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toniiswrld · 3 months

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into you ☆ l.at

lee anton x fem reader

your mom and her best friend set you up with your old friend from childhood, and you two pretend to date in order to keep them happy. but what happens when feelings start to brew, and the past gets revealed?

college!au, fake dating, ex friends to semi friends to lovers, slowburn, mutual pining, fluff, a bit of angst, smut 18+ MDNI, anton is a self sabotaging idiot.

🎀 cw. smut (ofc), dom!anton, fingering, not really a size kink but anton's size is mentioned a few times, overstimulation, unprotected sex (pls wrap it up,,) creampie, little bit of dry humping, cum eating

⭐️ wc. 15.7k

🎧 into you . tamia • sycamore girl . rex orange county

"i feel like it's so humiliating having my mom set me up on a date." you hold the phone in between your cheek and your shoulder, trying your best to find a good enough outfit.

your best friend, sky, was your emotional support through this whole situation. "it's kind of cute though, like she's looking out for you in a way" she says over the speaker, and you roll your eyes at her comment.

"right, because nothing is cuter than your mom saying 'you're so lonely i'm going to take matters into my own hands'," a hard sigh leaves your lips.

"well when you put it that way, i guess you're right. but this could be nice! what if he's nice, what if he's hot-"

"please, i don't really have a lot of hope in whatever nice guy has picked out"

speaking of the nice guy, you heard the doorbell ring and you sigh again knowing that the next few hours you could be spending rotting in bed, you will now be spending with a mystery man who's probably some secret asshole that's masked as an angel by your mother.

you get off the phone with sky and make your way downstairs towards the door, slipping your shoes and sweater on. you look to your side and see your mom walking down the hall with a bright smile on her face. as you open the door, you see someone you never expected to see.

lee anton.

he has this near fake smile on his face when the door opens, making eye contact with you and then smiling at your mom who was behind you.

"hi y/n, hi mrs.l/n" he starts and you have to fight your eyes from rolling so hard. why was he here? surely he wasn’t… no. no way

"hello anton, you look so handsome, come in, come in!" your mom now is pushing you to the side to drag the boy into the house.

"now y/n, i didn't tell you before because i wanted to make sure you wouldn't freak out, but anton here is your date!"

and that's when a piece of your soul died.

"excuse me?" you try your absolute hardest to not yell, but the confusion and slight anger is building up.

ever since you were little, your mom and antons mom always wished that you two would end up together. you two were friends up until high school, but with new friend groups and new interests the two of you went down different paths. it happens and there weren't really any hard feelings, at least until he started completely ignoring your existence. you didn't hate him, but you were not pleased with his past behavior. and you definitely were not pleased right now.

"don't be rude y/n, this is a great thing! you're a beautiful girl, and anton is a handsome boy. you two have known each other since you were kids and you both go to the same university! it's a perfect match. now you two hurry up and go so you don't miss the reservation i made. have fun" she shoves you two out of the door before you could protest any further and anton is saying goodbye to your mom in his fake sweet voice he's always used with her.

if only she knew that you two haven't spoken since junior year of high school.

you fold your arms across your chest while you walk towards antons car, him rushing to catch up to you so he could open the door.

"how nice of you" you taunted, giving him a fake smile before stepping into the passenger's seat of his car. he gives you that same fake smile before closing the door, not saying a word to you. he walks around the car and gets in, putting on his seatbelt and starting the car.

"you want aux?" he finally speaks, pressing the bluetooth options on his car to connect your phone if you'd like. you happily oblige, not wanting to listen to whatever he wants to put on. even if you two had very similar taste in music, you would always argue that your taste is better. once you press shuffle on your main playlist, he pulls his car out of your driveway and starts the drive to the restaurant your mother picked out for you.

you shift in the seat so you're leaning towards the window, and you open your messages to text your friend sky about the insane situation you were in,

you: oh my fucking god you: its anton you: lee fucking anton!! my mom is sick sky: omg you two haven't talked since highschool! sky: please don't kill him you: no promises sky: maybe you two will fall in love now you: over my dead body sky: if you are gonna be in the same space as him for the next few hours, maybe ask him to put me on with wonbin you: do not use my pain and suffering as a way to get dick sky: i'm trying to find ways for us both to benefit from this! sky: i shouldn't have to suffer because you don't want to talk to anton sky: plus anton is hot! as fuck! i say give it a shot, and if it works out then i can have a shot at his sexy friend you: you are evil sky: update me later babes

aside from the music playing in the car, the ride to the restaurant was silent. anton wanted to talk, but he just couldn't find the right words to say. not like you would want to listen to anything he'd say anyways. but it was just for the car ride, he told himself he'd talk once you two were seated.

pulling into the parking lot, anton parks the car and turns off the ignition. he got out of the car and did a slight speed walk so he could open your door to let you out, and this time the smile was genuine as you got out of the car.

he's not an asshole, you think. i guess i could try and make the most of this date.

he was never an asshole to you, even throughout the years you haven't spoken. of course, avoiding you and acting like you don't exist at events could be taken as being an asshole, but it's not bad compared to the way you've been treated by other men. he's always been a sweet, well-mannered, soft spoken boy.

you two weren't best friends back then, but it still hurt when the two of you drifted apart.

as you two walk into the restaurant, anton talks to the host about the reservation your mother made and you two get seated at a nice booth near the back.

"so, did you know about this? like, did you know that i was the person you were getting set up with?" you start, not looking at him but looking at the menu to get a feel of what you'd want once the waiter comes around to ask for drinks.

"well not at first, but my mom kept hinting at things that traced back to you. wasn't surprised though, they've been trying to set us up since we were in elementary school." he says it almost with no emotion, and you react with a small laugh that makes him smile.

"what kinds of things did she say?" you're intrigued once you really process what he said.

"well" he starts, and you lean into the table with interest. "it wasn't anything out of the ordinary. she was just like 'you should come to visit this weekend, there's a girl i think you would really hit it off with. you actually know her and you two would make a great couple blah blah blah.' things she's already said to me before trying to set me and you up. your mom really didn't give you any hints about today?" it was his turn now to be intrigued, remembering how shocked you were to see him at the door earlier.

"i had no idea. i was scared she was setting me up with some ugly asshole that she would think i would like, when she really has no idea what my type is. she just told me to come for the weekend and was like 'oh he's a sweetheart you're going to love him!' and that was that." you mock your moms swooning voice and anton laughs.

the next hour and a half at the restaurant went well, you two were able to break the awkwardness and catch up from the past years. it felt good honestly. the relief of getting a friend back was always the best feeling.

once you two finished eating, the waiter came around to hand you guys the bill. you figured you two would just split it, this was technically a date but you didn't really think of it that way. and you didn't want anton spending his money on you, you both were forced on this 'date' and it wouldn't be fair in your eyes for him to pay for you. you quickly turn to grab your wallet out of your purse, but once you get your card out the waiter is already walking away with antons card.

"dude, you didn't have to do that!" you whisper yell at him, and he just chuckles.

"don't worry about it. date or not, if you pulled your card out it would look like i was some broke asshole trying to split the bill" he says in his soft voice and you nod, understanding where he was coming from.

the waiter comes back around with antons card, and you guys make your way out of the restaurant and back to his car. he opens the door for you again, you step in and make yourself comfortable this time, adjusting the seat to your liking.

the ride to your house was silent, but it was a comfortable silence. you didn't really know what this meant for the two of you. were you guys friends again? was this really a date and there were more in the foreseeable future? was this just a one time thing?

to be completely honest you didn't want to date anton. not that he wasn't attractive, you would be living a lie if you said he wasn't. he was definitely one of the most attractive guys you've ever seen, but it would just be weird to date him. you guys were friends and it was still a semi-mystery on where you two stand in terms of friendship. and did you really want to date someone your mom set you up with? you're still in college and honestly you don't know what exactly you want yet.

"so um, i'll walk you to the door" suddenly the quiet was awkward again as he got out of the car to let you out and walk you to the front door. and now here you two were, standing awkwardly in front of the door both trying to think of something to say.

why was it so weird now? you were both fine holding a conversation not even an hour ago.

"sorry that our moms pushed us into doing this, but it was nice to uh- it was nice to talk to you again" anton puts his hands in his jean pockets and looks down at you with a sheepish smile, and you look up at him and smile back.

"yeah, it was nice seeing you. you're not gonna go ghost on me again after this are you? cus i know where you live, and i'll tell your mom" you threaten him, and he puts his hands up in defense. if there's one thing you remember about your friendship with anton, it was that his mom did not play about you. if even a scratch got on you when you and anton were together, he would get an earful about being too reckless. even if you were the reckless one

"there's no need for all of that! i won't go ghost on you, it's nice to get a friend back"

"well then, i'll see you on campus?" you look up at him, and he nods.

"see you on campus"

and with that, you put your keys into the door and make your way into the house, giving anton a small wave goodbye before closing the door and taking off your shoes. as you make your way through the house and pass the living room, you see your mother sitting on the couch with a smile so wide her face probably hurts.

"next time you ask me to come home for the weekend to go on a date, i'm blocking your number" you joke, and she rolls her eyes before getting up and walking towards you excitedly.

"how did it go? isn't he just the sweetest boy? are you guys going out on another date? did you kiss?" she wiggles her eyebrows and you nearly gag.

"mom! oh my gosh, no i did not kiss anton! what kind of girl do you think i am? i don't kiss on the first date" she lets out a small pfft at your response.

"so you’re saying there's a second date?" the tone in her voice is teasing and expectant, and you shut her down again.

"that's not what i meant... and i wouldn't even call that a date. we had a nice time though"

"i think you should give him a chance y/n" her hands run up both your arms, giving them a small squeeze when she reaches your shoulders. she gives you a look that almost makes you want to give into her, but you have to stand on your own words.

"i think that, i'm going to go upstairs and go to sleep and forget today happened"

the next day you're making your way back to campus, leaving earlier in the day so you can hang out with sky before she's too tired to listen to your rambling.

"i can't believe you didn't text or call me last night to give me all the juicy details about your date with anton!" sky whines, plopping next to you on the couch with a frown on her face.

"it was not a date, and i wanted to tell you in person that's why i didn't tell you anything! you should be thanking me for being such a thoughtful and considerate friend"

"yeah yeah, now let's hear it. how was it? what was he wearing, did he smell good, did you guys kiss-"

"what is up with people thinking i just go around kissing everyone? i did not fucking kiss anton, and i didn't smell him! you weirdo..." you playfully slap her shoulder, and she giggles. "but it was fine. it was more like catching up with an old friend than a date."

"so are you guys friends again? it's been how many years since you've talked?"

"like 3 years now... it's so weird! it was so awkward at the start too, like i didn't know what to say to him and then it being a date that our moms planned just made it even worse"

"this is good though! now that you two are friends, i can stop trying to avoid his friend." she’s smirking now, and you give her the meanest side eye. she’s been crushing on wonbin for months now, but she didn’t want to date one of antons friends for your sake. You did have some mutual friends, but you wouldn't go past the line of friendship with anyone who was associated with anton because you didn't want to cross paths with him more than necessary.

"i really can't believe you would take advantage of this situation to hook up with wonbin!"

"i'm just putting it in the air that i would totally fuck antons friend if given the opportunity. and with your little situation you give me the perfect opportunity to shoot my shot" she says matter of factly, and you know that you can't stop her once she has her mind to something so you just sigh.

"you're unbelievable"

after debriefing your saturday with sky, you two were still hanging out on the couch watching tv. truthfully, the tv was watching you both since you were both on your phones. while you were scrolling through videos, an unexpected notification pops on the top of your screen.

it was anton. what was he texting you for? technically you two were friends again, but you didn't know you two would be back on a texting basis so soon.

ant: are you back on campus? ant: this is anton btw you: i knew it was you you: but yeah i'm on campus, what's up? ant: can you meet me in the dining hall you: right now? ant: if you're not busy right now, then yeah you: i'll be there in 10

“i'm gonna go to the dining hall to get some snacks, you want anything?”

“just a soda pleaseee”

you go to your room to change your sweatpants to jeans and throw on a hoodie, then you make your way out of your apartment to meet anton. luckily, it wasn't a long walk from where you lived. it was a small apartment off campus that you and sky split. as you’re nearing your destination, you see the boy standing outside on his phone while he waited for you. he looks up and sees you, waving you over once you notice him.

“hey” he breathes out once you reach him, and you put your hands in your hoodie pocket while you look up at him.

“hi” you give him a small smile, following him as you two walk into the dining hall.

“you weren’t busy or anything, right? i didn't mean to interrupt your afternoon” he finds a nice table for you two to sit, and you watch as he fidgets with his fingers.

“no, no don't worry i wasn't doing anything. but what's up?”

he lets out a sigh and runs his fingers through his hair. he seemed nervous, which was making you nervous. you literally saw him yesterday, what could have happened in the last 24 hours?

“don’t be mad, okay?”

“you can’t tell me not to get mad anton, now i'm preparing to be mad.” you roll your eyes, the concern you had turning into a lack of patience. he should know by now how much of an impatient person you were, never liking suspense or surprises.

“well um, after yesterday my mom was really happy that we went on a ‘date’,” he puts finger quotes over the word date, and you raise an eyebrow “...and she kept going on and on about us being a couple”

“you told her we weren’t dating, right?”

silence. it was your time to sigh now, already knowing where this was headed.

“anton…” your voice drifts, and he jumps to defend himself.

“she was just so happy! i didn't want to let her down. so she’s kind of under the assumption that we’re dating.” he puts his head down, probably because he expected you to start yelling at any moment.

“dude! you can't just do that without telling me, now my mom’s gonna think we’re together too” it was your time to sigh now, confusion and a tang of anger brewing through you.

“i'm sorry, really. but thats why i needed to see you, i think i have a solution for this”

“the solution better be you telling your mom that we’re not together, anton” your voice is serious, and you fold your arms over your chest.

“well not exactly, we could just let our moms think we’re a couple whenever we are around them, but we don't have to really be together! that way we can still be friends and they can be happy” he says it like it's the greatest idea in the world, and you stare at him blankly for a few seconds.

“are you insane? i am not doing that.” a scoff leaves your lips, and he gives you a defeated look before he tries again.

“it's just for our moms! no one has to know” it’s honestly comical at this point how he was borderline begging you. but you understand where he’s coming from. if you told your mom that you and anton really weren’t dating, you would never hear the end of it and she would keep trying to get you two together.

“i'll think about it. but you're buying me lunch”

you spent the night in your room thinking. it really wasn't a bad idea, but fake or not, did you want to date anton? just for the sake of your moms, and no one else had to know. it would be believable in the eyes of your moms, since you two were friends again you two would be hanging out.

i guess i could pretend to date him for a little bit. how often would we be around our parents for it to be a problem? if we��re always on campus, they won't expect to see us that much. you were mumbling to yourself, weighing your options before you decided to text anton your decision.

you: i thought about it ant: so? you: it's just for our moms you: and you're buying me food for a month! ant: deal

you have your head in your hands while you try to keep yourself focused for the last 20 minutes of class, bored out of your mind while your professor talks at the slowest pace known to man. you're spacing out now, twirling your pen between your fingers and staring straight forward. letting your eyes drift, they fall on anton. he was sitting in the row in front of you, and from where he was sitting you were able to see his side profile. it almost looked like he was sleeping, which wouldn’t surprise you since you were also super bored.

how do you go back to being friends with someone after years of not talking? the two of you were cool but you can't help but think that it would be awkward for a little bit until you two were comfortable again. how much has he changed? how much have you changed? what if you have nothing in common anymore, and it was the universe's plan for you two to drift apart?

stop overthinking things, you guys are just friends. there was nothing to overthink, right?

after a few more minutes of arguing with your inner monologue, class is finally over. you're packing up your things when you notice someone is standing over you. you look up to see anton.

“do you want to get lunch? if you don't have any classes after this, of course. it'll be me and some of my friends, you can invite sky too if you want since i know you’re not very familiar with all of them” he says to you softly. You were kind of hungry now that he’s brought up food, and who would you be to deny a free meal?

“thank god you asked me, i'm starving. let me text sky to see if she wants to join” You get out of your seat and follow anton out of the classroom and to the dining hall.

you text sky to come to the dining hall, and that you'll be having lunch with anton. You tell her that wonbin will be there too knowing that she’ll get there faster than the speed of light. and you were right, once you and anton were turning the corner you could see sky out of breath as she came up to you.

“y/n!! no matter what i do, i just can't get my grade up higher than a c in chem! i don't know how anyone is passing that class, i swear i'm going to kill my professor- oh, hi anton!” sky is ranting to you while barely catching her breath, and then she realizes that anton was standing next to you. she gives him a smile, and then gives you a look.

if anton wasn’t right there, you would hit her and tell her to cut it out. You knew her look was a ‘he looks good’ type of look, and you didn't want him to pick up on her nonsense.

“hey sky, and who’s your chem professor? i heard mr.jung was a pain in the ass, one of my friends has him for chem too” you all make your way to where antons friends are sitting now, eying the group to see if anyone else you know is there.

“i have mr.jung! i swear im gonna kill myself if he doesn’t raise my grade.” sky pouts, and you all stand before the table, anton going to introduce you and sky to the group.

“guys this is y/n and sky” he raises his voice a bit so everyone can hear him, and everyone waves and says hi to you both. “y/n, sky, this is sohee, wonbin, sullyoon, and seunghan”

You already knew sohee and sullyoon, you all were partners in a project for bio last semester and got kind of close. and you didn’t know wonbin aside from sky thirsting over him for the last two years, showing you every little thing he posted on social media like he was some celebrity crush. and seunghan you weren’t too familiar with, could be simply because you don't have any classes with him in it and you don't know much of the friends anton has made since you two talked last.

you finally take a seat next to anton, sky and sohee sitting across from you. his friends are cool, you admit as you make good conversation with everyone at the table. you didn’t have a real friend group on campus, you mainly only talked to sky along with a few other people but they were all a part of different crowds. so it was nice that anton let you join in with his group of friends.

“do you want to get your food now? i can get it for you if you want to stay here,” anton leans over to talk to you, loud enough for only you to hear.

“no its fine ill come with” you turn to face him and you two let the table know you’re getting food and you’ll be right back.

you two grab trays and fill up your plates, now going to the line to pay for the food. You decide now you should quickly run over some rules about how this fake relationship is going to go, since you’re hanging out with his friends you don't want any suspicions about what your relationship with anton was.

“we’re keeping this whole thing a secret from our friends, right? ” you ask him, and he takes a moment to think before he responds.

“if you want to keep it a secret then sure, it might be weird to tell people that we’re faking a relationship, and that way we don't have to fake it in front of our friends” he lets out a soft laugh, and you nod in agreement.

“that’s true, telling sky that you’re my boyfriend would raise all kinds of hell”

Unfortunately, neither you or anton realized sohee was walking up behind you both and was able to pick up on the last bits of your conversation. intrigued, he butts in to stand in between you two. “hey guys, what's all this talk about boyfriend and girlfriend? You two dating?” he smirks, and you and anton stare at him and then at each other in shock.

this cannot be happening.

“What?” you let out a nervous chuckle “no, we’re not” it comes out faster than you can process, and you look at sohee with a smile hoping that he believes you. but he doesn't. not even a little bit.

he squints, giving you a look and then giving the same look to anton and then looking back at you. “You were just saying that anton was your boyfriend though.” you look past sohee to look at anton, he was paying for your food while you were being interrogated by sohee. Your body is heating up with anxiety, realizing nothing you say could get this boy to drop the topic. curse him for being so nosey.

“We just haven't told anyone yet, we didn’t want to make it a big deal.” anton chimes in before you could think of a reasonable response, and now you and sohee were looking at anton with wide eyes.

“this is great! we all thought there had to be something going on with you two,” he’s teasing you two now, and all you could do was sigh. this entire situation taking a sharp turn and you know that sohee was going to tell everyone, and there was no escape from being antons fake girlfriend.

Why did he have to tell sohee that you two were together? again, doing things without letting you know first. and he’s a bit of a loudmouth, so you know when he’s walking away that he’s going to tell the table that you two were together.

“What the fuck anton? Why did you do that” You whine, grabbing your food tray from him while you make your way back to the table.

You honestly don't even want to talk to him right now. You were annoyed, you were just agreeing that you two would keep it a secret?

anton follows close behind you, understanding your anger since he didn’t realize what he was saying until he said it. truthfully, his mind went into fight or flight for a moment. the easiest thing he could think of to get sohee to leave you two alone was to just give into what he was saying. obviously, he didn’t realize the gravity of his words until after the fact.

as you two approach the table, everyone is looking at you guys and smiling. You want to scream. this seriously cannot be my life.

“the love birds are back!!” Wonbin cheers, and the rest of the table follows along with whistles and cheers.

“y/n, why didn't you tell me! you had me thinking we hated him” sky pouts as you sit down, and antons ears perk up at this. you hated him? he took note in his mind to ask you about that later.

“you guys could have told us, y'know. we would have figured it out anyways. the tension is definitely there” sullyoon comments while she takes a bite of her food. the rest of the table nods in agreement, and you let out a small scoff.

What tension are they talking about? the few encounters with anton that you’ve had with him before this weekend were definitely tense, but only because it was awkward. Whatever tension they thought they felt was out of pure delusion.

You don't know how much more of this you could put up with.

the week went by slowly. almost too slow for your liking. it was finally friday, and your mom is texting you to come home for the weekend again, and to bring anton with you.

truthfully, you’ve been ignoring him all week. after that little stunt he pulled on monday, after you finished your food you lied and told everyone you had to get ready for your next class. it wasn’t a full lie since you did have a class, but it wasn't for another hour and a half. You just couldn't bear being at that table, and being around him. he texted you once you left to ask if you were alright, and you just gave him a simple ‘im fine’. he texted you again on tuesday, and then yesterday but you ignored them. You probably should respond, before he starts asking sky or sullyoon about you. and it would probably be a good idea to stop avoiding antons friends as well when you pass by them on campus. it wouldn’t be a good look for you or for anton, and you don't want to come off as rude to anyone

as you were packing some clothes along with your basic necessities to go to your moms house, your phone starts to ring. You walk over to where you set it to look at who was calling, and of course it was the person you were thinking about. You thought about declining it, but you decided to answer.

“What do you want, anton.” your voice was monotone and feigning annoyance, not really in the mood to talk to him.

“Um, are you doing anything right now?” he sounds nervous, and you decide maybe you should relax and talk to him calmly.

You might be upset with him right now, but you can’t be mean to him even if you tried. he was always sweet to you, so it wouldn’t be fair to talk to him like that if he wasn’t going to talk back.

“i’m just packing up some stuff to go to my moms. you’re going too, right? she wants to have a dinner or something, with us and your parents”

“yeah, that's why i called. im actually here to pick you up, it would be better if we showed up together than separately” he chuckles nervously and you hum in response.

“oh! okay well… i should hurry up then. i'll be outside in a few minutes.” you say quickly, and he lets out a soft ‘okay’ before ending the call. You shove everything into your little bag, not needing a lot since you already had things at your moms and you were only going to be there for the weekend. saying bye to sky, you put your shoes on and walk out to meet with anton outside.

once you push through the front doors of your apartment building, you see anton leaning on the door of his car while he waits for you. he sees you, and hurries to catch you and help you with your bag. it wasn't even a heavy bag, but the gesture was nice. and of course he’s opening the door to the passengers seat for you, making sure you’re fully seated before closing the door and making his way into the driver's seat.

he’s putting his seatbelt on when you decide to break the silence. “sorry for ignoring you all week. i was just kind of shaken by everything that happened monday” your voice is soft, playing with your fingers while you talk.

he doesn't say anything for a few seconds, and you start to wonder if he was mad at you. You couldn’t blame him, you would be mad if someone ignored you for a week too.

“it’s fine, i figured you wanted some space. i’m sorry i told sohee that we were dating, i kind of panicked and i didnt know how else to get him to leave us alone. and i didnt think he would go and tell everyone, so i’m sorry.”

“it’s okay, anton. i can't really be mad at you, because i don't even know if i would have said anything better than you did. it just caught me off guard” you’re looking at him now, shifting in the seat a bit so you weren't turning your neck too much. he looks at you and smiles softly, going back to looking at the road.

a comfortable silence fell between the two of you as he drove, the dreaded talk about monday relieving the awkward tension in the vehicle. as he turns into the neighborhood, you sigh knowing what's going to unfold once you step foot through the front door of your mothers house.

With the combination of your mom and antons mom being crazy about you two being together, you were glad that his dad was the only normal one. he was completely fine with you two just being good friends and you were so grateful for that. often, he would have to be the peacemaker in the room telling mrs.lee and your mom to calm down and let you two be.

“i think we should make some… ground rules for this whole thing. for now and for back on campus.” you state as he pulls into the driveway, and once he parks the car he shifts so he can face you.

“i agree, anything you have in mind?”

You two come up with some standard rules, some things are a hard no and some are subject to change.

rule #1- don't let anyone know its a fake relationship: it would be embarrassing if anyone knew that rule #2- keep it believable, but nothing extreme rule #3- adding onto number 2, keep the pda and flirting to a safe minimum, and no kissing rule #4- no dating/flirting with other people: fake or not, if people think you’re in a relationship do not try to get into another one. rule #5- anton owes you food for 3 months for putting you into this situation. its only fair! rule #6- the most important, do not catch feelings. You guys were just friends! two friends, pretending to date in front of your family and friends. it was all pretend though, no feelings were actually involved, right?

dinner went well, sitting next to anton while the adults talked about their own things and occasionally asking questions to the both of you. luckily not a lot of relationship topics were brought up. You two were able to have your own conversations throughout dinner, which reminded you of the dinners you all would have throughout your childhood.

once everyone was finished eating, anton helped your mother in the kitchen while you sat in the living room with his parents.

“y/n, i am so happy that you and anton are finally a couple! i feel like i’ve been waiting for this all my life” mrs.lee cheers, and you smile along with her. “isn't he just the sweetest boy?”

“he’s very sweet, probably the sweetest i’ve been with” you tell her and she's cheesing so hard. honestly, making the relationship believable wasn't going to be hard around mrs.lee and your mom, because you have no complaints about anton. he truly was the sweetest boy. even if you two weren’t really dating, he was respectful and very gentlemanly.

“We have his father to thank for that,” mrs.lee nudges at her husband, and he just gives a small chuckle at the comment.

“ i always taught him to be respectful. but truthfully the reason he’s so sweet to y/n is because he likes you” mr.lee starts, and you have to remember to not reject his words since you were trying to keep up an act here.

all you could do was let out an awkward laugh, not sure what to say to add onto the conversation. “maybe, but he’s sweet to everyone” you try to act humble, and mr.lee gives you a look that tells you that you were wrong.

