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kithtaehyung · 6 months

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u suck !! (m) (3tan special) | myg

3tanoween special: u suck !! pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) series: masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call | busted rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: jimin’s cul-de-sac is filled to the brim with autumn leaves, trick-or-treaters, and halloween spirits. but the scariest part of the night? yoongi himself. and the way he looks downright sinful in his costume. note: BOO!! :))) happy halloween and i love you all so so much. if you haven't read three tangerines or the rest of the series yet, i highly recommend diving into that first! this would make a whole lot more sense lol note 2: this is gonna be heavily unedited bc i literally started it on tues🥹 and consider this a pocket universe/side story for now until i mention anything otherwise :)) warnings: [explicit warnings under the cut] language, house party, alcohol/drug mentions, vampires are present but there’s a different type of sucking going on HEYO!!, tight spaces, yoongiiiiii🥺🥺🥺, one (1) uncomfy hug, jimin is a warning, yoongi is a bigger warning, kissing is a staple warning atp, yoongi in black leather and chains ahahahahah, tension, angst bc it’s me🤪, you have to be quiet :)), but it’s so hard :))), yoongi hands🥴, so many doll mentions, cus this reader is a barbie!!!, this yoongi is out of control and i’m not stopping him 🤷, ermmmmmm yoongi’s voice🧍‍♀️this is all i can say🧍‍♀️, ...VMIN??? drop date: oct. 28th, 2023, 12:17am est word count: 11.5k🫣

explicit warnings: choking, head/hair tugging, min yoongi king of consent wbk, fingering, breath play, oral (m rec), ass play, chains lmfaooo, tears, face fucking, back shots, cum swallowing, breast play, protective sex, …public sex🫣, nasty dirty talk, he’s rude and we love it and he knows that we love it😩

—

“Oh, did you get the cookies?”

“Yeah, they’re already in the back,” you huff out as you rush around the car. After getting in and catching your purse strap on your very pink heel, you explain while slipping it free, “And don’t worry, I made un-iced ones for you.”

Your brother sighs in relief, as if you’ve never done that for him before. “Thank god.” As he backs out of the driveway, he gives your costume another glance. “That damn movie. I feel like I’m gonna see three hundred of y’all tonight.”

“Barbie was great and you know it.”

“Whatever. Aren’t you gonna be cold later?”

“I got this.”

Steering the wheel, he sighs, “Okay.. You’re gonna regret that.”

“Yeah, probably.”

Fixing your tee and smoothing out your skirt, you make a mental note that he didn’t comment the usual things about your costume this time. Whether it’s because you grilled him about the Dalo incident or not, you’re pleasantly surprised.

The only thing he complained about was that couldn’t dress how he wanted in peace.

“You still could’ve been Ken, you know,” you think out loud. “All you had to do was throw fur over that jersey.”

“Nah, the coat I got is expensive as fuck.”

“So is the jersey?”

“I have two of these.”

“…I will never understand you.”

The drive to Jimin’s isn’t too far, and the streets are already occupied with people in various characters. When you pass by a Ghostface costume with pink heels and a sign that says ‘This Barbie has a knife!,’ both you and your brother give it an approving laugh.

If the atmosphere in the neighborhood was buzzing, it’s Jimin’s cul-de-sac that bursts with the biggest Halloween charm.

Every yard around the semi-circle is chock full of decorations, from the ghoulish to the whimsical. Orange and purple lights scale whole houses, trees are covered in ghosts, and inflatable spiders and kittens rest on every surface you can see. Glee spreads throughout the whole setting as trick-or-treaters of all ages stop along the sidewalks, gawking at the views and running up to doors to procure sweets.

It’s magical.

But you can’t enjoy it at the moment because your brother has to park way down the main street. Which means you’re subjected to his teasing as you make the trek in enormous heels.

Ugh.

At least he’s carrying everything.

“Damn, look at that house,” you point, adjusting your purse and almost teetering over.

“That’s a shit ton of cobwebs.”

“The lights are so nice, though.”

“Uh huh.”

After forever, you finally get to Jimin’s house, going through the open garage and already greeting the yells and hugs upon arrival. Some people are dressed up and some are in their regular clothes, but everyone seems chipper.

And it’s even louder inside the house. All of you have to practically yell to hear each other.

“Hey! You made it!”

Damn, Jimin looks good as a vampire.

As your brother says hi, you try super hard to not stare at his silver hair, avoiding his bare chest under that ruffled white shirt entirely. “Hey, Chim! You’re all decked out, holy shit.”

“Ah, thank you! We both are. The lady at the Halloween place gave us a discount.”

“For what?”

“Uhh, being cute? What else?”

Adorable. If he went with Taehyung to get costumes, you wonder how extravagant your best friend looks.

When you laugh, Jimin stops to look at you with his jaw dropped. “Wow, look at you, Barbie!” Turning to your brother, he teases, “You let this happen?”

“I will throw you against the wall right now, fang boy,” he responds with no hesitation, which pulls a high cackle.

“No fighting tonight, please,” you drone, smiling while giving the handsome vampire a side hug. “Everything looks so good!”

“Yeah? Spent all day decorating.”

“Well, it shows.” Noting how Jimin always has great cologne, you take the trays from your brother while asking, “Where do you want these?”

“Ah, in the kitchen! Here,” he offers, sliding them onto his puffy sleeves. “Follow me. You can see what we have.”

His cloak brushes both your legs as you’re led into the big area, and your eyes feast on the assortment of themed desserts and drinks.

Whoa. There’s even a bubbling pot of red punch? Jimin really has gone all out this year.

Maybe Tae has something to do with this uptick in ambition.

“Yoongi! You, too?”

Huh? Him, too?

“Yeah, it’s fucking hot.”

Hot? What could possibly be—

Oh.

Fucking.

Hell.

It’s your fault for assuming it was Tae that Jimin went to the store with. It’s your fault for not even entertaining the possibility that Yoongi would dress up.

And it’s all your fault for not being able to process what’s happening because even your own brother teases you when you cannot form words.

You can’t help it. There’s literally no way.

Because seeing this man up close, decked out head to toe in shiny black leather and hair properly tousled as if he just had wicked sex?

How the fuck are you supposed to react!

“I think you broke a wire in there somewhere,” Jimin comments through puffs of giggles, finally snapping you out of your inappropriately timed trance. “Ah, there she is!”

Recover. Holy shit, you gotta recover.

“I just—” You gesture to the demon with your hands. “I didn’t think you’d ever dress up.”

And Yoongi has the audacity to respond with,

“Why?”

“I mean. I thought you were..” Flailing for anything, you blurt, “I dunno, boring?”

Amusement shoots out of both your brother and Jimin, carving a sickly upward curve into Yoongi’s face. When he looks away to poke his cheek, you know something’s coming.

But when he glances back and drags his eyes from your feet to your awaiting face, you're completely unprepared when he drawls,

“And you dressed basic for what?”

Disbelief slams your jaw straight into the ground, your little audience bent back with laughs so loud that some people around your group glance over.

Oh, you wanna launch yourself at him so fucking bad. Wipe that stupid, smug taunt off his face.

But there are other ways to come out victorious. And you can’t exactly do anything with your sibling so close.

“Alright. Okay,” you hum, nodding and thinking of a thousand ways to incite revenge in private. “I’ll remember that.”

“Won’t help you, doll.”

Shit, did he really just call you that out loud?

Ignore it, ignore it, ignore it he’s just saying that in the open because you’re a Barbie. “Whatever, Neo.”

Yoongi quickly smiles in confusion. “Neo? I’m a vampire!”

“Oh, yeah, cus you suck.”

Your brother and Jimin are full on titillated now. While one blows out air, the other plants a hand on Yoongi’s shoulder while creasing over from glee.

And you spot your friends arriving, which turns into perfect timing for you to slowly retreat with a middle finger and a lip bite. “Bye, suckas!”

Your brother can only shake his head before turning to grab a cup, and you barely—just barely—catch the fiendish spark in Yoongi’s eyes as he bites his grin right back.

You can’t believe you got through that whole interaction so smoothly.

Because every time you’ve caught peeks of Yoongi since then, your body’s reaction is downright visceral. Borderline feral.

And it reaches its peak when you get a text from the devil himself.

Yoongi [10:02pm]: Fuck

Shit, you can’t do this.

If you start texting now, too? There’s no way you’re gonna be able to resist him.

But the two drinks in your system are very smooth talkers, and you’re convinced immediately.

You [10:02pm]: what🥺

“Let’s go!” Yuri yells, dragging you along.

“Where’re we going?”

“Garage. Table’s about to be open.”

From the backyard, it takes a minute for you all to weave through the people inside to get to the designated card game area. So you don’t get to read Yoongi’s text until you’re waiting for a table to clear.

Yoongi [10:04pm]: You know exactly what

You [10:04pm]: 🤪🖕

Yoongi [10:04pm]: I better not find you alone

Fuck, you want that. Frankly, there’s literally nothing you want more right now.

It’s been way too long since you’ve seen each other, and even more since you’ve gotten to do anything that leaves you breathless.

So being this deprived and witnessing him in that costume? Yoongi’s the vampire but you’re the one that wants to suck the soul out of him.

You [10:07pm]: maybe i want that

It’s official. You can’t hold back your replies tonight even if you try.

Between drinking and a haze of thoughts solely connected to him, you find yourself getting more and more needy.

Yoongi [10:07pm]: You don’t

You [10:08pm]: but shyyy

You [10:08pm]: whyyy*

This is bad.

Why can’t he be super annoying instead—

Yoongi [10:10pm]: 🤷‍♂️

Well.

You [10:10pm]: 😐

Yoongi [10:10pm]: Lmaooo

Taehyung chuckles next to you, and you immediately lock your phone while giving him a slight nudge. “Shut up…”

“I will once you stop sexting.”

“We are not!”

“Uh huh. And I’m not wearing a suit.”

Scoffing, you give him a once-over, wondering why everyone except for Yoongi decided to forego a goddamn shirt today. “What are you supposed to even be?”

“A model.”

He’s full of shit. “You just wanted to wear this outfit, huh.”

“Yup.”

Small huffs leave you both as you wait just a bit longer, and you let the night air and music lift your spirits until you get another text.

Yoongi [10:13pm]: You look great, doll

Why does he have to say all the right things?

You truly don’t know how you ended up here. To be able to receive compliments like this from him of all people? It’s a wonder this whole thing isn’t just one big dream.

Fueled by the excitement and comfort only October can bring, you lean into this conversation and type a genuine reply.

You [10:13pm]: so do you baby

You [10:13pm]: i better not find you alone either

Wait.

Have you ever been that bold?

Seems like tonight is making you a bit scary, too.

Yoongi [10:14pm]: 👀

And rude.

You [10:14pm]: 😛😛😛

“Get off your phone, babe! Enjoy the night!”

“Sorry, sorry,” you whisper, belatedly dropping your device in your purse and following everyone to scraping chairs and rustling clothes.

The air feels even chillier at the table, and you’re thankful for the warm metal seat this time when your bare skin makes contact. Peering out of the garage, you can see that the night is still active as ever with more and more people walking around.

Maybe poker and cool autumn weather will quell the heat swirling in your core.

Nope.

Even your card game can’t distract you from what happened. You still have the whole thing running through your mind, replaying Yoongi’s expressions and feeling more and more want build between your legs.

Under a skirt that's completely the wrong length for how it feels outside.

But you try your best to focus on having fun with all of them, especially since Dom and Tae keep eyeing each other and smirking at you whenever you try to ask what’s up.

“You know what’s up.”

“Dom!”

“Don’t act like we can’t see it.”

Hiding your smile with a cup, you break, “What!”

“Babe, you are thinking hard about something,” Dominique points out as she swishes her long white locks—a perfect Storm on your left. As she lays out cards, another comment flies out, “And I don’t like that smile you got going on.”

“Yeah, what’s that all about!” Yuri joins in, and you pout at her high pigtails while she stares at her hand, chucking her cards in the center.

Then Reia folds, too, her pretty nails extending the sleeves of her ninja getup so well. “Probably thinking about her boyfriend.”

“He’s not my—”

Four pairs of eyes instantly give you a look to just give it up already, and you flounder as they all tease you in various ways.

“Is he coming?”

“Yeah, are we finally gonna meet him?”

“Yeah, babe,” Tae repeats, resting his smug cheek on a palm. “Are we gonna meet him?”

Glaring, you respond to the pair of cards in your hand. “Not yet,” you answer honestly. “Call.”

It’s you against Taehyung, and Dom flips another card in the center.

“Hold on,” he stops. Turning to you, he bets, “If I win, we get a name.”

What?

Gawking, you try to send him every single signal in the universe telling him to take that back. The chills you get compound with the dropping temperatures, and you suddenly can’t move your fingers.

Even Dom is shocked trying to play fair. “Hey, we don’t have to force them.”

But Yuri and Reia are already all for it, siding with Tae and getting excited for the face-off.

Shit, shit, shit. Your cards are good, but you never fucking know with your opponent. Someone even more mysterious than Min Yoongi.

Fuck it. “Fine,” you blurt, watching Tae’s eyes fully enlarge in surprise.

Oh, shit, did he not expect you to call his bluff?

Fuck, what if his hand is better!

Sweating while frozen all over, you wait for Dom to flip the final card.

Damn, damn, damn. You can just make up a name, right? You can just brush it off with a pseud and call it a night.

But you know they’d be able to tell you’re lying. So you have to win this, you have to win…

That last card may have just saved your ass.

You and Taehyung give each other a look, and you can’t tell if he wants to beat you or is sad that he thinks he did. Either way, he looks stricken.

“Straight,” he claims, laying down his cards while Yuri and Reia cheer.

And you breathe, checking your hand one more time before regarding him again.

With a flourish, you reveal your cards with a boisterous, “Full house, bitches!”

Loud groans mix with Dom’s close-call hiss of an exhale, and all the slaps on the table get the attention of everyone in the garage.

And outside of it.

While you’re raking in everyone’s chips, you glance over to see Jimin and Yoongi looking in from the sidewalk, some of their friends also wondering what the hell happened.

At this, you get so shy that you don’t even acknowledge them, instead turning right back to the table and sitting down with your winnings.

When Dom gives you a look, she asks, “You good?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you stumble, rubbing the cold from your arms. “Let’s keep going.”

After another shuffle and deal of cards, you finally gain the courage to look out into the driveway.

Only to see them talking amongst their group again.

This is agonizing.

Why the fuck did Yoongi have to dress up? It’s doing things to your insides that you never would’ve guessed, and watching him be all casual while looking like sin incarnate isn’t helping.

Maybe it’s the way his hair is still so ruffled, or the way his shoulders stand so broad—which never fails to destroy you.

Or maybe it’s the way some people give him the biggest heart eyes and others rope him into pictures, knowing that you’re the one that he just texted.

Your next hand is quick to be tossed on the table, which gives you a chance to glance again.

Of course, the thought that some people here are probably ones Yoongi’s been with before awakens darker parts of you.

Like that girl that just caressed his arm.

But they aren’t as powerful as before, because you’ve been reassured a thousand times over.

He’s not like that anymore.

But as he’s pulled in for a picture with some other Barbie’s, you’re promptly reminded that he’s still not outwardly taken, either.

Which coaxes another, sadder side of you to come out of hiding, casting a shadow over a fun Halloween night.

How much longer can you take being the one in the dark?

Screw waiting to find Yoongi alone.

You’d rather be standing together.

Activities bustle about the house while the neighborhood is very much still alive.

Some kids do brave Jimin’s scary yard and, thanks to his foresight, anyone who’s near the open doorway simply tells them to grab as much candy as they want from huge plastic cauldrons—while hiding any drinkware they might be holding.

The only reason you know any of this is because you found yourself near his front door with your friends, and two tiny witches walk up to the porch with full buckets.

You and Tae are the ones to greet them, with him beaming a hi and you following up with a question,

“What’s your favorite candy?”

“Chocolate!”

“I like gummi bears.”

Ah, that might be a no-go for the second one.

Leaning forward, you rummage through one of the plastic bins. “Ooh, I know we have plenty of chocolate, but.. I don’t know if we have gummi bears out here. Tae, can you check inside?”

“Yeah! One sec.”

As he leaves, you keep searching while Reia asks them another question,

“Can we know what spells you ladies are learning?”

One of them doesn’t respond, but the other in a frilly dress fires out an answer,

“I’m learning how to turn boys into cats!”

Excellent. Wide-eyed, you wholeheartedly support their decision. “That’s the best spell to learn. Can I see?”

“Yeah!”

Just as timing has it, Taehyung is far gone.

But a wonderful replacement shows up in Jimin and Yoongi as they're spotted walking across the yard, and you quickly call them over. It seems they’re joined at the hip tonight.

“What’s up!”

“Come here real quick!”

When they oblige, you check with the parents on the sidewalk and see if you’re taking too long.

When they give you a thumbs-up, you turn back to the kids, “Alright, let’s see it!”

“Okay!”

Yoongi gives you a look, and you grin. “She’s learning a new spell.”

As soon as the girl waves her wand, she shouts, “Turn into a cat!”

Straightforward. Succinct. Admirable.

Jimin immediately lets out a gasp and holds paw hands in front of his face, which makes the little witch giggle like hell.

But what Yoongi does makes everyone react, and your jaw unhinges while something wildly potent rushes through your stomach.

The man puts fingers on his head in the shape of cat ears—something you didn’t even know he knew how to do—and in the plainest voice, lets out a low,

“Meow.”

Oh. God.

Not only does Jimin burst at the seams, but you, your friends, the little girl, and her quiet companion all start laughing.

And Yoongi’s wide grin at the child almost brings tears to your eyes.

“That’s not a cat!” she corrects while smiling, and he’s immediately affronted.

“Yes, huh!”

“No!”

“Look! I have ears!”

“No! You sound like a human!”

“You need to keep practicing that spell then!”

Delighted, the little girls burst into laughter again.

Who is this man? You feel like you know more about him than you ever hoped to, and yet… Yoongi’s still a mystery.

One beautiful, scary, amazing mystery that you will never get tired of discovering piece by piece.

When your thoughts dissipate, you notice that he’s now aiming expectant eyes your way, and your heart beats extra extra loud.

But quickly, you understand. Raising your arms above your head, you do the same ear-shape with your fingers, beaming when he looks satisfied and feeling full when the little ones try it, too.

“We’re all cats now!” you exclaim, and they shout in agreement before running down the sidewalk to continue their adventure.

You have no idea what just happened. Zero clue.

But what you do know?

You’re not letting that go. There’s no way Yoongi’s escaping that interaction and you’re gonna hang it over his silly old head forever.

“I didn’t find gummi bears but we have fruit snacks—oh, they left?”

Swiveling, you regard Tae with shock. “Wait, you really looked that whole time?”

“Ah.. Yeah. Felt bad cus, umm. All the gummies in there are definitely not for kids.”

“Oh, it’s okay.” Chuckling, you give the other two boys a grateful look. “I think they left pretty happy anyway.”

There’s one other thing you know for sure.

Seeing how Yoongi can be with children?

Any sanity you had left to give has been absolutely, positively vanquished.

Jimin’s whole cul-de-sac seems to always throw parties that people love to stay at.

An hour later, it’s still packed around the semi-circle of houses, and even you are delightfully buzzed and joining in some of the action.

But even though the alcohol is helping, you are still freezing.

