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fum1ku · 12 hours

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LOVE TROPES - HQ BOYS

ft. osamu miya, daichi sawamura, kei tsukishima, keishin ukai, atsumu miya

should i be working on the highly requested pt. 2 to my recent works that’s currently sitting in my drafts? yes. should i also probably be working on the few requests i’ve got in my inbox? also yes. am i still over here writing whatever this is instead of doing those things? absolutely. at least i’m writing something!

OSAMU: friends to lovers.

you had been friends with the miya twins since high school. you had always butt heads with atsumu; bickering back and forth about anything and everything. but it was different with osamu. it felt like you both understood each other, in a way. plus the mutual dislike you both had for atsumu definitely helped. and now, nearly 8 years later, your friendship was still going strong.

well past 8pm, you stood over the front counter at onigiri miya with samu cleaning behind the counter for closing, and atsumu sitting at a stool next to you.

“i don’t know what his problem is! we go out for drinks one night, wind up at his place, and then the next day he can’t even be bothered to send me a single fucking text. seriously. i’m done!” you were going on about your.. most recent boyfriend.

“why don’tcha just dump him then?” atsumu offered, his mouth full of the onigiri osamu had made for him.

“atsumu, you’re disgusting! and i can’t because we aren’t even a thing! which is good—i don’t want us to be.”

osamu laughed at you two from behind the counter.

“okay well then what’s the problem! i don’t understand you women,” atsumu exclaimed, licking off the last bits of onigiri form his fingertips and shoving his plate behind the counter. “i’ve got practice tomorrow. so i’m gone. some of us actually have real problems that aren’t centered around one night stands with guys!”

“oh right, atsumu, like your sex life is any better,” you muttered. the door slammed shut behind him as the bell above the door exhibierst through the building.

you sighed, sinking further into your chair.

“here,” osamu slid a plate towards you. “might make ‘ya feel better. plus i need feedback to see if it’s worth addin’ to the menu.”

you smiled. “thanks, osamu. and yeah, i’ll give good feedback, promise!”

osamu smiled to himself as he wiped down the back counter. yeah, sure, after 8 years of pining he was no closer to asking you out. but, no matter what, he’d always be here to make you food whenever another boy made you cry.

DAICHI: love at first sight.

it had been a long practice and daichi had decided to treat everyone to a snack down at sakanoshita. daichi stood with suga and asahi waiting for the 1st and 2nd years to finish grabbing their fill. tanaka and noya had seen daichi paying as an opportunity to grab whatever they wanted.

“c’mon you guys!” suga yelled from across the store. “we don’t have all day!”

it has been a long day of classes for you, so it wasn’t even an option in your mind whether you should stop at the convenience store or not. only now you had found yourself in your own little debate.

“milk tea.. or coffee?” you mumbled to yourself. you were bent down over the drinks section taking your sweet time.

daichi turned around to see you and knew he was gone right then and there.

suga scoffed at the two 2nd years taking their time, only to turn back and find daichi’s gaze focused on you.

“hey, daichi, maybe we should—” he started, but stopped as soon as he noticed daichi staring. he whispered to asahi and they both began berating their poor captain.

“c’mon, dude! why don’t you just go talk to them? we obviously have the time!” suga nudged at his arm.

daichi denied anything. “hey, i don’t even now what you’re talking about, suga! we’re here for snack for the team, just go focus on that.”

“hey, don’t we go to school with them? y/n l/n. class 2, i think,” asahi piped up. he couldn’t remember where exactly he knew you from, though.

daichi was sure if he had gone to school with you, he’d remember.

“they’re in photography club! that’s how i know them! they asked me to join after i dropped out of volleyball,” asahi recalled, loud enough to grab your attention.

you looked up to find the set of 3rd years staring in your direction. your drink in hand, you made your way up to them.

“azumane, right? nice to see you again!” you beamed.

“y-yeah, right! good to see you too, l/n,” he smiled, nervously.

“are you guys in line?” you questioned.

“no—no we’re not! sorry about that!” daichi apologized, moving to the side to allow you to get to the register.

you placed your drink on the counter, making small talk with the guy at the front register.

“c’mon, daichi! if you don’t ask them before they leave you might not get to again!” suga whispered.

“suga, let it go. it’s too strange—they don’t even know me.”

suga shoved daichi forward just as you turned around to make your way towards the door.

“oh! hi!” you mused.

“s-sorry. hi.. again.”

“sawamura, right? you’re the captains of the volleyball team!” you smiled.

“yeah, i am. and you’re l/n, right? asahi was telling me about you. you’re in photography.

“i am, actually! and please, just call me y/n!”

“then just call me daichi!”

first name basis after 10 minutes? way to go daichi!

“actually..” you started. “i was wondering if it’d be possible for me to take some action shots of the volleyball team? i was going to use them for an upcoming project of mine. of course if not, that’s okay too! you probably need to talk it over with the team.”

“yeah—absolutely! i’ll have to talk it over with everyone, but i don’t see it being a problem at all,” he said, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. “what class are you in? i can talk to you some time next week to figure out what day would work best.”

“here,” you said, turning around to the man behind the counter. “excuse me, do you have a pen i could borrow?”

the man tossed you a pen, not giving a second look to you from behind his magazine. you pulled out daichi’s arm and started scribbling down numbers.

your.. phone number?

“now you can call me, that’ll be easier!” you smiled. “anyways, i gotta run. see you later, daichi. tell azumane i said bye too!”

he was speechless. did he really manage to get your number without even trying?

suga ran up behind him. “dude! how? you hardly said anything to them!”

“wow, daichi’s got skills with the ladies!” tanaka mused, noya trailing behind them. their arms were stacked full with all kinds of snacks.

he was definitely not paying for all of those.

KEI: academic rivals to lovers.

you worked at the library at the university you attended. tsukishima had seen you around campus a few times. yamaguchi would go as far as to describe you as tsukishima’s “campus crush”—which tsukki of course denied. he hardly even knew you.

but, this semester is when things finally got interesting. you had wound up taking the course tsukishima was the TA for.

you were currently bent down behind a bookshelf in the campus library, organizing the books that needed to be put away. you noticed a hand grab a book off your cart.

you stood up. “anything you need help finding?”

“no,” the man stated, blankly.

you examined the book in his hand. “wait. are you in psych 301? haven’t seen you in there before.”

“kei tsukishima. i’m the assistant in that class this semester.”

“oh! i’m y/n l/n. are you reading that book for fun then, or?”

“i know. i graded your last essay. something about the human consciousness or whatever,” he stated, pushing his glasses to the bridge of his nose.

your face went hot. “oh? so you were the one that gave me a B- on that. that was the best paper i’ve written all semester!”

“yeah, only because you can’t write any better ones. and maybe actually read the syllabus before you join the class,” he deadpanned.

“okay, mr. know-it-all. and for what it’s worth, i did in fact read the syllabus.”

“well if you actually paid attention, then you’d know this book was meant to be read alongside the other materials.”

wait. what?

before you could say another word, he placed the book back down in the cart. “my email is on the syllabus if you’d actually care to read it. good luck actually passing the class.”

you were so going to find that syllabus. and you were definitely doing to pass that class.

KEISHIN: second chance.

stepping foot into sakanoshita after years felt like a dream. but seeing keishin, your high school boyfriend, sitting there behind the counter, was what really sent you back.

“keishin?”

ukai actually took the time to look up form his magazine, and he was glad he did. “y/n?”

“keishin!” you smiled. “i didn’t realize you family still owned the place!”

he stood up form his seat behind the counter. “yeah! work here part-time, coach volleyball the other half.

“you coach volleyball? does the old ukai not coach anyone then?”

“nah, old man retired last year. still coaches a few younger kids on the side. but, hey, how have you been? it’s been years since i last saw you in miyagi. 4? 5, maybe?”

“yeah,” you sighed. “it’s definitely been awhile. but life has been great in tokyo. my internship finally ended and so i’m back here for the next month or two!”

“really? you got to let me take you out sometime—drinks, to celebrate.”

you felt the slight rush of heat to your cheeks. “r-right! of course!”

“hey, if you wanted, we close in less than an hour. you could wait here till then, catch up, then let me take you out for drinks.”

“alright,” you smiled, taking a seat behind the counter next to ukai. “tell me about your team then. where do you coach? karasuno?”

you felt like you were 16 all over again. just him and you.

ATSUMU: opposites attract.

you were the promotional manager for the msby black jackals. everyone on the team loved you—yes, even sakusa. though he wouldn’t admit it. but, atsumu being the sly guy he is, took every opportunity to flirt with you. of course, keeping things professional, you shut him down every chance you got. plus, it would never work. ever. you knew that.

he was childish, you were mature—top of your office only a few months in. he was selfish half the time, and he’d always describe you as one of the most thoughtful people he’s ever met. he was confident and bold. you were quiet and reserved, at least time him. so when you find yourself alone with him at the gym one night late after practice, going through your binder of advertising ideas, you didn’t know what to make of it. the way you could feel he eyes focused on you and only you drove you insane.

you finally took a break form your rant about new promotional ideas for the team, leaving a heavy silence between the two of you.

“y/n?” he finally said, breaking for silence.

“yeah, atsumu?” you respond, not looking up form your binder.

“you should let me take ‘ya out. i mean it.”

you quietly gasped to yourself.

sure, atsumu had made pass after pass at you every day for the last few months since you started working with the team. but, this time, he sounded so.. genuine.

what’s even worse is you couldn’t help yourself from the words the escape your lips in the last moment.

“okay.”

⁂ taglist: @chloiyoomi @eashn + let me know if you want to be added! 💌

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thenickgirl · 18 hours

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TERRIBLE TWOS

dad!nick x male!reader

summary: in which you and your husband, Nick, try to handle your daughter, Aliyah’s, tired behavior.

genre: fluff ✩ pov: second person ✩ word count: 1.4k

warnings: none?

a/n: uhh i know i said i wasn’t writing another fic, but i’m a liar so, jokes on you actually. i came up with this in the shower and just couldn’t pass it up. it was meant to be a little blurb, but gang wanted more so. the ending is awkward sorry, i still don’t quite know what i’m doing. anyways, happy reading! ❤️‍🔥

Life as new parents isn’t always the easiest, but you two have handled things fairly very well. The past two years with your daughter, Aliyah, have been amazing. Nick is able to work on his business remotely, so he mostly stayed home with her, while you went in to work everyday. He was an outstanding father, and Aliyah absolutely adored him, they were so close. She loved you just as much of course, and on the weekends she loved having you both home to cuddle and play with. She had grown used to your daily routine, however, today was going to be different, because Nick had meetings lined up that he had to be in the office for, so you took off in order to stay home with her. It wasn’t the first time you had been alone with your daughter obviously, but it had been a while. Still, you were eager to spend some one on one time with your sweet girl. You had heard horror stories of people complaining about their toddlers' behavior, but you always chalked it up to them either over exaggerating or just being bad parents. That was until today, when your own toddler decided she wanted to switch things up.

“BABE WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN??” you shout as your husband, Nick, walks in the door, his hands full of bags you assumed to be groceries. “I know, I’m sorry our last meeting ran way over, and I knew we needed some things for dinner so I decided to stop by the store on the way home.” He says as he walks into the kitchen, placing the bags onto the island. “We might not even make it to dinner!” you shout, and Nick looks over at you confused, his eyes narrowing. “Babe, what are you talking about?” he chuckles, as he puts the food away, clearly not understanding the severity of the situation. “Aliyah, your daughter, didn’t go down for her nap today.” you say to him, crossing your arms over your chest. “Why is she only my daughter when she doesn’t take a nap?” he responds, mimicking your gesture. “That’s because she acts just like you when she doesn’t. She’s extremely cranky. She wouldn’t stop crying. She’s been throwing fits every 15 minutes. SHE ACTUALLY THREW AT BLOCK AT ME!” you yell recounting the event. Nick bites back a laugh before the realization hits him, “Ohh no,” he whispers. “Exactly! I swear, this is the worst it’s ever been,” you sigh, placing your head in your hands.

“No!” Nick utters, pulling your hands away from your face. “Listen, we are not going to be defeated by a 2 year old, okay? This is our house, and we’re in charge.” he says hastily as you nod along to his rant. “Yeah, we’re the adults here!” you agree. “Say it!” he demands, “This is our house, and we’re in charge!” you shout. “RIGHT! So where is she?” he asks, walking out of the kitchen into the hallway. “She’s sitting in her playroom room, I turned on Gracie’s Corner. This is the longest that she’s been content all day. I don’t see how you do this, I almost started crying with her.” you say before following behind your husband, and he chuckles at your statement before turning to face you, “You’re doing great, it gets better, I promise,” he praises as he holds your face in his hands, kissing your forehead sweetly, and you smile up at him.

“Well, did you at least put the Gracie video on loop?” he asks, turning away to walk down the hall towards the playroom, with you not far behind. “Loop? What loop? What are you talking about?” you ask confusedly, and Nick stops in his tracks, causing you to run into him. He turns around sharply to face you, his eyes widening. “You didn’t loop it? Babe, you have to loop it because once it goes off she-“ “DADDYYYYYY!” you hear your daughter’s cries from down the hall, and sigh deeply. As you and your husband rush to her, you were stopped in your tracks by her meeting you halfway, her ocean blue eyes welling with tears.

