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dearly-somber · 6 months

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It’s An Affectionate Thing | j.jk

-> pairing. wolf shifter!jungkook x human!reader (f)

-> genre. fluff, f2l (friends-to-lovers), pining, unrequited love, eventual romance

-> w/c. 2183

-> rating. 13+

-> a/n. this one was an excuse to write biting because 🤭

-> warnings. N/A

-> collection. mini-series

-> started. Jun. 30th, 2022 @ 18:21

-> fin. Jun. 30th, 2022 @ 22:23

-> edited. Jul. 5th, 2022 @ 00:46

-> divider credit. @mmadeinheavenn

Jungkook is… weird, to say the least.

He just randomly came up to you in class one day, sat his ass down on the edge of your desk, and started talking to you like it was a normal, everyday routine. Which it was not.

As you got to know him, he only got weirder.

If not for his clinginess (which was admittedly strange considering you’d never met a guy so touchy with a girl who wasn’t his girlfriend), you’d say his strange habit of rubbing his head against you was probably one of his weirder characteristics.

And it wasn’t even in a creepy If-you-don’t-get-away-from-me-immediately-I’m-going-to-call-the-cops kinda way, but more so a confused, what-the-fuck-are-you-doing kinda way. He’d hug you and not so subtly rub his cheek against yours, or he’d hold your hand and make up some dumb excuse to nose your wrist (he kept insisting that you were wearing perfume when he knew you didn’t).

One time—while hugging you—he pressed his face into your neck and just… inhaled. He hasn’t done it again after you unceremoniously shoved his face away with a warning not to do it again unless he wanted to keep both his eyes, but it was beyond weird and (dare I say) creepy (at the time)

He also quite literally growled at one of your classmates when he was being a misogynistic, sexist piece of shit and wouldn’t leave you alone. And sometimes, when he’s being a brat and moaning about how you pull away too quickly after giving him a hug, he whines. Like, back of his throat, puppy-begging-for-food kind of whine.

This in of itself would be somewhat bearable, if not for his friends. They were equally as weird, if not weirder.

There were eleven of them total, seven guys and four girls—all living in the same house near the edge of town. And despite already having such a large group, they were completely unwelcoming of outsiders, too tight-knit to allow others into their ranks. People had suspected that they were in a polyamorous relationship, or that it was some weird sex cult. They hadn’t ever specifically said that they were dating amongst themselves, and being the secretive group they were, they didn’t bother acknowledging nor denying any of the crazy school rumors.

You didn’t wanna bring the rumors up with Jungkook and make him uncomfortable, so instead you chose to ignore them and pretend they weren’t there. Jungkook tried to introduce you once, but you’d seen the way they looked at you—how they glared when you walked into the cafeteria with Jungkook glued to your hip. You’d come to the nifty conclusion that they did not like you, and as much as you wanted to make Jungkook happy by letting him introduce you to his inner circle, you didn’t wanna crush his little heart by being immediately rejected.

Coming up with excuses to avoid them was hard, but if they were anything like their youngest, it was probably for the best if you kept your distance, anyway.

How you wished you’d been able to stay away for longer.

“Jungkook, I really don’t wanna go to your house.”

“But we have to go somewhere, and you already told me that your parents don’t like me.” He whines, his big bambi eyes and pouty lips making you internally groan.

“That’s because they think you’re too clingy.” You state matter of factly, deadpanning your gaze to his arm, tightly wrapped around yours.

Grinning sheepishly, he tugs you in the direction of his housemates. “C’mon, it’ll be fun!” They walk a few meters ahead of you, shoving and pushing each other while talking, rowdy laughter echoing behind them. Your heart aches for a moment, watching them enviously. They look close…

“Are we gonna be able to get anything done? There’s like. Twelve of you in one house, thirteen plus myself.” You watch them retreat further and further ahead of you, your and Jungkook’s feet dragging as you fall behind. “They don’t exactly seem like the quiet type…”

Jungkook frowns at the (hopefully) unintentional dig, clearing his throat and hesitantly intertwining your hands. When you don’t pull away, he continues. “Just give them a chance. I know the rumors are weird, but they couldn’t be farther from the truth. I promise you you’ll like them once you get to know them,” he pleads, giving you his best puppy eyes. “Please?”

You sigh, nodding concededly and reluctantly letting him pull you along. “Okay. Can we at least do the assignment somewhere private? I don’t really think your friends—”

“Family.”

The correction throws you off guard, and you stare at him. Your voice betrays you, eyes soft. “Right, your family. I don’t… I don’t think they like me very much.”

He tsks. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. But,” he turns to you and boops your nose playfully. “If it really makes you feel better, we can do the project in my room.”

His room? Why his room? Why not outside, or in the kitchen, or anywhere else but his room?

You squint your eyes at him suspiciously. “What are you planning, Jungkook?”

He grins mischievously, batting his eyelashes in an effort to make himself look more innocent than you know he is. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

You scoff. “Pervert.”

Jungkook giggles in response, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and leaning into you while not so subtly sniffing your hair.

…Brat.

Jungkook drags you upstairs to his room before any of his housemates can snatch you away from him, not bothering to listen to their rowdy complaints. He knows that they’ll overwhelm you the second they get their claws on you, and he’d preferably not scare you away just when you’re getting more comfortable around him.

He practically throws you onto his bed, followed directly by his overexcited body knocking the breath out of you. Jungkook huffs weirdly before pressing his forehead against your shoulder, hands laying curled up into your sides. Groaning, your hands shoot out to his shoulders, trying to push him off. “Can’t— can’t breathe—“

“Sorry,” he sheepishly grins, pushing himself up by his hands to look down at you with his hair flopping over his head. You catch your breath, feeling the immense relief at not having his full weight on top of you, too preoccupied to notice the compromising position you’re in—him hovering over you with his knees slotted on either side of your waist. Jungkook looks concerned when he asks, “Can you breathe yet?”

“Yeah… yeah, I can breathe. Can you uh,” your cheeks burn and you avoid meeting his eyes, your hands sliding from his shoulders. “Can you get off, please?”

“Oh, I— sorry, I’m sorry.” He gets off of you faster than you expected him to, sitting cross legged on the opposite side of the bed to give you some space. You copy him, staring at one another awkwardly. It’s your first time being in his house, let alone his room, and your heart stutters when you realize he closed the door behind you on your way in. Just great. You look at him, biting the inside of your lip. Jungkook has proven to be a very sweet boy, but he is still a boy—and you are a girl. Alone. In his bedroom.

You don’t want him getting the wrong idea.

“Listen, Kook…” He perks up, listening to you attentively. Taking an encouraging breath, you continue. “I hope you didn’t choose your room for ulterior motives, because I came here for school. I’m not going to have sex with you—“

Jungkook’s whole face turns red, frantically shaking his hands in front of you. “No no no! No, I’d never—I don’t, I don’t see you that way, I promise!” He rambles, scooting away from you in an effort to convince you that that’s not why he chose this location. Grinning stupidly, you reach over and pat his knee.

“Okay, okay, I believe you. Relax.” He pouts, crossing his arms over his chest and sulking. He just wanted to make you feel more comfortable… he didn’t think you’d take it the wrong way. Rolling your eyes at the cute pout on his lips, you ruffle his hair playfully. “Let’s get started, hm?”

You turn your back to him so that you can reach into your bag and grab your things, rifling through the books inside to look for your laptop. What you don’t notice is the weight of Jungkook’s eyes on your back—watching you and admiring the annoyed pout on your lips with a soft smile.

“Found it! So,” you cross your legs and situate the keyboard in your lap. “What do you wanna start with first? I was thinking we could start with, uhm…” Your voice dies in the back of your throat when you catch sight of Jungkook’s dazed, strangely affectionate half-smile. You clear your throat, cheeks heating up because why the fuck is he looking at you like you’ve hung the stars?

“Uhm… Jungkook?”

“Right, sorry,” he shakes his head as if to bring himself back to reality. “Why don’t we start with research first?” He’s hesitant, and you feel bad. He must think you’re going to say no.

“Sounds good. My screen is pretty small, though.” You bite your lip, thinking about how you could share the screen in a way that he wouldn’t hurt his neck.

“Uhm. I—I have… can you scoot a bit closer to the headboard?”

You look at him questioningly but give in to his hopeful puppy eyes. Sighing, you scoot back until he places a gentle hand on your knee to halt your movements. You try and look at his face but he looks down so that it’s hidden by his hair. “Jungkook?” You whisper, hesitant to increase your volume.

Jungkook either doesn’t hear you or he ignores you, clambering toward you distractedly and shifting in behind you. You suck in a breath, the hair on your arms raising. He slots his legs on either side of you, pulling you to his chest by your waist and hesitantly resting his chin on your shoulder. The closeness freezes you to the spot, and you swear you can feel him eyeing the side of your face for a reaction.

You exhale through your teeth and will yourself to relax in his arms despite your racing heart. Unbeknownst to you, Jungkook smiles, locking his hands around your waist and inhaling your scent as subtly as possible. You ignore him and clear your throat. “Shall we start with origin?” You whisper, unable to raise your voice due to the suffocating closeness, cheeks red and heart beating ten times too quickly.

Jungkook hums next to your ear. If he notices your racing heartbeat, he doesn’t comment on it.

Y/N yawns tiredly, apologizing in a half-asleep voice.

“Just take a break,” Jungkook pleads, trying to move her arms out of the way and biting back a growl of frustration when she swats his hands away from the screen.

“I’m fine.”

“You can barely keep your eyes open!” He reasons, pulling away to look at the back of her head. Stupid, stubborn girl. “Come on, Y/N. We’ve been working on this for hours. Let’s just take a quick break. Please?”

“We’re so close to finishing…” She sounds dejected, another yawn leaving her lips. Jungkook frowns at her, trying to figure out how to get her to put away her stupid computer and just take a nap, for gods sake. Knowing that this is the only course of action that’ll direct her attention to something other than this stupid class assignment, he determinedly leans forward.

You yelp in surprise, turning to Jungkook with wide eyes. Did he just—

“Did you just fucking bite me?” Your voice is filled with newfound life and energy, jaw hanging as you look down at your shoulder. Looking at him, you find no remorse in those chocolate brown eyes… only a smug, satisfied expression.

“Yes.” He laughs at the horror on your face, shaking his head as if he knows something you don’t. “It’s an affectionate thing, I promise.”

“How is you biting me an ‘affectionate thing’?” You hiss, watching as he shakes his head, hair flopping around his face cutely.

“It just is,” he shrugs. You squint suspiciously, setting the laptop down next to you while silently planning his demise.

Jungkook eyes you warily and yells when you punch his arm, rubbing the spot furiously. “What was that for!”

“Would you rather I bite you back?” You snap threateningly, sitting on your knees to look down at him. Jungkook’s eyes widen at the threat, his cheeks and the top of his ears going beet red. You grin to yourself evilly, crawling towards him. Your eyes squint in a silent threat, prowling like a bloodthirsty animal. “Just wait until I sink my teeth into you… c’mere!”

Jungkook yelps, jumping up from the bed and running away from you while incoherently yelling that no, only he’s allowed to bite you.

“Why?”

“I— I can’t tell you!”

“Guess I’m gonna bite you, then—“

“—Y/N NO!”

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daydreamingleclerc · 1 year

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corrupt // mason mount

in which; he’s the university’s superstar sports player, and you’re just an innocent little bookworm. he walks you home one night after commotion in the street and you can’t help but offer him inside.

includes; corruption kink, uncomfortable cat calling, master manipulation, excessive usage of pet names (it gets annoying, sorry), dom!mason, sub!reader, foul language, fingering, oral (m, f rec), choking, protected sex, squirting, swearing, a sprinkle of CNC.

i was listening to sk8er boi by avril lavigne and it spiraled into this. i’m not sorry. thanks @landopeaches for helping me w all the ideas and being there to lust over mason with throughout the process <3

this is filthy. and just under 10K words. please read at your own risk. don’t say i didn’t want you.

22:04.

the library didn’t normally stay open this late on friday nights, especially during the week of varsity, but you had a way with words and a very appreciated knack for batting your eyelashes.

“i think it’s-”

“-ssh, i'm writing,” you held a hand up to your housemate and best friend, becca, as you finished your train of thought before your new column ultimately came crashing to a halt, “okay, continue.”

she sat beside you, flicking through a book she clearly had no interest in. she’d given up on her sociology assignment long ago, as had savannah, who was now half asleep on one of the sofa’s further down the room. aside from the odd one or two chess club players downstairs, you were the only three in there.

“i think it’s probably a good idea for us to get going,” becca hummed, and much to your distaste, savannah had never been happier. “it’s ten p.m on a friday night, y/n, why don’t we all go pick up some food and watch a movie?”

savannah had already gotten her jacket on and slipped her bag over her shoulder. she didn’t need anymore persuasion.

“you guys go ahead,” you responded, wiggling with the mouse of your laptop as the screen dimmed, “i’ll catch up soon, i just have to finish this section of next weeks column,” becca scowled at you and before she could open her mouth, you eased her racing thoughts, “becca, i'll be fine. just pick me something and i'll pay you back later. i promise i'll be home before eleven.”

the house that the three of you lived in with two of your other housemates was only a short walk away from campus and that gave you roughly forty minutes to finish up this segment. savannah yawned and becca still looked unimpressed.

“you’d better be,” she picked her bag up off the back of her chair and slid it on her shoulder. she left a kiss on the top of your head, “because if i find your dead body in a back alley tomorrow morning, i'll kill you.”

“charming,” savannah yawned. “love you, y/n.”

“love you.” becca gave you a reluctant wave as she walked down the stairs of the library.

you didn’t leave long after the girls and as you exited the warmth of the library and walked out into the crisp april chill, you regretted not bringing a thicker jacket to cocoon yourself as you walked home. blaring music came from all angles, as did the stares and wandering eyes.

it was clear to all eyes you weren’t making your way to or from a party, dressed in a white sundress with cherries printed on the fabric and a white knitted cardigan. the pockets of the cardigan gaped with just your mobile phone, id and house keys inside them – you'd rented out a locker for the night to keep your laptop safe rather than dragging it back home and threatening to drop it.

as you turned the corner onto the main loop of on-campus flats, your palms grew sweaty. you had to pass the flats and walk across the courtyard – which was full of spillover students itching to go out to either one of the clubs in town – to get to the back gate so you could slip out into the car park and cross into your estate to get home.

a drunken body bumped into you as you crossed the road, and in turn your phone fell out of your hand as you tripped up the curb. you managed to steady yourself but unfortunately for you, your little stumble had caught the eye of a small group of drunken boys.

“hey sugar, you look lost, fancy coming up here with us?”

you didn’t recognize any of them, which was unusual considering they looked like the kind of boys who did sports, and you were a columnist in the university newspaper. you only did two sports columns a month, and the rest were focused on arts media – which was your degree, after all – because of that, you knew everybody.

you knew you should’ve responded, told them to fuck off, or at least say no; but you didn’t. you froze. all you did was shake your head, and when they got closer your legs began to speed up.

“hey, i was talking to you,” the same voice echoed, “don’t walk away from me when i'm just trying to have a conversation.”

you fought off the urge to throw up. confrontation was something you despised, especially in front of a big crowd. “are you deaf?” the voice shouted, clearly agitated now, and you could hear it getting closer and closer until it was virtually behind you.

mason, one of the school’s star ex-students and most glorified alumni noticed the commotion going on in the courtyard. luckily enough, he was stood with a friend who was smoking outside in a small congregation of people waiting to head to another party. he recognized you from the times you’d sat out on the pitch during games with your notepad and fluffy pink pen, that would always get dampened when the inevitable rain kicked in. he had a lot of time for you, even if you had no idea.

“i’m offering you sex on a plate here, love-”

“-gareth, piss off.”

your heart felt like it was pounding out of your chest in that moment, and when a familiar face stepped out of the shadows, you let out a puff of air. your eyes caught mason’s, and immediately he rushed over to you.

“y/n, are you okay?” his hand rested softly on your shoulder and massaged the hot flesh of your skin in an attempt to calm you. he waited for you to nod, and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, “you’re freezing, do you want to borrow my jacket?”

you shook your head and couldn’t help getting lost in the way he got the boys to mutter an apology and scramble away with their tails – dicks – between their legs.

“where are you off to?”

“uh, i, um,” you pinched the bridge of your nose and tried to compose your thoughts. in the three years you’d known mason, he’d never once touched you this way. a complimentary nod of the head after a quick post-match interview or a stolen glance in the hall followed by a soft smile were all the emotional bridges you’d built together. “i'm on my way home.”

mason gestured to his friends to go on without him as he continued to walk with an arm around your shoulder. “i’ll walk you home, babe, okay?” he hooked his thumb under your chin and got you to look over at him, “i’ve just got to stop off at a party and show my face for ten minutes, whereabouts do you live?”

“uh, forty-two goodwood drive.” your voice came out quieter than expected, and mason hummed, nodding his head when his lips formed a smile.

“perfect, the parties at twenty-eight goodwood drive, we can stop off there for ten minutes, have a drink and then i can walk you to the door.”

“we?” you frowned, “i'm not good with big crowds, mason.”

he tutted, “that’s a lie, remember last year when you stood up in front of all the freshers with that powerpoint on how they could join the school newspaper?”

you were shocked he remembered that, and it took you a minute to compute his words and formulate a response. “that was different, it was work related,” a knot formed between your eyebrows and that usual smirk had found its way back to mason’s face. it seemed to be a permanent feature. “honestly, mason. it's fine, i can walk myself home.”

“no, darling. i've said i'll walk you home, please,” he stopped to look at you for a minute, and the knot between your eyebrows released as if subconsciously, “let me at least walk you home.”

it flattered you that mason mount of all people was willing to walk you home. not even men you dated offered to do that. and he had almost begged you.

“if you insist.”

he patted your shoulder with the tips of his fingers and you began walking again, safe in the cage of his arm.

“atta girl.”

22:50

it seemed to be a night of firsts.

for the first time, the campus celebrities, as becca called them, had allowed you into their party as if you were one of their own. mason had poured you a drink and you held the red cup between both hands to hide the shakes. you wanted to say they’d come on because of the drunken cat calling, but you knew on the surface it was because mason was keeping you close.

you were thankful, nobody really knew you at this party other than maybe two people, one of them being mason. it was clear you were uncomfortable; the push and shove of drunken antics wasn’t something you were particularly used to. you knew your limits, and at the grand old age of twenty-three, you expected everybody else to know theirs, too.

it seemed, wherever mason was, a flock of people followed. he had his very own fan club. mason was already a student when you’d arrived, he'd graduated university from his sports science combined course a year early because he was scouted by a football agent and now he was off playing league football and crushing it, you had to admit. he still had a lot of friends here and came back semi-regularly to join in on the parties and sex.

the pair of you sat down on a plush suede sofa, and he noticed you checking your watch for the time. you’d been twiddling your thumbs at this party as mason’s impromptu plus one for twenty-five minutes, and you anxiously tapped your fingers on your knees. you were supposed to be home in seven minutes.

“whats up, princess?”

your cheeks heated up at the use of his constant pet names, but this one seemed to take the cake. “i told my housemates i'd be back at the house for eleven.”

when he flashed that signature mason smirk that you found yourself fawning over for months, the familiar knot formed between your eyebrows. “you can allow yourself to be a little bit late, darling,” mason’s expression then mimicked yours, “do they keep tabs on you like they own you or something?”

his question took you by surprise. it was the first proper rude thing he’d said to you all night, and that’s how you expected him to be around you, but so far, he was everything but. “i’m kidding,” he suppressed a chuckle and scooted closer, “just tell them you’re gonna be a little late, babe. don't worry, you’re safe with me.”

he shot you a wink, and it sent butterflies swarming around your body and wetness pooling in your underwear. this was probably the most turned on a man had ever made you, and he hadn’t even touched you, or said anything remotely sexual.

before mason could open his mouth, a boy you vaguely recognized as someone from the hockey team slid over and sat on the corner of the coffee table. immediately, they got into conversation, and you found yourself once again admiring the way he held himself. you snapped out of it almost instantly.

“who's the girl then, mase? got yourself a new toy?”

“his new what?”

“got myself a new what?”

yours and mason’s questions overlapped, and immediately his friend could sense that what he said was wrong. he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or apologize, and then he saw mason’s expression and chose the latter. he scurried off, and you placed your cup down on the coffee table in front of you.

“i think i should just go,” as you went to get up, mason grabbed your wrist and you caught one another's eyes, “mason, please.”

he pleaded with his eyes to get you to stay, “don’t listen to anything dom says, sweetheart,” mason scowled in his direction and dom couldn’t help but keep flickering his eyes over at the pair of you in regret, “he doesn’t know his brains from his balls, and that’s why he’s on the hockey team.”

he pulled a laugh from your lips and it immediately put him at ease.

“promise you won’t listen?” his hand brushed your knee, and you fought every inebriated urge you had to not pounce on him.

“mhm, i promise, mason,” you smiled, placing your hand on top of his. he smiled and scooted closer ever so slightly, “thank you.”

“good girl,” his words ignited a flame inside of your stomach, and the wet patch inside your underwear grew significantly. you'd never been called those words before, and he knew what he was doing when the knowing smirk grew. “would you like another drink?”

