#no full name tag for him bc i feel like i was a little bit rude to him in this

[eichisnewgroove]

Eichi's "Left Hand": An Archetypal Analysis of Wataru Hibiki's Role

Well, specifically of Wataru as Eichi's left hand, anyway. There's way too much ground to cover for Wataru's archetype to do it in one post.

The ruler's "right hand" is a pretty common archetype and trope that you're all probably familiar with. The "left hand," less common, shows up in different places as well.

The "right hand man" is defined by Merriam-Webster as "a very important assistant who helps someone do a job." The term comes from archetypal understandings of the function of the "right hand" which have evolved over the last centuries. In general, because most people are right-handed, the right hand has been favoured across many cultures, associated with luck and goodness.

The right hand is traditionally the hand which holds the sword, and so it is associated with action; the "right-hand man" enacts the will of the king. In his description of "the king/queen" archetype, J. E. Sandoval writes:

The sword represents power over life and death, as well as defense against those that threaten the greater order.

This is the exact role that Keito takes in Enstars. When Eichi is ill at the beginning of the year in ES!, Keito takes it upon himself to ensure that the school does not fall into disorder, tightening his hold on students and making the regulations very strict. He does this for the purpose of securing Eichi's place on Yumenosaki's "throne" while Eichi is away, and once Eichi returns, this is still frequently the role that Keito plays.

The right hand represents Deity. The aggressive hand, hand of growth and strength. Right hand laid on a person conveys authority, blessings, power, strength. Right hand lifted to heaven, and oath, swearing.

(Gertrude Jobes, Dictionary of Mythology, Folklore, and Symbols, quoted here)

The king depends on the right hand for recognition of his power and authority; the right hand is his strength and the one who exercises his will.

On the other hand (lol), the left has often historically been treated to unfavourable interpretations. Left-handed people have historically been discriminated against in many cultures and even forced to learn to use their right hands rather than their lefts.

In symbolism the body is divided vertically into halves, the right half being considered as light and the left half as darkness. [...] the light half was denominated spiritual and the left half material. Light is the symbol of objectivity; darkness of subjectivity. [...] darkness is considered as the veil which must eternally conceal the true nature of abstract and undifferentiated Being. ... several early nations used the right hand for all constructive labors and the left hand for only those purposes termed unclean and unfit for the sight of the gods. For the same reason black magic was often referred to as the left-hand path, and heaven was said to be upon the right and hell upon the left.

(Manly P Hall, The Secret Teachings of All Ages)

We see this reflected in the "narrative" created by Eichi and Keito. Keito is a member of the student council, the force of justice and order at Yumenosaki Academy, and the vice-president, cementing his role as Eichi's second in command. Wataru, by contrast, is one of the "Oddballs," who were castigated by the student council and made enemies of the public at Yumenosaki. Wataru plays the role of a "jester," associated with trickery and mischief, and Keito constantly fears that Wataru will corrupt Eichi.

The right hand bravely holds the sword, whereas the left hand does the ruler's "dirty work" in the darkness. Wataru is a member of fine, and is frequently treated to being part of Eichi's unsavoury business - trying to buy up Hokuto from Trickstar, threatening Ra*bits, and facing off against Wataru's own friends in UNDEAD and Valkyrie. The student council enacts "order" in the school through rules and regulations, and creates the guidelines by which students are subject to judgment (DreamFes participation is reflected in grades, for example). fine, on the other hand, is how Eichi threatens others using their status as a peer unit rather than by invoking the student council's authority. He challenges and uses underhanded methods to get others to compete against him, and really gets into the thick of the "battles" on the stage.

In the ES! Main Story, Eichi compares Wataru to Mephistopheles, a charming demon who (seemingly) reluctantly lured Doctor Faustus down a path of corruption and to hell, after Wataru threatens his plans for Trickstar. Eichi's plans were cruel, but they were done in the name of the student council, and so Wataru was like Mephistopheles in that he was pulling Eichi away from his own "just" decree and imperial edict.

Wataru is often the one who commentates on Eichi's tyranny - he refers to him as a tyrant, to start with, but also lauds praise upon him for his majesty and ruthlessness.

You are definitely not "evil"! You are "justice", and yet you commit atrocities and greedily devour the tears and dreams of others! Love and hatred! Hope and despair! Dreams and nightmares! You have achieved a way of life that is contradictory and conflicting!

(Ensemble Stars! Novel Adaptation, translation by maluridae)

The left hand has also been associated historically with the feminine, because it was often the hand that held the shield while the right held the sword. In China, the right hand is associated with the masculine yang, strength, and war; and the left hand is associated with the feminine yin, and honour (Carla Huffman).

... as the source of Being is in the primal darkness which preceded light, so the spiritual nature of man is in the dark part of his being, for the heart is on the left side.

(Manly P Hall, The Secret Teachings of All Ages)

Part of what makes the left hand so fearsome and threatening is that it's connected to the "heart." The honourable right hand which lives in the light does not know the truths concealed in the king's darkness. Femininity has historically been associated with chaos, emotion, and "touch," whereas masculinity is associated with rationality, order, and and "vision" (I don't have a source on hand for this one but I got my Bachelor's and Master's degrees in gender studies so just take my word for it; I'm sure it's easy to look up). The right hand is the sword and the "all-seeing eye" which dispassionately and honourably enacts justice; and the left hand guards the heart and represents desire, intimacy, and unpredictability.

The left hand has the potential to unravel the power of the king because it appeals to his heart.

Wataru plays this role so, so many times throughout Enstars. In one of their first conversations (which Eichi may have imagined, but it doesn't make a difference symbolically, because it still represents what Wataru is to Eichi), Wataru asks Eichi if he's meant to be the villain who dies or the princess who embraces him with a kiss. Eichi tells Wataru that he struggles to imagine him losing, and confesses that it pains him to see Wataru in this position even though Eichi is the one who put him in it (Element).

When Eichi tries to tear Trickstar apart, invoking his position as the Student Council President to pull Hokuto into fine, Wataru gives Hokuto a letter from his grandmother encouraging him to hold fast to his dreams. Eichi is famously angry about this, and his expression of it is incredibly intimate:

He lightly runs his fingertips through Wataru's long silver hair and, like a child throwing a temper tantrum, suddenly grabs it. With a grip so tight that Wataru's hair could possibly tear, Eichi brings his face so close that they look like they are about to kiss. He's like a woman who has gone mad with jealousy.

(Ensemble Stars! Novel Adaptation, translation by maluridae)

After some back and forth between the two, Wataru says to him:

"That is how you wished for this to unfold, yes?" Whispered to him like a fallen angel, Eichi does not react to his words; he reluctantly stays silent. He always speaks so fluently, so it's rare to see him have such trouble coming up with a reply.

(Ensemble Stars! Novel Adaptation, translation by maluridae)

This quote shows that Wataru knows what's truly in Eichi's heart and that his actions are motivated by this. Subaru asks Eichi later in Main Story why he created an opportunity to be defeated in the first place, and Eichi admits to him:

Hehe, I sure wonder why... I might have wanted to see it happen. A miracle. To see your shine that enables you to overcome any fate, no matter how hopeless it may seem. To see your limitless potential. I was born with a weak body. I've cursed the gods countless times. However, if somehow a miracle can happen in this world... if there's hope, if there's love... Then I'd also be able to love this world. That might have been what I was thinking. You can't be an idol with only love. However, if you don't have love, you aren't qualified to be an idol. I just, simply... wanted to become an idol.

(Ensemble Stars! Main Story, translation by Freddie24f)

Wataru knows what Eichi wants before Eichi knows what he wants, and he ensures that Eichi will get it even if it means doing things that Eichi doesn't like in the moment. This is the defining pattern of their entire relationship. It is the exact reason why, in the hospital before their DreamFes, Wataru says to Eichi:

I am not quite sure if it is because the script is just simply awful or not, but it is difficult to see what part I have in this! [...] I do not know whether I should be stabbed by a knife and die while letting out a scream of death and agony, or give an embrace and a kiss!

(Element, translation by Shoe/maluridae)

That what Eichi really wants is intimacy and love is obvious to Wataru, despite all of Eichi's posturing as though he wants Wataru to be the villain. Wataru lets him keep his narrative, but joins fine shortly afterward. In Diner Live, Wataru baits and then switches Eichi by challenging Knight Killers to a "showdown" against Träumerei, only to surprise him by turning the performance into a joint live and switching out all the penlights which the audience was supposed to use to vote into ones that emit rainbow light, representing togetherness. When the live is over, he tells Eichi that his real motive was to express his desire for the two of them to keep performing together as equals and stay together in the future. Eichi agrees and tells Wataru that this is his true dream too.

Wataru grants the wishes Eichi can only make in his heart, the ones that are too unconscious and in the dark to articulate - and it is the role of the "left" to know the unconscious desires that the heart conceals.

Because of this, the left hand has influence over the king that the right hand does not. The right hand is blunt, offensive, the upright "hand of justice." When the right hand and the king are not on the same page, when they disagree, it undermines the king's power and causes tension and friction, but the right hand does not have much ability to influence the king to change. The right hand is unsubtle and doesn't speak directly to the king's heart. The right hand and the king must be in sync to secure the king's authority.

This is why, in the ES! Main Story, when Keito disagrees with Eichi's methods in breaking Trickstar up, he basically can't change Eichi's mind. He ends up undermining Eichi's intent instead by permitting and even encouraging Mao to leave Akatsuki and rejoin Trickstar. When the right hand is out of sync with the ruler, he takes on a quality that is hypocritical or mutinous, either resentfully enacting the ruler's will despite his own wishes, or betraying and actively acting against the ruler's will with the blunt force of the sword. These tensions culminate in Quarrel Festival, when Eichi challenges Keito to a straight up fight and threatens to disband Akatsuki, forcing Keito to acknowledge his own will and push back against Eichi. Ultimately, Keito explains that he does not feel bound by Eichi to any further extent than what he would want, but expresses that it was a relief to vent his frustration with the decisions Eichi sometimes makes.

The left hand, by contrast, is subtle, and can speak to the king's heart. This is why Wataru can influence Eichi while remaining at his side; in Jingle Bells, Wataru expresses disappointment with how Eichi handles Tori, and Eichi, although defensive, immediately reflects on how he should change his approach. Wataru's involvement in the ES! Main Story is another example of this. Eichi may become angry with him, but Wataru speaks directly to his deep desires, leaving Eichi speechless and subject to his influence.

The right hand depends on the ruler for its position and purpose, and the ruler depends on the right hand for its authority and power. The left hand, however, speaks to the heart and flows from the heart, and so it can act independently and exert influence.

A conflict with Keito is between Eichi's ideals and Keito's; a conflict between Eichi and Wataru is between Eichi's own actions and his own principles. When Keito betrays Eichi, it's because they don't agree. When Wataru betrays Eichi, it's because Eichi has betrayed himself.

Sandoval, continuing his description of the king/queen archetype, writes:

The king/queen archetype is, on the whole, not pacifist. It is always prepared to establish "justice", or order, by whatever means necessary. But because of this, it also requires a counterbalance from its opposite side - the idealistic heart [...] The king/queen archetype, if left to itself, can fall into a state of tyranny where the same power originally used to safeguard the city from harm eventually becomes the greatest harm to the city. Due to the natural passage of time, the king's commands eventually become outdated and dysfunctional as the world around him changes. If they are not revisited, via a return to the pure ideal that they were aiming to uphold, the king's reign will collapse. The role of the [...] compass, is to check the king/queen's values and character to ensure fitness to rule and to redirect them to their northern star.

As Eichi's right hand, Keito is the one who enacts Eichi's vision of justice/order. But as his left hand, Wataru keeps Eichi in touch with his true desires and ideals and subtly redirects him back onto his path while staying at his side and helping him do his "dirty work." Where Keito carries the sword, Wataru is a rogue at Eichi's side, understanding more than he lets on and performing sleights of hand and illusions that charm him and guide him.

As the carrier of the sword, Keito's role is comparable to the archetype of a knight. Wataru's role is closer to that of confidante - connoting "confidence"/someone you "confide in." The right hand doesn't necessarily have to be one person; it could be an army. The left hand is always one person; it connotes specialness and secrecy.

This is the archetypal pair that is regarded from the outside with suspicion. The ruler and right hand are "easy to understand." The ruler and the left hand have a special closeness that causes rumours to fly about temptation, corruption, and secret love affairs.

When Keito pleads with Eichi to get rid of Wataru, Eichi tells him:

If you're my right hand, then Wataru's my left. It'd be a shame if I got rid of either just yet... ♪

(Circus, translation by Enstars Translates)

In this quote, Eichi suggests to Keito that if Wataru is expendable, Keito is too. However, it's important to note that Eichi is actually left-handed, a point that Wataru actually comments on:

He calls himself "Eichi's right hand"! Even though Eichi is left-handed - how interesting! Ahh, interpreting those sentiments surrounding this matter gives me such a fuzzy feeling... ☆

(The Flag's Honor ＊ Flower Festival, translation by Shoe/maluridae)

Flower Fes was written by Akira, and so the symbolism behind Eichi's left-handedness with Wataru as his left and Keito as his right is definitely intentional. When Eichi suggests to Keito that he's subject to being gotten rid of as much as Wataru is, he is not suggesting that Keito and Wataru are equal. The loss of Eichi's left hand would be more detrimental to Eichi than the loss of his right. As much as Eichi loves and appreciates Keito, and has no desire to get rid of him, he needs Wataru in a different way than he needs Keito, and if he were to get rid of either of them, he would probably get rid of Keito first. (And indeed, he does try to push Keito away in Quarrel Festival, whereas he and Wataru are in the same unit and declare their intentions to keep performing together into the future).

Theories about the left and right brain also further illustrate their specific positions. The right hand is controlled by the left brain, which is associated with logic, math, and structure. The left hand is controlled by the right brain, which is associated with creativity and art. Keito represents "discipline" in Eichi's life, structure, order, safety, security, and the masculine values mentioned above. Wataru represents Eichi's creativity and imagination with his magic, and the two perform together as artists. Being left-handed, Eichi is more firmly planted in the creative side, despite his role of representing order in Yumenosaki Academy as part of the student council with Keito.

As Eichi's "left hand," Wataru fulfills a major role in Eichi's life; namely, that of representing his heart. Despite being associated with the darkness and looked on with suspicion, Wataru knows Eichi's heart and his unconscious desires. Independent from Eichi's will, Wataru is able to remind and guide Eichi on the basis of his principles, and subtly influence Eichi in ways that push him to grow and be his best self. He is Eichi's confidante, and, owing to Eichi's left-handedness, the person that Eichi would be most reluctant to get rid of. He is the unpredictable chaos that Eichi craves, capable of unraveling Eichi's best laid plans, and, because he knows Eichi's heart, Eichi knows that when he does unravel them, it's because that's what's best for Eichi.

Of course. I trust you more than anyone in this world, including myself. Also, I wouldn't mind a betrayal - if it's from you. I wouldn't care even if you did anything awful to me. Is this feeling love, as the others call it?

(Eichi in Tempest, official English Ensemble! Stars translation)

#analysis #wataru #wataru hibiki #wataei #eiwata #eichi tenshouin #eichi #keito #no full name tag for him bc i feel like i was a little bit rude to him in this #ink spills #anyway why am i posting this at 10 pm

[simpjaes]

ONE OF THE DAMNED GIRLS PT.1 (P.SH)

Moving to a city with wild nights and charming days felt like the perfect choice in your head upon finishing college. Hours away from home, you accept a job at a local museum ironically placed dead between a large historic cathedral and a booming gothic nightclub. You were meant to curate the art, not be curated yourself by a local priest who found you with buckled knees outside of said goth club. ― part two here!! | MINORS DNI

PAIRING ― vampire park sunghoon x afab reader  

WORDCOUNT ― 20.4k

CONTENT ―  modern vampire sunghoon, cathedral/chapel settings, blasphemous behavior, false holy facades, the main vampire trope i use is the act of drinking blood, luring, and living forever, heavy manipulation and toxic behaviors, mentions of reader being alt/goth

SIDE CHARACTERS―  jungwon as your very very best friend who has an installation at the museum (you guys are attached at the hip), jay as the hot bisexual bartender at the goth club, some goth guy named balor 

!WARNINGS! ― dubious consent (due to the act of mind manipulation), hunting and playing victim, a lot of blood: blood sucking, wounds/puncturing, menstruation in a sexual light, manipulation, near-death experiences, fainting, talk of death, acts of mind control/luring 

NOTE ― here is part one of the first vampire fic i've ever felt compelled to write in my life. shout out to me, myself, and i for being entirely deranged and coming up with on a whim based on a song a lovely anon sent to me. this is semi-proof read, and does require two parts to get the full story.

tags under cut

smut tags [ these tags refer to both parts of the fic] ― big meat sunghoon, biting, A LOT OF BLOOD, sucking and drinking of blood obv, pussy eating (once while reader is menstruating, and another time where she isn’t), deep penetration, rough sex, unprotected sex bc like…he’s dead so lmfao, missionary, scratching, dirty talk, body worship, praise, jungwon is involved in a bit of an erotic situation but there is not smut involving him, 

other tags [ these tags refer to both parts of the fic]― depictions of death, anti-religious language, the act of dying including intense descriptions of the feeling, mentions of pimping and human trafficking, corrupt government, dead nuns, funerals

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Upon moving to this city, all you have in your mind is the future. Of what could possibly come of you here? The museum is truly beautiful, propped in the center of the historic district, a mere ten or so blocks from your newly renovated apartment. 

Years worth of study has led you here and honestly you’re sure you never would have found this city as lovable as it is if it weren’t for those credit hours you poured into art history and architecture. Truly, you feel at home here. Especially working within the historic district at that beautiful museum. 

The rest of the city is quite modern. A bit boring to look at if you’re being honest but, thankfully, your place of work offers much for the eye to devour. The museum itself is quite victorian, with rococo styling throughout. Many could call this an eye sore, but you find yourself loving every inch of the place. You feel like a willow wisp in the clutches of that museum, and honestly you’re more than excited to grow bored of seeing such beauty on a day to day basis. 

Across the street sits another old building, also victorian in style. The large and tacky sign glowing with neon lights that reads “AFTER LIFE” goes to show that it’s very clearly a club. And the attire of those who go to and fro through the doors only further proves that it’s more than just that. It’s a goth club. 

Which, arguably, high-school you would’ve died to be able to attend. Thankfully, that little goth girl inside of you still lives strong and surely the club will be a place you’ll frequent during your free time. It’s not too hard to dress the part considering you are an art loser. The majority of your clothing consists of black, colored hair, and wild make up anyway. All you gotta do is forego the ratty coveralls or the typical business quirky you go for at work and you’re good to go. 

Last but not least regarding the charm of the historic district, your favorite site. One that is so profound to you and likely everyone else who visits this town mostly because, well, there isn’t much mention of it on any website regarding the city. In fact, you weren’t aware that such a place existed here until the day you came to view your apartment for the first time. 

Seeing it loom from the apartment window very nearly had you sign the lease without so much as looking at the cabinet space or the bathroom setup. 

No, nothing in that historic district, absolutely nothing in this city, rivals that of the cathedral that towers above both the club and museum. 

There, parked just three blocks down from your place of work, sits the cathedral. Clearly old but well maintained, you can just tell that the building has seen more than enough through the passing decades. The arches are pointed and towering, and the flying buttresses only further your heart to beat with love and admiration for what men could build at one point in time. 

You’ll never understand why the preferred style these days consists of primary shapes, anyway. Boxes, cones, spheres. Never twisting hallways or nooks and crannies to hide in. You miss the depth of which buildings used to be. Inside practically a maze, outside a wondrous presentation of knife-sharp features. So intricate, so many lines to trace.

What a shame to find yourself living in a space that’s a mish-mash of perfect boxes, but it’s not so bad when the window offers a daydream, at least. 

You’re in love each time you gaze upon the building, actually. It’s a forever reminder that no human being on this earth could make you feel such excitement. Perhaps you’re just a nerd for gothic architecture though. Honestly, it’s a shame that this cathedral seems to be a forgotten gem despite how it’s blatantly visible at almost any view point in the city. 

Fortunately for you, this only goes to show that the historic district is just that. There for those who admire, and not for those who gawk. There seems to be rarely any stray humans making their way down this street without at least an inkling of interest in the ancient life that’s been breathed here. 

If anything, the streets are filled with what you can assume to be open-minded individuals. Your first day at work showed that much. Tattooed bodies, pierced faces, wild hair, even wilder attire. Yes, you feel right at home. 

And despite the excitement of living in a new city where you seem to fit like a puzzle piece, life can still grow boring after a certain amount of time has passed. For you, it’s taken about three weeks of training, well-slept nights, and cozy days. 

Even through the summer, the nights still have a chill in the air. Which is nice but even your night-time walks have become an auto-pilot task that offers nothing new to your forever hungry brain. So, with the weekend fast approaching, you figure there’s no better time than now to dust off those hot platform boots you bought on a whim years ago and have yet to wear. 

You’re going to the booming “after life”. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Well.

“After life” is certainly a perfect name for the club if the intensity of the drinks alone is anything to go by. Inside is adorned with stark black walls and silver trim, loads upon loads of purple and red curtains, women and men near-nude wrapped in straps and chains. 

It only took two drinks to see the black painted walls as a beautiful void in space with wonderful dancing bodies falling into it. You can’t stop smiling through the warmth in your cheeks and dancing to deep bass with husky voiced music. Your arms stay in the air as you dance, and you welcome any dancing partner up until your third drink. 

God, the drinks are strong. Or perhaps it’s just the specific drink you’ve grown partial to. One they call “Red Death”, which according to the handsome bartender, was quite popular in the 90s. You see exactly why it was so popular, considering it basically hit you like a fucking truck in the middle of this club and has you stumbling out the front door without so much as remembering why your feet are moving in the first place. 

Unsure of how much time has passed since you got here, you nearly forget the extra five inches under your feet as you stumble your way through the heavy doors in front of the club. A kind bouncer with the whites of his eyes tattooed helps you with your balance as you step out, chuckling and noting that you’re definitely new here.

His strong hold on you is kind and gentle compared to the bouncers outside of the clubs back home, and despite how drunk you are, you still feel as safe as you do inside of your own apartment when he gives you a small “woah there.”

Thankfully, he keeps to himself after helping you regain balance, once again unlike most bouncers at clubs. You’re left to your own drunken plans now as you wobble around the building in search of a bench to sit on and sober up. Thankfully, that very bench is found sitting lonely on the backside of the building. You can still hear the muffled music from inside, but you’re currently spinning and able to hear just about anything, you think. 

You hear your ass thump to the ground when you try to take a seat, missing the bench completely and falling a full two feet with your head hitting the bricked wall behind you. 

Honestly, all you can do is laugh at yourself as you hold your head. The fall didn’t hurt, and thank fuck no one is around to have witnessed that from you. To think your senses are enhanced at this moment is quite a feat, considering you were so focused on hearing everything that you completely forgot to determine which of the two benches in your drunken vision was the real one.

And as you accept your seat on the ground as the space you’ll sober up in, your senses prove yet again to at least be slightly more amplified than usual. 

A heavy scent of cinnamon wafts through your nose as you breathe in the brisk summer air and immediately you try to adjust your eyes to whatever the scent is coming from. Or, whoever.

Then, a cold hand on your shoulder. You didn’t even see him before smelling or feeling him, but somehow, your vision adjusts immediately as if you’re not drunk at all.

In fact, looking at the man is entirely sobering. 

“Child, temptation has you by the throat.”

“I’m no child.” You scoff at the voice reaching your ears, frustrated as you try to chase the fizzling drunk feeling. A waste of money, you could say, to lose the dizzy feeling so fucking fast. 

The man stands in front of you, clad in black, offering a gentle smile. 

You can imagine you look a mess, sitting on the ground outside of a night club, but that should be expected you’d think. 

“It’s a figure of speech.” The man shrugs with a chuckle. “Now, now. Allow me to help you, my dear, you are in no shape to be left to your own devices.”

You look up at him, noting that the man appears to be a priest. What kind of priest wanders around goth clubs this time of the night? 

Then again, you don’t even know what time it is. What you do know is that you’re nearly entirely sober now for some fucking reason, and you absolutely can be left to your own devices. 

“No, I’m fine. I don’t live too far.” You shake your head at him, but he pulls you up anyway. 

Oh, a rush of woozy nausea. Your ankles buckle immediately upon trying to stand and the man simply keeps his smile aimed at you. 

“My conscience will not allow me to leave you be.” He says, taking your arm and leading you further down the street.

You’re unsure as to why you don’t fight him on it now. There’s a feeling in your body that tells you to go with him, and who are you to fight it? 

Strangely enough, your eyes sparkle as he leads you straight to that very cathedral that floods your thoughts on most weekdays during work. So big, so beautiful, so otherworldly to see so closely. 

You stare up at the towering building even as he helps you through the doors, and then your eyes immediately adjust to the vaulted ceilings and darkened stained glass windows with only the moonlight shining through. 

God, it’s more beautiful inside. 

You’re entirely mesmerized by the building, blinking up at every inch of the walls and ceiling. It’s pristine inside compared to the outside, and the floors shine so beautifully even in the low-light. Your boots stomp with each step against the well-maintained floors, to the point you can feel the vibrations running from your toes to the top of your head. 

You can feel your skin tighten at the viewing experience, every hair on your body raising in euphoria, pupils growing wide and dark. You smile, feeling your face flush as if you’ve got a man between your legs. There is no man though though, no. Just big arches and echoed footsteps.

It’s simply too beautiful to comprehend with a semi-drunken brain for the first time. 

The man saunters through the building with you in tow a bit too quickly than you’d prefer though. You try to soak in the image of the main chapel before he leads you away from it, and thankfully you caught a decent look at the gold and silver adornments surrounding a centered altar. The figure within the altar didn’t quite get more than a glance, but you could have sworn it was no religious figure that you know the name of. 

And then, within three blinks, you’re in a corridor where whispering nuns look on. Their voices sound high-pitched even in a whisper but it slows your heart rate down to that of near sleep. Drowsiness overtakes you as you blink out of sync, barely able to comprehend that you should be at home rather than in this wondrous and magnificent building with a strange priest. 

Still, even as the corridor grows less and less extravagant, where the stomping of your boots on the floor turns to that of breaking up dust and weighing down creaking wood, you find it all the more beautiful behind your heavy-lidded eyes.

The deeper into the cathedral you go, the older it becomes. Where electricity turns to candles, and then candles turn to pure moonlight shining through stained glass windows. 

Even up the spiraling concrete stairs, you feel your feet carry you more than the priest with his back turned to you. He wouldn’t need to lead you through this building at all, as the feeling in your gut would likely have you explore the place inch by inch if you were given the permission. 

Still, even while your mind is sober but your body is drunk, you find it hard to believe that people still reside here. Never once seeing anyone come from the cathedral since being in this city. And trust, you have honestly stared at it day after day during work. 

That means nothing to you now though, considering you’re inside the building, being led to a small room for sleep where your sleepy eyes devour the small bed against the wall.

The man who led you here lends no more words or thoughts to you as he steps inside, presents the room to you, and then quickly leaves with that same smile he gave you outside of the club. 