You both kneel down to her level, and Nick wipes away her tears with his thumb, his demeanor softening the second he sees his little girl. “What’s wrong, bunny?” he asks softly. “Daddy, Gwacie went off, I wanna watch Gwacie! I wanna watch Gwacie! I wanna watch Gwacie!” she chants, stomping her tiny feet. You and Nick just sit there, watching your daughter absolutely lose it. “Liyah Jade, c’mon now. Gracie isn’t going anywhere, we can always restart it, you’re fine. Just calm down, honey,” he reassures her. “Okay, can I have a cookie pwease daddy?” she says pouting. “Sure, let's go get you a cookie,” “Nicolas!” you utter in disbelief. “Why don’t you go pick out the cookie you want okay? I’ll be there in a second,” he says to his baby girl as she skips away down the hall. He turns to look at you, shrugging. “Cookies before dinner, really?” “I know, but she was pouting, and c’mon she’s so cute!” he says defeated. “What happened to ‘this is our house and we’re in charge’?” you say, chuckling and he pauses. “Doesn’t really sound like something I would say,” he smirks as he walks into the kitchen with Aliyah, shaking your head at the way she had him wrapped around her little finger.

Once back in the playroom, after having cookies and watching Gracie together as a family for what felt like the hundredth time, you noticed that it was getting close to dinner time. You leave the two to continue watching more videos while you go and cook. You decide to prepare something quick and easy. After spending all afternoon with a grumpy toddler, you couldn’t be bothered to make anything more elaborate. As you were finishing whipping up dinner, you could hear Nick and Aliyah in the other room bickering, and you couldn’t help listening. His ability to straight up argue with a toddler never ceased to amuse you.

“But honey, when you make a mess you have to clean it up. Look, we can even make it fun. I can turn on some music and-”

“No, daddy! I can’t want to!”

You couldn’t see him, but you just knew your husband was rolling his eyes. Once dinner is ready, you call for them to come and eat. To your surprise dinner goes smoothly. Usually, Aliyah complains about eating her vegetables, saying ‘I can’t want that! It’s gwoss’, but tonight she ate them willingly. Maybe her missing a nap wasn't so bad after all, you thought to yourself. You glance over and see your daughter yawn for the third time, and you and Nick give each other a knowing look. The ‘no naps’ campaign she had been running was finally taking a toll on her.

After dinner, you started getting ready for bed. You gave Aliyah a bath, brushed her teeth, and got her ready for bed. Nick came in soon after to read her favorite story. She cuddled up next to him, her eyelids growing heavier by the second. You watched from the door frame as the story ended, and your toddler now sound asleep in your husband's arms. “Soo, have we defeated Bowser yet, or no?” you say teasingly. “Shh! Don’t call her that!” Nick says as he throws a plushie from her bed at you. You jump out of the way so that it misses you, “I’m kidding! She is cute though, especially when she’s sleeping,” you say looking down at her tiny frame, smiling. “Amen to that, a lot quieter too.” You both chuckle and Nick gets up out of her bed, careful not to wake the little sleeping beauty, before tucking her in, and you each kiss her goodnight.

You tip top quietly out of her room, closing the door gently, and you both let out a sigh of relief. You head towards your bedroom which is only a couple doors down, and start getting ready for bed yourselves, the two of you feeling pretty worn out. After showering and slipping on pajamas, you both plop down into your bed on your respective sides, settling under the covers. “Today went completely different from what I expected,” you confess as you cuddle into your husband's side. He laughs as he wraps his arm around you, rubbing your back softly. “I probably should’ve given you a heads up about that. She is a menace when she’s tired,” “Yep, sounds familiar,” you tease and he pinches your side. “Heyyy! I’m not that bad, and I will just go to sleep if I’m tired, not start a whole ass riot,” he says in defense and you both laugh. After a while, a comfortable silence grows between you and before long you both drift off to sleep.

🏷️: @muwapsturniolo @mattslolita @guccifrog @luverboychris @freshloveforthefit @matty-bear @mybelovednick @imsosillygoofylol @ghostking4m @certifiednatelover @meg-sturniolo @sturniolossss @moonk1ss3d @nickgetsmewetter

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tonguepiercedanyway75 · 5 hours

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Thigh lover - Matty Healy

mdni 18+ in which you tell Matty you’re obsessed with his thighs and what you’ve always wanted to do with them.

content warning: thigh riding (obviously), male masturbation,

The sun shines brightly as you and Matty cruise down the highway. The car's low rumble is a comforting background, and you can't help but watch Matty as he drives. His eyes are on the road, one hand gripping the steering wheel, the other resting on his thigh.

You’re mesmerized by the sunlight on his tattoos. The tightness of his pants around his thighs accentuates every line and muscle. You trace the contours with your eyes, feeling a warm flush.

You’ve always had a thing for thighs, especially Matty’s. When he’s wearing jeans like today, they’re even tighter bringing his crotch and thighs to bear.

You have never gotten further than grinding on his lap or just innocently sitting on one thigh. Sadly. Because you want to get off on them, feel how they flex under you. God. You just don’t know how to tell him.

You’re open with kinks in your relationship. But it’s mostly Matty who wants to try new stuff, you are open as well, but you never suggest anything.

You don’t know how long you can go before climbing over the control to sit down on him and start grinding on his jeans.

You feel you panties get wet at the thought and you’re clenching your thighs, adjusting your position in the search for friction to give yourself some relief.

“You alright?”

Matty’s voice is a hit to reality. You look at him offering him a tiny smile. “Yep, just hot.”

He glances at you quickly before his eyes turn back to the road. "D'you need me to turn the AC on?"

"No, it's fine," you say, but your mind is racing. You cant stop thinking about him and you can’t even turn your eyes off of his thighs.

His hand sometimes resting on his right thigh, wanting to replace his hand with yours.

“You’re acting off, love.” Matty says, squeezing your hand to make you look at him. “What’s wrong?”

You bite your lip, glancing at him and then quickly away, feeling a mix of embarrassment and desire. "It's nothing," you mutter, but you know you can't keep this to yourself much longer. The thought of his thighs under you, the way they would flex and move, is driving you wild.

“C’mon, spill it.” His eyes are narrowing slightly with concern. “You haven’t said one word the entire car ride.”

You nod, taking a deep breath. "Yeah, I know. It's just... I feel weird bringing it up."

"Try me," he says gently, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on the back of your hand.

You take another deep breath, trying to gather your courage. "You know how you always tell me to let you know when I want to try something... in bed?"

He raises an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "Yeah, f’ course,” smirks, “you want to try something?”

You look down at your hands, twisting them nervously.

“Yes but, oh god, it’s not really something in bed I guess.”

He smiles at your nervousness, knowing exactly that you hate speaking up on those things.

“You got me, tell me. Want me to piss on you or what?” He jokes knowing damn well if you would ask him to do that it wouldn’t take long for him to actual fulfill your every desire.

You groan and your face flushes. You cover your face with your hands. “No, not that,” you stammer, peeking at him through your fingers.

Matty bursts into laughter, the sound filling the car. "I'm just kidding, love. But seriously, what's got you so flustered?"

You mumble into your hands a low “thighs,” which is definitely understandable for him but he always wants you to elaborate.

“What’s that?” He asks, both hands on his wheel now, pushing his hips up a bit to settle into his seat. You’ve been on the road for quite some time now and he’s complained every ten minutes that his ‘arse hurts.’

“Matty,” you say softly, maybe convincing him to act before asking you what you exactly mean.

“Nah, love,” he chuckles, “don’t know what you mean, what did you say.”

You turn your head to the window, looking at all the houses passing by, familiar houses. Which means you’re almost at Matty’s.

“You’ve got my attention. Out with it.”

“Fine,” you groan, looking at him again. “Your thighs.” You say, “I’ve been thinking about them.”

The shit eating grin on his face is making you more nervous but over all even wetter. “Forget about it Matty.”

“Love, c’mon ease up a bit yeah?” he says, his tone softening just a touch. “You’re not getting out of this one. You’ve got to spill the beans now.”

You sigh, feeling the heat in your cheeks. “I just... I really want to try something with your thighs.”

His grin widens, and he shifts in his seat again, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “Oh, now we’re getting somewhere. What exactly did you have in mind?”

You look at your lap, “want to grind on them.”

Matty licks his lips before his lips part, his breathing getting heavier. “Oh want to use ‘em hm? Get off on them, s’that it?”

Matty's suggestive response sends a shiver down your spine. You clear your throat, trying to maintain composure. "Yeah, I... I think it could be really hot." Your voice wavers slightly, betraying your nervousness.

“Fuckin’ yeah that’s hot,” he lets out a chuckle, looking at you. “Wanted to go home the whole day, now I have something to look forward to.”

You can’t help but smile at his response. “So you’re okay with it?”

“More than okay, love.” He says giving your thigh a playful squeeze. “If we weren’t two minutes away I’d pull over.”

You squeeze your thighs together, this time with Matty noticing. He pushes them apart with his hand. “Eager much?”

The next to minutes feel like hours, the giddiness spreading through your body as you can only imagine what’s going to happen when you get home.

And then you do get home and he’s already on the couch spreading his thighs, calling you over.

“C’mere now, can clean this up later. Want to make you feel good now.” He pats his right thigh and you can’t help but smile, walking towards him in your shorts. You settle down on his lap and he tuts, “not like this.”

You blush, he extends his arms to help bring you to your knees, lacing your fingers with his as he keeps you balanced while you shuffle forward to straddle his leg.

“S’ no different than grinding on my dick alright,” he grins, already taking the piss out of you. “Jesus, love, I’m already as excited as you.”

“Yeah?” Your teeth roll over your bottom lip, a flutter of excitement dancing in your belly.

“Fuck yes,” He grins up at you, head resting back on the couch "You get to enjoy yourself, and I get to watch while you do it. S’ some hot shit.”

You nod your head, excited, allowing yourself to rest your weight fully onto him. Immediately, the simple pressure of his wide thigh against your thin shorts is enough to send a surge of heat dancing up your spine.

Resting your hands on his shoulders to get comfortable, you lean in for a kiss, capturing his bottom lip between yours and dragging a sleepy little growl from his throat. He guides you slightly higher up his thigh, the shift in angle pushing your clothed clit tight against his leg making you whimper helplessly against his mouth. The rumble of Matty’s low chuckle vibrates warmly in his chest.

“Don’t hold back, show me what you want to do with m’ thighs.” murmurs reassuringly, hands resting firm either side of your hips, urging you to move.

The roll of your pelvis is tentative at first, figuring out what pressure and speed work for you. Settling into a rhythm, the friction builds a delicious pressure low in your belly. You feel yourself getting wetter with each grind against Matty’s thigh. An appreciative little groan from beneath you has your eyes opening to see him staring right between your legs - at the little damp spot you're marking him with.

His hand on the small of your back brings you towards his mouth, tongue sliding wantonly between your lips with a fiery possessiveness that makes you rub faster and tighter circles full of need against his thigh. You feel a coil tightening, pulling at your insides, when he stops, gripping your hips.

“Stand up f’ me,” you whine, pouting your lips and he laughs, kissing them. “Only f’ a second, need to get these off.”

You stand up infront of him and he quickly tugs the shorts off of you, looking down at your panties, the wet patch very visible. “Christ, darling, you fuckin’ love this.”

“Get back here,” he demands, pulling you back onto his thigh and you immediately start rocking your hips back and forth.

"Fuck," you whimper, thighs shaking slightly as you continue the abuse toward your swollen clit, somehow Matty’s jeans make the stimulation even better through your thin panties and it almost causes you to lurch forward in shock.

Matty chuckles at that as he throws his arms over the couch casually, "hm, feel good?" you nod quickly, too lost in your own pleasure to comprehend a word.

His hands slither onto your hips from behind and press you harder against Matty’s flexed thigh causing a silent scream to escape your lips.

Matty’s cock begins to twitch inside his already-too-tight pants and he unclasps his belt skillfully with one hand, undoing the button and lowering the fly.

“Keep using my thigh, want you to completely ruin my jeans.” You moan and nod in agreement your eyes trailing down his body to where Matty’s hand disappears in his jeans.

He’s pulling out his hard cock from his boxers, "you can’t believe how fuckin hot you look, riding my thigh like this" His other hand slides down from your hip to your knee, giving a light squeeze.

Matty swipes his tongue over his bottom lip before giving his cock a tug, “Christ.”

“Just like that, darling,” he groans, “can’t believe’ s the first time we’re doing this.” The lustful nature of his words alone sends a shiver down your spine, only encouraging your arousal as his leg bobs perfectly against your throbbing clit. Suddenly, the slick of Matty’s' tongue meet your neck, gliding down to your exposed clavicle as a familiar knot begins to wind in the pit of your stomach.

“M’ close.” You slip a breathy moan, pumping your cunt faster against your boyfriend's leg.

“S’ that so? Fuck-“ Matty grins, pulling your heat further against the rigorous motions of his leg - your agile fingers tugging at his shirt "Cum for me, darling." He strokes his cock still in a torturous pace, not wanting to cum without you.

“Make a mess, love,” you mewl into his shirt and clench around air, hips picking up speed while you grip his bicep. Matty’s thigh is damp with your arousal, the warmth seeping into the fabric and vaguely hitting his skin.

You feel his body shake with each passing stroke of his fist. The fact he is getting off to you getting off on him makes you shiver with delight. You lift your head from his shoulder and crash your lips against his messily; teeth closing, tongues swirling.

He speeds up his fist, grunting himself as his orgasm approaches. His eyes stay on you though the whole time, not wanting to miss a second of you grinding on his thigh.

“Oh- fuck,” You call out as your orgasm hits, chest rising and falling rather drastically as your body takes to instinctively adjusting.

“Good girl- fuck,” you ride out out your orgasm but instinctively you replace Matty’s hand with yours, jerking him off in a brutally fast pace. “Keep doing that.”

His lips press against yours once more, tongue flicking over your bottom lip before pushing it in. Your hands come up to cradle his face while you swallow down every single moan and grunt leaving Matty’s throat just as he spills himself into your fist.

You are both panting, grinning into each others mouths when you let your head fall back onto his shoulder.

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you this soaked,” he states, starting to prep kisses down your arm. “I think you need to tell me your fantasies more often.”