“yes, please,” you squeezed your legs together when his fingers brushed closer as he stood up, and he knew how he made you feel within seconds. you grabbed his fingers as he lifted them from your leg. you looked so innocent he could’ve exploded. “don’t be too long, please.”

“you’re so cute when you’re clingy,” he watched as your cheeks lit up in heat, “i'll only be over there. two minutes, tops.”

eleven o'clock had been and gone. becca and savannah had tried to ring multiple times to stick their noses in and find out what was going on, but you’d be leaving soon, and once mason had walked you to the door, they’d be all yours to gossip with.

you shifted in your spot, and tried to peel yourself off the sofa without distracting mason from his conversation with somebody you didn’t recognize at all, but it was unsuccessful. “where are you going, babe?”

“i need to pee,” you shifted again, and got up successfully without mason stopping you. he finished his conversation abruptly and you almost rolled your eyes, “where are the toilets?”

“i’ll take you.”

“i don’t need you to be my bodyguard, mason. just tell me where the toilets are and i'll go on my own.”

his lip quirked up into a hint of a smile. you got sassy when you’d had a drink. that boded well for him and his everlasting thoughts of you in compromising positions.

“darling, with all due respect you don’t know anybody here and i don’t want you wandering,” he finished the dregs of his drink, “i'll take you and then we can leave, c’mon, give me your drink.”

“why?”

“because i don’t want people seeing you holding it and it getting spiked, c’mon.”

you gave in rather easily and handed mason your half-full cup with a thoughtful smile. you hadn’t gone for a wee since before you left the library, and now you’d been holding it for a while it was something of a relief to be going. he took you to another bathroom, one in a less quiet part of the house. he had clearly been here multiple times before.

“you’re not gonna come in with me too, are you?”

“depends,” mason shrugged, “are you offering?”

you swatted his arm with a friendly punch, even though a part of you wanted to say yes and have him take you then and there in the bathroom. the door unlocked and a couple walked out, hair in disarray and clothes mismatched. brilliant.

“you just wait at the door, big guy.”

it stank of weed and sex in the room as you homed in on your surroundings as you peed. what started out as a stressful night had soon become enjoyable, and all thoughts of anxiety you had before you arrived at the party had washed away. you couldn’t hear mason at the door, even though you wouldn’t have been able to anyway because of the thumping bass; but you half expected him to be gone by the time you opened the door.

you wiped your hands on your dress and smoothed over your hair in the mirror. your mascara smudged in both corners of your eyes, and you cleaned it up, merging the outer smudges into your eyeliner. mason was stood with a soft smile on his face when you walked out, and you mimicked it, “i expected you to have found someone better to spend your evening with, thank you for waiting.”

“better than you?” he handed you your cardigan, the one you didn’t even realize you were missing, and you slipped your arms into it, “impossible, darling.”

you blushed again and covered your face with your hands, suppressing a delicate giggle from masons ears. he made sure the cardigan was on your shoulders, and a shiver trickled down your spine when he pulled your hair out, so it wasn’t trapped between fabrics.

“okay princess, finish your drink,” he handed you the cup and you downed it in one, trusting him enough in that moment to know that he wouldn’t spike it, and he raised his eyebrows, impressed, “all in one, good girl.”

your mind raced at the dirty scenario echoing through it, and heat pooled all over your body. you were honestly surprised you couldn’t feel your own slick on your thighs. nobody had ever made you feel like this before, and mason loved the hold he had on your achingly innocent persona. you subconsciously bit your lip and mason fought off a guttural moan.

“what’s with that expression, darling, hm? was it something i said?”

you opened your mouth to react, but he pinched your hip, laughed and wrapped an arm around your shoulders once again, the pair of you wandering down the hall like nobody's business.

he checked the time on your watch as you walked, lifting up your wrist as if it were a feather, and pulled a faux shocked face at the time. “oh dear, sweetheart,” he tutted, “eleven eighteen, your owners will be waiting up for you.”

you rolled your eyes at his jab, the second rude one of the night. one more and you’d be summoning up the courage to punch him in the face.

“they aren’t my owners, mason. they're my friends and they care.”

the two of you stepped out into the cold night air, your nipples hardening against the lace of your bra and scratching against the cotton of your dress. your thighs immediately came up in goosebumps and the cold was a nice juxtaposition to the heat pulsing your clit.

“so you’ve never submitted to anyone, darling?” he asked, shoving his free hand in his jacket pocket, ignoring the crowds of people wandering the streets and girls throwing up in bushes, “let them take complete ownership of you? let yourself go?”

his words shot straight to your core. you fumbled for a reply.

“uh, no, i.. um, i don’t think so.”

stupid reply.

“you don’t think so? oh, sweetheart. you'd know if you did,” as you got closer to your house, a swarm of longing pulled at your chest and you yearned for him now, in a way you’d never yearned for anybody in your life. “but then again, you’ve never tried it with me.”

the last part was muttered, and you could barely hear it.

“what?” you whined, the short, abrupt question coming out in a far more sexual tone than necessary.

“nothing for you to worry about darling,” he patted your cheek softly, “look, you’re home now.”

you half expected him to fall back on his promise, to walk away now and leave you high and dry. to leave you to sort out the mess he’d created, but you’d yearn for more than just the touch of your own fingertips or the ripple of a vibrator. you just didn’t know how to ask him.

he walked you right up to the door, as he said he would.

“thank you, mason,” you smiled. everything inside of you screamed to ask if he wanted to come inside, but when you opened your mouth, you just found the question too overwhelming. “i... uh...”

“what’s up darling?” he questioned, “don’t be shy. use your words.”

he smirked at the way you shivered. there was that feeling between your legs. again.

“do you... um. will you come in?”

he couldn’t help but lean across to kiss you. your lips soft against his slightly rough ones, and your hands flew up to his chest and your palms rested on the warmth of his white shirt. he kissed by the book, exactly how you imagined he would, and when he took your bottom lip between his teeth and swiped his tongue along it, you yelped.

you were too innocent, like bubble wrap left unpopped. he wanted to corrupt you from the inside out.

his dick hardened in his jeans.

“want me to make sure that you get into bed safe?” you nodded and his thumb brushed your bottom lip, and in a bold move you took it into your mouth and circled your tongue around it. you'd never done that to anybody in your life. it even shocked you.

“god,” mason groaned, finding the doorhandle with his free hand, “such an obedient little girl, hm?”

23:27

when becca and savannah saw mason standing in their hallway with a playboy smirk dressed over his face and a charm they just couldn’t resist, they couldn’t quite believe it. it boded worse for you in the long run, because they now saw with their own eyes that he was standing in your hallway, and they would be pacing around the livingroom until he left in the early hours so they could finally get their answers. becca was on the netball team, so mason recognized her.

“hey, becca,” he hummed, as effortlessly as ever. as if he didn’t just make out with you on your own damn porch. “still playing netball?”

she towered over him, her five-foot twelve slim frame was the perfect one for netball and she used it to her advantage, even if she wasn’t that good at the sport.

“mhm,” she nodded, snapping out of her trance for a minute. savannah was still simply stood next to becca in awe, “thanks for bringing y/n home.”

“it was my pleasure,” he looked at you and smiled, and your entire body rocked with heat. “she’s asked me to stick around for an hour or two, if that’s okay with you two, of course?”

you couldn’t help the little smirk that quipped at the corners of your mouth and you hid your face in his bicep. mason was playing into the joke he’d made earlier at becca and savannah being your owners. the pair of them nodded, and mason looked over at you.

“where’s your bedroom, darling?”

savannah almost choked when she heard the pet name.

“uh, top floor on the left,” his hand ran down your arm and his fingers entwined with yours as he walked to the stairs, and once again you tugged on his fingers, “would you like some tea?”

mason's mind raced. your innocence really wasn’t an act. he wanted to pity you, or patronize you, or build up an orgasm until it bubbled up inside of you and you squeaked and squealed and thrashed around in his arms until you begged him to let you cum. his dick grew again, but he just smiled.

“sure, darling,” he squeezed your fingers, “milk and two sugars, please.”

you nodded and watched as he walked straight up to the top floor of the house. you averted both becca and savannah’s eyes as you walked past them through into the kitchen. pizza boxes sat on the counter, with one unopened for you.

“what the fuck was all that about?” savannah questioned.

you unintentionally ignored her, to focused on drowning out the slick between your legs. nobody had ever made you feel this way, nobody had ever left you as needy or as desperate for sex as he had. in all fairness, you’d only had sex with one person, and it wasn’t even that good.

becca snapped her fingers in front of your eyes and you zoned back into the conversation. you smiled.

“oh, uh, he walked me home and we got to talking,” you shrugged as you pulled the milk from the fridge, “turns out we get on well, so i invited him in.”

“go y/n,” savannah clapped her hands together, “finally got a sexu-”

“-bye girls, thanks for the pizza!”

as you juggled with two cups of tea and the box of unopened pizza, mason walked into your kitchen. he'd already made himself at home, it seemed, seeing as his jacket and shoes were back up in your bedroom. “need some help, princess?” he asked, and when the pet name arose again you blushed heavily, and mason took the pizza box from your hand, “see you girls later.”

23:52

“i’m so boring, aren’t i?”

you asked him. you couldn’t help it.

you were sat between his legs and watching a movie on your teeny tiny tv screen at the foot of your bed. mason's eyebrows furrowed and he stroked at the skin on your arm. he couldn’t help but kiss the back of your head.

“not at all, darling. why do you say that?”

you shrugged, too embarrassed to answer. sex never came easy to you, you were the stereotypical bookworm student. you stayed out of trouble, you did your assignments and handed them in way before they were due. you were co-editor of the student newspaper, for fucks sake. you weren't the kind of girl that brought home hot, sexy, god-like alumni into her bedroom on friday nights just for a hook up.

mason knew that, and it was all part of the reason you enamored him.

“i’m not... i just... i'm... frigid.”

mason tutted and tucked some hair behind your ear, “you aren’t frigid, darling. you just need someone to loosen you up a little bit, someone to answer to, don’t you?”

you felt his dick grow harder underneath you, and it sent a shiver up your spine. you nodded, and mason spun your head around, so you were looking at him. his breath was hot on your face and you heaved for a breath when his fingers found your thighs.

“there’s so much i wish i could do to you, little one,” you gulped audibly, a shaky, hot breath, “but i won’t do it if you aren’t ready.”

“w-what.. um, w-what do you want to do?”

mason's fingers grazed higher and higher up your leg, and he was painstakingly close to the sticky slick on your inner high thighs.

“i want to do so much to you, darling, but i fear if i tell you, you’ll break my heart,” his fingers grazed at the soaked cotton of your pants and he laughed lowly, “but then again, if i tell you, it might make you wetter than you have been all night.”

you mewled when he dragged his finger between your folds over your underwear. you opened your mouth to ask him a question, but he shushed it with his free hand, bringing the tip of his index finger to the middle of your plump lips. “is this the first time you’ve been touched here, darling?” you shook your head. “yes? no? use your words.”

“n-no, mason.”

“you’re not a virgin?”

“shockingly, no,” your sarcastic comment left mason pinching your clit over your underwear and you yelped, “i’ve had sex once before.”

“just once?” he questioned, and watched the way your body writhed when he finally pushed the damp cotton aside to stroke your clit. he could’ve growled at the feeling of your pussy in his hand. “oh, darling, you’ve got so much to learn.”

mason's fingers worked expertly on your clit, and you couldn’t help but widen your legs. he certainly found it with ease, which is more than you can say for the guy you lost your virginity to. you lifted your hips and mason helped you wriggle free from the cotton restraint, and his mouth was watering at the thought of your bare, naked pussy. he wanted to scoot around and lick it.

“was he good, baby?” mason asked, lips nibbling along the outer shell of your ear. “did he touch your clit like this, hm? or did he -” with his free hand, mason rubbed at your nipples through your dress and bra, “- roll your nipples like this? hm?”

you wriggled around and let his fingers explore your body, itching to let him touch you more. “n-no, mason. he didn’t touch me like this.”

mason tutted, “come on, baby, what did he do?”

“he used me to make himself feel good,” you hummed, getting more and more used to the fact that he was swirling your clit around with his fingers, “i didn’t enjoy anything.”

“such a shame, darling. you're gonna be used to make me feel good, but i promise you’ll enjoy it because i know how to handle innocent little girls like you,” he kissed your neck, “i was hoping to be the first person to bury myself inside your pretty little cunt, but i'll just have to be the first to do everything else.” he chuckled lowly at the way your breath hitched, and when he slapped your clit it made you jolt.

“did he ever make you cum?”

you shook your head.

“n-no, mason.”

another clit slap.

“why are you slapping me?” you pouted, “have i done something wrong?”

the confusion was evident on your face. you couldn’t figure out why he was slapping you, and the crease between your eyebrows formed. mason’s hand moved from your chest to your chin and turned your face to his. “are you going to address me by my name like a good girl?”

the crease deepened and mason couldn’t help but laugh at you, and you frowned.

“w-what?”

“are you going to be a good girl for daddy?” your heart almost jumped out of your chest. your eyes grew a shade darker with lust and mason didn’t go unnoticed. he slapped your pussy again. “answer, princess.”

“d-daddy?” you questioned, and mason almost blew a load in his pants.

“mhm, yes princess. understood?”

you nodded your head. “yes, daddy. thank you, daddy.”

he rolled his eyes and released a groan, unable to suppress it any longer, and now he could feel a wet patch of pre-cum forming in his pants. “fucking hell, babygirl, you’re gonna be the death of me, aren’t you?” he shifted, and moved so you were now sitting against the headboard and he was staring down at you. he got down to his knees, the way his breath hitched when he was face to face with your pussy made your back tingle. “do you want me to eat this pretty little cunt?”

“uh.. uhm.. okay,” you hesitated. mason noticed and began to massage your thighs with his fingers, digging into the soft flesh. “i’ve never... um. nobody has ever...”

“relax, princess, i'll make you feel good. it's all part of daddy’s job to look after his little girl.”

a rush of blood swarmed to your clit and you moaned softly at his words. he was corrupting you already. he traced the cherries on the hem of your dress, “these are pretty fruits, baby, can you tell me what they are?”

he began to kiss your inner thighs in that moment.

“uhm, they’re cherries, d-daddy.”

“mhm, well done darling,” you wriggled when his teeth sunk into the flesh of your thigh, but he soon soothed the sting when his tongue ran over it, and it formed a pretty mark of his teeth, “tell you what, princess. if anything gets too much – today, or ever – in one of these situations, you just say cherries, just like the ones on your pretty dress.”

you nodded, but you were still confused. “why do i have to say cherries though?”

“because, baby, sometimes your brain won’t be working properly and you’ll need a distinct word that means stop, do you understand?” you nodded again, and mason’s fingers traced your pussy again. he wasn’t looking at you now, his attention had been drawn to your clit, red and aching, but he was still talking. “it’s easier for daddy to pick up on that word rather than stop, baby, because sometimes i won’t be listening. i need to make sure you’re safe.”

“w-why?” you could feel his fingers swirling around your inner lips and you fought every urge for a moan.

“because, you’re my submissive, and as your dominant, i have a duty of care over you.”

you shivered at that. your head was spinning so fast it felt like it was going to fall off. mason's tongue had darted out of his mouth and licked at your clit, you jolted, but he didn’t put it away. instead, wherever your hips dragged you, he followed, his lips never leaving your clit. his tongue flicked repetitively, and his lips suctioned around it, sucking at your clit as if he were drinking through a straw.

as you wriggled, mason's arms caged your hips down onto the bed, so now you were unable to wriggle away and you cried out his name in a weak, pathetic little moan. he pulled off of your clit with a pop, “oh, babygirl,” he tutted, “you can do better than that for me, can’t you? i know you can.”

he licked a teasing stripe up your pussy and delved around your hole, where his tongue slipped inside and you yelped, bucking your hips up into his face and crying out his name again. “oh, mason... oh.. fu- your tongue.. feels so good,” the sensation tingling away inside of you was one you’d never felt during sex before, and the pad of a tongue licking and lapping at your clit felt particularly strange. “oh.. god.”

mason used his hands to part your lips further, allowing his face to be buried deeper into you and your hands sprung to his hair. he hummed against your clit as he licked, nibbled and swirled his tongue, and the pleasure was almost unbearable. he bumped your clit with his nose when his tongue slipped back inside you again, and raised his eyes so he was looking directly into yours. the contact was almost too much, and the butterflies were beginning to get overwhelming. your orgasm was fast approaching.

he held your legs open further and pushed the hem of your dress up, so it rested at your bellybutton. you could see his nose and cheeks glistening with your wetness, and the butterflies that swarmed in your stomach had begun to travel south.

“d-d-daddy... i... i can... i'm all tingly... i think i'm gonna...”

mason pulled away from you right as you felt like the dam was going to open, and you whined, thrashing around in protest. he raised an eyebrow, “you need to ask daddy for permission to cum, little one,” he slapped the inside of your thigh and you winced, biting down on your bottom lip, “because your pretty little cunt is his, and you need to ask for permission to use something you don’t own.”

oh.

he lay there, waiting patiently.

“can i please cum, daddy?”

mason was satisfied with your plea, at least for now. he wasn’t going to have you begging until you cried this time. “of course, princess,” he hummed, delving back into your pussy. you mewled and he mumbled against your clit, “daddy’s pretty little cunt.”

with that, your orgasm hit you. you thrashed around at the feeling, lifting your hips off the bed. immediately, mason’s hands splayed under your bum, holding you up as he continued to eat like his last meal. you cried out, almost screaming at the sensation. becca always talked about her boyfriend doing this, and you never understood why she liked it so much – until now.

you tapped at mason’s head when you couldn’t take it anymore, and he pulled off of your clit with a pop. his entire chin glistened, and it ignited a fire in your eyes. arousal seeped through your veins, and mason couldn’t help but laugh against your lips when you sat up and pulled him closer by the collar of his knitted jumper.

in a bold move, your hand dropped to his crotch and you felt his dick, rock hard and straining his jeans. you blushed upon having the realisation that you’d never sucked anyone off before, and you were almost definitely about to suck off mason. that, and his dick felt fucking huge.

“what’s up, little one?”

mason pulled away from your lips and tucked the loose hair behind your ear, and you couldn’t help but bury your head into his neck. he hooked his hand under your cheek and lifted you up softly, looking deep into your eyes. there was a moment of peace, where he scanned your eyes for any discomfort, but you were determined to see it through.

“it feels... big.”

your cheeks felt hotter than the sahara desert by this point, and mason chuckled at your innocence.

“do you think so, babygirl?” he questioned, and his fingers curled around yours and made you squeeze at it. he groaned at the contact. “should we see if you’re right, hm?”

you nodded eagerly, and mason almost fainted when your eyes grew black with lust. he placed your hand firmly back into your lap, and he stood up to pull his shirt off. you almost drooled at the sight of his naked torso, and the tattoo’s scattered around it. he unlooped his belt effortlessly, and within seconds his jeans were tossed to the floor. his dick was so hard that the tip poked out from the waistband of his jeans, red and desperate for some attention.

he kept his eyes on yours to gage your reaction as he pulled down his boxers. you were right. it was huge. and thick. it inflated mason’s ego to triple the size it already was, and he loved how easy you were becoming, but this was only the tip of the iceberg. he wanted to make you his, and by the end of the night, he would make sure you were the only girl that he was corrupting.

“t-that’s supposed to fit... i-inside me?”

“mhm,” mason’s hand jacked himself off as he stood up at the edge of the bed, your head at the perfect height to suck. “it will, baby, and it will hurt, but i'll make it fit, you haven’t got to worry about a thing,” he pinched your cheek and you subconsciously smiled. commotion went on outside your bedroom door, one of your housemates was sneaking along the landing, and it caught your attention, but mason pulled your head back to face him with his finger hooked under your chin, “it’s not gonna suck itself, darling.”

you gulped. “i’ve... i haven’t... you're going to have to teach me, daddy.”

mason had to stop jacking himself off and pause for a moment in fear of ejaculating all over your face at the sentence that just left your mouth.

“okay, princess, but first you’ll need to take this off,” he ruffled the hem of your dress and you frowned, “don’t give me that look, babygirl. it's only fair.”

you hooked your arms out of your bra and dress all in one, and mason helped you step out of it steadily. his breath hitched when he saw you naked, drinking in the sight of your naked body. you'd never looked more beautiful, and he’d never been so desperate to be buried inside of someone.

he leaned down to kiss your lips, and then slid down onto the bed, so his head was at the pillows. you followed suite, kneeling down at his side. he guided your hand to his dick silently, and you giggled softly when he helped you move your hand up and down, “that’s good, baby,” he said, running his fingers up to your wrist to loosen the movement slightly, “now lean over so your mouth is hovering over it, and spit on the head.”

“t-the head?”