“he may be nice to everyone, but i don't think you realize just how differently he treats you than anyone else. even when you two were younger and friends, he was always the nicest to you. and don't tell him i told you this, but he had a little crush on you back in middle and highschool.” he whispers the last part, and you feel your heart drop to your feet.

“h-he did? i had no idea…” words coming out soft now, you drop your head to stop the blood from rushing into your face.

“he would always come home and tell us about something you did that day. he got over it after a while, but i bet he’s so happy that you two are finally together!” mrs.lee swoons, and you suddenly feel lightheaded.

this is all too much. anton used to like you? how come he never said anything? You excused yourself from his parents, and made your way to the kitchen.

“hey mom, i’m a little tired so im gonna head upstairs.” You walk in to her drying and putting away dishes, while anton washes them. he looks over you, noticing the tone in your voice along with the look on your face wasn’t because of fatigue, but that something was wrong.

“okay baby, let me know if you need anything.” she walks to the end of the kitchen island where you were standing, giving you a hug goodnight. “anton, why don't you go with y/n upstairs? it's getting late, and i can finish up in the kitchen.” she turns from you to look at the boy scrubbing away at a pot, and he stops dead in his tracks at her words.

“i was just going to head back with my parents once we finished,” he starts, looking at your mom and then at you, not wanting to intrude. he did want to talk to you, but he didn’t want to be in your space if you didn't want him there.

“don't be silly, anton! You two are a couple and are old enough now, i don't have to separate you two” she laughs, and you and anton just stare at each other awkwardly. You were going to tell her to let it go, but because of the unique situation you two were in it was probably the best idea to follow your moms orders. You motion for him to follow you, you both saying goodnight to your mom and then to his parents. You’re walking towards the stairs to go to your room, when anton tells you that he’ll be back to get his bag out of his car.

While he grabs his things, you make your way up to your room. You leave the door open, just in case anton doesn't remember which room was yours. Walking to your window, you open it and stick your head out so you can get some fresh air.

What a night, you’re thinking to yourself. You need to calm down. With what happened on monday and what antons parents were telling you earlier, you were just too in your head. too much was happening too fast. Why was this affecting you so much? and with that you hear footsteps coming into your room and then a door closing.

“are you alright? You looked a little flushed downstairs” the soft voice calls to you, and you know that its anton.

You take a deep breath before turning to face him. “i'm fine. i am now, at least. i just kind of felt bad for lying right in my mom and your parents' faces. i had to get away from them” your voice is low while you speak, looking to the floor once again to avoid his eyes. he takes note of your body language, seeing that you’re a bit tense and awkward now but he doesn’t want to pry.

“if you want i can sleep on the floor,” he’s placing his bag on the chair by your desk, grabbing something to change into for bed.

“no, that's too uncomfortable. You can sleep on the bed” you say it in a way where its clear there's no room for debate, and he nods.

anton would never admit it to you, but he found you severely intimidating. even when you two were younger, he was always intimidated by you. You carried yourself well, you didn’t take bullshit from anyone, always got your way, and you were stubborn. he was surprised your personalities didn't clash, he felt like you wouldn't want to be friends with someone like him. but truthfully that's what brought you two together. it was like fire and ice, you were the fire and he was the ice to cool you down.

but with being the ice, he was too scared to touch you in fear that he would melt.

another week passes by, and you feel like you were going insane. You don't know what it is, but every time you see anton, your heart starts racing, your face heats up along with the rest of your body.

When he holds your hand or rests his hand on your thigh when you two were out with friends, you had to keep your composure to the best of your ability. especially when he would subconsciously graze his thumb across the back of your hand, the action small and going unnoticed to the naked eye, but feeling too intimate for you and you would pull your hand away.

the days that he would come over to your apartment or you would go to his dorm to hang out after classes, you found yourself feeling nervous. especially when you two were at your place, seeing him in your room and in your bed had you feeling like jelly. sometimes he would fall asleep before you, and you wouldn’t wake him up. it would be late, and you would feel bad for waking him up and making him go back to his dorm. You were comfortable enough around him anyways to tell him to move, and he never slept too close to you throughout those nights. a deep part of you wished he did, though. but you don't want to think about crossing that path yet.

a few more days passed, and on wednesday, you went with him to his swim practice so you two could go back to your apartment and order takeout once he was finished. You brought a book with you since you didn’t know much about swimming, and you wanted to keep yourself occupied while you waited.

an hour of practice goes by and lets just say, not a single page of the book you brought with you was read. not like you would be able to focus on reading anyways, seeing how he swam in the water was a lot more entertaining than you thought. along with how he looked when he pushed himself out of the water, full body on display. his broad shoulders, his toned arms and stomach, the droplets of water dripping from his hair down his back, the way he throws his head back to move his hair out of his face-

Wait a damn minute.

You needed to leave, feeling hot suddenly. Were you really sitting here thirsting over anton? of course, you always found him attractive. You would be silly if you didn't. but you never had any thoughts about him. and you don't want right now, in the campus pool, to be where you start. You walk down the bleachers, trying to think of an excuse of why you’re leaving the building.

“y/n? are you leaving?” anton catches you before you could find him, you turn around to see him speed walking towards you and you almost let out a giggle seeing he hasn't taken his goggles off.

“it’s just kind of humid in here. i'm gonna sit outside until you finish, okay?” you clutch your bag a bit tighter, him standing wet and shirtless in front of you is making you nervous. he’s peering down at you, smiling lightly before he lets you know he’ll be out in around 30 minutes.

You nearly trip on your way out, feeling refreshed once you finally escape the pool room air. You take your phone out of your pocket, debating on texting sky. she didn’t know that you and antons relationship was all a facade, so what exactly could you tell her? should you just tell her the truth? You couldn't do that, that would be breaking the rules. and who knows what she would do if she found out. You had to mask it with something else in order to get your feelings off your chest.

You: sky You: sky pls You: i'm going insane sky: what what what You: okay so… yk me and anton sky: i’m aware You: well we’ve been together for about two weeks and some days You: and there's been some tension You: that wasn't there before sky: like sexual? sky: you havent fucked that boy yet? You: omfg You: no! we haven't gotten there yet… sky: so ur telling me, you've been dating a fine ass man… sky: and you havent fucked him… for what reason? sky: better than me y/n… i would have been jumped his bones You: sky you are so unserious You: but help me out here! do i tell him? or do i just go for it sky: i say talk to him first because what if he isn't ready You: ur so right sky ily sky: lyt babes ;)

Using sex fantasies as a mask for your feelings was definitely a choice, but it helped you out regardless. of course, now you have more things to think about. did you really want to date anton? You told yourself you didn't before, but now you weren't so sure. he was the full package, everything you could ask for in a guy. so there was really nothing stopping you. but you two were friends.

he also used to like you back in grade school. key word: used to. What if he completely got over you and wouldn’t even think about dating you now? this was a tough situation, and you don't know how much longer you could keep this up with repressed feelings.

after 10 more minutes of overthinking, you can feel a presence behind you so you quickly turn your body to see anton right behind you.

“You ready?” he’s looking down at you again, hair slightly covering his eyes because of the beanie he wore. his body once again covered up by the baggy hoodie along with the black sweatpants he wore. You would never be able to guess how built he really was under the clothes he chose to wear.

You realize you might be staring a little too hard for a little too long so you give him a nod. “Yeah, let's go” and he’s taking you by the hand while you follow him to his car.

he drives you two to the nearest food place you guys could agree on. You two agree on getting wings for tonight, and then make your way to your apartment. once you enter, you see sky sitting in the living room. she gives you a look only you two would be able to understand, with anton right behind you.

sky greets you two, and anton greets her back while you take off your shoes and then make your way into the kitchen. You grab two sodas, and walk out to where anton was standing. he was usually a bit awkward around your apartment if you weren’t telling him where to go, too scared that he would touch something he shouldn’t.

following you to your room with the food, anton shuts the door softly behind him. the boy was already in comfortable clothes, taking a shower before he left the locker rooms after practice and made sure that he brought something he wouldn't be uncomfortable in. You were still wearing a pair of jeans and a cute crop top under a zip up hoodie.

“i'm gonna change in the bathroom, you can pull the food out and put something on the tv,” you tell the boy sitting on your bed, and he hums in response while you leave the room. Walking over to the bathroom down the hall, you take this time to relax yourself.

You quickly change into a pair of sweats and an old tshirt, and you walk further down the hall to the living room to quickly talk to sky.

“are you fucking him tonight? let me know so i can put in my headpho- ow!” you pinched her arm before she could finish her sentence.

“i am not fucking him! i just came out here to tell you that i'm gonna talk to him about it”

“okay, but if there's a change of plans let me know!”

truthfully you were going to tell him about your feelings, just not tonight. maybe friday, you got invited to a party that sohee was throwing at his frat and you know that anton will be there too.

You walk back into your room now, seeing the food laid out and a movie ready for you as you get situated next to anton on your bed. he put on some action movie, which was a genre you both equally enjoyed. being around anton was comfortable. You two were able to sit in silence, laugh, and talk without any judgments.

this could either end really good or really, really bad.

it was friday. the day you would tell anton about your feelings. Was it a good idea to tell him at a party? probably not, but the influence of alcohol might help you build up the much needed courage. What could possibly go wrong though, right? the worst he could say is no, and you two could just go back to being friends and drop the fake dating act.

You put on your best party dress, it was black and had the right amount of cleavage and rode up just enough for it to not be too skimpy. knowing how crazy sohee’s parties get, you wanted to make sure that you were dressed for the occasion along with getting antons attention.

sky calls you over, letting you know she’s ready to go. You ride in her car to the party, she’s known as the designated driver for you and your friends since she was the only one who didn't like to drink. What would you do without her?

right as you walk into the house, seunghan is at the door handing you a shot glass. You down it without question, making a face at the liquid burning down your throat. You would love to get absolutely shitfaced right now, but you want to find anton. You’re pushing through the crowd of people before you see him, he’s standing close to the patio window, red solo cup in hand while he talks to sohee and some other guys you’re not familiar with.

“hey anton,” you look at him happily, and he doesn’t even glance at you while he continues his conversation. Weird, he’s never blatantly ignored you like that, but maybe he thought you were someone else. You call him again and he finally looks at you. he glances at your outfit and then back to your face, little to no reaction to your presence.

“hi y/n” he looks at you with a look you can’t quite decipher, and you feel a slight tinge of pain in your chest at this. why was he suddenly so emotionless around you? was he drunk? “can i talk to you, it'll be quick?” he says loud enough for just you to hear, and he excuses himself from his friends while he leads you to a quiet, dimly lit hallway.

“What's up?”

and that's when he lays it on you.

“i think that we should end this.”

You nearly drop to your knees when you hear those words come out of his mouth. “huh?” is all you could muster up, playing it off as you couldn't hear him due to the party.

“this whole fake dating thing, i think we should end it. We’re just friends, right? not like we have feelings for each other or anything… and it’s just too much work and pressure to keep up with a fake relationship” he’s not looking at you now, and all you can do is stand there in shock.

it takes a minute for your brain to start working again, finally able to process your own thoughts and words.

“right. You’re right. i guess it’s for the best if we end it. i’ll um, i’ll see you around” and you’re walking away so fast anton didn't have a chance to say anything else and to stop yourself from crying in front of everyone at this party. You quickly find sky, interrupting her flirt session with wonbin to tell her you guys need to go. she’s holding your hand tight through the crowd and out the door, and once you’re in her car you’re letting it all out. the sobs are uncontrollable now, everything you held in 3 minutes ago just coming out.

You tell sky everything on the way home, feeling like there was no reason to keep anything a secret anymore. “that asshole! i’ll kill him, i really will” sky is heated now, she couldn’t stand seeing you like this and she couldn’t stand knowing who made you like this.

“he’s never talked to me like that. even when he’s annoyed at me! he’s never looked at me with absolutely no emotion… i don't understand what happened” you start to think out loud once you two are inside your apartment, tears dried and the confusion settling in. you’re pacing around the living room and you feel your phone vibrate in your purse. You pull it out to see anton calling you, and you press decline.

Whatever he has to say, you don't want to hear it. You should have known not to say anything. maybe if you had just waited until tomorrow. but if he wanted to end things, what would he have done if you confessed?

sky's phone was ringing now, she picks it up and is nearly yelling into her phone the second she presses answer.

“hello?... Yes, we’re fine. What the fuck is up with anton, man?…okay… i don't think that's going to happen for a while… okay bye.” she sets her phone down, and her eyes soften as she watches you continue to pace the living room. “that was wonbin on the phone, he said anton was a little drunk and he wants to talk to you when you can. they’re trying to sober him up now because he started drinking more after we left. What an idiot,” she’s next to you now, rubbing circles on your back while you stare at the wall.

Yeah, what an idiot. the both of you were idiots, it seems.

another week goes by, and you’ve completely shut everyone out. You ignore texts, you skip classes, you don't even leave the apartment to get food. thank goodness for doordash.

You check your phone, looking at all of the missed calls and messages from the people worried about you. one name sticks out the most, but that's the one name you don't want to talk to right now. avoiding him like he was the plague, along with any of his friends to make sure that he doesn’t hear about you.

Unknown information to you, but sky was out. she was out with the enemy, to be more specific. she had seen anton in the courtyard with wonbin and seunghan, and she made a beeline for the boy. he noticed her almost instantly, preparing for a well deserved lashing or maybe even a slap to the face, but she grabbed him by his forearm and dragged him to a quiet side of the courtyard where she could talk freely.

“You really fucked up, anton.” she's speaking softly. “she hasnt left her room in 5 days. i don't know what to do to get her out.”

“i’ve tried texting and calling her every day, but she doesn't respond.” his voice quieter than usual as he tries to explain himself.

“well can you blame her? you shut her feelings down before she could even get them out!” she’s quick to your defense, which was one of the reasons you loved sky. she always had your back.

“i… it's not like i don't have feelings for her, because shit, i’ve liked that girl since we were 13. but i didn't know that she felt the same way and i was too scared to ruin our friendship” he wanted to cry, ruining something that he wanted so badly with his own thoughts.

he knew that the fake dating would resurface old feelings, but along with the feelings came the other emotions that come with liking you. he was nervous around you, he was too scared that you wouldn’t like him back and that you were only doing this because he put you in this situation. Which was another reason he was too nervous to confess, because this relationship was fake. You two were friends who were just pretending to date. and neither of you were getting anything out of it, so why would you develop romantic feelings for him? he didn't think you liked him, and to protect his heart he had to let you go. but the moment he saw your face drop at that party with tears threatening to fall, he knew he made a mistake. he never wanted to see you make that face again, especially not if it was caused by him.

“You could have maybe asked her how she felt about you two before you just acted on a made up scenario in your head? like do you even think before you say things…” her voice is filled with confusion and annoyance, not understanding how someone could sabotage their own relationships the way he was. and you’re her best friend, so she felt obligated to get some answers for you.

“i was in panic mode! i couldn’t handle being her fake boyfriend anymore when i wanted to be with her for real. do you think she’ll hear me out?” if he had to get on his knees and beg you to give him another chance, he would. he couldn't bear not being with you, and he felt like he’d rather crawl into a corner and die than living his life without you again.

“i don't know, she’s doing everything in her power to avoid you right now. but you better fix this mess or i'll have your head on a stick” she smiles at the end of her threat, reaching to pat anton on the head before walking way.

he was going to make things right.

With a deep breath, anton is knocking on your front door. You were eating some leftovers from some food you ordered the day before, not bothering to order food today. sky must have forgotten her keys again, you think as you walk over to the front door.

“sky you can't keep forgetting your ke- oh.” the one person you dreaded seeing is standing at your door with a bouquet of flowers, and a bag of your favorite candy. if you weren't so upset right now, you probably would have swooned over him coming over unannounced.

“can we talk?” he takes in your appearance, you were wearing a hoodie along with a pair of shorts and slippers. You wouldn't say you looked a mess, but you would have put yourself together a bit more if you had known that anyone other than sky would see you today. his eyes are soft, filled with hope that you’ll let him in.

“i don't really want to talk to you right now” your face is blank, not wanting to show any sort of emotions. You could honestly cry, but you had to stay strong for yourself.

“please? it's really important,” it almost comes out as a plea, and you nearly drop the cold act. seeing him at your door like this, maybe you should let him in? not that you wanted to hear whatever he has to say, but he came all this way.

“fine, but make it quick” grabbing the flowers and candy from him, you let him in and you go to the kitchen to put the flowers in a vase. he sits on the end of your couch, and he's tapping his fingers on his knees while he waits for you to walk into the living room.

When you’re seated on the other end of the couch, you peer your head over to look at anton, who was almost visibly shaking from nervousness.

“okay, what do you want?” the cold act is back, wanting to hear him out before you fold. the gesture of him coming with flowers kind of gave away what was coming from him, but you didn't want to get excited too fast. he hurt your feelings last week, and you weren’t going to let it run past you that easily just because he came to you pleading with flowers. You could, and hell you definitely wanted to, but you were stronger than that.

something about anton made you so weak. normally a strong stubborn person, melting and giving in to whatever he says. You don't know how he could have this effect on you, no one else is able to make you putty in their hands the way anton does. but you can't let him know that. not now, at least.

“i need to apologize for everything. not just for last week, but for putting you into this situation in the first place. when this all started, our moms setting us up like that, i didnt think much of it. but then hanging out with you that day brought back so many memories and i didnt want to stray away from you again. so i lied to my mom, and then i brought up the fake dating idea to you. You probably never knew this, but i’ve had a crush on you since we were in middle school. it went away in junior year when we stopped talking, because you had gotten a boyfriend and i was so upset that you were with someone else. i was too scared to confess to you then, and even now i'm terrified. talking to you again resurfaced all of my old feelings for you and i thought that us being in a fake relationship would bring us closer together. and then i panicked, because i thought you wouldn't like me back. We were getting so close and i was too scared of rejection, i couldn’t tell if you had any feelings for me in that way, so i thought ending it now would stop me from getting hurt” he pauses, and you take in everything he’s saying.

tears that you tried to fight back were falling, you couldn't stop them while you listened to every word the boy beside you said knowing that he was being completely genuine. You could barely look at him, seeing that he looked like he was fighting back tears himself.

“and seeing you at the party, i was planning on talking to you after the party but you looked so pretty i knew i wouldn't be able to stick by your side as a fake boyfriend when all i wanted was to be your real boyfriend. i didn't mean to hurt you, seriously. it nearly killed me when i saw you look at me so heartbroken. i never want to make you upset like that again.“ he was crying too now, and somehow the two of you were no longer on either side of the couch but right in the middle. not touching, but close enough to feel each other's presence. after a minute of calming yourself down, you try to find the right words to say to the boy next to you.

“You’re an idiot, lee anton” is all you could muster up, almost laughing. You sniffle, and you look at anton while he still has his head down. “You’re really an idiot, because how could i not like you back? i’ve never been around a guy as sweet as you, and i might not have seen it a couple years ago but i see it now. Y’know, the other weekend when we were at my moms and you were helping clean up… your parents had told me about your old crush on me. that’s why i was so shaken up, because i was starting to realize my own feelings for you.” he’s finally looking at you now, tears wiped away and an almost smile on his face.

“they told you about that? i wanted to be the one to tell you” his face was a bright red from embarrassment, his parents exposing his past crush on you was not something he would expect from them. And the fact that you weren’t repulsed by his old crush caught him off guard. Of course, you have feelings for him now, but knowing that he liked you when you two were cringey teenagers? You should be laughing at him and calling him crazy.

“ after all the times i friendzoned you during that time? i don't know how you did it. i guess i deserved the rejection last friday as a payback from all the times i shut you down.” humoring the situation was the best thing you could do to ease the tension in the room, and you both chuckle softly at your comment.

he takes your hand into his, shifting his body so hes completely facing you, and you look down at your hands before looking back at his face. he was back to looking serious, with those soft pleading eyes burning into yours.

“y/n, i want you to know that i like you. i like you so much, it physically hurts. i never want to be away from you, and i never want to hurt you. and i want us to be together, for real this time. no bullshit, no rules, no more confusion. You’re the most amazing girl in the world and i can't imagine living a life without you in it. if you’ll let me, can i be your boyfriend?” you want to cry again, this was the cutest confession you’ve ever heard. You take a little bit too long to respond and his mouth is slowly turning into a frown, thinking he's about to be rejected.

“Yes, anton. You can be my boyfriend” you squeeze his hand and now he’s tearing up again. he feels like the happiest person on the planet, finally getting to be with you in the way he wanted. Happy tears stream down your face, and you pull anton into a hug, holding him tightly. He holds you just as tight, breath hitting your neck as he breathes in the scent of your neck.

“We need to go out and celebrate! I wanna take you out, on a real date, and then we can tell everyone that we’re officially together, and-” He had pulled out of your hug so he could list off everything he wanted to do with you, and you had to put your hands on his shoulders to keep him grounded. Even though you love his rambling, his words were coming out quicker than his thoughts and you had to calm him down.

“Woah, let's just hang out tonight? We can go out tomorrow. And we should wait to tell everyone, sky probably still wants to rip your head off and we don't need sohee or anyone else talking” he nods, and he’s still smiling from ear to ear while he looks at you.

“You’re right, i'm just so happy.” he has his hands on your knees now, and his eyes go from where his hands lay, your lips, and your eyes. You trail your eyes to his lips and to his neck, then back at his lips. It was like you both wanted the same thing, but both were too shy to say something. Subconsciously you were slowly closing the gap, his body leaning into yours as well. Noses almost touching, you look into his eyes and give his shoulder a small squeeze to motion him to make a move.

“Can i kiss you?” you can feel the words leaving his lips on your own, and a small desperate please leaves you before the gap is finally closed and his lips are on yours. It was a soft kiss, the both of you getting used to each other. His lips were so soft, and they molded perfectly with yours. You felt his tongue swipe your bottom lip, and you let him into your mouth while you kissed him harder. His hands that were on your knees have moved, one hand resting on your hip while the other made it up your body and cupping the back of your neck to keep you on him. Your hands also snake into his hair, playing with the strands while you two softly make out.

Anton felt like he was in heaven. Kissing you was a dream come true, and it topped anything he could ever imagine. He kissed you softly but full of desperation, like you were going to vanish out of thin air. His grip on your waist got tighter, slightly pulling your body into his and you gasped into his mouth. Pulling away, you look at how dazed anton was. he’s breathing hard, lips swollen and hair disheveled. You didn’t mean to work him up so much from just kissing you, but you can't deny that you weren’t a little worked up yourself. Kissing him was like something you’ve never felt before. A kiss filled with love and desperation was something you haven’t felt before, and it was something you hope you never get used to. You want to kiss him like that every time, all the time.

“Do you want to go to my room?” you breathe out, and he nods his head happily. You stand up, grabbing his hand to bring you to his room.

Your body was heating up, feeling slightly nervous. He’s been in your room before, but as your boyfriend? It was like something in the air shifted. A new tension filled the room once you two stepped inside your room, you closed the door softly before antons hands were on you and pressing your body to the door. You gasp at his sudden control, looking up at him and you see how dark his eyes have gotten. With one hand on your waist and one on the back of your neck, he pulls you in for another kiss. It wasn’t soft like before but still filled with desperation, like he was starved of your lips. Your hands move to his hair and onto his bicep, gripping his arm to hold yourself up while he kisses you eagerly.

He’s strong enough to keep you up himself, but you feel like if you don't hold tightly to him you would melt. The hand on your waist pulls you into him some more, and he’s moving you both from the door to your bed. It was a bit of a struggle getting there, neither of you pulling away to see where you were going. Stumbling on each other's feet, you finally make it to the bed. Only pulling away so he could let you down softly, and you move back to the end of the bed before he’s climbing on top of you. Slotting his own legs between yours, his lips are attaching to your neck and you move your head to the side so he has better access.

You can't ignore the way his thigh is right on your core, not moving but you feel the heat between your legs with how he’s sucking and biting little marks on your neck. His hands rest on your waist under the hoodie you wore, and you lift them just slightly to get a tiny bit of friction going. With every gasp and whimper you let out, it goes through his ears and straight to his dick.

Anton feels you moving, and your own leg that was between his was just right below his growing hard on. He shifts so both his legs are between yours, pressing his core into yours and you let out a moan at the pressure.

You pull at his hair, taking your other hand to run it down his chest and down to his stomach. When your hands stop by his waist,tugging at his shirt indicating that you want it off. “Anton, take your shirt off” you groan out, noticing how he’s too lost in you to notice.

He quickly pulls away, lips and hands leaving your body. You almost felt cold, not having his body heat on you for those quick seconds. He’s sitting up so he can remove his shirt and you stare him down intently as you watch his muscles flex. Biting your lip, you run your hand down his bare chest, taking in the body above you.

“Can i take this off you?” he’s tugging on your hoodie now, and you nod before he helps you sit up slightly to remove the clothing off you before laying you back down. He gasps when he realizes you didn’t have a bra on this whole time, and he instantly attaches his hands to your breasts and gives them a squeeze. You would think this was his first time seeing a woman naked the way he gawks at you, but he’s just so in awe of how beautiful you were.

Leaning back down, his lips are back on yours. It's hot and messy, you can barely breathe the way he touches you. His kisses are trailing back down to your neck, and then his lips find your nipple. You whimper feeling his tongue flick the sensitive bud, one hand tweaking the other. His other hand makes its way down to the hem of your shorts, slightly dipping into your shorts but not enough. Like he was waiting for you to tell him what to do, he left his fingers right there even if you rutted your hips into his hand as a way to get him to touch you. He still wasn't letting up, and you knew that he really wasn't going to touch you unless you told him.

“Anton,” you whine, and he takes his lips off your nipple. His breath on the bud making you shiver, and you whine out again.

“What's wrong, baby?” You couldn’t tell if his voice was laced with fake or genuine concern, and it was killing you. You were probably fully soaked through your panties and shorts, the ache between your thighs getting almost unbearable.

“Want you to touch me” a whine slips past your lips, and you move the hand that was on his chest over where his own rests under the hem of your shorts.

“Yeah?” he teases, finally putting his hand fully down your pants to rub you through your panties. You let out an eager mhm along with a fast nod, his fingers lightly grazing over your clit. You try to lift your hips up, but he takes his free hand to hold your hips down. “Gonna take my time with you, baby”

Moaning at his words, you moan again when his fingers finally slip past your panties and run through your slit. Collecting your arousal on his fingers, and he lets out a soft chuckle. “You’re so wet,”

“Stop teasing, ton. Need you” you swirl your hips around his fingers, trying to get him to use them. He might be putty in your hands outside the bedroom, but it was the complete opposite right now. He likes seeing you like this. Weak under him, begging for some type of release. He finally obliges, his thumb circling your clit softly while he slips two fingers into you. You moan, the ache in your core slowly subsiding.

