#this one was fun. the entire plan was to make it black and white so that sokkas background is the background of zuko's pants but i kept | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sungbeam · 8 months

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nonidol!eric sohn x f!reader

you won't think golf is a boring sport after he's done with you! (but it's not about golf, and it's not about swings. just a young heir with money, love, and a thing for you.)

▷ genre, warnings. technically s2l, country club au, summer break au, starts with him already into you, slight pining? idk, fluff, humor, rich people™, golf lol, swearing, drinking, kissing, it gets like actually romantic, Eric Sohn bc he's so attractive someone help me.

▷ word count. 11.4k

▷ inspired by swing my way (cha cha malone & phe r.e.d.s)

a/n: my submission for the deoboyznet summer on you event! and @mosviqu who implanted the idea of country club rich boy eric into my brain @@

It wasn't like Eric Sohn, heir to his parents' multi-million dollar investment firm, prized shortstop of the UCLA baseball team, planned to spend his entire summer charming his parents' clients and partners. A summer spent at the Beverly Hills Country Club wasn't something new for the young heir either. The rolling, emerald green hills for golf; the clean cement tennis courts; the dim and classy bars were all ingrained in him since childhood. They were environments Eric had learned to thrive in, and when one had the advantage, one was always taught to wield it like a blade.

At least, that was what he was taught. Over the years, he'd also learned that his extroverted personality and charming smile were disarming—and his pretty boy appearance often resulted in others underestimating him. That was their mistake.

"...that trip to Taiwan will be such a great opportunity to explore the relationship between our companies."

Eric clasped Mr. Thomas Tsaur's hand in a firm shake as the two men stood at the final hole of the golf course. Eric beamed. "Yes, of course! I know my mom would love to see the night markets around Taipei; my parents have been looking forward to the trip all year," he said, as easy as breathing air. Of course, he didn't really know if his parents were looking forward to it. If he was the one on his way to Taiwan instead, he knew that he himself would be ecstatic.

During business meetings—and meetings that weren't officially classified as business, but were definitely about business—Eric tried to stay as true to himself as possible. Once in a while, some of the persona he'd built up slipped through the cracks, but there was a reason he liked baseball more than business.

Mr. Tsaur made a pleasant reply back about promising a fun-filled tour of the city with his wife, and the two of them were splitting up. There were offhanded comments about seeing each other for dinner when Eric's parents finally arrived, but that was all that was left of the interaction.

Eric jogged down the hill toward the conventional path where a white-topped golf cart sat waiting for him. His driver and caddy companion for the day was Jacob Bae, a regular worker here at the country club whom Eric had known for at least a couple years now.

But instead of just Jacob and the cart, Eric found that someone else had joined the group.

You sat in the second row of the golf cart with a circular serving tray pressed over your lap. Like some of the other staff members at the club, you wore the standard black, collared shirt and black skort. He'd seen you around this place plenty of times this summer and even greeted you once or twice, but he knew you were new.

Oh, trust that he knew a new face when he saw one, especially when said face was as pretty as yours. The only shame was that you were often assigned to areas where Eric didn't exactly frequent, but he never took himself as the type to give up easily.

You and Jacob were sharing a laugh as Eric approached the golf cart with his golf putter in hand. "Hey guys," Eric chirped.

All the attention flickered over to Eric, but he couldn't stop staring at the way the slight breeze this afternoon was making your hair fall in your face all pretty. Even in a braid, the little strands fell out to frame your face.

"Oh, hi Eric! How was the last round?" Jacob asked as he twisted around in his driver's seat to watch Eric round the back to put his putter away. You had shifted in your seat slightly to follow him with your eyes, as well.

Eric slid the stick into his bag and caught your eyes. His smile widened. "It went well. Same old, same old," he chuckled, bracing a gloves hand on the roof of the cart. "When'd you get here, Yn?" He asked you with a nod of his chin.

You perked up at the sound of your name. Cute. "Ah, just a few minutes ago," you said. You sheepishly gestured to your empty tray. "Haknyeon dropped me off a few holes over to deliver drinks, and then I saw Jacob over here and walked over to catch a ride back to the clubhouse."

"I can't believe he just ditched you," Jacob chortled.

Eric circled around the cart to take the seat in the front beside Jacob. "He ditched you?" He frowned, leaning his arm over the back of the seat to look at you.

As the cart began making its smooth return down the path and over a small bridge, you smoothed your braid over your shoulder. "No, no! He didn't ditch me; we were just headed in the same direction until we… weren't," you mused. "I mean, if Cobie wasn't here, a walk back wouldn't have been the worst thing anyways."

"I guess," Eric agreed, biting his lip. "So, uh… ever played golf before?"

"Golf? It's been a while, but yeah, I've driven the occasional golf ball across a green."

From the driver's seat, Jacob slapped his right hand down on Eric's shoulder. "Yn-ie! This guy's one of the best casual golf players you'll probably ever meet. His swing? So clean."

Eric chuckled, clasping a hand on the back of his neck, when he felt your attention flicker back to him again. "I'm no pro…"

"I'll have to see that for myself then," you said with a smile.

The golf cart slowed to a stop in front of the doors into the main kitchens of the clubhouse proper. Because this main kitchen was so large, they were given their own set of doors directly to the outdoor courts and beyond for easy access. While Jacob would drop you off here, he would have to continue onward for Eric's proper spot.

You clambered out of the golf cart, poking Jacob in the shoulder as you went. "Bye, guys! Thanks for the ride, Cobie."

"Bye, Yn!" Both boys chimed together. When you disappeared behind the swinging kitchen doors, Jacob pulled the cart back onto the main road to carry onward.

Eric settled into his seat to face forward once again. He lifted the cap off his head and carded a hand through his hair to let the strands, dampened with sweat, dry a bit. "I didn't know Yn was allowed to work the golf range," he commented as innocently as possible.

Jacob made a small humming noise. "Yeah, we're short a couple people out here because of the Ferndale event going on down by the gazebo."

"She wasn't sent there?"

"Did you want her to be sent there?" Jacob grinned slyly at the young heir, who turned his gaze elsewhere.

Eric coughed. "I didn't say that."

His companion still would not wipe that knowing smile off his face, even as he slowed the golf cart to a stop and Eric hopped out to collect his equipment from the back. "I didn't say you did," he snickered as Eric walked away.

He didn't give Jacob the satisfaction of an answer, instead, saying a "thank you" for driving him over his shoulder, before ducking inside the clubhouse locker room.

Jacob shook his head in amusement and began making his way further down the path to return the cart. Silly, silly kids.

You didn't realize country clubs were real until you were sitting in the office of the Beverly Hills Country Club's hiring manager and being hired. That was about a month ago, and no, you still didn't believe it was real. The entire training experience, in fact, had swept through like a fever dream.

The summer season had just begun, though, and they had taken you on in a rush of desperation. You hadn't failed to notice how relieved the hiring manager looked when you told him you'd worked as a waitress at an upscale wedding venue before you moved cross-country, and knew how to carry a drink platter and dirty dishes. That was part of the reason you'd been hired on the spot. You'd also mentioned your extensive knowledge of how to fold cloth napkins into swans, and you liked to think that was your true selling point. (Don't ask, the last part was because you had been very bored while waiting in the backroom during a wedding.)

And while you cared little about cleaning pools or catering to rich prick egos, you did care about the crisp green bills that graced your eyes with more frequency than a Superman actor on Hollywood Boulevard. There was also the possibility to gain some more experience in the dining and catering world; if you were lucky, you could butter up your manager to let you help out in the kitchen some.

After all, that was why you were here so far from home.

"Yn, you've got company at table five," Haknyeon said as he passed by you on his way into the kitchen.

You gave a nod out of instinct. You brushed your hands against your black waist apron, absentmindedly reaching up to also smooth out the black vest on your upper half. Usually when you worked at the club's restaurants and bars as wait staff, your uniform consisted of a white button down under a black vest, followed by a black skirt and apron. It was classy and chic, and definitely added to the expensive atmosphere.

You could see table five in your section up ahead. It was a little early into dinner service, but there were still people who came in. To your surprise, the company at table five was none other than Eric Sohn himself, along with two others you recognized as his parents. They were dressed casually—meaning semiformal. It was something out of a dinner cruise, with Eric's dark brunette waves styled effortlessly messy and the top three buttons of his dress shirt undone to reveal the slightly bronzed, toned skin beneath—

You cleared your throat, plastering a smile on your face as you approached the table. "Evening, everyone. Mr. and Mrs. Sohn," you gave a small greeting bow to his parents, then swiftly doled out little napkins for their drinks. "It's nice to see you on the grounds again today."

"Oh, Yn! It's very nice to see you this evening," said Mrs. Sohn with a delicate flourish of her wrist.

"Yes!" Mr. Sohn chimed in, "What have you been up to? Eric says he saw you on the golf range today."

Your eyes darted to Eric's, then went back to his parents when you realized his eyes were on you. You laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and bracing the end of your serving tray against your waist. "Oh, uhm, yeah! I was just summoned down there to get some drinks to the Santos family—you know them, right?"

Recognition lit up in Eric's mother's eyes. "Yes, yes! Marina and her kids! Ah, well that sounds nice; I'll have to see if I can bump into her at the spa or something. Eric gave you a ride back in his cart, didn't he? The walk back is awfully far."

You nodded. "Yeah, of course. He was with Jacob, so I just hopped in the back and rode back with them here."

"I still owe you that golf date," Eric cut in smoothly, the hand with his Rolex draped over the back of his chair. His smile was casual, innocent, the kind that so easily could make anyone do his bidding.

"Golf date?" His parents glanced curiously between the two of you, and you felt heat rush up to your cheeks.

"It was just an offhand comment," you said sheepishly. "Jacob was telling me about how great of a golfer Eric is and I said I wanted to see his swing some time." Before anything else could be said on the matter, you tucked your tray under your arm and replaced it with your notepad and pen. "Can I get you anything to drink? An appetizer to start?"

That drew away the conversation promptly. It wasn't like you were uncomfortable with the idea of going on a date with Eric Sohn, it just wasn't that simple. Though the club officially encouraged good relationships between staff and club members, they didn't exactly encourage the romantic kind of relationship. Obviously, it would be impossible to enforce a no-entanglement policy completely, but you wanted to stay on your manager's good side.

You nearly folded in half over the counter of the tiki bar at the pool. Sweat streamed down the side of your face, and you were pretty sure your baby hairs looked akin to a lion's mane under your white baseball cap. Thank god the club didn't force you to wear a black colored hat instead; the black polo and skort were death enough.

Jacob chuckled as he passed you a clean, damp towel that had been soaking in ice water. "Before you get heat stroke," he said, then returned to preparing a tray of drinks someone had ordered at the hot tub.

You thanked him profusely, dabbing your face and neck with the cool blessing. "Sheesh," you groaned. "I think I need to reapply my sunscreen soon. How are you out here all the time, Cobie?"

He grinned with a half-hearted shrug. "Well, I work with cold drinks and I'm under the shade. And—" he tapped the handy little fan clipped to one of the structure poles of the tiki bar, "—this beautiful work of engineering."

"I need one of those umbrella hats and squirt bottles kids bring to Disneyland," you grumbled and plucked yourself up from the bar. You returned the towel to Jacob so he could toss it into the soiled towel bin on the other side of him. You watched as he finished up filling the tray and whistled at the pool waiter who had ordered it for the group at the hot tub.

As the waiter walked away with the drinks, you thought aloud, "How could they stand to be in the hot tub in this heat?" From here, you could see the group of girls gathered in the bubbling jets of the hot tub at the far end of the pool in their bikini tops and Gucci shades.

"They're not standing—they're sitting."

You sent Jacob an unimpressed look, to which he simply smiled wider.

"Hey guys!" Ji Changmin huffed and puffed as he collapsed onto the barstool next to you. He had a towel hanging around his shoulders and a white sweatband holding up his dark bangs dripping with sweat. "Can I get an ice water, hyung?"

"Yeah, man," Jacob said, already dumping a scoop of ice in a cup.

"You alright there, Changmin?" You glanced over at the club's dance instructor with barely concealed amusement.

Changmin took the corner of his towel to dry the dribble of sweat making its way down his forehead. "Whoever thought it was a good idea to do hot Zumba in the height of summer needs a reality check. I think I'm dying."

As one of the country club's primary dance instructors, not only did Changmin lead all of the dance activities on the grounds, he was also supposed to take over any dance aerobics classes like said hot Zumba. You knew it wasn't his favorite, but it was still funny to make faces at him through the window as he did can-can kicks in leg warmers with all of the rich moms.

You leaned down to check if he had the leg warmers on. He did not. At least he finally had the good sense to break uniform.

Jacob slid over an ice-cold glass of water, and Changmin drained it like a man who trekked through the desert for seven days. You glanced at Jacob's digital clock on the counter behind him—he kept it so he could be on time for all of his breaks.

"Oh shit," you said, quickly fixing your cap and adjusting your hair, "time for me to get back to work."

Changmin straightened. "Where are you stationed today, Yn-ie? Chanhee and I wanted to come pick you up later for dinner before we have to come back."

"That's right!" Jacob slapped his palm to his forehead. "We have to all be back here for the banquet. I almost forgot, damn it."

You cocked a brow at him. "Wow, you, Jacob Bae, almost forgot about the major event all of our jobs are riding on that's taking place tonight?"

A smile curled onto your face when Jacob narrowed his eyes at you. "Don't you have work to do?"

You let out a laugh and began backing away from the tiki bar and your friends. "Kim has me at the ice cream bar until the end of my shift, Changmin. I'll catch you boys later!"

Jacob and Changmin raised their hands in twin waves to you as you walked away. If you remembered the time on Jacob's clock correctly, you had about fifteen minutes to get up to the indoor ice cream bar for your shift.

Tonight, the country club was hosting a banquet for one of the business men here. It was supposedly one of the most important events for the club's reputation, so it was all hands on deck. Everyone from Chanhee at the spa to Haknyeon in the kitchen were called upon to clock into work once again tonight to help out. You were glad you weren't a part of the set-up and takedown committees, but you were expected to wait on the banquet. Jacob was supposed to be bartending tonight, as usual, and your other friends and coworkers would be waiting alongside you.

You glanced up on your walk out of the pool area and nearly tripped over the soles of your sneakers.

Coming in hot (literally) were none other than Eric Sohn, Lee Hyunjae, and Lee Juyeon—all of whom were very much shirtless. Swim trunks hung low on their waists, their stomachs carved like triplet Michaelangelos. Seeing shirtless guys at the pool wasn't new for you, but these guys were actually around your age.

Eric saw you first and waved. "Yn, hey!"

"Hi guys," you greeted back with a shallow nod of your head. "Nice day out for a swim."

"I know, right?" Hyunjae raised a hand to shield his eyes from the unforgiving summer sun. "You must be baking in that uniform, Yn." He raised his chin to gesture at the all black attire.

"I don't suppose you'd be able to join us?" Juyeon smiled. He knew you probably couldn't join them because you were clocked in, but he had always been pretty nice nonetheless. He and Hyunjae were cousins, and the Lee family was well-known around here for being big names in the legal sphere, as well as being one of the larger families. There was another cousin of theirs around their age running around here somewhere, too.

You gave a helpless shrug. "Duty calls, unfortunately."

"Yn, hey wait—" Eric caught your attention as you were about to continue walking up toward the main clubhouse. He flashed you that smile again, the one that made your stomach do flips and would convince you to do flips for him if only he asked. "You won't happen to be working at the banquet tonight, are you?"

"How'd you guess?" You replied good-naturedly. "Why do you ask?"

He began walking backwards toward the direction his friends had drifted off to, his smile tilting up slightly. "So I know which cologne I should wear."

And it definitely wasn't a trick of the summer sun that made you see him wink at you.

"He's into you."

"He is not—" you wrestled your sleeve up your forearm and made a frustrated noise when the button would not go through, "—into me."

Chanhee gave you a nice, slow eye roll just so you would see it, and he yanked the sleeve away from you so he could roll it up himself. "A lot of men around here like smelling nice, but no one pulls out the Acqua Di Gio just for the service girl or a business banquet," he hissed as a fellow waiter rushed past you two in the narrow corridor. "Jesus, why is this button such a bitch?"

"That's what I'm saying," you hissed back at him as the two of you both struggled to fix your sleeve. "Not the cologne thingy—I hate how you're able to just take a whiff and name the cologne. What kind of demon nose do you have?"

Chanhee sighed and collapsed against the wall opposite to you when he finally managed to get the sleeve right. The two of you were currently on break, not hiding, in this corridor. In T-minus two minutes, you would both have to be back out in the hustle and bustle of cleanup or after-party drinks in the lounge. Because the main course had finally been served, a lot of the waiters were allowed to go on break. The banquet thus far had gone relatively smoothly, other than the fact that when you had served Eric all of his courses, he'd made sure you practically melted on the smell of his cologne.

It wasn't your fault you had to bend down close to him to not spill the hot food. And it wasn't your fault that he chose to put his mouth right to your ear when he told you a joke, masking it as asking for more water.

You couldn't decide if you were going to giggle or let your knees buckle at that moment. Thank god you managed to laugh behind your hand and hustle away before anyone noticed.

But that was besides the point. The point was that Chanhee had also passed by Eric, caught the faint trail of Aqua De Whatever, and connected some dots.

"If you want a demon, you talk to Changmin," he said. "I just know my shit. And I also know that you only break out the Acqua Di Gio when you want to attract someone, and based on the fact he's currently seated around about fifty other businesspeople…" Chanhee made a wild, desperate gesture with his hands, eyes widened. Are you getting this? He seemed to ask. Because I will smack you if you aren't.

You fanned yourself, justifying it by thinking about how hot the back hallway was and this outfit was, rather than admitting that it was because Eric was hot. "Okay, okay. Come on, we have to get back out there," you said, already turning your heel toward the door.

"I'm just saying that clearly he's been trying to tell you something," Chanhee added as you both broke out of the hallway and into the kitchen. He grabbed a circular serving tray from a stack on the counter next to him to hand over to you.

"Well, what do you suppose I should do with that?"

He pressed his lips into a thin smile, taking hold of a small, empty cart and pushing it ahead of him. "Just keep an open mind, darling."

You and Chanhee separated at the kitchen doors out into the banquet hall. While he would be a part of cleaning up, you needed to head over to the next-door parlor where the party had moved post-dinner. Business would continue as usual, just with a few more drinks and pool involved.

The parlor room was arguably one of your favorite rooms in the club with its cozier atmosphere created by the evergreen walls, tiffany-shaded lamps, and dark oak furnishings. It was also outfitted with a hearth (unused during the summer and spring) and a billiards table. Most of those who had chosen to stay had migrated with a certain crowd of people they planned to continue chatting with. Your job, as well as the few others recruited to the parlor, was to be a fly on the wall until somebody needed something. If tips were passed around, you were free to pocket them.

You were probably standing and waiting for only five minutes before you saw Eric stand up from where he was on the far side of the room. He shouldered his suit jacket off and draped it over the back of his armchair, exposing the white dress shirt and black vest beneath. Whew, he was wearing a full suit to this event? You wondered how he even survived, but all conscious thought flew out the window when he caught you staring and started smirking to himself. The smug, little expression stayed etched into the sharp planes of his face even as he strolled over to the pool table and lined up his shot.

You wondered—and it was just a thought—what it'd be like (possibly) for him to lean over you—

"Excuse me, miss?" You shook out of your daze and remembered why you were here. Unfortunately, it was not to admire the young heir watching you from the other side of the room, but to serve guests.

For the next couple of hours, your job was exactly what you did. You had been so focused on running back and forth from the bar in the other room and back that you always seemed to have missed Eric trying to catch your eye again. If he wanted drinks, he had to suck it up and ask someone else who just happened to be near him instead.

As the evening dwindled into a sweet, humid night, the amount of guests also began to trickle down. You had grabbed a rag on your way back to the parlor room and said goodbye to your coworkers on their way out. Some still lingered for last minute clean up, and though you were technically done for the night, you wanted to wipe down anything you had missed. It was something simple that you could do to help out a colleague, and it wasn't like you were in a rush to go home.

When you walked back into the parlor room, however, you blinked—surprised—at the sight of an individual left. He leaned against the billiards table, one hand holding the edge of the suit jacket draped over his shoulder and the other scrolling through his phone.

Eric glanced up from his device and pocketed it at the sight of you. "Hey."

"Hi," you said back. "Uhm, can I get you anything—"

"Oh, no no. I'm good." He shook his head, pushing off from the table. He shot you that signature boyish smile of his and your heart began doing cartwheels. "I just wanted to ask if I could give you a lift home."

You opened your mouth to answer, but nothing came out. Truthfully, you were caught off guard, stunned. This wasn't what you were expecting from him.

He saw your hesitation and let out a sheepish laugh, cupping the back of his head. "Sorry, this is so out of the blue. I… it's a little late out right now, and I didn't know if you had a ride or not. I know you're not usually scheduled to work so late."

"You know my schedule?" You blurted. Though, the thought did warm you and amuse you.

His eyes widened. "I mean, uhm, definitely not in the creepy, stalkerish sort of way! I uh, I like to think I pay a lot more attention when it comes to you." His admission didn't do much to slow the racing organ in your chest cavity. You always saw Eric Sohn as one of those smooth and collected young men who were born to charm. But seeing him flustered and tripping over his words because of you?