“the tip, baby, the tip,” mason chuckled at your innocence, and you did as he asked. spit hung from the tip of your outsplayed tongue and trickled down to the head of his penis. as you smeared it around with your hand, your thumb ran over the slit of his dick and he jolted, a groan tumbling from his lips. your eyes shot up to face him, looking like a dear in the headlights as you feared you did something wrong, but mason shook his head. “that’s good darling, so good. why don’t you – fuck – why don’t you try and take it in your mouth.”

you leaned down, so your lips were millimeters from his dick, and took a deep breath. you’d always envisioned doing this, and who it would be with, and none of your fantasies could ever compare to this.

your lips pursed around the head, taking just that into your mouth and looking up at mason through your eyelashes. he seemed to like that a lot judging by the way he looked down at you and nodded. “okay, little one, you’re doing such a good job,” he patted your head subconsciously, “now, alternate between bobbing your head, twisting your hand and running your tongue around the head. just get a feel for it, darling, okay? i don’t want to cum just yet.”

you nodded, and much to your surprise you enjoyed the compromising position you had been put in. mason made it feel so easy, so comfortable, and it made your heart flutter and your pussy throb. you began to bob your head gradually, taking more and more in with every move. mason admired your innocence and every time he remembered that his dick was the first one you’d had inside your mouth – your sweet, innocent, virgin mouth – he wanted to bust a load.

“oh god, yes, little one,” mason’s hand bunched your hair up in his hand out of habit, and you gagged around him as he thrusted up into your mouth ever so slightly, “you’re doing so well for me, got such a pretty little mouth.”

you moaned, and the vibrations sent shockwaves up his dick and all over his body. he thrusted up into your mouth and you gagged again, your eyes watering at the sensation but you liked it. “play with my – fuck – play with my balls, baby, just squeeze them gently,” mason cooed, smoothing your cheeks with his free hand, and you did as you were told, halting the movements of your hand stroking his dick so you could use it to stabilize you as you fondled his balls. he groaned loudly, “fuuuck, baby. that's it, such a good little girl.”

he thrusted up into your mouth again and this time spit came spluttering out of your mouth and landed along the prickly skin around his pubic bone. your eyes watered again, so much so that the tears soaked your eyelashes and mason lowered his hips. “you okay, baby? do you wanna stop?”

you nodded sheepishly. mason's dick fell from your mouth and the tip rested at his bellybutton. he noticed your knotted eyebrows, “what’s up, darling?”

“my mouth.. it tastes weird.”

he chuckled and couldn’t believe how innocent you were.

“that’s because it’s no longer a virgin mouth, little one. it's now forever tainted with the taste of my pre-cum,” he leaned over and kissed your lips, swiping his tongue across your bottom lip, “you’re going to be tainted with my taste forever now, baby. never getting rid of me.”

he used his strength to roll you over, so you were now laying with your head at the pillows. he admired how pretty you looked. anxiety pounded in your chest, and you suddenly got overwhelmed, but you knew it would pass, it was just nerves. mason noticed, and tucked some hair behind your ear.

“do you remember your word, darling?”

“cherries, daddy.”

“good girl,” he leaned down to kiss your lips, “if you want daddy to stop, you need to use that word, understood?”

“mhm,” you nodded, and leaned up to kiss him. he chuckled at your neediness. “there’s.. um... i have... in the bathroom cabinet.. there’s some... condoms.”

“daddy’s shy little girl wants him to fuck her, hm?”

you mewled underneath him and fought off a blush by buring your head in the pillows when his finger grazed between your folds, and you jolted at the sensitivity, “please, daddy, i... i... i need it. i need you.”

mason fought back the urge to fuck you raw.

“babygirl, listen to yourself beg for me,” he tutted, standing up and slipping on your dressing gown momentarily to go to the bathroom, “such a naughty little thing, hm? weren’t like this an hour ago. i've turned you into a little slut, haven’t i?”

the last part of the sentence was partially shouted as he wandered into the bathroom you shared with another housemate, and you could’ve died there and then. you only hoped everyone else was minding their own damn business.

he came back with a handful of condoms, and the dressing gown was tossed to the floor with the rest of the clothes. “go on, baby, say you’re daddy’s little slut,” he teased, “otherwise i'll leave you high and dry, begging for my cock all night.”

your cheeks heated up as you opened your mouth. mason stood there, cock on full display, waiting patiently. you took a breath, “you’ve turned me into a little slut, daddy.”

he made a satisfied hum noise and ripped the condom open with ease. you watched as he rolled it on and he climbed back on the bed, the sheer touch of his skin on yours leaving you with goosebumps. his fingers ran through your folds again and your wetness was enough.

his hand outstretched your leg, so it was out at an angle to the side while the other was bent at the knee draped over his shoulder. you moaned at the feeling of being poked and prodded so he could get you exactly how he wanted you.

you squirmed with anticipation as mason guided himself to your pussy, and when he slipped inside you let out a strangled, desperate moan. every time you thought his dick was fully inside of you, you were proved wrong, and with the angle of your legs, he only penetrated you deeper. he groaned at your tightness and the way his dick seemed to slot perfectly inside you.

“fuck, little one,” his pubic bone hit your skin and he successfully buried himself to the hilt inside of you. “your cunt is so wet and tight, fits me so well, like it was made for me.”

you mewled at his words and attempted to buy your head in the pillows beside you but mason grabbed your chin with his hand and forced you to look at him above you. he pulled out and pushed back in the whole way once again. “don’t you ever look away,” his fingers squeezed at your cheeks and moved down your face until they gripped at your neck, “daddy always wants to see the way your eyes roll back when he hits -” mason raised his hips up so the angle of his hips changed ever so slightly and he smirked when your eyes rolled back with a moan of his name, “that spot. such a naughty little girl.”

“mhm,” you mumbled, already feeling a pressure building between your hips, “your naughty little girl, daddy.”

“fuckin’ right,” mason's fingers squeezed your neck in approval, “daddy’s dirty little girl, you’re filthy, aren’t you?”

you could feel him hitting so deep inside of you and the way his hips slowed with each pull out had you on the verge of screaming. your headboard began to thud dully against the wall and you couldn’t help but let out a long, drawn out moan.

“gonna wake up the house if you keep moaning like a whore, baby,” mason cooed, pushing himself forward so the stretch in your legs began to sting and the angle of his dick grew deeper, “i can feel you clenching my dick, darling. such a tight little pussy.”

your hands gripped at his shoulders and mason’s head dropped between your bodies so he could watch himself slipping in and out of your pussy. the angle of your body underneath him was driving him insane and he couldn’t help it when a moan slipped past his lips.

the closer you got to an orgasm, the louder you became, and it only spurred mason on further. he was itching to get you cumming, and so when his fingers brushed your clit and you almost screamed in pleasure, he smirked. you were almost positive that savannah and becca could hear the entire thing from their rooms on the bottom floor.

“d-daddy...”

mason smiled, thumb pulling at your bottom lip. “yes, little one?”

“i’m gonna cum,” you cried, arching your back up off the bed, “please, daddy.”

mason tutted. you were going to have to beg a lot better than that.

“come on, darling, you can beg better than that,” he left a kiss to your jawline, “i know you turn into a mindless whore when you’re being fucked, but that was pathetic.”

you squeaked and clenched around his dick again. your body was in overdrive and with every thrust it felt like you were going to explode.

“d-daddy... please,” you choked, throat running dry, “p-please, i need to cum, i'll do anything, p-please, daddy.”

“you’ll do anything? oh, darling. i wouldn’t say something like that if you don’t mean it.”

“please, i’m so close,” you were panting now, fighting off your orgasm with every passing second. mason leaned down to kiss your lips hotly, pulling your lip between his teeth and biting down so hard he almost drew blood, “please.”

your begging attempt was satisfactory. for now.

“go on then, darling,” he drawled, “cum for daddy like a good girl.”

you couldn’t help the scream that left your mouth, and your orgasm shook your body so hard that it left your limbs twitching. this orgasm seemed to be more fulfilling, and lasted longer than the others you’d had this evening. your clenching pussy triggered mason’s orgasm, and despite the fact he came into the condom, you could still feel the heat of his cum inside of you.

it was only when you noticed the wet sheets underneath your bum and mason’s wet torso that your eyebrows furrowed.

“fucking hell, little one,” mason groaned, pulling out of you and looking down at the seeping sheets, “look at the mess you’ve made.”

“what happened...? what did i do?”

it had only just dawned on mason that you were completely clueless. this was the first time you’d ever squirted.

“you just wet the bed, babygirl,” he rolled to the side of you and your eyebrows furrowed, “daddy fucked you so well and so deep that you squirted.”

he admired the way your eyes widened, and he smirked. if he wasn’t sure about keeping you in his life before, he was definitely going to keep you around now. you yawned, completely and utterly exhausted from the night’s events, and mason pushed the sweaty hair out of your face, “we need to get you clean, sweetheart.”

“mm, tired,” was all you could say, fighting off a yawn, “just wanna sleep.”

mason stood up and slipped your dressing gown back over his shoulders. your eyelids continued to flutter, and you would’ve fallen asleep had he not have handed you his shirt and boxers, “come on, darling, you need to clean yourself up,” you sighed but obeyed his words, pulling the shirt over your head, “i’ll help you put fresh sheets on too, okay?”

his hand looped through yours as he guided you to your bathroom, and your eyebrows furrowed again. mason began to run the water and you sat on the toilet seat. “you’re helping?” you asked, scrunching your nose, “i thought you were just going to leave.”

mason laughed. you really were clueless, and it was adorable to him.

“you really think i'd fuck you like that and then just walk away?” mason raised an eyebrow, and once again, the thought dawned on him that that’s exactly what happened to you after your first time. that was all you’d ever known. “oh, sweetheart, no, i wouldn’t ever do that to you.”

he tested the temperature of the water with the tips of his fingers, and helped you wriggle out of his shirt as you stepped into it. he kissed your forehead as you rested your arms on the side of the bath.

“pack a bag and come to my house next weekend,” he said nonchalantly, and suddenly, all your exhaustion had dissipated, “please.”

“y-you want me to...”

“i’m not asking you, y/n,” his stern bedroom voice had returned and it sent shivers down your spine, “i’m telling you.”

your heart settled in your chest and he smiled against your lips when you leaned over the bath and kissed him. “i’ll stay at yours if you stay here.”

“i wasn’t planning on going anywhere, darling,” he kissed your nose, “you’re going to get sick of me.”

you smiled.

“impossible.”

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watermelonlovershigh · 1 month

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another sickfic/period prompt.. living together as friends/housemates and H finds her on the floor in the night feeling really sick from her period and sits with her + helps her out 🥲 changes her sheets for her, rubs her back and just holds her on the floor with a blanket round them. she's absolutely mortified with no choice but to be accepting of his help and all he wants to do is make her feel a little better :(

Period Cramps Are No Fun {part 1.} (housemate!harry series)

AN: thank you for this request. it's not exactly as the request said but i hope it's close enough. and i normally don't write harry as anything other than y/n's lover but made an exception with this story. please share your feedback with me and let me know how you liked it. enjoy. xoxoxoxo

This story contains: small period leak, severe period cramping, puking due to period cramps, crying due to pain and embarrassment, mentions of sex toys, comfort, fluff

{ housemate!harry - friend!harry - softrry - any harry era - au!harry }

word count- 1,956

You wake up in the middle of the night with severe period cramps and when your housemate and friend Harry happens to wake up for a glass of water, he sees you on the bathroom floor crying and has no choice but to be by your side and comfort you.

You were looking to be someones flatmate or housemate. You'd put offer after offer online and one day a guy named Harry accepted your offer. He had a pretty nice townhouse in London and from his brief description of himself, seemed to be an alright guy. You didn't want to move in with some lazy scumbag and you'd come to find Harry is the opposite of that.

He's probably the cleanest guy you've ever met. He enjoys keeping things organized and loves to keep the house smelling fresh with candles on every shelf and table. And you get along quite nicely. You'd even go as far to say over the six months of living in his townhouse that you've become friends.

Doing things friends do such as order take-out food together, watch movies on the couch, paint each others nails, share juicy details about your love lives (or lack thereof). Harry is a very fun guy to be around and if you're being honest with yourself, you'd say you've developed a slight crush on him. I mean how could you not? He has nearly all the characteristics of what every woman's ideal man would have. Physical characteristics and things through the actions he does.

Now even though you've became great friends over the six months of living here, there is still stuff you try to keep private. For instance, your periods. Harry's not dumb and obviously knows you get a period. Mainly from seeing your sanitary products under the bathroom sink or in the bin by the toilet. You don't try to keep your periods a secret, just private.

And though Harry knows you get periods, as do most females, he has yet to see the bad side of your periods. The periods that make you sob on the bathroom floor from the amount of pain your cramps are causing. The periods that make you nausous and throw up. Luckily those periods aren't a monthly thing but they do happen a few times a year for whatever reason and it sucks.

--------------------------

Late last night as you and Harry were watching a movie on his sofa, you began to feel crampy in your lower stomach. You asked if he could pause the film while you went to the bathroom down the hall and he agreed. And that's when you realized your period had came and you'd leaked. It's not a bad leak but it's enough for you to need to change your underwear and your shorts. Which the shorts barely had any blood on them but still called for a fresh pair.

Once you got yourself situated, you returned to the living room where the first thing Harry commented on is your changed clothes. "Did you change your shorts or somethin'?"

Quickly, you answered, "Yeah, my period started and I kinda leaked. Okay, you can press play on the movie."

Harry nodded sympathetically but followed your orders. He would have said something else to try and comfort you but knew you prefered to keep your periods more private. He doesn't understand why though. All women get periods. It's not something you should be ashamed of and he wished you'd understand that.

Now it's four in the morning and you're woken up to what feels like the worst period cramps of your whole life. Fuck, you scream in your head, it's gonna be one of those months. The longer you lay in bed the more nausous you began to feel from how painful your cramps are and that leads to you stumbling out of bed and rushing to the bathroom down the hall.

After what felt like an eternity, you made it to the bathroom and literally crawled on the floor over to the toilet. Now that you're in the bathroom you feel less nauseous but the pain is still in full force. That's when the tears start flowing. With your back against the wall and your knees up to your chest, sobs roll out your body as you fight against the waves of your uterus contracting to release its lining.

Harry is a heavy sleeper and usually don't wake up unless someone outwardly calls his name or pushes him awake. What wakes him up right now though is a dry mouth and a craving for a glass of water. So he gets out of bed and heads to the kitchen. But before he can even make it to the kitchen, he hears what sounds like crying coming from the hall bathroom.

Rushing over to the bathroom door, the sight before him breaks his heart. You didn't have the strength to shut the door so from the hall, Harry sees you sobbing in front of the toilet, back against the wall, and a hand clutching your stomach. "Oh, Y/n," he steps inside, "what's the matter?"

You slowly lift your head and the first thought in your mind was you didn't want him to see you like this. This was too embarrassing and you were too vulnerable at the moment. "Harry, go. Don't look at me."

Taken back by your words, Harry retorts in concern, "Not until you tell me what's wrong. Are you sick? Why're cryin'?"

Realising it's no use to deny your housemates help in your condition, you answer through the pain and tears, "My.....my cramps are SO bad. It hurts so much, H...Harry. *sob* It's making me feel so sick."

Harry frowns sympathetically and kneels down beside you in just his boxer briefs, which is his usual sleep attire. He would have covered up a bit more if he'd known this is what he was going to be walking into on his trip for a glass of water. As soon as he kneels down, you get the real urge to puke.

You push yourself off the wall and hang your head over the toilet. A harsh dry heave leaves your mouth that makes him cringe but nothing more, yet. Harry quickly scoots behind you and collects your hair with one hand and runs his other hand over your back. He doesn't know if you want to be touched right now but knows that when he's getting sick he finds that if someone rubs on his back it makes him feel a little better.

"Shhh," Harry whispers gently, "it's okay. You're okay. I've got you." He patiently waits until your feel better or actually get sick. After a few more jarring dry heaves, you end up throwing up in the toilet. And though the act feels like hell and is gross, you hope it will also relive the sickness your belly feels due to your period cramps.

You slowly lift your head up, taking deep breaths, and start crying again. This time not from the pain but from embarrassment. Harry's quick to ask, "Hey, what is it, Y/n? The cramps again?"

A little more coherently then the last time you spoke, you answer, "No. Just embarrassed. I threw up in front of you." That has Harry throwing his head back with a laugh.

"Y/n, I don't give a single fuck about you throwing up in front of me. Everyone gets sick from time to time. Just want to make sure you're alright. I hate that your period cramps are causin' you so much pain."

While subconsciously rubbing circles in your lower tummy, you ask desperately in a near whispered voice, "H, can you please go get me some pain medicine. It's in my bedside table drawer in my bedroom. Once I have that I think I'll feel better. At least for a couple of hours."

"Of course." Harry agrees and gets up off the bathroom floor to head to your bedroom. Once inside, he walks straight to your bedside table and opens the drawer to find your bottle of pain medication. While rummaging through to find the bottle, Harry tries to ignore the assortment of sex toys you have in there; bullet vibrator, dildo, clit sucker. Shit, this is the wrong time for him to get all hot and flustered at the thought of you using those under his roof.

He finally finds the bottle of pills and heads back to the bathroom where you still are. Within the time it took him to grab your medicine, you've stood up off the floor, flushed the toilet of course, and now sit on a closed toilet seat. Harry opens the bottle and asks, "How many? One or Two or....?"

"Two please." Harry hands you two tablets and grabs a paper cup used for rinsing your mouths out by the sink and fills it up with tap water. You carefully grab the small cup from his hands and take the pills with urgency, just wanting to be out of pain as soon as possible.

Once that's over with, Harry annonces, "Well, I'll let you get cleaned up in here and I'll be out there waiting for you."

"Okay, thank you." you respond gratefully. Harry really is the best housemate you could have asked for. While he's gone, you change out your tampon and brush the taste of vomit from your mouth. Then you exit the hall bathroom, ready to try and get a few more hours of sleep.

As you step inside your bedroom, you're taken back. Harry has managed to change your sheets and duvet, claiming a fresh pair will help you relax and hopefully sleep better. He's also set an actual glass of water on your nightstand, as well as plugged in his heating pad for you to use. "Harry....... what's all this?"

Nervously, because he doesn't know if this is all too much to do to someone who is just his housemate and friend, Harry replies, "Um, just wanted to make sure you come back to a comfy room. Hopefully you'll get a few more hours of sleep. And if you get thirsty or need to take more medicine, there's a glass of water there. Then my old heating pad that you can use across your tummy to also help with your cramps. Hope it's not too much."

You turn around with a small smile on your face and reach out to hug him. He's startled at first but soon relaxes and hugs you back. You hug for a minute before you break away first and mutter your appreciation. "No, this is great, Harry. Not too much at all. Thank you for your kindness tonight. And thank you for putting up with me in the bathroom. I know that wasn't a pretty sight. So yeah, just, thank you so much."

Looking down at you, Harry gets the urge to kiss you, but instead, says, "Y/n, it's no big deal, really. I would have helped anyone in that situation. Just want you to feel better s'all. Now get back into bed and around ten I'll wake up and make us a brunch. Sound good?"

"Yeah, sounds perfect." You crawl back into your bed that now has fresh sheets and maneuver the heating pad over your tummy. The pain medicine has begun to work but your uterus is still quite achy. As Harry turns around and heads out your door, you yell out, "Night." even though it's five in the morning by now.

"Night, Y/n." Harry speaks as well before slipping back into his bed across the hall. Now laying in your separate beds, all you can think about is how much you would have loved if Harry was in your bed cuddling you. And all Harry can think about is how much he wishes you were in his bed, so he could cuddle you. Maybe one day that day will come. But for now, you're just silly housemates that's turned into friends.

