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oftenlyshitposting · 2 days ago

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wolfwren week day I | sparring + "are you following me?"

sabine hasn't been going out of her apartment much, as of late. she knows she really should, but she doesn't want to. the past couple of weeks have been rough; college and family wise. ahsoka and hera stops by every now and then, checking up on her.

well, more on ahsoka barging in with her spare keys, while hera actually knocks on her front door.

ahsoka and hera lives just across of her apartment, right on the same floor, just on the other wing. sabine, despite having dealt with ahsoka's multiple tresspassing offense the past weeks, is grateful for their close proximity to each other.

sabine doesn't think she can be truly alone now.

sabine rolls in her bed, huffing an exhausted sigh. she'd been awake since her alarm rung at nine, counting only about four or five hours of sleep. the little analog clock on her bedside drawer displays it's a little over twelve now, and she really should get up to eat something. preferably something solid.

her doorknob clacks, and sabine sighs a weak chuckle as ahsoka's voice echoes in, "oye, mija!!"

"aquí, 'soka," sabine drawls, half shouting as she stays slumped face down. she hears ahsoka locking the door and tossing the keys to her key bowls, and the unmistakeable sound of plastic brushing against fabric as ahsoka walks over to her room.

"dios, sabine," ahsoka sighed, sabine guessed from watching the current state she is in right now. or, her room, could be either or both. sabine felt the edge of her bed dipped, then ahsoka's hand on her back.

sabine hums against her pillow. "don't look at me with that look on your face, ahsoka."

"what look, 'bine?"

sabine shifts to lift her face slightly, side eyeing the older woman. "that look. like i need to be coddled."

ahsoka laughs, shaking her head. "i never thought you should. i know you don't." she pats sabine's back, gentle but firm enough as she says, "but, i am worried about you, mija. so is hera."

"don't worry, 'm fine." sabine drops her face back into her pillow. she knows that ahsoka knows she's lying straight through her teeth. ahsoka can't really be lied to, anyways. sabine is stalling.

ahsoka doesn't say anything, sighing. sabine guesses she has the usual sad-ish smile on her face. the bed creaks, and suddenly she felt ahsoka plopping on her back, making her groan at the sudden additional weight. sabine tries to get up, but ahsoka doesn't budge, only laughing at her attempt.

"ahsoka! what the hell are you doing?" sabine yells, falling back with a heavy 'oof'. "get off me!"

"i'm giving you a hug."

sabine grunts. "no, the fuck you're not! you're squashing me!"

ahsoka shifts, and for a second of false hope, sabine thought she was getting up from her. instead, ahsoka puts her entire bodyweight sabine, making the purple haired girl sink lower to the bed under her. "this is how i hug if you won't stop moping."

"gah! how the hell does hera deal with this?"

ahsoka hums, crossing her arm comfortably. "well, she doesn't mope, so she wouldn't know."

sabine grunts, struggling to rolling over so she wouldn't be on her stomach. she manages to partially shift her position to her side, glaring down at ahsoka. the older woman smirks back at sabine, whose face is flushed and hair wild from the struggle.

sabine shoves ahsoka away frustratedly. "you're pressing on my organs, you shit! ow!" she yelled, feeling mild pain when ahsoka's head is pressing below her ribs. "i think that's my fucking pancreas!"

ahsoka glares unimpressedly at sabine's dramatics. "like you know where your pancreas is, mija."

"it's–" sabine heaves through pushing ahsoka away, only to fall off from the bed ungracefully upside down, "wherever the fuck you just decided to squash." when ahsoka snickers from above the bed, sabine glares at her. "i'm gonna tell hera you bullied me today."

"snitch." ahsoka huffs, as she smacks sabine's legs on her bed as she gets up, walking out. "c'mon, let's eat. i brought your favourite."

sabine's head perks up. "spicy wonton soup?"

ahsoka shot her a look. "no. shrimp jibaritos."

sabine groans, and ahsoka merely shakes her head with a laugh as she exits sabine's room. sabine gets up from her awkward position, head spinning slightly. she sighs, stretching her aching limbs and back as she taps on a button. her curtains drew open, allowing sunlight to enter through her giant windows into her room.

she walks to her bathroom to freshen herself up, trying to ignore the tired eyes reflected on the mirror. when she gets out of her room, ahsoka is already sat on her couch, the tv set on a random channel, while murley sits on the armrest as the orange tabby cat gets lazy pats and scratches from her. the food is already sprawled on her coffee table, and sabine smiles a little.

sabine sat next to ahsoka, reaching over to grab the takeout drink, sipping it slowly. she mutters a small 'thanks', which ahsoka returns with a small hum. she eats in a comfortable silence, munching as she absentmindedly watches the tv. she can feel ahsoka eyeing her from the side, probably wondering the right time to ask her what's going on.