A nun replaces him with light and silent footsteps, running past you to fluff the flattened pillow on the bed. Another came in behind her with a small bowl of crackers and a glass of water. She holds out the bowl and glass, urging you to take them from her. 

Naturally, you do. Popping a cracker into your mouth and instantly feeling it soak up any saliva in your mouth, leaving it feeling dry and sore before you sip the water. And with a nod from the two nuns, they leave you be. 

This room appears to be that for refuge, surely for those the church takes in when they’re in need of a warm bed and some food. 

You smile, saying nothing as you sit down on the bed and place the glass and bowl on the small ledge by the window. There, you take off your boots and flop back without so much as sinking under the thin covers, and you fall asleep as if there’s nowhere else on this earth you’d rather be. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The sun feels warm against your face when you stir from your slumber. Your eyes feel heavy though, so you simply lay here and breathe in the strange heavy air. Your eyebrows furrow at the feeling of the bed beneath you. Stiff, hard, uncomfortable. Clearly, you’re not at home. 

And, well, that’s when the happenings of last night dawn on you. You can barely comprehend what the helpful priest looked like, better yet how long it took for your feet to carry you to this room.

When you open your eyes and squint to look out of the stained window, most of the city is distorted through the tinted colors, but you can tell that you’re quite high up in the building. Then again, the throbbing in your feet could have probably told you that. 

Still, sitting in this bed now feels much more uncomfortable than it did when you initially laid down. Your head pounds as you pinch the bridge of your nose, squinting around the room and trying to grasp your memory. 

The only thing you remember is the cold hand that guided you here and every beautiful inch of the cathedral. Which can only mean, you have no fucking idea how to get out of here.

Oh, the horror and embarrassment of needing to search for someone to help you leave feels unfamiliar and uncomfortable. Surely, if you’re silent with your feet, you can search the halls until you manage to find a back door, right? At least the route would be scenic and interesting if you can manage it.

And, well, you do try. Searching for a staircase the moment you leave your room simply because you know that the only way home is down at least a hundred steps. Strangely enough, your instincts seem to know exactly where to go. 

Somehow.

Your socked feet carry you straight downstairs and to the main cathedral. You weren’t necessarily expecting to find a room full of people upon entering the space either. After all, if it were Sunday perhaps you’d have to drag your hungover ass past a crowd participating in Sunday mass. 

Despite never seeing a soul enter this cathedral save for yourself and that priest. 

Weird, there are a few people with bowed heads sitting in the pews of the main chapel. All appear to be clad in black and gold, one or two others with silver. Not entirely cloaked but still incredibly eerie from behind as you look on with each silent foot step. 

And suddenly, your body freezes. 

There, at the center of the altar stands a stoic man. Posture so straight you could argue he is nothing but an ancient statue. Behind him, you note that there is an actual statue of a figure standing much the same, far too distant to make out the face of. 

Only for a moment do you recall glancing at the statue from the night before, noting how it resembled no god nor deity that you’re aware of. It doesn’t even resemble a human the longer you stare at it, actually.

Ah. Yes. The vibes in this cathedral are off. From your feet somehow knowing the place as if it’s your own home to the silent chapel bowing their heads to an even more silent man standing frozen in the center. If at all, you feel like you’ve been caught in a photo, stuck with your feet on this single tile with the front doors just out of your reach. 

That is, until one of those whispering nuns makes her way to you, tapping your shoulder with a nod and a very quiet, “Shall I see you out?” 

And she does, opening the large doors for you and closing them behind you without so much as a sound. 

Strange, because you remember the echo of those doors closing from the night before. But whatever, you guess, as you’re assaulted with the bright afternoon sun forcing your eyes to tear up. 

You take a step through the flash-bang of summer air, slowly adjusting your eyesight to the very museum you work at. Bustling with your co-workers who are made to work this weekend, you try to avoid being seen. After all, as a new employee, the last thing you need is to be perceived as a hungover mess while walking out of that weird fucking cathedral with nothing more than socked feet and a pair of stompers held against your chest.

And so, you make the short trek home, thankful for the walkable city but entirely unthankful for the charming weather your realtor promised for this time of the year. It’s fresher than you’d like for it to be outside today, the warm sun keeping you at a perfect temperature while the cold breeze offers a shiver here and there. 

You’re not sure why it pisses you off. It’s probably the headache that only pounds harder and harder with each step you take. 

Finally, you make it to your apartment. You feel cold when you step inside the lobby and make your way up. Somehow you feel even colder when find yourself at the window, gazing at the same cathedral you just spent the night in, looking hazy in the afternoon sun. 

It looms there in the city, with its elder rooted walls and pointed arches. Still so beautiful, still so mysterious, still so fucking luring. 

Even after sleeping there, and even after you felt the vibrations inside skew your comfort, it stands out not only in the city, but in your brain. With the modern city only forcing it to stick out like a sore thumb, you can argue that the city could be just as old and still that cathedral would offer a shiver down your spine. 

Your head pulses at the sunlight shining through your window, forcing your eyes from the darkened haunt, and you’re quick to make your way to the kitchen to rummage for something to help with the headache. 

And by the time you flop down on your couch, you drift back to sleep, realizing that you’re not entirely sure if you slept at all the night before. Despite waking up, despite not remembering a thing from after you laid down, and despite feeling rejuvenated in every aspect aside from sleep. 

That rejuvenation strangely drains you more as you drift to sleep, finding it so unnatural that you willingly slept in a maze filled with no face you can put a name to.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Making your first friend feels good. Weeks worth of pretending and hoping you and your co-workers would somehow become besties outside of the museum walls fell short, after all. Not that you don’t consider them friends, it’s more so just the fact that they’re all a bit too stoic and up-tight for you. 

You’re quite a bit younger as well. You can tell that they lost their spark for creating art years ago, if they ever even created it in the first place, anyway. It’s all just curating, curating, curating for them. An eye for beauty only, which is respected and appreciated but still, no eye for fun outside of these walls though. 

That’s where Jungwon comes in. A young artist with first-installation jitters dimpling his cheeks as he offers the smallest “hello” that you think you’ve ever heard from another person. 

He’s similar to you in the way he dresses. He works hard, amazing you with each piece of his collection that’s pulled from a tightly packed box, filled with bubble wrap and slammed with “FRAGILE” stickers. 

Arguably, you don’t need to be friends with your co-workers when you have artists like him coming in and out every few months. He’s quite lively, very excited, and almost clumsy in the way he carries himself. 

You were endeared with him the moment you met him and honestly just three days in, the two of you are practically attached at the hip as you push and work hard alongside him to set up the installation as perfectly as possible for the following weekend. 

And, well, the first showing went off without a hitch. His smiling face could have been seen for miles, you think, as you watch him mingle and blush at each compliment and critique of his work.

So bright. 

So full of life.

The exact person you’d want to be around. 

“Jungwon–” You elbow him in the side as he nods and shakes hands through each farewell while the museum comes to its close for the night. “It’s Friday.” You smile. 

He nods you off, paying close attention to each face that came to visit his work. And only when the halls are empty does he make his way back to you with a deep exhale and a loud, relieved groan. 

“Finally.” He huffs, blowing a strand of his hair up and into the air. “Just fifty nine more days to go.” 

You roll your eyes fondly at him already counting down until the two of you are scheduled to take down his work. 

“You do know you only need to be here for opening night, right?” You laugh.

“Well, yeah.” He shrugs. “But it’s my first installation, I worry some kid will come wipe his snotty nose all over my hard work.��� 

You chuckle, he chuckles, and then you turn to face him. 

“So, it’s Friday.” 

He bounces on his feet. 

“Yeah, glad to see you seem to grasp the idea of fleeting time and whatnot.” He looks at you with a mischievous smile. “What about it?”

“We should go out. The club across the street has really strong drinks for half the price as most places.” 

You watch as Jungwon’s eyes shine when they flick behind you to glance out the window. Then his face falls, his eyebrow raises, and he tilts his head. 

“You do realize we’ve been here for like, eighteen hours straight, right?” 

You nod casually with a shrug.

“I live super close by, if we get tired, you can just crash on my couch.” 

He pretends like he thinks it over for more than two seconds before ultimately accepting the offer of fun. 

“Cool. Wanna meet me there in an hour? I should probably change and stuff first.” 

You eye over his outfit, and then give yourself a quick glance. 

“Good plan.” You smile, backing away and throwing your bag over your shoulder. “An hour. Be there.” 

You both nod in agreement and go your separate ways. Sleepy, but entirely willing to celebrate Jungwon’s huge accomplishment with drinks that have already proven to be too strong. 

The hour passes quickly, wearing that same pair of boots for a second time now that you have the perfect place and reason to stomp around in them. This time, you even go as far as darkening your lips and smearing your mascara just a smidge. After all, you’re definitely gonna get drunk and your makeup will be smeared by the end of the night regardless. 

You gasp upon seeing Jungwon’s chosen attire, offering him an “Ooooh” the second you walk up to him. He had been leaning against the front doors of the museum, as if he’s simply an on looker and not a working artist with a top-notch showcase within those walls. 

He lends you a matching “Ahhhh” upon seeing your chosen outfit. Both of you somehow match in a way that makes this appear more like a date night rather than friends getting drinks. Which is kind of cute and a welcomed idea if the two of you have one to many and accidentally start making out or something. 

It feels platonic enough to laugh off in the morning, anyway. And really, while his boots don’t lend him extra height, he stomps around in them much like you do your own. With his black knit sweater littered in frays and pulled yarn, and his hair intentionally messed up. 

“Wonnie,” You offer the nickname easily as you grab onto his arm and check the street for cars before beginning to cross. “I think some eyeliner could finish off your look.” You laugh as the two of you practically prance with heavy boots to the club. 

He smiles at the nickname, hiding his face only slightly in his sweater when he blinks back at you with sparkly eyes. 

“Really?” He smiles, dimples on full display for the tattooed bodies lined up outside, already checking out the artist. 

“Yeah, oh–” You huff, digging in your small shoulder bag. “I have some, let’s do the finishing touch.” 

And when the two of you stand at the back of the line, you do just that. Carefully holding his cheek in one hand and lining the lower lashes on his left eye. 

He doesn’t even close his eyes, and instead looks up into the night sky with that same dimple showing. Blinking every few seconds at the sensitivity, ignoring the fact that his eyes start to prickle at the feeling. 

“It tickles,” He chuckles in a hushed whisper, never having a friend be so close to his face like this before. “How do you manage to do this every day?”

“I guess you just get used to it after a while.” You focus on the way the darkened color brings his eye to seem more catty than it already was, taking your thumb and swiping the bottom lid to smear the charcoal makeup.

You note how innocent and shining his other eye looks compared. Nevertheless, you go to rest your hand on his other cheek now.

Just for a moment, his eyes flash down to look at you. So, so close to his face. Instantly, you lend him a pause and your own smile. 

“You’re blushing.” You laugh, holding your hand steady in wait as he shifts his weight to the other leg out of natural nervousness. 

“Sorry,” He whispers out, blinking frantically to prepare for his other eye to tickle. “I’m not used to being this close to someone.”

Ah, you don’t believe that for a second.

“Look up.” You instruct, already lining his other lashes. “Feels like I’m putting the finishing touches to a masterpiece.” You add in a lame chuckle, feeling a little flustered yourself the more you note how his eyes water at the tickle. They shine so pretty.

He laughs out at your comment, a hand shooting to your wrist as you smear the liner on him. Not to be intimate or anything, just simply to steady your hand more.

“I guess I am kinda the canvas like this, huh?” He comments, standing as still as he can while looking up at the moon. “Hey–”

“Hm?” You say, pulling your hand back now and doing the same with your thumb to smear the make up into perfection on his flawless little face. 

“What kind of gum is that?” He asks, blinking a few times before adjusting his eyes properly and pretending like he can’t feel the waxy substance caked on his lashes. 

“Just regular spearmint.” You give him a half smile. “Why, you want a piece?” 

He nods, mostly because if he had known you were going to get this close to his face, he probably would have already had some type of candy in his mouth.

Again, it’s not like he has feelings or anything. It’s just, well, it’s always intimate to have someone so close to you. In your space. Your bubble. No one ever gets that close unless they want to kiss. Or, he guesses, if they’re putting eyeliner on you. 

“You look really cute,” You comment now, stepping back after giving him a piece of gum and looking over how the smeared makeup really does complete his look. “Should’ve brought one of my chokers too. Now that, yeah.” 

“Huh?” He tilts his head as the two of you move up the line. “You’re really into this kind of scene aren’t you?”

You nod shyly. 

“Was a total mall goth back when I was a teenager. I would’ve stalked you around the mall if you looked like this back then, really. Totally my type.”

He lends a bashful blink and a half-hearted laugh, stuffing his hands into his pockets and looking to the ground. 

“Well, when I was a teenager I looked like the person who invented calculus.” 

“And now you’re just a little work of art, huh?” You continue the cringey art-jokes, mostly because you like the way he tries to pretend they’re funny rather than utterly horrifying. 

And he does smile at it, ears flowing with heat as he blushes. He probably wouldn’t feel so shy if it weren’t for the fact that he also heard compliments all day about his art. He’s a bit sensitive right now.

“I guess so.” He accepts your compliment like all the others, lifting his shoulder to his cheek with a squinted eye. It’s nice to feel like the world’s favorite person for a night, truly.

And the conversation is even easier from here on out. Albeit, a bit flirty but it stills platonic enough to where the two of you are just…in a comfortable little bubble surrounded by faces you don’t know. Perhaps playing the part of being two individuals who came to a club together rather than separately and alone. 

As the hours pass, there are several strangers approaching the two of you. Words of “need a third?” and “well aren’t you two just fucking perfect?” 

Jungwon basks in it, snickering quietly with you but never denying a single accusation. The two of you play along. Drinking, dancing, and then more drinking. Up until Jungwon decides he’s held his bladder long enough and is off in search of a bathroom while you make your way to the bar. 

For more drinks, of course. Not to hit on the bartender you met the first time you came here.

“Another red death?” The man with inky red hair smiles at you, already grabbing a glass and starting your drink. 

“Yes but, can I actually–” You pause, glancing at the other man behind the bar. 

Red haired man laughs knowingly with a nod and a side eye before pointing silently at his co-worker and raising a brow at you.

You nod back, dipping your face only slightly when you see him take two steps back and whisper to the man. 

Instantly, you feel a bit more shy over asking to be served by this guy but goddamn. His dark hair looks slightly damp when his eyes glance to you upon whatever is being whispered in his ear, probably from something spewing in his face after being shaken up, or perhaps from sweat. 

You try to avoid eye contact under the man’s gaze when he walks over and in front of you. Sharp jaw, silver chain, loose black t-shirt revealing equally as damp collar bones.

God. The shirt is sticking to him. 

“Babe, my eyes are up here.” He laughs, holding an empty cup and leaning on the bar towards you. “Had a little too much to drink again?” 

You nod, dazed by his dark eyes before immediately shaking your head. 

“Red death, please. Two of them.” 

The man nods with a knowing smile. 

“I saw that you came here with someone.” 

He’s flirting. Mostly for tips but it’s not like he hasn’t been known to take people home from work before so, wherever it goes is where it goes for him. 

“Jay, can you grab me the-” The red haired bartender says from behind, and Jay, presumably, hands him a bottle without so much as letting him finish the sentence. 

“He’s cute.” Jay continues talking to you, enjoying the way you don’t realize how you fold in on yourself. “Any reason as to why you asked me to make your drink?”

“Um, oh,” You were gonna be bold, but you feel Jungwon suddenly clinging to you from behind, eyeing the bartender just like you are. “I just think you make them better.” 

“Did he just say I’m cute?” Jungwon whispers behind your ear, watching the man’s hands as he makes the drinks with expert knowledge. 

“You’re both cute.” The bartender smirks, looking between both of you and then offering a wink. “This round is on me.” He adds, sliding both cups forward and brushing your hand just for a moment before turning his attention to someone else. 

Honestly, it’s like you and Jungwon are the same person at this moment when you grab your drinks and you turn to face each other. 

Both of you, bouncing on your feet with whispered squeals over the hot bartender including both of you in the compliment. 

“Oh my god.” You stare forward, tasting the drink and noting that there somehow seems to be more alcohol in this one. “He’s so–”

Jungwon nods to you excitedly, sipping his drink quickly before glancing behind you and meeting the eye of the bartender again. 

“He was just looking at your ass.” He comments, flipping his body to cling to your arm and now turning his back to Jay “You think he’s gonna check mine out too?”

You nod with a snicker, the song changing and the tempo instantly drowning your thoughts. 

“I love this song!” You shout with drunken glee, already making your way from the bar but keeping that little thought that hopefully, Jay will keep glancing at the two of you simply because it’s fun to be watched by a hottie. 

And Jungwon just goes with your flow. Dancing with sticky sweet lips, eyes glazed over from the music and mood. His makeup looks more beautiful now paired with strands of his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. 

You don’t think you’ve ever seen dimples so fucking deep before, and it’s almost painful to remember his face without that smile plastered on it. 

“Wonnie,” You grab him by the shoulder and pull him against you, ignoring how his hair dips into your drink for a moment. “I think you’re my best friend.”

And the way he pulls back with a gasp, smiling wider? It shatters your heart just so it can grow larger. 

“I am?” He does a little bounce through his dance move, eyes shining in the strobe lights, flashes of red and purple shading his cheeks, only deepening those dimples. “Really?”

Never have you enjoyed spending time with someone like this. Never without crushing hard, never without wanting to take them home and fuck them until you can’t walk. Jungwon is different though. He really does feel like a long lost best friend, like the part of you that has been missing for far too long. 

The moment you met him, you clicked in a way that didn’t involve a dick or a hole. I mean, sure you’d probably fuck him for funsies but there’s really no point in it because you feel perfectly happy, perfectly fulfilled, just having him spend his free time with you. 

Surely when he has to travel back home, you’re going to cry. 

“Why do you have to live so far away?” You pause your dancing, making yourself sad at the thought that he will only be here for a few weeks. “Who am I gonna hang out with when you leave?”

Jungwon lends you a pouty sound, a coo, almost. 

“I only live an hour away.” He laughs, leaning forward and plastering his sweaty forehead to yours with a slurred shout so you can hear him clearly. “I’ll come see you all the time!” 

And with that, the mood seeps right back into your veins as the smile overtakes you. 

You dance with him, forehead to forehead for a long, long, while. Up until the club is so crowded with people that Jay couldn’t possibly be paying attention to anything other than making drinks, and you couldn’t possibly pay attention to anything other than the music vibrating the alcohol in your stomach. 

It’s almost suffocating, as you feel a pang in your chest of overheated anxiety. You breathe in, smelling the fifth piece of gum that Jungwon slipped from your pocket on his breath. You exhale, smelling your own sweet alcohol breath before pulling back and dragging Jungwon by the hand into the only corner not packed with people. 

“You okay?” Jungwon slurs as he sways in front of you, eyes trying their best to seem concerned. “You look like you might get sick.” 

You nod, feeling your mouth fill with warm saliva indicating that you should probably go to the bathroom now. 

“Okay, lets get you to-” 

You cut Jungwon off with an off balance sprint to the bathroom and somehow he keeps pace with you, gripping your shirt and refusing to lose you in the crowd. 

Unfortunately, as you press on your stomach to somehow hold down whatever is trying to come up, you notice how there’s a very long line for the bathroom. 

And it’s still suffocating in here. 

And your mouth tastes too sweet. And the music is too loud.

“Let’s go outside!” Jungwon shouts against your ear, vibrating your brain as he navigates you through the crowd himself, pressing you up against the front doors of the club before pushing you outside with him close behind.

The waft of breezy summer air instantly fills your lungs and your stomach settles at the space you have to yourself now. 

You stumble forward, making your way around the same concerned bouncer from before who only smiles at you and Jungwon struggling to find your footing. 

And, like the best friend you knew he became, he tries his best to be the sober friend right now. His voice wavers and crackers when he speaks, but his hands are firm on both of your shoulders as he presses you against the wall behind you. 

“Stay here.” Jungwon says with concern still in his voice. “I’m gonna run back in and get us some water, okay?” 

And you nod in a daze as your eyes follow him when he disappears back inside. You note how he says something to the bouncer before opening the doors, and surely he simply asked that the guy keep an eye on you. 

“You should probably eat something soon, sweetheart.” The kind bouncer comments to you in the night air, stepping closer to you and standing just against the wall next to you.

You feel protected by him, so there are no alarm bells ringing. 

“You know I can’t let you back in, right?” He chuckles as he speaks to you calmly. 

“Oh, I bet.” You laugh, breathing in the air again and again, still not regretting the fun you’ve had for the past few hours. “Just gonna sit here and wait for Wonnie, he’ll help me get home.”

“Good, good.” The bouncer confirms your words, still standing protective next to you when you hear the doors fly open and a few seconds of booming music before it’s muffled again. 

Jungwon flops down in front of you on the sidewalk now, two water bottles in hand with a smile on his face. 

“Jay gave me these.” He smiles. “He said if we can handle waiting til closing time he can drive us home.”

You laugh sheepishly. Unfortunately, you’re a bit too drunk and you know you probably wont make it another hour and a half with an additional however much time it’ll take for him to close up the club before needing to pass the fuck out. 

“I think I’ll have to take him up on that next time.” You slur your words. “You’ll help me walk home right, Wonnie? It’s a short walk.” 

Jungwon nods, still doing his best to act as sober as he can, but the bouncer shuts him down fast.

“Oh, I don’t think so buddy.” The bouncer laughs. “You’re both fucked out of your mind.” 

You laugh, Jungwon laughs, and the bouncer throws in his own hearty sigh. 

“Fuck–” You have a sudden, sober thought. “The tab. Jungwon, did we pay the tab?”

He pauses, eyes widening. 

“Shit.” He explains before jumping up on unsteady feet. “Can you help her call for a ride?” He slurs out at the bouncer, only disappearing inside again when the kind goth nods at the request.

And as you sit here in the silence after the bouncer helps you order a ride, a few minutes pass. Your eyes are out of focus as you stare up into the night sky before closing them. 

You could fall asleep right here on the sidewalk if you’re not careful. 

Another few minutes pass, now a loud slam of the doors rings in your tired ears now and you jolt out of the drowsy state, opening your eyes thinking you’ll find Jungwon rushing to you but instead, you note how suddenly you’re entirely alone. 

You don’t know how long you’ve sat here, or where the bouncer went, better yet why Jungwon isn’t back yet but what you do know is that suddenly, you’re mind is sober and fucking assaulted by the smell of cinnamon.

You glance around, trying to focus on the scent and where it’s coming from when– oh.

There, walking down the sidewalk is that fucking priest from before. Tall, clad yet again in black clothes, and he simply pauses his step in front of you. 

“Again?” The man calls out to you with an amused voice, lending you his hand, but you don’t take it. 

Instead, the doors suddenly fly open and Jungwon stumbles out again, nearly tripping over his own feet with an apology of “sorry, jay was trying to convince us to–”

“Uh, hi?” Jungwon interrupts himself as he takes note of the man standing in front of you. “The fuck are you?” He checks the man out, not quite able to focus on him in full.

The priest nods his head at both of you, staring Jungwon up and down before landing his eyes back on you. 

“Get her home safe.” He says nothing else before continuing his nightly stroll. 

And, well, you do get home safe. 

You and Jungwon are a mess of limbs in the short ride to your apartment, and an even messier pile of idiots by the time you make it inside. The couch is long forgotten by the time you close your front door, feeling Jungwon follow you all the way to your plush bed with drunken groans and giggles.

There, you flop onto the bed fully clothed without so much as a happy “goodnight” and you’re both drifting off to sleep. Jungwon’s heavy limbs are thrown on you as he loosely spoons you. Like he’s still trying to take care of you despite the fact that you no longer feel sick, and you’re both perfectly safe behind your apartment walls. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Have you no shame? 

Fuck no. 

What about Jungwon? Nah.

Both of you have a pep in your step by the next Friday, waiting for the museum to close so Jungwon can walk home with you and get all dressed up and ready for another fall into the infamous “after life”.

“We should try to stay until closing, maybe Jay will bring us home this time.” Jungwon wiggles his eyebrows as you put his eyeliner on for him again. 

“We’re gonna have to look real good then, yeah?” You smile at his pretty smeared eyes, reaching your hand up and ruffling his hair.

And you do. Both of you dress up in the darkest, blackest, sexiest fit you can find in your closet. Jungwon is sporting one of your pretty, sheer lace undershirts beneath his own unbuttoned black cardigan, pants tight and low on his waist. 

You, with another semi-transparent shirt. Sheer, showing all the goods if you hadn’t put on a nice fitting bralette under it. Cute skirt that shows your thighs, the stompers, of course. 

And the finishing touch this time? Matching chokers. 

“Cute.” You comment, leaning forward and popping a minty kiss to the tip of Jungwon’s nose. 

“You too.” He smiles, pinching your waist before turning to face your vanity mirror and checking himself out. 

Cute is right. Jay’s probably gonna fall to the floor when he gets a look at the two of you. 

And, well. The night is a blur. 

Jay does, in fact, eye the two of you with that sharp smirk like he did last weekend but you, unfortunately, drink far too much yet again. 

Jungwon slowed down a bit towards midnight but he kept an eye on you for the most part. Trying to secure the ride for both of you by orbiting around the bar and making flirty talk with both bartenders when time allowed it. 

You stayed on the dance floor through it. Sometimes dancing with Jungwon when he comes up behind you with clingy hands and updates on the Jay situation, but after a few songs he’d wander off again. 

It’s nice, kind of. Having someone with you that can maintain control through your own drunken stupidity. You don’t mind dancing alone, after all, you’re not entirely alone giving the pretty men and girls who come by to dance with you every other song when Jungwon isn’t around.

And of course, around the same time as last time, you find your mind feeling suffocated by the time the club is at capacity. 

You sway on the dance floor in search of Jungwon, unsure of which way the bar is because your eyes simply can’t adjust to the darkness and flashing lights by this point. 

Dimples. You need to find the sunshine face in this void of darkness. 

And you search. 

And search. 

Until you’re stumbling out the front doors alone, knowing that if Jungwon is looking for you, he’ll probably know you stepped out to breathe at some point. 

Just like the week before, the crip summer air outside instantly settles your stomach and breathing comes easier. You feel more sober than you thought you were as you sit here, making small talk with the bouncer who finally introduces himself to you. 

“That’s a good name for a big goth teddy bear.” You mock the man. “Balor.”

“In the flesh.” The man waves you off. 

And then, suddenly, the bouncer is stepping closer to you with a stiffened shoulder, the air outside shifting to something else for him, but you’re completely unaware of it. 

“I need to step inside for a moment, will you be alright for a few minutes?” He knows he shouldn’t step inside, but in all fairness, it’s kind of the protocol at this point. 

Considering that man has made himself very clear that if he’s near the club at all, it’s for good reason and he’s not to be interrupted. At least, that’s what code is for the bouncers here at this club. 

