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leclsrc · 8 months

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could i get a carlos imagine where you have commitment issues and he calms you down? as a girlie with commitment/trust issues i just wanna b repped in one of ur fics/drabbles :/// it's tuff out here brotha

bring you home — cs55

Moving in together gets difficult. Carlos is there to ease you along. title from this

genre: fluff

auds here... i hope you enjoy this!!! i too am a commitment-afflicted girl ..... it truly is tough lol. but i hope u find the right person who helps u put ur anxieties to rest <3 insp by a scene from satc i saw on tiktok

It started with a duck. But the duck started with the box. And the box started with a toothbrush joke. And the toothbrush joke started with your old lady neighbor moving out. So really, it started with Mrs. McDonnell and her massive moving van rolling down the street and leaving the flat next door empty. Somehow that old hag had managed to irritate you long after she left, albeit through means not her own.

In terms of time, it started a month ago. In terms of people (sans the old bitch), it started with Carlos, as so many of your stories do. “Mrs. McDonald finally moved out today,” he’d said, hip against your stove, watching bits of garlic turn from pale to brown. From the living room you hummed affirmation and then laughed: “McDonnell.”

“Donald, Donnell, Dinero,” he rolled his eyes. “Everyone’s moving in and out. Charles bought a new place in Monaco.”

“Well,” you shrugged, fixing the ridden-up hem of your tank top, “you could have an extra toothbrush in here, if that gets y’there.”

He laughed, pointing at you with the oil-hot rubber tip of the spatula. You two had been dating for over a year at that point, yet any suggestions of moving in together remained vague, cloudish ideas in both of your heads. For him it was impractical; for you it was a little scary.

But a toothbrush, which he always had at your flat and you at his, wasn’t moving in together. Neither was a drawer of clothes and knick-knacks. It was a symbol of your busy lives and the intermittent intersections far and few between.

Except they’d been becoming less intermittent and a lot more constant. He was almost always at your flat, the wide two-bedroom you’d decided was a good place to live with your income and the area. You had two parking spaces, a good rep with the board, and a coffee shop across the street—a place all your own.

A little plus was you had Carlos on some free days, like that day—that fateful day he turned back to the pan and said, with a smile: “I should move in.”

You froze. “You’re asking—you’re telling me or the garlic?” In fits of nerves, you could only blurt out bad jokes.

He laughed but it was a small exhale of breath. “I’m serious.” He turned to you, brown eyes big.

Your heart swelled with something between apprehension and absolute excitement, that finally you were going to take a step you felt like you’d been waiting to take forever. “You are?” You asked, so giddily you could hear your own smile.

The truth was, you had moved in with a boyfriend before, offered him a key and suggested the entire affair, bought fresh flowers and cooked eggs and made coffee and lived the bliss you only read about in romance novels. Months later you caught him fucking somebody else in your bedroom, and years later the memory fails to purge itself from your mind or your habits, plaguing every inner thought you have.

But this, you assure yourself, is Carlos.

“Dead seriou—uuooof!” Carlos barely got to the end of his sentence, with the way you barrelled into him, smiling into the blocky build of his chest and muttering a repetitive yes yes yes into the cotton of his tee. He held you there, pressing a kiss to your hair and promising he’d be in with his boxes as soon as time made way.

—

“Make way,” you yell into the tiny gap between your door and its frame.

“Hey, hi, hello,” your boyfriend sing-songs. “How are you?”

In the month you’d spent watching your boyfriend move into your flat, you’d also been subjected to your complete lack of personal space. Every time you entered, he’d be there talking his head off. Every time you came home at night, he’d be there. You felt suffocated. Scared, even if you couldn’t sleep at night without some part of you touching him. You’re simply a human with needs, and you needed space. You needed silence. Needed it. Absolutely needed it. You knew this because every time you opened your own door, it collided with a—

“Box.” You shove yourself through the gap and wedge the door closed, pointing an accusatory finger at the cardboard. “Another box by the door. Don’t make me burn those,” you mutter, fussing with your hair and toeing off your Blahniks. Across the foyer, Carlos is nailing something into the wall, noisy and incessant and you want to shrink into the floor.

“Sorry, sorry. Lo siento. I have so many stuff.”

“Yeah! You do. My flat’s only nay fucking big,” you respond, raising your pointer finger and thumb to exaggerate the size of your (in actuality, wide) living space. “Carlos, couldn’t you unpack some of these? Just some. It’s—you know, it’s piling up. And you know I hate mess.”

“I know, baby. I will as soon as I finish this up. I promise.”

You nod once, sighing and moving into the study to gather your laptop for work. You’re halfway into the room, eyes scanning your desk’s surface and finding your Mac laying flat atop it, unassuming next to a figurine of a wooden duck. You pause and blink. The wooden duck does not, its eyes painted wide and smooth and you definitely did not purchase this duck.

Somehow, this is the straw that breaks your back.

“What is this duck doing here?!” You yell, voice loud even from the study into the foyer. Carlos pulls off the goggles he’d been wearing to drill shit into your wall and smiles. A gift from me.

“A gif—I, I, I don’t like ducks.” You flail your arms around. “I just… hearing you talk or drill as soon as I come into my own home feels weird. For so long I’ve been alone and… and I’m supposed to hear silence and I—I’m scared that you’re going to figure out how scared I am and you’re going to leave me.”

He just stares, eyebrows knitted. You smother a hand over your face. You pause and breathe for a minute, then two.

“It’s just—I’ve only lived with someone three months, and that was ages ago, and before that it was my parents, so. I’m going to be really frank with you and I’m sorry if this sounds… but I’m gonna close the bedroom door and I don’t want you to talk to me for thirty minutes. I need space. And keep the duck first. I’m sorry. Is that selfish? Is that okay?” When he shakes his head and then nods, you deposit it into his arms and back up into your room.

His face, torn between concerned and endeared, softens into an understanding, patient smile. Okay, he mouths. I love you, you mouth back, and then you’re shutting it softly, leaning your forehead against the white wood and letting a long exhale leave your lips. You half-expected him to fight you back, to raise his voice, but it’s your own worst expectations weighing down on you all over again, born out of memories of your ex.

You stay like that for a while, and slowly with the quiet you realize—you find the duck cute.

You like the boxes because they remind you this is becoming a home. You like hearing him talk because it means you know he’s there. (The drilling will always be irritating, but he makes it better.) You don’t dislike anything he does, but you’re not totally lying either: you are scared. Scared of the commitment it’d take to make this a sure thing. The commitment you’d given before and the commitment that’d been betrayed.

But this is Carlos. This is Carlos, who’s understood every part of you, who’s given you time and patience even when you didn’t know how much you needed it. The Carlos who knows how you like your toast, who eats the yolk off your sunny-side eggs and gives you the white of his hard-boiled ones. The Carlos who said I love you first, surprising you into shock, and then took it back in embarrassment before you cut him off with a kiss. The Carlos who stays.

The air clears and you breathe easier. You open the door after five minutes. “You okay?”

He’s unpacking a box. He turns and smiles wryly, mimicking a zip motion across his lips. He shakes his head. No talking, remember?

You pout, smiling. “Sorry if I’m neurotic.”

You pad softly toward him and it’s easy, too easy for him to pick you up into his arms, wrap your legs around his waist, stay standing and hugging you. He’s quiet still, patient, warm. “I like hearing you talk. I like your boxes. I like that you’re mine and we’re here.” You inhale. “‘M just scared. And I don’t… want to be, but I am, and… it’s just me. I’m crazy.”

“Hey, Crazy. So am I. Take your time.” He hugs you tighter. “I’m not gonna leave you, even if you hated the duck.” I didn’t, you say quietly. It was cute. “I know it’s hard, baby. I know. You have to let me take care of you. You have me, okay? You have me.”

“And when you’re not here?” Fear slithers up and tries to tug at you but his arms are around you, secure and holding you there, so you don’t let it.

The thing with needs, really, is when they’re met—met in the best, most understanding way, especially…

He kisses your neck. “I’ll always be.”

…You find you no longer need them at all.

#f1 #carlos sainz #carlos sainz imagines #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz drabble #carlos sainz x reader #f1 x reader

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pursuitseternal · 4 months

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“Scald Me:” Let the Vampire Lord Astarion tend to your every comfort, 🔥 update to “The Rogue You Were”

Ascended Astarion x F!Reader | E | 3K of comfort, bath sex

Summary: you have those nightmares again, filled with death and fear and tentacles. You seek comfort alone, wanting to scald the fear from your body, but only one man’s attentions will give you what you seek… and more.

CW: soft!Ascended Vampire Lord, Tav ptsd dreams, one scared maid, comfort, dexterous hands washing your hair, bath sex, tub sex, one very wet tile floor…

Ao3 link | Astarion Fic Masterlist

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

Months since you’ve turned immortal. Months since your nights on the road, your days covered in blood and your mind racing with the thrill of danger and the constant mystery that was your life.

You have a palace, a lover, your immortal life protected from enemies. Your nights are spent in orgasms and luxury, your days still involving blood, but not of your enemies. Only his. Only Astarion’s blood, rife with his Ascended power that he keeps flowing into you as well.

But still, the nightmares come, the feeling of death breathing down your neck, the ghost of a squirming tadpole in your brain. The faces of those lives you took sometimes flit before… enemies and innocents, monsters and villains. You wake sweating in your sheets, hands still feeling the stick of blood.

You still hear his ghost sometimes in your head, your Dream Visitor, before you knew who he truly was… Even undead, powerful and loved, you are haunted.

The fear of becoming an Ilithid, the need to fight and flee, it still runs hot in your cold blood.

On nights in your bed, you cuddle into Astarion for comfort, for warmth. The one thing that grounds you and protects you from those lingering phantoms.

But today, you wake alone, your lover yet returning from business outside the City. The chilling sweat makes you feel well and truly dead. You need to get warm, to wash away the hovering darkness of your trauma.

You rise from bed, eager for your morning bath. Something to warm you from the chill of your memories and chase the fear from your shivering body. Crossing into your bathing room, the maid, some little new thing hired, already pours the last pitcher of steaming water into the enamel tub. She shakes as you enter, her eyes cast away. But you thank her, regardless of her deference…

Until you dip your hand into the water. The waves of your angst, your irritation, they reach their own boiling point.

“This water is cold,” you snap. Your head lifts with ferocity to stare down the girl. She is young, shivering. But so were you once. “Unacceptable,” you hiss. “Would you have made it so for the Master?”

“N-n-no, my lady,” she fumbles quietly, keeping her head lowered. You can’t even see her face.

“Am I not also powerful? A hero of the City?” you feel the swell of your wrath pouring out, misguided, misdirected, but it feels so good to let it out regardless. “I want this water hot. Scalding. Enough to boil the flesh from your skull if you fail me again.”

“Tch, tch,” a warm, velvety voice pours over from the doorway behind you. “My consort, you don’t need to threaten to prove your power, darling.”

You spin, Astarion locking eyes with yours. He leans against the frame, handsome as ever, his hair just a little more unruly than normal, you perceive. Instantly he assesses your state, your inner turmoil, your hurt, your rage. And he meets it with a distant look of concern. “Run along, girl, and fetch your mistress water hot enough to scald her.” He jerks his head, the servant instantly rushing out of the room. If she is crying, she holds back her tears until she is clear of their sight.

Frozen, dread rushing in your veins, you can only grip the edge of the tub and let your body shake. The tremors don’t even cease once you feel his warm hands on your shoulders, rubbing them gently to bid the tension away. “You really should save your fangs and threats for our enemies, you don’t need the practice on little girls who will only cry themselves senseless at your power, my darling.”

You say nothing, swallowing as you stare at your reflection in the water. The hardness and pain in the new crimson of your eyes stares back. A transferred gift of Astarion’s power, it seems—your lasting reflection.

His touch leaves one shoulder, dipping his fingers in the bath, little ripples running away from the intrusion. “My dearest, why, this water is hot enough to turn you to a broth. Why don’t you get in?”

You hear the comfort in his tone, his gentle attempts to soothe you where you feel raw and frightened. But you can only hiss in reply, “Why don’t you get in then?”

“If you insist,” he croons, and you hear the slip of his clothes from his perfect, lustrous skin. “A long day of threats and placating, of flying back to your side the moment I could sense your fear in your sleep… I’ll need some extra rejuvenation to stay looking this good for you, my treasure.”

Your breath hitches, body frozen at the weight of his words, hidden behind his bravado. “You… you could sense it…”

He says nothing at first, waiting half-naked beside you, pale chest just perfect as the steam swirls around you both. Eyes searching yours, he takes his damp hand from the tub to smooth your hair off one shoulder. A simple gesture done hundreds of times already, a precursor mostly to feeding. Or fucking. But this time, it meant neither.

These were tender, little petal-soft strokes on your skin. Meant to soothe. He slips your dressing gown from your shoulders, careful not to touch your skin too much. “I can sense your pain as your maker, do not forget, be that a prick of your finger or the torment of your dreams.” His voice is soft, flowing over your shoulder, wrapping you in that purr, that velvet caress he uses to soothe you back to him.

