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guilty-pleasures21 · 2 days ago

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i have this fun take that jason works his crime lord stuff at warehouse with his goons however none other bats could go in (he forbids it) except the bat theme vigilante! reader. Sometimes the reader just go there, whether visit him to help her with her cases or annoy jason bc ofc she can, well she is his best friend slash badass girlfriend. However sometimes his goons just wondering what are their relationship without prying too much on their boss’ life. I would hope you like this request (if youre in the mood to write it) and I hope that makes sense tho because english is not my first language

The warehouse

Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry I took so long, babe! I was racking my brain every night trying to come up with a coherent storyline 😅! This is fun though! I like to imagine Reader just making Jason look silly, but he allows it because he’s head over heels for her!

Warnings: implicit descriptions of sex (male x female).

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She burst through the roof and landed on the balcony overlooking the interior of the old abandoned factory. Well, ‘abandoned’ was more like it: the space was filled with busy men who had frozen in their tracks to stare up at her in horror. X placed her hands on her hips and fixed them all with her most threatening frown. “I demand to speak to your boss!”

“Right here, princess,” the Red Hood sighed from behind her. X turned around and her face lit up immediately when she saw him, burly arms folded across his chest, his rugged features probably arranged into an exasperated look beneath his helmet. She took a step closer to him and her brows crashed together again as she placed her hands on his bulky shoulders.

“You know I don’t like it when you wear your helmet, Hood,” she whined, purposefully making her voice all high-pitched. “Why don’t you wear your mask?”

Jason let out another weary sigh and wrapped an arm around her to start guiding her in the direction of his office.

“Keep going, everyone,” he assured his henchmen, “I’ll handle this.”

His goons exchanged confused glances with one another, but quickly returned to their operations as their boss led the hero away. Jason locked the door behind him once they were safely inside his office, then he focused his full attention on X. “What are you doing here?”

She leaped onto his sofa and lay back, stretching herself out so her suit clung tightly to her every curve. Jason’s eyes followed the lines of her body, admiring her lush figure, and his hands began to ache with the need to run all over her soft skin. X grinned, completely aware of the effect she was having on the tough vigilante.

“I wanted to see your handsome face, Hood!” she replied, still using that ridiculously innocent tone on him. “But since you’re wearing your helmet …”

She pursed her lips, as if disappointed by her fruitless journey, but then she propped herself up on her elbow and lowered her eyes to his torso instead. “I guess I’ll just have to admire your delicious body instead.”

Jason swallowed down the saliva that gathered in his mouth at the way she licked her lips while her eyes trailed over him. Thank God he was wearing his helmet or she’d be able to see the way the tips of his ears and the back of his neck reddened otherwise. He cleared his throat and glanced away from her, calming himself down before removing his helmet. He was still wearing his mask underneath, concealing his identity from anyone who didn’t already know him, but it was enough of a glimpse of his face to keep his girlfriend happy. X grinned and rolled over onto her stomach, letting her hair fall over her shoulder. Jason pulled his gaze away from her again and cleared his throat. “You could have just waited at home, sweetheart.”

X pushed herself to her feet and walked over to Jason. She slid onto his lap and her fingers immediately made their way into his hair. She pulled on the strands gently, tugging his head back and forcing his lips to align with hers. Her mouth watered in anticipation of feeling the rough ridges of his wide lips brushing across hers, but she forced herself to look away and get up again. She knew she wouldn’t be able to resist kissing him if she’d glanced up and seen the way his pupils dilated whenever he was looking at her mouth. And, shit, he was such a good kisser that she always found it impossible to drag herself away from him once they got caught up in a heated makeout session. X hopped up onto the edge of Jason’s desk and pulled a thumb drive out of one of her pockets.

He raised an eyebrow as she held the small drive out to him, her lips twisted into a begrudging smirk. “What’s this?”

X crossed one leg over the other as he plugged the drive into his computer, lightly trailing the tip of her boot along the inside of his muscled thigh. “How trusting, Red Hood. How do you know I didn’t just hand you a virus I could use to hack into your computer and get all your contacts?”

Jason’s gaze flickered up to her and his eyes were immediately pulled to her chest, her luscious curves on full display. He pushed aside the desire rapidly pooling in his core and fixed her with a knowing look.

“Did you want all my contacts?” He grabbed her ankle and held her leg in place so he could sneak his thumbs beneath her tights and begin rubbing small circles along her bare skin. “You know all you’d have to do is ask, princess.”

She closed her eyes as the low murmur of his voice danced along her bones. He was always so smooth and so put together that she relished every chance she got to have the upper hand over him. X bit down on her lip as Jason kept his grip on her foot, using the pain to distract herself from his featherlight touches, but finally, she opened her eyes to sneak a peek at him. His tongue darted out from between his lips as his hungry gaze travelled over her body and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed down the saliva rapidly gathering in his mouth. He looked up at her and smirked when he caught her gaze trained intensely on him. X gulped at the smug look on his face and quickly pulled her foot away from him.

“I-I …” Her voice came out breathy and she mentally reprimanded herself for letting him get the upper hand. “It’s for my new case: this is all the evidence that was collected from the crime scene. I wanted you to check if I’d missed something.”

Jason spun around to his computer and opened up the drive to start clicking through the images. His eyes widened with horror when he realised who the victim probably was - and who the likely suspect was as well: Carmine Falcone. No way would he let his precious little girlfriend get mixed up with such a notorious villain. He closed the file and turned to X with a scowl. “Who gave you this case?”

Her lips parted, confused by her boyfriend’s sudden change in demeanour. “I … just got stuck with it because everyone else thought it was too boring.”

“Well, they were wrong.” Jason removed the drive from his computer and tossed it into one of his desk drawers. “You’re not taking this case, princess.”

X furrowed her brows, caught between bewilderment and amusement: Jason could be a little overprotective of her sometimes. Not that she didn’t love having someone who was so perfectly capable of taking care of her and making her feel safe! She just found that he could be a tad dramatic sometimes … “I have a name, you know, sweetheart.”

Jason narrowed his eyes at her overly saccharine tone. He stood up and placed his hands on either side of her. “You’re not taking this case, Nightingale.”

X took in the threatening frown on his face, then she wrapped her arms around his neck and pushed her lips out in a pout.

“No fair!” she complained. “Why do you always get to have all the fun, Hood?” Suddenly, her expression morphed into a devious grin and she tickled the base of his skull with her fingernails.

“We could solve this case together?” she suggested. “The two of us working in perfect synchrony …” She stretched up, bringing her lips to his ear so she murmur softly into it, her voice low and thick with lust.

“And no one would even know how good the big, bad Red Hood f*cks the city’s sweet little Nightingale to sleep in his bed every night,” she finished naughtily.

“F*ck.” Jason’s eyes rolled back in his head as all the blood rushed immediately to his core. Because who in their right mind would ever picture the rough and hardened vigilante running his hands and teeth and tongue all over the naked body of their sweet little superhero? Corrupting her in his bed every night while she mewled desperately for his c*ck? He dug his fingers into the table, restraining himself from touching her. He took a step back, forcing her hands to fall away from his shoulders, and the distance allowed him to finally regain control of his thoughts. “I’ll handle this case, princess. I’ll talk to Batman about it.”

She swung her legs back and forth, trying to decide between telling him off for ordering her around and just letting him do her work for her. But she didn’t want him to take on extra work on her account, though she supposed it would be sufficient punishment for the demeaning way he was treating her right then. She folded her arms across her chest and narrowed her eyes at him.

“I’m not a child, Hood,” she told him, the anger taking over. “But if you want to treat me as such, then don’t complain about the consequences that come with it.”

She stalked towards the door, making to leave, but Jason jumped out of his seat and quickly caught her wrist.

“Nightingale,” he sighed,, finally realising how his authoritative tone might have come across. X stopped, but refused to turn around and face him. “I’m just … The people involved in this case are too dangerous, sweetheart.”

He lifted his hand to wrap his arms around her and pull her close to him, but then he hesitated. What if she pushed him aside in disgust, unwilling to forgive his mistakes any longer? He tugged her wrist to test the waters and X collapsed back into his chest, relieving all the tension from his body. He squeezed her against him, holding her tightly against his chest, and pressed a kiss to the side of her head.

“I can’t-” His voice cracked, but he recovered quickly. “I’m not going to let you get hurt, Nightingale.”

X sighed at the earnestness in his voice and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Okay.”

Jason patted her back gently and bent over to press another kiss to the top of her head … But then someone banged on the door.

“Boss?!” one of his goons’ panicked voice came from the other side of the door. “Are you all right?! Has she got you?! Blink twice if the answer is ‘yes’!”

“You idiot!” another man’s rough voice interrupted. “How are we gonna know if he’s blinking?!”

“Oh yeah …” the first man replied. “We’re coming in, boss!”

“No! Don’t-” Jason leaped away from his girlfriend just as his goons came barreling into the room. They zoomed straight in between the two of them and crashed into the wall at the end before landing in a crumpled heap on the ground.

“Shit,” Jason muttered, racing over to check on his henchmen. X followed after him, rapidly assessing the two men’s injuries: thankfully, they’d seemed to have just bruised their arms after breaking the door down and running straight into the wall - no sign of any head injuries or concussions. She straightened with a relieved smile.

“They should be fine,” she assured Jason. She turned around and sauntered to the door, swaying her hips teasingly. Then she stopped in the doorway and twisted around to look back at him, stretching her body in such a way to accentuate her curves. “Oh and my offer still stands, Mr Big Bad Red Hood.”

She enunciated the words carefully and Jason’s body heated up as her eyes roved all over him beneath her mask. She grinned at the sudden tightness in his posture and swivelled back around to resume her exit. “You know where to find me if you want to take me up on it. I’ll be waiting, sweetheart.”

Her tone was teasing - challenging - and Jason gulped as she turned back to shoot him one last wicked grin. He watched quietly as she grappled out of his warehouse, disappearing into the night, and his mind started running wild with ideas on all the positions he could possibly find her in once he returned home.

“Um, what's she talking about, boss?” one of his men asked him, his voice slightly shaky. Jason turned to find both his goons blushing at his girlfriend's lascivious tone - except that they didn't even know that she was his girlfriend. They were just wondering why the cute and pretty hero was using what was very clearly her bedroom voice on their large and threatening boss. Jason gulped as her earlier words echoed in his mind, but he forced down his desire and drew himself to his full height.

“Nothing. She … was just warning me about a case involving Falcone,” Jason told them. “Keep an eye on your families, boys: he doesn't seem to be in a good mood. And if he ever threatens any one of you, you come straight to me, got it?”

The men nodded vigorously, heeding their boss’s warning: the Red Hood never steered them wrong, so they'd follow his words to the letter. “Got it, boss.”

“Good. Let the others know.” Jason headed towards the door, but paused in the doorway, hesitating. “And go home: it's getting late. I'm calling it a day.”

Then he left without another word.

Spoiler landed on the rooftop next to Nightingale.

“Hey, your location was switched off. Where’d you go?” Her tone was unconcerned, as if she already knew exactly where Nightingale had been whilst she’d gone dark over their comms, but she waited expectantly for her response anyway.

X raised her eyebrows at her friend and teammate: she wasn’t buying Stephanie’s innocent tone. “Hood’s warehouse.”

She grappled through the air, leaping from one building to the next as they began their trek back to the batcave.

“Well, where is it?” Stephanie asked once they’d stopped for a brief break. Nightingale shot her a wry smile.

“You know he doesn’t want you guys knowing where it is.” She took off again and Spoiler quickly caught up, keeping pace with her.

“Why?” she asked, genuinely confused. “It’s not like we’re gonna … blow it up or something!”

X laughed as they landed in front of one of the many secret entrances to the batcave. She paused to let the scanner sweep over her, then strolled between the doors when they slid open.

“It’s not that, it’s just …” She turned around and walked backwards as she thought about it. “He just needs his space sometimes.”

She swivelled back around and continued walking over to the Batcomputer. “Plus, he can’t have you guys making him look soft in front of his henchmen.”

“Who are we making look soft in front of their henchmen?” Nightwing asked, striding into the main hall from another passageway. He removed his Escrima Sticks from the back of his suit and placed them back in their holder.

“Jason,” Stephanie replied, removing her mask and sinking into the empty seat beside Tim.

“Does anyone else think it’s weird that Jason has henchmen?” Tim asked, not turning away from the Batcomputer. Dick ignored Tim’s question, snorting in amusement at X’s suggestion.

“The only person capable of making Jason look soft …” He paused dramatically and turned around to face her before continuing, “is you.”

X pulled an empty chair up to Steph and hopped onto it. She spun around as she considered Dick’s statement, letting her mind wander to her sweet and caring boyfriend. He was soft though, always surprising her with cute little dates and crafting the most thoughtful handmade gifts for her. And he’d pick her up after work every day so they could have dinner together and make sure to see each other at least once a day. Her features shifted into a dreamy expression and Stephanie grinned before snapping her fingers in front of her face.

“X? You still with us, babe?”

Dick laughed from his own seat as he lifted his legs onto the console.

“Her mind’s probably still with her boyfriend in that secret warehouse of his,” he pointed out, folding his arms across his chest and huffing in irritation at the thought of Jason’s warehouse that he refused to let any of them see. Well, any of them except for his little girlfriend that he was so obviously head over heels for.

X shook her head, forcing herself back to reality, and flashed her friends a sheepish smile. “Sorry …”

But none of them minded - not when she was so head over heels for their brother herself. X’s phone buzzed suddenly and she opened up the notification to find a text from Jason. Her eyes widened at whatever she saw on her phone and she shot out of her seat, this time with a guilty smile. “Uh, I’m gonna head home now. Night, guys! See you tomorrow!”

She raced off without a word and the others exchanged knowing glances with one another. Dick dropped his hands and legs and rolled over to Stephanie. “Did you do it?”

Stephanie responded with a devious grin.

“Yup.” She turned to Tim and leaned over his shoulder. “Is it working?”

Tim pulled up a map of Gotham with a single blinking light on it moving rapidly through the city, straight towards Jason’s apartment. “Yup.”

Jason sucked in a breath as the white-hot pleasure buzzed through his brain. “F*ck.”

He closed his eyes as they rolled back in his head at the sound of his girlfriend’s adorable little mewls beneath him, then he slumped over and started trying to catch his breath. He chuckled softly at the sight of X doing the same, then he bit his lip as he ran his hand down her bare, sweat-slicked back. God, she was hot. He slid his hands along her sides, tracing the outlines of her curves, then he lay down on top of her, twisting his fingers between hers. He pressed a kiss to the base of her ear, then buried his face in the crook of her neck, breathing in the sweet scent of her arousal.

“Mmm, shit,” he groaned, curling his fingers around hers. X shook her head as her mind went numb at the feeling of her large boyfriend’s warm body pressing against her. Then he began trailing his lips down the side of her neck and she hummed in contentment as his satisfied groans sank into her skin and danced along her bones. “I love you, Jay.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.” Jason lifted himself off of X, giving her the space to twist around and snuggle up against his chest instead. He brushed her hair behind her ear and stroked her cheek softly as he admired her glowing features. Shit, she was pretty. “But you’ve gotta stop breaking into my warehouse, babygirl.”

X furrowed her brows, her lips instinctively twisting into a pout - she always felt like a spoiled little princess whenever he took that soft tone with her.

“Why?” she whined, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her body against his. Jason lowered his lips to her neck and slid his hand down to her ass. He moaned softly as he curled his fingers around her, squeezing her soft flesh like she was a little pillow, then he sighed and lifted his gaze back to hers.

“‘Cause you’re making me look bad, princess. My boys are gonna think that I can just fall for any pretty girl that walks into my warehouse.”

X narrowed her eyes at him in suspicion. “And how many ‘pretty girls’ are walking into your warehouse, Jay?”

Jason shot her an amused look: she could get a little … ‘protective’ over him sometimes, glaring down any girl who even looked at him for a second longer than she deemed appropriate. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him or anything, she just … liked staking her claim over him. His stomach buzzed with excitement at having someone who thought him amazing enough to mark their territory on.

“Just one.” He slung his leg over hers, pulling her closer against him. “And she can be so frustratingly distracting.” His gaze fell to her lips and he brought his mouth closer to hers.

“Makes it difficult to get any work done,” he mumbled before sliding his hand up the back of her neck and pulling her mouth to his.

X glided her hands all over his body as they kissed, admiring how deliciously gorgeous her boyfriend was. She wriggled against him as he teased her tongue with his, kissing and stroking her until she was breathless and dizzy with lust. Jason pulled back and laughed at the unfocused look on his girlfriend’s face.

“Come on,” he told her, carefully helping her get off the bed. “You've got work tomorrow. Let's get you ready for bed.”

“Ah! I'm so excited!” Spoiler squealed over the comms unit. “How should we enter? Should we jump in through a window? Or fly through the roof? Oh! Maybe we should just knock on the door?! They'll never be expecting that!”

Nightingale had gone dark a while back, but the tracker Stephanie had snuck into her suit had continued blinking steadily on the map Tim had gotten Dick to watch closely after his patrol had started. The three of them raced towards the docks now, eager to catch a glimpse of Jason's super secret, probably super cool warehouse that he'd kept hidden from them for so long. Finally, they landed on the rooftop of what appeared to be an empty warehouse, taking a moment to catch their breaths.

“There's a skylight,” Dick pointed out, gesturing to the removable glass panel that sat a few feet away from them.