He sits up so he can see your reactions fully. Your eyes were fluttering shut, mouth open slightly from the pleasure he was giving you. He moved his fingers a bit faster, and adding a bit more pressure onto your clit which made you moan. Your hand that was on his wrist gripped him tightly. He was making you feel so good, and he looked so good while doing it. With your half open eyes, you could see him focused on your cunt. His eyes were glossed over, looking from his hand that was in your pants, your face, your tits, then back to his hand.

He could honestly cum in his pants from the sight. Your breathing was labored and you were clenching on his fingers tighter, and he could tell that you were getting close. You usually last longer, but he made you feel so good it was overwhelming. And with how hot he was, it was hard for you to hold out.

“Cum for me, y/n. Make a mess on my fingers” His words were so vulgar, but his voice was so soft. With a few more harsh circles to your clit, your back was arched off the bed while your orgasm hit you. Nails digging into antons wrist while he continued thrusting his fingers in you to help you ride out your orgasm. Other hand was in the sheets, grabbing onto whatever your fingers could pick up.

When your breathing goes back to normal, anton pulls his fingers out of you and out of your pants, taking them into his mouth. It was so messy, and you moan watching him taste you on his fingers. He hums, pulling his fingers out of his mouth with a pop before running his hands down your thighs.

“You okay?” for a quick minute the soft boyfriend you knew was back, checking to make sure you were okay and if you wanted to continue. You give him a weak nod, eyes struggling to stay open. Your hands are pulling at the hem of his pants now, and he’s stepping off the bed to rid himself of the last of his clothing.

Through your half hazy gaze, you watch him taking off his pants along with his boxers. Your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets when you see his cock spring out of his pants. Holy shit, he was big. You knew he would be because he was just so big everywhere else, but it still took you by surprise. He gets back on the bed, settling between your legs once again.

“How do you want me?” you ask him sweetly, and he bites his lip at the question. He hadn’t thought about it, and now he was thinking of all the possibilities of how he could fuck you right now. He placed his hands on your legs, lifting them so they could wrap around his waist.

“Just stay like this,” he leans down so he's a bit closer to your face, but not close enough for you to kiss him. His lips were slightly parted and his breathing was heavy, and you wanted to kiss him so badly. He almost seems nervous. Which would be insane with the way he made you cum just a few minutes ago. You grab him by the back of his neck to pull him to your lips, and you can feel the way he softens in your hold.

Your other hand snakes its way between the two of you, grabbing onto his cock softly. He tenses up again, a choked moan comes out before he can process the noises coming out of him. You stroke him slowly while he struggles to kiss you back, and you bite his lip as you pull away.

“Need you now, toni” you whisper on his lips, and you look into his eyes before he’s sitting up once again. He groans while he pumps himself a few more times, and then he’s pressing his tip into you.

The both of you let out a moan while he’s pushing himself into you, and you bring both arms up to wrap around his forearms. It takes a minute before he's fully sheathed into you, and when he is you feel so full.

“let me know if it's too much, okay?” His hands grip your waist, and all you nod in response.

“Dont worry. I can take it.” you say confidently and he gives you a sly look before he pulls out almost completely, and then thrusts back in with a slow but deep thrust. He hisses, your pussy clenching around him so tightly. One of his hands moves from your waist up your chest, stopping at your breasts to play with one of your nipples while he finds his rhythm inside of you. The stimulation in both areas makes you cry out, your grip on antons arm getting impossibly tighter.

He was still processing the fact that you were under him. It was an unreal situation. Never did he think he’d be able to get the girl he’s always wanted. never did he think he would be in her room. Never did he think he would be having sex with her.

His pace picks up, your body jerking forward with each thrust. You could barely keep your eyes open, but the view in front of you was too good to miss. The way the muscles in his arms flexed when he drove his hips into yours, and you could see how his stomach contracted with each thrust. His eyes were focused on where the two of you connected while you stared at him, and your moans got increasingly louder with every touch and with every thrust.

You bring a hand down to your clit, drawing circles on the sensitive area while he fucked you. He was moaning louder now, soft whimpers leaving him every time you clenched around him.

“You’re so tight, baby” he’s leaning over you now, moving your hand from your clit and pinning it to your side. He swiftly takes his other hand and places his own fingers on your clit, and you nearly scream, the amount of pressure and speed he adds has your eyes rolling back.

He couldn’t get enough of you. If he put his hands somewhere, it would only be for a few seconds before he was moving them to a different part of your body. The hand he used to pin you down was now grabbing onto your thigh, hiking your leg up so he could put it over his shoulder.

The new angle had his cock hitting a spot deep inside you that you didn’t know existed, and you bite your lip to stop another scream from coming out. His other hand was still in between your bodies, rubbing your clit with a swiftness. Your hand goes to his chest, subconsciously pushing him from the stimulation.

“thought you could take it, baby. need me to slow down?” He teases, and his thrusts falter just enough for you to feel it and beg for more. Fingers still on your clit, pushing hard on the bud but not moving them. You could barely think of words to say, but the loss of stimulation was helping you gain consciousness.

“n-no! feelsso good… gna cum” tears swelling up in your eyes, you slur your words trying to tell him that he could keep going. you were so close, and you didn't want his teasing to rip the feeling of your orgasm bubbling going away, so you hoped he would continue the pace and send you over the edge soon.

pushing you into the mattress, he thrusts hard and the tears that glossed over your eyes were now falling down, the pleasure was so overwhelming. with the way he was pressing into you, the way he looked into your eyes with each thrust and you struggled to keep them open, the way his fingers expertly handled your clit while his lips hovered over yours, and the sweet words on how good you felt while you could only whine and babble incoherent words, you were so close to hitting your peak.

“cum for me baby, i got you” and with that your body almost caves in on itself, your orgasm hitting you like a truck. your legs were shaking and your back would have arched completely off the bed if it weren't for anton above you, still fucking you sensless to help you ride it out. a choked sob leaves your lips, too breathless to let out any moans. it quickly became overstimulating, pushing at whatever body parts your hands could reach. He wasn’t letting up though, chasing his own high now and was lost in the feeling of your pussy squeezing him deliciously.

“toni, s’too much! too much,” you whine, and the boy removes his fingers off your clit to lift himself up. he brings your leg down from his shoulder, and keeps it around his waist with your other leg. he’s still fucking you, and its still a lot but without the abuse to your clit you could tolerate the feeling of his cock fucking into you some more until he cums. His eyes were shut now leaning back down to bury his face into your neck. your hands wrap around him, running your fingers through his hair and leaving gentle tugs which elicit loud moans out of him

“tell me where to cum, baby. where do you want it?” his voice is rushed, and you know you’d have to think fast because he was a ticking time bomb.

“wherever you want toni,” your hands leave his hair so you could move him from your neck and cup his face, giving him a loving look before pulling him into a heated kiss, teeth clashing and lip biting. you slip your tongue into his mouth, swirling around with his while you two moan into each other. with a few sharp thrusts, he’s cumming inside of you. his hips still for a moment, your pussy milking his cock of every last drop of cum. he lets out a weak whimper, body feeling weak as he fucks his cum into you.

you moan, body feeling warm from his body heat along with the fullness of his cock and his cum inside of you. the both of you let out small groans when he’s pulling out, his body still on top of yours. he gives you a soft kiss to your forehead, and you give him a weak smile.

“did so well for me baby. was it okay?” his soft persona was back in full effect now, sitting up so he could help you get cleaned up.

“more than okay, anton”

he gives you a quick kiss before he’s hopping off the bed and finding his clothes on the floor. he puts his boxers on and his pants, then leaves your room quietly to go to the kitchen. When he turns the corner, he’s met with sky. she has headphones in so she doesn't notice him at first, but once she feels his presence she nearly jumps. then her startled face turns into disgust.

“you two are fucking nasty. when i told you to fix things between you two, i didn't mean come here and break the sound barrier.” she rolls her eyes, going back to fixing herself a snack.

“sorry,” an awkward chuckle leaves anton, and he quickly grabs a water out of the refrigerator and leaves the kitchen, slightly embarrassed by the confrontation. he makes his way back down the hall to go to your bathroom, and he rinses his face with cold water, still warm from your little activity just a few minutes ago. he runs one of your washcloths under warm water, and then he’s back in your room to clean you up. sitting down in front of you, he wipes you up in the places you were most sweaty, and then wiping your thighs and carefully wiping up the cum that was dripping out of you. you were still sensitive, wincing at the contact. he helps you sit up, and you run a hand through his hair. you reach over the edge of the bed to grab your hoodie off the floor, slipping it back on. suddenly feeling a little too bare in front of anton since he at least had on a pair of pants.

You admire the boy in front of you. He was the same, but different to you now. a sweet, beautiful boy, who was now all yours. a sweet boy who just fucked you to oblivion. a beautiful boy, who could put up with your attitude. who was weak for you, who would do anything for you. it makes you smile, the most perfect boy liked you and only you. and he was there your whole life, you two just had to figure it out on your own.

“i ran into sky in the kitchen,” his voice was low as he handed you the water he brought, and your eyes widened in shock that your friend was home. you didn’t think she would be home by this time, usually staying out until nighttime at the library before she came home.

“oh god, i didn't know she would be home this early. we’re never going to hear the end of this.” you whine, head in your hands. anton laughs, finding your reaction adorable. as embarrassing as it was to have someone hear you from the outside of your bedroom, he didn't have that much shame. the fact that you were loud enough to disturb the peace in the other room filled him with pride.

“she’ll be okay. this won't be the last time she hears anything come out of this room anyways” he gives you a cheeky grin, and you scoff before slapping his shoulder. who would have thought he would be so dirty?

“don't say that!! we’re gonna have to keep quiet if she’s home,”

“we’ll see about that. you talk a big game but you crumbled the second i put it in” he’s still grinning at you, saying it with such pride and you slap his arm again, face heating up at his words. now you have two things that you’ll never be able to live down.

“you’re sick, lee anton” you whine, and he just laughs before pulling you into a bear hug and laying the two of you onto the pillows. you two get comfortable fast, your back resting against his chest while his arms rest over your body after he pulls the covers over you two

“you like it though” he nuzzles into your neck, spooning you and rubbing soft circles on your stomach under your hoodie.

“maybe just a little”

while spending the rest of the night cuddling, you think that both of your moms were right about setting you two up. you’re suddenly grateful about that surprise ‘blind’ date, and that your mom was right about giving him a chance. laying with him just felt right. and you hope that you can lay with him forever.

A/N: let me know what you guys think !! i kind of half assed the editing, so i apologize if there's any errors + i know the capitalization is a little wacky throughout the fic. i hope you guys enjoyed this fic as much as i enjoyed writing it :)

💋 nav

#anton riize #riize smut #riize x reader #anton imagines #anton smut #anton x reader #riize anton #riize imagines #riize fanfic #riize fluff #lee anton #anton fluff #lee anton x reader #lee anton smut #lee anton fluff #lee anton imagines #toniiswrld #riize

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pirateprincessblog · 2 months

Text

in vino veritas

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: hongjoong loves art, wine, and pretty girls. how convenient that on the opening night of his art gallery, as he sips his red wine, his eyes land on you. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dilf!hongjoong x fem!reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.1k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: dilf!hongjoong, bratty!reader, artist!hongjoong 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: voyeurism, oral (m receiving), toys, gagging, hint of ddlg

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: divorced parent child, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex, swearing 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: i always write the reader as inexperienced or innocent, this time i'm trying a different approach hehe hopefully it works!

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒔,

𝒊 𝒂𝒎 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒊𝒏𝒗𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐 𝒄𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒈𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒅𝒂𝒚, 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒆𝒖𝒎 𝒊𝒏 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔. 𝒏𝒐 𝒈𝒊𝒇𝒕𝒔 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅𝒆𝒅, 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒊𝒕𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒊𝒔 𝒆𝒏𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉. 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒅𝒐 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒍𝒖𝒔 𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒓.

𝒌𝒊𝒎 𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒋𝒐𝒐𝒏𝒈.

it is a challenge to find an outfit appropriate for the evening. you do not wish to go, not since your mother has made it clear she is going only for mr kim. your father, as his best friend since childhood, would be there, and your mother couldn't pass the opportunity to continue her game of jealousy since their separation.

"bold of you to assume that mr kim will even lay his eyes on you." you comment, passing by her room and glancing at her outfit choice. a red dress shorter than her knees with a low neckline. a classic. funnily enough, she used the very same dress to separate your father's then girlfriend from him and took him for herself. she is your mother, but you don't close your eyes at her mistakes. "besides, you're not twenty anymore. that dress doesn't look flattering at all. it's not age appropriate."

"god, just like your father. insults, insults-"

"oh, so when i kiss your ass i am like you, but when i disagree with you, i am like my father? how lovely."

"go to your room and get dressed."

"why do i have to go? you're the one who's trying to get dicked down toni-"

"go to your room!"

defeated, you groan and slam your door shut, then throw yourself on the bed. even with your head buried under your pillows, you still hear her obnoxious voice.

"and don't talk back to me! you've become very rude, and i will not have you embarrass me in front of our friends there! especially not in front of hongjoong."

you don't remember mr kim. you only know that he had a wife, that she also cheated, much like your mother, and since then he only travels and creates art wherever he goes. ever since you got the invitation, you've been trying to find out how he looks now. but all he posts on his social media is the destinations he's visiting, food and sneak peeks of his art. not even a glimpse of him in any picture. come to think of it, your mother's standards are pretty high. your father had your school friends coming over to your house just for him, you can only imagine what mr kim looks like.

deciding on a simple short sweater dress and knee high boots, you put your coat on and head into the autumn evening. your mother trails behind, having difficulties with walking in such high heels. you don't wait, still angry about her plan involving your poor father and an innocent man.

it is only seven in the evening, and something tells you that you'll be here for a very long time. at least midnight. on the bright side, you'll finally see your father. and meet the mystery man behind all the artwork you've been admiring. he doesn't post much of it, but what you've seen, it's pretty damn amazing.

"dad!" you spot him as soon as you enter the crowded space, your father with his recognizable thomas shelby outfit and a glass of whiskey in his hand. you hug him, tight as always, and subconsciously smell him. tobacco, whiskey, and vanilla. home.

"hey, kid." he returns the hug, a little less tight than yours as to not hurt you. "oh you smell great! that the new perfume i got you?"

"oh, i absolutely love it. i bathe in it every day."

"i'm so glad you like it." he gently ruffles your hair, enough to show affection but to not mess it up completely. "now, where's ursula?"

"very mature, calling your ex wife a cartoon villain. what, i put on a few pounds, so what?"

"it's not about the pounds, and you know it."

you turn your head away from your mother, hiding the laugh that is threatening to escape. but she catches the way your father winks your way, and claps her hands, causing a few heads to turn.

"a father and daughter teaming up on her mother. lovely. if you love him more than me, why don't you go live with him?"

you finally look at her, one eyebrow raised in disbelief. "you threatened to hurt yourself if you saw me exit the house with a suitcase. you guilt tripped me, called yourself an awful mother and whatnot. what are you on about?"

defeated, she tries to push the glass of whiskey out of your father's hand, and when failing to do so, she groans and stomps down the gallery hall. and yet she calls you two mature sarcastically.

"i truly hope she finds someone crazy enough to handle her, just so you can finally move out and have a life of your own. is she giving you a hard time?"

"i can handle her. usual guilt tripping and nagging, nothing new. how was your trip?"

your father happily tells you all about his recent trip to spain and france, which was mr kim hongjoong's gift to him for birthday. he went on and on about all the food he tried, all the buildings and art he saw, and how fun and informed about everything mr kim was.

"he knew so much that i was ashamed to be walking with him sometimes. i didn't know the difference between baroque and rococo. hell, i didn't know what rococo even was. i'm definitely taking you to see la sagrada familia on my next week off."

"sounds great, dad."

"listen, i'm gonna go find the restroom, too much whiskey," he whispers, "you feel free to walk around and watch. if you see something you like, i'll ask hongjoong for the price and i'll get it for you."

you look at him with a scoff, but when you see that he is dead serious, you raise your eyebrows. "what? you'd buy an art piece worth thousands of pounds?"

"family discount," he winks at you once again, then disappears into the crowd.

"a drink, madam?" someone says next to you.

your eyes land on the tray with glasses of red and sparkling wine, the person holding it dressed in a simple white dress shirt and black slacks, hair slicked back and white gloves on his hands.

"no thanks, i don't drink."

he nods understandingly, then continues his journey towards the arriving guests. you were never one to buy art. well, you weren't exactly one to be really into it. you see a picture, a sculpture or something similar, you think it's neat. do you go out of your way to find out the artist, or search for more? not quite. but walking down the waxed floor under the rich chandeliers and looking at the massive paintings, you might get into it. finally, something that is not minimalism or some picasso-wannabe shit. stunning golden frames, detailed paintings, and harmony of colours on canvas. all of it put together so perfectly, as if it was brought back from the times of renaissance and not painted in an atelier just outside of town earlier this year.

"drink?"

"i said no already, thanks." you reply, not bothering to look at the person.

"just a sip? to loosen up. you look rather stiff."

you turn your head towards the voice, confused as to why the waiter is persistent. but next to you stands a well dressed man, two glasses of red wine in his hands. he wears black slacks, a tight black turtleneck, and a long black coat. his eyes are pools of honey under the yellow chandeliers, and his hair shiny streaks of gold. he looks breath taking, and you almost thank your mother for dragging you here.

he holds the wine glass for you to take, and you do so. he raises his own towards you, then takes a sip of it, not once breaking eye contact with you. you bring yours to your lips, and the alcohol barely touches them before you move it away. you were never a fan of alcoholic drinks. they tasted awful, and brought out the worst in you. you don't want to embarrass your father tonight. or yourself in front of this gorgeous looking man.

"you've spent quite some time looking at this. admiring the work or surprised at the nudity?"

you scoff, looking at the painting again. gradually going down the hall, the art becomes less art and more erotica. how disappointing. "not admiring, that's for sure."

"oh? how so?" he asks, intrigued.

"well, for starters, very unrealistic. such big breasts and such a tiny waist? has that hongjoong ever seen a woman in his life?"

he laughs along with you, taking another sip of his wine. "i heard he paints with live models, so i'm guessing that this woman really exists somewhere."

"alright, i'll let you have that one. what about this? very inaccurate." you walk over to the next painting, pointing out all the things you were dissatisfied with.

"even an art critic isn't this harsh. it's just art, at the end of the day. an artist's way of escaping and creating his own world to get lost in. nothing wrong with that, right? writers and readers have books, gamers have games, chefs have cooking and baking, and artists have art."

"well, if the artist is an old pervert and all his inspiration comes from naked women, then sure. nothing wrong with that."

after a few moments of silence, you look over at him. he stares at the painting, puzzled. you clear your throat, sensing the awkward air enveloping you both. "i would love to continue this conversation, but if i stay i will only become meaner and accidentally insult you, and i certainly wouldn't want that. i'm passionate when it comes to me being right and proving others wrong."

you give him the glass of wine back with a sour grin, and he returns a scoff of disbelief. "charming."

"wasn't trying to be."

and with that, you leave him standing with two glasses of wine again, just like he approached you. you visit the restroom too, taking a look at yourself in the mirror. all the women are gorgeous tonight, wearing classy dresses and heels, and suddenly you feel underdressed.

"oh my god, your boots are so cool!" as if she heard your overthinking, the girl behind you exclaims. "where did you get them?"

"uh, i think it was a sale at zara. very uncomfortable though, i don't recommend." you reply with a laugh.

"that's okay, they look so pretty it's worth it. anyways, love your makeup." then, she exits the restroom.

you look at your boots, plain black with a chunky heel and over the knees. nothing special about them. still, you appreciate the compliment.

it doesn't take long for you to find your father again, this time in front of a sculpture of, again, a half naked woman. how odd.

"there you are! found anything?"

"no," you reply dryly, and refrain yourself from nasty comments because of his friends.

"well, that's a shame. hongjoong, this is my daughter i've been telling you about."

your heart drops when you hear his name, and then drops a little lower when your eyes lock with the familiar brown ones you just abandoned further down the hall.

"oh, i've had the pleasure," he responds, not looking surprised like you. "an informed young woman, for sure."

so much for embarrassing yourself. if he is offended, he doesn't show it. he only extends his hand as a formal greeting, and when you offer him yours to shake, he turns it over and kisses the top of it. you are baffled, unable to do or say anything. you look over at your father, who doesn't blink an eye to the unusual situation you've found yourself in. mr kim releases your hand, but not before holding eye contact with you just a few seconds longer.

"ah, right, hongjoong is a gentleman. also, if you didn't already notice, he loves women. not like that, of course. they're just-"

"they are my biggest muse. this world's biggest and prettiest treasure."

"charming," you repeat his word from earlier.

he smirks, teasingly. you want to slap the smirk off his face. he adjusts the sleeves of his turtleneck, rolling them up to his elbows and showing off his forearms. it is only then that you notice he isn't wearing the coat anymore, and you have the freedom of shamelessly staring at his body. his forearms are big, painted with bulging veins. the turtleneck hugs his waist and chest perfectly, to the point of slightly showing the outline of his abs. he isn't bulky, but built like a greek statue. he holds himself so elegantly, not bothered what anyone has to say about his work. it's a shame, because you still have a lot to say, regardless of how hot and bothered you are for him at the moment.

"ah, let me just clarify something. in case someone thinks that i'm just an old pervert..." he discreetly glances at you, making your jaw drop slightly, "...all these women have come to me and asked to be painted or sculpted. i have never once asked a woman to undress for me, nor did i sexualize her when she did so herself. i see art, not porn material."

your father seems offended that someone could have made such an assumption. little did he know that the culprit was the young woman right next to him, hiding behind his glass of wine.

"say, hongjoong, how does that work? do i have to send you an e-mail? or just show up at your door?"

if you thought that the situation couldn't get more awkward, your mother decided to prove you wrong.

"mom!" you scold, pink spreading on your cheeks as you look at the people surrounding you.

"what? why wouldn't i want to be painted by such a handsome-"

"unfortunately, at the moment i do not take any commissions. the gallery is my priority."

and just like that, mr kim shuts her down. he spares her no glance, in respect towards your father, or simply because he is disgusted by such an idea and behaviour. he is not stupid, that you notice. he seems to know the difference when someone genuinely wants to be painted, and when someone tries to take advantage of the situation and expects something from him.

as the night goes, you notice that kim hongjoong isn't old like you called him. he is your father's age, sure, but he aged like fine wine. it takes a lot of staring and concentration to notice a few gray strands of hair cleverly hidden among the golden brown ones. you notice that he doesn't talk much. he lets the people around him talk, and only engages when they have a question about a work of his.

you also notice his hands. his fingers, specifically. you can't help but imagine his fingers dipped in clay, shaping it the way his mind intended, his focused gaze and messy hair. you wish to see him at work, at least once in your life. just to satisfy your imagination. because to make a move with a man of that age is just absurd, and disrespectful towards your father. and himself. he just said that he doesn't do it for sexual purposes, and you were almost offering him the same thing as your mother.

awful.

you glance at him one more time, and when you find him already staring at you with an intense gaze, you take it as your cue to leave. a look of hatred, curiosity or lust, you didn't know. you only knew that you felt nervous under his stare, sweat emerging on your skin and stomach turning from fear that he read your mind and caught you thinking about him inappropriately.

"it's a bit late, i'll excuse myself."

"oh, already?" your father asks, planting a kiss on your temple. "i suppose it is quite late. do you need me to walk you back home?"

"no, that's fine. you guys have fun though. oh, mr kim."

mr kim looks at you, surprised that you're addressing him after all night of avoiding his gaze. "yes?"

"wonderful works, truly. thank you for the invite." it's the least you can do after shamelessly shitting on his work in front of him.

"why, thank you. i appreciate it, especially coming from my best friend's daughter. let me walk you to the door."

and you don't get a say in it. your father practically pushes you into his best friend, who skillfully grabs your waist and restores your balance. your breathing seems to stop the few seconds he holds you, grip secure and manly on your body. when he releases you, it feels empty. you wish to be held again, manhandled, thrown around, anything by him.

"listen, i'm sorry for what i said." you say, walking towards the door and keeping up with him.

"mhm," he hums, as if it's not a big deal.

"no, really, i just..."

"it's fine." he says, holding your coat in the air for you.

"i sometimes speak before i think," you put one arm in the sleeve, "and i end up hurting someone or embarrassing myself."

"it's really fine." he says, tone calm and low. he helps your other arm in the sleeve, then, as if he knew your newfound weak spot, he places his hands on your waist and turns you towards him. only now, you are so determined to apologize to him that you don't even notice what he is doing.

"in this case, i did both. mr kim, please, accept my apology." he adjusts the collar of the coat, then buttons it up.

"i told you, it's fine." he is persistent.

you are a babbling mess, trying to correct the image of yourself he has created in his head, which couldn't possibly be good. after all, mr kim hongjoong is way too hot to have a bad opinion about you. you continue speaking, and he continues adjusting your clothes. it is not until he firmly grabs your jaw in his big warm hand that you shut your mouth. you look at him, almost startled, and gulp.

"i appreciate honest opinion. you are the only one who didn't kiss my ass tonight, and i appreciate it more than all the compliments i've gotten. so trust me when i say that it is fine. don't ever apologize for your opinions, you're not that kind of girl."

"what kind of girl do you think i am?"

he smirks, then rubs your cheek with his thumb as he brings your face closer to his. "not a good one, that's for sure."

the words shoot arrows to your core, and you suddenly feel hotter than the hottest summer day. you exhale shakily, not knowing what to do with yourself. he looks satisfied with the reaction you gave him, and decides to finally stop teasing.

"watch the road when crossing." he sends you a playful wink, then opens the door for you.

"thank you," you manage to say, and only nod his way before making your way down the street into the chilly autumn night.

the more time you spend with your father, the more you keep hearing about the artist who won't leave your mind anyway. from his stories, mr kim has been spoiling him rotten. no wonder he isn't home anymore. sitting on your father's porch on his swinging chair and taking in the last rays of sunshine before the harsh winter, you can't help but ask about the mystery man.

"how come he's your childhood best friend but i've only met him that evening?"

"well, you were young. you didn't pay any attention to things that aren't crushes, school and gossip."

"wow."

"it's true. you were just a kid, then a teen. and hongjoong wasn't around much during the day. then, he met ramona and moved with her to a different town. and then, while he was trying to save money and start a family, she was jumping on someone else on the bed that he bought with the last savings. they separated, and hongjoong started travelling just so he could be away from the town. he said everything reminds him of the night he found them. and i accompany him, which is really hard for me as you can see."