Of course, there’s no way you’re letting your brother get another told-you-so in his bucket, so you endure the cold as you watch him and Shiv challenge Yoongi and Jungkook in beer pong.

To no one’s surprise, the youngest one has also chosen to not wear anything under his white suit. With clattering teeth, you refuse to believe he’s not shivering under that thing, too.

“Y’all took so long to win that one,” your brother shit talks early. “You ready?”

Kook’s brows pinch as he whines. “I thought he was good at this!”

“I am!”

As Yoongi fires off excuses to an unconvinced Jeon, you and a couple people laugh at their spat. But it’s when he claims that he’s just rusty that your sibling interjects,

“Oh, bullshit, Yoong’s lying! I do all the work when we duo!”

Ah. There they go. Eyes and mouths adorably creased to hell, “The fuck you don’t!”

“Oh, yeah? You don’t do shit!”

“Me? What the fuck happened last time!”

Gosh, there’s a lot of bodies walking through the backyard right now. You have to shift around as they pass your area, and what the fuck did someone brush your ass?

You jut your head sideways to see if anyone looks guilty, but the whole crowd just keeps moving.

Well. It wasn’t a blatant slap or anything. You definitely would’ve thrown hands if that was the case.

Their argument comes back into focus as you shiver.

“When?”

“At Hobi’s?”

“Okay, wait, that doesn’t count.”

“It does—!”

Your brother’s unannounced shot drills into the cup right in front of Yoongi’s crotch, and everyone around the table stops on a dime.

“Can we play now?” he asks, tilting his head. “It won’t take long.”

Shiv adjusts the red cap on his head, and it’s hilarious seeing him so serious in a full pokemon trainer costume. Especially when he shrugs at your opponents while they pin him with annoyance.

If you weren’t freezing, you would’ve laughed a little more. Your arms are fully caging you in at this point, and it’s hard to even rub your legs together.

More people walk through the area, and you have to shuffle backwards again to make room as they pass by.

“You look so good, Barbie!” one of the girls praises, and you compliment her matching aesthetic just as genuinely.

Your brother was right yet again.

There are plenty of pink and white outfits walking around.

Unfortunately, this combo that you decided on pulls eyes the whole night, all of which you are choosing to ignore.

There’s only one person you dressed up for today. Everyone else can take a damn hike.

Maybe this is why you’ve gravitated towards your brother and his friends instead of wandering more. Taehyung and the girls went back to playing cards, but you wanted to watch this game despite going solo.

Oh, well. There’s a whole group of you watching and you’re getting a little warmth from body heat now.

“Course it won’t take long.” Yoongi rubs a wrist, and you puff out air when he gives Shiv flack. “Not with him on your team.”

“Hey!”

The game commences, and everyone’s missing cups by the slightest mistakes. But one by one, they get set aside as shots finally start falling for Shiv and your brother, and pretty soon they’re down to the last one while Yoongi and Jungkook have a bunch.

Frankly, you don’t exactly remember how it all went down. Because all you can think about is how attractive Yoongi looks when he competes.

And watching him dip soaking fingers in water cups isn’t helping your mental in the slightest.

Fucking hell, you didn’t think this through. The price of finally getting to be around him? You can’t do much else except watch.

And your self-control has never been tested so egregiously in your life.

“Any last words?” your brother asks, his partner rolling an airy ball in his fingers.

And Yoongi takes a deliberate sip of his liquor before responding with a drone, “Yeah, hurry up.”

Smiling, you feel pity for the vampire. Because he’s about to lose whether Shiv makes this or not—which he in fact sinks with no issue.

Your brother only shrugs as people yell around the table, and you taunt Yoongi with your eyes as he turns to poke his cheek, fishing out the shot with long fingers.

Still a goddamn menace.

“I thought you were good at basketball,” Jungkook complains in a huff, roping his attention.

“I am.”

“So do something!”

“Am I holding a basketball?”

Jeon groans, but Yoongi quickly eyes Shiv with all the confidence in the world as he switches his attitude with a resigned,

“Fine.”

And he makes a quick dagger shot, too.

All of you react as mister basketball holds lazy arms out, and your sibling calms the crowd down with swipes. “Fluke! Nah, hey, that was a fluke!”

“Don’t listen to him.”

“Okay then, do it again, bitch.” Immediately, your brother hits a fast one into the same last cup, and people erupt again while Yoongi and Jungkook regard the solo with dread.

Your laugh seems to reach both their ears, because they both look at you with different faces,

“Whose side are you on!”

“You got something to say?”

“I’m not on anyone’s side,” you clarify with a smile. “You all suck.”

While Yoongi cocks a brow, your sibling calls you out with a knowing laugh, “You wanna shoot for them?”

“No, I’ll make it.”

He chortles again, and you get the strangest look from his best friend—someone that doesn’t know you’ve had plenty of experience doing this with your brother when you were both bored at home.

Is that pride? Curiosity? An intriguing mix of both?

Whatever it is, you feel wings flutter about your stomach and fight to keep your emotions internalized.

“Just lose already,” your sibling taunts. “Then we can do that thing Jimin’s talking so much shit about.”

“The haunted house?”

“Yeah, that.”

After both guys fail to make a comeback, you watch your brother and Shiv gloat as much as they possibly can.

And you’re about to move forward when another group of people blocks your way, damn near tripping as you step back.

While you’re waiting, a guy spots you and throws his arms up in recognition. “Hey! What’s up, how’ve you been!”

Huh.

Who is this man? Are you supposed to know him?

“Hi!” you call back, deciding to stay polite more than anything else.

Truly, you kinda feel bad because you have no idea who this is oh he’s going in for a hug. Okay. Strange but that’s whatever okay whoa it’s a full hug. Ah, he’s really squeezing you. Alright. Interesting.

As he lets go, you try to make small talk and ask how he’s doing. Because you feel terrible for not… remembering him...

He’s already walking away.

And you feel the most uncomfortable you’ve felt in months.

Umm.

What the fuck was that? Did he know you or not?

…Did he just want a hug to feel your tits?

Motherfucker.

Your eyes find Yoongi as soon as you feel an ick, now exceedingly cold both inside and out. All this time, you’ve avoided all the stares and only smiled while politely leaving others behind.

So to feel that disrespected just because you were considerate makes you want to hurl.

But when Yoongi moves to strip off his coat, you freeze for another reason.

Because he’s watching that dude leave.

Looking pissed.

Something deep inside of you rumbles to life, and you can’t explain what it feels like wait what’s he doing now? Why’s he walking right towards you why is he—

He’s not—

What is he doing?

He’s not gonna—not in—not in front of everyone, right? Not in front of your brother, right?

Right?

…This is bold as fuck.

Your denial is so substantial that you don’t even move when he gets close, handing you incredibly warm material and looking murderous in a black tee and pants.

“Here,” he offers, voice hardened gravel. “Put it on, doll.”

Damn. No subtlety this time?

You don’t even wanna know what your brother could possibly look like right now. All you feel are several eyes watching your every move, including some that aren’t particularly friendly.

But you whisper out a quiet thank you before he shakes his head.

“I should’ve done this sooner.”

“You didn’t know.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

When you take one look at his expression, you drop any other sentences you were gonna say.

Yoongi is actually furious.

Your stomach churns up a flurry of emotions as he turns, nodding to your brother that’s looking over with Shiv.

Ah, fuck. Did all of them see that, too?

They don’t need to do anything drastic. You’re fine if just.. feeling a little violated.

Okay maybe you’d look the other way if they avenged you.

“Y’all good over there?”

“Yeah.”

Oh. Your brother didn’t see a thing.

That’s probably best for everyone involved.

“Let’s go then!” he yells, finishing his drink while Shiv puts all the cups back in place.

And Yoongi stays next to you, not caring if people give him looks. “Come on,” he mutters. “Just stay with us.”

“Okay.”

No other words are spoken as you walk out the backyard.

But when Jimin pops up with Taehyung and your friends, Yoongi pulls him aside while you ask how the poker games went.

The usual comments spring up immediately. Yuri complains about Taehyung being too good, and Dom and Reia quickly tell her she needs to work on her face.

Laughing the edge off, you see your brother checking his phone.

And just like the shadowed expression Jimin now has on his face, the hand your sibling smoothes over his head doesn’t seem like a good sign.

The haunted house was amazing, and it was a wonder you got through it in your shoes.

But you need a break after all that screaming. And you already spent a lot of time saying goodbye to your friends before they left.

So instead of joining Taehyung and his group in conversation, you keep to your own thoughts, sipping on punch while watching balloons cross kitchen tiles.

Ironically, you need anything to get through the loneliness.

Even more people latched onto Yoongi earlier. Which you should’ve seen coming after his whole ensemble was revealed.

But he had to keep them entertained because he isn’t taken. Not officially; not to them. There couldn’t be hints of him being cuffed, especially when your brother could see him at any moment.

Did you feel jealous? Upset?

To your pleasant surprise, not really.

Because unlike New Years, there’s been more history between the both of you that can never be repeated anywhere else. Ties that have woven between your bones and connections that you have no plans to sever.

You cherish them. And you’d like to think that he does, too.

All the flirting just sucked to see up close, though.

A sudden tap on your shoulder makes you jump.

“Fuck, sorry. You okay?”

As you see your brother and not another stranger, relief floods your system. And you hate how jumpy you are.

So you lie a bit. “Yeah, why?”

Hmm. He looks… out of sorts. You’re halfway into questioning the bend in his brows when he quickly asks,

“You good to go home with your friends?”

Wait, huh? That’s new. “Oh. They left but Tae’s here. You okay?”

“Something came up at work so I’m heading back.”

“The fuck? On Halloween?”

He shakes his head before running a hand over his chin. “Yeah, I dunno. But if you don’t wanna leave just have him bring you back.”

Damn. He’s not even concerned about you staying? What the hell is going on?

And thinking about things… do you wanna stay anyway?

Looking out into the house, you do a quick sweep before deciding that you’re gonna tough this night out. Taehyung’s still here, and you can hang with his circle.

You’re staying. Wishing for the best, you let him go. “K. Hope it’s all good.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I just have to clean up someon's mess.” Your sibling squeezes your shoulder in a final goodbye before stepping away. Pointing to the ground, he warns, “No one better try shit with you.”

“Go,” you usher with finality. “Text me when you’re home.”

“K.”

He heads out, and you’re left with your cup that you forgot you even had.

Staring into it, you somewhat wish you heard a familiar laugh in your ears. Throwing yourself back to that New Years night when Yoongi hung back in the kitchen just to talk.

Maybe he’s still preoccupied. Even after you gave him back his coat, ignoring his look of confusion.

After another half hour of feeling alone, with no vampire man in sight, you admit you're a little defeated.

Maybe you should have left, too.

Your purse buzzes, and you slowly fish out your phone while not looking at anything in particular.

But when you focus on your screen, your heart squeezes in double time.

Yoongi [12:43am]: Where are you?

Feeling a mix of emotions—relief, confusion, anything in between—you text back.

You [12:43am]: kitchen. but i was about to leave..

Yoongi [12:44am]: Don’t

Yoongi [12:44am]: Gimme a sec

This is it.

This is why you stayed.

Because one thing Yoongi has always proven to you is that he will make time. Whether it takes him a day, three months, or two hours.

Yoongi [12:50am]: Come up, doll

And you will wait forever.

However long it takes.

You [12:51am]: ok

It’s a short trip up the stairs from near the kitchen, and you wonder what’s gonna greet you when you get to the second level.

Are people up there? Is he just telling you to come so he could be near you? Or is this a clandestine meeting where he steals you from the night like the fiend he’s dressed as?

All of these thoughts wander about your head like specters.

But as soon as you reach the top, all you see is Yoongi, glancing up from his phone before stowing it in a coat pocket.

So unfair.

In the obnoxiously red and orange lighting, he looks even more devastating, standing like he’s been haunting your dreams for years.

And you hate how small your voice is when you greet him with a measly, “Hi..”

Very much unlike yours, Yoongi’s energy is loud. Powerful. He takes his time, consuming you with his gaze and making you feel so, so shy in heels that are somehow still on.

“Come here.”

“You sure?”

He hesitates.

And with a heavy heart, you wonder if he has the same question.

But he walks toward you instead, and you feel vulnerable. Nervous.

What’s he doing? What are either of you doing?

There’s a lot of people here still, and it’s not like they don’t know you. And they clearly know Yoongi quite fucking well.

God. You hate this uncertain, murky feeling. Because it could be solved so simply, so quickly.

But nothing in life is ever quite that easy for you, nor for him. So the paranoia lingers and lingers.

However.

When this man leads you away from the stairs, your fear spins into thrill, your nervousness taking on a new meaning.

“Yoongi…?”

With a shuffle of leather, you’re positioned right in a corner, breath catching because holy shit anyone could come up at any moment.

Why is Yoongi not nearly as concerned as you feel? Is he not jittery with nerves?

Judging by his lowered lids and unbothered line of lips, no, he is not.

As he looks around, warmth from his coat slowly swallows you on both sides. His hair cascades forward; his breath can be heard in the space between.

And you really do feel like he steals you away—from the night, the party, the world.

“Now what,” you whisper in pure nervousness. “Gonna bite me? Drink me? Suck me… Dry…”

His lips ghost along your neck, and you grant him all the access you have when he murmurs,

“Is that what you want?”

Your check for understanding is a sigh, “Want…hmm?”

“Me to suck you dry.”

You know what he means. And you’re already fighting for air as your exhale shakes. “Yes,” you admit. “Lemme do it, too.”

His dark hum rumbles your core. “Uh uh,” he rejects, one arm separating you from the rest of the room. “Only good girls can do that.”

That’s unfair. Fuck, that is really unfair.

You pant before gripping his coat in your fingers. “I’ll be good.”

“You’ll be what?” he asks, licking a small stripe along your throat and making you flinch.

“Fuck.” Your breath is harsh now. Very, very harsh. “A good girl.”

“Good.”

You feel the slightest nick of teeth as he lunges into your neck, and you have to clamp your lips shut to keep from mewling out loud.

Holy fuck, you’re already so wet.

There’s no way Yoongi can suck you dry at this point. Certainly not with the limited amount of time you have.

And the motherfucker knows it, his laugh pulsating down your spine. “So sensitive.”

“Yoongi—”

Again, he attacks, sucking hard once before running his tongue along the sting.

Thoroughly overwhelmed, you dissolve into mush. Your legs buckle under the pleasure, sparks of desire firing along your limbs as your ankles work double to keep you upright. “Baby...”

“You taste so fucking good.”

More. You need more and you need it now. “I wanna—”

Without warning, his lips finally find yours, arms fully encasing you in leather as he slams both hands on the wall.

“Yoo—”

And your heart leaps into the kiss while your fingers zip right to his face, tugging him in until your noses smush.

For someone with a million concerns before, you’re devouring him without any shits given and it’s magnetic. Electric. Magic. Sparks zip down your skin, pebbling your nipples and sending your toes in curls.

Hints of whisky and smoke pepper your tongue, and you know your breath proved similar if just a bit more reserved.

But you can tell something’s off.

He’s holding back.

Why? Why are his hands still firmly on the wall? Why is he keeping his distance even though you’re standing right here?

If you’ve been fiending to touch him the whole night, he had to be feeling the same way.

So what’s with the sudden hesitation?

Your body thrums with need, yearning for those large palms to roam and venture across every inch. Aching for him to erase that stupid hug from earlier in a way only he can.

“Baby,” you whisper. “Please.”

“Please what.”

“I need you.”

“I’m right here.”

“No, I”—you grip one of his wrists—“Please touch me.”

“In here?” He pauses, pinning you with concern. “You sure?”

Swallowing, you take in the music and conversations downstairs, hearing laughs and other exclamations.

Were they always that loud?

“I’m doing this for your own good, doll.”

Heart stuttering hard, you question, “Why?”

Yoongi only lets out a huff. “Cus…” Leaned in fully, his hot breath fans your face, all of his dark syllables drenching you in hellfire,

“If I touch you, I’m not gonna stop.”

“Fuck,” you rush out, breathing so hard your chest billows out. “I want that.”

“You don’t.”

Fuck yes, you do. You aren’t letting another chance pass by. You’re feasting on him whether it’s for two seconds or one thousand, and he’s gonna do the same to you.

Because as much as he’s holding back, you can tell he wants nothing but to tear you apart. A monster in the red lights strung around the game room.

And you’ll let him.

Consequences be damned.

“I do,” you finally admit with a whoosh. “I don’t give a shit right now, Yoongi, just do it—”

Any other words are snatched from your mouth as you’re pinned against the wall, your reward in the form of rough skin and thick leather sliding all along your sides.

Immediately, the coil in your belly rumbles to life, tightening click by thrilling click as you tug him in even closer.

Between kisses, you grit out how stupidly attractive he looks, and his chuckles are so dark that you feel them shake your core.

“Thought I was boring.”

Another groan into his mouth. “You know I didn’t mean that.”

“Say sorry then.”

It’s your turn to giggle, “And if I don’t?”

Fingers ghost along your throat before they squeeze in warning. “Try it.”

Attempting a whine, you press your shoulders back into the wall, fingers still clinging to his dark shirt. “I kinda… I kinda want to.”

“I know you do.” He shoves one of your legs away with a strong thigh, pushing his weight forward and accusing, “Wanna be a brat so bad, huh.”

Desire is doing wonders for your confidence. You’re not gone, but you’re influenced enough to let your thoughts flow.

All you needed was the last hit of this man’s magnetism. “Wanna be a lot of things for you..”

Amusement rumbles out like thunder. “Like what.”

Giggling, you admit, “I didn’t dress like this for nothing.”

“I know.” He kisses you in a way that has you swooning. “I could get used to this.”

“This wouldn’t get old?”

“Fuck no.” His hands move straight to your ass. “Not if it’s you.”

Confused, you pout in a whine. “You said it was basic.”

“It is.” He goes right for your neck for another feast. “And it’s fuckin’ hot.”

He then nips your skin in earnest, tugging his name out of your throat and causing you to claw into his hair.

“That guy just wanted to feel me,” you suddenly sigh, hating how you’re still thinking about it even now.

“I know.” Yoongi stops before watching your eyes. With a finger on your chin, he checks, “You okay?”

“Just make me forget it.”

He keeps his gaze on you for a moment more, forehead pressing against yours before he vows, “You will. He won’t.”

And your lips are fully captured before you can respond.

You missed this. You missed this so fucking bad and you’re pretty sure you’re saying everything out loud but you don’t mind. Yoongi deserves to hear it and you are gonna live this out to the fullest.

If he doesn’t hear you, he certainly feels you. In the way you rake at his hair, tug at his chest, sling your arms around his beautiful neck.

But your frantic actions are stopped when he growls,

“Fuck, you shouldn’t’ve come up here.”

“Wait, why—”

“Cus now I’m—Fuck it, come on.”

Before your mind catches up, your body is being rushed into the nearest door: a guest room that’s surprisingly not occupied.

“Yoongi, what—”

He holds a finger on his lips before peeking through the door, and he shuts it with a click when he seems convinced.

And you’re even more alone with the demon of your dreams—now shrouded in bright white from the string lights in this space.

You have no choice but to submit to his hands, stomach flipping as he seizes your lips with newfound energy. When you respond in kind, he backs you up until your legs hit the guest bed, setting off another alarm in your fizzing brain.

“Baby, you sure?”