“Busting through the roof it is.” Stephanie grinned and followed Dick over to the skylight. He pried it open easily and soon, the three of them were standing in the middle of a darkened building, all of them on guard for any wary guards. And then, “Eugh! Sick! It smells like dead fish!”

“I thought it smelled like three dead rats,” a low male voice chuckled from the edge of the room. Stephanie furrowed her brows at the response.

“Uh, no, that's definitely fish.” Then she realised who had spoken. She, Tim and Dick whirled around in horror, following the sound of the voice, and their panic increased tenfold when they saw the Red Hood walking towards them, a knowing smirk on his face.

“Hood!” Stephanie began, stumbling over her words as she tried to come up with a response. “W-We … We were just …”

“We got a distress call!” Tim improvised quickly.

“And we just wanted to make sure whoever it was was okay!” Dick finished, joining into the lie. The three of them nodded eagerly, suspiciously wide smiles stretched across each of their faces. Jason rolled his eyes.

“Did you think I didn't vet anyone who comes into my warehouse?” he asked, arms folded across his chest. “Especially someone who is almost always in close contact with the biggest snakes this side of the world?”

“In my defence,” Nightingale supplied, dropping down from the ceiling and landing behind them, “I thought they were my friends! But I guess you can only be betrayed by those you trust.”

She gave an exaggerated sniff and moved to stand beside Jason, curling her arms around his bicep and leaning against him.

“Technically, we weren't betraying you,” Tim argued, his tone matter-of-fact. “We were betraying the Red Hood. Although it's not like we have any alliances with him anyway.”

“What? You need me to sign a contract or something?” Jason scoffed, rolling his eyes at the suggestion.

“I trust you, Hood,” Nightingale told him, fluttering her eyelashes up at him sweetly. “I know you'd never betray me.”

Her gaze turned dangerous then, her smile sharpening into one laced with threats as she waited for conformation that he'd never betray her. Jason grinned and lowered his head to hers.

“Of course, princess,” he murmured, his voice low enough so the others wouldn't hear him. X giggled softly and Jason’s smile widened. Then he straightened and rearranged his features into a threatening expression. “If any of you ever try to pull a stunt like this again, you'll be cleaning fish guts out of your suits for a month.”

Tim, Steph and Dick cringed at the very thought, the bile rising to their throat as they took in another whiff of the fishy air.

“Ugh! Fine! You win!” Tim surrendered on behalf of all of them. “We won’t try to find your stupid warehouse again.”

Jason smirked in victory and waited until the three of them had left the area. “I told you it’d take them less than ten minutes after you went dark to come after you.”

X slid her arms around his neck as Jason’s arms came around her waist. “Fine. You win. I won’t disturb you at your warehouse anymore. Well, for the next month, at least.”

Jason rolled his eyes, but continued to smile. “You know they’re still going to try again, right?”

X shrugged, unbothered. “Then I guess we’ll just have to get the fish ready.”

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ellecdc · 13 hours ago

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Oooh I’ll bite

Jamie or Remus with a reader who kind of can’t believe he even knows who she is, let alone is/wants to be her boyfriend

“you don’t need to earn my affection, not now and not ever.”

jammiiieeeee

James Potter x fem!reader who doesn't need to earn his affection [591 words]

CW: implied experience of conditional love, hurt/comfort, fluff

James is pretty sure that if he looked in a mirror, he’d see hearts pouring out of his eyes. In fact, he was so certain of it that he was surprised none of his mates had said as much.

It came out of nowhere, really; this bout of fondness that has wormed its way into his throat just waiting for the perfect moment to spill from his lips. His only saving grace was that the two of you were surrounded by all of his closest friends and family.

He knew you’d been terribly nervous for tonight. You had met some of his friends, and even met his mum one day when they’d run into you at a cafe not far from James’ parents place - his mum had been smitten, but so was James, so that was mostly to be expected - but this was the first time you were going to be surrounded by all of James’ friends and family at the holiday party his parents threw every year.

The only evidence of that anxiety now was the way that your eyes darted over to him every so often as if convincing yourself he was still there, still with you, still real. And James thoroughly enjoyed watching you laugh and chat with his friends and charm the pants off of his relatives like you were being paid to do it.

Blast the fact that his family and friends were here; he had to say it.

“Having fun, Jamie?” You asked then, a cautious, hopeful sort of smile gracing your lips and James was stuck between wanting to kiss them senseless or keep admiring how pretty they looked.

“I’m so proud of you.” He blurted then, and the smile on your lips never faltered but your eyebrows did furrow.

“But…I haven’t done anything?” You laughed; an argument in the form of a question.

“Well…I feel like that might be up to interpretation. But it wouldn’t matter anyhow.” James offered easily.

“It wouldn’t?”

“Of course not.” James insisted, linking his hands together at the small of your back and pulling you into him. “You exist, I’m proud of you. You’re here with me, I’m proud to have you.”

“I don’t know that I’ve done anything to deserve your pride.” You continued, you were still laughing, but there was still a cautious question in your voice. James opted to try and kiss it away.

“I’m not sure that my being proud to have you and to know you has anything to do with being deserving.” He argued once the two of you broke apart; your lips still slightly parted like you couldn’t fathom what James was saying. “Have you always felt like you needed to earn love?”

The bemused smile you’d been wearing died on your lips as you looked up at James in a quiet sort of horror; realisation dawning on you.

“Not anymore, angel. Okay?” He murmured as he pulled you closer to him. “You don’t need to earn my affection; not now and not ever.”

“I love you.” You blurted then; holding onto the lapels of James’ suit jacket like a vice, like if you loosened your hold at all, he might simply float away.

James hoped there may come a day you don’t feel like you have to worry about that.

Until then, though, he’d just keep loving you; regardless of whether you felt you deserved it or not.

“I love you too, sweetheart.” He returned, tucking your head under his chin and feeling the pride simply grow within his chest.

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ssentimentals · 3 days ago

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Hii can i request mingyu + hurt prompt #34? Thankssss

hi sweets! thank you for requesting, hopefully you will like it! 💜

hurt prompts: 'the things you said yesterday... did you mean them?'

someone is caressing your hand. it's a nice feeling to wake up, especially when you know who is responsible for said action. mingyu's face is the first thing you see when you open your eyes and you smile a little. mingyu doesn't smile back and memories of last night rush in, reminding you why you're waking beside him and not in his arms. before panic rises, you remind yourself that mingyu is caressing your hand gently now, so everything can't be that mad.

'morning,' you whisper, afraid to talk in a normal voice for some reason.

'morning.' mingyu repeats and clears his throat. 'slept well?'

you don't really remember how you fell asleep; probably knocked out from crying and fighting. arguments with mingyu were rare but whenever they did happen, they sucked all the energy out of you, leaving you drained and exhausted. truth to be told, you don't even remember coming to the bedroom, so mingyu probably carried you here once you fell asleep in the living room.

'not really,' you reply, not feeling rested at all. 'you?'

he shakes his head. when you first started dating, you both promised each other to never go to bed angry, so what happened last night is an exception of sorts. 'the things you said yesterday... did you mean them?' mingyu asks quietly, voice muffled by the pillow.

your mouth opens but nothing comes out. to your horror, you don't even remember about which things mingyu is talking exactly - a lot of stuff was said yesterday and not all of it was said due to anger or frustration. but mingyu is sensitive, always has been in a much more delicate headspace than you, so you tiptoe around the question, looking for the right answer while also staying honest: 'any of the mean and angry words - no. i love you, gyu, i'd never actually mean any of those. but what i said about the whole thing, like in the beginning, what made me upset in the first place.. yeah, i meant that. i stand by it even now.'

mingyu doesn't say anything at first. he just stares at your hands, chewing on his bottom lip, thinking about your answer. you both treasure honesty the most, so he knows you're being sincere. 'okay.' he settles for in the end, taking a deep breath. 'i also didn't mean everything i said after we moved from the kitchen to the living room.'

you smile and hesitantly interlace your fingers together. 'i know, gyu.'

he nods again and squeezes and when he does that, you feel like you can breathe again. if mingyu is not declining physical contact, if he's still here then you two can work it out. 'we don't have to do it now,' you say, not wanting to get up. 'we can just lay here for a while.'

sigh that mingyu lets out on this is full of relief. 'yes. yes- yeah. please.'

you both move in sync, slotting your bodies together until it's impossible to tell where one ends and another one begins. 'sleep a bit more for now,' mingyu whispers, holding you tight. 'i'll be here when you wake up.'

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

#seventeen imagine #seventeen fluff #seventeen reaction #kim mingyu #kim mingyu x reader #kim mingyu imagines #seventeen mingyu #svt mingyu #mingyu x reader #mingyu imagines #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #mingyu fluff #seventeen prompt #i am afraid i cannot write angst ldfnlfnlafnla

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take-it-on-the-run · 3 days ago

Text

Imagine: Wearing Baggy Clothes with Dean

Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 900

@ghostlyaccurate requested: Hii! Can i please request an established relationship Dean Winchester x fem! Or gn! Reader who always wear insanely baggy jeans and just some friendly banter like: Reader: *gets in the passenger seat of baby, holding the jeans up a bit like a dress* Dean: Reader: *looks confused at Dean* Dean: you gonna leave some jeans for the clowns in the circus? Reader: oh fuck off Winchester Dean: I'm just saying, you hold them like a princess dress Reader: how the fuck did you get me to fall for you? (Bonus: his reaction when he sees reader in a tight fitting dress/ silk, short ish nightgown, for the first time and he's just like :0)

A/N: Good God why didn't I write this sooner?? I'm a baggy pants girly myself and I was able to write this so easily. Gonna apologize to @ghostlyaccurate because I have been swamped in school work and just remembered my inbox was a thing. Thank you for requesting and giving me inspiration to write! I hope ya'll enjoy my first imagine!!

Dean Winchester Masterlist | Supernatural Masterlist | Main Page Masterlist

You’d always stuck to baggier styles

It started with comfort, and then you realized that bigger pants lead to bigger pockets

Bigger pockets meant not having to run back to your car to get gear you couldn’t carry

You met Dean while Sam was at Stanford, and before him, you never thought much of your preference

Then, a few months on your ride across the nation to find John, you caught Dean looking at you with creased eyebrows and chuckling

“What?”

Your hands were balled up against your sides, raising the legs of your pants to let you step in the car without tripping

It came out harsher than you intended, but Dean didn’t mention it if he noticed

“You always ball up your jeans like some kinda princess whenever you get in the car. Might have to start callin’ you ‘princess’.”

You shot him a glare that you now know rivals one of his brother’s

Without you rebutting him, he poked at you again

“Gonna leave some jean for the rest of us? Might have to call Canada to warn them.”

You smacked him playfully, lips breaking into a smile

“Fuck off, man, do you know how much it sucks when you don’t have pockets for anything?”

Dean poorly blocked your hand, looking over at you silently as he revved the car

You relaxed into your seat at his silence

“Exactly.”

Looking back, you had no idea how you managed to fall for him

Then again, you felt similarly to his feelings for you

After the two of you found Sam, and then shortly after found, and lost, John, it was a quick spiral into solving whatever case the three of you could get your hands on

One of which included finding and destroying a hand of glory alongside your friend-not-quite-friend Bela Talbot

When Dean told you about the plan the first time, you weren’t thrilled that he said he needed you to work all together

You were even less thrilled when he unveiled that the hand was kept by some rich guy

Who was hosting a fancy ball

And that you still needed to come in

You didn’t mind formal events, occasionally enjoying getting dressed up made you feel good

But with Ms. Big Ben on your team ushering you to a room to get ready, you remembered the last time you were done up like this was at your senior prom

Where, if Carrie wasn’t already the prom scream queen, you’d have taken the crown

You went with some friends, but your parents only let you go if you brought some protection with you, and not the rubber kind

Growing up a hunter was tough enough for you, and you wanted to feel normal for just one night

So you left your gear in a bush outside the venue

Dumb idea

That night ended in a vampire’s head soaking you in blood, your poor date knocked to the ground, looking at you with horror

He skipped on the details but shared the part where you were covered in blood

You left school before the year ended and were able to get your diploma from home

Now, looking at yourself covered in more makeup than you normally wear and fabric clinging to parts of your body you were sure people forgot existed, you prayed the night didn’t repeat itself

At least this time your date would be impressed if you decapitated a monster

You willed yourself out of the room, following Bela down the stairs where Sam and Dean stood waiting in tuxes

Dean’s eyes scanned every dip and curve of your body, and you wanted to stick your finger in an electrical socket

Bela left for the car, Sam close behind, leaving Dean to stare at you alone

You waited for him to say something, a remark about looking done up for once, but he didn’t

Instead, his tongue darted onto his lips, leaving them parted as you stood still

Was he… gawking?

He’d told you that you were pretty countless of times, but this moment felt like something completely different

“You look… amazing.”

Before you could fathom to accept his complement, you let a wise crack out

“You’re saying I don’t normally?”

He laughed, shaking his head

“Never said that, sweetheart.”

Smart man

It was a small pause in your daily hunts, where you felt normal for a moment

When you were eventually covered in blood, dirt, and grime by the end of the job, Dean stood beside you in a similar state

He looked at you, eyes still holding the mystified look he gave when you first came down the stairs

No horror or disgust

And, the next day when you returned to your regular clothes, you noticed the way he looked at you held an awe-struck sense

Then again, you thought back to all the time you’d known him. Back in the car, when he was giving you shit, he looked at you with awe

If only you’d been able to see it earlier

#spn #supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fic #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester smut #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fanfiction

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pomefioredove · 18 hours ago

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*ੈ✩‧₊˚ honesty is a virtue

type of post: short fic characters: lilia additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, a little suggestive, actually a lot suggestive, this is based off a stupid joke I made, reader is older than nrc students etc

It had started as a joke.

IT WAS A JOKE!!!

How could you have known? You had had your suspicions, but it's not like anyone tells you these things.

You meant it as a JOKE!

"Yeah, well, I fucked your dad,"

Sebek looked absolutely horrified, as if you had just told him his pet puppy died. Silver was stuck in place, pale, staring at you. Malleus chuckled.

You look between the three, confused. "Relax, guys, I was kidding,"

Sebek's horror immediately twists into rage, his whole face going red. "HAVE YOU NO DECENCY? TO JOKE ABOUT SUCH VULGAR THINGS!!!"

"Sebek, it's alright," Malleus interrupts, smirking. Weird. Usually, he's the one who doesn't get your jokes. "They didn't know."

"Didn't know?" you ask. "Didn't know what?"

Malleus chuckles, and pats your head like one would a puppy, or a small child. "Some things are better left unsaid, child of man. You should know better than to make such comments around the younger students, though,"

"...Oh, right," you mutter. "Oops."

Sebek still looks like he's about to burst a blood vessel.

"...It's fine, I'm not offended. I was just... surprised, that's all," Silver says, the color slowly returning to his face.

You still can't seem to figure out what it is. You'd made crude jokes in front of them before, they're not that young, Lilia has said much worse, and you'd only been messing with them. Besides, you don't even know their dad.

Or so you thought.

"Knock knock~" a familiar, cheery voice calls out for you, opening your door.

You look up from your phone, trying to distract yourself from your earlier embarrassment.

"Oh... hey, Lilia,"

"Busy?" he asks, letting himself in, anyway.

"Uh... no. Not really. Is everything okay?"

The fae smiles, the tips of his fangs visible between his lips. He's got that look on him again.

"Malleus told me you caused quite the commotion, earlier,"

Oh, great. Now him, too? You're never gonna live this down. You sigh.

"I..." you hesitate. You really don't want to be scolded again, and you've heard that Lilia can be quite scary when he's mad.

"...We were all just... having a silly little argument, nothing serious, and I made a bad joke, I guess."

"Which waaaas?"

At least he doesn't seem upset, you think. If anything, he seems amused. Which isn't great, either.

You sigh again. "...I joked, in a jokey manner, in a joking conversation, that I had... done certain things with their father,"

"And is that true?"

"What?" you scoff, almost in disbelief. Is he really turning this into a lecture about lying? He never lectures you. "Obviously not! I was joking! People make those kinds of jokes all the time!"

"Ah, but how careless of you. Poor Sebek almost fainted," Lilia says, taking a seat on your bed next to you. He really is turning this into a lecture...

"Hm. But would you like it to be true?"

Pause.

Huh?

Even when he's scolding, he finds a way to surprise you. And yet... what if he's not scolding at all...?

You give him a weird look. "Meaning what?"

Lilia giggles, and you catch a glimmer in his eye. He's teasing. Not lecturing. Teasing. What is he...

"Remember how I told you that I'm much older than I look?"

Oh.

Oh, no.

Your stomach drops. Everyone's horrified looks, Malleus' amusement, Lilia's teasing, suddenly make sense.

"No,"

"Yes," Lilia lowers his eyes, getting closer. "I must say, I'm flattered. But it was rather cruel of you to lie to my boys. I'm simply suggesting we... make that lie a truth."

You stare at him, unflinching. Perhaps you'd always thought he was a little cute, perhaps you're just thinking it now. What you're sure of, though, is that you could hold this over everyone's heads forever. He knows it, too.

Finally, you nod.