For those times you are trapped again in fear and tentacles and gore. The times he assures you that you have not only his blood, his power, his protection, but his heart as well.

Mercifully gentle, his hand steadies around yours, moving it to caress the surface of the water. It sucks your fingers in, flawless surface breaking to take in your touch. You feel it this time, the warmth of the water, the heat of his hand pressed into the back of yours. You shiver. But his touch grips firmly around your hand, encouraging you to step inside the waters fully.

Steam sweeps around you, mist brushing your face, laden with sweet oils of orange flower and citrus. Sharp and clean and luxurious. One leg sinks into the bath, then the other. But nothing is as hot as the way his touch scalds you, softly guiding you down into the warm embracing waters.

You sink to your neck, gasping after a moment. After you realize his touch has left your flesh.

“Astarion,” you call, that old dread of waking alone with only your pain as friend grips fast on your heart once more. Spinning, the water slashes roughly over the enamel edge.

“Tch,” he sucks his teeth as he withdraws, the water soaking his pale skin, dripping down his legs, still half-clothed. “If money were a concern, I’d chide you for ruining these silks, my love.” His smirk warms you, your eyes now filled only with the sight of him.

His lustrous skin covered in rivulets of scented water, his muscles flexing as he frees himself of the rest of his drenched and ruined trousers. Even that sight of his softened cock makes you flush warmer as you glance it between his legs. Your chest eases as his eyes lock solely into yours. That now matching shade of crimson, that matching fang-toothed smile… you give him no room, forcing him to climb into the waters by sliding his ruinous body right down yours.

Not that he cares, not from that steep-angled tilt of his head or from the heavy, half-lidded gaze he rakes over your chest.

The slosh of water smacks the tile floor as he pulls you close, one hand sweeping a palm full of water to wash the tear streaks from your cheek. “You will have to thank me, to congratulate me, I have never flown so quickly from Waterdeep in my life, undead or not, when I felt your dreams,” he whispers.

“Flown?” you try to tease, but even that single word sounds forced and hollow in your tight and ravaged throat. “Mist… bat…?”

“Mist is far faster you know, my treasure,” he keeps his voice soft and rolling deep in his chest as he pours another handful of water to wash your neck. “And I was in such a state to hurry to your side.” His hand presses your cheek now, turning your face into his. “More memories of our… journey?”

He was careful in his words, as you are with him. You never mention his former tormentor and master, he never mentions the Emperor or Ilithids or the Absolute. Not unless you first bring them up.

Your breath shakes, but you nod. “It was…” you stop. The images that flashed in your dreams returning just as violently as before.

The warmth of his thumb strokes your lips, softly willing them to continue. “I’m all pointy ears, my treasure…”

That makes you grin reluctantly. Words you once heard so often, imbued now with his purring, powerful tones. The words of the Spawn in the voice of the Ascendant.

And that pet name for you that took to your heart instantly. His treasure. His most precious possession, for the man that has everything and that can give you anything. The thing dearest to him in the world.

And right now, he is yours. You didn’t even need to ask.

A loud swallow passes over your dry throat. “I dreamt of it all again, the Nautiloid, the Netherbrain…” you close your eyes, shutting them tight as if you could block out the visions in your mind. “Friends reduced to ash, to tentacles, lost forever…”

His palm presses against the side of your head to draw you near until your forehead nestles in the crook of his neck, cradled on the plane of his shoulder. “You’re not alone in this, remember, none of us were, neither of us are now,” he whispers against the top of your head.

He falls silent, little cupping handfuls of water to dribble over your cheek, through your hair, and down your back. Its warmth is far from scalding, but it slowly begins to soothe. “When those same demons come to plague me, my darling, I like to remember that first sunset after the Brain fell. The way my head felt suddenly lighter once it was free, the way the sun still kissed my face, scalding my skin with almost the same heat that I felt for you, my need for you, my treasure.”

“Hmmm,” you pause, letting your mind drift over the softer moments you had shared. “Remember how rakish you were in the Grove, the night we defeated the Goblin Camp…”

“It wasn’t all smoke and mirrors, empty bluster you know,” his fingers lift from the bath, pinching your face softly. “My little treat. Your cheeks were so rosy and flushed. There was no better place to burn off your bloodlust than my bed, darling…” he purrs into your ear, that sensual curl in his voice, that honeyed seduction that still catches you off guard. You hope in all the ages you will share with him, it never ceases to jolt you right in your belly with lust.

“You still shiver so, darling.”

You do in fact shake, even as his arm holds you against his skin, even as the water does begin to seep into your bones. “Then warn me. Nothing makes me feel scalding like you can, my love,” you whisper, turning to meet his gaze. You are met with such intensity, such vivid concern, you don’t need a spell cast to know you worry him more than any other being in this realm or the next when you get like this.

“What do you have in mind, my consort?” he begs the question, even as his hand moves through the water, fingers pressing at your hip to guide you closer. To move you onto him.

You press a hand on his chest, bracing against his mighty strength when he wants you on his cock—already erect beneath the waters. You can tell. “Won’t you finish washing me first? Before you make me very, very dirty?” you simper, eyes wide and lashes batting. That lust makes your innards thaw, the stiffness of fear draining from your muscles as he feigns a look of disinterest as he considers it. “I’m sure there are other ways for me to feel scalding, blistering hot than just slipping your cocking between my legs….”

You swirl the water around that length, watching his smirk twist all the more at the motion. “Only because I do so adore you will I allow it. Even still, you will need to come closer,” his voice rings with that powerful, silken chime. His hands grip hard into your ass, using that weightlessness of the water to swish you onto his lap. The warmth of his skin caresses beneath your thighs, your ass. That comfort of his body grounds you like nothing else in these realms. And you sigh, most of your fear and tension melting away at last.

You close your eyes, those lithe and dexterous hands begin to pour water over your hair. More of that scented oils fills your nose as fingers so skilled at picking locks and stroking your clit scrub into your scalp. “Mmm, delicious,” you begin to smile.

And he chuckles slowly at the echo of his own flirtation flung back in his face. “Savor it, pet. I’m sure there are ways to repay my kindness for kindness shortly.”

“You don’t mean kindness…do you,” you tilt your head forward again, meeting his eyes, and instantly you aren’t wet between your thighs from just the bath water any longer.

“No, little love,” his hands pull you flush, belly to belly, hard enough to make his cock prod up against you. “I do not.” His hands grip hard into your sudsy hair, just a bit of divine pain tingling as he tugs it, angling you head back, bearing your neck as his eyes scan that pale column he hungers for still. “Now, be a good girl, let’s get you cleaned, and then you’ll know just how hot you make me.” His hands pour water down your head over and over again, and your eyes flicker shut. The reverence in his touch grows edged with desire, you can feel his haste. His cock twitches every time you breathe in deeply, deep enough to make your breasts drag their straining nipples against his chest.

You shake your head from the longer trickles, a devious grin on your lips as you scoop a palm of water. “What about your turn… wash that sweat off your curls as you hurried to my rescue?”

“You wouldn’t dare get these flawless locks wet, would you?” he feigns a snarl. “I will not look like a drowned cat when I finally warm you from the inside out, my pet.” Quicker than breath, he grabs your hand midair and sinks it into the blissful warm waters again. He gives you that wicked, mischievous giggle to punctuate the quiet before he wraps both sets of fingers around his cock.

Hotter than the waters. Hard and awaiting and twitching the moment you catch its pulse. You feel him slide deeper into the waters, lifting you up just enough to instantly slot himself between your thighs. You gasp, the fullness so familiar and arousing, so comforting to be fit perfectly again.

Water begins to splash over the porcelain edge behind him as you join at last. Slowly, you pace yourself, letting the waters warm your skin as you ride him. His eyes bore into you, flickering down every now and then to watch your breasts dipping in and out of the bath as you keep your rhythm.

Astarion keeps his hands clawed into your hips, grounding you among the swirls and splashes that lap around you. Those crimson eyes still scan all about you, observing every detail, every bat of your eyes and tremor of your lips. Making fully certain he chases away those lingering ghosts from you…

Just as you do for him.

His lips curl as you increase your pace, your fingers now clutched hard around the ivory lip of the tub. You ride him with abandon, water cresting in waves to drench the floor. But you’re sure your cunt is far more drenched. The slick inside you hot from the sweet pressure he gives you, the little thrusts he makes when you sink back down to crush his thighs.

Breath matches breath, his mouth so close, so open, you lose all sense of what air is yours or his. The little groans you make grow more ragged, his voice in your ear as you hang your head. Lost to the growing swell of pleasure in your belly. “My love,” he purrs. “My consort and queen… my most precious treasure…”

The muscles of his thighs clench beneath you, hips now slamming up into with haste and recklessness. Out of control, he arches back, head resting against your gripping hands on the tub.

But his words, his undoing inside you, it’s all enough to throw you into that heat he conjures under your skin.

Heat so burning, the gush of your arousal as you come does scald you. You can barely whimper his name, feeling his own shudders of climax take him. You feel your juices trickle between your thighs, hot to the touch before the waters wash it away.

Those damp, silver curls rest on your shoulder, their flawless swoops wet and heavy from steam as he nuzzles against your neck. “Feeling better?” he sighs softly. “Scalding enough for you?”

You run your dripping hand into that tantalizing hair, raising him off your shoulder. That look of smug satisfaction, that glow of his own climax, flushing his pale skin and sharpening his defined cheeks and jaw, it steals your breath. “Always with you, my love,” you reply. “Always scalding.”

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camslut7 · 3 months

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Ain’t no way

Pov: Tenjiku’s top members go to the Haitani brothers’ house for a meeting, but they meet the third Haitani

Including: Izana, Kakucho, Ran, Rindou, Shion, Mochi, Hanma

Tw: curse words?, a little suggestive at one point

Reader is a female.

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE AND THIS IS MY FIRST EVER FIC

____________________________________________

I got woken up by the slamming of the front door. Assuming it was my brothers coming home, I tried going back to sleep, but failed to do so because a couple minutes later i heard it again. And then again. I mean really, who the fuck was slamming the front door that many times.

I looked at the clock on the nightstand, it was 1:15am. Groaning i fell back on my pillow, trying to return to my sleep, but i heard talking.

Getting up from the bed, i looked in the mirror. I was only wearing a black crop top and my underwear, so i decided to put on some leopard print pyjama shorts (idc if y’all like leopard print it’s 2006 and I absolutely love it).

I went out of my room and to the bathroom to pee. I mean hey, i got woken up anyway so why not pee, go drink some water and scold my brothers for waking me up.

While i was doing my business in the bathroom, someone tried entering. And i mean full on pulling the door open with all their strength.

“Why the hell are you pulling on the door so hard? Can’t you see it’s locked?” I yelled at the door, mentally thanking myself for locking it.

I heard someone groaning in annoyance on the outside, walking angrily back downstairs. And then i heard multiple people talking. Like more than two.

What is going on? Have my brothers brought someone to our house without telling me before hand?

Already kinda mad at them, I quickly washed my hands, checked how I looked and went downstairs to see what the hell was going on.

Walking down the stairs I yelled “Ran, Rindou, did you seriously bring someone to our house without telling me?!”

And at that moment, I looked in the living room. There were 7 guys, including my brothers, sitting in the living room, now looking at me like I was some god sent creature. I was dead ass looking at them like 🤨.

I few seconds of silence passed “Okay, what the fuck is happening right now? Why are you random boys in my house?”

“Hey, who are you calling a boy? Can’t you see im older than you.”

I looked at the guy with piercings and big ass tattoo on the side of his head.

“So what? Can’t you see I don’t care?” I said back at him.

“Who do you think you’re talking to, little lady?” Said a very big guy with some funny eyebrows. Seriously, someone needs to fix them.

“And you are?”

“That’s enough.” I turned to the side to look at the tanned boy with platinum blonde hair. “Ran, Rindou, who is this?”

“That’s our little sister.” Answered Ran.

Sighing, Rindou asked “Y/n, what do you want? Why are you so angry?”

“Why am I angry? You’re the ones who woke me up in the middle of the night. I wanna know why there are people in the house, at 1am, making noise and waking me up.”

“Woah, calm down, baby. You don’t wanna mess with us.” Replied a very tall guy, with blond on the front of his hair… Damn was he fine, but damn was he tall af.

“Yeah, what are you gonna do? Yell at us for waking up your highness?” Said the guy with the tattoo on his head.

“Um, guys, I don’t-“ Rindou tried butting in, but i cut him off.

“Oh yeah? Wanna fight? You would win, right? Since you’re being so cocky. Although, I think you’re a pussy.”

“Okay, that’s it, little bitch” And at that moment, the guy with the tattoo tried swinging at me, but i quickly dodged it and sent a right hook to his jaw, knocking him out.