“I won’t do much.” Yoongi lowers you down, steadying himself on an elbow. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” His gaze is steady on yours. “Nervous, though.”

Because it’s true. Even if your brother isn’t in the house, there’s a high possibility one of his friends walks through that door. One of Yoongi’s friends, even.

“We don’t have to, doll.”

And if you’re honest…

The thrill of it is enticing.

“We can.”

“I got us,” he assures with a kiss, now grinning like mad. “Lemme live this out just once.”

A bit shy, you bite your lip to combat your nerves. And the million butterflies raging in your ribcage. “And what would that be.”

“Not telling.”

Of course. “You suck.”

Puffs of mirth leave his mouth before he consumes you, and you feel unbelievably scandalous and loving every second.

Because you saw Yoongi leave the door unlocked. There’s no recovering if someone opens it without you both hearing them, because the closet is opposite from the bed. You will absolutely not get there in time.

Be it the holiday itself, or the fact that Yoongi’s positively enjoying himself, you feel more enthralled by the danger than you’ve ever been.

And the fluttering in your chest triples when he lifts your tee. “Baby—!”

“Chill, love,” he laughs, a glint in his eye as he kisses your bra. “Never done this before?”

“No, but—fuck.”

Your soft moan stems from him slipping your bra down, licking at your chest and groaning at your scent.

“God, you’re so perfect.”

Fervently disagreeing, you reply so lightly, “Not at all.”

“You are.” Another kiss to your lips before he moves down to your throat, squeezing one of your breasts with purpose. His weight feels heavenly on your torso, which you label the most ironic given how sinful he looks. “Couldn’t fucking wait to get you alone.”

Fucking hell, do you feel the same. Truthfully, you didn’t think you’d even get the chance. As you arch into his chest, your bare skin heats under his mountain of dark clothes. “Wanted to be with you all night…”

“Same.” The next kiss proves deep, and he slides a hand under your head to claim as much of you as he can. His lips leave yours with a pop before he grips you with conviction. “Fuck, you should’ve been.”

Oh.

You know why he’s holding you so hard.

And it touches the deepest, softest parts of your soul.

Gently holding his taut wrist, you whisper, “It’s okay, baby.”

His eyes stay closed, blocking you from hearing anything that he could be thinking.

But it’s your turn to lift his chin with a finger, and you reassure him with everything you have,

“Nothing happened. Don’t worry, okay?”

Yoongi still doesn’t answer, which makes you sad. One dude shouldn’t ruin both of your moods hours after the fact. He can eat shit and Yoongi deserves to be the one enjoying a perfect night.

So you vow to make that reality.

“Besides,” you continue, waiting until he finally looks at you. When he does, you slyly smooth both hands over your breasts, pushing them together right in front of his face. “These are yours, right?”

Like a switch abruptly flipped, Yoongi’s whole demeanor changes on a dime.

Hungry eyes rake over your chest before he plants a kiss on your fingers before anything else. “What else is mine.”

Your cunt quakes at the question, making you drag one of his hands down to the side of your ass. “This,” you whisper, biting back glee as he grabs right at it.

His mouth hovers over yours now, voice so low it sounds more like distant thunder, “What else, doll.”

And whatever made you so bold washes away in an instant. Because you know what you wanna say but it’s the hardest one to let fly.

Of course, Yoongi knows this. It’s the only reason he’s being so cheeky about it now. “That it?” he asks with a lilt. “You sure?”

Gnawing your lip, you shake your head, garnering more and more courage to tell him one last answer.

“Don’t be shy,” he orders through a wicked grin. “Tell me.”

Just say it. All you have to do is whip it out of your mouth and you can get on with it—

A bunch of voices start getting louder and louder from outside the door, and Yoongi reacts before you can process what to do.

Tee shoved back on and skirt rumpled to hell, you’re quickly rushed to the closet, thankful that Jimin’s house is fucking enormous and gives every bedroom double-doored enclosures for clothes.

Conversation gets even closer. Someone is definitely coming in holy shit shit shit.

Adrenaline courses through your veins as you settle on a sidewall, and the fact that there’s enough room for you to stand sideways is enough to distract your harrowing thoughts.

But Yoongi shuts the doors with practiced ease, dousing the space in darkness with only small strips of light to illuminate.

So fucking unfair.

Just him peeking through the crack in the doors makes you suffer, chains dangling from his chest and the mischievous glint in his eyes giving you pain.

Why does his side profile have to be so perfect? Why is this bad boy adjacent version of him enough to send you into orbit?

Suddenly, two voices burst into the room.

And you recognize both of them.

“—like you said, right?”

“I know, but…”

It’s Tae.

And Jimin.

“Then hey,” you hear your friend say with hope. “It’s okay.”

The coincidence of those words in that room does not get past you.

“You really think so?”

There’s a bit of silence before Taehyung responds, but you suddenly get distracted by someone much, much closer.

Because Yoongi’s slowly roaming a finger along the hem of your skirt, hooking it in and slowly tugging you forward what the fuck!

When your wide eyes meet his, you can tell he’s thoroughly enjoying this. And you have to clamp your mouth shut when he casually starts feeling over your shirt.

What the fuck is he doing!

This man is going to be the end of you.

“So yes. Let’s go back down, yeah?”

“Okay… Just give me a moment.”

Delirium. You’re approaching delirium as Yoongi now watches you suffer, and you buckle when he travels under your tee—up, and up, and impishly ducking his thumb under your bra.

And you almost can’t deal with the feeling.

Because your senses are upped to the highest setting, body on full alert and having to keep quiet when at his mercy.

You feel legitimately wild, mad, drunk off Yoongi’s presence alone. There are literally people on the other side of thin wood and he’s driving you up every closet wall in the house.

Out of your mind, you aim for his neck when you launch your own silent ambush.

And it’s his turn to suffer when you grab at his chains, because you tug him enough to get access to his neck as soon as you hear your friend again.

“Even this room looks nice and it's unused. Seriously, you did a good job.”

“Most of it was your idea.”

“Me? I only suggested it because I knew you could do it.”

Yoongi’s breath puffs over your shoulder, and he buries his head in your tee while you lick and suck him with a vengeance. His hands grapple your hips, taking no time in circling back over your ass.

“Thanks. Okay, I’m ready.”

“Finally. It was getting boring in here.”

A laugh tinkers out before Jimin hums in confusion.

“Weird. Thought I told people to not touch this bed.”

“You just sat on it.”

“I didn’t sit on that side.”

Taehyung responds right as you grope Yoongi’s crotch, and his body locks so hard you flinch at his grip.

“It’s probably nothing. The bed’s still made.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

Mercifully, the guest door opens again before shutting, and you’re left in the weighty silence and faint bass of music coming from downstairs.

Adrenaline still at its peak.

“You’re gonna pay for that.”

“Says you,” you pant, mewling when his lips latch onto your neck for the umpteenth time. “What do we do now?”

After another suck, Yoongi lifts his head. “With what?”

“This,” you clarify, gesturing to the closet space. “We have to leave, right?”

“Do you want to?”

You pause.

If you leave now, you can sneak out of the room and no one will ever know you spent seven minutes in heaven with Min Yoongi.

But if you stay…

“Not really,” you whisper in admittance. “You?”

“Fuck no.”

Your giggles end up in his mouth when he claims you, and you grab at his chains in earnest, tugging him closer before raking impatient fingers through his ruffled locks.

And you’re already fine with this situation. Making out with this man in a closet? Who would’ve thought you would have this opportunity in the history of ever?

So when you feel wandering fingers between your legs, your reaction comes out a high mewl. “Wait—What are you—”

“Careful, doll,” Yoongi quells. “Gotta keep that mouth shut, yeah?”

You nod before realizing he probably can’t see, so you whisper an affirmative before slamming your lips shut.

Because one touch of his fingers on your covered slit has you already losing it.

A manicured hand slaps over your mouth as you widen your legs, gripping his coat with the other as he surrounds you mentally and physically. All you can think about is the way he’s calmly shifting your panties, expertly sliding over your cunt and chuckling right in your ear.

“You’ve been this wet this whole time?”

Gasping, you hum out a yes, and Yoongi laughs the scariest you've ever heard him,

“Nah, we’re fucking in here.”

Holy fuck, what?

“Baby,” you plead in his ear, wanting him in every way possible but knowing you don’t have a condom. “We can’t.”

“Why not?”

“We don’t have—”

“Yeah, we do.” When he senses your confusion, he peeks out the closet door before... leaving.

What the fuck! What is he doing why is he going for a casual stroll with a boner right now?

Oh, he’s back already. But you’re still holding your heart with a goddamn fist.

When Yoongi holds one up, he laughs. “I actually didn’t know if he had some up here, by the way.”

“Sure you didn’t.”

He smirks before pocketing the package, grabbing your face and kissing all the lingering fright from your features. His tongue slides all along yours before he sucks, and his teeth drag over your plush when he lets go. “You down?”

Drunk off his continuously great make-out sessions, you slur out, “Hmm?”

“We don’t have to.”

Your smile is automatic. Knowing Yoongi’s still asking even though he was dead set on it makes giving him the go-ahead even easier.

But you both hear another smatter of activity in the game room outside. And it seems like people are starting to use the pool table.

Fuck.

Do you really go for it?

You’re gonna have to be silent as the grave if you do, because this will be the most sordid position you can be found in.

…Fuck it. Screw it. It’s Halloween and you’re dancing with the devil.

“Yes we do,” you scoff. “But if you break my heels we’re gonna fight.”

His quiet bout of laughs makes you melt, and his fingers feel positively intoxicating when they find your cunt again.

Your shoulders hit the wall with a soft bump as you arch, back to sewing your mouth closed and smushing your head in his clothes. His name slips out on your breaths, and his growls make you quiver with more and more impatience,

“So fucking wet.”

Fuck.

“Gonna take this dick so well.”

Nope. You can’t wait anymore. You don’t care who the fuck is out there, you’re folding and folding fast.

“Please, baby,” you pant. “I need you. Now.”

Yoongi obliges immediately, spinning you around and pinning your front against the wall.

Well, you think he’s on the same page.

Until he clamps a hand over your mouth before fingering you from behind holy fuck you might come any moment now.

Your hands slide into fists on the wall as you moan in his fingers, shoving your ass back to glean as much delicious friction as you can.

“There you go,” Yoongi praises. “Just like that.”

You’re gonna come. You’re already gonna come and he’s hitting every fucking spot to speed up the process. It’s almost unbelievable how quickly he can launch you off the edge, but you suspect this time has something to do with the thrill of your whole situation.

You feel bad.

And it feels fantastic.

“Babe,” you whisper, turning your head. “I’m already close.”

When you clasp a hand around his wrist, he finally finally finally grants you into heaven’s gates. You feel him let up, and you wait with tiny shakes as he rips the condom pack open with ease. The clink of his belt tickles your ears just right, and you quickly think about other dark things.

After a moment and more clothes shuffling, you feel his hands slide along your hiked up skirt before gripping your ass, never failing to worship your body and making you feel fucking pretty.

When he leans forward, his warm shirt and chilly chains on your bare skin alone push you even further. “Hands over that mouth, doll,” he rasps in your ear. “Can’t be loud for me this time.”

“Mmhmm.”

“Good girl.”

As soon as you do what you’re told, you regret not pressing down harder.

Because Yoongi plunges into you so smoothly that your moan almost flows right out of your fingers.

Holy shit you really were that wet. But he's still so big. So, so big, and filling you too well fuck are you being too loud because it feels so fucking—

“Thought you were just gonna dip without saying bye?”

Oh, fuck.

Yoongi did not wait until he was inside of you to say that.

“Think you’d just show up looking cute and talk some shit, huh.”

Damn it. He did. Fuck, fuck, fuck, he’s a demon and you have nowhere to run now.

Delightfully frightened, you shake your head in denial. Repeatedly and full of terror.

“Show me up then.”

He stops all his movements, and you’re left to your own devices. Stranded on his dick with only the wall and your heels to support you.

Oh, he’s a killer.

And he’s all yours.

Thrusting back, you start slow, groaning into your hand at how large he is. It’s a wonder you can even move, and your jaw unhinges when you feel his dick hit a certain spot just right.

Again, and again, you fuck him as deep as you can take, slamming your ass into his pelvis and finding pride in the divots he’s sinking into your cheeks.

Yoongi’s still unhelpful, but you can tell he’s breaking. His grip is getting harder, his minuscule groans lower and more forced. Even the tiniest curse makes you preen, and you throw a look over your shoulder to hear him better.

Which is the worst best thing to do.

“Fuck, doll.”

With quickness, he rams himself into you, a sweaty hand clasping right over yours just as you yelp.

“We aren’t finished with that,” he promises through gritted teeth, and he takes over before you can process what that means.

And his pace is relentless, pumping into you so well that every thrust catapults you across space and time.

You’re outright panting now, feeling him deep in your guts and the strong lines of his forearm pressed into your chest.

“Breathe in for me.”

And you do, feeling his hand close around your throat while fingers lodge themselves inside your mouth.

Fuck!

Your eyes roll so far back you can probably see him if you had light, and you’re mercifully let go before you need to gasp for oxygen.

“Again.”

When you obey, Yoongi chokes you again, and you’re finding it euphoric as he clasps your column even harder. Every time he does, you clench around his cock, and a warm feeling washes over you every time he lets go.

“How’s that feel, baby girl,” he asks, humming in approval when you drag a reply out,

“So good.”

“Good.” He kisses your sweaty cheek before easily admitting, “I like it, too.”

Stilling, you turn as far as you can to regard him, asking in the tiniest voice, “You do?”

He darts his eyes to your lips before nodding. “You can try it next time.”

You smile, not knowing why you feel shy in this position of all things. But maybe you’re just happy that he said that. Because he didn’t need to admit something so intimate in the moment.

“We’ll do whatever you want,” you vow in a murmur, closing your eyes when he captures your lips.

After sliding a tender hand down your cheek, he whispers, “Turn around.”

You immediately do, untwisting your back and relieving the tension in your neck. When you slowly move to face Yoongi again, he steadies you the whole way.

And as soon as you’re settled, he kisses you so hard you fall back against the wall again.

Hands come up to shove your tee upward and unhook your bra, and he gropes at your chest before ducking to take a nipple in his hot mouth.

Surging with pulses, you bury your face to muffle your moans, squeezing your eyes shut from pure ecstasy.

How the fuck are you doing this? With him? If you travelled back in time to tell yourself that this was gonna happen at a party someday, you would’ve been told to piss off.

“Love these tits,” Yoongi grits. “Fuck.”

“I didn’t wanna wear a bra.”

He immediately chuckles. Darkness and sin brushing your chest. “I would’ve left.”

You hum in mirth, knowing exactly what he means by that. As much as you wanted to tease him, you know that decision would’ve immediately gotten him in trouble.

And definitely other people, too.

But the more he keeps licking and sucking, the more you feel it coming. Release. The inferno. It’s on the horizon and you’re just awaiting the crash of relentless deluge.

“There you go,” he rumbles. “You gonna come?”

You pant out before nodding, every muscle thrumming like hell.

And he orders low in your ear, yanking your orgasm right out of your very center,

“Then come for me, doll.”

Your body wracks with jolts, stabs of lightning hitting every limb and locking them at hard angles. A rush of pleasure surges through, filling the closet with a heady scent that makes Yoongi groan pride into your neck.

“Uh huh,” he praises. “Still wanna talk shit?”

And you do. Tears leak from your eyes as you nod, orgasm riding farther than ever, waves unending and your mental shore nowhere in sight.

“Course you do.” Yoongi claims your mouth. “Fuckin’ love it.”

Still, you feel pulled, lost to the universe that’s him and him alone, and you want to reciprocate the same pleasure that he’s providing.

“Baby, I’m still—”

“Fuck—”

You don’t know what comes over your brain, or your body, or whatever else runs on autopilot. But you use the rest of your strength to shove him back, pushing him until he hits the other wall of the closet.

“D—”

You rush out a question before lowering yourself, “Did you come?”

“No, but—”

“Take it off.”

Stunned, Yoongi rushed to unsheath the wrapper, rubbing himself before you take control.

Nothing will stop you at this point. Anyone could come in and you’d still be pleasuring Yoongi until he breaks.

Because you want this. He’s earned this.

Your knees hit the ground right as you take him in your mouth, tasting the strange mix of salt and latex but knowing it won’t be for long.

This is what you’ve been wanting to do since he gave you his goddamn coat, and your imagination has been so vastly outdone by reality that you feel like none of it’s truly happening.

When you flick your eyes upward, you get another thing you’ve been yearning for.

Yoongi is fighting for his life.

You can barely see that his eyes are squeezed tight, and you catch a tiny glimpse of his mouth agape before he bites it shut. When you suck in hard, his whole body flinches, and for the first time that night, he’s the one with a hand over his mouth.

And you feel so fucking elated that you welcome the hot strings of cum painting your mouth, groaning around him and giggling when his essence slips right down your throat.

He’s promising dark and wonderful things above your head, and you feel him grip your chin as soon as you pop off of his dick.

“Open that mouth.”

You show him, hoping he can tell in the dim light that there’s no drop left on your tongue.

“Goddamn.”

You’re tugged up before your mouth is smothered by his, and you teeter on your heels for balance as he whips you back against a solid surface.

It looks like he wants to say something.

But nothing comes out as he clenches a fist next to your head.

As you both calm, only your breaths fill the closet, your scents of passion clinging onto coats and jackets, all of which you could’ve worn in place of the one he gave you.

But Yoongi did something so bold tonight that it was only natural for you to want to take the same risk.

As he kisses you slow, you respond in kind, rolling your lips with his and enjoying coming down from this high with him every time.

Shouts and yells from the game outside pierce into the closet, but both of you exist in your own little world. With you tracing the lines of his shirt and him gently straightening your clothes.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“For what, doll,” he asks in return.

“Making me yours.” When you slightly pull on his jacket, you hope he gets what you mean. “Even if no one else knows.”

His tiny peck on your cheek is genuine and, if you aren’t mistaken, a little prideful. “They’re going to, doll,” he vows into your skin. “I told you, you're gonna get tired of me.”

"Lies," you sigh in peace. “So I get Halloween pictures with you next time, too?”

Yoongi freezes, standing straight before fishing out his phone.

And you fuss up a quiet storm before he lets you fix yourself, smiling at his camera as he squishes his sweaty, satisfied as fuck face right next to yours.

If anyone ever comes across those pictures on his phone, you will never ever tell them the context. They'll never know why your makeup looks like that, or why his hair is even more haphazard, or why you both look way too happy to be in a closet.

Even if they frightened you to death.

Some time later—and after a stressful time sneaking out with a smug Yoongi in tow—you find yourself downstairs and heading out the door with Taehyung.

After he asks where you were, you simply tell him the truth: you were with Yoongi. And end it at that.

With one look at your neck, he hums in amusement.

And you immediately slap a hand over it in shock, embarrassed to hell when he laughs.

But you let Tae tease you all the way home, knowing that you also caught a small glimpse of his life with Jimin. Not that you’ll tell him that until months from now.

When your phone buzzes, you immediately check what awaits you.

And you dissolve into mush yet again.

Yoongi [2:45am]: Text me when you’re home

You [2:45am]: but im not going to your place :((

What is home, if not where you feel the most at peace? Where you feel like you can be yourself and not worry about sneaking around? Where you know someone will protect you and be that person you can go to without any questions asked?