You giggle into his neck, leaving a kiss at the same spot, when you finally get off of his lap, the stickiness almost gluing yourself to him.

He smiles at the wet spot on his jeans proudly, “hm, are you feeling alright?”

You nod, watching him tug himself into his pants again to stand up, “more than alright Matty, thank you.”

“You’re joking, f’course baby, hottest thing you’ve ever done.”

You laugh, “definitely need to shower now.”

“Oh what a coincidence, me too.” He laughs standing up, already pulling his shirt over his head revealing his tattoos and his skin covered in some sweat. “Let’s go.”

He grits his teeth together before yanking you over his shoulder, playfully smacking the skin on the back of your thigh. “You’re my little minx”

#the 1975 #matty healy #Matty Healy smut #matty healy imagine #matty healy x you #matty healy x reader #matty healy blurb #matty healy oneshot #ross macdonald #george daniel #adam hann #the 1975 fic

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queercontrarian · 3 days

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Azris Week 2024: Contact

Azriel and Eris are not quite as overt in showing their affection as Azriel's family is. You might not even know it's there... unless you know where to look.

this summary is shit also let's all just pretend i posted this on the right day okay? thank you

@azrisweek

“I’m getting old,” Cassian groans, letting his heavy body drop onto the bench with a crack that doesn’t bode well for the structure of the piece. After all, the birchin is almost as old as Cassian is now.

“Must be the constant losing because I feel great,” Azriel lies through his teeth as he sits, much more careful than his brother to not damage the old furniture more. He does feel great; winning always feels good, especially when it’s their traditional snowball fight and even more so when it’s his fourth year in a row. Still, he too can feel the years bearing on his bones and joints, especially now that he doesn’t spend nearly as much time training his body as he used to when he was still Spymaster of the Night Court.

“The only reason you can keep up your winning streak is because you don’t have any children to run after,” Rhys complains, stretching his leg out in front of him to gently massage his knee. ”You have no idea what real tiredness is until you’ve chased a nearly eighteen year old across all seven Courts trying to keep him from causing the whole continent to blow up.”

Azriel snorts. “Actually, I do know a thing or two about how that feels.”

“Oh fuck you, I was never that bad,” Rhys replies, but it has no real bite. He leans back and closes his eyes. Azriel shrugs, which Rhys can’t see now but might just feel through some brotherly intuition or simply the fact that they’ve known each other for nearly their entire lives.

“And anyways, it can’t be that hard,” Azriel adds, “You love your children, that’s why you had them. That’s why you continue to have them.” He shoots a pointed look at Cassian. He and Nesta just welcomed another two children into their home: twins, no more than ten years old, both from the far islands which crown the north of Illyria. That makes for five kids that his friends have adopted so far. Luckily, the House of Wind has enough room for all the youths they invite to join their family, and Nyx and Jasmin both go nearly green with envy since Noura is the only cousin with siblings. That is, until Elain gives birth again, which won’t be for a couple months now.

“True that,” Cassian mumbles, eloquent as ever as he too leans back against the wall. “Why don’t you have children anyway?”

Azriel just stares at him, trying to decipher what it is his brother is really asking. It's not exactly like having a child is something that could just happen to him and Eris like it did for Rhys and Feyre. He knows of course that Eris will be expected to produce an heir some day, but it’s been barely fifteen years since he became High Lord. They still have time, time to figure out how they will construct this future family of theirs, time to be a family of just two. Azriel isn’t ready to share his husband with another soul yet when he already shares him with an entire Court, but that feels like too earnest of a thing to say here and now. It’s not that he thinks his brothers wouldn’t understand, he just doesn’t want to bring it up yet.

“It’s not like we don’t try,” he says finally with a sideways grin on his face, waiting for Cassian to look at him again. “We try so hard, you know, every night, but it just doesn't seem to be happening for us.” Cassian cackles and then coughs as he breathes in the hot air of the birchin, enriched with a thousand healing herbs - at least that’s what it smells like.

“I’m sure you do,” he rasps through coughing and Rhysand smirks too, though Azriel doesn’t know if it is at the joke he made or Cassian’s face, which has taken on the color of pickled beetroot.

“You’d never know,” he says, and Azriel just gives a noncommittal hum.

“Right?” Cassian agrees, his voice still rough though he’s stopped coughing for now. “I mean, you’d never know if you just saw you guys.”

Azriel frowns. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Just, you know. You don't really act like a couple. I mean, compare that to me and Nesta or Rhys and Feyre; they’re all over each other.”

Azriel has half the mind to turn his back to them to show them the clear proof that Eris, too, is all over him more often than not, and likes to leave his mark, thank you very much, but that feels childish. The truth is they don’t act like the other couples in the Inner Circle. That doesn’t mean they love each other any less.

“What, just because we don’t fondle each other in the presence of others?” Azriel responds, unable to suppress the slight defensiveness, his inner walls shutting down almost automatically. He knows his brothers mean no harm, but it still feels like a challenge. Eris and him are just much more private people than his brothers and their partners.

“Yeah but there’s private and then there’s whatever you guys have,” Rhys voices his opinion from the bench across the room. Azriel barely has time to admonish him for reading his mind without asking - which is something he promised he wouldn’t do anymore when Azriel became Lord Consort of Autumn, but old habits seem to be hard to break - when Cassian adds, “It’s not like it’s bad or anything. It’s just different from what we’re used to.”

“I suppose,” Azriel says. He’s not trying to spend the limited time he and his brothers have nowadays bickering - even though they are of course dead wrong…

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

▪︎

There is no way they will be able to talk to all these people tonight but Eris seems to be hellbent on trying, and if the High Lord is convinced of something it is harder to change his mind than to go along with it. Azriel has always been the type to choose the path of least resistance. Eris's hand is firm on his back as he leads him through the crowd of fae gathered in the throne room. He can feel Eris’s heartbeat, reverberating through their bond. It rarely feels stronger than when they are next to each other.

He’s been standing on the balcony for a while when Eris finally joins him. His wings are practically being baked in the hot sun of the Day Court but it’s still bearable. Better than being inside anyways.

“Taking a break, are we?” Eris says with a smile. Azriel just rolls his eyes.

“Didn’t really want to stick around to watch my family stick their tongues down their partners’ throats,” he grunts, and Eris laughs.

“The topics of conversations have changed quite drastically since this morning,” he admits, and that’s putting it lightly. The official visit that had been scheduled for diplomacy reasons has been derailed entirely. Now it seems more like they were only moments away from an orgy taking over the room.

“Just… stay with me for a little while,” Azriel asks, with more vulnerability in his voice than he would usually allow himself. It’s hot, he’s tired, he feels a little overwhelmed. He shifts slightly to his left so Eris can lean against the railing next to him. Their arms brush against each other and Eris reaches for his hand, locks their fingers together.

They watch from the sidelines as the courtiers inside bicker and flirt and debate and disappear off into their own little corners away from prying eyes until Helion finally calls them to order (“So unlike him,” Azriel mutters and Eris grins).

Minutes turn into an hour and the afternoon sun sinks further into a beautiful sunset. Finally Eris separates himself from the railing and makes a step back towards the hall. He turns to look at Azriel, their hands still joined between them.

“Ready to go back in there, Shadowsinger?”

Azriel raises their hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the back of Eris’s hand.

“Yes.”

▪︎

Azriel never thought listening to two brothers argue could be calming, but with Sasha and Bas bickering on the couch opposite him he feels like he could fall asleep at any moment. Then again maybe it’s not the heated discussion about grain import but the friendly fire that the Lady Vanserra had lit in the family’s private drawing room, the dog snoring at his feet, the sound of the wind outside the stained glass windows. Maybe it’s Eris’s hand, curled at the back of his neck, playing absentmindedly with his hair.

Azriel sighs and leans in closer, Eris’s low chuckle a familiar and comforting melody in his ear.

▪︎

People have slowly been filing out of the great ballroom for the past two hours. Personally, Azriel is elated. He does not mind balls, in fact there are two very good arguments why he should enjoy them a lot more than he does - those arguments being that usually, he gets to see his half of the family, and he gets to see Eris even more dressed up than he is on the day to day. Still, he likely won’t ever get used to being the host, and he is very glad that at least for now it is over. There is only one more breakfast to get through tomorrow before the last of their guests leave and he will only have to share his husband with one Court instead of all seven of them.

“There you are.” Speak of the devil. “Ready for this to end?” Eris’s smile is slightly lopsided, and the way he holds his shoulders betrays his exhaustion, but he looks happy and it instantly lifts Azriel’s mood as well. When he turns to fully face his husband he can’t help but reach out to smooth down the spangles on his coat, which still looks practically impeccable. He knows it would bother Eris though, if he noticed it.

The male places his hand over Azriel’s own and pulls him closer by his arm until they are standing only a few inches apart.

“Dance with me,” Eris says, the look in his eyes so earnest that it feels impossible to deny him anything.

“Here?” Azriel asks weakly, his resolve already crumbling before he can even try to say no.

“Yes. Here, now.”

“Alright.”

There’s barely anyone in the hall now anyway, and even if there were a thousand guests still around them it wouldn’t matter; all Azriel can see is Eris.

▪︎

Azriel feels like they've been sitting here for hours, listening to Helion drone on and on about regulations in the creation of new subsections of the principal disciplines of magic. Eris at least manages to pretend to show interest, but Azriel is pretty sure that it's very evident on his face that he wants nothing more than to take another break from this meeting, or better yet, leave it be for today and return back to their room.

He is distracted again when Eris moves his hand to rest between them on the narrow wooden armrest of his throne. He watches, mesmerized by the way his husband's many rings glint in the sunlight as he begins tapping his fingers against the armrest.

Tap tap tap. A signal?

Azriel glances up at Eris, who is still following the debate that has now started between Helion and Kallias, but his expression is a bit too fixed to be natural.

Tap tap, Eris's pointer finger sounds softly against the wood. Slowly, Azriel places his own hand next to Eris's, eyes tracking every movement his husband makes, watching as his mate extends his pinky finger until it rests against Azriel's own scarred hands. Slowly, so slowly, their fingers entwine, Eris’s rings scraping against his skin. When Azriel looks up, Eris is still staring straight ahead, a slight smile on his lips.

▪︎

The House of Wind is as crowded as ever on Starfall, but Azriel can barely hear his family cheering for the spirits as they travel across the sky, nor can he hear the music or the noise of the party. He’s too wrapped up in his mate, standing as close to him as he possibly can to take in his warmth, his scent, his quiet words even as the world around them seems to get only louder.

Under the light of a thousand stars, of spirits and candles and magic sparks Azriel leans in closer to wrap his arms around his mate just as Eris turns to kiss him.

Eris doesn’t say a word when Azriel slumps onto the couch next to him. He only moves his leg a little so he can fit comfortably, shifting his book from one hand to the other. Azriel sighs, his head rolling back as his muscles slowly relax from the long day. Eris’s thigh is leaned against his, with no pressure but a warm, comforting presence that makes him melt deeper into the couch.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

The trip from Night to Autumn is an arduous one, even more taxing in the winter months when it's cold and wet and generally unpleasant to be flying in the Solar Courts. He wants nothing more now than to simply curl up here with Eris, not talking, not moving, just listening to the rain patter outside their window, the fire crackling and the sound of Eris’s breathing. He sighs, his shoulders slowly relaxing as he lets the day pass by again in memory, from the early morning snowball fight to Solstice dinner, which had dragged on forever. He loves and misses his family, even more so now that they live so far apart, but his longing for Eris, for home, always wins out.

Azriel stretches his tired body out across the whole sofa with a sigh, feet hanging off one end as he reaches for one of the pillows to rest his head in Eris’s lap. Eris helps him maneuver his wings into a more comfortable position and Azriel can hardly hide his groan of relief when all the weight is finally taken off of his back and he can feel fully at ease. Eris’s fingers get tangled in his hair as he starts to gently massage the back of his neck and his head with one hand and Azriel can feel his mate’s pulse against his ear, on his lips, across the bond, like the steady beat of his own heart.

“How was your trip?” Eris asks finally, though he still doesn’t look up from his book.

I’m getting old, Azriel thinks, I missed you. They are so wrong about us.

“I love you.”

Eris smiles.

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the-mandawhor1an · 2 days

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Just a scratch - Din Djarin x Reader drabble

Summary: Life as the assistant in a droid-operated doctor’s office isn't eventful. That is, unless a certain frequent visitor ends up in your capable hands again. This time he’s in for a bit more than just some bacta Warnings: 18+ content, MDNI! brief description of wounds, some Mando’a (translation at the end), no face reveal (sorry!), allusion to sexytime A/N: This was fun! This little drabble is for @janaispunk’s 1500 follower celebration. The prompt was “neck kisses” and our boy Din – I decided to play around with a younger Din and the prompt basically screamed for an inner conflict about his oath (His age isn't mentioned but in my head he's in his 20s here) Fun fact, the actual fic part is exactly 1500 words. Unbeta'd, be nice 🙏

It is a slow day today, boring even.

So boring that you decide to clean the reception, dust off the high-shine furniture while listening to the low hum of all the equipment in the adjacent room. Your name badge rustles with every swipe of your arm. The light above you flickers. It is late in the evening, close to the end of your shift.

To be quite frank, you like it like this.

Empty. Peaceful. Tranquil.

Working in a doctor’s office, you’re regularly presented with emergencies that drain your energy quickly. Yes, the actual healing is mostly done by droids, but you occasionally have to lend a hand. Some people don’t trust droids. Or they are scared so you end up taking care of them.

You understand to a degree. Sometimes the ‘doctor’ malfunctions and it’s your job to make sure it doesn’t harm the patients. And – because of your regular maintenance, you’d like to think – nothing has ever happened since you started your job here. Basically you are both a mechanic and the receptionist. And, well, the healer for certain patients that under no circumstance want a droid near them.

