#the framed photo in the silver room
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going absolutely insane thinking of how much of a loser reg really is just by the way he decorate his room
#txt#he handpainted his family crest and motto over his bed... i canttt hes so embarrassing#and his lil clippings of voldy on the wall like hes a lovestruck obsessive kpop fan#and his gayass lil sign on his door to keep people out 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭#not even sirius was this much of a loser and he literally hangs up posters of girls in his room and stick em w permanent charms??#the framed quidditch team photo is so cute tho ☺💚💚💚 he loves his teammates#his room being decked in green and silver and slytherin and black motifs... i love it sm#like he loves his family n house so much and believe in their supremacy and greatness like my goddddd yall r capital L losers#lil reg really is just a lil dumb little loser (affectionate)
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Friends, past and present
#Squid Ink Spaghetti AU#Snow on Mt. Silver#Glitchy Red#Lost Silver#Insomnia Silver#Blake definitely kept that little photo; probably has it framed in his room somewhere#His Octarian Army days may be far behind him and things are much better for him but he still treasures the memories :3#Side note: I really love how they actually look slightly younger in the polaroid#I say when I'm the one who drew the dang thing LOL#Doodle dump#Ceebie draws
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Unveiling Joy: A Comprehensive Guide To The Top Trending Baby Products And Home Decor Items At Beliram Online Store
Introduction
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Customer Reviews - A Parent's Perspective
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The enchanting Noah's Oak Photo Frame has found a place in many homes, with customers commending its timeless design and quality build. Through these reviews, gain a deeper understanding of how Beliram's commitment to excellence resonates with the parenting community, making it a trusted choice for baby products and home decor.
Unveiling New Arrivals
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Stay ahead of the curve with the latest photo frames that boast innovative designs and materials. Explore new thematic additions to the nursery decor, offering a wide array of options for parents who want to create unique and personalized spaces for their little ones.
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Conclusion
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#baby products#home decor items#photo frames#beliram online#house warming gifts#silver decorative items#house warming gift#house decoration items#decorative items for living room#best house warming gifts#beliram#corporate gifts
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cabin.
written for @steddieholidaydrabbles | prompts: cabin | wc: 699 | rating: teen & up | tags: steve pov, steve harrington has a crush on eddie munson, good uncle wayne, sharing body heat, one bed, fluff, getting together
Wayne and Eddie have been so accommodating, so kind, and almost embarrassingly welcoming to him joining their annual ice fishing road trip to Michigan that asking for an extra blanket feels criminal. With how much they’ve opened their arms to him after his parents all but ghosted for the holiday season, he’d rather freeze to death in this fucking cabin than dare to ask for something as stupid as an extra blanket. Besides, the cabin is small enough that he and Eddie are sharing a room; eventually, he’ll come to bed, feel how cold it is for himself, and go grab extra blankets on his own.
He’ll survive for as long as it takes for Eddie and Wayne to finish the spaghetti western they’d been watching when he came to bed.
Steve’s been through worse.
Cool moonlight streams in beneath the thick, plaid curtains and illuminates the far wall, accentuating its wooden details and the knickknacks lining the shelves— a collection of small, handmade stuffed wildlife, framed photos of the lake, books with worn spines well-loved over the years. It’s a quiet space, a sanctuary that Steve’s never had even if he might lose a few toes.
Is the cabin the sanctuary? Or is it the rare time alone with Eddie?
He tries not to think about how many times he’s thought of this over the last couple years, how often he’s laid in bed imagining Eddie coming to bed with him and not just in the ways that make him squirm and sweat. He’s pictured it a hundred times over: Eddie sneaking in beneath the covers, trying not to wake him up but it’s not like Eddie has ever been smooth a day in his life. Steve would wake up from a light sleep, turning over to welcome him in and pull him close, wrinkling his nose against Eddie’s frizzy curls as he buries his face in Steve’s neck. He’d listen to him breathe, feel his body grow heavier and heavier against Steve’s and fall asleep to the even cadence of his heartbeat.
Steve takes a deep breath and shakes his head, focusing instead on the organic spirals and swirls of the logs that make up the cabin walls. With heavy-lidded eyes that grow heavier despite the cold, he traces the markings and imagines patterns and pictures in them the way he had the starts as a kid. One looks like a moose without its antlers, another like an abstract palm tree. He doesn’t find a third one, and falls asleep trying.
When he wakes up a couple of hours later, Steve’s warm.
Extra blankets, soft wool, weigh him down and he sighs into the comforting presence that engulfs him. One tattooed arm rests over his hip and another squeezes beneath his pillow, a hand outstretched with silver rings that cover each finger and gleam in the slivers of light that continue to creep in between the curtains. Blinking his eyes open and biting the inside of his cheek to make sure he’s not dreaming, Steve realizes the warmth he’d woken up chasing is Eddie.
Do I move over? Does he realize I’m not a pillow? Does he actually want this the way I want this? Did I die of hypothermia after all? Does he—
“You think really loud, Steve,” Eddie whispers into the dark, his lips moving against Steve’s hair as he squeezes him gently around the middle. “Is this okay?”
“Mhm,” Steve hums. “You’re so warm.”
“Good, you were shivering when I came to bed.” He feels Eddie chuckle behind him, quiet breaths against his neck. He wants to turn around, to tuck himself into Eddie’s comfort and maybe just never leave.
“Didn’t wanna bother you or Wayne for another blanket. Kinda glad I didn’t now,” Steve admits, words slurring as his shoulders sag. He wiggles back, trying to get impossibly closer.
“We’ll talk more about that in the morning.” Eddie squeezes a knee between Steve’s and tangles their legs together.
Steve nods wordlessly, pulling the top blanket further up beneath his chin.
The last thing he remembers before drifting back to a dream that has no chance of rivaling reality is the feeling of Eddie’s lips against his temple.
#steddie#steddie fanfiction#steddie fanfic#steddie fic#steve harrington x eddie munson#eddie munson x steve harrington#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fic#steddieholidaydrabbles#myblurbs#missed a few days because life but i'm baaaaack!!#will i ever move these to ao3? who's to say
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100+ angelic christmas gift ideas
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˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
i adore christmas - its one of my favourite holidays! so beautiful and wintery, the lights and decorations, mugs of hot chocolate, childhood memories and so many traditions make it such a special time of year for me. i however, often struggle with knowing what to ask for or what i want for christmas, so i created a little inspo list to help me and anyone else! whether this is for a family member, friend, partner or even yourself im sure this will help you know exactly what you want (or at least give you some pointers in the right direction). these are all obviously just suggestions and vary in price so please put down in the comments what you are asking for this year! enjoy angel!!
uggs
victoria secret pjs
cozy fluffy socks
laneige lip balm
lush body lotions
rose quartz gua sha
glossier makeup
dior lip oil
sonny angels
yoga mat
silk pillowcases
litre water bottle
candles
jelly cats
cute claw clips
ear warmers
books
cute planner
posters or tapestries
camera
philosophy body washes
makeup bag
sylvanian baby blind bags
slippers
matcha
records or cds
five minute journal
desk or wall calendar
eye mask and bonnet
fluffy blankets
large candles
benetint lip tint
rare beauty products
cuticle oil and glass nail file
gold jewellery
silver jewellery
knee high boots
colourful/printed tights
pocket mirror
mugs
house plants
hair band or cute hair clips
gisou hair products
highlighters
charlotte tilbury makeup
pretty nail polishes
salt lamp or other lamp
tea bags (chai, green etc)
wallet or purse
bag charms
dyson hair wrap
your fave chocolates
makeup bag
quilt
vintage room decor
fluffy/patterned rug
new phonecase
slippers
headphones
rings
belt
portable speaker
crystals
fuzzy scarf and gloves
patterned tote bag
dried flowers
fairy lights
jewellery box or trinket dish
photo album
bath oils
incense
locket
bows or pretty scrunchies
sunglasses
mini crates or storage boxes
lululemon clothes
new bedsheets
laptop case
cute pillows
hair curlers
alarm clock
vintage/thrifted clothes
picture frames
snowglobes
miniature trinkets
personalised charm bracelet
makeup brushes
diffuser
face masks
lego
coffee table books
skims
tea infuser
reusable straw
warm jacket
sports bag
keyrings
jumpers
heels
charity donation
thank you so much for reading angels! this season is such a wonderful time of year because of the ideas and ethos surrounding it; one of giving. this winter should be about our loved ones and those in need. whether you do something as simple as donating old clothes to charity or making christmas cards for the homeless, i would encourage everyone (myself included) to make it their mission to give back in at least one way. remember - angels are kind and generous inside and out! as we plan our gifts or think about shopping and the fun things to come let’s all take a moment to reflect on how we can give back.
love, m.
p.s it’s never too early for christmas!
𓂋
˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
#becoming that girl#girlblogging#girlhood#it girl#just girly things#it girl energy#that girl#pink pilates princess#christmas#pink aesthetic#pink christmas#gift ideas#wish list
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𓏲࣪ ִֶָ ︎ִֶָ SOUND OF PRADA 𖤐. — nishimura riki.
(๑>◡<๑) ৎ୭ nishimura riki + fem! reader idol au established+secret relationship inspired by the prada pics 𐙚 warning explicit suggestive content explicit make-out scene implied suggestive ending belt-pulling drinking. . !? & 3072 — m.list
note. yes, im using the same title as the heeseung version because i can't be bothered to come up with a new title lmao. @riekiss
Draped in a sleek Prada dress that shimmered under the golden lights, you stepped out of the car, waving your hand at the public as you took the lead down the red carpet. Your fellow group members followed behind you, moving in a neat and orderly line. Cameras flashed nonstop without stopping, capturing your stunning appearance until you entered the club where another wave of cameras had been awaiting you. Upon the staff’s instruction, all of you had to take a few individual and group photos before you could fully enter. Once that was done, all of you moved to the bar.
Eyes flickered across the crowded room, searching for a face you knew too well. It had been too long since you had seen him, since shared moments were reduced to texts and fleeting video calls. The memory of Riki’s playful smirk and the warmth of his dark eyes washed over you like a whispered secret. And then, as if conjured by the force of your thoughts, you saw him—entering the club with his members. You were captivated by his figure, watching as he confidently moved through the crowd with Heeseung resting a hand on his shoulder.
You find it adorable with how Riki’s face brightened up the moment his eyes locked onto yours. He exchanged a few quick words with Heeseung before quickening his pace, wanting to be near you as soon as possible. Your members shared a mischievous giggle when they saw the rapidly approaching figure and left you alone, not before sending you a teasing wink. You did not have sufficient time to react when you were embraced in a bone-crushing hug from your partner. You returned the gesture, briefly running your hand through his neatly-styled hair.
It was with reluctance that he pulled away but he remained close, close enough that you could see the mischief and happiness dancing in his eyes. “Fancy seeing you here.”
You raised an eyebrow, biting back a grin. “Oh? I could say the same, Mr. Prada’s favorite ambassador.”
Riki chuckled, the sound making your heart stutter. “Well, I had to dress up nicely since I’ll be seeing you again.”
His gaze roamed over you, taking in every detail of your outfit. The fitted satin dress in black hugged your frame, its off-shoulder design showcasing your collarbones and delicate silver necklace; the very same necklace he had gifted you on your first date. The slit along one side revealed just a hint of leg, giving you an air of elegance tempered with a touch of daring. His eyes softened at the sight, a flicker of admiration and something more intense sparking as he took in the way the fabric shimmered under the lights.
Before he could say a word, you smirked and stepped closer, hooking your finger through the belt hoop. The action made him freeze, eyes widening slightly as he shifted his gaze back to yours.
“Stop staring at me like that, pretty boy,” you said, voice playful.
A lopsided grin broke out on Riki’s face, the tips of his ears turning faintly red. “Can’t help it,” he murmured, leaning in so his words ghosting against your ear. “You make it impossible not to.”
His grin softened into something deeper, his gaze searching yours as he took a step closer. The chatter and music around you seemed to blur into white noise. His eyes darted down to your lips, a flash of longing darkening his features. Without another moment’s hesitation, he leaned in, closing the space between you with desperation that made your breath hitched.
You rested your hands on his broad shoulders, having to tilt your head up slightly to meet his eager lips. Riki rested one hand on your waist, drawing circles through the fabric of your dress. The heat of his breath mingled with yours, the brush of his lips igniting sparks in your stomach. He cupped your jaw gently, fingers tracing the line of your cheek. Shivers ran down your spine when he bit down on your bottom lip, aggressively shoving his tongue down your throat as he pushed you back until you were pinned against the wall.
Thankfully, the both of you are in a secluded corner of the club but that does not mean your current position remains completely unseen from the public. Both of you knew you will get a good scolding from your respective managers tomorrow and how the entire internet will have a breakdown if they caught wind of your relationship. Between the two of you, you have a sense of responsibility but with how Riki was practically sucking the air out of your lungs, you could not find it in yourself to stop him.
Instead, you allowed him to take as much as he pleased. A whine was ripped out from your throat when Riki explored your mouth, as if he had been starved for a month. You were starting to feel light-headed and breathless, your lungs begging for oxygen. But no matter how you tried to pull away, he kept chasing after your lips, as if he could not get enough of your sweet taste. You tugged on his hair, trying to get him to stop but he refused, your action eliciting a pleased groan that does wonder to your heart.
Eventually, he took mercy and stopped ravaging you with his lips. His previously neatly-styled hair was now messed up. His plump lips were swollen and red. There was nothing but desire written all over his face as he greedily drank in your current state. Riki grabbed your wrist, pulling you through the crowd and to where the backdoor is.
“Where are we going?” You asked, despite already knowing the answer.
He shots you a smirk over his shoulder. “Somewhere quiet and without eyes prying so I can continue kissing you.”
#ꨄ writings#enhypen imagines#enhypen x reader#nishimura riki imagines#nishimura niki x reader#riki x reader#riki x you#riki x y/n#nishimura niki#ni ki x reader#ni ki x you#ni ki imagines
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Farmhouse Kids - Kids Room
#Large kids' room photo of a country girl with a light wood floor and blue walls. framed music#silver wallpaper#flower wallpaper#white bedding#shower curtain#silver nightstands#blue and white tile
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A little bday drabble that's very self-indulgent cause I've had a bad week :)
Not paired with anyone in specific, I wrote it with my comfort characters in mind
"Happy birthday to me.."
You sing quietly to yourself, trying to keep your voice even and the tears at bay. A little cake, made in a mug you use for tea because you didn't have enough to buy a proper cake sat in front of you on the otherwise empty table.
You continued to sing as you light the small pink candle in the dark room, hiccuping as a small cry threatened to escape.. god, of all days. Work was kicking your ass. Your co-workers seemed a bit more harsh in the last few days, but you couldn't think of anything you'd done..
You blow out the candle and pick up your fork, but you don't feel well enough to have a bite of something so sweet..
Knock knock knock
The sound of a key twisting in the lock sounded, and you look over to see the door open, a tall figure standing in the light-filled hall before stepping inside.
"What are you doing in the dark?" His voice was smooth and comforting as always, but tonight, the comfort seemed to make it harder to swallow through the lump in your throat, you're eyes glossing with fresh tears as he walked over, bending to wrap his arms around you from behind the chair, nuzzling his face into your hair.