Yoongi [2:47am]: Next Halloween you will be

It’s definitely with Yoongi.

Right now, you know your home is with him.

Smiling, you type another text, full of contentment and looking towards the day all of this can be lived the way you both want.

You [2:47am]: turn into a cat

Yoongi [2:47am]: 😒

Taehyung looks at you when you laugh, and his grin grows when he can tell you’re genuinely happy.

And when Yoongi actually sends you a selfie matching the ear gesture he did earlier, you feel the endearing prick of hot tears in your eyes.

Yoongi [2:49am]: 1 Attachment

He has a distinct matching mark on his neck.

And you are one thousand percent sure he took the picture knowing it's visible.

Yoongi [2:50am]: Meow :)

Happy Halloween indeed.

—

end :)

—

🍊ahhh what do we think !!🍊| join the taglist!

a/n: thank you all for reading! i know this is super super late to post but i wanted it to be decent for y'all before letting it free. if you did enjoy, please interact however you can! even a like is okay at this point, but all tags, reblogs, comments, messages, and submissions in the feedback box are super appreciated.

a/n 2: to any men reading this series, let me tell you.. that hug situation happened to me and some people i know and it suuuucks :(( ladies - and guys, anyone really - if you've had that happen to you i am sending you the biggest genuine hugs and a 3tan yoongi to make it better. and if it hasn't happened to you, then good.

++feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist ⇥ three tangerines masterlist

#BOO!! :)) happy halloween!#bts imagines #bts reactions #bts fic #bts fanfic #yoongi fic #yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #yoongi smut #yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #*ryenfictalk #ryenwrites #three tangerines #3tan #3tanoween #*latest #bts smut

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bloodwrittenballad · 4 months

Text

Saccharine Smile | Coriolanus Snow x Reader

Summary: “One more time” never really meant just one more time…

Warnings: SMUT, oral, fingering, overstimulation, coryo makes you squirt, pet names (baby, doll, sweetheart) praise. it’s short, it’s sweet, it’s filthy! MDNI, i’ll kick your ass and feed you to the snakes!! reblogs and feedback are appreciated <3 gonna try and post a longer coryo fic tomorrow, to celebrate my birthday. lemme know if y’all want that!! enjoy xoxo

“C’mon, baby. Just one more.” Coryo mumbled against your thigh, his lips wet from having spent hours in between your legs. “Just one more. Doing so good f’me, baby.” He praises, his tongue all but relentless on your weeping pussy. Just one more, he’s been saying for hours now. It was like he couldn’t get enough of your soaked cunt and how well it took his fingers and tongue and cock.

“Taste so good, doll.” Coryo tells you sweetly, as his tongue delves between the soft skin of your pussy lips. He licks and sucks like a man starved, taking his time bringing you to yet another orgasm.

Your legs were shaking, cunt soaked and throbbing from overstimulation. You loved it though, and you know he did, too. Bringing you to pleasure with just a swipe of his tongue made him feel like a god, so it made sense that every time he said “just one more” was a lie. Coriolanus would bring you to as many orgasms as he saw fit. You were done when he was done. “Such a good pussy, sweetheart.” He tells you, over and over, voice sickly sweet.

“Too much, Coryo…” you’d cry, cheeks hot and wet from the throes of pure ecstasy only he could reign upon you. “Not yet, darling.” He spits against your aching core, “m’not finished. You can take another. Just one more.” Coriolanus tells you, smirking against the glistening folds because he knows that’s not true.

“M’gonna come, Coryo!” you whimper, head thrown back against the soft and silky pink pillow. Those words, no matter how many times he hears them in a night, lights a fire like no other inside of him. His eyes darken, fingers gripping your hips tighter, as he continues his demonstrations on your poor little pussy.

“Yeah, yeah, good.” He breaths harshly against your thigh, barely able to contain himself as he assaults your cunt at a faster and more brutal pace. “Come for me, doll. C’mon, gimme your sweet cum.” Coryo encourages, though it’s not for you. It’s for him.

It’s all for him, in the end.

You come shrieking, sweat dripping down your face. It’s hot and messy and glorious, your saccharine juices exploding all over Coriolanus’s tongue and face. He’s soaked in your divine taste, giving him a buzz he never wants to come down from.

“Such a good girl,” he praises, kissing up your thighs, leaving little wet marks. His lips are red and swollen, coated in your juices, as he smiles up at you wickedly. You let out a heavy sigh, slumping tiredly against the mattress, not caring that your skin is sticky or that the mattress is now soaked. You’re too fucked out to notice or care, especially when you feel a hot tongue and slender fingers prodding at your pussy again.

“Just one more,” Coriolanus says with a saccharine soaked smile.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus smut #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow smut #coryo snow x reader #coriolanus x reader

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cranberryjuice-posts · 2 months

Text

- on the court -

Pairings - Clarisse La Rue x Fem! Reader

Synopsis - Clarisse underestimates you because of how feminine you are.

Most people assumed you just enjoyed makeup and nails and other shit like that. Which you did of course, you always made it a point to have your hair styled, your makeup done, your nails with a fresh coat of paint, and your lip combo was always on top.

Though there was something you liked more than makeup and all that. It was basketball.

Basketball was something you grew up with. Your parent helped introduce you to the sport and from there you only grew more fascinated with it. Joining your schools team every year and constantly going to games.

It had been your dream to go to college for basketball to!. At camp though you hadn’t really played. For some reason you never felt the draw to it which was in usual for you.

One night you couldn’t sleep. It was later but some kids were still up goofing off, mostly older campers. Throwing on a pink cropped hoodie that matched your juicy couture track suit.

Walking past the bonfire and the stoners you eventually made it to the court. Your Special place. When everything felt confusing and down basketball always brought you back.

Playing currently were some ares kids. One that caught your attention was clarisse. You both had been flirting back and forth for a while now, nothing to serious but serious enough that neither of you tried anything with anyone else.

Stepping onto the concrete slab you waited and watched as clarisse got her final shot for the game. As she made it with easy she turned around hearing your clapping.

Quickly she walked over, not wanting to seem rude. “Hey beautiful” she smiled leaning onto the sponge pad.

“Hi” you giggled.

“Come to watch me play?” She lightly flirted, every chance y’all got it was spent with light jabs at one another.

You shook your head “nah I’m here to play”

She just laughed not taking you serious. “Yeah? And how are you gonna play with your acrylics”

Clarisses Brother passed the ball over giving you the chance to steal it from her. “I guess we’ll see”

Your wide and cocky smile was the last thing clarisse saw before you practically dog walked her. Not giving her a chance to take the ball from you, making multiple shots from anywhere on the court and even when she had the ball you some how managed to take it back.

After the eighth score you looked back to see the once proud girl panting and embarrassed.

You walked over and smiled up at her. “What was That about me not being able to play?”

“Shut up” she scoffed with a mixture of annoyance and being flustered. That just made your smile become wider. “Someone’s mad”

“Am not” she quickly denied trying to act as though the entire one on one didn’t happen. You just rolled your eyes, planting a kiss on her cheek you shoved the ball back into her body.

“I’ll see you around La rue” her stunned face made you giggle while walking away, it was late enough.

#lesbian #wlw #clarisse la rue #clarisse pjo #clarisse x reader #percy jackson fanfiction #clarisse larue #clarisse my beloved #percy jackson show #pjo fandom #clarisse x female reader #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse x you

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worldlxvlys · 4 months

Note

hey! so can u do like a short little story of Chris (he’s ur bf in the story!) and y/n has a attitude at a party and Chris teaches y/n a lesson in a smutty way and like use toys and vibrators on y/n and cuddles at the end? <3 IF U FEEL COMFORTABLE WRITING THIS STORY! <3 tysm!! 💓💓🫶🏻🫶🏻

Attitude

chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: nsfw (if that makes you uncomfy pls don’t read) p in v, oral (female receiving), squirting, overstimulation

now i know i told y’all i don’t write, idk why y’all thought i was joking 😃 i tried tho so… enjoy <333

“Yeah we’re not fucking doing this. You’ve had an attitude all night long and i’m fucking sick of it” Chris says.

Suddenly, he grabs my arm and starts towards the stairs.

“Chris, where are we going?” I ask, obviously annoyed.

“I’m teaching you a fucking lesson”. Chris says as I follow him up the stairs.

I have no clue whose room this is but Chris seems to know as he goes behind the door and goes to pick up a small pink bag. Once he retrieves the bag, he slams the door shut and locks it.

“I don’t know where this little attitude came from, but I’m fucking sick of it” he growls.

He then pushes me up against the door and starts trailing kisses down my neck. Then, at an alarming speed, he pushes his lips onto mine. The kiss was hungry and rushed as his hands roamed my body. He squeezes my ass, causing me to gasp and he took the opportunity to explore my mouth with his tongue.

Then, pulling away, he brought the the pink bag back into view.

“I got a little surprise for you baby” Chris said as he pulled out two vibrators, one pink and the other purple.

“Just bought these baby, heard they’re pretty powerful. Guess we’re gonna find out” he whispered into my ear as he reached for the bottom of my dress.

“This ok baby?” he asked, looking for any sense of discomfort in my eyes.

“Always.” I answered with a smile.

He then pushed me onto the bed and pulled my dress up to my waist. He switched on the purple vibrator, putting it on the highest setting.

“Put this on your tits, do not move it.” he said as he passed it to me.

“Take it off and you’re not fucking cumming.” he growled.

Doing as he said, I placed the vibrator on my left nipple.

“Holy fuck Chris” he was right, it was really powerful.

He then started kissing up my thighs, closer and closer to where I needed him.

“Please don’t tease Chris” I whined.

“Hm maybe I would listen to you if you hadn’t acted like a little brat tonight” he said as he continued to leave teasing kisses around my heat.

Then, finally, he licked a stripe up my core.

“Jesus Christ” I moaned out as my hips involuntarily bucked up.

He then pushed them down, and proceeded to move his tongue through my folds relentlessly. He kept eating me out like his life depended on it.

“ FUCKKK CHRIS” the only sounds that could be heard were the slurping of Chris’s mouth on my wet pussy, the gentle hum of the vibrator on my nipple, and his name repeated over and over on my lips.

“Mmm. Taste so fucking good ma” Chris moaned into me, causing me to stumble over the edge.

Chris finally lifted his head up, my juices coating his face.

“Did that feel good ma?”

“Fuck yes Chris” I replied.

Then without warning, he shoved his fingers inside of me.

“C-Chris I can’t. Too sensitive” was all I could get out.

“Hm well brats don’t get to decide how many times they come, do they?” he asked.

“Gonna stretch you out baby, you gonna take me well like a good girl?”

I was so focused on his fingers filling my hole up so well, I couldn’t even answer.

Slap.

Chris hit my clit with the palm of my hand, making my hips jolt.

“Fucking answer me”

“Holy fuck Chris! Yes yes i’ll take you so well, gonna be your good girl” with that, he lined his cock up with my glistening hole.

“You know your safe word?”

“Yes Chris”

Suddenly, he started pounding into me at an ungodly pace.

“ FUCK FUCK FUCK CHRIS OH MY GOD”

“That’s right baby, let me hear you”

At this point, I had forgotten about the vibrator that had somehow ended up falling out of my hand.

Suddenly spotting it, he picked it up and switched it on.

“I told you not to move it didn’t I, princess?”

I couldn’t even respond at this point, the only thing coming out of my mouth was his name in choked out moans. As if his relentless pace wasn’t enough, he suddenly placed the vibrator directly onto my clit, causing me to cry out.

“OH M- CHRIS I CAN’T I CAN’T”

“Yes you can baby, lay there and fucking take it”

The pleasure was so intense, I started to tear up. My eyes rolled into the back of my head as an unfamiliar feeling came over me.

“CHRIS I THINK I’M G-”

“Cum for me baby, give it to me. Want my cock to be fucking drenched in your cum”

I let go, juices spilling onto the sheets and Chris’s lower half as he spilled his seed inside of me. Riding us through our highs, Chris started to slow his pace.

As Chris pulled out, I winced and watched our juices spill out of me.

“Holy fucking shit Chris that was amazing” I sighed as I flipped onto my back.

“Yeah yeah, don’t do that shit again though” he chuckled as he kissed my forehead.

“Eh, we’ll see.”

🌀🌀🌀🌀

y’all that was my first time actually writing a fic wtf… maybe i should just stick to texts and snaps fr

i really went for it huh😭

idk if this is good so uh… lmk

k bye <333

masterlist

tag list: @lovingsturniolo @lustfulslxt @gwenlore @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @chrissturnioloswifey

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo imagine #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo imagine #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut

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bunnyboyjuice · 4 months

Text

I saw this and immediately went Getou and his pink girlfriend Like i had to write for it immediately.

Getou knew you liked plushies. When you first let him into your room he noticed all the Sanrio plushies in an array of sizes decorating your bed and your bookshelf. He picked up on that immediately and would always surprise you with a new plushie on two. But he never really knew the names he would see “Cinnamoroll” or “Pompompurin” on some of the items you sent him he knew them by shape not by name.

That all changed when he saw you flipping some of them all over and placing some of them on the floor. “Why are you doing that baby?” He says chuckling at your actions. “Umm.. because I don’t want them to see us doing it.” You mumble embarrassed cleaning off your bed of your plushies.

Cute! Getou thought to himself as he ran his hand down your back giving your ass a playful smack before chuckling at you cleaning off your pink bed sheets and comforter so that your plushies don’t see y’all having sex.

Getou could feel himself throb with desire watching you bend over in that pink silk night gown as you turn your last plushie around.

“M’all done now.” You giggle feeling his large hands roaming over your body as Getou’s eyes trace your figure . “Finally I felt like I was waiting forever baby.” Getou said he grinded against you, his dick pressing into the fat of your ass his hands squeezing and fondling your curves eagerly.

“Lay down f’me baby lemme see that pretty face.” He says chuckling putting his dark curls up in a loose bun. His lidded eyes peering into yours as he smirks from above. His lips colliding against yours greedily as he pulled down your night gown revealing your pretty tits to him.

You can feel his warm breath tickling at your neck as he sets the pace. Getou’s mind running was rampant as he holds your hips thrusting into you slowly. His mind going hazy as he feels your tight walls clamping down on him. He loves the way you look up at him all cock drunk when you feel him thrust and hit that gummy spot making you whine and whimper, that fueled Getou even more making him pick up the pace his warm hands rubbing up your thighs as your pretty manicured nails rake down his back. “Fuuuuck baby y’re so good, fuck!” He groans thrusting into you deeper.

His hips colliding with yours as they stutter keeping an uneven pace. “Getou I can’t take it” You whine as he grabs the back of your thighs and holding your legs up to your chest, putting you in a mating press, “Yes you can baby your doing it right now.” He coos at you, your slick and his pre- mixing to make a filthy, sticky mess. He thrust into you cunt again watching your slick coat him as he sighs dreamily. His mind was already in the clouds as he felt you squeezing tightly around him. “Wanna cum..gonna cum Getou.” You hiccup feeling him deeper in your core.

You feel your body going hazy as you grip at the sheets your eyes fluttering as Getou is relentless with his pace as your sloppy pussy flutters around him more squeezing him for every last drop. “C’mon baby lemme see you cum m’kay you know how much I love watching it.” Getou lidded eyes stare into your glossy doe ones feeling the pressure bubble getting ready to pop your toes curl.

Your mind goes numb feeling Getou’s cock kiss that sweet spot again and again as he thrust watching you squirt drenching his cock. “There she is that’s my good girl.” He purrs at you feeling his cock twitch inside you. He slowed down his thrust lazily letting his hips roll feeling your legs quiver letting himself go shooting ropes of his warm seed into you.

————

Getou laided there with you letting you settle down rubbing your back up and down as he pressed kisses into your forehead.

“You did so good, so fuckin’ perfect baby.” He mumbled against your head as he presses more kisses. Getou looks over at one of the plushies in your bed and he gently picks it up admiring it. “Babe I have a question which plushie is this one they all look the..same to me.” He chuckles as he sees your head peek up to look at the one he was holding.

“That one’s Cinnamoroll he’s a dog and he has girlfriend named Mocha I think I have a plushie of her too but she might be in my bookshelf instead of on my bed.”

“Oh so they’re like a pair like us?” He says with a chuckle looking the Cinnamoroll plushie again.

“Yea they’re put together in a lot of the art I see of them so they could be a pair.” You murmur picking up another plushie.

“I think this one is like you a little bit.” It was a little devil plushie shaped like the Cinnamoroll plushie. “So it’s Cinnamoroll but evil?” He says gently placing the Cinnamoroll down and taking the newly inquired plushie in his hands.

“Well kinda his name is Berry and he has a pink friend named Cherry.” You told Getou as you got the pink plushie with bat wings. “See they’re kind of like us a little bit.”

Getou looks down at the pink plushie and smiles.

“Can I keep this one I promise I’ll keep it safe I’ll put it with my other plushie I got that reminds me off you.”

Your heart almost leaps out of your chest from how much love was stored in your little heart for him.

“Yea..you can keep him he’s all yours.” Your eyes flickered over to Getou admiring the plushie like it was the last thing on earth to Getou this plushie was now his new favorite thing from you besides all the other trinkets you got him.

Getou presses a soft kiss to your lips before pressing another kiss to your now assigned plushie counterpart.

“We’re always together no matter what isn’t that cute.” Getou mumbles pulling your closer to him kissing you on your nose.

A/n: yall I had to get this out because I have finals coming up which is so upsetting but I hope yall enjoy this silly thing I wrote. Also ignore my Sanrio knowledge about Cinnamoroll and Lloromannic…like this really got to me.

#jjk #jjk getou #getou x bimbo reader #black reader #getou x black reader #getou x reader #getou suguru #jujutsu kaisen geto #jjk geto #kota's brain #jjk smut #Getou x pink gf

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deanbrainrotwritings · 5 months

Text

— LINES OF YOUR HANDS

SUMMARY : dean tries being seductive in a Santa suit… and it works, surprisingly.

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), fluff, on the kitchen table, Santa suit kink, nude photography, breeding kink, jerking off, cum play

WORD COUNT : 2.3k

A/N : devil wears prada song title. @spnkinkevents : #12daysofspnkinkmas2023 — (Santa) suit kink and nude photography. this was cute to me, idk ‘bout y’all, like yeah, the sex, but Dean’s so cute in my imagination (and in the show). had clara oswald and danny pink in mind for this one, lmao XXX

“Merry Christmas, my love!” Dean exclaimed from the doorway of the kitchen. His girlfriend turned around, distractedly biting off the arm of a gingerbread man.

“You could’ve at least picked something sexy,” she snorted, turning away from him to bite the other arm of her gingerbread man. Dean pouted and made his way to her unenthusiastically.

“Well, guess what I’m wearing underneath,” he proposed excitedly with his hands on his hips. She didn’t turn around to look at him this time.

“Uh… your Scooby-Doo boxers?” She asked, grinning at the space in front of her before taking a bite of a gingerbread cookie’s leg. She knew that would make Dean whine more. “One of the hundred of black t-shirts you own, and uh… those ‘send noods’ socks, my fave,” she continued with a dreamy laugh. Dean sputtered.