"oh, you're living a very hard life at the moment, dad. jokes aside, that sucks for him. do i know her?"

your father scrunches his eyebrows, as if he doesn't want to remember the woman. "she's still around. she was at the gallery, that whore."

it surprises you to hear him say such harsh words. he is usually semi-polite with his speech. mr kim must've really gone through something when even your father reacts like this.

"really? why would she come? did she have the invitation?"

"no, of course not. this isn't a big town, words spread faster than anything. she came with her boytoy to make fun of him, but got shat on when she saw how successful he has gotten. she just looked at me, tried to push the statue like a fucking idiot, then left angrily. i don't know what goes on in that woman's mind."

you scoff, then feel relieved that there was a bigger fool than you there. "how did he become an artist?"

"you can ask him that yourself. he doesn't bite, you know."

you take a sip of the peach tea, then set it aside quickly. still scorching. "why would you say that? i'm not scared of him or anything."

"you were running away from him yesterday. i didn't want to ask because i didn't want to make you uncomfortable, but it was a little disrespectful towards him. he was hurt."

"did he tell you that?" you raise an eyebrow.

"no...?"

"he'll live." you simply say, then grab your phone.

you type his name in the social app again, hoping to see a new post. and there it is, a brand new post, just twenty seconds ago. simple pictures from that night, the group posing in front of the museum, then in front of various photos. then, random shots of food, drinks, and finally, you.

you, staring at the photo that you loved the most in the hall, taken from the profile. it looks like something that jumped out of pinterest, and not something that he secretly snapped before approaching you. the photo is so good that you might even post it yourself.

art admiring art, the caption says. you're surely reading too much into it. he doesn't mean it about you. there's multiple people in the photos, for god's sake. but no, your delusional self loves to make an appearance, and thus the filthy thoughts of kim hongjoong resurface again. you've been trying to push it down, especially in front of your father, but one night of insomnia, a fresh image of kim hongjoong in a tight turtle neck grabbing your face, and a hand down your sleepwear, you've fallen into the void.

now, you can't escape it. you fantasize about him, day and night, stalk his accounts, even take the longer route to work just to pass by the museum in hopes of catching a glance of him. but all you've gotten is sore feet and more sexual frustration. nothing helps anymore, not a single toy that you have once neatly packed under the bed and were collecting dust up until recently. so when your father asks you to drop some things over at the atelier, you are happy to do it.

when you hear the word atelier, you expect a cozy little room in an old building with wooden furniture and with the smell of paint. but you forget that kim hongjoong is filthy rich. the address your father has given you takes you to a whole wooden cabin just outside of town, surrounded by a light forest. you gulp, realizing what situation you are in.

you are about to be alone with the most gorgeous man you've ever seen in your life. you are about to walk into his personal space. and you have to keep your thoughts collected, just in case he is a good people reader. and you somehow feel like he is. you are wet just standing outside, holding the bag of items your father has sent him and shamelessly thinking about all possible ways he would fu-

"oh, hi. i thought i saw someone standing there. please, do come in." mr kim calls from the door, wiping his hands with a cloth. you see stains of paint all over them, and paired with his bulging veins, you realize that you aren't the strongest soldier today and that you have to run home to a certain device as soon as possible.

"good evening, sir. i actually just came to drop this off, per my father's request." you hold out the bag for him to take.

he looks at you with a raised eyebrow, still standing at the door. "you can approach, the cabin doesn't bite."

you exhale, trying to calm your heart beat. it feels like it's going to jump out and plunge straight into his face. you finally make your way towards him, trying to avoid his gaze. you don't know if he does it on purpose, but it is so intense that it feels like even your hair is sweating. he is looking you up and down as you approach, bottom lip trapped between his teeth. he takes the bag from your hand, seeing that you don't plan on speaking yet.

"and i don't bite either." he smirks, then goes back inside the cabin.

"i wish you did," you mumble, then follow after him.

the place smells like paint, just how you imagined. and it is much cozier than it looks outside. you finally get a good look at him, now that his attention is on the contents of the bag. he wears a halfway unbuttoned white dress shirt, almost see through, black slacks, and has messy hair. as if he read your thoughts, he runs his fingers through it, taming the golden strands and showing off his finely aged face.

"a drink?" he asks, hand reaching for the wine bottle that sits on the table among the brushes. "ah, right. i forgot."

he pours himself a glass instead. you bite the inside of your cheek. you hate it, you really do. but for him? no, you're not like that. not with your father's friend, god no.

"this one is actually very sweet. it doesn't have that much alcohol in it. want a sip?"

he holds his own glass for you to try. under the warm yellow lights, you see the outline of his lips on the edge of the glass. you feel ashamed that you do take the glass, and press the lips on the same outline. it takes every ounce in you not to jump into his arms and make out with him like there's no tomorrow. but you manage, only taking a sip of the dark liquid before returning the glass to him. you keep the liquid inside your mouth, afraid to let it pour down your throat. you are not ready for the stinging and bitter aftertaste. but the longer you hold it, the more you look like a squirrel with puffy cheeks and your eyes tear up.

mr kim notices, and chuckles. not mockingly, but maybe a bit fondly. he approaches you, taking your jaw into his hand again. you notice the dried paint on his fingers, and his rolled up sleeves again. his eyes look into yours, and if he wasn't holding your head up so you can look at him, you would surely turn around and leave. it is too much, yet you don't have many options at the moment. to look away, or to maintain the eye contact. he seems to be into it, and so you give it to him. you are starting to be into it too.

his thumb rubs your cheek, much like that night. his eyes roam your face, as if he is memorizing every single detail on it. he licks his lips, and his gaze softens. "swallow for me."

in the dead silence, you can almost hear your sanity shatter. you do as he tells you, with no thoughts in your brain. the liquid stings your throat, but the growing lust inside of you overshadows it. you subconsciously lick your lips, mimicking him. he smiles to himself, noticing it.

"good girl."

what you didn't expect is for him to turn around and sit on the wooden stool, rolling his sleeves further up and getting back to his painting. you stand in the middle of the room, red faced, warm and with drenched panties, shocked at his behaviour. does he do this with his models too? gets flirty, then continues his work like nothing happened? is that how he gets such erotic paintings?

"you can sit on the couch if you want, i'll be done soon. i can drive you back."

you sit on the couch, immediately sinking into it. "how did you know i didn't drive here?"

"you always walk," he simply replies, his back still turned towards you and his hands working on the canvas, "i see you every day when you pass by the museum."

oh.

"what do you say? think you can manage with me for half an hour in here? i heard you don't like me much."

your cheeks are redder than ever, lust combined with embarrassment bringing out the worst in you. "i apologized."

you hear him chuckle. "i know. no harm in a little teasing."

minutes feel like hours as you sit upside down on the comfy green couch, legs resting over the backrest and head hanging from the couch above the carpet. he doesn't pay you much attention, but all of your attention is on him. you watch as his back muscles move when he reaches for a certain paint or brush on the high shelves, as his fingers run through his hair to get it out of his face, as his hand rubs the paint into the canvas. you feel a sensation on your clit, seeing his finger rub the paint in such an erotic way that you think it's not a coincidence.

you breathe out, trying to calm yourself again. you could leave, yes. but you don't want to. you're fine. you'll live. you distract yourself with snooping around his drawers next to the couch. you find a clean set of brushes, unused paint, and packages of clay. you play with the brushes, tapping them like drumsticks, then acting out spells from harry potter, and whatnot. until you decide to dim that little spark of dignity you had left.

you glance at hongjoong again, who still sits on the stool and has made progress on the painting. you flip your skirt over, and move your panties aside. using the soft part of the brush, you glide it over your clit, and shudder at the feeling. he stops for a moment, and you hurriedly put the skirt back in place. he doesn't spare you a glance, but simply takes a sip of wine. when he returns to his work, you also return to yours.

your hand reaches for one of the pillows, and gets trapped under your teeth as your other hand continues teasing you with the soft brush. you bite into the poor pillow, tug it and arch your back, all while pleasuring yourself with kim hongjoong's brushes, on his couch, right behind his back. you go painfully slow, as to not make too much noise. you're driving yourself crazy, and you can't help but imagine what wonders he could do to you if he just turned around.

so close to reaching the release, you close your eyes, and throw your head back further, still in the upside down position. the brush works faster, the soft bristles gently but fast brushing against your swollen clit, caressing your nerves just right. so damn close, just a tad bit more, and-

"put that down."

like frost, his voice makes all the heat and lust disappear from your body. you sit still, eyes still closed, hoping that he will just disappear if you do so. that you will get yourself out of the awkward situation.

"i said..." you hear footsteps, and before you can actually listen to him, he grabs you by your jaw again, forcing you to look at him, "...put. that. down."

his eyes are stone cold, eyebrows furrowed. you gulp, feeling so small and miserable under his gaze.

"now."

your hand drops the brush on the couch, then fixes the skirt. you try to sit up straight, but hongjoong's grip on your face is strong. you stay still, waiting for the scolding to begin. you're terrified, you want to disappear. you want to drown in that bucket of paint that sits next to his stool, and never resurface again.

"what the hell do i do with you? first you hate me, then you like me, then you avoid me. now, you ride my painting brushes? how am i supposed to approach this?"

you don't try to speak. you don't trust yourself with words. you can only sound pathetic, begging for forgiveness again. so you decide to keep your mouth shut and let him be disappointed in you. he breaks eye-contact with you, only to have a sip of his wine which he brought over to the couch. he keeps it in his hand, eyes locked on you again. his thumb caresses your bottom lip, while his eyes roam the state of your body. your chest still rises and falls quickly, coming down from an orgasm denial. flushed cheeks, sweaty forehead with hair sticking to it, almost drool covered pillow with bite marks, and your arousal on his brushes and couch.

hongjoong breathes out his nose, a glint visible in his eyes.

"open up." he says, voice raspy and eyes softened.

you do as he says, opening your mouth until his thumb can comfortably sit in it. he massages your tongue, circling it and playing with it. he takes another sip of the dark liquid, then looks at you with that glint again. he removes his thumb, only to bring his head closer and pour the liquid from his mouth into yours. you swallow it without hesitation, too mesmerized and aroused by the situation. never in your life did you think that drinking from someone else's mouth was going to make you almost orgasm.

"good girl," he praises, voice barely a whisper in the silent cabin.

he downs the rest of it, then throws it on the floor aside. the glass cracking makes you twitch, but he is quick to hush you and caress your cheek.

"s-sir-" you finally speak, not even sure what you want to say.

"yes?" the man replies.

"i- i should-" you stutter, trying to come up with anything that will get you out of there, "i should go."

hongjoong raises an eyebrow, believing your words as much as you believe them. his hands fumble with the zipper of his slacks. then, he takes the pillow you had just used and gently puts it under your head.

"comfy?"

"yes...?" you say, confused.

"good."

through the opening of his pants, he pulls himself out, wasting no time in giving it a few slow strokes. your mouth waters at the sight, even if it is upside down. his hard, thick cock leaks above your head, ready to be licked clean.

"open up for me, princess."

you shudder at the nickname, and at the way he gently holds your head so that it is aligned with his cock. you open your mouth once again, slightly sticking your tongue out for him. the man presses the tip against your lips, coating them in pre-cum before pushing past them. he grunts, placing both of his hands on your cheeks to hold your head still. the warm muscle glides against your tongue, kissing the back of your neck. you can't help but imagine how it would glide inside of you, slowly, or fast, gently, or hard. you'll take anything he gives you.

"relax your throat, baby." his voice is raspy and quiet in your ears.

you do as told, trying your best to relax it. as soon as you do, hongjoong seems to lose himself a bit. he slams his hips forwards, the tip of his cock touching the back of your throat and making you gag around him. tears threaten to spill from your eyes, but you don't let them. his hand then reaches over to your skirt, flipping it over and exposing your drenched panties still pulled aside.

his fingers find your entrance without teasing, and he dips his finger in so easily. your walls squelch around him, arousal flooding and coating his digits. due to the position you're in, his rough fingers rub your spongy wall exactly how you need it. you squirm under his touch, feeling overstimulated even though you haven't orgasmed yet. he adds two more fingers, stuffing you almost to the brim. you're full of him, in both holes, and a whiny and squirming mess.

he abuses your mouth, admiring the outline of his cock on your neck.

"rub your pretty clit for me, princess."

hesitantly, your fingers find your swollen clit, rubbing it in circles and guiding yourself closer to an orgasm. hongjoong's fingers are restless in your hole, pumping in and out, making you moan and whine around his cock. the vibrations must feel good for him, because he throws his head back and groans. entirely lost in the pleasure of your tight mouth against him, he can't help but slam his hips harder and faster, and his fingers start matching the rythym.

you try to beg, but all the words are muffled by his equally abused cock.

"what was that, pretty girl?" he looks down at you, pure ecstasy on his face.

"please-" you somehow manage to say it.

"please? do you know what you're begging for?"

you shake your head. you don't, truly. begging for him to speed up? to slow down? to make you orgasm? or not? you have no idea. you just beg him, to give you everything he has to offer.

the moment is shattered when your phone rings, the word dad on the screen making your stomach turn. hongjoong stops, giving you a moment to collect yourself before handing you the phone. he helps you sit up straight, putting a pillow under you so that you are comfortable. you take a deep breath, who knows which one in the row that day. hongjoong caresses your cheek, as if he wasn't deep inside you both ways just seconds ago. charming, he'd say.

"hello?" you answer the phone.

"hey, kid. did you deliver those things to hongjoong?"

"yes, dad."

"great! i was thinking about inviting him for dinner tomorrow. wanna come and help me?"

"sure thing."

"i was thinking steak, with that whiskey sauce you make..."

you are no longer paying attention, because hongjoong is on his knees in front of the couch. he gently spreads your legs, and looks at you with a mischievous look. you shake your head silently, asking him to not do anything. but all falls in water when hongjoong licks a stripe up your slit and you shake under his touch. your legs close reflexively, but the older man is quick to hold your thighs in place as he devours you on his couch. he makes out with your folds, as if he is kissing your real lips. his tongue teases the tip of your clit, spinning it in circles. he sucks it, tugs it and rubs it, all the things that have your fingers grasping his hair and pulling mercilessly.

his fingers find their way inside you again, curling up so that you get maximum pleasure. a whine escapes your lips, and hongjoong stops everything he is doing. you beg him with your eyes not to stop. you can't go home empty handed. but the man only puts his hand over your mouth, and ever so slowly, slides inside of you. you swallow him so easily, arousal leaking all over him and his couch.

"dad, i really have to-" you gasp, feeling his cock brushing against your sweet spot, "i have to go."

"oh? alright then. so, tomorrow?"

hongjoong grabs your waist, not moving his own hips, but instead slamming your body on his cock and bruising your skin with his strong grip. his hair falls over his eyes, loose strands perfectly decorating his face painted with pure pleasure.

"huh? yes, yes! tomorrow. okay, see you!"

you've never ended a call so fast, and you've never thrown your phone so far away.

"don't hold back, darling. let me hear you."

and that's when you let go. you grip his shoulders, moan into his ear, whine, squirm, whatnot. you certainly don't make it easy for him.

"for an old pervert, you sure are having the time of your life." he teases.

you try glaring at him, but you can barely keep your head up. "just fuck me, please."

"you finally know what you're begging for. only you're not asking properly."

"pretty please?"

"no, you can do better."

you think hard, defocusing from the orgasm chasing for a moment. then, it clicks.

"please, daddy."

hongjoong chuckles happily, and snaps his hips harder into you. "that's a good girl."

something about having sex with clothes on drove you crazy, especially since hongjoong was in his natural habitat and clothing. it pushes you over the edge, seeing him brush his hair back and looking at you with such lust. you're shaking harder than ever, clear liquid squirting out of you and all over him and his furniture. you're in shock, trying to reach your breath, while hongjoong still sloppily fucks his cum into you.

he grunts and hums against your lips, not yet kissing you. which you suddenly find very frustrating.

"you should shit on my art more often, eh?"

with a laugh, you try to cover yourself with the blanket. but hongjoong takes it from your hand, then uses it to wipe the liquid off your body. he tosses it aside, then reaches for his own coat to give it to you. hesitantly, you take it. as you put it on, hongjoong examines your face for any traces of regret. when he sees none, he smiles fondly at you, pressing his lips on top of your hand, just like that night.

"you're a very pretty young woman, you know that?"

"thanks," you say awkwardly.

"you wanted to kiss me, i know. but..."

you roll your eyes, acting unphased.

"...i don't think i'm ready yet."

"you just rearranged my guts, and a kiss is a problem for you?"

he laughs, but not because it's funny, but because you are right. he helps you lay down on the couch, then covers you with the spare blanket. "we'll get there, pretty. right now, i want you to take a power nap before i take you home. got it?"

"got it, sir."

"good girl."

810 notes · View notes

thefandomthings · 8 months

Text

𝐒mall 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐇𝐢𝐦

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: The Older Brothers (Separate) x Gn!reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: A little, like smidge suggestive, smidge of possessiveness

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: I apologize if the brothers are Ooc, and for any mistakes

Part 1 Part 2

Do not copy, or repost my work

Lucifer is a busy demon

You never fail to notice the irritation he has when he wakes up and has to make coffee, it takes time off of his schedule for the day.

So, you made a plan to wake up before he did and make him a fresh cup of coffee and go back to bed before he comes into the kitchen

Lucifer was delighted and much happier throughout the day when we wakes up to the strong smell of his coffee

But eventually his curiosity gets the best of him.

Who has been making his coffee for him, and who knows him well enough to make sure there is enough for 3 cups?

He has a strong idea who it is once he realizes you are harder to get up in the morning since the mystery coffee started.

Lucifer decides to catch you in the act, to answer his suspicions and thank you

The Devildom is still dark, clouds blocking out any sunlight from the human and celestial realm. It's around 6 in the morning, your bare feet are cold against the long hallways of the house of lamentation.

The house is getting colder as the seasons pass, your having to wear a sweater or a robe when you wake up in the early mornings. Maybe you should mention to Lucifer that he should think about turning on the heaters at night.

Your rub your eyes triedly when walking into the kitchen. Flipping on the light above the stove, you turned the coffee maker on, the small bulbs lighting up the darker area. You reached above the coffee pot and dug out a paper filter and the ground coffee.

Once you cleaned out the pot, you set it in the maker. You opened the package of filters and put on it along with the ground coffee beans. The smell is strong, almost enough to make your eyes water.

Lucifer likes his coffee black and some water to thin it out. It reminds you of your father, he likes his coffee the same way. You smile fondly of the thought of your dad.

Your body tenses when the coffee makers makes a rumbling sound as it begins the process of making the coffee.

You lean against the counter and watch the steam flow out any open space, the brown liquid pouring into the glass pot. You felt your soul leave you body when the kitchen lights flicked on.

Lucifer, in all his glory, stood at the entrance of the kitchen. Sleep still visible in his tired eyes, his hair slightly sticking up, his silk PJs wrinkled and sticking to his robe. You blush at the sight.

"MC" His voice is groggy and dry, but he had a small, kind smile on his face. "Hi Luci" You make sure to stay quiet, not wanting to wake anyone else up.

"So it has been you? Waking up at such early hours just to please me?" His voice is low and teasing but there is genuine happiness in his voice.

"Yes, I noticed you got irritated and it took a lot of time out of your day to make it" You explained, pressing your palms against the cold, marble countertop.

Lucifer hummed and walked over to you, his slipper gently hitting the hardwood floor. His ruby eyes never leaving you, his smile never fading.

When he got to you he brought you into a hug, his hand in your hair his other around your waist and shoulders. You smiled and wrapped your arms around him, hooking themselves under his arms and resting on his shoulder blades.

Your cheek pressed against his toned chest, your eyes closed as you and him begin to sway. His head rested on yours while he held you close. His chest vibrated as he started humming, it's faint and quiet; only you and him are able to hear it.

Lucifer never has or had someone to care for him in such a little way, but it effects him so deeply he can't help but fall more in love with you.

You have such a kind soul, he had sensed it ever since you arrived. He doesn't know what he did to deserve you, but he is eternally grateful.

I truly believe The Great Mammon, is forgetful af.

He is always leaving something he needs behind.

Like his sunglasses, his favorite necklace, his favorite pair of earrings, even his car keys, or his favorite powdered foundation for modeling sessions.

The list goes on and on.

You noticed his forgetful habit before you even started dating him.

You constantly reminded him, a few or more times before he left the house but he always manages to leave something behind.

While you and the boy's were out at the mall one day, you decided to get him something to keep all of his things in.

A purse was a little to girly and he'd probably be embarrassed to carry it around, tho yk he would try just for you.

A wallet was to small to hold his car keys and foundation.

Plus, he already has a gold wallet he kept with him everywhere he went, even in his sleep.

Then you found it, the perfect thing just for your Mammon.

You just so happen to find it in Bath & Body works. The small black bag was perfect. It was big enough to hold his car keys and anything on the bigger side, but also had smaller pockets for jewelry and extra grim.

You couldn't help but smile, your chest buzzing with joy. You grabbed the bag and stepped in line. The line was long, all the demons are impatient, big or small. Always grumbling under their breath.

You always felt uncomfortable around all of them, especially when you didn't have one of the brothers with you. They despise you for being human, they think it's fun to pick and make fun of you. For literally anything under the dark sky of the Devildom.

You've learned to ignore it, one of the brothers or you handsome boyfriend usually scares the shit out of them anyway, but when it's just yourself your are a little more vigilant.

"Hi, this all for Ya?" The cashier was faux friendly, of course. Her name badge crooked and her hair was unneat and definitely unkept.

"Yes" You handed her the bag and got out the credit card Lucifer and Mammon had made for you an only you.

She gave you the biggest side eyes you've ever received. The card is black and gold, the royal stamp in the middle of it. A sparkly Gold outlining the edges making a pattern towards the marking on the back. The mark of the greedy, you and Mammon's pact mark.

You knew he would know once you mad a purchase. His pact mark stinging as you got greedy when buying something, a courtesy of having the bond with the Avatar of greed. Always craving something more, always wanting and needing it. The items would shine and beckon you in, temptation tugging at you.

You swallowed the thought of buying the whole store and quickly left. You could feel the greed seeping into your soul.

"Oi! MC!" Mammon's voice quickly brought you out of your tempting thoughts. You watched him jog towards you, his limba ring glowing a beautiful gold.

"Hi Mams" You said breathlessly, your own eyes shining a bright yellow. Mammon's face flushed, his pact mark stinging into his skin. But it felt so good when it did, he need it to sting more, to watch you get greedy infront of him or, even better, for him.

"I got you something" You smile so softly, it brings him to his knees.

"O-Of course you got the Great Mammon something, who wouldn't?" He grinned and curiously watched you hand him the white and blue plastic bag.

Mammon's face was bright red, his hands reached into the shopping bag and took out his gift. His eyes shines with happiness, a bright smile engulfing his beautiful face.

"I got it to hold the things your forgetting all the time, you just put it in there so it's all together" You explained holding into his free hand and swinging it back in forth.

Mammon wanted to cry. You are so perfect. So kind, so sweet to him. His perfect human. All to himself.

He brought you into a bone crushing hug, the bag you got him he held tightly in his hands. You giggled and hugged him back, running your fingers along his spine and shoulders.

Mammon made sure to always keep the bag with him, a small picture of you and him tucked away in his wallet and that bag. He also spoiled the shit outta you at the mall that day.

Levi is probably the second most untidy out of his brothers, next to Mammon.

Games all over the floor near his tv, his dirty clothes basket overflowing with clothes, his blankets unwashed.

Its just a mess.

And I picture you as sort of a neat freak some days, you don't mind the mess it's just not and organized mess?

Levi is embarrassed about his room and he does try to make a mental note to keep it cleaner for when your around but he forgets. To engrossed by his games to remember.

You know he trys to remember to clean it but, Levi can't help himself when all of his gaming friends are playing in he's not

He is the Avatar of Envy after all.

So while he games and you are just hanging out in his room, you decide to pick up his cave.

But only behind him so he can't see, Levi doesn't really notice nor does he hear it, his headset on all the way.

He does notice after you are gone how his room feels cleaner, bigger. Maybe it was just your calming presences.

You do this quite often, and you even clean up his games on the floor when he's at a student council meeting.

DO NOT ENTER

The sign on your boyfriends door reads. You are surprised Levi gave you permission to go into his room without him there. It make you smile knowing that he trusts you enough.

It's almost and intimate thing. His room is his safe space, where he can be himself and not be bothered by his brothers. Where he can watch all of his shows without being teased. Where he can cosplay all of his favorite characters and daydream of what they'd be like in person.

You find all of this adorable, it's what makes Levi, Levi.

When you are inside his room, Your are hesitant in cleaning up his gaming space, that is almost sacred. So you decide to leave it be untill you ask his permission. But his room is starting to smell from Levi's dirty clothes that continues to pile up against the wall.

You begin by separating his nice clothes form his everyday clothes, those go to the dry cleaners on Tuesday. The rest go into your laundry basket and down to the laundry room.

You hope the meeting will be and extra bit longer today, so you could be in and out before Levi and the brothers get home. If Lucifer found out you were the one doing his laundry and picking up his room, he'd hang you and Levi off the roof like Mammon.

You have your headphones on, one ear isn't covered so you could hear the loud stomping of the boys when they get home. You start humming with the song that rings into you ears, your head bobbing with the beat.

You carry down a load of Levi's laundry. You get the washer ready and start it, his shirts getting wet as the washer fills with water. You bring the rest of his shirts and his socks and put them into the second washer, that sits underneath the first one. With 8 people living in one house you have to have more than one washer and dryer.

While his clothes are washing, you decide to clean around his bed and dust things off. Henry, you and Levi's adopted son, watches out of his fish tank. You lift things up and dust underneath them but set them right where they once were.

After dusting, you clean up all the trash around his tub and put it in his little Ruri trash can next to his night stand. You check all the wrappers to make sure they don't have anything Levi would like on them before throwing them away.

You fail to notice your headphones slipping onto your uncovered ear. But you continued on with making his Tub the most comfortable it could be. His Ruri pillow directly where he likes it.

Being so occupied in your own little world and the music blasting in you ears, you didn't hear the heard of elephants coming up the stairs and Levi opening his bedroom door.

Levi watched you with a dark blush on his face. How you finished making his tub the way he likes it, the way you folded his clothes and set them neatly in his dresser. And all with a small smile on your face.

"Uh, MC." Levi finally spoke, his hands in his jacket pocket. When you didn't answer he saw you had headphones on. He knows you weren't purposely ignoring him, but he felt envy creeping up on him.

He knew he had to thank you in some way, but his anxiety spikes at the thought, his envy washing away. He decided on the just hugging you from behind, but he didn't want to scare you.

Levi slowly tapped your shoulder, you could feel someone in the room with you but you choose to ignore it. You have a very good idea who it is now. You slip your headphones off and see Levi's pale hand on your shoulder.