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(no more tags are allowed because i've hit my number limit. sorry : ( )

tag list: @one-sweet-gubler // @harryscherrysugar // @hsfanficsrecss // @lollypopsx // @harrycanyonmoonn // @itfeelslikemytherapisthatesme // @damnasstyles // @mrsstylesharry // @softmullet // @meetmyblondemuffins // @thegirlnextdoorssister // @stanleystyles // @haarrrys // @michellekstyles // @skyangel57 // @the-gardener-31 // @lhharrylilpumpkin // @yousunshine-youtemptress // @clairestylessss // @kissmyaxe140 // @goldenmelonsugar-hi // @kaitieskidmore97 // @florencepughily // @alienorknight //@dancearoundthelivingroom // @swiftmendeshoran

// @luv-flor7777 // @alohastyles-x // @tenaciousperfectionunknown // @sleutherclaw // @siredtohybrid // @whoscamila // @a-strange-familiar // @golden-elodie // @mrspeacem1nusone // @goldenkhae // @lntwithhrry // @shadowygladiatorlight // @manifestrry //@mendesblurb // @sunshinemoonsposts // @depersonalizationsucks // @academiaghost // @zendayassimp // @reveriehs // @vsnnstuff // @dancinsunflowerkiwi // @quinnsgrapejuice // @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite // @justlemmeholdyou // @hsonlyangelxo // @luvonstyles // @howdey

______________

My Masterlist Masterpost

Arguments and Confessions {part 2.} (housemate!harry series)

#harry styles #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fic rec #housemate!harry #housematerry #friend!harry #friendrry #soft!harry #softrry #harry styles x reader #harry styles period comfort #period comfort #harry styles sick fic #sick fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #one shot #blurb

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rustytrident · 1 year

Text

mc's ultimate guide to visiting the devildom!!

a comprehensive guide to being an exchange student to the devildom by yours truly, mc.

ch: diavolo, barbatos, lucifer, mammon, leviathan, satan, asmodeus, beelzebub, belphegor

cw: none (relationships between the characters are meant to be platonic, though i could make a nsfw version of this)

a/n: this is a long ass post ‼️‼️ i tried to be as objective as possible but idk if any biases came through. i also literally thought of this while i was cleaning my bathroom so the idea may be shitty,,, get it?? cause i was,,, cleaning my bathroom,,,, , , the idea may be shitty,,,,,, ,,,, okay so the punchline is that since i was cle-

lifestyle:

wear gloves. for everything

trust your sense of smell. if something smells too good or too bad, get the fuck away from it

write your name on the hem of your clothes

always check if something can be consumed by humans. trust me, you'd rather go hungry for a little longer than grow a limb from your stomach

don't look people in the eye when walking past them. stare straight ahead, shoulders square

learn who you can lie to and who you can't. trust your gut with that, though most demons have tells you'll need to learn

keep track of your health and request check ups from human doctors

generally, don't be afraid to ask for anything. you deserve nice experiences, as well as, ,,, yknow,,,,, checkups

take pictures of everything

don't touch books unless a trusted demon tells you it's okay

don't lose touch with your culture. implement it everywhere, from your room to your food to your music. teach your housemates all you know about it

remember you are surrounded by demons. don't tease them, don't tempt them (unless you have a pact or a pretty decent relationship with them)

the royal family:

the devildom is currently under monarchy. you will only interact with the prince, diavolo, and his butler, barbatos.

diavolo knows. he always has, he always will. don't lie to him

don't be too friendly with him for the first four months

absolutely be friendly with him after those four initial months

between us, he needs friends. and beings who don't treat him like he's fragile.

he likes games of any kind. use that to your advantage

barbatos seems scary, and he is. but you can trust him

do go over for tea if he invites you. he has an affinity for cooking and baking (mostly baking – teach him any cool recipes you may know!), and likes to serve whatever he makes with a warm cup of tea

do not, under any circumstances, even so much as mention anything about rats to him. for interworld peace

diavolo will always come first for him. don't test or question their bond, our brains are probably incapable of perceiving its magnitude

the king is just. there. but like, not even there. currently asleep

the queen is dead (unfortunately, this phrase is not seen as something positive in the devildom. don't ever say it)

the brothers:

probably the ones you'll be living with. then again, maybe not. part of the student council, and diavolo's closest companions (you'll be seeing a hearing a lot from them).

lucifer is... nice. once you get to know him. give him some time

he's very sad, very overworked. kinda like a wet cat with a family to feed. stroke his ego about twice a week and you'll be good

don't put up with what he says if it makes you uncomfortable, and don't be afraid to speak up. if you need backup, go to satan and/or belphegor

he loves music. if you want to get to know him better, ask him if he would like to talk to you about his favourite songs (they're most likely from cursed records, so listening to them is not an option)

mammon will most likely steal from you. again, put your name on everything, take pictures of everything.

the friendliest of all of them, along with beelzebub, and one of the most loyal ones

loud and a tsundere. don't ask how that works. also, very funny (laugh at his jokes even if you don't like them)

he doesn't know what boundaries are. set yours early and don't follow along with his schemes if you don't like them. he's got puppy eyes, don't fall for them

leviathan is an introvert, and antisocial. don't pressure him to talk to you.

if you're dead set in getting closer to him, do it through asking what game he's playing, or what anime he's watching. his interests are the only way he will open up

he will talk a lot if he likes the subject. he also knows every meme out there, so you can be free to say anything

he's very insecure, and will sometimes guilt trip you without realising. stay firm in your beliefs and be honest with him (do not anger him unless you know how to swim)

satan being the avatar of wrath shouldn't scare you. just don't mention anything good about lucifer during the first few months of you being there, and you'll be good

he likes books, and has learnt to be very open with his affections through them. if he likes you, you will know

again, he likes books. want him to like you? ask for recommendations, plots, ideas, poems. he's got you covered

he also loves cats. like, a lot. so if you're not the biggest reader it's time to be the biggest petter

asmodeus is touchy, but he never crosses any boundaries once they're clear to him. if you don't like physical touch, make it clear to him

the first being you should go to if you want to have any sort of physical relationship with someone there. it could be awkward to just... ask, but he's not held back by any prejudice, and would love to help

pay attention to him when he speaks. he may seem like too much sometimes, but he will be even more if you don't look him in the eye and nod (at least).

tell him he's beautiful, cause he is. and also cause who would call aphrodite themselves ugly like??

beelzebub is chill, for the most part. just don't disrespect his family or eat his food.

he's the number one demon to go to when you're having issues and want to vent it out. doubles as someone you could hug after and get a pat on the head from, but only if he's comfortable.

always have a snack in your pocket for him, you'll never regret it (but don't make it a regular thing)

he will eat anything. that is both a warning and a piece of advice.

belphegor can have a sharp tongue, so if you're sensitive it's better to either be vocal about not liking certain things he says or not be around him all together

very knowledgeable about the human world, probably the most out of all the brothers. go to him if you feel homesick

also a scholar. no he won't do your homework for you. yes he will pass every class even though he's asleep in all of them. just don't pick him as your study buddy.

doesn't hide his feelings well – you can tell what he's thinking about just by looking at him

enjoy your stay, little sheep~

#obey me #obey me shall we date #lucifer obey me #mammon obey me #obey me leviathan #satan obey me #obey me asmodeus #beelzebub obey me #belphegor obey me #diavolo obey me #obey me barbatos #sing me a song // the song of our glory

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months

Text

The Lost 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of loss, grieving, death, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: nomad!Steve Rogers

Summary: You move into a shared flat and encounter a mysterious man.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You don’t eat breakfast, not that you ever really do. You buy enough food to have dinner when you get home and that’s about it. As the clock ticks on, stretched longer by a sleepless night, you count down to the inevitable. You have to leave that room eventually.

You dress in the convenience store button up, an ugly shade of mustard and pin your nametag on. Not wanting to risk running into your housemates, you talk yourself down to quickly brushing your teeth and tidying up. You won’t shower.

You listen through the door but hear nothing. Not like the night before when you heard everything. When you heard too much.

You bring your little canvas pouch of toiletries and lock your door behind you, just in case. You look left then right, heading down towards the bathroom. You stop as you find the door closed. Shoot. You hesitate, struggling to make up your mind. You should just go back and wait in your room.

Too late. The door opens and you jump in your shoes. You stumble back into the wall, unable to hide your fright. S emerges, his blond hair slightly damp as he combs it back with his fingers. The scent of his soap wafts out with him, warm bergamot cutting through the dingy air of the aged house.

“Sorry,” he leaves the door open behind him as he steps out, “didn’t mean to scare ya.”

You nod and wave him off, mouthing ‘it’s fine’ but unable to summon your voice.

“It’s all yours. Hope you weren’t waiting too long,” he hugs tighter the folded towel in his arm, curled around a leather zip up bag.

You give an ‘mhm’ but his timbre just reminds you of the threats that slipped beneath your door the night before. In your head, the unseen menace was a slimy little ghoul, waiting to creep up on you. You look over your shoulder as S passes.

“He hasn’t bothered you again, has he?” He stops and turns back to you.

You shake your head.

“Good,” his chest rises as he glances towards the far end of the hallway, “Guy’s a freak. On parole…” he faces you again, “not to scare you but you should know.”

You lower your eyes and squeeze your pouch tight. You bite your lip and turn to the bathroom. As you approach the door, he shifts on his feet, the floorboards creaking beneath his weight. You stop but can’t bring yourself to look at him.

“Thank you,” you squeak.

He doesn’t answer right away. You linger in the silence before he musters his response, “no problem. Girl like you, can never be too safe.”

You don’t have a chance to reply. His door opens and shuts and you peek over to find him gone. You keep your hand on the door handle as his words cling in your mind. A girl like you…

Is it so obvious that you're alone? Vulnerable? Afraid?

If it is, maybe it’s better that you have someone like him watching over you.

🚪

You arrive for your shift and take over after balancing the till. It’s quiet and you don’t get much more than the usual pop-ins. An old woman takes up close to twenty minutes playing the scratch cards and a group of teens come in to buy energy drinks and ten cent candies. It makes you wish you only worried about wasting your money on unwinnable jackpots and unhealthy snacks.

You spend your downtime doing the crossword in the newspaper Aziz left behind. The pencil lead dulls with each letter you press into the newsprint. The door chimes again and you peek up as a greasy haired man looks around. His eyes scan the store and finally land on you.

You stand up straight and greet him in your small way. Your voice crackles beneath the drone of radio DJs as they discuss their weekend follies. The man nods and diverts to the magazine rack. You tap the pencil and go back to the puzzle, glancing up periodically as he browses the shelf.

When at last he retreats from his perusal, he approaches and lays down one of the magazines shrouded in black film. You try not to show your discomfort as you flip it over to scan the bar code, overly aware of its more adult contents. He doesn’t show an shame as he leans on the counter and breathes loudly through his nose.

“They all got fake tits these days,” he snivels, “I remember my dad’s rags they used to have the natural girls.”

You blanch and hit total, reading out the amount owing. He snickers and reaches into his pants’ pocket, feeling around a bit too long before dragging his hand out. He chuckles and reaches into his jacket instead, taking out his wallet. Ew.

The door chirps, signalling another customer. You don’t look over. The man across from you searches his wallet slowly, fluttering his fingers over the bills inside. His tongue flicks out like a lizard’s.

“Is cash or credit easier, sweetie?”

The pet name sends a chill through you as his tone tickles your memory. That’s the voice you heard last night. That sickly, simpering slither. You can’t help but take a step back, even with the shield of plexiglass between you.

The other customer appears behind the man and clears his throat, “pay and get out.”

You look past the greasy-haired man as S looms behind him. His fist closes and opens, as if he’s holding himself back. You gulp as the other man rolls his eyes.

“Mind your business, meathead,” he deliberately counts out the bills. “It’s the handsome ones that are mean…” he tuts, “nice guys like me, well, we’re hard to find.”

“She doesn’t care. She’s working,” S snarls.

“You don’t own the store, guy,” the other retorts, “you don’t scare me.”

“I don’t gotta scare you,” S steps closer.

The other man bares his teeth but shrinks, just a little. He throws down the money and shoves it through the slot. You gather it up. It feels almost as slimy as he looks. You reach your hand under with his change and he grabs your hand, closing it around the coins.

“You keep that, sweetie,” he squeezes, “pretty girl like you earned it.”

“Don’t touch her,” S grabs him from behind, wrenching him away. The suddenness has your front hitting the counter before the strange man lets you go. “Take your stuff,” S snatches up the magazine as he holds the man by his scruff, “and go.”

He throws him against the door before whipping the magazine at him. You watch helplessly. The smaller man, much smaller than S, catches the porn rag and tries to look fearsome against his accoster. It’s a pathetic attempt. He seems to realise as he slouches down and tucks tail, pushing out into the street with a grumble.

S shakes his head and turns back, marching to the counter. He puts his single protein shake on the other side of the glass. You swallow and put the change down shakily.

“Those are two for four, sir,” you say, “if you’re interested.”

He nods thoughtfully, his throat bobbing. “Thanks, uh, yeah, maybe I’ll grab another.”

He draws away and walks down the center aisle. He stands before the cooler, pulling open the door, before swiftly spinning on his heel and coming back. He places a strawberry shake next to the vanilla one. You scan both and the till applies the discount.

“Sorry, er, to cause a scene. I just… he shouldn’t be pestering you. Especially at work.”

“N-no, it’s… it’s fine. It’s… nice,” you stammer out as you accept his five dollar bill. “You don’t have to… do that.”

“It's not about 'have to',” he shrugs as you count out his change. He takes it, then the vanilla shake. He doesn’t touch the other one.

“Sir,” you point to the strawberry.

“You seem like the strawberry type,” he steps back on his heel, “it’s for you.”

“I… I can’t–”

“You didn’t eat breakfast. You should,” he insists.

“Sir, really–”

“I’ll leave it here,” he says, “in case you change your mind.” He nudges it closer to the glass, “make sure you give it a good shake. The flavour settles at the bottom.”

He turns away before you can argue. Again, he ends the conversation with his departure. As generous as he is, you get the idea he’s not into negotiating.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #nomad!steve #drabble #the last #marvel #mcu #avengers #captain america #series

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turbulentscrawl · 4 months

Note

I love ur Frederick Headcanons!! Can we please get some sfw and nsfw hcs for him??

Happy holidays ;)

SFW

-Frederick is one of those partners who isn’t around a lot. He’s often wholly consumed by music and spends long hours sat at the piano. He keeps a private music room and is strict about people coming in when he’s working. He needs focus. He struggles with prioritizing anything over his music, especially when he’s obsessed with perfecting a particular song. This will a life-long struggle for Frederick, but it is something he’s willing to make an effort towards correcting when he’s in love.

-Refer to his general headcanons post for specifics about his disorders; he requires a lot of grace and accommodation in a relationship. It’s almost certain that you’ll be putting more emotional labor into the relationship because Frederick has to put so much into just regulating himself. He’s easily overwhelmed, and has an avoidant attachment style due to his communication skills breaking down when he’s frantic enough. The best advice I can give is to establish a plan of action with Frederick that you can use on his worst days to help him.

-He’s not a “fun” or “spontaneous” socialite. He’s tired of changing who he is for social settings, of pushing his looks and playing sweet to gain favor. He still has to sometimes…which is why he doesn’t like when his partner suggests activities that would also require it. He doesn’t even want to have get-togethers with your friends, though he is willing to meet them after you’ve been together for a while. He’s not keen on spending a lot of time with them, mind you, mostly because it reminds him that he doesn’t have anyone in his side of things to introduce you to.

-In line with the above, with the exception of performances and networking, Frederick is a homebodied introvert. His date night ideas are often set on your property. A picnic in your garden, maybe? Stargazing? When he has the funds, he likes to hire a private chef to come prepare a nice dinner for you both. He’ll occasionally invite you into his music room to play for you, as well. Any song you’d like! Even if he doesn’t like it. You’re always the first to hear his new songs, and he often dedicates new ones to you.

-Frederick isn’t a bad housemate to have, which is fortunate since he’s there so much. Because he was disowned by his family, he’s had to develop some skills people of his birth typically don’t. He helps with the chores, cleans, and is a fair cook. He still occasionally needs help with little things, but those are few and far between. He yearns to go back to the days of not having to do these things himself.

-Frederick likes when you give him the option of being the dominant partner. That is, he likes when you look to him for decision-making. He does his best to be fair and consider both your opinions, if they differ, and he feels that you deferring to him like that means you have faith in his judgement. This goes for little things too, like just asking him to order for you when you’re out for dinner.

NSFW

-Some of you may hate me for this…but I look at this man and think “foot fetish.” He’s certainly not a pervert about it, but you’ll notice over time that he compliments your shoes a lot (especially heels) and admires any pedicures you show off just a little too intensely. You’re in luck if you like a good foot massage because that’s a go-to foreplay for him. He’s not going to complain about some shapely legs, either.

-Frederick has a very slight oral fixation, too. He’s down for a bit food play as long as it’s not something too difficult to clean up, and he enjoys giving oral. He has a habit of humming songs while going down on his partner; he says it helps him keep a steady rhythm, but honestly who cares because the vibrations from that feel amazing.

-Aside from those, Frederick is pretty vanilla. Due partially to the amount of stress his mental illness causes, he’s not in the mood for sex as often as others. When he is in the mood, he’s more of a “make love” kinda guy. He likes to have romance, to set the mood. Foreplay tends to be several hours long with plenty of sweet flirting, gentle touches, and any other means of building anticipation. He’s not rough in the bedroom at all, and prefers simple, face-to-face positions like missionary.

-He’s always going to have some underlying fears of being used for his looks, so he prefers to be in charge in the bedroom. If you want him to submit to you, he can be convinced, but he needs a lot of reassurance as aftercare or else he’ll silently grow paranoid. (This is also why he’s such a romantic in the bedroom. He needs obvious reminders that love is involved in this act and not just lust.)

-Frederick loses track of time a lot and is used to isolating, but spending a longer period away from him is a sure-fire way to make him desperate for you. You’re going to be gone for a month to visit family? Well, no worries, he’ll be fine…until the last three days. Then, like a switch is flipped, he’s a man starved to the brink of death for his love.

#idv x reader #identity v x reader #frederick kreiburg x reader #idv composer #spicy content #turbulentscrawl

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bts-roses · 3 months

Text

Hopelessly Romantic

summary - You used to say that a little romanticising never hurt anyone, turns out you were wrong. So wrong. (Unless...?)

pairing - Hoseok x reader

genre - university!au, fluff, a little angst, crushing & pining <3

word count - 7.4k

warnings - swearing :o, y/n goes through serious introspection, y/n goes through it

You always loved romance and love. You loved when your friend finally revealed his feelings to his crush after endless (and progressively annoying) pining for each other. You love when you see your regulars have their weekly Sunday date night at the restaurant you work at (you also love their tips). You love when couples share an umbrella when walking in the rain. Heck, you even love the socks with the tiny magnetic arms that when you stand next to someone with the same socks they hold hands! Like! Who cares if they are just inanimate socks? (They are holding hands!) You just love love!

Okay, so your friends/housemates might make fun of you for it. They might roll their eyes when you fawn over some minor interaction between two strangers in the street or when you dote on something slightly romantic that your professor said about his wife. Some of your friends may say you are overoptimistic. Or as Yoongi would call it: unrealistic.

But, you would argue that a little romanticising never hurt anyone! Can it be annoying sometimes? Yes! Do your friends have to mentally prepare themselves before confiding in you about anything to do with their romantic life? 100%! Can your romanticisation border on delusional? I mean, maybe sometimes? Or as Yoongi would say: all the time.

It's a little running joke in your friendship group that little Y/n is a little hopeless romantic who would even romanticise two street rats eating rotting food in a dumpster together (but also that is kind of cute, like they live in awful conditions but they still stay together?!).

So maybe that's why you keep your crush on a certain man in your class a secret. Or as you would say (then giggle and hide your face into your pillow), your secret.

You would admit that the sole reason that gets you out of bed for your Monday 9am lecture is the fact you can spend an hour glancing at the most perfect side profile to ever bless planet earth (oh, and sometimes the cute stories your professor reveals about his wife).

After 5 months of this class, you have perfected the routine to get the most out of this one hour experience. First, you (struggle to) get up at 7am. Then, do all your business and get clean. Then, you agonisingly choose your best outfit that is both (a) comfortable for an annoyingly early lecture and (b) also cute so that when he looks over to you, he thinks woah this hot babe knocks it out the park every time with their insanely cool yet effortless look like woah I need to propose or whatever. Then, you (maybe too excitedly) stroll to your lecture and get there with (and this is very important) exactly 4 minutes before the lecture begins. This is because exactly 5 minutes before the lecture begins, a certain someone (cue you giggling and hiding your face) finds a seat in the lecture hall. And that means you can choose the optimal seating position to be able to have sneaky glances at the most beautiful face you have ever laid your eyes upon (in a not creepy way). The said optimal seating position is around 1 or 2 rows behind and a good ten seats on either side of him. Both effective and not suspicious at all.

If they knew, your friends would call you crazy. Or as Yoongi would say: this would actually be great evidentiary support for a restraining order. But you swear if they have ever seen this man, they would be doing the exact same thing. You would also argue that you are not the only one who does this! Two weeks ago you noticed that a girl, who sat 5 rows in front of you (so 3 rows in front of him), spent most of the lecture staring at the man and it was very obvious. Clearly, someone needs to get an optimal seating position! And just a month ago, after the man answered one of the professor's questions, a group of people let out a very audible tee-hee at how unbelievably attractive his face was.

And, my God, what a face.

It's otherworldly and beautiful. And that side profile? His perfect nose? His heart-shaped lips? His amazing jawline? His somehow always sparkly eyes? And his kissable cheekbones that protrude a bit more when he bursts out into the most bright and breath-taking smile? Stunning.

It's even more stunning when it's directed at you. Tee-hee.

Plot twist! You aren't one to brag (you are going to fully brag). But there have been a few instances where your glances are requited.

Now it's time to replay them in excruciating detail!

The first time it happened, you were mid-sentence in typing some notes on the lecture slides when you habitually glanced over to Mr. Beautiful man. But when you look up, you find yourself already caught in the depths of his gaze. You nearly choked on the air at the realisation that this man was looking at you with his sparkling eyes that seemed to hold a playful glint within them and a soft smile tugged at the corner of his lips. For a heartbeat, time seemed to still as you held his gaze, and in that fleeting moment, you swear you felt a connection, a spark that made you bashfully look back to the lecture slides.

Another time this happened was when your professor was talking about the story of how he wooed his wife (every time he saw her, he pretended to trip over something so she would always remember him). You couldn't help but to accidentally let out a laugh louder than the rest of the class. But before you could cringe at yourself for the way your chuckle echoed around the room, you found yourself locking eyes with him, whose smile widened as your eyes met. You felt a warmth spread through you, as if his smile was meant for only you, and you couldn't help but smile back as he turned his head back around to the professor.

Not only that, but (not bragging at all) you have spoken to him a good two times.

Plot twist again!

He actually definitely knows who you are!

It's time to recount these events in even more excruciating detail!

The first time he spoke to you was in the second week of the semester and it was also the first time you ever noticed him. As everyone stood up to pack their bags, you noticed that the person in front of you had left his water bottle behind on his desk. Noting the back of the man already half-way down the stairs, you grab the metal bottle and try to dash out of the lecture hall, scanning the corridor for any sign of him. Finally spotting him nearly walking out of the building, you hurried to catch up to him. As he opened the door, you shouted an 'excuse me' to the man.