Such as the Mandalorian who has visited the office quite often now. In fact, you’re sure he deliberately stays close to the space port just to make sure he can see you when he is injured.

He never really talks much until you start your process. He likes to tell you about where his injuries come from. He’s a bounty hunter, that much you have figured out by yourself. Most of his wounds aren’t threatening to his health, scratches, bruises, an occasional concussion.

Today is no different. Just as you are about to take off your name tag, the door opens and he stumbles in. You’re familiar with the sound of his steps and take no time to get the med droid out of the exam room.

He plops down on the table and starts removing his cape.

“Well, what do we have this time?”

You don’t even need an answer. The hole ripped into the flight suit and the dark stain on his shoulder says enough. “Got bitten,” he states. With your head slightly tilted, you ask “You got bitten?” The helmet halts for a second, staring at you. He said what he said.

“May I?” you ask, offering a hand in taking off the metal plates that have to come off before you can tend to his wound. He nods and you carefully detach the shoulder plates. He hisses underneath the helmet. “I’m sorry,” you murmur. Placing the armor parts gently on the table next to him, you watch him take his gloves off. The gauntlets follow, as does the chest plate. His fingers feel for the closure of his vest. “Let me get some Bacta while you’re busy,” you stumble when you realize you’ve been staring at him for a while.

“I need you to take the shirt off as well…” you add as you’re already halfway in the storage to get equipment and hide your blushed cheeks. Technically there is enough Bacta in the exam room, but you know he needs privacy.

The topic of his creed has come up before – when you’ve been treating him for the first time. He had suffered a concussion and you wanted to check his head, but ultimately he refused and explained why. You didn’t understand then, you don’t now, but you don’t have to. You’re just here to make sure he isn’t dying, right?

When you return, he sits there in all his glory. Broad shoulders, a toned back, a slender waist and that damn helmet on his head. Tan, freckled skin and, rather pleasant to see, there’s no bruises on him this time. You’ve seen it all. The scars, bruises, new, old; scratches, cuts, blaster wounds. But a bite? That’s new.

With a hand on his wounded shoulder, you take out a small light to see if the wound shows any signs of infection. “I know we usually have a ‘don’t ask don’t tell’ agreement but I have to break that this time. How? And was that a bounty?” Again, he hisses as your fingers graze the skin, avoiding your touch by arching his back. “Yes,” he replies. What else would it have been, realistically? An animal? Not here. And certainly not with a bite wound up that high. Or this is a rather unfortunate bedroom accident.

You take the Bacta and spray it on the bite mark. It’s not too deep luckily. Neither has it hit any larger blood vessel nor are his precious muscles at risk. It probably hurts a lot, but he is used to pain. “Not a human, of course,” he says as the spray starts closing the little marks the teeth of the quarry have left in his flesh. With a damp wipe you wash away the blood on his shoulder, far enough away from the wound that he shouldn’t wince again. But he does. “Fierce warrior, huh? Is it that painful?” You half-mock, but your concern still audible underneath. This isn’t a wound that should hurt. Judging by his behavior, it’s uncomfortable.

“It’s not. It’s just … you” “Me?” You take a step back to look into that black visor. Sometimes you wonder how he looks like underneath it. If his face is as pretty as you’ve imagined. “I–” he stammers. “I’m not used to being touched. Not so close to the helmet.”

“Oh,” you let out. It’s not loud by any means but he’s close, so he hears it anyway. “Do you want to wipe your blood off of yourself?” You offer the cloth with an outreached arm. He hesitates, staring at the stained fabric you’re holding towards him. The pain in his shoulder slowly dissipates and the throbbing leaves. “N-no,” he finally says. His voice is low, breathy. You can clearly see that his breathing is more labored. Is he anxious?

The hand with the rag slowly retreats and you take a moment to process what he says. “Do you want me to–” He nods, so you continue wiping away the blood. The holes in his skin have closed up and now only a set of pink little spots remains. His blood has traveled far down his back and you gulp before slowly moving down with your hand. His skin is warm and you can’t deny that there is suddenly a weird tension between you two. He sits here, watching you touch his exposed skin. You’ve done it before but never so close to his neck. Is he sensitive? As the side of your hand brushes against his neck, he flinches. You do it again and the helmet turns to face you. For a few seconds you stare at each other.

You’re standing in between his knees, a respectful distance between your bodies otherwise. “I would’ve never guessed that,” you take your unoccupied hand and let your fingertips wander over the other side of his neck. He shivers and exhales sharply.

He leans into your touch. The beat of his heart is visible, a vein pulsing underneath your index. “Don’t,” he hushes. Don’t what?

You halt the movement of both of your hands. He hesitantly extends one arm and rests his hand on your waist. First you expect him to push you away, but rather than that – he pulls you closer. He straightens his back until you’re almost eye to eye. You know he’s broad, but being so close to him made that abundantly clear.

“Don’t stop,” he pleas. The softness in his voice could melt your heart. The cloth falls onto the table behind him, squelching upon impact with the cold metal surface. Both your hands rest on his skin, drawing small circles on his neck.

“Can I take that as confirmation you’ve been staying close on purpose?” Again, he nods. “I hope you’re not getting injured on purpose though,” you say with a smirk. A single chuckle emits from underneath the helmet. “I’m not, not any more at least.” you shake your head in amusement. “Could’ve just said something. Ask me out or something.” “And what would we do? I can’t take that helmet off.”

I have an idea.

Leaning forward, you stroke over his shoulders and down his arms, making way for your lips to brush his shoulder. “Osik,” he curses under his breath. You’ve heard him curse in Mando’a before so your smirk just grows. Your lips travel up his shoulder, until they finally reach his neck. “I mean,” you talk in between kisses, feeling him melt against your chest. “I know something we could do that doesn’t necessarily need the helmet to come off.” On your life, you swear you hear him whimper. The battle-hardened Mandalorian whimpers. Because you offer what he probably has been waiting for for a while now.

“Would you like that?” You tease. His hand travels down your waist. As it ends by your hip, his second hand joins. “Yeah.”

_________________________

Osik – shit

#1500 kisses challenge #janaispunk #din djarin x reader #din djarin #the mandalorian #din djarin fanfiction #star wars #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #wolke schreibt

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notmyneighbor · 23 hours

Text

r&d | yog sothoth x female reader

part 2/?

words | 3.3k

cw | tnmn nightmare mode, eventual smut, no explicit content in this chapter, vampire bite

ao3 link

taglist | @jazminetoad

You awaken to find yourself in strange surroundings.

Not odd in their appearance or nature, per se, but the fact that you are in them and you have no recollection of how you’ve gotten to this place.

You’re lying on a couch, soft and comfortable, in an office. There’s a woman seated behind a desk nearby, smiling at you when she sees your eyes open, rising from the desk to stand beside you.

You slowly sit up, blinking your eyes, finding them dry and sticky feeling. You glance at the clock mounted on the wall. Your appointment had been scheduled for two hours ago, give or take. You remember that, you recall walking into the building and presenting yourself at the desk, but beyond that…nothing. Absolutely blank.

“How are you feeling?”

“I fell asleep,” you say, still trying to get your bearings.

“Not uncommon, as most of our door guardians find themselves having trouble sleeping as a rule. Likely you were so comforted with being able to discuss your thoughts and feelings that it made you feel safe and secure and you were lulled into slumber.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know who you are. I don’t even remember coming to this room.”

“Again, a sign of exhaustion. It’s good that you’re participating in this program. You’ve understandably been extremely stressed. Your mind is trying to focus on the important things and give you a break from the less significant ones, which is exactly what you need. That will help decrease your stress levels and anxiety.”

Had you been that stressed out? You don’t really feel like you had. You’d just been doing this for the money. You remember that much, at least.

“And who are you? Sorry, I…”

“That’s quite alright. I’m one of the staff members working the trial, monitoring your progress. You were interviewed by one of the doctors here earlier.”

“I don’t remember.” You know you’re repeating yourself. It’s just so odd to have part of your memory completely erased. Wait. Why did you think this was done to you? A deliberate scrape of your mind, by someone like this seemingly placid woman still beaming at you? You absently rub one of your arms. It’s aching, but you don’t see anything visible to cause you distress. Surely they didn’t inject you with anything? It wasn’t that kind of trial.

“Your second appointment has already been scheduled. We’ll see you back here in one week.” She hands you a card and you glance at it briefly.

“That’s it? I can go?”

“Of course. You’ve done all that’s required for this session. It’s not as if you’re being held prisoner here. You’re free to leave whenever you’d like.” She smiles, but it doesn’t quite touch her eyes and you find her words more ominous than comforting, making you wonder if that earlier sensation that something has been done to you is, in fact, justified.

You lurch to your feet, suddenly wanting to be out of the office. That muffled, foggy, cottony feeling in your brain is really unpleasant and you want to be back in your apartment, surrounded by things you recognize. The woman opens the door and you emerge to find yourself in a featureless hallway. “To the right. Keep going straight. You’ll see the reception desk that you stopped at when you entered earlier.”

You follow her directions, relieved when you’re back outdoors again, with fresh air and sunlight. What a surreal experience that had been. You can’t believe you’d just knocked out on some therapist’s couch.

By the time you return home you’re feeling more alert, your mind clearer.

Your arm still aches.

***

A week later you’re back at the DDD facility for your next session.

Once again the receptionist steps around the desk and leads your forward. You’re surprised when you don’t stop near the room you’d been in last time. This one is further away. You lose track of the turns. You’d never find your way back through that maze of corridors without assistance.

“Um, are you sure this is where I’m supposed to be? I wasn’t here last time.”

“Yes, this is where you belong. Have a seat. The doctor will be in shortly.” The door closes behind you.

You glance at the padded chair that’s raised off the floor, featuring leg and arm rests. The long counter is devoid of any objects. A wheeled stool is tucked nearby. Blank walls. Strange. On impulse you turn and try the door handle. Locked.

Suddenly you hear a key being fitted into the slot and feel the knob turning and then a familiar face pokes into the room. You automatically step back to allow the man more space as he slips inside, closing the door behind him again.

“Dr. Afton?” You greet him, puzzled. He is one of the residents in the building you guard. A physicist, engaged to a school teacher. They lived together on the third floor.

“Why don’t you go have a seat?” He invites.

You don’t move. “What are you doing here?”

The dark haired man frowns. “I’m assisting with the trial. Now have a seat.” His tone is cooler now, less friendly.

“But you’re a physicist. I’m supposed to be seeing the psychologist, aren’t I?”

“You’re wasting valuable time by arguing. Sit.” Less friendly still. Definitely annoyed. You’ve never spoken much to him. He was always a bit quiet, aloof. So different from his bubbly fiancée. “Sit,” he snaps again, no longer bothering to conceal his growing temper.

Suddenly you find you’re no longer rooted to the spot, managing to make your way up into the chair.

The third floor resident settles onto the stool, setting the clipboard he’d been carrying on his lap. You can see something rectangular shaped bulging inside of one of the pockets of his lab coat.

“How have you been sleeping?”

“Fine.”

Afton begins depressing and releasing the tip of the ball point pen clutched between his fingers, looking at you over the tops of his lenses. “Just ‘fine’?”

“Yes,” you reply. “No trouble. It’s been a good week.”

“Maybe you need a higher dose. Henry was a lot more weak willed,” he murmurs out loud.

“What?” You know Henry. Well, not personally, but you know of him. He’d been the doorman at your post before you’d taken over for him.

“What do you recall from your last session?”

“Almost nothing. I fell asleep on a couch. Not this room.”

“Mmm-hmm.” He scribbles something on the paper in front of him.

“My arm hurt for a few days afterward.”

The doctor looks up. “That’s to be expected. It is a rather wide gauge needle.”

“I got injected with something?”

“Yes.”

Your eyes dart to the door behind the seated man. “Why was the door locked?”

Afton rises, smoothing down his tie, then walks over to you. “For your safety. And to assure your compliance. This is around the time last session that you started getting a little…feisty.”

You hear a switch being pressed and your limbs are instantly restrained.

“What’s happening? Let me go!”

“Let’s not go through all that again. One of the unfortunate side effects of this experiment. This tedious memory loss. Having to explain myself over and over again. No one can hear you. You’re not escaping. So you might as well relax.”

“Does Mia know about this?”

Afton smirks. “Oh, she most certainly does. She works for the DDD, after all.”

“But…she’s a schoolteacher…”

“A teacher, yes. For the doppels.”

“Wh…what?”

“You’ll have to give me a moment while I adjust the dose. I wasn’t counting on raising it this early. But it seems you can tolerate it.”

You stare open mouthed as the man withdraws the case in his pocket and begins drawing up some strange, glowing liquid into a syringe. “What is that? You can’t inject me with that!” You futilely struggle against your bonds.

“I can and I will.” It’s almost laughable when he taps the barrel to clear it of bubbles. Cautious about preventing an air embolism, when the contents themselves were who knows what toxic substance.

“Who are you? If you’re not a physicist…”

Afton sighs. “This, again, too? Well, it can’t be helped. Stop wiggling.”

Your eyes widen in alarm as you feel his hand clamping down on you, bracing your limb while the edge of the needle rests against the blue vein threaded beneath the skin.

“See you—”

“—William,” you blurt out suddenly, and he freezes, the needle still not puncturing the skin. “Your first name is William.”

He cocks his head to one side thoughtfully. “Interesting. There is some memory retainment after all. Dangerous, too. Can’t have you spilling out all of the DDD’s secrets, now, can we?” Metal pierces your arm as he abruptly sinks the needle inside, thumb depressing the plunger until the barrel is empty. A strange hot and cold sensation floods the area, running up and down your arm.

“Have a nice journey.” He steps back and you struggle against the sudden drowsiness that floods your system, fighting to keep your eyelids open, the last things you see are Afton’s pale gray eyes, watching you fall into the abyss of oblivion.

