagre shelter from the blistering heat. Exhausted and desperate, you flop down onto the narrow seat of the bus stop, letting out a sigh of relief tinged with despair.

Resting your head against the plastic shelter, you shield your eyes from the glaring sun with your hand. In a swift move, Heeseung positions himself in front of you, casting a cool shadow that eases the strain on your eyes. The reprieve is brief but welcome in this sweltering heat.

While taking a moment to catch your breath, something catches your eye - a flyer hanging askew on the bus stop wall. It flutters in the hot breeze, its edges worn and corners curling from exposure to the elements. You reach out and grab it, fingers brushing against the weathered paper. Despite its faded appearance, the bold, colourful graphics are still discernible, and your heart skips a beat as you read the headline:

“Saturn Club: Where the Stars Align for a Stellar Time.”

Your eyes widen as you scan the flyer. It's an advertisement for a local strip club, promising quick cash for performers. The advert is as though it was made for you, what with all the countless times you’ve had to do strip teases for clients.

"Heeseung, look at this," you say, handing him the flyer with a mix of excitement and apprehension. "There is a strip club not far from here!” you exclaim. Never in your life did you think you would be so happy to see a strip club in rundown Britain, yet, it might as well be a casino in Vegas for you both right now. 

Taking the poster from your hand, Heeseung inspects it carefully and his brows furrow in contemplation between concern and pragmatic consideration. “Y/N, this…are you sure? The men at these places can get pretty handsy.”

“I’m a sex worker, Heeseung, all I know is handsy,” you laugh, still elated by the idea of earning enough money to survive even just a little longer. “It’s only one night and the least I ever made was £300.”

Heeseung sighs, torn between his protective instincts and the harsh reality of your current situation. The thought of you subjected to the leering eyes and groping hands of strangers doesn't sit well with him, but he knows you both need the money urgently, and he can’t exactly argue that £300, or even £50, wouldn’t do you both the world of good.

"We need the money," you add softly, seeing the turmoil in his eyes. "And right now, this might be our best shot. Let me do this."

Heeseung nods reluctantly, handing the flyer back to you. "Okay, if this is what we have to do," his voice is tinged with resignation. Deep down, he wishes there were another way, a safer way for you to earn the cash you need.

“You need to sell me though,” you say, already trying to fix your hair in the reflection of the shelter window panes.

Tilting his head, he looks at you quizzically. “What the hell do you mean ‘sell’ you.”

You take a deep breath, gathering your thoughts before explaining. "I mean, I have to look appealing, desirable. These places thrive on attraction, Heeseung. Men only want what they think is in high demand," you say earnestly, meeting his concerned gaze. "So I need you to present me to the owner, assuming it's a man. Tell him that I'm highly wanted all over South London. That should seal the deal."

Wanted was not an intentional word choice but technically then, Heeseung wasn’t lying. You technically are wanted.

“You mean you want me to pimp you out?” he gasps, clutching onto your bag with might as he fathoms the idea. He doesn’t want to ‘sell’ you, he wants you to go in there, sit on a few laps and then dip.

But when he looks into your pleading eyes, he knows there is no point in arguing with you. You’re going to that club whether he likes it or not, he might as well support you, protect you. Although he doesn’t know if he’ll be any use, you do a damn good job at that all on your own.

Heeseung takes a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "Alright," he says, his voice more resolute. "Let's do this. But I'll be right there with you, okay? I'm not leaving your side for a second."

“Good, you can watch me in action,” you smile, winking as you begin the walk to the sleazy club.

_____

After a twenty-minute walk and Heeseung running his fingers through your hair to make it look presentable, you both stand outside Saturn strip club. The sign above the entrance flickers with an image of a planet and rings, casting an ethereal blue and orange glow that adds to the futuristic atmosphere. Despite it being only late afternoon, the music is already blaring, and the car park is packed with vehicles, a testament to the club's popularity; which means more money for you and Heeseung.

Grabbing your hand, Heeseung pulls you back before you head to the bouncer, causing you to whip around. His iris’ gleam with apprehension as he eyes you one last time. “If anyone touches you or does something you don’t like, give me a signal and I’ll be the first one there,” he says calmly, though his voice box shakes slightly. It’s one thing to imagine you in an uncomfortable predicament, but somehow knowing he is benefiting from this too makes him feel queasy.

You squeeze his hand reassuringly, the warmth of his touch grounding you. “I promise, you’ll be the first I run to,” you say, offering him a wide grin to ease his nerves. You want him to know that you’re ready for whatever lies behind those black double doors.

Heeseung nods, taking a deep breath as he lets you go. The bouncer gives you a brief nod and opens the door, letting you both step inside the entrance area of the club. The interior is even more dazzling than you anticipated, with laser lights cutting through artificial smoke, creating an atmosphere that feels otherworldly. You wouldn’t think it was broad daylight outside, so much so you have to adjust your eyes.

An eager host comes up to greet you, her eyes already trained on Heeseung only. She is gorgeous, more beautiful than you could ever imagine being which makes you wonder how on earth she ended up in a place like this. 

You take her in, unable to resist admiring her curves in the skimpy outfit she clearly chose to maximise tips. She is adorned in white leather, her bra providing minimal coverage and accentuating her cleavage. Pastel pink buckles run along the seams of the cups, matching the pretty pink buckled collar around her neck. The bottom half of her outfit is equally provocative: a white leather thong, complemented by pink straps on either side of her hips. Her thighs are wrapped in matching buckled straps that draw your gaze directly to the intricate cherry blossom tattoo on her thigh. The overall effect is mesmerising, her outfit both alluring and carefully crafted to captivate attention.

And attention she has gained, particularly from your tall companion, whose mouth hangs open as he twists his neck, a telltale sign of his overstimulation. The girl places her hands on his chest, rubbing his pecs slightly, her touch both confident and teasing. Heeseung's eyes widen, his breath hitching as he tries to process the sudden intimacy. The girl smirks, clearly enjoying the effect she has on him, her fingers tracing gentle patterns over his shirt.

"What's your name, handsome?" she purrs, her voice low and sultry.

Heeseung stammers, trying to find his voice. "H-Heeseung," he finally manages to say, his cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and excitement. He thinks you’re beautiful - no, he knows you’re beautiful. But this girl is like something off the VHS tapes he keeps under his bed. Her full lips and honey-toned skin are enough to send him into overdrive, never mind how good her touch feels.

“Pretty name, I’m Mars,” she whispers, looking up at him with innocent yet deadly eyes.

“Like the p-planet?” he stutters. He had thought he got over this - speaking with you so freely, seeing your body more times than he could have ever imagined. It was easy with you. But now this girl, Mars, had booked him a ticket right back into Loserville.

Giggling, she pushes her chest into his, bringing her lips to his ear. “Yeah, like the planet. Do you want to explore it, baby?” Her teeth nibble slightly at his lobe and he swears he starts to hear colours as his cock leaps for joy.

The sultry invitation has Heeseung frozen in place, his mind racing with a whirlwind of thoughts and sensations. He's completely out of his depth, his body betraying him as he tries to maintain some semblance of composure. His breath comes in shallow gasps, and he struggles to form coherent words.

You watch as Mars absolutely devours Heeseung’s ability to do anything, and jealousy spikes inside you. Are you envious of the way she makes him feel? Absolutely, and you’re doing a poor job of hiding it. Your face twists in disgust as you glare at the girl, feeling a pang of possessiveness.

“Mars? Hi,” you say, tapping her shoulder with exaggerated politeness. “We’re actually here to see your manager. I need a job.” Your tone is sharp and direct, devoid of any negative emotions toward the hardworking girl. It’s not her fault she’s pining over Heeseung - who wouldn’t? But it doesn’t make it sting any less just because you understand she has a job to do and that your partner in crime is insanely attractive and innocent.

Mars blinks, momentarily taken aback by your interruption. She recovers quickly, though, flashing you a fake professional smile. “Of course, babe. Follow me,” she says, stepping away from Heeseung and giving you a small nod of acknowledgment.

You follow Mars through the club, feeling Heeseung's presence close behind you, his hand constantly on your back for assurance, for him more so than you. The music grows louder as you weave through the throng of patrons, the air thick with the scent of perfume and sweat. Neon lights cast an otherworldly glow on the scene, dancers moving with hypnotic grace under the cosmic-themed decorations.

Reaching a door marked "Manager," Mars knocks lightly before pushing it open. “Boss, I’ve got someone here who’s interested in a job,” she announces, stepping aside to let you and Heeseung enter. 

Before Mars shuts the door behind her, she lets her hand trail down Heeseung’s arm, creating a fleeting contact that sends a shiver over his body. “Come find me when you’re done here, hmm? I’ll take you to the stars,” she whispers with a sultry smile, her words hanging in the air like a promise.

Heeseung audibly gulps, caught off guard by Mars’s bold flirtation. His cheeks flush pink as he nods in response, his movements almost automatic under her gaze. Mars gives him a knowing smile before finally closing the door, leaving you and Heeseung alone with the club manager.

The manager, a stern-looking man with a grizzled beard and piercing eyes, studies you both intently. He gestures for you to take a seat opposite his desk, the room lit dimly by a solitary desk lamp that casts deep shadows across his face.

“So, you’re looking for a job as a dancer?” he asks, his voice gruff yet measured.

“Yes, just for tonight,” you reply, in hopes that it sweetens the deal. “Heeseung will tell you, I’ve done this gig before, tell him.” You pinch Heeseung’s elbow to get him out of his Mars-like trance and he stands to attention, nodding eagerly.

The manager sits forward, waiting to hear Heeseung’s pitch, stroking his beard as he assesses the nervous boy in front of him. Nudging him forward, you look at Heeseung with desperation. It’s humiliating, having to rely on a man to get you work but that’s the business in this day in age. Perhaps one day, women will be able to take the reigns of sex work and enjoy the industry freely without judgment or men involved.

Heeseung shifts nervously, feeling the weight of his words as he describes you to the manager. "Y/N, she is uh…" He pauses, searching for the right thing to say that will convey admiration without making you uncomfortable. "She’s gorgeous, more beautiful than any of the women you have here already," he continues earnestly, his cheeks tinged with a hint of embarrassment. "Her body is to die for, seriously. She’s got curves in all the right places, and there’s this cute little freckle on her ass, like a beauty mark. And her smile…she can pull you in so easily with it."

The honesty in his voice shocks you a little and melts your heart all the same. He’s talking about your body but not once did he make you feel like a piece of meat, his words oddly sending a fleet of butterflies to your stomach. His cheeks tinted rosé only add to the sincerity of his words, showing that he's not accustomed to vocalising such thoughts openly. It's clear he's navigating unfamiliar territory, trying his best to convey his admiration without crossing any boundaries.

“Okay, enough lovey-dovey shit. Turn around for me, Princess,” the manager's gruff directive breaks the tender moment, pulling you sharply back into the stark reality of the strip club's business. His blunt manner contrasts sharply with Heeseung's earlier sincerity, reminding you of the transactional nature of this environment. Swallowing your discomfort, you comply with his request, turning slowly as instructed.

"I have my own lingerie and I can dance to any music," you assert, trying to negotiate terms that will give you some control over the situation. Your eyes plead with him, hoping to strike a balance between earning your keep and maintaining a semblance of autonomy. “I’ll give you 10% of my tips, directly to you, not including the commission from private dances.”

Now that makes the man's ears perk up. Clasping his hands and rubbing them together, the sound mimicking that of two sandpapers, he nods. “Start now. 10% fees and your boyfriend stays away from you.”

