#AND THE SHADING NEARLY DROVE ME INSANE | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

slashingdisneypasta · 7 months

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Judge Turpin x Reader || Excerpt

Plot: The Judge finds you waiting for him in his 🛏🛏🛏 and he helps you to go to sleep ^^ xx

Warnings: Reader is horny, Judge Turpin is horny- there is no smut but there are definitely intentions 😅😅😅

You kind of liked it when the Judge would work late, because then you could pull antics like this on him- and his reaction was always truly one to see. The man loved to find you bare in his bed except for his sheets and that becoming smirk on your face; that coy grin.

Man of sophisticated desires and refined tastes that he was; he ate it up, and you knew that fact perfectly well. In fact you liked to take advantage of it, a little. Sometimes.

... Alright, as often as you could actually. Its just the way his eyes seemed to devour you when you did, and how his hands always searched all over your body for hours- more attentive then any other lover you'd had- it just drove you mad and made you ache. Left you with a sweet and satisfied fluttering sensation deep inside that made you dream about it and then come back over, and over, and over again.

It didn't hurt, neither, that his bedding was so lovely on your bare skin; soft and expensive, cool to the touch though it definitely gets hotter the later the hour. The longer he's in it with you, between your thighs.

So when the Judge finishes work this night you are already sorted, undressed and sat carefully under the covers so nothing untoward was showing just yet, eagerly awaiting the handsome older man to come to his room. When he does, looking tired and unshaven (The stubble on his face making him all the more dashing to you, though), untying his cravat from his neck with thick fingers, and he sees you- the change is immediate.

He relaxes, switching from exhausted and frustrated old gentleman ready to put a long work day behind him with a heavy nightcap and another nights restless sleep- to a hungry predator, and its clear in his dark eyes. The candle light in the room may not let you see the colour very well, every single shade there is in his eyes like you could if you were a couple in the daylight, but you can clearly see the desire he feels at seeing you waiting for him. The need he has to have you yet again. It makes you wonder what he imagines when you're not here.

Does he close his eyes and curse his own hand for not being yours? Does he wonder what you're doing to yourself all alone in bed in your home?

"... well well, Y/N, I didn't expect a... visit, from you, this evening."

Keeping the blankets held carefully over your chest with an arm folded over them, you give him a little smile. "Should I have sent word? Have a messenger tell you that I'll be waiting in the buff for you to come home and ravage me? I imagine that might have been embarrassing for you- not to mention everyone at work would have been a tad distracted."

That makes him smile himself, almost releasing a laugh at your cheek. "My dear, you do have a point. Besides,.. " Your heartbeat picks up in speed as he prowls slowly over to the bed and sits beside your legs; his hands dipping into the blankets and the mattress on either side of your hips as he leans into your face so you can feel his warm breath on your lips. His eyes flicker from your eyes alight with mischief, to your lips more then once- but forces himself to keep it together just a little bit. Even though you truly wish he wouldn't. "Its a welcome surprise... "

"Thought you might appreciate it," You mutter, your eyes unabashedly on his mouth. You cant help thinking about the places his mouth has been before... the parts of you that he has kissed, that you can still feel right now that you're in his familiar bed again- like he branded you somehow with his lips and his tongue. "... I heard you had a frustrating day,.. I wanted to help."

"That was... very... " He just brushes his lips against yours; not nearly enough to sate you, but just enough to drive you insane. Make you want to dig your fingers into his shirt and drag him in for a real kiss. "... thoughtful."

"I try."

"Hmmm... " Pulling back a few centimetres, the Judge looks down at your state, feasting his eyes on your form; the bedding wrapped around your clearly naked body. You can very clearly see how he aches to just rip it off you, but again- restrains himself.

... Agh!

"... What are you waiting for, sir?" You ask, after a moment, tilting your head down to catch his eyes once again with yours. For, you do love to have his hungry, greedy stare on you but you also need is touch. He flashes you a tiny smirk at this, one of those miniscule expressions of his that drive you insane.

"Eager are we, dove?"

With a gentle sigh at his teasing, not really frustrated with him but eager like he said, you let go of the bedding around your chest in favour of running your hands up his arms from knuckles to shoulders. The bedding stays put, but only just, and by the time your finger tips are grazing his neck - that cravat hanging loose and his perfect, crisp white collar open and making him look dangerously attractive, - , his eyes are absolutely on fire. "... well, yes- "

You barely get to admit your desires for him before his mouth is on yours, kissing the life out of you.

#Judge Turpin x Reader Excerpt #Judge Turpin x Reader #Judge Turpin #Sweeney Todd #Sweeny Todd x Reader #Excerpt

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shadioh · 1 year

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DAY 6: TEAM FORTRESS 2

Team Fortress 2 means so much to so many people that it's basically transcended it's status as a 15 year old video game. It's made people's childhoods (as well as mine) and so many memories throughout the years, and is still going strong. It's a game nearly as old as I am, but it's legendary status has kept it's world and characters alive past any previous expectation for the medium of video games. It's really hard to imagine how the 2010's would have looked without it, because it truly has bled into every corner of the internet - you may have even seen these characters somewhere and never have even realized it. But, assuming you don't know anything about it, let me explain what it is and where it came from, and then explain exactly how it's obtained it's top spot in so many people's hearts.

Team Fortress 2 (TF2) is a free PC online first person shooter released in 2007, and while that may be surprising considering what I've said about it, it truly revolutionized gaming as a medium and has inspired many to create with the tools it's provided. The art style is truly timeless, as it's art style consists of wacky cell-shaded characters in a New Mexican warzone set in the 1950s, with an insane story to go along with it. But I'm not here to read off the wiki to you, I'm here to explain why it's so timeless.

It's because of the community. The community has kept it alive all these years, when any other game would have fallen into obscurity given the lack of attention from it's creators. And it's in this philosophy that TF2 is truly genius; they supported it themselves for a few years, then said "you guys want to help?".

Community created content and game servers have been the lifeblood of TF2 - with tools like Source Filmmaker to make your own movies and animations with TF2's assets, and publicly available tools like Hammer to make your own in-game environments and maps that could even make it to the real game; these things are truly the reason it's so beloved. So when you ask a TF2 fan what got them into the game, 9 times out of 10 it's because they saw something about it on YouTube, that's personally how I did. Fan works and creations for this game are some of the most creative things I've ever seen, how you can put these characters into any environment and make your own stories with them. Source Filmmaker may be limited by today's standards, it's ease of use and access have made hundreds of people who may have never considered animation become high level animators at huge studios. Here are a few examples.

The Red, The Blu, and the Ugly is one of my favorites, coming after a series of other animations by the same creator. It's so creative and well-executed, and it's animation is superb. As a frame of reference, I literally let my mom watch this, and she said she really liked it, despite not knowing much about TF2 at all. I feel like that speaks to it's quality.

Very recently came Emesis Blue. At nearly 2 hours long, it's quite literally feature-film quality. While I haven't personally gotten to watch it yet, the things I've heard about it and the few bits I've seen are breath-taking given it's been made entirely with Source Filmmaker. It's jaw-dropping how a story this intricate and scary can be animated with the very same character models you've seen so many times before.

And finally, Team Fabulous 2. With almost 30 million views, this is truly one of the most nostalgic pieces of TF2 for so many people. It's completely insane and impossible to comprehend to somebody who knows nothing of early 2010s internet culture and TF2 itself, but that insanity drove many to TF2, leading to it's cult classic status. The creator unfortunately passed a while ago to cancer, but his creations have lived on and have even been recreated in his memory. It's amazing how something this ridiculous can be a soft spot for so many people. Just looking at the comments of Team Fabulous 2 shows just how many people care.

And so it's with that that I believe that TF2 and it's community are so important, and worthy of being talked about.

Here's Team Fabulous 2's Engineer, drawn by me.

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rosaline-black · 2 years

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𝙾𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕-𝙵𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚆𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚢

summary: Fred Weasley was definitely good at one thing, and that was pulling people out of their shell, and when he takes a particular liking to you, will he manage to do the same?

category: Fred Weasley X shy!fem!reader

You were so bloody quiet. Annoyingly so. Endearingly, annoyingly so. It drove Fred insane. He could remember the first time he realised he fancied you. At first, it felt so juvenile. Just a mere third year noticing a quiet girl in his potions class, eyes glued to her textbook as she scribbled down notes like her life depended on it. George had teased him mercilessly that day, but he barely even took notice of his brothers jesting, his ears yearned to hear your voice. But that was the thing, you barely spoke. In nearly every way you were polar opposites. Fred was loud and rowdy, you were reserved and you calculated every single word you did speak, which wasn't very many.

Watching from afar, Fred took a deep breath. You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, your eyes scanning the book that rested in your palms. He had planned today to try converse with you, or at the very least get you to laugh. He was good at making people laugh, it was one of the things he prided himself on, and he was sure your laugh would top them all.

Taking a deep breath, Fred took big strides towards you. He was a sixth year now this should be a piece of cake. You were currently tucked away in the far corner of the library, clearly trying to get some alone time. Thoughts raced around Fred's head as he got closer and closer, what if you just got up and left? Or worse finally did speak but said something along the lines of piss off Weasley.

Finally standing opposite you, Fred cleared his throat to try and grab your attention. The noise startled you so much, that you literally leapt out of your seat and landed on the floor. His eyes widened as he instantly crouched down muttering several, almost inaudible apologies. If he wasn't so caught up in trying to help you back into your seat, Fred would notice how just by seeing his face your eyes had lit up like the moon.

"Again I'm so sorry... I just um... wondered what you were reading..." he poorly lied, rubbing the back of his neck with a weak nervous grin.

"Lord of the flies..." you quietly muttered. In fact, if Fred wasn't completely devoted to hearing you, he probably wouldn't have even made out the words you whispered.

"Oh, nice... nice..."

An extremely awkward silence followed as you did everything to not look up at his wide brown eyes full of longing.

"You're in my potions class aren't you?" Fred questioned knowing the answer already, but struggling to let go of the conversation made it the first logical thing that fell to his lips.

A small nod and your eyes met. It seemed something shifted then, the nerves that were clear in your furrowed brow seemed to melt away as you retained eye contact and decided to speak. This was unusual.

"Yes... yes, I am... don't you sit beside Adrien pucey?" You asked softly.

"Yes god don't remind me..."

Another awkward silence... but then the most beautiful sound Fred had ever heard. Your laugh. It wasn't just a little giggle, it was hearty and could almost resemble a cackle. It was perfect. Fred sensed embarrassment as you cut yourself off after a few seconds, your brain sending waves of hot shame all down your body.

"Sorry I... sorry I should get going-" you stumbled over your words and grabbed your bag attempting to pack away your things as quickly as possible, your eyes remaining glued to the floor.

"NO...Uh... I mean no please don't apologise... you don't have anything to apologise for..." Fred exclaimed, his pale freckled cheeks staining a nice pink shade.

Yet again you looked up at him and that crease between your eyebrows that made you look permanently worried smoothed out again. Confidence arose in Fred as he realised whenever you'd look at him, like really look into his eyes, all of the anxiety that seemed to trouble you washed away like the black lake’s calm ripples.

"Look y/n I lied to you I didn't come over here to see what you were reading... I actually wanted to ask you if you'd like to hang out sometime..." Fred powered through and finished his admission with a steady breath awaiting your reply.

Your face seemed to soften ever so slightly. And Fred could tell you were thinking about how you were going to form this sentence, it pained him to see somebody so introverted, they didn't just say what they wanted. Fred didn't know many people like that. By extension of his overly loud family, he only knew other loud people. You were so different, it intrigued him thoroughly.

"Alone...?" You finally whispered, "This may come as a surprise but I don't necessarily do well with people..."

Fred coughed out a laugh at your use of sarcasm, which he knew was the right move when your lips curled into the most precious smile he had ever seen "Yes alone... we could do whatever you want... I'd even read a novel if it meant spending an afternoon in your company..."

After the words left his mouth he regretted them instantly, way to come on strong Fred. But his impromptu confession seemed to have worked in his favour as your smile grew wider, he could practically feel the blush radiating from your cheeks.

"Okay... well there's a nice spot by the black lake... I uh... I don't have plans tomorrow..." you implored.

"Tomorrow is perfect... I'll meet you by the courtyard at one?" Fred offered smiling wider as you nodded in reply. This was definitely a start.

Over the coming weeks, Fred did everything in his power to make you feel as comfortable as possible. At first, it was sort of awkward, but just like before, every time the two of you would share glances, the conversation seemed to pick up.

If Fred wasn't whipped before he sure was now. He learnt quickly that when you got going, you could talk for England. His favourite time of day was listening to you ramble about the most random things, ensuring to reassure you that no apologies were necessary and you were simply making his day brighter with all the knowledge you shared.

Making you laugh became a task he'd try and complete at least once a day. Whether it was dyeing Snape's robes pink or making Flitwick's desk chair extra high so he couldn't reach, Fred would watch in anticipation to see if you were laughing. He noticed how that unreserved cackle didn't make an appearance in public, but seeing you try and stifle it counted as a win in his book.

Although the two of you had grown closer in recent weeks, Fred still hadn't made any attempt at hinting he had romantic feelings for you. Every time he nearly spewed it out, he got distracted and asked something dumb like what's your favourite number? Idiot.

Today however he would tell you how he felt. How? Well, he hadn't thought that far ahead yet, but he knew he had too soon, or it would eat him alive. You had actually suggested meeting at the top of the astronomy tower, which was as always away from everyone else, just how you liked it.

Fred got to the tower just after you and smiled at the view before him. There you sat, book in hand as the breeze blew the hair from your face, you were a vision. Stopping himself gawking, Fred took gentle steps towards you until you finally heard him approaching. Just like always, the interaction started awkwardly, the insecurities that plagued you held you from talking, but after a few jokes were cracked you were rambling just how he liked.

“…And then McGonagall decided she wanted us to do group projects and I had to watch Lee Jordan try and transfigure my tie into a flower… when really he managed to turn it into a bloody-“

Now, as much as Fred wanted to know what lee had done, the temptation to kiss you had become too overwhelming and boy did your soft lips feel incredible on his own. Fred soon noticed that you weren’t really kissing him back, the ginger pulled away and your eyes were wide as saucers. Did you really still not believe he liked you?

“Do it again…”

Now his eyes mimicked yours.

“Pardon?”

Now ever since knowing you, the expression you pulled was one he had never seen before, and it made him practically go feral. You held a smirk akin to his own when he was feeling particularly confident, like when he knew exactly what he wanted. And in this case the thing you wanted was sitting right in front of you.

“Kiss me again Weasley…”

And so, he did. Oh, Merlin he did.

#fred weasley x you #fred wealsey fic #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #george weasley x reader #George weasley #Harry Potter #Fred weasley fluff #fluff

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jungwonenthusiast · 3 years

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hii can i request bestfriends heeseung and y/n who have never done anything together but one night while having a sleepover things just go in that direction 👀👀👀 (using prompts 8 & 12 please🥺)

A/N: this is such a cute concept i love it (u didn’t specify who says what so i chose lol i hope thats okay, I also made hee a soft dom)

Warnings: oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex, cock warming

Word count: 3k

You tap lotion onto your face as Heeseung pulls his sheet mask off. He pats the remaining product into his skin.

“You don’t even need that,” you roll your eyes. “Your skin is already perfect.”

“Jealous?” he teases.

“Yes, I one hundred percent am.” you admit and he chuckles.

You finish up in the bathroom and then plop onto your bed. Heeseung leans over you and grabs the remote on your nightstand. He clicks to Bojack Horseman as always then lays down next to you, scrolling through his phone.

You kick him in the shin. “Gimme some space.”

He frowns and sprawls himself on top of you. “What, you don’t wanna love on me?”

You laugh and try to push him off. “I feel violated.”

He rolls away, chuckling.

You’re scrolling through tiktok together when a video of someone joking about porn comes up. You cackle and Heeseung looks at you.

“How do you know about that?” he asks, wide eyed.

“What do you mean?” you ask awkwardly.

“Do you watch porn?” he asks and you turn away from him, giggling.

“That’s a very private question.” you say, covering your face with your hands.

“So you do!” he exclaims and he’s blushing too.

You guys talked about sex occassionaly, only when you were sharing stories about hook ups though.

“What kind do you watch?” he says, only half joking and you punch him in the shoulder.

“That’s an extremely private question.” you say.

“I thought we were for lifers.” he replies and you laugh.

If he were a female friend you wouldn’t hesitate to tell her all of this, but for some reason he made you shy. You still remember when you became aware that he was a guy. It was the summer before tenth grade when he grew three inches, his voice dropped, and his shoulders began to broaden. It was the summer you became more aware of his masculinity and ever since then, things kind of changed. Not for the worse, things are just different now.

You continue to scroll when another scandalous tiktok comes up. It said something about wanting to be dominated and taken control of.

You groan. “Why do I keep getting these things?”

“The for you page gives you things that it knows you’d like.” he remarks and you scrunch your nose at him. “What? I think it was pretty hot.”

You choke. “You’re a bottom?”

“No!” he guffaws. “I meant to be the giver in that situation.”

“Ohhh,” you say, trying not to get too embarrassed. The thought of him doing that to someone drove you a little insane.

“Are you?” he asks and you shove him.

“You weirdo.” you accuse and he holds his hands up.

“I just think best friends should know these things about each other.”

You shrug him off and turn your phone off. “I don’t trust my phone anymore, let’s watch yours.”

You scoot over to him and rest your head on his shoulder.

He scoffs. “I thought you wanted space?”

“Are you complaining?” you tease.

“Of course not.” He fake yawns to get his arm around you and you cackle.

He taps a gentle beat onto your shoulder while scrolling through instagram. You can’t help but tense up in his embrace. He had been a bit more touchy than usual lately; random hugs, playing with your fingers, adjusting your clothes, and tying up your shoelaces whenever he could.

“Wow I do not like this.” he says at someone’s prom outfit.

“Me neither,” you frown. “It’s kind of outdated.”

“When’s our prom?” he asks.

“I think in a month.”

“We’re going together right?” he asks and your heart skips a beat. You figured that you’d go together but him asking you made you anxious.

“Yeah,” you try to sound confident.

“Are we gonna coordinate our outfits?” he lightly squeezes your side and you squeal.

“But we’re not going as a couple.” you say and he rolls his eyes.

“So? It’d be weird to show up together with mismatched outfits.” he says and you nod in agreement. “Do you have an idea of what you wanna wear?” he asks.

“I think I wanna go more simple and do black.” you say and he groans.

“You always wear black dresses.”

“And? I look hot in them.” you defend.

“You’re right you’re right.” he accepts defeat and you giggle.

As the night goes on you slowly slump further into Heeseung’s side. At one point his arm goes numb so you scooch in front of him and rest your back against his chest. You’ve gotten used to being so close to him, and at this point you just wanted more.

His arms are wrapped loosely around you as you watch Coraline on the tv. He reaches up to run his hand through his hair but instead punches you decently hard in the boob. You yelp and hold your chest.

“Ahh! Sorry sorry!” he holds your shoulders. “I’m sorry.”

You can’t help but laugh through your pain. “Trying to make me lose a boob or something?”

“Noo, no I’m sorry, forgive me.” he asks, sounding genuinely worried.

Sure you were exaggerating your reaction, but what’s wrong with having a little fun with him.

You elbow him in the side and he cries out.

“Revenge.” you say with a smug smile.

He waits a moment before grabbing your waist and flipping you onto your back. He’s always stronger than you would’ve guessed. You yell as he climbs on top of you and begins to tickle your sides.

You kick around and try to push him off but he won’t budge.

“Get off, I’m dying!” you cackle from his relentless tickling.

“You asked for it.” he says.

“I thought we promised no tickle fights?” you grab a pillow to protect yourself but he’s quick to chuck it away.

“I had my fingers crossed.” he jokes.

You muster all of your strength and hook your leg around him to get him onto his back, a trick Jungwon taught you.

Without thought, you climb on top of him and pin his hands down. It take you a moment to realize what position you’re in. You both freeze for a second before bursting out laughing.