As if it was in slow motion, he turned around and you don't know if you were hallucinating, but you swear you were nearly swept off your feet (it may have been the strong wind that the opening door let in). That was the first time you were graced with the most beautiful face you have ever seen, as he looked at you surprised and confused with his soft-looking hair flowing with the breeze.

You stutter at the sight of him, briefly forgetting why you even chased after him in the first place.

"O-oh, you forgot your bottle." You bashfully state, lifting the bottle towards him.

You look up at him (sigh he's tall) and you actually feel your heart stop when his lips curve into the most heart warming smile.

"Wow, thanks a lot", he gratefully says, taking back his bottle, "I'm Hoseok, by the way."

Hoseok.

You mirror his smile and try to not turn red as you reply "Y/n."

"Nice to meet you! Thanks again." He coolly says before continuing on his way.

He leaves you windswept and heart-stricken in the middle of the doorway.

(You quickly break out of it when annoyed students try to squeeze and push past you taking up the whole exit).

The second time you converse with the man was 3 months after. And after a few exchanged glances, you're confident in saying that your attraction to this man has exponentially grown to unfathomable amounts.

You can safely say that you think you have a serious crush on this man.

This man being Hoseok. Because that's his name and he told you himself (tee-hee).

When you arrive at the lecture hall, you are greeted with an unfamiliar sight: people waiting outside of the room. When you walk up, you see the familiar faces you regularly see standing around and you deduce that the room must be locked (sometimes security forgets to unlock the lecture halls in the morning). As you lean against the wall and look down at your phone, you are surprised by the sudden voice next to you.

"This feels so weird standing around."

You look up and unconsciously let a smitten smile smother your face at Hoseok (tee-hee <3) next to you. You let yourself gaze at his breath-taking face for a moment. You feel your heart start racing again, as you stumble over what words to say.

"Yeah definitely, I'm so used to just sitting down before the professor gets here."

He glances at you, surprised you replied. In that moment you realise: he was talking to himself. That's awkward.

"No, yeah, I like to prep myself before a 9am lecture. I'm just wondering, who schedules 9am lectures on a Monday?" He light-heartedly comments, offering you one of his sweet smiles.

"You and me both, Hoseok. I'm wondering the same thing", you shyly respond, your smitten smile slightly burning your cheeks. Omg this is the longest conversation you have had with him!

You watch as his brows furrowed in confusion and his perfectly shaped head tilt to the side a bit. He lets out a bashful smile.

"Sorry, have we met before?" He lets out an embarrassed laugh and continues when you mirror his confusion, "You know my name?"

Oh...

You feel your heart sink a bit (a lot) and your lips move into a self-conscious smile. He doesn't remember you.

"Oh... Yeah we met briefly before." You look down, trying to cover your disappointment, "It was like at the beginning of the year so..."

You're surprised you can hear the sounds of people shuffling to move into the now unlocked lecture hall over the volume of how embarrassing this situation was. You both slowly trail behind the rest of the class into the room.

"Right, sorry, sometimes my memory is not the best!" Hoseok quickly reassures you, his tone devoid of any awkwardness, "What was your name again?"

It should be embarrassing at how quickly your mood elevated under his interest in knowing your name.

"I'm Y/n", you beam.

"Y/n", Hoseok says, more to himself, "I promise I won't forget next time".

He gives you another smile and a playful poke to your cheek, which makes you feel like the only one in the room, as he strides up to claim an empty seat. You feel yourself float up to your OSP (optimal seating position), unable to stop smiling from the brief exchange.

"I promise I won't forget next time"

Tee-hee, you have promises. And he touched your cheek! Tee-hee.

You spent the whole lecture divulging in the potential possibility that your crush might not be one-sided.

Tee-hee.

So here you are, five months deep in being the strongest trooper in your secret infatuation with this stunning man. You can’t help but give yourself a mental pat on the back for successfully keeping your mouth shut about it.

The pat on the back becomes even more vigorous when you manage to maintain your composure every time you spot him around campus, which has strangely been frequently lately. Surprisingly, this increase in sightings had nothing to do with you and everything to do with Yoongi.

You’ve been on high alert around Yoongi ever since he casually mentioned that he had a crush on someone in his classes. However, knowing you and your nature, he refused to divulge any details, nevermind the identity of the crush. It stung a little (okay, maybe more than a little) when he brushed you off, but you totally get it. After all, out of everyone, Yoongi was never the one to entertain your romanticising shit and especially not your meddling ways. Yet, there were instances where you could work out the object of Yoongi’s affections:

When Yoongi, out of nowhere, wanted to start sitting outside for lunch, near a particular group of friends (even though he hates sitting too long in the sun).

When Yoongi insisted you accompany him to watch the musical theatre society's dance practice (even though he was the conductor and didn’t really need to be there).

When Yoongi dragged you along to the dance society's performances, under the guise of "oh, I like the music" (not that you're complaining because Hoseok is also a part of that society tee-hee).

The common factor?: Jimin.

You couldn't blame Yoongi: Jimin was undeniably a sight to behold. And he is so lovely! One time your bag got stuck in the library’s revolving doors and you spent a good 5 minutes panickedly running in circles before Jimin stopped the whole crowd to come rescue you <3 (you never really talk about it because the situation actually made you want to curl up and never see the sun again). And every time Yoongi tries (emphasis on tries) to casually talk about Jimin, a cute little blush paints your friend's face, which makes you <3. And every time you see Jimin's smile it makes you, and the rest of the population just <3. And every time Yoongi sees Jimin from afar, you swear you can see the hearts jump out of his eyes <3.

The man wasn’t exactly subtle.

You also should thank Yoongi (and the gods) as Jimin is friends with Hoseok, meaning every lunch you could discreetly sneak glances at him, his perfect smile, his contagious laugh, the way his whole body would light up as he animatedly recounted a funny story to his friends and-

Anyways, since you were constantly looking that way, you, being the ever-vigilant detective, also noticed that someone else was also sneaking peeks at someone. That someone sneaking peeks being Jimin and the someone receiving said glances being Yoongi. Hee-hee. Jimin totally has a crush on Yoongi. And Yoongi totally has a crush on Jimin. They both totally have a crush on each other!

Even though you tried your best to not meddle, you just couldn’t resist. Much to Yoongi’s annoyance, you proceeded to bombard your friend with retellings of every single occurrence that Jimin so much breathed in his way in, of course, excruciating detail. You insisted for your friend to ask him on a date or confess or do anything, but only if he wanted to, of course.

You only seized your pestering when Yoongi finally grumbles a quiet “fine”. You also decided to seize any teasing of the growing excited smile on his face.

And so, it was on the fateful Thursday before Valentine’s Day week (which was just the heart-shaped cherry on top) Yoongi shyly asked Jimin on a date… And he said yes.

Apparently the date went really, really well :) So well that since they had known each other for a while, Jimin thought it only fitting to ask Yoongi if they could be boyfriends :) To which your friend broke out in his signature gummy smile and said yes :) Yoongi got a Valentine’s :) Yoongi, Mr. Stop-being-annoying-with-love-Y/n, was about to be annoying with love :)

The weekend anticipation for Monday was nearly unbearable. Not only did it promise the chance to catch up with Yoongi and extract every detail about the date - how did Jimin pop the question, Yoongi’s response to the question, Jimin’s response to Yoongi’s response to the question, etc. - but there was also the added excitement of Yoongi suggesting that the two friend groups sit together. One friend group including you and one friendship group including Hoseok. Tee-hee.

But when the clock struck 7am, you woke up with an odd feeling.

Something had felt off the previous day too, almost as if the world shifted its axis. Firstly, when your regular couple arrived at the restaurant, only half of them sat down at their usual table. The man sat alone, tears streaming down his face as he ordered his usual sirloin steak, nearly choking up as he had to stop himself from ordering his partner’s usual vegan burger. Or should you say, ex-partner… Turns out they weren’t the happy couple you saw them to be, they were actually going through a divorce. Instead of going home at closing time, you found yourself awkwardly comforting the man (i.e., stiffly patting his shoulder) as he worryingly wailed loudly into the table while you tried to find a way to ethically and morally make him pay the bill (though, he did leave his most generous tip ever, but you guess it's likely because the bill was half its usual price). Your heart couldn’t help to ache as you saw him braving the rain without an umbrella, all by himself.

You would be lying if you said that the couple’s breakup didn’t affect you in any way, you couldn’t shake off the weird feeling it gave you. You swore, every time you served them, they were a couple madly in-love, did you really misread the whole situation?

As you walked through campus on your way to the lecture, you tried to not think about the couple and you tried to distract yourself from the strange feeling, reminding yourself of the excitement of today. Today was the day you could finally talk to Hoseok (cue you giggling and hiding your face). You could finally get to know him beyond what you see in the lectures, beyond the brief mentions about him in passing conversations with Yoongi, beyond his dance performances, beyond your fleeting exchanged glances. You finally will know Hoseok as a friend, or maybe something more (tee-hee).

Just before you start to daydream (or as Yoongi would say: delude) about the potential conversations with Hoseok. You feel yourself still at the shattering sound beneath your feet. When you look down, you feel that odd feeling creep throughout your body; you accidentally crushed a pair of glasses on the ground. You don’t know why you remain staring at the broken lens (you also realise they are one of those expensive Ray Bans - yikes sorry to the owner). After you stood there for what felt like an eternity, it hit you why they look odd: they were rose-tinted glasses.

You just broke a pair of rose-tinted glasses.

Huh.

The distraction caused you to arrive 2 minutes late for the lecture, having to sit on one of the only available seats right at the front of the lecture hall (no OSP today guys). Much to your sadness, this meant you were not able to sneak any glances at the man and his beautiful side profile. :(

Maybe it was the fact you didn’t have Hoseok to distract you or maybe it was the strange feeling that made you really listen to your professor without your usual optimistic bias. But you finally realise how lowkey (highkey) misogynistic your professor was about his wife.

“Now, as an example of positive reinforcement, I can’t help but talk about a perfect one from my own experiences. I’ve talked about my endless efforts to win my lovely wife over, the gestures, the flowers, the compliments. But now that I’ve won her heart, she associates me with all that lovey-dovey stuff so I don't need to do any of that anymore! Like, why bother doing anything extra when she’s already fulfilling her role and doing all my laundry? This type of conditioning gets you an endless supply of clean underwear! Or is that too problematic to say these days? Am I going to get cancelled?” Your professor laughs.

You feel your mouth gape in pure shock (and cringe), as your ears pick up the awkward and fake laughs throughout the lecture hall.

Huh. That wasn’t very romantic.

The professor continues on and leaves you with a sour taste in your mouth. That strange feeling intensifies throughout you for the rest of the hour and carries on until lunch.

As you joined the group of people, you took a seat and offered smiles in response to everyone’s greetings. You noticed Hoseok had not arrived yet, and you tried not to react when you heard Namjoon, one of Jimin’s friends, complaining about his professor holding Hoseok back. From the 15 minutes you spend sitting with them, you deduce that Jimin’s friends are really nice: Namjoon was particularly endearing and Taehyung was charmingly entertaining. If it weren’t for the strange feeling nagging at you, you’d be more talkative, but instead, you could only muster occasional contributions to the conversation.

Feeling a nudge from your friend Molly next to you, you turned to her as she quietly asked if you were okay, worried because of your unusual silence. You quickly offer an excuse about stress from your group presentation and she nods, not entirely convinced. You also feel a brief comforting squeeze from your other friend, Lia, beside you. However, they both know you well enough to know that they shouldn’t press anything further. You meekly look around the table and you notice Yoongi already looking at you, a hint of concern forming on his face. You tried to reassure him with a big smile to indicate you are perfectly fine, but you could tell he wasn’t convinced. Curse your friends and their perceptiveness. But before he could press further, Jimin, being the angel that he is, distracts him with something funny on his phone, and you find yourself zoning out of the conversation.

“Well, I thought the movie was very good!” Taehyung argues.

“Of course you would think that movie was good, Tae,” Namjoon scoffs, “It was right up your hipster alley, a failed attempt at a romance movie disguised by some weird, unconventional filming techniques.”

Your attention snapped back when Taehyung gasped loudly.

“Failed attempt?” Taehyung repeats with disbelief, “I’ll have you know, that movie was the epitome of romance!”

“Tae, the most romantic thing about that movie was that it was caring enough to only put us through 1 hour of it,” Namjoon deadpans.

Chuckling spread around the table, leaving you a bit confused. You don’t even know what movie they’re talking about.

“Don’t talk about romance in front of Y/n guys” Lia teases, “We won’t hear the end of it, especially so close to Valentine’s day.”

Suddenly, all the attention is on you, your friends fondly looking at you, ready for your usual response. Normally, you’d play along and potentially bond with Taehyung over whatever movie this is. But instead, you stutter, unsure on how to respond.

“Well-” You start, before being interrupted.

“Oh my god, hey guys”, you hear from behind you, the voice slightly out of breath.

As everyone greets him back, you feel Lia, who was sitting next to you, shuffling to her left, making space for Hoseok to sit down. Next to you.

Instantly, the strange mood seems to dissipate into thin air. Omg he’s sitting next to you! Being a bit shy, you stay frozen, not turning around to look at the man. You feel yourself start to smile at the feeling of him next to you, and you nearly unconsciously moan at how good this man smells. Have some dignity Y/n, you think to yourself.

“Sorry I’m late, my meeting was supposed to be only 30 minutes but the professor went over an hour,” he laughs out, then looks towards his friend and his boyfriend, “I hope the in-law’s meeting is going well.”

Everyone around the table, including you, laughs, assuring him that it’s going well. You can’t help but let out a dreamy sigh - he’s so hot. Hoseok proceeds to go around to learn the names of the new faces, saying a nice to meet you to Lia, jokingly reintroducing himself to Yoongi (apparently they’re actually friends), and then mentioning to Molly that he is pretty sure they are in the same assignment group for one of his classes. Your face breaks out in a smile with how well he gets on with everyone. He is just so bright and sociable, you can’t help but feel your heart warm at the thought.

Finally, you muster the courage to turn towards him, intending to break the ice with the weird comment your professor said in the morning lecture but Hoseok starts before you.

He starts with the same gut-wrenchingly gorgeous smile,

“And what’s your name?”

Oh…

You feel yourself speechless at the question, colour draining in your face. If this was any other day and if this was anyone else, you would tease saying you’ve met before, joke about him already asking that question, maybe even fake hurt and dramatically ask if you were really that forgettable. But it did hurt, and you don’t feel like you have it in you to embarrass yourself, so instead you introduce yourself again.

For the third time.

“I’m Y/n”, you reply with a tense smile.

“Well it’s really nice to meet you!” He beams.

Throughout the entire lunch, silence envelops you like a suffocating blanket, muffling the chatter around you. All your senses are surrounded by Hoseok, yet he doesn’t even seem to notice you. You watch him interact effortlessly with others, his eyes light up with warmth and his smiles so familiar, you once believed they were reserved solely for you. But now, you realise those looks and smiles are merely part of his default demeanour, unfairly extended to everyone without second thought. The realisation cuts straight through you.

It’s not that he intentionally excludes you; he offers small nods and fleeting smiles of acknowledgements when your eyes meet. He just doesn’t fully register your presence or, better put, is interested in your presence more than he’s interested in anyone else. You don’t know what’s worse. Either way, the pang of insignificance hurts you deep as you sit there feeling like an idiot.

Meanwhile, your friends are engrossed in getting to know everyone else, and for the first time, you don’t bother deciphering the subtle exchanges between Molly and Taehyung, or analyse how well they bounce off each other, jokingly debating about something. Instead, you feel a bit irked by the sight of Jimin and Yoongi being so shyly cute with each other.

And it’s when Lia’s friendly tease prompts Hoseok to playfully poke her cheek, just like he did with you, you quietly stand up, wanting nothing more but to leave. The table suddenly grows quiet, your feigned excuse about seeing your professor being the only thing that is heard. After giving your friends a pointed look that says ‘please don’t follow me’, you pack your uneaten lunch and make a hasty exit, ignoring the worried gazes of your friends.

The truth hits you like a bus - he didn’t even know who you were. He treats everyone with the same warmth and friendliness, all those supposed shared moments weren’t special at all. You just convinced yourself they were, romanticising all those supposed connections to mean something. Did your brain really deluded you into thinking your foolish crush on him was actually requited?

Perhaps Yoongi was right about you. Unrealistic. Delusional. Now that you think about it, probably needs to be served with a restraining order. You didn’t just imagine that Hoseok was interested in you too but you also imagined that he actually knew who you were.

You feel like a fool.

As you fight back tears from spilling from your eyes, you trudge home, neglecting your next lecture. You’ll catch up on it later.

As you quietly slip away, a concerned silence settles over the group. Your friends exchange glances, each wondering if anyone knows what might be troubling you.

“Is she okay?” Namjoon breaks the silence, his brows furrowing with genuine concern as the group’s gaze follows your retreating figure.

“I actually don’t know…” Molly answers, her voice laced with worry, “She was so quiet. She said something earlier about a presentation but I know she doesn’t have anything like that coming up, so…”

“Shit, I should’ve said something earlier”, Yoongi mumbles with a loud sigh, reaching for his phone to send a message in your group chat.

Are you okay? Are you going back to the house? We’ll come meet you - yoongi

“We should go check on her.” Lia suggests, already rising from her seat, with Molly and Yoongi following suit.

Just then, the group’s phones all ping. Yoongi instantly reads the notification

I’m fine! I just have a headache :( - y/n

Don’t you dare move away from that table, Yoongi. You guys better have fun for me! I’ll see you guys at the house! - y/n

With a small scoff, Yoongi is about to ignore your pleas and continue to pack his things but then the phone pings again.

Please don’t come meet me - y/n

As Yoongi reads your last message, he sits down with a dejected sigh, everyone watching him curiously. The other two pull their phones out to read the messages, also sitting back down.

“I think she just wants to be alone.” Yoongi clarifies.

“Are you guys sure?” Jimin cautiously asks, “We don’t mind if you guys have to go.”

The other three men agree with Jimin, their concerns evident. Reluctantly, Yoongi shakes his head and assures the group that they don’t need to leave, mentioning that he’ll talk to you later at the house. Silence descends on the table once more.

“I hope everything’s alright,” Jimin voices, “maybe something happened during her classes?”

“No, she only had that intro to psych lecture this morning and she always mentions how that’s pretty chill,” Molly dismisses, looking down deep in thought.

“Oh, I’m in that class” Hoseok suddenly interjects, drawing everyone’s attention, “I didn’t notice anything unusual.”

“Yeah, I forgot you’re in that class” Yoongi remarks, “I’m surprised you haven’t run into her.”

Hoseok nods silently. Suddenly, realisation dawns on him. He knew you looked familiar - you’ve literally spoken before. He guesses he didn’t remember cause it was a long time ago, and he never sees you in the lecture hall. Perhaps you always sit in the back? Now guilt weighs on him, remembering your face earlier. Your eyes lit up in familiarity and a cute smile grew on your face, until he asked for your name. Then you looked embarrassed, your eyes slightly dimming. He didn’t recognise you. Hoseok falls silent, consumed by his thoughts.

“Well,” Jimin starts, trying to steer the conversation in a more positive direction, “I hope she’s okay! You always talk about Y/n so I can’t wait to get to know her.”

Yoongi smiles warmly at Jimin, appreciating the attempt to lighten the mood.

“Yeah, Yoongi talks about how endearing Y/n is,” Jimin continues, addressing his friends, “I actually met her once before! I think she got stuck in the library doors, and I helped her out. I was so surprised because most people would be really embarrassed but she was so grateful and optimistic. It really threw me off guard. No idea why she would be friends with you, Yoongi”

The conversation shifts and the table bursts out in laughter as Yoongi rolls his eyes playfully.

“No, really, sometimes she’s the complete opposite of you, Yoons,” Lia adds with excitement, “I literally remember when Molly was ordering our drinks and started to argue with one of the guys at the bar, so we were gonna go over and help her. But, Y/n stopped us, insisting that they were clearly just flirting. Then, Yoongi and Y/n started bickering about whether or not they were about to fight or kiss. Then all of a sudden we heard a scream and realised Molly threw her drink on him and they started to fight.”

“I’ll never forget Y/n’s face,” Yoongi heartedly laughs, reminiscing the incident, “I’ve never seen her more mortified.”

Everyone joins in the laughter. Hoseok looks around, noting how just the thought of you brightens your friend’s faces.

“Oh my God, that day got us banned from that place!,” Molly added, “I swear, she can romanticise anything.”

“Sounds like Taehyung with that atrocious ‘romance’ movie”, Namjoon jokes, earning a playful jab from the man.

“That’s it, someone bring Y/n back. I need someone to back me up on this”, Taehyung jokingly whines, eliciting more laughter, “I’ll force her to be my new movie buddy.”

“As long as it’s a romance movie, she won’t need much convincing”, Lia adds.

“With the movies Tae enjoys, we can only pray for her”, Namjoon sarcastically comments, dodging another hit from Taehyung.

“Well, Y/n finds joy and beauty in most things,” Yoongi starts, his eyes softening as he reflects on your unique perspective “I’m jealous of her, she can find love in anything and everything.”