"tristan called me a few days ago," sabine starts, still half munching on the crispy jibarito. ahsoka tilts her head slightly towards her, silently indicating she's all ears. sabine sighs, before continuing, "the kid is trying his best, but my parents–well, my mom, really–doesn't even see it. mom said he doesn't want it enough, and still insists i should be the one to take over the company. i don't even fucking want it; i never did."

ahsoka's face remains neutral, but her eyes exhibits something akin to a mix of pity and sadness. she doesn't say much other than, "i'm still here," to encourage sabine to continue on with whatever she needs to tell ahsoka.

"tristan is literally doing exactly what i did, going to business school while taking so much responsibility in the company. he does it willingly." sabine exhales with her eyes shut, calming down her brewing emotional turmoils. "he's doing so much, but my parents stays blind to what he wants and ignoring what i don't want."

sabine threw her head back against the backrest of her couch, her half-eaten jibarito still sat in her hands. talking about her family always makes her lose her apetite and will to do anything. on worse days, sabine teeters on the edge of returning home and does whatever her mother tells her to do, just to stop all the problems and be done with it. but, sabine knows that's exactly what her mother wants.

for sabine to give up running and living her life.

"sorry about the sudden rant," sabine sniffs humourlessly, attempting to lighten up the mood.

ahsoka shook, merely placing a gentle hand on sabine's shoulder in a way sabine known as comforting. "you're alright, mija. you know what you're doing. i'm here to listen to you, and be there for you when you need me."

sabine's lips tugs to a small smile, nodding. ahsoka is right, as always. it gets overwhelming for her to deal with this on her own, having ahsoka and hera as her closest supports makes her more confident in tackling her problems. to have them to listen to her, is something sabine will always be grateful of.

"thanks, 'soka." sabine leans her head against ahsoka's broad shoulder, resuming her eating.

ahsoka only hums in return.

even when sabine doesn't have much of anyone, she still has ahsoka. the puerto rican woman has always been on sabine's side since she was a teenager; maybe even younger. sabine always looked up to ahsoka, someone like the older sister she never had.

ahsoka left sabine's apartment a few hours after they finished eating and did a bit of cleaning duty. she promised to pick hera up from her workplace, and sabine made a teasing remark that they are going on date night, which ahsoka merely responded with a shake of her head.

sabine had taken a well deserved shower and picked up on some of her college works, keeping her busy past dinnertime. she initially decided against cooking, feeling far too unmotivated for the task. but, she'd taken a look inside her fridge, and, well, some of her groceries are starting to get closer to their perishable dates. sabine ended up whipping a decent stir-fry, fridge cleanout style, and had it while finishing one of her essays.

still feeling remnants of stress lingering in her systems, sabine decided to head to the gym down the block to flush it out of her body for good. considering the last time she worked out was two weeks ago, her body has started to get achey and stiff with lack of active use.

the gym was empty by the time sabine got there, safe for a number of people who are either still working out, or are about to finish. it made sense, given it's already closer towards midnight. sabine drops her items off back at the lockers, and head straight to start her workout regimes.

sabine drowned in the routine, missing the gym slowly emptying, safe for her and another woman. she didn't pay much attention to her, too lost in the rhythm of her exercise and music, assuming it's just the night shift staff. she couldn't help feeling her fleeting gazes reflected on the mirrors, though.

sabine was just finishing up her routine, passing the boxing corner as she walks towards the lockers, when she saw her again. unmistakable bone-white blonde hair that's cropped just above her sturdy shoulders, now tied to a tight little ponytail. her eyes meet with stellar greenish-blue, forming faint crescents as a small smile crept up her lips.

"shin, hey!" sabine calls, widely smiling as she approaches the familiar blonde.

shin gestures a smile wave back at sabine from beside the punching sack, levelling her breaths. "hey, sabine," she returned when sabine is in front of her, "haven't seen you lately."

"yeah," sabine chuckles, "been insanely busy. swamped the whole week in my apartment."