Lilia sets a hand on your knee and leans a little closer. "Good. Honesty is a virtue, after all,"

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #queued #lilia vanrouge x reader #sorry I can't be normal about that old man. I've written too much sappy stuff lately I needed a sillies break

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itneverendshere · 2 days ago

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Hii i love the bitchy!pogue!reader series and i would love to know how they first hooked up again, like what led them to keep going after their first night together. That's all, thx in a advance if you do it, i love your writing

the way i ran to write this lmao, thank you for the request ❤️ let's just say it wasn't planned at alll....it was fate👀

in spite of myself - drabble

pairing: bitchy!pogue!reader x rafe

you swore the first time was the last.

you were simply… curious. you wanted to figure out just how far you could push his buttons without him taking it out on you.

you got your answer. you went to that party with the sole intent of pissing him off, but you hadn’t planned on ending up in his bed—not that you’d ever complain. but that was it.

you’d gotten your taste, of course you weren't expecting to run into him so...soon.

you’d learned to play along for these little trips into kookland. your cheap dress, bought solely to get you through the gates, hugged you a little too close—but that was the point, wasn’t it? you made a show of adjusting the neckline, scanning the room with that perfected boredom.

the moment you spotted him across the room, you nearly snorted, because of course he was here.

rafe, in all his buttoned-up glory. hair slicked back like he’d asked his barber for the "douchebag deluxe," wearing a shirt that probably cost as much as your entire car. he looked so at ease among his kind, you wanted to pat him on the head and give him a treat.

bingo.

he was pretending not to see you, standing there with some stuffy old kook in khakis so aggressively white they probably had a staff meeting dedicated to their upkeep.

but you could spot it: the clench in his jaw, his fingers twitching around his glass.

honestly, it was too easy. you’d barely taken a few steps in his direction, and his grip tightened like he was trying not to crush the glass just at the sight of you.

aww. you hadn’t come here for him, but the opportunity was irresistible, how could you say no to that face?

you took your time, internally giddy at how his stiff he looked the closer you got. you let out a soft, exaggerated sigh as you finally slid up next to him at the bar, taking your time, letting your eyes glide over his shoulders and back down to those broad, broad arms.

god, look at those arms, you thought.

this idiot must curl yachts for fun. absolutely absurd.

his gaze snapped to you, “what the hell are you doing here?” he gritted out, sending a delightful shiver down your spine.

poor thing, always so snappy.

you brought a hand to your chest, going for maximum innocence.

“who, me?” you blinked, leaning in with a soft, honey-dripping sigh. “just networking with the local elite. isn’t that what i’m supposed to do if i want to ‘rise above my station’?” you savored the horror flashing across his face.

rafe looked personally offended, like you’d just announced you were taking up golf, while you let your eyes drop to the line of his shoulders, lingering just a little too long on his chest before dropping.

slowly, slowly.

his face twisted like he was in pain, and he leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest, protecting himself from the way you were very clearly undressing him with your eyes.

“cut that shit out,” he ground out, “i know what you’re doing.”

you raised an eyebrow, “doing what?” you shot him a wide-eyed, who, me? look, letting your gaze dip again. “i’m not doing anything.”

his face flushed as he hissed, “you’re doing it right now! act normal for once.”

he pulled away from you as if your pogue germs might rub off on him, but you’d seen that look on his face before.

“honestly, if you didn’t want attention cameron, maybe don’t wear that. kind of a slutty choice, don’t you think?”

his neck flushed deep red as he scowled. “excuse me?”

you shrugged, “just saying. last time, you had a lot to say about my outfit, didn’t you?”

“you’re fucking insane. leave me alone.”

you smirked, leaning closer, “oh, baby, i’ve already got what i wanted from you,” you purred. “unless, of course, you’re offering again?”

his jaw tensed, and he looked away as if even looking at you would ruin his day. but he was still here, wasn’t he?

“don’t flatter yourself. i’m done with you,” he muttered.

you shot him a wicked grin, “flatter myself?” you let out an exaggerated laugh, turning heads nearby. “i’m here on a date.”

rafe’s smirk dropped, and he cast a quick, possessive look around the room before moving his attention back to you.

“a date?” he repeated as if he couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth.

you nodded as you pointed toward the back, where your “date”—some poor kook with a summer tan and daddy’s credit card—stood waiting near the hors d’oeuvres table, oblivious.

“did you think i came here just for you?” you tilted your head, letting the words sting. “i don’t do repeats, country club. got what i wanted, remember?”

he looked like he was about to set the place on fire, blue eyes narrowing as he glared at your so-called date. you could sense the gears turning in his head. god, this was just too easy.

“maybe you should run along, hmm?” you said, your voice light and mocking. “can’t imagine what your country club buddies would think, seeing you all worked up over a pogue.” you flashed him a dazzling smile before tossing a wink, then spun on your heel, leaving him there seething.

you could feel his stare burning into your back as you sashayed over to your “date.” this was way too fun.

lunch was mind-numbing, but free, so you were perfectly okay tolerating the “date”—or, as you preferred to call it, the idiot with a wallet—while he droned on about his family’s fleet of yachts or some bullshit about generational wealth. you nodded along, not listening as he bragged. as if you even gave a fuck.

when he finally paused to shove more overpriced pasta into his mouth, you decided you needed a break from the snooze-fest.

“excuse me, i’ll just pop to the ladies’ room,” you murmured, batting your lashes like the good, sweet little pogue he thought he’d bagged for the afternoon. as soon as you were clear of him, you rolled your eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t get stuck.

the second you got into the quiet of the bathroom, you let out a dramatic sigh of relief, shaking your head.

what a fucking bore.

you’d honestly rather be anywhere else—well, except maybe with rafe, since he’d probably drag you back to the ninth circle of pogue-hating hell.

as you were checking your lipstick in the mirror, the door swung open, and you didn’t even need to look up to know who it was.

“um, excuse you?” you snapped, eyebrows shooting up. “i know you have a thing for following me around, but the ladies’ room? have you lost your fuckin’ mind?”

rafe didn’t answer.

he stalked forward, looking pissed as he backed you up against the sink, boxing you in without so much as a second thought. there was something about the way his forearms flexed when he did that.

ridiculous, he most likely got pumped up just pouring a glass of water.

“what the hell do you think you’re doing here?” he growled, his voice dripping with disdain.

a laugh bubbled up before you could stop it. oh my god.

you clamped a hand over your mouth, but the sound came anyway, echoing off the fancy-ass tiles. “oh my god, what the actual fuck is wrong with you?”

he leaned in even closer. “you think this is funny?”

“funny?” you snorted, crossing your arms. “it’s hilarious. i’m here for lunch. you know, food? the stuff people eat? he offered, and i like free shit. it’s that simple.”

“you’re doing this just to piss me off,” he accused.

“oh, get over yourself,” you scoffed. “you think i’m obsessed with you or something? i wasn’t even thinking about you until you came barging in here like a lunatic.” you leaned back, giving him a brazen, challenging look. “can you move, by the way? i was enjoying the break.”

his nostrils flared, but you didn’t even care. if he wanted to lose his shit, fine—he was the one who walked in here. you stared him down, totally unfazed, holding his gaze until he broke it.

“careful,” you added, your voice mocking and low. “if i didn’t know better, i’d say you were jealous. because, i gotta be honest, you look like you’re about two seconds away from—”

“shut up,” he growled, his face inches from yours, his lips brushing your ear as he spoke. “you show up here, flaunting yourself like you don’t remember exactly how last week ended, like you weren’t begging me to—”

“oh please,” you interrupted, ignoring the pleasure that traveled up your spine. “let’s not rewrite history.”

his hand gripped your cheeks, blunt nails pressing in from either side as he pulled you close, capturing your jaw to hold you still. the pressure of the squeeze pulled your pouty lips together, forcing you to look up with wide eyes.

“stop talking."

you tried to smirk around his grip, feeling the bite of his fingers, but your words came out muffled.

“what’s wrong, country club? can’t handle a little conversation?”

“just can’t help yourself, can you?”

you could hardly nod, your eyes gleaming with defiance as you let out a small, mocking hum of agreement.

his hands slid down from your cheeks to cradle your jaw, fingers firm as his mouth pushed against yours. you giggled into the kiss, entirely too pleased with yourself as you tangled your fingers into his hair, pulling until he groaned.

“this is the last time,” his voice was ragged against your lips, but the words sounded half-hearted, he was trying to convince himself.

you smirked, pulling back just enough to catch your breath, tilting your head to test him, see if he’d let you go. instead, his hand was already sliding up your neck, his thumb tracing the line of your lips, holding you right there.

“you think you’re so clever, don’t you?” he whispered, breathless. “think you can just look at me like that, say whatever you want…”

“who says i can’t?” you purred, lips brushing against his as you taunted, “if you don't want this, maybe you should go.”

his grip tightened, a curse slipping past his pretty lips, streaked with the deep red of your lipstick, glossy with both your spit.

and fuck, did he look good like that—disheveled, unguarded, his face painted with your lipstick like a silent confession of just how far he’d let himself go with you despite his fucked morals.

rafe let out a shaky breath, his forehead resting against yours as he muttered, “last time, swear to god.”

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1864reruns · 1 day ago

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ㅤㅤㅤ౨ৎ ace & dog privileges

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ2024 ©1864RERUNS

includingㅤ━ㅤportgas d. ace

tag(s)&warning(s). drabble, fem/afab! reader, established relationship, creep, reader has BOOBS, i'm sorry flat chesters, this ain't for you, crack treated so seriously, this is not nearly as poetic as my other drabbles sorry, pervert! ace

from vyon. nasty dog but he's tamed so it's okay! 🎀 THIS IS SO STUPID I'M SORRY LMFAO

he's so focused on you that it takes him a second— his attention never divided when you're in front of him, or, well divided onto other things. ace was doing his best, listening to you and staring at your chest equally; you know that he's looking, you don't mind really. you think you'd be a little suspicious actually if ace's eyes weren't systematically rising up to look at your eyes and then moving down to linger at the curve of your chest through your tank top.

his eyes move up again after he gets his fix, stupid smile on his face, as you continue on with your story. your eyes moved over to the side, peeking over his shoulder but he doesn't make much of it when your eyes moved back to him. then, for listening to you and being such a good boyfriend, he treats himself to looking back down to stare at your chest.

his face falls when he sees that you've closed your jacket around your torso, his jaw slack open and eyes widened in horror. "babe..." he called out, a small whisper as he reached out over the table like you two were mourning over a friend's death or like you'd just told him you've done something horrible and he needed to show you support.

"what?" your eyebrows furrowed together, a hand moving towards his open palms on the table. your other arm is still pulling your jacket together.

you follow his gaze back down to your chest before the realisation hits you— the idiot was whimpering because he couldn’t get a good look at your boobs of all things. you kick him under the table, aggrieved. "there's some guy behind you that i think has been having a staring contest with my tits."

"who the hell—?" ace's eyebrows creaks, his smile twitching as his hands turned down on the table; he straightened up, slowly turning himself around. he has half the mind not to go over there and fuck up this random guy for commiting two grevious crimes against him. count one, staring at tits that should be for his eyes only; count two, forcing you to hide said beautiful chest from his view?

actually. "i'm going over there."

"ace—"

"i'm not living in a world where you have to cover up your beautiful rack 'cause of some fucking creep." he straightens up, you pull on his arm; ace looked down at you, annoyed, and then he turned to look at the guy who'd taken to looking at ace now because of his movement. "fuck you think you lookin' at? get your own fuckin' girl."

"dressed like that, she's our girl."

you let go of ace's arm, raising your hands in surrender. "have fun."

ace grinned, stepping out over the bench. "knew you'd come 'round." he leaned down to press a kiss against your cheek and his hand sneaks a squeeze of your boob, "for good luck." he claimed— then he's running off to 'protect your honor' or maybe stake his claim on your boobs.

"wear whatever you want, babe." ace tells you sometime later, after you both make a quick exit from the scene of the crime. his arm slung over your shoulder, obviously taking advantage of his height to get a bird's eye view of your 'beautiful rack', "ohhhh, that mesh lace shirt that you wear over nothing but your bra is fuckin' gorgeous." he remembered.

he rambles on and on, somehow planning outfits for you in the distant future— all of them are planned around tops that promise a view of your tits but you don't really mind. ace'll be there anyways to protect your honor.

#op production: circa. 1864 #one piece #op #one piece drabble #op drabble #one piece x reader #op x reader #portgas d ace #ace #ace drabble #ace x reader #ace x you #portgas ace x reader #portgas ace x you #one piece crack

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ashwhowrites · 3 days ago

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Hello, I love your stories and I hope you can make my fun request

Can you do Eddie Munson x Death fem reader

So hear me out let's say there in the upside down (11 and everyone isn't in California there in Hawkins and in the upside down with them and while they where chilling out in the upside down when Steve got hurt all of the sudden they heard whistling and turned and see a badass fem reader and walked up to 11 and starts toying with her (just like the wolf from puss and boots yk Death and when they figured out she's actually death they somehow get her a change of heart (after she tried to kill 11 and showed off her power a bit) and her and Eddie fall in love or Eddie falls first.

Sorry if it’s long

This was actually so fun and I loved writing the Death character. So if anyone else loves it, feel free to request ( once they are open ) for more death reader. I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Death was inspired by Rio from Agatha all along, won't lie. But the Death character is NOT Rio. If that makes sense. Just don't think Aubrey plaza is the reader because she's not, just was an inspiration so I wanted to give the credit to that.

Lady Death

"I FUCKING hate these bats," Steve growled. Nancy sat on her knees as she tried to cover Steve's wounds.

"What the hell is this place?" Eddie asked once he caught his breath. All he knew was that he jumped off a boat and was in a hell pit.

"The upside down," El said. She was looking around, almost like she felt the presence of something no one had seen yet.

"Oh great, so I have to fight to survive in the normal world, and now I have to survive in this sewer-type place? And this girl has powers?" Eddie asked frantically. He knew somewhat of everything that was going on, he just didn't believe it was a real place.

"Dude, I've already told you all of this!" Dustin argued.

"No offense, kid. But I figured you were full of shit!'" Eddie spat.

"Guys! Quiet," El demanded. Everyone went silent as they looked at her. She closed her eyes, trying to feel what was wrong. "There's something here," she whispered.

"Yeah, flesh-eating bats!" Steve hissed.

Before anyone could say anything, El was flung across the ground.

"EL!" Mike shouted, running over to her. But before he could come in contact with her, she was evaluated into the air. The gang watched in horror as she seemed to be held up by her throat, by an invisible force.

"What's going on?" Robin panicked. Nancy worked faster to clean up Steve.

The sound of someone whistling filled their ears. The gang all turned to see a woman walking towards them. She was dressed in a skin-tight green bodysuit, holes on the sides that showed skin, a green crown on her head, and a dangerous smirk playing on her lips.

Everyone stared at her in fear and awe. She was incredibly beautiful, but nothing alive behind her eyes.

"Poor little El, not so strong anymore, huh?" The lady mocked, she flicked her wrist and El fell to the floor. Mike raced over to her, this time able to collect her body in his arms.

"Who are you?" El asked, panting as she took air into her lungs.

"She's Death," Eddie said in awe. Everyone looked at him shocked, how did he know who she was?

Even she was surprised. She was fast, appearing in front of Eddie in seconds as she gripped his neck. Eddie tried to cover up the fact that he was incredibly turned on by her harsh touch.

"Who are you?" she questioned, Eddie blushed under her studying eyes. She took in every inch of his face, something about him was familiar.

"Edward Munson," he choked out. The gang didn't move an inch, staring at the two.

"How do you know who I am?" She released his throat to allow him to speak. She flicked her wrist and everyone in the gang was thrown to the ground. They were stuck, not able to move a muscle.

Eddie was a little scared, looking at his friends and some people he barely knew trapped under her power.

"I've read about you. You collect souls, right? El was supposed to die from Vecna but she escaped. Unfinished business and now you have to finish her," Eddie explained, "am I right, Y/N?"

Y/N stepped away from the boy. She felt uneasy that he seemed to know everything. No one was supposed to know who she was until she took their soul, of course.

With her distracted, the gang ran over to El. El was quick to use her own powers, sending Y/N in the air and harshly crashing into the ground. Her head hit the ground with a thud and her body went still.

"LET'S GO!" Steve yelled, the gang nodded and all ran to make their escape. Eddie went to follow but when he took a look at Y/N's limp body on the floor, he stopped.

"Eddie, come on!" Dustin said, gesturing his hands to show that everyone was leaving.

"We can't just leave her," Eddie argued, against his better judgement he walked towards her.

"You said it yourself, she's Death. I think she's capable of handling a bump on the head," Mike sassed. He was annoyed that Eddie seemed to care about a stranger that was more than willing to kill El.

Eddie ignored Mike's words, kneeling down as he rolled her body over. There was a gash on her head, blood running down the side of her face. Eddie didn't have anything on him to help, but he ripped the end of his shirt and tied it around her head. He watched as his white shirt began to stain with her blood, but he didn't mind.