"Deal!" you exclaim, relief flooding through you at the prospect of securing work for the night. The excitement in your voice is genuine, tempered by the grim reality of your circumstances. You know there are far better things to be enthusiastic about than exposing yourself for money, but the promise of earning enough for basic needs like a hot meal and a decent bed feels like a small victory in this moment of desperation.

You grasp Heeseung's hand firmly as you exit the manager's office, eager to escape the uncomfortable atmosphere and find some privacy to prepare for your unexpected performance. The hallway is dimly lit, the walls adorned with faded posters advertising past events at the club, their colours muted under the flickering red lights.

"Heeseung, come on," you urge, your voice a hushed whisper tinged with urgency. You guide him down the narrow corridor, following the manager's directions to the dressing room where you can change into the lingerie you brought along. “Can you pass me my bag?” you ask, already shedding the clothes that have clung to you for far too long.

You don’t miss the thongs or the bra, but god did you hate the clothes you were stuck with.

Heeseung nods, silently searching in the bag. His brow furrows slightly as he retrieves your heels, recalling the pain you endured on your first night on the run. Next, he carefully pulls out the baby blue lingerie, decorated with delicate lace details and dainty white bows. Fortunately, you had packed a garter belt and matching fishnet stockings, adding a touch of allure to the ensemble. This was the outfit meant for your most generous client, designed to be slowly peeled away piece by piece to maximise his enjoyment.

Turning to Heeseung, you take the outfit and begin to dress yourself. He feels a pang of discomfort on your behalf, averting his eyes as you start to remove your denim shorts and underwear. He catches himself thinking about how much he’s seen of you and vice versa, how much you’ve shared on this chaotic journey together. Perhaps you are closer than he initially realised, having been through so much in such a short period. Yet, he respects your privacy and understands there are parts of you that should remain yours alone.

As you adjust the lingerie, ensuring everything fits just right, you steal a glance at Heeseung. His cheeks are flushed, and he shifts awkwardly, clearly grappling with conflicting emotions. “Heeseung, how do I look?”

His heart skips a beat at your question, grateful for the permission to openly admire you. You look even more beautiful than the day he first met you, the soft blue hue of the lingerie complementing your skin perfectly. The garters and fishnet stockings add an allure that both excites and unsettles him, stirring desires he’s tried to suppress amidst the chaos of your circumstances.

“Well?” you prompt, twirling gracefully, a playful smile dancing on your lips. His breath catches as he watches you spin, a sight that simultaneously ignites a fierce longing and a protective instinct.

“You look… stunning,” he manages, his voice soft yet filled with sincerity. “Ready.”

He tacks on the last word to offer you more than a mere compliment; it’s a declaration of ability, a reassurance that you’re prepared for whatever lies ahead. Despite the ache in his chest and the turmoil in his mind, Heeseung’s smile remains steadfast.

You meet his gaze, gratitude reflected in your features. His encouragement steadies you, reminding you that despite the circumstances, you are more than capable of taking control of your destiny tonight. You are Y/N L/N, and you can do this.

“Thank you, Heeseung,” you say softly, reaching out to squeeze his hand. His touch grounds you, a tangible anchor in the stormy sea of uncertainties that surrounds you both. “I’ll try and make as much money as I can.”

“And if anyone makes you uncomfortable—”

“Call to you, I know,” you finish his sentence with a sheepish smile, not accustomed to being under someone’s protective watch but grateful for it nonetheless. You lean in and place a gentle kiss on his cheek, feeling a sense of ease knowing he’s there for you.

With a final nod and a reassuring squeeze of his hand, you turn towards the door leading back into the club. The music pulses louder now, beckoning you into the atmosphere of flashing lights and swirling bodies. Adjusting your mindset and your bra strap, you step forward, ready to face the night.

_____

Four hours later, Heeseung remains firmly planted in the same velvet-covered seat, his nerves fraying with each passing minute. The club is now teeming with activity, a veritable circus of swirling bodies, flashing lights, and pounding music. Businessmen in expensive suits mingle with scantily-clad dancers, the scent of perfume and cologne blending into a heady cocktail that fills the air.

Heeseung's leg bounces incessantly, a physical manifestation of his anxiety. He's on edge, eyes darting around the room, trying to avoid making eye contact with the dancers who occasionally drift his way. Each time, he mumbles a polite yet firm, "Not here for that," and though some of the girls give him puzzled or slightly annoyed looks, they leave him alone, recognising a dry well when they see one.

His mind keeps drifting back to you, wondering how you're holding up. The thought of you out there, flaunting your body for money, makes his stomach churn, but he knows there's no other choice. You need this, and he has to be strong for you. He can’t help but glance at the clock every few minutes, each tick of the second hand stretching his patience thinner.

Despite his tension, each time you return from a private dance, your presence alone is enough to soothe his tempered nerves momentarily. Your face is a beacon in the dim, neon-lit haze, glowing with a mixture of triumph and exhaustion. You shoot him a gleeful smile and a thumbs up, your eyes sparkling with excitement and relief, signalling that you're making a decent amount of money.

Heeseung feels a mixture of pride and concern. Pride because you're handling this so well, dancing with grace and charm, turning a dire situation into an opportunity. Concern because he knows the toll this must be taking on you, physically and emotionally. Each time you disappear into the back rooms, he holds his breath, praying silently for your safety.

His focus is jarred back to the present as a particularly loud group of businessmen settles into the seats next to him. Their raucous laughter and crude jokes only amplify his discomfort. He shifts in his seat, trying to block out their conversation, but their words seep through, unfortunately. This is just one of the times he wishes that he had a backbone and could tell them to stop being derogatory but he’s already on a boat without a paddle in this place and if he gets kicked out then he can’t be here for you, so he sits quietly and focuses on your upcoming performance.

You’ve done so well over the past couple of hours that the manager has given you the go-ahead for a special 'one night only' stage performance. This is where the punters can throw as much or as little money as they want, as long as the club gets half of your earnings. In Heeseung’s mind, it’s not worth the effort, but you know even with the cut, you could easily make at least £200 from this one dance alone.

Heeseung’s anxiety spikes as the announcement is made, attention from everyone in Saturn is now glued to the stage. However, just as he is about to get comfy, he’s barely settled back into his velvet seat when suddenly, there’s a weight on his lap - unfamiliar but not unpleasant. His heart skips a beat and he tenses.

Looking down, he finds Mars, the sultry hostess from earlier, perched comfortably on his thighs. Her perfume envelops him, a heady mix of vanilla and spice that adds to his already heightened senses. She smiles seductively, her eyes glinting with mischief as she twirls a lock of her hair around her finger.

“You looked a little lonely,” she observes, her eyes trailing up and down his body. She brings a shot glass to his face. “Here, have a drink on me, you seem a bit dehydrated.”

“I-I don’t drink, sorry,” Heeseung stammers awkwardly, avoiding eye contact and focusing on the stage as he waits for you to appear. He isn’t exactly uncomfortable in her presence, but he doesn’t know what to do. Talking to women is still an issue for him, so what is he to do now that Aphrodite’s daughter is on his lap and showing him interest?

Mars giggles and shoots the shot of tequila back herself, shrugging as she places the glass on the table in front of them. “You’re a good boy, huh?”

Heeseung shifts nervously, his hands resting awkwardly on the sides of the chair in a desperate attempt not to touch her. "I just...don't really drink," he explains, his voice barely audible over the swell of the music.

Mars leans in closer, her breath warm against his ear. "That's okay," she whispers, her tone playful yet reassuring. "I like good boys."

Heeseung's cheeks flush even deeper, his mind a chaotic whirl of emotions. He's trying to focus on the stage, waiting for your performance to start, but Mars's proximity and the beautiful tone of her voice are incredibly distracting. He wishes he had the confidence to brush her off more assertively, but he's too polite and too nervous to do anything but sit there, stiff as a board.

The first few notes of ‘I Touch Myself’ by Divinyls send a shiver down his spine, and his attention is immediately captured. The stage lights dim, creating an atmosphere of anticipation. Then, you step into the spotlight. The transformation is immediate; you move with confidence and grace that mesmerises everyone in the room, including Heeseung.

The baby blue lingerie hugs your curves perfectly, the lace and bows adding an innocent allure to your otherwise sultry appearance. The garter and fishnets complete the look, drawing appreciative murmurs and wolf whistles from the crowd.

Mars shifts slightly, pressing closer to Heeseung in an attempt to lure his attention away from you, but he’s too engrossed in your performance to pay her much attention. You meet his gaze briefly, and the connection is electric. Your smile, despite the suggestive dance, is warm and genuine, a silent reassurance that you’re okay, in fact, you’re enjoying yourself.

You didn’t get the chance to perform like this much at your old job, in front of a crowd and void of clammy hands roaming all over your body. It was a nice change to just perform and feel comfortable. The clients here are actually quite respectful, each of the men you’ve taken for a private dance has only asked for what’s on the menu and nothing more. They’ve respected your boundaries, which is more than you can say for the men you usually encounter in your line of work.

This dance wasn’t even necessary in terms of making money; you have made more than enough for you and Heeseung to get by for at least a week. But as you look at Heeseung, who hasn’t taken his eyes off of you despite the eager house girl doing everything in her power to grab his attention, you feel even happier you decided to do this.

There is no denying in your mind that you’ve grown fond of Heeseung, maybe you like him even a little bit, so to have him captivated like this is boosting your ego and putting an extra beat in your step. He isn’t your boyfriend or lover but he makes you feel content like one should.

That probably explains the jealousy creeping up in you. Despite his avoidance of the girl touching his chest and arms, you can’t help but feel like that should be you, that you should be the one to have him squirming and swallowing thickly as you whisper sensual words in his ear.

Why do you feel like this all of a sudden? Maybe due to the fact that it’s the first time you’ve seen him with a girl since you’ve known him and it’s bringing a protective instinct out in you, maybe it’s because you see him as more than the partner in crime you keep painting him to be.

Whatever the reason, you can’t stand by and watch it happen any longer.

Despite the manager's warning for Heeseung to stay away, you can't help but devise a plan to draw him away from Mars while also delivering an unforgettable performance for the eager men ready to spend their money. Determined to keep Heeseung's attentiveness and secure a hefty tip from the men beside hin, you approach the pole with calculated confidence.

Gripping the cool, polished metal, you begin your routine with a graceful twist, your body moving fluidly. As you spin, your leg wraps around the pole, securing you in a seamless motion. Your movements are deliberate and skilled, every turn and twirl executed with precision. The pole becomes an extension of your body, allowing you to showcase your strength and agility.

Using the momentum, you propel yourself into a daring inversion, your legs splitting elegantly as you hold yourself upside down. The crowd's cheers and whistles grow louder, their excitement palpable. The money flows your way with ease, but your focus is on a bigger prize.

You glance over at Heeseung, seeing him mesmerised, his eyes locked on you. The sight spurs you on, and you walk to the edge of the stage, elongating your legs and exaggerating each movement, your gaze never leaving his. You bend down slowly, getting on your hands and knees, crawling across the stage with the slow, sleek grace of a lioness stalking her prey. Tonight, your prey is Lee Heeseung.

And fuck, does he know it.

Heeseung sits up straight, his eyes glued to yours as you draw him in, smiling at him half innocently, half predatorily. His reaction causes Mars to stumble off his lap, forcing her to catch herself on the arm of the chair. He doesn’t mean to cause the disruption and should rightfully apologise, but all he sees is you. It's as if you're casting a spell on him, and as you beckon him forward with the curl of your finger, he stands up like a mindless zombie, following your request without hesitation.