You fall onto your back, holding your chest.

“What the hell was that?” he asks, laughing. “Some fifty shades of gray type of shit.”

You kick him in the shoulder. “I’m sorry!” you say through a fit of giggles. You try to push yourself up but your legs are bent in a way that makes it a little tough. Heeseung assists you and pulls you up into a sitting position by your waist.

You’re still giggling a bit when you feel his nose brush against yours.

“Hi.” you whisper and he waits a moment before gently pushing his lips against yours. Your heart leaps into your throat but you try to stay calm as possible.

He pulls away (to your disappointment) and looks at you with wide eyes.

“Fuck, I’m sorry-” he says and before he can finish your hold his face and kiss him back. His arms snake around your waist and he pulls you flush against him.

You can’t believe that this is happening. You wonder if all the things you’ve fantasized about would happen tonight. Of course not, you’re crazy, you think. But you could already imagine with hands adventuring your body, touching you just how you like it.

Your fingers dip into the back of his shirt collar. You’re barely touching his skin, but it still feels so special.

His lips move to your cheek, then your jaw, then your neck. Your breath becomes increasingly ragged as his kisses become more open mouthed and messy.

He looks up at you. “Is this okay? Like do you want this?”

You nod eagerly and he smiles. “Cute.” he says to himself.

He gently rests you onto your back and traces your waist before pushing your top up. He peppers kisses all over your stomach and ribs before getting to the band of your bralette.

You blush. “I would’ve worn something nicer if I knew this was gonna happen.”

He shakes his head. “I like it, it’s pretty.”

You tug your shirt over your head along with your bra. He lets out a small gasp and you rush to cover yourself.

“Wait, no no.” he pulls your hands away.

“You’re making me shy.” you turn your head away and he chuckles.

“So perfect.” he says before softly kissing your chest.

You let out a small moan while running your fingers through his hair.

He slowly runs his tongue over your nipples while rubbing your sides. You can feel wetness starting to pool in your underwear.

You instinctively swivel your hips, looking for some kind of stimulation and he smiles.

“Do you need something?” he asks teasingly and you feel your cheeks heat up.

“Yeah,” you answer.

“What is it?”

You shake your head out of embarrassment.

“Well you’re gonna have to tell me or I’m just gonna leave you like this.” he says nonchalantly and you sigh.

You swallow your pride. “Touch me, please?”

“Attagirl.” he says and tugs your shorts off. “Show me how you like it.”

Your eyes widen. “Huh?”

“You heard me,” he says. “Show me first.”

You breathe in nervously before sliding your hand into your underwear. You circle your clit once and do your best to hold in a moan. He pulls your underwear to the side to watch you.

“Do you think about me when you touch yourself?” he asks. “When you’re home alone and it’s late at night?”

You nod sheepishly and he smiles. “What do you imagine?”

“I’m not telling you,” you blush. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Don’t be embarrassed. If you tell me, I'll tell you what I think about too.” he suggests and you accept the deal.

“I-I imagine my fingers being yours,” you swallow thickly.

“Mhm,” he encourages you while gingerly kissing your thighs.

“And,” you hesitate for a moment. “I imagine your tongue on me, and you filling me up. What about you?”

He smiles. “I imagine touching you like this,” he rubs his hands down your thighs and reaches up to pinch your nipples. “I imagine kissing you here,” he kisses your inner thigh, “and here,” he kisses you so close to where you need him the most and you quiver. He grabs your hand and pushes your fingers into his mouth. Your eyes widen and he smirks. “You taste good.”

You nearly cum just from seeing and hearing that.

“I imagine doing this.” He lowers his head and licks a gentle stripe up your pussy. Your thighs snap around his head and he pushes them back open.

“Relax sweetheart, let me make you feel good.” he says before delving into you. Your back arches off the bed right away and your fingers find his hair. Goddamn he’s good.

He circles his tongue on your clit, hungrily but still gently.

“Fuck,” you exhale and he smiles.

He pushes a finger into you with ease and soon adds another. You roll your hips against his tongue as his fingers pump in and out of you. You whimper as the overwhelming pleasure runs through your body.

“Oh my god,” you squeak as your legs begin to shake. Already? You think.

His fingers stay at a steady pace as he messily sucks on your clit. You tug at his hair and he moans into you.

“Please don’t stop.” you beg and he obeys.

Your hips begin to lift off the mattress and he pins you down, keeping you in place. Your orgasm pours through you like sweet syrup, leaving you trembling under him.

He comes up to kiss you, letting you taste yourself. You wipe your juices off his chin with your thumb then lick it off.

He watches you in awe. “God you’re hot.”

You pull his hoodie over his head and push him onto his back. Your fingers trace his shoulders, then his waist, and every muscle on his torso. You kiss him down to the band of his sweats before pulling them down along with his Calvins.

His cock springs up and hits his lower stomach. You slowly kiss up his shaft then waste no time getting him in your mouth. He hisses and caresses your hair.

He hits the back of your throat every time you bob your head but you don’t care. His head drops back with a tempting moan.

“Fuck you’re good.” he says with a small smile.

You stroke the inches you can’t reach with your hand.

You wish you could imprint this image of him in your mind: his head lulling back, his adam's apple bobbing every time he swallows, his brows furrowing, his mouth parting open. You’re almost tempted to take a photo.

You take him all the way into your throat and swallow around him. The moan he lets out sounds better than a song.

You look up at him and watch him rake his hand through his hair. His abs contract every time you come down on him.

“Just like that,” he purrs, sending heat straight to your core.

You feel so dirty with your spit dripping down your chin but at the same time, it feels so good.

“Such a good girl,” he coos. “Sucking this cock so well.”

You nod at him and he smiles.

“Come here,” he pulls you into a position where he can reach you better and squeezes your ass. He tenderly traces his fingers down your spine before slowly pushing two fingers into you. You whine on his cock and he smirks.

“Still so wet.” he says while slightly curling his fingers, you jolt and he chuckles. “Feels good huh?”

You nod and he pets your hair. “Keep going, that’s it.”

His fingers pick up the pace as your sucking and licking becomes more sloppy.

His moans become more desperate and when he expects you to pull off you keep your head down, taking his cum down your throat.

“Did you just swallow?” he asks you, still breathing heavy.

You nod with a smile and he pulls you into a passionate kiss.

He flips you onto your back, eagerly kissing down your body before lining himself up with your entrance.

“Fuck me please,” you exhale and he smiles.

“Of course,” he pushes into you and you whine from the feeling. He stretches you out just right. “God you have good pussy.” he moans and you giggle.

He leans down to kiss you and you whimper into his mouth.

“Don’t stop,” you plead and he kisses your neck, sucking and nibbling to leave a hickey. “People are gonna see.” you say and he smiles.

“That’s the point.” he says. "Don’t you want people to know how good you are for me?”

You blush and nod.

“Give me one too sweetheart.” he says softly while leaning over you.

You rub up and down his sides while gently biting and licking at his neck, leaving a pretty red blush on his neck.

His fingers trail down to circle your clit while grinding his hips into yours. Your eyes roll back as he does so and he smiles. He can’t stop thinking about how captivating you are. He can’t take his eyes off you. Which gives him an idea.

He grabs your jaw and turns it to the mirror next to your bed. “Look at yourself.” he says.

Your heartbeat quickens, not used to seeing yourself in this state.

“Look how good you take it.” he says and you can’t deny it, you look hot as fuck.

He looks at you watching his cock disappear in and out of your cunt. You drag your hands over your waist and go to roll your nipples between your fingers.

His fingers are so slick on your clit from your juices and everything feels so good that you can’t really believe it.

He grabs onto the headboard for leverage and he looks so fucking good like this. Ever since he turned your head to the mirror, you can’t look away. You only turn to face him when your legs begin to shake and the fire in your stomach starts to dance.

“Please don’t stop,” you say with sparkling eyes. “I’m close.”

“Cum for me sweetheart,” he says right by your ear. “Be good.”

That alone sends you over the edge.

You’re back arches and your eyes roll back as your orgasm surges through you. He moans into your neck as he releases into you. You’re still pulsing around him when he finishes.

He kisses your cheeks as you come down for your high. “You did so well princess.”

You can’t help but cling to him and he chuckles. “I have to pull out of you eventually.”

“I like the way you feel.” you whine and he smiles.

You opt to cock warm him. He lays on his back and pulls you on top to straddle him. He gently pushes into you as you lay on his chest and enjoy the feeling.

He strokes your back and kisses your shoulder for a bit before he starts to subdtley thrust up into you.

You give him a look and he smiles at you sheepishly. “Wanna go again?”

#Heeseung smut #enhypen smut #Kpop smut

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wearywinchester · 2 years

Text

Breaking Point — Sneak Peek

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: When you and the older Winchester have a habit of saving the other from danger no matter the risk, it sends the two of you over the edge.

Warnings: angst, injury, blood, swearing, fluff, kissing

You could hear his footsteps behind you, boots thudding loud and clear on the hardwood floor until you finally huffed and spun on your heel to face him with just as much anger as you felt.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Dean asked, nearly incredulous as he stares at you with a narrowed gaze.

He was angry, he was pissed, it was more than obvious with the way he threw his duffel in the trunk and slammed it shut, with the way he got in the car in the very same huff. It was obvious with how he white knuckled the steering wheel, radio turned all the way down. No classic rock, no joking around to you or to Sam. It was quiet the entire drive with his jaw clenched tighter than ever, lips pursed till those dimples formed by the corners of his mouth. You spared the frequent glance at him, quickly averting when he’d catch your eye while doing the same.

It was obvious with how he stood in front of you, chest rising and falling a little heavier than normal. The crease between his brows seemed to deepen by the second, green eyes fixed on you as the bounce over every inch of your face. So frustrated his cheeks tinged the softest shade of scarlet you could have ever seen. His nostrils flared with every inhale, his posture stiff and tense. You could tell he was anger, could feel it emanating off of him, but your words only added fuel to the fire.

“I’m thinking I saved your ass back there, Dean,” you counter, tone mirroring your opinion that it’d been ever so obvious.

It very much was, Dean just didn’t care for it.

He laughs then, bitter and not at all humorous as that gaze of his narrows just a fraction more.

“I didn’t ask you to,” he says.

The heat of the anger sitting heavy in your stomach simmers some more, your fists clenching at your sides before releasing. You rolled your eyes at the statement, at the tone of his voice as he spoke. It was ridiculous and entirely to irritating to not do such a thing as you stare up at him.

“Didn’t have to, didn’t need you to either. I’m just doing my job, Dean, whether you like it or not,” you say, that anger of yours weaving around every word.

He very much did not.

“Doing your job?” He scoffs, stepping a little closer to you, disbelief in his tone. “Doing your job isn’t throwing yourself in the line of fire like it’s nothing. Doing your job isn’t getting yourself killed just to save my ass over a damn monster. You’re not doing your freakin’ job, sweetheart, you’re being reckless and stupid out there.”

His voice was loud, full of anger and an emotion you can’t quite put your finger on. But you’re too busy feeling that simmering in your stomach rise to a boil as you glare at him, jaw tighter than ever as you fight back the lump so desperately trying to form.

He was stubborn, too stubborn for his own good and it drove you insane as you stood there in front of him, his gaze mirroring yours. It felt as though your heart might just beat out of your chest at any given moment, your breaths trembling as much as your hands with the adrenaline you’ve got running through you in that moment.

“I didn’t do anything you wouldn’t have done, and you know it. You’re not the only one that gets to protect people, and you’re damn sure not the only one that gets to risk their life doing it,” you say, watching his brows furrow deeper at your words. “And don’t call me sweetheart.”

“It’s different, Y/n,” he says, a fraction louder than before, more anger in his words.

You could see he was nearly pushed over the edge, and you could see it clear on his face, now more than ever as he looked at you.

“How?” You ask, narrowing your stare. “How is it different, Dean?”

He’s quiet, swallowing thickly as that silence settles in the space. He looks away from you, unable to keep his gaze on you otherwise he just might burst from every emotion he’s got lancing through him. He looks away as he shakes his head, that bitter laugh sounding again. It’s soft and it’s void of humor as he runs his hand along his jaw and over his mouth.

He doesn’t have an answer for you, he doesn’t have one yet he very much does. He absolutely does but the words just won’t spill from his mouth, he can’t get them too so they sit stagnant and paralyzed on the tip of his tongue.

He looks at you at the sound of your laugh, one to match his own.

“You’re unbelievable, Dean,” you say, head shaking as you spin on your heel and grab your duffel.

You make your way up the wooden stairs, leaving Dean to stand in the same spot he’s been in all in his own company, flinching at the harsh slam of your door before it went quiet once more.

To be continued…

—

Tags: @flamencodiva @stixnstripesworld @elegantbutedgy @campingmonkey @agalliasi @deandaydreaming @sparkyluz @malindacath @awkward-and-indecisive @ajreturnstocringeyaccount @deanswaywardgirl @drownthewitch @akshi8278 @kidd3ath @nyotamalfoy @lanea-1 @harrysweasleys @humanmistakes @happyt0exist

#dean winchester #dean winchester oneshot #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester imagine

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theoreticslut · 3 years

Text

Summer Lovin’

pairing: fred weasley x reader

requested: no

word count: 3.5k

warnings: smut

A/N: Hi. I hope this is good because i had the idea and just had to write it. Like i’ve mentioned before, I’ve written smut and steamy scenes before, but nothing that I’ve ever really posted and I truly have no idea what i’m doing so I just feel like it’s really bad. Like I’ve debated with myself for a week if wanted to post this or not and finally decided to just go for it and see what happens with it. So, yeah, I hope you like it. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated (even if you want to send me your comments through an anon ask). Just let me know what’s good or what could be better, yeah? & also, just want to through it out there again that I am taking requests (check out my holiday prompt list) as well as doing a sleepover event for the next week or so in celebration of 300 followers <3 Take advantage of it! Xx

Taglist: @justmesadgirl @xuckduck @yikesyikesyikes95 @filipi-yes @aestheticwh0r3 @siredkai @matsuno-nadeshiko @msmarklee1213 @immajustreadwritereblog @msmimimerton @lauren2408 @mischievous-queen @bunnyboo7 @grandeoptimist @kaitlynw011 @daddystevee @slytherinxhunter @streetfighterrichie @sarcasticallywitty15 @isthereanymorejello

^let me know if you’d like to be added/removed! (& pls let me know if you’re 18+/comfortable with being tagged in smut) Xx

It had been a rough summer to say the least...at least in Fred’s opinion. He absolutely loved having you stay at the burrow, having been best friends with you since first year, but it truly was quite torturous at times.

He had long ago realized he had feelings for you, but pushed them away in fear of risking your friendship. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you as a friend, but godrick was it hard to keep pretending he wasn’t totally attracted and in love with you.

Watching you go around all summer in your tight, high-waisted shorts with your shirts tied into a knot to show your stomach was difficult to say the least. Even worse than that, seeing you in a bikini the handful of times you all went swimming.

You were beyond attractive and it was driving him mad seeing you in such minimal clothing.

The absolute worst outfit of yours to drive him insane, however, was your pajamas. Having known you were staying the entire summer at the burrow, you had many variations of pajamas, but they were all much too attractive to Fred.

He loved when you wore your short pajama shorts, usually landing just past your ass, along with a thin, baggy tee. He would never admit it to anyone, as he was much too embarrassed by it, but he couldn’t help but look at your chest when you wore a shirt like that for bed.

He knew you weren’t doing it for him by any means, but you never wore a bra to bed and you’d often cross your arms over your stomach when you’d encounter him. The action pushing your breasts up and into the thin fabric where he couldn’t help but imagine what your chest looked liked underneath. He nearly came in his pants the first few times he caught a glimpse of your hardened nipples through the shirt when it had been a bit of a cooler night.

Currently, he has locked himself in the bathroom away from his family as he has a major erection that won’t go away. He knows it’s not you’re fault, but you are certainly the reason behind this.

Having been one of the hotter days this summer, you had all decided you would spend the day swimming, which was fine, except for the fact that you wore a new bikini you must have gotten one of the days you had gone shopping with his sister and hermione.

It was absolutely stunning on you, but it created quite an issue for him. It was so tiny; covering your front, but essentially becoming a thong in the back. Not to mention it was extremely high cut, which elongated your already beautiful legs and accentuated the curves you had grown into magnificently. And then the top was literally just a strip of fabric, a bandeau he had heard you call it, but it just barely covered your breasts and it drove him wild.

The colour of it was phenomenal too, a dusty blue shade that complimented your skin tone perfectly. On top of all of that, you had your hair tied back into messy pigtails which somehow worked perfectly together even though it contradicted your outfit. Seeing you with pigtails was adorable and made you look so sweet and innocent, yet seeing you in that swimsuit brought on ideas that weren’t innocent in the slightest.

Then you had a spattering of freckles on your cheeks and shoulders that had reappeared after being in the sun this summer, which Fred just found intoxicatingly beautiful.

He had tried so hard to keep his thoughts clean, but then you had to go and ask him to help you apply sunblock to your back. He was doing so good, but then smearing the thick white cream across your back had him imagining all sorts of different scenarios.

It had only continued into nightfall as well. You all decided you wanted to do s’mores and hang out around a bonfire tonight after spending the late afternoon and early evening playing quidditch and then having a bbq dinner.

You had changed out of your swimsuit into a pair of jean shorts and an oversized hoodie, which in reality wasn’t the problem. Truthfully, it was the way Fred’s mind decided to work when looking at you.

He couldn’t help but wonder if you wearing a bra under the hoodie, knowing from you and his sister mentioning it that you girls didn’t like wearing a bra more than you had to.

And then his mind would start to wonder what your skin felt like having had sunblock put on you and swimming. He wondered if your skin would feel soft and maybe a bit warmer than it should as it looked to him that you had gotten a very slight sunburn.

And in general he just couldn’t help but get turned on by how attractive you were sitting there in an oversized hoodie - that could be his if he’d own up to his feelings. He couldn’t help but notice how adorable you were with your cheeks spattered with freckles and tinted pink from the sun, not to mention how happy you looked as you smiled and laughed along with your friends and his siblings.

He had finally excused himself after you locked eyes with him after one of his brothers told a funny story, biting your lip to keep from smiling so much. That was the last bit for him. It drove him crazy imagining what you’d look like biting your lip as you tried to contain your moans as he pounded into you. He had been holding on all summer and he just couldn’t push his thoughts away tonight.

So here he sat locked in the bathroom, trying to get his erection to go away but realizing he needed to relieve himself if he had any hope of getting rid of it.

He was honestly embarrassed, not wanting to jack off in the bathroom over his best friend while you were literally downstairs in his backyard.

He groaned as his cock twitched at the thought of you down there. He wanted you so bad that it was physically hurting him at the moment.

He sighs, slowly palming himself over his trousers just to relieve some of the discomfort. He really really didn’t want to fully masturbate right here right now. It was just too awkward.

He groaned as he touched himself, picturing your beautiful face smiling at him, his hips jerking forward when he recounted how gorgeous you were biting your lip.

Before he realized it he had his hand in his trousers, rubbing himself as he recounted all the times he had found you breathtaking this summer.

He groaned as he pictures you in your pajamas, your nipples visible through the thin material of your shirt. He groaned as he imagined you in your high waisted shorts that seemed to just barely cover your ass and accented your thighs that he would love to grab ahold of. He groaned, his eyes shutting tight as he pictured you in your bikinis, you ass essentially on show and your breasts not far behind.

“Oh fuck, y/n” he moaned, trying so desperately to be quiet.

~.~

You frowned when you realized Fred hadn’t come back yet. He never mentioned where he was going, but you were sure he wouldn’t have gone to bed already. Not at least without telling you guys so.

You figure you’ll go looking for him, especially since you wanted to grab another glass of water anyway.

You frown when you don’t see him in the living room or kitchen. Lost in your thoughts you decide to make your way upstairs just to see if he had maybe laid down for a bit.

Not finding him in his room you sigh. Where could the boy possibly be? It’s not like he could just vanish.