You ducked your head slightly, flattered and most definitely charmed still. "I'd really appreciate a lift home, Eric."

You both shared a smile in the slightly dimmed, slightly warmed lights of the parlor room.

Once you had finished glossing over the surfaces of the parlor room with your rag to catch any rings made by perspiring liquids, your manager dismissed you for the night. Eric told you he would meet you out front where he would bring his car around for you. You found yourself standing at the edge of the curb with a gentle, yet rare summer breeze wafting through your hair. You had your bag slung over your shoulder, and you grasped the strap and fidgeted with the material.

A car pulled up to the circular driveway—it was a sports car. The Corvette, sleek and aerodynamic, was doused in a shiny orange coat of paint that glimmered even in the night. The passenger side window rolled down so you could see Eric leaning over the center console and waving to you.

"Hey, hop in!" He said to you with a grin, lowering the music he was playing.

Gingerly, you walked up to the car and managed to maneuver yourself inside. The passenger seat was lined in soft black leather, and the inside of the car made it all the more easy to suffocate on that delicious cologne of his.

Eric had ditched his suit jacket and vest in the backseat of the car, leaving him in just his white dress shirt and slacks.

"Nice car," you whistled lowly as you buckled yourself in.

His mouth tilted upward. "Thanks," he said. He fussed around with his phone for a second before passing the device to you. "If you wouldn't mind putting your number and address in."

"Oh." It was a brand new contact page. You didn't question it, swiftly inputting all of the necessary information before returning his phone to him.

Eric took a peek at the address, then pulled out of the country club's driveway. You didn't live too far away from the club, luckily. It was only a few minute's drive, but the walk sometimes felt a bit longer. California didn't exactly have the most convenient public transportation system, and in an area like Beverly Hills, it was near impossible to find a reliable bus or train service.

"Any music preferences?" He asked you quietly.

You shook your head. "I'm not super picky. What you have on is all good with me."

"I have to confess, Yn," he said with a half smile, eyes darting toward you, "that I was trying to steal your attention all night."

Your stomach flipped and you suppressed the smile that threatened to crawl onto your mouth. "Really?"

He laughed. "Yeah, but obviously, your work ethic beat me out, as well as my own luck."

"Any reason for seeking me out?" He'd technically had your attention all throughout the banquet, but he had also needed to entertain and chat with the other people around him. While the after party was sometimes used for business discussion, too, the banquet dinner itself was the main event.

"I mean, besides wanting to talk to the cute girl eating up all my thoughts?"

He was turning onto your apartment complex's street all too soon. The car slid into a parking spot along the curb, and he twisted in his seat to face you. "I really want to take you out, show you a good time. It doesn't have to be something fancy if that's not your vibe; we can always start with golf."

You let the smile bloom on your face at the reference to the "golf date" you both had yet to schedule. You still wanted to see his swing, after all. "Then it's a date," you said, "I should have a free day two days from now, if that works for you."

Eric bit his lip. "I'm all yours, hon."

Before you could start doing somersaults from excitement, you resolved yourself to getting into your apartment first. "Well, thank you again for the lift, Eric. You have my number?"

He nodded. "Never losing it."

You grinned something fond. He grinned right back at you. "Get home safe."

"I will. Good night, cutie."

You slammed the car door shut and left Eric to his lonesome. Through the passenger side window, Eric watched as you disappeared into your apartment complex, safe and sound. He had almost given into the urge to ask if he could walk you up, but it was a miracle you had even taken him up on his offer to drive you home.

He pulled up your contact and sent you a text so you could have his number, too, as soon as possible. He deposited his phone into the cup holder, then punched the roof of his car with a shit-eating grin on his face. He'd scored your number and a date in one night—damn right, he did.

You had reasoned with yourself that this was okay based on the fact that you weren't on company time.

"Shoooooot," you whistled with a slight arch in your brows and applause. You tracked the distance Eric's driving shot sent the golf ball flying, and in the early morning sunlight, the white sphere disappeared over the crest of green hill.

You figured being courted by a club member during your own free time was a loophole you could live with. Especially when such a loophole looked so good swinging a golf club.

His follow through was just as beautiful as he was, his arms lifting the golf club over behind him from the arc. When he lowered the club to turn back to you, he was beaming. "What's the verdict?"

Your golf club was currently acting as your arm rest as you staked the head against the grass. "I don't know, Eric," you sucked in a breath, teasingly. "I think you could've gone pro."

He laughed then, eyes narrowed into glorious upturned crescent moons. "Thanks, cutie." He made a gesture to the tee. "All yours."

"Let me preface this by saying that it's been awhile," you were quick to say as the nerves suddenly bubbled up into your chest and made you wanna do a jittery shuffle. You should not have let Eric go first.

"No worries," he chirped. "Why don't we practice first?"

Yes, practice. Thank god he knew where your head was at.

You eagerly agreed, and set your golf ball up on the tee. Nervously, you smoothed your gloves down the front of your pleated golf skirt. You lined up the face of the golf club with the ball and pulled it back a millimeter—

Then chickened out.

"Performance anxiety," you grimaced to your date.

"Oh, well, that's okay!" Eric set his golf club down on the field and made his way over to you. "Can I help?"

Yes. "Please do," you chuckled, leaving room for him to take your club.

But instead, he shook his head. "No, no. You won't learn anything from just watching, silly goose."

He grabbed the golf club over your hands and lined both of your bodies up correctly. Your breath hitched at the feeling of his front pressed against your back. His mouth was so close to your ear again, and there was that damned cologne making you see hearts.

"Sorry, is this okay?" He asked softly.

You gulped, nodding. "Yeah. Perfectly okay." You wondered if he could feel your heartbeat quicken like a drum crescendoing. If he wasn't careful, your heart might just fall out and run to his arms.

From this position, Eric smoothly guided you through the steps of a perfect swing. The pullback was cranked over your shoulder, then the club would swing straight through, followed by the arc back over your other shoulder and the appropriate turn of your body. As he had explained to you, getting the perfect swing or shot in sports mostly came down to the follow through. If one could not back up their initial movement, then why make the shot?

"—and you turn your body—yeah, just like that," he praised as you automatically rotated yourself from the side to the front, the toe of your foot digging into the ground and turning with you. "That's beautiful."

He backed up from you then, giving you some space. It suddenly felt like you were missing something with him gone. "You should try it now!"

You took a deep breath in as you lined your golf club up with the ball again. Cranking the club back over your shoulder, you swung it down and back up again. When the face of the club met the ball, it did so with a resounding PING!, and the ball went sailing.

(That sound… mwah. The sweet, sweet sound of triumph.)

"You did it!"

"I did it!"

It hadn't gone as far as Eric's had, but it had definitely traveled farther than it would have without his help. You whirled to him, clasping his hand with yours as you both shared equally radiant smiles. A giddiness flooded into you, and no doubt into the glow of your face.

"See? Not too bad," he said, squeezing your hand.

"All thanks to you," you pointed out.

He shook his head, using your linked hands to lead you back to where your golf bags were waiting a little ways back by the cart. "Nah, you had it in you, Yn. It was just performance anxiety, as you said."

The two of you each grabbed your own bags and hiked them over your shoulder to head down the hill and find your respective golf balls. From this view, you could see that the other patrons of the club were slowly trickling out onto the acres surrounding. It felt strange to be here as not a staff member, but as a guest instead.

Eric piped up, "Is it weird that I was hoping you would ask for my help?"

"Not really," you mused, then meekly added, "'cause I was kind of hoping you would offer your help."

He looked about as happy as you felt, and he swung your hands together between you.

It hit you, then, that you were still holding hands. But you didn't let go, and Eric didn't say anything. He just helped you find your golf ball, line up another shot, and hugged you from behind like it was nothing.

From across the pond, Jacob, Changmin, Chanhee, and Haknyeon pulled up over the bridge. The four of them were all piled into a golf cart, and Jacob stopped it just over the crest. They all knew about where you were today and why you were dressed in proper golf attire rather than the country club uniform. They watched with wide eyes (and maybe a camera or two) as you and Eric had a good time.

"Young love," Jacob sighed fondly from his spot in the driver's seat.

"I think it's gross," Changmin giggled. He yelped, furiously rubbing the place on his shoulder that Chanhee had whacked. "Hey! I was kidding!"

Chanhee rolled his eyes. "Let them have their moment. I'm glad Yn-ie let herself have fun with him."

"They look like they're having quite the time," Haknyeon said. "They're cute."

Changmin poked his head in between Jacob and Haknyeon from the backseat. "Just a thought, but what if we turned on the sprinklers like in High School Musical 2?"

An exchange of looks, a deep consideration… "No," they all chorused. They would get their asses kicked for that.

You were on lunch break when Changmin practically crashed onto the bench next to you with a crazed look in his eyes. "You. Me. Spa. Now."

You couldn't even say goodbye to the sandwich you were eating before Changmin grabbed your arm and dragged you across the club.

"Changmin! What the hell—"

"I'll explain in a second!" He hissed back at you while ducking into the service entrance of the spa.

The backdoor led to a staff break room, where Chanhee was currently (coincidentally) seated on a stool eating a box of Pepero while watching a cartoon on his phone. The man glanced up from his phone at the loud commotion, one cheek full of his snack, and he blinked. "You're lucky I'm not with a client right now."

"Yeah, yeah," Changmin said, dragging you and a stool over to Chanhee at the same time. He pushed your shoulders so you would take a seat. Changmin placed his hands on his hips as he stood before the two of you. "You're never gonna guess what I just overheard."

"What?" You and Chanhee asked at the same time.

"Well, you know Clara?"

Chanhee jumped right in. "The one fooling around with that Brian Yang guy. He's the heir to that one corporation monopolizing SIM cards or some shit."

How the hell…?

Changmin's head bobbed vigorously. "Yes, yes! That's the one. Anyways—I was walking past the manager's office and they were talking loud enough to hear with headphones on. Apparently, Clara and Brian had a nasty, nasty split, and Brian got her fired."

Silence.

Chanhee's eyebrows flew up. "Like… fired-fired?"

A grave nod. "Fired-fired."

You held your head in your hands. "Just because of a break up?" You asked. "Clara is such a nice girl."

Your friend's lips were pressed into a line. "Doesn't mean he's a nice guy. I dunno—" he threw his hands in the air and let them flop back against his legs, "—it's fucked, man. He said it was, like, too awkward to be around her all the time since he was here all the time. And because his father is one of the stockholders of the country club, Manager Kim could do little but do his bidding."

Your heart had fallen into the pit of your stomach. Drama like this didn't really happen often here, but there was always something going on.

You always thought there were assholes here, but sometimes they just kept on reminding you of it.

"And now I'm fooling around with one of the club members," you thought aloud. The realization hit you, a golf ball to the face. "Oh my god."

Chanhee's hand came up to your shoulder and gave you a soothing, warm squeeze. "Eric seems like a good guy, Yn-ie. You never know."

"But you really never know," you murmured. There was a reason why the club discouraged romantic relations between club members and staff. Perhaps this time, it wasn't about work productivity, but about keeping your damn jobs. You needed this job. You needed it so desperately because of the money, the opportunities, the connections. Not to mention all of the people you'd befriended here… it didn't seem right that you were scared of what Eric could do to you, but reality was settling in fast.

The Sohns were a major shareholder in the club, which meant they could pull strings like tying a shoelace.

But Eric is good. He's been good, you reasoned.

Changmin crossed his arms as he leaned back against the wall behind him. "You should talk to him. At the very least, you only went on one date, so it's not like you're completely involved yet."

That was a good point. You were going to run with it.

When Eric invited you over to his house, you should have known you were about to drive your beat up sedan into the driveway of a palace, not a house. A house was for normal people, not whoever the Sohns were, you knew that much. To say you were intimidated by the massive front lawn, iron gates, and limestone arches and columns would be an understatement. Maybe you should have worn something nicer.

You pulled up to the curb of the roundabout—he'd mentioned to you that you could just park there. Apparently the garage was a little inconvenient for guests, but you weren't complaining. The front of the house was a marvel to look at, and wherever that garage was would have left you unable to fully soak in this modern wonder. Plus, you had some time to pull yourself together before seeing Eric.

The plan was… no plan, really. He wanted to hang out with you, and you'd mentioned your love for cooking. Thus, he proposed a miniature cooking class in his kitchen, along with dinner on the patio. It sounded nice. It also sounded great when you remembered what you needed to talk to him about. (Yay.)

It's not a big deal. Eric's cool.

You finally managed to trek your way up to the front door and you booped the doorbell. It was one of those loud bells that must have echoed throughout the house, because you could clearly hear it from the outside.

A couple minutes later, you heard the locking mechanism come undone. The door opened after; you swore that every time you saw this guy, you became speechless.

You had seen him in a dress shirt before, but this tank top and over-shirt thing was new. It was casual and comfortable, yet chic. His hair was styled in the same manner his clothing was—simple and so attractive. A silver chain and matching silver rings added the subtle touch of elegance to pull everything together.

"Hi," he grinned—he was always smiling, you realized. It was such a pretty smile. He stepped aside and gave you room in the doorway. "Come on in, cutie."

"Thanks for having me over," you said pleasantly, trying not to openly gawk at the front foyer with the sky-high ceiling, chandelier dripping with crystals, and grand staircase wrapping around the walls up to the indoor balcony.

He closed the door behind you as you deposited your shoes by the small rack. Eric wrapped a loose arm around your shoulder to guide you through the foyer. "Of course! I'm so excited you're here; I went out—actually no, I…" he scratched the back of his head sheepishly, "ordered it off that grocery app. I wasn't exactly sure what I was looking for."

"Grocery app?" You laughed. "Are you talking about the stuff for dinner?"

"Yeah!"

The two of you entered the kitchen. It was a wide, open space that flowed straight into the living room. The cabinets were smooth and snow white, accented with countertops marbled with black and hints of gold. Though clean, it was a space well-loved with a recipe book left open to a lobster risotto; little candies left in a jar on the island labeled with chalk; barstools that weren't quite aligned, like they'd actually been sat on. The living room, too, was beautiful. Massive, but beautiful, with a wraparound couch sectional and a flat screen with family photos hung above it. It was framed by shelves filled to the brim with CD and DVD cases, more family photos, books, and little baubles.

And the lighting. Oh man, the natural lighting from the windows making up the entire back wall… it led out onto the acres of land his family owned, as well as a patio that overlooked the valley.

Eric had mentioned dinner on the patio. If your math was right, that meant you would probably be dining at sunset, all while overlooking a splendid view—how romantic. God, you hated how giddy you were starting to get. Those butterflies in your stomach would not cease.

"You have a really, really beautiful home," you murmured, letting him take your bag from you to place on one of the barstools.

You had always thought that big houses like this would be so difficult to fill. What was one supposed to do with so much space anyway? From the pictures on the wall, you could see Eric's parents, himself, as well as a sister who must have been out making her own mark on the world in that special Sohn kind of way. Even with just four people in this place… they still managed to make it feel like a home and not a house. It was like your own house back in your hometown, across the country. It was lived-in and warm and yours, and that was the beauty of it. And you were certain by just looking at this place that the Sohns were a family who loved each other.

How could you not believe in Eric? Not with all of this to vouch for him? He had grown up loved.

"Thank you," he said. "It's one of my favorite places to be. That's why I still haunt it like a ghost," he joked. He placed a warm hand on the small of your back and led you over to the fridge where he had put all of the grocery delivery bags in. Even the fridge was relatively stocked. "Not sure if everything I got was right, but hopefully it'll all turn out delicious anyway."

You helped him unload the bags onto the kitchen island, raising a brow at the labels on the groceries. They were on the higher end of price and quality, which definitely wasn't a problem, but holding a hundred dollar bottle of red wine just for sauce was making your anxiety levels spike. "Oh, no. It all looks great, Eric. Thanks for getting these, by the way. I would have gone out and brought them here, but—"

He waved away your worries. "You're busy and you're working. Plus, it lets me technically pay for dinner," he said with a cheeky look on his face and gesturing with a finger gun. It was cute. He was cute.

"Smooth, Sohn. I see you."

"That's what they called me in high school," he played along, dancing on his toes behind you to fiddle with his phone and turn on a speaker somewhere (you didn't know where). "Smooth Sohn."

You snorted, slapping a hand over your mouth. Eric's eyes glittered with a mutual mirth. "Whatever you say, honey."

He waltzed back over to you, tongue in cheek. "I like that better though—honey." He leaned back against the counter next to you and watched as you sorted out the ingredients in different piles depending on how they should be prepped. "So what's the plan, chef? You're the boss."

"I'd love to know where your knives and cutting boards are," you said.

He leapt into action. "Say no more!"

In reality, you did have to say more. It wasn't that Eric didn't know where everything was in the kitchen, he just wasn't as well versed in using the kitchen. He'd told you while teaching him how to hold a knife properly that he really only came in here for ramen. Good news was he could crack an egg with one hand; bad news was that was about all he could do. It was still charming, nonetheless. And the cute cooking lesson gave him plenty of opportunity to get close to you.

He had even insisted on you teaching him how to chop carrots like how he had taught you how to swing a golf club—over and around him—with your hands over his and your body wrapped around his, your chin on his shoulder.

But with dinner well past done, the two of you made your way out onto the patio just as the sun was sinking into the embrace of the valley below. It melted into the sky like a broken yolk, saturated and golden. He let you have the seat staring out into the valley. The way he looked at you though, made you feel like you were his million dollar valley view.

The table was set with twin glasses of red wine (amazing what a good wine paired with beef stew could do for the soul), plates separated by a hot stew pot, and a couple of candles for ambiance.

"Wow," he moaned as the beef melted on his tongue. "This is so good. And you're telling me you're pretty, smart, and can cook?"

You held back a giggle so you could swallow your bite. "And I'm single," you jested.

"And you're single!" He leaned his head back, eyes closed. "Thank god for that."

Eric leaned his cheek on his fist, his head cocked slightly and his eyes on you with a swoon-worthy admiration. "Thanks for coming out tonight and hanging out with me."

You could kiss him. "Please, I should be the one thanking you. It's been really fun hanging out with you." It was surreal, actually. The fact that this young heir had deemed you "worthy" or whatever to court and entertain—it wasn't like you defined your self worth by his attention and affection, but this felt nice. Your conversation with Changmin and Chanhee the other day came to the forefront of your mind.

"I, uhm, think this is a good time to ask if you wanted to do this more often? Hanging out with me, I mean."

You weren't sure if this was what you thought he was asking you. He reached for his wine glass, and in the fading sunlight and the candlelight illuminating the bashful expression on his face, your heart pounded.

"What I mean to say," he tried again after a small sip of wine, "is would you be my—"

"I think we should talk!" You cut in before you heard anymore. You were getting jittery, unable to figure out when was the right time to bring up the thing, but also, you wanted him to say his thing, and it was just a mess. But when you saw Eric's wide eyes, mouth zipped up, you repeated in a much calmer tone, "I think we should talk about something. It's not… it's not super serious or anything. I could just be overthinking."

Oh, you felt bad. He looked like a kicked puppy, but you saw him pull himself together for you. "It's—you're probably not overthinking, Yn. What's on your mind?"

The wine glass was put down. He even put his fork down.

Were you making a big deal out of this? Probably not, right? This was important, you reminded yourself. You pursed your lips. "So one of my coworkers—former coworkers," you amended, "Clara. Her name's Clara. She and this guy you might know, Brian Yang…"

He nodded. "Yeah, I know of him."

"Well, they kind of had this thing going on between them. And the other day, she was fired because they broke up and he thought it was too weird that she was working where he was hanging out all the time," you rambled on. "And I uhm, I just wanted to make sure from the get-go that… you know… it's stupid, I don't know. But it's my job, y'know? And—and I need this job, but I like you a lot, Eric. Am I making any sense?"

Neither of you were eating anymore.

You looked at him, hopelessly, searching for signs of understanding.

He leaned in slightly and reached for your hands over the table. "Yn, sweetheart," he said, lacing his fingers with yours over the pot of beef stew, "that is a valid point to bring up, and I can understand what you're probably thinking. That—that news must have been scary, or at least nerve-racking, and Brian's a dick for that—"

You nodded, swallowing.

"—and I don't want you to risk your job because of me," he said earnestly. "But I really want to see where this goes, you know? If anything happens and you don't feel the same way, then no harm, no foul. I'm not gonna take my emotions out on you like that asshole; that's not right."

The breath you had been holding in fell from your mouth, a wave of relief. A sappy, grateful sort of smile worked its way onto your mouth and you met Eric's own kind expression. "You are actually perfect," you let out a breathy laugh. "Where have you been all my life?"

He grinned. "Funny, that's what I've been thinking about you." Eric set your laced hands on the side of the table as he raised his glass to you. "So what do you say? Can we try this?"

You lifted your glass to gently clink it with his. "Let's do it."

"So he's perfect, but he hasn't kissed you yet?" Chanhee's gasp of incredulity hit you in a gust of air. His lips pursed like a penguin's beak. "Figures."

You sent him a look. "Oh, please. Figures what? He's just being… I dunno, chivalrous!"

"Chivalry is dead," Haknyeon snickered as he waltzed by you with fresh towels to lay out by the pool. "You should make the move, Yn."

"So you two are, like, dating now?" Asked Changmin as he hopped onto the tiki bar stool next to you and Chanhee. He kept on glancing down at his watch; he must have only a small break in between his dance classes today.