She couldn't die, he knew that. But he wouldn't feel right leaving her behind with no help at all.

~~~

It's been a few days since the encounter with Death, and she was in everyone's head ( just for different reasons.) El thought of her as a new enemy and most of the gang were terrified to know they were that close to Death.

But she was in Eddie's mind for a different reason. When he was younger he loved reading about death and what happened in the afterlife. He learned what death was, who death was. She's been around for centuries but never aged. Still the beautiful girl, who lost her soul too young.

Eddie often felt a connection to her. She didn't have a family, or any friends. People were scared of her, banished her, leaving her alone for years and years. She was like Eddie and Eddie was just like her. He was alone and banished in his own way, but they had much in common.

He couldn't leave her behind because he understood the pain of being alone. The pain of everyone running away, terrified. He wanted her to feel cared about for once.

Something about Eddie humanized her in a sense. She hadn't felt anything in her body since she died. She didn't feel emotions, her heart, not even her lungs. But when she was near him, touching and seeing him, she felt a beat in her chest. A flutter in her stomach.

Her body felt alive

She was able to trace where he lived from the property of his shirt. She carried the blood stained shirt in her hand as she walked through the woods, looking for his trailer park.

She felt that same beat in her chest as she walked past a small trailer. Random chairs in the front and an ash tray by the door. She walked away, the beat in her chest decreasing. With furrowed eyebrows, she walked backwards, the beat increased.

"Well look at that, having a heart is good for something," she scoffed, turning in the direction of the trailer.

She didn't knock, using her powers to fling the door right off the hinges.

Eddie was brushing his teeth when he heard his front door slam a wall.

"Shit!" He swore through his foamy mouth. He figured a big gust of wind blew through the door but when he came out, he saw Y/N standing in his house. His toothbrush hung from his mouth as he stared at her in shock.

"On-mf-e-sec-mff," he said through the foam. He turned and raced back in his bathroom to spit out the paste and rinse his mouth. He jumped when Y/N appeared behind him.

"Um, hi," Eddie said, staring at her reflection. She stood tall behind him, peaking over his shoulder. Her hair was down, framing her face. She was in her death clothes, the tight bodysuit making him gulp.

"You gave me this," she spoke bluntly. She held his shirt, hanging from her fingertips. He turned around and grabbed the shirt, tossing it to the floor.

"Thanks for bringing it back," he smiled. She flinched as she felt her heart race. But recovered with a smile.

"You're welcome," she said, turning around and walking out. Eddie followed, confusion on his face.

"Wait, where are you going?" He asked, moving to cut her off. Her body slammed against his and she stepped back. Her face stone cold.

"I dropped off the shirt. That's all that needed to be done," she said. Eddie frowned, thinking about how the only time she's in someone's presence is to kill them.

"Hey, you know you can be around people for fun, not just take their souls," the comment sounded like he was a dick but he was genuine about it. He closed the door and moved to his couch, patting the seat next to him.

She eyed him, moving cautiously and sitting next to him. "Well, thank you," she smiled. "And thank you for helping me."

"You don't have to thank me. I promise my friends are kind people, they just had to fight for their lives a few too many times," Eddie sadly laughed.

"You haven't?" She asked, Eddie could feel her eyes. He turned his head to look at her, trying not to get lost in her eyes.

"I have, I just understand how it feels to be the one that's left behind. I've studied you my whole life and you're not as scary as the books made you seem."

Y/N was in awe of the softness he showed and offered her. She couldn't remember when was the last time she got to be in someone's company.

"And by far more beautiful in person," he said, softer and quieter than before. Her heart fluttered and she felt her skin getting warm.

She felt shy, moving her head to hide away but his hand reached out. She jumped slightly at the feeling of his hand on her warm cheek. The eye contact felt intense, like she was in a trance and unable to look away. She didn't want to anyway, she wanted to stare at him all day long.

"You know, since you brought back my shirt. I think I owe you for your kindness," he whispered. Her stomach flipped as a small smile formed on his face. His perfect pink lips stretched as his white teeth were on display. She turned her head to the side, questioning him.

"You hungry?" He asked, "for food not souls." He clarified. She couldn't help but giggle at his words.

"I could eat," she smiled. He smiled back, standing up and grabbing her hand. He was prepared to go right out the door but then he stopped.

"Would you maybe feel more comfortable in..uh-" he stuttered, still feeling the effects of her suit clinging to her body and showing off her figure. "Comfier clothes?"

"What are the options?"

"Steve, if I hear you moan and bitch about the bats one more time, I will cut you myself," Robin threatened.

"I'd like a little support here! I could've died!" Steve argued. Nancy laughed to herself as the two began to argue. Jonathan had his arm thrown around her shoulder, looking down at the menu.

Eddie walked in, his hand in hers as he looked around for an open table. He was shocked to see Steve, Robin, Nancy and Jonathan at a table.

Steve looked up and his eyes locked on Eddie, and then the girl next to him. Eddie gave him a small wave but turned the other direction, leading Y/N. They sat at a table, with her back to his friends.

Steve raced over to their table, he wanted to see if his eyes were seeing things. But as he made it to them, his eyes were right. Eddie was holding hands with Death.

"Can I talk to you?" Steve asked, his eyes on Eddie.

"One second," Eddie said, softly kissing her hand before he let go.

The two huddled over to the side, Steve whispering harshly.

"Are you insane?"

"She's still a person!" Eddie argued

"She's a killer, Eddie. You can't just get sucked into her looks. She's evil."

"She's not! It's a job. She doesn't kill randomly. She only goes when she's called. There's some human inside of her, I'm going to bring it out. She just needs someone to show her" Eddie explained.

"You are going to risk yourself and all your friends because you want to find the human in her?" Steve scoffed, "I don't believe there's any human in her," Steve looked over at the table. She sat drumming her fingers as she twirled a knife in the air with her powers.

Eddie sighed, knowing she wasn't helping his case.

Steve noticed a look in Eddie's eyes. He was desperate and he had this soft look when his eyes cast over her.

"You fell for her already, didn't you?" Steve chuckled. It was nice to see Eddie had a romantic side to him. Steve remembered the feeling of falling in love for the first time.

"Yes," Eddie sighed. "Which I know is crazy but trust me, she came to my house and do you know how easily she could have killed me if she wanted to?"

Steve sighed, he nodded his head. Sometimes he hated being a good friend.

"Well," he puffed, landing his hand on Eddie's shoulder, "Enjoy your date. And the gang will need to hear all about it."

The hand that was on Eddie's shoulder was suddenly ripped off. Steve cried out as his arm was bent backwards behind his back and slammed into a wall.

"Y/N!" Eddie hissed, taking her body off of Steve's.

The rest of the gang looked at the commotion, fast on their feet to run to Steve.

"Sorry!" Y/N said, a look of shock in her eyes. "I felt something burn in my body and lost it."

"From what?" Steve asked, his eyes huge as he sassed the girl, who he now noticed was dressed in Eddie's clothes.

"You touched Eddie," Y/N shrugged. She wasn't exactly sure herself.

"What's going on?" Robin asked. Quickly looking Death up and down, which didn't go unnoticed by Eddie. He snapped his fingers and Robin looked at him.

"Well," Steve said as he rubbed his arm, "looks like Eddie and um Y/N here are on a date."

The gang were shocked, not sure what to say.

"And she's the jealous type," Steve added through his clenched teeth.

"I'll stop by later and talk yeah? I'd like to enjoy my date," Eddie said as he slipped his hand into hers.

"Uh sure," Nancy said, still giving the two a weird look. Jonathan kept quiet, but he was just as confused.

The gang walked back to their table, Robin looking over her shoulder as the two sat back down.

"How the hell did he manage to swing her? She's way too hot for him," Robin scoffed.

"Oh little Rob, we'll get you your own little Death lover," Steve teased.

~~~

Within a few months, Y/N was around more often. She was glued to Eddie's side whenever she could be. Eddie loved it. He loved always having someone on his arm, and he wasn't mad about the kisses that were always placed on his skin.

The gang accepted her, a little on edge at times but she was mostly harmless. It was clear that the two were head over heels for each other in their own ways.

The times she was called to do her work, Eddie waited in his trailer. His heart warming when she appeared back within minutes, claiming she missed him.

Then she'd slide in his lap, Eddie's hands landing on her hips. He rubbed his thumb against her skin, thankful for the holes in her suit. He was guilty of getting hard whenever he saw her dressed in her suit. She was Death so of course she was mean about it. Rocking her hips against him as she slowly kissed his lips.

She was his and he was hers.

Who knew Death could make someone feel so alive.

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt @ineedmentalhelp123

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson fluff x reader #ashwhowrites #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson x death reader

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01zfan · 9 hours ago

Text

that's my floor | j. sc

sungchan x reader | 5.8k words

another commission! inspired by that's my floor by magdalena bay.

contains: hooking up at a house party, yearning, hopeless pining, dry humping, fingering

You wanted Sungchan to catch you for the longest. The first year of classes you wanted him to look over his shoulder two rows behind him and catch you looking at him. You wanted him to catch you in the grassy quad with your group of friends, you wanted him to catch you at the million other functions you both happened to be at the same time.

So when you were hiding in the corner of the kitchen where a week prior all that want reared its ugly head, the last thing you expected was to hear his voice behind you.

“I’ve been trying to catch you all night.” He said.

Still facing away from Sungchan, you prayed he was talking to someone else. Even though the kitchen was empty, and you approached him first a week ago, you prayed that you were hearing things.

But when you still felt his presence behind you, and you felt his hand reach out to your shoulder, you knew it was real. You had no choice but to turn around slowly, fixing the look of horror on your face to show surprise.

“I didn’t know you were here.” You said.

You knew Sungchan was here. He was the first person you saw when you walked in. He was the first person you always looked for when you would come to Wonbin’s parties. He was standing in the same place he was last week, right past the doorframe where the living room turned into the hallway that led to the bathrooms and bedrooms. That was always the place he gravitated towards at Wonbin’s house parties. The spot was where Sungchan and his friends usually convened, in between their runs to the kitchen for more alcohol or into the living room for snacks and entertainment.

Usually, you stayed on the opposite side. Leaned up against the wall underneath the fairy light decorations. A drink in your hand and Wonbin at your side, subtly trying to corral you to the other side of the room by nudging your shoulder and flicking his head.

“I’m not doing it.” You said sternly.

You nursed your drink and avoided looking directly at Sungchan like your life depended on it. Your other hand was picking at the end of your skirt nervously at the mere thought of walking over to him. You kept your eyes absentmindedly forward, looking through the throngs of people not letting your gaze settle on one spot for too long.

“Just go talk to him.” Wonbin spoke directly in your ear over the loud music. “You always talk about talking to him.” He said.

Sungchan leaned against the white wall the same way you leaned against the counter in the corner of the kitchen, but he wasn’t cowering or hiding by any means. He talked to anyone that approached him, forcing those trying to navigate the space to squeeze against the wall to get by. Sungchan noticed each time, gently grabbing his friends arm to move them out of the way so people could pass by freely. He smiled at whoever was going each time they said thank you, and shook his head gently each time they tried to apologize.

For a moment you entertain talking to him. You could weave through the crowd of your mutual friends to act like you’re getting something from the snack table that sits next to the doorway. A white blanket resting over an outdoor table with chips and cookies, you could linger around, faking curiosity until you heard a break in Sungchan’s conversation. You could swoop in once one of his friends left, mentioning the class you had together or that you two always conveniently went to the corner store near campus at the same time.

But then you imagined getting so nervous you’d stumble over your words, or just linger at the table before psyching yourself out and going right back to your side of the living room. The thought of it makes you shake your head and turn your gaze back to the kitchen island that was filled with bottles of liquor.

“Absolutely not.” You say.

Wonbin is all but convinced. He shakes his head when you speak, looking towards you but pointing in the general direction of Sungchan.

“He’s actually a really sweet guy.” Wonbin says.

You focus on him again. He stands past the lights that hang from the walls in the living room, but when he leans forward or bends down to engage in conversation, the light illuminates the softest parts of his face. You have no doubt in your mind he’s sweet. You have known Sungchan for the better part of four years, starting from your first year in college all the way to your last. At orientation he was the sweet guy, mingling and forcing even the shyest ones to open up. You weren’t surprised that so many people gravitated towards him. Four years later you were still hung up on how kind he was to every person he met. The admiration you felt turned into something more around your second year, when you realized that he was smart too. It only got worse when he started coming into his own as a young adult. Now you were helplessly hung up on him, so much to the point that you would feel hot in the face just thinking about him.

“He probably already knows who you are.” Wonbin reasons.

Sungchan knowing who you were somehow felt worse than him not knowing you at all. He didn’t need to know that your schedules were almost synced up completely due to the fact that you both were pursuing the same degree, and that you two lived in the same area on campus. Sungchan didn’t need to know that you frequented the same spots at the same time for late night snacks or when you needed to get out. He didn’t need to know about your tendency to put your foot in your mouth or his habit of making you unreasonably nervous.

“Next time.” You murmur.

“You said that last time.” Wonbin comes between your line of sight and Sungchan. “I’ve been hearing about your little crush for too long now. I might end up taking matters into my own hands.”

At your friends threat you cock your head to the side. Wonbin mirrors your expression with a sinister grin. Then a moment later through the dancing crowd of people Wonbin opens his mouth. The beginning of Sungchan’s name falls from his lips and your feet move you forward deeper into the living room, desperately getting away from the situation. Wonbin’s eyes follow you as you go through the crowd, and you pray that Sungchan didn’t hear him.

You would’ve gladly spent the rest of the party in between the large group of people that danced in the living room. But at some point you wormed your way through the crowd and ended up on the other side of it, looking at the assortment of snacks on the table. As you continued to look down Sungchan was in the corner of your eye, nodding along to some conversation before he adding to it. The more you lingered the more you felt like he was looking at you. There was a break in the conversation and some of Sungchan’s friends dispersed to different parts of Wonbin’s house. It was just him alone, leaning against the wall in earshot of your voice. You held your breath and thought about what you were going to say three times. A deep breath in and you grabbed a snack, clearing your throat and turning your head towards Sungchan getting ready to speak.

“Sungchan!”

Both you and Sungchan turned your head at the same time. As you looked into the crowd to find the source of the voice Sungchan had already found it. A smile on his lips before he waved, preemptively bending down to hear her clearly.

“Minjeong. You never come to these things.” Sungchan said.

You’re not sure what Minjeong said next. You knew it couldn’t have been that funny to cause Sungchan to tilt his head back in laughter, and you know he wasn’t far enough for Minjeong to bring her hand up to his arm.

You stood next to the snack table and something akin to jealousy started boiling in your stomach. Almost immediately the jealousy turned to anger, and you were marching your heeled boots across the sticky wooden floors to the kitchen where Wonbin was already waiting for you.

From that point on, the party was a blur. Wonbin offered you something stronger to drown your sorrows despite the alcohol only making you more hellbent on remaining nonchalant. Even if you glared at the two of them from across the room you remained steadfast in answering Wonbin’s questions with a curt I’m fine before downing another drink. Before you knew it the party was thinning out and Minjeong left to catch up with her friends while Sungchan continued to talk to his.

Then the party really started winding down and you had alcohol buzzing in your system and a sense of jealousy you couldn’t quite shake.

So as Sungchan walked away from his designated spot and past where you reached out your hand and suddenly cleared your throat.

“Sungchan.” You said.

In that moment both of you seemed equally caught off guard. Sungchan stared at you and stopped completely in his tracks. Your hand was extended towards his body for a prolonged period of time before you hesitantly brought it back to your side. You realized in that moment that you had never actually spoken to him, all those years you spent staring at the back of his head and thinking about him gave you a false sense of knowing him. So when it sunk in that you were essentially a stranger to Sungchan despite knowing everything about him, you cleared your throat again.

“Have a nice night.” You said.

Sungchan cocked his head to the side at your abrupt well wishes. You felt a creeping sense of blush pink embarrassment wash over you, and in your haste you focused on finding Wonbin. Something to bridge the terrible gap between you and Sungchan that became a chasm in a matter of seconds. But before you could locate your mutual friend Sungchan nodded and raised his hand towards you briefly.

“Thanks.” He continued to walk, heading towards his friends that were already out the door. “You too.” He replied.

You held onto your short interaction with Sungchan entirely too much. His confused face flashed through your mind anytime there was a moment of silence, causing you to cringe inwardly. You thought about his awkward hand gesture towards you as he was leaving the party, and his reply that he seemed confused by. He was probably confused by the whole interaction. You caught him off guard, you caught yourself off guard. You no longer trusted yourself to be in his presence.

To never be caught in the same situation again, you avoided Sungchan at all costs. You came to class long before Sungchan did instead of arriving at the same time. You walked up rows of stairs now to avoid being in his line of sight, sitting behind a cluster of your classmates so he couldn’t see you. When he turned in his seat you sunk into yours, hiding in the spine of your textbook or behind the screen of your laptop. When you saw Sungchan at the corner store near campus you avoided him completely, feigning focus on random labels of snacks instead of Sungchan curiously looking down the aisles. You ignored the awkward hand waves he did towards you, the sound of your shared snack choices moving around in his basket. Instead you were focused on the nutritional facts of garbanzo beans and the low sound of pop music playing from the speakers.

You spent a week avoiding Sungchan by any means you thought you had finally succeeded. You thought that he had gone back to ignoring your presence. Your voice conveyed so much shock that he recoiled, bringing his hand that was on your shoulder back to his side before he looked away. Sungchan’s hand that went to the back of his neck showed that he didn’t realize you were running around and leaving rooms anytime he showed an inkling of wanting to approach you. You were scared shitless, so much so that you thought it was obvious. But Sungchan looked at you from beside the kitchen island, almost looking hurt as you both tried thinking of what else to say.

“I just was seeing you all night.” Sungchan gripped the edge of the kitchen island. “Zipping around. Just wanted to talk to you for a little bit.” He says.