I cracked my knuckles, making eye contact with every single one of them, stopping by a boy with a scar on his face and mismatched eyes. Oh, he cute, I thought, and hot. Looking at him up and down, I noticed the boy blushing.

Smirking at him, I said “Okay, who’s next?”

They were all looking at me as if I just did a miracle. Except Ran and Rin, they’ve always known that I could do that.

“What? Scared?” I smiled, focusing on the tall guy with the blond strand on his hair.

He scoffed “As if.” “Well, it sure looks like it.”

“Okay, Y/n, that’s enough.” Ran said, standing up from his spot on the couch and coming towards me.

“You should go now. And put something with more…” he stopped, searching for the right words, looking me up and down “more coverage, you know.”

And as he said that, all the guys in the room looked me up and down, now noticing how short my shorts are.

I scoffed “Oh my god, as if I care. You’ve annoyed me all, I’m going to sleep.”

“Good night, sis” Called out Rindou.

“Nighty, Y/n” Said Ran.

“Sleep well, princess.” Said the tall guy. I should really learn his name.

I went up the stairs and into my room. Closing the door, I sighed. What the fuck was all that?? I layed in my bed, going back to sleep, hoping that they won’t be here in the morning.

____________________________________________

#ran haitani #rindou haitani #haitani brothers #hanma shuji #izana kurokawa #kakucho #kakucho hitto #shion madarame #haitani ran #haitani rindou #shuji hanma #tenjiku #tokyo revengers

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flowerandblood · 11 months

Text

Sweet kiss, sweet blood (1)

[ dark vampire! • Aemond x female ]

[ warnings: sexual tension, profanation, mention of the murders ]

[description: A centuries-old vampire lives in Victorian England, bored and discouraged. His old friend sends him a letter, inviting him to his new country house. Aemond arrives there to rest. Next to the property, there is a small chapel, visited by the faithful. It turns out that at night, a young lady prays in it. Slow burn, sexual tension, profanation, murder, blood drinking.]

I owe the idea for this wonderful series to: @qyburnsghost

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

He had no idea when he began to feel that life was boring him. As he thought about it, he realized that it had been happening slowly, over the years. Year after year, he began to lose interest in the things that used to occupy him.

People came and went like flowers that sprout in the spring and wither in the fall. The indifference he felt made him feel comfortable. He felt like a black, cold hole, like a damp cellar under a house where little children are afraid to go down.

It didn't bother him. He fed on human blood, but tried not to kill his victims, unless he had to. He figured that their lives were short enough already.

At first he was out of control and couldn't remember what he was doing. He would wake up lying around dead bodies, with horror written on their faces, bitten and bloodstained. It was a terrible sight, and he usually vomited when he saw it. Then he got used to it.

He remembered clearly the night when he had been turned into a vampire. His nephew injured him during a saber duel, depriving him of one eye. The woman who treated him told him that she could make him take revenge on him.

That he will be invincible.

Drowning in pain and grief, he agreed before he thought what he was doing. The pain he felt when she bited him was indescribable. Then she bited her own wrist and kissed him, forcing him to drink her own blood.

It was over.

Alys was his lover and companion for many years afterwards. She didn't mind his antics. In killing she was even more brutal than him. He had a feeling that she was enjoying it.

She once told him that her first victim was her childhood rapist and abuser, a family friend.

She confessed to him that a person changes after something like that, and even centuries can't make you forget it.

Eventually, however, their paths parted. Her elaborate feasts intertwined with orgies and drinking the blood of virgins began to tire him. He could not bear to look at it anymore. From her perspective human lives didn't matter. She trampled them like snails that happened to get in her way, sucking the life out of them.

He, which he found absurd, did not lose the faith in God that his mother had instilled in him. When Alys wasn't looking he would take out the little Bible that his mother had given him as a gift and pray. To his amusement, the Bible did not burn in his hands, the angels did not cast him down to the abyss, although sometimes he begged for it.

He didn't go outside on sunny days, unless he had to. After his transformation his skin was as thin as parchment, and although it regenerated on its own, exposure to sunlight caused him burning pain and discomfort.

When he was forced to leave his residence for some important business he wore his top hat, black, leather gloves and a long coat, even if it was summer.

He was never hot.

His skin always felt chilled or frozen.

After he parted ways with Alys he began traveling the country alone, exploring its countryside, staying in abandoned houses, feeding on animal blood when necessary. He needed no food or drink, not even sleep, though he liked to take naps under the stars, as he had when he was human.

One day, when he returned to his tenement house which he rented with the money of a man he had killed long ago − although not willingly, because the old man had a heart attack when he bited him − he found a letter lying on his floor.

He picked it up and looked at the seal. He already knew who the sender was. He opened the envelope, unfolded a piece of paper, and began to read.

"My dearest friend,

I heard you came back to your hometown. I am glad and I hope you are in good health. I've taken up a splendid new mansion in a wonderful country estate that I'm sure you'll love. The mansion is massive, and I feel lonely without company, which I don't count as random people who live nearby. I invite you to my place, so that we can reminisce about the old times and relax together. On the other side of the card I am sending you the exact address.

Greetings, Ser Criston"

Aemond sighed, as he put the letter back in the envelope, setting his top hat on the shelf above him, slowly unbuttoning his coat. The last few weeks and months had blurred into one, he had lost complete control of the flow of time.

He didn't make new friends, especially with people, because it didn't make sense. At first he tried, even had affairs with human women, but before he knew it they were getting old and starting families, and he was moving on. In his eyes, human life flew at several times faster.

Criston had been a vampire for less than he was, turned by someone against his will. He was the servant of one of the world's oldest vampire beasts.

His master was killed and he regained his freedom.

Because of what he had been through and the terror he had known, unlike other beings of their kind, he did not kill as willingly and often, trying to appreciate the value of someone's life.

They established a close, almost brotherly relationship, but their paths diverged several years ago.

He thought a change of scenery would do him good.

He ordered a carriage for the next morning to leave before sunrise. He had been dozing all day, the curtains of the carriage he kept closed to keep out the light.

He arrived late at night. He gave the coachman a few gold coins and set off through the dark, unsettling park. The moon was high above and a thick, summer fog was spreading around him.

He passed what he thought was an old chapel and stopped for a moment. He thought he saw faint candlelight there, but he wasn't sure. He decided it didn't matter and continued on his way to the noble manor on the other side of the park.

Criston greeted him at the entrance with open arms. Aemond's face, as always, was stony and expressionless, but deep down he was glad to see him.

They passed into the living room, rich in old paintings and furniture, with a large bearskin spread on the creaky wooden floor. Indeed, the interiors made a great impression. Criston poured them wine which they drank only for pleasure.

“It may look like a shack from the outside, but it's an amazing place on the inside. I bought this property for cash from an investor nearby. Nobody wanted to renovate such a place even for such money.” He grunted, as he was shown around the rooms that seemed endless.

"And the chapel?" He asked suddenly, surprising his companion who raised his eyebrows, as if he didn't quite understand the question. Then he began to nod, as if he had remembered something and agreed with him.

“Yes, the family that lived here had a chapel that is just behind the park. As far as I know, the locals use it sometimes to come to pray so as not to have to walk five kilometers to the nearest church.” He grunted as he moved on, showing him the room he was supposed to sleep in.

The bedroom was large, with a big, ornate oak bed with an elegant, four-poster spread out in front of them, a secretary by the window, a huge, wooden neoclassical wardrobe on the right, faded wallpaper with floral motifs on the walls.

"Someone was there right now." He said indifferently, walking over to the window.

The view was perfect over the park. Beyond it he saw the small chapel building. He studied the chapel intently, but no longer saw any light coming from her windows. He thought that maybe he was just imagining it.

"Truly? Well, I don't mind. I won't set my foot there." Criston grunted, inviting him back downstairs.

They spent the night talking about the years that they had spent in seclusion, about their experiences and thoughts. Aemond thought it was a good thing that he had come to see him. He felt a little less dead, as if he had awakened from a lethargy.

When day came, he drew the curtains and lay in bed, reading a book, not wanting to go anywhere. He decided that perhaps after dark he would go for a walk around the places that Criston had told him about. The countryside was said to be calming and thought-provoking, or so he said.

He went right after sunset to the park, crossing the shore of the lake nearby. He saw a pair of swans swimming across it, and for some reason he smiled to himself. He thought that no matter what atrocities he did, no one could change the course of nature. He envied these animals the blissful ignorance they lived in.

He walked several kilometers on foot, making a great circle. By the time he made his way back through the same park to the mansion. It was completely dark and the sky was brightening again with the moon.

He glanced involuntarily at the chapel he was passing and stopped. Again, there was barely visible, warm light from her windows. He noticed that her front door was ajar.

He thought he wanted to pray.

He walked in that direction, stepping inside noiselessly. He surveyed the small room with several rows of benches and an altar and froze. In the front row, in one of the pews sat a small, delicate figure. Next to her stood a single candle which she must have brought with her. She was kneeling, bent over, not even noticing him.

Her small, slender fingers were intertwined, placed in front of her, a prayer book above them. Her eyes were closed, apparently absorbed in fervent prayer. With her black hair down, white nightgown and ruby scarf draped over her shoulders, with a warm halo of light around her head, she looked like a saint. He stared at the sight, unable to move.

Suddenly she shivered, as if she felt a sudden chill, and looked around involuntarily. When she saw him her eyes widened in horror.

She rose quickly, covering herself with a shawl, the sound stuck in her throat. Standing up, she nearly knocked over the candle that was standing next to her. Her movement brought her scent to his nostrils. He had to clench his mouth and fists to keep from throwing himself at her.

He heard her swallow hard, recovering from her initial shock, calming down slightly, though still looking at him fearfully. She didn't know what to do. He suspected that she was afraid he would rape her.

He looked down, trying to control himself. He walked over to the last bench in the row next to hers, sitting down there. He pulled his Bible out of the inside pocket of his coat, opened it in front of him and began to read.

The girl, seeing this, slowly began to relax. She pursed her lips, looking around anxiously, apparently debating whether to leave or stay. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her body tremble, saw the silhouette of her soft thighs through the material of her nightgown.

Her face and eyes were light and gentle, dark lashes and eyebrows framing her face pleasantly. Her full, pink lips turned red with horror, he could feel her blood rushing to her rosy cheeks. He tried not to think about the beating of her heart, which was pounding like a bell in his ears, and about her restless racing pulse.

Surprised, he found himself experiencing dissonance and two extreme feelings at once. Thirst was one thing, but the unbearable tightness in his pants and the heat in his lower abdomen were something he hasn't felt in years.

As she sat back in her seat, her back to him, he squeezed his eye shut, trying to control himself. He tried to divert his attention from her neck and focus on the Gospel he held in front of him.

They sat in complete silence, the only sound in the background was the quiet turning of their pages once in a while. After a few minutes he shuddered when he heard her stand up.

She hesitated for a moment as she was about to grab her prayer book. A mighty shudder went through him when he heard her soft, gentle voice.

"Would you like me to leave you a candle to read, sir?" She asked uncertainly.

Only now did he realize that ordinary people did not read in the dark. He decided that in order not to arouse suspicion he had to agree.

"Yes, if it's not a problem for you, miss." He said low and cold, looking at her intensely. He couldn't take his eye off her.

After a moment she looked at him, and he felt a bead of sweat trickling down his neck. His fangs sharpened as needles, his manhood pulsed hard in his pants. He gripped his Bible so tightly that he felt like he was about to crumple it.

He had never been so desperate.

The girl approached him hesitantly, lowering her eyes humbly, tightening the strong red material around her body, holding a prayer book to her chest.

It wasn't until she came closer that he noticed a tiny cross hung around her neck. He thought he couldn't protect her from anything.

She placed her candle in front of him, and he watched the graceful movement of her hand, her delicate, soft fingers. He swallowed hard as she pulled away, considering it a personal feat that she was still alive.

"Good night." She whispered, and he said nothing, staring straight ahead with a stony face.

She missed him, her scent more intense this time, filling his lungs again. He covered his face with his hand as he waited for her to leave. Hearing her go away, he exhaled loudly, squeezing his eye shut.

He tried to fool himself into thinking that he would never come here again, leaving her alone, letting her live in peace. He knew deep down that he wouldn't be able to rest until he had tried her in every possible way.

Until he suck into her lips, bit into her neck, drank the juices between her thighs. Distraught, he thought that this girl would be his ruin.

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @avgdusterfan @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @random-ocity @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @snh96 @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes

If you want to be tagged, leave a comment below. ♥

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male-body-swap-lover · 7 months

Text

Becoming the Old Man Next Door

Carter Austin was annoyed that he had to be home for his parents 30th wedding anniversary. The model was only in town for one night, and even that was too much. He hated Fairview and missed the fast life of New York. The 28-year-old was one of the hottest models on the scene and couldn’t believe he was wasting his weekend in his childhood bedroom.

Hon, we are so excited that you are home. We’ve missed you.