"What's wrong, baby?" You could only shake your head, because honestly? Nothing was specifically wrong.. everything just seemed like a big deal when it really wasn't.
"I just.. I dunno- everything feels like it's going wrong lately.." your words are hardly above a whisper, holding one of his big hands around you, the warmth giving a sense of calm in the mess that was your mind.
He pressed a kiss to your head, "how much have you eaten today..?"
"..hardly any.." he gave a small sigh but didn't scold you. He simply picked up the fork you left on the table and scooped up a bit of cake to hold up for you to take a reluctant bite.
"..'t's too sweet.."
"Really?" He takes another scoop and takes a bite himself, chuckling when you cringe at the sight of having to share the silverware. A strange dislike of yours, sharing silverware, yet you'd makeout for hours like it was the best taste ever. "Mm, maybe a little. Just take small bites then."
He held another bit of cake up to your lips, smiling softly as you took it into your mouth. He knows you don't see it, but the fondness and love in his gaze has no match. You may think yourself unlovable sometimes, but he couldn't think of anyone who could even come close to how much love he holds for you.
You look up at him when he starts to hum, parting his lips to actually sing the words, "happy birthday to you..~"
You couldn't hold the small giggle while he sang. It was rare to hear, but boy, was it a gift to the ears when he did.
"Ah! There's a smile~!" He poked your cheek, a grin of his own painting his beautiful lips. He suddenly lifted a small gift bag to set on the table, "got you something~"
You give him a small look.. you told him not to, but you pull the bag a little closer anyway. Pulling out the tissue paper, you take out a small picture frame, a small smile tugging your lips when you see your favorite photo together in such a pretty decorated frame.
"Thank you.." he smiles and rests his chin on top of your head. "I had the frame custom made. Y'know how many shops I had to visit to find the perfect material~?"
You chew on your bottom lip, blinking away the tears that stung your eyes again, "there's one more thing."
You reach into the bag one more time and pull out a small ring box.. you try to turn your head to look up at him, but he doesn't let you, "open it."
You pull the box open, and there sat two simple silver rings, "they're promise rings.." he explained while sliding his hands from around you to the box, pulling one of the rings out and taking your hand. "..cause I promise I'll be here for every single birthday. Every year." His voice is smooth in your ears as he slides the ring on, a perfect fit, but he knew that.
Hiccuping with silent tears falling, you can only watch him slip the second ring onto his finger to match.
He hugs you tightly again, suddenly pulling you up from the chair to hold you in his arms, making you giggled through your tight throat.
"God, I love you so much." He sets you on your feet and lets you turn around to face him. Looking into his pretty eyes, you smile as he wipes your tears and pulls you a little closer.
"Love you too.. even more.." he grins, holding your chin between his fingers to tilt your hear a little, drawing you in. "Nah, I don't think so."
You close your eyes and lean in the rest of the way to meet him in a sweet kiss, your arms lifting to wrap around his neck while he holds your hips.
Maybe it isn't such a bad birthday after all..
#x reader#neuvillette x reader#genshin neuvillette#sunday x reader#sunday hsr#sung jinwoo x reader#dan heng x reader#dan feng x reader#xiao x reader#gojo x reader#uh.. that's all I think#yuuta x reader#jjk x reader#hsr x reader#genshin x reader#solo leveling x reader
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illicit affairs II l.williamson x reader
votes are in and it's romantic szn, this is as much as my tiny brain can handle rn enjoy x
★ illicit affairs II l.williamson x reader
you jumped and let out a yelp as you heard somebody rap their hand roughly against your front door, the familiar voice of your sister ringing through the entrance as she twisted her keys into the lock and popped the door open quicker than you could even get yourself off the couch.
"mil! i told you to return those keys last week!" you groaned in annoyance, snatching the silver piece out of her hand before she could slither it away and tucking it into your backpocket with a shake of your head. the older blonde giving you an amused look before she made her way to your kitchen.
"just let yourself inside, no worries! it's not like i was in the middle of something!" you muttered sarcastically, pushing the door closed behind you as you followed your sister who had apparently decided that she was now entitled to entering your home whenever she wanted.
"oh sis! how wonderful for you to invite me over for dinner!" she cheered, yourself surprised at her sudden appearance as she enfluged you in a tight hug. "hi mil." you wheezed, using your hands to push yourself further away as she restricted your breathing.
"how are you?" she asked, grabbing your shoulders in her hands as she stepped backwards. "i'm doing good, why are you here mil?" you laughed and she only confirmed your suspicion with the way she danced around or more like ignored your question.
"you've really made this place up haven't you?" camilla admired as she walked around your living area, pausing to take note of the time you had clearly spent cleaning up your apartment over the summer break. the small decorations and framed photos that littered your house catching her eye as she filtered through the living room.
the last time your sister had been over was when you'd just moved out your childhood home and the place was filled to the ceiling with unpacked boxes and unpackaged furniture, which meant she promptly left accordingly when she saw your pleading eyes for her to help you carry some heavy things up the front steps.
"thank you? what are you really doing here camilla?" you questioned as camilla took priority on your couch, popping her sneakers up on the sofa, before you could push the dirty soles off as you grimaced at how in a total of five minutes your sister had completely ruined what was meant to be a lovely afternoon at home by yourself.
"what? your favourite sister can't come over just to see you? i don't always want something, i promise you!" she frowned, looking at you expectantly as she patted down the spot next to her. "mhm okay." you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest as you took the spare place on the sofa.
"first of all, you're my only sister. and second of all, you always want something from me, mil. spill it." your sister tutting as she batted her eyes in innocence, the girl notorious for always coming over to your flat with less than desirable intentions for things you most certainly were not in the right mind for to even entertain.
"fine i'll be honest. there's an event on at the sapphire and i planned to go with a friend from work but she messaged me saying she's gone down with the flu from the kids she was looking after and i need a fast replacement." the blonde rambled on, moving to sling her arm around your shoulder as you gave her an unimpressed look.
"and i thought it would be nice if you came with me instead?" she grinned, smiling as if you would magically agree to go to a bar you hadn't visited in years and in reason, squeezing your shoulder which only made you roll your eyes as you sat back up against the head of the couch.
"so let me get this straight, mil. you broke into my apartment to drag me off to some bar because your coworker went down with the flu and you have no other friends to go with?" you quirked your head in annoyance as all your sister did was smile and nod eagerly at you.
"pretty much, yeah!" she exclaimed, her smile widening as she rested her head against your shoulder. "you’re unbelievable," you sighed, running a hand through your hair as her eyes pleaded for you to say yes and you knew there was no point in arguing with your sister because history stands she always gets her way.
"come on it'll be fun! we haven't had a night out together in ages!" she said, flashing her eyes desperately as you shook your head knowing that she would get you down to the bar either way.
"fine, i'll come. but no funny business trying to set me up with any of your mates like last time. swear on it mil! " you yelled, pushing your finger into her chest in accusation at the last time she successfully got you out the house.
you let her know how much you appreciated her little dating experiment one last time as she crossed her fingers in the air in promise, your sister casually making her way to your bedroom before you could even register what you had agreed to.
as you walked her towards your room the blonde followed closely behind, already deciding which clothes she remembered you owned that she was going to rummaging through your closet to find.
"what are you doing, mil?" you asked, watching as she pulled out various pieces of clothing that you hadn't seen in ages, opting not to go to any clubs during the last few months and instead putting all your efforts into your new internship that you had moved down to london for.
"helping you find something to wear, of course," she said in an obvious tone, holding up different tops she had brought out from your wardrobe and holding them against your chest. you rolled your eyes as your sister continued to bring clothing piece after clothing piece off the hangers and carelessly throwing the ones she deemed 'not suitable' onto your bedroom floor.
"this would look great on you," she tried to convince you. holding up a tight black dress and a pair of ankle strap heels in her hand that you had probably not worn since you were out partying every free night in your first semester of college. "i can dress myself, you know. i'm not five anymore."
you sighed at her choice of clothing, flopping back down onto your bed when the dress in her arms and the determined look on her face didn't falter, only a few seconds later when the dress in her hands made its way to you as she tossed it over your face.
"great then if you're all grown up you can go put this on yourself and then we can go!"
~
"one strawberry daiquiri please," you ordered at the bar, tapping your phone against the pay machine as the bartender quickly got to work. giving a small smile to the man as he started making your drink you sat down on one of the stools, laying your hands on the table and immediately recoiling your hands from when you felt the stickiness of the counter surface.
"sure thing. you look like you could use something sweet tonight, darling." you nodded with a tight lip, keeping your smile friendly but small enough to signal that you weren't really interested in the man and that he better go try his unhandy pick up lines on another desperate girl tonight. besides he really wasn't your type anyway.
you slumped back into you seat, seeing the obvious guilt in your sister's eyes as she made eye contact with you from across the room. the guy she had met at the door had his arm slung loosely around her waist as they sat together in a barely visible corner by the window, the both of them clearly having had a few drinks and looked hazy as they spoke loud enough for you to hear.
looking around the crowded club although not one you had commonly visited before tonight you felt weirdly comfortable, but it still felt unusual to be back to the scene years later when during your college days you seemed to be here almost every night, chasing after your then boyfriend who came down with his close mates most free evenings.
that relationship had ended in shambles. leaving you with an all to bitter taste for the london nightlife which seemed to had stayed well and truly alive in your time away, as if time hadn't taken it's toll it seemed the same crowd was still hitting the club on a saturday like you could remember.
it was never nice to catch the person you trusted cheating on you only to find out from other club regulars that the affair had been going on for months and they weren't even aware that you were his girlfriend let alone that he had one to begin with.
the betrayal of the guy you had dedicated years of your highschool life to had cut you deep and even now you still found it difficult to fully immerse yourself in relationships that weren't purely just for sexual intimacy and rather deciding to relieve yourself with meaningless hookups and flings to save yourself the tears if somebody decided to break your heart again.
you took one more look at the guy your camilla was still talking to; his curt looks, arrogant smile similar to that of your ex and you couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy at how sure of herself your sister looked and how carefree she looked as she spoke to him.
the scars of your breakup were still fresh on your skin and looking at the man from across the room the memories of those nights spent trying to fix your irreparable relationship came flooding back.
the endless screaming matches, the tearful conversations, and the eventual breakup that had left you unable to feel the need for a relationship again.
"come on, can we dance?" you looked up to see camilla standing in your eyesight, you had clearly missed her walking over as you were so far gone in your thoughts.
the blonde was slightly out of breath and definitely a little tipsy, probably from the fact that as soon as you had entered the building she had been dragged off by the guy she had been stealing air time from for the last thirty minutes, you'd never seen him but he certainly seemed to know your sister.
"really, mil? you've just spent the last half hour with some guy and now you remember me?" you smiled in amusement, adjusting your position at the bar to properly tease the older girl as she almost knocked into the table when she moved closer subconsciously.
"could've sworn you invited me here yourself? or did i dream that?" you teased, poking your sister in the stomach as she declined the bartenders offer for another round with a curt wave of her hand. the blonde shook her head in determination as she continued to coax you out of your seat, her hand sliding around your wrist as she pulled you up.
"oh, come on, sis! it's just for a little fun! you can't spend the whole night sulking over your ex." she decided, grabbing your hand as you lifted the last remains of your drink to your lips and she pulls you away to the dance floor.
~
"leah you're being a stick in the mud! just go find a lay and quit sulking alone with a beer!" beth grinned, slipping her hand around her friends' ice cold bottle as she moved it across the table. "i was drinking that." leah seethed, giving the blonde a dirty look as her other friend, lia passed the pint back to the blonde with a small minded smile.
"besides. there isn't anyone here i want," she shrugged with a shake of her head. the blonde still not able to find a single person in the entire club that she wanted to take home with her, which was not a common occurrence she would find herself in.
the women kept looking more and more painfully straight the more time she spent in the bar and looking even lesser friendly than when she had first walked in.
and men she could quite easily call her mates all only interested in talking to her about football, which generally speaking was fine but the european champion was looking for any excuse to talk about something other than work, but it seemed she didn't have luck on her side tonight.
and it wasn't going to come any faster than her will to stay at the club for any longer as she continued to drink moodily in a booth behind the dance floor, the dance floor she would certainly not be hitting tonight.
admittedly it wasn't difficult for the english skipper to have a different hook up almost every night and it wasn't an unusual scene for her to have a meaningless hook up running out the back door of her apartment, heels in hand and a skimpy dress from the previous night pulled haphazardly across their chest as they tried to escape the discomfort after what would have been incredible sex had brought in the morning.
the blonde had clocked up quite the reputation at the small pub she and her friends were drinking at tonight and if it wasn't for her taken saturday nights she knows her free minutes would certainly be spent back at the bar with another random girl she hadn't even caught the name of hanging of her lap like every other night.
but something was off about tonight, as if the looks she'd received when her friends had entered the club were enough to tell her that she was known, and it probably wouldn't be as easy for her tonight as it had been the last.
beth leaned over to leah's side with a mischievous grin, her eyes trying to communicate with the blonde although she definitely could not understand what her friend was trying to say. the english woman gave her a raised brow, wondering what beth was up to as she cornered even closer.
the blonde leaned in even closer to leah, her breath fanning against her captain's ear as she pointed towards your hard to look at lonely self sat at the open bar. "what about that one? she's cute and alone and possibly waiting for somebody?" beth suggested, her voice dripping with intent as she nudged leah out of her seat with an insistent push that almost had her falling over.
leah followed beth's eyes, eventually taking in the sight of you sitting by yourself, looking ever so lost in thought as you traced patterns with your nails into the sticky counter beneath your drink, somehow entertained by the small indents that in made into the rough wooden surface.
"cmon. don't go fucking waitresses like usual, she's beautiful lee." beth pressured, nudging her friend when she tried to shrink further down into her seat.
"i don't know, beth." leah replied, glancing at the woman across the room. she really did think you were so gorgeous and maybe that was the thought in the back of her mind stop her from going up to a pretty girl like she usually would. "yes you are, she's exactly your type and she's all alone waiting for her charmer."
the younger blonde sighed, setting her beer down on the table in front of her friends with a resigned thud. "fine, i'll go talk to her," leah muttered, rolling her eyes at beth's triumphant smile and the way she wiggled her eyebrows in encouragement of the footballer finally getting up to talk to a girl like she usually would be found doing so.
straightening her jacket and running a hand through her hair, the blonde made her way over to you, her earlier moodiness dissipating as she approached you and could see your face clearer. noticing the distant look in your eyes and the way you seemed to be in your own world, not even glancing up when she stood in front of you.
leah cleared her throat to get your attention, offering a cocky smile as you finally looked up. "hey, i'm leah." she said, her voice dripping with confidence as she started a conversation you were clearly not looking for. "you're not a regular here are you? just coming down to check out the scene?"
you raised an eyebrow, barely hiding your disinterest in the blonde woman in front of you as she so easily read you like a book. "and if i'm not? do you know something i don't?"
leah leaned closer to you, her smile widening, her minty breath lightly fanning your skin. "just trying to figure out why a girl as gorgeous as you is sitting alone on a night like this one. it's not often I see someone like you in a place like this."