***

Your palms automatically slap out to steady yourself as you regain consciousness, finding the hard edge of a desk in front of you. You’re back in the booth. The other booth, in that other reality. The memories come flooding back. You’ve been here before. This strange universe where the neighbors themselves are monsters.

“Fucking Afton,” you curse, rubbing your arm. Tricked again. That smug bastard. Why did you keep going back to that damn trial?

Money, remember? The lure of the almighty dollar.

It isn’t worth it. No matter how much it is, it’s not worth it. That’s assuming they’d even cough up the dough. Maybe they can promise that exorbitant amount because they know you won’t live long enough to ever attain it. Henry had supposedly retired, but you don’t know if you believe that anymore, either.

And now you have a new piece of infortmation: Mia Stone was teaching the doppels. Teaching them what, you can’t fathom. Why would the DDD want anything to do with them beyond eradicating that dangerous species? You can’t even reconcile the idea of the blonde woman being part of something so sinister. Afton being evil? Yeah, that’s not nearly as much of a stretch. But Mia? She baked cookies and volunteered at the soup kitchen and planted trees for inner city children, for fuck’s sake. Kind to everyone. Now she was a villain as well? Was anyone trustworthy? How many people were in on this?

Speaking of Mia, her counterpart in this realm, the Asian who’s eerily beautiful, in spite of her pupilless eyes and visible sets of teeth along each cheek, is now standing at your window. She’s submitted both her entry request and her identification card, and she’s on the day’s list of expected travelers.

Her appearance is a little less difficult to verify than some of the others, you’d noticed last time. There’s no need to count horns or compare tattoos like you must for some of the other unusual residents. But the differences can still be subtle. It takes you a long time to study and compare what you have on file. You can feel her impatience but you don’t want to take any chances. Who knows what consequences messing something up here might have?

Yan Luo shifts and her golden earrings catch the light, the spikes on her crown shining menacingly. You hastily slide her card back and buzz her in. A series of imposter neighbors follow this genuine one. The grave digger, missing ears. The young girl, levitating and crowned in a halo, but with an extra eye poking between her bangs. The witch with her many tattooed eyes with a single incorrect letter in her name on her entry request. One after another they come, and each time you summon the DDD to remove them. You wonder how the hazmat suited men get here. If they are injected with similar chemicals, or if they are permanent fixtures like the residents themselves.

You can’t stop yourself from heaving a sigh of relief when you see a familiar face, the last person scheduled on the list for the day. The vampire has returned.

“You’re back,” he says, offering a sharp toothed smile. You don’t doubt it’s really him, but you verify his information anyway. “Sorry. I’m not happy you’re back for your own sake, but I’m glad you’re okay.”

“I know what you meant.” You return his smile, sliding his documents back through the slot.

“So. What’s happened since last I saw you?”

“I woke up and couldn’t remember a thing. Came back for a second session, and wound up right back here again. I started to remember some things right before, though. And he gave me a higher dose of…whatever that stuff is Afton injects me with. Said I could tolerate it.”

“Bastard.”

“My thoughts exactly. What about you?”

Yog shrugs. “Same old. Hunting has been poor. Nothing today.”

“No humans?”

“None. They’re getting scarcer.”

“I wish I could talk to them. Maybe they could answer some questions.” You pause. “What about the cleaners? Have you ever tried…I mean, they’re human, right?”

“No. Too risky. Attacking the DDD seems like a really bad idea.”

“You’re probably right.” You notice the pale figure staring at a fixed point below your face. Your throat. “You’re hungry.”

“I’ll survive.” Another careless shrug. “I’ll settle for whatever I can get tomorrow. Likely one of the fiends.”

“You want…you want a bite? A sip? I don’t know what the correct terminology is.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t ask that of you. It would hardly be fair. I’m not even sure if it would count as sustenance, since you’re technically not a resident here. Although you do have physical substance, so…”

“You’ve been kind to me. It seems like

I could try to help you out.”

“You’re not afraid?”

“Sure I am. But compared to what else I’ve been going through? I think I can handle it.”

The man clad all in black hesitates. “Alright. I suppose we can try.”

You hit the buzzer and then he enters the booth.

“Hi,” you greet him shyly, as if you have not just been speaking through the window. This felt different, talking face to face with no barrier between you. You can feel the eyes secured into the steel shutter’s frame watching you and you wonder if this is really the best place to do this.

“Hi,” he returns. He looks almost as nervous as you feel.

“What do you think would happen if I tried to leave the booth?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’m going to try it.”

“Okay.”

“You’ll have to back up,” you murmur apologetically.

“Right. Sorry.” He steps back and you move out of the booth, then pause. Nothing happens. No bolt of lightning, no DDD reprimand.

“Well, that answers that question,” you offer with a nervous laugh.

“Would you rather come upstairs? Quachil is out right now, causing misfortune. She’ll be at that awhile.”

“That’s right. You live with your daughter in this realm. She causes misfortune in my world, too,” you confide wryly. “I guess some things aren’t different.”

You follow the vampire to the elevator and travel to the second floor. He unlocks the door and flips on a lightswitch, then gestures for you to enter.

You’re not sure exactly what you’d expected.

No sign of a coffin, although you suppose that wouldn’t be in a living room anyway. What’s so unusual is how normal it looks, traditional furnishings just done in a different color palette than you’re accustomed to, all varying shades of black and charcoal and gray with crimson accents.

“It’s um…it’s very gothic,” you say. “It suits you.”

“I suppose it does.” He closes the door behind him. “Did you want to sit? Maybe it would be more comfortable for you.”

“Oh, I guess so.” You sit gingerly on the edge of the sofa. Crushed velvet. Your fingers rub over the fabric, making it dark and then light and then dark again. The lamp nearby is a similar color, with a beaded shade and crystals dripping from its edge.

Yog settles beside you. There’s something very elegant in the way he does this; reminiscent of some Victorian man come right out of the era. You wonder how old he really is. Amazing to think that this is some immortal creature.

“Do you have to avoid sunlight?”

“Yes.”

“Holy water?”

“I couldn’t say. I’ve never been doused with it.”

“What about crosses?”

“I’m not religious, either.”

“Can you turn into a bat? Or mist?”

“Neither.”

“Does a stake through the heart really do the trick?”

“I would imagine that would ‘do the trick’ and spell any living thing’s demise,” he responds wryly.

“Hmmm.” You fuss with the sofa some more, your eyes shyly meeting his. “I’m sorry if I’m being rude. It’s just not everyday you get to meet a vampire.”

“It’s perfectly normal to be curious.” He flicks his hair away from his eyes with a toss of his head. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

“I know,” you say softly. “You’re really hungry, aren’t you?”

“Starving, to be honest.”

“I’m ready,” you say, even though you’re not.

He nods, edging closer. His fingers graze the side of your throat. You’d thought his touch would be cool, but he feels pleasantly warm. “Hold still,” he cautions, and for a moment, you’re reminded of Afton, poised to inject you. Then his lips press against your skin and his fangs breech your flesh and you forget all about the scientist that had sent you here.

It hurts, but in an exquisite way, like scratching an itchy spot raw, like peeling a scab that’s not yet ready to part, like a thousand other forbidden things that should not feel good, but do. You gasp and his hand braces the shoulder of your opposite arm and he sucks. You can feel the blood leaving your body, drawn into the vampire’s ravenous mouth. Your heart is pounding. So much trust required in this venture. What if he takes too much? What if he can’t stop?

“Enough,” you hear Yog murmur, and you think it is more for himself than your own benefit. His face lifts, still close to yours, twin trails of crimson leaking from his mouth. He wipes these away, licking his fingers, and a little thrill goes through you. There’s something sensual about him savoring every last drop of you, as if you are a delicious banquet for him.

“I can taste what Afton injected you with.”

You frown. “You can? Is that safe?”

“It’s…” His voice trails off. “It’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted in my existence.”

“Oh,” you exclaim. You’re not sure how else to respond. Your neck is tingling, and truth be told, you’re throbbing and tingling a bit elsewhere as well. The vampire’s lips are still very near your own. His hand is still supporting your shoulder.

“It makes me wonder. Maybe physical things can be transported back and forth. Not just your mind.” His hand relaxes and you watch as he produces a key tucked under his shirt sleeve, unfastening the padlock around his neck and pressing it into your palm. “Try to take this back. An experiment of our own.”

“Okay.” You feel yourself growing drowsy, your eyelids drooping and the vampire grabs you again. “It’s wearing off. The injection. I can feel it…”

“Fuck. Because I drank from you. Shortened the duration.”

“Yog…” You touch his cheek. It’s peaceful, the return trip. Soothing, like being on a boat in the middle of the ocean. It reminds you of fishing trips with your grandfather when you were younger. Rocking on the waves. Back and forth. The setting sun lighting the sea on fire. Pink clouds like cotton candy. The scent of salt.

“Hold onto it tightly. I’ll see you when you get back. Be safe.” His hand curls over yours, tucking the pendant inside more tightly.

Back and forth. You lean forward and sway back slightly. Again. Your lips brush the vampire’s. Ichor eyes watch as you fade away.

#thats not my neighbor #that’s not my neighbor #yog sothoth x reader #yog sothoth #yog sothoth x you #tnmn nightmare mode #dr w afton #tnmn fanfic

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captainwans · 23 hours

Text

SAME OLD LANG SYNE.

— ALEX TURNER.

pairing: am!alex turner x fem!actress reader

timeline: 2014

summary: the pair connects by a shared history of what was and what could be, where one remembers while the other comes to realization.

part two: oh, sweet arabella!

warning: vulgar language, neurotic reader, and teeth-rotting fluff between the pair.

word count: 4,9k | ( picture not mine! )

note: i’ve changed the storyline a little bit, and i hope this won’t get too confusing. i really liked the idea of cindy and miles being together and i also hope this series makes sense.

arabella series

masterlist!

…. [Y/N]’S HEELS CLANKED LOUDLY AGAINST THE CORK FLOOR, THE SOUND OF HER SHOES ECHOING ACROSS THE STUDIO HALL AS SHE FASTENED HER PACE. The actress internally cursed at herself for being late and feeling disappointed in herself that this would be the group’s first impression of her. She thought she was prepared. She marked this day on her calendar and planned on taking the plane two days early. She had a plan. But boy, was she wrong. She got a call from her assistant two days before, asking her why she hadn’t shown up to the studio. She ended up getting a lecture, telling her how she messed up with the dates and that they were all expecting her. [Y/N] went spiral, eyes almost building out of their sockets as she realized the original date. Being her neurotic self, as well as a chronic perfectionist, she dropped everything she was doing and booked the next flight that was leaving in a few hours. She brushed off her suggestion that they could wrap it up and take it to the next day. She refused and told her that they would see her under an hour sharp, leaving her assistant dumbfounded.

“[Y/N], it’s fine. They understand that we messed up the dates. We’ll take it tomorrow—” Denise, her assistant, reassured with a warm tone, but ended up getting abruptly interrupted by the actress' frantic tone.

“No! Denny, stay where you are. Don’t do anything. I will be there in an hour. Ok? Bye.” [Y/N] stressed through her phone, face grimacing as she watched the clock on the wall. She hung up, not letting Denise finish her sentence as she dashed through her closet to get her suitcase.

The actress arrived right on time just like she promised, but her anxiety was on the roof at the thought of everyone’s faces, even the group, which she was ecstatic and nervous to meet. She couldn’t exactly pinpoint where she had met them, especially the lead singer. She was so sure that she must have interacted with him, but whenever she recalls the past her mind gets blank. It also applied to the other members and she remembered watching a picture of them, finding some familiarity that she couldn’t explain. She talked about it to Cindy, but it was to no avail.

"Apparently, Arabella is about me? That’s all I’m hearing and reading about on the internet. Do you know them? Miles, you know them. Aren’t you in a band with one of them? They’re really popular internationally. Arctic Monkeys.” [Y/N] told her best friends, her face glued to the computer screen as she read the lyrics of the supposed song that is about her.

Miles nodded with a hum, sitting beside his girlfriend as she had her legs draped over his thighs. Cindy’s eyes sparked, her lips forming into a curved smirk as she watched her co-star. She shifted her body to the side, sitting cross-legged before voicing her thoughts, ignoring Miles’ disapproving look. “Hmmm….Maybe, maybe not.” she sighed, giggling at the end, making her best friend turn her head toward her with a confused look before she went back on her computer.

“You need to tell her, love,” Miles whispered, making Cindy stifle back a laugh as she shook her head. “And ruin all the fun? She needs to figure this out for herself, baby. Besides, I love her clueless side. It truly fascinates me how she remembers all of her lines, but she can’t even remember a face. Heck, I mean she could’ve met him without even knowing.” she said in a low tone, looking back at her girlfriend with a funny look.

Her heart stumbled upon its own rhythm, and she didn’t know if it was because she was going to meet the band or from almost gasping for air as she ran with her high heels toward the backdoor to lead her to the set. Maybe a mix of both, she thought. A hard, quick pulse roared in her throat making her clear her throat, awkwardly passing an employee who looked at her with concern. She turned to glance at them, but once she turned her head she didn’t notice another person heading her way. Her body collided with a hard chest, making her lose her balance as she fell down the hard floor with a thud.

[Y/N] felt blood rush through her ears as she profusely apologized to the person in front of her. “I-I’m so sorry—” she wobbled with her words, her lips morphing into a downward pout. She felt their rough hand hoisting her up to her feet, their small chuckles filling inside her eardrums.

“No, please. I didn’t see where I was going.” The actress slid down the ends of her dress, her eyes slowly meeting theirs, making her breath hitch as she recognized him. Her eyes widened, crimson dancing across her cheeks. “Oh…” she trailed off, rubbing the back of her neck as she shyly looked at him. “Well, that’s a good first impression, right?” she chirped with a soft laugh, cursing inside her head at her high-pitched tone at the end.