"They're 'seeing where things go,'" mocked Jacob with a shake of his head. He swirled a rag around the innards of a glass to dry it.

You sent them all dirty looks now. "Cobie, out of all the times you choose to be an imp—"

"An imp," Chanhee muttered, glancing away as he took a sip of his piña colada, "I'm dead."

"If it makes you feel better, Yn, I'm supervising a tennis match with him and the Lee cousins later today. I can get a feel of where his mind's at," Jacob offered.

You drummed your fingers against the bar. The offer was tempting… "It's fine," you insisted. "We don't have to rush things. We go to the same university and we live in the same city now. It's not like we don't have time… right?"

"Riiiight," Changmin drawled with an over exaggerated wink. He frowned at his watch, hopping off his stool. "Damn it, salsa class time. Catch you losers later!"

As he darted off into the distance, Chanhee sniffed. "Says the loser." He plucked the pink umbrella out of his drink and set the decoration down on his napkin. "You're not wrong, Yn-ie. Taking it slow isn't a bad thing. From what you told us, it seems like you're both on the same page now anyway."

"Thank you," you said.

"Maybe he's trying to plan a romantic moment." Haknyeon rejoined the conversation now that he had done his towel delivery.

Jacob nodded with an approving turn of his lips. "You might be onto something. He seems the type."

Your heart was fluttering as if it sprouted butterfly wings. Oh, the thought of kissing Eric Sohn in romantic lighting…

"I think you should take her back to her job before she drifts fully into La La Land." When you snapped back to reality, Jacob's eyes were twinkling, eyebrows wagging.

Haknyeon nudged you with the back of his hand and nodded up to the clubhouse. "C'mon, Yn-ie. I think Manager Kim wants to brief us on dinner service anyway."

Hours later, Jacob found himself on the tennis courts, overseeing a match between the three Lee cousins—Sangyeon, Hyunjae, and Juyeon—and Eric. He often thought it was luck that got him to land this job where all he did to pass the day was make drinks, drive golf carts, and occasionally play doubles with club members. For all that it was, he considered himself very content.

"—that was a foul," Jacob declared, jogging to go catch the tennis ball before it bounded into the bushes.

Hyunjae let out a groan. "Nooo! It hit the line. Jacob, please, I thought we were cool!"

Sangyeon shook his head, smiling as he caught the tennis ball from Jacob with his free hand. "Hyunjae, we all know your eyesight is shit."

Hyunjae wrinkled his nose. "Hey! No one asked."

"Can we take a break?" Juyeon asked, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. "I think I need some water."

The boys all murmured their agreement, and Jacob reached down into the mini cooler he'd lugged out to toss them ice cold bottles of water. It was just one of the few perks that came with the club membership.

While Sangyeon and Hyunjae were bickering about eyesight and foul lines, Juyeon settled into a seat by them to referee. Eric sidled up next to Jacob as they both absentmindedly watched the chaos unfold from afar.

Jacob whistled. "So… Yn said she had a really good time with you the other night."

Eric perked up at the sound of your name. "She did? Well that's a relief to hear."

"It wasn't clear?" Jacob asked, face tilted in question. "I mean, not to completely expose her or anything, but she's been gushing about you all day, man."

A giddy smile took over the youngest Sohn's face. "She was?" He licked his lips, drawing the pad of his thumb over the corner of his mouth to catch the water that had dribbled from the bottle. "She's—she's so cute, hyung. Like, I don't know if this is weird for you because you're friends—"

Jacob coughed in amusement. "It's fine. Think of me as your guardian angel."

"Right," Eric piped up. "I think… I think we really hit it off, y'know? And I mean, she probably told you we just kind of had dinner and she had to leave, but she'd come after work, so she was probably tired and—"

Ohhh. Jacob understood exactly what was going on now. His heart warmed at the thought that Eric was being so considerate and not forcing you to stay. He was thinking about your long day, and didn't wish to prolong it anymore. Little did he know, you probably wouldn't have minded hanging around a tad longer.

"—I wanted to kiss her—"

Wait huh. Jacob tuned back in. "When?"

Eric blinked. "Uhm, at dinner. Or at least, when I was walking her out to her car." He glanced away and his smile softened at the thought. "I wish I had, actually. The moment was right there, and the lighting was perfect, and her smile—oh my god, her smile."

Jacob's eyebrows flew up to his hairline. So this was where Eric's mind was at; good to know. "Then do it—kiss her."

"Right now?"

"No! Not right now—"

"Hey, you guys ready to play again?" Juyeon called. The three Lees had already maneuvered themselves back to court.

Eric and Jacob exchanged glances. This conversation wasn't over, Jacob's look seemed to say.

They nodded to their companions, though. "Yeah, we're ready."

It did not come as a surprise to you when you found out Eric had a home theater in his basement. It was something like you'd pictured from the movies, the ones with the rows of dark leather armchairs, deep cup holders, and a giant screen and surround sound system. The foot of the theater room even had a little snack station to make popcorn, and a mini fridge stocked with drinks.

You and Eric shared the couch on the bottom floor that was big enough for the two of you. It was a random Tuesday, and you didn't have work today, so he'd suggested swinging by and hanging out with him for the day. You couldn't possibly refuse.

Eric scrolled through the movie options on the screen with the remote. "Are you sure you don't want any popcorn?" He asked you.

You shook your head. "I'm good, really. But it sounds like you want popcorn, Eric."

He caught his tongue in his smile. "Maybe."

If you weren't supposed to be watching a movie, you would have gladly curled up on that couch and stared at him for the rest of time. His jawline was enough to make a girl go mad, and the fact that he was just so sweet, too—

"How about this one?"

You snapped out of it, barely flicking your gaze back over to the screen in time to avoid him finding out that you were just blatantly staring. "Uhh, sure. I haven't seen this one, actually."

"Really? Oh my god, we have to watch it then." And so you did.

It was about halfway into the movie that you realized there was a draft coming down on you—the air conditioning in this room was awfully high, but you didn't want to say anything. You hiked your legs up onto the couch and hugged your arms, leaning back slightly against the quilt draped over the back of the couch. (How conveniently placed…)

Eric saw your movement from the corner of his eye. "You cold? We can share the blanket."

"My hero," you joked as he removed the quilt from behind your heads and draped it over your laps.

Because the article wasn't exactly miles long, you and Eric had to shift over closer to each other. Not that you were complaining. The arm and leg pressed against yours were warm, and it gave him the perfect opportunity to raise his arm and place it over the back of the couch behind you.

As you both watched the rest of the movie, you gradually let yourself lean into him, and his arm eventually fell to rest directly around your shoulders, pulling you into his side.

"I always liked the ending of this movie," Eric murmured softly to you as the credits rolled. He brushed his fingers along your arm in a warm, soothing manner. "What'd you think?"

You stayed with your head tucked onto his shoulder. "Hmm, not bad. I think they could have cut the romance though."

"Ah, I see your point," he said. "Sometimes directors just like to force it for the sake of a subplot."

"Wholeheartedly agree."

His fingers danced up to your shoulder and began playing with your hair. He pursed his lips. "Are you a fan of romance movies? That's kind of a random question, I guess."

"Not really—a random question, I mean," you said, and pulled your head off of his shoulder to face him. The thought occurred to you of how close your bodies and your faces were, sharing warmth and skin. You saw his eyes dart down away from yours for a split second. "I like romance movies. I think they restore my faith in humanity," you mused. "You?"

"I like 'em, too." He released a small exhale, an almost-shy smile etching itself onto his face. "Most of them are just… feel-good movies. They're really sweet, and I've always kind of wanted something like that."

"High standards," you whispered, though playfully. "Wouldn't we all like something from the movies?" To you, this was what the movies were like—"handsome guy sweeps girl off her feet, and he's perfect and she's happy." You were already living out your too-good-to-be-true dreams.

He laughed. "True. I think it's just a matter of waiting for the right person to come along, maybe. And following through."

You bit the bait. "Following through?"

"Backing up your initial swing," he clarified. "Something to drive the ball home and make sure you mean it. I feel like maybe that's what people forget about romance—that there's still an after, beyond happily ever after."

Wow. "Your brain," you praised. "That was actual poetry, I think. Is this how you get girls?"

He bit his lip through a smile, leaning closer. "Only one girl. I hope it's working."

"I think it's working a little too well," you admitted, voice barely audible now.

You could feel the warmth of his breath fan over your lips as he came closer, about ninety-percent of the way; the other ten percent was left for you to either push forward or pull back. He was giving you the decision on a gold platter.

And who could deny something served so beautifully?

You closed the gap between you and pressed your lips against his. It was soft, at first, as the nerves in your brain and your vital organs threatened to go haywire. You breathed him in, your noses slotting against each other. He cupped the back of your head with his free hand, the other curling around your waist.

When you broke apart, it was for a split second, until he was kissing you again. You were half in his lap at this point, your legs draped over his, your side pressed to his chest.

Foreheads pressed together, you shared a breath of air with him. He nuzzled his nose against you as if unable to be so far from you. "Be mine," he said, simple at first. Then, "Please."

You smiled against him and felt his mouth do the same. "Only if you'll be mine, too."

"As if I would say no," he laughed, leaning in again, and crushing his mouth to yours. The theater room filled with both of your giggles as you fell backward.

If this was the happily ever after, then you would gladly follow through.

a/n: to anyone who read flight risk, i just redeemed myself from valentine's day

tbz m.list

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @zzoguri @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @bless-311 @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @justalildumpling @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @outrologist @vernonburger @maessseongs @kflixnet

#kflixnet #bjnet #deoboyznet #the boyz x reader #eric sohn x reader #sohn youngjae x reader #the boyz scenarios #the boyz oneshot #the boyz drabbles #the boyz imagines #the boyz fluff #eric sohn drabbles #eric sohn oneshots #eric sohn imagines #eric sohn scenarios #eric sohn fluff #the boyz fanfic #dbn: summer on you

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elliesbluntfr · 1 month

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Haunting Me. - Ellie Williams

synopsis - a barn dance has been planned for weeks, after a very successful winter you all deserve a party! everybody in jackson will be in attendance including ellie williams, who is hoping that she will see you there.

cw: wlw! no use of y/n, more plot with slight smut, ellie self pleasuring, fingering, mentions of cunnilingus, a lottt of pining from ellie

~this is my first fic!! please be nice lmao and thank you for reading! <3~

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“Maeveee are you nearly readyyy?” you sing excitedly, throwing your hairbrush back on the dressing table after smoothing out the ends of your hair. Tonight was the night of the barn dance. Everybody had been talking non stop about it for weeks and for some reason, the topic never got boring.

This winter was one of the harshest you’ve seen by far, with everybody working so hard it was about time that spring had arrived to ease that work load.

“This night better make up for all those patrols we did, I mean seriously I still have blisters on my heels from last October.” Maeve sighed, appearing from the bathroom after checking herself once more before leaving.

You smile brightly, walking to her and squeezing her hand in comfort. Of course it was all worth it, even if there had been no dance planned, it was just nice to see everybody make it through. The sense of community in Jackson was just impeccable, and your best friend Maeve made it even better.

“Come on girl, let’s go have some fun.” You beam, not letting go of her hand as she smiles in return, following you out of the door.

The slight 9pm chill blows the bottom of your white mini dress against your upper thighs, sending a wave of goosebumps across them, a mixture of anticipation and coldness now evident on your skin. The black slightly fraying cowboy boots you had found at the clothes trade in a few years back crunching against the disappearing frosty grass beneath you. The stitching from the pattern was falling out, but you made do with tying the dangly bits of string in cute bows to give the effect that they weren’t entirely unravelling. You looked stunning anyway, and you felt it too.

“Sooo are you gonna talk to you know who tonight?” Maeve teased, tucking the stray bit of blonde hair away from her eyeline. You knew exactly who she was talking about.

“You mean Jenna right?” rolling your eyes in return. She was just a girl you’d hooked up with a decent amount of times. As great as Jackson is, the dating options are quite limited.

The guys were just well… disappointing, and around 98% of the girls were straight, leaving you with at least 5 options. Jenna was one of them, but you both made it clear, your situation was strictly hooking up. No feelings or anything else. It was the perfect arrangement, and you both had kept it exactly that way for a good 4 months now, up until a few weeks ago.

“To answer your question Maevey, no. She’s seeing Cat now, they seem to be good together.” You answer plainly.

“It’s okay to be jealous you know, you don’t have to put up a front with me.” Maeve adds, her tone shining with sincerity and care. You let go of her hand and link in with her arm instead, resting your head on her shoulder as you walk out of the residential area and onto the main streets.

“I’m genuinely not jealous, it’s just been a while you know.” you chuckled, as Maeve adds in a few agreeing ‘me too girl’ pats on the top of your hand. Raising your head from her shoulder, you turn and face her.

“So go for it with Max already! I know he likes you.” you smirk, watching her blush and roll her eyes.

“You may as well just shut the fuck up right now cause it’s not gonna happen.” she concludes getting flustered, pressing the back of her hand against her cheek to feel the heat coming off it.

“Mhmmm alright then, wait and see.” you taunt, discreetly pointing ahead of you both. There stood the 4 missing friends to your ensemble; Cassidy, Jude, Eddie and Max all huddled together waiting on your arrival.

9:04pm inside the bar.

“Waste of my fucking time.” Ellie mutters, rolling her eyes and tapping her booted foot impatiently against the wooden floor. Jesse scoffs, and turns around to stare at her dumbfounded.

“Ellie. You have been here for exactly 10 minutes. Will you. Give it. A chance?” he taunts at her, knowing full well she’s a short tempered little bitch.

“You know what,” she pauses, snatching the last drink ticket out of his hands,

“Thanks for the drink asshole.” promptly putting a stop to her unwanted torment. A few quick whatthefucks were heard from Jesse, as she chuckled to herself walking away. Approaching the far right of the hall, she hands the ticket to Nick.

“Another whiskey please.” Ellie requests with a nod towards the bottle, which was swiftly picked up and poured into a small glass. Questioning her life choices as to why she came here tonight, she glances out the window not expecting to find you.. the one person she was hoping would show up.

“Here ya go.” snapping Ellie back to the present, she thanks Nick for her drink and slowly walks towards the window to get a better look.

You’re greeting your friends with warm hugs and demonstrating your ‘pretty sexy outfit’ Ellie had described to herself in her head. A few wolf whistles and laughter follows, making Ellie wince in subtle jealousy. That one guy Jude twirls you around. Bastard.

He’s not really a bastard, and Ellie knows this.

Adjusting her eyeline back to you, she watches Maeve take your arm as you guys start to make your away across the busy street. Ellie clears her throat and pushes herself off the wall, heading back to Jesse and Dina.

“Ellie did you take Jesse’s drink??” Dina questions, trying to stifle a laugh escaping from her pretty obvious query.

“Yup.” she answers, toasting the glass of Jim Beam in the air before taking a satisfying swig.

“Unbelievable.” Jesse retorts crossing his arms, imitating a seemingly very sassy man.

Dina entertains this, wrapping her arms around him whilst sarcastically soothing his back with the palm of her hand.

“You guys are gross.” Ellie states, turning to rest her lower back against the table behind her. Dina turns around as Jesse envelopes her from behind. Knowing that Ellie isn’t a fan of these things, Dina reaches out a hand to place on her lower arm encouragingly.

“Why don’t you talk to her Els?” Dina enquires, with a look of positivity on her face hoping it’ll wear off onto Ellie’s current “totally miserable I hate everything about my life” persona.

She just shakes her head and fidgets with the buttons on her long sleeved black shirt. Without taking her eyeline away from the door waiting for you to walk in, losing any sense of confidence she had left in her.

———————————

“Can we go inside already we’re missing it!” Cassidy pleads, grabbing onto her boyfriends shirt in order to urge him to start walking to the bar. A collective cheer sounded, and everybody started the hurried walk towards free booze and a long awaited excuse to dance.

Bursting through the doors, a strong smell of dusty wood lingered heavily in the air, greatly overpowered with the copious amount of laughter and dancing circling your ears. The bar was so cutely decorated, you made a mental note that it should be permitted to keep it this way forever. Fairy lights dancing from the ceilings, swaying every so often due to Tommy lifting Maria up into the air, spinning her in his arms. Others naturally followed their lead in their individual couples, now really making the lights move to the music. Grinning at everybody finally having some fun, someone stuck out like a sore thumb. You spot a girl that looked familiar to you, but couldn’t match a name to her pouty face. Until you saw Dina stood by her, an obvious socialite who was a mutual friend of yours. You had remembered her bringing up this girl before. Trying to trace back to any conversation that might have had her name in it, and then it clicked. Her name was Ellie.

A familiar tune had started to play when you guys entered the bar..

Wagon Wheel by Darius Rucker.

Everybody seemed to know this one, as the majority of the very full bar had made their way to the middle of the room.

The familiar hand of your friend Maeve crept into yours, pulling you along for a dance. The rest of your group followed in a hurried mess, ensuring to not miss any more of the song.

At least half of the room started a line dance, and oh god you had not practiced this particular style. The scurry of feet doubled and doubled, as everyone joined in.

“GIRL I DON’T KNOW WHAT I’M DOING!” you exclaim already in a fit of giggles.

“LET’S JUST TRY KEEP UP!” Maeve said confidently, and so you agreed confidently too.

It was a mess of course. Tommy and Maria greeted everybody, audibly laughing at your miserable attempt to fit in. Tommy was a master at all things country and western, so he knew everything down to a T.

“TRY IT LIKE THIS.” he tried to direct loudly over the music and the sound of people, but it was no use.

Ellie furrowed her eyebrows, scanning the crowd silently happy with just watching everybody, especially you. Twirling around repeatedly tapping your boots to the beat of the music, you were effortless.

Just effortless. Ellie voiced in her mind, admiring the way your hair was flowing with your movements, always settling in the most beautiful array of different styles with each spin. The sleeves of your dress kept falling from your shoulders, after a while you just gave up with resting them back where they should be. Carefree for those 5 minutes, for the first time in months.

flashback:

She had to admit, your dancing wasn’t exactly the line dancing scene in the 2011 Footloose movie. Last weeks community movie night was of course.. the 2011 Footloose, to get everybody excited and in the mood to dance and celebrate. Ellie had been sat with Dina whilst watching the movie, nodding and singing along to Fake ID when the bar scene came on.

She was sat a few rows behind you, and could see whenever you turned to whisper to your friends or giggled at something that was going on in the movie. Every time you laughed, Ellie laughed too.

“Alright creepo you’re gonna burn holes in the back of her head if you don’t stop staring.” Dina nudged her grinning.

“Yeah yeah whatever.” Ellie hushes, trying to contain a smile batting Dina’s mocking hand away.

A wolf whistle caught Ellie’s attention, coming from one of the guys in front of her as Ariel, the reverends daughter from the movie, appeared dancing on the projection screen. For some reason, she looked at you to see if you had reacted in a similar way to seeing Ariel. She was trying to figure out your type. Ellie knew that you were gay, since the news about you and Jenna had spread around a couple months back. She figured you were into more girly girls, long flowing hair paired with bright colours as Jenna was. Wondering if she could possibly ever be your type was a constant reoccurrence in Ellie’s imagination. Scratching the side of her neck as her mind began showing her intimate moments the two of you have had many times in her head. She thought of you all the time, thought of everything she could do to you. Thought of everything you could be doing with Jenna, which set her body temperature high. Ellie knew she could be better for you. Treat you better, make you feel even better than Jenna does. The heat rising between her thighs alerted her to stop thinking, and to just focus on the movie instead.

It was a miserable 2 hours waiting to get back to her place. Locking her door as soon as she got in, then pulling the blinds closed. Ignoring the pressing feeling in her clit, she made her way to the bathroom to take a shower. Blocking out any image of you that came to her, she shifted her focus on just getting to bed for her early patrol in 7 hours.

Removing her sweatpants and tank, the coldness of the bathroom crept up her skin, making her shiver. The warmth of the water instantly soothed her, closing her eyes and letting herself loosen up. No matter what, you just kept finding your way in.

She imagined you in front of her, the water making your back glisten, almost entrancing her to kiss between your shoulder blades, and all the way up to both sides of your neck. Imagines lightly biting and sucking the sweet spots of your neck, tasting the faint and fading notes of your floral-citrus perfume, making her moan at the familiar comfort of your scent.

Blood rushes to her cheeks. She couldn’t stop herself, teasing her hand down her slick body, stopping at her nipples that were hardened by the thought of you. Her eyes fluttered shut at the wave of pleasure, as her breaths drew louder and deeper. Reaching between her thighs the feeling nearly knocked her over, frantically grabbing onto the shower curtain beside her.

“oh ffuck..” she whispered, already breathless. Her middle finger slid between her folds, seeking that warmth. Wasting no time, her fingers entered inside causing her to moan instantly. The growing desperation of releasing the pressure in her clit was evident, pumping her fingers at a growing pace chasing her orgasm. The moans resting in her throat were growing more primal and desperate with every movement. The shine from the shower water on her abs was replaced with a sheen of sweat, appearing on her forehead and the whole of her chest. The humidity of the shower steaming up the bathroom was making the stars in her vision even brighter. Ellie could have sworn you were with her at one point, chasing the silhouette of your naked body amidst the steam.

“oh fffuck ohmy-nmhhh” she groaned, catching sight of her clenched hand gripping the shower curtain. Imagined she was actually gripping your bed sheets, and you were the one making her feel like this with your tongue stroking between her folds, face getting soaked with her cum.