You stop when you hear, what you think is, groaning. Was Fred groaning? What for and where?

Slowly you follow the sounds to the bathroom and you let out a breath. At least you know where he is. You go to walk away just as he lets out a particularly loud groan, and it didn’t sound pleasant.

You knock gently on the door, frowning. You hoped he was okay.

Not hearing an answer you knock again, this time a little louder as you call out to him.

“Hey, Freddie. Are you alright?”

~.~

Fred stops, cheeks and ears burning in embarrassment. How bloody unlucky is he to have the girl he’s been masturbating to knock on the door as he’s still jerking himself off?

“Freddie?” He hears you ask again.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine, y/n. Everything’s good.” He sweats, trying so hard to not let his voice betray him.

He’s still so hard and turned on, all he really wants to do is bend you over the sink here and fuck you senseless. He wants you a moaning mess underneath him, begging for him to let you cum.

“Are you sure? You don’t sound good.”

“Y-yeah. I’m sure.”

He’s trying so hard to not let a groan out at hearing your voice and imagining what he could be doing to you right now. Unfortunately he lets one slip out which is more than enough for you to keep pressing.

“Fred weasley, if you don’t convince me that your good in the next few minutes I am coming in there to check on you. You sound sick.”

“I-I’m fine, y/n. Promise. Just p-please don’t come in here.” He nearly cries, thoroughly embarrassed by the situation, but wanting to continue so badly. He’s been so worked up this summer and it’s finally caught up with him.

You frown hearing how troubled he sounds. You can’t just leave him alone - what if he’s sick? Maybe he ate something bad or got too much sun today? You needed to see for yourself that he was okay.

You tell yourself that’s why you mumble alohomora and gently push open the door, making you way inside.

“Y/n! What are you doing?! P-please go.” Fred urges, trying to cover himself before you turn around to face him.

“Not until I know your alright. What’s wro-oh...” you trail off, taking in the sight in front of you.

If your not mistaken, you just walked in on your best friend masturbating. He was beyond flushed, mostly due to embarrassment at being caught, though. Not to mention how messy he looked; his hair messed up from him throwing his head back, his shirt all scrunched up on his chest, and his pants pulled down around his thighs.

You blush as you take in the sight, yet your not able to look away, probably because you’re so shocked and embarrassed yourself.

“I am so so sorry, Freddie. Uh, let me just leave you alone.” You tumble out, quickly turning back towards the door.

“Y/n, wait.” He calls, furiously flushing at the thought that passes through his head. “C-could you please help me?” He stutters out.

“H-help you? How?” You gulp, turning to face him with your face flushed.

“I, uh, I can’t get myself t-to finish. I need more.”

You gape at him, he’s asking you to get him off. Your best friend of six years, who you may have a tiny bit of a crush on, is asking you to get him off.

While the thought excites you, it also makes you beyond nervous. Sure you and the twins were close and flirted around with each other jokingly, but you’ve never once actually made any advancements with each other.

“I know it’s awkward, but I could really use the help.” He mumbles.

“O-okay. Uh, well let me see.”

You bite your bottom lip, completely embarrassed as he stretches himself out again, slowly moving his hand from himself.

You can barely hold back a groan as you take in the look of his cock all red and erect, precum oozing from the tip. It looks absolutely delicious and you forget about the fact that it’s your best friends.

Cautiously you take him in your hand, kneeling in between his legs as he sits on the toilet.

“Oh godrick,” he groans as your hand wraps around his member, the difference in touch enough to make him even harder.

“You’re so pretty, Fred.” You mumble, sliding your hand down his cock, watching as more precum beads at his tip. Gently you swipe your thumb across his slit, drawing a deep groan from inside him.

“Do more. Please, y/n. Please.” He begs, his head falling backwards as his eyes clench shut.

You smirk, loving the reaction your getting from him. Never in a million years did you think you be kneeling here in the burrow’s bathroom jerking your best friend off, but here you were and you were loving every second of it.

Becoming more confident at the sounds he’s letting out, you bring your mouth to him, licking your tongue over his tip.

“Oh fuck. Y/n, sweetheart. Please, please.” Fred groans, his hips jutting up towards your face.

“Please what, Freddie. Tell me what you want your best friend to do to you.”

He groans, jutting his hips yet again at your words. He knows how filthy this situation is. Even though he loves you, you two aren’t anything more than friends and yet here you are ready to suck him off. He knows how wrong it is, yet at the same time it feels far too good to stop.

“Come on, Freddie, love. Tell me what you want.” You coo, slowly licking up and down his cock, paying attention to the vein on the underside of him as well as the edge of his head.

“I-I want your mouth, princess. I want your lips around me.” He groans, trying to watch you as you smile and bring your head closer to him.

“Good boy, Freddie. Very good.” You praise as take him in your mouth, feeling the weight against your tongue and swallowing around him to see how difficult it was.

“Fuck, princess.” He groans, throwing his head back as you do so.

You smirk and swallow around him again before sinking your head down on him more to the point of him hitting your throat.

Fred moans, grabbing at your hair that you had taken out of the braids from earlier.

“Fuck me, y/n. Please. I want you so bad.” Fred nearly cries, tugging at your hair.

You pull off of him, a string of saliva staying connected for a few seconds as he juts his hips into the air.

“You want me around you, baby. Is that what you said?” You ask, kissing at his neck.

“You want to be inside me while I ride you?”

“Yes. Yes, please, princess. Please.”

You chuckle at his neediness, leaving a few more kisses you neck as you stand up.

Slowly you unbutton your bottoms, sliding them down your legs as Fred watches lazily, his cock twitching at seeing you undressing.

“Like what you see, baby?”

“I love it.” Fred growls, eyeing you as you slip your panties down.

You don’t bother with your hoodie as it won’t be in the way. That and you don’t have a shirt or bra on underneath it and your not quite comfortable being completely naked in front of your best friend.

“You ready, baby? You ready for me to sit on your big cock?”

Fred groans, loving your dirty talk. He never would have imagined you taking charge during sex, but then again he never imagined that he would be begging you to get him off. Even though this isn’t quite what he had been imagining, it was still better than nothing. In fact, he almost thought this was better.

“Freddie, baby. You have to tell me what you’re thinking.” You urge, straddling him, but not yet sliding down on him.

“Yes. Yes, I’m ready. I want you to sit in my big cock, princess. I want my best friend to ride me.” He groans, grabbing a hold of your waist as you grind against him, spreading your wetness on his cock. It makes him proud to feel how wet you are, he’s only hoping all of it was because of him.

“Good job, Freddie.” You smile, kissing his collarbones as you slide yourself onto his cock, moaning out at how amazing it feels.

He was just big enough to stretch you out and it felt amazing. You honestly wished you had done this sooner.

“Oh fuck, baby. You feel so good. Feel so good inside me.” You moan, bouncing on his cock as he guides your hips.

“Ohh, Freddie. Right there.” You groan as he rubs right against the spot you need him.

“You like that, princess? You like riding your best friends cock? You love the way I’m filling you up?”

“Yes, Freddie. Love it. Love you and your cock. Feels so, so good.” You groan, arching your back as he hits a spot inside you.

“Oh godrick, y/n.” Fred groans, wrapping his arms around you as he pulls you closer to him, his cock twitching happily inside you as your walls clench around him.

“Are you going to cum, Freddie? Going to fill up your best friends pussy with your cum?”

“I know how much you want to.” You whisper in his ear, nibbling at the lobe.

“Oh, fuck. Yes, princess. I want to fill you with my cum. I want to fill you so bad. Please let me, princess. Please.”

“I’m all yours, Freddie.” You smile dreamily, groaning as he juts up into you, his cock twitching.

“Oh, fuuuuck.” He groans, shooting his load inside you as you let out a high pitched whine as you hit your high along with him.

“Oh, fuck. Fuck, princess.”

“That was amazing, Freddie. Do you feel better now?” You ask, breathily heavily into his shoulder as you slump against him.

“So much better, princess. Thank you.”

You smile, nodding lazily as you catch your breath. Now that you’re finished, your not quite sure what to do. Was this just a one time thing? What does this mean for you two? Does this change anything?

“Stop thinking.” Fred chuckles, wrapping his arms around you as your still sitting on him.

“Can’t help it, Freddie.”

“You’re such a worry wart. We literally just had sex, hell my dick is still inside you, and you’re mind is already five steps ahead.”

“Does this change anything for us?”

“I would hope so. You’re the reason I was so worked up in the first place, y/n.” He chuckles, pushing your hair out of your face as you look at him.

“Me?”

“Yeah, you. You are so bloody sexy without even trying and it drives me mad. I love having you here this summer, but Merlin has it been torture.”

“Yeah? How so, weasley?” You ask, leaning back and moaning as you forgot he was still inside you.

“If I tell you, we’re going to have to go for a round two; just thinking about you gets me hard.”

“And as much as I’d love to fuck you senseless, my siblings and our friends are probably wondering where we went off to.” Fred says, grinding your hips down into him.

You moan softly, your eyes shutting at the pleasure he’s bringing you.

“So, it’s your choice, sweetheart. We can either go downstairs and pretend that nothing just happened up here, or we can makeup some excuse to explain our absence and we can go continue this in percy’s old room. What do you want to do?”

You whine, not liking how much control he has over you right now. He’s got ahold of your hips, slowly grinding you down into him with his cock still inside you, and he’s letting you make the decision which is the last thing you want to do right now.

“What is it going to be, princess?” He coaxed, kissing at your neck as you had done to him earlier.

“Ohhhh fuck, Freddie. I hate you.” You groan, hating that he’s making you choose.

“I want you.” You moan, burying your face into his chest as it screws up in pleasure.

“Yeah? You want me to go fuck you in percy’s room? You want me to wreck your pussy and fill it with my cum again?”

“Yes, Freddie. Please.”

He smirks, kissing your forehead as he lifts you off of his dick.

“Alright, princess. You get your shorts on and go up to percy’s room. I’m going to go tell everyone that you got a migraine and that I’m going to keep an eye on you for awhile, yeah? I’ll be right up there.”

“I love you, Freddie.” You mumble.

“I love you too, princess. Now go. I’ll be up in a minute. No touching yourself, okay?”

You whine, but nod when he gives you a look. You’ve been wanting him for years and now he’s going to leave you like this after you just rode him? Granted he’ll be back, but you don’t want to wait. If he doesn’t hurry back, you might just have to do what he told you not to.

————————

Part 2 !!

#harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter smut #harry potter fanfiction #fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley smut #fred weasley fanfic #hp imagine #hp smut #hp fanfic #smut

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soobmint · 3 years

Text

where monsters hide (txt) - chapter one

series masterlist | my masterlist

taglist ; @chanluster @honeyju @magicalstellar @jannine00742 @wairaminute @cupidtyun

couldn't tag: @amand-uhh

note ; guys i am SO sorry for the long wait, i was reminded today that i never posted chapter one to tumblr! but here it is :) i have gotten a lot of my inspiration back and will be working on this fic to the best of my abilities. let me know what you all think, and happy reading!

C H A P T E R O N E : T H E P R O M I S E

TAEHYUN

THE SMELL OF THE WORLD BURNING AROUND HIM WAS A SCENT ALL TOO FAMILIAR TO KANG TAEHYUN.

It seemed to be ingrained into the very essence of who he was. Fire, blazing white light, the sizzle of his touch. All of these were a part of him, although the knowledge of his own identity seemed to fade further into the back of his skull as every second passed.

Perhaps that was why he felt as though he were trapped in a haze as he lay on his back in a pile of sticks and leaves, the sounds of fire crackling barely heard through the ringing in his ears, bits of ash falling like flakes of snow all around him. He was afraid, but deep down, he felt as though he should have been at peace. It was, after all, fire and dust that had given him life to begin with.

But when he cast his gaze up to the stars, the young boy was not filled with peace.

It was instead fear that trickled through his veins. The biggest star in the sky, burning brighter than all the rest, seemed to blind him as he shifted uncomfortably on the ground, leaves crunching below his weight. The slip of paper in his pocket seemed to burn a hole through his skin as he grew painfully aware, once again, of the reason why he had been created. He wanted — no, he needed to escape the glare of that damned star before it drove him to pure insanity. The words of the celestial being began to buzz in the back of his mind, haunting him, nearly choking him with their persistence.

“Rise, my son. Your work has just begun.”

If he had the courage to challenge the stars, he would have screamed no from the top of his lungs right then and there. That courage, however, was something he lacked. He was a quiet boy, never one to boast without any merit. And when it came to his dealings with the things above, not a single word of confidence had ever slipped past his lips.

So he knew he had no choice but to rise as he had been instructed.

He struggled to his feet, every muscle in his body begging for more rest. After gaining his balance, he reached a hand to his face, checking to make sure the patch still covered his left eye. Somehow, amidst all the chaos and destruction, it had managed to stay put. He was thankful for that, at the very least.

The forest he had just begun to call home was painted shades of furious reds and oranges. Even with the patch over his eye, the world looked brighter to Taehyun than it did to most. The shapes of the trees and each blade of grass seemed to be outlined in ink, colors deeply saturated, dimensions and depth all the more real to him than they would have been for the average person. The flames were somewhat distant from where the edge of the forest where he and his friends had collapsed, but they were still close enough to make his skin crawl as the orange glow in the distance seemed to taunt him with its presence.

His friends.

With his heart in his throat, he whipped his head around, placing his hand on the trunk of a nearby tree to steady himself. His three companions hadn’t made a single sound since he had regained consciousness, so he hadn’t even thought about them at first.

When his eyes landed on the first of his friends, his breath caught in his throat.

Choi Yeonjun was a few yards away from the tree Taehyun was leaning against. He was on his knees, fists wrapped around one of the ivory antlers that extended far above him, the base of it lost beneath his ashy hair.

With a stroke of horror, Taehyun watched as his friend began to yank on his horn. An awful groan ricocheted off the trees, so sharp that he thought his ears might bleed. Yeonjun’s eyes squeezed shut from the pain as violet blood began to leak from his head, dripping like rain down his face that was caked with dirt and grime. He pulled, and pulled, and pulled — until Taehyun finally came to his senses as he rushed towards his older friend and shouted, “Yeonjun, wait!”

But he was much too late.

By the time he had planted his feet in front of his friend, the purple blood was everywhere, burning furiously into Taehyun’s vision. It stained the crisp grass, the barks of the nearby trees, the trembling hands of the frightened boy, and the broken horn that lay on the ground in front of him.

Taehyun knew that all of Yeonjun’s power came from his horns. He also knew that they were a part of him that he could not simply erase. And by trying to do so, he would cause himself a world of pain far greater than anything he had ever imagined.

“Yeonjun,” Taehyun whispered as he fell to his knees beside him, his own shaking fingers gripping onto the eldest’s sleeve. “Why did you do that? Aren’t you in pain?”

“My fault,” he mumbled, glazed eyes fixed on his bloodstained hands. “This is all my fault.”

“Nothing is your fault, Yeonjun.” Taehyun watched with wide eyes as his friend reached for his other horn, most likely preparing to do the same thing to that one that he had done to the other. Taehyun grabbed Yeonjun’s hands, clasping them tightly in his own. “Stop it, you’ve hurt yourself enough.”

“It’s all because of me,” He choked, tears streaming through his dirt stained cheeks. “Our home, our families, our friends; they’re all gone because of me. I’m — I’m a monster.”

“No, you’re not.”

Taehyun looked over his shoulder at the sound of another voice, sighing in relief when he saw the second of his friends, Choi Beomgyu, limping towards them. A cluster of black spires protruded from his back and shoulders, twisting and turning as they extended into the night air. He must have used his powers, Taehyun realized, as that was what the spikes from his back signified. They would eventually disappear the longer he went without using his abilities.

His silver hair was plastered to his face from sweat, eyes puffy and red from tears that had ceased to fall. Yet, despite his haggard appearance and the obvious injury he had suffered to his leg, Beomgyu did his best to smile as he sank to the ground beside the other two, wrapping his arm around Yeonjun’s shoulders.

“If you’re a monster, what does that make the rest of us?” He asked, wincing at the sight of Yeonjun’s splintered horn on the ground before him. “Would you call Taehyun, Soobin and I devils then? Since you seem so comfortable putting labels to things when you have no business doing so.”

Under different circumstances, Taehyun might have laughed at Beomgyu’s verbal jabs. However, a much more pressing issue weighed upon his mind. “Wait — where’s Soobin?”

Beomgyu furrowed his brows. “I haven’t seen him since the explosion. I thought he was with you.”

Taehyun’s pulse was loud in his ears as he jumped to his feet. Leaving Yeonjun with Beomgyu, he began looking around, crunching leaves and dried out grass beneath his sneakers.

“Soobin?” He called, wide eyes taking in every possible hiding place. He looked behind trees, beneath bushes — anywhere a person could possibly hide. He looked for the baby blue glow that his older friend emanated, growing more desperate as each second passed.

“Soobin! Soobin, where are you?” He was yelling now, hoarse voice cracking with fear. “Answer me, please!”

There was a rustle nearby, and Taehyun halted his steps, eyes darting in the direction of the sound. He saw a black shoe peeking from behind a rose bush, with blood stains and scorch marks all over the white sole. Taehyun stumbled towards the shoe, collapsing onto the ground with relief when he saw his tall friend curled up against the bush, thorns pressing against the bare skin of his neck, tears overflowing his bloodshot eyes.

“Soobin,” he said, taking his friend’s hands in his. “Are you okay?”

Soobin didn’t respond. He simply began to shake, his lower lip trembling as silent rivers of tears continued to flow down his cheeks.

“Say something,” Taehyun begged, squeezing his cold hands. He knew that Soobin could hear him with his enhanced hearing, so there was no way his voice wasn’t getting through.. “Please?”

He was only met with more silence, until another voice called out from behind him.

“Guys?”

Taehyun turned around, stomach dropping when he saw a young boy dressed in all white who seemed to glow in the pitch black night. He held a plastic bag in one hand with the words “Happy Birthday!” printed across the front, and a single balloon in the other. His eyes were wide, his lips parted in shock as the wind blew his ebony curls over his face, blocking his vision.

“Kai!” Beomgyu shouted, rushing towards the boy with Yeonjun close behind him. Taehyun stood as well, pulling Soobin up with him before leading him over to where the others had gathered.

“What are you doing here?” Beomgyu asked, hands firmly grasping Kai’s shoulders. “You need to go home. Now.”

“It’s Yeonjun’s sixteenth birthday,” Kai said softly, still shaken from the sight of his broken friends and their burning forest. One of the balloons slipped from his grasp, leisurely floating away into the smoky night. “We were supposed to celebrate tonight, remember? What happened?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Beomgyu insisted, pushing Kai away firmly. “You need to leave. It’s too dangerous for you here.”

“But what about you?” Kai asked, tears brimming in his doe eyes. “Your home . . . you can’t go back to it, can you?”

“There’s nothing left to return to,” Yeonjun whispered, looking down as he picked at the callous on his palm. “It’s my fault.”

“Stop saying that.” Taehyun’s voice was calm, yet firm. He kept his arm around the still silent Soobin, fixing his eyes on Kai, who had begun to sniffle through his tears. “Kai, Beomgyu’s right. You can’t stay here.”

“If it’s too dangerous for me, then it’s too dangerous for you too.” Kai reached forward, grabbing hold of Taehyun’s sleeve. “You’re not invincible just because you have powers and I don’t. Come home with me. We have a place for you to stay.”

The four others exchanged a glance. Soobin began to tremble once more, causing Taehyun to tighten the grip he had round his friend’s shoulders. It was impossible, really, the thought of them leaving the forest to find a place amongst the human world to which Kai belonged. They were different from those who dwelled there. They had horns that grew from their heads with the power of ancient beasts coursing through them. They had spires that rose like black ice from their backs, twisting and turning and buzzing with magic that controlled the very matter of the earth. They had ears that heard the most distant cries and the softest whispers and eyes that saw the world in vibrant pigments that glowed and sparkled even in the dreariest of places.