The table falls into momentary silences, Yoongi’s words hanging in the air. Hoseok’s gaze flickers with intrigue as he processes the sentiment. His perception of you subtly shifts when Lia, with a mischievous grin, adds,

"Well, she loves love".

So you have actually decided you hate love.

Upon arriving home, you collapse onto your bed, letting your tears flow freely. You found yourself unable to stop crying. You don’t know if it's from the sheer humbling experience or the sorrow of mourning your imagined relationship with Hoseok. You just couldn't believe that he would do that to you? After everything you’ve imagined been through?

For the remainder of the week, you choose to avoid your university commitments, wallowing in self-pity within the safe confinement of your bedroom. Despite sharing a house with your three friends, you surprisingly succeed in avoiding conversation with them. Occasionally, when you attempt to sneak out to use the toilet, you find sweet treats left at your bedroom door - a silent reminder that they’re there whenever you’re ready to talk. But three whole days pass without a word. You even miss Valentine’s day.

On Thursday, a knock interrupts your solitude, and you fully intend to ignore it, not yet ready to face the outside world.

“Y/n, I’m coming in whether you like it or not, so you have 30 seconds to not be naked before I open this door.” Yoongi announces from outside, anticipating your refusal.

“Come in.” he hears you mumble from inside.

He enters to find you cocooned in your blanket on the bed. You both share a silent gaze and Yoongi’s heart aches at the sight of your eyes slowly filling up with tears. As your lips start to quiver, about to burst out in tears, Yoongi rushes over and envelops you in his arms.

Yoongi isn’t known for giving hugs, but as you sob into his shirt, you realise he should do it more often; he’s a really good hugger. And in the second that you feel your friend give you a comforting kiss on the crown of your head, you let go completely.

Yoongi remains silent the whole time you reveal your crush on Hoseok. The only sign you know he is still listening is when he tightens his grasp on you whenever your story elicits harder sobs. Yoongi knows its best to not say or question anything, especially when you start blubbering about some acronym he’s never heard of (something about an OPM), which means 2 rows behind and 10 seats to the left? He decides to not probe further, understanding that right now you just need someone to listen.

"I’m so stupid, I should've known this would have happened, I always get carried away, I always do this,” You sob tiredly, messily wiping your snotty nose, “I need to stop being like this, I think there’s something actually wrong with me Yoongi. I feel like a complete idiot”

Through your swollen eyes, you see him shake his head.

“No, Y/n, stop it. You’re not stupid, you’re not an idiot, there’s nothing wrong with you, and you definitely don’t need to stop being you.” Yoongi scolds, pulling you in for another hug.

“B-but you even said it yourself, I’m unrealistic with these things,” You choke before bursting out into full-on wails, “I made myself believe that he actually liked me back and he didn’t even know I existed.”

You both remain hugging for a while, and with the feeling of Yoongi soothingly rubbing your back, your sobs gradually calm down.

"You know," Yoongi begins quietly, "I love you and I love that you love love because your love for love pushed me to try to be with someone I'm in love with. Only you could've done that.”

The room falls quiet as you digest his words..

“And I also hate how many times I said love in that sentence"

"You said it at least 6 times" you sniffle, smiling up at your friend, “Thank you, Yoons.”

He mirrors your smile.

“Don’t even mention it.” He says, pulling you in for a side hug, “And to hell with that man. Surely if he doesn’t even appreciate my best friend, he’s not worth it. What’s even so great about him?! Huh?” He shouts out, as you let out a small sniffing giggle.

"He's got really great cheekbones", you start, and a beat of silence passes as Yoongi meekly agrees.

"Yeah, he does.”

In an attempt to cheer you up, Yoongi invites you to join him and Jimin for lunch on Sunday before your shift, promising a rather unconventional third-wheel experience. Despite your initial hesitations, as you watch the undeniable cuteness between them, your temporary barriers crumble, and you watch their interactions with joy and just the faintest tinie-wine hint of bittersweetness. Perhaps it’s because Jimin’s genuine concern for your well-being radiates comfort or maybe it’s his angelic aura, you find yourself confiding in him about your crush on Hoseok.

As you share your sorrows with the two men in front of you, you release a sigh of relief as he takes in the information with nothing but open-mindedness and kindness. His reassurance and comfort that Hoseok’s forgetfulness is not a reflection of you, but rather a quirk of his character - or, as Jimin admits, an annoyance - brings you comfort, leaving you feeling better as you make your way to work.

Throughout the rest of your shift, a sense of peace settles within you. Perhaps, deep down, there’s a part of you that just thrives on romance and love, a factor ingrained in your disposition. As you clean tables, you come to the realisation: who cares if romance seems a bit elusive to you right now? It undeniably exists in the world, evident all around you. In your friends, in love songs, and even in those silly magnet socks. And that brings you happiness - a fact made abundantly clear by the joy you feel knowing your friend is experiencing it.

Maybe, just maybe, it’s just not your time, and you muster the courage to admit, with a shaky exhale, that perhaps Hoseok simply wasn’t meant to be that person for you.

But you don’t dwell on that thought for too long, getting distracted by your divorced regular walking in with a new woman.

You stride to your Monday lecture actually feeling really great. I mean, you acquired a new friend (Jimin <3), you have a feeling Molly may have a little thing for Taehyung (which you’ll undoubtedly observe with unsolicited interest at lunch), and your Sunday regular (who strangely moved on from a whole marriage in just a week) still gives good tips. You feel ecstatic even.

On your way to your lecture, you pause briefly. Your eyebrows furrow at the sight of two rats sitting together on a bench, their tails somehow strangely interlocking. It was oddly and bizarrely romantic, prompting you to send a picture in the groupchat. For once, everyone actually agreed, even Yoongi.

So, who cares if you romanticise things? It got you this far, even through countless 9am lectures - a victory for someone with your habit of missing lectures. Perhaps you could still appreciate Hoseok's face, it's still a gorgeous face. And besides, when you really think about it, you don't actually know anything about him! He might actually be an awful person! You try to tell yourself that, but there’s still a small part of your heart that remains unconvinced.

You enter the lecture hall surprisingly 10 minutes early, say goodbye to OSP, hello to sitting wherever the fuck you want (which is kind of a relief considering Hoseok tended to sit really far behind and you really struggled to see the board sometimes).

Absorbed in Yoongi’s latest post of him and Jimin, you’re startled by a familiar voice beside you.

"Is this seat taken?"

Oh?

You look up to see the devastatingly handsome ray of sunshine himself, gesturing to the seat where your bag is on. You try not to inwardly scream at how good he looks. He’s wearing glasses you’ve never seen before and a really fluffy looking red jumper, which just makes him look so boyfriend and so, so gorgeous.

"No, it's not actually", you hesitantly move your bag and offer a polite smile.

You watch him sit down next to you and give you another earth-shaking smile, to which you offer a timid one back. You curse your heart for speeding up.

Don't get your hopes up, Y/n.

In order to distract yourself, you look down at your phone again and answer some messages from your family, unaware of Hoseok stealing glances at you.

He notices just how cute your nose is, how sparkly your eyes are when you gleefully read whatever is on your screen. He is a bit embarrassed to admit how much he would love to know how to make the corners of your lips move upwards like that. He also notes his sudden urge to grab your attention away from your screen and onto something else. Or maybe someone else.

He also feels the need to giggle and scream into a pillow. Huh.

Before he opens his mouth to make conversation and apologise for what happened last week, the professor begins his lectures, interrupting his chance.

As the lecture progresses, your professor makes another weird ‘joke’ about his wife, which makes you halt your note taking to stare at him in disbelief.

"I’m so surprised his wife hasn’t left him yet" Hoseok whispers to you.

You giggle at the remark, your head instinctively dipping down to avoid drawing attention. Hoseok's eyes brighten at the sound of your laugh, completely captivated by the sound. If you looked at him at this moment, you would notice that his face lit up much more than usual, a glint of endearment painting his smile. Your eyes meet, and for a moment, time stands still. You’re struck with how breathtakingly pretty he looks up close, it’s almost unfair. Your eyes are drawn to details you never noticed before - like the charming mole on his lips that makes you <3 (also ignites the desire to kiss it).

Although you know the lesson from the past week was that you can sometimes be delusional in your romanticising, but this time you are 100% sure you see it objectively: Hoseok briefly looks down at your lips before meeting your gaze again. It’s clear you didn’t imagine it, as you catch a sudden look of embarrassment wash over his face as if he got caught out. That’s because he did just get caught out.

You both look away from each other’s eyes, the intensity of the moment becoming a bit too overwhelming. But you both continue to sit together in silence, your shoulders brushing, with wide, bashful smiles plastered on your faces. The same thoughts (or lack thereof) swirling in both of your minds:

Tee-hee.

a/n: tee-motherfucking-hee :) Thank you for reading!

#bts angst #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts hoseok #hoseok angst #hoseok fluff #bts fanfic #hoseok x reader #hoseok scenarios #jhope fluff #jhope angst

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aziraphales-library · 7 months

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hello mods!! ive just read a fic called ''curve of old bones'' and ''snow angel'' i believe it was called and was wondering what fic you can recommend me to read that follows the themes of fake dating/ enemies to friends to lover/ pining whilst fucking sorta thing???

Hey, we have tags for everything you're asking for! #fake/pretend relationship, #enemies to lovers, #enemies to friends to lovers, #pining while fucking. As pining while fucking only has two posts, here are some more to add...

Curses foiled again by hapax (E)

To be blunt: in order to return to tip-top condition, Aziraphale was going to have to get laid. And the angel had spent almost six thousand years of his existence among humans assiduously avoiding anything of the sort. Aziraphale turns to his hereditary enemy for assistance with a particularly pesky curse. After all, it’s not like a demon has any feelings that might be involved.

Ambrosia by pilatesandpinot (E)

Those damn aphrodisiacs. They chatted as they soaked in the water, Crowley ate from a platter of fruit, hoping the sugar from them would somehow cure his sudden lightheadedness, as the blood in his head was probably pumping down to his groin, and get rid of the heated feeling in his abdomen, while Aziraphale lathered her arms and shoulders with oil. When she moved down to her breasts and tummy, she leaned back a bit, slowly and carefully cupping herself and making a small little hum sound as she rubbed her belly. Crowley had to bite his bottom lip to keep himself from groaning, watching the glisten of the angel’s skin, the warm glow she seemed to be emitting, her lush and curvy body sitting comfortably in the water. He was indeed fucked. ------------------------------ Aziraphale and Crowley have oysters at Petronius's, and soon learn while visiting the bath house afterwards why oysters are one of Aphrodite's favorite foods.

May My Teaching Drop as the Rain by Dee_Morris (E)

Several people on Twitter have commented that there isn't enough Ineffable Tutors content out there, and I have to agree. The book doesn't go into very much detail about what Cortese and Harrison get up to in the years they spend educating young Warlock, and as a fic writer there's nothing as much fun as a blank space to play in. I expect that the stories in this series will more or less stand alone, but I'll add notes and recaps where I think it's necessary. These will mostly be light-hearted horny adventures with little to no angst. Tags may change or be added as I write more stories.

Out There by snae_b (E)

Small town paper, small town news, and Aziraphale always gets stuck with the shit stories. Strange lights in the desert? Aziraphale might as well be writing about el Chupacabra. Again. At least his source is cute, even if he is a little out there.

The Arrangement by TawnyOwl95 (E)

Aziraphale and Crowley are set up on a blind date as a joke by their respective housemates. They decide to get their own back and call everybody's bluff by *gasp* fake dating!

Craving by DawnOfTomorrow (E)

“You want me to pay for it.” He drawled, leaning back in his chair. “Don’t put words in my mouth.” His assistant said, entirely unimpressed by the fact that he could fire her. “You said-” “I said that it would probably be a good idea for you to get some, and if you can’t be bothered to do it the normal way, that there are professional options. And then I said that if you’d like, I could recommend someone.” --- He called the fucking number. He didn’t know why – okay, he did, he was an idiot, tipsy, lonely, and horny – but he called the damn number. --- Even just looking at the blonde’s profile, he felt a twinge in his gut. Blonde curls indeed – over features that revealed the other man’s age, light eyes, and a cute, upturned nose. Slim lips, currently curved in a smile for the bartender. Crowley studied the rest of him too – a bit of chub, not enough to be fat, but definitely dad-bod territory. He sighed softly, wondering what sort of witch Anathema was, because she had been spot on about this guy being his type. He didn’t even need to see the large hands or plush thighs to make up his mind – this… this could work.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #adult omens #pining while fucking #human au #mod d

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thevoidscreams · 1 month

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Let’s do another one, shall we? This one might be a little more…freaky.

(Any Chaos Astartes)

*Your Astartes been more affectionate lately. Slowly persuading you into his “nest” where he finally has you right where he wants you. Stuffing you full of his clutch.

*You don’t even realize whats happened until you’re whimpering out in ecstasy. Too drugged up on his scent/pheromones.

*Oh, you’ll make a wonderful mother to his brood.

(Too freaky?)

Day 16

I am frothing. I love oviposition.

Pairing: Pumpkin chaos astartes oc x reader

Warnings: oviposition, sex pheromones/ chemically induced arousal, space marine husbandry with full sized astartes

Making the warnings bigger so yall dont miss it. But I'm gonna say it's all consensual I'm going to make more for this in the future I think

When I'd found him out in the wilderness I hadn't expected to bond with him so strongly. I couldn't even really tell what legion or chapter he'd been a part of.

Chaos, that was what the apothecaries told me and I was instructed to move forward with caution. I called him Pumpkin as a sign of affection. It was the nickname my mom used to call me. He liked it alot. Answering me eagerly when I called for my Pumpkin. Perhaps I should have tried to learn his real name first, now he won't tell me what it is. He only answers to Pumpkin.

But I liked him. He was a good housemate, keeping tidy and he was affectionate for someone I found in the woods.

He took up the old room I gave him, and it quickly became a cozy place as he scrounged old furniture from curbs.

I made him clean them thoroughly before he could bring them in. But it became a really sweet set up.

After he was done with all that he seemed to shift. It was nearly imperceptible at first. Just more touches here and there. Going out and bringing back fresh foods he'd foraged with him.

Checking in on me, marking dates on the calendar with little stars. As if he was tracking something but he wouldn't tell me what. He spoke in broken English, but he was still learning the language, and I had learned just enough of his High Gothic to communicate.

I thought about going out to acquire another astartes. The forums said if you could have more then one they learned new languages quicker.

When I brought it up with him, he absolutely lost it. Yelling “No” in more than just two languages.

I was shocked but dropped it. But he was oddly distant after that, taking his dinner to his room to eat alone.

That night I went to the forums and tried to find out more.

[Hey all. My chaos astartes is strictly against me getting another astartes. Why,]

NewlyChaotic:

“Hey all,

I ‘adopted’ my chaos astartes about five months ago and everything has been great so far, but I had been wanting to open my home to another perhaps. But when I brought it up to Pumpkin (it's what he likes me to call him, I don't know why)

He lashed out badly and wouldn't talk to me for hours and went to bed.

I only brought it up after reading that astartes learn and operate better in groups generally.

Even chaos aligned.

Any advice would be greatly appreciated, I feel so lost and just want my Pumpkin hugs back. ;^;

I wanted and soon my thread had a response.

Salamander_Sheila🐉:

Hey @NewlyChaotic,

Sorry to hear about your troubles. It happens sometimes that astartes grow bonded to their baselines and just don't want to share. He might feel like you'll replace him if you bring another astartes into your home.

As for the chaos aspect, what legion is he?

NewlyChaotic:

I'm not sure, his armor looks like it was scrubbed clean of paint and he has no livery that I can discern. He's normally very sweet and I love him to pieces, I could never replace him.

Salamander_Sheila🐉:

I get that. I love my boys to bits and wouldn't ever want to hurt them.

Maybe he left his chapter/warband.

Also my friend @ShadowyMistress has a few chaos boys. She might know some things.

ShadowyMistress:

I have been summoned?

Yes I have many different chaos astartes. They're really sweet when they actually like you lol. :p

NewlyChaotic:

So is his behavior normal?

ShadowyMistress:

Seems it. However you should look out if he starts to make “nests”.

Some mutated astartes begin to take on more animalistic traits.

He might try to breed you. Which, I mean if you're down for that then Godspeed.

Salamander_Sheila🐉:

It's pretty rare, but romantic connections can happen.

I would know.

I let that digest for a minute. Turning to look towards Pumpkin's door.

My heart thumped harder at the thought and I felt uncomfortably warm.

My love life had been pretty lackluster. Hadn't had a date in a hot minute.

I shook my head, I'm sure it wasn't that.

NewlyChaotic:

Thanks for all the help guys. I have a lot to mentally chew on with his.

Salamander_Sheila🐉:

Talk to him, as best as you can.

If he's not proficient at English it's okay. Astartes are good at sensing intent and feelings.

Be open with him and if you mean it, tell him you don't plan on replacing him with anyone else.

Good luck with Pumpkin, and you can shoot me or Shadow a dm if you need. We're usually around at this time.

NewlyChaotic:

I will. Night guys.

I logged off and shut the computer down.

The side table lamp was on and I knocked on the door softly. He wasn't an early sleeper so I knew he'd still be up.

There was a soft “Yes?” From the other side, I cracked the door open and called in.

“May I come in?...Please?”

I waited, my chest feeling tight for some reason.

“Yes.”

I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding and stepped in.

Pumpkin was at his desk. It looked like he'd been watching a nature documentary on the laptop I'd gotten him. I was happy he'd been enjoying it.

The words of the girls on the forum flashed in my mind. ‘Just talk to him..he'll understand the intent.’

“Hey, I wanted to apologize about earlier, I didn't mean to upset you.”

He looked at me with green gold eyes that seemed to understand what I was trying to convey.

Perhaps he understood more of my language than he could speak.

He turned to me fully and put out his hand. I took it and shivered at the contact. His hands were so warm.

“I don't want you to think I'm trying to replace you, not at all. I care about you Pumpkin. I just read that you astartes tend to do better in groups. And I was worried that being here with me wouldn't be enough to make you happy.”

I hadn't meant to spill that fear to him, but it was out now and I couldn't take it back.

He pulled me into his arms. Hugging me with so much understanding and affection. It felt amazing to be held like that.

“You are…enough. I am.. I am happy with you.”

He had to think through his words as he spoke and I returned the hug.

“I'm so glad. I just want you to be happy and healthy.”

He nodded and kissed the top of my head, it made me giggle.

I let him go and he did the same. But he raised his hands and gently touched my chin.

“I love you.” He chirped on High Gothic and I wasn't sure what he'd said but I didn't press.

“Well, I'm gonna get to bed. I have more work to get done in the morning.”

I hurried out, feeling a tad bit light headed. His touch had left me feeling hot for reasons I couldn't explain.

I was going to need a shower. Probably a cold one.

I watched her go, my hearts pounding. Too little, I noted. My pheromones hadn't built up enough. I opened up the journal on the miniature computer system my beloved had gotten me.

I needed to record this interaction. It would be important to show our sons in the future. After they were here of course.

It hurt to lie to her. I loved her, but I couldn't risk her finding out I knew everything she'd said.

And if she brought an intruder into our home, our nest. My cover would be blown and our children's safety compromised.

I loved her, but she could be so silly.

Standing, I shutdown the computer and chuckled. No incense needed, no fancy oils. I liked these little machines.

It was late and I needed to finish touching up the place where I would make our family, my new warband of sons, a reality.

It was such a shame that the old one lacked vision. That they refused to accept the gifts of our patrons.

Our numbers would have grown and we would have been unstoppable. Able to take anyone we pleased to grow our numbers.

I had had to do it, to cleanse them from existence. They turned me away, called me disgusting. A shame to kill so many brothers and cousins.

But what if they told others?

I'd rid myself of their colors, their symbols, their outdated ideals. I was my own man now. I would have a warband that was loyal and not full of naysayers and old ruins.

The prince of pleasure and the changer of ways had given me such wonderful gifts.

I just had to have my little darling here with me in my nest. My pheromones were the strongest here. And she'd been too busy to notice that I moved my couches to block in the corner.

This would be the most comfortable place to fill her with my clutch.

I rearranged the pillows again, and pulled more blankets I'd gotten into the pit.

Perfect.

Her door was never locked. A good thing really, she was so beautiful in the moonlight. Dreaming soft dreams.

Were they of me? I know what few dreams I had were of her.

They had been since I'd first seen her in the park. Plotting how I would find my way to her. The whispered promises of my patrons in my ears.

But then, she found me first. It was fated. Truly it could not have been any other way. I had to be hers. She had to be mine. They told me so.

I liked the new shampoo she used, it smelled like desert flowers….like home.

“I love you.” I whispered again. My fingers brushing over her still damp hair. I would feel it more when I took her tomorrow. I would let her work while I made ready our love nest.

She would be mine. And her body would hold our sons. The prey I brought for her to feast on had been nutrient rich and her cycles had proven that. Tomorrow was the perfect time, peak fertility.

Oh so many clutches would her body carry for me.

I kissed her lips softly and slipped back to my room.

Soon darling. Soon.

The alarm I'd set woke me and I stretched rolling out of bed.

The smell of food wafted to me as I stepped out into the hall.

“Pumpkin?”