The way Sungchan avoids eye contact is undeniable. His eyes go to the assortment of bottles on the kitchen island and the tile walls above the kitchen. You wouldn’t that he fails to meet your gaze because you fail to do it too. Both of your eyes flitter around the kitchen and you both nervously teeter from one foot to the other. It isn’t until Sungchan brings his cup back up to his lips that he dares to look at your face.

“You caught me.” You say quietly.

Sungchan nods his head.

“I caught you.” He affirms.

The party continues on beyond the kitchen. More people Wonbin knows come through the front door, cheering loud enough that causes other people to cheer with them. The living room becomes so packed that the crowd bleeds past the threshold of the kitchen. The party continues to expand, before you know it you and Sungchan are pushed closer and closer together by the growing crowd.

“You know.” Sungchan has to bend down to talk directly into your ear. The more people that came into the party the louder the music became. “I’m more attentive than you give me credit for.” He says.

The way he speaks almost sounds like his feelings are hurt. You should really take the words he says to you at face value.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You reply.

You really should have taken the words he said at face value. Because now there’s no denying to heat that spreads across your face and the smile you can’t control. You can practically hear the smile in Sungchan’s voice as he gets closer to you.

“I know you didn’t ask but me and Minjeong are just friends.” Sungchan points to one of his friends, standing in their designated spot as he talks to another person. “She’s dating my roommate. She rarely comes out so I was just surprised to see her is all.”

You keep your eyes towards the same doorframe you saw Sungchan last week, the same place you attempted to enter his orbit. The situation then threw you off balance, but the way he now leans in closely and nods at you makes your hands almost shake. But there is something nagging at you more than anything. The question eats at you while you rub the edge of the red solo cup and when girls come to inspect their choice of alcohol you force yourself to look up at Sungchan. He takes in your pensive look immediately, he blinks away the amusement from your joke to a worried look.

“Can I ask you something?” You ask with a smile, and the girls in the radius of your conversation get a little quieter as they make their selection of alcohol.

You watch Sungchan get visibly nervous. His own gaze flits to the girls briefly before he brings his red solo cup to his lips. He pulls away and you can see him try his best to hide the bitter taste behind a head nod.

“Go ahead.” He answers.

You nod, suddenly aware that now you have to ask the question. You look away from Sungchan’s intense gaze, causing him to lean a little closer. He fully invades your space now, causing your hand to clench around your plastic cup and to bite on your lips.

You realize in that moment that you’ve never been this close to Sungchan before. You’ve never been able to see how long his eyelashes are, how they fan his face between each blink of his curious eyes. You’ve never had to look up to him before, from such a distance he’s always been eye level.

“Did you ever notice me?” You ask.

Sungchan nods his head immediately. He looks into his cup for a second and smiles wistfully to himself. You can feel your heart thudding in your chest.

“I noticed you.”

Sungchan speaks so suddenly it catches you by surprise. You lean your head back and Sungchan slightly leans forward. His hand grips the edge of the island as thinks carefully, his lips pull tight and he looks up to the ceiling of the kitchen. You move to your other foot and feel the urge to press your hand deep over your ribcage.

“I didn’t think you wanted me to.” He looks at the tiled surface of the counter before looking to you. “But I noticed.” He says carefully.

Last week you talked for Sungchan for the first time, a brash decision caused by alcohol and jealousy. Now he was squeezing you past his friends as you ducked your way towards Wonbin’s room. You barely remember the progression from standing beside the island in the kitchen to walking behind him. His hand that was hesitant in touching you was confidently placed on the small of your back, inching further and further down as his body got closer to yours. You were operating on Sungchan’s guiding hand alone, each time the crowded party caused Sungchan’s front to press against your back caused your mind to blank. Your feet dragged across Wonbin’s living room floor, you two managed to squeeze through the entire party without a single person noticing you. Sungchan’s roommate only dapped him up as you continued down the hallway towards Wonbin’s room. You didn’t even have the chance to look behind you before Sungchan’s body was pressed against yours again, his hand reaching forward to open the bedroom door.

“You know this means you can’t avoid me around campus anymore, right?” Sungchan says as the door clicks closed behind you.

You can’t bring yourself to think about anything except Wonbin’s unoccupied and neatly made bed in front of you and Sungchan’s hands that grip your waist behind you. Your mind refuses to deviate from the task at hand. You have no brainpower left to try and convince Sungchan that you’ve blatantly ignored him the past week. You can only turn around and bring yourself to look at him for a second before you close the distance between your lips. With a simple tug at his collar Sungchan understands entirely too fast, a hand goes to your cheek the same time his other hand reaches behind him to turn the lock on the doorknob. Immediately his hand returns to your waist the same time you tilt your head to kiss him deeper. His hand on your cheek is soft, his lips that refuse to kiss you with the same fervor is even softer.

Sungchan walks you backwards towards Wonbin’s bed but lets you turn him. Within seconds it’s you impatiently walking on his feet, and you do a terrible job of guiding his body backwards. You truthfully don’t know where you are, you barely remember what you’re doing until his legs hit the edge of the bed. Sungchan takes his hands from your hips to break his landing on the mattress. You realize you’ve come in entirely too hot when Sungchan loses his balance, his palms planting into the bed is the only thing that stabilizes him.

With you looking down at Sungchan and him looking up at you, the situation you found yourself in began to slowly sink in. Sungchan was already making himself comfortable on the bed, looking up to you like you had all the power in the world. Your spit glistened on his lip and the music continued playing. The bass shook the floor you stood on and the more you realized Sungchan wanted you the more you believed you were going to ruin it all. The tension built between you two over the course of years felt like it was at risk of dissipating in seconds. You were practically waiting for Sungchan to blink the lust away from his eyes, you were waiting for a switch to flip that would make him forget you all over again. You had convinced yourself were at risk of being right at square one despite Sungchan pulling himself to the center of the bed and reaching out to your waist in a silent invitation.

All it takes is one gentle pull from Sungchan before your crawling on the bed after him. He lays on his back you get on the bed with your knees planted on either side of him. You start your way up his body the same time his hands start on your bare thigh, palming and rubbing your soft skin slowly. The mattress creaks underneath your knees, the sound drowns out your quiet exhales and your thighs brushing against Sungchan’s jeans. You look at the indent your weight is making in the dark comforter before you finally bring your gaze up to Sungchan.

Everything stops when you find he’s already looking at you. A half-lidded gaze that would’ve made you look away any other time, but for the first time ever you focus on him completely. You do not want to waste a single second not looking at him. You don’t want to miss the way his hand hesitantly works further up your body as he blinks away the arousal to show sincerity.

“I don’t want you to think I planned this.” He slowly drags his hands up, one gripping your waist and the other pressed into your lower stomach. He makes your hips come further down to press against his, and you feel his length against your clothed cunt. Sungchan’s eyes go down to where you two are so close to meeting, the lightest graze downwards to feel the cotton fabric and elastic trim of your panties. “I didn’t chat you up just to fuck.” He says truthfully.

Sungchan is admittedly already lost in you. His voice is far off as he speaks to you, almost falling underneath the baseline of the party that continues on downstairs. The low hum of lyrics leak through the walls, and the occasional yell of something happening upstairs fills the silence between the two of you. But Sungchan isn’t focused on the music or the people, he is focused on the soft skin of your lower stomach against his fingertips.

He was two seconds away from grabbing your stomach and watching the flesh spill between the gaps of his fingers when you dragged your hips against his. Suddenly it was the sound of fabric filling the room, his denim catching against cotton and the sound of mutual sharp inhales.

“Who says we’re fucking?” You ask.

Your heart is pounding in your chest at your bold words. The word fucking felt foreign rolling off your tongue in this context, but the way Sungchan’s gaze snapped up to you gave you confidence. His hand completely loosening its grip emboldened you enough to repeat the motion. Your hips were laid heavy against Sungchan’s body as you moved forward, feeling his constrained and twitching dick rub against you.

“You’ll have to take me out to dinner first.” When you grind your hips a third time you have to lean forward, your hands pressing into the mattress on either side of Sungchan’s head. The new positioning allows you to drag your hips with more fluidity. Warmth comes off of him in waves. His head warms your hands, the heat radiating from his body pressed against yours almost feels like a flame. When you swivel to again Sungchan’s hands go to your hips, experimentally pressing you down further. “I’m not that easy.” You chide.

Sungchan is nodding his head in an instant. He parts his lips to speak as you grind your hips against his again, instead of speaking he swallows. You swear you can feel every inch of him, even when layers of clothes separate your sexes.

“I’ll take you out.” Sungchan breathes out, closing his eyes and pressing his head into the mattress as he slows your hips down. “I’m going to take you to that place Wonbin said you like.” He laments.

You only nod back to him. The sensation of grinding against him is intoxicating. Like the layer of clothes have been shed you can feel his warmth flood you like he’s inside, and the way he grips at your waist only increases the feeling. Your eyebrows knit together when you flick your hips a different way, the new sensation lighting up your spine.

“I swear I can feel you.” Sungchan whines it to the ceiling. His thumbs press deep into your stomach, and you clutch the sheets beside his head. “Can you feel me?” He asks.

“Yeah.” You whine.

Your eyes are screwed shut for a moment, focusing on repeating that same motion that made you feel like you were on fire. Sungchan’s hand reaches further up, grabbing a handful of your chest and you move into his touch.

“Where can you feel me?” He asks.

When you open your eyes again Sungchan is already looking up at you. His pupils are blown out and you’re sure you looked the same, complete with the bitten lips and death grips behind your hands. Your shaky hand lets go of the sheets and drifts to your stomach, a heavy hand tracing over Sungchan’s torso. He freezes up underneath your touch, but you watch the muscles of his stomach tense when your hand lays flat on your lower stomach. You press deep into your stomach and it causes your hips to twitch erratically. As if the tension is a real tangible thing in the pit of your gut you stimulate it, looking down at Sungchan when you start moving your hips in a circle.

“I can feel you here.” You answer.

Both of you know that technically Sungchan is nowhere close to being inside of you. There’s two pairs of underwear, jeans, and about four years of pining that separate you. You both know that even if you’re grinding on Sungchan’s dick and he’s keeping your cunt flush to him, there’s still so much left to the imagination. He doesn’t know what you look like laying bare for him and you don’t know what his dick looks like free of its confines. But you’ve yearned for this so long your mind has been prepared to fill the gaps. You have been walking in the desert for years, so of course having a drop of water feels like you’re drowning. You can feel his dick throbbing like a rock forming in the pit of your stomach. Each drag of your hips is like swimming deeper and deeper to the end, Sungchan’s breathy groans that you’ve dreamed about pulls you under.

“I can feel it too.” Sungchan brings his gaze back up to you, eyes glazed over. “I swear I can.” He says.

Sungchan pulls himself further onto the bed, his hand goes to your lower back to keep you stable. Before you know it he’s sitting up on the bed entirely, chest pressed to yours as he puts his face in the crook of your neck.

The new angle and Sungchan’s iron grip on your body has you whining. That coil in your stomach continues to tighten, even if it’s stubborn from the lack of you being touched the way you truly need. Even if you are not getting fucked you still feel the excitement, and despite Sungchan not being inside of you he still ruts his hips upwards in a haste.

“It feels so good.” He feels your skin that’s hot to the touch, he feels your hair tickling the side of his face and he feels your heart beating against his chest. He can feel the atmosphere surrounding you two, the undeniable tension that you were unknowingly avoiding. Even if he can’t technically feel the way your walls close around nothing sporadically, he can feel something. “You feel so good.” He sighs.

You nod your head against his. You can feel it too.

“Sungchan, I’m so close.” You whine.

The bass from the music downstairs gets louder, shaking the floor the bed resides on and the walls that are closing you and Sungchan in. You can feel the energy of the party increase tenfold, and the electricity between you and Sungchan threatens to fry your brain to a crisp. Everything is too much, entirely too much.

When Sungchan pulls his body away from yours and props his hand behind his back, you feel overwhelmed. Your hips control you now, moving almost in a frenzy chasing after something that already feels like it’s fleeting.

His eyes go down to your panties, he watches the cotton fabric move against his jeans intensely before his gaze goes back up to you. Without a word Sungchan takes his hand from behind him and holds onto you tighter. With you as his new anchor he pushes his hand past the elastic band of your panties, and pushes them lower and lower. When his quick hand bumps your clit your full body twitches, and when his two fingers push past your slit you go forward entirely.

You collapse into him pathetically, grasping at anything you can to steady yourself. You can feel Sungchan’s body sway from your weight, his core strength is the only thing that keeps your bodies upright. If it’s a strenuous task he doesn’t let it be known, he only rests his head on top of yours and continues pumping his fingers in and out of your heat.

“Oh my God.” Your words are muffled in his white tee, they slide out like the spit seeping from the corner of your mouth.

“I got you.” He says.

Him holding on just for you was the last thing you needed. Your hands that found their way to Sungchan’s bicep grips them so tightly you can feel your nails digging into his soft skin. You curse into his chest, and when you feel that coil snap Sungchan brings you in closer. His large hand splays against your back as your hips flick with no rhythm. You can feel Sungchan hold on for a moment longer before his body shudders underneath yours, causing his fingers to fuck you at a faster pace.

You are completely lost. You’re lost in the pressure and the feeling of Sungchan’s hard body against yours. You can barely force yourself to look upwards at through the bliss to see him, and the view is devastating. The way Sungchan looks down at you pulls you deeper to the point that you’re helplessly whimpering in his face. Sungchan starts letting out sounds of his own, whispered cursed and beginnings of grunts. When the music stops downstairs you two choose to muffle your sounds by kissing.

Instantly Sungchan slips his tongue into your mouth. You can taste him run it over your top row of teeth, then to the inside of your cheek. You moan into Sungchan’s mouth and he moans into yours. You can’t stop yourself from bringing your hands to his face and tilting it to the side. You feel another pull when Sungchan submits immediately to you, and you can feel his moans turn to whimpers inside of your mouth. For a split second you open your eyes to see his closed as he tilts his head to the other side. His cheeks are so smooth underneath your fingertips and he looks so pure, even when your spit glazes the perimeter of his lips and he moans into your mouth. For a moment you can handle it, but just like when the music picks up again there is too much going on. Your hand grabs at his that’s in your underwear and you reluctantly break apart from his lips.

“Too much.” You whimper.

Sungchan opens his eyes in a daze, for a moment his fingers still move inside of you like they have a mind of their own. When he subconsciously presses his fingers against your walls you seize again, and a cry escapes your lips.

Sungchan pulls his fingers out of you and the two of you watch as he pulls his hand from your underwear to hold your waist. The view is too much, entirely too much but you can’t bring yourself to look away. The two of you are still caught up in the sight, and when the dust settles and Wonbin starts yelling at people to leave everything starts sinking in.

You pull away completely first. Both you and Sungchan’s breathing is still labored as you look the other up and down. Your hands still shake when you ball them into first, and your first mouthful of spit you swallow still tastes like Sungchan. He was kissing you and fingering you on Wonbin’s bed, he was kissing you like his life depended on it. Everything moved so fast that it replayed like a movie in your head. Flashes of your moans and Sungchan gripping you so tight permeates the forefront of your mind. Your first instinct is to get away from him, as if there was anyway for you to expose yourself to him further.

“I’m sorry.” You mumble.

When you try to crawl off of Sungchan he grips your waist even tighter. Sungchan’s bewildered expression drops when the apology stumbles from your lips.

“Please don’t say sorry while my hand is still in your pants.” He says painfully.

You don’t think you’ve ever been in a worse situation. The tips of Sungchan’s fingers are still hidden underneath your jeans, you can still feel the bottom of his palm press into your stomach. You unintentionally squirm on his lap again, and like his foot has been stepped on Sungchan sucks in another deep breath.

“Sor—” Sungchan begging you not to say sorry makes you stop in the middle of your sentence. “My bad.” You say.

Wonbin still is yelling at people to clear out of his apartment. His voice sounds closer than it did before, like he was in that part of the hallway that either too him to the bathrooms or to his bedroom that you and Sungchan were currently occupying.

Both of you know you should get up. The more time you waste staring at eachother trying to find the words to say Wonbin gets closer and closer to discovering that his door is locked and he hasn’t seen his two bestfriends in a prolonged period of time. But you can’t stop looking at Sungchan’s lips in awe that you were kissing them minutes ago and he can’t take his hands away from your bare skin.

The door handle is turned one way then the other, causing the metal knob to twist back and forth. You can’t be bothered to turn your head. Sungchan’s hands start lightly kneading your waist.

“Who the fuck is in here?” Wonbin yells on the other side.

#commissionz #01zfan: sungchan #sungchan smut #riize smut

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the-kr8tor · 18 hours ago

Text

250 Years of Longing

Pairing: Vampire! Hobie Brown x Fem! Vampire! Reader

Word count: 5.8k

Synopsis: A brief misunderstanding leads to years of heartache. You mourn 250 years of love while his heart remains to you and only you.

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, vampire AU, divorced! Vampire! AU, established relationship, CW blood, talks of marriage, hurt/comfort, some fluff.

A/N: Special thanks to @pleaktale !!! This au was born in our dms lol

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Hobie's words are muffled in your ears as you try to hide your trembling, lovelorn body. Your head is in your hands, wide eyes downturned towards the same scruffed floors you've lived in for thirty years with him. You still remember the day you moved in, the walls were in bright yellow back then, wooden floors hidden by some gaudy shag carpet from the 70s. You still remember that decade like it was yesterday, maybe it was just yesterday, being a vampire means that time has moved differently for you. Time is merely something you gloss over, years flying by in a wink. Barely a flutter in your immortal eyes.