Her legs were shaking, struggling to keep her upright as her orgasm rushed over her. Cumming as fast as the feelings arrived, she was left breathless by you, and you weren’t even there to see it.

——————————————

“Earth to Ellieee!!?”

a voice broke through to her, snapping her awake from the flashback.

“Oh sh-shit Dina I’m sorry, what did you say?” Ellie stumbled on her words, trying to hide whatever that was with a laugh, but she could only feel how hot she was.

“You’re bright red, are you burning up? Jesse go get her some water.” Dina requested, putting an arm around her to check if she was stable.

“Are you sure she doesn’t want another one of my whiskeys?” Jesse scoffs, still bitter from earlier, but still trails off get some water. Ellie’s chest felt way too hot and tight.. a bit like-

“Yeah I’m great!” Ellie rushed to cut off any further indecent thoughts of you. She knew that she had just blew every chance she had of seeming normal now. Motioning towards the door and without saying a word, awkwardly left and made her way towards it.

So dumb so dumb so dumb. Ellie repeated under her breath just trying to get out of there as quickly as possible. The only way out was through the crowd.

You hadn’t left the dance floor since you arrived half an hour ago, song after song entrancing you to keep dancing. Your excellent way of sweet talking gained you a few extra drinks, might have helped that one of the guys had a crush on you.. idiot didn’t realise you were gay.

Maeve had been with you the whole time dancing and trying to attract Max’s attention, with some encouragement from the alcohol. Which had definitely worked, as he came over to ask her to get a drink with him. You sent her off with a flirty wink and a “told you so” smile, leaving you to third wheel with Cassidy and her boyfriend. You were right in the middle of the room which was getting a bit too hot, leaving little pearls of sweat on your forehead.

“I’m gonna go get some air!” you shout to Cassidy over the music, and she nods blowing you a kiss.

Tapping people on the shoulders wasn’t quite working, so you just kept repeating sorry as you shoved pressingly through the crowd. Someone had knocked into you which sent you flying into the back of somebody. Looking up, you recognise that person you bumped into.

“I am so sorry oh my god, did I hurt you?” you ask looking up at her. Turning around, Ellie’s breath caught in her throat as she realised it was you. Oh god this can’t be happening, her inner voice panicked, booming throughout her entire body.

“Uhh.. yeah yeah you’re good. Don’t worry about it.” she nods looking down at you slightly, meeting your eyeline for the first time.

She didn’t tell you if she was hurt like you had asked, but in that moment you didn’t even realise. You both had each others full attention, taking in her features as she took in yours. The freckles cascaded across Ellie’s face looked like they had been individually painted in the most perfect places. The way her short auburn hair fell effortlessly on top of her broad shoulders, a single strand framing her face that you couldn’t look away from. Your eyes glanced repeatedly across her face making sure to cover every detail, careful not to miss anything.

For fucks sake she’s even prettier up close.

Pushed Ellie to say more.

“Are you good?” Ellie asks trying to keep it casual, surprised she even managed to get words out.

“Oh yeah, was just heading outside for some air.” you reply, nodding towards the way out.

“My bad sorry.” she says, trying to back up into any available space to let you pass her.

“Thank you, and sorry again for bumping into you.”

As you walk, her senses are soaked in you. Breathing through her nose, her eyes close in disbelief of your perfume. Floods her brain and settles behind her eyes, as if she was trying to bottle that moment inside her refusing to ever let it go. She watches you disappear through the crowd, licking her lips and chewing on the bottom one.

Ellie had been watching the way your eyes scanned across her face the entire time, but could also see the way your chest rose and fell so close to her.

Fuck it. she voices, walking after you.

Anxiousness was washed away and replaced with greed and desperation. She had to have more.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams imagine #the last of us 2 #ellie williams x you #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams x female reader #smut #ellie williams fic #ellie x reader smut

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whitherwanderer · 11 months

Text

Pride Backlighting Tutorial

A few people have shown interest in replicating the pride backlighting I did, so hey, here’s a quick tutorial below the cut.

Enjoy, and happy Pride Month. 🏳️‍🌈

STEP 1 — SETUP

First thing you’ll want to do is find a suitably dark background to bounce the light off of. I use the White Screen housing item dyed Soot Black, available from the Housing Merchant or Apartment Merchant in any of the housing zones for 3000 gil.

I line up 2-3 of them for coverage, but one will do if you're trying to be frugal.

If you don’t have an apartment or an FC room to use, try asking friends, FC mates, or even folks you share a Discord server with. You might even find someone who already has a studio space set up and is willing to let you use it!

Lighting in your studio space should be 0 (though you might have success at 1 as well), so make sure to adjust that or ask the studio owner if they can make that change before you start posing.

STEP 2 — GPOSE

Position your character(s) just a little ways back from the edge of the screen. You want some space between them and the screen so that the lighting can float there without casting a weird circle on the wall.

Hop into /gpose and bump up the “Manual brightness adjustment” to about 120 or whatever level allows you to see your character well enough to pose them. Pose to your heart's content.

STEP 3 — LIGHTS

Here’s the fun part. In the Light tab of the Gpose menu, switch all of your Light sources to Type 1, which has the shortest falloff radius (meaning it doesn't reach as far as Type 2 or 3). I also set all of my lights to one strong color to differentiate them while I worked on lighting—red, green, and blue, all maxed out at 255 (for now).

Swing your camera (still on all default settings) around to your character’s back and up above their head a little ways. This is where Light 1 (red) will go.

Now pan your camera down at about mid-back height and set Light 2 (green) there.

Pan your camera down one last time until you have a nice shot of your character’s butt and set Light 3 (blue).

Spin your camera back around and enjoy this nice little macaw-colored gradient.

STEP 4 — CAMERA

Set your camera angle.

The way FFIXV’s lighting works is partially dependent on how much light is in a shot. It will adjust a lot like your eyes do when you’re entering a dark room from a bright room, or vice versa. Your zoom level and camera angle are going to directly affect the lighting, so set this before you start messing with light strength and color. Sometimes this means weaker lighting will actually light your character better.

I ended up bringing my lights down to around ~160 and boosted the "Manual brightness adjustment" up quite a bit to get lighting I was happier with.

For a straightforward vertical shot, I like to have my Field of View (FOV) at 200 and of course my rotation is set to 90. Zoom in or out as needed. Remember to save your camera angle if you plan to pan around and fix things!

STEP 5 — COLOR

Make it ~queer~.

Take your flag of choice and pick out 2-3 “main” hues. Generally these will be the strongest hues in the flag, if not the only ones. Some flags, like the Pride/Progress/Intersex-Inclusive flag itself, are difficult to replicate for the sheer number of colors that are in it. You can loosely represent a rainbow with some adjustment to the RGB colors, if you’re determined to have a whole rainbow in there.

Shader Note: I recommend picking a shader preset that doesn’t mess too much with color so that colors are represented correctly. You may need to adjust light strength and “Manual brightness adjustment” to be compatible with your preset of choice. Bloom will also heavily affect the way your colors are showing up, so you may need to tone down the bloom FX or toggle it off entirely. This all depends on your preset, however.

If you’re not into RGB math, here are some cheat sheets! Not every flag is represented here of course, but I tried to cover as many colors as I could so that you could grab a color from another flag as needed! Please note that colors will need some adjustment for your own screenshot, presets, and preferences.

And that’s it, y’all! 🏳️‍🌈

(Open this image up in a new tab for more detail.)

These were taken using a heavily customized shader for that nice glowy effect.

#ffxiv #ffxiv screenshots #[ ooc ]#[ tutorials ]#i didn't actually have a tutorial tag but #now i do #enjoy ❤️

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kitmoas · 7 months

Text

when the veneer crumbles

the sounds of water are always relaxing

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Warnings: **18+ MINORS DNI**, SMUT, dark and demonic themes, death, possession, drowning, magic use, Mommy kink

as per usual if there is anything I missed let me know

Author's Note: I'm so sorry this one was late, had a lot of car and financial shit I needed to figure out but I finally got it finished. This was one that i always knew how i wanted it to end, even from last year when i first planned it for the Occult series, but for some reason it was REALLY hard to put my idea into words. Hopefully it's not HORRIBLE, i'm a bit rusty after taking more then a few months off. The rest of them will be better I promise lol

Kitmoas | Necrosis Kitmoas | Navigation

The crickets in the distance are a welcome change to the busy streets of the city, cars honking

nonstop during your work day. The world you live in is hectic and out of control but the farther you walk into the almost clear empty darkness the more you can feel the control you naively gain. Stepping into the barely touched woods behind the mostly abandoned house was something that you had missed, a childhood memory that had died suddenly.

Allowing your mind to wander to the summers that you would spend here out on the lake, jumping off the dock, and laughing with your cousins was the welcome peace you needed as you settled along the rickety wood. Even if those fun times were cut short at your aunt’s sudden death, you knew that being here gave you just a moment of your innocence back.

Stepping onto the rickety wood carefully, you cringe internally as your arm tightens momentarily around the rolled up soft blanket. You should have known better to bring a water proof material but it was too late for that. Knees cracking slightly as you lean down, the smooth fabric flaps in the wind and you sigh softly in relief as you are able to fully settle on the dock. Deciding to stretch out was a bit of a mistake, in your time away you forgot just how soothing the sound of water lapping at the damp wood was.

Goosebumps spread across your skin as you slowly came to consciousness, brittle wind chilling you to the bone as you rub the sleep out of your eye. The fog is dense, and confusing as it was supposed to be a clear night. Slowly sitting up, your bones crack as you stretch as much as possible without rocking the dock too much. The unstable wood is loud even with the bare minimum movement causing you to flinch as it echoes across the empty field.

Squinting through the haze, you try to figure out if you can gauge just how late it is by the placement of the moon. The only thing you can see is a weird tunnel out in the middle of the lake, almost like a tornado of gray. Immediate fear isn’t your first thought, though you begin to question just how awake you are.

Condensation makes the wood wet, slipping as you try to stand up but it's the glowing red orbs in the distance that makes you freeze in your half crouched position. They are captivating even from afar. The air around you is thick, filled with the now red tinted fog that almost looks like it's bleeding. Heavy and molasses-like as it lays on your skin, eyes flickering around you try to make sense of your surroundings.

When she gets close enough to see smaller details, your brain slows almost to a complete stop. She’s entirely too breathtakingly beautiful and tragically horrific at the same time. No color to her skin, it’s almost as though she comes directly from one of the old black and white television shows your mother liked to watch. The woman is wearing tight clothing, torn and ripped sporadically. Her eyes almost seem so gray that they are an ethereal foggy green, only flashing ruby when the shrap thin lines all over her body pulsate crimson. Her hair is long and dripping with an inky hue, tangled and disheveled. Fingertips dipped in a steaming tar, dancing near her side as she stalks towards you.

It’s when you can almost reach out and touch the figure that you finally scramble backwards, putting distance between the two of you as the flight side of your instincts kick in. You barely make it more than five steps when you’re being dragged upwards with some sort of red translucent mist. It wraps around your wrists, dragging your arms above your head as you flop about uselessly. Screams are getting caught in your throat as you have to just hang there, watching this being get closer to you.

When the lady is directly below you, the hair on the back of your neck stands up straight and your muscles twitch from how tense they are. You want to panic, to yell, but something stops you. Tilting her head, she has to look up at you from where her magic holds you against the rough bark. Her hand comes out to touch you, but the soft feeling comes as a surprise to you. She cups your cheek, a low red spreading in her eyes as you shake under her touch.

She smiles at you, a soft almost nurturing thing. “You’re just as pretty as I thought you would be, little lamb.” Her voice is chilling, breathy with a raspy tone to it. The older woman’s free hand caresses your stomach, an unwanted warmth sinking into your gut.

Her nails are jagged, cracked and repulsive, as she takes her time to explore your body. It’s sudden, the vigor in which she gropes your body. Clumsy and completely all over the place, you aren’t entirely sure what she thinks she’s doing. Struggling against your restraints, the chill covers your body like ice freezing over a lake.

It isn’t until your body takes over, fear and anger sinking into your bones, that the creature seemingly gains control of her actions and her hand becomes confident and firm. Nails pointedly scratching at your skin as fingers map out your skin, almost stabbing at each goosebump she finds. Your eyes are glued to your face as your mind struggles to catch up to what you had done, flinching as her other hand reaches up. It doesn’t strike you as you thought it would, instead she brushes the back of her knuckles against her own face, trepidation stopping your blood from rushing through your body as you finally realize that you spit at her.

That wasn’t what you wanted to do, you knew that you needed to act smart if you were going to survive this but for some reason all your ability to think logically went out the window. You wanted her more than anything in the world right now, and you knew that you needed to try and do anything to keep her exactly where she was.

“Do you not have control over your stupid little body, mortal?” Her voice is low, almost filled with gravel as she mumbles. Rust filled eyes not even paying you a second of attention but instead staring at the glistening saliva that drips from her fingers.

Your head is shaking vigorously, denying inability in hopes that she doesn’t see you as foolish. The desire to be praised by her came as a surprise, but you weren’t fighting it and it seems to have worked. A smile slowly stretches across the surreal creature’s face as she blinks slowly. “It’s so funny to see such a useless being believe they are worth anything more than what I deem them to be. You think by answering my question in whatever way you think I want will make the outcome of your situation better?”

She speaks softly, almost nurturing as she rubs her soaked fingers along your neck, smearing your own spit against you. You crane your neck as much as you can against the crimson smog wrapped there, trying to hear her voice as clearly as possible.

“I take what I want and no smart mouthed, stupid brained little human is going to stop that. I like to have fun, and the peak is watching you bleed out for me.” The words are harsh but you can’t help but moan as your body is thrown upwards, red tendrils tightening and dragging you to hang limply from the tree branch. It’s devoid of leaves, and creaks under your weight, but it somehow makes you feel like you have a safety net. You had climbed this tree many times in the past, and even had various hanging sets from this very limb.

Swinging freely, you try to move your body as much as possible as the urge to escape your confines sinks in. Entirely too focused, you don’t realize that her hands are moving along your ice cold skin. Groping softly, her movements are controlled and precise to make sure that you barely register it in your brain. It’s when her hands force your legs apart, maroon vapor ropes slithering around your thighs to hold them open, that you finally realize just how hard you are breathing. Your body felt slightly warm, at least in your core, and you could feel your blood rushing downwards. It was almost like your entire being was electrified and you were entirely too conscious of every single thing you felt.

She doesn’t take her time, her eyes narrow as she focuses on mapping out your skin. The bright ruby lines she leaves in her wake only entertain her for so long before she finally moves in between your shaking thighs. The older woman’s finger swipes through your folds, collecting the small amount of wetness she finds there. Gasping as she spreads it across your clit, a throbbing ache despite the way your body revolts. Her jaw mockingly drops when for the first time her eyes light up with amusement, giggling when your hips chase her hand. “Oh poor baby, I can’t fuck you if you’re not wet enough. It’ll hurt your small fragile little body too much and Mommy doesn’t want to hurt you.”

Your head is shaking violently, nonsensical protests tumbling from your lips. It didn’t matter to you, regardless if it was because you wanted her or wanted the situation to be over with, you just needed her to touch you. Even though your wetness wasn’t enough for her, you did feel aroused. Maybe it was your mind tricking you into believing this was what you wanted or maybe it was the glittering crimson behind your irises, but that wasn’t a piece of information that you needed to know.

She tuts, chastising you. “Now don’t lie to me. I know what you want even if your mind fights it, and your body hasn’t caught up, I know.” You watch as she takes a step back, letting her eyes drink in your form. Letting the back of her knuckles run down your torso, you watch as she slowly kneels on the damp dirt. Her hands are grazing over your thighs, pushing them farther open as she leans in. The grip she has on you, though gentle, is strong and you can’t kick her when you feel her mouth along your skin.

The smoothness of her strangely sharp teeth is hot against your cooled body, but it’s the sharp pierce and spilling of your blood that leaves a weirdly chilled warmth leaking down your leg. Eyes widening you try to look past the head of dark locks to see what just happened, but it didn’t take long for your brain to catch up and the stabbing pain on your inner thigh.

She looks up at you, sparkling light jade eyes catching the moon light, with a toothy smile and a small dribble of crimson running down her chin. “You’re a fucking vampire?” You couldn’t help the shocked yelp, body shaking with fear.

The being doesn’t even answer you, giggling as rolls her eyes up at you. She seems so innocent in those moments but nothing gets rid of the terror emanating within your soul. Looking back at your bleeding thigh, she swipes her fingers through the thick liquid to coat them. Her nails catch on the open wound, sending another wave of searing pain through your body but she pays no attention to you.

It almost feels like time stops as you hang there, waiting, but the moment the brunette swipes her crimson dipped thumb across your clit something in your body cracks. It’s small but you can feel the change and in your mind you start screaming at yourself. You know being vocal won’t stop this crazy woman, but you wanted to deter her by being completely unaffected. It was the last thing you had on her, to make her believe that what she was doing was just pure torture and you found absolutely no pleasure in it, but you knew that that power over her was no longer available to you.

Never one for vanilla sex, not even in theory, you shouldn’t be that surprised that being taken by force from a demonic crazy being would be right up your alley. No one could ever keep up with you, your fantasies were just a bit too intense or a bit too dangerous, and for once everything you ever wanted was being fulfilled. This gorgeous being was forcing her fingers farther into you, your blood dripping randomly down different parts of your body.

Despite your want for intensely kinky sex, you knew that it should be completely consensual right? It should let you know that, and you could feel your anger rising in your body as the heat zoomed between your thighs. This couldn’t be consensual, not with how it started, but if it wasn’t then why did the idea of her actually stopping tear you up on the inside? You couldn’t fathom the idea of her ice cold thumb pulling away from your throbbing clit for too long, for her touch on your body to not cause goosebumps.

She doesn’t wait much longer, no need to attempt to please you now that she has the wetness she wants, shoving two fingers into you with almost no remorse. A shrill scream gets stuck in your throat as you choke on the force of air rushing up, the pain bringing tears to your eyes. A sign of weakness that this twisted soul revels in as she thrusts her fingers in, letting her free hand drag up crimson periodically.

The pain was immense and you were certain that she had to be using something besides her fingers, there was no way that the small hands in between your thighs were causing this much agony. You wanted to shove against her, but the moment her teeth sink into your breast you know you’re gone. Hips jumping, trying to get her to move more as the pleasure starts to settle in your tummy, uselessly against her body. It felt so bad that the good started to come from a delirious state, and you just needed her to move. The tips of her fingers just rubbing slightly against the soft spot inside of you, the texture of her wrinkled skin felt wrong but you were starting to become obsessed.

“Isn’t it comical? A desperate slut like you thought you had everything together, thought I was going to ruin your life by taking what was destined to be mine?” Through the heavy fog that had begun to settle in your head you tried your best to look down at her, shock painted across your face. How did she know what you were thinking? She doesn’t give you any answer, instead her thrusting gets more aggressive as the wetness between your thighs grows, and it mixes with the blood still heavily leaking from the bite marks.

You want to moan, whimper, maybe even plead but you were no longer sure what you wanted. Logically you needed this to stop if you were to ever be okay again, but at the same time all you wanted to do was feel her mouth on your clit. You wanted her to fuck you until you were incoherent, a drooling mess. Hatred towards yourself and her fueled your motions as you tried to work to take more of her hand, stretching around her third finger as she shoves it ungracefully into you.

Her mouth is at your knee now, glowing eyes looking up at you as she smirks. “Taking me so well for someone so against getting used.” Her arm is moving roughly, fingers curling inside you as she ghosts her teeth along your thigh. “So clean, so dry. Why don’t you make a mess for Mommy? I like my cunts all wet and messy.”

It was then you found your power, despite the arousal burning in your belly and the way you clenched around her fingers whenever she swiped her thumb along your clit. You knew that the more you let your thoughts wonder, even if it had to be forced, that you would be able to pull yourself from the situation. Imagine yourself somewhere else and almost black out during everything, your body would be limp and pliant but not give her what she wants. The movie you would go see in a week with your best friends, or the long list of groceries that you knew you needed to get when you went back into the city. Thoughts swarmed your head as you tried your hardest to ignore the way her fingers poked and prodded, the way her thumb caressed your swollen clit just perfectly.

Screwing your eyes shut, you make your best attempt at seeming unaffected but you don’t realize that you aren’t winning. If anything you just make it more fun for the being below you, giving her the opportunity to make you as wet as she wants.

Being so focused on the thoughts traveling through your brain was good until you don’t feel the tugging on your wrists, persistent and firm. It’s only when you’re tumbling helplessly through the air that you realize you are no longer hanging from the tree, but instead falling face first into the freezing lake. It’s a shock, breaking the surface of the water. It knocks the breath out of your lungs and forces your throat to close, you can practically feel all your muscles seize as well. You make the mistake of opening your mouth to scream, causing a rush of dirty water to fill your lungs, and it’s only when her hand claws at the back of your head that you feel even an ounce of relief.

She’s tearing your body out of the water, pieces of the thin ice fly around you and you can’t believe that you relax as your body collides with her. “Don’t think that you can try to outplay Mommy like that you little slut. I know what you want, you are my destiny. You were made to take me, so be a good girl and let me do what I was made to do.” Her voice is sweet, almost soft, as she speaks through her teeth directly into your ear. It shouldn’t calm your racing heart, neither should the almost warm comforting touch of her red mist along your thighs.