There was an answering grunt from the kitchen and my astartes came into view. Cooking up a balanced meal, as was his habit.

“Anything fun planned for today?” I asked, knowing he likely wouldn't reply.

“Well I have to finish up that last chapter and get it sent in. My editor's been on my butt all week over it.”

I felt his eyes fall on me. But he didn't reply verbally, just bringing me food without asking for anything in return.

I smiled and took the plates.

“I don't deserve you. You're too good to me.”

I was surprised when he wrapped me up in his arms, hugging me and nuzzling the top of my head.

He'd been doing that more and more often.

“Thank you, Pumpkin.” “You are welcome.” He sighed happily. “You remembered the response. That’s great.” I looked up and our noses touched briefly. Just to be a stinker I kissed the tip of his nose. He shivered and pulled away to look at me, he looked a bit confused and oh so adorable. I giggled, I couldn't help it, somehow the towering mass of muscle was just too cute. “Sorry, it was simply too good an opportunity to pass up.”

He nodded and leaned down to kiss my nose in return. I giggled again and he went to his chair. I told him about my chapter and the climatic finale I had planned and how those plot points would lead to the next book. He listened with patience and nodded, even if I wasn’t sure he understood all the details. He took my empty plates and put them in the sink. “Have a good day.” He hugged me and I hugged him back. “I’ll do my best. Just for you.” His eyes lit up at that. She was becoming more affectionate in return. My patrons must be right. It had been too hard to pull myself away. But I needed time to continue to make the nest perfect with the final rituals. I retreated to my room, several bags of snacks ready for the trap I had set. At around 1:30 I finished up my last edit and sighed, saving my document again for the thousandth time and sent it off to my editor. I heard Pumpkin’s door open and went to see what he was doing. WHen he saw me his eyes lit up and he waved me over. “Hey you, guess who officially finished their book?” I gestured to myself. “It’s me!”

I stopped at his door and he took my hand. The lights in his room were dim and comfortable. “What’s all this about?”

He’d rearranged his furniture making a blanket and pillow bowl. He’d set up his laptop with snacks and the show we’d been watching together. The room smelled strongly of him and something sweet. I was going to question what he’d used but suddenly I just didn’t mind. And hell, I could use a break and a treat for all that work I'd done. I let him take me to his blanket pit and climbed over the couch. “So what’s on the menu today?”

“You my beloved.”

I pressed play and pulled her down into my lap. She obliged and I had to once again fight to simply have her then and there. She fit perfectly against my body and I could feel myself getting hard. I needed to calm down. To let her find herself naturally ready to mate. I could smell it on her. Her fertility. The episode was good, but I kept losing my focus on it and looking down at her. After an hour she seemed a bit woozy. Like she had been after that party. She’d worried me then, but now I knew what clouded her mind and it wasn’t any drink. I smiled, it must have looked deranged for as much glee and anticipation I felt. It was impossible to focus now, I was so needy now that I had half a mind to just leave and take care of myself. But I didn’t want to. I wanted to be close to Pumpkin. I wanted to pet him and kiss him deeply. He was so handsome, nothing like what those forums said about the chaos chapters. “Pumpkin?” I breathed, my head felt light as I looked up at him, his green gold eyes boring into me. “Yes?” Mmm, his voice, gosh I could listen to it all day. I turned in his lap and did something I never thought I’d do. I kissed him, full on the mouth. He flinched with shock and my brain shorted out. The world spun and I was under him. The blanket pile smelled like him and I buried my face in it. Something nagged at the back of my mind but I ignored it in favor of space marine smell. Pumpkin moved away and I whined, making grabby hands for him to come back. My body was being shifted, although I wasn’t sure why and I felt him return the heat of his skin on mine making me moan. His hands took hold of my thighs and something pressed at my entrance. I was too giddy to look down, the instinctual part of my brain hollered again and I knew what, but I found that I didn’t care. She yielded to me so beautifully, her body was ready and I slipped in with a groan and she let out a silvery little cry under me. Her hands clawed at my chest, trying to pull me down closer to her. I let her, and took her chin in my fingers, holding her as I pressed her down into the blankets, kissing her hard. The mother of my sons. Too perfect, too warm and tight. I wondered if she would accept me forever. I would happily make her my little wife. She could write her books while she tended to our sons. I pulled out, rutting back into her. My cock was perfectly tailored to allow me to push the tip into her cervix without hurting her. Just one of the design choices that the changer had gifted me. It would allow me to cum in her and not waste any of it. That cum would prepare her body for what came next. My clutch, those seeds that would mature and grow till she was able to lay them. It would only be a few of them. BUt soon I’d be able to fill her. Her body would grow accustomed to them. But for now, I loved her body with my own. It was like heaven, his body moving against me, and in me. The warmth of his body over mine and his lips stealing kisses. I cried out again as he pressed in deeper, every thrust was pure delight. His cock brushing over every spot conceivable that might make me see stars. My nails racked over his skin, leaving angry red scratches behind, he moaned and it made me want him even more. It was like candy to my brain, a sugarly sweet addiction.

“Pumpkin.” I squealed as he wrapped his arms under my back and hugged me tight to him, leaving barely enough room to breath. His hips jack hammered into mind, making cohesive thoughts impossible. But what should matter to me? It was an otherworldly level of pleasure. No one had ever made me feel this good. The force of his thrusts and the pure bliss sent me over the edge, It felt like my body was twisting inside as my eyes rolled back and my back arched almost painfully into him. The noise that came from me didn’t sound like one a pleasure i’m sure, but my body burned with even more need, the need to be filled. Her nails cut into my thick hide, drawing droplets of blood and I felt even more in love with her. So strong for someone so small. I could feel her loosening and the tip of my cock slipped an inch into her womb. The perfect place for my clutch. I came into her. The thick ropes of my love conditioning her for the final stage. The prince promised me that it would make her body accept my clutch, giving her the feeling of being pregnant. So her body wouldn’t reject my sons. They moved down from their place of holding in my abdomen and I groaned deeply as I felt them pass from me and into her. I petted her hair as she gasped and writhed under me as the eggs stretched her. “There, there. Soon my love. You will bring forth our sons.” I soothed her kissing her cheeks and temples while three lemon sized eggs were deposited into her. I stayed inside her till she fell asleep in my arms. A soft smile gracing her lips. “My love, you cannot imagine the joy you have brought to my life. And the joys you have yet to bring.” I rolled onto my side making her comfortable as she pressed into me. I placed a blanket over her. I had a journal entry to update. My Dearest sons, You were conceived today. And your mother was more perfect than I could have ever dreamed.

#warhammer 40k #warhammer #my writing #warhammer 40k x reader #adeptus astartes #chaos astartes #space marine x reader #space marine oc #mating press march #Space Marine Husbandry

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t3a-tan · 1 month

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Number 37 for any oc/ ocs??

37) “Oh God, I almost crushed you!”

A little out of nowhere, but here it is ^^ Human Oliver finds borrower Tanner. Both of them are confused about why their cousin is so big/small. Enjoy!

---

Time had passed since Oliver's experiences with the borrowers, and although he was still following his usual routine he had started leaving out little bits of food every morning just to help out. The borrower, James, seemed capable of looking after himself, but he could help himself to whatever Oliver left out too.

Although he was intrigued by the man and oddly drawn to him, he also knew that the borrower was still quite uncomfortable around him due to the size difference and general rules of his culture. Oliver wasn't offended by that at all; whatever made his housemate the most comfortable was fine with him.

He found his eyes instinctively drawn to the floor more than they had been before— checking to ensure the man wasn't within his path. It had taken some correcting to remind himself that James was not foolish enough to move within his path without speaking up… now he was able to keep that urge mostly contained.

This backfired immediately, though not in the way he expected.

This time Oliver had been in deep thought about an email he needed to write, already pre-preparing it in his head as he made his way towards his office with a fresh cup of tea. Because he was so focused he didn't even notice that something had suddenly entered his path until he heard a cry.

Oliver froze when he heard the sound from below, bristling in surprise and all of his thoughts coming to a standstill. It took him a few moments to get his thoughts back in order to realise the cry came from…directly below. Oliver took a step back the moment he realised that, dropping to a crouch as his expression took on an edge of concern and guilt.

“Oh God, I almost crushed you! Are you alright, James?” He fretted, placing the cup of tea down on the floor beside the tiny man only to notice… It wasn't James at all. So many borrowers… how have I never met one until recently? “You’re not James…”

Upon making that observation, the figure looked up and Oliver blanched at the odd sight. He had thought it was just black clothing, but the boy was completely void of colour; his only distinguishable features being tear-filled eyes and a parted mouth. They had little wisps of black coming from them… like a living shadow.

Still, they were in distress because of him. Whether they were a borrower or something else, he still almost stepped on them…

“I apologise. It must have been very startling to see someone like me get so close… Take some deep breaths, alright? You're safe.” Oliver moved from a crouch to a kneel and rested his hands on his lap as he leaned down to be closer to eye-level with the tiny shadow. Once the echoey sniffles had stopped and they seemed to be calming down, Oliver opened his mouth to speak again only to be interrupted by the shadowy figure suddenly running towards his face and hugging his nose.

Oliver blinked in bewilderment at the gesture. Are they that thankful that I avoided stepping on them..? Or perhaps… The noises coming from the tiny shadow were very child-like. Another child? Poor thing… I wonder why they were out in the open. Did James know about them?

He moved his hands slowly to cradle the tiny figure, who quickly latched onto a finger instead once they were available, nuzzling their face into his fingertip in such a way that even a composed man like Oliver almost cooed. He cleared his throat instead though, averting his gaze awkwardly. It’s not a good sign for a child to attach to strangers this easily… abandonment? Or perhaps—

“O-Ollie…” The tiny child’s voice was unstable like a radio that kept losing signal, warbling and wavering unnaturally. Even so, Oliver heard very clearly what they said…he even recognized their manner of saying it. He stared down at the tiny child for a few more moments only for his eyes to widen as he realised that he could recognize them.

That's impossible… But it sounds just like him.

The child was trembling, shuddering and scared; as if they had just come from seeing something traumatising. They buried their face into his thumb as they continued to grasp onto it with fingers that seemed impossibly minuscule.

“Tanner..?”

Oliver felt a heavy feeling settle in his stomach the more he wondered how his little cousin had ended up like this. Three years ago he was a happy and normal sized child; now he was tiny and…. different. His brows furrowed and he leaned in closer to the tiny boy, unsure whether to cry or cheer or anything at all.

The boy nodded slowly as he continued to keep his face hidden in Oliver's thumb. The confirmation made tears appear in Oliver's eyes before he could do much to compose himself, and before he knew it he was picking the boy up and cradling him to his chest in a makeshift hug.

“Hey hey hey…. You're alright. You're.. you're alive. I— Don't worry, I'll protect you. I'm sorry…” Oliver wasn't considering his words before speaking like he usually would; causing him to sound disjointed and anxious. That wasn't far from the truth though… thinking about what might have happened to his cousins whilst they were missing was painful enough, but seeing the effects firsthand?

It was soul shattering.

“S-so…big…” The boy murmured shakily, the shadows beginning to disappear and his normal features returning. He was wearing a hospital gown or sorts, and his hair was now blonde instead of the dark brown it used to be. Oliver was so preoccupied in watching the change that he almost missed the meek voice.

“Yes. Yes… I'm big. But that's alright, it doesn't mean I'll hurt you. I promise that you're safe in my hands…” The man was quick to reassure, recognising the fear present in his cousin's stammers. It was understandable. A kidnapping victim was bound to be shaken up after escaping. That did make him wonder though… “How did you get here, Tanner..?”

The tiny boy finally pulled his face away from his thumb, lip trembling. He looked up at Oliver and the man was struck by the fact that Tanner’s eyes were just pools of black. It was wrong. Something was very wrong. Who did this? He couldn't ask the boy such a question so suddenly, so he took a deep breath to contain his anger.

“I…I d-don’t know… In the dark. Very dark… Scary… A-alone…” Tanner began to explain, the echoes in his voice still there but much less than when he had been surrounded by shadow. The boy began to shake more as he recounted his experience and so Oliver began to carefully stroke his head with his thumb. Tanner had always liked having his hair stroked when he was younger, and as the boy leaned into it Oliver knew he must still enjoy that touch now.

Taking a moment to gather himself again, Tanner took a deep breath and wiped at the black tears that had spilled over.

“Don't know.. don't know how long I-I was… there… A-and then I was here…” He stammered, fidgeting with the hem of the hospital gown he was dressed in. Oliver's brows furrowed in confusion. He just…appeared?

“Did you fall asleep?” He asked, receiving a shake of the head in response. Oliver let out a small hum of contemplation. That was odd… But also, whatever happened to Tanner was clearly supernatural in some sense anyway because of his eyes and changing forms. Oliver wasn't qualified to know these things…in fact, he was feeling quite shaken about his knowledge of the world already and now that had only increased.

“Why….why are you a-a human…?”

Oliver bristled at that question. Why would Tanner ask a question like that? He had always been human… Tanner had been too up until he was taken. Unless…

“What else would I be?” He asked, still gentle and reassuring with all of his movements and his tone of voice. It didn't matter what Tanner ended up responding with, Oliver would keep him safe regardless. Whatever the situation was, it might be confusing, but it was clear that this was his cousin in some capacity.

“B…borrower…” The boy responded, voice meeker as he seemed to recognize that Oliver was actually a human and not a borrower. That gave him some pause again… was Tanner a borrower? Was he shrunk and now called himself that? But then why would he think Oliver would also be one?

Oliver shook his head softly, but continued to pet the boy’s head soothingly.

“I’m afraid not. But I am Oliver Oakwood. And you're Tanner Brighton?” He was curious to see if that was still the case, should Tanner be a borrower. A borrower version of his cousins… did that mean there was a borrower version of himself? How odd. Maybe there’s a human James somewhere…

The tiny boy shook his head again, wiping at his eyes. He hesitated briefly before responding.

“I-I’m Tanner Button. My cousin is also O-Oliver Oakwood though… but he's… a-a borrower.” Tanner explained squeakily, and Oliver had to take a moment to think over what that could mean. Was this Tanner from an alternate universe or was he from this universe? As unlikely as it seemed, the first idea was also the most plausible…

Oliver's thoughts were interrupted by a small whine.

“Are…you going to h-hurt me…?” Tanner asked, trembling again as he spoke, his security shaken as he realised that Oliver was not a borrower like him. Oliver's expression softened and he raised his hands slightly just so he could be at eye level with the young boy.

“There's nothing in the world that could make me hurt you. Whether you're my Tanner or not, I wouldn't harm even a single hair on your head…” He assured before kissing his pinkie and gently pressing it against Tanner's forehead. The boy bristled slightly at the gesture and brushed his own tiny hand against the area, clearly touch-starved. Oliver smiled reassuringly. “I'm sure your Oliver is worried sick about you. Until I can get you to him, I'll keep you safe…”

Lowering his hand back down to chest level, Oliver picked up his cup of tea in his free hand before standing back up, email forgotten.

“If it helps at all, I've met other borrowers before. There was a boy named Marcus who got separated from his parents so I returned him to his home, and there's a man named James who lives here in our walls.” Oliver could recognize that Tanner was still worried, so hopefully listening to him talk would give him time to sort his nerves out. He began to walk back towards the kitchen, setting his cup down on the island before walking up to the fridge.

“Are blackberries your favourite too, Button?” He asked with a smile, the name slipping out without much thought. Tanner's face lit up, eyes widening a fraction before he tilted his head.

“B-Button…?”

“Think of it as a nickname… To differentiate you and the version of you that is from this world. Is that…alright? Or would you rather I just call you Tanner..?” Oliver took the blackberries out from the fridge, brows furrowing with concern over whether he might have made his tiny cousin feel uncomfortable without thinking. He approached the island again, starting to lower his hand.

“You can…you can c-call me Button…!” The boy warbled with an edge of enthusiasm that was very thinly veiling desperation. For approval, for attention. Oliver let his hand rest on the island, opening his mouth to speak only for Tanner to speak first in a begging tone. “P-please don't put me down… I don't want to be alone. I don't want to go back… no no no…”

Oliver's fingers twitched and his concern grew as he saw the panic suddenly entering the boy’s body language. He was hugging himself, trembling again and black tendrils began to form over his skin once more.

“Okay. I won't put you down until you're ready… You're not alone. I'm here, alright? You're not going anywhere you don't want to…” Oliver cupped his hands together, rubbing Tanner's back and bringing him up to his chest again. He hugged him close once more, gently shushing the trembling boy. “Deep breaths… You’re safe here with me…”

Slowly but surely the borrower began to calm down, the shadows disappearing once more. Oliver made a note to himself that Tanner was touch-starved more than he had initially realized and to communicate his intentions fully and directly before attempting to lessen contact again. He also wasn't going to use the nickname again until he was certain that Tanner was actually okay with it and not agreeing to it out of fear.

What happened? What sort of torture has this poor kid been through..? What are my cousins going through…?

Once the tears had stopped Tanner sniffled and wiped at his eyes with the edges of his now black-stained hospital gown. Oliver's expression softened and his eyes held a subdued sadness in them.

“If…if you're gonna give m-me a nickname… what should your one be..? Since u-um… since your name's the same. A-as my cousin, I mean…” The boy stuttered, and Oliver took the change of subject as a sign that he wasn't as on edge as before. Hopefully… He hummed in thought.

“Well… maybe Doctor? It's my title. I'm not sure if borrowers have the same titles as humans do.” He offered, only to pause when he recognized that Tanner had suddenly gone very still. He brushed the kid’s hair from his face with his pinkie, attempting to coax a response from him. “Are you feeling quite alright?”

“D-doctor… doctors are bad… they— they hurt borrowers, they take us apart a-and they— no… you're not a doctor. O-Ollie wouldn't do that…” The shadows returned almost immediately, consuming the boy and leaving him as an indistinguishable dark figure once again. The colours of his eyes and mouth flipped to white once more as frightened tears streamed down. “Y-you promised… You said you wouldn't h-hurt me… You promised..!”

Before Oliver could even begin to process what was being said, Tanner attempted and failed to jump from his hands. He swiftly brought his hands up to eye level, concern now very clear in his expression, distressed by the outburst and by the implications of the boy’s words.

“I do promise. I'm— I have a doctorate in psychology. Either way, I wouldn't hurt you…” It took a lot to maintain a gentle and reassuring tone and Oliver tried his best to ensure his own worry didn't cause him to raise his voice at all. He felt his heart break again as he saw how panicked and helpless Tanner looked from within his cupped hands. “What…happened to you…?”

Alarmingly, Tanner's form suddenly began to distort before disappearing entirely, causing Oliver to panic for a brief moment until he saw the boy was on the island. It didn't seem like he knew what had happened either as the moment he realised he was no longer being held by anyone he began to wail— not with despair though… he was terrified. Oliver felt tears prick the corners of his vision but he had to keep calm.

It was hard. This situation wasn't normal and as much as psychology was his strong suit it was so much harder to keep himself in check when his family was involved. He didn't know what to do.

“I-I'm sorry— I-I'm sorry, you can hurt me..!” Oliver's face fell.

“I..I don't want to—”

He was interrupted immediately; Tanner wasn't really listening…

“Please don't go— I-I don't want to be alone!”

“You're not alone, Tanner, I—” Oliver spoke with more urgency this time, but Tanner continued to spiral.

“Y-you can hurt me! I-I won't move so please—”

“Tanner!” Oliver couldn't help but raise his voice slightly then, desperate for the boy to stop. It hurt to hear. It hurt to know.

The boy finally snapped out of it, though he was startled by the sudden loudness of Oliver's voice to the point that his tears started immediately after processing it. He curled up, burying his blackened face in his shadowy arms. Oliver was hesitant, but soon ran a finger up and down the kid’s back again. He didn't know what to say… so he didn't speak.

There was a tune that had been stuck in his mind since he was young. He couldn't remember where he heard it, only knowing that it was some sort of lullaby. He remembered it so clearly and yet he knew none of the words and had no vivid memories that featured it. Even so, his cousins had always been receptive towards the song and so he started to hum it.

He leaned in close, cupping his hands behind Tanner as he continued to stroke his back. After the shadows over his form began to fade and his tears slowed again, Oliver still found it a little difficult to speak. He couldn't afford to go nonverbal though, and so as much as he was struggling to form a sentence he kept trying.

“No nicknames… You're Tanner and I'm Oliver, okay?” Oliver forced it out before letting out a small sigh after, finding that his mind was still racing enough to make the room spin. He had to keep his composure… for Tanner's sake. Oliver shakily wiped a tear from his eye again before speaking. “I should have been there to help you. Maybe if I had been there you wouldn't have been taken…”

It was then that Tanner actually noticed how emotional Oliver was over the situation. It was startling; his Oliver had never been very expressive. He had never seen him cry— though he didn't see him that much anyway since he was moving out just as Tanner was turning 5 years old. He sniffled, still looking up at the giant man with a sense of guilt and awe.

“The thought of you and Sammy suffering all alone… I… It's awful. You shouldn't have had to suffer.” Oliver shook his head solemnly before meeting his gaze. “I’m sorry. There are some truly evil people in this world— but I will not let them so much as think of you again.”