You know how busy I’ve been mom. I’m one of the hottest models. I’m constantly booked.

I know. We told Mr. Jarvis that you were coming home and he was so excited to see you.

Mom, I’m 28. I don’t want to go see our old neighbor.

Oh, just do it Carter. It’ll make him happy. He’s lonely. His wife has been dead for 20 years and he has no children. Just do it.

Fine.

I went next door and rang the doorbell. Mr. Jarvis answered the door. I forgot how fat he was.

Austin my boy. So good to see you. Come in come in. Sit down. I’ll get you a drink.

As I sat in his living room, I looked around at his depressing life. The room seemed straight out of the 1970’s, and it reeked of tobacco. 15 minutes. That’s all I need.

Here’s a coke. So, tell me about New York.

It’s fun. I travel the world. I’m one of the top models out there.

I know. I’ve followed you. You are quite the good-looking young men. I bet ladies throw themselves at you.

I get my fair number of women. And men. I don’t discriminate.

I wish I had your life. My life was always boring. And it’s been worse ever since Marian died. I live a lonely life.

Well not everyone can have my life. This coke tastes weird.

That’s because it’s not coke at all. It’s a special potion. You see Carter, I’m tired of being an old man who never did anything with his life. I want a life in the fast lane. So, I am going to steal yours.

What. That’s not possible

I stand up and try to move, but I can’t. It’s like I am frozen in place.

Carter, look in the mirror. Can’t you see the changes have already begun.

As I stared into the mirror, I could see the wrinkles start appearing on my face. Suddenly I started breathing heavier as I felt myself get older. I ran my hands through my hair and it came out in chunks in my hand. I tried to run, to get out, but couldn’t move. My skin was aging. I could feel my youth leaving my body. Passing 30. All of my hair fell out. Passing 40. Stubble appeared on my face. Then it stopped. I looked in the mirror. Damn. I’m fucking old, but I’m fucking hot.

Haha old man. I’m still fucking hot. Look at me. Your plan failed.

You aren’t very smart are ya Carter. That was just step one.

Step one! I turned to him and saw that somehow his hair had grown back in and he looked middle aged. It’s like my hair and age went to him!

Yes, there are three steps. Let’s start step number two.

With that he clapped his hands and suddenly I felt bloated. My stomach was starting to rumble. I looked in the mirror and my face was bubbling. Suddenly it felt like I was blowing up like a balloon. 10, 20, 50, 100, 150, 200 pounds of fat just suddenly appeared on my body. For some reason as I grew, my clothes grew with me.

I was a whale. No one would ever recognize me. It was absolutely disgusting. I used to make fun of people who looked like this. Now I was one of them. I turned and looked at my captor. He looked good. He was so skinny. It’s like all of his weight transferred to my body! He was hot! I was so jealous. Wait he said this was step two, what was step three going to be?!

Damn, I never even looked this good when I used to be in my 40’s. This is amazing. I bet you are wondering about step three. Well, I suppose it’s time to start the final step. Get ready to say goodbye to any remaining part of your old life.

A wave suddenly washed over me. I could feel the life force draining from my body. My facial hair was turning white. My back pain was killing me. I could feel pain everywhere in my body. Arthritis. But I’m only 28. What is happening. I didn’t even think this was possible.

I’m Marvin Jarvis. Wait what! No I’m not Marvin… I’m um….i’m um. What is going on. It’s like I am losing my memories.

What are you doing to me. Why can’t I remember my name. Why do I think I’m you.

Because, Marvin, that’s part of step three. I become you and you become me. We might not look exactly the same, but the world will change to suit us. Why don’t you look at your license.

I could barely reach my wallet. I pulled out my driver’s license. It still said Carter Austin, and then it changed. Marvin Jarvis. 81 years old. 375 pounds. I looked at the photo and then at my reflection in the mirror. There was the same old man. Me!

You’ll never get away with this.

I already have. Your old memories will continue to slip away until you become Marvin Jarvis. Meanwhile, I’ll get your memories and live out my life again. A world-famous model. Carter Austin. My life is set.

Suddenly my mom entered the house.

Hello Marvin. I just came to get Carter. Dinner is ready.

I wanted to scream out. To tell my mom what happened. All that came out was “Of course Karen. It was lovely seeing Carter again. What a fine man he has become.”

Mom, I am just going to hug Mr. Jarvis goodbye and then I’ll be home.

Okay. See you soon honey. Goodbye Marvin.

The new Carter came and hugged me. Good luck Mr. Jarvis. You’ll need it. Don’t forget to take your heart pills, and back pills, and all the other pills. Don’t drive at night. Also, your social security check barely covers basic living expenses. Haha. Better get one last look at me. This is the last time you’ll see me. I’m never coming back to this hodunk town.

I started crying as the new Carter Austin left. He may not have looked exactly like me, but what does it matter. The world believes he is Carter and I am Marvin.

I sat down because my knees were giving out. I tried to remember everything about my old life, but I could feel it slipping away. I’m trapped. There is nothing I can do. You know what sounds good right now. A good pipe. I wonder if NCIS is on. 6:30pm. Almost time for bed. Well, maybe being an old man isn’t going to be so bad after all.

#male body swap #age regression #age progression #old to young #male body theft #identity theft #young to old #weight gain #body switch

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 7 months

Note

AITA for reporting my shitty college roommate to the FWS and her teacher, and possibly getting her suspended/expelled/jailed/fined?

CW for brief dead animal mention

For context: I live in the USA and all native species of birds are protected under the Migratory Bird Treaty Act, which makes it illegal to kill, harm, etc. native bird species and/or possess parts of them including molted feathers, bones, nests, etc.

Also: The FWS is the Fish and Wildlife Service and is a government agency that deals with animal and plant conservation and habitat protection.

Anyways, I (F25) live in a dorm room with two other people, Ally (F26) and Sammy (F28) (not their real names obviously). Sammy is a nice roommate, she's very considerate and kind, and we get along really well.

Ally, on the other hand, is a nightmare.

Very self absorbed, rich parents, "white witch" privileged white girl type, treats Sammy and I like maids instead of roommates.

Ally and I are both art students, I'm pursuing 3D animation and she's doing... Something. I have no idea. Sculpting?

I do digital modeling and animation so I can just do that in my room on my PC, but she needs a specific area to do her sculptures, which is fine!

Except that she does NOT clean up after herself. Leaves material all over the place, there's bits of clay stuck to fucking everything, and she does it right in the living room.

She's also burnt sage INSIDE THE APARTMENT despite Sammy having asthma. She did not warn us beforehand, we found out when we walked in and Sammy started coughing and wheezing and we had to go back outside. She was 100% aware of Sammy's asthma because she saw her use her inhaler once and asked about it.

She then asked if she "could try it" which... Girl what. "Can I try it?" Has now become an inside joke between Sammy and I about her inhaler.

Coming from a rich family, I can tell she's never faced any consequences for her actions. Ever. She thinks she's untouchable and that mommy and daddy will pay for everything and make all her problems go away.

Sammy and I come from families who are not ungodly rich, and that's resulted in her treating us like live-in maids. She does none of the chores, none of the housework, absolutely nothing. Constantly inviting her friends over to peruse her "art gallery". Regularly keeps Sammy and I up at night with her music and friends.

We rent an apartment near our college, and we don't live in the dorms so we don't have anyone to complain to besides our landlord, who's an incredibly sweet elderly woman that we're all hesitant about bothering.

Except for Ally, who's prepared to bother her about everything, including but not limited to: Apartment being too hot. Apartment being too cold. A weird smell. Noise from the street. Neighbors dog barking. Front door being creaky.

We basically went "Haha hey Ally don't worry you're SO busy lol we'll talk to her for you okay!" just so she doesn't bother the poor lady.

We're mostly just afraid that if we kick out Ally, her parents will tear that woman apart. Sammy and I are both unconfrontational anyways and don't want to bother anyone.

Ally is working on her latest sculpture for finals (basically the big report due at the end of a semester). It actually looked pretty cool, but something about it was... Off.

Oh yeah, it's absolutely covered in native bird feathers and a nest. A real one, not one of those fake ones you can buy at a craft store.

She came home one day after going out with her friends for HOURS, and she had two big bags full of stuff. I asked what she was up to and her response was sort of "It's a secret teehee, it's for my art piece ;)" so I was just like haha okay.

So, it turns out her and her friends went out into the woods and spent HOURS picking up molted feathers (all of them are very witchy do-no-harm types so there's no way any of them killed live birds. Ally refuses to even kill bugs, I have to catch them and let them out). She also mentioned her friends parents have tons of bird feeders at their house, which means LOTS of molted feathers.

Also, instead of cleaning them in her bathroom sink she washed them off in the kitchen sink, meaning we couldn't do dishes for a few hours. So that was cool.

I actually collect and clean animal bones in my free time, so I'm very familiar with the laws. I know which species in my state are protected, which species I can possess with a permit, etc. I also know that the MBTA is a thing that exists.

I've met her art teacher before, and I know that the woman's not stupid. She will DEFINITELY notice that the sculpture is covered in blue jay, cardinal, grackle, etc. feathers.

I was going to keep my mouth shut and just let Ally dig her own grave, but I did mention it to her through text. I said "Hey, I love your sculpture but I just wanna let you know that using those feathers is actually illegal, since they're from native species of birds. My parents own chickens and ducks and I can get you a lot of really cool feathers for your project if you want! Sorry for the bad news but I just don't want you to get in trouble :("

She messaged back and said "Um, thanks but I don't want feathers from gross barnyard animals, Mother Gaia gifted me these beautiful feathers. Besides, I actually have money to take care of my problems."

What the fuck.

I didn't know what else to do besides message back "Oh! Okay!"

Those "gross barnyard animals" she mentioned include breeds like dominiques, copper marans, both gold and silver sebrights, Yokohama, and a few cayuga ducks, all of which have absolutely gorgeous feathers. I was also going to surprise her with some peafowl feathers because my parents' friend owns them.

So here's where the AITA part comes in.

I was furious with her constant classism, treating Sammy and I like shit, and blatantly disregarding laws (especially ones literally put in place to protect "Mother Gaia's" creatures) just because her parents have money.

So after she went to bed I went out into the living room, took pictures of her sculpture, and then not only sent the pictures to her art teacher but the FWS. I let the game warden know I also emailed her teacher and vice versa. I also sent screenshots of our conversation where I told her about the law, so they had proof she was 100% aware of it but ignored it anyways.

I let Sammy know, and her response was "That's a thing? Well, her teacher would have reported her anyways I guess."

A few days later, we get a knock on the door. It's a game warden. I let him inside, went to my room, and proceeded to listen to Ally doing her "I'm a poor innocent victim how could you do this to me!" crying. I mostly just felt bad for the poor game warden for having to deal with her.

The only thing I could hear from the other room was her wailing like a banshee and him going "Ma'am, please calm down. Are you alright ma'am? Ma'am..."

A few days later Sammy and I came back from the store to see all of Ally's stuff gone. All of her clay, supplies, clothes, etc. were gone and her room was totally empty except for her bed frame (which came with the house).

I have no idea what happened. I'm sure she wasn't allowed to turn in a sculpture covered in illegal feathers for her final, so Idk if she was suspended/expelled or if she just had a tantrum and moved out?

On one hand it was really fucking nice seeing her face consequences for her actions, but the other part of me feels bad about possibly getting her suspended/expelled/fined/jailed over feathers and a nest.

The EPA website states that punishment for MBTA violations for misdemeanor offences (which I believe she committed since I don't think she planned on selling anything, and I know she didn't kill any of the birds) can range from up to $5,000 in fines to no more than six months in jail.

So, AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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rubbish78 · 1 year

Photo

(x)

#@ Punk Spring Japan 2023 #gerard way #living dead business hot lady #mcr #my chemical romance #decay era #or maybe it' swarm era whatever #tw: flashing lights #rubbish78gifs #my gifs

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folklorebae · 2 years

Text

𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐦 𝐀𝐔 - 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 𝐅𝐢𝐜

Cast(s): Actress!Reader & Actor!Suna Rintarou

Warning(s): Swearing, slut-shaming, reader is using she/her pronouns, slight semi x reader

A/n: I recommend you to read my drabble first. But this could be read separately

Liked by sydney_sweeney and 5,946,073 others

yourinstagram un cappucino s'il vous plaît

tagged: @bellahadid

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bellahadid Love you, ma fée🧚‍♀️

Liked by yourinstagram

rintarousuna Me after downloading duolingo

↳yourinstagram 😀😁😐🤔

↳ynfan1 LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THEM!

ynfan2 SHUT UPPP. THIS WHOLE WEEKEND YOU'VE BEEN SLAYING😩❤️‍🔥

yn.sassy Another day, another slay

↳ynln.xo Perioddd

7,659 likes

itsunadaily WIRED Interview ft. Rin and Y/N is out now!

View all 214 comments

sunafan1 PLS PLS PLS THEY'RE SO FUCKING ADORABLE

↳sunafan2 IKR

ynfan3 Okay okay, I'm curious. WHO IS Y/N'S S/O?