Jamie’s smile widened, eyes sparking as he looked at the actress with a warm expression. “You’re still the bubbly [Y/N] that I remember.” he beamed at her, making her tilt her head at him in confusion. His face faltered for a second, confused by the fact that she couldn’t recognize him. He brushed off his confusion by clearing his throat, which went unnoticed by the latter as he introduced himself. “I’m Jamie, the guitarist.” he introduced himself, bringing his hand toward her to shake, which she happily returned.

“Nice to meet you, Jamie! Oh, I hope I’m not too late for filming. I’m so sorry, I somehow messed up the dates and my assistant called me a few hours ago telling me that we were supposed to film today, and now—I’m rambling, fuck..Oh! Sorry.” she babbled, covering a hand over her mouth as a curse word emitted from her lips making Jamie laugh.

The guitarist placed a gentle hand on her arm with a deep chuckle. “You’re all good, love. We don’t mind, really. It was much needed to extend the filming. We’re all jet-lagged from the flight.” He reassured her as the pair walked out of the studio with Jamie opening the door for her, for which she warmly thanked him.

The sun kissed her delicate features, making her squint her eyes as she walked toward the main set. She saw Denise waving her arms, making her return the same gesture as her eyes lit up at seeing her assistant. Her eyes darted across the ambiance, eyes finally landing on the group, whose eyes were already on the pair walking toward them making her self-conscious.

Alex held his breath before slowly exhaling as he took in her presence, his mind wandering back to their previous interaction from almost ten years ago. He remembered being so devastated with the incident with the paparazzi, as well as losing the sight of her when they forfecully had to part ways and for not trying harder to catch her.

Alex’s face morphed into a deep scowl, feeling a fire erupting inside his chest. He pushed a paparazzi out of his way as small curses emitted from his lips, his eyes darted across the old pubs in look of the actress. He felt a prickling feeling in his chest, squeezing his lungs making him let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he found his friends with his shoulders slumped.

Jamie gave him a frown, looking at his friend’s devastated state. “I’m sorry, mate. You just missed them.” he told him, his frown turning deeper, feeling bad for Alex and for [Y/N], who looked pretty shaken up by the incident.

Alex’s eyes widened, his feet sauntering backwards. “Did they leave just now?” he asked, his eyes tinted with hope as he watched his friend nod. Before he could answer his question, he turned his body the opposite way and sprinted toward the exit.

His heart was furiously beating against his chest, hearing his heartbeat loudly echoing inside his ears as he used all of his strength to open the metal door. He was immediately hit with the cold wind and he frantically looked around him, before noticing a car a few feet away from him driving off. He saw her by the window, making him dash toward the car. “[Y/N]!” he called out, halting with his steps as he watched the car disappearing from his sight.

“Fuck!” he fumed, kicking a crumbled soda and brought both of his hand to his forehead, aggressively brushing out some of his hair away from his face as he looked at nothing in particular.

Alex snapped out of his daydream, blinking a few times and watching her greeting the others, including the staff and crew members. A small smile curved his lips unknowingly at her kind nature, which was a feature that he noticed in her when they first met. His eyes shamelessly trailed over her figure through his glasses, the red dress hugging her curves like water before catching a glimpse of her beautiful features. His stomach swarmed with butterflies, her graceful smile glowing like the sun as she was enthusiastically greeting the drummer.

[Y/N] grinned, eyes crinkling as she subconsciously pulled down the long sleeves of her dress. She covered her hands with the material and brushed a few hair strands away from her face before greeting them with a polite smile. “There she is! The living legend.” she heard one of them say, causing a dust of crimson dance across her cheeks as she was pulled into a gentle embrace. She felt a sudden deja vu with the way he expressed his beam, but that quickly disappeared as it rapidly appeared.

She giggled, returning the gesture by hugging him back just as tightly. “Oh, I don’t know about legend.” she said with a deep chuckle before pulling away, causing a fit of protests coming out from Jamie’s mouth making them all laugh.

Nick came forward and politely greeted her, making Jamie pull Matt to the side. “She doesn’t remember us.” he whispered into his ear, making Matt look at his bandmate with a surprised look. The pair moved their gaze away from each other toward the actress, watching her introducing herself to Nick by shaking her hand.

Matt leaned closer to Jamie, opening his mouth to voice his thoughts. “Not even Alex?” he said in a small voice, making Jamie shake his head with his lips pressed into a thin line. They shared a look, before the guitarist shrugged his shoulders. “If I remember correctly, I don’t think Alex got to the stage of introduction himself. You remember the paps?” Matt’s mouth morphed into an “o” as he remembered the incident, his handsome features turning into a frown.

Blood rushed through her ears, flushed at Nick’s compliments. She smiled widely at his praise, hands placed on her heart as she said her thanks before moving her attention to the other guy beside Nick. She noticed his reserved nature, making her tilt her head to the side as she tried to search for his eyes through the glasses. Her heart palpitated at the smile he gave her, making her shyly smile back as she approached him. “It it mine turn now, Ms. famous?” he chimed with a cheeky smile, making the others laugh, including the actress who burst into a fit of giggles.

“Oh, yes! You’re the last one, and you know what they say….Save the best for the last.” she chimed with a wink, bringing her hand for him to shake while she had a war inside her mind trying to figure out where she got that sudden burst of confidence.

Alex’s smile widened, deep chuckles emitting from his lips as he brought his calloused hands to shake her hand. “I’m Alex, also known as the frontman of the band.” He politely greeted, giving her hand a little squeeze. It was hard enough for him to ignore an electric spark inside his body at her touch.

[Y/N] felt her skin tingle at his warm touch, eyes trailing over his features as she watched him resting his sun glasses on the top of his head with his other hand. She caught her breath at his handsome face, feeling her heart skip a beat at his stare. She hummed with a gentle smile, tasting his name on her lips and exhaled, his name for some reason making her feel content. “Alex. It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m [Y/N], w-which you probably know.” she bashfully greeted, cursing internally at her stuttering at the end.

Alex rubbed her hand with his thumb, his finger tracing circles on her skin as he let out another laugh. “Oh, I definitely know. I loved your last project. You were phenomenal, love!” he complimented, his hand leaving hers in the process as he watched her smiling widely at him, noticing her heated cheeks radiating from the sun.

“Very phenomenall that Alex wrote a song about you.” Nick interjected, hands inside his pockets as he looked at his bandmate with a look, wiggling his eyebrows making everyone laugh, including the actress, who was a furiously flustered at the attention.

Alex’s felt blood rush through his face, causing him to clear his throat before voicing his thoughts. He crossed his arms like two swords, “People need to know about this masterpiece. I heard the views and streams increased when the album realised.” he said proudly, smile curving upwards making realization hit the actress like a wave.

“Now, it makes sense why fans started commenting on my Instagram if I’ve listened to Arabella.” she thought out loud, a small laugh erupting inside her throat.

Jamie joined her laughter, “When I think of it, the movie got ten times as many viewers compared to when it first came out. I read about it in an article or something of our album review.” he added into the conversation, making her eyes wide in surprise.

“All thanks to you,” she sang, gracefully bowing making them break into another session of laughter. Alex returned her gesture by placing a hand on his chest and bowing his head, making the actress giggle as she watched him with fond eyes.

The laughter soon died down around them as the pair continued to stare at each other before they were interrupted by a cough. Everyone whirled their head toward the sound, watching the director making an appearance causing [Y/N] to step forward to greet him. “I see you’ve all finally met. Nice to meet you, [Y/N], and don’t fret about it. I know, Densie told me. We want you at location two for filming.” he director ordered with a kind smile, making the actress nod her head.

[Y/N] turned her attention back to the group, her lip pressed together with a thoughtful look as she studied every member. She hummed and gave them a kind smile. “It was nice meeting all of you. Hope we see each other soon!” she chirped making them mirror her actions.

Her eyes lingered longer on Alex, whose eyes were focused yet soft. She watched him giving her a warm smile, making her turn her head away toward her assistant with a smile resting on her lips. Denise gave her a look, a smile curving the assistant’s lips and turned around to walk toward their location with the actress hot on her heel.

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ▹ ▹ ▹

Alex was finished filming for a scene and was rushed to another location where he was going to film together with the actress. Nervous was an understatement, in fact he was almost shitting his pants and sprayed endless amount of cologne and fixed his hair before entering their new filming location. He was definitely a little upset that she didn’t recognize him, but that was merely his fault because he never got to tell her his name.

The sound of her laughter made his heart skip a beat, a smile curving upwards as he entered the set. He politely greeted some of the crew members before his eyes landed on the actress, who had her back facing him. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding before sauntering toward her. “Ok, Alex, act cool.” he whispered to himself, nodding and brushing his sweaty palms on his leather jacket.

[Y/N] had her eyes closed, feeling the brush caressing over her eyelids and adding finishing touches on her makeup. She was nervously fiddling with the sleeves of her dress as her mind wandered back to the lead singer. The way his hand brushed against hers was enough for her body to ignite a spark, and she became deeply immersed with him. Something gnawed at the back of her brain, nagging and prickling at the sense of familiarity and she couldn’t put a finger on it.

She was so stuck in a trail of her own thoughts that she didn’t notice her makeup stepping back and packing her bag. A thud from the hairspray bottle hitting the floor is what snapped her out of her state and she locked eyes with the makeup artist, whose were were apologetic and timid. The actress gently brushed her off and picked up the bottle to give it to her before she walked over to the kitchen counter.

[Y/N] leaned her back against the counter and folded her arms in front of her chest as she looked down, noticing her heels were a little dirty from stepping on mud. She heard her name being called, and she turned to see Denise throwing a pack of cigarettes toward her which she gracefully caught with both of her hands. She hummed, eyes studying the small box with narrowed eyes. “Is this real cigarettes?" She mainly asked to herself since she was always used to smoke herb cigarettes when she was filming, but she also didn’t mind if they were real and she had a habit of smoking here and there once in awhile.

“I hope so. I’m kinda craving for a cig right now.” A deep voice filled inisde her ears, making her heart stammer against her chest as she turned her head to him, who was standing in front of her. Their close distance made her jump and she hit her back harshly against the counter causing a small gasp emit from her lips. The others, including her assistant and some of the crew members laughed. “You’re such a scaredy cat!”

Alex felt his stomach clench at her startled state and respectfully stepped back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” he apologized, eyes tinted with guilt. He watched her brush him off with a hand gesture, her small chuckles vibrating from her chest.

“It’s alright. I’m always jumpy, and to answer your question, yes, they are very much real.” she reassured, cheeks hot as she referred to the cigarettes, taking one stick out and placing it on her lips. She patted her waist and looked beside her for a lighter, eyebrows furrowed as her mind went back to a few moments ago, wondering if Denise gave her a lighter or not.

The sound of a lighter igniting made her turn her head, looking at Alex covering one hand over the small fire as he gave her a smile. “May I?” His smile took her breath away, leaving her speechless and she could only nod before inched closer. [Y/N] rested the cigarette between her fingers with a hum, blowing out the smoke by turning her head to the side to avoid him inhaling the smoke. She turned her head back to him, already finding him looking at her the same way she was looking at him —- tenderness.

She brought the cigarette toward him, which he gently took out of her hand. She felt his fingers brush against hers, the warmth of his skin quickly disappearing as it appeared. The pair continued by taking turns with a comfortable silence surrounding them, blocking out the sounds from the studio as they immersed themselves with each other.

“I hope this isn’t weird or anything.” Alex broke the ice, making [Y/N] frown with confusion. “What do you mean?” she softly asked him, head tilted to the side as she rested both of her hands on the counter.

The lead singer let out a flustered chuckle, feeling his words getting stuck inside his throat. “With the song and all that.” he tried to explain and internally cursed for the choices of his words, feeling blood rushing through his ears.

[Y/N]’s eyes crinkled from smiling. She shook her head, giving him a simper. “Oh God no. This is not weird at all. In fact, I’m very honored to have a song written about me. It’s nice to see someone else’s love for the movie as much as I do.” she admitted, leaving the counter as she found herself inching closer that she could smell his cologne.

With every close step she took his breath away, and the way she simply smiled at him set fireworks from his soul. His heart was beating against his chest and she was pretty sure that she could hear the way it was furiously pounding. He licked his lips before speaking, his brown eyes gazing into hers. “That’s good to hear.” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, but she heard him nonetheless.

[Y/N] studied him, feeling herself getting self-conscious with the way he was looking at her. “What?” she puzzled at him, cocking her head to the side. She felt crimson painting her cheeks and she scrunched her nose. “I can’t tell if you’re staring at me for the sake of staring, or planning a murder inside your head.” she voiced her thoughts, making Alex chuckle.

Alex puffed out the smoke, slowly exhaling before giving her a look she couldn’t quite decipher. “You really don’t remember me, do you?” he genuinely asked, eyes soft as he watched her face falter.

[Y/N] furrowed her eyebrows, eyes studying every feature of his handsome face. She stepped closer, their lips a few inches away. She brought her hand to rest on his, gently using her fingers to grab the hold of the small stick as she looked at him. She noticed a small mole under his lips, eyes trailing over his slightly chapped lips before she searched for his brown eyes. She felt his hot breath fan over her face, the scent of mint and cigarettes and that was enough for her mind to wander back to her suppressed memories.

The smell of cigarettes and mint fanned her face and her eyes trailed over to his lips, wanting so badly to have his chapped lips against her. She felt his hand drifting up to hold the side of her neck, cupping her cheek as she melted into his touch. She rested her forehead against his, savoring his touch and the intimate moment between them.