"Hi Levi" Your voice was so quiet and calming, you weren't surprised at all. His face was tinted a cute pink, his ears red.

"MC, Can...Can you stay turned that way?" He requested. You nodded and faced away from him.

A few seconds later you felt his slim arms around your waist, his head laying against your neck and shoulders. His breathing was fast, and his heartbeat was quick. You smiled and layed your hands over his.

"Thank you"

You almost missed it, his voice so quiet, his chest rumbled against you as he spoke. You smiled and leaned back against him.

This was Levi's way of saying thank you and showing affection You couldn't be more proud of him. He is slowly getting over his shyness and Tsuendere attitude. But You wouldn't have it any other way.

#obey me belphie #obey me asmodeus #obey me x reader #obey me leviathan #obey me lucifer #obey me #leviathan x reader #leviathan x mc #lucifer x mc #lucifer x reader #mammon x mc #mammon x reader #mammon fluff #lucifer fluff #leviathan fluff #obey me brothers #obey me fluff #obey me headcannons #thefandomthings

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fandoms--fluff · 9 months

Note

Can you do a tvd x teenage Salvatore reader

Comfy

Female teenage Salvatore reader x Stefan Salvatore x Damon Salvatore (+others)

Warnings: swearing?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Come on you have to get up" Stefan says sitting on your bed beside where your laying.

"Go away it's too early for this shit" you mumbled into your pillow.

Stefan sighed and took the blanket off of you, solving the mystery of where one of his favorite sweaters went, you're wearing it.

"Come on its either the easy way or the hard way" He said knowing full well you can hear him.

You didn't respond and he reached over to you and pulled your body into his lap. "The hard way it is then."

He stood up carrying you and went downstairs where Damon was sitting. By the time he got there, you were almost fully dozed off again if it wasn't for Damon throwing a pillow at your face to wake you up again. You just responded by holding up a middle finger at your older brother and then snuggling into your other older brother, going back into the comfortable position you were in before.

"You realize you do have to change before we leave the house, right?" Damon raised an eyebrow while smirking.

"Who said I was leaving?" You groaned, not wanting to leave and get out of your comfy clothes.

"We are. Everyone is meeting at Elena's house, we need to talk about the problem on our hands" Stefan says, putting you down on the armchair next to a stack of books that needed to be put back, on the ground.

"Whyyyy, so what? there's another doppelganger, big whoopty-doo" You rolled your eyes, actually not minding Silas because he was entertaining at least.

"Too bad, you're going" Damon said, putting his drink down.

You begrudgingly walk up the steps to Elena's house. You still have Stefan's sweater on, only changing from your sleep pants to dark wash, flared jeans.

When you walked in, you immediaetly make you're way down the hallway and to the left where Jeremy is playing video games. You sat down next to him after you grabbed a controller from the coffee table.

The two of you quickly immersed into the shooting game, completely forgetting the point of the whole friend group meet-up.

"Where are Jeremy and Y/n?" Caroline asked, looking around the room, not seeing the two sixteen year olds (you, biologically). "Playing video games in the next room" Elena sighed. She tried to get you guys to stop, but failed and walked away, not in the mood to fight with two moody teenagers who both don't want to socialize except with each other for some reason.

"Then I'll be right back" Caroline said.

She walked down the hall and over to the both of you. She stood in front of the tv, but before either of you could say anything, she grabbed both your guys' left ears.

She pulled you guys by your ears to the living room. "Hey!" you both exclaimed at the same time, not happy about being pulled away from your secluded area.

The next three hours are the most boring and long hours both you and Jeremy have ever had to endure. Well, before you fell asleep on top of each other and no one noticed after those couple of hours.

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byechristopher · 4 months

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pleaseee a fic where chris and reader meet for the first time (she's lowkey sad or some shit like that idk) and he's all starstruck by her ��

lucky you.

–CHRIS STURNIOLO FLUFF.

Author's note: hey y'all. I got the idea from this lovely anon (thank you for the request!🤍) and combined it with something that actually happened to me. Fate truly works in mysterious ways – so take this long, sappy story (based on true events, pft). I hope you like it! Do not copy/steal my work. :)

Warnings: long, sappy fluff. Very slight angst if you squeeze, but nothing crazy. Very long, didn't proofread!

My mom used to always say – "that's life; when one door closes, another door opens". And if I still lived in the same house with mom, she'd know; I haven't seen an opened door in a long while. It is unfair but it is what it is and I had no intention of succumbing to tears in the solitude of my nightly despair.

Seated on the chilled bench, I instinctively drew my knees towards my chest in a desperate bid for warmth. The sheer elegance of my black tights, though adorning my legs, proved futile against the biting cold. Unfazed, I refrained from complaining; after all, they were my cherished favorites. Mascara was most likely smudged from my previous ugly crying, yet I ignored it, taking solace in my sweater's embrace.

Leaning my head against my knees, my fingers absentmindedly engaged with the laces of my shoes – a subconscious act of distraction. In the midst of this self-imposed solitude, a sudden exclamation pierced the quietude.

"Shit!" I heard a voice, someone angry. The mysterious guy threw his hat on the pavement and scoffed, his hair nearly as messy as mine. His gaze shifted towards me, a thorough assessment from head to toe, "care if I sit next to you?" he asked quickly. Without much ado, I responded with a nonchalant shrug. I didn't care, I had way more things to worry about.

I could feel him rummaging through his pockets, trying to find God knows what, he seemed upset, anxious, "want a cig?" I didn't see him, but I saw his extended arm in front of me. I don't think he was looking at me either.

"Sure." I murmured under my breath, taking a cigarette from him half-empty packet.

"Why does life have to be such a fucking bitch?" I chuckled in response, treating it more as a statement than a question. Offering another shrug, I watched as he scanned the area, likely in search of his lighter.

"If I had the answer to that, I'd probably murder this bitch." I chuckled, he chuckled too.

He held the lighter in front of me and only then did I turn my head to look at him – he was definitely not what I expected to see from what I've heard. While I didn't dwell on it for long, it seemed he did, as seconds passed without his lighter igniting. His intense pale blue eyes remained fixed on mine, and I briefly removed the cigarette from my mouth.

"Hello?" was my mascara that smudged that I scared the guy? He hasn't uttered a word.

"Oh.. sorry." he shook his head, as though attempting to shake off the reverie that had consumed him in the past few moments in his own world, "I just.. didn't expect you to be here?"

"Well.. I'm pretty sure we haven't met before. So how come you didn't expect me?.." I was confused.

"No, I mean.. you are very beautiful." he almost whispered but I caught that, and if I was just a little disconnected from reality, I probably would've blushed.

"Oh. Thank you." my lips turned into a thin line – I put the cigarette back into my mouth, grabbing his lighter instead.

He chuckled, "and I thought I didn't know how to take a compliment." he took his lighter back, taking a puff of his own cigarette.

"Don't you hear like a thousand compliments on a daily basis?" with my knees still pulled up to my chest, I embraced them tightly, resting my head against the comforting curve of my legs.

"Hm. And yet this was the best compliment anyone has ever given me." he placed a leg on the bench, just so that he'd be able to have his whole body face me.

I couldn't help but laugh, "yeah, I'm good at giving things. Not receiving."

He nodded, his hat still on the ground although he didn't seem to care, "understood.." he smiled and wow, he had a nice smile, almost contagious, "a fellow people pleaser, nice to meet you. I'm Chris."

I reciprocated with a nod and a quick smile. My name slipped off my lips swiftly, echoed by him, and I couldn't help but notice how much better it sounded when it rolled off his tongue.

"Will I ever see you again?" he looked me dead in the eye.

"Probably not." I pursed my lips, looking back at him.

He nodded as if he understood and dropped his burnt cigarette to the ground. Chris grabbed his hat and got up, offering another smile, "I believe in fate."

"I don't." I teased, smiling.

"You probably should." he shouted, already far away from me to speak normally.

What an interaction.

It had been quite a while since said interaction. Not that I thought about the guy a lot, but he definitely was in the back of my mind. Even when I was outside, he'd still cross my mind every now and then, like a nice, distant memory.

I chuckled as I gulped down my whiskey – the music was too loud for my own liking but it was a Saturday night and it'd be a pity if I stayed home once again; my friends begged and I actually like hanging out with them. I watched as my friends danced with each other, not too far away from me, as I rummaged through my purse to find the money so I could pay and leave.

"Fucking.. shit.." I cursed under my breath, turning my phone's flashlight on because the lights in that bar were bright as fuck, but apparently not enough to actually help me see.

"D'you need any help?" I heard a somewhat familiar voice shouting behind me. I turned around and my eyes widened when I saw him.

"I.. you!" I was beyond surprised, to say the least, because I was truly convinced I'd never see him again. Not because I didn't want it; but because I had enough on my plate already.

"Shit.." he whispered, and if I wasn't already looking at his lips, I wouldn't be able to know what he said, "..see, I told you fate works in mysterious ways."

"This was just a coincidence." I convince myself.

Was it, though?

"This was no coincidence and you know it.." he grinned and I let my eyes travel down his body for a few seconds – he looked best in black, ".. I need to see you again.." he muttered.

"Well, it seems you will indeed see me again." I smiled.

"Does that mean you'll give me your phone number?" he grinned and I saw his eyes do the same thing mine did to him; check me out.

I hummed, "..hmm.. no. We'll see if fate actually works." I smiled.

"You can't be serious.." he tilted his head, looking at me in disbelief, "I found you again, how can I leave when I don't know if I'll ever see you again?"

"You said you believed in fate."

I found him undeniably attractive and intriguing. However, at that moment, I realized I wasn't emotionally equipped to entertain the idea of liking someone or embarking on dates. The weight of my personal struggles loomed large, and I couldn't shake the fear that if he discovered the extent of my problems, he'd likely reject me. Hence, I concluded it was better to distance myself now rather than risk inevitable disappointment later on.

It's not like I'd see him again.

Truly, it's been more than a month since I last saw him; I did think about him way more often than usual but he still remained a nice, distant memory. A memory that was in the past and would never be in the future.

"Yo, we're leaving already? It's 2AM." my friend whined, although we were already walking down the stairs, toward the exit, with our jackets on and bags in our hands.

"No, love, we're just taking our fucking bags for a little walk." another friend replied, rolling her eyes and I couldn't help but laugh at their bickering.

Immediately after departing from the bar, he made his way out of the restaurant located directly beneath it. You have to be fucking kidding me.

"You.." he whispered, his eyes widened.

My mouth hung open, my eyes as wide as his; I really couldn't believe it this time. This couldn't be a coincidence, right?

"What.. are you doing here?" there was nothing else that could leave my mouth at that time.

"I work here.. now, you can't tell me this is a coincidence." he walked closer to me, although still keeping a distance to be respectful.

It definitely wasn't but I was still in the same mood I was back then.

"I can't tell just yet." I teased him; deep down I wished I could give him way more. But I knew I couldn't.

"Don't.. tell me.. are you not gonna give me your phone number? Again?" he chuckled in disbelief once again. I nodded.

"He better be a murderer, bitch; that's the only valid reason for you not giving him your phone number yet." shit, I completely forgot that my friends were literally behind me, staring at us; they knew nothing about this.

"Stop." I whispered to my friend and I don't think she heard me but she definitely saw the expression on my face.

"Please?" he said and I almost gave in when I saw those eyes.

I have always been self-destructive but this wasn't it, this time. It was realistic, right? I really couldn't do this; I knew he wouldn't be able to keep up with my lifestyle so I was just doing me a favor by saving myself from possible heartbreak. Right?

"I promise you now; if we meet again, I'm opening up to you. Fully. My phone number, my likes, my diskikes." I gave him a teasing smile, which he seemed happy to receive.

"Pinky promise. Now. I trust fate but not you." he chuckled and so did I.

"But you trust my pinky?" I laughed but he seemed serious, despite his playful stare. I sighed, still smiling, wrapping my pinky around his, "..promise."

This would probably never happen. It's fine.

This time, I really thought about him; dreamed about him even. That was very unlike me but it happened either way. I seemed to be doing lots of things that were unlike me lately – like going to this bar again. I wasn't going to see him but I was hoping to.

The whiskey was cold against my lips, my black dress hugging my hips as I sat down on the couch.

"Third time's the charm."

No.

I turned my head and saw Chris speaking to the friend group that were sitting next to ours; I saw them getting up and leaving, Chris replacing them.

"Oh God.. what did you tell them?" my grin was wider than usual, I really wanted to see him after all.

"That.. I needed to sit next to you. And that it was a matter of life and death." he smiled, taking a sip of his own drink.

"You're crazy."

"For you." he said, searching for something.

Before realising, I saw his phone in front of me, signaling me to dial my phone number. And of course, I did.

"So. Start. Tell me everything."

"Do you have free time?" I tilted my head, still looking at him.

"For you? Always." he chuckled.

I cupped his cheeks and pulled him closer, looking into his eyes to make sure he wanted to kiss me as well. And as soon as I felt him leaning towards me, I placed the softest kiss on his own soft lips.

"Take me home?"

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shalotttower · 6 months

Text

Fractalize (part 1)

Title: Fractalize

Fandom: Hunter x Hunter

Summary: Lack of hope creates a strange kind of numbness.

Word count: 3700+

Characters: Chrollo x Reader (female)

Notes: yandere Chrollo, kidnapped, depressed and miserable Reader, Reader is dissociating a lot, morbid pondering, suicidal thoughts, explicit/triggering language/words, Reader's thoughts on possible sexual assault in future. Part 2

Fractalize - making things into smaller copies of themselves over and over again.

Sometimes you stand in front of a mirror and try to picture yourself in another timeline. One where your life didn’t take this specific turn. You try to imagine a different setting, a different apartment - perhaps the one you had before Chrollo started moving you around like a luggage bag. Maybe living in a cottage by the sea or an old farmhouse. Someplace rural, peaceful. With a garden and fresh air, far away from the city noises.

It's difficult at first, your reflection keeps slipping through your mental fingers every time you think the image is set in place. But with practice it becomes easier, sort of, so you can now see yourself clearly as you brush your hair - not here.

A blue dress on, made for nights at parties with friends. Laughing until your stomach hurts and eyes become sore. Making silly faces over alcoholic beverages. Or you can wear your favourite jeans with a high waist and head out to the pub, the same one with crooked stools and a broken sign. Drink cheep bear, eat greasy peanuts from a little bowl, listen to some small band play unknown and unheard songs.

Leave intoxicated, and everything is too fast and vibrant and wonderful until you're back home.

It's your favourite pastime now: imagine, remake and slip.

Imagine. Remake. Slip.

You don't quite remember the last time you laughed, a month ago maybe. Maybe more. Lack of hope creates a strange kind of numbness, dull, cold, you would compare it to a winter plastered all over your insides, but it's almost colder than that. It freezes everything and turns it into icicles hanging off the roof.

Remake, slip.

You have new vocabulary now.

"Mm" - is for when he asks you if you like a dress or a top and it doesn't matter how you actually feel about it, because it's going to end up being worn anyway.

"Okay" - is for when Chrollo sets another fancy meal for you on a dinner table and "Eat, don't be shy".

"I'm not hungry" - doesn't work with him, even if it's the truth. You always eat what's put in front of you, that's the rule, because he's not above shoving the spoon into your mouth, so you spare yourself the tears and sobs that will probably come with that. It's so bizarre: how much effort he puts into keeping you alive when you're anything but.

"Whatever you want" - is for when he asks you something that requires a choice, between two or three options usually. He's not one for an extensive list.

"If you say so" - for everything else.

You used to delude yourself with the idea that if you managed to appear pleasant enough, pleasant-talking, pleasant-listening, smiling a bit here and there, it would gain you some privileges and perhaps a bit more freedom. It did. But never where it really mattered. Those little things were absolutely inconsequential in the grand scheme. Yes, you can have that sweater, dear. No, you can't have your own bed. Yes, you can come shopping with me, if you give me a kiss. No, you can't take walks without me holding your hand.

Yes this and no that.

Those moments were fragile and so very takeable that they didn't give you any sense of accomplishment, just a short respite and bitter aftertaste that made you feel pathetic.

Wasn't worth it.

***

"Do you like animals, dear?" Chrollo asks out of the blue one day. He's reading something on his tablet while you're curled up on the couch, watching TV.

It's a new series that's been on the major channels for a few weeks, a mystery drama about a girl who moves into a house she inherited from her grandfather. The picture provides a distraction enough to have you forgetting where you are for a brief period three times a week.

You pull the blanket higher. "I do."

He knows it.

The girl on the screen finds a mysterious box hidden in the attic. Perhaps there's something valuable inside. Or information about her grandpa; your fingers tug on a loose blanket thread without much thought.

"What kind?"

Or maybe it's just a time capsule with photos and postcards and random objects collected over the years.

Or-

You had a cat before he took you. A foster grey ragdoll with blue eyes who liked to rest on your belly and bump her head against your chin. You called her Miss Whiskerton and kissed her little nose, because she did act like a proper lady - poised, dignified and entirely too proud to eat food mixed with medicine. The worst enemy Miss Whiskerton has ever had in her cat life was the corner of your couch. When you weren't paying attention, she would dig her claws into the fabric and leave thin lines. You hope that someone took her in.

She probably thought you abandoned her.

"Cats."

Chrollo hums in acknowledgment and continues scrolling through whatever he's looking at - maybe news or auction listings, you don't know nor do you really care. You shift under the blanket, pulling your legs closer to your body.

"We can get one, if you'd like."

"No."

Your answer is immediate and short, without thinking. You know it, you know him by now - there's nothing Chrollo does out of spontaneous generosity, it always benefits him in some way. And you've studied him enough to figure that any pet would only be a tool to keep you tamed and compliant. Puppies make life better. Happier, lighter, with goofy smiling faces and wiggling tails. Cats make life better with soft purrs and paws stomping on your chest. They're too easy to love.

"Why not?" There's a sound of tablet set on a wooden surface.

The girl on the screen is trying to solve a combination lock on the box when the TV switches off and your little world of carefully shot scenes and scripted lines vanishes. You don't need to turn around to guess where's the remote.

She almost had it, but now you won't know what's inside until Thursday evening.

Your reflection stares back from the dead screen, blank-faced and with a blanket pulled up your nose. It tickles a bit. "Because I don't want one."

A chair creaks. "Why?"

You close your eyes shut for a moment before opening them again. This is tiring. Always probing, digging, pushing. Trying to find chinks in your armor, but all you're wearing is just a flimsy dress with thin straps and a blanket you wish could swallow you whole.

"Don't need it."

"You said you like animals," Chrollo sits next to you and places a hand on top of your covered legs. He squeezes your thigh and you stare ahead, wishing he would just leave you alone tonight.

"I do." Your fingers twitch under the blanket, nails scratching at the fabric.

Strange. Sometimes it feels like he understands perfectly that you want to be alone, have time for yourself and don't want his constant physical presence. At the same time Chrollo brushes this all aside like old tin foil wrappers - insignificant. He pulls the blanket down and you cling on it stubbornly for a few seconds before letting go. His thumb and index finger grasp your chin and turn your face towards him so you have no choice but to meet his eyes.

There's such still intensity within him that made your skin crawl whenever he looked at you with this much focus and attention. You don't know what he saw there most times, it used to be fear or anger or sadness - right now it's none of these things. Everything inside you feels jammed and stiff.

"We should get a fish then," he continues, brushing hair out of your forehead. "You can watch it swim around, wouldn't that be nice?"

Chrollo talks to you like this sometimes, as if you're a child who needs to be convinced to eat veggies or take medicine. Like you're simple-minded and he's reasoning with you out of good will. It's sickening. You hate it.

"I don't want a pet," you repeat the words slowly. "If you're going to give me something only to take it away, then I don't want it."

His finger leisurely stroking your chin pauses at the edge of your bottom lip. Something flickers behind his eyes, it's barely noticeable but you've become good at catching those minuscule shifts. He smiles, yet there's nothing joyful about it. "Take it away? Why would I do that, dear?"

"Because that's what you do. Because that's how you are." You don't try to pull free from his hold, he'll only tighten it; not enough to hurt, no, he is too suave and polished for that - or wants to appear so - but enough for you to feel trapped under his palm.

There's something off about you, you can tell, but are not quite able to discern what or where. It sits in the very structure of your bones and eats away with ravenous appetite. An imbalance in the gut. Fever-warm body, cold fingers. Thoughts like potholes.

"And how am I exactly, according to you?" His voice is light, playful, a stark contrast to his eyes that study you with unnerving precision. Chrollo rarely loses his temper and never gets violent with you (yet, you correct yourself), but he has other ways of expressing displeasure, and they're petty, ugly and cold.

"Cruel," the word rolls off your tongue so effortlessly that almost frightens you; it's easy to tell the truth when you're this numb.

He looks taken aback for a split second, and the smile freezes. His hand stops midway to your hair. Then everything's gone.

Chrollo releases you and leans back into the cushions, almost thoughtful, like your observation is something that requires careful consideration.

"I suppose, it depends," he says finally.

"On what?"

"On how you choose to see things. Your perspective is bound to be biased, dear."

You don't respond.

To continue this conversation would be pointless and circular, like running on a treadmill, like everything else between you and Chrollo, really. He simply has too many answers to any possible argument, and no matter how convincing you manage to make them sound, he'll poke holes into each one. You don't want a fish. Or a cat. Or a dog, a bird, anything that moves and breathes and looks at you with big, trusting eyes.

Chrollo is cruel. Not in a way that's straightforward and brutal. Not in a way of someone who'd tear your limbs apart or rip off a fly's wing to see it wiggle. You have no doubt that he is capable of such a thing, but that would be uncouth. Cruelty in his case is a quieter, more delicate affair - in a way of a sculptor who'd chisel off everything unnecessary and unneeded, no matter the size or significance, to produce something entirely his.

His hands are soft, his voice is always composed, and he wears well tailored clothes. But the rest is sharp, clean and merciless.

"I think I'll go to bed," you say and push away the blanket.

"It's early."

"Mm."

He takes your hand just as you're about to slide off the sofa. Chrollo's always faster than you, always ahead and always observing, and that little realization while bitter is not so shocking anymore, more like another fact that you file away from your interactions.

You watch him. Wait.

"You're distraught," he says. "But you should know by now that there's no need for that."

Your hand remains in his grasp, limp and heavy.

"I don't enjoy seeing you upset, dear. Even more if you make false conclusions."

You turn to see the expression on his face - and there isn't one, at least not the type that most people would make. There are no frowning eyebrows, no clenched jaw that would indicate irritation, nothing like that.

"You're giving me too little credit," his tone is quiet as he runs his fingers up and down your wrist. "My intentions are not to hurt you. They are much, much sweeter than that."

"But you would," you say quietly and lean closer, ignoring the obvious implication behind his words. There is a hollow sensation inside of your head that prompts you to speak, everything is hollow - body and mind, heart, the space in your guts, your throat. "You would hurt me, if that's what you thought was necessary. Rip me apart and leave me deformed beyond repair, to fit into whatever framework you've laid, you would do that."

You're not being deliberately cryptic or fatalistic. These are your observations, based on a period of months spent together. They take root in no one being there for you anymore, in your phone which is long gone, in your closed accounts, your missing laptop and old clothes, the entire previous life in the city that has been discarded for something new. Chrollo was very methodical, you can give him that.

He doesn't listen, he studies your responses. Every single word. He has a talent for that, for absorbing everything about you while hardly ever letting you glimpse his interior - all that you know about him are tiny slivers which you picked up through living together, observation, accidental bits.

You expect him to contradict your statement, to offer a logical explanation why you're wrong, but instead Chrollo brings your hand to his lips and presses a kiss against your knuckles. The touch is light and dry.

"You're not entirely wrong, dear," he says and moves closer until you can smell his aftershave, something fresh.

His proximity is uncomfortable, it always is and probably always will be.

"I'm right then," you say.

"No," he keeps your hand in his grasp. "But you're not entirely wrong either. That's what makes you interesting."

There's a strange kind of fondness in his voice, it's subtle, yet undeniably present. You've never felt less interesting in your life, in a dress with thin straps that's too fancy for a lazy day at home and your bare feet and tangled hair.

"If you say so," you respond and slowly tug your hand free. "I really want to sleep now."

You get up, and he lets you go without another proposition. The blanket falls off onto the sofa, and before you slip into the semi-darkness of the bedroom, he says,

"Not beyond repair. But I like to believe we can both agree it doesn't have to come to that."

***

The drive feels endless. Houses and streets blur in a mix of colors, shapes and people, which soon change to an empty highway with greenery on both sides. Trees and fields, tall grass swaying gently in the wind and rare cars passing you by. Chrollo's hand is resting on your leg; he hasn't moved it since the car started, but you choose to ignore it in favor of your regular pastime, the one that's made of imaginary worlds and places where the timeline stretches differently.

Mostly it's just you and the layout of your fake apartment.

Imagine, remake, slip. Repeat the steps until it becomes muscle memory.

You have this daydream on loop now. Wooden floor and wide windows, lots of sunlight. Books everywhere, comfy clothes and not a single skirt in your closet. A cup of tea with honey in the morning, and Miss Whiskerton curled into a soft grey ball on your lap. You feed her salmon in a shiny bowl, occasionally she catches a lizard outside and drops the tail on your doorstep as an offering, looking immensely proud of herself.

A smile slips on your face without meaning to, a wobbly thing; you promptly wipe it off.

It would be a crime to show such blatant joy. This fantasy has become so sweetly personal that every fiber of your being resists even acknowledging it in front of Chrollo. He can sense a stray happy thought from miles away, like a hound, and will never stop prodding until everything is raw and tender. You've learned to say less in his presence, especially if it's something that has you invested. Chrollo knows how to pick things apart.

You lean your cheek against the glass. This world would never happen, never in a million years, but dreaming doesn't hurt anyone, does it?

Your grandma, wearing an apron, sets a tray filled with fresh pastries on a table, because she's amazing like that. She fusses and worries and pretends to scold you. For not calling enough, for not coming sooner, for not eating well. For leaving.

"Dear."

You almost jump.

Chrollo's voice brings you back where his hand is heavy on your leg, you're wearing a dress above the knee and aren't allowed to use scissors or knives.

"Mm?"

"That frown of yours," he says, turning into a small road. The surroundings change again, it's quiet here, not a soul in sight. "It's been there for fifteen minutes now."

You sit up straight and move your hair out of your eyes. Chrollo's a perceptive one, so this is a reminder not to sink too deep around him, unless you absolutely need it.

"Was just thinking."

"You do it a lot lately," he states and looks at you from the corner of his eye.

True, but you have no intention to confirm it. First, he won't like the reason behind these thoughts. Second, he will dig and try to worm his way in. No. Most of what you've been fixating on, staring out of the window like a mindless drone, or reading and rereading pages that you barely grasped, would fail to create anything more complex in his heart than desire to pull it out.