↳ynfan1 I think it's clear that there's something between them

↳ynfan3 I thought Rin has a gf? I mean, that mysterious girl?

ynfan4 I NEED TO SEE THESE TWO AGAIN! CANT WAIT FOR THE SEASON 2😩

Liked by atsumumiya and 4,825,948 others

rintarousuna Thanks @wonderland and everyone who played a part⚡️🖤

Order now.

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yourinstagram Damn boy, can I get your number?

↳rintarousuna I'm taken, sorry

↳ln.dailyyy Atp I don't believe you guys are just friends

aquariusuna JAW ON THE FLOOR

sunafan3 RINTAROU SUNA THE MAN THAT YOU ARE

netflix [CAR CRASH] [GLASS SHATTERING] 'GOOD LORD!' [GENERAL COMMOTION] [BABY CRYING] 'WAAAAH WAAAH' [YELLING] [POLICE SIRENS] WEEWOO WEEWOO [HELICOPTERS] 'WE'RE REPORTING LIVE-' [EXPLOSION] 'MY LEG... MY LEG...' [DOGS BARKING] ARFFF ARFFF 'OH MY GOD MY CHILD!!!' [CRASHING BUILDING] 'MY FUCKING HOUSE IS ON FIRE!!!!'

↳ynfan5 Bro... you good?😭

↳ynsangel I believe this is an easter egg for season 2

11,736 likes

rintarouflorals RUMOR (via deuxmoi): Rin was seen with Y/N in Paris

P.s I beg all of you to not believe everything you read on the internet. Please keep the comments respectful, thank you.

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sunafan4 Isn't it obvious that they're more than friends?

↳sunafan5 Maybe, but I think people should leave them alone and mind their own business lol💀

sunafan6 I will never trust that stupid gossip page

sunafan7 Idk bout you all, but Rin and Y/N don't make any sense

↳ynfan6 FINALLY. Someone say this! They don't give any romance energy imo

21,858

florenceflorals Florence via instagram story!

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florencefan1 OKAY BUT Y/N IS IN FRANCE RN?!? I WANT TO MEET HER

↳ynfan7 She has been in paris for a week😭 That ig story is from yesterday

↳florencefan1 WHA–😭

florencefan2 Are we going to see Ms. Flo and Y/N work for the same project again👀

↳florenceflorals 🕯manifesting🕯

florencefan3 Y/N and her are together. Those people who ship Y/N with Eita or Rin could go😍

ynflorals I LOVE THEM SM OMG😭❤️

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rintarousuna.com RINTAROU FUCKING SUNA VIA IG STORY

P.s GOODBYE Y'ALL IM DEAD RN. THIS ACCOUNT IS NO LONGER ACTIVE

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privyn My bf is hotter than hell

↳sunafan8 Girl, he's OUR bf

↳privsuna lmao

sunafan9 Oh God... Idk how many people died because his whore behavior

ynfan8 FUCKKKK I JUST ORDERED HIS MAGAZINE AFTER THE WEBSITE IS GOING DOWN FOR AN HOUR AND NOW THIS MOTHERFUCKER HAS THE AUDACITY TO BE THIS HOT

ynfan9 @yourinstagram, ISTG you're the loml. But babe, I am this close 🤏 to steal your man

sunafan10 WHY THIS PIC IS TAKING ME BACK TO THAT VIDEO EDIT WITH "WHY'D YOU ONLY CALL ME WHEN YOU'RE HIGH" AS A BACKSOUND?!?!

37,975 likes

enews The fans have been speculating about L/N and Semi's relationship for months. But after attending his concert last night in Paris, the "I Know Places" star was seen having dinner at César Paris with co-star Rintarou Suna. Click the link in bio for more👀 (📷: Instagram/Getty)

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ynfan10 You guys need to stfu and get a life. Leave my girl alone

↳ antiyn1 Your fav is a hoe, just admit it lmao

↳ ynfan10 "TPWK🌸" in your bio is bs. Your fav is ashamed of you lmao

semifan1 Ok but imagine being that pretty and people make rumors between you and these two fine men🥲

privsemi Wtf is wrong with these people💀 @privyn

↳privyn Apparently netizens can't see a woman supporting her male friend😍

sunafan11 Rin ily, but you and Mr. Rockstar need to leave and let me be with Y/N

44,748 likes

lnandsuna.media “I don't think I owe anyone an explanation about it (his romantic relationship). For now, both of us have agreed to keep our relationship out of the public eye and as long as we're happy, it doesn't matter what strangers think about us.” — Rintarou Suna for Wonderwall, 2022

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ynfan11 Um... where is this coming from?😭

↳lnandsuna.media papz took some pics of him with his girlfriend kissing in the alley earlier this year

↳ynfan11 OH YEAH SHIT. I JUST REMEMBERED. THANK GOD WE CANT SEE THE GIRL'S FACE.

sunafan12 Even deep down I wanna know his girlfriend's face, these paps should leave them alone omfg.

sunafan13 I feel so sorry for him, he deserves better:(

ynfan12 Paps need to chill omg. What if that girl isn't a celebrity and suddenly everyone in her life knows that she's dating a famous actor?

↳sunafan14 That girl is a public figure (my aunt used to work for her stylist) and everyone around her knows her bf

↳ynfan12 So what if she's a public figure? She deserves a privacy

↳sunafan14 I didn't say she didn't deserve privacy. I just said that she's a public figure

Another a/n: I'll do a part 2! (If you wanna be tagged lmk) Stay tuned mwah<33

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x female reader #haikyuu x f!reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu smau #hq x reader #hq x female reader #hq fluff #hq smau #suna x reader #suna x female reader #suna x f!reader #suna fluff #suna smau

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catholic-character-tournament · 11 months

Text

Round 2 - Side A

Propaganda below ⬇️

Ronan Lynch

Uhh fun fact he saw the devil flash his father once, and that's one of the reasons he goes to church on Sundays <3

context for this scene from book 2: ronan is in church with his older brother declan, younger brother matthew, and ghost friend noah "Joseph Kavinsky isn’t someone I want you being around,” Declan added. “Don’t snort. I’m serious.” Ronan merely invested a look with as much contempt as he could muster. A lady reached over the top of Noah to pat Matthew’s head fondly before continuing down the aisle. She didn’t seem to care that he was fifteen, which was all right, because he didn’t, either. Both Ronan and Declan observed this interaction with the pleased expressions of parents watching their prodigy at work. Declan repeated, “Like, actually dangerous.” Sometimes, Declan seemed to think that being a year older gave him special knowledge of the seedier side of Henrietta. What he meant was, did Ronan know that Kavinsky was a cokehead. In his ear, Noah whispered, “Is crack the same thing as speed?” Ronan didn’t answer. He didn’t think it was a very church-appropriate conversation. “I know you think you’re a punk,” Declan said. “But you aren’t nearly as bad ass as you think you are.” “Oh, go to hell,” Ronan snapped, just as the altar boys broached the rear doors. “Guys,” Matthew pleaded. “Be holy.”

Gay Catholic streetracing farmer. Consumed by catholic guilt NOT because of the gay thing but because he can Create things in a way he thinks should be only God's business. Will literally roll up to mass on sunday morning still drunk and bloody.

THIS GOTH KID IS LITERALLY GOD. This is a god trapped in the body of a Catholic teen and if he ever stopped feeling Catholic guilt he’d end the world!!. How is your confession every week that you creating a whole new being? Babygirl the God is coming from inside the house

eldritch entity from beyond the mortal plane wants to be a Real Human Boy, becomes a real (ish!) human (ish!) boy, goes to mass every sunday

Gay boy got his crush an apartment above his church so he could have his two favorite things in one place

gay. I'm not caught up the the series but I went through the tag when the latest book came out and I remember seeing a quote that said he worried if his boyfriend would make it to heaven when he dies because of his agnostic tendencies.

Kid is like a dream warlock who creates psychic horrors and never goes to confession because why would he? and he’s gay

There are no words

basically ronan's powers are inherited from his dead father niall and it means he can bring anything from a dream into real life. so he's got this whole crisis about whether he is a living piece of blasphemy because men are not meant to have the powers of gods or whether he literally is god. which is not acceptable to him for a number of reasons but mostly because he hates himself. his love interest's name is adam and adam lives in a small apartment above a church which the book says focuses the objects of his worship neatly into one building. I love them both dearly. also, this entire page makes me feel like I'm going insane. Ronan Lynch believed in heaven and hell. Once, he’d seen the devil. It had been a low, late morning at the Barns when the sun had burned off the mist and then burned off the chill and then burned the edges off the ground until everything shimmered with heat. It never got hot in those protected fields, but that morning, the air sweated with it. Ronan had never seen cattle pant before. All of the cows heaved and stuck their tongues out as they frothed with the heat. His mother sent Ronan to put them in the shade of the cattle barn. Ronan had gone to the searing metal gate, and as he did, he’d glimpsed his father, already in the barn. Four yards away from him had stood a red man. He was not truly red, but the burned orange of a fire ant. And he was not truly a man, because of the horns and the hooves. Ronan remembered the alienness of the creature, how real it had been. Every costume in the world had gotten it wrong; every drawing in every comic book. They’d all forgotten that the devil was an animal. Looking at the red man, Ronan had been struck by the intricacy of the body, how many miraculous pieces moved smoothly in harmony, no different than his own. Niall Lynch had had a gun in hand — the Lynches had an enormous number of guns of all sizes — and just as Ronan had opened the gate, his father had shot the thing about thirteen times in the head. With a shake of its horns, the unharmed devil had presented its genitalia to Niall Lynch before bounding off. It was an image that had yet to leave Ronan. And so Ronan became a reverse evangelist. The truth burst and grew inside him, and it was laid upon him to share it with no one. No one was meant to see hell before they get there. No one should have to live with the devil. So many homilies on faith were ruined once you no longer required it for belief.

Friar Tuck

If you use the picture of furry friar tuck from the Disney Robin Hood, bless you 🙏

#Ronan Lynch #the raven cycle #raven cycle #cct polls #tumblr tournament #tumblr bracket #tumblr polls #friar tuck #robin hood

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mermaidsirennikita · 7 months

Note

Hi!! I was wondering if you could point me in the direction of wlw romance books? Do you know of similar blogs like yours who post about them or of any authors? You reviewed the one with the pilot and the nurse, and I was really excited to see that and have been itching for more ladies lol

Yes!! We really need more sapphic books in romance; wlw is probably the least-represented type of pairing (besides... any involving trans/nb charactes in general). That's why I try to request any that I think will potentially appeal to me (I have a FFM triad fantasy romance ARC to read and review this month that apparently puts a heavy emphasis on the women, and a f/f selkie ARC for next year!).

For more reviews, you can check out the Lesbrary, though that's not ONLY romance. But yeah, that's all ladies all the time!

I would also recommend checking out romance.io. It's a great romance-exclusive reading resource, and you can filter by trope and gender pairings.

For more sapphic books, I'd recommend checking out:

The Fae Queen's Captive by Sierra Simone. This archeologist girl gets kidnapped by faeries, and she basically has to become the mysterious and cool fae queen's temporary consort. It's VERY hot, and a great one to read around Halloween. Good bit of gore, as a heads up.

The Thornchapel series by Sierra Simone. Gothic erotic romance dark academia type book about six friends who accidentally wake a dark supernatural force when they start doing these ancient sex rituals together. WHO WOULDA THUNK IT. There are orgies where everyone fucks everyone and everyone is bi, but the two main relationships are an MMF triad and a FF romance. Everyone gets POVs, and the f/f relationship is sooooo beautiful. It is BDSM, one of them is a domme and the other is her sub; it's very grumpy/sunshine, stern/sweet. Great plus size rep from one of the women. Honestly just a gorgeous love story that's super complex and compelling. TW for past sexual assault (this involves one of the women in the f/f relationship; it's not super graphic, but it is something that she needs to seek therapy for, her arc does involve recovery, and she does suffer from PTSD) and possible incest (not the f/f relationship) and general kinda dark vibes. But everyone gets an HEA in the end, especially the Rebecca and Delphine (the ladies).

An Island Princess Starts a Scandal by Adriana Herrera. Sapphic historical, Manuela ends up in Paris (the lesbian hub of the 1800s) and she wants to live her life as a gay woman before settling into a marriage with a man. So she asks Cora, this icy seductive rich widow/businesswoman, to give her an intro to gay Paris, in exchange for Manuela giving her this business thing she wants. What Cora doesn't realize initially is that Manuela is actually super committed to getting deflowered by Cora as well. It's very uptight meets wild, very swoony, very sexy.

A Long Time Dead by Samara Breger. A gothic vampire romance, it's about a sex worker who wakes up having been turned into a vampire in 1800s England, with this very worried vampire lady hovering over her. Because oops, the lady's ex turned her into a vampire as a revenge thing? So it's like, decades of these two falling in love, and tension, and a coven of queer vampires, and the ex attempting to murder people. Very romantic and hot and great.