A wave of emotions hit her like a tidal wave, her mind taking in every detail of their interactions and she blinked as realization engulfed her. Her mind traveled back to the old pub in Sheffield, from rembering helping the long-haired musician to ignite his cigarette to him protecting her from the paparazzi. Her heart did a backflip, beating vigorously as she felt herself growing hot.

[Y/N] turned her head to him, who was already looking at her with a fond look. She hummed, placing her hands behind her back. “Did I look good on the dancefloor?” she cheekily asked, making Alex laugh with a nod.

“You did look good on the dancefloor. In fact, you outshined the crowd with your dancing,” he admitted, biting his lip as he looked into her eyes, making her let out a sound of satisfaction.

“Oh my God, it’s you,” she breathed out, eyes softening as she looked at him and grabbed his arm. A growing smile reached her lips. “The cute long-haired musician.” she said with a giddy laugh as she bounced on her feet. Alex felt his cheeks flush at the name and grinned, his eyes lighting up like a christmas tree as he looked at her. “You remember?”

[Y/N]’s eyes gleamed as she nodded her head eagerly, “I knew it was something familiar about you—all of you actually. I just couldn’t pinpoint exactly where, and everything about that night–well, Sheffield was all blurry and I have a memory of a goldfish.” she tried to explain, but ended wobbling with her words making the singer chuckle.

“But….I finally got your name after almost ten years.” she bubbled with a grin, pushing away some hair from her face. “I’m gonna be having a talk with Miles and Cindy about gatekeeping you.” she said in a dramatic tone, making Alex’s shoulders shake from laughter.

Alex gave her a funny look, “Gatekeep? They didn’t tell you about me? Not even Miles?” he asked, face scrunching as he thought of his friend for not mentioning him.

The actress shrugged, “I guess they did and when I think of it, I’ve heard your name, but I didn’t know they talked about you, or any of the members, really, to be honest. You didn’t get the chance to tell me your name and I was so upset that night that I suppressed everything that happened with the paps and everything.” she told him with a breathy chuckle, face deep in thought with her lips pressed into a thin line. “And Cindy decided to shut her mouth about it, which she’s in trouble for by the way, and now I’m here just realizing things.” she finished almost breathless, moving her eyes to look at him.

Alex’s lips curved upwards, nodding his head at the information. “What a story,” he said, making [Y/N] giggle with a nod. “Yeah, and I’m still processing here,” she joked, leaning her back against the counter and placing the cigarette on the ash tray beside her.

Alex shook his head and chuckled, causing a smile forming on her delicate features. The sound of his laughs made her stomach swirl with butterflies, as well as pink dust dancing across her cheeks. A comfortable silence engulfed around the pair, with the sounds of clamours echoing through the studio. Alex looked back at her, noticing her having her attention on the camera crew setting up for their next shoot. He watched her moving her head back to him, making them share a soft smile.

“I remember so being devastated after what happened with the paps. We got divided and I just lost you. I went looking for you, but Jamie told me you guys left.” he broke the silence between them, grabbing the lifeless cigarette from the ash tray to his lips.

Her eyes softened, resting her hand on his arm by gently rubbing circles down his arm. She hummed, “Well, I’m here now.” she softly said in a low tone, but enough for him to hear. “I’m not going anywhere this time.”

Alex’s eyes formed into a youthful glee when she said it, stifling back a grin on his handsome features as he looked at her. “Good.” he said, feeling his heart doing a backflip at the way she was looking at him.

Before [Y/N] could open her mouth, a loud clap behind them made the pair whirl their head toward the sound. The director had a beaming simper etched onto his features as he neared the duo. “I see you’ve already started without me. I think we’re going to use that. You guys really have chemistry!” the director chimed, pointing a finger at them.

The pair shared a flustered smile before moving their gaze toward the director, and the actress moved her eyes to her assistant, who gave her a knowing look as she wiggled her eyebrows at her. [Y/N] bit back a smile, biting her lower lip and averting her eyes away from Denise to the director before voicing her thoughts. She cleared her throat, earning the director’s attention making her cheeks tint a dust of pink. “Uh…I know the music video solely focuses on Alex, but is there anything specific you want me to do?” she asked, shifting her body to the side to snatch the small stick from Alex toward her lips.

The director snapped his fingers, “Exactly that!” she said, pointing a finger at her as she exhaled the smoke before letting out a laugh. “You’re gonna smoke some cigarettes, look mysterious just like the song displays. We’re thinking about doing what the song says to get a clear view of who Arabella is, and we’re also gonna add some clips from your movie.” the director explained, making her nod her head as she flicked the smoke on the ash tray.

“Great! Let’s do some magic, guys!” the director told everyone, walking back to his original position as he ordered the camera crew to get ready.

Alex and the actress shared another smile before the singer brought his hand to her. “You ready, my lady?” he asked her with a cheeky look, which she happily responded with a soft smile as she intertwined their hands. “I was born ready, baby. Let’s do this.”

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judesmoonbeauty · 1 day

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Alfons Sylvatica Chapter 6 Semi-Summary

This is a fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors and translation inaccuracies. This is an extremely pared down SUMMARY of each chapter. I am roughly translating this with out much research other than specific lines from certain scenes. Why? Because it's a huge task to translate a main route chapter line by line. So, this is what we're working with, and I appreciate your understanding ♥︎ Cybird owns everything. Re-blogs are appreciated, but please do not post my summaries elsewhere. Minors: Please DNI or consume this content. CW: Dub-Con Dividers: @/natimiles

Kate, Roger and Liam walk into the dimly lit bar that was filled with the scent of smoke, alcohol and perfume. Liam suggested that they all go into the bar with disguises to blend in more, so she put on a hat and glasses that Liam coordinated for her. They lurk and search for Alfons with their glances, when someone tells Alfons that they want to see another one today and Alfons calls them impatient as he’s only on his first drink, and to wait until he’s a little less sober. Kate spots him with lots of women hanging onto him, and many men are around chatting and laughing, while they smoke something that Kate isn’t sure if it’s a cigarette or not.

Roger looks disappointed saying he’s at it again today while Liam observes that it looks like he’s just getting started. Kate realizes that their one night stands are just drop in the bucket compared to this dizzying experience, not that the prick she feels in her chest actually means anything to her. She tells Liam and Roger that this isn’t exactly a weakness of his and they agree because it’s common knowledge that Alfons goes around on the social scene. As she watches him through her lenses, she can tell that while he is smiling, he’s not really smiling because even his pleasant smile looks so cold to her. The discomfort she felt in her chest before comes back, because he appears to be here in order to let loose, but she doesn’t feel that’s the case. Roger asks her if she’s worried about Alfons, she says that she’s not worried, but some how she feels like his heart isn’t there sometimes, and that for someone who says he likes to have fun doesn’t seem to be having fun, so she is curious.

Soon she spots Alfons leaving the back of the bar with a few others, and when she tells the guys to follow him, Roger suggests that she doesn’t follow him out that back door. Liam says that they may catch him doing something naughty, and Roger agrees, but Kate goes anyway. In the alley, Kate can hear the voices of the men and women grow louder as she climbs up further the battered stairs, and reaching the door from where the voices are coming from, she finds thinly veiled canopied beds with several men and women entering them.

Alfons: …..Heh. You’re a very bad girl for following me all the way here.

Kate: !?

Alfons emerges from behind a curtain and slips his hand around her waist.

Kate: Alfons!

A sweet aroma fills the room and when it hits her mouth, she can’t tell if it’s a smoke or vapor, but when she inhaled it deeply her vision wavered dizzily.

Alfons: You’re following me was so obvious. You shouldn’t have done that robin.

Kate can’t even respond to him because his voice sounds both very near and far from her. A woman who is dressed in lingerie asks Alfons who the girl he is with, and they are sure she’d love to play with them since she’s probably been through something too and she can forget about it in a place like this. Alfons agrees with the woman and he asks Kate if she wants to join too. Kate’s thoughts are hazy and she can’t think clearly, but here senses are extremely sensitive. Alfons’ fingertip creeps through the gap in her blouse causing her body to feel excited. She finally is able to answer him with a struggle.

Kate: Oh…..please…..don’t…..don’t………..

Woman with Long Black Hair: Hehe…a first reaction….Can I touch too?

Alfons: No, you can’t. She’s my new favorite.

Woman with Long Black Hair: Yeah?? That’s so rare……

Kate starts losing her strength in her arms and legs.

Alfons: As usual, you’re defenseless.

Alfons traces the curves of her body and reaches in between her legs, which causes Kate to react with heat flooding into her, and boasts that he knows every nook and cranny of her feel-good spots.

Alfons: We have an unusual relationship after all….right?

He looks her in the eyes as he asks that question and her thoughts slowly realized that it was probably something she inhaled that has increased her body’s sensitivity.

Kate: N-stop…..ah……uh…no…no….

Alfons: ….Ah, stop making you wet.

Alfons: Maybe you were expecting something when you chased me from the bar?

Kate: Hoping, something like……No, I wasn’t!

Alfons: Really? …..You’re not just being stubborn?

He tells her that he heard that this scent enhances certain emotions, but in her case she’s being her usual stubborn self.

Alfons: I’ll reveal your true intentions to you.

(What?)

Alfons quickly looks around and on one bed, there are cocktail glasses, an earring, corsets and garter belts and then he picks up a hand mirror, and spins Kate around to face another mirror, where he exposes her to see herself down below. His fingers wriggle behind her skirt, open a gap between her underwear and he begins to invade her wet spot. The sight was confusing and shameful and Kate wanted to run away.

Kate: No……

Alfons: But, it feels really good doesn’t it?

The truth was that he was right and even the sight of her own lasciviousness in the mirror becomes a sight to set her body on fire, which throws her into more confusion.

Alfons: Don’t waste your time trying to find my weakness, it’s something that isn’t there.

Alfons: Surrender to pleasure.

Kate: Oh, oh, oh………

The sound of her voice mixes and mingles with the sounds of her wetness and the other voices and laughter that fill the room. She could no longer stand and fell onto a canopied bed.

Alfons: You want to feel better don’t you?

She stares at his smile as he hovers over her. The touch of the sheets on her back, his breath coming closer, the feel of his hand creeping through the hem of her disheveled clothes.

(……In this bed, Alfons has been doing things like this for a long time now.)

(How many….time? With who….?)

(Do you want to do the same thing with me……?)

Kate: …..

The moment she thought that, she pushed Alfons away.

Alfons: Oops.

Kate: …..I’m leaving!!

The hand mirror falls to the floor as she hurries off the bed, and even though she hears the sound of the mirror breaking, she doesn’t worry about it.

Alfons: I see. Take care on your way home.

Alfons was still lying on the bed when Kate turned around to say one final thing to him when she paused.

Alfons: What’s wrong? Do you want to continue?

Kate: ….

Kate: Drinking and staying up late is bad for you. If you do it, do it in moderation!

Saying the first thing that came to her mind, she turned on her heel and left without looking back.

Alfons: ………..

The door slammed behind Kate.

Alfons: ……Pfft, Ah-ha-ha!

No one was paying attention to Alfons as he clenched his stomach in laughter, and behind the scene, the same rowdiness continued.

Alfons: Ha……you’re really an idiot.

Kate darted out into the alley as she wobbled onto her feet and bumped into things when someone reached out to support her - it was Roger. Kate is upset that the tail failed and that Alfons is just living his life of pleasure, that she was cheated again, and that no matter what she can’t understand him. Liam notices that her breathing is labored and asks if she’s okay. She replies that she’s okay, but she isn’t going to give up. At the end of the day, she is still curious about his unpleasant smile.

[Next] [Master List]

#alfons sylvatica #ikevil alfons #ikevil translations #ikemen villains #Ikémen villains translations #IkeVil JP spoilers #alfons sylvatica translation

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ghostst4r · 1 day

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GIRLFRIEND

reader x art donaldson x patrick zweig

I'm thinking of Patrick & Art being approached by the reader to try to escape some loser who is following them around. Do you pretend that you recognize one of them from somewhere? Or, does one of the boys jump in ready to become your boyfriend? Is it pretend? 🤷🏻‍♀️ - @imblushingrn

warnings: harresment? mentions of threesome

Patrick and Art both lay back on the pastel coloured arm chairs. They are currently sat at Tashis party, waiting to gain her attention as they share a pack of cigarettes - the crumbled box thrown on the concrete causing a few to spill out.

Though I was on the other side of the house, the hidden sister. I have always played tennis alongside Tashi, but because she became better quicker she had all of the parents and friends and relatives attention whereas I was forgotten about. Living in a house, not a home, with a name from strangers.

I wandered mindlessly through the kitchen, glancing around at all the people in the house, wondering who they were as they conversed. Once again the same shiver ran down my spine as a firm hand gripped onto my shoulder, the same distant cousin - who wasn’t really a cousin - who has been pestering me all night.

“May I pour you a drink?” His nasal voice strung out, it sounded like he needed a tissue. Though politely I shake my head.

I feel the hand gripping my shoulder wander down, caressing my waist and hips - though it wasn’t endearing. I struggle to move as he grips me so tight, thinking of any idea.

He moves closer to me and I feel his disgusting smelling breath on my neck, slowly biting at my skin. Not in the sexy, attractive way - more like a rat biting at scraps.

I manage to pull away and dash out of the kitchen arch way, and through the back doors of the house - somehow his harsh footsteps echo in my ears as he follows me outside. I look around desperately, spotting two boys who appear to be my age or a little older. I skip over and try to relax my breathing.

In through the nose, out through the mouth. In through the nose, out through the mouth.

I approach the two of them, using my hands to move the blondes feet out of the way so I can sit at the end of the arm chair. They both give me curious looks, as to why a stranger has disrupted their smoking session.

“A guy won’t leave me alone can you just get him off my back? Please.” I whisper, my eyes glancing up as I see the cousin stroll over casually.