It’s a shame though, to know he has to leave you to the night. You’re a fun girl, peppy and sweet, not rude or hard to make small talk with on the long nights of work. Maybe you drink a little too much, but still. It’s not like the bouncer knows why he is to leave the sidewalk when a certain someone wanders by. What he does know is that more often than not, he’ll sink away inside only to resume his position alone, with no one left on the sidewalk.

Probably just a pimp. 

Or human trafficking. 

He isn’t sure, but time and time again he has been told to leave it be. That it’s nothing wretched. That it’s simply a territory that isn’t their own. 

Still, you nod to the bouncer. 

“If you see Wonnie, can you scold him for letting me get lost?” 

You miss the look of concern on the bouncer’s face. 

“Hey, come back inside, I’ll help you find him.”

“Oh, hello again.” A voice echoes from around the corner, causing the bouncer’s shoulders to fall as he immediately offers you a small “I'll find him–” before disappearing behind the heavy doors with haste. 

And then, cinnamon. The spicy scent wafting through you so fast that you’re almost dizzy. 

More dizzy than you already were, anyway.

“Have you learned nothing?” The priest walks up to you, chuckling and raising his eyebrows. 

“Weird ass priest.” You say, paying no mind to the happenings of just now, totally unaware of the energy surrounding you.

“And to what god do you believe I pray?” He tilts his head as he stands in front of you, hands behind his back, leaning down at the waist to position his face in front of yours. 

The question makes you look up at him with a skewed brow. 

“The usual one?” You ask, rolling your eyes at the silly meeting. 

Again.

A third meeting. 

“Ah, the usual one.” He mocks, nodding his head before standing back up and towering over you. “Do you seek him out?” 

You nod momentarily, having never been religious but at this moment, as drunk as you are and as alone as you feel with this strange man, only god could answer your curious question as to why you keep meeting him. 

As to why you’re always all on your own when he appears. 

As to why he forces a hope in your mind that god is really out there, and he’ll protect you when the bouncer isn’t here.

“Was that a nod?” He smiles at you, landing a cold hand on your shoulder. 

“Yes,” You whisper out, feeling heavy and more and more dizzy by the moment. Not from the alcohol but from something else. “Do you know where I can find him?” 

Your voice calls out on its own to him. You don’t recall wanting to ask him that, nor do you recall even thinking those words before saying them.

“He’s right here, love–” The priest pulls back, presenting the space in front of him before turning his hands inward and presenting himself to you. “I am God.”

You freeze, a rush of cold running through your veins. Surely you’re hearing him wrong despite that voice echoing those words in your head three, four, five, six times. 

“Isn’t that considered blasphemy?” You try to play it off in a joke, hiding the chill down your spine. 

Pretending you’re not interested. 

Wondering why it is that you are, actually. 

“Perhaps on any other street.” He confirms for you, now crouching down and showing his face plainly to you. “Do you keep secrets?” 

Your body nods before you can think to do it yourself, and you narrow your eyes for a moment at him. He’s…insane looking. Unnaturally flawless. Like those little speckles of moles on his face were placed with perfected intention. 

You’re mesmerized as he looks at you, eyes glancing to each part of your face, watching your expression change and fall, then rise and– he chuckles fondly, deeply. 

“I believe you.”

Why do you feel proud of that?

“Come back with me, yes?” 

There’s a long pause as you fight to think for yourself. If Jungwon were here with you right now, surely you’d be more grounded than you feel right now. Surely, you’d be having a heated conversation involving some sort of shared fantasy over that bartender. 

What was his name again? 

J…J-

Your eyes adjust to the face in front of you as you lose your train of thought. Something inside of you pulls. You can’t tell if it’s your heart or your thoughts but it appears to be instinctual when you replay his invitation in your head. On any other night, with any other man, you’d say no. 

Under these circumstances alone, you should be running away. 

This man. Dressed as a holy priest, walking to and fro from what you assume to be his home within that unnatural cathedral, presenting himself as god.

You should stand up and disappear into a crowd of rowdy dancers. 

You should find Jungwon and cling to him. 

You should push him away, and you should be recoiling by his cold hand that brushes your cheek. His voice shouldn’t feel so good in your ears. Like a siren, something inside of you doesn’t want you to run. 

“Temptation has you by the throat, my dear.” He smiles as his hand brushes your warm cheek again and again. “You seem rather fond of the feeling.” 

And now he flashes his teeth to you. Glistening brighter than the moon, he appears all but natural to you at this moment when you spiral internally at how fucking beautiful he is. Surely this guy is just a turbo goth that truly lives the life. Probably gives his heart to satan and only fucks during a full moon. 

And oh, wouldn’t you know.

You glance up at the sky again, the moon full and nearly pulsing in the sky like it’s a living being itself. Then your eyes fall back to the priest, his smile still present. 

A weirdo. A freak.

But…aren’t you too?

You barely feel yourself stand up and take a step forward under his arm. You follow the scent of him if nothing else. Heavy in your nose, like a hidden treasure cloaked by the darkened fabric draping over his body.

You want to smell it deeper. Maybe if he were to take off those clothes you could–

“By the throat.” He mumbles quietly as he leads you away from the club. 

Away from familiarity. Away from Jungwon. Away from the public.

There, straight back to that damned cathedral.

You’re more unnerved this time though, because the moment you step through the doors, you cannot, for the life of you, recall what you were supposed to be doing. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Waking up with a weight on your side, you smile at the feeling of what you assume to be Jungwon next to you. As you lay here, not quite comprehending what happened in the blur of the night before, you start to take note of something. Color. 

The light behind your closed eyelids don’t match the yellow-white light of the sun shining through your bedroom window. No, you’re seeing colors. 

Blue, red, green– 

“Wonnie?” You call out, squinting your eyes open, not quite processing the room before you feel a pit in your stomach. “Wonnie?”

Holy shit. 

You thought it was a dream.

You thought coming back to this cathedral was nothing more than a drunken dream. That the weight on your side was more than just a misplaced pillow. 

And as you lay here in a room that isn’t yours, and most certainly a different room compared to the one you slept in previously here, you try to think. 

Was it not a dream? 

The way the priest held you close and inhaled you? The way he put you to bed and left you here in the darkness? The way you– oh. 

This feeling in your chest, pulling, pushing, weighing so heavy. Something inside of you wants to see him despite your uncomfortable awakening. No, you need to see him. This feeling, you know now, only becomes more aggressive when he’s near too. Which can only mean he isn’t far outside of this room. 

You think hard about him and what you can remember outside of the blur in your head. He’s attractive. His face is otherworldly, with eyes so dark you hate that you can very nearly see yourself floating in them. 

The image of his face sits clearly in your hungover brain as you try to think. The feeling of his cold skin against your face, his lips, his…

Red.

Panic washes over you when you jump out of bed, ignoring the head rush and the way you immediately topple over and onto the floor. You need to go home, you need to find Jungwon and make sure he made it somewhere safe last night. You need to find your phone, and your…purse? 

Your shoes?

Where the fuck are your things?

You plant your hands against the cold wooden floors, staring straight down as you try to think. Still, nothing comes but blurry images of the club and then solid images of Sunghoon flashing like still photographs behind your eyes.

Are you losing your goddamn mind? 

Finally, you take a deep breath and stand on your feet, rushing for the door and expecting it to open easily, just like this time. But no. It’s locked. You’re fucking locked in. Which is– fuck, you can’t think straight. And while you still recognize that you’re not expected at work today, surely Jungown is worried, right?

He’s probably looking for you. Hell, with the way his nerves get to him, you wouldn’t be surprised to know he’s plastered posters all over the city looking for you. 

He’s definitely looking for you. 

Fortunately though, only a few minutes of pure panic pass when you hear the door unlock and a pale-eyed nun opens the door for you. She instantly sees the fear in your eyes when you take a timid step back. 

“Oh, you poor dear–” She coos out, lifting her brows in pity. “Do you not remember?” 

You hear her sympathy, feeling your body shiver with relief at her safe and calm voice. Looking up at her, she can already see the question in your eyes. The need for an explanation. 

“You did request that I lock the door for you. You were just simply petrified when–”

You gasp at her choice of words, not remembering a single bit of fear from the night before. 

“Petrified?” You whisper carefully, wrapping your arms around yourself and nervously looking around the room. 

The shrouded woman purses her lips, glancing away from you. 

“I do believe Master Sunghoon startled you. He meant no harm, my dear.” She tries to calm your nerves, but the information only stiffens your shoulders more. 

“Master?” You question with hesitation. “Do you mean Father? Reverend?” 

“Oh.” She purses her lips tighter now, a small smile breaking out at the corners of her lips. “It’s worse than I thought. Please, come with me.” 

You shake your head, backing yourself up against the wall. 

“It’ll only be a minute,” She waves her hand for you to come. “You’re not in danger, I assure you.” 

And as you stand here, knowing that you likely have no choice but to follow her, you hope that her words indicating no danger are truthful. You kind of need them to be, after all. 

“Come now, dear.” 

Reluctantly, you follow her. 

All the way up a too-dark spiral staircase, down two long and dark hallways with vaulted ceilings, and upon rounding a corner, you smell it and you fucking feel a tug in your chest. One that drives you to walk a bit faster, nearly in front of the nun as your feet carry you to where you feel you’re supposed to be. 

She chuckles when you reach the large double doors before she does, dipping her head at you before seemingly gliding back down the hallway in silence. 

Before you can even knock on the doors, they open with a rush of air hitting you square in your face. It nearly knocks the breath out of you at first, but you inhale deeply the same scent of cinnamon before your breath is actually caught in your throat. 

There stands the priest. Or god…or whatever he is. 

“Terrified.” He clicks a knowing tongue at you, stepping to the side to invite you into the extravagant room. “Just when I thought you I had you, too.” 

You stand in silence in front of him after stepping inside, that tug in your chest trying to pull you directly against the man. Still, you refrain with furrowed brows as you remain silent.

“And yet, here you stand.” He softens his frustrated voice, leaning comfortably against a wooden desk behind him. “The human brain truly is fascinating.” 

“Human brain.” You repeat his words to him in an attempt to process them.

“Yes, of course. Yours in particular.” The priest, in his night clothes of a loosened white shirt and long pants makes his way to a bookcase. You watch his slender fingers pull a ratty old book out before he flip through the pages. “I’ve heard about people like you.” 

You pause as you watch him push a pair of gold-trimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose, a memory flooding to the forefront of your mind as you recall last night to your best ability. 

Again, red. 

“I used to be like you.” He just talks, offering no context but keeping his sharp gaze on you despite having the book open in his hands. 

You find yourself nodding as you listen, feeling your hand raise to your heart as you try to ignore the way the priest, Sunghoon, takes a deep inhale. 

There’s nothing that follows his inhale. He doesn’t release that breath as he stares at you and instead just…smirks.

“Last night, you believed me to be god.” He smiles wider now. “You stood in that very spot and undressed  yourself.” He takes a step closer to you now, tilting his head with his words. “Do you know what you did next?” 

A shaky breath leaves your lips and a shiver runs through you again and again as you shake your head at him. Forgetting just for a moment how to speak. 

“You got on your knees and you prayed.”

You drink the thick air in the room like a glass of wine, swallowing harshly, struggling to maintain any type of steady heart beat. You feel allured, aroused, mesmerized, embarrassed. 

“What–” Inhale. “Did I pray for?” 

Exhale. 

“Me.” 

Inhale.

Within a split second all the memories come crashing through your skull. Rattling images of that very instance where you were on your knees, right here, fucking praying. Your hand instinctively shoots up to your neck, and there, you feel the drainage points. Two small pricks, just like in all of those movies you watched growing up. Sore, swollen, hot to the touch. 

Well, goddamn. 

There goes your balance. Your eyes start to blur and you feel yourself fall. Only, you don’t. You can’t when you hear him drop the book to the floor and feel his cold body shoot up and against you to hold you up. 

He says nothing at first as he looks down at you, and you couldn’t say anything if you wanted to. You look up at him in a daze, trying to focus, trying to think, but all you can process is the way he inhales again, deeply.

“You ran.” He whispers to you, studying your face and the way your body went from limp to almost holding up on its own in a shorter time than he expected. So strong, you are. Such a fighter.

He inhales again, seemingly drowning in the smell of you before rolling his eyes up and closing them just for a moment. Then, he groans before looking back down at you with eyes almost as dazed as yours.

“You didn’t run away, though.” He adds.

Even as he releases his hold on you, he smiles and inches his face closer and closer to yours. Almost as if he’s making an attempt to stare straight through you. 

“I wouldn’t have stopped you, love.” 

Your body feels weak as you soak in the truth of last night, your lips instinctively wanting to kiss him. No longer do you feel the need to run away, or to find Jungwon. You’re no longer afraid, even. 

Words can’t explain how you feel right now.

“Why didn’t you leave?” 

You have no answers for him when you hum out as a response. In fact, you’re not sure if you’ve ever had the ability to answer questions in the first place. 

All you feel is euphoria as he continues to talk to you, sweetly smiling and lowering his voice to something that drips like thick syrup down the walls of your brain. 

“I can trust you’ll be back then?” He hovers his lips over yours, watching you pucker them for him before backing away with another deep inhale of your scent. “Or would you rather I come pick you up from the vomit-covered sidewalk again?”

You find yourself laughing at that, smiling as you blink at him. 

God, he’s so charming. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Sunghoon had shoo’d you away shortly after, and you managed to make it home in a daze of sunlight and uncanny admiration.

You’re not sure if you can ever feel normal again after that. In fact, you’re quite dissociated and disconnected to the world until you find Jungwon slumped at the entrance of your apartment, sound asleep. 

Like a guiding light, his presence grounds you so fast that you feel more dizzy than you did in Sunghoon’s arms. Like your spirit is slammed back into your body and reality is hitting you again. You crouch down in a rush with light taps to Jungwon’s face, those bright eyes widening the moment he realizes that you’re here. 

“Where were you?”  He whispered drowsily, his dry throat forcing his voice to crack as he shifts his body comfortably against your door. 

Immediately, your face is apologetic and your voice is soothing in repeated apologies. 

“I’m sorry, Wonnie–” You hiccup, nearly wanting to cry. “I ended up going home with someone, I didn’t mean to leave you there alone.” You continue, pushing your hands under his arms and hoisting him up to stand. “I’m sorry.” You continue, and continue. “I should have left my keys with you, or–”

“Hey,” He whispers sweetly, finally standing on his own and stretching his arms out with an even drier sound. “It’s okay, you’re the one who missed out.” 

You tilt your head in question as you reach for your shoulder bag, the one Sunghoon had tucked within his desk drawer, and pull out your keys. 

“Oh?” You smile at his lack of care, but part of you kind of shatters at it. 

What if you really needed help? How long would it have taken Jungwon to see the red flags? Then again, how long is it going to take for you to see the red flags?

“Oh yeah.” He nods to you, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as you push open your door and push him inside. “Jay brought me here, he stayed for a little while, even offered to bring me back to his place.”

You’re a little jealous. You did miss out, it seems. Still, you feel…fond of what you went through last night. Despite the feeling of rot within you when you think about it. Knowing it’s weird. Strange. Unnatural.

A vampire? Really? Surely not. 

“Why didn’t you go home with him?” You ask, making your way to your room right behind Jungwon, paying no mind to him as you undress and throw on a t-shirt. “Why’d you sleep at my door?” 

Jungwon shrugs, now taking his own outfit off while rummaging through your closet for a shirt you probably got from an ex boyfriend. 

“Well,” He looks at you now, really looks at you. “I’m fine if you wanna go home with people but I was a little worried, wanted to make sure you’d actually make it home.”

You pause as you dress yourself for a second sleep, feeling something in your chest flutter out of you at his worry. So he did see the color red. 

Not as brightly as you did, but he still saw it. 

“I really am sorry.” You furrow your brows as you watch him put that over-sized shirt on and lay on your bed. “I promise, I won’t do that again.” 

“You’d better not.” He chuckles, blinking at you and waiting for you to come lay with him. 

“Let me go get us some water first, I think we have a lot to sleep off.” 

He nods happily to you, only one dimple peeking out at you when you turn to head for the kitchen.

And after that, it’s nice. Not much sleep happened though, mostly just a lot of water chugging and pillow talk before Jungwon shifts with a gasp.

“What the fuck is that?” He bolts up, hovering over you and practically pinning you to the bed as he forces your face to the side. 

You know exactly what he’s looking at and explaining it isn’t the hardest thing in the world. After all, you were very drunk last night. So drunk that you’re sure you woke up today still drunk. 

A vampire? Hah. There’s no way. You were right to think Sunghoon is just like, really goth. Embarrassingly so. Probably thinks he’s a vampire lord or something. 

That pull in your chest? The inhales with no exhales? 

It’s all an act and, well, you’re kinda into it if you’re being honest, being hunted and all. The dude is hot as hell, and you don’t mind exploring a little bit of his world. 

“Well…” You trail off, lending your looming friend with the smeared eyes an embarrassed smile. 

“Those look deep.” His voice drips in concern as he keeps your face turned. “Did it hurt?”

You feel his fingers touching the two puncture wounds. Gentle, warm fingers. They pulse at the touch and sting when he pulls them away to let you turn your face back to him.

“To be honest, I don’t remember feeling it.” You think he’d probably panic if you told the truth right now. About how you were clearly too drunk when it happened. About how you prayed to a man only for him to pierce your neck and drink you up like you did to the drinks just hours prior. You aren’t even sure if you had sex with the guy.

To you though, sober or not, you probably would have still left with Sunghoon last night. With that flawless skin and those dark eyes. Sober or not, if he’s into biting and blood, you’re into it too. More than willing to play his victim. 

The fact that you were probably far too drunk at the time doesn’t bother you much because even now, with a grasp on reality, you’d like to think you’d let him do it again. If anything, just to feed your own curiosity.

“Wow, you really are into some freaky stuff–” Jungwon comments playfully, rolling back off of you and then taking a breath. “Make sure you clean them. Who knows where the mouth that did it has been.”

All smiles when you’re with Jungwon, honestly. So much comfort and concern, so much laughing and safety. If it weren’t for him, you honestly wouldn’t know how you’d be feeling right now. And it’s nice knowing that he opts to sleep over with you again. Seemingly preferring your apartment over the home he dropped a hefty wad of cash on for a two month stay. 

The feeling of having a best friend swells inside of you with each passing day, and his presence here allows you to go to work and sleep through the night without much more thought to Sunghoon. You love this city and you love the little artist that found himself at your doorstep even more. 

Hopefully he meant it when he said he’d come visit you all the time once his time here is over. Unlike you, who changed your mind the moment you saw Jungwon asleep at your door. 

“I can trust you’ll be back then? Or would you rather I come pick you up from the vomit-covered sidewalk again?” Sunghoon had said to you. You remember it despite the state of your mind at the time, and you also remember nodding to him. 

He seemed satisfied with your confirmation, yet since then you’ve felt no push or pull. No need to have him sucking on your neck or making you feel like he’s a demon wearing the skin of an angel. 

Perhaps you’ll just need to be sure you don’t find yourself drunk and alone on the sidewalk again.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

By mid-week, Jungwon looks sad to know he needs to go back to his respective space for a little while. Not because he wants to, and not even because you want him to. 

It’s simply because you need to be alone. You’ve always needed to be in your own space when this happens anyway. 

Month after month after month. For years and years. 

It never gets comfortable and you’ll never understand why you’re fated to hurt so badly every twenty two days. 

Going to work is already difficult enough, bloated in your quirky outfits and smiling through the twisting knots in your gut. Having Jungwon in your space when you very nearly want to strangle every person who asks you how your day has been would only lead to more owed apologies. 

“It’s not forever, Wonnie.” You genuinely smile through the pain at his narrowed eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic.” 

“Oh, I’m being dramatic?” He throws his arms up and motions at you. “You just told me you need a few days to bleed out on your kitchen floor.” 

“Well, yeah...” You laugh and he frowns. 

“I have a sister, you know.” He rolls his eyes. “Who’s gonna buy you snacks and bring you microwaved water bottles?”

“Jungwon.” You land your hands on his shoulders and force him to look at you. “I really just don’t like when people are around me when I'm on my period.” 

He blows a strand of his hair up before pursing his lips, accepting the fact that maybe he’s a bit too clingy. Then again, you’re the only person in this city he knows and arguably the only person in this world he’s managed to grow so close with.

Given the fact that the two of you only met like, what? Two weeks ago? He should probably tone it down and not make an attempt to change your lifestyle just so he can sleep next to someone. 

“Fine.” He huffs, frowning harder. “But if you need snacks or–”

“I’ll call you.” You shake his shoulders before forcing him into a bear hug. “Thanks though.” 

And with that, you go your separate ways at the end of the work day and try to ignore how the pain medicine did close to nothing all day to help with the twisting in your abdomen. 

Still, you’re relieved to know you can tough out the next few days in silence due to Jungwon backing you up on your false-sickness nonsense nearing the end of your shift. 

“I feel like I’m coming down with a fever.” You whined to your boss, happy that the first day cold-sweats from your period makes it appear as just that. A fever. 

“She’s been a bit out of it all day. If you need me to help out on the down-low while she’s recovering, I don’t mind.” Jungwon had added, smiling at your boss and not at all bothered by the unpaid work he’ll probably have to do for your sake. 

A great friend he is. You’re lucky to have met him. 

An amazing friend, really. For helping you find space for yourself in crowded clubs and within your own bed. For lending a hand at work and showing up every day for your shifts despite simply being an artist that’s presenting his work there. No where is he needed within that museum outside of, well, you. 

And he’s always there. So for him to not be here now, when you’re making your way to your apartment door? It feels...wrong. Mostly because, as alone as you are when you walk inside and as silent as it is, you don’t entirely feel as alone like you once did here. 

Still, you go about your nightly routine and fall into bed with those same cramps in your gut. It’s not long before you’re drifting off, pleased to know that at least when you’re sleeping, there’s no pain in your body. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

A strong scent wakes you, forcing your eyes open in the darkness of your room. 

Familiar. Warm. Spicy.

Cinnamon.

A tug, just a little pull inside of you brings you to your feet as you wander through your apartment. Straight to the front door. Straight out of the front door. 

“You know where I live?” You whisper drowsily, rubbing your eyes and walking straight into his grasp, ignoring the feeling of sticky blood leaking out of you just from getting out of bed alone.

“No.” Sunghoon speaks against your hair, rubbing your arms as he holds you against him. 

“Oh.” You accept his answer with a nonchalant feeling inside of you. Who even cares how he ended up here? 

“Come back with me?” He whispers, already taking a step back and smiling wickedly when you instantly follow, forcing your nose further against his chest and up to his neck. “I hear it dripping, love, come.”

And you do. All the way downstairs and into a car with heavily tinted windows. 

You feel comfortable, safe. 

The cramps in your belly are nowhere near as you slowly but surely come to your senses. Half-awake but feeling buzzed next to him. Still, you smile while keeping your nose planted up and against his neck even as he drives. 

You like the sound of his little laughs each time he tries to push you back to your seat, and you like even more the way he mutters to himself through it when he relents and lets you do as you please. The short drive in the dead of night doesn’t offer much in terms of danger anyway. 

And slowly still, your mind clears. Breaking out of the buzzed fog when he brings you through the cathedral

 silently. Past the pale-eyed nuns with pursed smiling lips, past the windows and hallways. 

No longer are you buzzed by the time you make it through those heavy doors of the extravagant room. The same one you prayed in. The same one you nearly fainted in. The same one you tried to forget. 

“How do you feel?” He asks just moments after the doors close. 

You can sense the slightest bit of hesitation in his voice when he asks you that, only now realizing that you’re in your pajamas and fucking staining them.

“What do you mean?” You ask, squeezing your legs together in an uncomfortable show of what’s happening between them. 

“Are you awake?” He asks now, still slightly hesitant in front of you. You can almost see him hold himself back. 

From something.

“As far as I know.” You tilt your head, glancing around the room. “Um, can I go to the bathro–”

“Can you read that clock?” He interrupts you and points to the candle-lit wall. 

“Three thirty–” You pause, squinting to make sense of the exact minute. “three.” 

He smiles at the fact that you’re entirely awake with him this time, despite the drowsy lure he had you in when he appeared at your door. 

You’re here of your own free will, and you’re not running. 

“Do you want to go home?” 

You’re confused by the questions. As confused and drunk as you felt upon stumbling out your apartment door, you very much came here willingly. If anything, you’re just a little weirded out by the fact that you were paying such close attention to him that you missed the way blood seeped through your clothes. 

“No?” You offer back to him before taking a deep breath. “Can you show me where the bathroom is though?” 

And before you can even comprehend it, Sunghoon is right up against you. Looming and staring down as his hands rest on your shoulders before sliding down to your waist. 

“Now, now.” He chuckles, lowering his face just an inch, resting his lips on your forehead. “Why would I want to do that?” 

“Because I’m gross right now?” You laugh awkwardly, trying to take a step back but realizing that his grip on you tightens. 

“Oh, have you forgotten?” He laughs out, lowering himself more, dragging his lips all the way down your face, neck, chest. 

“Ah, wait–” You panic when you feel his nose against your stomach, threatening to go lower. “I’m like…” You’re embarrassed to say it now. 

After all, you came here with the clear indication of fucking. Period or not, you’re not afraid of a little bit of blood but…this.

“Sunghoon, I’m on my period.” You finally speak into the room, trying to push his face from your stomach. 

“I know.” He smiles, pressing his nose harder against your stomach. “Drove me crazy all day.” He dips his face down instantly, inhaling deeply between your legs.

Something inside of you is insanely turned on by his blatant interest in you. 

“All day?” You ask, hands reaching for his hair as he drags his nose straight through the mess you’ve made. 

“Could smell it, darling.” He laughs, pulling back and looking up at you. “Smells so sweet, not gross. Delicious.”

Why the fuck is the blood smeared against the tip of his nose so alluring? Jungwon was right, you really are into some freaky shit. Then again, it’s not so weird considering you’ve never done this before. Everyone’s gotta start somewhere when it comes to kinks, right? 

“Can smell something else too.” He looks back between your legs, ignoring that you are trying to act like you don’t want to let him. “You’re aroused.” 

Oh. 

And just as you’re preparing for some sort of pressure between your thighs, you feel a waft of cold air rush up your body when he stands and grabs your face with both hands. 

“You never came back.” He hisses against your lips, dragging you back and further into the room with him. “I had to sniff you out like a fucking dog.” 

Your mouth falls open at the spiteful shift in his voice, following his movements all the way into the room until he’s spinning around and pushing you from his hold. You fall back against something insanely soft, and instantly you moan at the feeling of silk against you. 

Barely able to catch your breath, he’s over you. He’s on you. Tucking his face into the crook of your neck with a low rumbled growl in his throat and inhaling over and over again. 

Inhale. Inhale. Inhale. 

And you can feel him nose his way all the way up to your face, opening his eyes and staring straight through you with slack lips just over yours. 

You’re mesmerized by him at this moment. Never has a man acted this way with you and it’s insane to think you’d ever be satisfied with someone who wouldn’t. You almost strain your neck to kiss him, and you truly would have if it weren’t for the fact that you feel him sink his hand into your shorts.