For whatever twisted reason, Chrollo cares for your well-being, or, more precisely, your acceptance of his advances. Yet his way of caring isn't nurturing in any sense.

Chrollo's interest (you don't dare call it love) is crushing, too heavy to carry - he'll find what troubles you and "fix it" in way that will twist it into something pathetic. Something that shows how you have nothing else to cling on but him. You're not stupid enough to keep falling into this trap. Being a slow learner doesn't mean you don't learn at all.

He's done it before. He'll do it again. So you reply, "I haven't noticed."

His thumb rubs circles on your thigh; you press your shoulder against the car door as if hoping it might open. It doesn't, much to your disappointment.

"What was on your mind then?"

Something you shouldn't tell him, that's for sure. Chrollo's watching you, even if his eyes are trained on the road.

"Random stuff," you say. Half-truths, half-truths are safe. "A weird dream I had this morning."

If you bothered to look, you'd see a raised eyebrow and the faintest hint of amusement at the corners of his mouth. You don't.

"Tell me."

You hate when he does that.

"It was boring."

"I'm interested in anything that made you so pensive."

Chrollo likes conversations with you, even if they're short. You can tell that he does, or he wouldn't be trying to make you talk and getting subtly frustrated when you choose not to. It never shows outright, Chrollo is very gifted at keeping his calm exterior, but there are certain giveaways like the slight tightening of his hand, an emphasized "dear", a pause here, or a quiet exhale through the nose. You could make a list out of these.

If you ignore him, he gets quiet and handsy or petty enough to throw away the only dress you feel comfortable in. Stop bringing you new books. Take you to places you hate.

It's always the small things that kill you, not the big, dramatic ones. The devils in the details.

"There was a lizard," you begin, and he hums in response, prompting you to continue. "It was cute with brown spots and a tiny tail."

Lies weave themselves easily, intertwine with truths and turn it into something that resembles a story.

"It was sitting on my windowsill and I wanted to pet it. A cat came out of nowhere and almost ate it, then I woke up. It's a silly dream."

There. Nothing to dissect here, not that you can see. Just a nonsensical dream, filled with random happenings and strange emotions.

"And that's why you frowned for fifteen minutes?"

"Yes, I got sad."

Yes, you think. Yes, Chrollo. I frowned, because I care for the damn lizard that doesn't exist, an animal from a dream. A stupid musing, nothing special, a very mundane and simple thing, because people do have silly dreams sometimes, and it's not a crime. It's not a crime and has nothing to do with that fact that I have a whole dream world where I'm not with you in my head.

"How peculiar. You never struck me as the type to get upset over something like this."

"You never asked," you respond flatly and Chrollo's hand on your thigh moves an inch.

It brushes up, closer to where you really, really don't want it to be, so you squeeze his fingers hard and redirect them to the curve of your knee.

"True," he says after a pause, not sounding too bothered. A month ago you would've brushed his hand off completely, probably that's why. Chrollo is convinced that with enough patience and effort he'll be able to close that final barrier between you both. Time, coaxing, a dose or two of endearment, some carefully calculated touch - but you'd rather stick a knife through your ribs than have sex with him. Or his patience will simply run out and he'll rape you. You're not delusional. Not a fool. "Well, that can be fixed. I'll make sure to ask about your dreams more often, dear."

You lean back into the seat and stare ahead, this time without anything pleasant on your mind. Of course he will. Of course he'll take this as a sign to dig deeper and invade that small bit of solace, Chrollo can't simply co-exist. He wants it all.

"Mm," you say.

Your new vocabulary is such a handy thing.

#hunter x hunter #chrollo lucilfer #yandere chrollo #yandere chrollo lucilfer #yandere #hunter x hunter fanfic #chrollo lucifer x reader #shalott fanfiction

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janeyseymour · 4 months

Note

hiii!! i love your writing and i hope you’re doing well <3 i was hoping to request a melissa x reader with “causal” work crush between the two of them. reader is a very put together teacher during school hours but a trendy aesthetic person off campus. mel comes across reader at the grocery store and is astonished at the revealing alternative style and sexy tattoos. reader gets super nervous and shy once mel teasingly approaches. no one at work has ever seen her like this but especially not her crush melissa

oh wow, this one... nice. written as i procrastinate cleaning my house!

Personal and Professional

wc: ~2.4k

You grew up hearing from both of your parents that you should never mix the personal with the professional. So you compartmentalize. You’ve always done it. You kept school life away from home life when you could, and now you keep your work life away from your home life. That’s not to say that you aren’t friends with your coworkers at school. It’s just that it’s much easier to keep professional Y/N and personal Y/N separate.

And the personal and professional you are two entirely different people.

You see, at school, you’re ‘Miss Y/N’. You keep it all together. You’re buttoned up, you’re conservative in your clothing style, and you strive to maintain that aura of professionalism that you see coming off of people like Barbara Howard. You’re pretty damn good at it too. You’re kind, you allow your coworkers to see small bits of your home life (“Oh, I’ll probably just do some grocery shopping before laying on my couch for the entirety of the weekend… maybe I’ll go to the gym,” is your usual response when they ask what you’re doing over the weekend), and the teachers have all come to respect you once you settled into your position.

But once the school hours are over and you can let your hair down, both figuratively and metaphorically, you trade out your blouse and sweater or blazer for more form-fitting and revealing shirts, pants that aren’t slacks, and you change your flats to your doc martens that you’ve been rocking since the eleventh grade. You take out the clear stud and put in your nose ring, and exchange earrings different from the delicate hoops you wear to school. Your multiple tattoos show in your street clothes, and you love it.

You’re not entirely sure how your coworkers would feel if they knew that this was how you presented yourself outside of the school, but it doesn’t matter. They’re so used to seeing you all done up to teach that even if they did see you outside of school, they probably wouldn’t recognize you. You sure as hell wouldn’t go out of your way to say hello if you saw one of them outside of campus.

But then things start to change about six months into working at Abbott.

Shit. You have a thing for one of your coworkers- Melissa Schemmenti to be exact. It’s a very casual and silly thing the two of you have going on, really. She flirts with you, you flirt with her; it’s all in good fun. You know that you’ll never act on it though because you keep your many lives as far away from each other as possible, even going as far as grocery shopping a few streets over from where you know most of your coworkers go in order to not run into them. You’ve never had an issue with running into anyone outside of the school anyway- why would that change?

“What are your plans for the weekend, hot stuff?” Melissa flirts with you while you’re eating lunch. “And don’t give me your usual answer… you gotta have more of a life than what you lead on, miss mysterious.”

You roll your eyes. “You wish I was with you.”

She hums in lieu of an answer before asking you again, “What are your plans for the weekend?”

“Honestly?” you chuckle. “Probably some grocery shopping, I have a friend coming over tomorrow, and then Sunday is a day to grade and veg out on the couch while I catch up on some shitty reality tv.”

“Sounds riveting,” the redhead jokes.

“Well, what do you have going on?”

“Nothin’,” she grins. “I fully plan on staying in my Eagles sweatshirt and catching up on laundry and some chores- probably have some wine while I’m at it. Care to join me on Sunday after I go to church?” She’s never asked you if you wanted to hang out outside of work before, and it throws you for a loop. You nearly choke on your salad.

“Oi,” she huffs playfully. “I was just messin’. I don’t want to have to endure any of that shit reality tv in my house.”

“Yeah,” you chuckle. “I wouldn’t want you to have to sit through that either.” The two of you finish up your lunches and head back to your classrooms to deal with your monsters for the rest of the Friday.

“See you Monday, babe,” Melissa winks at you as she closes the door to her classroom and locks it.

“Oh, counting down already, I see,” you roll your eyes. “See you Monday, babe.”

When you get home, you change out of your stuff work attire and into a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. You change out your jewelry for the things you prefer. You fully plan on laying on your couch with a bottle of wine on this lazy Friday night, but when you get home you realize that you finished off your favorite white last weekend. With a sigh, you go into your bedroom to change into some nicer street clothes- you would rather be caught dead than wear sweatpants and a sweatshirt out in public. At the front door, you pull on your docs, and then you’re off to the grocery store.

If you’re there now, you decide it’s best to just get your grocery shopping for the week out of the way. You grab a cart and start perusing the aisles like you usually do.

You have a few things in your cart when you find yourself in the aisle with the wines and beers, and you’re currently pouring over the selections. What would your friend want? Probably just some Yuengling. So you throw a case of that into your cart before turning to look for the wine that you love. Little do you know, Melissa is turning her cart down the aisle that you’re currently in, and she recognizes you almost immediately.

You look so starkly different than she’s used to seeing you. If she’s being honest, she’s a little thrown off with your outfit. She’s so used to seeing you in your work attire, your hair either in a neat, low bun or down. But here? This look is entirely different from what she was expecting you to be done up in outside of work. She of course knew that you wouldn’t always be dressed like a teacher, but wow. She was not expecting this. You’re in a pair of tighter, ripped black jeans, you have a tank top on, and your hair is thrown up into a stylish messy bun with a few pieces strategically pulled out to give off the appearance that it’s an effortless look (it is for you). Is that a tattoo on your shoulder that she sees? And a tattoo on your arm? How has she never noticed that before? You have a cartilage piercing, bold earrings for your first and second, and… is that a nose ring? She didn’t even know you had your nose pierced. If Melissa’s honest with herself, it only makes you that much more attractive.

You turn, satisfied with your decision, and pop the bottle into the top of your shopping cart. You make eye contact with the redhead that is practically drooling over the sight of you. You give her a shy wave, but you don’t dare to interact. Don’t mix the personal from the professional. The woman snaps out of her own trance and waves back with a curious look.

You continue down the aisles, and you think that you’re in the clear from Melissa- you acknowledged her, that’s all you had to do. She goes on her way too, but the two of you run into each other again during checkout.

“Hey there, hot stuff,” she winks at you as she starts putting her groceries up on the conveyor belt. “Never pegged you as a beer girl.”

“Hey,” you say softly, shyly. “It- it’s actually for my friend.” That also throws Melissa for a loop. At school, you’re so confident, quick to make a remark. But now, you sound like you have something caught in your throat, and you nervously tuck one of the loose strands of hair behind your ear, as if that would make you more professional looking. “I’ve never seen you around here before?”

“I usually go to the one that everyone else goes to, but they were out of my wine, so…” she gestures to it before putting it up on the belt. “It was worth the extra ten minute drive though if it means I get to see you.” She winks at you with those emerald green eyes of her, but you don’t reciprocate. You nervously worry your lip between your teeth, as if you have no idea what to say.

Melissa understands your hesitation and shrugs. The two of you stand in line together awkwardly. She’s rung up, and as she leaves, you call a gentle, “Have a good weekend, see you Monday.”

She turns and blows a kiss your way, waving flirtatiously before leaving.

Your weekend is nice. Your friend comes over, you go out to the clubs, and you almost forget about the encounter that you had with the hot redheaded second grade teacher.

The small break from work is over all too soon, and you find yourself somewhat dragging yourself into Abbott on Monday, but duty calls. You’re back to wearing your lightly colored blouse and a sweater over top to cover the tattoo that you didn’t feel like putting makeup over today, you’re back in your dress pants and flats. You didn’t even bother to do your hair, just simply brushing it and letting it cascade over your shoulders instead.

You enter the staff lounge and it’s empty, as it always is. You’re always the first one in. Whoever comes next is always a mystery, but today, it’s Melissa Schemmenti. Of course it is. Without anyone else there to buffer, you know she is absolutely going to bring up your meeting on Friday night.

“Hey there, gorgeous,” the redhead says suavely. “Have a nice weekend?”

“Yeah, babe,” you shoot out. The coffee pot dings. “You want some?”

“You know I always do,” she sighs out as she makes a move for the cabinet with the mugs inside. She grabs hers before sauntering over to you. The second grade teacher hands you the mug before cozying up to you.

“For you,” you roll your eyes as your pour the scalding hot liquid into her cup.

“Thanks, babe,” she smirks and winks. “So… when were you goin’ to tell me about this little number?” she rests a gentle hand on your shoulder- the one with the tattoo.

“What do you mean?” you chuckle.

“That tattoo,” she licks her lips.

“I forget it’s there,” you roll your eyes. “Young Y/N mistakes.” Not true at all. You love that tattoo, and most of your street clothes show it off.

“It’s sexy,” she tells you lowly. “Kinda like the ear spike and the nose ring I had no idea you had.”

“I’m a different woman outside of school, babes,” you tell her, smirk evident as you start to fix your own coffee. “Didn’t realize I had to tell you about it all.”

“You don’t,” she shrugs. “I’ll find it all out myself… little miss alt girl.”

“In your dreams,” you fire out, and you get pretty close to her.

“Oh, every night,” she challenges you and moves even closer. At this point, the two of you are nose to nose.

And wow, it wouldn’t take much more for you to-

“Good morning!” Janine bursts in through the door, not knowing what she’s walking into.

You and Melissa couldn’t jump away from each other faster. The young, energetic teacher starts to ramble on all about her weekend, and your other colleagues start to make their way in. When it comes time to watch the news, Melissa settles herself in next you. Her hand finds its way to your shoulder, and she starts to trace the outline of you tattoo. Then, you feel the redhead’s hand make its way to your arm, where the other tattoo is that she saw. You didn’t know she saw that one too. She lets her fingers lazily trace around that one as well. All of your coworkers are too enamored with what’s happening on the screen to really notice, and Melissa’s green eyes are trained on the television as well. You could not be further from what’s happening on the screen. All you can think of is Melissa, and the things that she’s doing right now are driving you crazy.

Soon though, the kids will start to trickle in, and you know you have to get to your classroom. So you head out, a flirtatious smile and wink thrown the second grade teacher’s way before you close yourself into your room. You take a deep breath, and get ready for your day.

As you’re about to make your way out of your classroom, you hear heeled boots clinking along the linoleum floor, and you know those boots belong to the redhead that’s been on your mind all day.

“Hey, babe,” you says, back turned to the door, but you know it’s her. “Come to walk me out?”

The clicking gets louder, and before you can even think, Melissa has you pinned up against your desk. You can feel the corner of it digging into your back, and then you don’t because all you can feel are her lips on yours. Instinctively, you kiss her back. It’s better than you had been dreaming of. And then she pulls back, wipes away the lipstick she left smudged, wipes her own mouth to fix her own lip, and then winks at you.

“I’m done pretending that all this flirting we do is harmless,” she says once she’s righted herself. “You, me, dinner tonight at The Capital Grille. 6, sharp.”

You don’t know what else to do other than nod.

“And don’t come dressed in your teacher outfit,” she instructs. “I want the babe that you are… Ear spike, nose ring, tattoos out.”

With that, she turns on her heel and makes her way out of your room. As she’s making her way down the hall, you hear her call over her shoulder, “Don’t miss me too much!”

So much for not mixing the personal with the professional.

#melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary fanfiction

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pathologicalreid · 5 months

Text

clue | S.R.

in which penelope hosts a new year's eve party. with a murder mystery theme.

who? spencer reid x fem!journalist!reader

category: fluff, slice of life

content warnings: all of the characters are dressed as detectives. marriage, murder, mentions of blood, fireworks, slight descriptions of fake violence, reader wears a dress, this is very haphazardly proofread. very slightly suggestive in the beginning if you squint.

word count: 2.95k

a/n: happy new year's eve friends! this idea has been rotting in my brain since i read the prompt. i started with the idea that i wanted reader and kristy to win and a dream, and now here i am. it was genuinely so much fun to write. (and now i have spencer x journalist!reader brain rot) i always see people writing for these challenges but this is my first time participating!

i wrote this for @imagining-in-the-margins' office party challenge based on the prompt "Penelope planned a Murder Mystery party... with a bunch of criminal profilers. Great. (Bonus if a non-profiler wins)" thank you so much for this challenge!

“I have no idea why Penelope felt the need to rent an AirBnB for a New Year’s Eve party,” you whispered, getting out of the car along with Spencer. “Or why we had to dress in costume,” you said, pulling your shawl over your shoulders.

Gently reaching over, Spencer tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ears, “It’s a Penelope Garcia party, that means it’s a production. Additionally, this is the first New Year's Eve we’ve been in town in four years, which means there’s no need for an MHM.”

Grinning up at your fiancé, you responded, “There does seem to be a moratorium on violent crime this holiday season.” The best Christmas gift you received this year was finding Spencer sleeping in bed next to you when you woke up.

You watched him reach into the back of the car for his jacket. The costume description Garcia had given him was similar to what he wore on a normal day. You helped him pick out the brown sweater vest and matching tie, but he selected the rest of the ensemble. “Did I tell you that you look incredible?” He asked, pulling his jacket on.

“I believe those were the words that caused us to be fifteen minutes late, Dr. Reid,” you chided but smiled nonetheless when Spencer pulled you close and embraced you.

You felt him smile against your neck, “Worth it,” he whispered.

Dragging him by the arm, you stood on the porch and knocked on the door. Almost instantly, a familiar voice rang out, “You have to use the knocker!” Penelope called out.

Sighing, you rolled your eyes and took the bronze adornment in your hand and knocked it against the red-painted door. The heavy door swung open and you were greeted by Penelope Garcia, “Welcome Dr. Reid and Someday Mrs. Reid, to the New Year’s party that will, likely, be the New Year’s party to end all New Year’s parties.”

“I have no doubt, Pen,” you stepped forward and hugged her. “You look great, I love this color,” you told her, settling your hands on your shoulders. She wore a lime green button-down dress with an old-timey collar, and her blonde locks were pulled up into a French twist.

Spencer and Penelope greeted each other, and Garcia led the two of you to a sitting room, “Where did you find this house?” Spencer asked, walking in behind you.

She waved him off, “I am the master of all things Internet, I found it online and thought it was perfect.”

Your heels clicked as you followed the two of them. They were quicker, Penelope knew where she was going and Spencer naturally had a long stride, not to mention the restriction of your gown. “Perfect for what, exactly?” You inquired.

“A BAU Murder Mystery party!” She answered as if it was obvious.

A wolf whistle from the other side of the room caught your attention, you turned around to see Tara grinning at you, “Well how about you.”

Blushing, you spread the skirt of the red silk dress out and gave a fake curtsy, “Oh this? Just something I had lying around.” In reality, you borrowed the dress from a coworker. Its only fault was being just barely too long for you.

Once you observed Tara’s costume, an off-white button-up with brown suspenders and matching pants, the gears in your head clicked into place. “We’re dressed as characters from Clue?” You asked, looking at everyone’s costumes. It all suddenly made so much sense, you were Miss Scarlet, and Tara was meant to be Colonel Mustard.

“Well, there are only so many characters to choose from, so I needed some other detectives to choose from. I picked Nancy Drew, Spencer is Sherlock Holmes with Matt as his Watson, and Krystall is Jessica Fletcher from the renowned television show Murder She Wrote.” Penelope pointed at guests as she explained their outfits, “Kristy is Daphne of the differently renowned television show Scooby Doo, and Luke refused to dress up at Hercule Poirot.”

Your eyebrows raised up, “I didn’t know not dressing up was an option,” you admitted. Despite the weather being unseasonably warm, you were still cold in your dress.

Sending a pointed look in Luke’s direction, Penelope cleared her throat before responding, “It wasn’t.”

Putting a hand to his chest in mock hurt, Luke feigned shock, “I did dress up as a very famous detective. Matt Simmons of the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit.”

“But does that really count as famous?” The man himself, Matt asked teasingly.

In response, Luke gestured around the room, “Everyone here has heard of him.”

You tuned the two of them out. When provided the time, the two of them could bicker for hours. You looked at everyone else’s costumes, the rest of the group was from the board game. Emily was Mrs. White, Rossi was Professor Plum, JJ was Mrs. Peacock, and Will was Mr. Green.

The BAU spent so much time sequestered solving crimes that it was a wonder to have the entire group here at the same time.

After effectively shushing Luke, Penelope made her way to the center of the room, “Okay, I know what you’re all thinking ‘Penelope, we spend all of our days solving murders, why would you plan a murder mystery party?’” She stood up straight, pushing her shoulders back, “Well, I’ll tell you, the idea for this party came to me when I had the flu last month.”

“Are you telling us this party was conceived from a fever dream?” Emily asked, she leaned forward in her all-white outfit, resting her elbows on her knees.

Pointing at Emily, Penelope grinned, “That is exactly what I am telling you, my dear. Now, let me set the stage for you.” She clapped and the lights went out, bringing everyone’s attention to a projector screen that had just lit up against the only bare wall in this room. “Our victim was a resident of this house. What’s her name? You might ask. Patricia Gomez, heiress to a large fortune and a company that makes socks.”

A quiet chuckle came from the other side of the room, “This is quite the fever dream.” You had to agree with Rossi, Patricia Gomez was an almost painfully uncreative name. Still, everyone went along with it.

“Save all questions until the end, please!” Penelope scolded, “I have folders made up for each of you, with information on where your characters all were at the time of the murder. Before attending this party, the killer was already notified of their status, they may try to fool you.”

You skimmed through the folder that the technical analyst had handed you, it looked like a real FBI folder, but you didn’t doubt that Garcia had resources to make realistic fake files. The body had been found, stabbed in the kitchen, the time of death set at noon.

Matt stood up first, reaching out his hand for Kristy to take, but they didn’t get far. “Oh no, no partnering with your partners,” Penelope said, laying down another rule for her party.

“What are you saying?” Spencer asked, looking between you and her. It was sweet knowing that he had wanted to team up with you, it reminded you of how you first met. The FBI profiler and the investigative journalist.

Garcia sighed, “If you are canoodling with someone, you may not investigate with them.”

You shrugged at Spencer and walked toward Kristy instead, “What do you say, Daphne? Shall we?”

“Oh, I think we shall,” Kristy responded, hooking her arm through yours.

“Hey,” Luke interrupted, “It’s not fair for the investigative journalist and the lawyer to be teamed up to solve a murder.”

Stopping in your tracks, you stared at him for a moment, “Luke, you work for the FBI. If anything, I think we’re at a disadvantage.”

Together, you and Kristy made your way to the kitchen, as you walked away you heard Luke ask Garcia to be his partner, the two of you laughed as she told him she wasn’t playing because, “Somebody has to keep things organized, Newbie!”

Looking around the kitchen, you found a chalk outline, but not much else. Of course, this wasn’t a real crime scene, there would be no blood, and for all you knew, Kristy was the killer.

“What are you thinking, Dave?” You asked Rossi, who had teamed up with JJ. Maybe a seasoned profiler would push you in the right direction.

He cocked his head like he was weighing his options, “Well, the folder says there were only four people in the building at the time of the murder, and only one of them was close enough to the kitchen to pull it off. Logically, the best option is Mrs. White.”

So, he thought Emily was responsible. You scrawled some notes down about the kitchen before you and Kristy decided to move to the bedroom, “It says Watson – Matt - was in the main bedroom at the time of the murder, Mrs. White – Emily - was in the pantry, Jessica Fletcher – Krystall – was in the basement, and Professor Plum – Rossi – was in the library,” you read from the file.

“Then Dave is right, Emily is the only one who was close enough to get to Patricia,” Kristy reasoned. There wouldn’t have been time for anyone else to commit the crime in between the time the body was found and the time of death. The timeline of events was very short.

You shrugged, “Then I guess we could probably go to the library until the timer runs out.” Picking up the skirt of your dress, the two of you left the bathroom and walked into the library. Leaning up against the shelves, you intertwined your fingers in front of you, “Do you have plans for the new year?” You asked Kristy, tilting your head.

She hummed, “A lot of our plans tend to change. You know, with Matt’s job and the kids, but we’d like to take some kind of vacation, even if it’s just a day trip.” She answered, brushing her long hair over her shoulder, “What about you?”

“Oh,” you said, “You know, getting married.” You answered, “Then we’re just planning on seeing where life takes us, I think. You’re right, it’s hard to plan around the job. I can’t imagine adding kids into the mix.” The thought gave you a whole new respect for Kristy – and Will, for that matter.

Kristy smiled, “Totally worth it, though.”

Laughing it off, you pushed yourself off of the shelving, “I think I’ll take your word for it,” you responded. “For now,” you added, looking around the library.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, following your gaze around the library.

Realizing this must be how the BAU feels all the time, you answered, “Something is bothering me about this case.” Kristy beckoned for you to go on, “They all solve crimes like this every day, so in order to make it fun for them, Penny would have to make it at least a little bit of a challenge, right?” You asked.

“You think it was too easy?” Kristy asked.

You started pacing around the library, along the front of the desk. “The answer being Emily is too easy. There has to be something more to it.”

“Well, the file says she had experienced a blow to the head shortly before her death. So, is it possible she was incapacitated somewhere else and then moved to the kitchen to be killed?” Kristy asked, flipping through the file, she was sat on top of the wooden desk.

Nodding, you looked at the generated picture of your fake victim. She wore a large ruby necklace, her hair was pinned up, but in the list of effects and evidence, a necklace was never mentioned. “Did you see a necklace in the kitchen?” You asked, flicking your eyes over in her direction.

Immediately, she shook her head you spun around to go back to the kitchen. Mid-spin the heel of your shoe hooked into the too-long fabric of your dress, causing you to tumble ungracefully to the floor. “Are you alright?” Kristy asked. Not for the first time tonight, you found yourself jealous of her shorter dress. Damned board game characters.

Groaning in response, you blinked in an attempt to reorient yourself. In your peripheral vision, something caught your eye: a necklace. “Kristy,” you whispered urgently, hoisting yourself up into a sitting position before reaching over to grab the gold chain. It was crusted with something red that you could only hope was ketchup. Unless Penelope was taking this game way too seriously.

You lifted the chain curiously. “That’s the necklace that Patricia was wearing when she died!” Kristy exclaimed, “But that means…”

“Rossi did it,” you said from the floor. “And he tried to fool us with his poker face.”

Setting the necklace on the desk, you reached down to take your heels off. Kristy spoke, “Do you think the necklace is enough evidence for us to make our case?”

Raising your eyebrows, you looked up at her, “I don’t know. You’re the lawyer, do you think it’s enough evidence?”

She nodded, “I think the evidence pointing to Emily is circumstantial, but this necklace has substance to it. And no one else has gone through the library, so at the very least we’ll have a unique answer.”

You grinned, “I like the way you think, Mrs. Simmons.” You reached out your hand and she helped you up, “Let’s go show these FBI agents how it’s done.” The two of you headed back to the sitting room.

The room was full when you got there, “Ah, I thought we were going to have to send out a search party for the two of you!” Penelope said, “Sit, sit, I’m sure we have some excellent conclusions to go through.” She handed the both of you glasses of wine before you sat down next to each other on the velvet chaise lounge.