"well, aren’t you charming," you replied. your tone as cool as the drink in your hand. "but flattery won’t get you very far with me. i'm sorry but i'm not really interested." leah chuckled, her grin barely faltering at your words as she sat down next to you, silently signalling to the bartender for a refill of her empty glass, the man only nodding with a sneer as he watched her easily start a conversation with you.
"well, pretty girl." leah began, her eyes sharpened on your face as she tried to take in each any feature. "i promise you're not the first to underestimate how good i am and most of london can confirm that one for you."
"you’re not wrong, i've seen that you make your way around." you admitted, a slight smirk tugging at your lips despite yourself barely knowing anything but the girl's first name, you still found it humorous as she raised a brow in surprise.
"though i’m not sure your special charm is going to cut it tonight." you pouted demeaningly, watching as her jaw tensed and her eyes shifted cockily to her right.
leah tilted her head to the side, a smirk of her own playing on her lips as she shifted closer, her hand resting closely next to yours. "oh, is that so?" she gave you her own pout back, grinning when she watched your eyes swell in her direction again.
"well, you don’t strike me as a woman who turns down a good challenge. what do you say we test that one at home?" you eyed her skeptically, noticing the cocky gleam in her eye.
"are you always this confident at getting women into your bed, or is it just me?" you questioned, as the blonde's drink was finally read and she reached her hand over the bar to retrieve it from the bartender's hand.
"just you, darling." leah said, her smile widening as she finally slid her hand comfortably over yours and you let her lock your fingers together as she brought your entwined hands closer to her body.
"tempting offer." you smile, leaning back into the table and crossing your arms over chest. "but i’m not sure you’ve got what it takes to take me home tonight, leah." leah's eyes darkened, her grip on your hand tightening slightly as she leaned in closer, the warmth of her body radiating towards you.
her lips curled into a knowing smirk, her breath brushing your cheek as she whispered in your ear. “is that a challenge, baby? don't think i could handle you?” and you swore your heart may have fallen right there, her lips brushing against your ear as she pulled back to meet your reddened face.
you tilted your head slightly, eyes narrowing as you studied her face her piercing blue eyes that seemed to see right through you, the slight tilt of her chin that hinted at a confidence you were sure had been built from countless nights like this.
there was something undeniably magnetic about her, something that made it hard to look away from her perfectly sculpted face as she stared hard, begging you to look into her eyes even as your mind screamed at you to keep your distance.
“maybe it is challenge.” you replied steadily, though you felt the faintest flutter in your chest that threw you off, a feeling you weren’t quite prepared for as she took your response as a means to keep testing the waters.
you pulled your hand away from hers, the loss of contact making you feel strangely lonely, but you quickly masked it by wrapping your fingers around your glass, bringing it to your lips to take a slow sip.
“so, do you usually get what you want?” you asked, your voice teasing, but there was genuine curiosity beneath it. leah’s eyes sparkled with that recent mischievous glint, and she leaned in just a little, closing the space between you and looking straight into your eyes.
“more often than not.” she said bluntly, her voice poisoning you a dare that you couldn't help but accept. “but i’m always up for a bit of a challenge. keeps things interesting.”
you felt your breath catch, the intensity of her gaze on your body making you lose your focus and you find yourself stumbling to answer back. “i bet it does.” you mumbled before picking up your glass.
leah’s eyes flickered to your lips as you drank, her gaze lingering on the way your mouth curved around the rim of the glass, and she flickered her eyes away when you looked back at her, a gesture that didn’t go unnoticed by you.
“what do you do for work, pretty girl?” leah asked, her voice softer now, the cocky edge replaced by her genuine tone as she tried to make conversation with you.
she leaned back slightly, giving you space that wasn't nearly appreciated as much as she thought it was, in fact you missed the feeling of her touch on you from only a few moments ago when her hand was wrapped with yours.
“i’m in marketing,” you replied, your voice calm, though a small part of you wanted to reach out, to reclaim her hand and never let it go. you couldn't deny the feelings this mystery woman was making you feel since the moment she had sat down next to you.
“nothing too exciting, really. mostly just trying to convince people to buy things they probably don’t need.” leah’s lips quirked up in a small smile as she listened to you.
“sounds like you’re pretty good at it,” she admired, the blonde enjoying your company more than she initially thought she would. “i bet you can be pretty persuasive when you want to be.”
you couldn’t help but return the same smile, a low laugh escaping your lips. “i’ve had some practice.” you admitted, the relaxed edge creeping back into your voice as you allowed yourself to settle next to her, to let the conversation flow naturally even if you had some nerves.
“but i’m guessing you’re no stranger to persuasion yourself.” leah shrugged, “comes with the territory.” she replied, but there was something more beneath her words, something you just couldn't figure out.
“i play football," she told you, leaving out the part that she played for one of the biggest and most famous football clubs in europe and was a regular player for her country.
you found yourself studying her, noticing the subtle signs, trying to pinpoint whether she was interested in you, or if this was the same old ploy just to get you into bed with her. the way her shoulders were so defined caught your eyes, the slight marks on her hands, the way she carried herself. all the while, she watched you with curiosity, as if waiting to see how you’d react to being caught staring.
“football, huh?” you noted, “so that’s where the persuasion skills come from. contracts, trying to get the ball passed up the line, that sort of thing?” leah chuckled at your mocking words, her eyes narrowing playfully as she tilted her head in amusement. “something like that,” she replied.
“you know,” leah began, her voice falling lower, “this place is nice and all, but..” she trailed off, her gaze sliding over to the dance floor where people swayed drunkenly to the loud music, lost in their own world of liquid sourced endorphins.
“you want to dance?” you asked, trying to keep your tone casual, but there was no hiding the eagerness in your voice as you locked eyes with the footballer.
“something like that,” leah said with a grin, her hand reaching out to you again, fingers brushing against yours as she pulled you out of your seat, guiding you through the stream of drunken people.
as you found a spot among the other dancers, leah pulled you closer, her ands settling on your waist, the other still holding yours. the music thrummed around you, a steady beat that matched how rapidly your heart was pounding as she snaked her fingers into the cut at the back of your dress.
she was fucking intoxicating and you felt yourself drown in her scent as she pulled your face into her neck, swaying you to music that had slowed significantly since getting on the floor. you let the music guide you, the scene around you reduced to a blur of lights and sound and you ignored it.
leah’s fingers pressed gently against your back, her hands falling down to the curve of your ass as she grinned cheekily and kissed your cheek.
as the song reached its end, leah leaned in close to your face, her lips close to your ear, her breath warm against your skin. “want to get out of here, darling?” she whispered, the words carrying an invitation that sent a shiver down your spine as you thought about what the next few hours would entail.
you pulled back slightly, just enough to look into her eyes, searching for any hint of hesitation that you had read her wrong in the slightest way, but all you saw was that same confident look on her face, only this time her eyes were full of lust.
“yeah,” you breathed out, an excited smile tugging at your lips.
“take me home with you, leah.”
#woso x reader#leah williamson#woso#woso blurbs#woso community#woso fanfics#leah williamson imagine#leah williamson x reader#woso imagine
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Death Wish 7
Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, violence/abuse and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: mob!Bucky Barnes
Part of the mob drabbles au
Summary: you’re desperate for a way out of your life and you ask a powerful man for help (plus!reader)
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
Photo Inspo
There’s no casket for the funeral. In this neighbourhood, that’s expected. After the usual affair at the church, all are invited back to the house to pay their respects. You put the only picture you have of your father on the mantel; his wedding photo.
You dress in black but not for your father. You’re mourning your sisters. Yourself. You dress in sombre slate for the uncertainty of it all. The colour is as dark as your guilt. You brought this fear upon them.
You didn’t think about any of this. Barnes was entirely right in that regard. You didn’t think any of it out. You weren’t thinking at all. You were angry and tired. Now, it’s done and there’s no going back to what was. You don’t truly want to do that but you don’t see a path ahead that’s much better.
The people there are there because it’s expected. They are your father’s associates. Not family or friends. Funerals are part of their job description.
You walk numbly from room to room. You haven’t cried. You haven’t had a tear for your father in years. You try to make yourself look distraught but all you feel is empty.
Adrienne sways between bouts of bawling and soft sniffles. Kitty is stronger. She busies herself with the flowers and thanks every guest for attending. You accept their condolences but offer little in return.
You’re all just pretending. You’re acting like you’ll miss him. You won’t. Even if your sisters are stunned and just as scared as you, you know they aren’t sad. You all wished for this the very night before the envelope showed up. The night that you... killed him.
You sit in one of the mismatched chairs set out to accommodate the guests. The neighbours lent some of their own for the event. You are worn through. You haven’t slept more than an hour at a time since you pulled that trigger.
You won’t tell yourself it’s regret, you were never more certain of anything in your life. No, you know exactly what it is. Dread. You have a debt to pay.
A figure appears in the open door. You see him through the archway of the front room. You stand as the new arrival stops just within the frame. A slow hush rolls over each guest. You look at Kitty as she glances over from the tray of cookies she spent all night making. She sees him too.
Your older sister goes to Adrienne and touches her shoulder. The youngest lifts her head and peers up as all attention aims at the arched doorway. Barnes fills it easily. He looks around. His suit seems blacker than usual.
It isn’t a surprise. He’s the boss. He’s expected to see his men off. He nods at you, then your sisters. You go to them, standing with Kitty behind the sofa as she keeps her hand on Adrienne.
“Please,” Barnes waves your younger sister from standing. “Stay. I’m sure it’s been a long day. I’ve only come to pay my respects.”
He looks between you all then sidesteps the couch. He goes to the mantle and considers the wedding photo. He bows his head and reaches into his jacket. He sets a silver coin in front of the frame. It’s an old tradition. Back in the 30s, people would leave pennies on the church altar to help pay for the burial.
He takes a deep breath and backs up. He turns to face the room. The people in it might be familiar but they are just as much strangers to you as someone on the street. They don’t care about you, they don’t even care about your father. They’re only there because that’s what you do.
“Thank you all for coming. You may go,” Barnes says.
There’s a moment of hesitation. Then, the men in suits and their wives, shuffle out obediently. Kitty grabs her hand and squeezes Adrienne’s shoulder. You watch the man they call the king.
When the room is empty, he goes to shut the front door. He returns and stands just inside the archway. He peers around again.
“Your father died as one of mine, that means you’re all under my protection. Consider the casket paid for,” he says.
“Thank you, Mr. Barnes,” Kitty says. “That’s very generous.”
“I do it for all my men. I try not to lose too many,” he replies grimly. “I want you girls to tell me if you need anything. Got it?”
Adrienne smothers a sob and nods frantically. Kitty hushes her and leans in to pet her head. You stand staunchly beside them, staring at him. His eyes cling to you.
“Catch your breath, doll,” Barnes says. “Calm her down.” He points at Kitty then you, “Your daddy got a gun safe?”
You look at your sisters. You can see the glisten in Kitty’s eyes. She’s good at taking care of people. You’re not. Adrienne needs her. You did this. You gotta deal with it.
“Yeah, upstairs,” you answer as you step around the couch.
Barnes waits until you’re level with him before he turns. He lets you lead him out and follows you to the second floor. You take him to your father’s bedroom and push the door open. You can’t go inside. You were never allowed. Not unless you wanted a taste of your father’s belt.
“I don’t know the code,” you say.
“That’s fine. Just needa know it’s here. I’ll have my men sort that out,” he rocks on his feet. “We needa talk.”
You nod.
“Privately,” he glances over at the staircase.
You look at your father’s door and take a step back, “not in there.”
“Right, wherever you like,” he shows his palm indifferently.
You turn and guide him to your room. You pause before you let him inside. You’re embarrassed as he enters. Your basket of laundry is overflowing and your makeup is still strewn all over from your erratic morning.
He paces around your bed and you shut the door. He’s quiet. So are you. The tension is enough to make you squirm. You just want him to come out and say it.
“It’s me. I owe you. Not my sisters--”
He raises his index finger. “You do.” He stops and faces you. “And so did your daddy. He had his hands in my pockets. Deep. I coulda had him done for that. Coulda done it myself. Then I thought about it. I do that, I brand him a thief, and what does that mean for his girls?”
You stare at him, chest aching as your heart pounds.
“The house and what he actually brought in, it isn’t close to even with what he took,” he crosses his arms, setting his feet flat. He lifts his chin. “I really shoulda done it myself but you wanna know why I didn’t?”
You can’t talk. He’s toying with you. You look down at the floor as if you might see your sisters through the boards.
“Ah, eyes up here,” he comes closer until he’s right in front of you. Your eyes flick up and wet with tears. Finally. “I wanted to know if you would do what needs to be done. If when the hammer comes down, that you won’t crack.” His eyes flick up and down and he sucks his teeth. “You didn't. You didn’t fucking flinch either.”
“He deserved it,” you whisper, voice wobbling.
“I know he did, doll. And I know you deserved to do that,” he says. “And what I saw that night, I never seen that before. That’s a woman with steel in her gut. The kinda woman a man like me needs.”
Your forehead creases in confusion. You don’t know what he means.
“You want me to... take over for my dad? I can’t--”
“Ha, no, no,” he startles you as he brings his hand up. You flinch and he keeps his hand aloft. His eyes spark and he tilts his palm, gently caressing your cheek as if coaxing a street cat. “This isn’t woman’s work. No, doll, all I want, is you.”
Your eyes round and you shiver against his touch. He smirks.
“And I know, just like in that warehouse, you’re going to do exactly what needs to be done,” his thumb strokes your cheekbone. “For your sisters.”
#bucky barnes#dark bucky barnes#dark!bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#death wish#series#drabble#mob au#au#winter soldier#captain america#avengers#marvel#mcu
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Paper Crowns
Harry Styles x fem!reader
Summery: After finally having some down time after a hectic few weeks, you and Harry finally get around to decorating for the holidays.
“What do you think?”
My gaze was drawn to the thick, red and green stockings hung over the mantle, embroidered with the first initials of our respective names. Along the brick hung thick ropes of tinsel spread through the deep green garland with pops of red cranberries scattered throughout.
But the real show stopper hadn’t been the festive rugs, or the seasonal mugs, or the extravagant lights Harry and I had woken up bright and early to hang all across the roof and the gutters, but the tall tree that sat squished in the corner of the living room, a small blanket wrapped around the base of the tree and a thick pine-y smell wafting through the house.
It was decorated with a mixture of ornaments and garlands that shouldn’t have mixed, but due to the extreme randomness of the assortment, it felt all too perfect. Each ornament was a souvenir of a shared experience or memory that tied to places that expanded down the Western and Eastern coasts of the United States all the way to the beach-y shores of Australia. Some were collected from our families, old art projects from our early school days, or framed family photos that we used to find embarrassing as children.
There was crumpled up tinsel in all different colors and red and silver and blue and yellow ribbons swirling around the branches. But right on top, sat a beautiful, golden star that shined so brightly, it put all the other sparkling things to shame. And it felt so much like home, I felt like the grinch. My heart had grown three sizes bigger.