Your seductive crawl leaves the audience in awe and the anticipation in the room heightens, you can feel the collective breaths being held. As Heeseung approaches the stage, the connection between you two becomes electric, a tangible force that captivates everyone watching.

You reach out, taking his hand and guiding him up onto the stage. The crowd's whistles and catcalls reach a fever pitch, but all that matters is the look in Heeseung's eyes, a mixture of awe, desire, and something deeper. This is your moment, and you savour every second of it, knowing that you've not only captivated the audience but also claimed Heeseung's undivided attention.

Pushing him gently so his back is against the stripper pole, you smile at him softly. “Just enjoy it, yeah?” you murmur, your voice a seductive purr that sends goosebumps all over his skin. He nods quickly, trying to ignore the sweat trickling down his forehead as he attempts to relax, however, the strain of his cock tingling in his boxers is proving it rather difficult.

You begin to sway in front of him, your hands splayed across his chest, moving them slowly downward past his stomach and hips. Hooking your fingers into his belt loops, you sit back on your heels, looking up at him through your long lashes. The crowd is mesmerised, their attention entirely on you, wondering what you plan to do next and wishing it was going to happen to them.

With a fluid motion, you rise and turn your back to Heeseung, pressing yourself against him as you grind slowly. The sensation of your body moving against his is almost too much for him to handle, and he clenches his fists to maintain some semblance of control. If he pops a boner in front of at least 30 grown men and the dancers, he might just die on the spot. You glance over your shoulder, catching his gaze and giving him a playful wink. 

Heeseung’s eyes widen as you slink your hands down your body and to your thigh, slipping off one of your garters, the lacy fabric sliding down your leg with ease. You twirl it in your fingers, dangling it in front of the shocked boy’s face before wrapping it around his wrists. He watches, transfixed, as you skillfully tie his hands behind the pole, effectively rendering him unable to touch you. The act is both tantalising and torturous for him, his desire evident in the way his body tenses and legs shuffle to find any sort of distraction from his throbbing cock.

Addressing the audience, you wag your finger playfully, utilising your drama skills from the youth centre to emphasise that the bound man can't lay a finger on you, much to the delight of the eager crowd.

You continue your dance with hypnotic grace, the fabric keeping Heeseung firmly restrained. Your hands explore your curves, accentuating every movement, while the lyrics echo the theme of self-indulgence, allowing you to lose yourself in the performance.

Turning away from the audience, you unclasp your bra, your back now fully exposed. The crowd's eegerness grows as you slowly let the straps slide off your shoulders. With a flick of your wrist, you toss the bra aside, eliciting cheers and whistles from the captivated onlookers.

Your eyes are fixed on Heeseung as you approach the finale of the routine, striding towards him with confident allure. “You’re doing so good for me, baby,” you purr, the affectionate nickname slipping out so naturally that it momentarily stuns him. Yet, the look in his eyes tells you he’s far from displeased. 

With a few grinds and touches to Heeseung, the routine comes to an end and you face your adoring fans, the money showering onto the stage in notes of £10s and £20s. You smile and blow kisses to some of the men, bouncing slightly to make your tits clap, earning you a few more whistles and cheers. 

Striding back to Heeseung, you untie the garter from his wrists and pull him to the back, both of your chests heaving in exhilaration. 

“Oh my god, Heeseung! I couldn’t even see the floor for money,” you exclaim, clapping in excitement. With the private dances and your most recent performance, you’ve easily earned over £500, enough for a warm meal and then some.

Heeseung looks at you, smiling shyly, hoping you don’t notice the bulge forming in his trousers. He’s never encountered anyone like you before and can hardly believe he had the privilege of you grinding on him for a good two minutes. The dryness in his mouth is a testament to how long he stood there, mouth agape, watching you perform. If this was his first and last strip show, he’s glad it was yours.

“You did amazing, Y/N,” he says sincerely, causing you to turn your head to face him. His eyes are filled with adoration, but you can see the lust ghosting over them. “I almost busted in my pants out there,” he adds, attempting to joke, but you know he isn’t lying.

Smiling, you step forward, gently pushing him to sit on one of the white tables behind him. The shock is evident on his face. “How about…you bust somewhere else?”

“W-what?” His eyes widen as your fingers begin to fiddle with the button of his trousers.

“Well, you did so well, and I do owe you, considering we got interrupted last time.” Heeseung shakes his head, mouth moving but no words coming out. You laugh softly, finally unbuttoning his jeans. “I’m not taking your virginity in a sleazy strip club,” you assure him in a teasing tone, “But how about I give you some relief?”

His breath hitches as your hand slips beneath the fabric, his body reacting instantly to your touch. Heeseung’s eyes flutter closed, his head tipping back as he surrenders to the sensation. Your fingers wrap around his shaft loosely, to the point you might as well not even be touching it, only driving him further to need.

You kneel in front of him and Heeseung’s breath quickens, your fingers deftly working to free him from his trousers, and his erection springs forth, eager and ready, his tip already on the edge of exploding. You glance up at him, your eyes locking onto his, and the anticipation in the air is suffocating. He can’t believe this is happening and he is just praying to whatever higher power will listen that you won’t get stopped by a maniac trying to kill you.

Slowly, you lean forward, your lips parting as you take him into your mouth. Heeseung lets out a choked gasp, his hands instinctively reaching for the edge of the table to steady himself. The warmth and wetness of your mouth envelop him, and he can hardly believe the pleasure that courses through his body. Somehow, this feels so much better than it did the first time, perhaps because he didn’t spend hours worrying over it and instead, the spontaneity of it all is only adding to his arousal - the less time he has to think, the easier it is to let himself go.

Your tongue swirls around the tip, teasing him with delicate flicks and licks. Heeseung’s eyes roll back, and his grip on the table tightens. Every movement of your mouth sends waves of ecstasy through him, and he’s powerless to do anything but feel.

And what a sensational feeling it is.

You hollow your cheeks, creating a delicious suction as you take him deeper, your tongue pressing and swirling against the underside of his shaft. Heeseung’s breathing becomes ragged, each exhale a desperate moan. You can sense his restraint, the tension in his muscles as he fights the urge to thrust into your mouth. It’s cute how wriggly he is, how even just your mouth is enough to get him fumbling beneath you.

“Oh, shit,” he hisses out, biting his bottom lip just harsh enough to break skin. “This is what heaven feels like, I know it.” He speaks his inner dialogue, the words slipping out by accident as he loses all sense of control to your skilled mouth.

Your hands gently massage his thighs, adding to the sensory overload. You glance up, watching his expressions shift between pleasure and awe, his face red in embarrassment as he whimpers a succession of tiny pleads, willing you to go faster.

The sight of him unravelling heightens your own arousal, spurring you to intensify your efforts. As you bob your head, your right hand wraps around the base, stroking in tandem with your mouth. Heeseung’s body begins to tremble, his legs shaking as he edges closer to release. “Fuck, Y/N, I’m so close,” You quicken your pace, the sounds of your movements filling the room.

Grabbing his hand, you guide it to hold your head, puppeting his fingers to grasp at your head. The silent instruction computes itself to Heeseung’s dazed self and he wraps your hair around his hand, gripping onto you for dear life as you quicken your pace.

You squeeze the bottom of his shaft and thigh in sync, causing the boy to jerk his hips up and his cock to hit the back of your throat. “Fuck!” he yelps out, his length throbbing in your mouth at the action so much that you can feel it on your tongue. You hum around him which only adds to his pleasure.

“Y/N, please, I’m cumming, fuck, I’m cumming,” he whines as his voice hits a higher octave. His hips shallowly jitter, forcing his cock deep into your mouth, taking away half the work as you let him control the situation. For the first time in his life, he is free of embarrassment and nerves, the only feeling he has now is pure need and desire, and it’s all thanks to your mouth.

With a final, deep thrust, Heeseung lets out a guttural moan, his release hitting hard and fast as his balls tighten and the vein that lays underside of his cock protrudes. You feel the warm spurt of his climax run down your throat and fill your mouth, which you swallow eagerly, your tongue continuing to caress him as he rides out his orgasm. The overflow of his cum drips down your chin and onto your bare breasts. The whole scene would turn anyone on and you hope you can get a copy of the CCTV when you’re done.

When he finally begins to relax, you pull back slowly, giving him one last long, teasing lick up his shaft, swirling it around his bell to collect the rest of his glaze before releasing him completely. You look up with a satisfied smile, your lips glistening with the remnants of his seed. Personally, you think it’s the nicest lip gloss you could ever wear, and Heeseung agrees.

Heeseung’s chest heaves as he catches his breath, his eyes wide with a mixture of wonderment and gratitude. He can’t ever repay you for helping him out like this, for giving him his first ever orgasm that was at the hands of someone else.

“Feel better?” you ask playfully, already knowing the answer.

Heeseung nods, a dazed smile spreading across his face, his eyes glazing over with satisfaction. “Much better,” he murmurs, his voice filled with thanks and amazement. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know but you helped me out and I couldn’t have you going out there with a raging hard on, not with Mars about. She’d bounce on it all night and we’d never get out of here,” you jokingly explain.

Heeseung tucks his cock back in his trousers and zips it up, eyes staring at you the whole time. “You think she would have?” His question doesn’t come from bewilderment but rather curiosity, causing you to roll your eyes and walk away.

“Come on, let's get our money.”

_____

Counting the £565 you made from the club, you smile wide, the ends of your mouth splitting your cheeks. The night has been exhilarating, and the weight of the money in your hand feels like a victory. You and Heeseung are making your way back to the convenience store to buy supplies, the thrill of the night still buzzing in your veins.

Heeseung walks beside you, his steps a bit unsteady, still reeling from the intensity of the experience of being in a strip club for half of his day and then getting the best head he thinks he will ever get in his life. He steals glances at you, his expression a mix of admiration and bashfulness. “I still can’t believe how incredible you were,” he says, his voice tinged with awe.

You chuckle, the sound light and happy. “Thanks, Heeseung. I couldn’t have done it without you. You were amazing too. Y’know, you looked really good tied up.” The playful compliment brings a blush to his cheeks, and you can’t help but find his shyness endearing.

As you approach the convenience store, the lights casting a soft glow on the pavement, you feel a sense of contentment when suddenly, someone stops you in your tracks, hand in front of you pointing accusatorily. The gesture makes you feel uneasy, and you grasp Heeseung’s hand with your left and hold onto the money tightly with your right.

“Hey, do I know you two from somewhere?” the man asks in a rugged voice and thick Liverpudlian accent. His eyes are sharp, scrutinising, and it sends a chill down your spine.

Heeseung sees your nervousness and steps forward protectively. “I don’t think so, mate. Sorry,” he says, his voice firm but polite. He gently pulls you out of the man’s way, his grip reassuring on your hand. The words Heeseung spoke are enough to have the man leave you alone, but the encounter leaves you both on edge.

Quickly, you pocket the money in your daisy dukes’ front pocket, keeping your eye on the man as he fades into the night. You have grown accustomed to shady men at night, what with being on the run for nearly four days, but never has one spoken to you so blatantly, especially to ask you a question like that. Unless he was at Saturn earlier, you don’t know how he could know you.

Unfortunately, Heeseung does. Detaching his hand from yours, he looks through the store window to stare at the TV, arms hanging loosely by his side as though he could no longer feel them. In fact, he couldn’t feel any part of his body.