Mortal Follies by Alexis Hall. This one is like, a Midsummer Night's Dream meets Jane Austen. It takes place in a fantastical Regency era, and one of the heroines leaves this ball because a hex has been put on her and her dress is disintegrating? Only for her to be intercepted by this dark and dangerous woman who's rumored to have killed her father? Magical, whimsical, somehow still very poignant at points?

The Fiancee Farce by Alexandria Bellefleur. A contemporary romcom wherein this bookshop owner(? employee?) pretends a romance cover model is her girlfriend to get her family off her back... Only for the model to turn out to be the heiress to a publishing empire, and in order to gain her full inheritance, OF COURSE she must marry!!! Funny, sparkly, a good time.

Generally, for authors:

Olivia Waite writes tons of f/f historical romance, Katee Robert writes some f/f erotic romance and some FFM, Sierra Simone tends to dabble in f/f and FFM more than most, Alexandria Bellefleur often writes f/f, Meryl Wilsner writes f/f contemporary, (I liked their recent Cleat Cute) Adriana Herrera writes f/f and m/f and m/m (I think) and has an erotic f/f holiday novella with a lady Santa out (Her Night with Santa). Check out the Pride not Prejudice anthology for tons of queer novellas, including an f/f alien romance by Ruby Dixon and a f/f historical by Amalie Howard!

#romance novel blogging #book recs

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ha1taniwh0re · 2 years

Text

Her first kiss

Reader is younger sister of Moriarty brothers, she met Sherlock on Nostick and had some feelings for that man, well when she met him she wasn’t sure she liked him but after this ball she was 100% sure she likes him.

Fandom: Moriarty the Patriot

My bestie @shieriholmes wanted some Sherlock posts soooooo here you go bestie. It is short but i hope you like it.<3

Reader pov

Beautiful night, i was getting ready for a ball when a heard a knock on my door.

“Yes?”

I saw my older brother Albert walking into my room.

“(Nickname) you look stunning”.

“Thank you ni-san”.

I went to my desk and took my mask.

Let me introduce myself. Im (name) Moriarty, youngest child in Moriarty family. Albert and I are blood related and our brothers William and Louis are adopted ones. But for world Louis is the only child who is not blood related to us.

As i was saying, my brother Albert and I are going to the ball. He will meet Irene there and I went just to be his plus one.

When we arrived, host’s butler told us tonight we play Lord of the crime game. One person here is famous Lord of the Crime and he will “kill” others. When someone get killed you need to go upstairs but before you get there you need to give something to charity. Cute.

I was sitting and minding my own business when young blue haired man walked to me.

“Why is such beautiful lady sit alone?”

I looked at him and smiled.

“Sherlock Holmes. What are you doing here?” I said and stand up to hug him.

“Lady Moriarty. Hii”.

We started talking but than butler spoke.

“We have our first victim. Check yourselfs and see if you have wine on your clothes”.

As Sherlock and I was checking each other, my brother was already giving his ring and went upstairs. Some other man also went upstairs that must be Irene.

“Why don’t we go to walk?” I asked Sherlock.

“Sure”.

As we were walking we heard someone screaming. We rushed to place and saw some noble man dead. I looked to Albert and he smiled at me and I smiled back. Our mission is done here. As i was about to turn and tell Sherlock that i will go to my brother upstairs he pulled me and kissed me.

“Im sorry princess, i need to work now” he winked at went out.

I stood there, I couldn’t speak. Albert came to me downstairs angry and scared.

“Are you okey (nickname)? Did he do something to you!?” He asked

“No im fine”, i said and smiled with blush face.

Albert smiled and we went home after 2 hours. William and the others were waiting in the living room.

“Welcome home guys, how was a ball?” Louis asked.

“For me good, mission is successful but i think (nickname) had a better night than me”, Albert said and smirked at me.

“Oh really can you tell us why?”, William asked.

“I had my first kiss”, i said with blushing face.

Everybody were looking at me.

“WITH WHO?!” Moran asked.

“Sherlock Holmes”.

From that day everyone were teasing me about Sherlock. Bond-kun always jokes that he saw Sherlock shirtless and how he looks hot. Master Jack would always went through Sherlock’s street with me and when we see Sherlock, Master Jack or Louis would talk about me with him. I hate them.

#moriarty the patriot #anime #moriarty the patriot x reader #yuukoku no moriarty #albert james moriarty x reader #william james moriarty x reader #sherlock x reader #william james moriarty #sherlock moriarty the patriot #sherlock holmes

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realmackross · 6 months

Text

PARTIES: @lithium-argon-wo-l-f; @realmackross TIMING: Early August SUMMARY: On a (rather peculiar) whim, Gael decides to chance by the Dance Macabre when a bar fight breaks out. Mack, who’s on shift, hops in and the two wrestle with some undead. WARNINGS: Alcohol Mention tw, Physical Violence tw

He had to be honest, the Dance Macabre wasn’t the type of place Gael saw himself visiting - while he enjoyed nightclubs and had a proclivity towards bars, something about this one didn’t really appeal to him. However, he wasn’t a quitter and though he felt as though he should’ve been accompanying someone, he showed the indifferent bouncer his ID and he was granted access. The feeling that bubbled in Gael’s gut before entering the establishment seemed to churn even more once he was confronted with dark industrial music and, much more worryingly, a sense that he wasn’t where he was supposed to be. The place felt… dead. Even as he carefully made his way to the bar, the room felt chilled, as though he were actually in a morgue (which didn’t seem entirely inaccurate as the gothic decor was through the roof in this place). He also felt like he was the oldest person there by about 20 years, which never felt good. Wondering if maybe he should’ve turned then and there and gone somewhere more familiar and warm, Gael approached the bar where he looked at the grotesque collections on the shelves, including what appeared to be a jar of fingers and several cases of thick red liquid. “I’ll uh… Okay new plan. What would you recommend?” He asked the bartender, a lovely younger lady with blond hair and bright eyes.

— It had been a pretty busy night for Mackenzie. All the undead and emo teens alike had been dancing the night away as if their lives and undead lives depended on it. And the tips were coming in hot. There had been maybe three kids total who had recognized the young actress, which, in her opinion, made for an even better night. She was easily going to make enough tip money to pay off her As Seen On TV bill that was pushing $400.

Seeing an older gentleman approach the bar, Mackenzie quickly grabbed a towel and wiped everything down. She could remember the days when she’d go out with friends and rest her arms on the countertop only to be grossed out by all the condensation and spilled beer, “Hey there.” She could tell this wasn’t his scene. He seemed a bit confused by the decor and what was being offered, and honestly, Mackenzie had to tell herself lies to make what she was serving seem acceptable. But how could she deny what it really was, when even she consumed human flesh and brains? “What do you like? Fruity? Spicy? Hard liquor?”

Since coming to Wicked’s Rest, it seemed like her life had changed even more than she ever could have realized. There was just something about this town that wasn’t quite right and made even Hollywood look normal. But it just felt right. Like she belonged now. Maybe it was slowly starting to sink in more than she had wanted to admit, but Mackenzie wasn’t the same girl she used to be. Yet, she still wasn’t ready to leave her old life behind, and it was a fine line she was teetering on between going off the deep end or accepting that maybe after time, everything would be okay.

—

Gael realized dumbly that he didn’t even say hello to the bartender. That wasn’t like him. He was savvy enough, however, to continue the conversation and he knew he’d be able to circle around to it. “Well,” He mused, trying to relax a little more and he tapped his chin in thought. “I lean towards mojitos and tequila sunrises so by those standards, I like fruity!” He let his natural charisma take back over his features as he settled into where he figured he was going to be spending at least the next hour trying to mold himself to fit in with this environment. Notably, he kept his eyes on her now. “And I’m really sorry niña, I was totally rude and didn’t even ask for your name or how you were doing tonight.” Gael offered a sheepish scoff. He then leaned back and motioned to her. “I know you probably get this question a lot but what do you like? Like, gimme the insider information.” He leaned back forward, propping his torso on his elbows as he looked at her with his dark-circled brown eyes, conveying curiosity and attention to her; he wasn’t entirely comfortable here so he did what he did best - focus on someone. She was the only person who mattered right now.

—

Fruity. Mackenzie could definitely work with fruity, “Hey, I love a good fruity drink. Is this dealer’s choice tonight or were you thinking of something in particular?” She hadn’t been bartending too long, but she had enjoyed it. It was always fun mixing up the different drinks, and remembering the ingredients seemed to keep her mind sharp for when she would be able to go back to acting. At least that's what she kept telling herself. Truth of the matter was, it would probably never happen, unless she could ever face her own fears of who she was and somehow workout what she had done.

“Hey, you know what? That’s totally fine! You’re honestly the first person to ask.” She looked out towards the dance floor, “Most of the people here are more concerned with getting laid, then knowing my name or how I’m doing.” It was true. They wanted their drinks, to dance, and to find someone to either take home and eat, fuck, or kill. “But as for me, like I was saying earlier, I do enjoy a good fruity drink, but I also like the hard stuff, like vodka or fireball.” Fireball was Mack’s new favorite, because she could somewhat feel the burn on her tongue.

— She’d obviously been in that business long enough that she knew how to avoid answering that type of question, as she provided neither her status of how she was doing nor her name. He made a note that if she wasn’t going to offer her name, he was sure he’d learn it eventually but he opted to give her an impromptu nickname, as he tended to do. “You’re telling me!” Gael laughed in response to the ‘hard stuff’. “I’m a baby; I was thinking like, a mojito.” He gave a small smile. “Blackberry mojitos, those are my ultimate favorite.” The professor then briefly revisited the comment about people frequenting that bar so they could, in relative terms, ‘get laid’, which just served as another tally on Gael’s list for how he didn’t think he quite fit into the mold there. Indeed, he seemed to feel eyes on him and he casually looked around again, his unnatural gaze that helped him see much better in the dark than they used to dancing on the lights, the colors that bounced around, the people that moved around. Fortunately, he’d been in enough bars both before and after his accident that the sound, while grating on him at the worst of times, was passable and somehow easy for him to circumvent. He couldn’t tell if someone was looking at him, though. Not that he necessarily minded most of the time - he was aware of how he looked and his pride wasn’t petty enough to feel insulted by staring. “How, uh… how long have you been here?” He asked, turning back to face the bartender. “Oh! Also uh… blackberry mojito! Er, please.”

—

Blackberry mojitos. It had been forever since Mackenzie had tasted one. All the things she was missing out on as a zombie had sucked. She could recall what things tasted like to the point of if it was sweet, bitter, or salty, but actually enjoying it was a totally different story. Being a zombie sucked. In fact, the more Mackenzie sat on the thought, she hadn’t found any part of it that she had actually enjoyed. And now, here she stood, in a bar full of emo goth kids and probably some dead ones too, considering the things that lingered on the shelves behind her, serving alcohol to people who were probably living in her same depressed way of thinking forcing a smile for others to enjoy.

“Hey, you’re not a baby. You just have great taste.” She winked at him. The one thing Mackenzie had been good at was playing a part, and in her mind, to compensate for the crappy days, she acted like this was just another movie role she was preparing for. Bartending hadn’t been that bad. She had actually found solace in the social scene, even though this had been far from her usual scene.

Mackenzie pulled out a tall glass and began mixing up the drink for her new bar friend, “Since early June. That’s when I actually came to Wicked’s Rest. Just needed an escape from some things back home.” And an escape it was. “What about you? Been here long yourself?” She had become pretty good at serving up drinks and was smooth in the actual process of it all, even throwing in a few tricks, when she was confident her deadened fingertips wouldn’t cause anything to fall and shatter. That had happened once or twice, and it was not pretty.

—

“Only June? That’s not long at all for someone as confident as you seem.” Gael replied lightly, going back to keeping his sunken eyes on her again, ignoring any pairs he might’ve felt on his back. “I’ve been here since January and now that I think about it, I feel like we might’ve spoken online before.” He added. Then again, so many people seemed to move there so frequently, he didn’t think it right to assume that she was one of the ones he’d spoken to about fun things to do around town. “In any case, just January for me. Go back to school at the end of August so I’m just enjoying my summer.” As he talked, watching her make his drink with the ever-admirable level of skill bartenders seemed to have, he couldn’t keep his head from jerking instinctively as he something seemed to push through the thump of the music. He wasn’t sure if he would’ve even noticed it in a regular bar but this one was obviously… unique. It sounded like two individuals starting to argue. At first, Gael was inclined to shrug it off; even a goth dance rave was still ultimately a bar, arguments were bound to break out, right? Or maybe that just spoke to the nature of all the bars he tended to frequent. “How you liking it?” He asked, maybe subconsciously a little louder as though the argument was happening closer to them, which it wasn’t… at least, not at the time.