“It’s perfect, Har.” I complemented, vaguely aware of the comforting of his hand resting against my hip, pulling me closer to him as we shared a small space in the center of the room.
He smelled of shaving cream and vanilla, and he was as warm as the crackling fire by our feet. We’d spent so much time together, running around in private so that one day, we could both return to the spotlight. Harry now adorned a scruffy mustache, one I was familiar with, and one he had previously grown out during the lockdown a few years back. In this light, one could forget that he was Harry Styles, because under our shared roof, he was simply Harry. Nothing more, nothing less.
“M’glad we found time to do this together this year.” I spoke softly, my eyes flickering from the shiny decorations to the deep greens of his eyes. Only to find that the entire time, he hadn’t been admiring our work the same way I had, but rather he hadn’t been stuck looking only at me.
“Me too.”
In previous years, though Harry and I were both granted a few days off from our hectic work schedules to enjoy the holidays with family, the weeks leading up to it never seemed to synchronize. But, a bare home is a sad one, so when eventually, snow began to turn into slush and our house looked eerily dark compared to the other houses around the block, one of us would end up setting up the house in the quiet, letting the moon be our company while the other was far away attending to their own problems.
This year was different. Harry wasn’t touring, and the album had been finalized a long time ago. As for me, I had finished press for all my movies, and the premieres had come and gone. I could spend my days laying at home now, tucked beneath a blanket with the satisfaction that it had all washed over, and I had the pleasure to bask in the glory, not in Time Square or the heart of Los Angeles, but beneath the covers with my head pressed against my lovers chest, sighing out in total bliss.
“Theres only one more thing for us to do.” Harry smiled, leading me across the cold wooden floors to the dining room, which had been pre-set with all the plates and cutlery for our eventual guests that would roll in on Christmas morning.
Next to each plate lay a large paper tube shaped in something close to the appearance of a bow. Christmas Crackers, is what Harry called them. Cardboard-like things that were meant to be pulled apart like a wishbone, a harmless game where the winner of the larger half would win a small prize.
I smiled, leaning my hip against the table and watched as he leaned across the table cloth to grab one of the spare crackers that sat in the center of the table next to the stacks of candles.
“What do I win if I get it?” I asked softly, grabbing the end of the game firmly between my fingers.
“Is the prize not enough?” Harry laughed, his eyes crinkling happily as he bared all his teeth in his smile.
“How about a kiss. Just to satisfy my cold heart.” I teased, and he didn’t argue. We both knew that despite the result, I’d get what I wanted either way. It was Christmas time after all.
“What if I win?” He raised a brow. “What do I get?”
I hummed, watching his grip tighten around the other end, his fingers flexing under the strength of it.
“Anything you want, my love.” I promised him softly, blush rising on both of our warm cheeks at the open promise.
Harry simply nodded with a teasing smirk, counting down softly under his breath, but skipping the two and jumping to three like he often did before his songs.
There was a short battle before a loud pop sounded, and as we looked down at our hands, I was surprised to find the larger half attached to where I held on.
Inside there was a bottle opener shaped like a reindeer. It was dull and already rusting, but it wasn’t really the prize I cared about, not when Harry was already wrapping his arms around me with a loving grin, drunken in his gaze as his eyes locked onto mine.
There was a paper crown too, purple and delicate. His fingers fiddled with the material before slotting it on my head, and pressing his palms against my cheeks.
When he kissed me, I felt warmth expanding in my chest down to my cold feet, and I swore his lips were meant for mine because they fit so damn perfectly against mine every single time.
When he pulled back, it was with a shaky laugh, and a touch of his mouth to the tip of my nose. The moment felt golden, like something I’d stolen from the world, and I was happy to have gotten away with it.
“Merry Christmas, Harry.” I couldn’t help but giggle at the sappiness of it all. The giddy feelings had me reeling, making me forget for a moment that I wasn’t a young girl in love anymore, but the woman that had proudly grown beside him.
“Merry Christmas, love.”
#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x you#harry styles imagine#harry styles fluff#harry styles angst#harry styles#yn x harrystyles
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I saw that the blue lock requests are open again (maybe?)
And...I'm just going to throw this here :
Threesome between Karasu/Otoya and reader. 🙏😔
they both drive me WILD thank u very much for this one
warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, dubcon (they've been clubbing so all a lil drunk!), threesome, pet names (sweetheart, doll, baby etc.), cumming untouched, throat fucking/oral sex (m!receiving), vaginal sex, slight use of a vibrator, choking, dacryphilia, noncon photo taking! — lmk if i missed any!!
words: 1.6k
“I d-don’t do this often…” you whisper, barely able to speak as two pairs of lips decorate your exposed skin in blooming blue love bites. Your skin pimples over from the chill as the air hits the licks and laves left by desperate tongues. Eyes roll pathetically until your eyes are nothing but white, your vision succumbing to the pleasure of being groped and manhandled by not one but two men. You hadn’t expected what was intended to be an innocent night out with your friends to turn into this.
“Yeah? S’that right? You've had two guys bring ya home before, sweetheart?” Karasu smirks as his hands dip to the small of your back; ultimately deciding to wander in an instant to grip the globes of your ass.
His hands have you reeling as you struggle to decide whether his touch is rough or soft. Perhaps, calculated. He strategically grabs and pulls you closer, almost hypnotising you into raising your leg to wrap around his waist so he can carry you to your bedroom.
Your apartment is silent save for breathy whispers, eager panting and footsteps as Eita searches for your bedroom. His walking halts, a grin and soft chuckle escaping his lips as Karasu gently spreads your ass whilst he holds you. Your body flushes with heat instantly as your sticky pussy following suit and spreading open soon becomes the loudest sound in the fucking apartment.
If you didn’t know better, you’d think there was an echo. The sound repeating incessantly with the sole purpose of humiliating you. It’s dizzying, really, you can barely keep your thoughts aligned as it rings through your ears again and again.
“I meant I don’t bring guys home often,” you say, finally responding to his question in a bid to distract them from the obscene lewdity dampening between your thighs. “I’ve never done this.” you assure them.
“Pretty pussy is soaked already,” Eita smirks. “Where’s your room, gorgeous?”
You point before looking away in shame, your chin soon gently captured by Karasu as he somehow manages to hold your frame with one arm and carry you to where you had pointed. He plants his lips on yours, humiliation soon becoming a distant memory as your hips instinctively roll against the hard on you can feel stirring to life in his pants.
Eita doesn’t shy away from rummaging through your bedside cabinet, distracting you away from Tabito as your attention is piqued. You yelp, quickly, as you feel yourself thrown from him and onto the bed. He eyes you hungrily as he begins to undress, purposefully taking down button after button from his dress shirt. Eita looks over his shoulder with a smirk before he faces you fully, bending down to capture your lips in a searing kiss. His tongue massages yours, and you whine into his mouth pathetically.
“Do you have anything fun we can use to play with you, doll?” he asks, attaching his lips to yours soon after. “If you don’t bring guys back here often, ‘m sure you’ve got some pretty toys.”
You shake your head softly though your skin burns again as you think about your little makeup bag in the top drawer. You’re distracted, momentarily, as Karasu climbs over you again. His pants still on, but unfastened. The peak of his underwear beneath the material makes you all too aware of the sweat beading down your temple.
“T-There’s a bullet… in the glittery silver purse in the top drawer.” you confess, wrapping you arms around Tabito’s neck as you begin to make out once more. You moan into it, it’s so whiny and eager as he begins to rut his hardening cock into your dripping clothed mound.
“Is that all? No wonder you’re so cock hungry if that’s the best you have…” Eita says calmly but retrieves it anyway. You’re barely listening to him, too lost to the feeling of Tabito’s body against your own. He breaks away to dip his fingers beneath the material of your skirt, patience wearing thin as he yanks the black cotton panties from your aroused core.
“Looka that… you’re fucking drenched, sweetheart.” he smirks. He spreads your legs apart roughly and effortlessly moves your body so that his partner in crime can get a better view of your shimmering flesh.
Eita grins as he retrieves the powder blue bullet from the top drawer. Your skin feels electric as you’re put on display, Karasu keeps your legs pried open and your cunt pulses with each breath you take. He’s a tease, too, kissing your inner thighs and taunting you with the notion of placing his lips where you need them most. It’s torture, hearing them both chuckle and tease you as your hole drools more of your tantalising essence.
You wince, but are almost entirely silent as Eita’s heavy hand wraps around your delicate neck. He squeezes, carefully, pushing a button on the vibe until it whirrs loudly. He lowers it to your sex but too far away to feel any benefit. It’s hovering just shy of your clit while he squeezes your throat almost lovingly.
The way they’re both riling you up, you think the way the vibrations adjusting the air currents may be enough to make you cum. He pushes you down by your throat so that you’re flat against the mattress, and your body instinctively begins to jerk.
“Think she’s gonna cum… we’ve barely touched ya, darlin’. Your pretty cunts twitchin’.” Karasu announces. His lips travel up your body and his teeth bite into the seam of your skimpy crop top, pulling upwards until your breasts spill free. He kisses the soft skin before his teeth gently skim your peaked nipple. And, at that, you moan raucously. Otoya still hasn’t granted you the pleasure of the vibration pressed fully against your cunt, and Karasu decides to fuel to fire. His fingers delicately dance against your inner thigh and the crease.
“Fuck!” you cry, their torment becomes too much. You cum practically untouched, your pussy spasming and clenching around nothing as you whine in ecstasy. They both laugh, almost cruelly.
“Desperate little girl… ya really are cock hungry, huh?” Karasu reiterates. “Think we should give it t’her?” you recoil as his heavy palm slaps against your tremoring heat.
“Mmm, move her, want her head hanging over the mattress.” Eita commands. You’re moved with ease, your head lolling over the side of your bed as he looks down at you. Even upside down, you can see a wicked gleam in his eye. He throws his t-shirt over his head and unfastens his jeans. Your eyes almost cross as he reveals his own hardened length.
He's pretty.
Every inch of him is pretty.
He pumps it a few times, pearlescent pre leaking from his slit before he smears it across your lips like gloss. He smirks when you lick them, a sensual bite following soon after as the taste stirs your arousal.
“Dirty girl,” he says. With one hand, he guides his cock into your mouth before wrapping his palm around your throat. He begins to thrust, finally lowering the whizzing vibrator to your pulsating clit. “Ah, fuuuck.” he moans as he feels your throat hum around him.
“Hey,” you flinch as you feel Karasu slap your tits. “Don’t forget who’s gonna cream your pretty cunt, baby.” he says smugly as he guides his thick length to your clenching slot. He throws his head back, the tightness of your warmth hugging him is a sensation close enough to paradise he’d be happy to die right here and now.
“She’s such a little slut, swear she clenched when you said you were gonna fill her up.” Eita smirks, biting his lip as he feels your throat bulge from each roll of his hips. He withdraws his length, cooing as you sputter and drool as he allows your breathing to steady.
You’re almost sobbing, tears spilling from your eyes as Tabito begins to fuck into you furiously, the little toy barely contributing to the overall pleasure you feel.
“Gonna take it, aren’tcha baby? Gonna be my li’l cum whore.” he asks, fingers gripping into your sensitive skin as he continues railing you at a ruthless pace. And you nod, desperately, it’s all you can do as the heady feeling of bliss overwhelms you.
Otoya soon deprives you of your airways again, missing the feeling of your wet throat choking him.
Your body writhes as you feel another orgasm desperate to rip through you. Otoya has abandoned the pathetic little bullet in favour of his own pleasure, it’s all he was ever concerned about anyway.
Karasu moans, almost roaring as his primal instincts take over. He chases his release, and Eita does the same. They can’t help but laugh as you are the first to succumb to it, your little body spasming between them as you get off from being nothing more than their fuck toy.
You feel warm fill you at both ends, Karasu pants heavily as he withdraws his length and watches his seed spill from your cute little hole. Otoya grins as he hears you once again sputter around his length, he pulls away and can’t help but admire your absolutely ruined face as cum dribbles from your lips. Your mascara has smeared so beautifully, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen a more captivating sight.
“Wasted my cum, baby… at least you look cute.”
Instinctively, he pulls out his phone to take a picture of you. Karasu follows suit, taking a multitude of photos of your leaking hole.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. They’re jus’ for us.” Karasu assures you.
Eita squeezes your cheeks until your lips pucker, they’re so swollen and shiny from spit and cum, your little pout has aided to his favourite photo of the night.
“Good job, pretty girl… not through with you though. I want a turn with your slutty little cunt.”
© 2024 rinhaler
#💌 — luxe mail#📨 — requests#bllk#bllk x reader#blue lock imagines#blue lock x reader#otoya eita#eita otoya#tabito karasu#karasu tabito#eita otoya x reader#tabito karasu x reader#otoya eita x reader#karasu tabito x reader#blue lock smut#eita otoya smut#otoya eita smut#tabito karasu smut#karasu tabito smut#bllk smut#bllk x fem!reader#tw dubcon#tw choking#tw dacryphilia
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Can I request an Eddie and roan story where something happens and Eddie is quite vulnerable and upset and roan finds him at the kitchen table so she goes and gets reader to help cheer him up. Hurt comfort
ty for requesting ♡ eddie and roan fem!reader, 1.7k
cw grief
It's a bad idea, but Eddie opens the photo frame on the sill. He moves the small metal holdings aside, peeling away the velvet back to reveal the hidden photograph waiting beneath.
His hands are trembling as he picks it up. The edges are soft but the photo itself is pristine, a perfect polaroid taken from her waist height, angled up as she smiled down.
Eddie puts it back. Closes the frame, sets the photograph right side up on the sill next to your vase. His hands shake as he stuffs them in his pockets, a hard lump aching in his throat. I shouldn't have looked, he thinks to himself, sitting down at the dining table freshly cleared after dinner.
He couldn't not look. As he washed the dishes after dinner, he'd found his gaze drifting. The photo framed is a simple close up of Roan at her last birthday, her face painted pink, purple, and white in the shape of a butterfly with silver glitter accents. The secret photograph is stupid to keep secret, he should put in pride of place, he should be a fucking man about it—
If you could hear his thoughts you'd frown. Maybe do that silly sweet thing with your hand on his cheek and your soft eyes imploring as they look into his. God, Eddie would give you anything you asked for when you look at him like that. But he doesn't tell you about the photograph, how could he? It's his. It's the last bit of her.
He looks down at the wooden grain of the dining room table. Without thinking, he springs to his feet, removes the frames backing, and takes the photograph of his mom into his hand a second time.
She looks so young. Younger than Eddie is now. He must have been a really little kid when he took the photo, old enough to have worked the camera but young enough that he can't remember the moment. Can't remember what she said, what she was laughing about, how that sounded. He can't remember her smell.
How could I forget that? he thinks, stricken.
Eddie ducks his head. He drops back into his chair at the table, pinching the bridge of his nose between a calloused index finger and a softer thumb. Don't, he thinks desperately, even as his thoughts race to a more cruel place. I don't remember her.
She's beautiful in the photo. Willowy and smiling, crouching ever so slightly with a hand braced on her knee. Her lips are curved up a touch and parted with a laugh, but Eddie theories now that she wasn't laughing. Maybe she was telling him something he doesn't remember anymore. Maybe she was telling him that she loved him—
"Dad?"