Sensing his tension, you look up at him. “What’s wrong? The guy is gone now,” you reassure, but that isn’t what he is worried about. You follow his gaze to the low-resolution TV perched in the top corner of the store and suddenly, you’re feeling sick and weak, the ground falling beneath you as you read the headline scrolling at the bottom of the screen, pictures plastered as clear as day to complement the words.

BREAKING NEWS: Search begins throughout the UK for suspects Y/N L/N and Lee Heeseung in a brutal passionate murder of local man, aged 56. Authorities say the two fled the scene a few days ago and urge caution to the public. If anyone knows anything please contact Scotland Yard.

Falling back a little, you shake your head in disbelief.

“They’re looking for us…

taglist (closed): @yzzyhee @intromortal @zerobaseone-zhanghao @hooniehon @deobitifull @alvojake @sageryuri @slut4hee @binniesbabe @vveebee @minniejenseo @jebetwo @seunghancore @laurradoesloveu @yongbokified @jaehoonii @jaeyunluvr @melonvrs @criminalyun @enhastolemyheart @fakeuwus @flwrhoes @rayofsunshineeee @moonlighthoon @jaehyuniewifeu @en-ternals @haechonly @got-sunghooned @brownsugarbaybee @heeseungspookie @sunpov @who-tf-soddhi @bambangan

[anonymouscheeses]

Even more and more of obvious shit I point out because I want an excuse to rant while not interacting with actual people in real life who also like this show because I'm masking 😍💜💜

BARELY STARTED AND BRO. YOU JUST LET HER DO THAT TO YOU, ME PERSONALLY-

HE'S PETTING KEE-KEE I LOVE HIM SMM

HER HOOVES. I LOVE IT. NOT LIKE THAT, IM JUST A FURRY-

*grabs pen*

ANGRY CHARLIE FOR THE WIN. I LOVE WHEN THE HAPPY CHARACTER GETS ANGSTY (Cough. Luz. Cough).

The people writing fanfics where she gets FURIOUS. Omg. That was something I read. I LOVE MY FELLOW FANFIC WRITERS BUT OH MY- YALL REALLY HAD CHARLIE M A D.

"Uh-"

I love his reaction lmao look at his goofy face.

HER BOW BECAME HORNS (my "redesign" is now 100% worse)

SAD VAGGIE. THE BOW. DROOPY.

Oh and the angel dust fellow back there 🤯

I LOVE ROSIE SO MUCH HUH

Tall.

No explanation needed. <3

PLEASE HELP???

CUTIE PATOOTIE. I LOVE HER SM UGGHHH

CHARLIE HATES OLD PEOPLE COMFIRMED YAY 😍😍💅💅

Hot

That's it.

IN SYNC. I LOVE THIS SONG AND THE ENTIRE SCENE. WHY IS IT RANKED SO LOW WITH SOME OF YALL?? Okay well-

I thought this song was gonna be a Charlie and Vaggie duet- tbh I still preferred that BUT I LOVE CARMILLA SO I KINDA DONT CARE.

BUT I WAS ROBBED OF AN ACTUAL FULL CHAGGIE DUET (REPRISE DOESNT COUNT) IF H*SKERDUST GETS A FULL ONE WHY CAN'T CHAGGIE? *SOB* uhh anyway-

Is that. Like. How she thinks actually 😰

I know there's been a lot of the lack of Vaggie's self-worth, which I wish was explored into more. I just think the Vaggie(3rd) episode just wasn't needed at all if it didn't even have an impact. Don't get me started on that episode, it was rushed, too early to have character arcs already, and overall not needed or even should have existed periodt.

I hope they explore it next season because GOD this woman needs TO LOVE HERSELF. OR ATLEAST CARE ABOUT HERSELF LIKE????

SWEET MAMA PLEASE. TAKE ME IN YOUR WINGS AAAAAAAAA

Charlie, sharing is caring <3

Out of all the people I thought Charlie would vent to I didn't think it would be ROSIE. It's a nice surprise tho I love her <3

bisexuality.

That's it.

HE'S DANCING. ALASTOR IS DANCING. THEY ARE SLAYING BESTIES. THE MAN IS DANCING. HELP.

Season 2 is going to be Charlie in her villain era and Alastor's reputation era 😍

I LOVE VAGGIE'S FACE. PRECIOUS BABY UGHH... THEN THE WINGS REPLACE THE BOW AND DROOP UGGHH I HOPE IN SEASON 2 WE SEE MORE OF HER WINGS. OR CUT HER HAIR SHORT SO WE CAN HAVE IT ALL THE TIME. Also so Husk and Vaggie can bond over both having wings. Sorry I love their potential friendship so much. AND LUCIFER AND VAGGIE TOO!! BOTH BEING FALLEN ANGELS OMG. UGH THE POTENTIAL OF VAGGIE'S RELATIONSHIPS WITH NOT JUST CHARLIE ARE SO GOOD AND I HAVE BEEN ROBBED OF SEEING HER AS AN ACTUALLY MORE FLESHED OUT CHARACTER. I AM SCREAMING AAAAAAAA.

I can't say how much I love them. It's too much. I cant- yay the teaser image before the show came out <3 they are so fucking adorable. UGH SOME1 END ME

Charlie loves the wings hehehe. Vaggie looks nervous about it. It's probably a reminder to her about when she used to be an exterminator. The healing from everything will take a long time but hopefully Charlie will be there for her the entire time. And vice versa

Ayo- 😰

CHARLIE. T H E PRECIOUS BABY.

Uh next one tomorrow cuz yeah 🤯

[angelic-dew]

I. Need. Hentengu. Clone. Smut. Pleaseeeee 😭😭

It is an utter need rn- Can you do it with a fem reader pls?? <3 love your work btw

˚₊‧꒰ pleasure.☆꒱‧₊˚.! || pt. 1/2 !

✧༉‧₊˚୨ 🌿 ୧・author's note :: I dreaded doing this sm i ain't a smut writer. As much as I love these daddies, I can't stop writing for them as well- istg I was up at 2am writing this smh.

✧༉‧₊˚୨ ⚡ ୧・summary + word count :: you find yourself getting frisky with two of your beloved boyfriend until the other two walk in and are greeted by a delightful sight that they also wish to partake in! + 3134 words. smut.

✧༉‧₊˚୨ 🫧 ୧・pairing :: aizetsu, sekido, karaku, urogi x AFAB reader! {she/her pronouns}

✧༉‧₊˚୨ 🪶 ୧・trigger warnings :: smut, gang bang, anal, oral (giving), degradation, poly relationships, daddy kink, cock warming, dirty talk, marking, biting, double penetration, rough sex, face fucking and grammatical errors. Children dni, this is 18+ content.

Things weren't meant to escalate this quickly, in fact, they weren't supposed to escalate at all! It was supposed to be quality time spent with your precious boyfriends, nothing more, nothing less. Surely, they are demons, yes, but they are so close to humans and possessed many human qualities. They knew how to strategize, how to be crafty and of course, how to feel emotion. That's what got you three together anyways, their strong desire and undying love towards you. Their precious (Name).

There you were, in your private chambers as all of you sat nicely on the large futon-styled bedding. You, Aizetsu and Urogi this time were only meant to unwind and talk with each other! nothing more and nothing less had to be added, however, you and your tongue slipped up. You asked a question, "You know, when was the last time we actually had this much time to ourselves? I feel a bit bored now that I think of it." This phrase drove Urogi to the edge, you were correct, it's been absolute ages since you all have had so much time to yourselves, and it's also been quite the time since he's never been able to touch you as he's been wanting to recently.

His mind went crazy as he thought about the thought of his precious (Name) being slumped over his hardened, meaty cock like the previous time; the demon of joy remembered her expressions exactly, almost as if they were ingrained into his mind. He remembered clear as day and it was evident in his glassy, beady, glistening golden eyes that he was up to no good.

Meanwhile, Aizetsu took into consideration your words as well. However, he was much more on the innocent side. He wondered, what could you all do to pass the time? However, Urogi already had a plan set up for that and he knew for sure it was very much effective from past experience.

He shifted his uneasy yet playful gaze towards the demon of sorrow and whispered into his ear. His perfect plan which they can use to pass the time with their beloved human.

Almost instantaneously, a deep, but vibrant cherry-red blush appeared on Aizetsu's mocha cheeks, tinting them with the rosy colour almost perfectly to suit him as he stuttered subconsciously, "A-are you sure about that exactly U-urogi? I mean, I would not want to upset her after all, she might not want it! And we can't force onto our precious treasure!" hints of desperation yet restraint lacing his words.

You tilted your head to the side in utter confusion. Just what were they even going on about, you wondered until you finally spat at them, "Darlings, just what exactly are you two talking about? I don't mean to be nosy, forgive me, but I'm truly curious to know what's wrong." Innocent. That's what you were. You had no idea what was truly going on between the both of them

The two demons looked at eachother then towards you. One was a total blushing mess and one had a certain gleam in his eyes, as if he's been pining and desired this moment before. Just waiting for you to say those words to him. So he can make a deep fantasy of his come true at last! This was given example of taking advantage of the situation.

"Urogi you handle this!" the demon of sorrow said in a flushed tone as the other puffed his chest up and beamed in satisfaction.

"We want to 'play' with you my dear, wouldn't you allow us to do it dear? I'm sure it'd make Aizetsu very pleased," he coaxed, the look of playfulness making sure never to die in his eyes as he spoke; his gaze fixtures on your beautiful body, only earning for him to lick his lips happily at your physique. The poor other demon just covered his face in utter embarrassment at his clone's actions.

You inhaled then exhaled. Taking a good breath.

You thought about it, it's been nearly forever since you showed them some true lovin', who knows how much they've been wanting to feel you again. To touch you. And you couldn't lie, you were also guilty as well, you wanted for them to have their way with you just like all the previous and pleasurable instances. You three have more than enough time as of the present. Why not make up for the lost amounts? After all, what's the harm in it, just another form of quality time.

"Okay, do as you please," you said solemnly, fixing your gaze onto both demons, a sly grin appearing along your face as you do so. They were certainly in for a treat and they weren't complaining.

♡

They fully stripped you away of your pesky garments at this point, and they were so needy. Your clothing had been flung mercilessly on the floor, as for your undergarments? They suffered a worse fate; being ripped clean off of you, only your bare body being exposed for them to look upon. And they won't lie, it surely was missed sight.

Your physique and structure were just alluring making them want you more. They looked upon your breasts, already feeling a burning sensation beneath both of their large, muscular bodies; it was insatiable. Watching almost as if they were mesmerized by how your hair had fallen perfectly in front of your face, only earning a soft, faint, baby-pink blush to tint their cheeks. In pure adoration, their gaze shifted downwards to your wet, gooey cunt that was just as excited as their own massive, meaty cocks that were practically leaking of runny, sticky pre-cum from their thick tips.

The demon of sorrow wasn't exactly what one could depict as melancholy now, he wasn't living up to his name. In fact, he was in utter lust as he looked at his perfect treasure in all of her glory, he needed you so desperately. His member was incredibly hard and stiff, perfect to be in you at this given moment. Just imagining your warm, tight insides needing some loosening after so much time from not being fucked. It was mouth-watering.

Whilst the demon of pure joy felt himself entering the seventh heaven; in utter bliss even and it hasn't even gotten to the best part. Your gorgeous, angelic figure laid out before them was to die for. It was a sight meant for only them and they were surely possessive and territorial over their precious darling.

"C'mon boys, going to play with your slut or what? I thought you'd been awaiting this moment? Don't you want to do as you please? Making me scream; making me say the name of who owns me exactly? Maybe have me do whatever my masters want me to do for them?" you seductively asserted. Knowing they'd snap out of whatever trance they were in from those mere words.