To put it simply, these boys were quite unique.

But Kai was right. They couldn’t return to their home in the forest. Not then, and not ever again. At least if they followed Kai, they would be with a friend that they knew and trusted.

“Maybe we should go with him, for a while at least,” Taehyun suggested. “Just until we find another place to go.”

Beomgyu shrugged. “Sounds better than sleeping somewhere out in the open. A pretty boy like me fetches a good price on the black market, you know.”

Taehyun nearly rolled his eyes at that.

The corner of Yeonjun’s lip twitched, almost forming a smile. “I agree. We can’t stay long, but it’s better than nothing for the time being.”

They all looked to Soobin then, who had remained silent throughout the entire exchange. His face was blanched, his glazed eyes unfocused and foggy.

“Soobin?” Kai asked, furrowing his brows. “Is that okay with you?”

The trembling boy remained speechless, his lower lip beginning to shake. Taehyun glanced over at Beomgyu, who mirrored his own look of concern. Soobin had always been quiet, but not like this. It was frightening, the way that not a single word would slip through his lips no matter how badly they tried to draw one out of him.

Before he had a chance to say anything else to his silent friend, Taehyun noticed something in the leaves beneath their feet. A bright beam of light was focused upon the ground before them, burning a hole straight through the leaves. The others noticed it as well, all of them taking a step closer as the beam of light grew stronger and began to move, etching its way through the leaves and grass. Small pillars of smoke rose from the ground, tickling the insides of Taehyun’s nose.

When it was done, the beam of light disappeared. Taehyun looked up at the Star, his heart in his throat. He had finally received his message.

“Was that the Father Star?” Beomgyu asked, his own eyes fixed upon the same spot in the sky.

“I think so,” Taehyun said quietly, although truly, he knew so.

“It left a message,” Yeonjun said, crouching down to the ground to inspect where the Star had left his mark. The other four friends crouched all around him, four and a half pairs of eyes taking in the image that had been burned into the ground.

They saw a picture of five boys, their hands connected to form the shape of a star. The lines were simple, easy to comprehend. Below the image, a single word had been written.

Promise.

“Promise? Promise what?” Kai scratched the back of his head, looking to his older friends for help. Unfortunately, they were all as confused as he was.

Well, all except for Taehyun. He knew exactly what the Star’s intentions were.

“I think he wants us to promise that we’ll stay together,” He said, tracing his thumb along the image of the boys and their intertwined hands. “No matter what.”

They looked at one another, a thousand unspoken words of grief and fear passing through them like radio silence. They were terrified, no doubt. Their world had fallen to bits and pieces right before their eyes. Everything had been lost, and nothing would ever be the same for them ever again.

Yet they still had one another. And in the depths of their sorrow and in the throws of their loss, that simple truth was enough. It had to be enough.

For if they were to lose one another, they may as well lose themselves entirely.

This guiding truth amongst themselves was what led them all to place their hands over the Star’s drawing, their hearts pounding, heads rushing with thoughts and worries and everything in between.

“Let’s promise then,” Beomgyu said, his eyes watering once more. “We’ll stick together and get through this. We have to.”

“How about we promise to meet back here in five years?” Kai suggested. “That way something truly motivates us to keep our word.

They all agreed to that heartily, Soobin silently nodding his agreement. Taehyun sighed, pressing his hand further against the cool ground as he closed his eyes and whispered, “It’s a promise.”

When they arose and made their way out of the treeline, hand in hand, Taehyun cast one last glance at the night’s brightest star, his heart heavy in his chest. For he knew that the promise the five of them just made was one that could never be broken. Those that wished to test the boundaries of the stars were likely to die trying.

He knew this, for he himself belonged to the Father Star, and all the galaxies far beyond him. It was a secret he was to carry with him to the grave no matter the cost, even if he had to lose everything to do so.

52 notes · View notes

drawlfoy · 3 years

Text

Wonders of Ohio P.9

masterlist

requests are closed, but please read this first :)

if you want to be tagged, send an ask or message me!

pairing: draco x reader

request: nope, my original shameless self insert idea lmao

summary: american high school senior y/n y/l/n is in for the ride of her life when their exchange student is...a bit strange (but very hot). NOT a nonmagic AU, though you already knew that if you’ve read part 8 ;)

warnings: swearing, mentions of a break in, concerns about a home intruder, objectively the most fluffy scene we’ve gotten so far in this series (hehe), draco being fucking obnoxious and moody (did i mention swearing?)

a/n: ayoooooo so here’s part 9, as promised. i’ve started getting back into the hp universe more and more, so i should probably be picking up my writing soon. i’ve been feeling more myself again!! which is super awesome. i don’t think many people read this series anymore (or my author notes in general but i don’t blame yall) but i’m having a lot of fun writing it, so i’m going to keep going :)

music recs:

puppy princess -- hot freaks

loverboy -- A-wall

linger -- the cranberries

tags tags tags: @gruffle1 @missmulti @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @naiomimoonshard @jejegu @ophelia-enthusiast @alwaysbeanunknownfan @nearly-memories @litty-dumb @callieclearwater @malfoy-wife15 @charlenasaxen @belladaises @fiantomartell @writeandtranslate @erisdogwood @loveissupernatural @sycathorn-slush @big-galaxy-chaos

word count: 3.8k :)

Y/N couldn’t help but wonder if Draco deliberately waited until the last minute to tell her family that he was leaving so he could evade her questioning. She tried to talk to him later that evening by knocking on his door, but she was met with complete silence.

Draco was ignoring her, and she didn’t get why. She’d promised to not tell anyone--even begged for him to trust her and essentially swore on her life--but he still wasn’t acting normal. Perhaps he didn’t want her to badger him with questions about the magical world.

Or maybe this was an excuse to get away from her.

Y/N swallowed the second possibility and locked it away somewhere out of sight. He’d left without a single word more to her (not even a congratulations for getting into a top 20 school, that loser) and never even bothered telling her when he’d return. And maybe that was the nicest part of it--she could pretend like he was never coming back.

As attractive as that option was, she had to admit that there was a Draco-shaped hole in her passenger car seat every time she drove to school. And in the kitchen when she was studying. And everywhere else he’d once touched.

“Why do you think he went back?”

Y/N took a break from reviewing her Art History final exam notes to look up at Lizzy. “Maybe something happened with his dad or he wanted to spend his holidays with his family? It’s probably not that serious.”

“Speaking of his dad, I tried to look up his name and see if anything came up,” Lizzy began. Y/N felt her heart jump into her throat. “Don’t you think it’s kinda sus? I haven’t found anything for him. It’s like he’s been completely wiped off the face of the earth. Do you know anything about it?”

“Honestly, I don’t think it’s any of my business.” Draco’s franticness when she found out lingered in the back of her mind as she chose her words carefully. “I’m sure if he’s a genuine political target, they’ve just scrubbed the web clean of him, being a minor and all.”

“But don’t you think it’s funny that he’s apparently so important but there’s no evidence of him or his father ever existing?”

“Lizzy.” Her voice was firm. “It’s entirely possible that his real name is different. And either way, it’s not our story to uncover. He’s entitled to his own privacy, and if he doesn’t reveal his true identity then we need to respect that.”

“Oooookaaayyyyy, Mother,” said Lizzy. “You’re so fun. You know that, right?”

“It’s my job.”

After the close brush with Lizzy, Y/N avoided the topic of Draco with her friends like wildfire. At the back of her mind, she registered that that was probably more suspicious, but when Sylvia asked her about him during lunch, she finally spun up a story.

“I told him I liked him,” she told everyone, the words stinging her throat. “He doesn’t feel the same way. I just would feel better if we dropped it.”

Her friends reacted immediately with sympathy, telling her that it wasn’t her fault that he couldn’t see her for what she was worth. Somehow, this made her feel worse. She didn’t even need to tell him her feelings to know his thoughts--he didn’t see her as anything but a “muggle”, or whatever he called them. She never stood a chance.

Y/N spent an embarrassing amount of time wondering how things would’ve been different if she was a witch. She didn’t know anything about his world (apart from the fact that they really had a stick up their asses about people knowing of them) but she somehow craved a place in it. Would Draco feel differently towards her if she was magic?

It was probably better if she didn’t pay too much mind to it, but she couldn’t let the thought go. Every time she shut her eyes at night, the memory of waking up next to Draco replayed in her head, over and over. She would’ve sold her soul to have gone back to that. Would things have been different if she had just...not found the letters? She was driving herself crazy digging through all her interactions with him. There’s no way she was imagining things, and judging by the surprised reactions of her friends when she told them he didn’t reciprocate feelings, she wasn’t the only one who thought something was there. If he was really so disgusted by her and her people, he wouldn’t have let her sleep in his room, in his bed no less.

As December wore on, her mind began to be occupied by another feverish stream of thoughts. If she didn’t already feel like she was going crazy over the Draco problem, she was going completely insane over the fact that she was misplacing things like crazy and forgetting the most basic of things. It seemed like it was almost every day that she was forgetting where she put her keys (even though she could’ve sworn she’d hung them up by the door) or getting home to find the door already unlocked even though she was sure that she’d locked it behind her. It would’ve creeped her out, but she was really off kilter. It just wasn’t right having Draco away, and the sense of dread she got every time she went by her room just threw her off balance. What if she still had lingering sickness from whatever magical infliction she suffered?

He really should’ve stuck around to watch after me. Just in case.

Another thing was bothering her--a name she saw pop up in the pouch from when she went through his letters. It was a small portion of his collection, and she didn’t even think to examine it until after he took them back from her, but she noticed that the name “Pansy Parkinson” came up more than once as a return address.

Her mind immediately jumped to the worst--Draco was madly in love with another girl, a magical girl, and traveled back home with the express purpose of declaring his neverending devotion for her and complaining about that rat Ohioan muggle that he had to spend his days with.

Y/N knew it wasn’t healthy, but no matter what she did, she couldn’t quite shake it. The fact that he’d no doubt grown up around girls that would be suitable for him to date was making her physically ill with jealousy, which was probably the most embarrassing part of her feelings for him. Nevermind how much time she spent fantasizing about how soft his hair felt or how his stupidly pretty fingers would feel grazing her skin--she couldn’t even cope with the idea of him existing with other women that were honestly a better choice to him.

That Christmas was surprisingly bleak. Being an only child always made for a quiet house during the holidays, but the expectation she held of having Draco there set her up for disappointment. Her house felt empty.

“Do you think he’s coming back?” Y/N asked her mother as they did the morning dishes together.

“Well, I assume so. Why wouldn’t he? He was scheduled to spend the entire year with us. I think that if he’s changed his mind we would at least know by now.”

“What if he’s still deciding?”

“Why, miss him already?” Mrs. Y/L/N’s tone was teasing, but she felt her cheeks grow hot.

“Quite the contrary. I’m just wondering if I’m about to become the pampered only child again or if I’m going to need to go back into the unglamorous life of sharing the spotlight.”

“Y/N,” her mother tutted. She’d stopped doing the dishes.

Y/N made a point to evade her knowing look. “Mom.”

Her mother took a breath before answering. “Nothing. As a matter of fact, I did get a letter from him a few days ago. He’s scheduled to return the second week of January, right before school goes back.”

“Oh,” said Y/N. No matter how hard she tried, there’s no way her relief wasn’t visible.

“How’s that for your Christmas gift, hm?”

“Mom!”

“Hey! Hey, it was a joke,” Mrs. Y/L/N said, throwing her hands up in a “no can do” sort of gesture. “I know that you’re good friends with him is all. Unless…”

“Mom!” Her cheeks were all shades of red.

“All I’m saying is that he seems to enjoy your company.”

“Stockholm syndrome, I’m telling you.” Her explanation of what that meant was on the tip of her tongue before she stopped herself. There was no reason to--the only person who would need that explained to them was no longer on the same continent as her.

“Whatever you’d like to think.”

The snowstorm hit them without warning, two days after Christmas. Her parents had left for the night to attend a charity auction, but unfortunately for Y/N, by the time that they realized that their daughter would be snowed in, the roads were too dangerous to drive on. Y/N begrudgingly agreed to do all of the things they told her to--get the generator ready, make sure the fireplace was prepared, and locate all the candles in the house.

On any normal day, she wouldn’t have been concerned in the slightest, but she’d felt uneasy in her house ever since the night of the break-in, and now that this was the first night she’d have to spend alone, her heart was pounding at the thought of having to sleep in an empty house. Especially if the power was out. Especially when whoever broke in was still on the loose.

She locked up at dusk, making sure that every entry to her home was completely sealed shut. The generator was in the basement, all set up in the case that the lights went out. She’d located all the bottled water in her house in case the pipes froze, and she finally retired to her room to relax.

The sense of dread that hovered around Draco’s room was gone, thankfully. The overall feeling of creepiness was just beginning to lose its jarring sting, but she’d never quite been able to shake how many things she misplaced in the beginning of the month.

She busied herself with mundane activities--she cleaned out her closet, organized her drawers, read, changed her sheets, and finished the last of her homework--but nothing could distract her from the gnawing inside of her. The hairs on the back of her neck constantly stood up, even when she was tucked away in the corner of her room, nestled into her blankets. The tingling was akin to what she felt when she walked into that antique shop on homecoming night--the same night when Draco helped her off her feet and narrowly kept her from throwing up all over Heather.

Looking back on it, she realized that when he grabbed her wrist, he must’ve done something to quell her nausea, something magical. There was no way her carsickness could’ve been able to disappear so quickly.

Her soliloquy was interrupted by what sounded like footsteps outside. Before she could assess the situation and decide what she was going to do, a boom sounded off in the distance and she was all of a sudden bathed in darkness.

Y/N froze.

Someone was most definitely outside her house, but thankfully she’d locked all the doors. And, thankfully, the boom told her that her fuse box hadn’t been messed with. A tree had probably just fallen on a transformer.

But those small comforts still didn’t change the fact that she was no longer alone--and not only that, but no longer alone without power.

Her thoughts were interrupted once again by banging on her front door. Y/N jumped, just barely managing to clap her hand over her mouth to muffle her shriek. She’d seen enough horror movies to know that alerting someone that you were home wasn’t the smartest move. She’d have to be strategic.

Heart pounding out of her chest, she crept out of her room and down the stairs. The power outage was quite lucky, she realized, as whoever was outside couldn’t see in. The moon only cast a slight light as it reflected off of the snow, so she was going to be able to see the person outside before they would see her.

She squinted from her perch by the base of the staircase. She could make out a silhouette, a tall and lanky one. The weak moonlight reflected off a very light head of hair, and Y/N was struck with a feeling of familiarity.

No way...

Y/N stood frozen for a few seconds as she heard the person knock on the door again. A muffled version of a familiar British voice said, “Is anyone there?”

Throwing all caution to the wind and praying to any higher power that was listening to her that her suspicion was correct, she pushed down on the doorknob and swung it open.

Her heart stopped.

“Draco? What are you--”

Before she could get another word out of her mouth, she was pulled into the tightest (and snowiest) hug of her life. One of his arms wrapped solidly around her waist, the other reaching further up to her shoulders to hold her closer. He was tall enough in comparison that he could rest his chin on the top of her head while she cautiously clasped her hands around him, breathing in the same soft pine scent that she knew so well.

When he finally let go of her, she noticed that his face was decidedly less pale than what it had been when she first opened the door. At a loss for words, Y/N just made her way behind him and shut the door to keep the storm from blowing any more snowflakes in. She noted that Draco was shaking.

“You’re okay,” he said, his voice low and quiet.

She grinned. “Yeah. Believe it or not, I’m not that scared of the dark.”

He didn’t look nearly as amused, wringing his hands out in front of him instead of meeting her eyes.

“You’re going to freeze to death if you’re gonna just stand there in soaking clothes,” she chided. “And what are you doing back half a month early? I know you must’ve missed me, but I didn’t expect you to miss me THAT much.”

He rolled his eyes, bringing Y/N the comfort that the sarcastic asshole was still in there. “We need to talk.”

“No, what you need to do is get changed into dry clothes,” she said. “Not sure if you’ve noticed, but until we get our generator working, there’s no heat...and I’m not sure if the Ministry is going to like it if I let you die on my watch.”

Even though he didn’t normally laugh at her jokes, he seemed especially solemn when she said this. It became very clear to her then that he regretted his brief display of affection.

“What are you doing, just standing here? Shoo! I don’t want to see you dripping snow all over the rug.” She waved him off until he made his way up the stairs, still eerily silent.

Once she was sure he was actually getting dressed, she made her way to the kitchen where she started heating up the water. She’d never been more thankful for the fact that they had a gas stove instead of an electric one.

The tea was almost finished brewing by the time that Draco was back downstairs, perched awkwardly on the couch. She’d never seen his sweater before--it was in a rich forest green with a silver crest of a snake.

“Are you going to tell me whatever is going on? I’ve never seen you like this before,” asked Y/N as she handed him the mug that she knew to be his favorite.

He took a sip and waited a bit before responding. “I found out some things while I was away.”

“Is that it? Must’ve been something pretty interesting for you to come in here and act like I’m your long lost love or whatever.” She took careful note of how his cheeks were especially pink, but it must’ve been because of the cold.

“I shouldn’t tell you everything, but I think you should probably know the gist of things,” he began. “First of all, I figured out why I couldn’t use the Obliviation cube on you. Also, you have to consent to an Unbreakable Vow.”

“A...what? Care to elaborate? Like, at least a little? Why didn’t it work on me?”

He sighed, a sharp breath of air that left his lungs in a huff. “Because you stumbled upon a very important box that can bestow the gift of magic onto anyone. And since you did something in your dream to try and open it, it permanently took root in you. I tried to reverse it, but there’s always going to be an imprint of magic on you.”

“Sick. So I’m a witch now? Like you?”

“No.” His tone was sour. “No, you’re not. For that to work, there needs to be a ritual actually completed by someone magical. That’s why you got so sick--because you would’ve needed me to help you through your dream sequence and open up the box. So, now that you’ve essentially pushed yourself into the magical world uninvited, I can’t use anything on you that’s catered towards Muggles.”

“Rats,” said Y/N. “That’s no fun. What about the whole part about my safety? And what’s that vow thing?”

“Apparently someone really, really wants that box,” Draco told her. “It doesn’t just give muggles the gift of magic--it can also give current wizards powers that are otherwise completely unavailable to the rest of the population. In the wrong hands, they could wreak havoc on the world. And I’m almost positive they think you have it.”

“Oh…” Everything started falling into place. “So, the break in? That probably was them right? And, uh, let’s say if you feel like maybe someone has been in your house while you’ve been gone? Like, that’s something I should be worried about, right?”

“Is that happening to you?” His face looked significantly more pale.

Y/N was tempted to tell him no--just to ease his nerves--but something in his look told her that she needed to be truthful. “Um, kind of. You know how I can be forgetful, though. It’s just little things, like sometimes I come home to find that the front door is unlocked when I’m sure I locked it, or I can’t find little things like my car keys and my phone, but it’s all easily explained.”

“I never should’ve left,” he said, tucked his knees up to his chest. “I should’ve known that that was Merlin’s Box.” He swallowed, meeting her eyes with a gaze that looked so forlorn that her heart ached. “I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, hey, all we have to do is tell them I don’t have the box, right? And then they’ll leave me alone.”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I assume so, but if they didn’t find the box when they originally ransacked your room and they’re still hanging around, I don’t know what to do. That’s why I can’t obliviate you, the proper way that we use on wizards, because I can’t always be there to save you. Once I’m gone, you’re going to have to manage on your own.”

“Please, Draco,” said Y/N. “People will always talk a big game, but once I pull out my pepper spray it’s over. I can take care of myself! I didn’t need protection while you’re away.”

He smiled then, a small one that seemed more sad than anything. “You sound like me. When I was younger.”

“You probably don’t even know what pepper spray is. What’s that vow thing?”

“You have to promise that you won’t say anything that would reveal what you know about me and my world,” said Draco. “I need to find a wizard to say the incantations, but it shouldn’t be too hard. I ended up telling the Ministry what happened--I’m not going to get sent away as they have a clear record of me at least attempting to wipe your memory and they agree that you need to be able to protect yourself. Unbreakable Vows are just really intense promises. If you break it, you die.”