Eddie hides the photograph without thinking. "Yeah?"
His voice cracks. Roan stares at him with wide eyes, brown as his own but with longer lashes. She's quicker to smile than he was at her age, though none of that lightness shines at present.
"I'll get Y/N," she says hurriedly, spinning on her socked heel and hurtling back the way she came.
"Ro!" he says, clearing his throat. "Fuck. Fuck." He wipes at his wet eyes. Fucking great.
"Y/N!" he hears Roan shout, her panic a raw thing. He can see the look on your face a floor away. "You have to– we have to go help dad!"
There's a lapse in shouting. Eddie would put the photograph away, wipe his eyes, and run to set things straight if he could; you don't deal with abrupt circumstances well and he hates to think of how your heart is racing, but he can't stop crying.
Your footsteps sound and stop at the kitchen doorway.
"Eds. You okay?" you ask.
"I'm fine, I'm," —he starts to laugh, but the laugh turns into crying, everything a mess— "okay. Tell Roan it's okay."
"Okay. Two seconds." Eddie covers his face, trying desperately to get a handle on things as you speak in hushed tones. "It's okay, Ro, alright? How about I put some TV on for you? Would that be good?"
"I want to stay," she whispers.
You pause. Eddie loses bits of time and conversation, wiping madly at his eyes, his head heavy as a bowling ball and aching as though it's been hit by one. Roan must agree to watch TV or at the least pretend to, because you return alone, pushing the table away from him to stand skewiff by his legs.
Eddie feels like he's choking on air. "Sorry."
"Eddie, what's happening, honey?" You touch his shoulder tentatively. "What's wrong?"
He tries to tell you and it hurts worse. Grief is super weird, it always has been (when it wasn't solely and unsympathetically devastating), and Eddie's grief tends to hide away for long periods of time. Like a brewing storm, pressure builds, and builds, and he knew looking at her photo wouldn't end well but she was just so pretty.
He presses his forehead to balled fists.
You sigh like he's hurt you, curling protectively over his hunched back. Your cheek to a heaving shoulder, you rub at his tensed spine with your palm spread. "It's okay," you whisper, hugging him gently. "Sweetheart, it's okay. You have to tell me what's wrong so I can fix it."
"You can't," he says, his voice rough as gravel.
You kiss his shoulder.
A handful of seconds and you pull back to look him in the eye. "Let me try?"
He shakes his head softly, reaching into his lap. He's careful to dry his hands before he picks up his mother's photo, placing it with care on the table. You follow his movements, your lips twitching with understanding as you realise what it is. "That's your mom."
"Yeah, she…"
"I've never seen this one."
Eddie doesn't have many, but he has a few that he treasures. One framed on the living room mantle, four or five kept in safe keeping with Wayne. You nudge the corner of the polaroid to shield it from the glare of the kitchen fluorescents.
"She looks really young."
"She was younger than we are now. She didn't… it couldn't have been five years before she…"
You don't condescend, your empathy palpable as you murmur, "Aw, Eddie. I'm so sorry. It's not fair."
His eyes burn. His nose tickles. He closes his eyes and shoves the brunt of his palm against his socket. "I can't remember what she was trying to say. What kind of son am I?"
"No, no," you crouch down and place your hands on his thighs, "what do you mean? Is that why you're upset? Babe, I can't remember things you said to me last night, you know that? That's not how memory works."
"But it was important. I took the photo, I should remember."
"You were young… I'm sorry, I wish you could remember, but," —you hold the photo up carefully— "with a smile like that, it's not hard to guess, right?" Your voice is smooth and soft as angora silk, though it pills as you continue, "I bet she's just telling you that you're doing a good job. Same way you say it to Ro. You must've gotten it from somewhere."
A half sob shudders out of him. "I hope so."
You pat his thigh. "You gonna be okay?" you ask, eyebrows pinched.
He leans into the chair, the armrests groaning as he tries to breathe. His breath hisses from between his teeth. "Shit, sorry. I'm sorry. I'm alright, just, sometimes I remember she's gone and I realise I lost another little part of her and–"
"It's okay." You stroke a strand of hair from his face. He relaxes at the simplicity of it, a routine gesture. "She's not lost, Eddie. You're not losing her. Yeah? That's not how it works. She's your mom forever."
"I guess you never stop wanting your mom, huh?" he asks. His throat burns like nothing he's ever felt.
"I guess not."
Eddie's tears peter out eventually, aided by the way you hold his hands as though they're delicately made and the constant steadiness of your presence, your head dipping down intermittently to press kisses to the side of his thumb. He can't shake the feeling of grief and he doubts that he'll feel much better tonight, but the need to cry dissipates. He's drained suddenly, like he's held his breath too long, every inhale an ache.
Roan comes to investigate the quiet. She tiptoes in, her lips parted in confusion, but her puzzlement doesn't stop her from snaking between his legs and your arms to sit in your lap. He's scared her, he knows, and he can't blame her for the way she wraps her arms around your stomach. Like he said: you never stop wanting your mom.
Roan twists her neck to look at him. You plant a kiss behind her ear.
"Are you okay, dad?" she asks.
"I'm okay."
"Why were you crying?"
"I don't know, Ro. I guess I was hurting."
"Did you cut yourself on the sharp knife?" she asks worriedly.
Eddie chucks her under the chin. "Not that kind of hurt, babe."
She frowns as though he's told her off and buries her face in his knees. Eddie folds down onto her like a cheap tent in a hurricane, craving the comfort of his little girl, knowing she's here, and that she's not going anywhere. "Is it okay if I squeeze you?" he asks.
"Yeah, dad. But only this time. You squeezed me too hard last time." She huffs, chewing over her words even as she hugs her father back ferociously. "You're rough."
"I said sorry already," he says lightly. His eyes scrunch closed. He has to try hard not to burst into a second round of tears as he smells her hair. "I'm really sorry, I thought you liked being squeezed."
"I don't mind if it's to make you feel better."
You laugh through your nose. Eddie clings. "Thank you." He's saying it to you, too. He really hopes that you know that. "I feel way, way better already."
#eddie and roan#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson scenario#eddie munson drabble#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fanfiction#dad!eddie munson#dad!eddie munson x reader#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things#stranger things fic#stranger things x reader#stranger things 4
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lights, camera, action
your boyfriend gets his hands on a handycam, later on you
warnings: mentions of divorce, mentions infidelity, Dave’s family is also mentioned, some self-doubt and angst, looots of feelings (sorry idk what took over me ehehe), swearing, smut: fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), p-in-v sex, slapping, daddy kink, usage of various nicknames (baby, darling, etc) minors dni (18+) reader is able bodied + has some length of hair + afab.
a/n: my birthday is officially on 10th of september, but this fic turned out to be longer than i expected, so i said post it with a fic you feel good.
a/n2: this fic takes place in the same universe with [take the heat away, make the girl stay] but they can be read separately.
Carol was a really nice woman after the divorce.
It was nice of her to call you a homewrecker, among many other names.
It was nice of her to fill Molly and Alice’s heads with wrong ideas about you.
It was nice of her to call Dave in the middle of your date and tell him that he’ll come back crawling back to her after he’s done with you. just like the girls before and made sure you heard it.
Lastly, it was nice for Carol to send all of his belongings to your tiny apartment. You didn’t even know how she got your address. Just after a simple ring of the doorbell, you were standing between piles of light brown boxes.
“Shit, did she really do that too?” Dave asked over the phone as you stood inside the labyrinth made of boxes.
“Yep, what’s left of your relationship is now inside my living room.” You said as you eyed over the boxes. Trying to find out if your relationship was enough to fill one box.
“They’re mostly clothes, family photos and Father’s Day gifts. There is nothing left of the relationship.” You were familiar with the last sentence. Dave used that to reassure you during the beginning of your relationship.
He also used that sentence to girls, and Carol. When any one of them accused you of breaking them up.
“Yeah, probably. I’m gonna take a shower. When will you be back?”
“Fifteen minutes tops. Do you want anything?”
“No, just you.” His chest hurt when he heard how your voice cracked before you ended the phone call.
He hated Carol when she did that. Blaming you for everything went wrong in the marriage. Taking her anger out on you, when in truth you came into him long after he decided on a divorce.
—
“Darling? I’m home.” He didn’t hear your reply, but the water sound came from the bathroom.
He took off his long coat, his keys still in his hand when he walked towards the living room. Greeted with a pile of boxes. He couldn’t imagine how you felt when a box after a box came into your place. He would call Carol again, but he knew pretty well whatever he said to stop her, just would fuel Carol’s anger.
He raised his key, slashing and opening one right through the tape with it.
Fake plastic trophy of being the Best Dad Ever, broken hand painted coffee mugs, a photograph in a frame from Alice’s first soccer game.
He went through some of the boxes more. As he assumed they were mostly clothes and stuff related to girls. Mainly photo albums which were half empty since Carol only sent him photos he was included. Nothing more.
When he was going over his last box, something silver at the corner of the box caught his eye. When he took it out, he was greeted with an old handycam.
“No way.” He smiled as he took it out. Shocked when he found out it was still charged.
He heard your footsteps when you came towards him, wrapped a towel around your body and another one around your head.
“What is that?” You walked towards him, the scent of your shower gel filling his nostrils.
Orchids.
“That’s my old handy-cam. Got stuck between stuff, still works.”
He explained as he checked if there were any pre saved videos. He remembered using it for Alice’s school plays and Molly’s soccer practice. Half remembering that he already saved them to Carol’s computer.
He pressed on the record button, when he saw the red blinking light he raised the camera to you.
“What are you doing!” You chuckled, covering your face.
“Recording my lovely girlfriend.”
“I’m in a towel.” He shrugged, still keeping the camera on you.
“That’s better.” He said as he zoomed on your legs, slowly lifting the camera to your body. “Don’t be shy. Camera loves you.”
“Is it the camera? Or is it my horny boyfriend?”
“Both. Give me something baby, come on.” You rolled your eyes, blew a kiss and winked at the camera.
“That’s better.” He said as he placed his hand on your towel, raising an eyebrow.
Before you could understand his next move, he tugged the towel down, watching it pool around your ankles.
“Dave!” You protested, hands covering your breasts.
“Don’t be shy honey. This is just for me. Show it to me.” You huffed, placing your hands at your waist. Sticking out your chest more as he pointed the camera at your breasts, recording every inch for you.
He licked his lips at your sight. “I’m a lucky bastard aren’t I?”
“Try the luckiest.”
He chuckled, motioning you to the couch. “Take a seat.” You rolled your eyes, swinging your ass as you walked towards the couch. You knew he was zooming in there.
He whistled, “That’s my girl” as he followed you. Sitting further from you on the coffee table. “Open your legs for me, come on.” The sight of your glistening pussy was on camera, Dave’s hand was slightly shook, blurring the view for a second. He tried to play it like he was affected less from the sight of you than he actually was.
“Hmm, you’re wet baby.” You smirked at the camera, slowly nodding. “Who made you this wet?”
“You did.” You pressed your fingers on your lips, spreading them to show him your swollen clit covered in your silk. “See? It’s all for you.”
He felt his pants tighten, he didn’t even find the time to take off his tie since he got back. Now you were standing all naked for him, showing off your perfect body. And he had too much clothes on to feel you on his skin.
“Be a good girl, play with yourself for me. But don’t cum.” He said as he slowly placed the camera on the coffee table. Angling it to the perfect angle.
Your eyes were looking into his eyes, as he clicked his tongue pointing at the camera. “Eyes on the camera baby.” You swallowed down your whimper. Thumb pressed onto your clit, feeling your walls clench around nothing.
You pushed a finger inside you, moaning at your wetness. You closed your eyes, for a second, your other hand was on the cushion, grasping it tightly.
You started moving your finger, in and out, playing with your clit then back in. “Open your eyes.” You opened them, seeing Dave in front of you, behind the camera.
He was naked, his cock in his hand, slowly pumping himself. You could tell he was rock hard, it was painful for him not to touch you. “See what you’re doing to me?” You gulped, nodding quickly.
“Add another finger.” You did as he said, your toes curled, walls clenching around your fingers. You didn’t have to look down to know your juices were dripping down on your couch, making a mess.
You continued to finger yourself slowly, eyes locked on the red light on the camera. You could feel you were close to reaching your orgasm, trying to hold it as long as possible.
Your whimpers filled his ears, his eyes locked at the way your naked chest came up and down. Each second it became harder for him to not feel you on his skin. You were a sight for his sore eyes, all he carved for his life.
“Show me.” He said as he knelt between your legs. You took your fingers out of your pussy, the wet sound of it crying made both of you moan.
Your fingers were glistening with your juices, you took them inside your mouth, sucking off your juices.
His warm breath fanning your weeping pussy. He quickly hooked your legs on his shoulders. Diving into your pussy, drinking your juices right from your core.
Your body trembled as his warm tongue touched you. Drawing long strokes with the tip of his tongue. “Oh Fuck!” You said as your hand went back to cushion. Supporting yourself as Dave continued to lick over your folds aggressively.
He raised his face, his lips and chin covered with your juices. The corner of his lips raised into a smirk. “You taste so good.” He said before he dove back in. Sucking down your clit.
You smirked at the camera, hand going to your breast. “Fuck! Dave! You are so good!” You pinched down your swollen nipple. Pulling him closer to your core by pressing your ankles on his back.
He pushed a finger inside you, eyes pointed up to your blissed face. You were looking right at the camera just like he told you. His pretty girl always followed his orders without making him give them twice.
“Fuck!Fuck!Fuck!” You were chanting out as he was brutally fucking you with his finger. His lips on your thigh, kissing along the soft flesh, pressing his teeth on your inner thigh.
He pushed another finger inside. “Are you going to cum?” You looked down at him, eagerly nodding.
“May I? Please daddy, I’ve been so close.” He chuckled, curling his fingers inside you. Earning a loud moan from you. “Please.”
Who was he to deny you from pleasure?
“Cum for me.” He said as he sucked your clit once more, fingers still moving inside you. Your body shook when he brushed along your sweet spot. Pads of his fingers pressing on it just right. “Fu—“ Your body jolted backwards, your mind went blank as the white pleasure surrounded your body.
You were panting heavily, as he got up between your legs slowly, his hand wrapped around his cock. Fingers shining with your juices. Your mouth watered with the sight. You wanted him. You wanted more.
With the dark look in his eyes, you knew he wanted the same. “Get on the floor. On your hands and knees.”
You got in the position like he asked, shaking your ass a little when you got on your knees. He slapped you harshly causing you to fall on your hands. Your lips parted, showing him one of his favorite views; your ass in the air, your hole greedily waiting for him.
He pressed his tip on your entrance, “Look at the camera, don’t close your eyes, or I’ll stop.” You knew this was more of a statement than a threat. Before you could say something he gradually pushed himself inside of you, letting go of his breath when he reached your limit. His cock twitched inside you when your walls welcomed him inside.
“Oh.” You moaned at feeling full, still sore from his fingers. Your pussy greedily accepting him, already addict to the sweet pain.