You want to let yourself fall, the intense arousal is boiling in your tummy and you can feel the coil tightening with each brush of her hand along your body. It would be much easier to allow yourself to become immersed in the pleasure coursing through your body, but it wasn’t until she allowed that crimson fog to slip inside you. Despite the fact that whatever she was pushing into you was magical, you were still too tight for her liking. There was a part of you deep down that still didn’t want this and it was causing your body to react subconsciously.

‘If the slut doesn’t want to get wet, then I’ll keep you wet myself.” Her hands scratch up your side, a nail digging into your nipple on the way up and it makes your hip buck. You feel yourself melting back into her and a moan softly slips from your parted lips. The urge to pretend that it’s from the cold is strong, but you can’t even pretend at this point like the feeling of her hands on you isn’t turning you on.

Her hands are running along your torso, teasing your nipples and scratching up your stomach. It almost feels normal, just another hookup and it makes you forget. Losing yourself in the way that the ruby swells inside you, rubbing against the soft spot it finds and caressing your clit softly.

The wetness between your thighs is gathering the longer she plays with you, wine stained mist thrusting lazily into you. It almost plays with you, knowing that it ruts to hard or fast that it will bring you closer to the edge, but it keeps you writhing for more with each movement. You want to beg for more, ask her to touch you with her own hands as you have begun to crave her ice touch, though there is something that is stopping you from doing that. It isn’t necessarily pride, something you lost the moment you began to get turned on by this aggressive form of twisted affection.

It’s when her nails scratch at the back of your neck that you realize the fog that’s dragging you slowly, almost mockingly leisurely, towards the edge is growing. Almost like a ball, it feels like she’s pushing her magic abilities to stretch you to the point right before danger. You’re confused, as your wetness starts dripping down your thighs and your breath starts picking up, how much more wet could you get?

Instant regret floods your system almost as fast as the ice cold water that rushes down your throat as she shoves your face directly into the lake. It’s not a quick dunk to shock you this time, her claw-like hand squishing your face into the almost mud like dirt at the bottom. She doesn’t stop forcing more and more into you, her magical fog swelling larger and it presses against where your torso is now pressed against the ground. Even as you struggle against her, your internal will to try and live kicking in, you can’t help the build up in your stomach. The coil tightens as her magic moves within you, moving inside you as her nails dig into her back.

Sharp stinging pains are a contrast, an added sensation, to your panic as you begin to think maybe she is just going to keep you submerged. There’s no way she would, right? She wants to use you, there would be no reason that she would want to truly harm you.

A deep belly chuckle is muffled through the water, barely a vibration as your arm and head flail as much as possible. You wanted out but you can’t help but moan instead of scream, the pleasure of her nails into your shoulder blades and her thigh grinding between your thighs into the swell of mist there beginning to get too overwhelming. It was no longer a fight to survive but a fight to enjoy the last moments of life. Somewhere in your mind you knew that you wouldn’t actually make it out of this alive, but for some reason you’ve decided to ignore that.

“Such a stupid whore, letting just anyone touch your cunt.” She fists your soaked hair in your hand, and just for a fleeting moment the pain mixed with arousal takes over your fogged mind. “You don’t even know Mommy and yet here you are, taking my gorgeous gift like the good little fuck toy you are.” Her free hand abandons your back in lue of groping your ass, pushing down against it to get you to stop moving. Her thigh is pushing against your throbbing clit now, soaked in your wetness despite water lapping up as you splash about.

You can feel your vision start to darken, the edges of the burning sensation as you try to keep your eyes open have blurred and blackened. Unsure if you are even panicking anymore, your body starts to relax and the only thing you can focus on is the fuzzy warm arousal filling each nerve in your body. The water floating around you becomes tranquil as each muscle in your body softens and you move with each thrust into you.

A wide sinister smile stretches unnaturally along the being’s face, pulling her almost gray lips as far as they can as she stares down at your almost lifeless body. She can see the signs and for her it motivates her even more, forcing more and more of her magic into you. You were everything she could have ever wanted and she refused to let you stay in the living world, if she was destined to be stuck to this lake forever then so would you.

Slowly you could feel all the tension in your body start to clump together in your stomach, draining from the rest of you and tightening around the scarlet orb inside you. You craved that last bit of pleasure, that last rush in your veins to end this for good.

When it becomes almost impossible to move and you are no longer shaking from panic or exertion, but instead trembling from hanging onto the edge, she knows it’s time. Sneering down at your limp form, she uses her grip in your hair to turn your head. Slapping at your cheek until she can just barely see your fuzzy bloodshot eyes, an almost soft nurturing smile paints along her face once she sees your drunk like state. “There’s my girl. So fucked out.” Her sphere cloud inside you starts to vibrate, her cold dark eyes once more glowing a dim ruby.

Gripping at your jaw, her claw practically breaks your neck as she forces you to keep eye contact with her. Even as your eyes slip closed, struggling to stay open as you start to dangle over the edge, you can’t help but feel drawn in to listen. “Say my name, little toy, say it and stay with me forever.” Her voice is raspy, bordering soft but she’s taunting you. “You know it, you know you do, so say it. Say it now.” Her actions become frantic, her thigh grinding more aggressively into you. She’s trying to force you into a more pathetic state, even at the edge of death she wants you to be begging for her.

As much as you can you try to deny knowing, because how could you? You had never seen this person, if that’s what she is even considered, before this horrific situation. The attempt at trying to keep water from going down your throat had stopped, your lungs should have filled completely with liquid by now so some other power must have been keeping you alive.

Though you couldn’t see it, the being was getting annoyed. Her eyes rolled as she realized that you were thinking again, a brain dead creature who could still think. “Say my name and you can cum for Mommy, like the pretty little whore you are.” She spits at you through her teeth, pointed and your blood drying on the dull shine. With her words she sees a change in your stature, even held under the force of her hand, eagerness. Humming slowly she allows her maroon mist to sink into each part of your body.

Your brain was almost empty, nothing but serene thoughts going through it as you felt yourself slip into the darkness. You thought that there would be a light at the end of the time but instead you start seeing a faint rosy hue. The being above you is yelling at you and the need to give in is strong, you want to end everything on a high. You need that high.

Her name slips into the water almost silently, your eyes slipping closed as you fall into unconsciousness, but it’s there. She hears it, muffled, “Wanda.” Usually one of her biggest fears, not one to want to go back to the damned dark world but with you she could thrive. A black magic demon who accomplished its goal? She would rule the world with a scarlet leash around your neck. A small smirk as her magic starts to die, a sure sign she’s going back to being contained. Until the end of time you will be her needy little toy, just as you were as you took your last breath.

#kitmoas | Necrosis #wanda maximoff x reader #dark wanda maximoff x reader #kinktober #kits kinktober #wanda maximoff #dark wanda maximoff #marvel fanfiction #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maxmoff x y/n

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luveline · 11 months

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Hi! Could you please write a daddy-daughter day with Roan and Eddie? Like Eddie and Roan listening to Eddie's music, going to Wayne's, and just doing cute things like when Reader went out with her friends please?

hi sweetheart yes I can, I loved this idea, tyty! dad!eddie x fem!reader, 3k (cw reader is tipsy at the end)

"Okie-smokie," you say, standing at the door with two options. "Ro, pink or silver?"

You show Roan your earrings. Eddie crams his foot into his sneaker and ties the laces, listening as Roan deliberates your two choices. "I think you should wear the pink ones because you have pink gems on your bracelet."

He can hear your smile. "I think so too. Thank you, lovely girl."

"Roan, you have your shoes on still?" Eddie asks, toeing into his second shoe. He stands tall when he's done and brushes down his jeans. "Coat?"

"I don't know where my coat is," she says.

"I'll get it," you say. "It's in our room."

"Okay. You have your purse?" Eddie asks.

You laugh as you run up the stairs. "Stop doing your dad checklist! We have everything."

Roan waits by the door in what Eddie believes to be her nicest outfit ever. He's been experimenting with elaborate hairstyles, and this one takes the cake.

He'd woken her up early for a shower and washed her hair, some tactile bonding to start what's looking to be a great day. She'd nearly fallen back asleep, and again when he was drying it with the cold diffuser. After that he sectioned it and pulled two triangular sections from the front backward, and with the help of four rubber bands and a little bit of hair mousse, he secured it out of her face, curled and pretty.

She's wearing a short-sleeved white t-shirt under stiff black dungarees with black sneakers. You suggested white sneakers, but Eddie joked that he wouldn't make her look too perfect (her white sneakers are full of mud from when they went looking for frogs last weekend, and he hasn't told you yet).

"Hey, can you get her, uh, her blue jacket? The navy one? I think her vinyl coat will be too uncomfortable with the short sleeves."

You appear on the top step already holding it. "I'm psychic."

Once Roan has been helped into her coat and Eddie's made sure you both have money and water, he locks the door to your (his) house with his key. It took him a long time to start calling it his house. Not that he ever thought you'd shoot him out of it. So far, there hasn't been a day since you got together where he worried it wouldn't last.

And here the kissing begins.

You might pretend otherwise, but Eddie knows you're jealous of today. Not in a cruel way, the envy isn't eating you alive or anything, but he knows you wishes you could come, and he also knows you know that's not how these kinds of days work. If you're with them, Eddie would have to share his attention. Alone with Roan, he can pour it all in. You're not so codependent as to resent that, and you're happy for them. But again, you're jealous.

"Why did I make plans?" you ask him, your hands bunched in his t-shirt.

"Because you'll have fun," he says, dipping his head down to kiss you.

You smile and lift one shoulder. "I will. You have fun too, okay?" You bend at the waist to kiss Roan's cheek. After a moment, you kiss the other. "My big girl, you look so grown up today, we should've taken more photos."

"I think ten was enough," Roan says.

"It wasn't," you and Eddie say at the same time. You sigh morosely, though it's not entirely genuine.

"Okay, I love you both. Say hi to Uncle Wayne for me."

"We love you," Eddie says. You pout and get in your car. You've parked behind him, so they stand waving at you as you leave. "She loves you so much," Eddie says to Roan.

Roan shrugs her shoulders, pleased and trying to be humble about it. "Dad," she grumbles.

He puts Roan in her car seat and they drive to Uncle Wayne's for lunch. It's not far, but it's enough to listen to Roan's tape, featuring her current favourite song, a nonsensical rock song called 'She Don't Use Jelly' by The Flaming Lips. It's not Eddie's taste but it's worth it just to listen to Roan shouting along to the song, her building excitement before she gets to sing, "He uses maaaa-gazines!"

After that is Sheryl Crow. Eddie wants to switch the tape to something harder but Roan's already singing, and it's so funny to hear her sing 'All I Wanna Do' that he can't make himself change it. He rolls down the windows so she can feel the wind on her face and she dances in her seat, tripping over the words with gusto.

Sheryl Crow is all your influence. As soon as the song ends he pops the tape and drives the car at a crawl. He's had Roan's favourite, and then yours, but now it's time for real music. He isn't raising no prep.

Roan is more than used to rock music. She loves it most of the time, though her taste complicates as she ages. Eddie puts on a tape you made him painstakingly at Christmastime full of ripped live performances, the sort of music you can't find on CD yet. The very first song is 'Sad But True', Metallica live from Mexico, '93. Roan bobs her head up and down with the beat. Eddie literally could not be more proud, better when she pulls out her air guitar and challenges him on who's best.

After almost crashing the car into the picnic bench on Wayne's front yard, Eddie pulls Roan out, and grins as she races up the steps to the door. She doesn't knock —Wayne's home is Eddie's home is her home.

"Uncle Wayne!" she bellows.

The smell of sausages and fried onions is inescapable. Eddie loves Wayne, and he loves his extra special hotdogs, but he can already sense the mess Roan's about to make. Ketchup stains have defeated half her wardrobe over the years.

Wayne's turning from the stove with a huge grin. He wipes his hands on a rag and chucks it at the counter, bending down with his arms opening to catch Roan as she sprints at him.

"Oh," he groans, "Hi, Roanie. Where have you been? I told your dad eleven thirty, and it's almost twelve."

"We had to help Y/N find her nice pants," she says, wrapping her arms around Wayne's neck.

Wayne gives her a grandfatherly squeeze, adoring but nonchalant.

"We didn't have to help," Eddie says, "but she made breakfast, so it would've been mean to not help."

"Still sounds like dad's fault," Wayne says. "Yeah?"

"Yes," Roan says, turning in Wayne's arms to beam at her betrayed father.

Wayne kisses her head and puts her down. He asks how you are, to which Eddie can answer honestly. You're good, and you're very happy lately making wedding arrangements even though you don't know what you're doing for lots of it. Roan is still torn on whether she wants to be the best man or the maid of honour. You'd been winning, until Eddie told her she could still wear a dress as best man.

The hotdogs are ready for eating straight away. Unlike Eddie, Wayne is prepared for Roan's mess. He pins a bib around her that he's had since she was two with a rabbit on the front. It should've been trashed a while ago, but in a show of quiet love, Wayne scrubs it spotless every single time she wears it. The white background is still a bright white.

They eat hot dogs and talk about nothing. Wayne and Eddie see each other every single day, but Wayne and Roan definitely don't. Now that she's getting older, there's been talks of consistent sleepovers. Eddie doesn't want Wayne to spend all week in work and then have her on the weekend because, while she is an absolute delight, Roan is also hard work, and especially on Fridays when she's tired. But Wayne wants to have her, and Roan loves him more than anything, so sooner or later Eddie's going to have to say yes.

He won't lie, he could use the break. But not tonight.

"Dad," Roan says, fried onions and bread falling down her front and back onto her plate.

"Yes, my rude girl?"

She licks her lips. Wayne tilts her head back to wipe her mouth clean with a paper towel. "Thank you, Uncle Wayne. Dad, can we get a movie tonight?"

"Yeah, babe, we can get a movie, but I thought you wanted to go to the Hawk?"

"There's no space for talking in the Hawk."

"And you want to talk to me," he summarises.

"Duh. Wayne, can I have more smustard, please?" she asks through chews.

Wayne meets Eddie's eyes as he squirts mustard on her hotdog. It's a look Eddie didn't know he wanted to see until Wayne started giving it, a mixture of she's funny and you're raising a good one, kid.

Eddie cleans up the hotdog mess before Wayne can stop him and they dawdle, not wanting to leave but with things to do. They're ten minutes late for their manicure appointments.

The Hawkins manicurists are slightly judgemental middle-aged women who love Roan. They've seen her a couple of times, once when Eddie had been on a few dates with you but was far from your boyfriend, and Roan wanted, "Pretty nails, like Y/N," after she'd seen your painted nails for a wedding, and then a couple of times after with you, but it's been a while since he was here, and the new young nail technician surprises Eddie.

"Hi," she says, smiling at Roan, "I know you, don't I? You and your mom came in a couple of weeks ago. How did your gems last?"

"They came off when we went waterfall walking," Roan says, sounding exuberantly pleased by this.

"Wow, waterfall walking, that sounds fun!"

"Yes!"

Eddie grabs Roan under the armpits to help her into the tall chair. "It was fun until her wellies split. She had cold feet."

"Oh no. What do we want today, miss adventurer? The same as last time, or are we trying something new?"

Roan looks up at Eddie. He takes a seat beside her, her coat in his lap. "Whatever you want, Ro. No, um, extensions though."

"No, I wouldn't suggest it," says the nail tech. "Maybe I can show you some pictures and you can see if you like something? I can do whatever you want me to."

Roan ends up asking for nails that look like the ocean. The nail technician is an artist, creating a beautiful illusion of real water on her nails, and colourful sea creatures on the nails big enough to accommodate them.

"Are you bringing your wife back soon?" the nail tech asks, covering Roan's skin with her hand as her nails cure under a UV lamp.

"She's not married, yet," Roan says.

"She's my fiancé," Eddie says mildly. He kind of liked wife better. "And she doesn't let me spoil her often, so probably not."

"She couldn't stop talking about you," the nail tech says. "And you," —she nods at Roan— "I was kind of jealous. I'm still jealous. I hope my baby comes out as pretty as you."

"You're having a baby?" Roan asks, gasping, almost knocking over the UV lamp.

"I am! Yeah, I am, she's not coming anytime soon though. But by Christmas I'll have her." The nail tech brings a buffing file to Roan's pinky finger and sands against the edge gently. "She better be as nice as you, miss adventurer."

"I think Ro might be one of a kind," Eddie says.

Roan smiles at him as though he's hung the moon.

They visit the video store after the nail salon, hand in hand. Roan is more than ecstatic at the aquarium on her nails, and it's making her sweet. She walks as close to Eddie as she can without stepping on his shoes, and doesn't let go for anything. Or, almost anything.

"Steve!" she shouts when she sees him, Harrington himself bent over the kids aisle arranging movies.

"Oh, no," he groans. Roan runs full pelt at him and he pretends to almost fall over. Roan laughs and tugs him back up, and he says thank you with a short hug. "Hi, Roan." He looks up to see Eddie, and glares with a mock disdain. "You. Where's my spirit level?"

"Your–" Eddie's lips part, and then snap shut. "My bad, Stevie. I still have it, I swear."

"Well give it back, I want to mount my new TV on the wall and I can't because you never answer the phone."

"I do," Eddie protests.

"No, you don't, I think I've spoken more to Y/N since you moved in with her than I've spoken to you. Which, actually, I prefer her. And I want you to invite her to my housewarming party next week."

"Am I invited, too?" Roan asks.

Steve smiles at her, putting his hand on her shoulder. "Of course you are. Robin's going to bring Mr. Stink too."

Mr. Stink is Robin's big fat tabby cat. Roan loves him so much she cries every time she has to say goodbye to him.

Eddie and Steve hug and only pat each other on the back once, which is progress. Having guessed why they're there, Steve pulls them into the backroom to show her all the new kids movies, and lets Roan pick as many as she wants to put on his account. Despite his hug and his party invitation, Of course you're invited too, Steve glares at Eddie fiercely from across the checkout counter. "Do not bring them back late, Munson. You cost me six dollars, last time."

"And I tried to give it back to you," Eddie says, the bag of movies hanging from his elbow, Roan the other.

"Don't insult me. Bye, my favourite Munson, make sure you bring me a nice drawing for my new fridge," Steve says. He speaks much more kindly to Roan than he does Eddie, but Eddie doesn't think for a moment that Steve doesn't like him. They've just always been like this.

"Okay! Tell Robin I miss her, please, and Mr. Stinky."

"Anything for you. Bye, bye," he calls.

Eddie waves at him and they stroll out of the video store like kings, Eddie with all their movies and Roan with one of the huge bags of ready popped popcorn. She's walking on sunshine with every step, nearly skipping by the time they reach the car.

He doesn't understand it. Eddie's just Eddie. He doesn't get it, but he has a moment when he's strapping her back into her third car seat, knowing one day she's gonna be so tall they can get away with a booster seat. One day she won't need a car seat at all. He just loves her so much he can’t handle it.

"Show me those nails again, babe," he says.

She pulls her wrist up, her fingers hanging down, and says, "Lookit."

He loves her. She learned it from you. You'd done it as a joke, Roan does it because it makes her feel cool.

"Gorgeous." He pulls her hands into his. "What else do you want to do today?"

She shrugs. Eddie strokes down a crop of windblown baby hairs with a licked thumb, waiting for her to decide, but she must get distracted. She reaches out to do the same to him, moving his hair behind his ear.

"That's for me," she says, looking at the little 'R' behind his ear.

"Yeah, that's for you. I was going to get your full name, but I couldn't take the pain," he lies.

Her nose wrinkles in amusement. "Then how did you get the big ones on your arms?"

"I was less of a crybaby when I had those ones."

"You're not a crybaby, dad," Roan says, giggling.

He pouts and sniffles at her. "You really mean that?" he asks tearfully.

Roan pushes his shoulder lightly.

"Did you decide what you want to do?"

She nods vehemently. When she tells him what she wants, Eddie really could burst into tears.

You're a little tiny bit tipsy when you come home that night. You try not to show it, but Eddie knows you better than he knows the back of his own hand, and as soon as you sit down he's taking big sniffs of you to make sure you know you've been found out.

"Stop, you're like a puppy," you grumble fondly. "Wait, where's my Ro?"

"Bathroom. Come here, let me take your shoes off."

You lift a tired foot into his lap. "I had, uh, a margarita. And a cosmo, too. It was happy hour!"

"Sweetheart, I couldn't care less what hour it was as long as you had fun."

You preen, your face swinging into his shoulder. One of your earrings jabs his bicep. "Did you have a good day with Roan?"

"We had a great day." He struggles to get your shoe off as you slide down his arm. "Maybe my favourite day with her I've ever had that wasn't with you."

"Really? I'm so happy. Oh, wow, what? Nice nails, handsome."

You pull his hands into your lap. They're painted in a uniform black, but there's a clownfish painted on his thumbnail. "They're super goth," you say.

"You think so?"

"The clownfish is a choice. Can I get one too?"

Eddie kisses your flushed cheek. "Yeah, babe. The nail tech tried to get me to have a seahorse–"

"Bit on the nose."

"Exactly," he laughs. "Exactly. But our day was awesome. She was such an angel, and she must've made everyone smile everywhere we went, she–" Eddie sits up, speaking with pride in every word. "We went to Wayne's, and the nail salon, and the video store because she said the movies aren't good for talking and she wanted to talk to me, and I asked her if she wanted to do anything else, and she said," —Eddie squeezes your thigh— "she'd do anything as long as we could have a hug."