Within moments they pounced on you like wild beasts patiently stalking their prey. Any and all clothing which had been on them was now discarded for they were no longer needed for what they had in store for their pretty little slut.

Aizetsu was certainly the quicker of the two, within an instant he was positioned sitting up as Urogi waited rather impatiently for him to have his fair share of fun. The demon of sorrow picked you up by your thighs with utter ease for his muscular build made it as if he was lifting a feather.

Gradually, he lowered your body onto his lap, his meaty, fat, thick length filling your poor entrance up simultaneously. It went in completely raw and fully hardened, having to force itself into your ass with pure strength just to allow the oozing tip to squeeze itself in. A simple, soft whimper or two emanated from underneath your soft lips as you felt it finally slip into your tight hole. He slowly continued to plant your tensed body onto his length but abruptly stopped and whispered quietly into your ear, "Please relax dear, I don't want it to hurt you."

Acknowledging his words you nodded and took in a few breaths and attempted to cease the tension in your muscles.

He began again, continuing to fill your tight hole up with his member, the length of the whole thing practically too big for you yet you wanted for him to continue. It stretched your warm insides to its heart's content, savoring the delicate warmth and tightness of your hole. Your face became a flushed, rosey, red mess! You timidly shifted your gaze downwards as various soft, sweet, little moans escaped from underneath your filthy lips. Even though it hurt, it was so pleasurable that it overwhelmed the pain, it just felt so good to finally have your ass stretched again. This was the same feeling as last time but better; you were tighter this time, more prone to the pain of it but there came so much delight as well.

Your cries of pleasure filled the room accompanied by Azietsu's faint whispers of encouragement to keep on going, faint words of endearment for you to take his whole length. At last, it was all in. Your insides cradled and gripped around his massive member, it was warm and felt utterly amazing. "A-ahh~ Mmm-" a pleasure-filled cry escaped from under his tongue as he felt your sensitive whole tense up and squeeze around him. God, it felt good, how he missed this.

As the sounds of pleasure filled Urogi's ears, he became even harder than before practically begging to be taken by you and finally, it was his turn to feel away at you, just like how he imagined it. After all, he remembered how his beloved (Name) is. Your tightness could go unmatched by someone else, nothing could ever compare to how warm your precious insides were. Nothing could ever replicate your soft touch. Nothing or anything could compare to how you made him feel for you. How he desired to touch you once more and finally, he was struck with the perfect opportunity.

He wasted no time, using his eagle-like wings to flap himself over towards you and his fellow clone. His length hairy yet somewhat delectable was running with pre-cum from his tip, begging for you to take him completely as the feeling of nothing similar-sized dick brought shivers along your spine. The demon of joy was a tad bit bigger than his sorrowful counterpart. His grith was to die for as you could barely wrap your hand around the full thing. This was perfect.

He grinned like a madman as he used two of those sharp taloned claws of his to your chin and lifted your face up to meet his. The blush that was scattered messily on your face only drove him further. "Be a good girl for daddy now and take me alright? You know what to do, you whore," he said hungrily and more impatient as Aizetsu stayed quiet. Only until you realized and certain wet tongue was running itself slowly along your neck. It caused you to send shivers along your body as well. It was him, himself, your precious lover with the glowing baby blue eyes marking you. It was only playful kitten licks but it began to grow into something much more rougher.

He started biting away at your soft skin. Those sharp, serrated fangs of his deeply gouging themselves into your savory flesh; it drove him wild. Biting until he hit the point where tiny beads of blood began to spill away from your now fresh wound. Licking it away as if it were nothing he starts to suck along your neck playfully, leaving behind deep, passionate yet dark trails of hickeys which are scattered along your neck, some reaching to your collarbone. Low yet pleased hums and groans spill away from your lips.

Urogi can't help but grin in satisfaction from his clone before making sure his gaze is locked on to you. You listen to his words from before and open your mouth widely, stretching it open a bit more just for good measure. You knew how big he was. And loved it.

"That's a good slut, you are just so cute when you listen to daddy you know darling," he chuckled as he now held his thick base within the palm of his hand, his palm acting like a cradle for his impatient member. Slowly, he began to thrust himself into your warm mouth inch by inch. He needed to feel this so badly. After patiently watching and yearning to touch you again, he definitely earned this bit of utter pleasure that you're giving him. Feeling such utter relief he let out a high-pitched but still deep cry of passion and delight that he unnoticeably slipped out. It just felt too good.

He loved the way you made him feel when he was in this state. It brought him such bliss as he felt your moist, wet tongue take in his entire member. It was as if he fell in love with you all over again when he felt you take in all of his meaty goodness and begin to get to work right off the bat with it. Feeling the utterly adoring sensation of your slimy tongue begin to work away with subtle, gentle strokes to his length which gradually got quicker yet still steady in pace. God, he loved you so much, this made the wait worth the while.

Your tongue wrapped itself around his thick length, the best it could, and moved along his base tirelessly and rather eagerly. As if it were hungry, greedy, wanting for him to release the gooey, sweet, creamy treat he had stored within him. As both of your hands made their way up toward his waist, gripping either side firmly. Aizetsu on the other hand was a big fan of the show, a small smile creeping along his face as he watched his clone be sucked off by the shared, beautiful lover.

Jeez, it felt so good, wonderful even but he wanted more; to spice things up and really show you how badly he's been needing you lately. I mean, there's no harm in showing you what he's really made of? It'd be even more pleasurable if he'd do it as well, he knew the feeling of your warm, wet mouth could be irreplaceable. Why not have some fun with it?

His golden eyes came into contact with yours, that same playful gaze being accompanied by some mischief well in his pupils as he placed one of those taloned claws of his on the back of your head. Gripping at your head with all his might, he had a few locks of your hair messily stored within his iron grip. He chuckled deeply before jerking your entire head onto his meaty member with one swift move, causing you to gag when the tip began to slide down your throat due to the force.

"Take it for me you slut," he spoke up, almost like a yell as Aizetsu whispered in your ear softly, "You can do it precious, you know how to make us feel delightful, just keep up with it." How sweet was he? As he now raised his hands up, which were planted on your thighs before, he began to slowly trace them along your figure gently, as if you were made of porcelain. His soft touches linger as he indulges in the utter satisfaction of his cock being snuggled deeply within your tight ass.

Urogi just grinned and forced it in again, this time it went in as planned. His clawed hand still firmly gripped the back of your head and that's when the fun began; he started to thrust and buck his hips slowly into your moist, wet mouth. The satisfaction washing over him 10 fold was unimaginable as he felt your tongue run along his length as he moved repeatedly in and out of your moist carven.

His thrusts became faster, swifter and rougher in pace. He had you gagging repeatedly, over and over, but he didn't care. The more your body forced his member out, the more he desired to have it pushed back in.

The winged demon was utterly mad, his pupils filling with pleasure as cries of pleasure began the escape unnoticeably once more from underneath his now quivering lips. "Oh fuck- that's it baby~ eat up daddy's cock like there's no tomorrow? You're already being such a good girl for me," he teased in between sharp, heavy breaths.

He leaned his head back just a tad bit as waves of contentment washed over him. Urogi's pupils glowed almost hazily as the gentle moonlight crept through the shoji.

His thrusts were becoming more sloppy but still kept its original pace. Your eager and wet tongue hungrily glided along his full length as it kept moving at speeds you felt were too much even for you, but this only made the demon of joy pulse with ecstasy as he started to feel faint twitches in his cock.

"Oi, oi! what's going on here, hm? You two trying to hog all the fun?" all three of your eyes widened. Neither of you said that, but it was a familiar voice. It was high but it had laces of entertainment stored within it, as if it'd been watching all this time.

It could've only been Karaku. Your green-eyed lover, the demon of pleasure and relaxation.

"How long have you been here?" the demon of sorrow spoke up quietly as he buried his face within the crook of your neck, your mouth still full with Urogi's full length.

He let out a small laugh and stepped closer and revealed yet the other demon behind him. The demon of anger, his gaze was cold and filled with fury and irritation. Sekido was watching the show as well, without any of your knowledge. "Long enough to be amused by this, however, you two are despicable. Can't you even see she has needs too? Her cunt is practically drenched," he bellowed, frustration looming through his words.

Playfully, the green-eyed demon added, "Oh, you're right Sekido, mind if we join you two? I bet we could all have so much fun!" It was evident in his voice he enjoyed every moment of what was being bestowed before him.

The winged demon sloppily and roughly thrust his harden, meaty member out of your mouth, a long, gooey string of saliva connecting it to your lips as a remanence of what lewd acts you two just did.

You panted, sharp, heavy breaths escaping from underneath your lips as your mind raced with lustful thoughts which could transpire for the next few hours.

© angelic-dew :: please don't translate or reclaim without permission <3

[savannahsdeath]

Can we get something where Ellie is injured and when reader takes care of her she feels embarrassed bc she doesn't want to seem weak. But then she like starts crying about "not being strong enough" and just have some cute fluff from reader <33

AHHHZHSBHX i love writing fluff sm like its so comforting !!

ELLIE WILLIAMS X READER

mdni please<3

warnings: minors safe i think?? blood, crying

writers note: its kinda short n all but omghauzb i love ellie sm i need to give her a biiiiggg hug and just never let go like😓🩷my poor baby:(

you intensively listened to the sharp ticking of the clock, waiting for something that'd break the cycle. for someone, actually. for your precious girlfriend ellie, which had a patrol somewhere around jackson. you stayed quiet, listening intently for any signs of her. the sounds of the clock in the background seemed to taunt you, like a reminder of how much time was passing and you had to wait even longer to hear news from her.

it was something about midnight when she finally came knocking on the door, completely soaked in freezing rain. her hair was wet, her face drenched, she looked miserable. you rushed to get a towel to help her dry her hair and body.

when you were done you wrapped your hands around her. she hissed and you instantly pulled away, giving her a pout of pure worry and concern. your eyes inspected her body, without effect. your hands reached out for her top, wanting to take it off and look for any injuries, but she firmly gripped your wrists.

"babe, stop." she said, and maybe you'd listen to her, if her voice didn't sound like begging. and if she begged, she was hiding something.

you freed your hands and rolled her shirt up, revealing a nasty wound on her side. it looked like bullet scratch and it was a miracle - a few millimeters to the left and the shot would pierce her waist.

ellie mumbled a quiet 'fuck...' as her attempt to hide it from you failed. she did her best to look unfazed and pretend to not be in pain, knowing it'd only add to the embarrassment.

ellie sighed and pulled your hands away from the wound, pushing you back. she took a deep breath, the pain evident on her face, and rolled her shirt back down.

"it's fine, i'm fine." she falsely reassured, her shaky voice betraying her attempt to sound tough. she forced a weak smile, trying to play down your worries, but you could tell she wasn't okay.

"ellie, you're bleeding!" you shook your head, your eyes darting back and forth from her wound and her face.

you dragged her to the bedroom, taking a first aid kit from the bathroom on the way. she stayed silent as you softly but forcefully sat her on the bed and started preparing everything.

"this will... sting a bit." you warned her before looking at the disinfectant. you knew it'll do way more than just 'sting a bit'.

ellie avoided looking at you, hating how vulnerable the whole situation makes her feel. she gritted her teeth as you started cleaning the wound, trying to maintain her composure as best as she could. you could hear her breathing get heavier as the pain began to set in, but she was too proud to let you see her cry.

as you continued to work, she looked away from you, ashamed that you had to fix her mistakes. she knew she should have been more careful and hated how weak she appeared in front of you.