“Is that your way of saying you don’t really trust my word?”

He rolled his eyes. “It’s required by the Ministry. If you don’t comply, then you’re going to be completely obliviated and then you can have as much fun as you’d like trying to run from whoever that criminal is without even knowing why they’re after you. Oh, and without me.”

“Then why are you even offering the vow? Don’t you want to go home?”

Draco took a long drink from his mug. “I still have a sentence to carry out. If I go back home, I’ll get sent to the same prison that my father is being held at right now.”

“A...sentence?” Y/N stared at him. “I know you mentioned a punishment, but a sentence?”

He remained silent and refused to meet her eyes.

“Draco, what exactly did you have to do?”

“It’s none of your business,” he snapped. The sudden switch of tone made Y/N start, but he was unwavering in his scowl. “I’d prefer to not think about it.”

“But...Draco…” Y/N cast her gaze to the ground so she didn’t have to see the no doubt furious look in his eyes when she continued to push. “How bad? Do you think that maybe whoever is after me might know that I don’t have the box anymore? And that they might be trying to seek revenge against you for whatever it was that you did instead?”

He didn’t respond.

“Think about it. That would explain why I was untouched this whole time that you were away when they were still keeping tabs on me.”

With a pronounced bonk, he set his mug down on the coffee table. “I’m going to bed.”

She managed to get one more look at his face before he spun around to head up the stairs and was shocked to see what was etched into his face--anger, yes, frustration...and also shame. Unmistakable shame.

final a/n: weeoooooooo i’m like 3 minutes early...this is a monumental moment for my blog. let me know what you guys think (if there’s still people sticking with this series fjkds;al). i am going to go back into my hole and work on some math hw (wonders of ohio y/n vibes...i have low key become her trying to roleplay as a stem girl). the plot is going to thicken and hopefully there will be more fluff soon. i honestly didn’t want to add the hug bc i do want this to be slow burn but it has come to my attention that this is now about 30k words long and i haven’t given y’all so much as an inkling that draco has feelings/anything will happen between them so i gotta give you something to hold you over fjdska;

#draco x reader #draco imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco x you #draco malfoy x you #draco x oc #draco malfoy x oc #draco malfoy #draco #dracotok #draco x y/n #draco malfoy x y/n

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choco-mark · 4 years

Text

Accidents

pairing: roommate!mark x roommate!oc

genre: smut | my horrible attempt at crack at the end, i apologize in advance

warnings: language, masturbation (fem. + m.), mentions of nudes, voyeurism, hyuck and y/n getting it on, oral (fem. + m. receiving), fingering, handjob, pretty explicit sex, sub!mark but more like nervous!mark, praise kink, moaning kink (kinda), i feel like i just wrote fucking porn

summary: you keep saying his name as he watches, and he keeps thinking it’s an accident. little does he know that the only accident he created was the one in your pants.

words: 4k

7 May

“Okay, but I don’t fucking understand why I have to do this,” Donghyuck threw up his hands dramatically, earning him odd stares from around the coffee shop. “This is a team effort. So Renjun, you’re coming with me.”

Renjun looked like he was about to slam his head against the wall, and he sighed. Jeno had his head resting against the table, looking at the younger member with a glint of annoyance in his eyes. “Hyuck. We literally asked you to order coffee. It’s not that hard.”

As the two of them started their regular bickering on a Sunday morning, you were sitting at the table behind the three, with Mark and Jaemin straight across from you. You seemed preoccupied with your phone, at least to Mark, who kept giving you glances as you smiled to yourself. “Y/N? Hello...”

You pressed a few more buttons with a shaky hand, loosing your mind a little as you looked up to give Mark a slight smile. Stuffing your phone back into your pocket, you leaned against the table again. As you started your normal conversation with the two of them, you didn’t realize Mark looking down at his phone to see who had texted him. I’m right in front of her, though. Oh, looks like a picture.

Yeah, Mark regretted ever opening that photo on his phone that morning, nearly flashing it to Jaemin in the process. You were sitting in an open legged fashion, red lingerie decorating your skin without much coverage, showing off places of your body that he had never seen exposed before. He could’ve thrown his phone out of his hand at that moment, maybe even out of the window or at Jaemin’s face, but you were still sitting there all innocent in your oversized sweatshirt, talking to the other boy with a small smile ghosting over your face.

He gulped visibly, shoving his phone back into his pocket and attempting to cover his hard on with the end of his own sweatshirt. Why the fuck did she send me that?..

16 May

It was an accident, that’s what you responded too when you had finally opened up your chat with Mark and had seen your own scantily dressed body with your entire heart beating out of your chest. He had promised that he deleted it as soon as he saw it, his face turned a bright color as you asked him quietly in the living room that afternoon. But, it wasn’t really an accident for you.

You wanted Mark to know how fucking wet you were constantly, every time you accidentally peaked into his room while he was changing, or even when he was sitting on the couch with his legs spread wide. He looked so inviting all the time, and you wanted that for yourself. Yet, you could never seem to actually get it. You were going to send your nudes to a group of your friends to ask them if they were good enough for an impression, however you had pressed on the victim’s contact, sending it to the poor boy. The worst part was that Mark seemed so unaffected by the entire issue, just shrugging it off when you apologized and assuring you that it was fine. It silently made you want to throw yourself out the window and fall to your misery, mainly since his entire expression just read a blatant ‘I don’t even care.’

But Mark did care. He did care that he couldn’t get the image of you dressing up like that in a room that was right beside his out of his head. He did care that you had placed your phone in a tilted fashion to get that angle of your body, and it drove him crazy. Drove him insane, to be honest, considering you, his very hot roommate, were always right there in his sight. And god he had nothing more in his mind other than for you to sit on his dick.

Though he already was so turned on by the fact that you—existed, the entire memory of you wearing that pretty lace always flowed back to his brain whenever he was doing anything. He might be in the middle of a lecture, taking notes normally and paying attention until he sees your name pop up on his phone. He might be laying on his bed contemplating whether or not he should finish a huge project that he had been assigned weeks ago, until he hears your giggle from outside his room. He might even be in the shower, quietly massaging liquid into his skin until his eyes fell upon your toiletries. Except every time he was in the shower, the blood would flow straight to his dick, and with a little less embarrassment as he fastened his own hand around the appendage. And it felt so good jerking off to the thought of you, and even though he had been a man of his word and had deleted the photo of you, that didn’t stop him from engraving it deep into his mind. Yet it was so wrong, so fucking wrong and he knew that when you would burst into the bathroom while he was having his own fun time and grab something you had forgotten.

Mark had returned from his last class for the day, completely exhausted from the entire day that he had just spent. It was supposed to be just a peek, a peek to see what the noises from inside of your bedroom were, yet it was much more than you just having stubbed your toe as he assumed. You were laying on your bed, legs spread wide with your hand between the sweatshirt that was just too long for him to catch a glimpse past, to see what action was actually happening.

He stifled a gasp in his throat when you arched your back suddenly, your head rolling back on your shoulders as you let out a loud whine. Just your sounds were making him harder by the second, and surely a few seconds later there was a nice familiar tent in his pants, one that he was now groaning over. God, how much he wanted to yank back the troublesome fabric to give him a better view of you, but he didn’t make a move. In fact, he froze at the sound of his name tumbling from your lips without even a gasp of hesitation, his brain going into a malfunctioning mode as you finally removed your hand. Mark could tell from the juices that were practically dripping from your fingers, that you had relieved yourself—and you collapsed down against your bed, your eyes fluttering shut from the feeling.

Oh how much he wanted to open that door just a little more, show you that he had seen all of your sinful actions with his blessed eyes, but he took a step back, groaning softly as he palmed himself over his jeans. He stumbled to his room, slamming the door shut without a second thought, the only thing on his mind being the sound of your voice moaning his name so lewdly. Fuck, he liked it way too much.

24 May

“Fuck, I don’t care!” Your voice was a frustrated one, coming from the living room so loudly as Mark woke up from his midday slumber, having been met with the sound of your voice immediately. “Just do your job and make me fucking cum already!” There was a bright giggle after your words, one that he recognized as his one and only best friend, Lee Donghyuck’s.

“Wow, you’re a demanding one,” he commented, his unusually low voice being cut off to be matched with the sounds of your moans filling the apartment. Mark widened as he realized what was happening, his face turning a nice shade of red as he couldn’t help but prop open the door, looking out from his room to get a good look at what was happening.

Donghyuck was perched between your wide spread legs, his colored hair blocking the most important part of your body in his view. You were still wearing a shirt, but your bra was on the side of the couch you were sitting on, disregarded as he slipped a hand up to your breasts, flicking the nipple over with his thumb as his fingers presumably slid into your hole. Mark couldn’t tell, not from the angle he was seeing you, which was just as frustrating to the fact that he would’ve done absolutely anything to be Donghyuck in that moment, but he also could tell.

Your mouth was slightly parted open, small puffs of breath coming out of you while your fingers pressed into the nape of the other boy’s neck. Mark hadn’t even noticed that Donghyuck had been lapping at your clit until he pulled away, moving his mouth to leave wet kisses all over your inner thighs. You were still writhing above him, his fingers pumping in and out of you with a delicious sound filling the air: a sound that was so fucking filthy, but was making you feel like heaven was on earth.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m so close,” you let out a whine as your hands were now gripping at your shirt, holding onto it so desperately as your eyes squeezed shut, your entire face contorting as the boy between your legs just chuckled, teasing you to follow your words. “Don’t stop—shit, shit, oh fuck—” You looked so ethereal to Mark, your sounds having already caused his dick to be set on fire as it was now being stroked in his hand ever so quietly, just wishing that it was you touching him in the same fashion. “Mark—fuck,” he could’ve sworn that he fucking ascended into the afterlife as his name fell from your lips again, the action only making Donghyuck break out into a soft giggle as he removed his fingers from your pussy, inching them up to pop them in your mouth.

“You’re a dirty girl. Moaning your roommate’s name when he’s right here? Did I not do good enough for your pretty cunt?” Though his words held some truth, Mark had already backed his way into his room again, his ears only registering the way you groaned in annoyance and swore that you wouldn’t suck him off tomorrow if he kept teasing you about Mark. “That’s alright, darling,” his voice was muffled now, the sounds of shuffling and hurried movements filling the room. He assumed that the two of you were dressing. “You know you’ll be stuffed with my cock anyway!”

That last comment had rang through Mark’s brain for the next few minutes, his eyes fluttering shut as the image of you on your knees took up his mind, your eyes that were widening at his length and the pretty lace lingerie that you had worn in that picture decorating your skin perfectly. Your cheeks completely hollowed out with his cock edging down your throat, the gags, the tears, the whines of pleasure. If he came right from that thought, he wouldn’t admit it to anyone.

30 May

Mark was going feral. Yes, feral because his roommate was so fucking hot and he couldn’t even control his carnal instincts right now. You had been driving him mad for the past—literally, it felt like forever in his mind, because every time he had gotten closer and closer to his fantasies, it seemed to be ripped away from him just as fast as he could achieve them. He felt like he was having some kind of weird hormone boost as he paced around his room, feeling the blooming sensation from low in his stomach rising and falling with every single thought going towards you.

Everything about you was inviting: your smile, your touches, your body, your voice. Mark couldn’t really say he was a sex expert, only having had done the deed only twice in his entire existence, but you were making him feel like he was getting more experiences that he even had in the first place. Yet, most of them were unannounced peeks of his naughty eyes.

He knew that every time you sank your fingers deep inside your pussy and allowed those soft walls to clench around them, that you would cry out his name with a type of bubbling noise in your throat. The same cry that made him want to leave everything he was doing at the moment just to fuck you until you were a blabbering mess. Yes, he had so many fantasies about you, so many more than he could ever admit to any of the other boys, and most definitely not you.

But this time it was really an accident.

Mark had a really nice shower, at least it was one that allowed him to take his time and...fulfill his desires. It was late at night, probably past midnight as he finally emerged from the bathroom, walking into the living room at a slow pace. However, when he reached the living room with a hand ruffling at his hair, he froze to the sight he was welcomed with; he would’ve died from embarrassment, he thought later, if that was him in that position. Yet, since it was you, it didn’t even hit him how flustered you were.

Your legs were spread out in the same fashion that they always were, except this time, everything was exposed. The crease of your folds caught his eyes, the arousal dripping from your core staining the neutral color of the couch so beautifully that he could’ve stared at it for hours just knowing it was you that caused it. The tips of your fingers were rubbing at your clit, almost violently from the way you were trying to chase after your high, but Mark could’ve sworn that was probably the most attractive thing he had seen in so long, and he had been secretly watching you for ages, it felt.

“Mark, oh my god,” you kept arching your back, trying to get the release that you knew you needed to get, but it never seemed to come. Your frustration rang through the apartment, bouncing off of the walls as your moved your hand away, both of them now gripping your thighs. “Fuck,” Mark thought you were about to cry from the way you finally opened your eyes, ready to get back to work until they fell on him at the side of the room, watching you intently.

As much as you wanted Mark to throw you against the wall and fuck you until you were begging for him to stop, your eyes still went wide at the sight of him. He looked so fresh in the moment, his hair still dripping slightly of the water he had showered in, his skin glowing and face flushed from how turned on he was getting. A smirk grew from your lips, stretching across your face as you tilted your head at him. He was much more shy than you expected him to be, but that only piqued your curiosity, wanting to push him even further. “Mark?”

He visibly flinched at the sound of his name. “Y-Yeah?”

“How long have you been there?” You noticed his eyes were flitting from between your legs to up to your face, his cheeks deepening in its reddening color as he blinked, not sure how to answer. “Mark—you know it’s rude to stare, hmm?” You couldn’t help but tease the boy a little, but he didn’t even make an effort to look away, even though he mumbled an apology.

“Are you just gonna stand there?” You dipped your fingers back between your folds, gathering the liquid around there with his following eyes, before you held them out for him to get a good look at. “You don’t want a taste?” You edged your fingers past your lips, tasting your own juices while Mark’s own tongue darted out from his mouth, licking his lips like he could taste you. “You’re practically drooling over me already, you don’t want to help? I’ve been on edge for so long...”

He walked over with a stumble, only focusing on how wet your fingers were from barely touching yourself in that moment, but you hoisted your feet up onto the couch, giving him an even better view. He didn’t initiate anything at first, looking into your eyes that were burning into his with a dark color of lust. “Come on, Mark. Touch me.”

He didn’t think you would be this bold, but he dropped to his knees anyway, liking your demanding words with so much fire in his blood. Out of all the ways he imagined pleasuring you, he didn’t think it would happen like this: in the middle of the living room where you had shared hundreds of innocent memories, or in the middle of the night, probably only a few hours until your morning lecture. But his hands barely brushed past your inner thighs, your breath hitching at the touch.

“Mark—” you elongated the sound of his name, whining out to let him know how much you were affected by him. Little did you know that he was being ten times more affected, his dick hardened to the point where he thought he was gonna explode. A digit prodded at your hole, and he looked up at you with caution in his eyes. You nodded reassuringly, guiding his finger into you with ease. A soft groan left your lips, your eyes shutting tightly at the feeling of his warm flesh. “Move, Mark.”

He added another finger without your help, the fulfilling feeling of your core reaching as he filled you up. He was pumping slowly, however, watching your each and every move. You could tell that he was inexperienced, but he seemed to know exactly how he was making you feel as he picked up his pace. Mark’s eyes were now fastened on your pussy, almost drooling at the sight of something so beautiful in his view. “Am I doing good?”

You forced your eyes open to look down at the boy, who was blinking up at you with those huge doe eyes that you swore looked too innocent to be true. “Yes, baby, you’re doing so good. Your fingers fuck me so—well.” He curled the digits, managing to keep your legs apart as you choked on the last word, the sensation basically taking your breath away. The pet name made him shiver, but he liked it, only repeating the motion again and again. “Oh fuck, fuck, ‘m gonna cum, please, fuck—”

Mark trailed his eyes back up to your face, and you honestly looked like you were having the time of your life when you came, soaking his fingers perfectly. You watched as he pulled them out, giving them a look of thought before looking up at you in some kind of anticipation. “Go ahead, baby,” you reached over to smooth a hand down his hair, pulling his wrist closer to his mouth. “I thought you wanted to taste me? Isn’t that what you wanted?” He nodded cautiously, letting you pop his fingers into his mouth and humming at the taste.

Your gaze fluttered down to between his own legs, your eyes falling on the bulge that looked almost painful through his gray sweatpants. Mark’s eyes were closed until he felt your hand lingering on the skin on his neck, and he blinked at the sight of you looking down at him. He was on his knees, peering up at you with a flushed face that made you want to giggle, and you gave him a small smile. “Can you sit down on the couch for me, baby? Hmm?”

The pet name slipped from your mouth so casually that he couldn’t help but gape at you, shuffling up to his feet with his stare fixed on you. You latched your hands onto his shirt, pushing him back against the soft cushions as he widened his eyes at your movements. “You’re such a good boy,” you cooed softly, allowing a hand to lift the hem of his shirt as you watched him flinch. He visibly swelled at your praise, responding with a sharp breath as you lowered the waistband of his pants. You grazed your palm against his boxers, rubbing a thumb against him. “You—like that, hmm?”

You straddled his thighs, leaning down to mouth as his toned stomach, smoothing the skin underneath your fingertips as you pulled down his boxers, letting yourself take a look at him. His dick was already erect and throbbing, basically waiting for you to do something—anything, to relieve the painful pressure. He wasn’t the biggest you had seen, but you could almost swear that it was the prettiest dick you had seen. With a look up at him, you pressed your thumb against the tip, teasing the slit with slow movements.

His body fell under a heat again, allowing him to let out a strangled breath as your hand grasped him from the base. Out of all the times he had caught you, and out of all the hundreds of times you had said his name, this time was best. “Mark,” you rubbed his thigh to gain his attention. “Look at me.” He complied gladly, his eyes fixed on yours as your mouth enclosed the tip of his cock. You sucked him along with your increasing pace of your hand, enjoying how he was falling apart under the tips of your fingers. He looked so ethereal in that moment, at least to you, his head thrown back against the couch. You swirled your tongue around him once more before letting go of him with a pop, a string of saliva falling hot from your mouth as you continued to jerk him off.

“Fuck...” You pulled yourself up with a hand on his arm, smashing your lips against his. It was the first kiss, taking him by surprise as he could barely move them against you. You let your tongue lick at his bottom lip, letting you inch in to suck on his tongue. Mark let out a whine, making you moan at his sounds. “Y/N, I’m c-close.”

You closed your eyes as you trailed your lips down his neck, nipping at the skin to savor to the taste. You could feel him tensing up from below, his body tightening as your let your hand glide over his cock without end. “Cum for me, baby. Make a mess.” His hands finally laid on your hips, pressing into your skin so hard that you were sure it was going to leave nice future bruises.

“Ah, Y/N—” You giggled as Mark struggled to get a hold of his words, mumbling nonsense as cum spurted from his cock, covering your hand with the milky liquid. Some of it spilled onto the dark color of his shirt, decorating him with a muffled moan from him. You made sure to milk him of every last drop, watching in awe to how much he came for you; it even surprised him, considering he had came twice in the shower beforehand, and was able to do so again just to the sight and feel of you.

There was a moment on silence as you rested your head against his chest, moving your hands over his, that were still grasping onto your body. You listened to the racing of his heart, hearing his breaths as he calmed himself down to a normal beat once again. “Wow,” was all he said, the exclamation coming out more as a lost breath rather than a word. “That was—wow.”

You let out another chuckle, peeking up at him. “Wanna join me for a shower?” He pursed his lips, feeling his heart speed up once again at the sight of your huge eyes. Did he just take a shower not even a few minutes earlier? Yes. Was he about to reject the chance to see you fully naked? No. “Mark? What’s wrong?”

“Just give me a moment, bro. You kinda just jerked me off right in front of my face.”