—

“I think my other job probably had to do with the confidence thing.” Acting had been Mackenzie’s life, literally. And everyday she missed it just a little more. It was hard watching tv and movies sometimes. Knowing the ins and the outs of the business and what it felt like when the director would call action, and she’d lose herself in the character she was playing. God, she missed it so much. “January isn’t that long either, if you think about it. It hasn’t even been a year.” She continued to fix his mojito, “Oh? What’s your name?” Mackenzie had talked to quite a few people, but meeting someone in the wild was always an interesting experience, until he mentioned school, “Wait…are you a professor at the local college here?”

Mackenzie had already made a few friends around town, but if this had been who she thought it was, it was going to be a much more enjoyable night. As she put on the final touches of the beverage, she couldn’t help but notice the man raise his voice somewhat. It wasn’t surprising though in a place like Dance Macabre. Sometimes the music would get super soft and other times super loud, which didn’t always help Mack’s dulled senses, “I’m enjoying it for the most part. It’s not home. But the people have been nice so far.”

She passed the drink over to him, “There you go, sir. One blackberry mojito, with extra blackberries, because I like you.”

—

Gael beamed - he knew he remembered her. Her name was Mack, the actress that he assured he wouldn’t tell anyone about to preserve her anonymity. They talked about singing, martial arts, and fun things to do around town. It all made sense now, much to his relief - he loved both having a name to the face and that he actually sort of knew her in this otherwise-alien environment. “I am! Gael, the chemistry one.” He made a small motion with his head as though to say ‘that’s me!’. Immediately feeling himself lightening up - though he wasn’t entirely wound-up to begin with - Gael tapped his hands on the counter with a childish enthusiasm as she continued with her work. “I completely get that. It can always be weird to move somewhere new, especially by yourself but I’ve noticed that there are a lot of friendly people around here so I think you’ll get on just fine.” He meant that honestly, and going by what he could retroactively recognize by her public conversations, she was already doing great. The thought, accompanied with the drink she mentioned had extra blackberries for no other reason than because she liked him, made Gael smile and he all but decided to block out the increasing noise that was occurring around him, electing to just enjoy the thing Mack made for him. “It’s beautiful!” His smile widened, pulling the glass closer and he enjoyed the sour accents of the drink entering his sensitive nose– ‘...The hell away from me!’ A voice became too loud to ignore and Gael caught it just before he felt someone collide with his shoulder, jostling him forward and as his hand shot out to keep himself upright, fingers rammed into the glass of the mojito, crinkling as the drink was tipped over, spilling the contents onto the otherwise-clean bar countertop. “What the– my drink!” He lamented, his tone pitched. He quickly turned to confront whoever it was that made him waste such a thing. “Hey, you planning on– Uh…” Of course whoever ran into him looked to be about 25 at the oldest and he immediately felt himself try to loosen up. “Okay, look, you seem young and I don’t want to hit a–” His sentence? Unfinished. A fist? To his face. The drink? Still on the counter as he was knocked back into one of the tall bar seats. “Ow??” The professor exclaimed.

—

It was nice finally getting to talk to another online friend. And one who didn’t really know much about who she was or her acting career. Those were always the best. The oblivious people, because they treated her just like any other regular person. Not some celebrity they saw in a movie or online in some meme; though Mack had been made into a meme a couple of times. It was both flattering, but very humbling all at the same time.

“Well it’s nice to finally meet you in person, Gael. And I think you’re right. There have been some pretty nice people here so far. I think I’m even starting to make a really good friend with someone not too much younger than me. Her name’s Alex.” Alex had been a Godsend, and someone that Mackenzie was really starting to vibe with, which didn’t make things feel so awkward.

Looking over her work, Mackenzie had been proud of the drink she had made for Gael. It was almost perfect. Perfect, until she watched it go tumbling down and the glass shattering all because some idiot couldn’t take the fight outside. But it was the punch to Gael that had taken it way too far. Here we go again…

Rushing from around the bar, Mackenzie ran over to Gael to check on him and make sure he was okay, while the other two began to fight each other with swift punches to the face, “Gael, are you okay?” She had moved in close to observe his face under what little light was present over the bar, until she felt something…or someone get shoved into her really hard, causing her to get crushed between the bar and a body, not really hurting her, but angering her instead causing a low guttural growl to come out of her mouth.

— The drink being knocked over was one thing. A small thing, even if it was heartbreaking if given enough care and attention. Being punched when he didn’t do anything to deserve it was another matter entirely but even then, Gael was old and pragmatic enough to know how to disengage from a situation like this, given the age of the other party and the fact that he wasn’t inebriated enough to truly care about preserving his pride. As he recovered from the surprise and a newly-aching cheek, Mack having come from behind the bar to check on him which he started to respond to with a nod and a wave of his hand to indicate that it was okay and to not worry about it, the other member of the opposing party had shoved her. Flares of anger immediately coursed through the professor. “¡Oye!” He launched from the chair and swung at the guy who pushed the bartender, socking him in the jaw while the latter was too busy not focusing on him. “Leave her out of this, asshole!” Gael exclaimed, his instincts as a brawler, a brother, a son and a man all kicking off at once. “You guys wanna fight? C’mon, let’s go.” He settled into a stance as the commotion seemed to draw the attention of the rest of the patrons and he wished right about now… “They need to change the music to uhhh that song they play on Tortuga.” He glanced sideways at Mack. “From Pirates of the Caribbean, you know the one.” Then he popped his neck. “C’mon, Fireball. Let’s take out the trash.” He glanced at Mack, remembering that she was a fighter, herself - this was gonna be easy.

—

Mackenzie had not expected for the night to go the way it was going. She had seen plenty of bar fights since working here, but she was usually able to distance herself as security would come running and break things up, but tonight there seemed to be a larger crowd. And the more action that took place, the more of an audience that grew around them. Something the actress didn’t need happening, but considering she had just been pushed and the internal rage of her unfortunate inherited zombie virus was beginning to take over, nothing else seemed to really matter at that point. Besides, she had missed getting to do stunts and martial arts. Tonight would just be a little gift from the universe.

With Gael fired up and having already thrown at least one punch, a rare, sadistic little smirk fell over her soft features, “Forget Pirates of the Caribbean.” Turning her attention to the DJ on stage as if they had some mental connection, she nodded and suddenly “Bodies” by Drowning Pool started blasting over the speakers throughout the gothic club.

Mackenzie, with a quick nod to Gael at his request, went full force and lunged towards the other member of the pair that had started the fight. As a swift balled fist came flying her direction, she ducked, before sweeping her leg and sending him crashing to the ground, “Come on, Bitch! Get up! You wanted to fight! Let’s fucking fight!”

—

“Oh, c’mon!” Gael shouted over the music as it became deafening to his sensitive hearing. “This is so cliche!” He had a smile on his face despite that, though, and he seemed to adapt to the energy the bar had suddenly shifted to; it’d been a long time since he got into a bar fight proper, even if he did wish that the song wasn’t edgy screaming. Hearing a sound from behind him, reacting before he had a chance to cognizantly think about it, the professor turned and he managed to lean back as a punch from a different guy aimed for him. He scoffed, his grin getting more lopsided. “While a guy is turned around and deaf? And older than you?” He didn’t have to try too hard to make his voice heard but it still came across louder than he probably had to have been anyway as he reciprocated to the attempted punch with one of his own. It missed, of course, since he was too busy making quips and while he did so, a fourth guy seemed to have materialized out of nowhere and looped his arms around his at the shoulders. “Hey, wait–” Fortunately, Gael had been in this scenario enough times, too and he cast a quick glance over in Mack’s direction; true to her word, she seemed a lot more graceful than him when it came to fighting but this wasn’t a contest, this was a fun bar brawl. “Heads up!” He yelled at her as he used the body weight of the guy behind him to lift his legs and he kicked out at the the first guy (Okay his name was now temporarily ‘First’, Gael decided), sending him stumbling towards Mack. —

Mackenzie had managed to make out what Gael was saying over the music just in time, as she popped back up with a roundhouse kick square to the guy’s face that the man had pushed in her direction. “This night just keeps getting better and better!” She looked over to Gael with a smirk, before feeling a fist meet with her face.

Stumbling backwards, Mack scrunched her face up in pain as she felt her jaw pop. Yep, that’s broken. It reminded her of a fight scene she was doing for an episode of Dropped when the stunt guy she was sparring with popped her in the face with his foot by accident. But she had still been alive at the time, and the pain had taken her out for the rest of the day and included a trip to the ER. But tonight, she had felt it a lot less, and with a firm grip on her jaw, popped it back into place, before looking up with hollowed eyes at the man who had punched her.

Without hesitation, she lunged forward at him pushing him backwards, before climbing on top and hitting him as hard as she could. The struggle not to lean in and take a bite out of his neck was very real in the moment, until she realized where she actually was. Giving him another swift punch to the face, she stood back up, waiting for the next person to come at her.

—

What was initially a clever expression on Gael’s face in exchange with hers as she kicked the guy he sent her way, it quickly dissolved into one of concern as she was sucker punched. “Oh my god are you okay?” He said, panic easily lacing his tone as he struggled a little harder to get out of the grip he still found himself bound by - whoever was holding him was a little stronger than he was giving them credit for. He was decidedly less worried about that than he was for the bartender who just got punched. …The bartender who just got punched and he heard the unmistakable click of bones being popped into place. Did she just… relocate her jaw? Gael didn’t have long to think about it before she jumped onto the guy who decked her, barely missing a beat. Did she even feel that? Was her jaw metallic? Was she a CYBORG?? With all of these questions and newly invigorated because she didn’t seem to be removed or dissuaded from the fray at all by that, the professor lifted his legs again and this time pushed himself bodily backwards, using the bar as the anchor he needed. The two men toppled over and Gael rolled off of the stronger guy he accidentally landed on. “Oops sorry–” He didn’t have time to say the whole apology before a different guy picked him up by the collar of his shirt, not unlike the scruff of a dog and he was turned to face one of the young adults, who– “Oohhhh what large… fangs you have.” He said, purposefully not being heard very well if at all by anyone who wasn’t him as he found himself being easily held above the head of what appeared to a vampire, eyes glowing and mouth wide as two long canines stretched across the opening.

—

Glancing back over at Gael as he went down, Mackenzie was just about to move forward to help him, when she noticed that not long after he was being raised up by his collar. Is that fucking fangs? Her eyesight may have been shit, but she knew fangs when she saw them, especially considering this place did serve blood. Just another one of the many perks she was having to adjust to of Wicked’s Rest. But it made sense that there were vampires right? I mean she was a zombie after all. But of course, the young actress had a plan in mind.

“Hey! Douchebag! Put him down! You want fucking blood. It’s on the house!” Was she going to actually serve him blood? No, probably not. Would she serve him a hard kick in the little bats sleeping between his legs? Yes.

Moving away from the guy she had already left in the fetal position on the ground, she walked slowly towards them acting like she was going back behind the bar, but just as she made her way to them, Mack stopped right behind Mr. Vampire, sending a straight legged kick up between his legs as hard as she could hoping the little Nosferatus would shrivel up and die leaving Gael a way out.

—

It was an adjustment, Gael had to admit. He had gotten accustomed to the knowledge that werewolves, vampires and zombies existed but he’d only had formal conversations with werewolves, who were just… people. They were just humans except for when they weren’t. They seemed normal by comparison, when he thought about it. Well… Well. WELL– The professor’s head, even as he was staring dark-eyed into the face of a for-sure vampire, tilted as it picked up on Mack’s pre-asskicking one-liner. She had ‘em, too! Maybe the pre-asskicking one-liners were why Gael never seemed to shy away from bar fights; he had what was called a ‘quick wit’. That being said, his wit might’ve been quick but even he knew what his limits were and loath as he was to admit it, as he was dangling cleanly off his feet being held up, he probably didn’t have the strength or reflexes to keep up with vampires. Surely… surely they wouldn’t bite him in public, right? While it was a bar and the music was very loud and the lights were very… pulse-y and flashy, maybe it gave the vampire the vibes it needed? Was– Was Gael going to become a vampire that night? A sudden horror of realization thundered through his mind, lingering longer than it should’ve even as Mack kicked the vampire in the groin. Once again, Gael and whoever was hanging onto him tumbled to the ground and he hopped up much faster this time, ignoring the thumping in his lower back where he kept seeming to land on his scar of all places. “So!” He said hurriedly to Mack. “I don’t have any vampires in my repertoire.” He said before he hopped clean over the bar and opted to crouch behind it, looking up at her. “Any ideas? I’m thinking about… owing you for that mojito and just laying low. I’d rather not turn into a vampire today.”

—

Once both the vampire and Gael went down, Mackenzie scurried behind the bar. She knew he could easily come around to the other side and drag the pair, now in hiding, out, but right now, he was down for the count, “Uh, yeah, that makes sense. I don’t want you to become a vampire either.” The words had slipped out in the moment. She had already been dead, so any chance of her becoming a blood sucking creature of the night was impossible, as far as she knew. Besides, blood was gross. But brains on the other hand. Get it together, Mackenzie.