"i'm sorry for making you do this." she murmured, her voice barely audible.

ellie sucked in a sharp breath and clenched the sheets as you applied the disinfectant. a wave of pain washed over her, but she managed to stay silent and hold back a scream.

you finished cleaning the wound and began to bandage it, being careful not to hurt her any further. as you worked, you heard ellie sniffle as she struggled to hold back her emotions. you looked up and saw that ellie is watching you with a mixture of gratitude and embarrassment. her eyes were glistening with unshed tears and she was biting her lip to hold back a wail of agony and relief.

"thank you..." she whispered, her voice breaking.

"don't mention it." you said, your eyes full of sympathy for your suffering girlfriend. you gave her a reassuring smile, best you could manage as her pain hurt you too.

ellie took a deep breath, trying to compose herself as the pain subsided, but she couldn't hold back her tears any longer. she buried her face in her hands as she sobbed bitterly, her whole body shaking with emotion.

you gently wrapped her in a hug, holding her tight to give her some comfort. you whispered reassuring words in her ear, trying to calm her down.

"it's alright- sh, shhh..." you stroked her hair in an attempt to provide some solace. "i'll always be here for you, love."

her arms desperately seeked for support in your body, as her tears slowly dropped and soaked into your shirt.

"how can i keep you safe if i can't even take care of myself?" she mumbled, her voice muffled as her face was pressed against your chest.

you continued to hold ellie in your arms, trying to provide her with the comfort and reassurance she needed.

"you're always taking care of me, and now it's my turn to take care of you." you whispered, gently stroking her hair.

ellie looks up at you, her eyes full of gratitude. you feel her embrace tighten as she clings to you for support.

"my strong, amazing els." you smile, giving her a gentle kiss on the forehead.

you held ellie for what seemed like an eternity, neither of you wanting to let go anytime soon. as you continued to cradle her in your arms, you could feel her warm tears running down your chest, now even beneath your shirt.

you felt her begin to calm down, her sobs easing up and her grip on you gradually loosening. suddenly, she pressed her body against you even tighter, almost like she was afraid of losing you after you've provided her with such comfort.

"i love you." she whispered, burying her head in your chest.

you continued gently stroking ellie's hair, unable to stop smiling at her confession.

"i love you too." you whispered back, as if you just shared a really important secret with her, hugging her tightly.

you felt her relax, her body going limp as she nestled into your chest. it felt like time has stopped, and the two of you together in the moment was all that mattered.

you pressed your forehead against ellie's, looking deep into her green eyes.

"always, forever." you added, before sharing your first kiss in a long while.

[amymbona]

im a firm believer in patrick dating a rlly rlly smart girl like shes so well informed in everything and patrick always searches up what she usually talks about to make her happy ☹️☹️ like she’ll be talking ab a dostoevsky book and he’ll stay up all night reading ab him on google and first thing in the morning he’ll be like did u know dostoevsky started writing to pay off his gambling debts? and he has this really proud look on his face 😭😭

i also feel like he’d feel insecure ab it sometimes cause shes so smart and he feels like she should be with someone who shares the same interests as her but little does he know she also searches up lots of tennis stuff to understand him whenever hes talking ab tennis cause she loves him sm !!!

Are you projecting baby because I'm sensing the thought daughter in this one 😼 and I can very well see myself as well (so if you think you're the other one to my pair, hit me up!)

Imagine Patrick losing his precious sleep just to learn something new about your favourite authors :( he's doing completely shitty at the next day's practice, unable to focus and he's falling asleep in the middle of the court but at least he's well aware of the exact definition of existentialism.

It's the first time in forever when he visits a library for you, to pick some Dostoyevskij and Kafka and Camus (am I listing my favourites? Absolutely :3) and then actually reads the books. You have a feeling that he's ignoring you on purpose, cause it takes like three calls to get him to come to your dorm and then he's mentally completely gone. Is he cheating on you? Is there another girl?

Patrick surprises you by quoting stuff, like why the hell would he suddenly say "My maman died today, maybe yesterday," when his mother is doing completely alright, currently drinking her wine in the Zweig residency? You kiss him senseless when he finally admits to having dedicated so so so much time to getting himself into the world of literature. And all of that just for you! <3

[slut4sugu]

𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐂𝐒 — MINA ASHIDO

❀ Including: agedup!characters, Mina x black!reader, use of names: mamas, pretty girl, ma, pretty girl, princess, slight suggestion towards the end, mentions of hellva boss, also since its cannon that mina is black im gonna write her as such (im keeping her pink skin tho its so pretty) So if thats a problem please keep scrolling! ❀ Genre: fluff/suggestiveness ❀ kams note: BRO I LOVE MINA SM IDK WHY I HAVENT WRITTEN FOR HER SOONER

Back to masterlist . ♬ : slumber party: ashnikko & bonetown: versokia mayday

[🌸] FIRST WEEKS DATING

Since you guys were close friends before you dated mina felt as though you were the perfect person for her to be with and she was the perffect person for you. She knew what you liked and what you didn’t. What turned you on and what creeped you out, but when it came to actually asking you out she felt a lump in her throat. You helped the pink girl calm down and told her to take her time and just say what she had to say, and once she did as such you were beyond shocked yet happy at her words.

“You like me ?” Your acrylic nail pointing to her than back to your chest, your eyes slightly wide at the news. “Yeah..I’m sorry you prolly don’t feel the same-“ You shushed her quickly by pouncing on her body the bed dipping under your weight slightly as you straddled her waist. Giggling as you shook your head. “Ash don’t be sorry, I like you too. I have since you said i was your quote ‘baby mama’.” She blushed at the confession, sitting up against her headboard hesitantly wondering if she should put her hands on your hips or not. (Despite the fact ya’ll have done gay shit before lol.) “Soo does that mean you wanna date me?” She asked, her eyes looking into your pretty brown ones. “Yesss, of course i wanna date you ash- actually i wanna be your baby mama.” You said teasingly with a slight smirk, causing Mina to loose her once shy demeanor and resort back to her regular self. “Then kiss me, pretty girl.”

You both became inseparable. Never leaving each others sides all day, and going as far to work on combination moves with your quirk (you can imagine that for yourself but if you can’t think of nothing uhh your a winx fairy ion know😭).

Even though mina spends most of her time with you and knows how comfortable you are with her, almost everytime she wants to kiss you she always asks. You say she doesn’t have to but she says that ‘I wanna make sure you wanna kiss me as much i wanna kiss you.’ (And she likes hearing you whine when she takes to long to kiss you back <3)

Loves coming over late at night to sleep in your comfy bed, explaining that she can’t sleep without having her hand on your boob. When you both know that she likes cuddling with you more than anything. Though you also know that you can’t fall asleep without her small soft hand squeezing your soft mound.

On the nights she really really misses you, she does her skin care routine at your place and hangs out with you as much as she can before going back on patrol. Promising to be in bed by your side by the time you wake up.

Always pays for your nails & hair appointments, her hero work pays well and she knows yours do too but she loves the sight of her hard money well spent on pretty hello kitty nails.

[🌸] FIRST COUPLE MONTHS

After a few months of dating you she’ll stop asking you for kisses and just give you surprise ones instead, its so cute how she’ll announce her presence with a giggle before attacking you with kisses. She’ll usually tickle you too just to get your attention for the time being, Mina loves having you all to herself and eating up your precious time when you should be doing something else.

Will gladly braid your hair for you! She’s such a sweetheart too, if you start to get tired she’ll let you lean on the inner side of her thigh and doze off while she finishes up for you. Trust n believe she’s taking dozens of pictures of your sleeping face without your knowledge <33

Definitely has gotten matching braids with you before with little beads at the end, its so pretty how the colors compliment her pretty skin. And you of course go out of your way to tell your pretty girlfriend how hot she looks with her knotless braids <33

Starts to leave her clothes over at your place just to have an excuse to come over and stay the night. And well..she loves seeing you in just underwear and her shirts. She thinks it’s the cutest and hottest thing ever <3

If you have a car/ or ride in hers she insists on driving, saying that your her pretty passenger princess and deserves to just chill and play whatever song you want

Buys matching bonnets with you once she starts to realize just exactly how important you are to her <3

Definitely watches hellva boss and LOVES versokia mayday & queen bee. Mina cosplayed for her on your birthday and lets just say yall had fun with the outfit afterwards <33

Listens to: Odetari, niki minaj, ice spice, Beyoncé, ashnikko, Lizzo, flo Milli, Megan the stallion, Marina, and ofc Summer walker

[🌸] 4+ MONTHS

Starts thinking about marrying you fr

Atp everything is natural with you, ass grabs, neck kisses that end up with hickeys on your neck visible for everyone to see. Speaking of that, Mina’s always liked showing you off even if it was slightly inappropriate when she did. Kissing you in front of others, making out with you in clubs, grinding her ass on you, etc. It doesn’t matter to Mina, she just loves showing her girl off.

Taking showers together becomes a daily thing, wash days are especially fun when Mina’s tired from hero work. Her sweet little girlfriend washes her pink hair for her, her bones turning into mush when you massage your fingers into her scalp.

Makeout sessions every day <3

Loves teasing you by calling you names, the way your eyes dart to the corner of the room just motivates Mina even more. Your facial expressions drive her up the wall, she loves how dominant you can be only to turn around and be submissive when she calls you dirty girl or doll.

You had just finished making your shared bed when you heard your girlfriend ask “Are you wearing those black panties i bought you a week ago?” Glancing over your shoulder to see Mina, who’s eyes were stuck on the visible panties that could be seen slightly below your pink bratz shirt. You hummed in response, “They are comfy as hell and I didn’t feel like putting on shorts so-“ You squeaked as you felt a hand on your lower back suddenly push you onto the bed, your arms being folded behind your back as a hand held them tightly. The other going under your shirt from behind, moving it up to fully reveal the scandalous underwear that hugged your ass. “All of this for me doll? Damn you must want something taunting me like this.” Mina’s voice sent a warmth to your core, her touch not helping as you felt her free hand drift back down to your waist and to your ass giving it a squeeze. A small sigh of pleasure escaping from your lips as you felt a heat begin to throb in between your legs with need. Leaning down against you, Mina’s boobs pressed agaisnt your back. Her breath on the shell of your ear which sent chills down your spine. “Do you want something ma? Hmm?” Her voice like silk as her hand went back to your waist, pulling you by the waist and grinding against you. “Answer me honey, you know I like hearing you say what you want.”

[dawnoftime22]

stuffed cat plush.

| T.S

Warnings: R cuddled up with a cat plush, slight worrying from R of why Taylor loves them, a fic thats a teensy bit childish(?), but will entirely melt your heart

Summary: A cuddle session after Taylor gets home from work was all she needed. Especially when she sees the sight of you holding something precious to you in your arms while you slept in bed.

Word Count: 1.6k

Category: fluff, comfort

A/N: okay I maaay be guilty of accidentally spending my time on playing games and had strayed off from writing...I didn't have this already finished before, so its a little late, but I hope you all enjoy it still! :]

A/N 2: also if anyone else has a plushie they keep for themselves, I'd love to hear what their names are or what you have<3

| Started on 27/04/2024, 11:14 PM |

| Finished on 11/07/2024, 7:47 PM |

Main Masterlist | T.S Masterlist

seven days of comfort.