“You did not just call me bro after that!” You said with an incredulous voice, your eyes widening. “Do I look like a bro to you, Mark Lee?! Like you said, I just jerked you off!”

“I’m kidding! Calm down!”

#nct smut #nct 127 smut #nct mark smut #mark smut #lee mark smut

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chilling-seavey · 3 years

Note

oh ok what about a blurb for sc where Daniel and Marigold go on their first date?

↳ A/N Such an iconic moment and such a simple yet special night🥺

↳ Word Count: 3793

↳ Seasons Change Taglist: @stuffofseaveyy @randomlimelightxxx @jonahlovescoffee @hiya-its-amber @hopinglimelight @onlyangelavery @sbrewer21 @bessonsbxtch @viamiasoncrack @the-girl-who-cried-wolf @21burritoseavey @queenseavey23 @xkelsev - Please click the link in my bio to be added to the taglist!

May 16, 2008

Daniel was sure that if he bit his lip any harder, he would draw blood. The high school hallways were bustling with students who all spoke and shouted over each other as they gathered their things after final bell before the weekend. The slamming of lockers and bumping of bodies didn’t even seem to phase Daniel as he stared right down the hallway to where Marigold was standing.

She had her hair in braids that day and she smiled so widely when Daniel gave her a weak compliment in first period. Even just thinking about it now had his stomach in knots. He had never been smooth and never been flirty and even that simple statement in passing made him nervous.

They had talked almost every day since they officially met in first period English. There was nothing Daniel looked forward to more than her sweet ‘Good morning, Daniel’ every day as she walked into the classroom and took her seat behind him. Talking with his friends at lunch led him to accept that he had a wholehearted crush on her and if he didn’t ask her out he would be royally doomed.

Thing is, Daniel made that realization only two weeks after they met and planned to ask her out on Valentine’s day but totally chickened out. Three months later, he was driving himself insane for putting it off so long. His friends said if he didn’t ask her out that week then they would do it for him and wouldn’t that be embarrassing.

It was Friday. After the last bell. He couldn’t put it off any longer.

With one more nervous pet to his hair and a straightening of his back, he made his way over. Marigold glanced up at him as he approached.

“Hey.” she grinned, “You never come visit me. What do I owe the pleasure?”

Daniel licked his lips nervously as he watched her tuck her binders into her rose patterned backpack.

When he didn’t answer, she looked back at him with a chuckle, “Hello?”

Daniel rose his eyes to hers and took a deep breath, “Do you wanna go out with me this weekend?”

A sweet smile played at the corner of Marigold’s mouth as she slung her zipped up bag over her shoulder and closed her locker, “I’m at my grandparents’ this weekend but I’m free tonight.”

Daniel’s eyes went wide, his breath stuttering in his chest for a moment, “Tonight? Tonight…y-yeah, okay, yeah, I can do tonight.”

“Okay.” Marigold nodded in agreement. “I gotta go…mom’s waiting…but message me on AIM with a time and place.”

“Yeah.” Daniel breathed out, watching her rush off past him with a hurried ‘bye!’ and into the hallway crowded with teenagers. He couldn’t hold back the little air punch in celebration for that and he hurried off into the crowd in the opposite direction before anyone could see his bit of a happy dance.

The moment Daniel got home, he was rushing towards the basement, “I need the computer! I need the computer!”

He nearly threw himself into the computer room, only to find his older brother already there.

“I’m mid-game.” Christian said without looking up. “You can have it after dinner.”

“No. No, no, I need it now. Please.” Daniel stood over him impatiently.

“For what?”

“None of your business.”

“I need to know to decide if it’s worth stopping my game.”

“It is! I need to get on AIM, like, now.”

Christian paused his playing and looked up at his brother, “Is it a girl?”

With the distraction that obviously worked, Daniel threw himself on his brother’s lap and unplugged the game controller and closed the window himself. Christian shouted at him in protest and Daniel did his best to hold his older brother back as he opened up AIM and found Marigold’s contact – labeled as ‘online’ - and drafted a super rushed message.

C u at 6 for dinner?

“Mom! Daniel is hogging the computer!” Christian shouted towards the stairs. “And rubbing his nasty butt on me!”

Daniel ignored him, muttering under his breath as he saw the typing icon pop up, “Come on, come on.”

Yes. Where?

I’ll pick u up

A smiley thumbs up emoticon came through as is reply just as Christian shoved him off his lap and onto the carpeted floor. Daniel only picked himself up with ease and tossed the controller at his older brother’s head.

“Go play your stupid game while I have a date with a real girl.”

He rushed for the stairs before Christian could smack him for the diss.

By 5:30, Daniel had showered and dressed in pants and a button-up and fixed his hair three times in the mirror in his room. He grabbed his jacket and keys and hurried for the door. He made it right out to the driveway before realizing he was forgetting something.

Marigold thought farther ahead than Daniel did – that wasn’t odd – and her address was waiting for him in their AIM messages when he returned to the computer. He scribbled it down on a scrap piece of paper and nearly tripped up the stairs on his way back upstairs to type it into the old GPS in his hand-me-down truck. Daniel wasn’t necessarily a clumsy guy but the nervousness that was pumping through him certainly made that his momentary unfortunate reality. He even forgot to take the car out of park before trying to back out of the driveway. A marigold flower that he had picked from his mother’s garden rested in the cupholder.

The robotic voice of the GPS led him through the suburban streets of West Hartford to a red brick Tudor house with lush gardens and a perfectly trimmed lawn. Daniel lingered in the driveway for a moment, staring up at the front door that was framed by two small lights, waiting for him. He took a deep breath, stepped out of his old truck, and walked cautiously up the few stone steps to the hedge trimmed front porch. He barely knocked on the wood door before it was pulled open, revealing Marigold on the other side.

His heart did a little skip.

“Hi.” she said sweetly.

Daniel tried to word his response as he stared at her with her long blonde hair left in their natural waves and her face dusted in light makeup. He finally got out a soft, “Hi. You…look so good.”

Marigold tucked her hair behind her ear, “Thank you. You look good too.”

Daniel shifted and held out the marigold flower to her, “I…would have brought more but this was kinda last minute.”

“Well aren’t you as sweet as sugar?” Marigold giggled as she took it from him and twirled it between her fingers, “But my favourite flowers are hydrangeas.”

“Shit.” Daniel muttered.

“Just remember for next time.” she said as she closed the front door behind her.

Daniel nodded lightly, “Next time.”

They headed to his truck and he opened the door for her and held out a hand to help her up the slightly large step into the passenger seat. Marigold thanked him with a smile and took his hand although the way she easily hopped in meant she really didn’t need any sort of help.

“Where are we going?” Marigold asked once Daniel turned the key in the rumbling ignition.

“It’s a surprise.” Daniel said, switching the truck into reverse and tucked his hand behind her chair to back out of the driveway.

Marigold smiled over at him, “I like surprises.”

“Don’t get your hopes up.” Daniel added quickly.

“Don’t second guess yourself.” she retorted, although her tone was gentle.

Their eyes met briefly from across the front seat of the truck and Daniel looked back quickly to the road, stuttering to a stop at a crosswalk. Marigold reached out a hand to the dashboard.

“Sorry.” Daniel said, “Not quite used to driving this thing yet.”

“That’s okay.” Marigold said easily. “I can’t drive at all so you’re already impressing me.”

Daniel smiled to himself as he continued driving more towards the centre of town. Marigold hummed softly and tucked the flower behind her ear, pulling down the sun visor to look in the small mirror to make sure it was sitting nicely.

“It’s a gorgeous shade of yellow. Did you grow it yourself?” she asked, tapping the petals gently before shutting the visor again.

“No.” Daniel chuckled. “My mom did. I don’t…know a lot about gardening.”

“What a shame.” Marigold tisked. “I love it.”

Her eyes went wide as they turned into a parking lot and she gasped as she threw out her hand to touch his arm. Daniel was sure shivers tore down his spine at her simple touch and he glanced over at her in surprise.

“Are we going to Wendy’s?” she asked.

“Is that okay?” Daniel retorted quickly.

“Yes!” Marigold grinned, clapping her hands together a little in excitement. “Wendy’s is my favourite!”

Daniel let the truck drift to a stop in the drive-thru lineup and he looked over at her, “Really? It’s mine too.”

“Wow. We sit next to each other for three entire months and yet we are still learning about each other.”

“I mean we talk more about Shakespeare than fast food and flowers in class but…yeah.” Daniel chuckled.

Marigold smiled at him, the sweetest giggle falling from her lips, and the dim lights from the restaurant sign and almost setting sun outside the windows cast a pretty yellow glow across her face. Daniel was sure he had never seen anything or anyone as beautiful.

She told him her order and he paid at the window and passed her the takeout bag to hold as he pulled out of the drive-thru. Marigold peeked open the bag and snuck a fry for herself before taking a second and holding it out in front of Daniel’s nose. He smiled shyly and leaned in to let her feed it to him as he drove. She folded up the top of the takeout bag and let her gaze drift out the window as they headed towards the outskirts of town.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked.

“You’ll see.” Daniel answered casually.

Marigold glanced over at him as he was focused on the road and she let a small smile come to her lips. He had this seriousness about him when he drove, or maybe that was just his first date jitters taking over, as his bottom lip stayed wedged between his teeth and his hands stayed wrapped around the steering wheel. He took them out of the suburbs and into the outskirts of town where the buildings moulded into farmland and the street lamps turned into rickety telephone wires. Daniel - who only had his license for a few months - drove extra cautiously as pavement turned into dirt roads. The sun was still just over the horizon but was dropping quickly and the hues of sunset were fluttering through the truck and across their faces.

Daniel finally pulled into an alcove at the side of the road, down a slightly narrow dirt path that somewhat resembled someone’s driveway. Marigold simply held their takeout bag on her lap and trusted his process. He did a slightly rusty three-point-turn to reverse at the end of the path and then parked.

“Where are we?” Marigold asked with a slightly nervous giggle.

“Come.” Daniel opened the door and hopped out onto the dirt below. Marigold followed him around the truck with the takeout bag and he opened the back to reveal the bed of the truck made up with blankets and pillows.

Marigold bit back her smile and turned over her shoulder to the vast expanse of farmland beyond and a perfect view of the sunset and the outskirts of the city in the distance.

“Is it stupid? You can tell me.” Daniel said quickly.

“No.” she answered right away. “I really love this.”

“Good because my other option was bowling and I really suck at bowling.” Daniel sighed.

Marigold laughed sweetly and climbed up into the back of the truck. He followed quickly and they got the pillows arranged to rest back on with the blankets under them to prevent the hard plastic of the truck bed from becoming too uncomfortable. They split their food and ate on their laps while watching the sunset. Daniel was almost too nervous to eat - he felt like he might be sick any moment - but he ate anyway and focused on the soft humming coming from the pretty blonde girl beside him.

“How’d you find this spot?” Marigold finally asked.

“By chance, honestly.” Daniel shrugged. “I was practicing my driving before I got my full license and I was up around here and pulled over to answer a call from my mom and...I dunno...it looked kinda nice.”

Marigold nodded in agreement through a bite of her burger before answering, “It is kinda nice.”

“You’re the first person I’ve taken here.”

“Oh really?” Marigold smiled over at him, “I’m glad. Maybe this can be our spot.”

Daniel bit his lip to prevent himself from smiling as wide as he possibly could back at her and he nodded, “Okay.”

They finished their meals in near silence and by the time the sun finally dipped below the horizon and sent the land into near darkness, they rested back against the pillows comfortably. Daniel pulled up one of the blankets over their laps to keep warm as night fell and the temperature started to drop. Marigold was entranced by the views, her gaze unwavering as she stared up at the stars starting to appear across the inky sky.

“You can never see the stars from town.” she whispered.

Daniel looked from her up to the sky himself and smiled lightly at the blinking stars staring back at them.

“They’re so pretty.” Marigold said.

He looked back over at her, certainly finding her much prettier than the stars. He couldn’t believe she was really truly there with him - after months of psyching himself out and putting it off. She was the prettiest girl in the whole school, Daniel was sure of it, not to mention the sweetest and thinking about the fact that she so easily agreed to go out with him made his heart jump in his chest.

As if reading his thoughts, she asked, “Why’d you want to ask me out?”

Daniel was startled by her question and when he didn’t answer right away she looked back at him expectantly.

“I...You...were the prettiest girl I’d ever seen when you walked into the classroom at the start of term and...so nice to me and so...sweet and...I’ve had a serious crush on you for weeks now but I was too scared to ever do anything about it.”

Marigold lolled her head back against the rear window of the truck and listened so intently to him that you’d think he was preaching the gospel.

“So why now?” she challenged.

“Truth?” Daniel asked.

She nodded.

“My friends said if I didn’t ask you out by the end of the week, they’d do it for me and I don’t think I could ever recover from that embarrassment if they did.”

“Ah, so you waited for the eleventh hour?” Marigold giggled.

“Yeah.” Daniel laughed lightly, looking back down to his lap where he was picking nervously at the loose threads on the blanket draped over them.

Marigold spoke quietly to him, her eyes focused on his face even when he wasn’t looking back at her, “Well you know I’m not shy by any means but...I kinda always got a little nervous around you.”

Daniel finally looked back at her, “What? Really?”

She bit her smiling lip and nodded, “I kinda had a serious crush on you too. I’d get all nervous before first period because I knew I’d be seeing you.”

“Shut up. You did not.” Daniel blushed, looking away from her shyly.

“I did. I did, I swear.” Marigold giggled. “You were just so cute and quiet and made me feel like a little kid all shy.”

“You shoulda told me.” Daniel mumbled, his cheeks flushed pink.

Marigold nudged him, “You shoulda told me.”

They looked back out to the stars, smiling to themselves quietly at the confessions of the other. By the light of the stars, Marigold slid her hand out and brushed over his wrist ever so gently. His eyebrows furrowed a moment in confusion and turned his left hand out palm up as if expecting her to pass him something but all she did was slide her fingers into his and held his hand. Daniel kept his eyes on the sky but gladly kept a snug grip on her hand, ignoring the sickening sweet butterflies that flew around in his stomach.

“My mom says I can get too friendly sometimes so if I cross a line just tell me.” Marigold said.

“You’re fine.” Daniel assured her with a whisper.

She shuffled closer and leaned her head on his shoulder and he swore the feeling of her so close had the most blissful warmth radiating throughout his whole body. He gently rubbed his thumb over hers and she gave his hand a squeeze. Is this what heaven felt like? Daniel never wanted to leave. Just to sit forever just them and the stars.

They sat just like that for a while, sharing whispered conversations about home and their families and their favourite movies. Even when their palms got a little clammy as the minutes moulded into hours, they didn’t move from their spot.

Their spot.

Curfew approached faster than they would have liked to admit and Daniel turned to look at her in their close proximity. Their noses touched as she was still leaned up into his side but she just brushed hers over his and they shared little shy giggles. He could have kissed her right then and there. The stars sparkled in her light blue eyes and he could feel the warmth of her body against his and she was staring at him like she wanted him to.

Daniel shifted slowly and dusted a kiss over her cheek instead before slipping his hand out of hers, “We should head back.”

His shyness made her smile and she let her gaze linger on him a moment longer as he gathered their empty takeout bag and shifted the blanket off of their laps. Daniel never often noticed the way she stared at him when he wasn’t paying attention, always with that same soft smile and adoring light eyes, ever since that very night of their very first date.

Daniel mentally beat himself up the entire drive back into town for not kissing her. The opportunity was right there and he chickened out. As they pulled into Marigold’s driveway, he told himself he was going to kiss her and end the date as it should end. He parked and took a deep breath before looking over at her.

“Thank you for tonight.” Marigold smiled. “I had fun.”

“You’re welcome.” Daniel replied quickly.

“Dinner was great...the stars...everything...it was incredible.”

Daniel only nodded, trying to find that perfect beat of silence so he could go for it but Marigold wasn’t really one to ever stop talking.

“I haven’t really been on dates before...but this one was certainly my favourite. Even the flower. Especially the flower.” she touched the yellow marigold that was still tucked behind her ear before grabbing her small purse and opened the door.

“I’ll walk you up.” Daniel said hurriedly and jumped out of the truck with her.

He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his pants as they headed up the front steps and she smiled widely at him.

“What a gentleman.” she complimented, a hint of teasing in her tone just to make him blush.

She reached for the door handle but turned back to him almost expectantly. Daniel almost went for it but she spoke again.

“So...are we dating then?”

Her question took Daniel by surprise but she smiled sweetly at him as she waited for his answer.

He licked his lips nervously but nodded, “Yeah. I’d...I’d like that.”

“Daniel, will you be my boyfriend?”

“I’m supposed to ask you!”

“You asked me on the date so it’s only fair I can ask you to date me.”

“That’s...that’s not...Marigold, will you be my girlfriend?”

“Only if you agree to be my boyfriend.”

“You’re so stubborn, oh my gosh.” Daniel laughed nervously.

“Is that a yes?”

“Yeah, obviously.”

“Yeah, obviously.” Marigold giggled, using his words as her reply too, their momentary banter falling into silence.

This was the moment.

Daniel stepped closer to her and leaned down slightly, sliding his hand to the side of her neck and gently tilted her head up towards him. They were only a mere inch apart before the front door was tugged open and Marigold, who still had her hand on the handle, went stumbling backwards with a gasp.

“Mari!”

Marigold turned to her younger sister with a huff, “What, Iris? What is it?”

The blonde girl in the doorway - who looked a heck of a lot like Marigold apart from her slightly darker blonde hair and much greener eyes - continued loudly, “Do you know where my purple skirt is? I need it for this weekend!”

“You couldn’t have waited two more minutes for me to come inside?” Marigold scolded lightly.

Daniel shifted shyly on his feet and kept his hands in his pockets as she reprimanded her little sister.

“Hey,” the younger teenager looked past her to Daniel, “Aren’t you Anna Seavey’s brother?”

Daniel nodded stiffly, “Yeah.”

“Jesus! She’s like the coolest freshman in the entire school. Mari, are you dating Anna’s brother?!”

“Iris! You’re being rude. And don’t say Jesus.”

“Okay, but have you seen my skirt? Can you help me find it?”

Daniel chuckled at Marigold’s obviously unimpressed expression but she sighed in defeat, always too nice for her own good.

“Fine. I’m coming.” Marigold looked back to Daniel, “Sorry.”

He waved his hand between them casually, “Nah, it’s fine.”

“I’ll see you on Monday.” she smiled. “Thanks again for tonight.”

Daniel nodded and watched her be pulled inside by her fourteen-year-old sister. He lingered on her front porch for a moment before exhaling deeply and running his hands through his hair. Merely a few hours before he was pathetically pining over this girl from his english class and suddenly, by nightfall, he was her boyfriend.

Daniel drove home in his hand-me-down pickup truck that lingered with the scent of her floral drugstore perfume. No junior would ever say this, but he couldn’t wait until Monday.

#my taglist keeps not working so im trying it at the top of my posts to see if that changes anything lol #🌼#daniel seavey #why dont we #daniel seavey imagines #why dont we imagines #daniel seavey oneshots #why dont we oneshots

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blossom-hwa · 3 years

Text

Light the Pyres |Strike| - SUNGYOON

Based off the Burn It mv? Yeah I know it was like five months ago but whatever. Writing this honestly hurt me so I’m sorry if you’re reading it <3

(But no, really. This is a heavier and bloodier story. If this isn’t for you, please don’t read!)

Pairing: Sungyoon x gender neutral!reader

Genre: angst, bits of fluff, apocalypse!au

Triggers: cursing, death, side character commits suicide (no mention of suicidal thoughts though), semi-graphic depictions of blood

Word Count: 3.8k

As the world burns its last goodbyes, you find a jewel amidst the ashes.

Strike >> Next: Light

Golden Child Masterlist

“It’s insane, isn’t it?” You pace around your dorm. “I can’t believe it went so wrong. Not to say that I ever agreed with the testing in the first place, but –”

“I know.” Your mother sighs into the phone. “Anyone would’ve thought such a project would be handled carefully, no? It’s a miracle anyone survived at all.”