Not even a second to truly comprehend how ice-cold his fingers feel when he slips them down and slides two of them into you. He watches your face when he does it, his own slack lips turning to a smile when you moan out at the smallest of pleasure he wants to offer you. 

“Oh, look at you,” He coos, feeling your arms shoot around his shoulders when he continues to slide the digits in and out of you. “So sticky, what a pretty little mess.” 

You groan in embarrassment at the act, knowing full well that you’ll have to face the fact that you like it at some point after he’s finished with you. You don’t mind admitting it so much now though. The way his fingers slide through the thick mess, forcing the scent of brass to mix with his own cinnamon aroma? To die for, truly. 

“I could just eat you up–” He chokes in a whisper this time, struggling to maintain his composure from the sickening sweet smell of your blood. “Would you like that?”

You lift up instantly, kissing against his slackened smile. It’s one sided, as he simply lets you do it and nothing more. Mostly because he, himself, is spiraling into a frenzy of what he needs more than what you want. It’s all pleasure the same though, as he feels your tongue trace against one of his sharpened teeth.

Just a small bite. Just a taste.

“Ah–” You pull back in a wince, the flavor of blood hitting the back of your taste buds as you look up at him with confusion.

He doesn’t allow much looking though, as you hear that same rumble from his throat right up against your lips. You feel his tongue lick you up, slurping the blood straight from your new wound and moaning through the flavor of it. 

His eyes flutter closed as he tries to hold down his thirst, knowing that his fingers are fucking dripping with this same sweet, red slick. It wouldn’t take much now for him to break and let it all drip down his throat. He could end this now if he’s not careful.

And when he opens his eyes again as he pulls back from your sweet tongue, he notes the look of confusion still on your face. His eyes roll in fond annoyance at you for that, only because you have this stubborn need to question despite having the clear answer bleeding from your mouth. 

“You’re still trying to pretend you don’t realize?” He asks, whispering real close to your lips, darting his tongue out and offering a small kitten lick as he buries his fingers deep. 

Your lips open for him in a moan and he licks into it again. Your still bleeding tongue only drives him further and further from a stable mindset. No one, not in hundreds of years, has tasted this fucking sweet. He almost can’t savor it with the way his body rises from slumber at the mere fucking scent of you from ten blocks away. 

His cock pulses for the first time in decades for you. God, he feels more alive than he did when he was actually cycling blood through his veins. 

“You just sliced open that pretty tongue on my teeth.” He chuckles, basking in the warmth he can only feel with you beneath him. “My fangs, love.” His fingers continue their slide all the while, the sounds of squelching blood filling his ears more than your soft groans for more. “Still, you seem to deny what this is and what I am.” 

You can hear his words, but comprehending them isn't quite as easy. Like, yes, he’s got a vampire kink. Whatever. 

“I get it, you’re kinky.” You huff out, missing the way he stifles a laugh at your denial of the truth. 

“You’re a stubborn one–” He smiles, flashing the same fang that sliced through your tongue. “It’s a bit frustrating. Perhaps even endearing.” 

And then, suddenly, his fingers come to a halt and he waits for you to look at him. Just as you go to speak, he’s sliding his fingers out of your mess so quickly, shushing you with his red stained digits. 

“Now, listen.” 

It’s silent. More silent than you ever thought the world could be. 

“Do you hear it?” 

You shake your head, feeling his fingers leave a trail of your blood against your lips as he drags them away and up to his own mouth. 

There, he hangs his fingers from his mouth, licking gently and tasting thoughtfully before sliding them further in. He sucks them clean in an erotic show of his blood-lust before letting them fall from his still licking tongue. Then, he’s slotting them right back between your legs, wanting more to taste. 

“No? You don’t hear how loud it is?” He asks now in a lower tone, still thirsty, still in need, dipping down to lick the blood from your face. “All that blood in you, bundled up right–” His fingers press hard against your clit. “Here.”

Your body jolts in pleasure, eyes rolling back at the mere sensitivity he forces your body into. God, kinky is right. He knows how to use words. His voice is so elegant while spewing the filth, so proper.

“Ahh, that feels good, doesn’t it?” He questions you in a moan that mimicked your own, now lowering himself from your face and kissing down your clothed chest. Down, down, down. “Do you think you’ll believe me when you feel the blood drain out of you?” His voice echoes in your ears, reminding you of the vampire-like thirst he’s trying to act upon. 

And when he slips your shorts down your legs, you don’t even protest. Which at this point isn’t weird at all. The dude is insanely into it and you can’t help but feel like you can vibe with it if he keeps acting like this. He’s good at roleplaying. 

Instead of an embarrassed protest, you respond to him by spreading your legs and presenting the red mess he’s smeared all over you. Inviting him.

He glances up at you as he watches, saying nothing, thinking nothing except for the fact that– you are perfect. 

In every way, spread out and dripping blood, perfect.

You feel an intense jolt of pain shoot through your body just seconds later, followed by a loud and almost animalistic moan from the man between your legs. You lift slightly as you try to look down at him, witnessing the way he sucks the flesh of your thigh into his mouth, blood weeping from the new wounds his teeth create.

So much blood. He’s the one drunk now, utterly fucking mesmerized by the amount of it you pour for him. Your fleshy thighs offer the freshest, he couldn’t help but take a sip before giving you what your quivering body is truly begging for. He has to quench the genuine thirst before playing with his food, at least. 

And as you watch him it’s like you’re nothing but a piece of meat at this moment. He’s sucking and sucking against your thigh until you’re sure your toes are numb. They’re tingling, and you can physically feel the blood being pulled from you. As if his teeth are two syringes seeping it out of you. 

Af if they are. Not because they actually are, right?

And by the time your toes are effectively filled with static, he finally releases the fleshy bite on your thigh. You stare down, listening to him smack his lips and lick the corners of his mouth, seeing the way he doesn’t make eye contact with you at all before he’s turning his attention and burying his tongue into your crimson coated cunt. Without warning, but with so much eagerness with his tasting lips. 

Your eyes flutter with a loud and strained gasp, eliciting a groan of his own to bubble into the blood that falls against his tongue with each passing pulse of you. He licks in time with your heartbeat, which is fucking insane that you can tell he does it. Never before now have you heard your heart beat so loudly, so frantically in your ears. 

And you would be embarrassed, perhaps even worried that the taste is awful. Maybe it’s too much for him, maybe this kink is all just for show and this is a limit he’s only willing to try once before realizing himself that he doesn’t necessarily like drinking the blood from a woman’s pussy…except– Sunghoon gives you no reason to feel like any of that is true. 

No, no. Oh no. He’s fucking relishing in it and you can tell by the way he moans and skews his head to dig his tongue deeper. You can tell by the way he smothers himself, not coming up for air for even a second of the time he’s spending down there. 

And god, you can feel the mess of it all. Sticky, smearing all over your thighs when his fingers trace you mindlessly before gripping your thighs just to pull you down the bed, closer against his face, sliding his tongue ever deeper.

Moaning, fucking slurping it out of you without so much as a breath. 

He’s not breathing.

And now? You panic, focusing more on the time he’s spending burying his mouth and nose into you than the feeling of it. Your hand shoots down into his hair, pulling his head back and away from you. 

Then your breath is caught in your throat at the sharp image. His eyes blown out, widened at you. Nose, cheeks, chin, tongue all glistening with sticky crimson slick, and a smile.

He smiles at you. 

At least before his tongue is clicking and he’s poking it into the side of his cheek before reaching back, grabbing your hand, and shoving it out of his hair before sinking his face right back between your legs. As if to show you that he was annoyed by that. 

You don’t get to think about it though, because this time he’s licking you more frantically than he already was. Fast tongue flicking and fucking you, his teeth dragging against your pussy lips, refusing to let you believe that he wants to breathe fresh air right now. 

Your hands find purchase in his hair yet again though, and you feel him grip your legs and stiffen his shoulders to keep his head in place just in case you try to pull him from you again. You hear the deep growl. You feel it rumble against you as if to warn you to keep your hands to yourself if you’re not going to let him do exactly what he said he would fucking do. 

So, you don’t pull him away. Instead, you play in his hair with your weak hands. Twisting and twirling strands of it between your fingers until he’s pulling his tongue back on his own. 

A shock to you, truly, that he does it at all. But you guess it makes sense when you feel another sharp pain in your thigh, right below the preview bite he had given you. 

Just when you were gaining feeling back in your toes too. 

And he goes back and forth like that for a while, until his face is utterly soaked in diluted blood and pussy-slick. Until he needs to look at it pulse, and watch how beautiful you still, fucking still, have more to pour out for him. 

He’s amazed, really. Never has he served himself a woman that’s openly bleeding for him like this. After all, he prefers to drink his dinner from the carotid artery and be done with it. He was far more creative back in the day though, you know, when his cock still worked. 

Most of his sexual pleasure came from drinking alone. Never getting hard but always reaching climax in one way or another when he gets that last, delicious drop of blood from his victims. But now? Oh, now. You’ve stirred his arousal back to life. Not from pure hunger, but lust.

It’s been so long that he’s lusted. So, so fucking long since he’s cared enough to fuck his prey or give in to the temptation of menstrual blood. In fact, he can’t even recall ever allowing his victims to fall away from the drowsy lure he puts them in. Many of them didn’t know what was happening to them before death and he preferred it that way. 

Until you. An average looking commoner with insane fucking blood. Devilish blood. Divine, demonic, angelic, fucking celestial tasting blood. 

After all this time, he’s had beautiful face after beautiful face. He’s had men, women, celebrities, false-prophets, and even purely divine bodies.. But you…oh no, he can’t simply kill you like those utter throw-aways.

There was a reason he didn’t end you the first night. Something in him caught fire on the taste of your drunken blood. The alcohol you had ran through his veins along with a taste he’s never once fathomed existing. It was the first time in hundreds of years where he forced himself to let you walk out of his quarters. 

Blood with no comparison. So thick, so sweet, so…damning. How could he have just killed you there? How could he pretend like it’s not addicting? Like he didn’t want you to continue producing more and more of it, all for him to drink up?

Of course he wants all of it. He wants to drain you to your last fucking drop, but then he’d never taste it again. Not in thousands of years, at least. So now, as his cock pulses awake and your heavy flow only produces more and more for his hungry mouth to lick up– fuck.

It’s been so long since he’s felt something for a victim like this, and even longer since he’s wanted to use his cock. No, needing to use it. It feels almost foreign to him now after so many centuries, to fuck and eat at the same time. To indulge in all the pleasure, and not just the one that keeps him alive. To want you to feel the pleasure too, to need you to want him without the false sleep forcing it.

You. 

You’re the one. You’re the one he’s going to keep. For as long as you’ll let him, and when you stop letting him, he’ll have no choice but to lure you again. Forever. All for him. 

“Love,” He rasps out, staring at the way your pussy shines so prettily in front of him, the pulse drawing him to near starvation despite being drenched in his meal. “Never have I wanted to fuck before I–” 

Kill, is the word he almost used. It’s instinctual, but instead he releases a moan from his throat at the mere thought ignoring that instinct. Drinking, sipping. Forever just a fucking appetizer and never the full meal. He can settle. He will settle.

Never. Truly never has he wanted to stop himself from drinking just to fuck and he needs you to know that. The feeling is too erotic for even him to comprehend right now, meshing with his hunger and making him feel –-

Gods be damned, he could kill you. 

He should kill you. Given the fact that he has never let a meal leave this room without being drained entirely. Never while they’re awake and fully aware anyway. Insanity. You’ve made him go insane, losing his wits enough to treat you as something more than a victim.

Despite hunting you as one. Despite never having to hunt anyone like he has you. Wanting you to be here willingly. Wanting you to love the feeling of his thirst. Wanting you to learn how good the drain feels. Wanting you to know what he is and needing you to love it. 

Needing you to stay alive. 

Insane. 

He’s fucking losing it.

He knows that if he can never smell this scent again, if he can never taste it, or have your fingers in his hair, if he can never want to fuck again? Oh, he’d crumble. 

He’d take a walk at noon.

You’re not dying tonight. In fact, never shall you feel the cold slab of a morgue freezer if he has anything to do with it. No blood wasted when it comes time for you, and no life truly lost either. 

If just for the sex. If just to quench a never ending thirst. 

If just to live in insanity.

“Before you–” You release in a breath that he chases. As if craving the life under him like an animal. “Before you, what?”

“Kill.” He whispers as he swallows each breath of yours, tasting the sweet sleep that you once held in your body. His own eyes feeling drowsy as if you have your own lure on him now. 

Even the panicked gasp you release at his choice of word there, he swallows it, kissing you hard in a drowsy groan and smearing the blood all through the kiss, letting your breath rumble out of his mouth as if the moan were from his own lungs. 

“So vacuous.” He chuckles now, feeling the pleasure of his cock jolt through his body. He presses himself between your legs, relishing in the sticky blood seeping straight through his sleep pants. “Do you feel that?” He continues, rutting against you as if he’s a virgin of all that he’s experiencing right now, licking each smear of blood from your cheeks and chin. 

“Ah, Sunghoon,” You groan, but you try to be serious in your tone. Feeling the orgasm that once was bubbling up settle back in your stomach. “You’re making a mess.” 

“Mm, I am.” He mutters mindlessly, pressing harder against you now as the taste settles in his throat. “Love, tell me. You feel it?” 

Of course you fucking feel it. 

The nod you lend pleases him, knowing that it’s not just his imagination. Finally, he can feel the warmth of a living being wrapped around him. Finally, he doesn’t feel so cold. 

“You can’t fathom what it is that you do to me,” He continues his sweet talk, running his lips down to your neck, leaving trails of that blood all the way before immediately piercing his teeth into the same wounds he left on you already. He feels your pulse against his teeth when he sucks and only groans weaker against you as he ruts. 

“Ah–” You wince in pain again, feeling the wound reopen with a cold and sharp prick. The pain ignites something inside of you to press your hips up, sliding yourself against his red-drenched pants. 

He chuckles into his bite at your willingness, his hands reaching straight down to shove his pants down in one movement. Euphoria runs through him at the feeling of your warm blood against him when he presses back against you.

Really, the feeling alone paired with the taste of your fresh blood yet again only drives him to keep going. After all, he has all the time in the world. His intention to keep you here only lends him the ability to press his length straight into that bloody, sopping wet hole of yours. The one pulsing for him, the one that lends his favorite smell, taste, and feeling in the world. 

His teeth are forced to retract when he throws his head back at the sensation of sinking deep into your cunt, one fluid motion reminding him of how much he loved this feeling before. How often he’d fuck, and fuck, and fuck until suddenly, he just– couldnt. 

You’ve ignited so much life within him, even while doing nothing more than lying here bleeding. No longer does he feel bored with the world considering he’s managed to find you in it. He could possibly even love you if you let him.

Especially with the way you react nearly the same as he does. As if you haven’t fucked before. As if you’ve never mixed scents with another being before ever coming to this city to chase your own demise. The little sounds you make could be so much more than what you think they are. 

They’re so similar to the ones you make when he bites, when he sucks, oh, so so similar. So deeply seeped in pleasure, pain, hesitation.

“Darling, are you afraid?” Sunghoon manages to say as he feels himself warm from inside of your tense body. “Do you believe me now? Do you understand now?”

You frantically shake your head at the tear of his cock spreading your walls open around it. That one slide rendering you near faint considering the amount of blood he’s taken from you already. The feeling of…ice. It’s in you, running from your veins all throughout your body. So, so, fucking cold. 

No, no, no. No living being on this earth could feel this hard inside of you while being this…oh. His hands have been cold on you too. Always. His scalp under your fingernails as you scratched. His lips, his tongue, all of it was freezing until your blood was coating him. Everything about him is ice.

Still, you shake your head through the pleasure, cock warming him both literally and unintentionally. He just sits inside of you, feeling the beat of your heart gush that same blood past his length and out of you. Your eyes slightly open to look at him, afraid of what you’ll see. 

He’s smiling. His eyes are…brighter.

“C–cold.” You manage to stutter out, nearly feeling brain freeze from the way he pulls his hips back and plunges into you again, warm blood splashing out and against his pelvis, coating your thighs more. And oh, that bite on your thigh, it’s dripping again. 

“So cold, yes?” He chuckles when he dips down, moving his hips steadily in and out of your sticky mess. No longer thirsty, just…aroused. “Do you understand?” 

You frantically shake your head again, grabbing onto him from over his shirt. You’re panicking inside, your fingers gripping so tight, trying to find heat. Needing heat. 

How did you not think about this more? It took this to recognize that he never warms? And he’s smiling at your panic? 

God, but it feels so, so fucking good. 

“Love,” He coos at your panic, pistoning his hips easily with the slide, bringing both of his hands to your face and forcing you to look at him. “I’m dead.”

Ah. 

So he is. 

Yet, the feeling of him inside of you feels better than you’ve ever had. The way his hands hold your face, the way his eyes blow out for you, the way his entire face is tinted in red. He’s so alive yet…

Entirely dead. 

“You’re afraid?” He asks through his own forgotten pleasure, wanting you to stay but entirely willing to put you to sleep so this doesn’t have to end. 

“Sunghoon,” You interrupt any words he’s about to give you, opting to continue fighting the truth when you note the softer tone of voice he uses despite the quickening pace of his hips. “Harder.”

Oh, the fire within burns colder than it ever has at those words. He doesn't even need to pull you? You don’t want to pretend this isn’t happening? You’re accepting him? 

If you want him to go harder, he’ll make you feel like no other. Harder he goes, using all of his pent up frustration of not being able to drain you fucking dead, all of his strength, all of everything he’s missed out for the past centuries– all of it. It’s behind his thrusts now as he slams into you. The blood that splatters out only makes the moment all the more grand to him. 

Breaths leave you with each slam, the sticky sound from below being drowned out by the sheer sound your heart rate in your ear. You’re still panicking, but you can’t help but want more. After all, surely what’s left for you after he’s done is….no, it’s not real.

He feels the fear pulse around his cock and moans out at it, the squeeze so tight, the gush so delicious. This entire room smells of you, and he wants it to be fucking drenched in you. The fear inside of you right now only intensifies the pleasure, and he knows he should be calming you through it, he knows he should tell you that you’re making out of this alive, but–

The way the heart beats so frantically when one is terrified. You’re dripping with fear, the smell of your blood intensifies with each petrifying pulse squeezing his cock to the point he feels his own heart make an attempt to pulse. Your life runs through him entirely out of fear that you’ll lose it. 

He can’t tell you, not when your body reacts so flawlessly. Exactly how it’s supposed to react. So delicious is that fear, he wonders if it makes your blood taste any hotter. He dips down, sinking his teeth into your neck once again and confirms his suspicions. It does taste hotter, sweeter, and it pumps itself so beautifully against his eager fangs. Almost as if you truly bleed for him, because he’s not even needing to suck for it at this point. 

It just drips, and pours, and bubbles out all for him to swallow up. 

You push through it though, the pain is so good, and if this is what it’s like to die, perhaps you’ve found yourself in a lucky position. At least you’re not being ripped to pieces by a stranger, or crushed beneath your own car on a highway. At least this way, you’re being held and seemingly adored.

And the fear, excitement, and pure adrenaline in your body forces it out of you. A rush of heat slamming Sunghoon right in his gut when you convulse under him. Legs shaking as you moan out both in disbelief and intense ecstasy. The blood tastes even sweeter now for him, so sweet that he has to pull back in a guttural and demonic growl.

It’s been so, so long since he’s felt a woman cum around him. His own body reacts in an instant, releasing his own thick secretion into you as you shake through it. Sweating, panting, drooling, crying, bleeding. All for him. 

And the explosion behind his eyes is a reminder to keep you alive. He forces himself to keep the inhale from happening as he plunges into you one last time, coating the inside of your bloody walls with a flurry of freezing ropes. Amazed at the feeling he has long forgotten, his body shakes through it and renders him near psychotic for the release. 

You continue to shake with him, shivering at how the man makes you feel as if you’ve been lying in snow for days, but you keep your eyes closed. 

You’re terrified of him, of this, of the truth hitting you square between the eyes as if it wasn’t obvious all along. Fantasies, legends, fairy tales. How many of them are based in reality? 

You know what’s coming now, based on those same stories. 

The last bite, the drain, fuzzy images, death.

And you embrace for it, trying to relish in the post-orgasm bliss before it happens because you know there’s no way to run from him. If he’s truly what he says he is, there’s no chance in this world that you can stop him. You’re going to die, and the strange way in which your brain accepts the inevitable is more calming than petrifying. 

You never knew you’d be able to prepare for it like this, but here you are. Waiting for it. Accepting it. And when you feel the air of his body shift down to you, right up against your neck, you squeeze your eyes shut and hold your breath.

His cold hand tilts your face and all you can do is anticipate as you feel his teeth graze the abused and swollen marks there. 

Here it is. 

You inhale deeply, hoping that if there’s an afterlife, this last breath will be a good memory for you until–

A kiss.

He kisses the wounds. He licks them. He nuzzles his cold nose against them, and then he pulls out of you and lays directly on top of you. 

It’s silent as you lay here, still trying to prepare to fucking die and he’s just prolonging it? 

“Get it over with.” You gripe, frustration dripping out in your weak voice. 

It’s laughable, really, that you’ll sound so argumentative and petty over the loss of your life. So laughable that even he’s chuckling about it, right against your ear with no breath fanning against your skin. 

“Get what over with, darling?” He asks, not having felt this drowsy drained state in so long. 

Your mind is racing though, seemingly trying to think of everything that has ever happened in your life onto everything you wish still could happen, only to consistently land on the fact that you don’t want to believe what’s happening. 

You know very well the denial you’re forcing yourself into, even in the face of demise, you don’t want to believe any of this. 

“I still can’t believe that you’re— No,” You dead-pan before taking in a terrified breath, still keeping your eyes closed. “They’re not real.”

“I’m very, very real.” Sunghoon argues back, infatuated with the denial you try to keep. “You know that I am.” 

“So, you have to kill me then?” Your voice gets smaller as you accept the truth little by little, your breath shakier. “Fucking get it over with then, stop trying to savor it, it’s not like I can run now, right?” 

You still like the way he laughs, so breathy despite having no breath of his own. And through that laugh, he lends another kiss before you feel all of that weight lift from you and dip onto the bed next to you instead. 

“Don’t beg for it.” Sunghoon warns, pulling away from you and forcing his instinct to remember the release of the orgasm he just had. “I won’t be able to stop myself if you ask me so prettily.” 

You pause, your eyes opening against your will as you look at him. He’s facing away from you, but you can see the damp blood drying in the strands of his hair. Your eyes trail down, a puddle of blood staining nearly the entire lower half of the bed and it’s still dripping out of you. 

Or perhaps, that’s whatever it is he fucking shoved into you and fucked out of himself. 

“None of this is happening.” You say to yourself. “I did not just fuck a vampire.” 

“You’re right.” He comments with another laugh. “A vampire just fucked you.” 

Well. You’re still not ready to believe that. Even with the absence of heat, even with the lack of breathing. 

“Prove it.” You ask, unsure as to why you’re wanting it both to be real and just a dream.

You back away when he immediately does as he’s asked. Turning to you and crawling over you. There, he lowers his body, chest to your cheek. 

“Listen.” He says, reaching to hold your face and press it up and against his chest. “Anything?”

You wait, listening for a thump, anything to prove he’s wrong. Fucking any sound at all to blow his cover. 

You’re frozen as you listen, your body going into fight or flight as the seconds turn to minutes. Unfortunately, your body is not a fighter, nor a flier. You’re stuck with his hand on your cheek, holding you so tightly against something you wish was alive. 

A little thump, thump, thump could be the most relieving sound to you, but no. There’s nothing. 

You pull away from him now, body still frozen but head running a mile a minute. How many proofs does he need to provide for you to understand that it’s not fantasy? 

And finally, you feel your body jerk away from him on its own. He’s startled by the movement and you use that short second to roll off of the bed. You do your best to stand, but your brain immediately pulses in pain. Your vision goes fuzzy, dizzy.

Right, you’ve lost a lot of blood tonight. To think your toes aren’t still numb, to think you’d be able to stand without dropping to the ground.

“Thousands of years.” Sunghoon stands quickly, stalking over you and wrapping his arms around you. There, he presses you back on the bed and straddles your hips. “I’ve never told another soul and let them live to remember it– until you.”

You shake under him, the weight feeling more dead now than it ever has. He’s heavy as he holds you down, but somehow his grip on you is gentle. His voice is soft. His eyes are hesitant. He’s not holding you here to hurt you, it seems.

“My love, I told you time and time again,” He glances away from you, feeling something within him shrivel at the thought that now you’re unwilling. “Is it different now? To find that I’ve told no lies to you?” 

Still, he soothes you as you try to comprehend reality. You think hard through the dizzy fog of blood-loss, running more with your mind than your body. He did tell you. And you’re still alive. He just drank and drank from you, and you’re still alive. 

He came to your apartment, he told you he smelled you. 

He’s never lied. 

You just refused to listen. 

He drank you, he fucked you, he held you, and now he’s holding you. 

“I don’t want you to fear me.” Sunghoon admits with sad eyes, trying to ignore how long it’s been since he’s felt sad at all. 

So many emotions you force him to feel, this was not one he was looking forward to. 

“How can I not be afraid?” You breathe out in slurred speech, as if to mock him, because you now know that he truly can’t do it himself. 

“It’s too late to be afraid.” He says apologetically. “You’d have died weeks ago had I wanted it.” 

Why are you still falling in love with his voice? With his stupid grammar, and his horrifying dead-skin? Even with the fear in your stomach, why does this make your heart flutter?

“I’ve never felt so full,” He admits now, releasing his grip on you slowly. He can smell your heart slow, knowing you’re starting to calm now. “Until now.” 

You stare up at him as your eyes recover back to clear vision, in awe of how gentle a killer is being with you. Inspecting the way he’s drenched in your blood, yet you truly still are breathing. He could have killed you time and time again. 

But he didn’t. 

He’s never once lied to you about what he is, and still you struggle to believe what he says. Even when his words match his actions. Sure, he’s a vampire, but he’s not going to kill you? 

What reason do you have to believe him save for the blatant truth behind it? Do you want to believe him? Would you rather be dead?

He knows you can’t fathom the truth so quickly though, and that’s why he’s being gentle. He has nothing more than patience to give to you, if it’ll end in your acceptance anyway. The fact that he can hear your heart beating correctly again only gives him hope that he’s right about not having killed you on the first night.

After all, he truly hasn’t lied to you. Never has he felt full, even after killing several a night. Always hungry, always thirsty, always needing more and more of the syrupy life strangers offer to him under his lure. But you. Entirely aware, flowing with blood that drives him crazy…you’ve managed to fill that desire in him. 

Why should he lie to you? Why would he kill you if there is no need? Despite fighting the instinct, he’s satiated by you. His cold body warms with yours. He will never get enough of you, so how on earth could he just…take that away from himself?

And you do stop fighting. In fact, you lay with him in a bloodied mess and sleep. Despite wanting to ask questions, wondering if he can even sleep at all. Your body is tired, your mind is still petrified, and your hands still cling to the source of it, unsure if you’ll make it to morning at all.