“No,” he pouted adorably. She shrugged, mouth full, drinking warm coconut milk to help the cookie go down. Defeated, Dean’s frown deepened. “Nothing,” he whined, then stomped over to her, hoping she’d look at him. “Come on, admit it’s sexy,” he smiled cheekily, sitting on the table next to the small plate with crumbs and a gingerbread man that no longer had arms and legs.

She sighed playfully and then leaned back, eyes trailing from the top of his cute head to the bottom of his hot legs. She checked him out once more, contemplating his appearance: she stared at his thighs, the tent in the red, fluffy trousers, the tightness of the suit on him, the little bit of skin showing at his neck, the floppy red and white hat on top of his head.

She tried to give him what he wanted, to see the sexiness in his costume. But… she couldn’t help it, she smiled brightly at him. He was too damn adorable.

“Oh, come on!” He whined, then hastily undid the black belt around his waist, letting the coat fall open. She held her breath as she watched him, her eyes glued to his taut, hot body, and his warm, freckled skin. He bit his lip, and pulled his pants down to release his cock, and slowly started to jerk himself off.

That did it for her. Her stomach flipped and her pussy clenched, warmth spread over her face, her stomach, her cunt. She released a shaky breath as a wave of dampness ruined her underwear almost instantly.

Squeezing her thighs, she fumbled and checked her pockets for her phone to take a picture. Maybe a lot more than one. This was so hot and definitely worth being kept in the hidden photo album of explicit photos and videos of her and Dean.

When he saw it in her hands, he stopped touching himself and reached for the phone, but she snatched it away before he could snatch it away.

“Hey!” He complained. He thought she was going to ignore him and scroll through her phone instead.

“Shut up,” she grunted, which made his mouth shut instantly, “I’m trying to eat my gingerbread man and you want to seduce me… now deal with the fact that it worked.”

“You’re torturing the little man,” he stared down at the gingerbread man with an exaggerated frown. “But, hey, I ain’t complainin’ if you wanna take a few videos of me right now,” he grinned, going right back at it. “Did ya name him?” He asked, running his thumb over the tip of his leaking cock.

“Patrick,” she laughed softly, then stood up to find the perfect angle. It didn’t matter though, he looked good from all angles. She snapped a photo, kept tapping and tapping the red button to get as many as she could. Data storage be damned.

“Want some more frosting on Patrick?” He jested, but she was actually contemplating his offer. He cursed softly and watched her with hooded eyes.

She leaned down to collect the beads of precum at his tip with her tongue which made his body tense up, a loud moan erupting from his throat. She reached over and took a bite of her cookie, mixing the sweet and tangy flavour of her two favourite things. “Yummy,” she snickered, staring straight at Dean.

“Fuck,” he whispered, licking his lips.

“Maybe when you’ve got another load, you’re cumming inside me first.” She pushed her cup and the headless cookie to the far end of the table, close to the wall. “Fuck, actually… should I take a picture of you cumming on your hand first?” She stopped in the middle of lifting her shirt up, staring at him as he slowed the pace of his movements to stop his orgasm.

“No, later,” he decided for her, “please, get up here and ride me.” He begged, then shifted on the table to lie on his back, aware of the plate and cup she pushed against the wall when he placed the Santa hat with them. She snickered and lifted the top over her head. She wore no bra this morning and the sight of her breasts made him moan softly.

“Comfortable?” She asked, kicking her slippers off and then slid her leggings and underwear down in one swift pull.

“Just get up here,” he told her impatiently, reaching down to tug at his balls instead of jerking himself off. She laughed again and did as he asked. She climbed up the chair, made her way onto the table, and then sat on his lap, taking his hard cock in her hand.

“How are you making this work?” She teased, biting her lip, slowly stroking from base to tip. He instantly grabbed her hips, his red lips parted to release quick breaths as he brought her forward over his erect cock.

He shrugged, biting his lip and smiling cutely. “Please,” he begged again, urging her to take him. She playfully, teased her entrance with the tip of his cock, and stared down at him mischievously.

“Sam’s gonna get mad that we fucked on the table.” He knew she was stalling on purpose, getting him riled up. Her intentions were clearer when she reached for her phone again, and took a couple photos of his cock in her hand.

She stopped stroking his cock to focus on taking more photos. It frustrated him and he groaned, reaching between her legs. While she treated him like a sex model, leaning back in his lap to capture him at the best angle with her phone, he separated her folds and brushed his thumb against her clit.

His cock twitched when he brought two of his fingers to her entrance and an insane amount of slick met his fingertips. “Wow, it’s really workin’,” he chuckled, smiling up at her smugly. She rolled her eyes, lips parting when he pushed two fingers into her, meeting no resistance. “Please tell me you’re done, I wanna be inside you and feel all of this… wrapped around my dick,” he mumbled, pushing a third finger into her, then spread them apart inside her.

“Oh… fuck, Dean!” She moaned in surprise. Her phone tumbled out of her hand and rattled on the floor, but it didn’t break. She slammed both hands on his chest as her thighs shook on either side of his body as his fingers curled against the front of her walls.

“It’s Santa now,” he teased, pulling his soaked fingers out of her fluttering pussy to wrap it around his cock. She barely composed herself when he bucked his hips upwards, thrusting his cock into her swiftly.

She cried out again and buried her face into his neck, making a tight fist with both hands clenching around the red and white Santa jacket he wore. She moaned softly when he rolled his hips gently, soothing the amazing stretch of her cunt around him.

“Shit.. that was way too easy, babe,” he gasped, giving her ass a gentle swat. “You okay?” He murmured, kissing her temple. She nodded, her pussy fluttering needily around his cock. “Well…” he paused for a moment, reaching up to move her hair to one side, then lifted her mouth up to his. “What do you want for Christmas, sweetheart?” He mumbled against her lips, giving her a few loving pecks.

She kissed him lewdly, licking across his sugary lips and into his minty mouth with a hum. With a smirk, she replied, “a baby.”

His grip on her hair tightened and his cock twitched inside her. He pulled her off him with a sharp tug of her hair and stared at her face, stunned and aroused. “Don’t ask for something if you’re not serious about it…” he murmured, planting his black-leather-boot clad feet on the table.

“Who said I wasn’t serious?” She asked, placing her arm beside his head and laying her palm flat over his toned stomach.

“That shit-eating grin on your fuckable face.” Before she could get out a reply, Dean began to piston his hips up into her, clasping both hands on her hips roughly to keep her from moving.

With a surprised moan she pressed her forehead into her arm and wrapped her hand around one of Dean’s wrists, above his watch.

She panted heavily into his ear, occasionally moaning encouragements that made him fuck her harder. Her clit slapped delightfully against his pelvis with each thrust and upward grind. He focused on chasing her pleasure more than his own, angling her hips so he could press his cock into the front of her pussy, brushing repeatedly over her sweet spots.

“You want a baby?” He asked breathlessly, cock throbbing inside her velvety walls. He could feel her getting as close to her orgasm as he was, and continued to grind up against her after every thrust to stimulate her clit. “I’ll give you a baby,” he growled, latching his lips to her pulse.

With a sharp thrust and a hard bite, he came inside her with a grunt of her name against her neck. Hot cum pooled inside her and triggered her own orgasm. With a shuddering moan of Dean’s name, she took Dean's face lovingly into her hands and kissed him as he helped her ride out her orgasm.

Her kiss-swollen lips moved across his jaw, down his flushed neck and chest as they attempted to catch their breaths. Dean pulled her closer, his warm hands squeezing his favourite parts of her body that he could reach. Barely having caught their breaths, he mumbled, “I believe you need to let me eat your cookie now that I’ve delivered your gift. Santa’s gotta get a reward,” against her flushed cheek.

She moved away from his mouth and lifted a brow at the playful grin he gave her. “Do not call my vagina a cookie ever again,” she giggled, pushing up off his chest. Except he pulled her back down with his fingers around the back of her neck to peck her lips, once, then twice.

“Babe, please, I’m trying to be in the Christmas spirit,” he reasoned playfully with a nod, dimples on display with his puckered lips. He slid his hands down the curve of her back and stopped just shy of her ass, calloused hands caressing her soft skin.

She eyed him suspiciously and then dropped a lingering kiss on his forehead for cuteness. “Okay, I’ll let it slide… this time,” she smiled, then dropped doting kisses over his cheeks and nose.

“Right, but you have no problem with me referring to myself as Santa, hmm?” He muttered, feigning disappointment. Mischievously, she stopped her kisses before she could get to his mouth, hovering over his lips after kissing the corner of his mouth.

She pulled away as he waited for her kiss with a very subtle pucker of his lips and then, he had the audacity to pout again. “Be happy that I fucked you in this ridiculous costume at all,” she frowned, but her bright and amused eyes betrayed her serious face.

“This costume is not ridiculous, okay? You’re ridiculous…” he scoffed, moving his hands away from her hips to cross them over his chest defensively.

She bit back a smile and slid off his soft dick, which made him reach out for her to return with his lips parted to ask her to come back. Instead, she took his hands to balance herself as she climbed off the table and took her phone off the floor, his cum already starting to dribble out of her pussy.

She squeezed her legs together as she unlocked her cellphone to study the photos she took of Dean. “I’m gonna get these framed… or.. I’m making my own porn magazine with photos of you naked.. yeah, that’s a great idea,” she spoke to herself thoughtfully.

Dean blindly grabbed for the Santa hat, lifted his pants up, and slid off the table to wrap his arms around his naked girlfriend. He put the hat back on and dropped his chin on her shoulder to gaze at her phone.

“Only if you do the same for me,” he proposed bashfully, then slowly started moving his hands down between her legs. She smiled and parted her legs for him, but she didn’t expect him to send a slap over her sensitive clit.

He must have expected her reaction because he released her immediately and backed away when she jumped with a shout and turned to face him swiftly. She glared at him and walked towards him until the metal counter hit his back.

He licked his lip, trying to lean casually against the counter with his green eyes shining bright like shiny ornaments on a Christmas tree. He swallowed excitedly and smiled at her flirtatiously—that stupid smile he gave women when he tried picking them up or to get information out of them.

“I’m tying you up with the Christmas lights for that,” she threatened seductively, pressing herself up against his taut body. He bit his lip and carefully moved his hands to her ass to keep her close, then squeezed.

“Really?”

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#dean x female!reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester #12daysofspnkinkmas2023

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ericscroptop · 25 days

Text

34 + 35

・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・

✧ pairing: bf! eric x gf! reader

✦ genre: smut

✧ warnings: 18+ (minors DNI), smut, p!rn without plot, mentions of food and eating, cursing, 69 position, oral, female receiving, male receiving, fingering, fondling, spit & drool, lots of tongue, dirty talk, praising, pet names, kissing, a bit of aftercare

✦ word count: 3.8k words

✧ synopsis: you’re hungry for ice cream and offer eric some, but he has a different kind of dessert in mind.

✦ note: hope y’all enjoy this as much as i did, hehe <3

˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚. ˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚. ˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚. ˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.

“Do you want one?”

“Nah, no thanks!”

You close the freezer and find the trash can, stepping on the steel pedal to open the lid and dispose of your ice cream wrapper.

Walking away from the kitchen, you trail towards the living room and plop yourself on the sofa that your boyfriend was already cozy on.

You park your body on the open space to the left of Eric, deciding to sit horizontally with your back leaning against the armrest, and you prop your feet and legs over his thighs.

His eyes are glued to the television in front, watching a k-drama that was you guys’ favorite show to watch at the moment when you had free time before bed.

As soon as you get comfortable, you begin to indulge in your sweet treat.

Your ice cream of choice was a Drumstick vanilla-sundae ice cream cone. You bite at the roasted peanuts and chocolatey coating, enjoying the cone while Eric was going off about some character you two equally despised.

You listen to him and giggle, adding your own commentary in between bites.

Currently, that character you both loathe appears on screen, so you let free a groan in annoyance and a string of not-so-nice words in seeing their face and antics.

Eric laughs at how passionate you are at being a certified hater, and he takes his gaze away from the show to glance at you.

You have reached the vanilla ice cream in your cone, so you start to lick at it to scoop it out and coat your tongue in the creamy goodness.

Personally, you find it satisfying feeling your tongue push the cream around inside the waffle cone. You let your tongue gather enough cream to your liking and licked it out, allowing it to melt in your mouth. Your teeth then bite at the cone and eat it slowly, making it a tad smaller. Then, you’d repeat this process once again.

The corners of Eric’s mouth fall and his lips part slightly, enthralled at the movement of your tongue on your ice cream.

Suddenly the view of you licking your ice cream is much more interesting than the k-drama playing.

He can’t help but eye you curiously. The way your tongue works around the cream has his mind comparing it to the way you’d lick at his own shaft when going down on him.

Even though you’re doing something as mundane as eating, he finds your actions erotic. His mouth is beginning to salivate in watching you, craving for your tongue’s attention to be centered on his cock instead.

He tries not to shift in his spot as your legs are draped over his thighs and he doesn’t want to disturb you. Though, his senses are beginning to heighten, and he can feel blood deploying to his cock and brain.

You’re mindlessly eating your dessert, not noticing your boyfriend’s hungry eyes trained on you.

At least, not until Eric deeply sucks in a breath in seeing your thick, pink tongue attempt at squeezing in the small hole of the little end-bit of the Drumstick. That did it for him.

At the sound, you raise your brows and turn your head right, looking at him in interest while simultaneously stuffing the end-bit of the cone in your mouth.

“What? Don’t tell me you wanted a bite— I asked if you wanted one.” you tell him with a full mouth, hand a couple centimeters away from your lips as you spoke while chewing.

He probably wanted a taste of your ice cream, you thought. Eric always says food tastes better when it’s yours.

Which, probably means he just likes sharing saliva, but whatever— you never minded. You’d happily give him a taste if he asked. He always did the same for you. You just liked to tease him about it.

But this time, Eric isn’t huffing for the reason that you think.

He averts his eyes from you, beginning to busy himself in caressing your ankles while he trained his eyes back to the TV.

Your eyes follow to your legs over his thighs, watching as his fingers moved gently over your skin.

Your pupils then notice the outline of Eric’s cock bulging through his grey sweatpants, letting a quiet gasp free once you process it.

Your boyfriend’s ears perk at that and he looks back at you, then to his lap, and he sheepishly smiles, feeling embarrassed at you having caught his boner.

“I couldn’t help it…. you just looked so pretty licking that ice cream.” he whines, eyes apologetic.

You look at him in awe, fighting back from letting out a chuckle at how dirty-minded Eric was. I mean, you sometimes are, too. And it doesn’t take much for you to become sexually aroused from your boyfriend. But it still catches you by surprise that he has a hard-on from watching you merely eat.

You remove your legs from his thighs and sit upright, then shift closer so that you’re sitting closely next to him.

“Dirty boy.” your breath fans over his face as you spoke, your words and proximity causing the tips of his ears to heat up and go red.

You cheekily grin, then lean into his cheek to press a loving kiss against it.

Eric eyes you with desire as you draw back after. Craving for those supple lips of yours to wrap around his aching cock, and is feeling ravenous for your pussy.

He was a bit flustered in being unable to hide his abrupt horniness at you innocently enjoying your treat, but he’s not gonna back down in satisfying his craving.

“Wanna have more dessert together? We can eat in the bedroom.” he speaks lowly, all suggestive and with a smirk.

It is now you who starts to feel hot in hearing his suggestion, mood changed and k-drama way past forgotten. You press your thighs instinctively together, liking the sound of that.

Eric notices and wets his lips with his tongue, smirk still prevalent on his face as he’s made you needy now, too.

He doesn’t hesitate in grabbing the remote and turning off the screen. Getting off the couch and now standing, he extends an arm down in front of you. You blush as you take his hand, and he pulls you up, interlocking your fingers with his own.

Without any words, you two walk to your shared bedroom, smiles beaming on each of your faces as you walked with hands intertwined to perform some raunchy activity.

When you guys make it to the bedroom, Eric immediately reaches over his head, grabbing the upper back of his shirt, and pulls it over his head effortlessly.

The sight of his naked torso alone is enough to make your pussy pulse. You take in the sight of his abdominal muscles and toned arms— of which, you swear have gotten just a tad bigger lately. Him working out almost every day is really evident.

It’s taking a lot right now to not jump at his bones and feverishly start licking up his chest. You bite back comments that would feed his ego and make it skyrocket, because although he is your boyfriend, you should play it cool for now.

But you know he’ll be bragging and teasing later to you how your body withers for him, and how his actions can make you easily go dumb and come undone.

Eric has taken a seat on the end of the bed as you remove your top and bottoms, leaving you in your panties. You hear him whistle like a cheeky bastard when he sees the soft flesh of your breasts bounce and the bottom of your butt cheeks peeking from the fabric.

“Stopppp,” you playfully draw out, grinning like an idiot and cheeks turning crimson at his reaction.

Your small hands cup your boobs, massaging the skin and rubbing along your tender nipples as you watch your boyfriend smoldering at you while he removes his sweats.

Goosebumps appear on your skin in a flash, aroused to discover that he went commando today. His cock immediately sprung up from his sweats as he removed and tossed them to the side.

His right hand grabs hold of it, running his fingers along his shaft as he leans backwards, letting his back hit the bed sheets and he moans at his own movements.

“Want you on top of me— backwards, please.” he practically begs, legs stretched out in front of him, slightly splayed over the bed.

A whimper escapes your throat at his open neediness, making it feel like there’s a heartbeat in your cunt.

You register that he wants you backwards on top, meaning he wants to 69. A position that you guys didn’t frequent, but Eric enjoyed it so much.

He loved the idea of pleasing each other at the same time, fulfilling both of your hungry oral desires without waiting for one another’s turn.

It was so vulnerable, intimate, and lewd— which is why Eric found it so salacious.

You honestly did like it, too. But sometimes it was a bit overwhelming and easy to be dazed from his pussy-eating skills and attention while you’re trying to focus on his cock. You also were shy in having your entire ass in his face and body on top of him, but he always assured you that it was easier that way, and he loved it. He wanted you like that.

You walked closer to him and approached the side of the bed, leaning close enough to bring a hand to his face and caress his cheek. You soaked in every part of his face for a moment, since you’d be facing away from him in a minute or so. You couldn’t resist in bringing your lips down to kiss his own velvety ones, burning in desire all throughout as they moved delicately with yours.

You swallowed and let out a shaky breath as you pulled back, beginning to play with the hem of your panties out of anticipation.

“Take them off.” he rasps, looking at you with utter desperation.

You follow his order, pulling your underwear down and stepping out of the fabric without anymore delay.

You finally get on the bed, crawling over his body and bring your face close to his genitals. You take time in positioning yourself as comfortably as you can possibly get on either side of his shoulders.

Both of your hands grip onto his thighs, eyeing his throbbing cock in need. Your thighs are shut over Eric, squeezing them together at how horny you were.

He fixes that instantly though, pulling them apart and is greeted by the perfect view of your sex.

“There she is.” he whispers, making every fiber of your body flutter at those three words.

“Be a good girl for me and try not to squirm or jerk away this time, okay?” he says, pressing feathery kisses along the inner part of your thighs.

“Mhmm” is all he can get out of you at that. His mouth or touch hasn’t even reached your cunt yet, and you’re already melting away.

He finally greets your pussy, fingers making contact against your folds and rubbing carefully along them. A gasp releases from you as the pads of his fingers play with the outside of your cunt.

His lips suddenly attach to your sex, kissing your pussy slowly to start off, eventually building up to practically making out with your lips and his kisses become more intense.