"Hold every part of yourself dear, sweetheart. Every one of them make up the version of you in the present."

|——————————— ⸆⸉ ———————————|

It was the late afternoon when Taylor arrives back home, the front door shutting gently with her hand. The house was quiet, and outside was growing darker with the nighttime.

Taylor looks around, breathing in the feel of home, but as her eyes search the area, you were nowhere to be found. Not in the living room, and not in the kitchen.

She takes off her shoes and sets the keys on its original place upon the hook, then look around more. Thinking, maybe you were in the bedroom, and had chosen a more comfortable spot.

When she arrives to the bedroom, she leans against the doorframe. There you were, on the bed, curled up with a cat plushie in your hand. A gentle smile raises up when she looks at you, her heart melting at the sight.

She walks towards your sleeping form and her lower lip jutted out just slightly in adoration. "Oh, baby..." her voice was a mere whisper, a breath laced with sweetness as she kneels down at the edge of the bed.

Your peacefulness was evident in your face, and she was almost afraid she'd wake you. Taylor's arms fold on the side of the bed, palms facing downwards so she can rest her jaw on her hands.

What a thing to come home to after such a long day, she thought. This was what she adored, what has her keeping her balance. You. The little things.

Her eyes trace every feature visible, everything she loved about you. And the cat plush especially, made her smile wider.

Your hand was curled around it, clutching it close to your chest as you slept. Its eyes were closed, just as yours were, as it always has been.

One of her hands slowly reach up to the cat. Of course, she knows that even though you're sleeping, it would be proven difficult to grab it out from your hold. If there was even the slightest movement, you would grip it tighter.

But she only went to stroke its head lightly, using the side of her index finger, curled up and brushing, just to feel the soft fur.

It was something she got for you long ago. The plush may be just a little ragged, and some stitches were coming loose just a bit by now, but that only shows how much its been given love, and she loves that you can find comfort in it.

The fur on its body was going in one direction, and that was one of the signs that you had possibly been going through the fur with your fingers just before you went to sleep.

Her hand trails up to your cheek, lightly brushing against your soft skin. She can feel the love pouring in her heart, beating in her chest.

Taylor leans in to lay a kiss just on the tip of your nose before she pulls herself back, about to stand up and go to the bathroom to shower, but one small movement from you makes her freeze.

You started to stir, holding your plush tighter before awakening. She watches as your eyes flutter open, blinking away the lingering darkness.

As you adjust back into reality, you realize the figure standing in front of you, and your voice comes out, husky and still engulfed in sleep. "...Tay?"

She smiles softly, seeing your misty eyes meet her blue ones, and she leans back down, still kneeled beside you. "Yeah, sweetheart...I'm home," she whispered, keeping her voice quiet and soft.

You feel her hand gently meet yours in a reassuring embrace, and you let out a gentle breath of relief, having wondered if she was actually there or you were dreaming.

When her hand goes up to your cheek, you lean into the touch, looking up at her with a sleepy lovestruck look. You traced the outline of her eyes before looking into them. Her eyes were so pretty. They were starry as they looked back into yours, like the ocean reflecting the galaxies; simply glimmering with safety, and love.

Her smile widens as she feels the adoration within your gaze, and she leans in to kiss between your cheek and your nose. You crinkled the bridge of your nose, which only made her heartrate faster.

A yawn escapes through your mouth though, and you try to close it with your hand. Taylor purses her lips, although the corners were lifted in a smile that she tried to hide, seeing you being adorable.

"...You got a nice nap?" She asks with the same volume, pushing your hair back gently. Her soft breath was like a feather, tickling your skin lightly as she slowly pulls back.

"Mmhm..." You nod, humming softly as you hold your cat plush closer to your chest, your eyelids falling heavy as you blinked sleepily. She stifles a small giggle, which came out ever so slightly, but you didn't mind or even notice at all.

"Yeah...? Who's this keeping you company?" She whispers, keeping her voice hushed. You blink at her, then you notice that she was looking at the stuffed cat in your hands.

"The plushie you gave me..." You whisper, a light pink flushing over your cheeks as you cuddle closer into it. Her happiness was visible in her eyes, how it squeezed with love, joined in with her smile.

When you saw her hand reaching out, you loosened your grip and let her carefully stroke the fur of your cat plush. She lightly pets the head once she was satisfied, silently thanking it for keeping you comforted and peaceful, and you were grateful at how gentle she seemed to be.

"You look so cute, all cuddled up with it like that." She says. If she wanted to be completely honest, she had the extreme urge to squeeze you, her hands nearly coming up in a frustrated gesture, but she held herself back and kissed your cheek instead.

You giggle, leaning in again to steal a kiss on the lips rather than anywhere else, your skin tingling with all the kisses she's given you before.

"Mind if I join this cuddling session?" Taylor asks, standing up properly and looking down at you. You smile and nod in acceptance, having been hoping she'd join you in bed, even though you've been laying there for hours.

Taylor rounds the bed to get to her side, and you feel the bed dip as she joins you, shuffling closer to you once she put her arm around you.

You lean back against her before deciding to turn around and face her instead. She lets you snuggle into the crook of her neck your plushie in between the both of you.

She sighs softly and slowly in contentment, nuzzling gently into your hair. It was as if only the two of you existed in the world, just in this small moment.

Her eyes fall to a shut. She could feel the warmthness the space holds, and all her worries of her work and life fades away, carried by the fuzzy feeling in her chest. It was all she's ever wanted. To be home, with you.

"Tay," she hears you whisper, and her eyes open slightly again, a questioned hum coming gently from her throat.

You smiled as you saw her, it was as if you can see the tenseness in her dissipate and melt away within your cuddle. But you were holding your cat plush in front of her, as an offer of comfort.

She chuckles, "...Thank you..." Her voice was barely a whisper as her hand took it, and she snuggled it close to her chest. You watched as she leaned down, laying a gentle kiss to its head.

"But you should have it," she says, placing it back into your arms, and you look at her for a moment before she had wrapped her arm around you again.

"I just want you, and cuddles, baby..." she murmurs, smiling softly as she goes to tenderly press a kiss on your cheek.

You felt a warmth raising on your face and in your heart, but accepting what she needed. Your own arm return the embrace, going around the centre of her body as your other one kept itself on your plushie.

She lovingly kisses the side of your head, not minding at all to simply spend time with you like this. Even with your little friend joined in. She could stay like this forever.

Her legs go around yours, absolutely taking you entirely, and the smallest giggle escapes you. But once you grow quiet and settle down, your mind ends up wandering in thought. Taylor looks down, her upper body leaning back just slightly to look at you properly, gazing with love.

“...Why do you love me so much?” You ask suddenly, curiously, and although it was a casual tone, it held the slightest hint of vulnerability. One of your hands reached up, fiddling with her necklace with a gentle touch.

Taylor blinks for a second, trying to process if she heard you correctly, but then chuckles softly, her hand resting on your waist. "You silly baby," she says lovingly. She gently takes your hand that found her necklace and presses a kiss to it. "How can I explain... I love every little thing about you..."

She whispers, then her eyes trail to your stuffed cat. "You know, I love that you take comfort from the smallest things. Its so sweet." She tells you, her hand reaching out to gently touch one of your stuffed cat's legs, wiggling it slightly.

You smile, then nuzzle into her chest. "I love you..." you murmur, but to her, it was loud and clear, especially with your loving gesture. You then turn your face out from her chest, which made her melt.

Taylor smiles back at you, her eyes bright with happiness and adoration. She leans in to gently kiss your lips, a soft whisper of love escaping her lungs. "I love you, too, sweetheart."

"More than words can express," she whispers, like a dear promise that she'll hold onto for the rest of her life.

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

taglist <3 - join here! :]

@dmenby3100 @wandsmxmff @tia-thesimp @marvelwomen-simp @escapereality4music @fawnedolly @justgayloringeverthrone @lovelyy-moonlight @stevecore @midastouch013 @liloandstitchstan @maleahoswick @raven-ss

[mangekyuou]

Straw Hats x Fem reader familial fluff! I wanna see the Straw Hats reactions when they find out their sweet stemstress crew member actually secretly made plushies of all of them, including different cute outfits! BTW, Chopper plushie has a LOT more different cute costumes!

⟡    ֺ   𓂂  headcanons  ,  with a seamstress/seamster crewmate who made them plushies.

✸     characters! . . .  the straw hats.

✸     cw(s)! . . .  platonic. the request says seamstress, but this is gn! no pronouns used. not proofread.

✸     notes! . . .  loved this sm !! i hope i did it justice. thank you so much for requesting !!

luffy absolutely LOVES his, hardly even letting you finish talking before grabbing onto the plushie that looks just like him and running out the door to fly it around like an action figure

he can be a little rough with it. he teared up seeing that he broke the little plushie’s arm off within the first few hours of having it.

you reassure him that it’s okay and that you can just sew it back on and it’s good as new

chopper, like luffy, loves his plushie. he gives you a lot of compliments about how it looks just like him. he gives you the tightest hug

chopper brings his mini-me with him everywhere. because of all the cute outfits that you’ve made for it, he is always matching outfits with the plushie

the reindeer doctor definitely sleeps with the plushie right by his side

usopp keeps his plushie on his workshop desk between his lamp and a cup of pencils and pens where he can always see it

he has developed an unintentional habit of talking to the plushie and showing it his blueprints and new weapons as if it was a real person. there’s something comforting about it

nami keeps hers in the vanity of the girls’ room, so she can see it in every room when she’s getting ready for the day in the morning and when she’s getting ready for bed at night

she loves changing her plushie’s outfit every day. it becomes part of her daily routine

like usopp, nami definitely talks to hers from time to time, ranting about her day or what crazy things luffy has managed to get them into

robin finds her mini-me quite adorable. you know she loves cute things. she couldn’t have asked for a better gift

she keeps her plushie on the nightstand next to her bed, wanting it to be the first thing she sees in the morning and the last thing she sees at night

there are nights were she can’t sleep, her mind refusing to let her relax. she holds onto her plushie and is reminded of you and the rest of the crew, her family

franky adores his mini-me. you even gave it, its own little bottle of cola ?? he could just hug you forever

he adds a little voice box (with your permission of course) to his plushie and records himself saying a few of his catchphrases. so when he does squeeze it, it lets out a little “super!!”

that’s his little son :,)

just when jinbei thought there was no way you could get any more precious, you place the plushie version of himself in his hand

he takes such great care of his mini-me. it’s so nice to see him eating with his plushie sitting on his shoulder. or when he’s going for a swim and his mini-me is sitting on a beach chair not too far behind

brook thinks his little skeleton plushie is so precious. he loves your attention to detail. he finds you including his scar very endearing

you even made it a little tea cup that matches his tea cup

he definitely has tea parties with his mini-me and invites you &lt;3

it’s a gift from you, of course, sanji loves it !! how thoughtful of you to make something for him

he’s not really sure how to explain it. it gives him a mirror of how you see him and you care for him. it’s really comforting. he can’t help but smile and every time he sees little plushie him

zoro is not really vocal in his appreciation for his plushie. he’s not really one for plushies. it worries you that he doesn’t like it at first because he’s just looking at it without saying anything :((

but he does love it !! he does !! he even loves that you made his swords to match. you’ll see him from time to time napping on the deck with little plushie zoro in his lap or right next to him

© MANGEKYUOU  —  do not copy, repost, or translate my works.