Still, somehow, this feels holy. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

PART TWO

#enhypen smut #park sunghoon smut #sunghoon smut

[wh1msic4alwasab1]

𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ 𓇼

synopsis: you yearn to step onto the sand, relinquish your tail for just a moment and experience the world above. You find a man capable of granting you your wish, but there’s something wrong.

tags: mermaid reader, fingering, penetration, beach sex, vulgar, explicit.

wrd cnt: 1.6k

a/n NOT PROOFREAD: i had to get a little creative bc i was researching mermaid intercourse bruh i was deep in the google trenches…hope this is still good !

The moon shines down beneath the crystal clear waters, casting a mesmerizing glow on the vibrant coral reefs and schools of colorful fish. You were no stranger to this enchanting underwater world. But today, as you swam through the familiar marine life, your thoughts were consumed with a longing for something more. You had heard stories of a new world above the surface, a world where creatures with two legs roamed and breathed air instead of water. It was a world that both intrigued and terrified you.

As you gazed up at the shimmering surface, you couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to have shed your tail and explore this foreign land. But as a mermaid, it was only a dream, a distant desire that seemed impossible to fulfill. But little did you know, fate had other plans in store for you.

As you continued to swim along the coast to catch a glimpse of the stars, you find a man with long silver hair walking above the earths hide.

You try to conceal yourself in the night, but he takes quite a quick notice of you.

You get startled from his gaze, but his eyes shine a shade of blue so vibrant they hold you inbetween currents like a fish on a hook.

“Hello there, do not worry, I won’t hurt you”. The man says to you from above, his hands infront of him to show you his good intentions.

You swim up the sand, letting the water glide you up onto a rock, letting your tail lay on the sand; draped over.

He kneels down, “Are you okay?”. You’re avast ways from your home, but you couldn’t miss a chance to actually talk to a human.

”Yes, yes I’m alright.” You began to study his features like a predator ready to strike; his winged-lashes flickering.

You’ve never met a human before, you’d heard stories of the good and bad nature of them, but he seemed different. “You’re a mermaid.” His question sounding more like an awestruck statement. You nod slowly, unsure of his reaction.

“Amazing, I’ve been told your kind had ceased ever since tales of the property emerged. I never thought I’d get to see one again.” He says with a sense of wonder and disbelief.

You can feel your face conform at his words, “Again? Whats is your name?” you ask, suddenly breaking out of his trance.

“Neuvillette. I may look it, but I am not human. I’ve lived many years, and befriended many of your kind. I am just glad to be given the reassurance of your resilience”. He says with honesty.

“Thank you- I am y/n”. You finally tell him.

“Beautiful. What brings you to the coast?” He wonders out loud.

“I’m- just curious. I wished to take a look upon the world above me.”

“Curiosity can lead us to great adventures,” Neuvillette said, his eyes full of admiration as he gazed at you. “But it can also bring us trouble. You are brave to venture to the surface alone.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his words, feeling a sense of pride swell within you. “I couldn’t resist the urge to explore. And now, I have found something much more intriguing than just the surface world,” you said, your eyes flickering to Neuvillette’s lips.

He seemed to sense your desire and stepped closer to you, his hand reaching out to caress your cheek. “And what might that be?” he whispered, his voice low and sensual.

“I wish for legs…” You confess, teasing the handsome stranger just a bit.

“And you think I can grant them to you?”

“You are the hydro dragon, aren’t you? I couldn’t quite out my finger on it. But we have a many great tales about you…and your abilities.”

“You are correct. But I must warn you, it could be an unpleasant first feeling.”

“But you can do it?!” You flap your tail in excitement a few times, the hair that covers your wet and exposed chest flaling around as you wait for his confirmation.

“I can…but I must be here to supervise you. A lot can go wrong, and the people of this land may not all be so accepting”. He warns.

You take time to consider the need for your yearning, but still you hold onto the dream you desire so deeply.

“I’m sure of this.”

He releases a deep sigh, “Alright, please allow me.”

With his large palms, he picks you up off the rock; his hand under your slippery tail and holding you bridal style to sit you onto his lap.

You apologize about ruining his clothes with the salty sea water, but he pays no mind.

“Don’t look down. Simply look up here.” He commands, holding your gaze with his own as he soothes the length of your tail, speaking whispers you can’t transcribe, slowly feeling your body half lighten exponentially.

You suddenly feel a weight lifted off you, and look down with his permission.

Your face lights up, and you feel as if you’re dreaming. As if any moment now you’ll wake up under the sea foam and find yourself with a tail.

But this was real, and you thanked the man with everything in you.

“You’re welcome, but remember that there are still-“

“Arghh- Something’s wrong…”

His eyebrows furrow, not seeing anything physically wrong with you which only makes him more worried.”

“What’s wrong my dear?” He says, trying to be respectful and looking away from your naked body.

“Something’s feeling- so hot.” You squirm, looking to him for help.

“Guide me to where you need.”

Taking his hand in yours, you trail him over your stomach before placing it on your growing heat, making his hand cup your crotch.

“Right here” you plead.

His face was covered in deep red, unable to speak.

“That- is quite unusual…I’ve never seen that happen. Does it hurt?” He says with true concern, trying to conceal his arousal.

You shake your head, unable to describe what it felt.

“What is this? Have you ever felt this?”

Neuvillettes voice hitches as he’s even more embarrassed and trying to find the right words to explain what you feel.

“Well, not this exactly no. But, I think I understand the issue”.

He casts a shadow over you, his large body coming close to whisper something in your ear.

“You’re feeling arousal, and there’s only one way to get rid of it.”

You feel a lump in your throat, eyes locked into his as you feel even more helpless.

“Please…” You plead, grinding your hips towards his hand, “Help me get rid of it…”

He smiles down at you, spreading your wet lips apart, “It would be my pleasure, sweet mermaid.”

With a gentle tug, he pushes your back onto the rock you were sat on earlier.

He parts your legs and keeps the bottoms of your thighs on top of his, giving him a good view of his fingers delving into your tight hole.

“Mmfph- that feels…so good”. You confess.

His hand moves your hair behind your neck, your chest fully on display as his free hand squeezes your mounds and roll your nipples under his fingertips, giving you two sources of pleasure unknown to you before.

“Neuvillette- I need more.” You beg, putting your hand on top of his, making him squeeze your breast harder.

“Anything for you, y/n.” He flashes a small smile before putting your hand on growing bulge.

“This is what is going to help you find your release, sweetheart.”

He helps you unzip his pants, and out springs his cock; falling right into your grasp.

Your eyes widen, it felt so big in your hands you didn’t possibly know what to do with it.

He helped you pleasure him, making your hand stroke him up and down as he thrusted into your palm.

“You’re so gentle…such a sweet thing.”

You feel your cunt drool even more, something so unknown to you made you feel so feral.

He positions himself at your entrance, kneeling perfectly before you with your legs wrapped around him.

“This…goes right in here.” He grunts out, pushing his thick, veiny cock fully into your perfect cunt and hearing your pleasure heighten quickly in the form of moans and gasps.

He started with slow, deep thrusts; getting you used to his size and the feeling of your own hole stretching.

You felt like you could pass out if he didn’t keep going, the ambiance of waves crashing against the rock behind you and the sounds of your wet skin slapping together drove you wild. The sea water brushed against your ass but his tongue slid against yours in such a manner that made your entire body feel like it was under the sun.

“Do you like how this feels?” He asks, grunting in your ear and whimpering at how your cunt squeezes him.

You nod profusely, thanking him about a million times as he keeps fucking you on the sand, holding your waist and trialing sloppy kisses down your neck and chest.

Your breathing was heavy and your mind was swirling with pleasure as he continued to thrust into you. You were completely lost in the moment, just the two of you on the beach, your bodies entwined in ecstasy.
He picked up the pace, his thrusts becoming faster and more urgent. He could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge, and he wanted to take you there with him

“Y/n- keep squeezing around me like that, fuck…such a perfect hole.”

Your moans turned into screams as you both reached your climax together, waves of pleasure crashing over you like the ocean behind you.
You collapsed onto the sand, panting and trying to catch your breath. He rolled onto his back next to you, a content smile on his face as he ran his fingers through your hair.


“That was amazing,” you said, pulling him close to him. “I’ve never felt anything like that before”.

“Well you have a few more hours of it if you so please.”

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

#jo’s posts #neuvillette #neuvilette genshin #neuvillete x reader #neuvillette smut #nuevillette #neuvillette genshin #genshin neuvillette #genshin smut

[tojisun]

i would give anything for some simon fluff rn bc i feel like my bf is gonna break up with me soon and to have simon be a point of comfort would be everything to me rn. ily sun!

-🔪💕

oh my love, im so sorry to hear that. i hope and wish and pray that he wouldnt; that things could be talked through and issues could be smoothed over. i wish so much love to be on your way right now. i love you so so much and take care.

i rushed this in hopes of u seeing it faster and even then, it still took so long for me to post it; i hope, at least, that it turned out alright and that u can find comfort in this even if just a bit :’(

@/plutism for divider

simon breathes in deeply, quietly, his body slowly leaning to the door frame as he gazes at you.

you still don’t know that he’s back, busy humming to yourself as you finish preparing your breakfast. he has to talk to you about spatial awareness, acutely worried about the fact that you haven’t heard the door open or clocked in the extra shoes stowed in the shoe rack or, the most obvious one, noticed his presence.

yeah, those are worrying alright. but, right now, simon takes it – you – all in slowly. softly. deeply.

he takes in the way you’re dressed in nothing but his clothes – an old military shirt that he didn’t even know you kept, his pyjama pants with the excess fabric folded to hell so that you wouldn’t trip.

his dog tags, their quiet chime ringing in his ears melodiously.

simon ignores the prickles in the back of his eyes or the sudden lump lodged in his throat, busy cataloguing the changes you’ve done in your guys’ home – the potted plants by the kitchen window sill, the new wall clock that’s shaped like a cat instead of the old circular one he remembers getting from the dollar store.

the calendar on the fridge, days marked with x-es as you count down the days until simon’s presumed return from his mission. simon gave you a fake date so that he can still surprise you without fully disrupting your routine. johnny almost gave it away with his ramblings, but it worked out perfect in the end.

because in the end, here he is, basking in your presence, forging reality from what had just been a loving nostalgia of returning to you. because in the end, he is back home

simon carefully knocks on the door, smiling apologetically when you whipped around to look at him with a belted scream. your palm lurches to steady your beating heart, the other grasping the countertops, and simon’s laughter trickles into the air.

“si?” you gasp out, voice so quiet like you are afraid that he isn’t real.

“yeah,” simon replies just as softly; just as fearful of having this beautiful dream of coming back home to you be ripped away from his reach.

you’re running to him in his next breath and simon doesn’t even think, doesn’t even hesitate, before he’s meeting you halfway.

warm bodies collide, pairs of arms snaking around each other, pulling and tugging. he maps his palms on your back, feeling you better, familiarizing your body against his again. your hands fist at his jumper, nose nuzzling along his neck to breathe him in.

he hears you say his name, a trembly little thing. simon whispers your own, hoping you hear the way your name drips from his tongue like honey, packed with reverence and love.

your breath hitches, a choked sob replacing your gasp. “again,” you say, the words pressed on his skin. “say my name again.”

he does, murmuring your name again and again. not stopping even when he scoops you up in his arms to gently prop you up on the countertop.

you are full on sobbing now. “simon,” you reply. “simon. my simon.”

your simon.

that’s right – he is yours. all yours. just yours.

“yeah,” he replies with a hiccup, then a wet chuckle. “yours. and you? you are mine, yeah?”

you pull away just a bit, just enough that your eyes are meeting his. simon’s lips wobble at finally having a proper view of you.

“yes,” you rasp out. “‘m all yours.”

the first kiss is desperate even when it is slow; it is all languid and deep. his palms cup the back of your head and your hands trail hesitant touches before cupping his jaw; not once letting go. not once letting your hands stray away from him.

there are so many things simon wants to say: i missed you. i love you. you look good in my clothes. i love you. you are so beautiful. i love you. but they all fade away as he deepens the kiss because in this moment, nothing else matters but you in his embrace. but him back in your arms.

but this love that sustains him.

i hope, even if just a little, this helped. i love u nonnie <33

#🔪💕 #suns.f #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley fluff #simon ghost riley #ask #suns #i hope this feels like a warm hug coming from me. take care sweetheart

[daisynik7]

Business Trip

husband!Nanami x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~1.7k

Summary: Nanami hates going on business trips now that he has you in his life. Even with food and hotel expenses paid for by his company, it’s not enough to distract him from the fact that he misses you. The two of you have the perfect solution for this, which includes a vivid imagination and the help of a little, but mighty, toy. cw: sex-toy use (vibrator), phone sex, explicit sexual content, language, Nanami is a bit mean, dirty talk, use of pet-names (honey, sweetie, princess), reader is called whore and slut (endearing lol), just pure nasty smut. Author’s Notes: More husband!Nanami smut! I was inspired to write this because I just purchased my very first vibe two weeks ago and boy, is it something. Hope you like this filth! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated! Thanks for reading! Divider credits to @/cafekitsune! Tagging the lovely @liliorsstuff-blog bc I love her and Nanami is her husband. 😉

Nanami has a hard time when he has to go out of town for a business trip. He never used to mind it before; in fact, he liked being sent away to a different city every once in a while, especially when the food and hotel expenses were paid for. However, ever since the two of you have been together, he dreads them because it means time away from you. And he hates being apart from you. Absolutely hates it. And to be honest, you hate it too. 

This time, he’s sent to Osaka for a convention, staying at a swanky hotel covered by his company. He takes full advantage of this, ordering room service, indulging in a bottle or two of liquor from the mini bar. He even wraps himself in a fluffy robe after showering, sitting in bed with hair still wet at the tips. A single tap of his phone and he’s calling you, waiting a single ring for you to pick up. “Hi baby!” you answer, his mood instantly lifted at the sound of your cheery voice. 

“How are you, princess?” 

“Good. Just in our room now. How was your day?”

He spends the next several minutes recounting today’s festivities, including a funny story about him sneaking a second complimentary bento for lunch. You rant to him about your coworkers’ petty drama involving missing office supplies and stolen meals from the fridge. You both share what you ate for dinner, you complimenting the picture he sent earlier of the full spread ordered through room service. He sends you a quick snapshot of his current view of his hotel room, including his bare feet sticking out from under the robe. 

“Your room is so nice. Look at your toes!” you laugh. “Are you going to sleep soon?”

“Not yet. Still waiting for my hair to dry.” He pauses, contemplating for a split second before asking, “Are you in bed now?”

“Yup, all snuggled under the covers.”

He smiles to himself, picturing you cocooned in the thick comforter the two of you share, curled to the right side of the bed where you usually sleep. “Do you miss me?”

“Of course I do. I miss you so much.”

Without thinking, he spreads his legs wider, getting more comfortable against the pillows. “I miss you too, princess. I wish I was there with you right now.”

“Me too.”

There’s a moment of silence, tension hanging heavy in the static noise between you. Nanami decides to stop beating around the bush. It’s obvious what you both want. You’ve been married long enough, together even longer, there’s no shame or secrets anymore. “Wish I could fuck you right now,” he confesses.

You moan through the speaker, thighs splayed, reaching towards your pussy. Tonight, you’re wearing one of his oversized t-shirts, his scent lingering on the fabric, making you feel safe and secure in his absence. You sink into the cushions, whispering a breathy, “Baby.”

“Tell me what you’re wearing right now.”

“Just your t-shirt and my underwear.”

“Oh yeah? One of your silky ones?” 

You hum, confirming his suspicions as he loosens the knot of his robe, folding back the cotton to expose his hardening cock. “God, I bet you look so good right now.”

You giggle softly, lifting the hem of the shirt past your stomach, fingers brushing your skin delicately, imagining his instead. 

His voice is low, thick with lust. “I want to hear you come. Can you do that for me?”

“Mm-hm,” you respond, slipping underneath the waistband, teasing your clit with the pad of your middle finger. 

He clicks his tongue disapprovingly, already knowing what you’re doing. “Not with your fingers, honey. Use the vibrator, remember?”

A whine escapes your mouth while you reach for the drawer to retrieve the small toy, the one you bought recently to supplement nights alone like this. He was the first to test it out on you, though. Made sure it was good enough to satisfy your needs. The recent memory of him pressing the fluttering tip to your clit, pumping wet fingers in and out of your cunt, has you throbbing. 

You push your panties past your knees, sliding them off completely at your ankles. With the blanket hastily stripped from your body, you spread your thighs wide, completely exposed from the waist down. A small bead of lube is just enough to get it slick. You rub the oiled tip up and down your pussy, finger on the button, anticipating the intense sensation.

“Don’t turn it on yet,” he demands. He wraps his hands around the base of his cock, slow strokes to start. “Tease it a little bit. Just like I do it.” 

Your husband always likes to take his time with you, no matter how desperate and aching for him you are. And when you’re two hundred plus miles away from each other, you predict he’s going to draw this out as long as he possibly can, both for his pleasure and yours. Not that you’re complaining.

You play with your clit, tingling bud pulsing against the smooth exterior of the vibrator. He huffs, “Don’t hold back. I want you dripping onto to the sheets. Can you do that for me, honey?”

Another moan escapes your lips, envisioning the mess you’re about to make with his sultry voice guiding you through it. “I can’t do it alone,” you whine, finger right on the trigger, raring to go. “Help me, Kento.”

“I’m right here, princess. Don’t worry. Just listen to me, okay? Follow my every word.”

You nod, hypnotized by each syllable uttered from his lust laden lips, like an obedient slut. You’ve almost forgotten that you’re alone in bed, convinced he’s whispering filthy instructions directly in your ear beside you, watching you unravel with the dormant toy pressed to your pussy. “Can you turn it on now, honey?” 

He’s gentle and affectionate in the beginning, hiding wicked desires behind endearing pet-names. Soon, he’ll start taunting you, tormenting you for being so fucking sensitive, so fucking needy. The two sides of him work together in perfect sync, angel and devil, both determined to make you lose yourself in the throes of passion. There’s nothing he loves more than seeing you, or in this case, hearing you, completely unhinged for him, and only him. 

When you finally push the button, the low buzz playing in the background, he can’t help but increase the pace of his strokes. He pictures your thighs open wide, the shaking tip nestled between your delicate pussy lips, the vibrations stimulating your clit, radiating down to your pointed toes. Head thrown back into the pillows, cheeks hot, tongue sticking out in that adorable dumb expression you make whenever you’re being fucked. It won’t take long for you to climax, not when he’s on the phone guiding you as he jerks his twitching cock. Just the thought of your body spasming from exhilaration is enough to get him off. 

“That’s it, right on your clit, honey. Does it feel good?” He knows it does, judging by how the only response he receives are your shameless moans. He chuckles, stroking himself faster. “I can’t understand you, honey. Does it feel good?” Still no reply, he growls, “Answer me.”

You choke on your spit, drool leaking from the sides of your lips. When you catch your breath, you let out a trembling, “Yes!”, resulting in another sinister laugh from him. 

“Feels so good, you can’t even speak properly, can you? Too fucked out to even think, huh? Nasty slut.” His devilish side kicks in, hell-bent on hearing you orgasm, to have you coming so hard you spill onto the sheets. “I married such a whore, didn’t I? That’s what you are, a fucking whore. You’re so fucking slutty for me, I love it.”

You’re a whimpering mess now, the vibe sending you into a spiral, clit aching from the relentless tremors. There’s not a coherent thought in your brain; you’re incapable of admitting to him that you’re close. You let him figure it out when you cry out, “Fuck!”, legs quivering and stomach tight from the intense high. 

“Give me your fucking orgasm, baby. Let me fucking hear it,” he spits out, sweat forming on his forehead. He’s since stripped his robe off entirely, laying on top of It while he masturbates to the sounds of his precious slut doing exactly what he wants her to do. What he needs her to do.

When you’re finished, you slide the toy lower so that it’s not directly on your sensitive bud. The fluttering tip starts making soft splashing noises at your arousal, indicating just how fucking wet you are. You place the phone right on your abdomen, hoping he can hear the lewd squelches from your pussy. For the first time since you began, you’re able to formulate a proper sentence, body relaxed into the mattress. “Can you hear it, baby? Can you hear how wet I am for you?”

He definitely can. “Ah, fuck,” he swears, fisting his shaft faster. His hand is not enough; it never is. But he lets his imagination do the rest for him. He knows how fucking juicy his pretty wife’s pussy is. Your perfect, luscious pussy lips puffy from overstimulation, covered in sticky sweet cum. He’d do anything for a taste of it right now, to run his tongue along your glistening folds, gather your slick and swallow it to quench his thirst. Dip his finger inside that gushy entrance only to stick it into his mouth, slurping every last drop. He admires the mental image before flicking his wrist with fervor, pumping his cock until he shoots his load onto his stomach. 

The two of you stay quiet for a moment, the static noise and muted buzzing from the phone settling in the silence. Nanami looks down, inspecting the wreckage splattered across his abs, leaking down his side and onto the robe beneath. He runs his fingers through his hair, forehead tacky with perspiration, exhaling with a satisfied smile before calling out, “Honey? Are you still there?”

It's only now that he remembers that the low hum is from the vibrator, still buzzing against your supple skin. Reserved moans growing louder as you circle the toy back to your needy clit, ready for another round. 

Nanami smirks to himself, holding the phone closer to his ear, rock hard again. It’s going to be a long, fulfilling night. 

#kento nanami #nanami kento #nanami kento smut #nanami smut #nanami fanfic #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #Kento Nanami smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk nanami

[zoromuse]

want you (need you) pt. 2 | headcannons

taking an aphrodisiac with them and seeing who gives in first.

characters. Portgas D. Ace, Trafalgar Law, Shanks, Nico Robin

general cw. aphrodisiacs (obv)

a/n. based on this and this ask. also tagging @h3rfave bc she seemed to want robin a lot for these headcanons. thank you for all the support on the first part, hope yall like this one just as much <3

part one

PORTGAS D. ACE

cw. slight manhandling, squirting

I think he’d be the one to suggest it, he’s really open to trying anything in bed.

He immediately regrets it, the feeling is so strong, he’s never wanted you as much as he wants you now, but he’s trying to hide it. 

He’ll put his hat over his lap, trying to hide the boner he got just from seeing you on the other side of the room, just as horny as he is, yet you look more composed about it. 

He’ll walk over and throw you on his shoulder as he takes you to bed, and he doesn’t need to say anything to know you won’t be leaving his arms any time soon. 

“Take your fucking hand off, I wanna hear you” he says, referring to the hand over your mouth that muffled all of your moans. You couldn’t, not with all the embarrassing sounds you were making, so you shake your head “no” with teary eyes, hoping he’ll take a pity on you.

He doesn’t.

He’s quick to wrap his hand around your wrist and pull it back, making you gasp at the sheer force of his grip, or maybe it was because of the strength of his thrusts, you don’t know anymore.

Everything is so messy, your sweaty bodies are pressed against each other, your pebbled nipples graze against his chest, bringing all the more stimulation to your body. Maybe it was the aphrodisiac, but you’re so sensitive to every single one of his touches, it’s almost humiliating. You’re so close, and he can tell with the way you’re becoming more vocal, your moans just a few octaves short from being downright pornographic.

“Ace, Ace-!” you say, throwing your head back, feeling your orgasm take over your body, shaking and trembling under his unrelenting grip. “‘m gonna… mmm fuck, Ace!”

“That’s it, cum f’me” he pulls out and swipes his fingers across your clit while your juices squirt out against your will, too fucked out to even notice the mess you were making of his sheets.

TRAFALGAR LAW

cw. lowkey mean dom law, lots of dirty talk, mirror sex, full nelson, mentions of dumbification

You’d have to provoke him in order to get him to agree.

“What, you’re afraid you can’t handle it?” 

He tries to keep his usual facade, even though the sweat on his forehead gives it away.

You’d have to be the first to give in, he’s too prideful to ask for it. 

He’s definitely going to tease you all night about it too. 

“Look at that” he says, pointing to the large mirror in front of you, and you’re embarrassed at what your reflection shows. You have a mess of tears and drool running down your cheeks, and what’s more, he’s holding your legs with his arms hooked around the back of your head, putting your cunt on full display for the mirror.

“And I’m the one who can’t handle it? Look how much you’re creaming around me” he says, fucking into you at an agonizingly fast pace. He’s so fast, so deep, it’s too much. He was right, you were the one who couldn’t handle it.

You’re leaking like a faucet down there, your slick covering his cock and leaving the prettiest ring of white around the base of his cock.

“Oh… you got tighter when I said that, you like creaming around my cock, huh? You’re such a messy little bitch”. He’s right, you’re being so messy, crying his name out in hopes he’ll take it easier on you, but he’s not stopping any time soon. “Are you gonna cum again? That’s right, make a mess for me. I’m not done though, I’ll make sure to fuck you until you go dumb, see if you can handle that, pretty”.

SHANKS

cw. manhandling if you squint, a little bit of dirty talk

I think he’s willing to take it, but he definitely won’t be giving in first. 

He’s gone for long periods of time sometimes, so he’s familiar with this feeling. 

And as much as he loves you and wants nothing more than to bend you over and fuck you until you’re babbling nonsense, he also really wants the satisfaction of winning, so you’re definitely going to have to give in first.

“Aw, giving up so soon, that’s a shame”

His big hands hold you in place when he enters you, pushing past the ring of tightness to be wrapped in your walls. 

“So good for me, taking it all like a good girl” he whispers, his chest is pressed to your back and his breath shuddered against your skin, making you arch into his touch. 

“You’re so wet, were you thinking about me?” he asks. Of course you were, who else could you be thinking about but the man who knows exactly how to touch you to make you melt in his hands? “Did you need me to take care of you, huh?”

“Yes, need you so bad, S-Shanks… want more, please!” you say, and as soon as you do, his hand is pushed against the back of your head, pushing you into the pillow that muffles all of your moans as he fucks you harder. 

“You want more? This pretty pussy’s already sucking me in, and you want more?” he says, laughing at your mindless request, but if that’s what you wanted, he’d be sure to provide for you. 

NICO ROBIN

cw. oral (f!receiving), fingering, scissoring, desperate robin

Probably the most hesitant out of everyone, but still willing to try it if you’re up for it.

The only way you would be able to tell is if you payed close attention to her, the way sweat was gathering at her temple, and her legs were crossed tightly, too tightly.

I think you’d both give in at the same time, mostly you.

“I just wanna kiss you, nothing more”, and then you were doing more.

“Robin! hm…” you bite your lip, her tongue tracing experienced circles on your clit, while she used her fingers to prod at the spot that drove you crazy. 

Too soon, she stopped touching you, her slick covered finger slipping out of you, leaving you with a disappointing emptiness. 

You all but pout at this, until she’s putting one of your legs over her shoulders and guiding her pussy on top of yours, her arousal mixing with your own as she’s now pressed against you.

“Need m-more,” she says, breathless, almost as if trying to explain herself. You don’t need an explanation, you quite enjoy seeing your usually composed girlfriend this desperate. 