Your eyes are practically glued shut, high off the feeling of Eric simply touching you with his fingers and lips on the most intimate part of your body. No matter how many times he touched you, you’d always be weak to it as if it was the first time.

“You like when I kiss you here, don’t you?” he puffs out, then goes back to attaching his mouth to your sex, letting his tongue slip out and he begins licking you.

“Fuck— Eric!”

“Don’t forget to touch me too, pretty. Wanna feel those pretty lips around me.”

Your brows were slightly furrowed, too focused on the pleasurable attention Eric’s giving you right now. Way too focused that you forgot that this position was meant to be a two-way street.

You swallowed, looking at his red tip, whole-hard cock aching to be taken care of.

“Mhm— s’ry. Gonna make it all better, baby.” you breathe out.

You begin to bubble up together a decent amount of saliva in your mouth, then spit onto your dominant hand, using it as lubricant for Eric’s cock.

Your fingers and palm then wrap carefully around his shaft, starting off with slow, soft strokes. Eric groans into your pussy at you finally touching him, making you smile in satisfaction.

You give his tip a tender kiss before licking circles around his cock head, allowing your tongue to dance around and toy with his slit.

“Fuck, baby! You’re such a damn tease.” he growls out.

You continue to lick further down his shaft, swirling painfully slow along the long veins that decorate his cock and on the underside, adding just a tiny bit more pressure from your fat tongue, just the way he likes.

Needy noises from Eric start to become more frequent from your actions, and he takes it upon himself to finally amp it up a bit more as he takes an index finger and sticks it in his mouth. His own saliva coats it and without warning, he inserts it inside of you.

Moans tumble out of you from the feeling, and he doesn’t even give you at least a minute to think more about it before he adds a second finger, causing you to whine at the stretch and girth of them inside you.

“You love my fingers, huh? Always take them s’ well. Atta’ girl.” he coos.

With that stretch from his fingers in you, it provides more access to your cunt for him. His tongue inserts between your pussy lips and he begins to lick you more.

Eric feels the smooth, rounded edges of your opening as he slips it inside. He slips his tongue in and out hungrily, feeling your slippery walls firmly in doing so.

He feels carnal and lascivious as he eats you like a starved man. Hungry for your warm pussy. Hungry to show love and attention to the most vulnerable part of your body. Hungry to please you— his pretty girl.

You can’t help but mewl in feeling those thick fingers of his fucking around inside you. His mouth reaching different avenues of your cunt also is driving you closer and closer to the edge, knowing that you’ll fall apart eventually.

You shake your head and redirect your focus to his cock, not hesitating in rubbing his cock head over your lips, groaning as you smeared his wet tip mixed in your saliva and his precum over them. They part after a few seconds and you take some of Eric’s length in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you bobbed your head rhythmically.

You focused on providing long, deep strokes with maximum suction on each up stroke, humming in pleasure at the fullness of his girthy cock moving in your mouth.

Eric’s panting at your warm mouth fucking him just right and from devouring you up, driving him insane.

Your hand jacks off what you can’t fit, coating itself in the wetness you two have made from the mixture of your body fluids. Eventually, your hand reaches out to his balls, petting and caressing carefully the delicate sack.

“Mmph! Y/n…” Eric whimpers, making you clench around his fingers at his whining. He knows he’s so close, and so he’s even more passionate in eating you out, the tip of his nose pressing into your clit, gently brushing over your sensitive bud.

You remove your mouth from his cock in an instant, chest heaving and eyes rolling back.

The feeling of his nose on your clit is like pure euphoria to you. Eric’s nose was so prominent and sharp. It was arguably one of his best features you’d say, and so his nose combined with your clit was like living on cloud nine.

Unthinkingly, your hips rocked, grinding your cunt into his mouth. Your body was greedy in wanting more of his face on your sex, specifically towards your swollen clit.

Eric chuckles lowly to himself at you wanting to face-fuck him. “My greedy girl wants more?” he takes advantage of this position and spanks your ass cheek, a loud gasp leaving your mouth as a result from the sting mixed with pleasure.

He begins to squeeze your hips, holding you securely. The tip of his nose presses into your clit, gently rubbing it over your sensitive bud and drawing small circles around it. It’s perfectly shaped to apply pressure, as well as on your inner lips.

Although the stimulation is making you weaker and weaker by the minute, you attach your mouth back onto Eric’s cock, going back to blowing him and slurping up his length as best as you can.

Your hand jacks him off sloppily, and your movements start to become messy from how wet and slippery his entire length, your hand, and mouth is. Saliva is beginning to pool out from the corners of your lips, making you feel full from drowning in his cock.

Your pussy vibrates from Eric groaning into it due to the pretty noises releasing from your throat and how beyond wet your hot mouth is.

He starts bucking his hips into your mouth and you gag at his sudden movements while his body is full of tension, a blast of pleasure that travels from his head to his toes.

It’s driving him to the brink of madness from your lecherous noises, actions, and your heated bottom in his face. He can also feel your fleshy breasts and hard nipples resting over his abdomen.

It is a cornucopia of pleasurable sensation for him, and so you feel him throb inside your mouth, signaling that his climax is approaching.

His breathing is becoming more ragged and his moans get higher and higher pitched as he gets closer. He mumbles incoherent things into your cunt, head spinning and lost in lust while his release spurts out.

His cock pulsates while his thick cum squirts into your mouth, making you both fill the room with repeated moans and other noises.

His load hits your tongue, the inside of your cheeks, and the back of your throat, tasting slightly sweet as you swallow all the cream he has to offer.

Eric knows you’re close too, and only gives himself a few seconds to recover from orgasm before he gives maximum attention to your cunt again. His tongue presses down experimentally on your clit before his balmy, wet lips take it and start sucking on it eagerly.

“Eric— baby!” you pulled his sensitive cock away from you mouth and moaned, feeling like sobbing when he sticks his fingers inside you again simultaneously, and slides them easily in and out of you.

He’s so carnal, sucking, eating, and playing with you like there’s no tomorrow. Although you can’t see how fucked out your lover is, you can feel his devotion and desire for you as he eats you out.

His fervor shatters any remaining control you have over your body, and you’re trembling and writhing on top of him, making you whimper at the feeling of losing control and your genital muscles beginning to contract.

“Let it all out, baby. You can cum for me. I want it so bad.” he babbles into your folds, making you do exactly what he says and cum all over his face.

“Fuckkkk,” your voice wavered, involuntarily shaking from reaching your climax, feeling as if you’re cross-faded and gone in the brain.

Eric grunts as he begins to slurp at your bits, lathering his tongue and mouth in all your juices.

Your pussy is now overly-past sensitive now, and you practically cry out, desperately attempting in looking back at Eric, but your ass covers any sign of him, and his face is hidden in drowning in your pussy.

“Eric!” you whine and draw out his name, raising his attention as he removes his face from your sex and breathes in heavily.

You remove yourself off him and turn around immediately, looking at him with a fucked-out gaze. You meet his own heavy lidded eyes, along with a combination of your vagina secretions and his own drool coating his face from the nose down.

Your teeth can’t help but tug on your bottom lip at the sight, finding your boyfriend so fucking hot and feeling like you’re gonna melt into a puddle after finally seeing his face.

He still continues to catch his breath, chest rising and falling as he wipes his chin. “C’mere,” he murmurs breathlessly, arms open, ready to embrace you.

You inch closer towards him and let him welcome you into his arms. Eric holds you tightly while he falls backwards on his back, and then shifts you two sideways on the bed with you still secure within his hold.

You cuddle each other, your face nuzzled into his neck/shoulder, inhaling his scent while he caresses your back, helping your mind and body adjust to the feelings of post-sex.

“You did so well.”

“Always such a good girl for me.”

“I love you— so much, pretty.”

You pull your face away from hiding, looking at him with smiling eyes and fluttering lashes, bringing a hand of yours to brush away some loose strands of slightly-damp hair from his forehead.

“I love you too, Eric.”

He eyes your lips for a moment before he meets them with his own, sticky juices coating your lips while kissing passionately. Eric groans, fucking loving the way you could probably taste yourself on him and thinking about how you had your mouth on his manhood earlier— and swallowed all of his creamy seed.

You guys continue to peck each other’s faces. Eyes, nose, cheeks, and lips, giggling and rolling around in bed.

“My handsome boy.” you suddenly say, lost for a moment as you stare at your lover’s features and soak it all in. Looking at Eric never got old, his beauty always caught you by surprise as if you have never seen his face before. You could stare at him all day.

He chuckles shyly, cheeks growing warm at your comment and fondness for him.

“You’re such a cutie.” you giggle at him, and he just smiles, adoring how soft and cute you get after sex. You were his pretty baby. And always would be.

“Can’t argue with that.” he replies, smirking as he kisses the top of your head.

“Let’s sleep now, hmm?” he whispers.

You sigh happily, exhausted and ready to fall asleep in Eric’s arms after some good sex.

You two get ready for bed, and sleep soundly that night knowing that you belong to each other.

And you each wouldn’t want or have it any other way.

˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚. ˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚. ˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚. ˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.

175 notes · View notes

the-floral-perspective · 3 months

Text

Look headcannons | Creepypasta + mood boards!

This includes style and how I imagine their normal fits in this modern day. Also like race n whatnot.

Also, their everyday outfit is what they wear to kill their assignments! Their general aesthetics is like stuff they wear around the house or when they buy groceries or smthing. I’m sorry if I generally describe them the same way, but I promise how I vision them is different. Once I learn to draw it’s literally over for y’all.

Their everyday outfits are typically similar and nothing like their general aesthetic because of convenience reasons.

I don’t ever follow cannon so please don’t hate! Also don’t take the bodies too seriously! Y’all are beautiful just the way you are.

Jeff the killer

Face: triangle shaped face, slightly upturned nose with a slight curve from breaking his nose, hooded bright blue eyes, sharp jawline, thin lips. Unhealed but healing mouth scars, slightly discolored blotchy skin and unusually wide eyes. Wears guyliner. His mouth scars are like wide open btw. Super thin eyebrows tbh.

Physic: he’s got some boob, 5’11. Wide shoulders, a lil toned, but he’s got some squish. He’s got some MADDDD cake. His legs are hella muscular too.

General Aesthetic: lazy edge lord. Sweatpants, band tshirts, converse, slides. BLACK CROCS. Kinda pink sometimes tho, but that’s only cuz of Ben’s influence. He’s got a crazy collection of pajama pants tho (he has my kuromi pants from a secret Santa gift)

Everyday outfit: black ripped skinny jeans, black hoodie with a black turtleneck underneath. Wears some nice earrings tho and has an eyebrow piercing. Has a similar strap to EJ, but just on his thigh, it carries his knife and money. So yes he has a thigh strap.

Jane the Killer

Face: oval shaped face, bow shaped lips, high cheekbones, dark brown upturned eyes, upturned nose. Skin is a little patchy from the past burns, otherwise she is almost fully healed due to Slenders help. Has slight gashes on her cheeks but they’re mostly closed. Thicc arched eyebrows.

Physic: pear shaped, more booty than her chest. 5’8, seems a lot taller. A bit bony, long armed and long legged. A little toned, tho her arms especially, she’s got some DEFINEEED arms.

General Aesthetic: elegant lady going to the art museum. Wears a lot of longer pleated skirts (either knee length or longer), long silk dresses, heels, occasional converse. Shirts are form fitting and typically elegant or professional. Loves silk, satin fabrics and the occasional velvet.

Everyday outfit: a black sleeveless turtleneck with black flared pants and black fingerless gloves. When it gets really cold she wears a dark red coat with grey fur on the lining. Has a thigh strap and a chest strap to carry her weapons.

Ben Drowned

Face: heart shaped face, male button nose, small lips, completely black eyes with blood running down them. Pale skin and hella sharp cheekbones. Sharp ass jaw too.

Physic: 5’9. Broad shoulders, a little scrawny. Defined chest and shoulders, his stomach hella toned, he doesn’t got much cake but a barely adequate one. No boobs for this guy either. No honka honka for him :(

General Aesthetic: a lil punk and a lil basic. Like he wears a lot of plaid and also a lot of baggy band tshirts, so not really but sort of. He’s got the emo hair, he wears green plaid skinny jeans with a graphic tshirt and black combat boots a lot. Or converse. He’s got a lot of facial piercings too. So he’s just barely punk. He’s getting there tho.

Everyday outfit: a light green baggy tunic that kinda has a deep V 😏 and some black baggy pants that the tunic is tucked into. His shoes are black combat boots. Across his waist he wears a brown leather belt that has a small compartment on his hip where he can put his shit in.

Clockwork

Face: downturned lips, tan skin, a clock for an eye. Her other eye is monoloid shaped tho and brown. Hair is dark brown and messy straight. Button nose definitely.

Physic: pretty boxy and muscular. 5’11. She doesn’t have much boob or butt since she’s so muscular. There is a slight contrast between her chest and her stomach, but not that much. She’s defined and toned.

General Aesthetic: it switches everyday. Sometimes she’s pretty tomboy and other times she’s 2000 emo. She wears converse, short shorts, low waisted pants that have the bedazzled butt pockets, cropped tshirts and tank tops. So maybe 2000s party girl?

Everyday outfit: black zip up hoodie with fur lining the neck, lowrise dark blue bootcut jeans, dark red tank top. Brown ankle boots.

Ticci Toby

Face: male version of a button nose, diamond shaped face, bow shaped lips, multiple face piercings (snakebites, eyebrow piercing), slight stache on his chin and above his mouth (he shaves). Fluffy brown hair. The gash on his mouth is basically healed. Very very pale skin, pretty hazel eyes u could get lost in forever. Average brown eyebrows.

Physic: almost concerningly skinny, like he just barely makes the mark of being healthy. It’s cause he forgets to eat. 6’1. His shoulders are broad but he’s like a triangle if anything. Not much cake :(

General Aesthetic: boring white boy. Nowadays he only wears turtlenecks and tank tops with some boring ass pants. Tho they are tight on him 😏 he left behind his old hoodie habit. He picked up motorcycling gloves and vans.

Everyday outfit: a black, long sleeved, form fitted turtleneck with a black back harness for his axe’s. Black skinny jeans and converse for convenience. He still wears his goggles and face mask!

Judge Angels

Face: triangle shaped face, her chin has a prominent point. Almond shaped black eyes, heart shaped lips. Olive toned skin, pretty tan. Has a prominent crack on her left canine tooth. Upturned nose, crooked smile. Blond straight hair that greatly contrasts her skin. Blond short eyebrows.

Physic: short and petite, 5’2. Lean, doesn’t really have much muscle, or at least doesn’t look it. Pretty flat chested and a normal ass. She has calves of steal tho.

General Aesthetic: white and messy, likes baggier clothing and more trashy punk looks. Like she wears Tripp pants, oversized tshirts, big hoodies. She doesn’t really wear makeup except for some shittily done eyeliner. Her hair is still blond but now it has the occasional black streak.

Everyday outfit: one of those baggy tops that have the cuts down the sides yk what I’m talking about? Anyways it’s white with a bunch of charcoal on it that she stole from Bloody painter. For bottoms she wears black knee high combat boots and a pair of black, low waisted, wide leg shorts. Obviously under the shirt she has a sports bra. She also wears fishnet gloves.

Puppeteer

Face: Grecian nose, dark gray skin, almond shaped yellow eyes, a square shaped face, medium lips. I think his teeth are hella white tbh but he’s definitely got fangs of some sort. Thicc black brows.

Physic: pretty boxy, like he’s lean n all, but he is kinda straight up and down. Average cake, average waist, average muscle and tone. He’s still hawt tho, his hands 😩 6’3

General Aesthetic: helluva boss reject. Wears trench coats and boots and skinny jeans, business pants. The occasional hoodie. Doesn’t wear a beanie anymore. Or converse. Tho his wardrobe has lots of skulls. He kinda does a 360 with his wardrobe, going for more of an old school pirate vibe.

Everyday outfit: wears a long black trench coat that clips in the middle of his waist, black skinny pants, below the knee black boots, black button up (the last three buttons unbuttoned) are underneath his trench coat.

Nurse Ann

Face: diamond shaped face, button nose, mid/weaker jawline, thiccer lips, not a prominent cupids bow. Definitely pale/Greyish skin tone. Her hair is brown and is like boob length, also somewhat wavy.

Physic: curvy, kind of apple/pear shaped. She’s definitely well endowed with the bewbs and butt, has a more rounded stomach too, has thicc thighs and calves as well. 5’4.

General Aesthetic: fantasia 2000 princess type beat. I feel like she’s a huge fan of midnight blue and fantasy type of outfits. She loves dresses of any length with frill, lace and intricate designs. She loves puffy/billowed sleeves and mostly wears flats or boot heels. She’s also particular about silver star/moon designs.

Everyday outfit: I don’t think her outfit changed at all tbh, I think she still wears the black nurse costume and hat, tho I do think she’s added more weapons in her collection. I think she’s started focusing on needles and chemical injecting, tho she still uses her iconic chainsaw.

Bloody Painter

Face: oval shaped face, thin lips, bright blue almond shaped eyes, Grecian nose, a lil tan ngl, black messy hair (idk how to describe his haircut tho, it’s a lil long, straight and fluffy??)

Physic: kind of in the average or boney ratio. He has bony hands and forearms but aside from that he’s got medium sized shoulders and a slightly smaller waist. Ngl I feel like he does have some random curve at the bottom so some honka cake, but not much. 5’11

General Aesthetic: painter in despair. I think he likes Jean jackets, he’s like the male version of arthoe. He likes black/blue jeans, kinda looks like he came from the outsiders, wears baggy leather jackets too. Mostly sticks with tshirts with random bull on it. Also always has a brown satchel with him.

Everyday outfit: I feel like black cargo pants, black turtleneck and a black chest harness, probably combat boots too. On his chest he still has the smiley pin, but aside from that, for his assignments he goes pretty neutral and just for convenience. EJ totally helped him pick out his outfit too his first assignment.

Rouge

Face: square shaped face, upturned nose, chubby cheeks, vintage shaped lips?? Idk how to describe it. I feel like her hair is a messy black Bob now, but like pretty messy I mean it. Kinda tan. Definitely has freckles.

Physic: 5’7, pretty boxy. The best I can describe her is like Audrey Hepburn built. Idk why I feel like her and A.H are so similar. She’s boney and relatively small like that.

General Aesthetic: a little vintage sometimes, like she switches decades a lot. She wears fashion trends from the 1950s to modern day, both feminine and masculine styles. So she wears dresses, miniskirts, jeans, colored turtlenecks. Really her closet is very alive. She has stolen from her assignments hella tho ngl.

Everyday outfit: a black miniskirt with a tighter grey turtleneck, red tights, black calf length boots. When it’s cold she has a cropped jacket with a fuzzy hood and insides.

Masky

Face: oval shaped face, tan skin, dark brown hair (short and messy,) dark brown eyes, uhhh mid-somewhat sharp jawline, straight nose.

Physic: strong, average short 5’9. Builds more bulk, has strong arms and shoulders but a smaller waist, he’s got some MADD V-line. He’s got a nice smackable amount of cake.

General Aesthetic: 😏😏😏. He wears flannels, darker colored skinny jeans, SOMETIMES THO he wears 70’s pants that are like right around the hips and like highwaisted and whatnot with a sleeveless cropped tshirt. He’s oddly vintage with stuff like that, but in a rock singer type of way. He only just started getting into this tho.