"She has you in the palm of her hand," you laugh, looking up at him with eyes nearly closed.

Roan skips into the room, hands dripping water, and catapults herself over the armrest back into Eddie's lap. Without asking, she dries her hands on his t-shirt.

"Hello, princess," you say.

Roan drags the half-eaten bag of popcorn over to your side. "Hi. I saved you some."

You take a handful of popcorn and promptly spill it down the front of your shirt. Roan helps you by picking them off of you and eating them, cramming her mouth until her cheeks have chipmunked.

"Don't do that, you'll choke," Eddie says.

"I won't," she says, little bits of popcorn spraying him.

"Ro," he laughs, his hand held over her mouth, laughing so hard it wobbles her in his lap.

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daydream-cement · 10 months

Text

Yes, Mistress… (NSFW)

Larissa Weems x Reader

Not often do I write dominant Larissa… but when I do… holy shit.

Authors Note: Thank you sweet little baby @alexusonfire for your help with this <3 I am still under the belief that Larissa is a little sub but this was fun to write.

TW: derogation, restraints, dom!larissa, praise, toys, face sitting, and body worship

Hands. It felt like there were hands everywhere. Everything was far too overwhelming, but you were no longer in control. All you could do is take what you were given.

It was late afternoon when Larissa texted you: New outfit for you in my top drawer. I expect it to be on when I arrive home.

Immediately you felt that familiar ache in your abdomen. You were going to be a needy mess by the time she walked in the front door. You wasted no time in texting Larissa back: Yes, mistress…

Your homework was left scattered about the living room, knowing it would be more important to be dressed for the headmistress if she were to come home early. Making your way upstairs, you ducked into the headmistress’s bedroom, tossing your phone on the bed before searching her top drawer for your new lingerie. A thin white box rested at the top of Larissa’s underwear drawer.

Your eyes found your name scrawled across the top of a small card. Flipping the card over, you examined the note the headmistress had left you:

baby,

I expect you to be dressed and in that bed waiting for me, darling.

-larissa

Leaving the card discarded on the dresser, you throw open the box and reveal the baby pink lingerie Larissa had purchased for you. While you had many sets of lingerie from the shapeshifter, this one was entirely unique in its lacy hearts decorating the teddy bodysuit. It even included garters and a pair of underwear that you quickly noticed were missing the crotch.

Glancing to the clock, you noticed you had just over 15 minutes before the blonde arrived home. You dressed rapidly, struggling with the way the front of the bodice crisscrossed.

You were always happy to dress up for the headmistress, but something about wearing lingerie made you extremely bashful. Sprawling out in Larissa’s bed, you recline into the pillows and take a deep breath as you try to relax. While you weren’t exactly sure of what the headmistress had planned, you were sure it would involve you submitting to her power.

You close your eyes and try to picture all of the filthy things Larissa had done to you in the past. Perhaps she would use the rabbit on you until you could barely speak or maybe her hand would be planted around your neck as she forced every inch of her biggest strap into your cunt.

“Oh… Look at my pretty little baby.”

The shapeshifter’s voice drew your eyes open and you sucked in a breath at the sight of her body. She must have begun undressing when she entered the home. Her blouse was almost completely unbuttoned, revealing her breasts contained within pretty black lace bra. You were mesmerized as her hands pulled her blouse loose where it had been tucked into her tight skirt.

“Rissa…”

Larissa wasn’t looking to interrupt your admiration, so she wordlessly walked towards you, allowing pieces of clothing to follow in her wake. First her blouse fell to the floor, followed by her skirt. Your mouth watered at the way the skirt hitched around her hips, knowing it was her curves that allowed everything to cling perfectly in all the right places.

She paused at the bedside, leaning across the cushioning of the mattress and holding her chin in her hand. “Let’s get these legs spread open, hm? Get your hands all tied up? We can’t have you touching yourself without my say so…”

“Mmm…” Your whimper was uncontrollable, assuming your face would end up buried in the mattress while she cuffed your hands and legs to the spreader bar. You could physically feel the wetness growing between your legs at the mention of being tied up.

“Use your manners…” Larissa whispered, crawling onto the bed and over your body. Her face tucked itself in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply before feeling entirely overwhelmed by having you near. She slumped back on the bed next to you, needy hands dragged you on top of herself.

With a hand on the back of your neck, she roughly pulled your face to hers. Larissa’s lips captured yours in a hungry kiss and you felt her growl as her hands wandered over your body, squeezing your thighs, sides, and breasts with desperate aggression.

“Do you want it, baby? If you want it, then you have to tell me…” Larissa parted the kiss and grabbed your face harshly, squeezing your cheeks with a dark look in her eyes that made your breath hitch.

At first, all you could do was whimper and roll your hips down against the headmistress. This only resulted in a swift and stern verbal punishment from the dominant blone, her grip on your cheeks tightening. “Did you forget to speak already? Stupid little slut… I haven’t even begun punishing that pussy and you can’t even think straight, hm?”

“Sorry…”

The headmistress released your face with a light shove and brought both of her hands down on your thighs, giving them a gentle rub and squeeze. “Sorry, what?”

“Sorry, mistress.”

“That’s a good girl.” The headmistress cooed, the gentle movements of her hands along your thighs coming dangerously close to your center. She would graze her index fingers along your entrance before sweeping them downwards once again.

The blonde was relishing in the feeling of your hips on hers, especially the feeling of your dampening cunt on her skin. She enjoyed the sensation so much that she began guiding your hips to grind against her abdomen. “I have been thinking about playing with this sweet pussy all day…”

“I missed you. I want- I want you to play with me…”

The shapeshifter’s guidance of your hips paused and tightened her grip on your flesh. From the glint in her eye, you knew you had misspoke. “Oh? You want me to play with you? Is that what you want?”

You realize your mistake. You had made a demand rather than asking Larissa to play with you.

“Please. Please play with me.”

The smirk that played on Larissa’s lips was dangerous. It was a look you knew far too well. She would be incredibly unforgiving as she pushed you through orgasm after orgasm. “When you ask so nicely, how can I say no?”

The blonde returned you back to your position against the pillows and slid off the bed in search of restraints and a vibrator.

When the headmistress emerged from her closet, in one hand she was carrying black leather loops attached by a longer band, and the other held her favorite pink wand vibrator. “Are you ready for me, baby? I could feel how wet you were getting when you sat on me.”

“Mhmm, yes. I’m ready…”

The shapeshifter crawled back onto the bed, beginning to slip one of your legs through the loops as she spoke so gently, “Do you like these panties, honey? I thought they would be so nice when mommy wants to use you like the little free use fucktoy you are.”

“Thank you for the new clothes. I l-like them very much…”

The headmistress positioned the second loop around your other thigh and tugged on the band connecting them. When used correctly, the band would be placed behind your neck and two loops around your thighs would spread your legs wide open. “Such good manners. I am so proud of you… my little slut.”

She offered you the band so she could position it over your head and you showed a moment’s hesitation, causing her demeanor to sour. Before she could say a word, you tried to make up for your lack of enthusiasm by begging, “Please... Please touch me. I’ll be good I promise.”

“You think you would be more grateful for the love and attention I give you, darling. I spend my days thinking of you and all the things I want to do to you.”

She pushed the band up over your head, sweeping you hair away from your neck so as to not let the stretch of the band yank at your hair. The shapeshifter did not inquire deeper as to your comfort, rather she gave the back of your thighs a push, encouraging you to have them as widely spread as possible.

“Oh, just look at you…” The headmistress’s fingers glided over your damp and swollen sex.

It all seemed too gentle for a moment. The pads of her fingers found your clit and circled it softly, humming to herself in enjoyment. You allowed yourself to close your eyes, enjoying the tender loving the headmistress was providing you.

The relaxation ended when you felt a firm swat to your pussy, followed by a second, and a third.

The spanking continued and you could feel her getting drunk on the power she had over you, “Who does this belong to? Tell me darling. Who owns this pretty little cunt?”

You suck in a breath and nearly choke out your reply. “You do…You do...”

How could this feel already so overwhelming when she hadn’t even drawn you to orgasm yet?

“You wanna make me proud, baby?”

“Yes…”

“Do you really, honey?” The headmistress’s touch turned gentle once more and she dipped her index and middle finger into your slit while her thumb circled your clit.

The differing sensations were almost too much to handle and you knew all too well this was just the beginning. Your eyes squeezed shut and your chin turned towards the ceiling as you gasped, “Ahh, yes. Yes- Yes, please. I wanna make you proud so badly…”

“No cumming without my permission. Okay, darling? Promise me.

The shapeu used some of the slickness from your heat against your clit and you felt yourself going lightheaded from the pleasure. You felt willing to agree to anything to have her keep going. “Hhg… yes… yes. Okay. I promise. I promise.”

The only sound you heard in response was the vibrator turning on. The headmistress’s fingers left your cunt and the overwhelming stimulation of the vibrator took their place.

The blonde gave you a few seconds to adjust to the new sensation before starting to gently move it up and down your cunt. She was looking to tease you and make you fall apart at the seams, and who were you to deny such a beautiful woman her desires?

Every second you felt yourself coming closer to orgasm the vibrator moved away from your clit, teasing elsewhere. The aching desire that had built in your lower abdomen had your mind going numb - all you wanted was to be fucked senseless. You were far too invested in the headmistress’s teasing to beg for the strap, however.

Your pussy was red and swollen from the spankings and your own intense desire. Larissa was smiling to herself as her fingers ghosted over your cunt, delighted with her handiwork. When she retracted her hand, she moved the vibrator back across your pussy, focusing on the clit just long enough to cause you to gasp before moving it away again.

You had no clue how much time had passed, but your whole body ached from the position you were forced into by the leg restraints.

As you were pushed closer to the edge of orgasm, your hands absentmindedly trailed downward, seeking to control the vibrator against your clit. Each time you did, the headmistress warned you to ‘keep your hands to yourself.” You felt as though you couldn’t form a coherent thought due to your need to cum.

Larissa kept going and going and going. You would be edged to the point of pain and tears if you didn’t ask to cum, but you were holding out. You wanted to prove to the headmistress that you could take her punishments without complaint or yielding. A silly thing to want considering how often Larissa was able to have her way with you in the past after you yielded without hesitation.

Your legs were beginning to close involuntarily from the overstimulation, earning a scold from the shapeshifter, “Tsk, tsk, tsk. We can’t have that. I know you are happy to have these legs open for me, so why don’t you act like it.”

With tears building in your eyes, you pry open your legs, planting a hand on either of your knees to keep them open. There was an orgasm building that you could no longer deny to yourself or the headmistress, and you would rather not cum without permission.

“Pl-Pl-ease. I wann-wanna cum. Pleasepleaseplease…”

“Oh? You wanna cum, baby? You wanna cum for me? Be a good little girl and cum all over my fingers, okay?” At her final suggestion, you felt her fingers slide into you and she began to fuck you as the vibrator pressed directly to your clit.

You stopped barring yourself from orgasm and the sensation came suddenly and harshly, causing your entire body to writhe and shake. The orgasm felt long and drawn out, but Larissa still wasn’t stopping… After all, that’s what a safeword is for.

The headmistress closed her eyes when she felt the walls of your cunt clench around your fingers, awaiting the sticky slickness that would soon coat her fingers. She seemed to press the vibrator firmer to your clit, wanting to watch you beg her for reprieve.

“Ahh.” You twisted and turned away from the vibrator, but you still hadn’t used the safeword. She continued with both of her movements, even firmer this time to prevent you from avoiding the stimulation.

“Fuck, I love this pussy. I love you my sweet darling.” Larissa cooed, her pupils dilated as she watched you unraveling before her.

That was all you needed for another orgasm to wrack your body, only this one felt different. It was far more overwhelming and immediately after, you wondered if you had wet the bed from the wetness Larissa had caused. Regardless of how proud the headmistress was of herself of getting you to squirt, she kept going, fucking you deeper as the flick of her thumb increased the vibrator speed.

That’s when it became all too much. An unexpected third orgasm immediately followed the second. You were lightheaded with tears beginning to stream down your face and you immediately knew you wouldn’t be able to handle any more.

Pushing your hands between your legs, you tried to push away the vibeator, but Larissa scolded you once more, “Use your words and keep your hands to yourself.”

“Please, I- Artic. Artic.” You pleaded, using the safeword without any further thought and knowing full well Larissa would stop in her tracks once she heard it.

The blonde indeed stopped immediately and swiftly excited her dominant role in exchange of one that was gentle and soft. “Are you okay, darling? Was it too much? Did I go too hard?” Her hands worked diligently to free you of the restraints and pull you to her once you were free.

By the way the headmistress pulled you against your chest, the best response you could give was a shake of your head. Larissa’s grip around you was intense, but you couldn’t protest against the homey feeling of your cheek against her breast and her hands rubbing circles into your back.

“Mm… you took it so good baby. You made me so proud.”

“I love you..”

“I love you too, darling.” The headmistress spoke in a low register as she pushed her face into your hair. There was a deep breath and a long sigh of loving obsession, “Now… there is something I need you to do for me.”

You moved your face from its pleasant place between her breasts to look up at her, inquiring further with your eyes.

“Lay on your back. It’s my turn to get off.” The shapeshifter’s voice was thick with desire as her hand pushed against your sternum.

You lay back against the bed, never one to refuse an opportunity to pleasure the blonde. She sat up next to you and allowed her eyes to sweep over your body as she began removing her bra. “You’re so pretty, baby. I’m so ready to sit on that pretty face.”

Your mouth watered at the notion. Tentatively you reached out to stroke the soft flesh of Larissa’s thigh, but you received no disciplinary response, rather she looked quite endeared by your loving touch. The blonde noticed your hungry gaze and smiled, offering you a different way to please her, “Or would you rather worship my body, darling?” Larissa toyed with her breasts as she asked her question, knowing you had no way of resisting.

Your nod was frantic and you immediately rolled onto your stomach and crawled to where the headmistress sat on her knees. You hadn’t asked for permission, but you felt Larissa’s dominant resolve slipping as her own cravings for your attention grew. As you moved closer, she leaned back on the king mattress and spread her legs out before her, welcoming you to pleasure her how you saw fit.

Eye level was her pretty tummy and thighs, and you felt that place would be the perfect starting point. When you arrived at a lips distance from her tanned thighs, you recognized the familiar lighting strike patterns of her stretch marks. Decades of shapeshifting left their toll, and you couldn’t be more in love with the way the stretch marks littered her skin. Larissa always felt defensive about you staring and paying attention to them, but you chose to trace them with your tongue anyway.

This time she restrained herself from pushing your head away. Instead she buried her hand in your hair and tilted her head back towards the ceiling, allowing herself to enjoy your gentle worship. Larissa eventually laid back on the bed and closed her eyes, a gentle hum at the back of her throat.

You took your time with every inch of skin, slowly working your way up to her hips and then to her stomach. Your hands trailed behind lovingly squeezing palmfuls of Larissa’s thighs, eventually looping up to her underwear to drag them down her legs.

The shapeshifter whimpered when your hand’s shifted to grip her hips, earning an upward glance from you. That’s when you became entranced by her beautiful breasts and you knew you needed a taste - after all, it had been hours since you touched them last.

Your hands grasped at her tits before your mouth found them. The headmistress gasped at the suddenness of the groping and once you had your mouth on one nipple, the aggressiveness of your actions slowed.

You tried your best to pay equal attention to both nipples while gently biting and sucking at the sides and underneath of her breasts (knowing full well the headmistress only wanted marks where they couldn’t be seen). When her boobs weren’t in your mouth, you pinched and squeezed at her nipples.

You could tell your ministrations were working her up when her hips adjusted themselves so her legs could curl around yours. Her body quickly shifted you to the side and she began rutting against your hip. From the sensation of drooling all over her tits and her grinding against your side, you were worried you may cum a fourth time.

“I.. Uh- I need- I need you to touch me. I need you to make me cum.”

The notion of the shapeshifter begging for you to touch her drove you mad. You were completely ID driven as you stopped drooling over her breasts to lay on your back, your hands pulling and grabbing on the headmistress’s arms and thighs as a way of guiding her to sit on your face. “Please, I want to taste you. Please let me taste you.”

Before the headmistress straddled your face, she took her time and hovered her face above yours and grabbing you by the chin. She held you still and lowered her lips near yours. Instead of kissing you, Larissa’s tongue protruded from her mouth and licked across your lips before finally placing a sloppy kiss to your lips. Your head was still spinning from the kiss when her lips finally left yours and you felt the familiar warmth of her thighs on either side of your face.

There was no hesitation in your arms looping around her thighs, drawing her cunt against your mouth. You had to audibly moan against her clit when you felt her wetness spreading around your mouth and down your chin.

The headmistress was in desperate need of the friction of your tongue against her clit. She quickly began grinding her hips down against your mouth. The shift of her hips became so frantic that she had to lean forward and brace herself on the bed with her hands.

She was only focused on getting off as the movement of her hips almost made it hard to breathe at times. Regardless if you may be punished, you give her thighs a squeeze, pulling her down a little harder to prevent her from moving. Larissa growled in frustration, pausing her movements and offering up more control to you.

You quickly became drunk off her pussy, losing yourself in eating her out.

The shapeshifter’s desperate moans were music to your ears as was the limitless praise she offered. She spoke so rapidly - it was almost as if she was trying to state as many sweet and possessive things she could before she came, “Oh, fuck! You are my little angel. I love you. Fuck, I love you. You are my sweet little slut aren’t you. You are mine. Ahhh, all mine.”

The rocking of the headmistress’s hips against your face began again. Now she worked them in a circular motion, her orgasm within reach.

Her hands worked their way into your hair and you allowed your hands to begin roaming about her body, allowing her to grind her hips against your face at any speed she desired. The grinding of the headmistress’s hips only sped up for a few seconds when she was suddenly rocked by an orgasm that drew a loud cry from the blonde.

She slid off you, and fell to your side, needing a moment to catch her breath.

“I love you, darling...” Through all of her elation, the headmistress placed a hand on your cheek, tilting your face up so your eyes could meet hers, “Time for you to shower while I make you dinner. I need you to be very well rested when I have you cockwarm that new toy all day tomorrow.”

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mojogojocasahouse · 3 months

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Literally can't get the thought out of my head that Gojo would fall for his hairdresser because they're the only person who touches him consistently. So, here it is.

Satoru Gojo x f!hairdresser reader

C: Gojo POV, fluff, a little sprinkle of angst

He didn’t mean to fall in love. He really didn’t.

In fact, Satoru Gojo had sworn it off entirely in his third year of high school outside a KFC in Shinjuku. That evening, with every step back towards Jujutsu Tech, his tears turned to cement around his heart, barricading it behind a fortress never to be broken. That had been the plan anyway.

But you’d foiled it.

It was just a series of unfortunate coincidences that had led him straight to the very depths of hell that felt way more like heaven than he wanted to admit. His normal barber had been out of town, but his hair was growing too long against his neck. It itched as it began to curl behind his ears, it reminded him of his teenage years, and Megumi had started poking fun at him. So, he’d wandered into the salon by the apartment he barely used and asked if anyone had time for a quick cut, an action he’d thought was inconsequential.

There was no way to decipher exactly what it was that had left him slack-jawed and boneless in those thirty minutes. Maybe it had been how your fingers combed through his wet hair so gently, swirling against his scalp and loosening tension he swore was permanent. The way you’d softly turned and tipped his chin as you inspected your work and perfected every unruly tuft of snowy hair, your gaze too focused on the task to see how utterly enraptured he’d been. He’d caught you on the tips of your toes, his height still too great even with the chair as low as it allowed, so he’d slowly slunk down, his spine curling uncomfortably. He hadn’t cared about the ache. There was also a good chance he’d fallen when you mussed up the finished product, smiling into your eyes as you complimented how well he pulled off the messy look, your palms pressed to his head as you held him. Held him.

He’d never gone back to his barber again

After a year of monthly cuts and trims, he upped his frequency. One night after a mission that had tested every ounce of his resolve and patience, he’d wandered in and pathetically asked for just a quick wash. He’d noted how your eyebrows furrowed in what looked like concern, a warm hand on his back leading him to the waiting area, and a promise that you’d be no longer than ten minutes allowing his chest to loosen just enough to breathe.

Soothing circles over his temples had eased his headache, the warm water and your methodical movements lulling him into tranquility. You’d taken extra care, kneading down his neck and feathering over his eyes until he’d been half asleep, his tension swirling down the drain. Never in his life had he wanted to kiss someone as badly as in the moment his eyes fluttered open to your smiling face.

He was never the same after that.

Today is like every other, Megumi at his side as they make their way to the cafe after a mission the kid wasn’t supposed to go on. Whatever, he’d be starting at Jujutsu Tech in a few years, there was no reason to not give him a headstart.

His height gives him the advantage, and when he spots you across the street he practically sends Megumi crashing to the sidewalk as he whirls to hide his face, fumbling with the glasses in his pocket and ripping the white bandages covering his eyes off his face.

“What the hell is your problem?” Megumi barks, scowling in annoyance as Satoru slides his round black lenses onto his thin, pointed nose, “Why’re you changing your glasses?”

“Satoru?” Your voice sings out to him even on the crowded Tokyo streets, he can hear it clear as day.