You sit on the edge of your bed. “I’m just glad you’re safe,” you say. “When I heard the shaking could be felt even from home…”

She laughs, soft and gentle in a way that sends a pleasant warmth tickling down your spine. God, you love hearing your mother’s laugh. “I’m fine, Y/N.” You can almost hear the smile in her voice. “I appreciate you checking in on me, but I’m perfectly fine. We had a few tremors, that’s all. No one is hurt.”

“Yeah, I know, I know.” You smile. “I have to go to class now, but stay safe, okay? I’ll see you this winter break, I promise.”

“I’m counting the days, darling. I love you and miss you.”

“Same here, Mom.”

You press your head against the car window as Daeyeol speeds down the empty highway. It’s been months since that call, months since the test bomb failed, mutating the few who survived into flesh-eating shades of their human selves.

Of course, no one knew it then. The survivors were rushed to a nearby hospital for treatment and when they first woke up, there were no signs of abnormality besides some slightly shrunken pupils.

Then veins blackened, skin paled, and they attacked.

One infected hospital turned into an entire city. The few who managed to escape tried to spread the news, but no one believed them. Only a couple of the smallest news outlets, looking for a good scoop, related the stories of the shaking survivors of what they called a zombie apocalypse. Unbelievable, right?

Not so much when one zombie made its way into an otherwise healthy city and began biting people in full daylight.

Only a few states away, your mother was living her life when the government imposed a strict lockdown. No one was to leave their home. Certain stores would be open on certain days, and blocks would be allowed to shop at certain times. Otherwise, stay at home and do not go outside.

She called you that day and every day after until communications shut off. On the other side of the country, you panicked when your calls stopped going through, when your texts only rebounded with an “unable to send – try again” message that made you want to smash your phone against the ground.

Until several days later, in the middle of a class no one was paying attention to, she picked up.

Your professor doesn’t even blink an eye as you run out of the room, already halfway to tears. “Oh my God, Mom –”

“Darling, we don’t have time.” You can hear the cracks in her voice. “So many cities nearby have been overrun already, and we can’t use internet or even power anymore because we need to conserve. I don’t know how your call managed to go through.”

“I thought you were dead.” You slide to the floor, back pressed against the wall as you try hard not to cry. “Mom, I –”

“No, I’m alive.” She laughs, but there��s a frightened edge to it that you’ve never heard before. It feels like being doused with cold water, horrible – your mother, the woman who raised you so fearlessly in the wake of her husband’s death, is scared.

You can barely comprehend it.

“I’m alive, Y/N.” A tiny sniffle on the other end. “I just want you to know that I love you very much. I always will.”

“I love you too, Mom.” A tear trickles down your face. “I love you. I’m going to come for you, okay? I’ll come. Don’t go anywhere. I’ll come for you.”

No reply. You look down at your phone, only to realize the call’s disconnected with no way for you to know how much your mother heard of your last words.

You haven’t been able to call her since, not with her power completely cut off and your university going on lockdown just a couple of weeks later. But it doesn’t matter. When rumors that a wave of flesh-eating non-humans was going to hit your city soon, you rented a car with Daeyeol and set off for home, driving in a direction from where no zombies had come.

You’re pretty sure the rental owner knew you had no intention of returning the car, judging from the thin press of his lips as you handed over your card. He softened, though, when you slid into the driver’s seat. “Good luck,” he’d said.

That bit of luck seems to have paid off. After weeks of alternately walking and driving, weeks of crippling paranoia and sudden attacks, neither you nor Daeyeol has been bitten. You might be dehydrated, half-starved, and ready to collapse at any given moment, but at least you have no shrunken pupils, no blackened veins, and no hunger for flesh.

Daeyeol’s voice cuts through the car tires jostling on the road. “All right?”

“Mm.” You nod slightly, head still pressed against the window. A tiny smirk widens your cracked lips. “Still alive.”

It’s morbid. So many people you know or knew have died, probably more than you realize, so it maybe isn’t the best move to joke about being alive. But it makes Daeyeol smile, even if it’s more of a smirk than a real smile, and after everything that’s happened, you both need a reason to laugh every so often.

“Same here,” he says, words cracking slightly with disuse. His voice used to be smooth, sweet with his singer’s tones, but it’s all faded over days and weeks of silence.

Don’t exactly want to attract a horde of zombies for the sake of a bit of song.

His voice breaks you out of depressing thoughts again. “Get some sleep,” he says, glancing over. “We’ll stop at sundown.”

“Cool.” You stretch slightly, yawning. “I guess I’ll drive through the night?”

“If we don’t break down by then.” As if on cue, the motor sputters, nearly launching you forward, but thankfully, the car doesn’t stop just yet. Daeyeol sighs. “Halfway there,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you.

“Halfway there,” you echo as another faded highway sign flashes past. After nearly two months of travel, you’re over halfway home.

You let that thought comfort you into an uneasy sleep.

. . . . .

“Shit.”

You wake up to Daeyeol’s curse and the sputtering sound of the engine. He’s gone off the highway since you fell asleep, now trying to start the choking car on a street in what looks like it used to be a city. As you blink the sleep out of your eyes, he presses down on the accelerator, hard. The car jerks forward for a second, then stops.

Daeyeol groans. “We didn’t even make it to sundown.”

Sure enough, the sun still hasn’t fallen. From the beat up watch on your wrist, you estimate an hour or so before dark. Probably enough time to try and take a crack at fixing the engine or whatever’s gone wrong with the car.

“I’ll take a look.” You rub your eyes. “See if it’s something I can fix. Stay close, I might need your help.”

After years of growing up beside your mechanic mother, mechanical engineering was a no-brainer when you entered university. Since then, your technical skills have grown a little rusty when it comes to repairing cars (hey, not a lot of people drove around your college town), but in the months after the explosion, you’ve had to relearn those skills fast.

You don’t dare roll up your sleeves, not even in the heat of the afternoon sun and the warmth radiating off the engine. If a zombie comes out of nowhere, your layers are the only chance of surviving a bite.

Wincing at the memory of your first close call, you start poking around the engine. It isn’t smoking, which is good, but something rattles when you tap at it with a wrench.

Great.

Sweat pours down your face as you fiddle around with the engine. A few bolts are loose – how you didn’t notice when you first took the car, you don’t know – but you tighten them carefully as the sun sinks lower in the sky. “Hopefully that’s it,” you mutter before pulling the hood down. Even in such an empty place, the small thunk makes you flinch, looking around for zombies to come pouring out of nowhere.

Nothing happens. You sigh in relief, plucking the keys from Daeyeol’s hand. “Let’s see if it works.”

It does. After an initial sputtering, the car moves forward. Reflexes keep your mouth shut before you can whoop, but you settle for a satisfied sigh as you beckon Daeyeol into the car, his eyes smiling in a way that’s become rare in the past month.

Then –

A shout.

A bang.

You freeze, one hand on the wheel.

Gunshots.

Daeyeol’s already opening his door, eyes wide with worry as someone screams and the familiar sound of dead groaning fills the air. “Come on,” he says, his tone booking no room for argument. “Let’s go.”

He’s too kind. Too selfless. As you run behind him, pulling out the gun holstered at your own waist, you try to push down the urge to drag him back to the car and just drive away from the growing screams and groans.

But Daeyeol is your best friend, one of your two last anchors to his barren earth. You may not have the same selfless streak that he does, but you’ll follow him into danger and watch his back if it’s the last thing you do.

Someone like Daeyeol deserves that much and more.

Following the noise, you sprint between two buildings, tall and dirty and abandoned. Broken glass crunches under your feet as you turn a corner –

And come face to face with black veins and white faces, pupils shrunken in death.

Whirling away from bloody, grasping hands, you club the first zombie over the head with the butt of your gun. It falls. Bang. Dead. You twist around the mass of stilted limbs and race after Daeyeol, yelling for him to slow down as you run into the fray.

Bang. Bang bang bang. Gunshots lead you into a space between four buildings where the ground opens up to reveal what probably was a subway. A horde of zombies claws at a tall bus stranded in the square, a lone man standing on top.

Him. Your eyes zero in on the tall figure, gun in hand that he aims at the zombies. There are too many, though, even if there don’t seem to be more coming.

Daeyeol scrambles on top of an abandoned car. You quickly follow. The man hasn’t caught sight of you just yet, still focused on avoiding zombies that get too close. There’s only a matter of time before they sense your presence and start chasing you instead.

Think. Think!

“You pick them off,” you gasp. “Pick them off from here.”

He nods. “Watch the back. Help me if I run out.”

You turn around. Back to back, you raise your guns, aim, and begin to fire.

Your gunshots and the allure of more meat turn deadened eyes and bloody mouths your way. Trampling over their shot companions, they lurch over to your car, stumbler closer even as you pick them away.

One. Two. Three. Each of your last thirteen bullets has to make a difference. Gritting your teeth against the smell of rotting flesh that still makes you gag even after so many weeks on the road, you shoot down another zombie that’s gotten too close and lock eyes with the man still standing on the bus roof.

The horde has thinned. The groaning has decreased. Zombies still claw at the roof, but if he jumps far enough and runs fast enough, he’ll make it.

“JUMP!” you scream, another bullet embedding itself into a head caked in dried blood. Three bullets left. “NOW!”

An uncertain glance. Daeyeol shoots away another clawing hand and glares at his still figure. “JUMP!”

He jumps.

Lands.

Pitches onto the ground.

Not far enough.

Zombies lurch forward, rotting arms reaching for the man who’s still scrambling to stand. You want to scream. He isn’t going to make it, all of this was for nothing, you’ve wasted ten bullets – eleven, now, as another tears into a zombie head – on a rescue mission that’s going to fail –

Daeyeol jumps down from the car and fires a last shot that goes haywire before grabbing the man and literally dragging him forward, narrowly missing a lurching zombie.

“DAEYEOL!” You jump from the car, kicking away a clawing hand. “YOU FUCKING IDIOT –”

He begins to turn, helping the man stumble forward. Something’s happened to his leg. Your eyebrows furrow – God, you’re going to have words with Daeyeol about putting himself in unnecessary danger when you all are out of this – as you grab at one of the stranger’s arms, dragging him across the bloody square.

All facing the same direction, none of you notice several leftover zombies creeping up from behind.

Daeyeol yells. His hand releases the stranger’s wrist and you watch in disbelief as skeletal, bloody hands drag him backward.

You scream. Fingers fumble for your gun that still has two rounds left, two rounds, more than enough –

But Daeyeol is already staring in disbelief at the blood seeping through a prominent bite mark on the top of his arm that’s beginning to turn black.

No.

No!

Letting go of the stranger with a shriek, you raise both hands and shoot away the zombie still hanging onto Daeyeol’s shoulder. But you have only one bullet left in your gun and there are several zombies lurching towards you and it doesn’t even matter because Daeyeol’s been bitten, you’ve made it halfway home already and he’s been bitten –

Disbelieving eyes meet yours. Something crumbles in his expression and in his gaze you see everything – pain, horror, care, love, determination, resolve.

“Go,” he chokes, stepping backward directly into the path of the remaining undead. “Go!”

Tears blur your vision. “Daeyeol –”

“TAKE HIM AND GO!”

Dimly, you register a hand closing around your trembling wrist, dragging you back, away from your best friend of over twenty years, away from one of your last anchors to life. Gunshots tear through the air and you blink in time to see two of the zombies fall, Daeyeol gritting his teeth as he pulls the trigger on his gun again. And again.

He locks eyes with you once more. His gaze shines with twenty years of friendship and memories as he steps backward over and over, luring the last zombies away.

His instructions pound through your head. Go. Go. Take him and go.

Take him and go!

Your mind screams to stay but your body turns traitor, latching onto the stranger’s arm and stumbling between buildings, back in the direction of the car. He doesn’t move fast but you drag him along, shoes crunching glass and bricks and dried blood.

Something turns your head back in time for the last shot. It doesn’t split a zombie’s skull.

Instead, you watch the muzzle of Daeyeol’s gun fall away from his temple as he collapses to the ground.

Dead.

Dead. Dead. Your best friend is dead. Dead. Dead. Daeyeol is dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead dead dead dead your best friend is dead dead dead Daeyeol’s dead dead dead he’s dead dead dead dead dead he’s DEAD HE’S DEAD –

With a burst of strength you didn’t know you had, you haul the stranger forward to the car still parked on the street. Tossing open the passenger door, you shove him in, then throw yourself into the driver’s seat.

You jam the key into the ignition, turn it and hear the engine sputter to life. Instinct alone moves your limbs, foot pressing down on the gas, hands clenching the wheel so hard your knuckles burn.

Tears stream down your face as you drive into the setting sun.

. . . . .

The car dies ten miles down the road. Far enough to escape straggling zombies.

Not far enough to escape bloody memories.

You curse loudly, slamming a hand on the steering wheel as if it’ll do anything (it won’t. You don’t need two degrees in mechanical engineering to have that measure of common fucking sense). Next to you, the boy remains quiet, barely looking over as you hit the wheel again. And again.

It doesn’t bring Daeyeol back.

Still, you give the steering wheel one more whack before throwing open the car door to kick the vehicle in the side once. Twice.

“Don’t injure yourself.”

Ah. So he speaks. Mystery boy’s voice is a little higher than you expected. If you’d met him before the apocalypse, you might even say it was smooth. Nice. Like a singer’s.

Like Daeyeol’s.

You kick the car a third time, insides writhing.

And you hate it.

It’s irrational, of course, fully irrational. He hasn’t done anything to earn your anger. It’s probably not his fault he got cornered by a horde of zombies. It definitely isn’t his fault Daeyeol has – had – Jesus Christ, you can’t think of him in the past tense, your knees are already going wobbly and the tears are coming again – a stupid selfless streak that ultimately got him killed –

But how dare he speak. How dare he use his voice to warn you not to injure yourself when Daeyeol is the one who should be sitting there saying that. Daeyeol should be the one telling you to take care of yourself when the anger, the stress, the sheer enormity of the world and your own insignificance in the grand scheme of the universe start getting to your head.

If this boy hadn’t been in trouble, Daeyeol would still be here. He’d be here, alive, and though you’d still be stuck ten miles down the fucking road, at least he wouldn’t be dead. Dead because he sacrificed himself for a guy caught in the middle of a zombie horde on top of a fucking bus whom neither of you even knows.

With the last of your strength, you slam the car door shut before you say something you’ll regret. Sinking down on the dirty, empty highway, you close your eyes and take a shuddering breath.

You don’t cry. You just sit there, eyes staring into the darkness of your closed lids. There’s no telling how much time passes until a car door opens and shuts.

There’s a soft grunt. A gasp of pain. Then a presence settles itself on your side of the car, hovering over your still body.

Your fists clench. Unclench. It’s not his fault. Not his fault. Not his fault, not his fault, not his fault –

You open your eyes to stare flatly at the boy standing over you. “Yes?”

He flinches. It must have come out more accusatory than you wanted. You don’t do anything, though, only stare as he keeps standing, leg shifting awkwardly.

Not shifting. You lower your gaze, narrowing your eyes at his trembling limbs. Your mind flashes back to him jumping off the bus, the noise with which he landed, the way he was limping slightly as first Daeyeol, then you dragged him away.

He’s injured. No bones broken since he can still support his weight, but maybe a fracture. Something you don’t have the capacity to heal with anything but time.

Time that you don’t have.

“I…” He swallows. “I wanted to thank you. For helping – saving me.”

For some reason, that rubs you the wrong way.

“Don’t thank me.” Your voice slices the air, bitterly caustic. “Thank my friend. He’s the one who wanted to help.” You look away. “You know, the one who’s dead.”

He flinches again, hard enough to stumble backward. Only the car keeps him from falling over. A pang of guilt hits at your sharp words, but anger and grief for Daeyeol keep it at bay. “You can stay the night,” you say, still averting your gaze. “Take the backseat. Not like I’ll be driving any fucking further.” You stand and kick the car again, this time leaving a dent in the rusty metal. “Gonna have to go back to walking…”

Walking.

Your mouth goes dry.

This is the first time you’ll be walking alone. No Daeyeol to watch your back, no knowledge that someone who’s known you for over twenty years will be at your side. That’s gone, all of it. Gone with his death.

The thought ices your veins. You just want to curl into a ball and cry. But that’s not an option, not with this mystery boy enclosed in the same space as you, so you just throw open the door and slide back inside. He follows a little more cautiously, gingerly entering the car and closing his door softly before sitting in the back.

You sigh. “Close it fully.”

He blinks up at you in the grimy rearview mirror.

“Close the door fully,” you snap. “If a zombie manages to get in because you didn’t close it properly, we’re both fucked.”

It stings a little to be so rude, especially when he only opens the door again like you said and shuts it with more force. But nothing changes the fact that Daeyeol died for him, a person he didn’t even know, and that this boy is the reason why Daeyeol isn’t sitting next to you in the passenger seat, his silent, familiar presence comforting you into sleep.

A tear blinks out of your closed eyes. Why? you want to scream. Why did he do it? Why did he always want to help everybody, even if he knew it might come at the cost of his own life?

You know the answer. Humanity. Daeyeol told you every time you asked, every time you had another brush with death to save anyone you could. He had to keep faith, had to believe that there was something, anything he could do to alleviate some of the pain brought on by this tragedy.

It’s why you always admired him, were so loyal to him from the day you two first became friends in elementary school. Daeyeol always believed in strength that comes from kindness, believed in helping those who couldn’t always help themselves. It’s why you always followed him into the fight, regardless of how much you wanted to shove him back in the car and just drive away.

Bitterness lodges in a lump in your throat.

So much for humanity when all that kindness just got him killed.

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 prayer for Daeyeol’s soul :/)

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alolowrites · 4 years

Text

A Vision Come to Life

Summary: Every artist wants to bring their own paintings to life. Sero is no different after he becomes infatuated with you—a beautiful stranger who exists in his dreams. One night he sees your face and decides to paint you with all his heart.

Song: “Pintame” by Elvis Crespo

Author’s Note: I always had this story idea in my head after listening to this song. It was different, and I just had to write it out. Not sure why it took me forever to get it done. Probably because I don’t know much about painting and really did not want to make a fool out of myself (I’m sorry if something is wrong, I tried my best with the research 😭😭😭).

On another note, this is my first story for Sero so yay! Please enjoy!

Word Count: 1.6K+

Sero felt alive again.

He rushed into his private art studio, nearly tripping over the blemished tarp covering the floor. Both sleeves hastily rolled up past his elbows. Sero swiveled nonstop and panicked when he couldn’t find the cart filled with the art supplies. Ah, it was at the far corner; he wheeled it closer to the center. Precious time was fleeting, and so was the inspiration that came to his head just now.

After being stuck in a rut for almost a month, Sero was itching to paint something. Or more accurately, he was dying to paint a certain someone. And that person was you—a stranger he’d never met in his life. Yet, you managed to invade his dreams every night for the last two weeks. It was like a game; you waltzed in, giggling up a storm, and Sero ran after you. He saw your back, but never your face; he would wake up just when you’d turn around to show yourself. That was how all his dreams ended.

Until this morning.

Sero plopped down on the stool that wobbled under his weight. The blank canvas stared back at him. Fingers scrambled to grab a charcoal pencil lost in a messy pile of his art supplies. A good sketch of your head and shoulders was key to bringing you to life. His eyes followed the delicate strokes that fleshed out your beautiful features. He didn’t want to miss out on a single detail on this painting.

Especially that lovely face of yours, the one that took his breath away. Sero gave special attention to those unique details. A quick solution was added to seal the sketch and left to dry. Sero distracted himself by prepping his materials. All his fingers twitched, and he bit the inside of his cheek so hard it could bleed. The urge to paint you drove him insane. He couldn’t help it—the artistic flame was burning again, and much stronger than before.