Even if this was not the Tanner from his universe, Oliver's compassion wouldn't allow him to see this Tanner in any other way besides family. This was different to finding James or Marcus. This was his cousin. This was someone who had been forced to endure things no human or borrower should. He was still a child.

And still alive.

Oliver's eyes widened and he bristled, sitting up before glancing around the room as if he might spot something out of the ordinary. “Is.. is Sammy with you? Is she okay?” He needed to assure her of her own safety immediately— Tanner was the most trusting of the two which meant there was no doubt she would be terrified of him.

It hurt to imagine; Oliver would never hurt his cousins, whether they were from this universe or another. But they didn't know that… maybe Tanner was starting to understand.

Oliver focused on the boy again when he felt a minute touch against one of his fingers. He relaxed, realising how tense he was and not wanting to accidentally frighten anyone further. He almost forgot that he had asked a question, but was stricken when Tanner shook his head.

“S-she… I don't know how long… they— they injected me with something a-and then it went dark… but I wasn't asleep. I don't know…” He trailed off, still meek and unsure of himself in the situation, but also trying to give Oliver some trust. “I-I saw her before. She was…alive.. u-um. In the cage…”

Despite his efforts, some of Oliver's fury managed to seep through into his gaze at the mention of a cage. He averted his eyes momentarily, brows furrowing with upset.

“A cage. How barbaric…” He murmured, before taking a deep breath and calming himself back down. He looked at Tanner once more, and despite all the rage and despair buzzing under his skin he managed to offer a smile, petting the boy’s head.

“Okay. You should eat and drink something… I'll wash up these blackberries, alright?” He gathered Tanner up into one hand, cupping it and continuing to stroke his hair with his index finger. Simultaneously he poured some blueberries into a colander, carrying it to the sink and washing the blackberries off in the sink. Once they were clean he poured them into a bowl and set the bowl down on the island.

Oliver sat down at the island counter, continuing to cradle Tanner in his palm as he worked as he knew that the boy wouldn't take well to being put down. He picked up a blackberry and brought it over to the little borrower, offering it to him with a soothing smile.

“Go ahead. Eat your fill. I'll focus on finding your sister…” He could sense the hesitation in Tanner's movements but was relieved to see him take the berry despite that. I'll keep you safe. I'm sorry I didn't do a good enough job at that before.

As the boy ate it became clear how tired he was. After the third berry along with Oliver's gentle touch, Tanner fell into a deep sleep curled up in Oliver's warm palms. Oliver didn't move for a while after, just watching; scared that if he did anything his cousin would disappear.

I should probably talk to James...

#g/t community #ocs #g/t artist #ask box #g/t #g/t writer #borrowers #oc asks #ask #g/t art #g/t fluff #sfw g/t #g/t writing #giant/tiny #gentle giant #giant/tiny writing #g/t prompts

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spacelazarwolf · 6 months

Note

any tips on finding a roommate? My partner and i are moving in with a friend and would like another roommate to help ease the financial stress?

most of the roommates i've had have been friends who were also looking for housing, but if you are queer sometimes there are facebook groups for queer housing in whatever city you live in. you can post the apartment or house if you already have it, details about it and yourselves, and ask if anyone is looking.

i also highly recommend, unless you are absolutely desperate and will take anyone, having a sort of 'interview' with potential housemates before making any permanent decisions. i typed up a bunch when my roommate (as of december) and i were talking about moving in, and they were very straightforward and helpful. you can probably go through them with your partner and friend first to make sure everyone's on the same page, then present them to potential roommates to see who you would all get along with best. you don't have to be besties, but agreeing on basic stuff is very helpful. you can pick and choose and edit whatever works for and is relevant to you.

guests

how often do you have guests over?

how often do you have overnight guests?

how would we handle extended guests (like friends visiting from out of town for a week and sleeping on the couch)?

keeping any sex in bedrooms only, are you ok with that?

schedule/noise

do you usually shower at night or in the morning?

what’s your work schedule? do you work from home?

what time is “quiet time” for you?

what time is too early to be making noticeable noise?

chores

what are your cleaning habits?

how clean do you want/need/expect common spaces to be?

what chores do you hate?

what chores do you actually enjoy?

how do you prefer to split up chores? do you prefer to rotate or keep the same chores consistently?

food/household supplies n shit

how often do you cook full meals?

do you have any dietary restrictions that would require special dishes that can't be contaminated (kosher, celiac, allergies, etc)?

would housemates be interested in sharing things that go bad quickly, like milk or produce?

how to split stuff like toilet paper, paper towels, trash bags, etc?

furniture/appliances/decor/general house stuff/etc

what stuff do you already have that you for sure want to keep/use?

ideal indoor temperature?

if you are planning on buying furniture, will you be splitting it between all housemates, or will each individual housemate contribute their own furniture? (it is easier to handle individual ownership when you move out, but it can be financially easier if you have to buy a lot of furniture to split it then when you move out whoever takes that piece of furniture would just reimburse the other housemates)

decor style?

do you have pets?

communication

communication style?

conflict resolution style?

how best to make a request?

how do you handle when you are frustrated with your roommate?

logical or illogical pet peeves?

i'm sure there's more that didn't make it onto this list, so anyone who has suggestions please reblog with them!

#ask avishai

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cator99 · 2 months

Text

I love making phone calls I love sending emails and being overall pleasant to interact with I love looking for solutions and being eager to understand how the world around me operates and to ask people about the role they play in this beautiful world I love being able to tell that other people are excited for any reason at all to strut their shit in this way and I always take notes on how they do it. It's all so funny to me. I am doing this because I am an insane person. I am the best person for the job. I am like the inverse of Jude St Francis. Born in a wet cardboard box doomed fucked in the head and forced to make an accommodation with life BUT I think its cunty and will commit awesomely violent ritual seppuku when my life is at its absolute peak. But yeah I dont get anxiety anymore if I dont like something it I can just thank them for their time and then find a way to leave and literally do anything else no one really cares as long as you do it right and you know like you can just keep looking for better things you literally never know you might turn out to be really passionate about fish mongering and didnt even consider it and it's not always easy but if the alternative is unbearable then fuck it pack a bag and stick your thumb out on the highway and spend 2 hours chatting about life with a fat 60 year old semi truck driver with photos of his happy fatty family plastered over the entirety of his dashboard and who was concerned why some kid was wandering the highway without a jacket and is nothing but totally kind and appropriate towards you which you kind of didnt expect when you hit the road but then you get to the city and go to an orgy party at some xi/xirs apartment who you met while on a psychiatrist-approved leave to attend an LGBT youth summer camp during the tail end of your 4 month stay at a youth mental health/detention facility but you can't stay there because his 40 year old housemate just announced that he's moving to the states and suddenly wouldnt be contributing to next months rent and didn't want to say anything until the night before when his boxes were being actively moved out of the apartment in order to avoid any sort of confrontation and the resulting altercation is heart breaking this 40 year old workig professional gay dude just absolutely betrayed this screwed up teenaged lesbian with no hesitation but maybe the drug fuelled sex parties had something to do with it but im just there stoned watching some tv show about anthropomorphic fast food and xe really did care about me but this was not the time to be pulling some cutesy whimsical runaway shit so we said our goodbyes and xe gave me directions the youth emergency shelter. As far as I was concerned, I was living the dream. This was just the "hard" part. I broke the high score on the ancient tetris machine at the day-shelter and barely ate anything because they relied entirely on donations and for whatever reason nobody thought to donate anything gluten free. I slept in the girls quarters of the cold shelter we were taken to every night, driven in huge vans by the staff at the day shelter. The girls were primarily quiet and didnt want to talk or even look at anyone. Some of the native girls were chill to play board games or watch tv with though. The guys were real rough. Mostly drug addicts. Mostly violent. They were known for treating each other terribly. I was told I could "use whatever rooms or washrooms that align with your gender identity". I told them I'd rather use the room that made me less likely to have me end up raped or my pillow pissed on.

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crookedkryptonitebeliever · 3 months

Text

Best and Worst of both worlds (part 7)

Tw: vomiting, sick reader, implications that the housemates r jerks before, imo boring chapter just some comfort for sickness times

Vote the poll down below n im gonna start making the next part after 20 votes

part 8

You can barely get out of bed.

That means you didn't get to clean up your post-exam clutter. Making the entire room miserable and almost unhabitable. You couldn't sleep because you had a terrible fever, needing to eat a couple of paracetamols to cool yourself down.

Anything that goes in your mouth comes back up. You wouldn't want to waste your food anymore, so you simply stopped eating.

You woke up to loud knocking, borderline banging on your door and to the voice of your housemate. She's yelling about someone being here to see you.

That can't be right. Why would anyone want to visit you? You're not asking this in a self depreciating way, but in a logical sense where you knew no one knew you're suffering from food poisoning.

Except...

Realization dawns upon you when you hear a series of softer knocks. You heard Yves's muffled voice from the outside, asking you to open the door for him.

You checked your phone. It's four in the afternoon. He should still be at the library, why is he here?

Then your focus went to the notification banner about the four missed calls he left.

"(Name)? It's Yves. You haven't been answering my calls. I'm worried about you."

The last person you want to see now is goddamn fucking Yves. Yesterday already took a toll on you, having him over is going to worsen the illness- if the fever didn't fry your brain, the stress would.

You refused to answer, covering your head with your pillow as he continued to knock.

Eventually though, he stopped. The walls are thin so you could hear him ask your housemate about you. She said you were hurling all night, keeping everyone awake. They witnessed you trying to eat a cooked packet of instant noodles, but you immediately threw it all up the moment you swallowed a forkful.

"I see." You hear him reply. "May I see the kitchen?" He asked.

She was taken aback by the request, a kitchen shared by 7 other students isn't going to be the cleanest. There was a pause before she told him that it was messy.

"That does not matter." He responded. You heard a sigh and she verbally told him to go ahead.

You're sure he knows what the condition of it is. He was there yesterday for the trash bags. You wonder what business he has there.

When you hear him walk away from your bedroom door, you force yourself and your aching muscles to creep out of your room. Planning to eavesdrop on his conversation.

"Is this all they eat?" His voice echoed through the hallway.

"Yes. I literally have never seen them eat anything else. Maybe the occasional cold pizza slice or two, but that's it. I don't think they even own a frying pan. Sometimes I wonder how that bastard is still alive." Ouch. A simple Yes would suffice. Why did she have to air your dirty laundry like that?

You heard the fridge open.

"Yeah, this was supposed to be their side of the fridge, but it was always empty. So we used it as a spare." Yves hummed in response.

You rushed back into your room when you heard his heels begin to strike the floor. Quietly shutting the door and tucking yourself into your bed.

Perhaps he's giving up, you're not coming out of your-

You stared wide eyed as the knob twisted by itself.

You forgot to lock your door. Shit, you fucking forgot to lock your door.

You heard one last set of calm knocking and Yves voice: "(name), I'm coming in."

He pushed it open and you see his tall, slender frame coming into view. His hair is flowy and luscious as usual, clear skin and pristine makeup on his beautiful face. While you look like crap. And your room looks like crap, you can barely see the floor.

You gape at the square of translucent hydrocolloid dressing on the back of his hand. Looks like his burn yesterday started to blister.

"Damn! You live like this?" Your housemate expressed her disbelief when her eyes landed on the clothes, indiscernible between used and washed, strewn all over the place. The opened drawers and stacks of empty cups.

You hid under your blanket, you told her to shut up and get the fuck out of your room.

"Alright, you're a grump cause you're sick. But just so you know, you're still on garbage duty this week." She responded.

You groan, telling her that you knew that already. You told her to go away. But she doesn't respect you, none of your housemates do.

"Could you excuse us, please?" Yves politely dismissed her. She agrees and leaves your room immediately. Yves closes the door to maintain some privacy.

You remained hidden under the sheets, not wanting him to see you so vulnerable.

"You poor thing." He sighed. You felt the bed dip as he sat on the edge. He gently peeled the blanket off your head, using the other hand to stroke your hair.

"You haven't eaten today, have you?" The fingers running through your grimy hair was... comforting. Too comforting, perhaps. You involuntarily started tearing up and crying, being reminded of a simpler time in your life. It brought back the feelings of security and safety, which you haven't felt in such a long while. You forgot how it felt, and it felt extremely good.

He stopped his caresses, but rested his hand on your scalp.

You told him you didn't mean to weep. You had no idea what has gotten into you. However, you're sure you're crying because of the state of your room and how two people had to see it- which includes someone with opinions you value very much: Yves.

He continued his affectionate touches as tears kept falling from your eyes.

No further words were exchanged between the two of you. Yves kept you company until you fell asleep from his rhythmic stroking. He pressed a kiss on your forehead before standing back up.

Yves sets his bag on your bed, he gets to work picking up stray articles of clothing from the floor. He dropped them all into your laundry basket in a messy pile.

Yves picked it up with no effort and carried it on his hip. He left your room and headed towards the basement, where the dryers and washing machines are kept. He knows where it is despite no one ever telling him.

You woke up with a jolt, thinking that Yves intruding your room was just a crazy fever dream.

Except, the presence of his unique luxury bag is right next to you. Scanning your surroundings, you definitely can tell Yves made his mark here.

You can see the floor again, you didn't know that it's that shiny and clean. All your clothes are missing and the corners are clear of any old trash. Everything you own is organized neatly, the shelves are displaying their respective categories in order. Your desk was wiped down and your textbooks arranged by colour.

Your room is unrecognizable, it wasn't even this nice when you first moved in.

Yves is nowhere to be found. You weakly got up and dragged yourself to the door. Locking yourself in and Yves out.

You always wondered what is in that bag. It seems to be carrying an impossible amount of items. Though, he uses a briefcase for his laptop and notes on weekdays, it's impressive that he managed to fit an umbrella in this small bag among other things.

You opened it and began rummaging through.

A lipstick, a compact mirror, disposable wet wipes, a hydrating facial spray, dry facial tissues, a hairbrush, his phone, a tin of breath mints, his oddly thin wallet- it made sense, the rich wouldn't carry around wads of cash. Only cards; An army Swiss knife, bandaids, a rectangle of a foldable grocery bag...

A set of keys attached to his car fob, a pen, some unidentifiable medication; it's printed in a foreign language, a case containing his reading glasses, another case that contains his sunglasses, portable eating utensils, a bottle of hand sanitizer, disinfectant spray, a power bank, charging cables, a portable fan, a hand fan, electronic ear buds, ear plugs...

Your jaw dropped in disbelief as you kept finding more things; perfume, a scrunchie, a couple of hair ties, sun screen, ointment, his reusable stainless steel thermal cup, lip balm, a face mask, portable paper soap, a stack of sticky notes and of course, an umbrella.

You dug deeper and found out that he's also hiding a scarf in there!

All that with heaps of space to spare, it doesn't look bulky from outside or in. You tried lifting it up by the handles, but it felt like you were trying to lift a barbell with one hand. It was bizarre how he could find what he wanted in the nick of time with all these things. Granted, it was neatly partitioned before you searched through it- oh. You messed up his system.

Shit! You're going to embarrass yourself again!

Well, you still have time. The door is locked and he isn't here yet, you could try putting it back.

You heard the door knob rattle. That must be him, he can't possibly get in right?

Your blood turned to ice when you heard the jingling of some keys. Of course, it's Yves. He would know to take your own keys with him. You heard him unlock your door.

You panicked and tried to hop out of bed, so you could barricade the door with something. But while doing so, you knocked the bag off the bed and made the contents of it spill out.

You let out a distressed yelp, his ten million things spread out all over the floor, some rolled under your bed.

"Did I startle you? I apologize." He came in with a laundry basket filled with freshly washed clothes. They're dry and warm to the touch. The basket looks noticeably clean too. Did he scrub it down? The dust and mold are gone, it went back to looking brand new.

You began apologizing, saying that you didn't mean to knock his bag down. You saw that as a potential escape from getting caught snooping around.

"No, it was my fault to leave it near the edge. It was bound to fall." He set the basket down and calmly began picking his belongings off the floor.

You let out a discrete sigh of relief. You're off the hook.

But obviously he knows what you did. His scarf shouldn't even be out of his bag, as he packed it at the bottom. His keys, lipstick and wallet should be the first to leave, yet it remained safely in the toppled bag because you flipped everything upside down while being a nosy person.

Plus, it was zipped up in the first place.

If he didn't want you peering in, he would have hidden it under your bed.

You got down on your knees and helped him collect the items. You dumped it back into the handbag, but Yves nonchalantly pulled it all back out to organize them himself.

"Thank you." He stood back up and securely placed it on your nightstand.

He turned to you and crowded you against the bed. Yves slid his hands under your chin, where the pulse is, checking your temperature by touch. You flinch and squirm because you're ticklish, but he paid no mind to it.

"You're having a fever." He noted. You release a baited breath when he lets you go, reaching for something inside his handbag.

You watch him unscrew the lid of his thermos cup. There isn't any particular Colour to the liquid. But there was a faint fruity scent emanating from it. The ice cubes bob around the mystery fluid. He also produced a metal straw which he plunged into the drink, you must have missed it when you were rummaging through.

He popped two tablets of paracetamol out of a blister pack and brought them to your lips. It's better to just let him feed you, so you took it in your mouth.

"Take small sips." He brought the straw to you.

The beverage is... salty. And sweet. It's sickeningly fragrant for a drink that's supposed to be enjoyable. Except it's not, it's an electrolyte solution he prepared to make up for the ones you lost. The coldness saved it.

You didn't realize how thirsty you were, he placed the cup in your hands before walking back to the laundry hamper. He opened a drawer and began folding your clothes into a neat stack.

You're starting to think he just likes silence. He has a perfectly functioning pair of expensive earbuds, but he doesn't use them neither does he want to initiate a conversation with you.

You put your drink away and flopped down onto your bed. You picked up your phone and decided to check your notifications.

You received a number of messages from the group chat with your housemates.

"(name) u gotta get ur bestie to visit more cuz this is the cleanest the kitchen has ever been!!!"

Attached to it is a series of before and after pictures of the entire house. You almost couldn't recognize the place, it was tidy and sparkling clean.

The rest of your housemates agreed in text, telling you that he was such a pleasant conversationalist.

"oh ya idk if hes still here but he made a massive pot of congee for u, its a fuckin banger u should try it" "Damn u lucky as hel to have him take out da trash on ur behalf, that shit was nasty and he did it without gloves too" "His car is still outside, he has got to be here." "oh shiiiittt hes gotta be LOADEDDD with a hot ride like that. where did u find him??" "Omg!! I need his recipe!! Can you ask him for it, pretty please, (name)? Maybe his number too??" "lawlz not u being hornyz on main" "lmaoo fuckin simp" "im not!! :(( he's just so sweet and handsome, im not stealing their man or anything, i just wanna get to know him!! you guys are just mean!!" "whatever u say president desperate"

You read all their text messages that devolved into banterings, looks like all your housemates know him now. You wonder what he talked about with them. What was there to talk about?

You were brought back to reality when you heard him shut the draw. He left your room once more to retrieve something.

Your phone pinged, alerting you of another text message.

"BRUH hes really still here"

Shortly after, you received a picture taken in the kitchen. Looks like the photographer tried to be subtle from its angle.

The photo showed Yves's back as he scoops something from a pot into a bowl, using a metal ladle.

"shit (name) how did u pull such a fine man It's literally 9pm rn" "What time did he come here tho?? Ik i came home at 6 and i saw him mopping the floor" "like 4pm" "FIVE HOURS ?? (NAME) TELL UR BESTIE HES WELCOME HERE ANYTIME WE WILL OPEN THE DOOR FOR HIM"

At least they seem to be less of pricks to you than before, all thanks to Yves. But it's such a shame that it took a good-looking servicing stranger to get them to act nice towards you.

"(Name), you have to eat something." You looked up from your cracked screen to see Yves holding a bowl of steamy congee. He pulled the chair from your desk and sat next to your bed.

"Sit up straight." He caressed the small of your back. You complied with his command while he stacked your pillows to make a backrest.

It has a mild, pleasantly savoury aroma.

He fed you by the spoonful agonizingly slow, you're horrified that you're now used to this gesture. It isn't something you feel flustered about, it just feels... right. It feels normal and it's as if he's done this for your entire life.

You're getting more comfortable with him and that scares the fuck out of you.

You're surprised that it's not making you want to hurl, the meal is actually bettering your stomach and you wanted to eat more even after finishing the entire bowl. It's definitely bland in your dictionary, since it's only seasoned with salt, pepper and freshly made chicken stock. But it was heavenly. And its the only thing you can stomach now.

You asked for more. You were shocked when your request is denied.

"You're full. You are going to vomit if I give you more. That's enough for now, I'll give you another bowl an hour later." He dabbed the corners of your mouth with a facial tissue.

You froze.

He is right. You are full. You wanted more because it tasted great, but you would have thrown it all up again.

It's eerie how he knows you better than you know yourself. And this is only the third time you have spoken to him. This doesn't seem right, does it?

Yves left your room once more to keep the dishes away. Predictably, the group chat blew up with astonished reactions that Yves appeared right before their eyes again.

You massaged your forehead, wondering if you should have been a bit more firm in saying no to Yves. But he just makes you so weak against him.

You checked the time and the digits turned from 9:59pm to 10:00pm.

It's getting very late.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere male #yandere concept #tw yandere #yandere x you #yandere oc x reader #male yandere oc x reader #oc yves #oc Montgomery

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