You’re right in front of him now, hair shining in the sun, eyes twinkling with that happy little grin he sees in his dreams. It’s unfair how happy you always look to see him. The thought that you might be is always his undoing.

“Hi,” he greets sheepishly, chastising himself for how stupid he knows he sounds, “What’re you–”

Whatever idiotic sentence he was set to spew is cut short when you reach up toward his head, and he doesn’t even realize he’s closing the distance your toes can’t reach. A little gasp of shock gets caught in Megumi’s throat as his face twists in confusion when you make contact, plucking a small pink cherry blossom petal from its icy entrapment. He can’t stop himself when his hand catches yours as you pull away, his eyes locked on the fragile, blushing scale between your fingers.

His technique had been active, he couldn’t even recall switching it off. But he had, clearly. Had it become an instinctual flip at the mere sight of you, a second nature? Warmth blossoms in his chest and radiates outward, it’s like the feeling of sun on a cold winter day. Even without looking at your face, he knows you’re confused, who wouldn’t be? You don’t understand the weight of this, no one does except the teenager standing behind him looking on at the scene.

Spring becomes summer when your other hand covers his, it’s shaking ever so slightly and he can’t bear the thought of looking at your face. Are you afraid? He couldn’t blame you. But he forgets that worry when you whisper his name again, nothing but a song in the breeze so quiet it only has the strength to reach his ears. He’s kissing your knuckles before his brain catches up, it’s too lost in thought, in you, in the smell of your floral perfume he’s come to associate with comfort and security. And when you don’t pull away he considers that perhaps his life doesn’t have to be shrouded in darkness.

“Hey,” the gruff voice of Megumi groans out, “How about instead of being a creep you just ask her to dinner?”

Masterlist

#satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo fanfic #gojo satoru fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk fanfic #jjk fluff #jjk drabble

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idyllic-ghost · 10 months

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Title: Wear sunscreen!

Pairing: sugar daddy!Mingyu x sugar baby!reader

Warnings: dom/sub dynamics, reader calling mingyu daddy (but like only twice), head (masc receiving, implied fem receiving), praise, degradation, slight brat taming, not proof read !!!!

Genre: smut, pure filth

Synopsis: you forget to put on sunscreen and make your hot sugar daddy do it for you!

Rating: 18+

A/N: this is for @multi-kpop-fanfics, i hope you enjoy🫶 also, excuse the silly banner, i was having fun

MDNI

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"Darling, did you remember to put on sunscreen?" Mingyu's voice woke you up from your slumber.

"Shit..." you mumble.

You had fallen asleep in the shadow but now you were halfway covered with sun - and Mingyu was casting most of that shadow. He was standing right in front of you, wearing black shorts and a white polo shirt that made him look like a hot sugar daddy - which is what he was. In fact, right now you were on his yacht and being paid to be on vacation with him.

"You forgot, didn't you?" He chuckled and grabbed the sunscreen bottle nearby.

"I was going to, but it felt so nice to lay down." You sighed and turned in your chair. "We were up and running all morning, you know."

"I know, baby, but you have to be careful," he crouched down in front of you.

"Could you put it on for me, honey?" You pouted in an attempt to persuade him so that you could keep laying down.

"Of course, I was about to offer," he said.

The part you loved most about Mingyu was how willing he was to please you. He loved seeing a big satisfied grin on your face, and you adored his pampering. This entire long weekend had been filled with pampering and big smiles.

Mingyu had brought you to a nice hotel, where you had spent an entire day and night together - doing nothing except laying in bed for the entire time. Then you had gone sightseeing and, if you hadn't stopped him from time to time, he would've bought you every souvenir that you even so much as looked at.

Finally, this morning you had walked down to the docks and gotten on his yacht. The plan was to stay there for the rest of the day. You had brought food and drinks, enough to last for the entire day and then some.

However, you had come to the yacht fully clothed - and hadn't bothered with full-body sunscreen that morning. Now that you were in a bikini, felt that the extra protection was of the utmost importance - you just didn't want to have to do it yourself.

Mingyu sat down beside you on the sun lounger and squirted out some sunscreen on his hand. You laid on your stomach and untied the string to your bikini top, so that he could get his hands all over your back without interruption - and maybe because you wanted to tease him as well.

"Thank you, Gyu," you said as he began massaging your back.

You heard him chuckle at the sweet nickname. It was one of his favorites, which you knew very well and frequently used to your advantage.

Mingyu's hands were softly pressing down on your back muscles as he spread the sunscreen across your skin. Involuntary noises escaped your lips at the feeling - soft whimpers, quiet moans, and pleads of "yes" and "right there". It wasn't as if you were completely unaware of what you were doing. Mingyu's hands did feel good, but maybe you were exaggerating just a little. When he finished putting the sunscreen on your back and arms he stood up, presumably to go wash his hands.

"Gyu?" You leaned on your elbows and looked over at him.

Your bikini top had fallen off, laying on the chair beneath you, and since your arms were barely covering anything he could see the profile outline of your tits. Mingyu looked over at you, clearly having trouble looking you in the eye.

"Yes, darling?" His ears were burning red - as if he wasn't getting turned on before, you were making it harder and harder for him to resist.

"You forgot the rest!" you giggled and wiggled your ass slightly to get his attention.

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The sunscreen bottle had been thrown to the side once Mingyu's hands had been all across your body, making sure to cover every inch. Now you were kneeling in front of him, his hard cock on display in front of your face. Mingyu slapped his big length gently against the side of your face.

"Gonna repay me for helping you out, baby?" he asked with a lazy grin.

"Yes, daddy," you mumbled and captured your bottom lip between your teeth.

The sight of his cock always had your mouth watering - and now, with the open waters all around you where anyone could happen to sail past, it made you drench your bikini bottoms as well. You smiled when you saw him pumping his cock a few times, preparing himself for you. You put your tongue out and pressed it against the base of his cock, licking a stripe up to his tip to put his entire cock in your mouth.

"Take all of it, baby, that's right," he breathed out.

You hummed at his praise, taking him deeper and deeper until the tip of your nose met with his lower stomach. Mingyu groaned, threading his fingers through your hair to hold you in place for a moment. Your hands perched on his thick thighs, gently clawing at them. When he finally let go of your hair, you pulled off of him with a gasp. A string of saliva connected your tongue to the reddened tip of his cock. Your eyes found him, looking for praise for your good efforts.

"Pretty baby," he hummed, "You look so beautiful when your mouth is stuffed with my cock. You know that, don't you?"

You hummed and straightened your back slightly, ready to take him in your mouth again. This time you started sucking on his tip, keeping eye contact with him while lewd whines and sloppy noises vibrated around him. When you began bobbing your head up and down, you finally got to hear Mingyu let out a moan. It made your cunt throb for some attention. Even though you should know better, you always enjoyed being a brat. One of your hands went down to your clit, and you started rubbing your pussy on top of the material of your bikini. Mingyu was busy throwing his head back, and it wasn't until you were moaning around his cock that you got his attention.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked as he pulled your head off his cock by your hair.

"Don't you want me to feel good, Gyu?" You pouted and didn't move your hand from your aching cunt. "Can you hear how wet I am? You should take it as a compliment, baby"

You grinned and put your head on one of his thighs. At first he only watched as you whored yourself out for him; moaning loudly, grinding against your hand, and shutting your eyes tight in pleasure. After some time, you were surprised that he wasn't stopping you. You opened your eyes and saw that he was staring at you. It had gone far enough where you were about to cum, and him looking at you so disapprovingly, but even more aroused, only made you come closer to the edge.

"Are you gonna cum, darling?" His voice was laced with lust.

"Yeah..." You clawed at his thigh. "I'm so close, daddy-"

Mingyu suddenly ripped your hand away from your crotch, ruining the orgasm you were about to approach. You whined and pleaded, but his grip was strong around your wrist.

"Brats don't get to cum," he said and stood up. "But if you can show me you're not a brat, I'll make you cum as many times as you want. Can you show me what a good slut you are, baby? Gonna let me fuck your face?"

You nodded feverishly, and opened your mouth. Tasting his cock again made you close your eyes and moan, but he stopped you by pulling on your hair.

"You're gonna look at me while I fuck your face, yeah?"

After humming and trying to nod, Mingyu began softly thrusting into your mouth. You could handle this, you thought to yourself, but soon enough he had you gagging, saliva dripping down your chin and tears flooding in your eyes. His thrusts were sharp, and all you could do was grip onto his thighs. If you even so much as thought of moving them to where you needed them, he'd pull on your hair and remind you that "good sluts don't touch themselves without permission".

When Mingyu got close to the edge, he began twitching in your mouth and growing more sloppy in his movements. You urged him on by moaning around his cock. The vibrations was enough to make him cum, as he soon after shot his load down your throat. When he had finished he pulled you off his cock and you slumped down. Mingyu was immediately by your side, cooing at how well you did and how good you are.

"Can you make me cum now?" Was all you whispered out.

Mingyu grinned widely, picking you up and putting you back on the sun lounger. He made himself comfortable between your thighs.

"How many can you take?" he asked and ripped off the rest of your bikini.

#svthub #kim mingyu #seventeen smut #kvanity #mingyu smut #mingyu x reader

755 notes · View notes

megamindsecretlair · 6 months

Text

A Seduction at Midnight

Pairing: Vampire!Tyrone x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. FILTH! PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (fem and male receiving), dirty talk, praise kink, blood play, cum play, possession kink, voyeurism, public sex kink, all consensual. Referring to female anatomy as "she". AU Tyrone.

Summary: You are invited to one of Tyrone's exclusive parties. You aren't entirely sure what to expect but you are thrilled at the thought of what he has planned.

Word Count: 4,705k

This has been turned into a series. Catch up here and make sure to read the prequel! Midnight Sin Masterlist

A/N: Ya'll sicka me yet? LOL. Happy Halloweek indeed! This is a fun challenge. This made me so fucking hot. I hope it does for you as well. This was SO fun. Can you tell Vamps are my fave? Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios!

Taglist: @planetblaque @dayjlovesromance @sevikasblackgf @melaninpov @amyhennessyhouse @henneseyhoe @honeyoriginalz @justheretostan @black-fairy3 @superhoeva @jarfulloftears @hereformiles @montysstuffs @westside-rot @blackerthings @blowmymbackout @euphoric05 @miyuhpapayuh @nicolexnight @8ttached @judymfmoody @wakandas-vibranium @soft-persephone @justabovewater20 @notapradagurl7 @mcotton0928 @soapjay @heyauntieeee @theyscreamsannii @mybonafidefeelings @eggnox @honeytoffee @thadelightfulone @tranquilfandomer @kindofaintrovert @l-auteuse

The glossy black envelope was clutched in your hands. You read and reread the invitation plenty of times. The words echoed in your mind as you walked up the stone steps. Your heels clicked softly.

At the heavy, massive doors before you, there stood a bodyguard dressed in an all black suit. He held out his hand for the invitation and you handed it over. You stuffed your nerves into your back pocket. You’d never done anything like this before, but you weren’t going to let your nerves ruin it.

He scanned the invitation and then murmured something in the mic at his shirt cuff. The mask you wore was tied neatly to your face, but unaccustomed to such a thing, you fought the urge to fidget.

The doors swung open on loud hinges, wide enough for you to slip through. The foyer area was dark, lit only by ambient lighting and strategically placed candelabras. The flames danced against the cold marble walls.

A sea of masks greeted you as other members walked around the first floor, floating in and out of rooms. Clinking glassware drew your attention to the right side. You walked through the sweeping archway.

You couldn’t help looking at the other party goers. Wondering how many of them were like him. Was everyone here human? Were they all vampires? The thrill of not knowing made you shiver.

You moved through the silent waiters all wearing black masks with elongated noses, reminiscent of the plague doctor masks. The men had slicked back hair or puffy afros, white shirts and black ties, holding delicate trays aloft. The women wore sensible skirts, button down shirts, and matching black ties.

You snagged a flute of wine from a passing waiter, needing something to calm your racing heart. Everyone spoke in low murmurs. You glanced around at the elaborate masks. Some were decorated finely, like works of art. Others were more industrial with little to none adornment.

An itchy feeling crawled between your shoulder blades. Everyone’s eyes seemed to snap towards you, to the way you moved around them. Maybe it was your imagination but it made you self-conscious regardless.

Your skirt swooshed about your ankles as you flitted from room to room, pointedly ignoring the way conversation slowed when you neared. The way eyes tracked you. The way the light played with shadows and you weren’t sure what you were looking at.

You bit your painted lip. You deposited your empty glass on the tray of a passing waiter. The pressure of being stared at was too much. You shouldn’t have come. You nearly laughed. This was all such bullshit.

“A vision,” a deep, soothing voice carried from the right side of you. You turned to the source and found him staring at you through a Phantom mask half obscuring his face. It called attention to his sensual lips and you took an extra breath.

He was delicious, standing there in a close fitting suit, tailored to every inch of him. He wore no jacket, opting instead to stand there in his long sleeved black shirt and black vest, brushed silver buttons catching the light. A silver chain hung from a pocket on his vest.

He smiled, flashing a bit of his fang. The sharp teeth sent a sliver of desire through you and you squeezed your thighs together as you drank him in. The same way you ogled him, he studied you.

His eyes gazed lazily over you. He circled you. His fingers trailed behind him as he passed around you, crossing over the skirt of your dress and up to your arms. When his warm touch touched bare skin, you gasped. Everything you had thought about vampires was void. He surpassed every stereotype.

He stopped behind you. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up and caught some faint breeze running through the mansion. A primal part of you recognized that you let a predator behind you. He sidled up closer, pressing a kiss there behind your ear.

He purposefully ran his sharp fangs along your neck, spreading kisses along your exposed shoulders. You sighed softly, rolling your neck, until you remembered that you were in full view of others.

Your eyes snapped open, taking you out of the moment. Those in the immediate area openly gawked at you. Tyrone kept up his kisses, his tongue darting out every so often to lick your skin.

Could he smell the blood running in your veins? Was he salivating at the thought of it rushing just below the surface?

“Tyrone?” You asked.

“Do you not want them to see? How gorgeous you are?” He said against your skin, his lips tickling your neck. You curled into him. His hands slid up your waist, pulling you back against him. A breath escaped you, feeling his hardening length against your backside.

Spurred on by some carnal instinct, you rubbed him over his pant legs. He chuckled darkly. “Already need it?” He asked.

You didn’t come here for the free drinks. You turned around to face him. From his neat cornrows to his suit, to his polished shoes, he looked good enough to eat. His deep ebony skin invited a taste. You licked your lips just imagining it.

“I need you,” you said.

His hands ghosted down your arms, rubbing away the pebbles on your skin, and grasped your hand. He brought it to his lips, his eyes focused on you. Before his lips could connect to your hand, he flipped it over. He inhaled the perfume you rubbed on your wrists. He placed a chaste kiss to the pulse in your wrist.

Fresh arousal escaped you. You’d never met anyone like him. He projected confidence and sensuality. Well, he’d had centuries to learn. When you first met him, you knew there was something special about him. It’d taken a lot of convincing to prove that he was what he said he was. Now you believed him. Here in his element, he moved like a king amongst peasants.

He stepped backwards, raising your hand to the other guests. “Our guest of honor has arrived, right on time,” he said to the crowd.

Low murmuring echoed throughout the room as people started to push and crowd into each other. Had he been serious about that?

You supposed so. Tyrone tugged you by the hand back toward the foyer. Between the staircases on either side, there was a long hallway. Masks split apart allowing you two to walk through.

Your pulse jumped in your throat. You were the center of attention and it was making you edgy. Dizzy with being on display. Your eyes scanned the paintings on the walls, all different impressionist depictions of Tyrone. All the different lives he lived. The time periods he moved through. The stories he could tell.

The low light gave each painting a sinister look though the scenes themselves weren’t dark. You think. He led you towards a room, opening the door for you and letting you enter first. Inside, a round bed sat in the middle of the room on a platform.

The room had windows on two sides and the other side of the glass was dark. An old grandfather clock was positioned in a corner of the room. The tick, tick, tick almost matched your heartbeat.

The windows gave you the illusion of privacy. But you heard the heels, swishing skirts, and squeaking shoes. You knew that the fifty or so people were filing past you, heading towards whatever room that was to watch.

Tyrone warned you what his parties were like. Still you begged to attend. He didn’t want you in that world. But then he shouldn’t have told you about them. He admitted to a morbid curiosity at your response. If you would reject that side of him.

Never. You wanted all of him. For as long as you could have him. This type of obsession you had with him was concerning. You weren’t an idiot. You asked him one day if he put a glamor or spell on you. He had chuckled, throwing his head back and exposing the length of his neck and baring his fangs. “No. I won’t ever do that to you. I’d rather have something else from you,” he had said.

“What?” You had asked.

“Surrender.”

That conversation flowed through your mind as you entered the room. The lights were still dim, multiple candelabras here as well. The sweet incense poured into the room, tickling your nose with its aroma.

The door slammed and locked behind you and you flinched. You stood in the middle of the room at the foot of the bed. Tyrone stood near the door, facing you with his hands in his pockets.

In the next blink, he was in front of you, hands cupping your face. His lips crashed against yours. His fangs scraped your bottom lip. You gasped and he pushed his tongue in, licking every inch of your mouth.

“I almost can’t bear to share you,” he said. “Should’ve ended this tradition.”

“They’d kill you,” you said and smiled.

“They could try,” he said and chuckled. His lips moved over yours, tasting and sighing into your mouth. Your hands gripped his vest, pulling him closer to you.

His body was as hard as marble. Solid. He was a steady presence. He turned you around roughly, one large hand grabbing around your middle and pulling you against him. He kissed up your neck and sucked in your earlobe.

“It’s just you and me,” he said.

You giggled. “You must think I’m some dainty little innocent,” you said. “I know what I’m doing.”

You stepped away from him and looked at him over your shoulder. His mask obscured half of his face, but the other half was set in a devious smirk. He unzipped your dress and let it drop. The silky material slipped down your sides and pooled at your feet.

Tyrone sucked in a breath. You didn’t wear anything underneath. You felt his gaze eat up the curve of your back, the globes of your ass, and the length of your legs. He held your hand and helped you step out of the circle of your dress. You leaned down to take care of your heels.

Tick, tick tick.

“Leave them on,” he said. He raised your hand to his lips and then moved you in front of the windows. He dropped your hand and moved away, telling you to give a show.

A quick sigh escaped you as you threw your head back and squared your shoulders. You twirled, letting those strangers see your naked body. It only emboldened you to dip your hips, rub your breasts, and put your arms up to stretch your back.

Tyrone chuckled. “You like to be watched,” he commented.

“I like to be watched by you.”

“Then come here,” he said. He opened his arms, a grin split his face. His fangs were long and sharp, giving him an otherworldly appearance. He was a devil made flesh, ready to hasten your descent into hell. You went to his side willingly.

He kissed you again, taking his time to explore your mouth. He walked you backwards, pushing you until the bed hit the back of your knees. He pushed you down and stood before you, looking down at your body.

You felt so sexy under his gaze. Your eyes dropped down to his pants. His dick strained against his zipper, slightly pulsing. You reached for him, but he moved at the last second.

“Did I give you permission to touch me?” He asked.

“N-no,” you stammered. You were caught off guard. He had a strong streak in him, but to use that tone…your pussy fluttered. Aching to be filled or played with. Touched by him.

He gave you a series of directions to move where he wanted you. You moved to the pillows at the head of the bed. You molded your back to its plush softness and widened your legs, your heels digging into the mattress.

Tick, tick, tick.

Tyrone cocked his head and walked around the bed. He grabbed one of your wrists and pulled, silk wrapping around your arm. He repeated it for the other side. “Tyrone?”

“I don’t think I can trust you to obey me,” he said.

“I can be good,” you said.

He chuckled. “Not for this part, you can’t,” he said and ran a finger down your cheek. “I don’t want to have to punish you this early,” he said.

You shivered at his deep voice, the soothing cadence relaxing you better than anything could. The promise of punishment wasn’t an unwelcome thought. Your mind wandered to what his punishment would look like.

He returned to his original position at the foot of the bed. He stared, not at you, but at your exposed pussy. He could see the slick from where he stood. He ran his tongue across his fangs. He undid the cufflinks of his dress shirt and stored them in his pocket. He rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, baring his forearms.

A vein ran the length of his forearm and your mouth turned dry. You wanted to touch him. He didn’t mention shit about not being able to. You pulled against the silk scarves and he smiled. “Knew yo ass couldn’t sit still,” he said.

“It’s not fair,” you pouted.

“It’ll never be fair between us,” he said.

You sighed and conceded the point. He was right. He had all of the power, experience, and the gift of patience. You were a human and slow and needy as fuck.

He crawled onto the bed, fully clothed, and smoothed his tie under his vest. He gripped your knees and widened your legs. He inspected your pussy, angling his head to view it from different sides.

“You are a treasure,” he said.

He watched as your pussy clenched. You were so empty. You needed to be full. Not whatever fucking game this was.

“Untie me, baby. Let me touch you,” you said. You gyrated on the bed, trying to entice him.

He flashed his fangs. He didn’t answer you. Instead, he got on his elbows and settled his face close to your core.

“Hm, she lookin’ a little lonely,” Tyrone said.

“She is!” You said.

Tyrone kissed your pussy and you jerked off of the bed. You were horny and he wasn’t helping. He lifted your legs and placed them over his shoulders. Your heels dug into his back and he hissed in pleasure.