Everyday outfit: dark blue skinny jeans, black tshirt, tan jacket that has a LOTTA compartments.

Laughing Jill

Face: button nose, oval shaped face, high cheekbones, an average (a lil weak) jawline, pale skin, black irises. Thinner lips. Thin slightly arched eyebrows.

Physic: southern mommy. SORRY. 6’2 tho Bc shes mythical. I think she’s a wide hourglass too?? Like she is big chested and she def has a gyatt, she’s got tummy. She isn’t really defined at all.

General Aesthetic: Harley Quinn wannabe. Just likes the mix matches jumpsuit idea. Like she loves mixing and matching contrasting colors and especially black and white. She mixes in some lavender too. Is always wearing the most dangly earrings too.

Everyday outfit: an above the knee length skirt with a black petty coat underneath, a long sleeveless vest that goes to her mid calf and buttons together under her boobs. Her shirt is a plain white button up with puffy sleeves. For shoes she wears black heeled boots. Her hair is in a curly bun with a tiny off center hat.

Hoodie

Face: Roman nose, not that pale, diamond shaped face, pretty light brown eyes. Pretty strong jawline. Short black hair (dyed recently)

Physic: muscular, 6’2. Hes beefy. Like he’s got boob muscle, ass muscle. HE IS SCARRRY. Think like a smaller Miguel O’Hara almost. He’s less beefy than that, but like yk still beefy.

General Aesthetic: tbh think he went for a goth/alt vibe. He mixes feminine and masculine occasionally. Wears like long skirts sometimes, like a kilt almost?? Wears the fishnet tights as shirts, has multiple Spencer’s belts and necklaces.

Everyday outfit: black fishnet top with a black fitted tshirt over it, black baggy pants. Multiple finger rings. Multiple belts and waist bands.

Sally Williams

Face: circle shaped face, slightly downturned nose, wide green eyes. Small lips, lil bit of a chubby face. She does not eternally bleed from the head. Her hair is long and curly past her shoulders. She’s pretty dark.

Physic: a normal, average weighted 8 yr. 4’8.

General Aesthetic: she likes more vintage, boxy styled dresses from the twentieth century, like 1960s European box dresses inspired by Iggy and kids dresses from the 20s. She actually really likes the vintage youth outfits Bc of Shirley Temple. She LOVES Shirley Temple.

Everyday outfit: a pink and white designed dress that pleats at the bottom. Black Mary janes and white socks. She carries a small white clutch that slings across her torso. Her hair is in a long braid.

Laughing Jack

Face: pale as a mf, triangle shaped face, high cheek bones, cone nose, black hooded shaped eyes. Sharp ass jawline. Small forehead. Hair is shorter and more curly.

Physic: toned as an mf but SCRAWNY, like he’s dangly and flexible. It’s scary and arousing. He has no cake tho, no boobs either. He’s very lightly defined but that is IT. 6’9

General Aesthetic: likes the David Bowie Jareth Labyrinth aesthetic, kind of similar to EJ, but not really. He just also really likes poets shirts and vests. He loves dressing sort of Royal or regal. HE LOVES to wear baggy button ups but he NEVER buttons them up all the way 😏

Everyday outfit: I feel like his main outfit hasn’t changed much, the only thing I see him changing is the wraps around his waist possibly changing to a corset instead for his convenience.

(I’d like to remind that Lazari doesn’t have assignments as she is not a pasta, so her everyday wear is less convenient.)

Lazari

Face: tan, dark brown straight hair (occasionally pink), square shaped face, Roman nose, bow shaped mouth, thicc brown brows.

Physic: depends on her age she changes physically. But she’s probably like average in all ages, just less lean and a little chubbier. Height ranges from 4’11 to 5’8

General Aesthetic: colorful and a little childish. She wears overalls and paints on her pants a lot. Think of her like 2019 in a nutshell. She wears mom jeans and Angel tops and bucket hats. Hates crocs tho. All of her jeans have some 90s cartoon character painted on them.

Everyday outfit: a black Spider-Man tshirt with black overalls cuffed at the bottom. Red converse, fun silly socks, her hair in a long braid.

Jason the Toymaker

Face: diamond shaped face, pale, Roman nose, shoulder length bright red hair. Bright green eyes. Kinda got that Jareth haircut. Sharp ass jawline. Thin nicely shaped eyebrows. The makeup does not come off.

Physic: triangle. Slutty man waist. Not that toned tbh but he has enough. HES GOT SOME NICEE BONEY HANDS. His arms have decent strength and buff ness, but it’s rlly not that obvious. 6’8

General Aesthetic: old clowncore ig. Or like fantasy 1800s boyfriend aesthetic. He wears mostly beige or rained colors tbh and then a dash of black and red. Otherwise he makes up his outfits in abstract shapes and styles.

Everyday outfit: his usual tbh, bro has not changed much.

Zero

Face: square shaped face, wide eyes, no cupids bow shaped lips. Completely black eyes. Completely white hair that goes just past her jaw. Messy hair. Has stitches on the side of her mouth.

Physic: broad shoulders, smaller breasted, not much of a different with her waist. Does have low hips, like a long torso with shorter legs. 5’9

General Aesthetic: crust punk. Wears shit that is torn up and dirty. Lots of DIY and ripped up tights. Low rise black skinny jeans. And cropped shirts that go like just under the boob.

Everyday outfit: cropped black ripped jacket, plain black tshirt and lowrise shitty ripped skinny jeans and black combat boots. Under her ripped jeans is her striped ripped stockings.

Homicidal Liu

Face: slightly upturned nose, still has the stitches on his face, green eyes. Lighter brown neck length hair. Kinda has like a slight wolfcut tbh. A lil tan.

Physic:I feel like he’s a lil buff. Like 5’9-5’10. Not as buff as Jeff. Has some thiccness tho mostly in his shoulders tho so he’s more toned than Jeff.

General Aesthetic: spider noir energy. He loves trench coats and business pants. No matter what he’s always wearing black gloves. He’s always wearing business shoes too.

Everyday outfit: black turtleneck and black trench coat with black pants and black knee boots. He has patches on his coat with holes in it, but they’ve been patched up with his striped scarf, same with his pants. His main fit is patched together with his old scarf.

Nina the Killer

Face: triangle shaped face, olive skin tone, button nose. Curly black hair (often straightened) with purple and pink streaks, thicc upturned lips. Her scar is healed, but still very open like Jeff’s. Her eye situation depends on her state of mind.

Physic: 5’4, pretty skinny and toned. Mostly proportionate. Aight sized boobs and butt, generally just dainty idk. Built like the girl from house of 1000 corpses.

General Aesthetic: risqué Monique Chabot in post war France. She wears short skirts, only cropped tshirts and small dresses. She does not get cold at all omg. A lot of times she’ll wear heals or platforms. Never flats or converse tho anymore.

Everyday outfit: platformed knee high boots, black tights with black thigh highs overtop, a black and pink plaid miniskirt, a black crop top that’s a random band tee. A fluffy cropped black jacket that’s zipped up halfway, for style purposes. Fluffy earmuffs if it gets cold and her hair in an emo high ponytail.

Candypop

Face: oval shaped face, hella pale, Grecian nose, heart shaped lips tbh, almond shaped purple eyes. His hair is still the long pretty blue color as always, always up in a ponytail.

Physic: built exactly like LJ but more meaty, like he’s got more toning on his thighs and legs and stomach. Like he looks a lot healthier than LJ for sure. His outfit definitely makes his muscle pop a lot too 😏 6’6

General Aesthetic: he wants to be Ramona flowers, but he literally can’t Bc he can never find men clothes that is like hers.

Everyday outfit: tbh, his outfit has NOT changed like at all otherwise in color scheme. When his hair was a light green, his outfit became more warmer toned b4 he grew out of that phase and went back to his OG look.

Kate The Chaser

Face: square shaped face, round white eyes, black messy hair just barely past the shoulders, small lips, high cheekbones, Roman nose. No brows, they are drawn on.

Physic: a little thicc, broad shoulders and broad hips. I’d say a wide hourglass figure, but she’s like hella muscular. She has a proportionate amount of ass. 5’6

General Aesthetic: she wants to look like Siouxie, very 80s goth. Allison from the breakfast club energy. She loves wearing long skirts with big sweaters and doing the beehive hair. She loves scarves too and has a hella collection.

Everyday outfit: black wide legged jeans with a billowy maroon sweater and black combat boots. Sometimes she’ll add one of those long black detective jackets, but that’s off missions.

Eyeless Jack

Face: grey skin, Grecian nose, rectangle shaped face, high cheekbones, medium sized lips. Split tongue. Almond shaped black eyes. His hair is dark brown and somewhat long and wavy/curly. Medium thicc arched brows.

Physic: 6’7 and very strong. He’s not ripped like bulging, but he is definitely defined. He’s got ass and thighs, his waist isn’t as small as Dr Smileys, but there’s still a medium difference between his shoulders vs his waist.

General Aesthetic: he wants to be cottage core so bad, like the poets shirt and tunics. He does wear cream colored tunics and billowy pants. Tho sometimes on special occasions he dresses like a basic bitch. He’ll get out the tight business pants and black button up.

Everyday outfit: a black button up, black jeans and navy blue converse. He wears one of those chest strap things tho that carries his scalpel and other weapons. He wears a black leather jacket too <3

Dr Smiley

Face: pale, dark red eyes, tiny pupils. Shoulder length, fluffy black hair. Diamond shaped face, Roman nose, thin lips. Defined jaw. Johnnie Gilbert looking guy. Thin arched brows.

Physic: lean and tall. He’s got broad shoulders and an itty bitty waist fr. He’s bony af tho (except for the thighs,) he’s got NO cake. No junk in the trunk for him. 6’1

General Aesthetic: professional emo/dark academia. He’s ALWAYS wearing black turtleneck and dress pants. He always has a red satchel too.

Everyday outfit: he still wears his black medical mask and white doctors coat, underneath that though he wears a black short sleeved turtleneck, so his arms are out when he’s not wearing his coat 😏 his pants are just basic dress pants tho. Aside from the shirt, he wears basically the same thing he always has.

200 notes · View notes

pedrointofolklore · 9 months

Text

Rosebud

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: carnations bloomed when you saw joel. too shy to admit your feelings, but too overcome to not, you began leaving flowers at his doorstep.

warnings: very brief but graphic depictions of violence, mentions of death/grief, tragic backstory, emotional processing, reader is a loser who falls in love in two seconds, lots of metaphorical language, swearing, mostly just self-indulgent fluff, joel is soft, big age gap (reader is in late 20s), no smut, no use of y/n (reader has a nickname), jackson era.

word count: 6k

a/n: hey y’all. i’m delving into the world of fanfiction writing and i’m tentatively posting this as my first story. this story by @army-author is what inspired me here—i read it years ago and loved the concept ever since. i also super don't know much about flower gardening so apologies for any inaccuracies.

Your earliest memory was sitting in the garden with your mother one September. You were small then, no more than three years old, covered in soil and some residual stickiness from whatever fruit you’d just devoured, watching with a curious eye as your mother pruned her roses.

When you thought of her, you thought of that garden. In your memories, it was a labyrinth. Flowers, shrubs and vines overflowed the yard. You used to fear getting lost in the brambles, but at some point, you started to crave their thorny embrace.

It was a pink rose, so bright and intense, like a painting come to life. She shed the thorns, tucked it behind your ear and pinched your chubby cheeks. That was the first time she called you ‘Rosebud.’ Nobody ever called you anything else.

You couldn’t have known then that you were just a few Septembers away from losing her.

She died on the first day, in the centre of the garden. Your lasting memory of her was your father driving a pair of garden shears into her jugular. She collapsed to the ground, blood as dark as a crimson rose pooled around her as your father wept over her lifeless body. You sprinted inside and threw up.

She died a stranger. You didn’t understand what was happening to her then, but you understood that she was gone before the shears even entered her neck.

It haunted you for the next twenty years—but that person was not your mother.

Whenever the wound opened, and that memory came flooding back, you closed your eyes and thought of her as she truly was—kind, gentle, passionate. You recalled her soft smile, her musical laugh, the books she read, the flowers she loved.

When you were a kid, you thought of her as the sun that kept those flowers alive. As you grew older, she became the sutures that kept you from falling apart.

You knew your father had no other choice, but you could never quite look at him the same. Still, he was all you had, and he kept you safe until the day he died.

It was your mother’s leather-bound notebook that kept you going. She listed every flower she could think of, and wrote the meaning next to it. That notebook went with you everywhere, all across the country. Every new species you came across, you found it in the book, memorised its meaning, and crossed it off your mental checklist.

Flower seeking had to be the most frivolous thing one could do at the end of the world, but it kept you close to your mother, and gave you some semblance of purpose. Each new flower felt like something blooming inside you—your own secret garden that grew from the depths of your soul.

Carnations bloomed when you saw Joel.

He first came to Jackson in December with a girl by his side. They were gone by the next morning, but you saw him. He was coming out of the bar, tugging his coat back on when you spotted him through the crowd of carolling townspeople.

Even from a distance, you noticed the pain in him—a pain similar to yours. There was a wistfulness in his face, a longing for something he missed, and a fear so intense it seemed paralysing. He clutched at his chest, holding in the marigold that grew where his heart should have been.

You wanted to know him.

He came back that spring with the same girl, and this time, he stayed.

It was a while before you spoke with either of them. Everyone who arrived in Jackson had a tendency to be closed-off at first, and you couldn’t fault them for that. You didn’t know where they’d been or what they’d done, but you knew they’d gone through hell.

You met Ellie first. She came by the greenhouse one day, arms crossed and face vacant. Her reticence might have been mistaken for hostility if you didn’t relate so much.

You tore your soil-covered gloves off and wiped a hand over your cheek, probably just further smudging whatever dirt was caked on there.

“Hi there!” You did your best to sound cheerful, to come across as someone who was definitely okay with unexpected visitors. “What can I do for you?”

“Maria told me you might need some help around here.”

You didn’t think you needed help, and it seemed like the girl wanted to be anywhere but here. But as you pondered her, you started to recognise what she was actually getting at.

She didn’t know what to do, but she needed to do something.

“What’s your name?” you asked.

“Ellie.”

“Nice to meet you, Ellie.” You held out your hand, which she stared at for a good couple of seconds before shaking. “Call me Rosebud.”

“You’re a florist named Rosebud?” She was incredulous, and you didn’t even care that she was making fun of you—it was the first time you’d seen her smile during this entire interaction.

“It’s a nickname,” you told her, “and I'm more of a floriculturist. If you want to help me out, grab some gloves and a trowel.”

“What the fuck is a ‘trowel’?”

You spent the next few hours with her digging holes in the soil, un-potting flowers and planting them in the ground. As apprehensive as Ellie had been to begin with, it didn’t take her long to warm up to you.

The first thing you learned about her was that she asked a lot of questions.

“Why do we have to move these?”

“It’s spring. They’ll do better in the ground.”

“Why didn’t Maria show us this place when we first came here?”

“It was winter. Half the flowers had gone to shit, so there wasn’t much to see,” you replied, flattening the soil around a sunflower plant.

The greenhouse had been established before you got there. Nobody ran it, it was something for everyone to tend to, but nobody cared enough to do so. The gardeners of Jackson preferred to focus on crops that could actually feed them. But then you arrived, and you knew how to grow a thriving flower garden, and with all the bees it brought, it only helped the agriculture. It also meant that Jackson had honey.

“This one’s cool. What is it?” Ellie asked. You looked over at the plant she was settling into the ground—a grassy little shrub with white flowers blooming at the ends.

“Starwort. It means ‘Welcome to a stranger.’”

“Appropriate,” Ellie said. “I didn’t know flowers had meanings.”

“It’s called floriography,” you replied. “I have a book all about it.”

Ellie stayed until the sun began to set, leaving in much better spirits than she arrived. You were used to working alone, and you thought you preferred it that way, but she turned out to be good company. You sent her home with a starwort blossom and a jar of honey as a thank you, and told her to come back any time. You really hoped she would.

You met Joel the next morning.

There was a knock at your door, which you expected to be Ellie back again. Instead, you opened the door to find her guardian standing on your front porch.

Your eyes flicked shamelessly over his form. He was broad, strong, with plaid sleeves hiked up to his elbows—you didn’t know it was possible to be attracted to someone’s forearms. His features were beautifully angular, especially his nose. But it was his eyes that really got you. They were dark like coffee, deep and intense. You could fall into them and never stop.

The garden you carried in your soul had never felt more alive. It was weird you hadn’t spoken yet, but you worried if you opened your mouth, the brightest, reddest chrysanthemums would come bursting out.

“Good mornin’. Sorry to bother you,” Joel finally said, with the rehearsed politeness typical of a Southern man. There was still an earnestness to him, like he didn’t quite remember how to do this but he was determined to try. “I think Ellie was here yesterday?”

“That’s right.” You internally cheered when your voice didn’t fail on you. “Is that okay? I know I didn’t get your permission. She just kind of showed up.”

“No, that’s okay. I just came by to thank you.”

“Thank me?”

“She's been struggling to…adjust, I guess,” Joel explained, “but she was in a good mood when she came home yesterday. I think being here helped her, so thank you.”

You weren’t quite sure what to say. People silently appreciated what you did for the commune, but nobody had ever gone out of their way to thank you for anything. It was a little overwhelming.

“Well, she’s welcome here any time.” You didn’t think Ellie was particularly interested in gardening, but you could see that the girl just needed to feel busy, and maybe needed some company. You were just glad she could find that with you.

“Thank you,” Joel said again. “What was your name, darlin’?”

“Just call me Rosebud.”

You expected a laugh, a mocking jab of some sort, but instead he just tilted his head and looked at you with complete sincerity. “Pretty. It suits you.”

Your cheeks were embarrassingly warm.

“Well, I won’t keep you any longer,” Joel said. Your heart fell. “It was nice meetin’ you. And, uh, thanks again.”

He started to leave, but you weren’t ready for him to go. Before you could think it through, you called after him, “Wait.”

You might have imagined it, but for a split second after he turned back around, you could've sworn you spotted an eagerness in him, like he was hoping you’d say that.

“You can come inside,” you offered, “if you want.”

He did.

Five minutes later, Joel was standing in your kitchen, leaning against the counter. You could feel his gaze on you as you moved, getting the water ready and setting out two mugs.

“How do you like your coffee?” You were already sure of the answer.

“Black. No sugar.” Yep.

You poured the coffee into a mug, absent-mindedly blowing on it as you handed it to him. He didn’t wait for it to cool down before taking a sip, not even flinching at the heat.

You opted for tea with a generous amount of milk and honey.

“Thanks for the honey as well,” Joel said. “Ellie loves it. She’s never had anything so sweet.”

“That doesn’t surprise me if she grew up in a QZ,” you replied, turning to face him with your mug cradled in both hands. “I think I cried when I first got here and they actually had sugar.”

“When did you get here?”

“Around two years ago. My dad knew Seth—you know, from the bar—got in touch with him, and he told us how to get here,” you explained. You truly hated Seth, but he did save your ass and that left you obligated to be nice.

“Your dad’s not here, is he?” Joel spoke without any particular sentiment. It was an observation, plain and simple. You didn’t mind, you just shook your head. It felt normal to talk about your dad. You missed him, but his death wasn’t horrifically tragic to you—the man had a heart attack.