He places both arms on his hips, tutting at me. “Well look where you ran off, come on darling I don’t have all day!” he snapped, the pet name didn’t even sound nice and definitely didn’t give me butterflies.

“Back off man she’s mine.”

“She’s my girlfriend pal, fuck off.”

Both the strangers let out at the same time, glancing at each other worriedly. I bit my lip and scrunch my eyes. Though the cousin doesn’t say a word for a good long passing seconds. “So- So you guys are like…” he stumbles, pointing between the three of us, and I still don’t know their names “A threesome?”

We all stay quiet for at least a minute, or thats what it felt like, all glancing at each other. Yet the dark haired boy spoke “Yeah, exactly what we are now fuck off.”

And that’s all the cousin needed to pry off of me, raising his arms in mock surrender and carrying on with his night. I exhale in relief, turning to the two boys who are both slightly flustered. “Thank you so much you don’t understand! Thank you…” They both smile and nod before releasing.

“Oh! I’m Art and he’s Patrick!” the blonde, Art, says with a smile, sticking his hand out.

I shake it with a laugh, looking at the both of them. “Sorry for getting you… both involved.” I blushed as they shook their heads and waved it off

The brunette smirked lightly, watching me. “What’s your name, I wanna find your facebook later?”

I blushed and relayed my name to him, watching their eyes widen at the last name ‘Duncan’, “Why do you want my facebook?”

“He’s asking for your number, and so am I.” Art replied, taking in a breath of his cigarette.

I laughed in disbelief, glancing at the both of them who continued to casually smoke, letting the light breeze take the smoke anywhere. Two boys… who both want my number?

#art donaldson fanfic #challengers #mike faist fanfic #patrick zweig fanfic #patrick zweig #patrick #zendya #zenday coleman #zendaya #tashi donaldson #tashi duncan #fanfiction #art donaldson #art #mike faist #josh o'connor

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luciopioid · 1 day

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No Looking Back

minnie x f!reader . 2,572K words

tags: older minnie/age gap. alcohol. use of “girl” and other feminine terms. vaginal fingering.

synopsis: minnie is a regular at your cafe job. after one particularly hard day, she runs into you and helps you out in more ways than one.

Minnie hands you a glass of wine before she sits down beside you on her couch– albeit probably too close, but the smell of her perfume and her radiating body heat next to you makes any doubt disappear immediately.

“So how long have you been there?” She asks, ruffling a hand through her hair. You shoot her a look. “The cafe, I mean.” She chuckles.

“Oh! About a year now. My last job wasn’t getting me by, but the pay here is a little better and the tips are good. I’m thinking about quitting though because last we–” You catch yourself.

“Sorry. I ramble when I’m nervous. But a year. I’ve been there a year.” You chuckle awkwardly, catching minnie’s gaze as she looks at you with a warm smile.

“Why are you nervous, baby?”

You feel your face go hot and it takes every fiber within you not to start giggling like an idiot.

You don’t really remember how you got here exactly, but you do remember crying profusely and running into one of your regulars at your job.

It was raining and you had just worked a shift from hell. Customers yelling in your face, whipped cream and green tea spilled over your pants and shoes– the whole nine yards. You practically run out of the cafe on your way to your car. You huddle to yourself, as if it will make the rain avoid you specifically given you forgot your umbrella. You sit down in your passenger seat momentarily, and for the first time in six hours, you breathe. Ready to go home and shower and probably cry, you start your car. Or try to at least. You turn the key again. And again. And again, but to no avail it doesn’t start. At all.

You feel tears stinging at your eyes, but you blink them away and decide to get out and pop the hood. You don’t know what you’re looking at. You just want to go home. Your hair is wet and your clothes are cold and damp.

At some point in between clocking out and having a breakdown in the rain, you ran into Minnie, a regular customer at your job that comes in every other day.

Shit.

You didn’t know what bothered you more: being in this vulnerable position for anyone to walk by and wonder if you were crazy or really down on your luck or having the woman you’ve had a crush on for literal months walking by and wonder if you were crazy or just really down on your luck. You prayed it was the ladder.

“Are you okay?” She asks after she gets out of her car, jogging towards you. “Do you need a jump?”

She’s in high waisted jeans and a blouse. Unlike yours, her hair and clothes dry. “Here,” Minnie says, passing you her umbrella as she goes to open your hood. It’s useless now, but a kind gesture nonetheless.

“I don’t know if it’ll work,” You whisper, “With the rain and all.”

“Are you locked out your car?” She asks, concerningly.

“No.” You say calmly.

“So why didn’t yo–” She pauses and laughs softly, understanding you’re in a particularly vulnerable state.

“Look,” Minnie pauses. “I live right there. Why don’t I take you to my place really quick so you can dry off and when the rain stops, I’ll come give you a jump, hmm?” She says with that same familiar smile that made you weak in the knees when you see it.

As charming as she is, you didn’t want to be pitied, even if you were quite literally having a breakdown outside of your job.

“I don’t know, It’s–”

“Come on!” She says pulling you to her car by your arm. Not letting you finish your potential objection.

“Thinking about what’s gonna happen to my car if it’s broken. Thinking about how I’m in a stranger’s huge fucking apartment as I wear her clothes. You know… the usual.” You joke and Minnie gives you that same warm smile as she chuckles. You finish the rest of your wine in one sip. Minnie gives you a concerning look before doing the same just for the hell of it.

“I feel like I only had a shitty shift because I didn’t see you today.” You say, entirely too late to take back.

Before you can try to awkwardly change the subject, “I can’t tell if you’re blaming me for your shitty day or if you missed me.” She says jokingly and you immediately feel a relief fall over you.

“What? Of course not!”

“Of course you didn’t miss me? Wow… Here I thought I was a favorite of yours.” Minnie says fake dramatically and for the first time all day, you feel a real genuine smile creep on your face.

“I’ve always wanted to ask, is Minnie short for something?” You inquire, your nerves slowly zipping away from the glass of wine.

Her eyes light, “No, actually.” She says matter of fact-ly. “It’s just a nickname. My real names Nicha.”

“Nicha,” you repeat to yourself, “That’s pretty. It’s fitting.”

You regret meeting her eyes because the look she’s giving you makes you want to dart your eyes in the opposite direction, but in fear of looking like a pussy in front of the most attractive woman you’ve ever seen, you hold it.

Minnie is looking at you, eyes low and smiling. “You’re so pretty, you know that? Not used to seeing you outside of your work.”

You feel your stomach tingle and your face heat up again. “Yeah?” You say, deciding to play this little game with her back.

“Yeah. You look even better in my clothes too.” She adds.

In the back of your mind, you knew this was crazy. Going to the home of a woman you barely know, letting her wash your clothes and putting you in her’s. Letting her offer you alchohol—at worse— drinking it.

“Was this your plan?” You ask, voice low and sultry. “Get some drinks in me. Try to jump my bones?”

Minnie scoots closer to you, “What? Of course not!” She says, mocking you from a few moments ago. “And don’t say it like that. Making me sound like a creep.” She jokes and shows you that smile you can’t seem to get enough of right now.

Minnie gently takes your hand and opens it. “D’you want me to stop, baby?”

Fuck.

“No.”

“Good.” She brings your hand to her mouth and presses a light kiss to your palm. You look at her with desperate eyes.

“You’ve had such a hard day,” Minnie coos, face inching towards you. “Can I make you feel better?” She whispers into your ear, as if there was anyone else around. You nod, saying yes to whatever that entails.

She kisses the sensitive skin where your ear meets your neck and you let out a soft gasp. You couldn’t believe this. You gently move her face in front of yours, holding her by her chin with your fingers. She bites her bottom lip mindlessly as she looks at yours. Minnie’s eyes flicker up to yours. “Can I kiss you?” She whispers, and you waste no time closing the gap between the two of you. Her lips press against yours firmly before she opens her mouth to take in your lower lip. She sucks at your lips slowly as you moan in between kisses. She tastes sweet like expensive wine and her lips are just as soft as you imagined.

Minnie’s hands find your hips and she grips them, tugging you closer. She pops her mouth off of yours and latches onto your neck. She gathers a part of skin between her teeth before biting down, you gasp unexpectedly before she soothes it with her velvet wet tongue and plump lips.

You’re dizzy. This is all too much. It’s too much, but you can’t help but want more.

She nips and sucks at various spots of your neck, ones that you are sure will leave marks, but you can’t find it in you to care. She comes off of your neck to meet your eyes, her nose touching yours. Minnie tugs at the bottom of the shirt of hers that you had on. She looks at you for permission and as soon as you give her a nod, she begins to bunch up the shirt at your collarbone, leaving your chest bare and exposed. Minnie places her hand on the small of your back before laying you down on her couch as she settles between your legs.

Mindlessly, your hands go to cover your breasts. That is until Minnie goes to lean down towards your ear. “Don’t hide from me. You’re so beautiful.” She says kissing at your neck again. “Wanna see you,” Her hands gently cover yours and move them away, “All of you.” Still holding your hands at your sides, she wraps her mouth around your nipple and you involuntarily whimper at the warm, slick contact. She twirls her tongue around it repeatedly, each time trying to earn another one of the beautiful sounds you make. She lets go of one of your hands, but you keep it there. In obedience. She uses her now free hand to pinch at your unoccupied bud, making you yelp and clench your fist. She switches to the newly pinched nipple and sucks as she kneads your opposite boob with her other hand, now leaving you with two free hands.

You use this as an opportunity to cup the back of her head with your hands as she sucks on your breasts repeatedly. Your hips buck into her involuntarily, wanting more of whatever was going on. You moan out into the open space again before asking, “More.”

It was all you could manage to say right now. Minnie pops off of your nipple and looks up from you at this position, “More what, pretty girl?” You groan at her and move your hips against her body, desperate for any sort of friction.

“I want you.” You say, low, for her ears only.

“Yeah?” She teases you as she creeps one hand up from your chest to your lips. She cups your face, her thumb grazing over your bottom lip. Without her even asking, you open your mouth, allowing her to slip her thumb in with ease. You wrapped your tongue around the lone digit, watching her eye your mouth in adoration.

She slips her thumb from your lips and slowly replaces them with her middle fingers and like before, you obey and suck. You allow her to push them back into your mouth, you coat her long digits in your saliva as you moan around them. “Look at you. Such a good girl.” Minnie muttered. “A good girl just for me.” She grins. Her praise was making your head spin.

Minnie pulls her fingers out of your mouth and lays against you,holding herself up on the forearm surrounding your head. She slips a hand into the front of the shorts she gave you. Your underwear was in the wash along with the rest of your clothes, you’ve never been more grateful, for the sole fact that her slick wet fingers immediately met your clit, making you gasp softly.

“Please.” You beg. Now feeling extremely desperate to feel her inside of you. She kisses your cheek and shushes you. “Shhh. Patience, love.” She whispers. Her fingers circle your clit once more before teasing at your entrance. “Fuck, you’re so wet for me.” She teases.

Her mouth finds yours as she kisses you, slow and languid. It’s at this point too that she decides to push her fingers into you, making you groan into her mouth at the feeling. Minnie starts off slow, her fingers pumping in and out of you at an excruciating pace for you. You whined at the sensation. “Please— Go faster.” You whimpered against her mouth.

“I’ve always wanted to have you like this. Always wanted to fuck you.” She says, almost as a confession. If you weren’t physically at a loss for words, you’d tell her the same. You’d tell her about how you always eyed her long fingers and strong hands as you took her order. About how good you thought her plump lips and nose would look under you as you rode her face. If only she knew.

She fucks her fingers into you more firmly now, at a new pace that makes you moan with every pump. A pace that makes you grip at her arm, your nails digging into her flesh. “F-fuck Minnie. Please.” She bites at your neck once more. The multiple stimulations making you mewl like a fucking kitten.

She comes up from the crook of your neck to admire your face. Your face flushed with a glowy sheen— she’d swear she’s never seen a more beautiful sight. You continue to babble nonsense and whine as she fucks into you, you feel a knot forming in your stomach as you’re being inched closer to release.

“Say my name.” She says softly, almost sounding desperate, but still demanding.

You moan and attempt to do as she says, “Mi—.”

“Nu uh,” She interrupts you, grinning, “My real name.”

As soon as she said that, she began to speed up, her fingers hitting a spot that you felt were sure to make you cum around them soon. Barely able to speak, “N-Nicha…” You whimpered. You feel her smile against your bare skin. Your hips begin to buck against her hand. She sucks on your neck, her face finding that same spot that earns the familiar noises from you. “Close, Nicha…close.” You mutter out between moans. You knew you weren’t going to be able to last long.

The movements of Minnie’s fingers in your pussy we’re becoming sloppier as you clenched around her. “There you go,” she coos, “Come for me, pretty girl.” And with one last praise, your walls tighten around her fingers and your hips grind against her, hard and desperate. You let out a string of curses and whimpers followed by her name as she kissed you all over. “Want you to cum all over my fingers.” She says, sending you over the edge with one last whine before entirely riding out your climax.

Your heavy pants fill the entire room. Minnie’s forehead touches yours while she hovers over you. You decide to break the gap again and meet her in a long, slick fluid kiss. You could feel her fingers still inside of you before she slowly pulls them out of you. Her face still centimeters away from yours, she puts her fingers into her mouth, allowing herself to taste you before turning her head to pull you into a deep kiss once more. You moan into the kiss, tasting yourself on her lips— you swear you’ve never been more turned on. You stay like that for a few mere moments before the beeping of her dryer snaps the two of you out of it.

“Do you feel better, baby?” She asks, coming off of you and sitting up. She fixes her hair and adjusts her shirt.

“Much better.” You say, offering her that same shit eating grin in return.

Minnie cups your face with her free hand, giving you a gentle kiss on the cheek before standing up from the couch.

“I’ll go get your clothes…”

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