He could see your glossy, lustful gaze thanks to the camera. Cursing himself for not thinking this sooner. Not thinking of saving these moments of you. Not starting saving anything he could save from you.
He placed his hands on your waist. Getting his momentum as his hips started slapping against your ass, not wasting any time with being gentle. Today was not one of his gentle, love making days. He needed you. He needed to take what was his.
He was not having a great time at work. Now he also had to handle Carol and stop her from attacking you.
He had to protect you and he had no objection to that. If it was allowed, he would tear up the limbs of anyone who dared to hurt you. It does not have to be physical abusive, just a simple word was enough to get him violent. There was nothing in this world that would stop him to protect you.
You were his purpose in life, his guiding light.
“Please.”
Your crying voice turned him back to reality, his eyes snapped back to the camera from your shaking ass. Your eyes teared from pleasure, thin layer of sweat covering your cheeks.
“Yes?”
“Please cum inside me. I missed feeling your cum inside. I’ve been empty for days.”
He had some stuff to take care of in Denmark. Unfortunately his little business trip took longer than he expected. So all you were able to do were some quick calls and exchanging text messages. Whispers of “I miss you” were exchanged as you bit your tongue not to say “I love you” too soon.
“Baby…” He said, getting faster than before, chasing his pleasure. You moaned, when he pushed in a bit too hard. Your hand stopped you from falling forward. Forehead almost hit the coffee table.
He cursed his ignorance, wrapping his arm around your neck, leaning over figure. He pressed his lips on your sweet spot behind your ear, feeling your body tremble between his arms. He nudged your temple with the tip of his nose, taking in your smell.
“I’ve got you.” He whispered, eyes locked with yours on the screen.
“You look so good, baby. I feel how you tighten around me, you want to cum again don’t you?”
“Yes, please.”
“You want me to make you?”
“Ye—yes...” His hand went to your clit from your waist, flicking it rapidly. “F—fuck! D—dave!”
“Go on, come all over my cock baby! Fuck you’re milking me so good.” He slapped your ass, grabbing a handful of the soft flesh before whispering to the shell of your ear. “You want me to cum inside don’t you? Fill you right to the brim?”
He groaned at how your walls tighten around him with your question. “Yes! Fuck yes! Please fill me up. I’ll do anything, please.” He sucked a bruise your neck, his hot breath from his nose fanning on your throat.
“If you really want to…” He said as he spurted out his cum inside you, pressing down on your swollen clit. Holding your body with his arm still wrapped around your neck as it trembled with your orgasm.
“Dave!” Your voice shook as you tried to keep yourself up. Feeling his hot cum spill inside you. He turned your head to the side, smashing his lips to yours. You moaned into the kiss, opening your mouth for his tongue to enter. Your salty taste on his tongue as he sucked yours.
Taking everything you offered to him.
He slowly took himself out, some of his cum spilled out from your hole. He tsked, gathering them with his fingers and pushing them back in. You hissed with the contact, looking over your shoulder to him.
“I’ll send someone tomorrow, to take care of the boxes. I don’t want you to worry about them.” You nodded, as he lied down next to you. Pulling your naked body to lie on his naked chest. You buried your head on his chest, kissing right above where his heart his.
You took the camera from the table, stopping the recording. You smiled at the video, thinking how better you looked than you guessed.
“Like a true temptress.” Dave said, as he buried his nose in your hair, his fingers drawing circles on your upper arm.
“Can I keep a copy as well?”
“Anything you want darling.” He said as he kissed you, slowly moving you to his lap between kisses. “Anything for you.”
—
The next morning Dave’s men came to collect the boxes. And Carol had an anonymous email in her inbox with no subject.
It was a small photo where Dave was eating you out. When she scrolled down, she saw your text added underneath.
Mine, back off.
Needless to say, the email disappeared a few minutes later it was read, without leaving any trace.
—
please provide comments/reblogs if you liked this fic. they always mean a lot 💙
#dave york#dave york smut#dave york oneshot#dave york fluff#dave york angst#dave york x you#dave york x reader#pedro pascal#dave york fanfiction#dave york x y/n
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house of addams (7)
— 🌖 pairing: ot7 x fem.reader
— 🕷️ genre: mystery, angst + fluff + smut
— 🗝️ word count: 7.3k
— 🍄 summary: you’re invited for a night at the Addams house.
— ☕ content warnings: mentions of (mutual) stalking and taking photos without consent, smoking, weapons + firearms
— 🕸️ a/n: ok listen, i am a sucker for tropes.
previous chapter ← series m.list → next chapter
chpt. 7: the dinner party
october 30, 2004
The gates of the Addams house greet you with open iron rails, swinging open, just like before, without any kind of assistance. It only makes you hesitate for a moment, because you figure you're in for more of a shock once you get inside.
The Addams house looms tall and intimidating from atop the hill. The sun has nearly completed its descent past the treetops into the darkening wilderness, and the windows of the house are aglow with warm light. It makes it look more like a place fit for habitation.
The image of all of them cozied up at the dinner table, ready to share a meal together like a little family, pops into your mind. But it is very quickly shooed away, because it hurts a little to think of happy families.
A few old lamposts illuminate your way up the path. When you get a little closer, you can see shadows moving through the dirty glass windows.
Even in the darkness, you can see the overgrown weeds and crumbling stone that makes up the exterior of the house, and it makes you even more curious to see what it looks like inside.
Standing on the front landing, you check your watch. Five fifty-five p.m. The invitation said six sharp, so you figure it won't hurt to arrive a few minutes early.
The iron knocker is in the image of a black cat's head, with a mouse dangling by its tail as the handle. You grasp the mouse and rap it against the door three times.
A few moments pass before the old wood is creaking open.
You're half expecting the door to open by itself like the gate, but no. Jungkook stands there, dressed in a dark pinstripe suit with his hair in slick curls. The warm lamplight crawls across his face, but his strange paleness still startles you a little.
"Good evening," he greets you, opening the door wider to beckon you inside.
You're glad you're dressed adequately. The formal dress code was a little intimidating. You opted for slacks, a white button-up, tie, leather vest (even with a silver pocket watch chain for extra flare), and an oversized suit jacket. All with the leather coat you purchased at the bookshop thrown overtop to combat the cold.
Wearing a dress isn't ideal in any situation other than for looks, especially when you're carrying items that are meant to remain concealed, so you opted for a more practical outfit.
You're expecting the inside of the house to be just as decrepit as the outside, but this isn't the case. The long, elegant hallway is lined with framed oil paintings and sconces holding lit candles, flickering in the slight draft, an air that feels a little ghostly.
You follow Jungkook into a large foyer with polished floors and a tall domed ceiling overhead. A grand staircase that branches in two directions leads up to the balconied second floor.
You can't help stopping for a moment to admire the grandeur of the place. Every curve, every corner, is embellished with carved wood or shining brass accents. It isn't even dusty, let alone decrepit.
"Come," Jungkook says softly. "He's waiting for you in the lounge."
He leads you through more labyrinthine hallways, all aglow with candlelight, gesturing you through an oak door.
The room inside is dimly lit with soft lamps, a fully-stocked bar tucked into one corner, the remaining walls lined with full bookshelves. There's plenty of seating options, from plush-looking armchairs to curving sofas.
"I'll see where he's gone off to. Wait here, please," Jungkook blurts out, sounding nervous, and closes the door without waiting for a reply.
You take the opportunity to look around a bit.
Lush ferns decorate almost every potential empty space, probably thanks to Yoongi. There's a table in the center of the circle of seating options, crowded with appetizers. Oysters on the half shell, perfectly pink shrimp and cocktail sauce, chunks of fresh salmon with lemon wedges, all resting on giant slabs of ice.
You walk over to the ledge of the bar, examining all the fancy bottles and crystal decanters. Some of them have little tags hanging from their glass necks, labelling them. Blackberry vodka, silver rum, 0.3% cyanide, hemlock syrup.
It's just as you're ducking your head under to examine the hidden shelves behind the bar counter when a light voice interjects,
"Nosy little thing, aren't you?"
You turn to find the head of the house himself standing there in the doorway, though you didn't hear it open or him enter.
You've never seen him this close before. And what a vision he is. Dressed in all black, skin showing through the deep cut V in his shirt, hair slicked back, and a grin that's just as slick to match.
"Yes," you quip back, unapologetic. "I've made a career out of it."
His smile only widens, as if to say I'm well aware.
"Drink?"
"Please," you reply.
His smile, which is much brighter and lighthearted than you anticipated, remains as he crosses the room and stands behind the bar.
"Any preference?" he asks.
"Whatever you recommend," you answer, plopping down on the velvet green Chesterfield sofa, digging in your bag for your notes. At this point, it's less of a bag and more of a giant mess of papers and folders and photographs held together by a few pieces of straining fabric.
Hoseok plucks a perfect sphere of ice out of a silver dish, dropping it into a martini shaker. He grabs the decanter of blackberry vodka, and a few other bottles and mixers.
"Very thorough, aren't you?" he asks as he pours shots and drizzles into the shaker.
"That's right," you respond, spreading out the near-endless stream of documents according to the map in your head.
You can hear the clack of the shaker, the sound of its contents being poured. A moment later, a martini glass filled with near pitch-dark liquid, garnished with a blackberry, is placed by your side.
"Thank you," you say, grabbing the glass and taking a sip. There's the hint of flavored vodka, a berry tartness, and some other taste that you can't quite name.
Hoseok sinks down in the chair across from you with a matching glass in his hand, crossing one slim leg over the other.
"So," he begins, and you don't have to look at him to feel his eyes scanning you up and down. "You're the one she settled on to sort out this mess."
You pause your obsessive shuffling.
"She?"
In the middle of taking a sip from his drink, he looks at you like he's a little confused.
"The mayor? She is the one who hired you, isn't she?" he asks.
"Yes," you admit. "What of it?"
A slight smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.
"I admire your suspicion, ______," Hoseok says, and hearing your name from his mouth is strangely thrilling. "But you must trust me when I say that me and my family have done nothing to cause the deaths and disappearances, at least to our knowledge."
"Then you better start telling me what you know," you reply sharply, fixing him with a strict gaze, and he doesn't break it.
"That is why you invited me here, isn't it?" you ask. "To tell me what you know?"
Hoseok considers it for a moment.
"Of sorts, yes," he replies, cryptidly.
You suppress the slight annoyance that wants to creep into your expression, focusing back on your documents. Spreading out a map littered with red circles and connecting lines, you point to one of the marked indicators.
"This is the Addams House, correct?" you ask, instinctively using your interrogation voice without realizing it.
It makes Hoseok chuckle internally.
"Correct," he replies cooly.
"And these," you point to several of the red circles. "Are the last known locations of the five missing persons. Remarkably close, hmm?"
"Come now, ______," Hoseok says in a playfully chiding voice. "Location may be suggestive, but it isn't incriminating."
"I never said it was," you bite back. "I'm merely suggesting that this house, as well as the surrounding area, displays some very strange qualities. And I can't leave any stone unturned."
Hoseok nods, almost appreciatively.
“I’d expect nothing less,” he says, smiling that same radiant smile.
“You’ve done your job well, haven’t you?” he inquires, setting his glass down and rising from his seat, beginning to circle around the couch.
“I should hope so,” you reply a little hesitantly.
He passes by the bar and picks up the discarded martini shaker, fiddling with it, the ice inside clanking.
“How far-reaching are your investigative powers, I wonder?” he says.
He’s at your right-hand side, and suddenly he tosses the shaker halfway across the room in a perfect arc. It lands in the small sink at the bar counter with a loud clang.
Your head whips toward the sound, focus ripped away from the sea of papers.
When you look back at him, he’s adjusting his jacket lapels, sauntering back over to his seat.
“Far enough to get the job done, I suppose," you reply, trying to uphold a neutral yet strict tone of voice.
"Hmm," Hoseok says, raising a brow. "Far enough to constitute stalking?"
The back of your neck prickles.
"What makes you say that?" you ask, though both of you know well enough that you're playing dumb.
"Ever heard the expression "walls have ears?" Well, trees have eyes, and they've told me all about you."
He's back in his seat, but you still feel like he's circling around you. Not many people make you nervous, let alone intimidate you, but Hoseok is apparently one of the exceptions.
"You should know that I am very protective over my family," he says, the tone of his voice dipping a little deeper. "Naturally, I keep an eye on them."
With that, he reaches into his inside jacket and pulls out several files. Flipping open to specific pages, he throws them down on the coffee table between the two of you with a papery slap!
Staring up at you are several photos, and it takes you a second to recognize them as ones from your own camera.
Jimin, walking to class, his hand frozen in time while brushing through his hair. Taehyung, hands in his coat pockets, meandering through town on his way to the police station. Jin, leaning against the garden wall, cradling a coffee cup in his hands.
It takes you another few seconds to realize that the file is from the pile of folders you brought with you. He must've slipped it from you when he tossed the shaker into the sink, a diversion to make you turn your head.
A crooked grin, slick voice, and sticky fingers apparently.
"I admire the dedication even more than the suspicion," Hoseok says, reaching into his jacket again, but this time he pulls out a silver cigarette case.
He holds it towards you with a questioning tilt of his head, offering you one, but you shake your head. He takes one out, puts it to his lips and lights it with the flick of a lighter.
It doesn't smell like tobacco though, more like cloves and pennyroyal buds.
"Technically," you begin. "Stalking includes inducing fear in the victim; intimidation, threats, and the like."
The subtext is clear: good luck taking me to court for this.
A smile breaks out on his face.
"No harm done," he says. "They were quite flattered, actually."
You don't really know what to do with that statement. It must show on your face, because Hoseok smirks with an exhale of fragrant smoke.
"Don't worry about it, detective," he says, sounding amused. "We're all sinners here. What's a little felony charge here and there?"
You watch the ghosts of smoke twist from the end of the cigarette between his slim fingers. Something about the way the smoke moves is unusual, like it doesn't quite obey the laws of physics that normal smoke would.
"In fact," he says, reaching into his other jacket pocket. "I must admit that I'm a little guilty myself."
He takes out another folder, opens it, and lets it fall on the table. It's a mass of photos, and they're all of you. Sitting in the cafe through the window, walking through town, collecting samples at in the woods.
Now you know where that I'm being watched feeling was coming from. If you were normal, you might've been creeped out by it. But this isn't the first time you've been trailed and you doubt it will be the last.
"I'm curious, though," he starts. "What exactly made them worthy of stalking in the first place?"
You look down at the spread of appetizers like you're contemplating reaching for one. You're not going to mention how you've been trying to distract yourself from what you saw at the lake, or the fact that you find all the inhabitants of the Addams House to be a little too compelling.
"I knew that all of them were cagey if not outright lying about living here, and given this place's reputation, I found it necessary to dig deeper," you answer in a leveled voice.
"And you figured that this place might be connected to the disturbances?" Hoseok replies, though it doesn't sound like a question.
You set him with a firm gaze.
"I never ignore patterns."
He stares right back.
"Words? Yes. Actions? Sometimes. But never patterns."