Honestly, it reminded you of grade school. When your teacher would go through the answers on the homework, only for you to find that, somewhere, you had done something terribly wrong. By the time it got to you and Kristy, half of the people said it was Emily, almost half had said it was Matt, and one person said it was Kristy.

Nonetheless, the two of you stood up and announced your conclusion, “it was Rossi,” you said in unison.

“First, we met with David in the kitchen, and we asked him what he thought,” you said. “He could’ve said no, he could’ve said something else, but he told us how he thought Emily Prentiss was the killer.” You explained, “Now, as extremely professional detectives, we know that frequently, killers can’t help but insert themselves into the investigations.”

Lifting her hand in a waiting gesture, Kristy continued, “But we heard him out, and we trusted his conclusion. Until we didn’t, that is.” She said, “After some more expert investigation, we went to the library, where Rossi had claimed to have been at the time of the murder. It was there that my partner discovered the victim's necklace. It was broken as if it had been torn off of her neck, and there was blood on the chain.”

“This is combined with the report that the victim had experienced a blow to the head before she died, which could’ve easily been inflicted by the corner of the very desk I discovered the necklace beneath,” you resumed. “We propose that David Rossi, otherwise known as Professor Plum, incapacitated the victim in the library, before moving her to the kitchen so he could claim he had no part in her death.”

Rossi looked up at Penelope, who grinned and nodded, “I didn’t even realize I had done that in the kitchen earlier. Are you by chance looking for a new line of work?” He asked, getting a chorus of laughter in response.

“For my two winners,” Garcia said, her smile still bright as she draped two medals around your and Kristy’s necks. “Thank you, everyone, so much for playing this game. I know it’s hard to see it as a game when it all feels so real, but I appreciate you for separating fact and fiction for tonight.”

It was Luke who responded first, “Of course.”

“But maybe,” Rossi said, raising his wine glass in his hand, “Maybe next year we’ll just do a normal party.”

Tara raised her glass in response, “If you’re hosting, I’m attending.”

You nodded, concurring, “Far be it from me to miss a BAU party.”

Behind you, Spencer loosely wrapped his arm around your waist, “It’s almost the new year.”

“Aha!” Penelope said, “I have one last surprise for all of my favorite people! If you’ll just follow me out to the deck, we’ll be able to see the fireworks from here!”

Outside, the cool air bit at your bare skin. Ever the gentleman, Spencer draped his jacket over your shoulders. Grateful for the warmth, you pushed your arms through the sleeves and turned to face him, “You know, we’ve been together for years, but this will be our first New Year’s kiss.” You said, studying his face, every detail that you’ve come to know over the past few years.

Distantly, you heard the rest of the group counting down, but you were too focused on Spencer. “It won’t be our last, though,” he promised.

You grinned up at him, “As long as we get to go to the BAU party, Sherlock.”

“Of course,” he whispered, leaning down to press his lips to yours. “Happy New Year, Miss Scarlett.”

685 notes · View notes

imagining-in-the-margins · 5 months

Text

CM Office Party Fics 🎉

Hey everyone! Thank you so much to everyone who participated. I am so happy to share everyone’s hard work. If you have a oneshot or masterlist you’d like me to add, please send me a message - new additions are always welcome.

SFW Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Inexperienced by me: Virgin!Reader has a secret no one expected, least of all Spencer. She’s a virgin… in every way.

Dancing with the Doctor by @smalltownbeautyqueen: After hearing the BAU's prom stories, Garcia decides to throw her own BAU prom.

Gift Exchange by @ssahopelessly: It’s time for the Secret Santa gift exchange at the BAU.

Secret Santa by @c-m-stuff: Reader and Spencer are together for Secret Santa.

Better for You by @incognit0slut: Spencer spends the change of year with a new resolution as he starts looking at his rival differently.

Clue by @pathologicalreid: A fic in which Penelope hosts a NYE party with a murder mystery theme.

Mistletoe's for Two by @andiebeaword: At the annual Christmas party, Spencer gets caught under the mistletoe by the woman he didn’t want to kiss.

More ratings and pairings below!

NSFW (18+) Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Prom Night by @foxy-eva: After everyone shared their sad (or non-existent) prom stories, Penelope decided to host a BAU Prom, giving Spencer the perfect excuse to finally ask out Reader.

Funhouse Mirror by me: SSA Reader promised Spencer he’d be surprised by her costume of the Doctor for the Halloween Party. He definitely was.

Kiss ’n Tell by me: Reader gets drunk on a night out with the girls and accidentally mimics her boyfriend’s habit of oversharing.

Unhappy Holidays by @reiderwriter: Reader runs into Spencer at holiday celebrations four years in a row, including this NYE.

Always Bet on Black by @reidmotif: Reader realizes she has an advantage at the Bureau's Casino Night, when Spencer can't seem to take his eyes off her and her dress.

Never Have I Ever by me: After a case involving kink culture, Spencer is assigned to judge the girls’ game of Never Have I Ever. Later, him and Reader compare scores.

Other/Fem!Reader (SFW)

Somewhere I Belong by @0and0its0doctor0: (Hotch) Hotch has a little liquid courage and breaks the rules.

When Snorter Does the Unexpected by @alluring-andrayav: (Derek) It's Derek's birthday, and he receives an unexpected gift.

Other Pairings & Gen Fic (SFW)

All is Bright by @masterwords: (Hotchgan) After a long series of failed dates, Hotch and Morgan finally come to their senses thanks to some well-placed mistletoe.

Talk of the Town by @/masterwords: (Hotchgan) Hotch has an invite to a Christmas party at the White House and he's asking Derek to be his plus one.

October by @gaelic-symphony: (Temily) The couple spends Halloween together.

November by @/gaelic-symphony: (Temily) The couple spends Thanksgiving together.

So Just Keep Kissing Me Under the Mistletoe [AO3] by @starzzyeyed : (Hotchreid) Spencer's dreading the BAU's christmas party for many reasons; not least because it means spending time off duty with his boss.

Happy Hotch Day by @codename-mom: (Platonic) Penelope wants to cheer her boss up as he still suffers from what Foyet did to him. The team prepares a surprise for him.

It's a Piece of Cake by @/codename-mom: (Platonic) Jack is turning six and Penelope wants to do something for the occasion.

The Sweater Case by @/codename-mom: (Platonic) The FBI organizes a gala with all the agency directors in the country. Hotch doesn't want to go.

Happy Reading!

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #spencer reid smut #criminal minds smut #criminal minds challenge #criminal minds women #criminal minds fanfic #temily #hotchgan #hotchreid #heid #criminal minds gen fic #gen fic #cm writing challenge #fanfic rec #fic recs

833 notes · View notes

babybluebex · 10 months

Note

def write more best friends dad!cillian orrrr maybe you can dip ur toes into dads best friend!cillian??? i feel like that would be awesome!

here you go, lovelies, the long awaited dad's best friend!cillian! enjoy! warnings for smut (oral f!receiving, fingering), age gap (cillian is 46, reader is in her 20s)

The moment you surfaced from the water, you felt his gaze on you. You had known Mr. Murphy for years, for long enough for him to insist that you call him Uncle Cillian (although you didn’t, but you were never sure why), and his bright blue eyes were hard to miss, especially when they were fixated on you.You swiped the droplets of chlorinated water from your eyes as you looked around for him, dodging the various people that were in your backyard. It was a hot Saturday evening, and your parents were putting on a little summer party to celebrate you being home from college; of course, Mr. Murphy was invited, and you had briefly greeted him when he arrived a few hours before, before you got in the pool. But now, you felt him watching you, and you found him standing by the back door that led into your kitchen.

You watched as he averted his eyes, obviously having been caught looking, and he slipped inside your house quickly. You scrunched up your eyebrows in confusion at his hasty exit, and you swam to the edge of the pool, tugging yourself up and out. Your towel laid nearby, and you quickly dried off and wrapped it around your waist as you padded barefoot by your dad. “Don’t track water into the house,” he told you as you passed, and you absently nodded, still intent on following Mr. Murphy inside.

You found him all alone in the kitchen, standing with his back to the door, leaning against the island, sipping at his beer. He had his phone in his hand, scrolling too quickly to really be looking at anything on his screen, and you purposefully opened the fridge louder than usual to get him to look at you. “What’re you doing in here?” you asked playfully when he looked at you, his paralyzing blue eyes scanning your body, from your soaked hair to the almost-too-small white bikini top you wore. “Don’t you know the party’s out there?”

Mr. Murphy shrugged. “Got hot outside,” he said. “And I know where your dad keeps the good beer.”

You nodded, not really believing him, and you pulled out a can of soda and shut the fridge door with your hip. “Well, wearing sweaters and shit probably doesn’t help with the heat,” you said, reaching out for the corner of his navy cardigan. “You should’ve brought your swim trunks, you could’ve gotten in the pool with me.”

“Ah,” Mr. Murphy scoffed. “Nobody wants to see me parading around in my bathing suit. I’m too old and out of shape for that.”

“As if,” you said. “You look fine, don’t stress too much.”

“Thanks, love,” Mr. Murphy said softly. “Sorry, I’ve just… Ever since the divorce, I haven’t really felt like myself.”

Ah, right. The divorce. Your parents and The Murphys had been friends since they were your age— you had seen the scrapbook pictures of college-aged versions of your dad and Cillian getting up to no good— and you had to admit that you were always a little closer to Aunt Yvonne (not to say you didn’t like Mr. Murphy, because you did, but you always liked Aunt Yvonne more). When you were at college and your dad offhandedly mentioned on the phone one night that Yvonne and Cillian were separating, you had frowned. “Is Yvonne okay?” you asked. “What happened?”

“I’ve only talked to Cillian about it,” your dad had told you. “And he hasn’t said much. People just grow apart, I guess.”

You screwed up your mouth at the mention of the mysterious divorce, and you popped the tab of your soda. “That’s okay,” you told him. “You just need to find someone new.”

“Really?” Mr. Murphy asked. “A rebound? Is that how you deal with breakups?”

“Well, yeah,” you shrugged. “Whenever I get sad about my ex or whatever, I just go find someone else to focus on for a little while.”

“First of all, that’s not healthy,” Mr. Murphy chuckled. “Second… I don’t know, I was married for 20 years. I have two kids. I can’t just go find a girl at a bar and hook up with her and expect to get over it.”

“I don’t know, man,” you mumbled. “Just trying to help, I guess.”

“I appreciate that,” Mr. Murphy said. “You’ve always been a sweet girl.”

Oh. Oh no. You felt a stirring in your lower belly when he said that, one that made heat flood your bikini bottoms, and you shifted your weight on your feet as you nervously sipped your soda. You had to admit that Mr. Murphy, with his high cheekbones and greying hair and brilliant eyes, was quite attractive, exactly your type, and you had considered fucking him before, but, because of Aunt Yvonne, you had pushed down that desire and pretended it didn’t exist. It was just a fantasy about your dad’s best friend; that wasn’t that uncommon, was it?

“So,” he started before you could think anymore. “How’s college?”

You shrugged. “Fine, I guess,” you said. “Classes are okay, but exams are hard as hell.”

“Oh, yeah?” Mr. Murphy said softly. “Any boys catch your eye?”

“Honestly, not really,” you said. “They’re all kind of… Eh, I guess. I don’t like any of them the way I—” You cut yourself off before you could finish your sentence, the way I like you, and you stammered, “I-I should.”

“What’s wrong with them?” Mr. Murphy asked. “I mean, I know college boys can be dumb, but what’s wrong?”

“They’re just not mature enough,” you said softly. You set down your drink and wrapped your arms around your middle, and you added, “I don’t want to worry that my boyfriend will do some stupid shit on a night out. And they just, umm, don’t do things the way I want them to.”

Mr. Murphy wrinkled his eyebrows in confusion, also setting down his drink, and he leaned his hip against the kitchen island. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“Well…” you started. “Boys my age don’t, like… Whenever I’ve hooked up with a guy, I’ve always asked him to do certain stuff, and he never does. At least not well.”

“Wait,” Mr. Murphy said. “Are you telling me that the boys you go out with don’t go down on you?”

Your skin prickled at the sound of those words coming out of his mouth, and you eyed him suspiciously before you cleared your throat. “Um, not really,” you said. “Like, they do it, but never well.”

“Oh, darling,” Mr. Murphy sighed. “You need to find a really good guy that’ll do that. And he’ll treat you like the princess that you are; don’t ever let a man do anything less.”

You huffed out a laugh. “Thanks, Mr. Murphy,” you said softly.

He smiled softly, tilting his chin down to look at you, and he said, “Now, how many times have I told you to call me Cillian?”

Your heart skipped in your chest, and you mumbled, “A-A few.”

“And yet, you don’t,” Cillian said. “Why not? You called my wife Yvonne, why not me by my name?”

“I don’t know,” you said. “I never felt like I was close enough to you to really… Deserve to call you that.”

Cillian took a step towards you, then hesitated, then reached out for you. You expected him to grab your hands or touch your shoulders, but his fingers tucked in the towel around your waist. He waited for a moment before he slowly unraveled it from your body, and his eyes hungrily took in the sight of your legs. “Wow,” he whispered. “I knew that you would be so beautiful…”

“Cillian?” you said gently, nervously looking over your shoulder to the outside door, where everybody else was still outside. “Wh-What if someone sees?”

“Sees what?” Cillian asked. He set your towel on the counter, taking a step closer to you. “We’re not doing anything.”

“Yeah, but…” you started. “But—”

“If you want me to do something, all you have to do is ask,” Cillian told you. “But ask nicely.”

You swallowed thickly. “I-I don’t even know what I want,” you told him. “I’ve thought about this, sure, but…”

“Do you want me to go down on you?” Cillian asked. “Just say the magic word, love.”

You blinked, fluttering your eyelashes at him, and you softly said, “Please?”

Cillian’s face softened, and he took your hips in his grasp, pulling you close to him. He gently moved you to the counter and helped you jump up on it, and he buried his face in your neck and took a deep breath as his fingers danced at the ties on your bikini bottom. “Sweet girl,” he whispered. “How long have you wanted this?”

“Umm…” you started, and your breath caught in your throat when he deftly undid your ties, pulling your wet bottoms from your skin. “A long time.”

“Yeah?” Cillian breathed, and he carefully moved down to kneel on the ground in front of you, his face level with your pussy. You felt almost shy as he looked at you, and you wiggled on the countertop as his dull fingernails pressed into the flesh of your thigh. “And how long has it been since you’ve had sex?”

“A few weeks,” you told him. “I haven’t since I moved back home.”

“Oh, you’re dying for it, aren’t you?” Cillian cooed softly. “Your little vibrator isn’t enough, right?”

“No,” you breathed. Cillian leaned forward and littered soft kisses on the inside of your thighs, coming close to where you wanted him but never landing exactly there. He was teasing you, the bastard. Your hand left the counter and curled in his salt and pepper hair, urging him closer to your pussy, and he smiled, looking up at you with those brilliant eyes. You felt shocked, like his gaze was electric, and Cillian sighed heavily, focusing back down between your legs.

“You’re so pretty, baby,” he whispered, his warm breath fanning across your core. “My sweet girl…” Then, before he could say more, he pressed forward, touching his lips to your pussy. You jolted in surprise, letting out a quick laugh to try to ease your nerves, and he chuckled lightly. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” you said softly. “Just… Nervous.”

“Why’re you nervous?” Cillian asked, smoothing his hands up your legs to rest on your back.

“If someone catches us—” you started, and Cillian furrowed his eyebrows, shaking his head.

“They won’t,” he told you.

“But if they do?” you countered.

“But they won’t,” Cillian said firmly. “Ease up, love, just enjoy this. Let me take care of you.”

“O-Okay,” you said softly. Your fingers rested against the back of his head as he continued to kiss all over you, and he finally put his mouth right where you wanted him to, almost like you had led him there. His tongue darted out to taste you, playing gently with your soft clit, and you closed your eyes blissfully, letting the wet warmth of his mouth overtake you. “Fuck, Cill…”

“That’s it,” Cillian whispered, and his lips captured your clit, sucking on it for a brief moment, just long enough for you to moan softly, and he broke away. His tongue ran a thick line up your wet cunt, tasting you from throbbing hole to quivering clit, and he went back to your hole, teasing you with the tip of his tongue.

You clenched your teeth to keep from being too loud, and you watched Cillian eat your pussy like he was starving for it, lapping up your wetness and sucking eagerly at every inch of flesh that he could get his mouth on. He held you tightly, yet tenderly, wanting all of you that you would give him, and the warmth of an orgasm began to build in your belly. God, that was quick, but you suppose that Cillian had years of experience. He knew what he was doing, far better than any kid from your sociology class could do. “Cill,” you whispered, and he looked at you through his eyelashes, shocking your system again. “Fuck!”

“What is it, baby?” he asked softly. His fingers itched to your pussy, lighting trailing up and down your slit, and you whined as you felt an intense and sudden need.

“Want you,” you mumbled.

“What do you want?” Cillian asked.

“Anything,” you panted, jolting your hips again at his light teasing. “Everything.”

“Unless you have a condom,” Cillian started with a laugh. “I’m not having proper sex with you. I’ll do this and finger you and everything else, but…”

“Why not?” you asked. “Are you worried that I…?”

“No, I’m not worried about that,” Cillian said. “I know you don’t have anything, it’s not that. I just… I don’t want there to even be a chance that you could… That we could…”

“I don’t understand,” you said, looking down at him through half-open lids.

“I don’t wanna knock you up,” Cillian said quickly, as if saying it quickly would lessen its impact. “And I’m not going to fuck you if I don’t have a condom, because, once I get inside you, I know I won’t be able to control myself from cumming inside you.”

“Oh,” you said softly. “It’s not a… An Irish Catholic thing?”

That made Cillian laugh. “You know, just because ‘Irish Catholic’ is a thing doesn’t mean that all Irish people are Catholics—”

“No, no, I know,” you said quickly. “Sorry, just checking.”

Cillian smiled softly, laughing gently at you, and his fingers gently touched your hole, waiting for you to do something in response. You sighed, flexing your hips down to urge his fingers inside you, and he did as you requested, pressing his middle finger past your flesh and inside you. You gasped at the feeling, loving him so deep, and you mumbled, “Cill…”

“I know, love,” Cillian said, placing a soft kiss to your clit. “Does it feel good?”

“So good,” you whimpered. Cillian began to slowly thrust his finger inside you, moving gently as he sucked lightly on your clit, and you gasped quickly. “Cill! Oh my God!”

“That’s it, lovely,” Cillian said. He pushed his second finger in, pausing to let you adjust to the feeling of it, and then he started up a relentless pace, fucking you quickly on his fingers as his mouth and tongue explored your pussy. “God, you’re so tight, s’good…”

The heat inside you was becoming too much, tingling even down in your toes as it grew in your belly, and you whimpered and let out a cracked moan as his fingers hooked up inside you, brushing that sensitive nerve. “Cill!” you yelped, your hand flying down to grab at his wrist, as if that would stop his quick fucking. “Oh my God, I’m gonna cum!”

“Mhm,” Cillian hummed, burying his face fully into you. “Let it out, baby.”

You whined high in your throat, everything becoming all too overwhelming, and your legs shook as the heat burst in your belly. Your head fell back as you moaned, maybe a little too loud, and Cillian fucked you through it, whispering out “Yes, love, you’re so good, you’re such a good girl for me.” You tugged on his hair as your orgasm crashed through you, trying to keep him right where he was but also pull him away all at the same time, and Cillian smiled into your pussy, letting his tongue linger a bit at your throbbing hole. “Now,” he started softly. “Was that better than what you’re used to?”

“Yeah,” you sighed. You looked down at him, still kneeling on the floor, and you brushed back his hair out of his eyes gently before he started to stand up. “Thanks.”

“Of course, love,” Cillian said. He grimaced a bit as he stood, mumbling out something about that damn knee, and he added, “When’re you going back to university?”

“Not for a few months,” you said. “It’s summer break.”

“That’s nice,” Cillian said. “Well, erm… I’d like to see you again.”

“Oh, yeah?” you chuckled. You slid off of the counter and retrieved your bottoms, and you did the ties back up as you tried to stand on your shaking and weak legs. Jesus, he really did a number on you. “When?”

Cillian took his drink back into his hand and sipped at it for a moment, thinking hard. “Well,” he began. “Whenever you’re free. I’m at your mercy, love.”

“Right,” you said, laughing softly. “I’ll let you know.”

At that moment, the door to the backyard creaked open, and your heart stopped as your dad came into the kitchen. “There you two are,” he said. “I thought you were still outside.”

“No, I cornered her to ask about school,” Cillian chuckled, and he looked at you. “Remember what I said: school first, parties later. Right?” He winked at you, and you huffed out a laugh.

“Yeah, sure,” you smiled. “Whatever you say, Cillian.”

#bex answers #anon ask #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy rpf #dad's best friend!cillian

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frankenkyle19 · 6 months

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I Bet I Could Scare You

Word count: 3k

Tate Langdon x reader smut

description/warnings: smut with little plot, fingering (barely), handjob, p in v sex, unprotected sex, Emotional Tate because he’s a psycho 24/7 and I think that’s it. This is based off a recent dream I had. Oh also barely proofread so there’s probably (definitely) mistakes.

You had a long time fascination with the infamous Murder House. You couldn’t help it! Curious beyond belief about what the walls held inside, you had been planning ways to get into it for weeks now. It was currently sitting abandoned, a few window panes broken and Ivy beginning to grow over the bricks, trailing across it in waves of green. It looked absolutely beautiful, an aura of mystery and danger seemed to surround the place, but it just intrigued you more. What was that saying? Oh right. Curiosity killed the cat.

Curious by nature, you couldn’t just not explore the house, having started with scoping out the perimeter, looking out for other people as you adventured around the side, finding your way into the backyard and exploring further. There was a beautiful gazebo set up in the backyard but as pretty as it was, the second you approached it, you felt an unexplainable sorrow, something that burrowed deep into your bones and left an ache in your chest.

When you finally built up the nerve, you went inside. Stepping over the threshold of the door, a chill settled against you as you wrapped your arms around yourself in an attempt to warm.

That day you didn’t stay long, not even venturing upstairs to see what was hidden up there. You also didn’t go into the basement either. You left after only looking around on the ground floor, hearing what sounded like a whistle down the hall and practically running back out the door, not looking back.

That was until curiosity got the better of you. You found yourself standing in the doorway once more before stepping inside, hands clenched tightly at your sides.

Today was the day you’d finally explore the rest of the house. Deciding that upstairs was probably less creepy of a start than the basement, you made your way up the stairs that creaked with each step. You winced at each minute sound, practically holding your breath as you finally reached the top steps.

You wiped the cold sweat that had formed on your brow before continuing. Each door was thankfully open so you could see inside without having to open them individually. This was a beautiful house, and from the looks of it, the previous owners had just… abandoned everything and left. Weird, but you’d have to question that later. Maybe they died here? The question lingered in the back of your mind but you didn’t focus on it for too long when you heard shifting and what sounded like footsteps downstairs.

Had someone followed you in?

Swallowing hard, you peeked down the staircase, seeing what appeared to be just the outline of a man. He didn’t appear threatening, but of course you had no real clue. He seemed to be dressed in an oversized sweater and ripped jeans. He had dirty blond hair and honestly seemed to be around your age. Was he some dumb boy who had seen you wander in here and decided to follow you to either scare you or… perhaps do something worse?

Against your better judgment you began to creep down the large staircase, following the man just out of sight. You felt a need to keep your eyes on him. Like he’d disappear if you so much as blinked. The longer you followed him around the abandoned house, the more you realized that this was quite literally the dumbest thing you’d ever done. How everyone died in horror movies. Jesus, how stupid could you be?

Finally, you saw him walk to the entrance of the basement and go down the steps. That was it. You were not going down there. You made your way to the top of the stairs and looked down into unending darkness, trying to squint your eyes to see into it with no luck. You turned around to finally get out of there when you crashed into the chest of someone. A man. The man you’d been following for the past ten minutes.

His chocolatey brown eyes met yours with a softness you hadn’t expected from them. No matter, you let out a shrill scream, backing up away from the boy before nearly falling down the basement steps. In fact you would have fallen down them and probably broken your neck if he hadn’t reached out a hand to catch you. His hand was cold to the touch as it wrapped around your wrist and you noticed just how pale he was in comparison. A ghostly white..

He used his free hand that wasn’t gripping your wrist to cover your mouth to stop the scream that bubbled up from your throat. The noise died in your throat as you looked at him with a mix of shock and absolute fear. There was literally no one else here, this man could easily kill you if he wanted to.

You blinked a few times, trying to steady your breathing as he carefully tugged you away from the stairs to safety before letting go of you all together, giving you space.

“What’re you doing here?” He asked, tone accusatory as he furrowed his brows in a gentle manner.

“I could ask you the same thing-“ You replied, raising a brow as a frown settled on your features.

The boy opened his mouth to speak before pausing. Telling you wouldn’t prove to be easy, and you may even laugh at him in disbelief.

“I live around here-“ He lied. Well… was it really a lie if he had lived here? In this very house? Years ago..

“My name’s Tate.” He continued, looking at you expectantly as if this was some sort of normal, everyday interaction.

You told him your name, against better judgment, feeling drawn to him in an odd, messed up way. There was a sort of darkness in him. One similar to what lived inside of you.

“Pretty.” He said offhandedly, seeming completely unbothered by the whole entire situation. What a strange being he was..

You shrugged at his comment, rolling your eyes a bit. If he was trying to flirt with you, it definitely wasn’t going to work. You didn’t get the hots for random people that followed you into an abandoned house… Despite how.. Cute they might be.

Part of you questioned how exactly Tate appeared behind you so fast despite having seen him just walk down the steps in front of you. It sat in the back of your brain and you knew something about it all wasn’t right. The only problem was Tate was so charming you didn’t want to believe anything was wrong. You just wanted to stay blissfully oblivious for as long as possible.

And that’s exactly what you did. Over the coming weeks you and Tate grew closer, much to your surprise, and despite having a suspicion that he wasn’t exactly who he said he was, you decided to ignore it for now and just enjoy having him around.

You knew something was up when he said he could only meet in the house. Not around the neighborhood or anywhere else. You knew then… You knew it but you didn’t want to face the fact that maybe the person you were talking to wasn’t exactly… Alive.

It was a hard concept to grasp at first, I mean.. One of your only friends just so happened to be a ghost? How does one just go about their life after learning that kind of information? You’d always believed in ghosts but you never knew they could be so… real. So apparent and able to communicate with you..

Today when you walked into the murder house, something was different. It was as if the spirits that resided there now knew what you had discovered about them, and they didn’t seem too happy about it.

Suspiciously you couldn’t find Tate. He wasn’t in the living room or kitchen like usual when the two of you would meet up and some searching around the house left you empty handed. It was as if he disappeared.