“What about you? I mean, how’d you end up here?” You were nervous about prying, or accidentally chasing him away before you really got to talk, but Joel had fascinated you since December. You needed to know more.

“I was in the Boston QZ for a while, left to look for my brother, found him.” He wasn’t going to get more detailed than that. Too much had happened that was difficult to talk about, and you could see that, because it was the same for you.

No matter how much you wanted to, you didn’t let yourself ask anything more. You didn’t ask why he’d been here in winter, why he left so soon, why he came back, why he didn’t come sooner if his brother was here, how Ellie fit into all of it. You didn’t ask, and you wouldn’t ask. All you could do was hope he’d open up in time.

It occurred to you just how different Joel looked now than he did in December, and not just because you were actually seeing him up-close. His whole spirit had shifted. Back then, he’d been like an open wound, barely being held together by exposed, bloody tendons that threatened to snap at any moment. He was different now—still wounded, but no longer in pieces.

There was something else in him too. Something dormant, but always on the verge of springing back to life. A quiet guilt.

“Flowers always been your thing?” Joel asked. You were grateful for the subject change.

“Pretty much. I used to know someone who loved them. Made me love them too.”

He nodded with an unexpected softness in his expression. It wasn’t pity, or even sympathy, but a warm kind of understanding.

“I know the flower stuff seems silly,” you said, looking down into the milky beige of your tea, “but it really is useful.”

“I know that,” Joel said. “I don’t think it’s silly.”

You could practically feel your chest split open that very second. Flowers sprouted from your heart, and they bloomed for Joel. They longed to reach out, wrap him up in their stems and vines and pull him into you.

Carnations. Chrysanthemums. Vervain.

You kept your composure until Joel left. You said your farewells, waved him off, shut the door, and immediately collapsed on your couch in a lovestruck heap. It was all so dramatic, the sofa may as well have been a bed of roses.

It wasn’t just that Joel was attractive—and fuck, he was attractive—it was the way he wholly and truly respected you. Respect was something you’d had to earn from everyone else around here, but Joel didn’t need any convincing. He saw your worth right away.

He was all you thought about for the rest of the day, the evening, until you went to bed that night. Even then, your mind wouldn’t stop racing.

These feelings were big, too big. Keeping them inside hurt, but you feared letting them out would be agony. They were safest with you, blossoming into flowers in your soul, where only you knew about them.

But still, you were wide awake, consumed by the urge to do something, say something.

So you got up, pulled your shoes on, went outside and picked a flower from your garden.

Jackson was desolate as you wandered down the street. The only residents awake at this hour were those on patrol. It might have been eerie if you weren’t so wound up.

You scanned each house as you passed by, looking for Joel’s. Your heart pounded in your chest when you found it. You didn’t need to be so nervous, the lights were off, but you kept imagining someone walking out and catching you in the act. But you’d come this far, and his front door was just a few yards away.

You climbed the stone steps with a quiet urgency, twirling the flower between your fingers one last time before dropping it just outside his door.

A single gardenia.

You were going to leave it at just one flower—you didn’t want to be weird and scare Joel off before you really got to know him. But then Ellie came by the greenhouse again.

“Did you leave a flower on our front porch the other day?” she asked, watering a yarrow seedling.

“What? Why?” You felt so lame, and so stupid for forgetting that Ellie lived there too. Your gesture was bound to get intercepted.

“There was a white flower out there. I showed it to Joel, and we figured it was from you.” It was a very reasonable thing to figure considering it was from you.

“What did Joel say?” you asked, trying not to sound as desperate as you felt.

“He said it was for him.”

“So he took it?”

“Yeah,” Ellie said. “Don’t know what he did with it.”

Ellie wasn’t nearly as invested in this as you were, but it still sounded promising. Joel had accepted the flower, maybe even liked it. The thought made your stomach feel strange, like a bunch of petals were flurrying around in there.

“Well, it was for him…” you mumbled.

Ellie glared at you in feigned outrage. “I’m insulted.”

“What are you complaining about?” you laughed. “I gave you a flower.”

“It’s wilting.”

“Fine then”—you handed her a pair of pruning shears—“go cut yourself a new flower.”

She wandered around the greenhouse for about five minutes and came back spinning a flower between her thumb and index finger. It had pure white petals and a bright yellow pistil. “I chose this daisy.”

“That’s a cosmos,” you corrected. “It represents harmony and balance.”

Ellie assessed the flower in her hand, genuinely mulling over the meaning of it, and you realised how much you appreciated her. She saw value in something you cared about.

“What did Joel’s mean?” she asked.

“I’m actually not sure about that one.” It was a total lie, but you sounded convincing enough that Ellie shrugged it off and carried on watering flowers.

You couldn’t help yourself after that. Knowing that Joel accepted your gift made you want to do it again. And again.

So you did. Every few days, when you were sure he and Ellie were asleep, you sauntered down to their house and dropped a flower outside the door. An aster, agapanthus, camellia…

Joel never mentioned it, and you never really expected him to, but the nods and soft smiles he gave you when he saw you around were enough to let you know he appreciated you.

But Joel would never know the true meaning of your flowers. It was better that way.

Maria and Tommy’s son was born later in the spring, and your garden had never seen so many visitors. The new parents were practically drowning in congratulatory flower arrangements, and eventually Tommy had to tell you to start turning people away.

One of these visitors happened to be Joel, and he was the one person you couldn’t turn away.

Unlike everyone else, Joel came to your door first. The slight nerves he’d had the first time he came over were gone, but so was the facade of sociability. Maybe this uncouth version of Joel should have irked you, but seeing him comfortable enough to drop the pretence just made you like him more.

“I need help with something,” he said, not even bothering with a hello.

“What is it?”

“A gift for the happy family,” he spoke bitterly, like he was actively trying not to grimace as the words came out.

“Flowers?”

“Flowers seem appropriate.”

Joel was strangely upset for someone who was welcoming their nephew into the world. You didn’t know the story between Tommy and Joel, just that they hadn’t seen each other for years before Joel and Ellie arrived in Jackson, and that Maria really disliked him.

But despite his sour attitude, it was clear Joel was trying. Whatever was weighing on him, he was pushing it down and choosing to be thoughtful for the sake of his family. Tommy could deal with one more bouquet.

You walked down to the greenhouse with Joel trailing behind you, his hands shoved into his pockets the entire time. On a better day, you would have tried to make conversation with him, but he obviously didn’t need that pressure right now.

He finally spoke up when you arrived at the greenhouse. “This place has seen better days.”

It wasn’t the flowers he was talking about, it was the structure itself. The contractor in him must have noticed the rusted metal pipes holding everything together, the holes and tears in the plastic sheets, and the fact that there was almost no room to walk.

“I know it’s bad,” you said with a nervous laugh. “It was built before I got here. I don’t think they used their finest materials.”

It was always cramped in here, but Joel being so broad and having such a presence made it even worse. He was closer to you now than he’d ever been. He smelled warm, like fresh coffee and leather and musk. It made your head spin.

“So, what kind of flowers are you thinking?” You needed to change the subject before you threw yourself at this man.

“Uh...pink?”

You laughed—you couldn’t help it. He couldn’t have been more vague if he tried.

“Why’s that funny?” He wasn’t mad, but he did seem impatient.

“Sorry,” you said, fighting back a smile. “Maybe you could elaborate on that?”

“I don’t know,” he groaned, running a hand over his prickly beard. “This is why I need help.”

You felt bad for laughing when he was so stressed out. He was overthinking something that should have been simple, and it made your heart ache for him. He was looking for guidance.

“We’ll do peonies for good fortune,” you told him, “and daffodils for new beginnings.”

His shoulders relaxed as some of the tension left him. Whatever was weighing on him was still there, but this was one thing that made it bearable.

You walked back to your house after cutting the flowers, where there was actually space to work. You expected Joel to leave then, go home and wait until the flowers were ready like everyone else did, maybe even have you deliver them on his behalf, but he stayed by your side.

“How do you know all this stuff?” Joel asked, sitting across the table from you as you worked. “About flowers, I mean.”

You never got into this with anyone, but your inexplicable attachment to Joel compelled you to open up. Whatever pain resided in him reminded you of your own. He understood you.

“My mom had this book. She wrote down the meaning of every flower she knew of, and I guess I’ve memorised it all over the years,” you explained.

Talking about her didn’t hurt like you thought it would. It was actually a relief.

“When did it happen?” You knew what he was asking.

“First day,” you replied.

He nodded solemnly. “Me too.”

This wasn’t the first time you had seen through the gaps in Joel’s armour, but it was the first time he’d made the choice to let you. You didn’t know his limits, if those two words were as deep as he could get, but you wanted to see what would happen if you just asked.

“Joel?”

“Hm?”

“You don’t seem happy about this,” you said, straightforward but still cautious.

“I guess I’m not,” he admitted, looking down pensively.

“Why is that?”

“Just don’t understand bringing a kid into all this.”

You agreed with him. The people of Jackson were as safe as they could be, but outside the walls were infected, raiders, FEDRA, and a multitude of horrors too awful to speak of. It would only take one mistake for Jackson to be completely wiped out. You wouldn’t want to bring a child into a world like that either.

But you also knew that most people who had kids post-outbreak hadn’t done it by choice.

“It’s not as if people have access to birth control,” you pointed out, stacking peonies onto a piece of tissue paper. “But I don’t disagree.”

“It’s just a lot for me to wrap my head around,” Joel continued—or maybe he was starting on a completely different train of thought. “Tommy’s the uncle. He’s always been the uncle. I’m…“

He couldn’t say it. He didn’t have to.

“You still are,” you told him. “Tommy’s still an uncle.”

Joel was silent, letting your words sink in. It was cold comfort, and maybe you shouldn’t have said it, but it was what you believed.

“Why do people call you Rosebud?” The question took you aback. It was completely unrelated, yet felt so important. He was the first person in twenty years to ask you that question.

“My mom came up with it when I was little. It’s what everyone’s called me since.”

“Doesn’t it hurt?” Joel asked. “Seems like a constant reminder of what you lost.”

It was hard having to live without her, but you never wanted to forget what you lost. “I guess I like the reminders.”

His hand absent-mindedly fell to the broken watch on his wrist, and for a fleeting moment, you were seeing the man you first saw in December. An open wound. Marigold.

“She didn’t stop being my mom,” you said quietly. “I didn’t stop being her daughter.”

And as quickly as the wound opened, it was once again sewn shut. He even managed a smile. “You’re wise, kid. You know that?”

Kid.

Ouch.

It felt like a kick to the stomach. In an instant, the carnations that bloomed when you first saw Joel all those months ago, that had been so red and vibrant, faded into yellow.

You held yourself together until he left. You finished arranging the flowers, wrapped them up, handed them over to him, said goodbye and wished him luck, then trudged over to the couch and flopped down onto it—this time in a dejected heap.

It wasn’t as if you thought you had much of a chance with Joel, but this just felt so awfully final. It didn’t matter that you were basically thirty years old—in his mind, you were a kid.

It was embarrassing. You thought about the flowers you left—a quiet admission of feelings—and prayed the couch would swallow you whole and suffocate you.

You’d gotten it all wrong. Joel never appreciated it. He probably thought it was weird and pathetic but didn’t have the heart to tell you. You wondered why he even accepted the initial flower, and if you weren’t feeling so spurned and humiliated, it might have dawned on you that you were overreacting.

You still left a flower that night, if only to get some closure. It would be the last one you ever left him.

A red tulip.

Joel came to your door one day in July.

You’d come to expect Ellie on your front porch at least once a week, but Joel wasn’t a surprise either. You were friends now, even after such an embarrassing rejection.

Joel still never mentioned the flowers. He was probably relieved when you stopped leaving them and wanted to pretend it never happened, and that was fine by you.

Being friends didn’t help matters though. He was always rough and grumpy in his Joel way, but he was sweet too. So sweet. It felt impossible to move on.

“Hey, Joel,” you said. “Need help with something?”

“I wanted to help you, actually.”

“Me?”

“I can’t keep lookin’ at that greenhouse,” Joel said. “It’s a piece of shit.”

You had to laugh at his honesty. “You want to patch it up?”

“Was thinking of taking the whole thing apart and rebuildin’ it.”

The offer stunned you. It was so generous and so out of nowhere. Your first instinct was to say no, that it wasn’t worth the trouble, but something stopped you. It was Joel coming to you in earnest and saying he wanted to help. It felt like an insult to deny him.

You smiled warmly and nodded. “Okay.”

“When can I get started?” he asked.

Shit. You had dozens of flower pots you didn’t know what to do with. “Uh, I’ll have to empty the greenhouse first. I guess I'll bring the flowers here in the meantime.”

“Ellie and I can help with that,” Joel said. “I’ll go get her.”

You blinked at him. “Now?”

“You got other plans?”

You absolutely did not. “Ah, no. Now is good.”

“Great.”

That was how you spent your day, lugging flower pots from the greenhouse and unloading them in your front yard with Joel and Ellie in tow. It was so lovely it bordered on being painful—pink roses unshed of their thorns pierced your heart.

You let yourself imagine for a moment that this was reality. That you, Joel and Ellie were a weird, happy family. The carnations in your soul had never been more yellow, and you instantly regretted indulging in that particular fantasy.

Joel was already at the greenhouse when you went there the next morning. He was up on a ladder, and half of the structure was already torn down. Rusted metal pipes and discoloured, ripped up plastic sheets were piling up a few feet away.

“Need any help?” you called out.

He looked down at you and smiled—a real, wide smile you hadn’t seen on him before. “You know what you’re doin'?”

“Not really.”

“Then, no,” he replied. “Don’t want you droppin’ anything on that pretty little head.”

Huh?

You flushed all over, wishing your couch was here so you could collapse onto it. Less than two months ago he was calling you a kid, and now he thought your head was pretty. The thought crept in that maybe he was purposely messing with you, but you liked Joel too much to entertain the idea.

“Well, I probably can’t help with the physical labour,” you said, cursing how nervous your voice sounded. “But if there’s anything else…”

“You’re a sweet one, Rosebud,” Joel said. He had to be doing this on purpose. “You just let me do my thing, and we’ll leave it a surprise.”

You laughed. “In other words, you’re telling me to get lost?”

He grinned at you fondly. “Just trust me.”

It only took one exchange for that hope to come back to life. You tried to stop it, tell yourself he was just teasing, that he didn’t mean it that way, but it was too late. Those carnations were already morphing back into a searing red.

You wanted to come by everyday and watch him work, but you stayed away and waited for him to come to you. It only took a few days for him to show up at your door, looking infuriatingly hot covered in blotches of sage green paint.

“Is it ready?” you asked.

“It’s ready.”

You followed along behind him, keeping your eyes down so you didn’t accidentally spot the new greenhouse before he was ready for you to look. You ended up just ogling his ass, which was a decidedly better and much more pinch-able sight than the ground.

“Look now.”

You lifted your gaze, and your hands flew up to your mouth as you let out a dramatic gasp.

It wasn’t just good, it wasn’t just an improvement, it was beautiful—masterfully pieced together with timber and painted the same sage green that Joel was sporting on his clothes. And it was bigger. There would actually be space for you to walk around inside.

Joel started to panic from beside you, and you realised you were crying. “Is it the green? I can repaint it if you hate it.”

You seemed to have lost the power of speech to reassure him, so instead, you threw your arms around him and held tight. The suddenness of it shocked him, and his hands found your waist. You weren’t sure if he was about to push you away or pull you in.

“So, you like it?” he asked.

“I love it,” you snivelled into his shoulder. “Thank you, Joel.”

He hugged you back then, caging you in with his big arms and making you feel so safe. You felt a prickly sensation on your temple as he brushed his lips against it.

Red tulips were threatening to burst out of you in droves. You didn’t want to let go, but you were seconds away from making a confession you couldn’t take back if you spent too much longer in his embrace.

You pulled yourself away, and even with the sun beating down on you, you missed his warmth.

He walked you back home, came inside when you offered him iced tea (you were out of coffee), drank it all even if it was too sweet for him, and all you could do was thank him repeatedly for what he’d done.

“Don’t have to thank me,” he said. “I wanted to do this for you.”

What did that mean?

“I’m sorry I never said anything,” Joel continued, a pink flush apparent on his cheeks.

“About what?” You knew exactly what.

“The flowers. I wanted to thank you, but I didn’t know how. I’m not used to it.”

“Used to what?”

“Kindness.” He almost winced, like it hurt to say.

“It was weird. I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t weird,” Joel assured you. “It was…nice. Bummed me out when you stopped.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. I get it.”

You didn’t know what to say at this point. You didn’t want to be talking about any of it, and you were about to tell him that, ask him to move on from this, until he decided to put you on the absolute spot.

“What did they mean?”

Fuck. “Hm?”

“The flowers,” he said. “You said flowers have meaning. What did they mean?”

“I actually don’t know those ones.” That harmless little lie worked on Ellie, but Joel saw right through it.

“Why are you lying to me?” He didn’t even sound angry or annoyed, just genuinely curious, and a little sympathetic.

You considered doubling-down, insisting you didn't know, but you couldn’t do that him. It was a vulnerable conversation for not only you, but Joel as well. You understood how hard this was for him, and you cared for him too much to shut him down.

But you couldn’t say it, not verbally. Instead, you grabbed the notebook that was laying on your coffee table and held it out to him. There was a split second as he was reaching for it where you imagined yourself tugging it back out of his reach, forgetting about this entire thing, but then it was in his hands and it was too late. Nothing would ever be the same.

You held your breath as he flipped through it, his eyes flicking over the words. His face gave nothing away, but his finger was tracing over something.

Red tulip - declaration of love.

He gently shut the book and set it down, and your eyes stayed firmly on the floor, hoping if you stared at it long enough it would split open and consume you.

“Are you surprised?” You couldn’t project your voice above a whisper.

“I guess not,” Joel said. It was the honest answer, and the one you most expected. “I thought you were just bein’ nice, then Ellie kept insisting you were interested.”

That girl was smarter than you gave her credit for—and you already thought she was very smart.

“I thought there was no way,” Joel continued. “You’re sweet and young and so pretty. I’m just an old man.”

“I don’t care how old you are,” you replied.

“I’ve done a lot of bad things...”

“I don’t care what you’ve done. I care who you are now.”

You were looking at him now. He looked moved, rapt, and not at all like someone about to deliver a devastating rejection.

“And you want me?”

“Yes.”

There was a pause where neither of you said anything, but the air was thick with an unspoken question: Where do we go from here?

“Can I kiss you, Rosebud?”

You nodded, and he did. It felt like dozens of chrysanthemums, camellias and carnations all springing to life under your skin.

He was gentle in a way you never could have imagined, cupping your cheek with his palm and holding your waist with the other. It was reminiscent of the hug you’d shared earlier, and you wondered if he’d wanted to kiss you then.

His lips were rough, a little chapped, but soft in the way he moved them. This wouldn’t be how he always kissed, you were sure of that. Someday it would be messy, frantic, all-consuming. But this careful, slow movement of his lips against yours was all you needed right now.

He wanted to be gentle with you, because he cherished you like a rosebud.

flower translations:

rose (pink) - perfect happiness

rose (dark crimson) - mourning

carnation (red) - admiration

marigold - grief, despair

starwort - welcome to a stranger

chrysanthemum (red) - i love you

vervain - enchantment

gardenia - you’re lovely

yarrow - healing

aster - symbol of love