You’re reveling in the sight of her sweaty body on top of yours when she takes you by surprise and starts grinding against you. She’s different, she’s usually so calm and collected, even when it comes to sex, she likes to be gentle with you, and take her time to enjoy every moment she has. This time though, she’s messily humping you, sloppily rubbing her clit against yours in an attempt to chase the high she needs. 

You wish she would show this side of her more often, because you love the look of pure bliss she has on her face when she’s cumming, half lidded eyes that are practically begging for more, and mouth agape from calling out your name in the middle of her euphoric high, all the while still grinding into you. 

©️ quanxxiluv 2023 | all content belongs to quanxxiluv, do not modify or repost

#one piece #one piece smut #one piece x reader #one piece x reader smut #ace #portgas d. ace #ace x reader #ace x reader smut #ace smut #law #trafalgar law #law x reader smut #law x reader #shanks #shanks x reader #shanks x reader smut #robin #nico robin #nico robin smut #nico robin x reader #nico robin x reader smut

[jeanboyjean]

you're the worst - ft jean kirstein. mdni!!

summary: you and jean are rivaling lawyers on the partner track and it’s your firm’s xmas party. what better way to prove you’re better than him than to fuck him?

content: (nsfw) f! reader, rivals to lovers, coworkers, fucking at your work christmas function … in a storage closet!! f! oral receiving. p in v. unprotected sex oops. big dick jean, light choking

a/n: inspired by (actual irl) boyfriend's beef with his coworker. she recently got a promotion over him and he wont shut up about it so i was like wait … i gotta write this down this is a great idea HOLD AWN. their xmas function is next week and theres always drama!! enemies to lovers is THE TROPE for meee so i may expand on this later on and make a long fic but for now this is it. ty to @gallliard + @cowgirlikets for beta reading bc im goofy!! tag: @poopwons

2.7k words

String lights twinkle from the ceiling as people mill around you. Music is thumping from the large speakers near the DJ stand as you make your way to the bar to get another drink. Your law firm’s annual christmas party is in full swing right now and it's around halfway through the night - about the point where everyone’s finished their dinners and washing them down with drinks. The cocktail tables you had initially stood around at the start of the night, schmoozing with partners, have been cleared to form a crowded dance floor. You carefully thread your way between your coworkers while they let their hair down after yet another busy year.

When you finally reach the bar, you flag down the bartender and order another drink. In the holiday spirit, the firm had requested custom themed drinks and he sets down a very festive vodka cranberry in front of you. You're taking a sip, turning away to lean your back against the counter when a figure next to you catches your eye.

You sigh. It’s your coworker, Jean Kirstein - a.k.a the bane of your existence.

The two of you had joined the firm at the same time as new grads and had moved up the ranks together. Now, he’s your biggest competition, the one thing standing in the way of you becoming junior partner. He’s good, you’ll give him that. You both are. The two of you are the firms biggest rising stars, pulling clients and racking up billables like it’s nothing.

Unfortunately, he’s also a bit of a dick. At first, you couldn’t tell if his cocky persona had been an act, but after working alongside him these years, you’ve just come to accept that he is naturally a loud, smug asshole. The breaking point had been when you had stayed up late one night in your third year, working on a proposal, only for Jean to rock in the next day with his own that overwrote everything you had done. You’ve never really forgiven him for stealing your thunder and have used every opportunity you can to shine over him. Since then, he’s been nothing more than your rival and enemy. This was even more so lately, what with the announcement coming up next week to reveal who would be getting a promotion.

Jean turns his head to follow the bartender and meets your eyes. You quickly turn away and sip your drink.

“Hey,” you hear him say. He’s moved across to stand next to you, leaning his side on the counter.

Inwardly, you tense a little, always on guard when he interacts with you. “Hi Kirstein,” you say stiffly. “What’s up?”

“Just thinking how good it’s going to feel when they call out my name for junior partner,” he grins smugly.

You roll your eyes at him. “Yeah, in your dreams.”

“Not my dreams if it’s a fact,” he sings and you bristle at his words. There’s no way he could know this for a fact. Everything’s been kept under wraps and you know you have just as much of a chance as him. You both went well over budget and the partners love you equally. It’s anyone’s game at this point.

He laughs. “I’m just kidding. I’m 99% sure it’s gonna be me but who knows what could happen. You might still have a shot.”

“Fuck off, Kirstein,” you snap at him, getting ready to leave.

“I’m kidding! I’m kidding!” He waves his hands. “It could be either of us. Or maybe even Reiner might pull an undercover steal and take it from us.”

You can’t help but laugh at his words. Reiner’s good but he’s far from partner material so you know Jean's taking the piss.

Jean straightens up, demeanour becoming a little more serious. “You know … I think it might actually be you this time.”

Your eyebrows raise. “Are you playing mind games with me, Kirstein?”

“Nah. I think you deserve it, that's all. You worked really hard on that last merger with the Reeves company and it paid off. All the partners are raving about it.”

His voice is sincere for once and your mouth hangs open in shock. You can’t remember the last time you had a conversation with Jean that wasn’t the two of you throwing jabs back and forth. It’s no secret to anyone that you can’t stand the other’s guts.

It's strange. For some reason, he's smiling at you and that fact that you don't feel the need to snap back at him makes you want to smack him.

The lighting at the bar brightens up his sandy brown hair like a halo around his face and his eyes glow as they stare intently at you. Fuck you Jean Kirstein and your perfect hair and your perfect face.

“You look nice today,” he admits, gaze travelling down to give you a once over. The surprises won’t stop coming.

“Yeah, you clean up well too I guess.” It's not a lie - he's definitely attractive. The problem with Jean though is he knows it. You have to be careful with what you say so as to not feed his already bloated ego.

He smirks, obviously pleased by your admission. He hums, eyes wandering around at your surrounding before landing back on you. There’s a split second where you swear they flicker down to your lips briefly. “You wanna go dance?”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “You want to dance ... with me,” you say flatly, eyebrows furrowing.

“Yeah, why not?” He gestures to his body. “You know you want to.”

You roll your eyes. “Fine, Kirstein. I’ll indulge you this one time since you so clearly want to.”

Whirling around, you down your drink then stalk away to the dance floor. You hear him snicker behind you as he follows. Once you find a free spot, you turn to face him, suddenly a little unsure. He’s got a devilish grin on his face as he steps in closer to you. His hands come to rest on your waist and your body lights up at his touch. Hesitantly, your arms come up to wrap around his neck as you let the music guide your body, alcohol pumping through your blood.

After a few minutes, his head dips down and you shiver when his nose grazes your neck. Lips at your ear, he murmurs, “I mean it by the way. You look really good.”

“Don’t tell me you have feelings for me now, Kirstein,” you say in response, trying your hardest to hide how his words rock you to your core. He doesn’t say anything and just laughs, shoulders shaking.

When you look up at him, his eyes are fixed on you, glowing molten lava. Your breath catches in your throat. It feels like the world disappears beneath your feet as you find yourself trapped in his gaze.

Wanting to break free of the moment, you spin around. His hands are still on your waist so you find yourself pressed with your back against his chest. His grip tightens, hips still rocking to the music. You let yourself be moved along too, trying your best to calm your racing heart.

The song is slow and bass heavy, soulful vocals crooning - a little sensual for a conservative law firm like this. When the last few notes trail off, his head drops again to your shoulder and you can feel more than hear him groan.

“Shit,” you hear him mutter. He goes to move away from you but it’s too late. There's an unmistakable hardness pressing firm against your ass. You still and slowly turn to face him.

He has the decency to look embarrassed now, sheepish expression on his face as he puts his hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry, I just got carried away. Please … pretend nothing happened.”

You stare at him, blood thumping in your veins. Despite everything, heat pools in your stomach while a wetness builds between your legs. You shake your head and grab your hand. “Let’s go.”

“What-”

You drag him through the crowd, turning into the corridor towards the bathrooms. With a tug, you pull him into a storage closet and shut the door behind you. He looks at you in a mix of confusion and curiosity. “What are we doing in here?”

You roll your eyes and step in towards him. “Do you want to do this or not?”

His eyes widen and they flicker from yours to your mouth and his breath catches in his throat when your tongue slides out to lick your lips.

Without a word he closes the distance between the two of you. His hands come to grip your jaw as he presses his mouth hard against yours. You share a messy kiss, your hands tangling in his hair, his sliding down your body.

He places wet kisses down your neck as one hand cups a breast, the other groping at your ass. You moan, head falling back as he sucks into your sensitive skin and pinches a nipple through your dress.

“I want to take this off,” he almost pleads, tugging at the fabric. “Can I take it off?”

You nod, letting him unzip and feeling it fall to the floor. His eyes roam your body. “Fuck. You’re so hot,” he groans.

He walks you back until your back hits the closed door behind you. Kisses trail down your body as he falls to his knees and hooks a leg up over his shoulder. He licks a wet stripe up your inner thigh, pulling your underwear to the side to reveal your glistening folds. Wasting no time, he dives forward to lick at your wet slit.

“You taste so good,” he moans into your skin. You’re breathless above him, eyes screwing shut with pleasure as he works his magic.

He takes your sensitive clit into his mouth, swirling around with his tongue and sucking. A finger dips into your folds and you clench tight at the intrusion. He curls it inside you, searching for the sensitive bundle of nerves and it’s obvious when he finds it because you jerk above him, moaning in delight. You feel his lips lift in a smirk and he’s relentless now. Another finger joins and he’s pumping, massaging your slick walls, still sucking at your clit. Your toes curl, heat building in your core.

“Come on, pretty girl. I want to feel you cum on my face,” he moans into your soaking cunt. At his words, it only takes a little more before you feel yourself let go and your orgasm takes over. Waves of pleasure rip through you as you pulse and squeeze around him. Your knees buckle and he catches you with one hand, pinning your hip against the surface behind you.

He grins as he removes his fingers, sucking them clean before wiping his face with the back of his hand. He stands, pulling your face into a messy open mouthed kiss. It feels nasty, the way you're panting into his mouth as you taste yourself on his tongue.

You reach down to palm at his crotch, feeling his hard cock straining against his pants. Eagerly, you pull them down and release him, feeling him hot and heavy in your hand. With all of his arrogance, you had been sure he was overcompensating for a lack of something downstairs but now you're sorely (or maybe thankfully) mistaken. He's easily the biggest you've ever had.

“Shit, I don’t have a condom,” he says.

“Oh,” you say in response, but all you can think is, damn he's big. You shake your head. “I’m clean and on the pill so I’m fine if you are.”

Jean grins. “Sounds good to me.”

He kisses you again before spinning you around to face the door. Your hands fall in front to catch you and he presses into your back. His cock is hard against your ass and he takes a moment to grind against you slowly. He guides it with his hand to slide a few times over your slit, gathering the wetness. You hold in a whine, already a little overstimulated when he finally lines himself up and pushes in slowly. There's a little resistance but you relish in the feeling of stretching around him.

“So tight,” he moans into your hair, cock throbbing inside you.

Jean moves slowly to begin with, letting you adjust to his size but it’s not long before his pace picks up and he’s fucking you in earnest. His hips thrust against your ass, cock sliding in and out, reaching areas you didn’t think were possible. You moan as you rock back into him, desperately meeting his movements.

Your head falls back onto his shoulder and your eyes screw shut as you feel him driving in relentlessly, letting your body go limp in pleasure. One of his hands grips the door next to yours, while the other reaches up to wrap around your throat to hold you up against him. He’s only resting his hand there really, but it makes you clench around him even tighter.

At the sensation, he hisses, hips stuttering. “Oh, you like that?” His hips snap in hard. “I knew you would, you dirty girl.”

His fingers tighten around your neck, lightly cutting off your air supply. It’s enough to make your head spin, stars forming in your vision. He pants into your hair, softly muttering curses as he pounds in quicker. You’re at his mercy now, moaning freely, as your orgasm builds again.

Legs shaking in the effort to hold yourself up, you lose yourself in the moment. Electricity streaks through your body, lighting up all of your nerves. The lack of air is making your limbs tingle, heightening your senses. The hand he’s using to steady himself falls down to your hip, sliding down to your pussy. You jerk when his fingers find your clit, the pleasure almost too much to bear. With a few quick circles at your sensitive nub, you're crying out as you cum around his cock. Your walls clench tight, uncontrollably and your hands claw at the door.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he moans, hips stuttering, all finesse out the window. “You’re squeezing me so tight. I’m gonna fucking come.”

He fucks into you without abandon, using both hands to grip your hips tight enough to leave bruises. He pounds into you relentlessly, the slick sound of your skin meeting each other filling the air, before burying into you all the way as he cums. His hips falter and slow as he reaches his high, spilling deep inside you. His forehead drops onto your shoulder, as he tries to catch his breath and carefully, he pulls out, his cum leaking out of your cunt down your thigh.

You fall forward, catching yourself with your forearms against the door. You turn around to face him. His hair has fallen out of its careful styling, a few stray strands sticking on his damp forehead. He grins at you, blinking slowly, lids heavy with contentment. You’re a little surprised when he dips down to capture your mouth in another kiss. His lips are more gentle now, movements softer as his hands lightly hold your jaw. When he pulls away, you’re breathless and frazzled, completely taken aback by the entire sequence of events.

“You good?” he asks you, eyes twinkling with mirth.

You nod in response, racking your brain to think of something to say but coming up empty.

“That was so hot,” he says in your silence. “I knew all that tension between us would lead to something great.” He smirks. “Didn’t think it would be so easy to get you like putty in my hands.”

You straighten at his words, batting his hands from your warm cheeks. “Fuck off, Kirstein. It was just unexpected. You’ll see. Next time you’re the one that’s gonna be putty.”

His chest heaves with laughter as he bends down to pick up your dress and hand it to you. “Next time, huh? Good to know.”

“You're the worst,” You groan, making a face at him as you step into your dress and slide the straps back up over your shoulders. You turn around, holding your hair up with your hands to let him zip it back up.

A shiver runs down your spine when his fingers graze your bare skin. He presses a light kiss against the side of your exposed neck. “Let’s get back out there then,” he murmurs into your skin.

You pretend your legs don’t buckle a little at the feeling of his touch and shake yourself off, smoothing down your dress. You can still feel the ghost of him inside you and his sticky cum dripping down your inner thighs.

Next time, Jean Kirstein. You’ll see.

#attack on titan #jean x reader #jean kirstein #jean kirschtien #jean kirschstein #aot x reader #✎ . chloe wrote smth

[kairiscorner]

OMG IF YOU WANT PLS DO WRITE THE FIC ABOUT MIGUEL SEEING OUR THIRST TRAPS 😭 salamat talagaaaa wala na kasi akong maisip maliban kay miguel

HELLOOOOO, OFC I WILL ANON, I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS HEHE this is another excuse to make more text fics bc it's starting to feel fun for me LMAO <333

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

is it not for me? – miguel o'hara x reader (reacting to your thirst traps)

a/n: kind of suggestive shit underneath the cut, sorry if you don't like it, you have every right to scroll away ^^

after getting used to the controls and operations on social media and understanding the basic goal, or lack, of it–miguel had begun scrolling through his feed like you and lyla directed him to do. he scrolled and scrolled through the endless photos, videos, and posts sent his way by the very strange algorithm of the app. he still hadn't found the right thing for him on social media and he honestly wouldn't be here if you and lyla didn't force him to try it out so much, but when he least expected it... he happened upon your account.

he saw a photo of your back, it was you taking a selfie in the mirror with hardly anything covering your back. your behind was in full view but covered up, the lighting was dim, save for the flash of your phone's camera. the caption read: "for m, hoping you'll enjoy this three-course meal 🍓"

...that did something to miguel. it set some sort of feeling off of him, something that urged him to not just click like, but to comment right then and there: "who the shock is 'm'?" but if only he knew how to comment; all he knows how to do is click like and scroll.

he clicked the like button, unsure of how to feel about that very... eye-catching photo of yours. he tried shaking the feeling off, but he just couldn't; he couldn't stop thinking about it. he scrolled back up to see who else liked your photo, it took him a few tries to figure out how to do that. he also saw a few of the preview comments, complimenting your looks and tagging their friends who had 'm' in their names–joking that the photo was for them.

it pissed miguel off that these people could think your photos were for them, when you promised him you were all his. it damaged his ego slightly, but he figured these people were just douches, simple as that.

...but he needed to be doubly sure, so he click on your profile and looked through the posts you made. you really did love showing off your behind, it seemed like you were incredibly proud of it; miguel's totally in love with your ass, don't get him wrong, bur to know other people could see it and get to revisit the sight of your ass? oh, that made him feel a bit of a stinging pain in his chest.

he hated that feeling, where he felt like you were sharing intimate bits of yourself when you kept reminding and telling him you're all his. that, and as he scrolled through your comments, he saw a lot of people who not only loved your photos and sent you many compliments, but many who told you to get off the platform–many also catcalled you in the comments, too, much to his disgust.

"can't even keep this shit in real life, what losers." he muttered under his breath as he felt his anger rise as he kept scrolling through your comment section. he had gone through almost all of your posts, memorizing all the details of your posts and how you looked in them, feeling his face and chest flare up in a fit of heat as he looked through them all one by one. he sighed as he noticed you were a little too bold in these photos, in his opinion. he didn't want you to jeopardize yourself, seeing as how there were a lot of creeps on your account, he wanted to bring it to you attention.

hence, he messaged you all about his concerns.

"for... her mother?" miguel repeated to himself as he reread your message to him. he sighed, not believing your excuse one bit, believing you directed it to someone with an 'm' in their name, like him, but he decided to play along for now to get you to fess up eventually. that, and he doesn't think you'd wish your mom would have a lovely three-course meal with your ass picture, but he did see that you took pictures of food afterwards, so... it was plausible. but you were not off the hook yet.

he sighed as you laughed at his attempt at guessing who that post was for, who 'm' was. he felt a little embarrassed, a little ashamed he thought it was him, but then he thought of who would be closest to you, had 'm' in their name, and would enjoy the three-course meal that was... you already know what. he sighed as he typed and retyped his message after deleting the previous one, trying to get himself together after outing himself as being a little expectant that those thirst traps were for him.

he finally messaged you, trying to sound stern over text, but he was completely ignored by you when you sent him a selfie of your bottom half, with little letters on your bottom that read: "good????? bad????? should i get em....."

fuck, you baited him again.

he felt his cheeks grow hot and his breath hitch in his throat as he stared at your photo for a second, hoping you wouldn't post this, that this could remain as just a little thing between you two. but then again, he couldn't control you, so he'd just try to respond back–seeming unfazed. hopefully.

he was so easy to please sometimes.

moral of the story?

miguel loves your ass and wants to beat up the creeps in your comments section, while making it known to both you and the world that your ass is all for him–nobody else.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @fiannee @fictarian @yuridopted0 @arachnoia @meeom @ophanimgold @melovetitties @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok @popeheywardssecretgf

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fluff #spiderman 2099 #atsv #atsv miguel #atsv imagines #atsv fluff #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv x y/n #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse fluff

[blainesebastian]

drunk dial

words: 2,709 ship: austin butler x reader summary: (anon request) drunk! austin and sober! girlfriend having to pick him up and maybe some of his cast mates or something bc they’re at a bar? and austin just loving on her and doting on her  notes: masterlist on my sidebar! could be a part of ‘mutually assured satisfaction’ universe if you squint  warnings: NSFW :)  tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell, @gigisworldsstuff, @stylesmendeshearted

Something that you learn early on in your relationship with Austin is that he likes to have a good time and knows exactly how to do it. Celebrity status gives way to excess and parties are easily thrown, almost constantly, with no deeper reason other than to just enjoy it. Austin himself is just full of life, he’s one of those people that’s infectious to be around, a contagious smile, a bright laugh, eyes as clear and blue as the ocean when you look into them. He makes you feel like you could utterly be the center of any universe when he speaks to you, drawing you in and asking you questions and always making you feel welcome, no matter who you are.

It's no wonder that he’s constantly invited to things, that people want him to attend—and then you mix a few drinks in there? A perfect storm.

You enjoy that version of your boyfriend, secretly one of your favorites even though you’d never tell him.

When he’s drunk he’s incredibly rose-colored, as if he’s got those type of glasses on his eyes when he interacts with people. He draws them close into conversation, he becomes a bit more touchy, and when you’re with him his hands are constantly on your body—looking for any excuse to pull you close and into a kiss. His body warm, the way a twinge of sweat mixes with his skin and cologne, how easily those same hands sometimes wander between your legs, God; makes your toes curl just thinking about it.

Unfortunately tonight you’re missing out on that, needing some time on your own this weekend to decompress from a busy week on set. You’re always grateful for the opportunities, don’t get it wrong, but sometimes you definitely need the space to breathe and reset. Austin invited you out tonight with some castmates of his own to a bar, a wrap party of sorts, and teasingly kissed you goodbye at the front door with a comment against your lips of all work and no play.

It's about eleven or so when you crawl into bed, dragging a book with you that you’ve stopped and started about a dozen times. Propping up the pillows, you lean back to read a few pages before sleeping. You’ll honestly feel accomplished if you manage to dedicate at least ten pages per night…doubtful, but here’s hoping.

Your phone begins to vibrate when you’re about two pages in and you sigh as you reach for it on the comforter because that’s typical. If it’s your agent you’ll call her back tomorrow, but Austin’s name flashes on the screen. A small smile tugs at the corners of your mouth before you swipe to answer.

“Long time no talk,” You tease, putting the phone on speaker. You set your book down over your legs, keeping your spot for the page you’re on.

You wait a few moments for Austin to respond, the sound of traffic and a chaotic background of bar music and chatter filter in every so often. You raise your eyebrows, about to speak again when you finally hear Austin make a noise, which distinctly sounds like a huff,

“I’ve been lookin’ for you.”

A soft laugh flutters out of your throat because for a moment you don’t think he’s serious but then you wait for the other shoe to drop and it never comes. Amusement wraps around your chest like a warm blanket, shaking your head as you lean up in bed a little to hover over your phone.

“I’m not there babe, remember? I didn’t come out with you tonight.”

There’s a small space of time in which you can definitely tell Austin is scrunching his nose, “Well that explains a lot then.”

You laugh again, can’t help it, running a hand over your face. Out of the things you expected to happen tonight, this wasn’t one of them—getting a drunk phone call from your boyfriend when it’s barely eleven o’clock. He must be having a good time so far.

You listen for a moment, wondering what’s going on. He sounds okay though? Definitely outside, so maybe he’s just getting some fresh air. You chew on your lower lip, playing with the fabric of the comforter between your fingers.

“What’d you do tonight?” Austin asks and while you’re pretty sure he won’t be able to keep track of your response, you appreciate he’s trying.

“Uhm,” You hum, “I made dinner, had a long bath—”

“Shame I missed that,” He interrupts, a slight drawl to his tone leftover from Elvis, something that nearly always creeps into his voice when he’s upset, tired or drunk.

“Can always raincheck for another time,” You smile, continuing, “Had a cup of tea and decided to try and read a bit. Didn’t get very far.” You tilt your head a little, pausing, “You havin’ fun?”

“Would be havin’ a better time with you,” He says almost instantly, like he was ready to throw that reply in regardless of the question. You smile a little, curling your hair around your ear.

“Well, I can’t disagree about that.”  

You feel the tiniest bit guilty that you didn’t allow Austin to tug you out of the apartment tonight, that you’re not out with him having a few beers and sitting too close, maybe even dancing to cheesy nineties music or playing a game of pool (and totally winning). But you also know that in order to be the very best girlfriend, or just your very best self in general, that you need to take the time to recharge your battery.

“When are you coming back home?” You ask, not intending on cutting his night short or anything but you admittedly want him in bed with you. He’s slightly needy like this and you’re not about to deny that you find that a bit attractive. PDA isn’t a foreign concept to him when he’s sober so you kinda enjoy the moments where he’s cranking that up to eleven, needing and wanting you so much closer.

You can definitely relate.

“When do you want me?”

Smiling a little, you shake your head at the opening—far too easy, “I always want you.” And it feels like such a line that he’s tossed in your direction once or twice.

Austin laughs, the sound warm and affectionate against your eardrum, “That’s cute—real smooth. You tryin’ to flirt with me?”

“Oh I’m definitely trying,” You nod, no use in denying that. “Is it working?”

“Maybe,” He then seems to remember the original question you posed, “M’comin’ home now.”

You tug back the covers after a moment, a few thoughts swirling around in your head, wondering if he’s done things like paid his bill or told his castmates he was leaving. You’re a bit selfish in this though because you don’t mention any of that, instead,

“Right now?”

“Mhm,” Austin confirms, “Gonna grab one of those uber things.”

You chuckle lightly, pulling yourself from bed to quickly put on a pair of joggers. You then grab the sherpa lined jean jacket that he often wears and drape it over your shoulders, the sleeves a bit too long for your arms but you kinda like that.

“Why don’t you let me come get you so you don’t have to worry about the ‘uber things’.”

Austin pauses, like he’s trying to get two thoughts to connect in his head before he says, “That would be amazin’. Girlfriend award.”

You grin, shaking your head as you grab your wallet and keys before slipping out of your apartment, “Just constantly winning those. I’ll be there soon, don’t wander.” Pulling the phone away from your ear, you check his location just in case and make your way to the door.

--

Surprisingly, there’s not a lot of traffic downtown, which makes parking easy near the bar Austin’s at. Letting out a soft sigh, you turn the engine off and crane your neck to look outside and around the place your boyfriend is supposed to be. You get out of the car, pulling your coat a little closer around yourself as you cross the street, smiling as you eventually notice him half a block further down, leaning against the brick wall of another establishment, smoking.

Despite being a bit drunk, he’s still holding up his own pretty well, a lazy smile on his lips as he notices you walking towards him.

“Hey you,” It’s kind of ridiculous to think about this small amount of power he has over you, just standing there, looking as handsome as he does. Slightly rugged in his dark jeans and stance along the building. He tosses the cigarette to the ground and stubs it out, blowing smoke away from you as he turns to give you a once over.

Cheeks definitely turn pink but luckily you can blame that on being a bit cold.

“Have you uh,” You trail off a moment, motioning to the bar behind you, “Have you seen my boyfriend? He’s about your height, slightly built, dirty blonde curls, little bit of a mess,” You grin, “Very happy to see me?”

“Oh you’re taken?” Austin asks, a soft chuckle vibrating in his throat as he wraps his arms around your shoulders. His body is warm and slightly heavy, his balance not as it should be. You’re stable though, he’s not stumbling over, “He’s got to be pretty lucky.”

You chuckle as he brings his hands over to cup your cheeks, running his thumb along the bone. “I’d like to think so.”

Standing here with him in so intoxicating, the fluttering sensation in your stomach as he touches you, the warmth of his skin and the presence of his body, slightly taller than you as his eyes look down and drink you in. As he pulls you as close as he can, mapping his body along yours, the street seems to fade from view. Humming, you wrap your arms loosely around his trim waist, one arm slipping underneath the fabric of his shirt. He squirms just slightly as the cool night air kisses the skin of his back.

“Home?” You ask, tilting your head up.

Austin leans down to brush his lips over yours, playfully nipping at your lower lip with his own. “Home.”

Smiling, you wrap an arm around his waist, turning to walk towards the car. You definitely notice him leaning into you a little more than usual, his arm resting on your shoulders for balance. You don’t mind though, easily handling his weight on the way to the car, despite that his walking is a bit wobbly.