He's really staring at you, like he's trying to find the answer to some unspoken question in his head. The look in his eyes is somewhere between inquisitive and impressed, maybe even—
"I think you have darker thoughts than you realize, detective," he says. The smoke tendrils from his last drag hang, mesmerizing, between the two of you.
"If you truly want to know what's strange about this place, I can show you."
He's leaning forward slightly in his chair, and but before you even have time to think about what that means, the loud clang of a bell is sounding through the air.
"Ah," Hoseok says, taking one last puff from his cigarette before stubbing it out in the crystal ashtray on the coffee table. "That's Jin calling us to dinner."
He rises to a stand and straightens his jacket lapels.
"Once you're done with your cocktail, we'll head into the dining room."
You haphazardly gather your notes, down the rest of your drink, and follow him out of the room.
He leads you through the ornate hallways, quickly darkening with the setting of the sun. The sound of clinking dishes and pleasant chatter grows steadily louder.
When you emerge into what you presume is the kitchen, you're almost struck speechless.
It's a humongous, grand, high-ceilinged room, and nearly everything is in shades of green and gold. The dark marble floors are flecked with gold veins, the dark wood cupboards and drawers are fixed with gold handles, even the smell in the air has a rich, golden warmth to it.
The countertops are a deep jade quartz, and the floor to ceiling stained glass windows are in patterns of emerald and amber. More plants decorate the space, though these are taller and more lush.
The huge stove is crowded with copper pots and pans, all sizzling and bubbling and hissing with their savory aroma.
There's someone standing over the stove, wearing a crisp white button-up and black apron, a small saucepan in one hand, swirling sauce on a plate in fancy shapes. There's a whole line of plates before him, making him look like a master chef plating up a dish for a hoard of diners.
"Oh, hello _______," the man says cheerfully when he notices you, and you realize that it's Jin (though you guessed as much from his ridiculously broad shoulders).
The next second he's squirting something into a different pan, sending up a surge of sweet-smelling flames, though he doesn't even turn his head from you.
"Hello," you manage to greet him, captivated by how he expertly juggles everything. There's sauteing vegetables, sizzling meats, a bubbling broth, not to mention something that you can't see in the oven.
The sound of shattering glass sounds from the next room.
Hoseok suppresses an eye roll.
"Please excuse me, detective," he says, sounding like a slightly annoyed parent. "If you wouldn't mind lingering in the kitchen while I sort this out. Jin so likes the company."
Jin flicks a spurt of hot oil over one shoulder, missing Hoseok by an inch, but he only bursts into laughter while sliding out of the room.
Jin doesn't seem to mind as you curiously look around the gigantic room, he just continues his work in comfortable silence.
That's a common theme with Jin. He's charismatic and perfectly capable of carrying a conversation, but he appears to enjoy your company despite how quiet and reserved you are. He merely glances your way every few moments, like he's reassuring himself that you're still there.
You like how he doesn't push you for conversation. It seems like he enjoys observing you just as much as you enjoy observing your surroundings (though you do enjoy observing him when he's not looking).
"Very impressive," you can't help but say as you watch him out of the corner of your eye.
"Thank you," he replies happily, and then adds playfully, "Feel free to mention that at the table."
Your eyes scan over the variety of coffee contraptions, no doubt because of Jin the cafe owner. Then you reach the refrigerator, black with gold handles, but instead of plastic magnets there are little antique picture frames with photos of all if the house's inhabitants. Because of course even the fridge has to align with the aesthetic.
"Looking for something?" Jin quips, clearly amused.
It's then that you wonder what exactly you'd find inside the fridge. Jin knows you've been watching him. Does he know what you suspect he is?
"What would I possibly be looking for?" you reply nonchalantly.
Jin lets out a chuckle that would dissolve even the thickest tension.
"If you're looking for blood bags and raw meat, you won't find them here."
He says it so jokingly, that you start to think maybe you were wrong about him. Maybe is he just some normal man with normal tendencies, the only reason for his nocturnal lifestyle attributed to him owning a 24 hour coffee shop.
Maybe you don't have to imagine him standing among a rack of blood bags at the local hospital, stealing them for his own benefit while leaving others without the vital resource.
Because if that's the case, then you have no reason to suspect he has anything to do with the deaths and disappearances. Maybe you could even—
"I don't keep them in that fridge," he says.
Your amused expression drops.
The timer on the oven beeps.
"Almost ready. If you wouldn't mind moving into the dining room and taking your seat," Jin says, focusing back on plating each dish.
You take the hint, leaving him in his element.
Another grand room, but with much higher ceilings, almost like a dark cathedral. There are the same stained glass windows and marble floors, and a massive crystal chandelier lit by tapering candles hangs overhead, though you have no idea how anyone could get so high up in order to light them.
Though the thing that demands the most attention is the long table in the center of the room. More dripping candles, some more like piles of wax with a lit wick, and bouquets of dried flowers serve as centerpieces. A black lace tablecloth, glinting silverware, dishes with images of crows and insects.
You don't even notice the people standing around the table until a small projectile is hurtling past you. Head whipping around, you see Jimin standing there with a slingshot held up to his face, and that face painted with a smirk.
From the way he's looking at you, it's not outrageous to assume that he was aiming at you. That is, until you hear a crash from behind you.
"Hey! Don't hit my azaleas!"
You immediately recognize the voice as Yoongi's, but your eyes are locked on Jimin. This is the first time you've seen him without a mask.
Uncovered by a hat, his silver hair falls across his forehead, and his eyes, unobscured by sunglasses, shine a strange blue-gray.
Something about his face is dangerous, it makes you want to see how close you can get before that danger becomes a real threat.
"You missed," you say, even though the smirk on his face is not one that belongs to someone who's missed their shot.
He just smiles on, and his teeth are sharp. Unnaturally sharp, as if every tooth beyond the front two have been filed down to fine points.
"If I wanted to hit you, I would've hit you," Jimin replies.
Hoseok approaches the two of you, ready to unleash another lethal roll of his eyes. He holds out his hand, and Jimin gives up the slingshot with a little huff.
"We have a no weapons at the table policy," Hoseok explains as Jimin pushes past him. You move to follow, but Hoseok stops you too.
"I'm afraid we also have a no recording devices at the table policy," he says with a knowing look.
You stare at him in slight disbelief, but he appears to be serious.
You want them to trust you, if only for the sake of the investigation. If they know something, you can't seem like a threat.
So you start to empty your pockets.
There's the microcassette recorder in your coat pocket, the digital recorder in your pants pocket, the flash drive recorder in your other pants pocket, the pen recorder in your inner jacket pocket.
You make a show of straightening your clothes before trying to slide past him, but he blocks you again with a raise of an eyebrow.
How the fuck...? Ugh, fine. You suppose you can actually be trustworthy instead of just pretending to be.
You take out the spare digital recorder in your left jacket pocket, the mini microphone in your shirt pocket, the flashlight with the secret button clipped to your belt. And the fake lapel pin. And the video camera in your bag. And the smaller backup camera in the hidden pocket inside your bag.
When you look up, you see that everyone in the room has stopped to watch you, all with expressions of slight shock.
Remembering one last thing, you hold up a finger, fishing out the micro nine pistol from the holster at the back of your waistband, setting it down at the top of the pile of contraband. As well as the extra magazine.
There’s a moment of stunned silence, and you think that maybe you shouldn’t have revealed the fact that you usually bring your gun to unfamiliar situations. But then you hear Jimin chuckle.
“Well,” he says from across the room with nothing but amusement in his tone. “It’s definitely a party now.”
Now that everyone is properly de-weaponed and de-deviced, everyone moves to take a seat, with Hoseok at one head of the table and Yoongi at the other in a tall peacock chair.
Your place is between Jimin and Taehyung, with Jungkook and Namjoon sitting across the table.
You should’ve guessed that Namjoon would be here, live here. As a P.I., you’re kicking yourself that you didn’t guess as much earlier.
Jin is still in the kitchen, dishes clanking. And what you perceive as awkward silence hangs in the air. To them, it simply feels like impatience being soothed.
You wait, wait for one of them to acknowledge the situation. Why have you been invited here?
“Did you enjoy the appetizers, _____?” Jimin asks.
You sneak a glance at him. He’s dressed in a silk shirt that billows around his form, his pale hair now pushed back from his forehead, transforming his face from relatively innocent to dangerously attractive. He watches you eagerly, waiting for your reply. He caught all of the seafood himself, after all.
You just nod in response, but Jimin flashes you a pleased smile all the same.
“We weren’t allowed to have any, of course,” Taehyung remarks, giving Hoseok a pointed look.
“Guests eat first, Taehyung, you know that,” he replies swiftly, but from the little grin on both their faces, it’s clear they’re only teasing.
You wonder how often they have guests in a place like this.
Another silence falls, you sneaking glances at everyone around the table. Except when you dare glance at Hoseok, he’s already looking. He must sense your discomfort, because then he’s saying, “My apologies, detective. We haven’t had proper introductions yet.”
He starts with the person to his left.
“This is Taehyung, our resident coroner. He runs the morgue downstairs.”
This is the first time you’ve made eye contact with Taehyung since you arrived in the house, and he doesn’t seem like the same man you met in the morgue. This man is at ease in his own home, a man who isn’t bound by professional constraints. He’s looking at you now less like a private investigator and more like a stranger that he doesn’t want to remain a stranger.
You’re not sure which you prefer.
“This is Jimin, he’s currently studying chemistry and marine biology at the university.”
Jimin meets your gaze when you glance at him, cocking his head back slightly and flashing a hint of those sharp teeth again.
“Yoongi, our genius little green thumb. He’s the one who keeps the place nice and lush,” Hoseok gushes, and Yoongi gives a little wave and straight-lipped smile, blushing only slightly.
“Namjoon, our favorite bookworm. And brilliant scholar! About to publish his third book.” Namjoon nods his head towards you with a small smile.
“And this is Jungkook, the youngest problem in the bunch,” Hoseok says, gesturing towards the young man in the pinstripe suit. Jungkook acknowledges you still somewhat nervously.
“Forgotten someone?” A voice calls.
Jin saunters into the room, having abandoned his apron for a lace jacket with sewn-on fabric flowers. He takes the empty seat to Hoseok’s right, straightening his hair. But it doesn’t like he’s been slaving in the kitchen this whole time at all. Not one stain on his clothes, not one dew drop of sweat.
“Could never forget you, darling,” Hoseok replies. “And this is Jin, our lovely chef who keeps us all so well fed.”
Jin gives a tiny little bow in your direction, along with one of his charming smiles.
There’s another pause, as if they’re waiting for you to say something. All you can think of is that they already know you, there’s no need for you to introduce yourself. So you say the first adjacent thing to come to your head:
“Glad to have met all of you.”
And you barely notice it, already looking down at your empty plate, but they simultaneously stifle the flutter in their gut.
“Alright,” Jin announces, clapping his hands together. “Let’s eat!”
Everyone but you, in near perfect synchronicity, grabs the silver cloche set before each of their table settings, and places it over their plate. Jimin gestures for you to do the same, so you obey.
When you remove it again, after everyone else does the same, the former empty plate is suddenly full. A thick and creamy soup, speckled with spices, steaming in a bread bowl crusted with garlic and herbs.
And of course no one bats an eye at the casual error in the law of physics, too busy passing around a bowl of greens to garnish and a bottle of red wine to fill their glasses. You don’t object when Taehyung holds the bottle over your own glass with a questioning raise of his eyebrow.
And by God, is it delicious. The cream base of the soup melts perfectly with hints of herbs and the peppery bite of truffle shavings. And of course, the best part is being able to break off a bit of flavored bread and dip it into the pot of gold before you.
“This is delicious,” you can’t help but blurt out, saying it like an aggressively objective fact.
“Thank you,” Jin replies, smiling wide like a child that was just complimented on their most recent art project. Except you can’t display a bowl of soup on the fridge, but you would if you could.
“Yoongi helped me forage the mushrooms,” Jin adds.
Mushrooms? Now that you think of it, the soup does have a distinct earthy taste.
“Do you forage often?” you ask, looking at Yoongi.
“Not as often as I’d like,” he replies.
“Why is that?” you ask, and a small smile tugs at Yoongi’s mouth. There’s a shared chuckle from around the table.
“What?” you blurt out, almost certain that they are making fun of you or know something that you don’t, probably both.
“You’re doing your interrogator voice,” Jimin says, but it doesn’t sound malicious, more like…endeared?
A look around the table, and everyone’s face matches the tone of his voice. He says it as if the two of you have known each other for years, as if you’re friends. It puts a strange, almost sickly feeling in your stomach. You set down your spoon.
Soon the air is filled with pleasant dinner-time chatter. They keep trying to bring you into the conversation, like you’re somehow one of them. But you’re here to get a job done.
It becomes exceedingly more difficult to concentrate solely on the case when the main course comes out. Again, due only to the covering and uncovering of your plates with the silver cloches, the remains of your soup disappearing.
A choice cut steak, generously seasoned, drizzled with a red wine sauce, a heap of garlic and herb mashed potatoes, and more mushrooms grilled to tenderness. You’re not normally fond of mushrooms, but these are surprisingly flavorful in a way you wouldn’t expect from a vegetable, let alone a fungus.
“They’re Pepperwood caps,” Jin says, as if reading your thoughts. “Yoongi grows them on the grounds.”
In all your research, you’ve never heard of Pepperwood caps.
“Hoseok isn’t eating them,” you say pointedly. “Neither is Jungkook,” you continue. There are no Pepperwood caps on either of their plates. Instead, a small pile of white capped mushrooms with brown spots.
“To my knowledge, those are Deadly Dapperlings, yes?”
They all look at each other.
“You don’t miss anything, do you detective?” Hoseok says with a little grin.
Your research on fungi has made you a novice at recognizing the lethal ones.
“Jungkook and I find that the poisonous ones have a particularly robust flavor,” Hoseok continues.
You watch him as he says it, waiting for him to elaborate, but he never does. So you return your attention to your perfectly cooked steak.
“I imagine you’re curious about what precisely the fuck we all are,” Jin interjects the silence, and your fork stops halfway to your mouth.
“Really all that needs to be said is that whatever you’ve already deduced is probably true.” He has his hands clasped together, his shirtsleeve riding up to expose the crescent-shaped bite mark on the inside of his wrist. He smiles when he notices you staring.
“Don’t worry,” he says, sounding amused. “I can be trusted around exposed neck flesh.”
You raise an eyebrow.
“So there’ll be no biting over the course of the evening?” you quip, only half joking.
Jin maintains his level gaze.
“Only if you want it desperately,” he replies.
You mold your face into a hard mask of indifference before you say something stupid.
“I must admit,” Taehyung begins. “I'm a little older than I look."
You stare at him like you’re trying to read a book. It’s true, he doesn’t look a day over thirty.
Jimin clears his throat.
"I'm not exactly...from here," he says, and when you look at him you swear you see something shift underneath his shirt.
The man in the peacock chair shifts.
"I'm a little more tuned into nature than most people," Yoongi adds. It’s only then that you notice that the dried flowers in their vases are leaning towards him like he’s the sun.