Even technology is moving faster and innovating quicker than you could manage to keep up. The next thing you know, you've been alive for more than 250 years.

250 years of being with him, 250 years of wearing the same identical ring, 250 years of loving him. All those 250 years are going through your mind a thousand miles per hour, your first kiss with him, your confession. Or was it him who confessed to you? Were you the one who got sick and he had to find a vampire to turn you and in turn to change him? Or was it the other way around? Memory is a fickle thing when you're older than any living human on earth. You've forgotten a lot of things, memory hazy and foggy like a dream you don't quite remember the second you wake. You wish this was just a dream, a nightmare that you'll wake up from.

“I need to try— I need to go, love.” His words wake you up from the lucid nightmare. He stands in the middle of your shared room, eyes forlorn, brows pinched together like he's in agony. “I can't stay ‘ere like this.”

If his words could kill, you'd be staked through the heart by now. 250 years of being together, practically joined at the hip. A love beyond a simple marriage on paper. And he's just standing there, breaking your long dead heart.

You look up at him through bloody tears, nails digging into your scalp as you try to hide your wails. An impossible feat. “Was it me? Did I do something?” You've faced vampire hunters together, faced horrors beyond belief to survive and continue to live with him. But you were never terrified, until now.

He immediately shakes his head, moving closer to you to take your trembling hands. The identical rings on his and your finger clinks together as he clasps your hand. “No, it's not you, love.” Kneeling down, he gazes at you through wine red eyes, bloody tears threatening to spill over his cheeks that you would always caress in your shared coffin that's hidden beneath the canopy bed you're currently languishing in.

“That's what they all say.” You utter in a small voice that he hasn't heard in decades.

Grasping your hands, he rubs his thumbs over your pulse where your heart would beat. Something he still does even though your hearts haven't beat together in sync ever since that fateful day.

“You didn't do anythin' wrong. I jus’ need to find myself, go out and see the world in my own eyes.”

You nod bitterly. “Without the burden of me.”

“That's not true, you're not a burden.” His hands reach towards your cheeks, wiping the bloody tears cascading down them like rain drops on a cold autumn day. “There are people I could help out there—”

“And I can't? Why can't you just bring me with you?” You wrench yourself away from him, walking away from the bed to give him space lest you let him see you like this. “Just say you're tired of me.” Hugging yourself, you feel his arms wrap around your middle, face tucked in the crook of your neck right where your scar sits.

“‘m not tired of you.” He says against your skin.

Your twist in his arms to face him fully, palms resting on his chest, eyes dim and scared. “Then why leave? Why do you want to leave me?” His shirt is bunched around your fists, desperate to cling to him despite his wishes. “250 years, Hobie. I've known you for more than that, been with you through all of it. I deserve to know why.” You try to reign in your anger and frustration but your fangs suddenly appearing betrays you.

“I don't want to leave you— Time, love. I jus’ need time. That's all we've got.”

You're tired, tired of asking why, tired of clinging to him like a life raft. Tired of your chest aching and feeling heavy as he looks at you with pity— was it pity? Or something else? So you let him go. Fists unfurling, palms leaving his chest as you step away from him.

“Alright.” You sniff, expression falling stiff as you straighten up. “I won't stop you.” If your love for him keeps him from doing what he loves, then you'll let him go. You can still love him from afar, even if he doesn't want you anymore.

“Love.” Hobie reaches your hand, palm sliding up to your elbows as he pulls you closer to embrace you fully. “250 years, not once did I feel I didn't love you.”

You close your eyes as you find yourself hidden atop his throat, memorizing his scent and how he holds you. Feeling how his own tears drip down on you, how his skin feels against your own. Memory is a fickle thing, you'll soon forget, but you don't want to. So you'll cling to him, even if it's just a memory of him.

“I love you, y’know that right?” He whispers to you, and only to you.

“I—” you falter. If you say it back, it feels like goodbye. And you don't want to say goodbye to the one person you have loved for centuries. “—I know, Hobie.” You could only say, saying it back means that you're never going to see him again. Saying it back means it's the end.

He could only hold onto you tighter, lips pecking the crown of your head so gently that you barely felt it in your lovelorn state.

You've got time, but it won't be spent with him. Eternity would feel empty for you now.

—

It's been six months of being alone, six months since he moved out to find his purpose. He wanted to leave partly so you could also find yourself and be yourself without his presence. 250 years of being together would do that. He doesn't know where he ends and begins when your soul and his own are tangled together for eternity. And he wants that for you too— to be your own self and not just another vampire in the cursed flock.

To be a better eternal partner for you is one of his goals, he needed to leave so he could be better, so he could be good to you for another 250 years more.

And he's willing— wishing that he gets to spend eternity with you after he's satisfied with what he has done to help people. He just hopes that you'd be home to welcome him back once he does. He's sure that you're already making good progress in finding yourself. He already misses you. A lot.

He's already aching for home and your embrace.

So much has happened in those six months, he's excited to tell you everything he has encountered. And even more excited to hear your voice again, to hold you again and sleep in the same coffin with you again and not the shoddy temporary coffin he made out of planks to rest in. He can already see your ecstatic face when he enters the abode again.

Ned has told him that he won't last a year without you. He'd know, Hobie has been friends with him for almost a hundred years now. But he refuses to let him win, even though he really wants to see you right now, or even call you on one of those phones that people seem to be addicted to. But you haven't picked up his calls, or even answered his letters. He has sent one everyday since he left, he's starting to worry now. Even the crew who urged him to go on a worldwide mission with him has placed bets on when he'll run back to you. With the earliest being tomorrow, and the longest being a year. He intends to make them lose, but by god, he misses you so damn much that he's starting to see you in his dreams. And see glimpses of you in the corner of his eyes.

He doesn't regret his decision, but a part of him thinks that you were right— that he should've brought you with him on his journey. Without you his frozen heart feels like it's out of his own body. Walking around without him, living without him. But he knows that it's for the best. It's only temporary, he keeps repeating to himself every night. He'll be with you soon.

As he writes today's letter, he smiles, hands scribbling his day away on the fragrant paper that he knows you'd love especially when it's sprayed with his own perfume.

He can't wait to see you back home.

—

You were absolutely losing it in that house. You keep seeing him everywhere. With every clatter in the halls, you run towards it in hopes that it's him making a ruckus in the kitchen. With every shadow cast on the walls, you see him walking towards you, arms outstretched to hold you. And then for a moment, he's gone, like a whiff of smoke billowing from a lit cigar.

The house that has love built within its walls seems to tilt in your vision. Weighed down by your grief. You don't know where to place your feeling of abandonment, do you place it in the kitchen where you two used to feed together? Or do you put it right next to your withdrawal, your need to be with him once again?

You choke on your own need.

So you take a page from Hobie's book and left. After just two days of him being gone, you packed your bags and headed out to nowhere. You can't stay anywhere that you have stayed with him before, you're afraid that you'll burst into bloodied tears if you even get a whiff of the same place where you two met all those centuries ago.

You haven't felt this alone since you were nineteen, well, you haven't been nineteen in a long time. You could barely remember your days before you were turned— died. It's like looking into a window of a well lit house whose occupants you once knew well but couldn't talk to anymore. In that well lit house is you and him. Just you and him, him and you.

The lamp posts are hazy in your eyes, buildings whizzing by in a blur of crimson tears. You took the midnight bus, hand never leaving the ring on your finger, and just sat there until the route ended. Then you rode a train, then a boat. And again and again until you reached a little coastal town with a name you could barely remember on good days. And with bad days, the crying comes and goes. Chest still aching, claw marks left all over the tiny cottage you brought.

A dark cloud has settled on you, but with each day passes, with each interaction from the town’s people with their good nature and good intentions, the dark cloud slowly ebbs away. The sun shines on you once again after a year and a half without him, it doesn't burn you nor scorch your skin anymore, it lights your way. The people and the soft sea breeze helped you cope through the uncertainty of being alone.

250 years of togetherness, and not one day you've felt alone, or felt like you've wasted your time with him. 250 years of memories, not one you felt like it went all down the drain. It was worth it, all the calm days to the rough one, it was all worth it.

You still wish to see him, to talk to him, to taste his saccharin ichor on your tongue; to kiss him until you're both laughing against each other's kiss bitten lips. It's a normal feeling, a neighbour once told you after you told her your story (excluding the vampirism). It's alright to miss someone who might not miss you back.

There's a hole that he left in your chest, and you find that you can't fill it in no matter how much you try to fill it with friends and good moments. But it shrinks, it gets smaller with time. It gets better with each day that passes. It has gotten better.

No longer do you feel that time has passed in a blur of colours. It has slowed for you, time. You go outdoors and breathe in the salty air, you talk to people, people you would've ignored back then. You do things you haven't done in decades. And you find that time has barely passed. You live each day, savour it, conquer it with warmth akin to his palm atop your own.

You wish him nothing but the best, and as you promised yourself on that day, you'll continue to love him from afar. The moon gazing down on you reminds you of him, everything reminds you of him. And that's alright, love does that. And it will continue to do so for the rest of eternity.

You've got nothing but time to heal and fill the void with as much light as you can.

—

Hobie's gnawed with exhaustion, but happy, incredibly happy. After two years of being away, he has helped so many lives with his ‘abilities’. He has plucked away corrupt officials with his own clawed hands, fangs coated in a sheen of rubies, eyes bright and almost glowing in its pools of crimson. He's proud of what he has accomplished, he hopes that you would be too.

Two years went by without you, he may have won the bet by a long shot but he can't stay for another day more. He needs to go home to you or he feels like he'll combust into searing flames if he doesn't get to see you and hold you within the day. He longs for your warm ichor on his tongue, and how you always laugh at his antics after all these years. He smiles at his ring, excited to see its partner in your finger once again.

So he forgoes to write you a letter in an attempt to surprise you with his return. He packs his bags, waves goodbye to his old and new found friends, going home without wasting another second. You're his bright spot amidst the dark eternity, his sun that lights the way, and he finally feels that he's worthy of you. Worthy of your time.

He knows himself better than he did when he was just nineteen and lost in the threads of life. He feels as if he traveled back in time, back when he was a human who craved to leave his mark in the world. Only this time, he accomplished the latter. Now, as he promised himself that day, he's coming back home.

He's going back home to you.

—

A letter mysteriously arrives at your doorstep. Its pitch black envelope and red wax seal with the unmistakable seal of the vampiric council sends anxiety coursing through your frozen veins.

Is it Hobie? Has something happened to him? Did he fight a council member again? Did you unintentionally and unknowingly break a rule? Or perhaps it's just a newsletter? You could only hope that it's a newsletter.

You open it immediately to calm yourself. Sharp nails ripping the black envelope open. Reading the contents, you sigh in relief at the invitation. An invitation to a soiree, the kind you and Hobie were never invited to because it's well known that you two have been together for centuries. Hell, it's in their records to begin with.

Tamping down your yearning thoughts, you skim the invitation some more. You find that it's a masquerade, ‘to make it interesting in finding your eternal partner,’ it read in its fancy gold lettering. They need to find a better writer to write their invitations, you thought.

You feel like scoffing at the idea of you dressing up and looking pretty just to find a person who may or may not leave you after they feel the urge to change. As you flip the matte paper around, your mind changes with the words ‘goody bags will be given to those who don't find a partner by the end of the day.’ You can't resist a good party favour, especially when it's from the rich vampire council who once gave away mustangs and harleys to the vampires who made it to a hundred. You might hate their guts, but you can't deny how well they can plan a good soiree.

Leaving your cottage, you don your thick coat and take out your trustee umbrella to wade through the sun illuminated town in hopes of buying a somewhat presentable gown to wear. You might've skipped the part in the invitation that says, ‘satisfaction guaranteed!’

—

Hobie stands on the porch of your shared home with a big giddy smile on his face. He notices all the plants you loved so much have wilted, grass turned into a shade of murky brown, and the porch is littered with dust and grime. He ignores the state of his home in favour of the thought of you being too busy traveling and meeting friends or trying out different hobbies. He could only hope that you're well. That you feed whenever you're hungry, he knows how much you hate hunting, especially without him. He remembers that you always make it a night, basically a date night with him that ends with a dead asshole in an alleyway with four unmistakable pin pricks on the side of their neck.

He should've planned more before he left, made sure that you'd be prepared for anything while he's gone. He'd hate to be gone when a would be vampire hunter attacks your home. His fists clenches around his suitcase, now his fear of you being staked through the heart in his own house takes hold of his entire body. You can handle yourself in a fight, but he's afraid of losing you in such a violent way when he could've been there to save you.

With fear clawing at his chest up to his throat, he unlocks the front door with a creak. Then the door stops, as if something is blocking the way.

“Love?” He calls for you in the dark foyer. The vase you always kept filled with flowers that sits on a desk near the door has completely covered in dust, roses wilted. Flowers no longer blooming in its porcelain form. His iced heart shudders in his chest. “Love, it's me, don't attack, yeah?” Chuckling nervously, he pushes the door fully despite the resistance.

The sound of papers crinkling under the pressure of the door sends him into a tizzy. His eyes narrow downwards at the piles upon piles of envelopes next to his feet. Squeezing inside, he tosses his suitcase haphazardly further into the foyer. It thumps loudly on the wooden floorboards, contents tumbling out and spilling over the floors.

His frantic eyes scan the letters, kneeling down, he finds that the letterbox flaps on the door is practically bursting with the amount of envelopes that were shoved in.

Frowning, he takes one in his trembling fingers, thumbs running along your name that he wrote himself.

“What the fuck?” He asks breathlessly into the void. He finds that every single one of them remains unopened.

Standing upright as quick as lightning, he runs around the house like a headless chicken looking for its head. He checks the living room, none, except for spiderwebs clinging on his guitar perched on the wall. His anxiety eats him from the inside out with every door he flings open. The sounds of his thundering footsteps echo inside the shared home, oil paintings of you and him are threatening to fall from its fixtures as he sprints through every door, looks through every crevice for you. And opens every cabinet and even climbs up to the attic to no avail.

There's no blood nor sign of a fight or forced entry. At least he knows that you haven't been attacked. But his mind lingers on one question, ‘where are you?’

He heaves in the middle of the bedroom where he saw you last. The shared coffin was left revealed and out in the open, he can still smell your perfume lingering in the velvet walls of the coffin, fingers running along the sides as he desperately tries to feel you through the fabric.

You're not here. You haven't been here for a long time.

“Fuck,” he balls up the fabric in his fist. There's no sign of you anywhere, not even a letter for him to read. It's unlike you to not leave a note. You always leave one, even if you're just going to the garden. “Where the fuck are you, love?”

The sound of the deep sounding doorbell startles him in place. With his quick movements, he makes it to the door within a half second. That could be you outside.

Hobie practically rips the door open with both hands as he wretches it away in hopes that it could be you. With a grin, he only sees a bat flapping away, and a dark envelope left at his doorstep.

“Fuckin' council.” Quickly grabbing the letter, he closes the door behind him. He could only hope that the letter is for him, that they're chastising him for what he has done. It can't be a letter of condolence pertaining to you, it can't be.

—

Your champagne flute filled with blood is starting to coagulate. Crimson staining the sides of the fancy glass as you slosh it absentmindedly. You stand in the corner right next to the fountain of warm blood gushing out of a mermaid's vase. At least you get to drink your fill.

The party is in full swing, the grand hall is filled with single vampires mingling with each other. Their mindless chatter falls on deaf ears as you look up at the crystal chandeliers illuminating the event. Cigar smoke rises up from the bloodied lips of vampires, turning the air more acrid than the scent of sweat and drying blood from the feeding area just below the event hall.

You're starting to think that the goody bag isn't worth it anymore, even if it has the meaning of life tucked inside it.

The sound of tinkling glass and footsteps takes your attention from the foggy ceiling. The stranger smiles at you through his domino mask. Lips smirking as he makes his way towards you with two bloody cups.

“May I join you?” He asks in a low soothing voice. His suit is in velvet blue, golden charms hanging off him like fine gold threads weaved over him. You raise a brow at him, hopefully he can see it rise above your flowery mask. “Someone as pretty as you shouldn't be spending the night alone like this.”

You scoff quietly, refraining from rolling your eyes. “How would you know that I'm pretty under this mask?” He grins wider at your comment. “For all you know, I'm hideous under this.”

Chuckling, the platinum haired man shrugs. “I just know. You give off the aura of someone gorgeous.”

You scoff light-heartedly against the rim of your glass. “I bet you've said those exact words a dozen times tonight.”

He smirks, fang poking out from his lips. “No, just this once.” Plucking your coagulated drink from your hand, he swiftly and gracefully replaces it with a new one. The drink is still warm, fresh from the veins. “I only use my skills wisely lest it be wasted.”

You stare at him with a raised brow, the corner of your lips curl into an unsure smile. “Wasted on who?” Taking a step away from the man who clearly wants his fangs in your neck, you dawdle on drinking from the glass he gave you.

Chuckling, he glances at the vampires milling about the ballroom, their fancy clothes swishing from side to side as they try their best in recreating a moment in the past.

“The…unremarkable vampires.”

“And you think I'm remarkable enough for you…?”

The stranger takes your hand without another word, leaning down to press a cold kiss against your skin. “Just call me Count Tepes.”

You blink at his name, then you feel it, a recognizable warmth flooding your frozen veins akin to a gentle summer's breeze upon your cheek. A comfortable heat pressing against your throat, a familiar presence making its way towards you in haste.