His eyes wandered to the canvas. One touch and the corners of his lips curved; it was dried. The imaginary chains broke loose, allowing Sero to dive straight into his work. A ray of sunlight peeked through the windows. Sero grinned, brushing the paint across your cheeks. Each movement felt natural, and he let you—his muse—be his guide.

Sero wanted to capture everything about you.

He painted your nose so he could breathe the same air as you. He painted your lips, those soft and luscious lips that begged for a kiss. He painted your eyes that left him mesmerized no matter where he stood. He painted you with every bit of passion and desire raging in his heart and soul.

You only existed in his dreams, but Sero knew that’s not where you belonged. His mind was too cramped for your magnificent presence. You deserved better than that. Which was why Sero chose to paint you on the largest canvas he owned like the absolute queen you were. Anything less would fail to showcase your exquisite beauty in Sero’s eyes.

Another stroke here. A dash of color there. A touch of shade everywhere. Not once did the paintbrush stop its graceful dance across the canvas. It was as though Sero was under a spell where his only focus was on you. Sero succumbed to the madness clouding his sense of reality. There was no use fighting against it. He trusted you, the lovely muse living in his mind, to control him until he finished the masterpiece.

Sero switched to a thinner brush so he could add the finer details with great precision. He paid special attention to your eyes and lips. The tip of the brush dabbed around your irises, emphasizing the playful glint that drove Sero crazy. As for your lips, they carried a mischievous smile as though you knew something he did not.

An exhausted sigh broke the silence. Sero wiped the sweat beads trickling down his forehead. He finished and took a couple of steps back to admire his artwork. A tired, but satisfied smile, stretched across his face. He lowered his color palette and paintbrush, ignoring the cramped muscles around his fingers.

You were worth the pain.

As Sero cleaned up his materials, he couldn’t help but feel as though he was being watched. The back of his hair stood up as he twiddled a dirty rag. Sero gazed at the painting. Everything about the portrait was spectacular and impressively realistic despite being a figment of his imagination. You weren’t real. So why did he feel nervous as your eyes followed him out the door?

Sero shook his head. The paint was making him see things. Besides, it was also late, and his strained eyes needed to rest. He passed out the moment his head hit the pillow. Sero expected to see you again in his dreams, and he waited. But tonight, you did not come.

A loud knock woke Sero up.

He hissed as the morning sun blinded his eyes. Another knock banged on the door, and Sero tossed the bed covers aside. Who wanted to see him so early in the day? Sero groaned, shuffling his feet down the hall. He answered the door with disheveled hair and yesterday’s clothes on his back. In hindsight, Sero should have made himself more presentable.

Only who would have guessed the person knocking on his door was you—the muse that lived in his dreams. Sero stumbled forward, grabbing the doorframe for support. Was he still dreaming? If he was, everything felt too real. Sero didn’t know whether or not to close his agape mouth, and you giggled.

“Hi, there!” Sero was taken aback by the sound of your voice. His breath hitched, and you tilted your head as though everything was normal. You bowed politely while sharing your name. “Sorry if I woke you up so early! I’m the new neighbor living down the hall. I forgot to introduce myself after moving in yesterday.”

“I-It’s f-fine.”

That was a lie, and Sero knew it. The young artist was in awe as he took in your overwhelming presence. You were more stunning in the flesh than in his imagination and artistic piece combined. His heart pounded as he studied your facial features. Everything was the same—your adorable nose, your lively eyes, and your radiant smile. They were the same ones he painted for hours until they looked perfect. Sero was sure he saw the brush strokes peeking through your skin.

“Hey, you okay?” Sero nearly laughed; he didn’t know where to begin with that question. You inched dangerously close to his face with a raised eyebrow. “You look a little pale, almost as if you saw a ghost or something.”

“I, ah, slept late last night,” he wheezed out, his chest squeezing itself tight. There was no way you were real. Sero swallowed a thick gulp. “I was, um, just working on—”

“An art piece?” Now that sent a shiver down Sero’s spine. You chuckled, dismissing the surprised look in eyes. “You’re covered in paint, silly!”

Sero relaxed slightly. “Oh, right…”

“Well, does this cute artist have a name?”

“I’m Sero Hanta, sorry about that,” he rubbed the back of his neck. You hummed, as though you already knew his name. A cheeky grin crept on your face. It was at that moment Sero noticed a playful gleam flash across your eyes. He knew because he painted that exact expression until his fingers became numb. But you weren’t real.

“Oh no worries,” you stood up straight, carrying an air of mystery. Your allure reeled Sero in like a siren beckoning a ship full of fishermen lost at sea. “I’m glad we finally had the chance to meet. Maybe we can talk some more, say this afternoon at a nearby café? You can even show me around the neighborhood. I’ve been meaning to stretch my legs after unpacking all day yesterday.”

“S-sure.”

“Perfect.”

On the surface, your smile was innocent. However, Sero picked up the subtle slyness hiding underneath. He knew because, like your eyes, he painted those exact lips. Sero’s hand twitched as he watched you saunter away. Seconds later, he slammed the door and rushed down the hall to his art studio.

Sero barged into the room with his chest heaving uncontrollably. Sweat beads rolled down his neck, and he felt oddly hot in his wrinkly clothes. The color on his face drained as he stumbled closer to the canvas. Raggedy breaths filled the room, shocked eyes growing wider with every step he took toward the art piece.

You were gone; only the background remained inside the canvas. Sero circled the easel, trying to make sense of what was happening. One hand pushed his hair up in distress. All the signs were pointing to one thing, and he refused to believe it. You weren’t real; you were just muse from his dreams. Just a beautiful face that teased him every night and Sero painted you to admire your beauty with his own eyes.

Sero shook his head, denying everything. He struggled to stay sane and believed he was still dreaming. Any minute now, he will wake up, and your portrait will be there to greet his eyes. Sero mumbled under his breath to calm down. The artist glanced at the canvas only to do a quick double-take.

Both legs caved under the immense weight that dropped on his shoulders. Sero crawled to the canvas, his throat going dry. One finger hovered above the lower righthand corner with words written in charcoal pencil that read:

Thanks for painting me!

Sero brought his vision to life…literally.

Thank you for reading!

#sero hanta x reader #sero x reader #bnha x reader #bnha imagines #sero hanta

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renjunfromthestars · 4 years

Text

work too much

Pairing: Mark + reader, Established relationship, Med School/Doctor!Mark (I can’t stop thinking about this omg)

Genre: Fluff, angst if you squint, and it’s me so a little bit of crack LOL

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: It’s the middle of Pandemic; there’s been a lot of changes to your life, but Mark is one of the only things that have always been constant, and you’re thankful for that. But Mark in typical Mark fashion is stressed and tends to over work himself, so you always try your best to support him in your own way

Can be read as an extension to more than or as a stand alone

Notes: proof read? ofc not. but I’ll say it once and I’ll say it again...Mark is a little awk and always works so hard (poor bby), so imagining him as a super stressed pre-med major (now Doctor!!) still absolutely wrecks me thank you goodbye

---

When the pandemic hit, it was simultaneously a blessing and a curse. A blessing, because online school definitely saved your grades (chegg also played a supporting role in this). And a curse because you and 7 million people suddenly found yourselves in a pandemic, and a pretty serious one at that.

When the news first came out about a small viral breakout in China, you didn’t think much of it. You were scared shitless when news of a recurring Ebola epidemic came to your attention, WebMd-ing every symptom and prevention technique so obsessively to the point that Mark had to confiscate your laptop for a second.

“Objectively it’s a really serious viral disease, but your chances of getting it are astronomically low. A vaccine was already developed since the first serious breakout in 2014. Plus, most of the cases are in Africa, and it’s very contained-” Mark stops. “Are you even listening?”

“I am,” you protest. “But I’m still going to be scared no matter what you say.”

Mark sighs, sitting back down on the couch after gently placing your laptop on the coffee table.

He ruffles your hair playfully, and your frown only gets deeper. “You silly, silly girl. Take my word for it, you’re fine.”

To be honest, you really should, but anxiety doesn’t discriminate, not even when you have a very knowledgeable boyfriend in medical school.

When you snuggle into his side and wail jokingly (or are you?) about being afraid of dying for the 4th time that week, you can almost see the defeat flash in Mark’s eyes. Yet, he doesn’t complain, and tells you things are going to be okay while wrapping his arms around you comfortingly.

For Mark, you’re eternally thankful.

When the pandemic hit, you didn’t really mind quarantining. You had the necessities: toilet paper, a Netflix subscription, and Mark, not necessarily in order of importance of course. The early months of the pandemic gave you a perfect time to recharge from all the grad school craziness. What really drove you insane were the lack of people taking social distancing and quarantine orders with a grain of salt. Mark scolds you when you say it’s just another form of natural selection, that you like to think that those kinds of people peaked in high school.

Mark on the other hand, is having the opposite experience, Because of the severity of the virus, he graduated from Med school a whole two months early to join other health care workers in the fight against covid. Mark is a smart guy; he’s cautious and plans accordingly-but you’re not going to lie- Mark being in the hospital scares you.

Although he doesn’t like to talk about it, you can tell things are stressful for him from the way his shoulders droop when he thinks you aren’t looking. Dark circles around his normally twinkling eyes, and you’re not even exaggerating when you think you see a white hair or two.

Mark doesn't like to talk about it and you understand, instead showing your support through your actions; you time dinner so that it’s ready right when he comes home, and are sure to give him time to recharge on his own. Mark also has trouble sleeping at night because of his work schedule, so you ordered a white noise machine in an attempt to soothe him. It works, but the poor boy still looks stressed in his sleep, with his eyebrows slightly furrowed and tense. You consider asking him to take some time off from the hospital, but Mark has a big heart and you believe in him. It’s a big part of why you and Mark get along so well, you think,--you have an uncanny ability to know what the other needs, even if they aren’t necessarily aware of it.

“Are you mad at me?”

You’ve just switched off the light. At 8:30, it’s a little early for most people to go to bed but you don’t mind it- you know he’s exhausted, and you don’t want to pressure him to stay up. If it were up to you, you’d be watching Netflix all night.

When you turn to look at him in the moonlight, he looks so worried that you feel your heart tighten a little.

“Of course not,” you frown. “What makes you say that?”

Mark scratches the back of his head. “It’s just that you haven’t really been talking as much to me lately. Because of the extra shifts I’ve been taking at the hospital lately, I know I haven’t been spending as much time with you, and I feel bad about it, I really do, so I understand why you’d be mad-”

As he rambles on, you deadpan a little. He seems so tightly strung it’s almost comical. When he notices you sighing, he almost combusts.

“I’m really, really sorry (y/n). I promise I’ll make it up to you at a later time. You’re so important to me, I don’t want you to feel like I’m taking you for granted-” He stops when you reach across the covers to cradle his face.

You lean in to kiss him, and he’s so confused that it takes him a moment to close his eyes.

His lips are a little chapped, but you don’t mind, instead making a metal note to buy him a little watermelon lip smackers later, and yes-lip smackers because imagining professional Doctor Mark using lip smackers is hilarious to you.

When you pull away, you’re nose to nose, foreheads touching. You’re both silent for a moment, a quiet understanding passing between you two.

“I love you so much,” he whispers.

A smile begins to spread across your face. You know you shouldn’t tease him, but you do anyway.

“I know you do.”

“Tell me you love me too,” he almost whines, and you can’t help but stifle a laugh.

“Don’t laugh, this is a serious matter,” he grumbles, wrapping his arms around your waist.

You give in, pecking him on the lips once more.

“You silly, silly boy. Of course I love you too. You don’t even need to ask.”

Mark closes his eyes, and when he mumbles something about not knowing what he’d do without you, your heart nearly melts.

You close your eyes too, and as you both slowly drift to sleep, you think about how life's going good despite it’s new changes—pandemic and all. You have Mark, and that is something that will never change.

Bonus

Mark scratches the back of his head, glances at you, the little neon green tube in his hand, and then back at you. All you do is just beam at him.

“And?”

“Of course I love it, but uh, isn’t it a little girly?” he says sheepishly.

You pinch his ear playfully and he turns the slightest shade of pink.

“Don’t disrespect the lip smackers, it comes highly recommended not to mention coveted among almost every teenage girl.”

“But I’m not a teenage girl,” he mumbles, and you spring into action, mustering the most disappointed face you can.

They should honestly give you a honorary degree in acting, because when Mark looks at you, he might as well act like you just told him your dog just died.

He uncaps the little stick and quickly applies it all over his lips, rather intensely. When he looks back up at you, he flashes you the most awkward smile and thumbs up you’ve ever seen in your life. With his lips unusually pink and waxy from the over application, he looks like a clown, so what other choice do you have, but laugh.

Mark catches on pretty quickly, and kisses you in retaliation; he tastes like watermelon.

“You’re an evil, evil girl,” he murmurs, “But I love you anyway.”

“All jokes aside, you’re going to actually use it right?” (you used your own hard earned money to get this for him, a whole two dollars and twenty five not including tax )

“Of course I will. I love everything you give me.” (You know this is a lie, he doesn’t like it when you give him a smack on his butt.)

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happyandticklish · 3 years

Text

Endurance Training

Izaya and Shinra have a game they like to play. Some of them are more in denial about the purpose of the game than others.

Izaya’s eyes were closed, a mockery of peace as he lay back against the upholstery of his couch. His eyebrows twitched downwards, a tell for his current unease. His legs were spread wide, their only protection thin shorts that hands could easily slip into. He let out another rattling breath, gripping the sides of the couch tighter.

“You’re doing great,” came the gentle encouragement from below him, and he huffed out a laugh which was meant to be derisive but was far too exhausted for that. “We’ve been going for twenty minutes now and you haven’t folded. You must really love this; I know even I wouldn’t be able to handle this.”

“I d-don’t like it,” Izaya snapped immediately, his cheeks turning an even brighter shade of pink. Heat flashed through his body in waves, prompted from both embarrassment and laughter. “It’s endurance training.”

“If you say so,” Shinra said, rolling his eyes. “I don’t get why you can’t just admit that you like it.”

A couple months ago Shinra had stumbled across the delightful discovery that Izaya was ticklish. He had teased him a couple times with the information afterwards, but he had never expected things to go the direction they had. When Izaya had approached him with an obviously fake nonchalance and asked him to tickle him again, Shinra had been ecstatic and more than a little confused. After further inquiry, Izaya had admitted that he wanted to train himself to overcome the weakness as he didn’t want anyone else taking advantage of it. Evidently, Shinra was someone he trusted with this task.

Shinra had agreed, not willing to turn down an oppurtunity to see his best friend smile, and the two had met up to have their first “session”, as Shinra liked to call them. They had agreed that bondage was out as Izaya wanted to figure out how to control his reactions on his own as opposed to using the assistance of an outside force. So instead Izaya had simply laid down on the couch and Shinra had gone to town on him with little preamble. That first time there had been no resisting; it took all of two seconds for Izaya to brake into crazed laughter, squirming and pleading wildly. Admittedly, Shinra had not given him much warning, so the info broker had not had time to prepare himself for the attack. Izaya had been mad about it, but Shinra liked to think it had added to the experiment.

After that first time, they had settled into a pattern. Izaya and he would meet up once a week for these sessions, meeting at whoever’s house was most convenient. Thus far, Izaya had been unable to cure his sensitivity. Shinra had a separate theory that Izaya didn’t actually care about endurance and just wanted an excuse to be wrecked, but anytime he had brought it up in the past Izaya had turned bright red and scoffed at the theory.

Today they were doing a very particular test. It was one of their favorite kinds of sessions, though Izaya insisted it was only because it was the hardest to resist. Izaya’s thighs were easily the most ticklish spot in his body, rivaled only by his hips, and anytime Shinra had gotten anywhere near them in the beginning the other boy would shove him off with frantic giggles. Now though, Izaya had built up a better endurance to it, or at the very least would allow Shinra to touch him without decapitating him. Izaya’s legs were spread on the couch and Shinra knelt in-between them, wringing all kinds of uncontrollable noises from his lips. To anyone else, the situation might have looked far more risqué than it was in reality.

“Hmm…. G-gahaha, hnh, ahhh,” Izaya suddenly slammed one hand down on the couch, blowing out a puff of air through pursed lips. “You uhuhutter ahahass.”

“Is this bothering you?” Though the words came out far more teasing than Shinra had intended, he was genuinely interested in the answer. Right now he was tracing light circles with two fingers on the sensitive inner skin of each thigh, slow and languorous and wholly impossible to resist. The only reason Shinra still had any of his fingers still attached to his hand, was because, technically, Izaya had asked for this.

Izaya was walking the razor’s edge of insanity. His whole body was tense, those two simple touches somehow scurrying to every other nerve in his body making him feel as though he were being electrocuted. He arched back on the couch, one hand flying out and slamming into the couch again before coming up to grip his hair. It was taking every ounce of self-control not to shove Shinra off of him. In a way, this was almost worse than bondage.

“N-Nohoho,” he giggled, grinning through his hands. “P-Pfft, gohohod, hohoholy shihihit!”

“It’s not bothering you?” Shinra raised an eyebrow. “Oh, okay then. I was going to stop and give you a break, but if it’s not bothering you I guess I’ll just keep going then.”

“Y-Yohohou—” Izaya broke off his own sentence to break into frustrated cackles.

Two minutes. That was the amount of time Izaya could handle that particular method of tickling. He lunged forward, gripping Shinra’s shoulders but not stopping him, not really. “I-Ihihihit fuhuhuhucking tihihickles, ohohokay, gahahahad!”

“So you want me to stop?” Shinra asked, momentarily startled by the sudden movement. “Are you caving?”

“No!” The word exploded out of him in a shriek as Shinra teased the innermost patch of his thighs, the spot where his legs met his hips, and the combination of his two worst spots being tormented drove him nearly to the edge. “J-Juhuhuhust dohohoho somethihihing ehehelse, plehehehease!”

“Are you sure you can handle that?”

“Yehehes!”

“Okay, you asked for it.”

“Whahahat dohohoho yohou mehe—nohohoOHOHO, AIHIHEHEH!”

Izaya flew back into the couch as Shinra started roughly squeezing his thighs, his thumbs digging, or so it seemed, directly into his nerves. Izaya’s laughter turned silent and he grabbed a nearby pillow, hugging it close to his chest so he wouldn’t accidentally hit something, or someone. This time, when combined with the twenty minutes of build-up from slow tickling, Izaya lasted approximately thirty seconds before he slammed his legs closed and shoved Shinra roughly away from him.

Shinra laughed as he fell backward, shaking his head. “Wow… I’m surprised you lasted that long.”

Izaya hugged his legs close to his chest, giggling tiredly. “T-That was mean and you know it.”

“Hey, you’re the one who wants to do these sessions anyway,” Shinra pointed out, standing up and coming to sit over on the couch next to him. Izaya flinched as he did so and his hands flew out to block an attack, an anticipatory squeak falling from his lips. “Woah, relax, I’m done. I really did a number on you, didn’t I?”

“Nohoho,” Izaya denied though he couldn’t seem to stop giggling. The sight was honestly adorable. Shinra was so used to seeing his friend act cool and confident, a snarky remark always on his lips, that these meetings were always a lovely reminder of how human he really was. Izaya’s legs were trembling still, held protectively to his chest, and his entire face was red, even the tips of his ears tinged pink. Shinra felt his heart flutter and thump against his chest, a gentle reminder of feelings he had refused to put a name to. He turned away before his face could reveal anything and pushed forward with a casual nonchalance he didn’t feel.

“You know, if you want me to tickle you, you can just say so,” he said. “You don’t have to go through this whole charade every time—we all know you’re far too ticklish too resist anyway.”

Izaya froze before narrowing his eyes and glancing away. “Fuck you.”

“You’re only mad because you know I’m right.”

“No, seriously, fuck you.”

Shinra laughed, deciding that one day he would get around to telling Izaya how he felt. For now he was content to sit on the couch and gently tease his friend while the hours slowly ticked by.

It wasn’t the worst way to spend your day.

#tickling #izashin #shinzaya #tickle fic #shinra kishitani #shinra x izaya #izaya orihara #durarara!!#durarara #fanfiction

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