Slowly raising up, she peered over the bar to see he was still out, and quickly ducked back down, “Damn I must have hit him just in the right spot.” Mackenzie snorted before looking over to Gael, “I’m not exactly sure why the bouncer on duty tonight hasn’t come to take care of this yet, but I know there’s a door that leads out back into an alley. I can get you there while he’s down for the count.” Mackenzie was pretty sure she’d be fine. But it was Gael, she was more so worried about, “Does that work for you?”

—

“Glad we’re in agreement on that.” Gael nodded, not missing the part where she failed to mention that she didn’t want to become a vampire either, but if her weak (or nonexistent, from what he could hear) heart rate had anything to say about it, she probably wasn’t a human and he didn’t know a lot about vampires but he figured that nonhumans couldn’t become vampires since they were already something else. Right? He stayed where he was as she peered over the top of the bar, his head instinctively tilting as though trying to hear for something underneath the pounding music. When she reappeared, Gael’s dark eyes darted back to her. Ah, so there WAS supposed to be a bouncer, that made sense - it had been a while since the professor had found himself in a bar fight where the bouncer had taken longer than a few minutes to involve themselves so when one hadn’t shown up yet and apparently there was a vampire involved, his mind was starting to raise questions. The man listened to her instruction and he glanced over as though he’d have been able to see the door from where he was crouching. He couldn’t, of course, so his gaze instead grew concerned as he looked back to Mack. “You sure? You aren’t gonna, like, get in trouble or hurt or anything, are you?” He asked.

—

Mackenzie wasn’t sure what the hell was going on. It was like all chaos had erupted when the bar fight initially broke out. But she’d sure as shit be having a few words with the bouncer that was supposed to be on duty when all was said and done. This was unacceptable even for a nightly emo rave, “I’m positive. And I’ll be fine. It’s not my fault the new guy isn’t doing his job. But you better move soon, because I don’t think that guy is going to stay down for long.”

Feeling her knees and bones pop as she stood back up still bent down somewhat hiding from what lay just on the other side of the bar, she glanced back at Gael, “Follow me.” The music had been loud enough to mask footsteps and the people gathered around the unconscious guys on the floor. Along with the strobing lights, it would definitely be the perfect camouflage as she led Gael towards safety.

—

The thought that he was going to be able to leave while Mack had to clean up afterwards didn’t sit quite right with Gael. But at the same time, they’d talked previously about her skills with martial arts, not to mention he got to see some of them first-hand during the scuffle. Plus, she worked there; surely she wouldn’t have gotten in trouble on Gael’s behalf, right? So, after a noncommittal nod, Gael followed her as she instructed, treading lightly though he placed a hand on his back as he felt the scar tissue stretching and aching uncomfortably as they moved - he really was getting too old for acting like a college kid, wasn’t he? Nonetheless, he followed behind the barista, which seemed easy and quick enough given that their environment was lending itself well to a discreet exit strategy. Once he saw the door with his sharp vision (though it wasn’t helped by the strobing lights), he loosed a laugh, recalling what all had transpired, weird vampire appearance notwithstanding and he gave Mack a look with a mischievous glint in his tired eyes. “Well that was fun! Sorry for starting something back there.” Gael gave her a small, gentle pat on the shoulder. “You weren’t kidding online about the martial arts thing; maybe you should teach me a thing or two sometime!”

—

When the pair had made it to the door, Mackenzie felt a wave of relief. He was safe. She couldn’t, in good conscience, let him stay to possibly become vampire food. It just wasn’t right. Besides, the manager liked her pretty well, and she’d speak directly with him regarding the situation that was at no fault of Gael’s, “Hey, you didn’t start anything. It was the two assholes who are laying on the floor, hopefully still next to the one with the fangs.” It was so weird saying it out loud, especially since this had been the first time meeting Gael.

Mack quickly glanced back to see the crowd still gathered round, before setting her attention on her friend, “Oh, yeah no. I wouldn’t lie about that. It’s a bit of a passion of mine, so if you really want to learn, I’d be more than willing to teach you.” She had noticed Gael’s hand on his back, “But you might want to take care of that first.” She nodded downwards, “Looks like a good hot shower and an ice pack might be your best friend for the next few days.” She felt bad he was hurt, and she’d be sure to check in on him to make sure everything was okay.

Barely making out a growl over the music and the noise of the crowd, Mackenzie knew that the vampire had probably found his footing again, “Okay, Friend. You’ve gotta go. But message me and let me know you made it home safely. I’ll keep tabs on this asshole.” Sure, she wasn’t very strong when she wasn’t hungry, but she did know self-defense, and plus, she was sure she could butter him up with so many drinks that he’d forget Gael ever existed. But what a hell of a night it had been. Unexpected, but fun. “And hey, thanks for a fun shift.”

#para: gael #para: another one bites the dust #lithium argon wo l f #alcohol mention tw #wickedswriting

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ughsimpp · 2 years

Text

sorry but I really like you

word: 1.6k

genre: smut

paring: soft-dom! yeosang x fem!reader

disclaimer: bestfriend to lovers, kissing, slight blowjob, teasing, slight marking, confessions,

[ DO NOT REPOST!!! ]

masterlist

all you wanted to do at home was to relax and sleep. a few moments later you receive 10+ text messages from your best friend yeosang. checked the time and it was 5pm.

ys:hey

heyy

heyyy

heyyyy

hey y/n

y/nnn are you busy?

are you free?

wanna do something today?

okay i'm coming over, see you in 10

you looked at your phone and breathed deeply

you: yeosang.....i'm trying to rest today

ys: too late i'm already coming

y/n: no, stop

ys: okay bye i'm driving!

you got up from the bed and went to the kitchen to heat up some water for some tea. after doing that you heard the doorbell ring. and you knew who it was. you went to the door and saw yeosang smiling.

"hi!!!"

you looked at him dead in the eyes,

"i told you that i just wanted to relax today."

"can i not see my best friend today?"

you let yeosang come in and followed you to the kitchen. you went back to make your tea.

"no. we saw each other and we went out all day yesterday.”

"well since im here, lets do something!"

"like what?"

"we can have a movie marathon and order food?!"

you looked him and scoffed,

"only if you pay for food"

you said while going to the living room.

"okay deal!!"

he smiled and headed towards the tv. you and yeosang knew each other since middle school. he was the quiet type, but after a while you both become close friends. you told each other everything and respected each other. people always thought that you both were dating but you both rejected the idea.

you turned on the tv and picked out something to watch, maybe a crime tv show.

"let's watch this."

yeosang looked at the tv and saw what you picked

"didn't you re-watch this show like 1000x time already? you already know what happens in every episode!!"

"my apartment, my rules on what we're watching, so suck it up,"

yeosang scoffed, you glared at him 'like really?'

"you wanted to bother me today so imma do what i want..."

"okay okay boss lady, play the thing."

it was the 20+ episode you both watched and you looked at your phone to check the time and it was 10pm, you looked over to see yeosang knocked out. you rolled you eyes because you knew he would fall asleep. you got up covered him with a blanket. since he was a sleep, you decided to call a nearby chicken place. being kinda petty you decided yo use yeosang's card, he did say he would pay for food.

"hi can i get an order of half season fried chicken and the other half with the fried chicken mixed in with the hot an spicy sauce? 2 bottles of soju and coke please? thank you!"

that place is usually packed so of course it'll take almost an hour for it to be delivered. you walked back downstairs to check up on yeosang but when you reached the living room he disappeared from the couch. you thought maybe he went home or something since it was late. well, more chicken for you. you turned back around startled by a tall figure standing behind you.

"yeosang!!! you almost gave me a heart attack, i thought you left."

yeosang came in closer rubbing his eyes,

"oh no i woke you and saw that you weren't there and i had to go use the bathroom. sorry if i scared you.."

"okay well i order some chicken but it's gonna take a while since the restaurant i ordered from is busy around this time. since your still here, let's continue watching my show."

yeosang just nodded. during the middle of the episode, you saw yeosang moving around like he was uncomfortable,

"y/n...."

"mhm?"

no reply, you assumed he was just saying your name to be annoying, until you felt him move closer towards you. you were about to turn your head until suddenly you felt a pair of lips on yours. the kiss was passionate and very good apparently coming from your best friend. you finally came back to reality and backed away.

"mhm...wha-what was that for?"

"i like you y/n...ever since middle school. you were the first person that became my friend and im really happy that you did. i never showed interest because were always with someone else...i’ve been there for every breakup you had and honestly i always wanted to tell you that you don't need those fuck boys, but i never got the courage to actually tell you-"

he got interrupted by your kiss. yeosang kisses back and smiled at you.

“i only talked to other guys because i thought i wasn’t your type. you weren’t alway good at expressing your feelings in that way unless it was about some other girl you liked.”

“sounds like we both were wrong about each other mhm?”

“yea, but now at least we both know each other’s true feelings.”

yeosang looked at you and laughed. thinking on how ridiculous you both were. you smiled and pulled him in for a tight hug.

“i still have feelings for you...if you wanna make this happen yeo...”

yeosang smiled brightly and attacked your lips once again. you both made out for quite awhile. you loved being in his arms and just feeling secure. yeosang laid down on the couch as you got on top of him.

"yeosang...lets fuck.."

you said in between kisses. you pushed back and looked at you,

“are you sure?”

you nodded as you smiled, for sure you wanted this.

"y/n baby, once I start, i might not be able to stop or control myself."

yeosang smirked and carried you to the bedroom, with your legs wrapped around his waist and his hands squeezing your ass causing you to whimper. he laid you down on the bed and started taking off his close and yours. after that you were only left in your bra and panties. he awed at the view you were giving him. you got embarrassed so your tried to cover up.

“don't cover up, i love you and your even more beautiful than i've ever imagined."

after he said that you moved your arms away and then yeosang leaned in closer to your body and started kissing your lips, down your neck, chest, stomach and inner thigh. you released soft moans as he continued to kiss you.

"yeosang.....please hurry.."

"awe my baby is so impatient, cute."

"stop teasing me.."

"but i like how you get so embarrassed and it's cute.."

yeosang kisses your neck one more time, and this time he left his mark. he grabbed the side of your panties and took them off. you sat up taking your bra off as well. now all was left was yeosang's boxers. you could already see the imprint of his hard dick. you were just eyeing the shape. he caught you looking a started to smirk.

"you ready?"

you nodded as he took off his boxers revealing his d.ick. he was bigger than you expected. it was maybe even bigger than any other guys you’ve been with. within seconds you got on your knees and started to suck him off. he threw his head back, showing you that you were doing a amazing job.

"fuck y/n....just like that."

you started to moan and began to touch yourself. the moan sent vibrations from your mouth to his cock. after giving him a little taste of what you’re capable of, he pushed you down to the bed and grabbed a condom from his wallet and began to put it on his dick.

"oh, already wet i see."

he positioned himself at your slit, teasing you. he came closer to give you kiss, as soon as he did, he started to thrust in at the same time. the kiss was distracting you from the pain down below.

"oh fuck, y/n your so tight."

you began to moan out his name, arching your back and everything.

"oh..yeo...yeosang....fuck that feels good."

yeosang began to thrust fast into your core giving you all these mixed sensations. both of your moans and groans filled the room. surely your neighbors could hear you and everything else but you didn't care.

"fuck y/n imma cum!!"

he leaned in again, you wrapped your arms around his neck,

"me...me too..."

your were at the edge that feeling. you left marks on his back showing that your were close. you soon came, leaving yourself speechless for a few seconds, as yeosang continues to thrust and within seconds he pulled out and removed the condom, releasing on your stomach. you both tried to catch your breaths. yeosang went to the bathroom to get a tissue,

"sorry about this..i couldn't control myself you know."

he said giving you a sweet smile.

"no it's okay."

you softly smiled at him as he laid next to you and stared at your face. you turned to him and brushed his bangs out of the way that covered his birthmark. his eyes were on you as he cupped your face.

"why you looking at me like that?"

"because i can't believe that actually happened and your still beautiful even after we fucked like that."

you slapped his arm playfully,

"whose fault was that..."

you hit his arm and laughed

"aha i said i was sorry."

minutes later you heard the door bell ring, remembered that you order chicken. you were about to get up but a sharp pain attacked your lower body as you tried to move.

“ah fuck!”

“what!? did i go too hard on you?!”

you smacked his arm once again. yeosang smirked and kissed your cheek.

“i’m just kidding, i’ll get the food. you stay here and rest for a bit.”

you watched at yeosang left the room. yeosang came back and came to your side of the bed. he carried you bridal style and headed towards the living room.

“let’s eat!”

he stuck out his tongue and cheekily smiled at you.

“idiot....but i guess i can’t stay mad you....”

he handed you a chicken leg and looked at your face as you ate.

“cute.”

#ateez #yeosang #kang yeosang #yeosang smut #ateez smut #ateez masterlist #ateez hard stans #ughsimpp

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