[archangeldyke-all]

Hii! Wanted to say that I check your blog the second I start checking my phone every single morning! I love your blog sm and I'd like to thank you for all these wonderful sevika content. You make my day every day<<<3

So, what about sev with reader while reader is suffering from postpartum depression? Maybe reader doesn't want to hold little fucker or breastfeed her.

thank u for such a sweet note! hehe the idea that i'm part of ur morning routine is so sweet i'm like the lesbian newspaper lolol

men and minors dni

sevika knew this was a possibility.

the moment she learned you were pregnant, sevika went into Research Mode. not just for the baby-- how to babyproof a house and pick a baby name and not pass on generational trauma-- but for you too.

so while it breaks her fucking heart seeing you like this-- she's thankful for the fact that she was prepared for it, and knew what to look for.

it's been two months since you gave birth to your perfect little girl, and your postpartum blues have officially become postpartum depression.

you feel truly horrible. in all senses of the word.

physically, you're still recovering from a rough labor and delivery.

mentally, you're so exhausted and foggy that all you can find the energy to do is cry.

and emotionally, you feel like a failure.

for nine months, you were anxiously awaiting the arrival of your beautiful, healthy baby girl. and now she's here, the most important, precious thing in your life... and you can't even hold her.

sevika's been a fucking godsend.

she's constantly reminding you that this is normal. that 15% of people experience what you're experiencing after birth, that the act of giving birth is so intense and hormonal and disruptive and it's no wonder you're still out of wack afterwards, that your daughter loves you, that she loves you.

she's been dragging you to the doctors office once a week, your daughter in her carrier on her left hand, a list of concerns she has about you in her right.

she's been gently feeding you the medicine you've been prescribed each night with a nice warm cup of tea, kissing up your tears when they fall.

she knows that when this ends, what will come next is the endless guilt for being sick during your daughters first few moments. so, she's been taking endless pictures and videos for you-- little fucker throwing up, little fucker sleeping, little fucker's pooping face, and her first sink-bath, and her fast asleep on sevika's chest.

each night, sevika will crawl into bed beside you, little fucker in her arms, and the two of them will sit beside you and tell you what they did all day.

"and then after our walk, what did we do baby?" sevika asks your daughter, an adoring smile on her face. you want to cry but you've been out of tears since dinner, so instead you just reach out and hold sevika's hand. "oh, right, you took a nap and mommy washed all your new clothes from the store-- you're gettin' too big for your newborn clothes, baby girl!" she coos, running her finger against your daughter's chubby cheek.

then, she'll lay a sleeping little fucker down in her crib at the foot of your bed, and pay attention to you.

she helps you pump, holding you and kissing your head while you cry against her shoulder.

"i give it two months 'til you're back to normal babe." sevika whispers, rubbing your back.

you chuckle. "what makes you think that?"

sevika shrugs. "remember how much worse you were a month ago before you got your medicine? before you started goin' to your new-mom support group?" she asks. back then, you were sleeping more than your newborn, close to twenty hours a day, and when you were awake, you were just crying and staring at the ceiling. "look at you now, honey." sevika whispers. "went on a walk with us this morning, pumping three times a day, reading in bed instead'a sleepin'... you're coming around."

you melt into your wifes arms. "how am i ever gonna thank you for this, sev?" you ask.

"thank me?" she asks. you nod.

"for taking care of me. and our girl. holdin' down the fort with a fuckin' newborn while i get my head back on right."

"honey." sevika sighs, kissing you firmly on your forehead. "you never gotta thank me. 'm your wife, did you forget that?" she teases. you snort, pinching her side. "i'd do this forever-- 'til the end of time-- if it means i get to be spending time with my girls."

you fall asleep crying-- which isn't unusual nowadays. but, today, instead of crying from dread or anxiety or the pit of darkness in your chest-- you're crying out of love.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @realgreeniebeanie @k3n-dyll

@sevsdollette

[kenlvry]

Hi there I same you writing for South Park and I wanted to put in a request, how would the main 4 (separate) when their gf gets hurt/in a fight?

Also love how you write them sm

-orchrid anon

how the main 4 would react when their gf gets hurt in a fight

note: HELLO ORCHRID ANON, you sound so sweet, thankyou for the complement i hope you enjoy this one! tw: slight sa in cartmans

⊰⁠⊹ฺ

kenny mccormick

it was lunch and kenny and others was talking about the new game thats about to launch in a couple weeks, stan then asked kenny if you and bebe has been fighting lately.

he was quite confused and asked why he said that, "dude didn't you see? the entire class the both of them was staring at each other as if they wanted to rip each others hair out" kyle chimed into the convo, apparently the whole class noticed it, kenny was focused on something else during class so he didn't notice anything.

all of the sudden some other 4 graders was running outside, cartman asked what was going on and the 4th grader said bebes hair is getting ripped out by you

kenny was shocked af, you weren't the type to get into fights because of how you always forgave people. if bebe did something to you so much to the fact you would fight her makes him worried.

all of them rushed outside to see a big circle and in the middle with you and bebe ,you had your hair tied up with loose hair strands. your lips was bleeding and so was your eyebrow. you cheek was swollen, but if you look at bebe she was a thousand times worse.

you were sitting on top of bebe punching her and kenny knew if he didn't get involved bebe would be dead by the time the fight ended, kenny pulled you away from the fight with you trying to kill that bitch. he quickly took you home despite still being school hours

"what the fuck happened babe? if someones been bothering you, you could've tell me i can handle it" (because of his alter persona being mysterion) "that bitch was talking about my mom being a whore and effing her dad, how could i not get mad???" kenny settled you down on your bed for you to blow some steam off on your pillow.

coming back with the first aid kit he treated your wounds and bruises with you moaning abt it not hurting and wanting to continue fighting. "babe next time dont hurt your precious face like this, just tell me okay? i dont want you to be in trouble"

he was really sweet for comforting you and you calmed down. you kissed him for thanks "damn, do that again but longer" you laughed and so did he. he ended up staying over and listened to you ranting to him about how fucked up bebe is, you two cuddled and watched some movie knowing tmr you'd get sent to mr mackeys for fighting and ditching school . kenny also made a mental note to visit bebe tonight.. <3

stan marsh

school ended and you stan and the others promised to go play at your house, some of the girls called you out, they waited long for you outside of school and cartman was not having it, about 5 minutes later you came out the door

but it seemed like you got into a fight, your hair was a mess and your face was fucked up, even your coat and scarf was missing, you looked like you could have frost bite any second.

the four of them rushed over to ask millions of questions, while being questioned stan realized you were freezing and gave you his coat, he'd rather him being cold than you, now back to questioning.

"what happened dude? you look like shit" you explained that apparently when wendy and the other girls called you to the playground to "talk" it was about stan, wendy was not happy stan broke up with her for you, when you arrived they were wendy and her cronies surrounding you, "what did i tell you about touching stan y/n?! dont fuck with me!"

they all jumped you trying to fuck up your face so stan would loose feelings for you, what they didn't know though was you could take all of them while sleeping, you were a black belt and your dad always taught you self defense, you easily took them. you should've known that wendy had ill intentions towards you.

when stan heard all of this he was fuming he wanted to go in and beat all of them up, luckily he doesn't fight women (unless necessary) kyle and the others was also mad af, you told them to deal with it tmr because all you wanted to do was go home and play some games or wtv.

the next day stan marched right up to wendy, and wow did you handle her.her face was wayyy worse than you, stan almost laughed. anyways he yelled at her on how stupid of it for her to fight you just because they broke up. it got heated real fast, stan ended it with saying "well fuck you wendy, after this don't even think i'd even consider you as a friend!!" he wanted to say so may things but if he did even you would be mad at him.

he'd take care of you until your wounds and bruises gets better, when you do anything he'd act like a whole mother. after this wendy always glared and didn't dare touch you.

kyle broflovski

when he heard you got into a fight he couldn't believe it like "y/n??? y/n l/n??? my girlfriend y/n??" "oh my fucking god yes" he was waiting for you outside the counselors office (with the other of course), it took really long and it sounded like you and whoever it was, was arguing inside.

it ended with a loud sigh from mr mackey and telling the both of you to get out. you came out with your hands in your pockets looking annoyed, you had a tissue up you nose, your eyebrows was bleeding and you had a small cut on your forehead. they were shocked at the state of your face. then the girl that you fought came out. it was a random 4th grader the others haven't meet before, apparently it was the new kid.

you told them that she had moved to the house infront of you and caused havoc, she'd throw eggs at your window and rocks at your bedroom windows, would also ask you to come over just to ask you to clean up her house! you told your parents but they would never catch her in the act. you punched her one day not wanting to deal with the shit she puts you through and she promised the next time she saw you it was on. you just didn't know it'd be at school.

you sigh knowing you have to deal with your parents later. kyle immediately took you the school nurse getting bandages for your wounds and a ice pack for whatever he thought its for. he didn't knew how to do anything but tried so hard, so precious. he told you to stay still and wouldn't have to lift a finger because he and the others can handle it.

the new kid was introduced and everyone knew what she did, you were a very famous lovable person, everyone loved you. wendy rolled her eyes at her knowing what she did to you. everyone ignored her. even when she was being introduced nobody was paying attention, they were just playing. she was mad to say the least, she thought everyone would love her esp kyle bc she took a liking to him!!

when you came back from the nurses office everyone greeted you. asking if your ok and if you need help. the new kid looked pissed at the sudden fame you got. you asked kyle what happened and he told you that not only he told everyone what happened between you two, he spread rumours about her, telling everyone she was someone who'd steal everyones mans and how she liked to steal things

you laughed at his efforts and also didn't know he could be such a gossip girl you kissed him to show thanks, the year continued with the new kid having 1-2 friends just because she was a bitch to you <3

eric cartman

him and three others was at his house waiting for you so they can go and play basketball. while on your guys way to his house some 6th grader called you over, you did and told them to go ahead and wait for you. it was well past 20 minutes now and they re getting bored.

"dude where is your girlfriend? she's taking forever omgg" "i dont know geez" suddenly you burst open the door making them all jump. you were out of breath and looked horrible , your hair looks like you haven't showered in years, your cheek was swollen and your coat had a tear in it, "dude what the fuck happened" "yeah you okay?" you were in tears.

the 6th grades asked to borrow 100$ which you didnt have so you refused but they wanted it now, you told them you didnt have them, you were getting real scared and wanted to run away, you looked behind you to see if it was okay to run or if there was someone you can call for help when all of the sudden someone grabbed you shoulder and demanded the 100$, he grabbed strands of your hair and kissed it saying that you can pay with something else winking at you. the other two 6th graders just laughed and you punched him, you were grossed out. they were shocked, the other 6th grader punched you and it was a full on fight, you could handle two of them but the other was too strong, you just ran off to cartmans house scared.

after you told the story cartman wanted to go and burn the 6th graders house but he hold it in "dont worry, i got this" cartman said to your crying figure on the couch and left the house. you looked dumbfounded but wtv.

(the 6th graders pov)you went home after getting beaten up by some lousy girl, you made sure to make a mental note to meet her tmr. going up the stairs to greet your pet bird, he was your fav thing in the world, you lov- hes dead. what the fuck, your room was trashed, all of your clothing was torn apart and on the floor was a note written on it was (fuck your 100$ bitch) .............

when cartman got back he told everyone to go home and to just play tmr, except you of course you can stay, he acted all tough but he was actually so worried for you, he treated to your bruises immediately, he was surprisingly good, the next day the 6th graders didnt bother you, infact they were scared of you, whatever cartman did you were so thankful

you kissed him and hugged him, he cringed and made puking noises but he loved it, you both knew <3

hope you liked it, cartmans is a bit messy cz i got tired halfway writing all of this sorry!!