#your things come up missing but its a sock or a lace cami or your favorite pair of undies

[sir-heichou-smith]

I've been OBSESSED with reading psycho!soap/reader, but like what if you

You temporarily move to the Scottish countryside to help your best friend take care of their sick grandparent while they're studying abroad or smth and when you start unpacking you hear a knock at the door and it's a man with piercing blues and a clean-cut warhawk staring at you, probably expecting the old person you're now looking after but it's YOU and he decides right there and then he has to have you.

Those eyes widen and pearly whites form a sharp smile (almost predatory) and he introduces himself by saying he's their neighbor and he's lived here for years and knows that they needs help sometimes so he comes over to help with the groceries and do the heavy lifting etc etc.

The thing is he only ever comes around when they're asleep or at an appointment or smth so it's usually just you awake/alone in the house.

It's a bit strange when things start breaking around the house. The kitchen sink leaks when it hadnt before, the cabinet hinges are loose, a light doesn't work... you could have sworn the ceiling fan wasn't that wobbly, but the house is old and you know the handsome Scot will be back to fix it anyway (not that you're complaining).

He starts to stay for hours at a time almost instantly, coming over with open arms and a bottle of wine or something sweet, awaiting a hug and asking you what's for dinner--practically pushing his way inside while palming your waist and pulling you in.

One night you seem to have had too much to drink (you didn't think you were such a lightweight after only 2 glasses of wine), your head fuzzy and limbs a bit too heavy to be comfortable.

"Y'alrigh bonnie? Seems like it's time for bed." He laughs and picks you up from your spot on the couch despite your protests of being able to walk and he really didn't have to and oh that's his hand that's definitely a rough warm calloused hand on your-

He takes you to your room and pulls back the covers for you, gently lays you down and you can't get your mouth to work to thank him.

Your eyes are already falling shut and you think you feel soft lips across your forehead before succumbing to a rather deep alcohol-induced slumber.

Your dreams that night are rather vivid. Flashes of warm skin with thick hair and rippling muscles above you, deep moans and hot breaths against your neck and chest.

You feel hands all over, gripping your waist and spreading your legs wider, toying with your chest and gripping hard around the fat.

You dream of a thick Scottish accent and filthy words. "Oh, bonnie just like that. Gonna fucking cum, gonna make me-"

When you wake up, the wet soreness you feel between your thighs and the way your nipples rub sensitive against the covers don't completely escape you, and when you make your way downstairs you find him shirtless in the kitchen with breakfast on the stove, coffee brewing, and a smile that's just a bit too wide for how early it is.