With your only other option being the basement you made your way to the steps, swallowing back your anxiety as you tried to control your breathing. You stared down into the nothingness once more and just contemplated on if you should walk out of the house and never come back, knowing he wouldn’t be able to follow.

You took a step towards the first stair when you paused, feeling a presence behind you. Without turning around you knew exactly who it was.

You felt breathing against your neck and a cold hand brush against your own. He didn’t say anything, just stayed like that, waiting for you to speak.

“T-Tate?” You whispered, shivering at the feeling of him breathing down your neck. You were a bit uncomfortable but only because he was acting so different from his usual self.

“You know.” Was all he said, tone almost sounding hurt as he pulled away just a bit to cut all contact with your body.

Whipping around, you made eye contact with the boy, his own eyes dark and filled with a sort of sadness that you didn’t quite understand. A longing and a disappointment.

Your stomach dropped at his words. You know. About him being a ghost? Well, that was true. But how did he know? Had you been that obvious?

You nodded slowly, never once breaking contact with his eyes, yours staring into his soul. “Mhm, I do.. I-“ You were at a loss for words, what exactly was there to say because you were completely stumped.

“How?” Tate asked. You didn’t like how he used very few words, compared to his talkative self that could never seem to shut up. This Tate was different, darker.

“I figured it out- it wasn’t- that hard.” You said, fidgeting with your hands nervously

“You’re always so cold, you won’t meet me anywhere besides this house? The way you appeared behind me at the top of the stairs that first day I met you? I put it all together, Tate.”

Tate nodded, contemplating what to say.

“You’re smarter than I thought.”

You weren’t sure if you should take that as a compliment or an insult, because it sure sounded like the latter.

“Thanks,” you replied, snarky. Your breathing had luckily calmed but the second he took a step forward it sped up again.

“Are you scared of me?”

“No.”

“I bet I could scare you.” He took another step towards you.

What exactly did he mean by that?

You stood your ground as he towered over you, bodies almost flush against each other as you slowly looked up and met his eyes once more.

He leaned down and captured your lips with his, kissing you softly. Despite the ghostly chill that rolled off of him, his lips were surprisingly warm and soft against your own and you found yourself closing your eyes and kissing back.

Tate deepened the kiss, wrapping his arms around you as he gently ran his thumb down the small of your back, reveling in the way you arched away from the feeling closer to his chest.

“I’ve wanted to do this since I saw you.” Tate whispered, leaning down and peppering kisses against your neck

A quiet moan slipped past your lips as you felt him gently grind his hips against you, the beginnings of a hard on definitely felt even through all your layers of clothing.

You cursed under your breath as you pulled Tate up for another kiss, nipping at his bottom lip which caused him to whine softly. Were you really going to do this? Sleep with a ghost? The answer was hell yes.

You two tugged at each other's clothes as the kisses intensified tenfold, each trying to pull the other to the couch.

You pushed Tate back against the couch before climbing onto his lap, kissing him eagerly as your hands roamed his clothed chest.

Tate’s hands wrapped around to grip at your ass, pulling you closer to him as he arched up into you, rubbing his clothed erection against your already soaked pants.

He managed to get your shirt up and off of you before working on your bra, and much to your surprise he actually managed to get it off with little struggle. Hm. So not his first time, okay. You’d keep that in mind.

You then struggled to get his shirt up and off him before tossing it onto the floor, hands coming to run across his now bare chest, reveling in the way his muscles moved against your hands.

Tate flipped the two of you over, getting on top of you and beginning to shimmy your pants down your legs and off your body, eyes widening at the wet spot in your panties.

“Are you a virgin?” He asked, panting as he fumbled with his belt before pulling it off and managing to get his jeans halfway down his thighs.

You furrowed your brows a bit. What an odd question..?

“Uh- no? Are you?” You decided to ask, but from the way he acted you presumed he wasn’t.

And just like you had expected Tate shook his head no, pulling you closer as he ripped your panties off in one harsh tug.

The fabric ripped from your skin hard, leaving a mark but you were too desperate to even worry about it at the moment.

“No I’m not you’re just- so wet-“ He panted, using his middle and first finger to part your folds, reveling in the way your slick coated his fingers.

“Well of course I am-“ you chuckled. Was he not familiar with how the female body worked? Maybe not.

You moaned softly as he thrust one finger into you, your home greedily sucking him in, to the knuckle and when he curled his finger upwards just the slightest bit, you were arching into the touch, desperate pleas leaving your lips for more. More more more.

Tate chuckled, shaking his head “patience.” Yeah okay, screw that.

You pulled him down for another kiss as you dragged his boxers off of him, taking him into your hand and slowly stroking him to full hardness.

A quiet whine slipped from his lips as he pulled away just enough from your lips to make eye contact with you, urging his hips forward until his tip slid across your entrance, collecting some of your slick.

“Patience, remember?” You teased, brow raised as you chuckled softly, helping to guide him to your entrance before he pushed into you.

The slight pain from him stretching you out was a welcomed feeling which soon faded and turned into pleasure. He filled you up perfectly and you were able to feel each and every ride and bump of his cock.

Tate gripped onto your shoulders as he gave an experimental thrust, looking you over to make sure you weren’t in any pain.

“N-not hurting you, am I?” He asked, swallowing hard as he looked between the two of you, watching as your hole greedily swallowed his cock.

You gently cupped his cheek, pulling him down closer to you. You felt his hot breath against your cheek as he leaned into your palm.

“No, Tate. Feels so good- you feel so fucking good inside me, baby.” You groaned out and this seemed to trigger something inside of him because he steadied himself once more before pulling almost all the way out and slamming himself back in, balls slapping against your skin as he hit a spot inside you that made you seize up.

He seemed to like this reaction out of you because he did it again and again and again. Each time the air was knocked out of your lungs and you kept making pathetic little whines as he fucked you.

“‘Mine,” He growled as he thrust into you “All mine.” His tone was harsh but also a sense of desperation was hidden inside it as well.

Your bodies rocked against each other, the air around you thick with the scent of sex and surely the other ghosts were not very happy with the two of you, but you couldn’t care less right now, you just knew you never wanted Tate to stop fucking you.

You clutched onto his shoulders, digging your nails into his skin, leaving marks that would soon disappear thanks to him being a ghost. Much to your dismay though. You’d love to see him all marked up.

Tate’s thrusts became uneven quite quickly as his body trembled, his eyes giving you a look that said more than any words could. He was close.

You reached down and circled your clit with your fingers, arching up and pushing his cock deeper inside you, practically hitting your service and a twinge of pain spiked through you, a shock to your senses but it also seemed to intensify the pleasure tenfold.

“Fuck- Tate I’m close-“ You groaned out, your hips rocking against each others as he pounded into you, burying his face into the crook of your neck as he cried out, biting down onto your shoulder to conceal his grunts and groans.

You felt warmth burst inside you and by the way Tate froze, bucking weakly a few more times before nearly collapsing on you, you knew he had come. The feeling of his warmth filling you and how he replaced your fingers with his own, circling your clit roughly, you came, squeezing around him and milking him for all he had.

Tate gasped, wincing a bit at the over sensitivity that took hold of him in mere seconds after his release.

He pulled out of you and he panted before collapsing next to you on the couch, chest rising and falling heavily.

You pulled him into your arms, peppering kisses across his face as the two of you came down from your high.

A quiet chuckle bubbled up your throat until you could contain it no longer and begin to laugh almost hysterically, causing Tate to look at you, concerned.

“What? What’s so funny?” He asked. Surely you weren’t laughing at him?

“I just-“ You tried to say through your fits of laughter.

“I just had sex with a ghost.” You laughed, wiping the tears that had formed in your eyes.

Tate gave you a blank stare before nodding.

“Yup. Yeah you sure did.”

#evan peters #evan peters icons #american horror story #ahs fandom #tate langdon #tate langdon headcanon #tate langdon x reader #tate ahs #tate langdon smut #american horror murder house #murder house #ahs murder house

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imasoftieforbarb · 7 months

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Clay introducing you as his fiancé

Branch, Bruce and John Dory had just reunited with their brother Clay

“Clay this is my girlfriend Poppy-!”

Poppy rushed forward to hug Clay, before quickly letting go and nervously rambling in front of one of her idols

“Hi Clay! It’s so nice to meet you!… could you do the rusty robot for me?”

Clay awkwardly refused but decided to give it a go after seeing her slight embarrassment

“That’s still pretty fun” Poppy said, more relaxed now

“Yup same old Clay” JD said giving his brother a knowing look

“Noooo- that’s not true, if I was still fun would I have chosen the admin house as my bed room” Clay pointed towards a tiny shack that was slightly isolated from everyone else

“Eh? Eh?” He said, knowing he’d won the argument

Viva then stepped forward

“Yeah- but Y/n’s gonna make you move to her house cause, let’s be honest that’s way to small for the both of you”

“Y/n? Who’s Y/n?” Bruce asked looking at Clay who seemed to radiate happiness at the mention of this mysterious person

“Oh! I’ll go get her!” Clay ran off towards a golf statue of a frog as his brothers looked at each other with confusion

Soon, Clay returned with another troll in tow, she seemed to be wearing a matching sweater dress instead of a romper

“Y/n these are my brothers- Spruce who goes by Bruce now, John Dory and Branch!”

“oh you’re his brothers?! That’s so cool- come here gimmie a hug or high-five!”

She went around the group giving hugs and high-fives to those who wanted them

When she reached Poppy she instigated a handshake that they both seemed to know off by heart

“What just happened?” Poppy whispered to Branch who shrugged his shoulders

“And guys this is Y/n- my fiancé”

Shocked silence before congratulations were shouted from everyone in the group

“When did this happen?” Bruce said laughing slightly

Im gonna do a part 2 of this

Bug 🐞

#brozone #brozone x reader #trolls band together #brozone clay #brozone clay x reader #trolls clay #trolls clay x reader

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sachiko1309 · 7 months

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Daddy's girl

Summary: Carlisle just taking care of his little girl, while they are chaperoning a school trip

This is part of a story I write on Wattpad, as I am conviced this man needs more attention. Its called "Save Haven - Carlise Cullen". Feel free to hop over, my account name is in my description. 🥰

Word count: 3667

Warnings: period sex, daddy kink (sorry, it got the best of me 😏), praise kink, description of blood, general warning for the vampire daddy himself

Minors DNI! This contains adult content

It had been a draining day. Misses Harrison insisted on going the whole hike she planned out even though it was raining all morning. When we came back, I was drenched to the bones, shaking like a dry leave in the wind. And to all abundance, my period decided to come a few days early. So, I was fighting the whole hike against the cold, while my stomach tried to kill me. Back in the cabin, I let Bella hop into the shower first, because she looked even worse than I did. The Cullens were finished with changing their clothes so fast, I didn’t even realize they left.

When it was my turn, I pealed myself out of the wet clothes, groaning at the pain shooting through me. All I wanted was to crawl in my bed and forget the world even existed. Luckily, Carlisle was able to talk Misses Harrison out of her collective plan for the evening, convincing her smaller house groups could would be easier to be kept entertained during the shitty weather. After a hot shower I changed into fresh clothes, wrapping my up in one of Carlisles sweaters I stole from him for the trip. I looked like I drowned inside his way to big clothes, but right now I only cared about them being exceptionally warm.

Leaving the room, I ran into the Cullen kids and Bella sitting on the sofa. Jasper tensing up as soon as I stepped into the living room. He had been avoiding me like the plague all day, and it wasn’t until now, that it hit me. My period. He could smell my blood. “We all can.” Edward answered. “Good luck with Carlisle though.” He chuckled turning back to play with Bellas hair who was in a deep conversation with Alice. I scrunched my nose at his mysterious words, but shrugged it off, entering Carlisle and my bedroom.

As soon as I entered, I understood, what Edward meant. Carlisle was sitting on his bed and when his eyes landed on mine, he let out a low growl. His nostrils flaring, while his body tensed up. Instinctively, I stepped towards him: “Whats wrong, honey?” But he raised his hand, stopping me from approaching any further: “Don’t come any closer. Your smell… I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Is it because I am on my period?” I asked, stepping back towards the door. He groaned at my words, leaning back on the bed. “Yes. I thought I could handle it, but its worse than I’d like to admit.”

“But you are not affected by human blood.” I said, not fully understanding what he meant.

“That’s not entirely true. Other humans blood doesn’t affect me. Yours on the other hand is another story. Like Bella to Edward you are my singer. The one human whos blood is more appealing than normal. And if I wouldn’t be abstinent for such a long time…” He let the end of his sentence hang in the air.

Sucking in a deep breath, I grasped for the door handle: “I will leave you alone then. I don’t want to overwhelm you.” But I wasn’t even able to fully open the door, when he was behind me, shutting the door with such force, I was surprise he didn’t break it. “No!” He growled. “Not when Jasper is around. Not when you smell this good.” His hands were on each side of my head, caging me in between the door and his tall frame. My heart beat so fast in my chest, that my head started to spin. Carlisle dipped down his head, starting to kiss my neck up and down, growling deeply the whole time. Him being this close made me tense up, but he didn’t seem to notice, grabbing me by my waist, pushing me into the corner of the room. I tried to force him back, but he didn’t even react to my hands pushing him away.

“Carlisle stop.” I whispered, my voice shaky and fearful. He didn’t listen, so I tried again: “Carlisle, you scare me.” Those words seemed to snap him out of his frenzy, because as soon as I said it, he jumped back, cowering in the opposite corner of the room. “Aubrey, I am sorry. So sorry. Please forgive me. I couldn’t…” He stopped, looking away from me. My eyes went soft, as soon as I saw how much he struggled with it. “Don’t worry, Carlisle. I trust you.” My words didn’t seem to help him one bit. Raging up he looked at me with angry eyes. “No, Aubrey. I could have easily killed you, or gone against your wishes. You don’t understand. I am a monster!”

“But you didn’t.” I answered calmly. “You stopped when I asked you to. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Everyone makes mistakes…”

“Yeah, but mine get you killed. I should leave.” He got up from his crouched position, but I moved in front of the door, blocking him from leaving. “Get out of the way, Aubrey.” He growled, but I shook my head. “I am not going anywhere. You either tell me how I can help you, or I am not moving.”

Carlisle squinted his eyes. “I could easily move you out of the way.”

“Then do it.” I challenged him, tilting up my chin. “Move me out of the way. Show me what a coldhearted monster you are, that doesn’t care for my feelings.”

He roared in anger and it took everything in me not to run away from him. Because right now he really did look like a vampire. The way his black eyes hungrily scanned me, his whole body shaking in anger and frustration. The way he clenched his jaw to fight for control. But he didn’t touch me, or force me away from the door. One last deep growl later he sank down on his bed, collapsing in himself.

I took that as my cue to sit down next to him, grabbing his hand and leading it to my face. “I love you, Carlisle. Much more than I can tell you. Please tell me, how I can help you.” He took a deep breath, the expression on his face growing softer. “There is not much you can do. I just wasn’t prepared for you to get your period. I expected it when we where back home so you in this small room, smelling so appealing… It just got the best of me.”

“So, you don’t want to kill me anymore?” I joked, tilting my head in his hand. He chuckled, softly caressing my cheek. “Not more than usual.” Suddenly he maneuvered me on the bed, until he was leaning on top of me. “You do however look very cute, wearing my clothes.”

I could feel the tension in the room suddenly shift from strained to sexual.

Carlisle had me now pinned underneath him, planting soft little kisses on my neck and face. “Just cute?” I asked, audibly out of breath by his actions. He hummed into my ear. “Actually no. You look fucking ravishing.” It was a rare occurrence for him to cuss, but whenever he did, he used it in the most sensual way possible. “I wanna fuck you.” His statement caught me off guard, making me stutter in surprise: “I am on my period. And you nearly lost it minutes ago.”

Nestling with my sweatpants and my hoodie, he grinned down at me. “Sex has been proven to help with the cramping and the pain.” I didn’t resist him taking off my clothes, relishing in this intimate and dirty moment he was creating. “So, this is for pure medical reasons?”

“Purely.” He whispered against my ear, causing goosebumps to erupt over my whole body. Before I could even blink, he vanished from the room and was back, before the door fully swung open. A big towel in his hand. Lifting me up with one arm, he planted the towel underneath me, setting me back down again. Then he shuffled down until his head was between my legs.

“What are you doing?” I shrieked away, but he just kept my legs open, a wicked smile starting to spread onto his face. I knew what he was about to do, but I was still caught by surprise, when he tugged on the string of my tampon, effectively pulling it out. Carelessly he wrapped it inside a paper towel, disregarding it on the floor. “Carlisle!” I yelped out, but the rest of my complaint got stuck in my throat, as soon as he dipped his head down. A deep moan rumbling through my body, as soon as he licked one long stripe over my pussy.

My fingers found their way to his hair, pulling on the roots. His deep sensual growl answering my desperate needs. I could feel myself growing wetter instantly. Welcoming his cold fingers into my warmth. His touch was as light as a feather, having me on the edge of madness in seconds. “Carlisle.” I breathed out, unable to focus on anything else than the man between my legs. Pulled into the depths of his black eyes.

He was fingerfucking me slowly to the rhythm his tongue danced on my clit. “Please don’t stop.” I cried out, not caring on who was going to hear me. The smirk that started forming on his face was breathtaking. Full of confidence and arrogance. Something I rarely saw on him. “Never.” Was all he answered, slowly adding another finger. It was ridiculous how fast he was able to find that sweet spot deep inside of me. Fingers feeling so good, I couldn’t stop the moans spilling through the room.

“You taste so good.” He groaned, raising his head to properly look at me. His chin and mouth were covered in a mix of my slick and blood, making me gasp out in embarrassment. He looked so dangerous and appealing at the same time it was impossible for me to stay sane. Watching intently how tiny droplets of blood ran down his chin, dripping from his fangs. It was a dance on razors edge, having him taste my blood while simultaneously fingering to my orgasm, but I didn’t care. Mesmerized by the way his eyes were flickering between lust and hunger. Between the desire to fuck and kill me. And me being absolutely turned on by it was something I never imagined to happen.

Carlisles smile just grew wicked, when he realized how his appearance affected me. Wiping the blood off with his fingers licking them clean in the most sexual way I could imagine, he looked me deep in the eyes. “You like that, do you?” He asked. Unable to answer as I felt a third finger thrust against my core, I moaned in pleasure. “Answer me, love, or I will stop.”

“Yes.” Was all I was able to press out, is name now falling of my lips like a sweet prayer, not that there was anything holy left in this room, but I couldn’t care less.

As if he sensed the coil in my stomach growing tighter, he placed his other hand on my mouth, muffling my moans. “Careful, love. You were the one who didn’t want things to be official yet, remember?” And right as he said it, I could hear two of the female teachers pass our window, chatting about something. Luckily the curtains had been closed all day, because if it would have been otherwise, they would have seen the predicable scene I was caught in.

Dipping down again, his fingers and tongue kept working me relentlessly, finally pushing me over the edge. I lunged forward, as much as I could against his strong frame. My orgasm hitting me like a strong wave, pulling me deeper into the ocean. I let out a muffled cry, shaking uncontrollably in his arms. But Carlisle wasn’t finished with me. Coming up with his head, he licked my remains from his lips, wiping the rest of it on his shirt. His hand still playing with my pussy, he pinned me down against the mattress, kissing me hungrily. He tasted like a mix of my slick, blood and his overwhelming scent, turning my bones into a puddle in his hands. I attempted to catch my breath, which was hard, when Carlisle definitely wasn’t set on showing any mercy. Processing what just happened, I clung to his body.

Carlisle Cullen may be the calm collected gentleman for everyone else, but in the bedroom, he was as filthy as one can get. The difference only I got to see, making me melt into his arms even more.

His hands were roaming over my body, making me squirm under his cold touch. I felt the heat rise in my core again, my body calling out for him. “Please…” I whimpered, hooking my legs around his waist, pulling him in. “So needy.” He mused, kissing his way down to my breasts. Him taking a hard nipple in his mouth, had me jolt in blissful pleasure. Desperately for more, I tugged on the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head. He understood what I wanted, standing up from the bed in one smooth motion. Then he was back on me again, his cold skin pressing against my hot body.

I could feel his hard cock rubbing against my core, twitching in anticipation. He guided his hard member into me, easing his way in slowly, but I was tighter than usual, another wave of cramps hitting me right when he entered me. I knew he could feel it, by the way he cursed under his breath. He stopped mid movement, jaw clenched, but his eyes showing me how much he cared for me. Waiting for me to give my okay. After a while I nodded, allowing him to fully bottom me out and when he did something between a moan and a painful hiss left my mouth.

“I am sorry, love.” He apologized, pulling back, but I kept him in place with my hands on my shoulder. “Its not you. I am cramping.” I let out, tensing up at the sudden pain shooting through me. “Just be careful.”

“Always.” Carlisle started to move slowly, distracting me from any pain with kissing me until my head spun. It didn’t take long for him to have me mewling his name again, eyes rolling back in my head. I held onto his shoulders, my legs wrapping around his waist giving him a better angle to fuck me.

He set a deep slow pace full on set to pleasure me as much and long as possible. I could feel how my walls started to accommodate him more, his cock soothing the cramps with every move. I hummed in pleasure, sinking into the pillows even more. “You feel so good. ‘S so good.” I mewled, not really caring how audible my words were. But his vampire hearing still enabling him to understand me.

“Let go, love. I got you. You are safe.” His words were water on a hot stone, instantly dissolving into steam clouding my mind. My limps were tingling, the knot in my stomach growing bigger and bigger every second, my brain completely short circuited, purely filled with his presence and the feeling of his delicate fingers, playing with my breast.

I barely processed, how he hovered over me, his full bodyweight supported with his left elbow, lips kissing every inch of my body. I was in heaven right now fucked by a literal god. And maybe him completely having me cock drunk in seconds was what got me to let out the most guttural moan I ever produced: “Daddy.”

It took me a few seconds to comprehend what just happened, but as soon as the realization fought its way through my fogged brain, I clasped a hand in front of my mouth. But Carlisle didn’t seem to mind my slip up one bit. Quite the opposite. He let out a low growl, nudging me with his nose. “That’s what I am to you? Your daddy? Fucking you so good you stop thinking properly, hm?” I just blankly stared at him, caught totally off guard by his shamelessness. “Is that what you want from me? Be my little girl, I take care off?” Shifting his weight, so he was now hovering over me with both arms pushing him upwards, he was now towering over me, his thrusts not even faltering one second. “Say it again, baby girl. Let everyone know who you belong to.”

“Daddy.” I moaned again, when he hit a particularly deep spot inside of me, pushing all the air out of my lungs. He smiled at me, leaning back on his ankles, while simultaneously raising my hips to fuck me deeper into the mattress. “Such a good little girl, you are. Taking your daddy so well.” He praised me, not letting go of my eyes. “Keep your eyes open. I wanna see you, when you make a mess on my cock. Oh, and what a mess you will make.”

I ripped my eyes open again, not being able to resist the soft English drawl he let slip in that moment. I could feel how the knot in my stomach was about to pop, threatening to throw me into the ocean of pleasure. And by the way he smiled down on me, he knew. Knew from the way I shivered in his hands, twitching uncontrollably around his cock. “Go on. Don’t be afraid, my love. I wanna see those beautiful eyes roll back in your head, when you come. Wanna feel how good I fuck you.” He spurred me on, smiling cockily.

And as on cue, I came.

Hard.

Back arching from the bed, my eyes rolling back inside my head. My whole body shivering in pure bliss from my orgasm, lips hanging open in a silent scream. I never came so hard and fast. The difference between the still sensual deep pace he thrusted into me and the rough filthy things he said to me, making my head spin in confusion. But Carlisle was not finished praising me: “That’s it. Ride it out, love. You are doing so good. Looking so beautiful like this.” I could feel myself leak on his lap, causing his cock to now draw even more lush noises from my pussy.

“Carlisle!” I cried out, now in complete subspace. “I need more. Please, daddy.”

“More from what?” He teased, not once faltering in his moves, driving me up the wall. “Use your words, little girl. Tell me what exactly it is that you want from me.”

“Harder, daddy. I need it harder. Need to feel you, please.” I begged, hands reaching out for him, trying to pull him down, but he resisted and I could hear the smugness in his words: “You already feel me, love.”

I cried out in desperation. “More. Need to feel you everywhere, daddy.” Finally, Carlisle gave in to my pleading, but different than what I expected. He pulled back from me, causing me to whine at the sudden loss of contact, but he shushed me quickly. “Shh, its alright, baby girl.” Manhandling me onto my stomach he hiked up one leg, settling between my thighs once again. And as he entered this time, he pressed me down with his full body. Effectively caging me in between his hard frame and the soft mattress.

“Yes.” I whimpered, feeling him thrusting much deeper into me than before. “Don’t stop. You’re making me feel so good, daddy. So safe. Thank you.”

“Always, love. Everything for you.” He growled in my ear and I could hear this whole situation didn’t let him be as unaffected as he firstly led on. The way he was now going harder, pinning my hands down with his strong fingers showed me how much it strained on his self control.

“Its okey, you can let go.” I mewled, arching my back to take him in a deeper angle, but he just groaned. “No. I am not finished with you yet.” The pure determination and possessiveness in his voice striking my once again. I moaned his name, calling out for him, earning a soft bite on my shoulder. “Such a good little girl. Taking me so well.” Sneaking a hand around my hip, he pressed two fingers on my clit, sloppily rubbing circles on it. “I wanna cum with you. Feel you around my cock, when I breed you. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, daddy.” I cried out, muffling my voice in the pillows. Goosebumps started to spread all over my body, a hot fire burning deep in my core once again. I clenched around his cock, eagerly wanting to milk him, feel his seed fill me up. Even though I knew I couldn’t get pregnant, the though of him breeding me whenever he liked, set things inside of me free, that I didn’t know I had.

A second shiver ran down my spine, spurring him on to fuck me even harder. His fingers were now moving faster, more demanding to give me a third orgasm. I started to shake uncontrollably, an indication for him, I was close. “I got you. Cum for me, love.” Was all he needed to say, to push me over the edge a last time. I came, a shivering mess underneath him. Clamping down on his cock, a muffled cry on my lips.

“Good girl.” He growled and I could feel him twitch inside of me, shooting his cold seed deep into my core. Riding out our orgasm he littered my back with kisses, leaving hot bitemarks behind, careful not to make them too visible. I gasped for air, blindly bucking against his frame, signaling it was getting to much for me. Instantly he, pulled out of me, starting to cuddle me, until his coldness made me shiver.

“Lets get you cleaned up, love and ready for bed.”

#fem reader #smut #carlisle x reader #carlisle cullen #carlisle cullen smut #daddy’s babygirl

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