“Who's this, love? You chattin’ up my wife?” Hobie's arm is suddenly around your waist, calloused hand pressing gently atop your bodice, fingers slithering under the ribbons on your hips in a comfortable and welcomed possessive nature. “Didn't know we were lookin' for a third. If we were, I wouldn't choose this bloke.”

As you crane your neck to stare at him, your expression morphs into a combination of pain and relief. “Hobie?”

“Yeah, lovie?” He pulls you closer against him, a pearlescent mask hiding half of his face but you could recognize him by mere touch alone, by his tone, by his warmth. You could lose him in the crowd and you'd know him from the sound of his footsteps. His smirk turns into a frown at your expression, hand squeezing your side once for comfort. “You alright?”

“Is he bothering you?” The count asks with an annoyed tone. Golden eyes narrowed to slits at the punk holding you close.

“I think you're the one bein' a bother ‘ere, mate.” Hobie sneers, tugging away at your glass to chug it in one gulp without leaving his glare at the fellow vampire. He licks at his bloodied lips, fangs bared, blood dripping down from the corner of his smirk.

Tepes raises a sharp brow at you, you, whose mind is running a thousand miles per hour. With a heavy inhale, you give him your best smile. “No need to worry, I'm with him.” Hobie puffs out his chest smugly.

The Count chuckles with a shake of his head in reply. “Not again, just my luck, hm?” Taking a swig, he swallows down the thick blood. “It's either couples looking for a third, a fourth, or even a fifth. Or someone who just went to the party to inspire jealousy in their husband.” Glancing at you, he sighs and nods curtly at you before leaving without another word.

“Really, love, him?” Hobie scoffs with a grin, ringed finger tapping on his— your glass. “You could do better—”

You whirl away from him, not having the heart to fully push him away. “What are you doing here?”

“What are you doin' ‘ere?” Hobie furrows his pierced brows, his identical ring still on his ring finger. The ruby glows under the chandeliers, the same shade as his immortal eyes.

You stare at him with bemused shock, “you left!”

“On a bloody soul searchin’ not leavin' you!”

“What?” You blink rapidly at his words. “You said you couldn't stay anymore—” a cough stops you in your tracks. An older vampire with the biggest beard you've ever seen taps his foot impatiently, thick brow raised in annoyance. “Sorry.” You murmur before leaving towards the closed balcony doors.

“Sorry, Santa.” Hobie waves him away, following right behind you as you struggle to open the double doors. “You have to—” he places the glass down to help you by putting his hands above your own. “— love, you have to push the bloody knob.”

His hands felt like how they used to, as if two years hadn't passed. With a click, the doors swing open. “Damnit, I had it.” You step into the cold air, trembling hands resting on the cool marble balcony.

The doors shut close as Hobie tentatively steps closer to you. “You look fit.” You scoff at him as his shoulders heave in an inhale. “I wouldn't leave you.”

“But you did.” You utter under your breath, you know he heard it above the breeze.

“Can I explain myself? I don't want to fight, love.” 250 years together and you've only fought a handful of times, and the serious ones are lesser than the nonsensical ones. With your apprehensive nod, he crosses the small distance, settling himself right next to you and at the same time giving you enough space. “I didn't break it off.” He takes off his mask, sighing heavily as he twirls his ring around his finger. “I should've explained it better.”

You finally meet with his eyes. The ring in your pocket seems to grow heavier. “You were gone for two years, Hobie.”

“For a good cause, I didn't feel like myself and I wanted to be better, not just for you but for myself.” He leans closer to you, the full moon bathing him in silver, the light caught by his piercings. “250 years together, do you think I'd leave you just like that?”

“You didn't have to be better for me. You're already great to me.” Your affectionate words echo in the breeze as his chest clenches, guilt stomping down on him. “I thought you didn't find me fascinating anymore. That you didn't need or want me anymore.” Your voice is small, almost broken. “250 years together could do that, Hobie.”

“I could never not find you fascinatin’, and I get to wake up next to everythin' I could ever need or want. You're anythin’ but.” With a brave hand, he reaches for your cheek, wiping a bloodied tear you didn't notice you've let out. “I thought you got hurt, or worse.”

He feels a tear run down his cheek. Gently taking your mask off of your face, he could finally see you in all your glory. He gazes into your shining eyes— he may not be able to see himself in the mirror, but he doesn't need to when your eyes are enough to reflect his own blissful face.

You lean further into his hold, palms reaching towards his chest like you used to. “D–did you do it? Did you get to do what you wanted to? Are you happy?”

Hobie nods before placing his forehead against yours to savour your close presence. “I did, all that and more. And I've always been happy with you.”

Smiling, you pat his cheek affectionatly. “Then I'm proud of you.” Leaning away, you wipe away a stray tear from his chiseled cheek. “So it was a misunderstanding? You didn't actually break off our…marriage?”

He smiles softly, knuckles gently running along your jaw. “Why’d you hesitate, hm? And yeah, I should've explained myself better. ‘m sorry.”

You thump your fists on his leather clad chest as he chuckles. “You could've saved me from a lot of fucking tears, Hobie.” You can now admire him fully, his outfit is a contrast to the other party goers with their silks and chiffon, but he makes it look good— he always looks this good.

Taking your wrists, placing it atop his still heart, he tilts his head with an affectionate smile. “You didn't answer my question. And you took off your ring.” He raises a questioning brow, fingers bracelets around your wrist as he moves your empty ring finger around. “Were you honestly tryin' to get with that wanker?”

“No,” you say immediately, “And if I remember correctly, we never technically married. I'm only here because they had nice things in the party favors. And I thought, ‘why not? The worst that could happen is that I get a bloody ipad instead of a mustang like I hoped.’” Your lips wobble as you tamp down a sob, eyes getting blurry. “I couldn't replace you just like that. It would take me a thousand years to get over you, you idiot.”

Hobie laughs wholeheartedly, a sound you dearly missed. He pauses then inhales, eyes warmly staring at you through the haze of affection. “Fuck, I missed you so goddamn much.” With a quick pull, he embraces you firmly with his face hidden on the crook of your neck, lips brushing along your throat. “You're right, ‘m an idiot for not explainin’ better, and for not takin’ you with me. ‘m sorry.”

You wrap your arms around him tighter, nose nuzzling his temple. “Could've just told me you were having a mid-life crisis.”

He laughs against your skin. “I sent you letters everyday, you didn't reply.” Subtly, he dances with you from side to side under the moonlight and the music of crickets chirping. “I went home and you weren't there. If I wasn't already dead, you would've given me a heart attack.”

“I couldn't stay there alone.” You hold him impossibly closer. “You weren't there.”

Hobie imagines you in that big house all alone waiting for him. “Fuck, ‘m sorry.”

“I know, I forgive you. Just bring me next time, okay?” He nods with a grin. You lean away, cradling his face in your careful hold, thumbs rubbing along his cheeks. “I'll read your letters, all of them once we get back home.”

“Why read ‘em when I can tell you?” He grins, temptation pushing him to meet with your waiting lips. “‘sides, ‘m a better storyteller than a writer.”

You chuckle softly as he pecks you once, twice then leaning away only to move back with another gentle kiss. “I've got stories to tell too.” You utter against his soft lips.

“Yeah?” He smiles proudly at you. “Can you tell me all about them while your lips are on mine?”

You beam at him. “I can, I have telepathy for a reason, Hobs.”

“Thank fuck for telepathy.” He says as he kisses you fervently just like he always had in 250 years of being together. “I should've married you, lovie.” His words are uttered in between kisses.

“We have time.” You whisper against his smiling lips whilst he picks your pockets and slips your ring in your finger once again.

As you kiss him, you can see that he's already planning the event in his giddy mind. You tell him the three words you've been aching to say back in his head. And in turn, he takes you further into his arms as dark wispy smoke envelopes you both in an embrace. In a blink, you're back home with him. The house feels warm again.

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cloudyskydreams · 2 days ago

Note

Hello I've loved all your writing and hope to see more if its okay to ask how would the skeletons react if the reader came home badly hurt from someone sorry if this make you uncomfortable keep up with the amazing rewiring love to see more

Hello! Let me just say I adored your cosplay of Black it looks so good!!

Secondly, there's not alot that'll make me uncomfortable! Just letting everyone know that for future reference if you got some weird or gross or angsty ideas I have no prob writing them ::3!

Anyways these were actually really fun to write and kept me busy at work when it was slow. Thanks so much for requesting!! Hope you guys enjoy ::>

Undertale:

Sans:

His sockets widen and his eyelights shrinks upon seeing you. He teleports over quickly and gets you to the couch as he asks what happened. He listens to your explanation as he makes you a 'dog for the healing properties and gets to work bandaging you up. He's pretty calm throughout it but he's not really cracking jokes and you can see the sweat dripping down his skull. Once you're considerably better than before he lets out a sigh of relief and cuddles close to you content to keep you company for now. Now Sans isn't a violent guy really he's more of a bard. Talk his way out of the situation. Later though, later he's going to find that douchebag and show them a bad time

Papyrus:

Papyrus smiles upon hearing the door open and spins around in the kitchen to greet you happily. His face contorts to one of horror upon seeing your state and the plate in his hand drops smashing across the kitchen floor. He's over by your side in a quick few strides and gently carries you to the bathroom where he sets you down on the couch. He gets you some of his monster candy stash and bandages you up asking about what happened, he sits next to you and gently asks if you'd like to call the police stating he'll be by your side the whole time. If you say no he might just go by himself when he gets the chance and report what he knows.

Underfell:

Red:

Upon first seeing you bruised and battered Red's mind goes blank. He stares at you for a solid minute with empty sockets before he starts yelling as he grabs you by the wrist , surprisingly gently, and leads you to the bathroom. He bandages you up and disinfects any wounds as well as giving you a monster candy before he demands to know who the fuck hurt you. He stays by your side till you fall asleep very clearly pissed off still everytime he looks at your state but trying to be soft for you. Then when you're sleeping he leaves the house to hunt that fucker down and send them to the hospital with all their teeth knocked out and a few broken bones.

Edge:

He sees you and his fists clench by his side as he takes in your battered form. He walks over and gently searches you for any serious wounds assessing how badly you're hurt before leading you to the bathroom to patch you up. He stays calm and level headed but eeriely silent for the most part until he's done bandaging you. Then he inquires about what happened, where, and with who. Once he has all the details he kisses you softly and mutters how he's so glad you're okay before leaving you wrapped up in blankets on the couch with a comfort show and some monster snacks to help you heal. He's gonna rough the guy up then drag him to the police station and force him to confess.

Underswap:

Blue:

Blue's bright smile quickly falls and the quick steps he was taking to you falter as he sees you standing in the doorway. He rushes over a deadly serious look on his face as he looks you over. He gently leads you inside and phones the police as he's getting medical supplies and some monster food. He patches you up the best he can while telling the operator what he knows from what you tell him. The police arrive and interrogate you and Blue stays by your side holding your hand the entire time and comforting you.

Stretch:

He's sitting on the couch when you come in and he calls out over the back of it. When you don't reply he looks over and sees your state sending him into a state of shock. He quickly teleports over and lets you lean against him as he walks you to the couch. He's panicking inside he doesn't really know what to do as the sight of the state your in knocked all common sense out of him. So he calls his brother as he gets medical supplies and monster food. His brother shows up and after seeing the sight of you calls the police which makes Stretch freak out a little more. So he's by you're side clinging to you and trying to reassure you to the best of his ability while you and Blue deal with the Police.

HorrorTale:

Axe:

His eyelight shrinks to the smallest it's been and his hand immediately starts tugging on his empty sockets as he stares at you. It takes him a little bit to process the situation and by that time you're already inside. He's over by your side quickly shoving monster snacks in your hands as he looks over the wounds. He doesn't remember where the bandages are so you have to tell him where and he gets them. Very gently wraps you up acts as if you're porcelain. He sits you in his lap afterwards and cuddles up close starting to purr softly hoping it will help calm you. He asks what happened and listens with intense silence. He writes it down so he doesn't forget but leaves the person as a problem for another day he's more focused on you right now.They may think they got away with it but he won't forget about them not after what they did to you.

Willow:

He sees you and gasps already by your side and scooping you up as gently as he can. He sets you on the couch softly and looks over your wounds. Gets you some leftovers from the dinner made last night for the monster food healing properties and bandages what needs it. He runs his fingers through your hair as he considers his options. He doesn't mention anything to you though as he gently takes care of you babying you throughout the night but makes sure to get as much information as he can out of you. Once you're asleep he writes down everything you said and finds Axe who hadn't seen you yet and mentions the situation before handing over the paper. He's got a small brotherly favor to cash in tonight.

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panpanghost · 1 day ago

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Part 4 of this (I'm sorry, idk what I'm doing but so many people are interested in this and I'm trying to give you a proper au.)

So the crown was made by dark magic and making the curse required the sacrifice of an entire... kingdom... Would taking it off also require a sacrifice?

There's also something off about the translation, how come it doesn't say how to do the spell or undo it? Where is the rest of this? Maybe I can find something in the celestial realm, but I can't leave Moonpie alone here. They might return to take him and he can't protect himself... Maybe I can get MK to watch over him-

_"Wukong! Showers!" Macaque called from the hot bath tub, it's like a little swimming pool or a jacuzzi, being king is great.

_"Coming!" Wukong loves this. He can't wait to have Macaque wash his hair and untangle all the knots.

After Macaque lost his memories they shower together almost everyday. Sure, when Macaque first walked in on him in the showers he almost had a heart attack, but now that he's gotten used to it like before, it's so great and relaxing. To most creatures it's considered rude or invasion of privacy, but not to monkeys, they do that to show their bonds and love to each other. No one understands that, only Macaque does.

_"Where have you been? Get in." Macaque said already sitting in the water.

_"Sorry about that, little ones were having a fight." Wukong says undressing,

_"Again? These guys create trouble when there's none."

_"I know, right?" Wukong said relaxing in the warm water,

_"Don't get too comfy, someone needs to groom my furr."

_"So demanding." Even though he said that, this is Wukong's favourite part about the showers, Macaque loves his furr, sure it's not as thick and silky as it used to be but Wukong will make sure it gets back to its previous glory.

_"Hey Sunny..." Macaque spoke after a while, picking at his tail,

_"Yeh Moony?" It's been so long since Macaque used that nickname for him, he can't get used to it, his heart will explode.

_"I was wondering... Would it be okay if you take me to see the kid and his friends."

_"Wh-Why?"

_"I want to ask them something."

_"You can ask me."

_"I know, but you won't answer."

_"What are you talking about? I always answer."

_"No, you never do. I don't even know the kid's name because you won't tell me and won't let me meet him to ask!"

_"It's MK. Just calm down, no need to be so angry about it."

_"I am angry, Wukong. Why won't you tell me anything?! Why does he have your staff? Why is he radiating your energy?! Why is he even allowed to come here?! Is he-" Macaque takes a deep breath, "Is he yours?"

_"What? NO! nonononono no, he's not, he was just born from the same rock as me, that's all."

_"What?"

_"Listen, I gave him the staff because I want him to be my successor."

_"A successor? You're immortal, why would you need that?"

_"Because... Because I'm tired." Wukong let down his glamour as he said that and Macaque could see all his scars, it was silent for a moment,

_"oh Wukong..." Macaque watched in horror, he approached slowly in case his sun wanted him to stop, "life hasn't been kind to you, has it?" Macaque held his face in his hands,

_"..." Wukong just melted in Macaque's warmth as he kissed his scars, gently, one by one,

_"Who did this?" Macaque asked, looking in his king's eyes.

Wukong saw it, the same murderous eyes his moon had when he first saw the monk use the fillet on him. Wukong doesn't blame him, he had the same look on his face when he saw his moon drenched in blood and those assholes trying to abduct him. He'll kill them when he finds them.

_"He's gone, been dead for years now."

_"Hm. Lucky." Macaque said, a bit of disappointment in his voice.

_"Heh, forget about him, just, stay with me okay?"

_"Where would I go without you?" Macaque hugged Wukong, bringing him closer to his chest.

But you did, you left, and I didn't know where you were, you only came when the world was ending then disappeared again. But it's ok now, You can't leave. I won't let you.

_"Hey, do you think we'll have matching scars?" Macaque asked jokingly,

_"Why? Does it hurt?" Wukong yanked himself out of the hugg and held Macaque's head, is the crown crushing his skull?!!!!

_"No, it doesn't," Macaque held his hands, "I can't feel it most of the time, only when I try to use my powers. I was just wondering if it'll leave a mark, and then we can have matching scars."

_"Not unless you can pluck my eye out."

_"No use, it'll just regenerate."

_"Yeh, that would happen." Wait-

_"Let's get out of this shower, it feels suffocating and I'm hungry." Macaque got out of the tub, "Let's go."

My eyes regenerate, can I give him one-

_"Wukong!"

_"A! You go first, I'll just wash a little more then fallow you."

_"Alright, but just wash up, I'll groom your furr inside." Macaque said putting a towel on,

_"Ok." he gave Macaque a little smile as he left.

#macaque #six eared macaque #lmk macaque #sun wukong #lmk sun wukong #shadowpeach

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shuacore · 3 days ago

Text

[ 00:23 ] orange show speedway

“racing?” you asked, perplexed.

vernon grins, showing all of his teeth, hand clutching two tickets to a race on friday. he’s wearing his brother’s letterman jacket and a pair of scuffed high top converse—the ones he always wears, but the jacket doesn’t hang on his shoulders like it used to—now it’s starting to actually fit him. he flops onto the couch next to you, and your nose is filled with the familiar scent of laundry detergent.