Pausing to unlock the passenger door, you stick the keys into your pocket before a soft laugh leaves your lips, “Too tall for your own good.” You tease, making sure to rest your hand along the crown of his head so that he leans down enough to get into the passenger seat without hurting himself.

“Did I mention…” He trails off, watching you with lazy blue eyes. Austin chews on his lower lip, resting his head back against the headrest as you lean over him to put his seatbelt on, “That you’re definitely gettin’ the girlfriend award?”

Smiling, you shake your head, pausing to run your eyes along his form. “Think you mentioned somethin’ like that, yeah.” You push yourself inside briefly to peck his lips, “And I already know it’s well deserved.”

Austin chuckles, stealing one more kiss before you close the door and take him home.

--

You’ve been drunk plenty of times around Austin and he’s always known the best ways to take care of you and that’s kinda what you’re thinking about now. Getting him into bed, making sure he has comfortable clothes on and that he’s drinking enough water—aspirin and a greasy breakfast when he wakes up.

Except, your boyfriend has other plans that involve getting a shower and…you really don’t have the energy or stamina to tell him how beyond ridiculous it is that he does this now. It doesn’t help that he’s decently taller than you and undressing faster than you can put clothes on him. Though, seems like a weird thing to complain about.

“You comin’ in with me?” Austin asks as he turns the shower on, waiting for the water to warm up.

He’s kinda straddling the tub, leaning against the wall, completely naked and far too gorgeous looking for his own good. You let out a soft sigh, stepping a bit closer, moving to run a hand through the tuft of hair along his forehead. You semi count the freckles on his skin, leaning down to press a kiss against one on his shoulder.

“I already showered,” You tell him, “And I think you assume if I get in this shower with you that you’re gettin’ something out of it. Which you are sorely mistaken,” A soft laugh flutters in your chest when he pouts, “You can barely stand straight.”

“I know exactly what I’m doin’,” His hand falls to your waist, squeezing, “And I want you in this shower with me.”

Admittedly, the desire in his voice slips right between your legs, instant heat. As he smiles down at you and playfully nips your lower lip with his own, you realize how much of a losing battle this is. Before you can move, Austin playfully tugs you forward and you almost end up in the shower and under the stream of water with all your clothes on.

“Austin,” You snap but you’re laughing, pushing him away so that you can undress.

With a dramatic sigh, you get into the shower with him, pulling the glass door closed. His lips are on yours in an instant, drawing you close and under the stream of water. Things are a bit haphazard but this is not the first time you’ve done this in this setting and when your hand slips down to touch your boyfriend, he’s already hard.

A moan leaves your lips and empties into his mouth, heat curling up inside of you and making your legs shake. Quick and a little desperate, needy, you kinda like it when it’s like this sometimes. When you’re not taking it slow or feeling every single movement of the other’s bodies. This in comparison is grabby, passionate, like you can’t quite get enough of one another fast enough.

Austin hooks your leg up, presses you against the shower wall, hands exploring and fingers opening you up, open-mouthed kisses on your throat, your pulse point, your heart thrumming in your eardrums. He slides in quick but always allows you a few moments to adjust, your forehead dipping to his shoulder, a deep breath in before you roll your hips up and into him.

It’s not the easiest in the shower, this place is definitely overrated when it comes to seeing it in films. But luckily there’s no slipping this time and Austin has a firm grasp on you, each thrust of his hips somehow utterly perfect. It doesn’t take long for either of you to reach a climax and suddenly you’re panting, the entire room rose-colored in the wake of your orgasm.

Austin eventually slides free from you and you hate how empty that always feels, chewing on your lower lip as he tips your head back with both of his hands on the sides of your face. He gives you a lazy smile, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead, the bridge of your nose and the corner of your mouth—you can feel him mouthing the words I love you a few times.

A small smile stretches across your face and you close your eyes for a moment as he strokes your hair back, now wet underneath the stream of water. He reaches for a loofah, squeezing some shower gel onto it before beginning to drag it along your shoulders, arms, slow and lazy motions.

There’s a soft sound of amusement in your throat as you tip your head up and kiss him, drawing out these moments where you can get them. Ironically, despite not going out with him tonight, it still ended the same way.

And you’re definitely not going to complain about that.

--

Thank you so much for reading! Hope you enjoyed :)

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler imagine #austin butler drabble #austin butler fic #elvis 2022 #mccall writes things #mas

[celestialexxperience]

Mrs. Dunne (Billy dunne x reader.)

Requested by anon~

Warnings: profanities, cliches, kinda non Canon Billy, mentions of knifes and injuries.

A/N: I was gonna name this video games bc my last fic was a Billy dunne x reader fic and it was called dark paradise which is another lana song but I justed started writing and "Mrs. Dunne." Came out a lot. And would anybody wanna be added to tag list? Also request wlw fics bc there's only men in my inbox and it's pissing me off.

Only the sounds of Billy strumming his acoustic guitar and you frustratingly trying to rip open this very well taped cardboard box of which was labeled "Billy's clothes" which probably consisted of jean everything.

"Yo Dunne! Maybe for once in your life get off your ass, stop playing that guitar and fucking help me with this box that you finally probably tapped!" He eruptedly stop strumming his guitar as you started yelling profanities at him.

A loud "mother fucker" could be heard from your small apartment as you accidentally cut your hand with the knife you were using to try and open that stupid box with. 

"Hey, hey" Billy said, concerned as he made his way over to you. "Hey, lemme see that."

"I'm sorry." You said trying to wipe away your tears with your uncut hand.

"Sorry? Why are you sorry? You have nothing to be sorry about." Your boyfriend said with that beautiful Billy-like smile.

"I know, I know it's just I've been acting like a bitch towards unpacking and you and I've been way too fucking stressed with moving and packing and unpacking that I haven't gave anytime to us- oh and look now I fucking cut my hand!" You winced at the pain of you swinging your arm too hard. 

"Okay baby calm down, we don't want you any more hurt." Billy chuckled at your fanatics.

"Oh you think this is funny Billy?!" 

"Yeah I kinda do." Billy said, starting to laugh a little bit too hard. 

"Oh yeah? You think it's funny I got hurt working on this home while you sat on your ass with your fucking guitar! You said sarcastically, gesturing to Billy's guitar.

"Okay little lady sit down while I take care of these boxes." You hummed an okay as you went to go sit down on the only chair Billy thought of unpacking, shorty after that because you were so stressed and tired you ended up drifting off to sleep. 

As you slowly opened your as from the sounds of metal clanging together and the sound of you and Billy's "the doors" vinyl playing. 

"Oh good morning sleeping beauty." Billy said sarcastically because it was indeed 8 pm. "Feeling better?" 

"Yeah much." As you walked towards Billy you saw him pressed up against the stove.

"What are you making?" You said as you notice the freshly clean kitchen free of the boxes. 

"Pasta. And wine." Billy chuckled as he handed you a glass of the alcohol.

"Hmmm thank you." You said giving the man a kiss on the cheek. "I see you cleaned." You said gesturing to the clean floor.

"Yep, just for you baby." You hummed in agreement giving him another kiss this time on the lips.

"Hm taste this." Billy said putting the fork in front of your mouth so you could see If the pasta is ready to eat. 

"Hmm good." You hummed with a mouth full of pasta giving your boyfriend a thumbs up.

Billy dished up the pasta in 2 separate bowls, you grabbed one of the bowls and grabbed your glass of white wine that you sat down on the kitchen counter and made your way to your brand new living room to sit next to you and Billy's books and his guitar. 

You sat down on the floor and grabbed your wine and put the glass to your mouth to take a sip as you felt something cold in your lips. As you took the thing out of your mouth to see a small diamond ring make your mouth fall open.

"Dunne?" Billy hummed back at you still not taking his eyes off the pasta. "What is this?" You said holding the Diamond up in the air.

"Hm? Ohhhh. Come here you're so far away I don't think I can't see it very well." Your boyfriend said very flirty. 

You made your way towards him, as you step right in front of him he wrapped his arm around your waist and took the ring out of your hand and put it on your finger. 

"Oh yeah that I think it's for you."

"What?" You said stunned.

"Will you be my Mrs. Dunne?" He said softly.

"Omg." You said bringing your hands to his face. "You can't be serious."

"Oh I'm serious Mrs. Dunne?" He said as a question, seeing if you were going to say yes.

"OH MY GOD!" 

"IS THAT YES?" Billy said, yelling just as loud as you were. 

"of course it's a yes you stupid stupid man!" You said slapping his chest grabbing his face again giving him a very needed well passionate kiss. 

He pushed you on top of the counter still making out with you. 

You pulled away from the kiss to look at your beautiful ring. 

"Y/n Dunne that has a nice ring to it." You said looking your now husband directly in the eyes. 

#Billy dunne #Billy dunne x reader #Billy dunne x fem!reader #Daisy jones and the six #Djats #Djats x reader #Daisy jones and the six x reader #Billy dunne x y/n #Graham dunne #Warren rojas #Eddie roundtree #Karen sirko #Daisy jones #70s #Camila dunne

[tillthelandslide]

Insufferable Arsehole (When In Rome) Part 10 - Step Into Your Skin Instagram AU

A/n: hello everyone, I'm back with another insta au, I've changed the format up a little bit and added some colours, think it makes it easier to read but let me know what you think...

If you haven't read this series so far, here are the links, any support would be greatly appreciated, I truly do love you guys so much.

Taglist: @scooby-doodoo @thereisaplaceintheheart @theoriginalwhatsername (if you want to be added please just drop me a message 🫶🏼)

Series Masterlist

Previous part

thisislou:

thisislou well then... 😍

Liked by trumanblack, bedforddanes75, rass1975, 1975adam and 478,891 others

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trumanblack don't feel like tagging me love?

↳ thisislou dont want you getting any more attention, you're mine ❤️

↳ trumanblack that I am ❤️

bedforddanes75 I miss you both

↳ thisislou miss you more

rass1975 Rome looks good on him

↳ thisislou that it does 🫠

thisislou:

thisislou I'd stay with you here forever, you with those dark eyes and darker hair, the epitome of beauty, you put Adonis to shame, with the way you paint my brain, with everything that is you, you with those dark eyes and darker hair. The epitome of beauty.

Liked by trumanblack, bedforddanes75, charli_xcx and 662,819 others

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trumanblack I love this

trumanblack I love you

↳ thisislou I love you more Healy ❤️

bedforddanes75 that's pretty

↳ thisislou thank you bestie 🫶🏼

charli_xcx hot... Wish you'd write these things about me

↳thisislou are you flirting with me Charlotte?!

↳ charli_xcx I will if you keep using my full name

rass1975 this is cute

↳ thisislou we miss you 😔

thisislou:

thisislou breaking news ‼️ I'm never leaving Italy.... Let's just stay here forever @trumanblack

Liked by trumanblack, bedforddanes75, mynamesmia and 573,183 others

🔔trumanblack shared this post to his story

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trumanblack okay ❤️

bedforddanes75 umm no?

↳ thisislou you and @charli_xcx are here all the time anyway

↳ charli_xcx @thisislou still mad that you stole our wedding destination

↳ thisislou omg stop we didn't get married!

rass1975 na please don't, please come back, I happen to like you... And he's alright I guess

75fan love the way Mattys just straight up like sure

thisislou:

thisislou Rome on film @trumanblack

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🔔 trumanblack shared this post to his story

trumanblack happiest with you ❤️

↳ thisislou adore you ❤️

mynamesmia okay... Cute

charli_xcx you're glowing... So happy for you

carly.rh love this ❤️

mattyloustan why would I not be surprised if they just went to Rome to elope?

↳ the1975updates omg don't bc Matty got her initial tattooed on his ring finger and Charli keeps dropping hints

↳ mattyloustan HOW DID I NOT KNOW THIS?!

↳ the1975updates she posted a picture on her story of them and you could see it 🥹 I posted a screenshot of it on my page

the1975updates:

the1975updates THIS!!!

Liked by thisislou and 7,719 others

📍the1975updates Lou liked the post guys brb just crying 😭🫶🏼

↳ thisislou @the1975updates you're the sweetest... I can promise you all we didn't get married though

75fan omg I swear to God they could not get any cuter

loufanpage he's so whipped it's adorable

ilovemattyxlou I can't deal 😭

fan1 on his ringer finger too?! that man wants to make a wife out of her

fan3 "All of those dreams where you're my wife"

↳ the1975updates now that's just unfair

fan4 I swear they've gotten married... I just know it. And in Italy too? Fucking cute

↳ fan3 check Lou's comment bb

trumanblack:

trumanblack I love you with all my heart

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🔔 thisislou shared this post to her story

thisislou I love you so much

bedforddanes75 my best friends

rass1975 okay but... I just got a bit emotional looking at this.... I'm so fucking happy for you

1975adam so proud

charli_xcx can't deal 😭🫶🏼

thisislou:

thisislou see sometimes I look like the type of girl you'd take home to your mum... 📸 @trumanblack

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🔔trumanblack shared this post to his story with the caption "my girl"

trumanblack my pretty girl

↳ thisislou yours ❤️

charli_xcx an absolute angel

bedforddanes75 pretty best friend

rosetintedglasses and other times you look like an absolute fucking rockstar who writes songs about fucking your boyfriend

↳ thisislou damn fucking straight

↳ loufanpage I fucking love this 🤣

the1975updates Matty is so whipped... Sharing this to his story... "My girl" I'm not crying you are!

Liked by trumanblack

#the 1975 #matty healy #the 1975 fanfic #matty healy x reader #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fic #matty the 1975 #matty #matty healy imagine #matty Healy instagram au #insufferable Arsehole matty healy series #ross macdonald #george daniel #adam hann

[laawlesss]

;; Midnight Escapades .. 

— ;; minific monday ! a oneshot (almost) every monday, usually under 5k words.. (.. usually ..)

>> in which sanji cheers you up.

; words ? ; 4.8k.

; warnings ? ; none.

; genre ? ; fluff/comfort.

; request ? ; no.

; pairing ? ; vinsmoke sanji x reader.

; notes ; first sanji fic !!! this was chosen by the lovely folks in my discord server <3 fem terms used for reader, also sanji is toned down from straight up simp to just a hopeless romantic. fast burn ! bc i was in the mood to write romance. hope u like !!! crossposted on ao3.

    You could feel tears pooling at the edges of your eyes, a stray drop rolling down your cheek. You were so embarrassed. Your first date in ages and you’d been stood up. Sitting all alone, three drinks deep, you probably looked pathetic. Running your hands over your face, you let out a sigh, before pulling out your phone. Your last message of, ‘Hey! I’m here!’ had been read by your date, who’d apparently decided you weren’t worth their time. Dropping your phone down on the table, you picked up your wine glass, trying to decide what to do.

 

    While you were busy staring into the swirling depths of your wine, your waiter had stepped up to your table again. In his hand was a new bottle and a notepad, his posture relaxed as smoke from his cigarette drifted toward the ceiling. You weren’t sure if it was code, but it gave him an odd, charming air that you were drawn to. His striking blonde hair covered one eye, and he had a soft smirk on his face. The small name tag on his apron read “Sanji”.

    “Ready to order now, darling?” The way he spoke was smooth and full of charisma. “Or would you prefer another refill?” He set the bottle down on the table, prepping his notepad as he readied his pen. Seeing your face drop slightly, his demeanor shifted, and his brow furrowed. 

    “Ah, no, no thank you.” You hastily wiped your tears. You didn’t need anyone seeing you cry. “Sorry, I‘ll just uhm, get the check.” You trailed off, clutching the fancy napkin in your lap. You had been so excited, dressed up a little nicer than you usually did, and had saved up your paychecks to go to a fancier restaurant, the one you were currently sat in, the Baratie. You had felt so pretty, so happy, now you felt ridiculous. Your dress seemed foolish and tacky, and you definitely looked a scene sitting alone for going on almost two hours, only asking for a refill as you hoped your date would show. 

    They didn’t. 

    The waiter, Sanji, looked confused, before he slid his notepad back into his pocket and set an elegant hand on the table. “Was something not to your liking?” He pulled his cigarette from his lips and put it out, blowing the smoke away from you. The man didn’t seem like your usual waiter, more intent and focused on you. 

    “Oh! Um, no, the wine was lovely.” Your gaze fell back to your hands folded in your lap, and you bit your lip to hide your emotions that threatened to breach the surface. “I didn’t mean to hog a table, I’m sure another group of customers could have used the seats.” You sighed, reaching for your bag and wallet. “I guess it’s what I get, huh? Choosing a fancy restaurant on a first date and they don’t even show.” 

    Sanji was taken aback for a moment, before a sudden anger and frustration filled his eyes, though it wasn’t directed at you. The way you sent him a wide, half-broken fake smile while you ignored the sparkles of tears that bordered your lashes sent a pang of fury through him. Who would dare to crush your hopes like this? His hand on the table curled into a fist. 

    “So you were stood up?” It was an unnecessary comment, but he was vocalizing his anger. “What kind of bastard does that to such a sweet lady.” His brows were furrowed as his voice took on a furious tone, a slight growl leaving his throat. You weren’t sure why he was so upset, you were sure that he had to deal with similar situations as a waiter for such a nice restaurant. He had been nothing but charming to you as you were waiting for your date, and now that he was showing such emotion on your behalf somewhat drew you to him. 

    You nodded slowly, fiddling with your fingers. “…It’s alright! Maybe something came up.” You fed yourself the line in the attempt to make yourself feel better. The waiter seemed to have fire burning in his eyes. “I’ll, um, get out of your way, I'll just pay for the wine.” Lowering your voice, you pulled your card out of your wallet and held it out to the waiter. With a lightly calloused hand, he gently pushed your card away. 

    “Nah, I’m not going to make you pay for this.” Sanji cracked his knuckles then began to undo his apron, untying the knot from behind his back. You looked at him in confusion. He… wasn’t going to make you pay? What kind of waiter was he? 

    “What? Why?” You stared up at him as he lay his apron on the table, holding his hand out to you. He sent you a wide smile, his eyes sparkling with pure innocence and excitement. 

    “I don’t make a habit of disappointing ladies like yourself. I think that bastard has made you suffer enough on your own tonight, what kind of man would I be if I burdened your wallet as well?” His voice was airy and light, and he seemed to have good intentions. You stayed seated, more confused than anything. “C’mon.” 

    Sticking your wallet back into your bag, you slung it over your shoulder. “Are you.. quitting? What’s going on?” You asked, still unable to really get a read on the situation. He’d taken off his apron, did he decide to quit because you got stood up? It made no sense. 

    “Oh no, not at all. I just figured I’d offer a lady such as yourself a better evening than having to dwell on being stood up.” You took his hand, standing and gently dusting off your dress. “I’m technically the sous chef here, but I was standing in as a waiter due to lack of staff.” He shrugged, steadying you as you gathered yourself. With a soft smile you went along with it, welcoming a distraction. You knew to be wary of strangers, but the man in front of you seemed genuine and harmless. 

    Making sure you had all of your things, you let him lead you away from the table. “Oh. That makes sense, I suppose.” You decided not to think too hard on it. The waiter was attractive and warm with his actions, and you’d found yourself drawn to him from the moment you had sat down. 

    He flashed you a dazzling smile, before stopping by the kitchen. Pausing, he raised his voice enough for the chefs in the kitchen to hear him over the ruckus of their cooking. “HEY OLD MAN! I’M LEAVING EARLY!” Sanji shouted, making sure you were out of the way so he wouldn’t be yelling at you. 

    “NO THE HELL YOU AREN’T, YOU BRAT!” A loud, brash voice answered, and Sanji just sent a middle finger towards the kitchen, not bothering to respond. You didn’t know how to react, before you held a hand over your mouth to suppress a light giggle. You never expected the gentlemanly chef to have such a harsh side to him. 

    “You won’t get fired if you shout like that?” You questioned, amused. In an instant he turned back to you, lightly gripping your hand and leading you to the front of the restaurant. 

    “Probably not.” He shrugged, taking your hand and giving you a light-hearted twirl before moving to hold the front door open for you. “The chef’s like my old man, he’s too soft-hearted to kick me out.” You hadn’t noticed before, but Sanji wore a black double-breasted suit with the sleeves rolled up, something that made him seem endlessly elegant. His gaze was fixed back towards the restaurant as you stepped out, and you took the chance to really look at him. 

    His jaw was sharp and angled, and his dark goatee seemed to fit him perfectly. The eye that wasn’t covered by his fluffy blonde hair was a lovely steel blue, sparkling and intelligent. His brow had an interesting spiral to it at the end, something that intrigued you in the fact that it suited him. His arms were strong and seemed toned, his hands calloused from what you now knew was likely years of experience in the kitchen. 

    He turned his head to you, and you quickly spun away, giving him a small thank you as you stepped out onto the street. The lights of the Baratie glowed behind you, the elegant sign above the front door bright and inviting. There weren’t too many people out since it had grown pretty late, the sky fading to shades of dusk and early night. There was a slight chill in the air and you bundled into yourself to fight off the cold. 

    After noticing your minuscule shiver, Sanji had pulled off his suit jacket in an instant and laid it over your shoulders. “Would hate for a darling like you to catch a cold.” He nodded, resting his hand hesitantly on your lower back. His gesture was welcome, and you weren’t about to reject the warm jacket, but now you worried about him. 

    “Won’t you be cold then?” You asked him with a gentle smile. 

    With a shrug, he gave you a comforting smile. “I’d much rather freeze than allow a lady to shiver.” He nodded, his chivalry shining through with everything he did. Though he was basically a stranger, you felt like you could trust him. Speaking of, he seemed to realize in that instant that he didn’t know your name, and made a show out of asking. 

    With a flourish, he had bowed to one knee in front of you, holding one hand in your grasp as if he was about to propose to you. “Please excuse my incorrigible manners my lady, but may I have the honor of knowing your name?” He was staring up at you like you were made of stars and jewels. 

    You laughed, and urged him to stand, giving him your name. Even just the knowledge of your name seemed to make him elated. He spun, clasping his hands together as he endlessly mumbled affectionate praises. 

    “A lovely name for an even lovelier lady!” He cheered, his attitude much different from when he was arguing with the head chef of his restaurant. His nature, however silly, did lighten your mood. Sanji seemed to glow with glee as you lit up with a smile, embarrassment rising to your cheeks as his compliments struck you. 

    His compliments never seemed to cease, and they began to fluster you thoroughly. It went from subtle ones, like “I’m sure you were out of that damn bastard’s league anyways.” to, “The way your eyes sparkle in the moonlight reminds me of dew in a king’s garden, like jewels in the most extravagant of treasuries.” At this point your stomach was roving with butterflies, and you honestly had never felt prettier. Sanji had a way of speaking that made you feel like the only woman on earth. 

    “How about we go grab a coffee?” He offered, sure that it would warm the two of you up. It was late, but the night could still be considered young. You didn’t have work the next day and could sleep in if you wanted to, and you didn’t think you were quite ready to cut your evening with Sanji short just yet. Though his jacket was offering you a well of warmth, the tips of your fingers were beginning to feel frigid. In a burst of confidence, you reached for your companion’s hand, slipping into his grasp sheepishly. 

    “Yeah. That sounds good to me.” You responded with a short nod, becoming more comfortable with the idea that this was a date. Sanji seemed as though he was going to pass out, the combined feeling of your smaller hand tucked neatly into his alongside your soft voice sounding pleasant and happy hit him like a truck. With his free hand he slapped a hand over his face and turned away from you, a heavy flush over his pretty boy features. His mind was racing and he struggled to calm himself down, taking deep breaths to still his pounding heart. 

    Sanji managed to relax, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. Regaining his dignity, he shot you a dazzling smile that sent your head spinning. He led the way down the street, shortening his strides to match yours. His hand was warm and strong in your grip, something that definitely comforted you. Tugging on him gently, you slipped your joined hands into the pocket of his coat that was still draped over your shoulders. His cheeks were ablaze with heat, his eyes wide as his confusion slowly faded once he realized what you were doing. 

    You sent him a sunshine-filled smile, and Sanji let out a soft sigh. Managing to keep his cool, the chef just focused his eyes ahead of him. He was unsure if he would be able to form actual words if he had tried to speak. Your sweet nature was making him melt, and he hadn’t even known you for more than an hour. He had ultimately decided that he’d made a good decision choosing to take you out to cheer you up. 

    The two of you spoke back and forth, conversation flowing easily as you made your way to the small but picturesque coffee shop that was still open. You ordered your favorite, something sweet, and waited patiently as Sanji ordered a simple americano. You moved to pay, but the blonde fervently declined, adding a honeyed croissant to his order before paying for the both of you. You sent him a look, but he just made another remark about how he wouldn’t be a true man if he let a lady pay for her own order. 

    It didn’t take long for the barista to make your drinks, and soon you had your hands wrapped firmly around the base of a styrofoam cup, enjoying the warmth your drink offered. Sanji took a sip of his americano and let out a satisfied exhale, content with the taste. You blew softly on the steam that rose from yours and waited for it cool before closing your eyes to revel in the sweet flavor. 

    “Good?” Sanji questioned, something in him a bit disappointed that you no longer had the need to hold his hand to keep warm. 

    “Mhm! It’s always good, every time I order it.” You nodded, your breath making small clouds in the chilly night air. Leaning further into Sanji’s coat, you sent him a look, curious about the croissant he had purchased. “To be honest, I didn’t peg you as a pastry kind of guy.” You gave a short, soft laugh as the two of you began walking again, off to an unknown destination. 

    “Oh? Everyone likes pastries, angel.” He grinned wide and gleefully, sending you a smirk. He took the mentioned treat out of the little paper bag the barista had given him and split it evenly, offering half to you which you graciously took. The flaky pastry all but melted on your tongue and it caused you to hum with delight. “See?” Sanji took his own half and savored the sweet honey, pondering thoughtfully for a moment. 

    “I guess so.” Shrugging, you paused for a moment in your walk when you felt your phone buzz. Your eyes widened when you read a text from your date, and you had to tighten your grip on your coffee for fear of accidentally dropping it. 

    ‘im here. wru?’

    Sanji must have noticed your sudden shift in demeanor because he stepped a little closer to you, concern sparking in his bright blue eyes. He didn’t mean to read your texts, but with his short glance he had seen a text from someone who he could only assume was the bastard who had stood you up. From the look of it, he had ignored you for a good two hours, and it sent a wave of fury through the cook. What kind of person left a lady like yourself waiting for two hours? He placed a light but steady hand on the small of your back to make sure you were okay. Somehow you had felt more comfortable with Sanji during the entirety of your short walk than you had when you were messaging your date. 

    “Everything alright, sweetheart?” He asked, partially in an attempt to make sure you were okay, and partially because he wanted to draw your attention off of your date. That smile you had worn so happily had dropped in an instant the second you had received that text and it was beginning to make Sanji’s blood boil. You looked so divine when you were enjoying yourself, now the bastard had gone and filled your beautiful eyes with apprehension and sorrow. Sanji had never met the guy, but he knew he hated him already. 