He wrapped his lips around your clit, suckling it and flattening his tongue against it. “Oh fuck,” you moaned. It was quiet in the room so your words bounced off of the walls. Here too, there were paintings of him. All of it focused on the bed, focused on you. That made you remember the windows and how there was a room full of anonymous people, wearing masks, and seeing Tyrone pleasure you.

Tick, tick, tick.

You moaned and twirled your hips, trying to get Tyrone to move. He wasn’t one to be rushed. He kept up a slow, sensual pursuit of your pleasure. He drew his tongue up and down your pussy, from your entrance to your clit.

The sounds you made reverberated right back to you. You sounded needy to your own ears. Tyrone moaned around your pussy. “So fucking good. So fucking delicious,” he moaned. His moans caused your own. You pulled at the restraints but it was no use. You leaned forward so you could watch him.

His eyes were closed, eyebrows furrowed as he licked and sucked and tasted you. The stirrings of your orgasm steadily built inside of you, cresting the surface. Your thighs tightened around his head.

Tyrone slowed down and moved away from your clit, drawing circles around your entrance.

“Oh, please baby. Please,” you begged. “Don’t tease me,” you said.

He only chuckled and kept up what he was doing. Your orgasm went away and then he went back to work, slowly building it up again. Your body shivered. Sweat broke out over your skin, drenching you and the pillows beneath you.

Your bottom lip quivered as you watched Tyrone give and take. Made your legs shake and then retreat until your body relaxed. “Oh fuck, please, please,” you moaned.

“Hm, let them hear you. Let them hear this pussy talk to me,” he moaned around your clit.

Tick, tick, tick.

A clanging bell made you jump from the bed. The grandfather clock’s bells filled the room to near deafening sounds. Your gasps and moans stuttered and stopped. Tyrone went back to eating you out in earnest. Your eyes rolled to the clock’s face.

Both hands of the clock faced the number 12. “OH shit,” you moaned. Your back bowed off of the bed. Your orgasm came with a vengeance. Bending you in half, jerking your body beyond your control.

Sharp fangs sank into your thigh as your orgasm ripped through you. “Oh, oh,” you moaned, too lost to the sensation of him sucking on you. The sensation was different from if he were merely sucking on your skin. The pull of your blood from your thigh heightened your pleasure.

Sight left you as you closed your eyes and rode the orgasm. You mumbled and sniffled, your body wracked with aftershocks. Tyrone licked up any run away drops of blood. He was a neat eater.

He lifted his gaze to you. He licked a dark drop from his lips and moaned, his eyes flashing with a dim red glow. He kissed your thigh and nuzzled it with his face. The faint hairs of his beard and mustache tickled you and you moved away, trying to get him away from your sensitive thighs. He nibbled on your thigh, his fangs scraping against you.

You moaned. Your wrists ached from pulling against them.

Tyrone sighed and hummed in satisfaction as he got up from the bed. He smoothed down his clothes, his tongue running the sides of his mouth as if he was still trying to glean any last drop of you.

Your skin buzzed. Like an electric current ran through you. As if you touched a live wire and absorbed all those volts. Maybe it was his vampiric power or maybe it was just that strong of an orgasm from all of his edging. Either way, you were stuck in a daze as he went around the bed and untied you.

He kissed and rubbed the circulation back into your wrists. “We’re going to have to find something better for you,” he said.

Your pussy clenched. You didn’t necessarily want to be tied up, however, being at his mercy was erotic. The image flashed in your mind at what you must have looked like. He kissed your wrists and then up your arm, then your neck, and finally your jaw.

“Please, can I touch you?” You asked.

He rubbed your jaw with his thumb and tilted your head up. He kissed you, a faint sense of copper on his tongue. He hummed, the slight vibration against your lips sending shivers down your spine.

“Since you asked so nicely,” he said. He grinned and leaned back, unzipping his pants, pulling out his dick and running the tip across your lips.

Your tongue darted out and caught the bead of pre-cum. The taste of him made you purr. “Open up,” he said.

You opened your mouth, sucking him down with eagerness. His velvet head slid along your cheeks. You licked and ran your tongue along his thick, veiny dick. He hissed and groaned, his hand cupping the back of your neck and pushing you down.

“This mouth is heaven,” he said. “Suck that shit down.”

You did as you were told, sucking him and made pleasing little noises every time more pre-cum filled your mouth. Your slobbering and drooling seemed amplified in the room. You kept going, grabbing his thighs and pulling him closer.

“You’re making everyone jealous, love. They wish they could fuck this mouth. See them disappear down that wonderful mouth,” Tyrone cooed as you pleased him. You gagged a bit and pulled back to get some proper breaths. When you calmed down, you took him deeper. Sucking harder. Going faster.

His fingers tightened against your neck. “So good, so good. Unhf, suck it. Suck it,” he moaned.

He cursed as he climaxed, his sticky hot cum shooting down your throat, forcing you to swallow him down. “Good fucking girl,” he whispered, just for you.

“Face them,” he said. You turned around on the bed, facing the windows. The tips of your ears burned. You had an audience and yet it was so easy to forget they were there. Tyrone was just that distracting.

“On your back. Spread yourself for them. Let them see,” Tyrone said.

You heard clothes rustling. You got on your back, spread your legs open. “Play with her for them,” he said.

There was a sting in your thigh from where he bit you. It pulled a bit as you widened your legs and slipped your hand down to the center of you. You were a sopping wet mess. Your arousal and his spit mixed and and immediately coated your fingers. You moaned as you played with yourself for the audience. You leaned on your elbow and moved your other hand through your wet curls.

“Faster. Let them hear you,” Tyrone said.

You followed his command, letting your moans escape you and swell throughout the room. The grandfather clock continued to tick and tock. A slight breeze still floated through the room. It made you shiver. The cold air so delicious and welcome, to cool over the sweat on your skin.

The bed dipped as Tyrone joined you. “Hmm, she ready to cum?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you moaned. Tyrone nuzzled his fangs across your face, pecking kisses on any inch of available skin around your mask. He licked the shell of your ear. “Let her cum then,” he whispered in your ear.

You cried out as your orgasm came on demand. You felt like you were being ripped apart, stretched into tiny atoms and flung across the universe. Scattered. Undone and broken. You were not in your body. You were above it. Floating and touching every corner of the universe.

“So fucking pretty cumming. Cumming for them. They wish they could fuck you like I can,” Tyrone whispered as you came. A distant anchor trying to pull you back to the real world. “I don’t want to share you though. I don’t want anyone touching what’s mine. Your body is mine. Your orgasms are mine. You are mine.”

He punctuated every declaration with a kiss. Each kiss dragged you back to your body. Each one a new stitch to keep you together.

Tyrone hauled you to him, lifting you to straddle his meaty thighs. He was deceptively built. He didn’t seem that solid until you took in his naked body. Thick muscle on top of more muscle. Your legs were still open and your arousal pooled on the bed. You were making a giant mess. You moaned, your body spent.

Tyrone kissed your neck as his hands went down to your pussy. You flinched, lifting away from him. “Mhm, don’t run away now,” he said.

His fingers dipped inside your pussy and you cried out, your body trying to escape him. He held fast to you, his left arm across your chest. His fingers played and tugged with your nipples, eliciting more moans from you.

“Is she ready for this dick?” He asked.

“Unhuh,” you moaned.

Fangs sank into your shoulder and you whined, that electric voltage returning. You desperately clenched his fingers, wishing it was his dick instead. He added a third finger and curled his fingers. Rubbing against the right spot.

“Oh, oh shit. Wait, unf, fuck,” you moaned. He kept curling them, flicking it back and forth inside of you. Your climax was swift and merciless. You were in the beyond space. Beyond sight, sound, or hearing. That beyond place that you rarely went to with a partner or solo.

Your body was bowed tight like a violin string. Sounds and sighs escaped you, an incoherent mix of pain and pleasure. That fine line you walked so carefully.

“Aww, look how she weep for me,” Tyrone cooed. You flooded his fingers with fresh slick. He pulled his fingers out and waved them across your clit. Juices flung every which way. Another orgasm surged right behind the last one. “Uh-uh-uh,” your mouth had no breath to form any words.

As you floated down, Tyrone pulled you around with inhuman speed. He entered you, in one fell swoop, and your head dropped down onto his shoulder. He wrapped your legs around his waist and he sat on the bed. You both sat up straight, his arms wrapped around your back.

Your hands were wrapped around his shoulders, hugging him close. Your heels crossed on the bed, sitting completely in his lap.

“Ride that shit, love. Don’t make me do all the work,” he said.

You don’t know how, but you found the strength to move. To grind down on his dick. His silky dick stretched you completely, the thick member moving in and out of your wet walls. You bounced on his dick. Both of your moans created a delicious song of sin.

He crushed you to him as if he were trying to pass through your skin. Your breasts rubbed against his chest. Your nipples mashed against his smooth bronzed skin. “Oh fuck, right there. Please, right there,” you moaned.

“Take it, love. Take it,” he grunted.

Your hips worked in tandem with his. You bit his shoulder. You weren’t strong enough to pierce his skin. But he groaned and told you to bite him harder. Leave the impression of your teeth there. Mark him.

Your pussy squeezed his dick. You were a vice grip, connecting you both and not letting go.

Tyrone kissed your neck, your mouth. Your tongues danced together and you licked his fangs, a scratch forming on your tongue. Blood seeped into his mouth and he groaned, snapping his hips harder, fucking into you rougher.

“Feel so good, so good. Fuck me, fuck me,” you moaned.

“Forever. Mine, all mine. Oh fuck, all mine,” he said. His dick twitched inside of you. You were so close, so close…

He leaned back and sank his fangs into your chest, right above your right breast. “Oh fuck, baby,” you whined slowly.

He snapped his hips, somehow sinking even deeper and hitting that sweet spot inside of you. You were as limp as a rag doll as your orgasm rose once more, dragged to the surface by his relentless pace.

“Tyrone!” You cried as you came. You threw your head back, growled your orgasm to the ceiling. To the audience beyond. To the stars themselves. Your orgasm made your walls clench, guzzling him down, and he came with you.

He unloaded inside of you, hot and pulsing. He kept going, filling you up more and more. The wet and squishy sound of him still fucking you made you moan. He sucked on the wound in your chest, sucking down more of your blood.

As he finished pulsing and twitching inside of you, he pulled back. He licked the blood from the corner of his mouth and then crashed his lips to yours.

“Can’t get enough. Never enough.”

You kissed him back just as desperately. So at a loss for words. He rubbed your back as your foreheads pressed together. You caught your breath, yours so much louder than his. He didn’t truly need to breathe, but some human functions transcended death. His brain still forced him to draw in air and it fanned across your damp skin.

He looked into your eyes and smoothed away some sweat. He smiled, his fangs flashing. He licked your lips and then kissed you one more time. His hands floated down to your ass and squeezed.

“The things I’m going to do to you tonight will make the Devil himself jealous,” he said.

&&&

This has been turned into a series! Read the rest here: Midnight Sin Masterlist. Make sure to read the prequel!

If you need some more in your life, here ya go! The Secret Tyrone Files

213 notes · View notes

angsthology · 5 months

Text

“so much for identity keeping” — or an alt title: roo’s nighttime job

the grid caught roo in a different light, holding a different kind of instrument

a/n the title’s a bit ambiguous but bare with it 😭😭 (bare?? bear?? which one is it i genuinely dk)

thinking back, this is pretty bad so im sorry for that. still trying to get my mojo back.

THE KANGAROO(KIE) VS THE WORLD

“you think she actually hates us?”

the group of men were currently out and about exploring the night life. though, this time they decided to switch things up a little. instead of their usual glamorous clubs, they decided to go somewhere that offered live music. seb described it as ‘a change of pace’ and in return, lando said that his ‘age is getting to him’ (behind his back, that is).

the entire grid was there as they were all invited — except one.

“what? c’mon, why not?” lando made an expression of offense.

“not tonight. any other night is fine, but i already have plans. sorry, lan.” she shrugged before walking away towards where her car was parked.

that didn’t stop him from following her, though. the curly-haired brit fell in step right behind the shorter girl to—well, truthfully, beg.

“it’ll be fun!” he reasoned.

shaking her head, she stopped mid-step and faced the brunette, making him stop abruptly too.

“i’m sure it will. but i’ve had this plan since way before you probably planned yours.”

he pouted. she couldn’t help but roll her eyes at his attempt.

“next time, lan. i promise.”

remembering the conversation had lando still coated with bitterness. “not surprised if she does.”

max couldn’t help but laugh at his friend’s bitterness. he tapped his back (to which surprised lando), “no she don’t. i’m sure she has her reasons.”

as if on cue, suddenly they hear a familiar voice booming through the speakers.

the men’s heads never turned so quick before.

“oh mY GO—”

max was quick to snap his hand over lando’s mouth. and, on cue, not a moment too soon—

“EW!”

the dutch man immediately removed his hand off of lando’s mouth and wiped it on the british driver’s clothes, all the while holding an (overdramatic) expression of disgust.

he glared at the man and continued to talk (grumble), “if she didn’t tell you — or any of us, for that matter. she probably has her reasons.”

lando blinked. “okay? so?”

“so…” daniel walked up behind his teammate and rested his hands on both sides of his shoulders, “we should sit back, quietly, and watch.” he paused, lando still thinking with furrowed brows, “she doesn’t have to know.”

lando’s face brighten up as he finally catched up. “ah, i see.”

“but don’t you guys think—”

immediately, the older german man stopped his miniature, “don’t even try, mick. you know it won’t work.”

mick was about to say something else when he was suddenly cut off by lando shushing everyone. eventually he gave up trying to reason with anyone and sat down (in the dark, might i add) with everyone else as the stage lightings start to turn on.

there on the stage stood roo on the (audience’s) right holding a sticker-drowned plain white bass guitar. on center-stage stood roo’s friend they knew as daisy-mae holding her own red and white guitar along with an unfamiliar face sitting behind the drums.

everyone was surprised to see the stage lights turn on to a bright neon pink-haired roo rather than her usual hair color.

she wore a sleeveless white top with a big star design in the middle of her chest and a leather skirt paired with a pair of black thigh-high boots.

“interesting…” muttered lando with his chin resting on his interlaced hands. all the while the younger german driver across him tilted his head in an unreadable expression.

next thing they knew a tune starts to play and to their surprise, the once alfa romeo driver turned band geek leaned in the microphone, “angel… with a gun in your hand…”

their jaws dropped at the sound of her voice.

“she can sing…?”

“…she has a life outside of driving?!”

everyone’s heads immediately to the young aston martin driver, all with the same judging expression.

at that, the canadian immediately jumped ahead to defend himself. “what? she’s new! that’s how i thought of all of you when we all first met!” he said defensively with his hands (and voice) going up.

but, in truth was, no one really knew who she was. the closest thing they’ve figured out about her personal life was daisy-mae. and she was way more quiet about it than roo.

compared to the rest of the grid, she was probably the most private person yet. they seem to know so much about her yet also none at all. whether it was because she was new and still hadn’t warmed up to them like that yet or that’s just the way she is and they just haven’t gotten used to it yet. they—the media—would often compare her to kimi but that would just be wrong considering they’re nothing alike besides being tight-lipped.

watching her in another element was a new and interesting experience for them. very interesting. some might even be confident enough to bet it against her racing career.

with furrowed brows, carlos whispers to his teammate, “you think she would ever leave racing for this?”

“we’re not that lucky, mate.” charles mumbled, then shrugging, “plus you’d actually think she would leave mick?”

their moment of entertainment and amazement was cut short when she followed along the lyrics that escaped her lips.

“go on, replace me… when you’re cravin’ something sweeter than the words i left in your mouth… go on and spit me out.”

she. was. shameless.

it was almost as if the girl on that stage was not the same girl they drove on the track with, the same girl they do press conferences with, the same girl that was their co-worker and on-track rival.

that theory only furthermored when she switched instruments with daisy-mae and took over the entire stage with her presence, rocking her own solo riff.

they were seriously doubting this was the same girl as the kangaroo’s grid.

when the last notes were strung and the music died down, the girl walked over to the mic stand that once was occupied by her friend.

she started, “hi, everyone.” she was slightly out of breath — not surprise there — “we are: talking excessively. i’m your bassist slash occasional guitarist: autumn rolfe,”

the men collectively furrowed their brows in confusion, sharing glances with each other with words unspoken.

sure they doubted the rockstar was their co-worker and friend but they knew for sure it was roo. and that was not her name.

“joined by my beloveds—camellia gray,”— she pointed at daisy-mae —“on the guitar holding my bass, and finally our drummer rocky dilltogas.” she pointed at the unfamiliar new character — probably not his real name either after seeing a certain pattern.

strumming a few strings, the girl then continue speaking, “for this next song… i’ve begged and begged dai– cami for so long for us to perform this song. lucky yous, this was the night she finally agreed.” she smiles as she exchange instruments with daisy-mae—or ‘camellia gray’ as she said—once more.

then, an all-familiar tune starts playing. one that completely confirmed her identity.

“stacy, can i come over after school?”

a couple of more songs later (all the while the group of men continue to question their judgement) and the band bid their farewell after finishing their last song.

it was the three past rookies to show themselves — under the light that the girl would definitely notice them.

they saw as the blood draining from her face when she noticed their giggling faces. oh how she hated those three.

roo immediately said an awkward ‘thank you’ hurriedly and basically sprinted off to the backstage, leaving her two bandmates in confusion.

that is, until her best friend spotted the three giggling men. they waved at her happily, feigning innocence as her face dropped knowing exactly that they were the reason.

behind the stage, roo was still in shock, standing like she’s seen a ghost until her bandmates walked over to her.

daisy-mae was the first to walk over to her, a hand on her friend’s shoulder, “it’s fine.”

“i’m going to kill them.” she replied, her expression unmoved.

“i mean that’s one way to do it—”

“what happened?” asked the drummer.

before any of them could explain to him, they were interrupted by said explanation as they all approached them.

her face was almost in a permanent expression, hardening when she saw the three demons that held complete malice in their eyes when instead she was surprised with showers of compliments by her older co-workers.

but still, that didn’t stop the rest from existing and taking the big chance of absolutely mess with her. they would never give up the opportunity to pull a reaction from roo.

“so, autumn rolfe, was it?” george smiled happily with his arms crossed.

“shut up.”

“i think i’m co-workers with your sister: spring.” snickered alex.

“funny. anythin’ else?” she deadpanned.

“yeah—”

but before the mclaren driver could say anything, roo had already had her fingers clasped on his ear—cutting off his shits and giggles.

“what the hell! i haven’t said anything, why didn’t you do it when these guys were talkin’!” he complained.

“you’re the nearest one.”

“you and i are exactly the same distance as you and alex!”

“yeah, but he’s a whole electric pole, you’re a gremlin.”

“just say you hate me the most.”

“i hate you the most.”

he rolls his eyes, grumbling, “you’re not my favorite either.”

“lying? really? you know that’s my thing, right?”

their bantering was interrupted when roo heard her name being called. she turned around to see her bandmates standing behind her with another new presence with them.

her eyes widen and quickly let go of lando’s ear, running off to her friends.

“everyone! since i no longer have any form of privacy, i’d like to introduce you to my friends.” the drivers all crowded the group of four. “you guys know daisy-mae,” said girl waved and a string of familiar ‘hi’s and ‘hello’s greeted her, “this here is atticus,” the boy they recognized as the drummer smiled politely at them. roo then looked at the new girl standing beside daisy-mae, “and uh, this is nika, don’t know when or how she got here.”

“but she’s happy i’m here.” said girl stated happily with a giddy smile.

“sure.”

at her monotonous voice, nika’s smile dropped, rolling her eyes.

everyone then slowly dropped the topic and went on their own as another band take over the stage with their more upbeat dance worthy music.

she was left was now only left with alex, george, and lando. she sighed.

“anything else?”

george shrugged, “but seriously, i think it was pretty cool.”

the girl couldn’t help but feel the heat rushing to her face, she never expected a compliment coming out of his mouth.

“oh. uh, thanks?”

“i mean, by the looks of you i had a feeling you have some sort of hannah montana-esque secret somewhere.” alex mentioned, only making roo’s eyes furrow. “that was a compliment.” he clarified after seeing the look on her face.

then, lando leaned over to her and whispered in her ear, “don’t tell her this but i always thought she was really cool, this was just an upgrade.”

confused, again, roo turned to a goofy-grinning lando with her right brow raised. alex caught her attention when started again, “he’s had a few drinks.”

“well. we’ll see you on the dance floor, i’m assuming?” george asked, sipping from the drink in his hand.

she nodded as the three went on, lando lingered behind with her.

“guess you did ended up goin’ out with us after all!” he said before leaving her with a smile mumbling a ‘yeah’.

roo was about to follow behind him when a certain spanish driver approached her, putting his arm around her frame. he took a sip from his drink before speaking as they walked together towards the bar.

“ever think of performing at birthday parties?”

“whose?”

“mine.”

“your birthday’s passed, nando.”

“incase you didn’t know, they’re a yearly thing.”

she chuckled, “sure thing, pop.”

“oh, and nice hair, by the way.”

“thanks.”

taglist; @treehouse-mouse @disneyprincemuke @yansbolobao @leilanixx @judespoision @vellicora @bborra lemme know what ya think 🥰 & tell me if u want to be added

#f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula one x reader #formula one #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x female reader #formula 1 x oc #tine’s roo vs the world

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