“yeah. chan didn’t wanna go. so i’m taking you,” he said. the casual way he said it, like this wasn’t the closest thing he’d ever done to asking you out. you laughed nervously, rubbing your hands up and down your thighs.

“um…sure,” you had replied, a goofy grin of your own slowly taking over your face.

vernon beams, and when he’s happy, you’re happy. it has nothing to do with the sudden explosion of butterflies in your stomach.

he’s your best friend after all. nothing more.

every guy at this festival has you in their eyes.

it was the middle of august. hot. sweaty. restless.

vernon holds his hand over his eyes, squinting in the sun. his hair clings to the back of his neck. you fidget nervously next to him, nails digging into your knees.

you don’t know why you’re so aware of everything right now; the humidity thick in the air, your thighs sticking to the metal bleachers, the smell of vernon’s skin next to you—citrusy and soft.

“oh! that one! number 25!” vernon yells suddenly, pointing excitedly as a shiny red car screeches past, engine growling as it corners the track. you turn your attention to the vehicle, pointedly ignoring his thigh touching yours, bare skin against bare skin in the summer heat, sticking.

you nod, only half listening, as vernon rattles off more car facts, certainly not looking at the sun illuminating his features, turning his eyelashes from dark brown to gold, and the boyish grin on his face as he watches the cars go by with wide eyes. your stomach lifts and then plunges downward.

this is the vernon you lo—

“what?” he asks, and you realize with horror you’ve been staring at him, but vernon is just your best friend so it’s fine–right? it’s fine. you can admire your best friend like that, and think about how nice his features are and—

“dude, what?”

his head is cocked to the side. his eyes look straight through you. when you fail spectacularly to offer an excuse, vernon grins. you’re dead.

we were stupid and young and i was so in love.

everything in between is hazy.

his lips had been so hot, burning on your skin, chapped and nervous as he kissed you by his car. tentative, worried about the repercussions, tasting of cherry cola and popcorn. yours were equally as hesitant, fumbling, buzzing with excitement.

everything was hot to the touch—you, the sun in his hair, the hood of the car.

vernon had smiled at you from under his lashes, gums and all, and you felt like your knees were going to give out. he says your name so softly, still somehow audible above the roaring of engines and the cheers of the crowd like he had spoken it right into your ear. you remember the way his brow softened as you lock eyes with him, your nerves apparent in the way you clutch his damp t-shirt in your fingers. his hands, resolute against your ribcage. surely he feels the pounding of your heart underneath them.

this feeling—the dizziness, the shortness of breath—

you tangle your fingers in the sweaty curls at the back of his neck—hair too long for the summer—as you pull vernon in again, lips pressed assuredly against his as you wreck the most important friendship you’ve ever had, crashing headfirst.

love is the unfamiliar taste on your tongue. love is what curves your body into vernon’s swallowing his gasp as he presses you against his beat up car, hands pressed on the hood on either side of your hips. your legs slip against the metal and he catches you clumsily; you feel his teeth against your lips as he laughs into your mouth.

you were only 19. barely still teenagers and still infinitely stupid, but you had never been more sure about anything.

i’m in the middle of the crowd and it’s like no time’s passed.

you haven’t been home in years.

the first place you go is the speedway. the sun beats down on the back of your neck as beads of sweat gather on your brow. you squint in the brutal afternoon light, watching intently as the cars zoom past, kicking up dust and clogging the air, and for a while it’s fine. your college roommate groans next to you, complaining about the heat and boredom and asking when can we leave? you shush them with promises of beer and karaoke.

even while looking into the clouds of dust, nose filled with the smell of burnt rubber and fake butter, it’s impossible to miss the familiar plunging feeling in your stomach. the deja vu of seeing that same red car, even so many years later. your blood runs suddenly hot.

“why do you have that look on your face?” your roommate asks, mouth stuffed half-full of popcorn.

a river of memories crash to the forefront of your mind, memories of oversized jackets and worn high tops. a cheeky grin and messy hair. boyish hands that gripped yours too tight. rushed kisses on beaten leather in the back of a junky car and promises breathed against skin that only teenagers who have nothing to lose could make.

you smile, cheekbones hurting. an old ache finds its home in your chest again.

“did i ever tell you about this guy i knew in high school?”

when i’m racing head-first towards everything i want back.

[ 2:32 am ]

you: hi….. i know it’s been a while

vern: oh wow hi

you: srry… know it’s late

this is so random

i was just at the speedway…. remember when we went in high school? i had a lot of fun

vern: i could never forget

[ 3:15 am ]

you: i miss u

vern: miss u too

you: do you ever think? about what could’ve happened?

[ 3:40 am ]

vern: i don’t think i ever stopped

ot13 | masterlist

#shuacore thoughts #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop fanfic #seventeen #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fluff #svt fanfic #svt imagines #svt fluff #vernon #vernon x reader #vernon imagines #vernon fluff #vernon chwe #chwe hansol

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blueblurchronicles · 2 days ago

Text

A full moon rising

After much delay, I proudly present the first story, I hope you enjoy and a reminder that requests are open *please read rules pinned* anyway enjoy !! :D Word count:1K

You were on vacation in sunny apotos trying to soak in the feeling of the sand in your hands and eat the many delicious foods on offer, but you couldn't really relax, you were worried about sonic...

He left not long ago to stop Eggman on his latest attempt to stop him and conquer the world, and this time it seemed that he had to travel much further up into space.

"Sonic, come on let me help you" You pleaded to him, normally you did help him out with Eggman's shenanigans but this time Sonic wasn't budging.

"Y/n, I understand but Eggman is unpredictable... Well as unpredictable as he can be" He chuckled softly.

He knew you were worried for him, but he walked up and held out a fist for a fist bump. "Come on, don't leave me hanging" He flashed the familiar smirk, making you smile and gave him his fist bump.

But that was almost 4 days ago, and during the second day of your vacation, that was when things got weird. You have been hearing reports of the planet broken up into 6 pieces and some form of creatures roaming around at night. That made you very scared, and without sonic here to help you... you were on your own.

So the next 2 days you tried to enjoy the vacation as much as you could and when you saw a glimpse of the sun setting you rushed quickly back to your hotel room and stayed put for the night as if the creatures were anything but true. But one night you stayed out for too long and didn't even notice when you got outside and it was dark.

"Oh no..." You quickly rushed back to your room, but a growl made you freeze, you looked around frantically to find the source of the growl. Your eyes widened in horror as you came across a giant creature. You screamed as you began to run, more creatures on your tail as you tried to cut them off and hide.

It worked for a little while and made your way back to your hotel, only to just barely make it into the courtyard when you were cornered by all the creatures, big and small.

"Help me !!!" You cowered in fear. Just when things became grim for you, you heard a loud howl echoing in the streets of the city.

A dark shape leapt from the rooftops, you couldn't see it as it was right under the full moon. landing heavily between you and the creatures. The figure was familiar... yet different. It had broad, muscular arms. claws that gleamed in the moonlight and fur bristling in untamed turfs.

"Hang tight, I'll handle these guys" It spoke in a deep gruff voice.

You quickly ran for cover as it began to fight, lunging its claws at the nearest creature. "That's one down"

You could hear everything going on in the background as items were tossed and broken, the creature's growls of defeat and the thuds of the figure that saved you. After the fight, the creatures then dissipated into the misty shadow, now no more.

"Hey !! You can come on out now, It's safe. They're all gone" The figure called out to you if you were still here.

Your legs were like jelly as you began to slowly shuffle out from the corner. "Th... Thank you..." You then perked up when you saw the familiar figure. "SONIC !!" You smiled and rushed to him, but the smile slowly disappeared when you saw a completely new look. "Ummm... New colour ??"

"Yeah.... Long story..." He sighed, looking down at his hands and flexing his fingers. "You know me, never a dull moment" He quickly turned his attention to you. "You okay ?? They didn't hurt you did they ??" He looked all over.

"No... they just spooked me... I'm more worried about you, what happened ??"

"It's... kinda complicated, some crazy stuff went down with me and Eggman and now from what I can tell when the sun goes down I turn into... this..." He sighed softly and sort of sadly. But he looked up at you and flashed the familiar grin.

"But I'm still me though" He raised his fist for a fist bump, making you smile and gave him his fist bump, yeah he was still sonic.

"Come on, My hotel room is nearby. We can stay there for the rest of the night" You offered.

The two then entered the hotel room, flicking the lights on and relaxing now that the chaos was over. You lay down on the bed as Sonic then sat on a nearby chair. "This... thing... It's got its perks but it's been rough" He looked out at the window and then at you, smiling softly to see that his best friend was ok. "Guess I owe you one huh ??"

You turned your head to him and sat up. "Hey, don't mention it, at best I owe you one. I hear Apotos has some very interesting chilli dogs"

Sonic's eyes lit up, the usual spark shining through the exterior. "Oh now you're talking my language" He rubbed his hands together, he could picture it already, as soon as the sun rose, fresh local chilli dogs in a place as scenic as apotos, making you chuckle when you saw his expression. "We should get some shut eye, goodnight sonic"

"Night y/n"

Soon the sun began to rise, and you fell asleep for the time being as did Sonic. He felt the sharp twinge before being covered in purple smoke he then reverted back to normal. You yawned and woke up and saw him sleeping still. You smiled and woke him up with a good squeeze of a hug.

"What the... woah hey easy there" He chuckled and wrapped his arms around you. "See ?? Nothing to worry about" He paused, glancing out the window at the colourful sunrise over apotos. Only one thing now on his mind.

"Now, how about those chilli dogs you mentioned"

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic the hedgehog imagine #sonic the hedgehog x reader #platonic #sonic x reader #reader insert #sonic the werehog #sonic the werehog x reader #sonic the werehog imagine #werehog

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storytowrite · 1 day ago

Text

|You will always be mine ~ Lee Minho series|

PART 13

Paring: Minho x Y/N

Genre: smut, angst, university au

Word count: 1541

Warnings: sex, 18+, Minho is a psycho, dom!Minho, sub!reader, abuse, slight BDSM, kidnapping, violence, age gap, Minho is an university professor, Y/N can be hurt physically (and mentally too I guess).

Synopsis: Who knew that accidental fuck in the club bathroom with a handsome man will bring you to a lot of unexpected events.

Author's note: I kept this series for a really long time not sure if I want to post it or not, but I decided to do it anyway, so I hope you'll like it.

——————————

The car trip did not take long, but for you it dragged on mercilessly. Minho did not say a word to you. His lip had already managed to swell. You glanced at him uncertainly. You knew he was angry and that you had broken the rule he had imposed on you from the very beginning of your strange yet intense relationship.

You didn't want to speak up. You were afraid that if you said even a word, Minho would explode. You didn't know what to expect from him. The man's lips tightened. You sighed quietly. Now what?, You thought. You felt more than lost.

“Get off.” Said the man coolly but calmly, although you could see by the posture of his body that he was tense all over. “Are you deaf? What are you waiting for?” He hissed already a little more sharply and left the vehicle. You quickly got out of the car and followed him to the apartment.

“Minho I...” You started once you had crossed the threshold of his apartment.

“ Did I let you speak?” He growled. “No, so don't speak without being asked. Go take a shower, you have fifteen minutes.”

“But...” You started, somewhat surprised by his reaction.

“I said something!”

You obediently went to the bathroom. You took a quick shower and changed out of your dress. You looked at your reflection in the mirror. Fear was painted in your eyes. You didn't know what Minho would do with you now. And fear stemming from not knowing is the worst kind of fear.

You left the bathroom at a fast pace. Minho sat in the kitchen nursing a cut lip. He didn't speak to you at all.

“Let me help you...” You began hesitantly approaching him with a slow step. Your nightgown stuck gently to your still damp body. He looked at you with annoyance and... something else you couldn't classify.

“It's your fault.” He hissed as you touched his lip with a cotton swab, cleaning it. “You know? You're the reason we got beat up. You liked it, didn't you? You enjoyed having two men fighting over you.”

“What, no Minho... I didn't like it. I didn't want it.”

“Don't lie!” He growled. “We both know the truth. You like being the center of attention Y/N.” He rolled his eyes.

“No Minho it's not...” You started.

“Why did you go to that club, huh? I explicitly forbade you! Why then?” He didn't even let you finish your sentence.

“I wanted to meet with friends and...”

“And what was that for? They are not suitable friends for you! I don't want you to hang out with them.... Besides me, you don't need anyone else!”

“What, you must be joking!” You fuked, and irritation began to grow more and more in you. “You can't forbid me from seeing my friends, Minho.”

“Of course I can! And that's exactly what I'm doing.” He replied coolly.

You moved away from him in shock. Your raised voices echoed around the kitchen.

“You can't... You know what Min? I've had enough, I can't be with someone who treats me like his fucking property!”

“What do you mean by that! You belong to me!”

“No, it's over, do you understand? Today, now, you have crossed the border...” You didn't have time to finish the sentence when Minho's hand found itself, with a loud smack, on your cheek.

The man wanted to silence you in some way, and that was all that came to mind. However, the moment he realized what he had just done, he regretted it. He looked at you in horror, and you looked at him with big eyes. Both of you did not expect what had just happened.

Tears began to appear in your eyes. You looked at him in disbelief. Your cheek began to pulsate. You stood for a moment in shock, then with a quick step you ran to your bedroom, where you grabbed the first better bag and started packing your things.

“Y/N! Wait! I didn't mean...” The man ran after you, but you, as if in amok, did not hear him at all. “Y/N, look at me, kitten.” He grabbed your wrists and forced you to look at him. “Sorry kitten... I got carried away...” His heart broke into several pieces. In your eyes he saw only hesitation and fear. He immediately regretted his act. He himself did not fully understand what he had just done.

“Minho... let go.” You said quietly, avoiding his gaze.

“Sorry...” He immediately let you go. “Please don't do anything rash, okay? I'll go to sleep on the couch, we'll talk in the morning...”

“No Minho, I... I have to go home. I don't want to be here.” You said with complete seriousness.

He didn't argue with you this time, he knew he had to step down, although he didn't like it at all. He sighed heavily and left the room giving you space. He was doing his best not to lose you, and now he knew he had crossed the line and there would be no turning back. He had to come up with something that would make you not leave him after all. Only... he didn't know what yet....

You left Minho's apartment in the morning. The man insisted on driving you away, but you didn't agree. You didn't want to stay with him at all. You felt bad. You didn't understand his reaction, but you also didn't try to understand it anymore.

In rapid succession, you found yourself in your apartment. You locked yourself in it with all the locks, then cried out of helplessness. You sat curled up on the floor leaning against the door, and tears ran down your cheeks.

After some time, you decided to contact Jeno. You were worried about your friend. You only hoped that the boy had not crossed off your friendship.

“Hello?” You heard his voice in the receiver. He picked up. “Y/N? Are you okay?”

“Will you come to me? Please...” You said, and your voice faltered slightly.

“I'll be right there... we need to talk anyway.” Replied the boy calmly and hung up.

Not even fifteen minutes had passed since your conversation when you heard a knock on the door. You immediately opened it, letting in Jeno, who as soon as he crossed the threshold of your apartment, hugged you gently. His ribs were still giving out, and his right eye was purple.

“Are you okay?” He asked with concern watching you. “Your cheek... Did he hit you!” He immediately boiled over.

“Don't worry about it... We just had a fight...” You shrugged your shoulders. “How's your eye?”

“Now don't worry about it.” He muttered irritably. “You need to report this pervert!”

“No, Jeno... If we report him, I'll be expelled from the university too. Don't worry,” I ended it. He... He won't bother me anymore. I'm sorry, it's because of me that you're hurt and...”

“I'm fine Y/N. I just don't understand how you could be with someone like him. How did it even start?”

You sighed and told him everything again. How you met Minho, why you let yourself get involved with him, what happened after their fight. She also mentioned to him about Lisa and Rheena, who only lost their lives because Minho wanted to “protect” Y/N. Yeno had been listening to her attentively all this time.

“You really don't want to report him?” He asked finally. “He killed two girls, if there is any evidence of that...”

“That's the problem, I don't have any evidence.” You sighed. “All I know is that he had a gold necklace with a rose in his room... I remember that Rheena had a similar one. But I don't know if anyone will believe what I say. What if I get kicked out of the university for sleeping with a lecturer?”

“You can bring an anonymous report, Y/N.” Yeno said. “And in my opinion you should do that. You can also mention to them that he manipulated you and hit you...”

“I'm not convinced Jeno. Minho is... a sociopath. He will take revenge on me. I don't want to lose my life.”

“I won't let that happen Y/N.”

You nodded. You admitted your friend was right, and with his encouragement, you decided to make a report. If only that would free you completely from a man who, as much as he attracted you, terrified you, you wanted to try.

That evening you didn't stay alone overnight. Jeno decided to move in with you for at least a week to make you feel safe. The two of you started spending more time together than before, but you didn't go outside your apartment for longer than needed.

The only thing you didn't know was that you were constantly being watched. Lee Minho was still present in your life, but now he kept a decidedly greater distance than before. Still, he registered every step you took, even the smallest one. After all, he had long since decided that he would not let you leave, and was capable of doing anything to get you to return to him. Even if it meant another murder.

——————————

<- Part 12 | Part 14->

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