    “Oh, uh, yeah.” You were startled out of your anxious thoughts by his gentle voice, turning to look at him. “Um, my date just said he’s at Baratie.” Your lips quirked downwards as you tried to figure out what to do. 

    Sanji furrowed his brows and gently tugged you over to a more secluded bench off the sidewalk and next to a cute little park, his hand on your back becoming more of an anchor as your thoughts began to race. Did you go back to the Baratie and pretend as if your date hadn’t left you waiting with no explanation for two hours, or did you stay with Sanji and continue the little coffee date you had found yourself thoroughly enjoying? You felt inclined to return to the restaurant, only because you had set up prior plans even if he hadn’t shown, but what you really wanted to do was stay with the charming blonde cook. Sanji had already treated you better than your date ever had, but your prior engagements still shouted at you. 

    “That bastard.” You heard Sanji mumble before he stepped a foot or two away to light up a cigarette, making sure to blow the sultry smoke away from where you had seated yourself on the bench. “Do you wanna go back?” He asked, glancing over his shoulder. Annoyance and anger was evident in his tone, but you knew it wasn’t directed at you. It took you a moment before you quietly spoke up. 

    “…Honestly, no.” You sighed, coming to a conclusion rather easily. “I just feel kind of bad about it since we did make plans and I won’t be showing up.” Your head tilted down as you messed with the styrofoam cup of coffee that you had set in your lap. You used your fingernails to make small indentations, a small frowny face soon evident in the cup’s exterior. 

    “Why would you feel bad about that? That’s what he did to you. He left you hanging for hours, and he thinks he can just show up now? It’d be perfectly reasonable to tell him to fuck off and block his number. ‘Scuse my language, angel.” He scoffed, unhappily taking a puff of his cigarette as he held his coffee cup loosely in his other hand. It peeved him enough that the guy had the balls to stand you up, but now he was back and demanding your attention. After two hours. 

    You thought over it, before nodding. “Yeah. I probably will.” Biting your lip, you took a final sip from your coffee cup before disposing of it in a nearby bin. You paced over to Sanji, enjoying the slight heat his body gave off against the cold night air. He glanced down at you and jokingly offered you a puff of his cigarette to cheer you up, but was utterly in shock when you took it from his hand and took a long drag. His eyes widened and for a split second, Sanji thought he was in love. 

    You exhaled and watched the smoke drift away, still burdened by too many thoughts. The feeling of a short nicotine rush cleared your head for a second before everything came rushing back. You made a move to take another drag, but Sanji slipped the cigarette out of your fingers before you could. “Careful, princess, these’ll kill ya.” He sent you a comforting smile, to which you sighed and returned. 

    Tugging at his tie to loosen it, Sanji shoved his hands into his pockets and watched the smoke from his cigarette dissipate into the night. Your heart felt weighed down still by your date’s texts. The chef glanced over at you and tilted his head, before holding out a hand to you. You had no hesitancy in your mind when you took it, letting him lead you into the park. The usual bright colors of the neatly kept flowerbeds were dulled by the low light, everything cast in a silver glow from the bright crescent moon. 

    Humming along to some tune in his head, Sanji led you to an open part of the park, before stepping underneath the arched roof of a round gazebo. He waited until you were set on your feet before he spun you gracefully, a delighted laugh leaving your lips. His hum increased in volume as he began to lead you in a dance, skillfully stepping with you in time to an invisible rhythm. A content smirk settled on the man’s face as he held you carefully, his eyes taking in the sight of you gleefully going along with his movements. 

    The two of you danced around the gazebo, laughter filling the air as you felt pure elation building in your chest. Sanji picked up on it, a heavy blush evident on his cheeks. “You’re beautiful.” His softly whispered words drew you to a halt, glancing over at his awestruck face. He seemed utterly taken aback, his eyes wide. Quickly regaining his senses, he slapped a hand over his face and leaned back against one of the short railings creating the outline of the gazebo. Embarrassment was abated in his expression, obviously he didn’t mean to speak with so much intent in such a serious tone. 

    Your heart warmed, and you could feel heat rising to your own cheeks as you stepped closer to him. “So are you.” You responded, sending him a smile that held the sun, moon, and stars. You had really never felt so attached to someone so quickly, you yearned to learn more about the man in front of you, something about him piqued your curiosity. 

    His blue eyes widened, and he pulled his cigarette from his lips to let out the sweetest laugh you’d ever heard. He ran his hand up his face and through his hair, leaning his head to the side as he rested his eyes on you. “I never expected I’d be complimented by an angel.” Exhaling a puff of smoke, he pushed himself up, dreading the words he was about to say. 

    The night had grown long and cold, and it was beyond midnight. He wanted to keep you well into the morning, talk about nothing and just enjoy your presence. But he could also see the tiredness creeping into your features, the small yawns you hid behind your palm. Your eyes blinked slowly, and your breaths were long and deep. Catching you on the trail end of a yawn, Sanji put his cigarette out and dusted himself off. 

    “Alright, sweetheart. It’s getting late and you’re getting tired. Can’t have you falling asleep on the way home.” He leaned over you slightly, resting his hands casually in his pockets. You gave a joking pout, before you stretched and nodded. 

    “Yeah, that’s fair.” Tucking your hands in the sleeves of his jacket, you frowned at the idea of giving it up. You’d found it more comfortable then you had expected, draping over your form. “Thanks for.. y’know.” You gestured vaguely. “Helping me out. I had fun.” You sent him a smile that shocked him to his core, and he turned his face away to hide his utter dismay at having to bring your mini date to an end. 

    “Anything for you, darling.” He managed to wink, hastily gathering his dignity. “Allow me to walk you back to your car? I assume you drove to the Baratie.” He offered you his hand. Part of the reason that he suggested walking you back was to prolong his time with you, and the other was to make sure you got back to your vehicle safely. It was late and dark, and he wouldn’t forgive himself if something happened while you were on your own and he could have made sure you were safe. 

    “Oh! Yeah, that would be nice, thank you.” You took his hand as he led you out of the park and back down the sidewalk. Exhaustion was beginning to tug at your limbs. You lightheartedly swung your joined hands, making Sanji smirk down at you. You had him on cloud nine with every cute motion you made. Eventually you leaned into his side, the blonde man happily supporting you. He was thankful somewhat for the dark and your sleepiness, you weren’t able to see the dark blush across his face. 

    He carefully put an arm around you, making sure you were alright with it, before he tugged you a little bit closer. It had only been an hour or two since he’d pulled you from the Baratie on a hare-brained whim to cheer you up, but now it was the best part of his day— week, even. You had felt safe and comfortable the entire time you were with him, establishing a connection that you felt eager to explore. 

    You weren’t sure if it was the wine in your system, but nonetheless a wave of confidence flowed through you. Standing on your tiptoes, you pressed a light, appreciative kiss to Sanji’s cheek, causing him to freeze and tense up. His fists clenched as he struggled to keep himself together, his heart pounding out of his chest. “Thank you, Sanji.” The way his name rolled off your tongue was the breaking point for him, and he pulled away, hiding his face in his hands. He took a deep breath before knocking his head back and staring up at the night sky. 

    “You’re something else. I think you might be the death of me when I take you out again.” He chuckled to himself, his romantic nature setting loose as he had already made plans in his head to take you on a proper date. 

    “When you take me out again?” Sanji glanced over his shoulder at your words, his eyes growing wide as a sheepish grin stretched over his face. You definitely weren’t against the idea. 

    A sunshine-filled smile lit up your expression, and the chef felt internally relieved when he realized he hadn’t spooked you off. Regaining his confidence, he bowed with a flourish, sending you a teasing wink. 

    “Of course, I’d like to take you on a proper date, angel, if you’d let me.” 

    “I’d like that a lot.” 

    The two of you shared gleeful expressions as you neared the Baratie, content in the glow of each other. Sanji brought you to the front door then followed you to your car, leaning on your window once you’d rolled it down. He looked picturesque, his strong arms rested on the frame while his face was accentuated by golden streetlights and silver moonlight. He sent you a charming smile before suddenly remembering to ask for your number, to which you laughed and obliged. He sent you a short text to make sure you had gotten his number in return, and you saved his number to your contacts. 

    “I had a nice time. Thank you for the coffee.” You nodded, leaning back into your seat as you admired the way the soft breeze shifted his fluffy hair. You hated to leave, but he probably had to help close up, and you didn’t want to keep him long enough to become a nuisance. You satisfied yourself with the thought that you’d meet up again. 

    “Anytime! I’m glad I could help cheer you up a bit. Broke my heart seeing such a pretty thing upset.” He grinned, before giving your door a light tap and sending you a wink. He was as charming as ever. “Get home safe, alright angel?” Your heart fluttered in your chest at his words. You bid each other goodnight, and you drove off, watching Sanji wave you off in your rear view mirror. 

    It was only when you’d made it home that you realized you still wore Sanji’s thick suit jacket, panicking for a second before you shot him a text. 

‘hey!!!! i forgot to return your jacket!!!!’ 

    You smiled warmly at his response, clutching your phone to your chest. 

    ‘No worries, princess. You can return it on our next date ;)’

#— 🤍 ; minific monday!! #vinsmoke sanji x reader #sanji x reader #one piece x reader #one piece #one piece fic #one piece fluff

[tyongf-nct]

hey i’m a long time follower but i do not want to show who i am! your stories made me want to learn english so thank you for that :-)

i wanted to ask if you could write a wayv (any one) x reader where the reader is a soloist and the wayv person (sorry i forget the word 😂) mcs with them and they fall for each other

sorry for my poor english i am still learning !

hi!! thank you so much for the long time support 😭 and WOW that is a huge thing for my writing to do so THANK YOU for telling me that!! that is so kind of you to say and i am really glad my content has been enjoyable for you. pls never be afraid to slide into my inbox whenever!! and your english is literally amazing, you’re doing great!! 🫶 i am sorry this has taken me so long to answer, school has been killing me these last few months 🥲 but i hope you enjoy! 💕 i decided on kun bc this story idea felt so sweet just like him 🥰

dynamic: fem!reader x qian kun

warnings/tags: fluff, love confessions, mc!reader, mc!kun, fluffy blurb feat. romantic kun

~

“Cut!” The producer’s voice echoed out across the sound stage, and you sighed in relief as the work day came to an end. You smiled to the staff member who took your MC microphone from you as you stepped off the small platform, a hand swooping in to guide you gently down the step.

Your breath hitched as you looked over to see Kun’s nimble fingers clasping yours, his handsome face smiling. You felt the heat brush up onto your cheeks as you nodded your thanks. Your hands stayed connected for just a beat too long before he released you, walking off the stage in the direction of his green room. You bit your lip, gathering the courage to follow him before walking a little too fast to not be embarrassing to anyone watching. Which, you hoped, no one was.

His door was already closed by the time you reached his room, and your fist that was ready to knock on his door froze in midair. You didn’t want to bother him, but you were dying to get asking him out over with. Over the past several months that the two of you had been working together you had grown closer, sharing meals nearly every day on and off set and filming for hours together. Now that your time as an MC was almost up, you weren’t sure if you and Kun would stay connected. Even if he didn’t feel the same way, at the very least you wanted to remain friends.

Huffing, you gathered the courage to draw your fist back again to knock when his door suddenly swung open, revealing a shirtless Kun. Unable to stop yourself, you looked down at his defined abdomen and greedily took in all his deliciously sharp angles and muscles. It wasn’t until you heard your name uttered by his smooth voice that you whipped your eyes back up to meet his. You tried to calm your racing heart as you laughed nervously, Kun’s face gentle and amused.

“Can I help you?” He chuckled.

“Yes!” You squawked. Clearing your throat, you tried again, “Mm. I mean, yes.” There, much calmer.

“I just, er, I just wanted to talk to you. Quickly, I know you’re probably tired,” you smiled brightly. He returned your smile, ushering you inside.

“Of course. Although I’m never too tired for you,” he hummed. That familiar heat made its way back up your neck as you giggled quietly.

He slid a plain t-shirt over his head, much to your relief, as you sat gingerly on the small couch in his room. Kun came to sit next you to and gave you his full attention as he faced you.

“What did you want to talk to me about?”

You picked at the skin near your thumbs as you took a deep breath, trying to find the right words.

“I—well, I’m just going to be honest. I have had so much fun MC-ing with you this year, Kun, and I hope that we can remain friends after our contracts are up. I…I just wanted to tell you that I think you’re amazing. And I’ve…I’ve grown to…” you trailed off, suddenly nervous at his possible rejection. Kun was calm as ever though, watching you with his gentle and open expression you had grown to love so dearly. He nodded encouragingly, letting you gather your thoughts.

You inhaled and exhaled, looking him in the eyes. “I’ve grown to like you. As in, more than a friend. I understand if you don’t feel the same way, but I just wanted to tell you, before it was too late,” your voice was quiet, just above a whisper. The room was silent for a few beats, and a small horror that you had ruined a wonderful friendship began to creep up inside you.

Kun banished those thoughts in the next moment, though, as he slid closer to you and grabbed your clammy hands. He held yours in his one of his own as the other held your face with devastating softness.

“Y/n…I…I’m so glad you told me that. That took a lot of bravery. Certainly more than I have,” he chuckled to himself. “I feel the same way. I have for a long time, but—honestly, I was just too nervous to confess.”

Your mouth dropped open in shock as you stared at him, watching his full lips curl into a grin as he let you take in his confession. Kun still held your hand and your face as you processed what he had said.

“Really? You, you feel the same way?” Your heart raced even faster as Kun nodded, taking his hand from your face to clasp both your hands into his.

“That’s…well, that’s great! Awesome! Ha!” You laughed brightly, relief crashing through you as your mind raced with the fantasy of finally dating the man you had fallen for.

“It is great,” he laughed with you, bringing you in for an unexpected hug. You paused only for a moment before returning it, breathing in that comforting scent you had become so accustomed to being around. The two of you pulled apart and watched one another with happy faces.

“So, do you want to go on a date?” You asked merrily.

“Wow, I have got to learn how to be this confident,” Kun shook his head, and you shoved him playfully. He snorted, then looked into your eyes with his big brown ones.

“Of course I do,” he said softly. You struggled to contain your squeal, throwing your arms around his neck once again and relishing in feeling his chest shake with laughter before his arms came around you once more. You stayed like that for a while, racing heartbeats calming and beating as one.

#asks #anons #tyongf-nct #nct #wayv #kun #qian kun #kun fluff #kun x reader #qian kun x reader #qian kun fluff #nct fluff #wayv fluff #nct x reader #wayv x reader

[thatsthewrongwallcraig]

What if the reader has been bugging Craig to trim his facial hair and he finally says that if she wants it done, she has to do it. So they go into the bathroom and she makes him sit down so she can reach his face (activate size kink). She straddles his lap to trim his beard and when she's done he ends up playfully picking her up and manhandling her into the shower (no points for guessing where I got that from 😏).

Viking

Summary: That monstrosity of a beard has to go!!

Pairing: Craig Cody x fem!Reader

Word Count: -1.7k

Content Warnings: Domestic Smut 18+!, Mentions Of Covid-Lockdowns (Ugh..), Pet Names, Sloppy Shower Sex, Unprotected P In V, Creampie

A/N: This request has been collecting dust in my inbox for over a year now… Gemma, I’m so so so sorry but still: SURPRISE!!! (Please no one talk to me about Ben’s current short haircut, okay?! I’m still in active denial about it…)

I'm low-key embarrassed to post this bcs I'm so terribly rusty crusty in writing Craig...

Tagging:

@hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @ysmmsy

Out of the corner of your eye, you shot Craig next to you a glance. Both of you were busy brushing your teeth and the only sound present was the scrubbing of plastic bristles between your jaws.

“What?” He huffed, pausing in his movement for a moment whilst meeting your assessing gaze.

“Your beard.” You stated bluntly, pulling the toothbrush from your mouth, ready to spit the amalgamation of liquified toothpaste and saliva into the sink below.

“What’s with that?” His eyebrows knit together in a slight wave of confusion as he watched you emptying your mouth before flushing it with a cap of mouthwash right after.

“It’s…uhm, it’s kinda grown a bit, don’t you think?” You turned your head to look at him again, dollops of frothed-up, minty toothpaste splattered all throughout that hairy monstrosity covering the lower half of his face.

“And?” Craig pushed, still not really getting the notion of what you were on about.

“It looks dirty…it’s giving a little homeless, Craig.” A grin formed around your lips as you watched his facial expression render into a small pout.

Following you, he cleared his mouth from the toothpaste and placed the brush back into a cup, where it awaited its next use right next to yours.

“Just a little homeless, yeah?” Craig playfully nudged your side with his elbow.

“No actually, it’s giving full-on caveman style… Viking wildman unkempt.” It fell from your mouth in a chuckle although you meant every word of it.

“Uh-huh..”, He gathered some water from the faucet in the curved palm of his broad hand to wash the leftover toothpaste residue out of his beard, “And you are so incredibly bothered by that, yeah? Am I getting that right?”

With a soft smile ghosting over his lips, Craig cocked an eyebrow at you whilst still leaning over the sink, droplets of water cascading through the scruffy mess of chestnut-brown facial hair.

“Yes, in fact, you are getting that right.” You stated, reciprocating that little pout and crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“Well, if you feel so unspeakably distressed by the pure manliness in my face you better be the one to trim it because I, for sure, won’t.” He shut the faucet off, throwing you a teasing glance.

“Be my guest, Craig!”, He didn’t need to hand you that invitation twice, “Let me grab them scissors while you sit down right here.”

You pointed your head toward the wide edge of the bathtub behind you before you leaned down to fish for a pair of barber-grade scissors from the drawer below the sink. On occasion, you used them to cut your own hair, a little thing you’d taught yourself during the seemingly endless lockdowns not so long ago.

“Okay, okay, Miss Beard-Police.” In an amicable mocking manner, Craig threw his hands up a little whilst walking past you to take a seat on the edge of the bathtub. 

Even in a sitting posture, Craig was tall. Stupidly tall as you liked to call it at times. His broad shoulders easily cupped your frame when he hugged you and getting on your toes for a kiss barely helped. 

“Don’t be such a pussy about it, Craig, it just needs a good trim and some shape to it. It’s not like I wanna cut it all off.” You stated in a gentle chuckle, your brows furrowing at the thought of where to start with this eyesore.

“I’m not a pussy about it.”, He taunted you playfully, “May I remind you that you never, not once complained about this piece of art in my face when you sat on it, huh?”

“Uh…hearsay! Dismissed!” You shot right back, leaning in to twirl the chin section of his beard together to separate it from the rest.

“Pfft, dismissed…” Craig scoffed in amusement, rolling his eyes a little as he watched you doing your work. 

As soon as the middle part was sectioned off, you trimmed the outer sides first for a good few parts, cut-off bristles raining down all over his chest and collarbone. 

“Oh no…that feels like a lot..” He sighed play-pretend melodramatically, letting his shoulders hang loose.

“You sound like me at the hairdresser’s…pussy.” It rolled over your tongue in a quiet cackle.

“Daring today are we, hm?” Craig arched his brows at you whilst you straightened the middle part out again to match it in its length and form, acknowledging how much he treasured that grown-out goatee situation.

“Oh, are we feeling a lil’ triggered by your woman being in the right here, huh?” You pushed it further, administering some final snips to bring the whole thing together.

“There we go. All done and presentable again.” Satisfied with your work, you took a step back and placed the scissors on the sink.

With an uncertain expression on his face, Craig got up from the edge of the bathtub to take a look at himself in the mirror. For a moment, he studied his face, taking in the freshly cut and finely shaped form of his beard.

“It’s…hmhmm, it’s not too bad.” He concluded after a moment, turning his head towards you again. 

“See?” You nodded in agreement.

“But now…”, Craig started out before taking a wide step towards you to simply pick you from the tiles underneath your bare feet, “I got all those flimsy, cut-off hairs on me and that calls for a shower now, no?”

A halfway laughed-out shriek fell from your lips as you recognized his buff arms raising you off the floor, heaving you right into the tub before he stepped in himself. 

“Come here..” He pulled you right under the showerhead with him, opening up the faucet for a stream of comfortably cool water to wash over your bodies. 

Although the days neared the end of summer, the humid Californian heat was still rather unbearable hence the cold wetness running over your skin came as a welcome refreshment. You sighed out in relief before you felt Craig’s lips latching onto yours in a hungry kiss.

With eyes closed, you reciprocated it, allowing him to pull you even closer into his tall statue.

“Was kinda hard to sit still with you all naked in front of me, babe..” He groaned into your mouth, his hands wandering down your back to trace the curve of your behind with his fingertips.

“Oh, poor boy…” You chuckled back, a quiet moan escaping from your lips as you felt his palms cupping your ass. 

“It’s time for payback, hun.” Craig warned you before he tightened his grasp around your thighs, hoisting your legs up to wrap around his waist like it was nothing.

“Is that so?” You aimed to mock him a little, but instead, you nearly choked on your own words as Craig rocked his waist into your lap, letting you sink down on his hard-on inch by inch. 

“Fuck…” You mewled out, hiding your face in his chest whilst your hands clawed at his shoulders, nails drilling into his skin.

You felt Craig’s cock drilling into you slowly, spreading you open to accommodate his size until he was filling you all up to the brim. No matter how many times you’d already experienced this sensation, it still sent a shiver of goosebumps all over your body. 

“Not so bratty anymore now, huh?” Craig groaned, his lips brushing over your forehead before he started thrusting into you under the stream of water.

“J-just because I called you out as a pussy?” You murmured into the skin of his chest, trying to catch the breaths that he was set on knocking out of your lungs. 

“Yeah..”, He huffed back, rolling his hips against your crotch in a firm pace, “Exactly because of that, missy.” 

Your brain rattled, the gears inside turning, trying to come up with some sort of snarky remark but every stroke of his girth against your insides rendered you plain dumb on his cock, leaving you to whine and mewl into the curve of his neck. You sensed your brain converting into a big pile of fucked-out mush and you didn’t resist. With all your senses trained inwards to savor every thrust of his, you felt that tell-tale coil in your lower abdomen tightening up, getting ready to simply snap with the next, well-angled roll of his hips against yours.

“Oh, so needy all of a sudden…” Craig cooed into the crown of your head, still holding you close to his body whilst feeling your cunt clenching down around his cock in irregular contractions indicating your rapidly approaching orgasm. 

“Hmhm…” You haphazardly managed to moan out as your whole body turned rigid, your legs clasping around his hips as the first waves of your climax rippled through your system.

Nerve endings set ablaze, the sensation went straight to your brain, leaving it short-circuiting for a blissful split second and wiping every leftover thought from your mind. For all you knew, Craig fucked you right through your climax, your contracting and pulsing cunt pulling him in deeper until he spilled his load deep inside of you with one last deep rut into you.

“Goddamnit, fuck…” It rolled over his tongue in a guttural groan drawn right from the depths of his lungs before he pulled out of you, placing your shaky legs back into the tub as gently as his trembling arms allowed him to.

The mixture of your own arousal, his cum and the water from the shower head above trickled down between your thighs in a tacky avalanche only to vanish down the drain seconds later.

Whilst taking a few, much-needed deep breaths, you looked at each other with a stupidly wide grin smiling.

“Maybe…”; Craig muttered through the wash of water, “Maybe I should let you cut my beard more often.”

#tam rambles #craig cody #animal kingdom fanfic #animal kingdom tnt #craig cody x reader #craig cody × you #craig cody smut #ben robson

[akutashi]

Chuuya with a partner who squirts during sex

Tags: 18+ MDNI, squirting, over stimulation, oral (receiving), fingering, pet names (baby), (1)pussy slap, it’s not specified but I’m tagging this as unprotected sex just in case, your typical begging, hints of aftercare (bc chuuya’s a king tbh♡)

WC: 747

Requested by anon

Once Chuuya found out that you could squirt, it was game over. Chuuya savors any and all reactions he can get out of you, he loves to know how good he’s making you feel and it helps boost his ego a little bit. He absolutely adores your whines as his tongue runs its course up and down against your clit. Thighs draped over his shoulder, pressing against his cheeks as he adds his fingers to the mix, rubbing his fingers in gentle circles before he inserted them into you. Methodically pumping them in and out of you, twisting and turning his fingers to make sure he hits every proper spot inside of you that makes you clench around him and raise your hips up as you cry out.

It’s coming, you can feel it as your heart beats against your chest and your torso is seen inflating and deflating as you breathe in and out. It feels like a pulse, a tingling sensation as Chuuya wraps his free arm around ine of your thighs, pulling you closer to him as his face is now even more dangerously close to your entrance. It feels harsher now that he’s even closer, every taste bud on his tongue running over your sensitive core. Your palm meets his forehead as you try to use it as force in a failed attempt to push him away from you. “Don’t try to stop it baby, you know exactly what I want.” Chuuya stops to say, pulling his mouth away to kiss your inner thigh. His fingers don’t stop though as you feel the release of the liquid release from inside of you. Warmth slowly leaking down your thigh as your face contorts, nose scrunching up as you whimper. The sound of his fingers pumping in and out of you are more prominent now, the loud noise due to the residue from that release on his fingers allowing for him to slide his fingers in and out of you at a more vigorous pace. It’s enough to make your cheeks heat up as you constrict around his fingers as you feel the heaviness in your stomach start to grow.

“Chuu’ ‘m gonna cum.” “Do it, come on baby, let me see you cum.” His voice always has that air of confidence, one that knows exactly what he’s doing.

You’re crying, begging and cursing as the liquid keeps coming, slowly beginning to stain the bed sheets as he pulls his fingers out. He stares at you, absolutely infatuated as he lets you catch your breath.

“Think you can give me one more?” His smirk is absolutely deadly as you give him a faint nod. He grabs your legs, pushing them up by your head and spreading them. You’re on full display for him now, red and swollen from all the stimulation.

He lightly taps his tip against your core causing you to let out a small shriek, “Chuu’ please,” you beg him.

He easily slides himself into you, the perfect position to be able to get you to take as much of him as you can. The first few thrusts are experimental, slow and calculating, trying to find the best pace. He eyes you under him, gauging your reactions. He’s settled on a slower pace, allowing you to feel every inch of him as his balls meet your bottom with a soft muffled slap. His thrusts are so long that he’s practically pulling out of you with every one, just keeping his tip in before filling you up again.

And he’s right, every thrust that allows him to reach the deepest parts of you as he possibly can causes your face to contort as you wriggle underneath him. After all this time it’s almost like he knows your body better than you do, the way you tighten around him is enough to tell him to pick up his thrusts, they aren’t much faster at all, just enough to send you over edge as you let out a cry, your final release trickling down your thigh again as he pulls out of you. Your legs lay limp back now flush against the mattress as you catch your breath. Chuuya’s always clingly and soft after sex, arms lightly around your waist as he presses a soft kiss to your cheek. “Here, let me take care of you now.” You smile and nod as he gets up to grab you a wash cloth to help clean you up.

#bsd smut #bungo stray dogs smut #chuuya nakahara smut #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya nakahara imagine #bsd imagine #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs imagine #cw:squirting #cw:overstimulation #cw:oral #cw:pet names #tw:unprotected sex #bsd imagines #bungo stray dogs imagines #bsd #bungo stray dogs #chuuya nakahara