Jungkook is fidgeting in his chair, avoiding your gaze. But you can gather as much from the pallor of his skin and the deep-set dark circles under his eyes, both of which become clearer and easier to see the more times you look at him.
He has a ghostly air about him, like a whisper in the wind.
You look at Namjoon, and he smiles with a shrug.
"I just run a bookshop," he says.
A shared laugh sounds around the table. Namjoon rolls his eyes.
"Okay, maybe I've made a few blood pacts, but I'm a folklorist for Christ's sake!"
You genuinely can’t tell if he’s joking, but you suppose it doesn’t matter. Though, judging by what you’ve seen tonight, he’s probably telling nothing but the truth.
Finally, you turn to Hoseok.
“I’m…not all there,” he says, and you wait patiently for more.
He scratches the back of his head, looking like he’s trying to find the right words.
“You can see me sitting here, but it’s only half of me. You can touch me and hear my voice, but it’s not actually me. I need to be…contained.”
Now you’re staring at him in confusion.
“You ever read The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde?” Namjoon asks.
Before you can answer, another loud clang of the bell is sounding. Everyone else merely looks at the clock, but you flinch violently at the skull-rattling volume of the noise.
Jin wipes the corner of his mouth with his cloth napkin and pushes his chair back. Everyone else does the same, covering their now empty plates with the silver cloches.
Hoseok rises to a stand.
“Would you like to join us for coffee and cocktails in the library? Dessert should be ready shortly,” Hoseok says, though it doesn’t sound much like question when he heads down the hallway without waiting for an answer. And apparently it didn’t sound like a question to anyone else either, because Jimin and Taehyung are soon pulling you up from your chair and leading you out of the room, with Jimin even wrapping one arm around yours as Taehyung presses himself to your side.
The library is a dark room, no less grand than the rest of the house, with the same candlelit chandelier and sconces. Floor to ceiling bookshelves wrap themselves around the entirety of the room, complete with a wooden ladder on a sliding rail. There’s a roaring fire in the fireplace, and plenty of leather chairs and couches gathered around it.
Jimin lets you go when the door is shut securely behind you.
“Who wants a drink?” Jin asks, heading over to the bar cart in the corner, but you’re more drawn to the tea set on the low table by the fireplace. It’s all black and gold, with little images of ravens on the cups and saucers.
You pour yourself a cup with cream and sugar, taking a languid sip and relishing in its perfect richness.
Jin distributes the drinks as he prepares them without having to ask anyone what they want. A glass of white wine for Taehyung, something sparkling and slightly radioactive looking for Jimin, that same blackberry concoction for Hoseok, hot toddies for Namjoon and Jungkook, and a glass of some citrusy cordial for Yoongi. When you get a closer look at his glass you notice that Jin even took the time to carve a little jack-o-lantern face into half a tangerine as a garnish.
Jin makes himself the dirtiest martini you've ever seen, with only half the glass with liquid in it, the top half being a copious pile of olives.
“So, detective,” Hoseok says, leaning against one of the bookshelves. “How can we be of service?”
Your eyebrows raise.
“You want to help?” you ask, still incredulous. Because to be honest, you’re not quite sure what the purpose of this evening is supposed to be. To intimidate you? Confuse you? Judging by the fact that you stalked them because they fell under your radar of suspicion. You figured that if they were going to offer to help they could’ve done it with an email.
“Of course,” Taehyung says from his seat on one of the couches. “The last thing I want is more bodies on my autopsy table due to deaths that could’ve been avoided.”
“And something is harming the wildlife,” Yoongi adds.
You set down your cup and saucer, digging in your bag to start spreading papers all around you.
“What’s the deal with the mayor?” you ask.
“She's...unpopular with the general population," Namjoon offers. "A little too different."
"She won the election, didn't she?" you counter.
"By the skin of her teeth," Jimin replies. "Minority vote kicked in at the last second. And a lot of people aren't happy about it."
"Different, huh?" you say. The implication is clear.
"Or at least, her ancestors were, and I think her daughter is too. Tends to run in the family, stuff like that," Taehyung adds.
"She looks out for those like us," Yoongi says. "When she can, that is. It's gotten a little harder these days."
"Why is that?" you ask.
Yoongi shrugs.
"That's just how it goes. Some times are harder than others."
"Is that why the mayor wanted everything off the record? Why there's hardly been any media coverage?" you ask.
"That's what I'm guessing," Yoongi replies.
"She's paying me out of pocket," you inform them.
"That doesn't surprise me much," Namjoon adds. "She's always been too generous for her own good. I imagine she cares more about this strange case than most of her colleagues."
"So she knows about all of your…proclivities? That’s why she sent me your way?” you ask.
“I’d be surprised if she didn’t,” Yoongi replies. “Normal people tend to think we’re weirdos, but those who are like us know when they’re looking in a mirror.”
"What about the paper?" you ask.
Their expressions cloud with confusion.
“Uh, what about it?”
Ah, have you finally breached the topic of something they want to hide?
“Several people have claimed to have negative experiences with the press, but the main publishers have barely commented on any of the cases.”
“Oh, you mean the Periscope Press,” Taehyung supplies.
Hmm, maybe they don’t have anything to hide after all. But that doesn’t mean you trust them yet.
“It’s an underground newspaper, independently published, geared towards folks like us. Though it’s mostly full of garbage these days, we don’t have a subscription,” Taehyung explains.
“We can get you copies of the last few editions, though,” Jungkook adds, startling you a little since you haven’t heard him speak much tonight. He suddenly looks down at his shoes like he just realized the fact too.
“If you want,” he says, this time in nearly a whisper.
“That would be great, thank you,” you reply graciously, though he continues to avoid your gaze.
“So, detective,” Hoseok begins, and with the drink his voice is a touch more gravelly. “What’s your next move?”
They’re all looking at you now, curious and waiting.
You look down at your notes and fight the urge to clench your fist, because to honest, you’re not sure.
“I’m sure our little sleuth has a plan,” Jimin quips from his place sprawled out across one of the couches.
“I’d like to get access to Bradley’s reports and records, and wear down Mrs. Bradley if at all possible,” you begin, forming a list in your head. “I’d like to continue fieldwork around the woods and the lake, maybe see if anyone at the university can do some tests on those unusual mushrooms. I’ll be continuing my rounds around town to see if any civilians have anything to offer. Hopefully I can get some more information on the ones still missing.”
“And the lake?” Jimin asks.
You don’t want to talk about the lake. Thinking about it puts a sinking feeling in your gut, the stench of hot poisoned salt water filling your nose.
You don’t want to talk about what you saw. In your line of work, simply seeing isn’t enough. All that matters is hard evidence. So that’s what you’re gonna get.
Downing the dregs of your coffee cup, you start to gather up your notes.
“You’re leaving?” Jimin says, sounding wounded. “Before dessert?”
“I’m afraid there’s some things I wanted to get done tonight,” you say, ready to retreat back into your hole and dive back into the distraction of your work, where there aren’t several pairs of sultry dark eyes watching your every move.
“I suppose it is getting late,” Hoseok says. Though he doesn’t mention that many of them either don’t need to sleep or simply prefer to be active into the darkest hours of the morning.
“Let us send you home with some goodies, hm?” Hoseok nods to his housemates.
Jin cuts you slice of blue velvet cake, packing it up in a little bento box container.
You object at first, saying you don’t want to take a container as nice as this one, but Jin just retorts with a wink, saying that you’ll just have to come back sometime to return it.
Yoongi takes some cuttings from one of the dining room table centerpieces, adding some clippings from plants around the house as fillers, and wraps the bouquet in brown paper tied neatly with a bow. He hands it to you with a shy expression.
Namjoon gifts you a small stack of books, bound together by a leather strap, with The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde at the top of the pile. He gives you a smile when you notice.
“I’ll walk you to your car,” Jungkook says when they lead you through the dark halls to the front door, which you didn’t expect.
He carries your gifts as the two of you travers first the cobblestone path and then the small hill down to where you parked your car.
“Sorry we’re so strange. And vague. I imagine it’s frustrating,” he says suddenly.
The walk up to this point has been completely silent, so the sound of his voice startles you just a bit.
“Yes, you’re all very weird,” you say, and Jungkook’s face sinks.
“If any of you ever change I’ll be very disappointed,” you finish, and that puts a full smile on his face, full enough that you can see the bunny-like jut of his front teeth.
A few moments of silence, the wind singing a low song.
“You’re very cynical, you know,” he says.
That makes you look at him, but his face is that same neutral expression, dark eyes wide like a young doe’s. He says it like a simple observation, not with the judgmental you’re used to hearing.
“Am I?” you reply, unable to choke back the little sarcastic bite to your tone.
He nods.
“You think no one could ever believe you just for the sake of believing you. You think you need to prove yourself.”
You stare at him, long and hard enough to miss the fact that the two of you have reached your car.
He opens the door for you, and you’re glad that you’re heading to the safety of your home because all these kind gestures are starting to make you feel weird.
After you start the engine, Jungkook leans down to look at you through the open window.
“Try not to worry about the case so much,” he says softly. “Trust your instincts, you’ll figure it out.”
There’s a moment of silence where you stare at him some more, wondering how a man who’s been so quiet and shy for the duration of the evening can shock you dumb with just a handful of words.
“Thank you, Jungkook,” you manage after a while. “And thank the others for a lovely meal.”
He nods and smiles, backing up to let you drive off down the hill.
Back at home, you make a fresh pot of coffee and tuck into that slice of cake while you draft an email to the mayor detailing your most recent findings.
Then you look through all the books you have on mushrooms, even go to the internet, but you find absolutely nothing on Pepperwood caps. To the rest of the world, they don’t exist.
You fall asleep with The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde lying open in your hand.
~~~
a/n: thanks for your patience! :)
#bts ot7#bts x reader#ot7 x reader#bts series#bts x fem!reader#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction#bts mystery#bts angst#bts poly au
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Now hear me out,what if. What if we did get Sent back to our world. But. Our monke was sent with us. Pretty please 👉👈🥺 We gotta fuel the shenanigans of things somehow. I wanna see him get whiplash from both technology and culture shock. We've been nice to our boi for a good while,it's time to bully him finally.
When you both wake up in the middle of the city, with people standing, asking if there was a con around or something, you know that you both are in something big.
You needed to find a good hiding place, but you knew what was happening: you and the Destined One were now in your own world.
The buzzling city, the cars, the technology—everything made his poor brain scrumble. You cane from this?! This chaos?!
The smell for him is difficult to handle, the absence of trees, and the strange behavior of the people...
///
"This is...your home?"
"Yup."
Hiding in a tree, the two of you admired the small portion of the city that the park hallowed you to observe. While you remembered what it feels like to breathe the same air where you were born, Yuán Fèn couldn't take his eyes off the palace in the distance.
"Are those... pagodas?"
"Oh no, those are skycrapers. People live and work there."
"Oh..."
Everything was out standing. And the mortal did it without the help of gods or others! They did it themselves! He gasped again, his tail swaving excited.
"We should go now! ...Maybe you can finally meet my family!"
///
That's your plan...until you find out what's really happened to you.
You were wondering if the car that had crashed into you was some sort of allucination or something like that, but when you reached your home, you could feel all the pain that you hadn't felt the day of the accident.
When you knocked at your door, you guessed that your mother could feel dizzy. After your disappearance of months, what you didn't expect was her tò Just faint on your porch, right in front of you and Yuán Fèn. You both were able to bring her into her room, and after that, you started to notice a pattern that scared you.
While Yuán Fèn tried to make her come back from the world of the living, you noticed the door of your room locked; many of your photos were missing from the usual spot. And there, in the living room, a photo of you at your prom, in an intricate frame. Written in silver ink, the lines "in loving memory.".
You really wanted to faint at that moment.
///
It feels so strange looking at your own grave. You guessed that they would you in this one particular spot. It was a family place there.
"I told them that I wanted to be cremated."
Yuán Fèn was more interested in trying to decipher your mental state. You were just there, watching at your own photo. He felt so strange... so that was what Mitraya meant when he said you were rebuking everything in your real world by choosing him. He looked again at that stone block, your name carved in there... then moved away.
"Okay, I think I'm in need of... What are you doing?!"
You spotted him taking a few flowers from one spot to another.
"Playing respect!"
"To Who?!"
Then, with the small bouquet in his hand, he put the flowers in the small pot near your photo.
"..oh ..." That was the only word that you said after that.
///
Three things were clear to you:
1) Going back to Mount Huaguo was the priority;
2) You needed to find some money since you were basically broke;
3) Need to keep the monkey away from every electrical device.
The first one was based more on a sense of morality. After all, you made a choice, and that was the choice to stay in that world full of magic because you fell in love with the destined one and a simple cane back home wasn't enough to move you.
Not to mention that you have nothing that came back anymore, so...
The second, hard but not that much. You have nowhere to go, so you were forced to stay in a cheap and very not so sanitary motel that you both found.
Luck were your side because that place needed someone that could clean or fix staff and you two? We're the masters at fixing staff...sorta.
But the third one...oooh boy...
///
You were drinking coffee, how much did you miss it, trying to schedule the next day of work for you and Yuán Fèn. You could clearly hear him doing something in the small kitchenette, moving staff, putting them somewhere, opening things, cutting them...
Then you heard the roar of that old blender that you both found around.
" DARLING?" You used your very sweet tone, a sign that you were expecting the worst for him. "What are you doing?!"
"Nothing."
"That doesn't sound like a -"
And there, in front of you, he putted a very strangely colored liquid, viscous, and with some strange objects floating here and there.
"What Is It?"
"A bunch of staff!"
"I know that; it's clearly a bunch of different staff."
"You should try it, then talk!"
"I genuinely want it five meters away from me."
"Suit yourself!" And then, in your horror, he proceeded to drink the staff.
///
After days of adjusting and trying to get used back to the modern world, when you both got inside your shared room and found no one but Maitreya himself, you both got a huge shock. You don't know what was the most unrecognizable scene—the actual boy in the room or the fact that he was reading a comic book that talked about the Monkey King or the Yankees cap in his head.
And he just waved! Like nothing!
He decided to give some explanation, but the most important was why you were sent there and how to. come back.
The first was more for the two of you. After your decision, you decided to leave your world behind, but you did know what that really meant? He wanted to know that and gave you a free way out, a small taste of your original world, and the thought that even this could sway you away from the destined one, and he received a slap on his head by you, and he admitted he deserved it. Another test of loyalty? They really believed you were so easy?!
Well, many were before you...
As for coming back, it was easy, of course! Did he not do it himself right now?
When you and Yuán Fèn looked at each other, Happy Tò was able to finally come back to Mount Huaguo, but you were stopped by the kid.
"You have to finish your schedule this week! And, oh, won't it be better if you gave a notice?"
How the heck did he know these things?!
"Aaand," he continued, holding an old toaster, "explain to me this little miracle."
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#black myth wukong#black myth wukong x reader#the destined one#destined one#destined one x reader#sunwukong#sun wukong#sun wukong x reader#sun wukong x oc#sun wukong x y/n#wukong#wukong x reader#wukong x oc#Wukong x y/n#jttw#journey to the west#jttw sun wukong#maitreya#x reader#female#fem reader#monkey king#monkeyking
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