"ah," shin nods understandingly, a wolfish smile on her lips, "that's a shame. the other day, somebody had knocked down the punching bag. i thought it was you again, but unfortunately, it was not."

sabine laughs, head thrown back. "oh, come on. still wouldn't let me live that one down?"

"well, it was an interesting event, no?"

"for you!"

shin's smile broke to a grin, echoed by a deep laugh. "okay, okay. i'll let it slide. for a price."

"oh?" sabine quirked a playful brow, shifting her weight to one hip. "what may that be?"

the blonde trainer presents a pair of boxing gloves at sabine, "spar with me?" with another of her wolfish, lopsided smile.

sabine crowed as she grabs the blue pair of gloves. "alright, you wanna add a little bet?"

"a bet?"

"yeah, y'know," sabine shrugs her shoulders, "just to make it a lil' more fun."

shin places a hand on her hip, interested. "okay, what do you have?"

sabine hummed. she wasn't thinking thoroughly and didn't plan this far out. she should settle for something small and simple. shin was patiently waiting for her, so she replies, "if i win, get the best shawarma down the third block with me."

"shawarma?" shin repeated with a humoured laugh, "this late? really?"

sabine raises her arms, chortling. "hey, it's just the idea on the top of my head!"

"okay, okay. agreed." shin nodded, then quirking a brow at sabine, accent slipping as she ask, "and if i win? what do i get?"

"you tell me! what do you want, gata?"

shin's eyes shift up as she appeared to be thinking, and sabine couldn't really help but find this blonde trainer slash gym staff... strangely endearing.

as shin tilted her head up slightly, sabine can note the myriads of moles scattered on her face like stars. sabine also noticed the sharp slope of shin's jawline, and her high cheekbones that highlights her stellar blue eyes. she likens shin to a pretty porcelain matryoshka in her mind.

shin then decides, "i think if i win, i get to have your number?"

well. that was certainly unexpected for sabine.

"m-my number? you want my number?" sabine flushes, repeating it with barely any eloquency.

"oh, um," shin flusters, appearing awkward, "uh, i'm sorry, i think i was a bit too forward. i thought you... aren't straight. i assumed you liked girls."

sabine's bursted out, "oh! fuck, i do! i love women!" she cringed when she registered what she had just blurted out loud, her brain clicking much too fast. "wait, that's not what i meant. i mean yes, i do like girls because i'm not straight. i was just... not expecting you to ask about my number...?"

shin's ears are dusted in pink, and it really doesn't help sabine to calm herself down. with a shy smile, the blonde replies, "i just figured it'll be easier to find me if you ever need to hit the gym during my shift?"

"i agree," sabine laughs, entertained. "alright then. best of three wins?"

shin had already hopped onto the ring, smiling confidently down at sabine. "sounds good to me."

when they sparred, it's a lot more playful and less intense as their first time. sabine had picked up more of shin's stances and fighting cues, reading her better than the first time. shin is still as acrobatic as always, but sabine managed to keep up with her this time. at some point, just before sabine's muscles gave out, she cornered shin and pinned the blonde by locking her arms and legs with her own.

"wanna yield?"

sabine's lips were right next to shin's exposed ears, her arms locking the blonde's shoulders. they were both breathing heavily, skin to skin close on the boxing ring's mat. sabine noticed shin's face and ears flushed red, but didn't think much of it, assuming it was caused by the heavy breathing from getting locked on top of sabine.

shin, surprisingly, managed to handle herself out of sabine's lock. with a swift motion faster than sabine could've anticipated, shin had reversed their positions, this time pinning sabine down on her stomach with an arm on her back and another above sabine's head. with bated breaths and a triumphant smirk, shin replies, "do you wanna yield?"

sabine's brain is all scrambled; the way shin had pinned her down and the distance from the blonde trainer's lips from her ear aren't helping her form any thoughts or whatsoever. she could only tap her pinned hand on the ring's floor, signalling defeat. only when shin lets her grip go, sabine admits, "i didn't think you'd flip the switch on me. how'd you do it?"

"you had your tricks, i have my own," shin cheekily replies, skipping backwards to grab a water bottle. "you put a good fight, but that's one to one already."

"damn," sabine jumped back to her footings, head tilted in disbelief, "really? that fifth kickflip didn't count as my second point?"

shin laughs, carefully tossing the water at sabine. "unfortunately, no. i didn't yield, did i?"

sabine drinks the water, briefly remembering shin had drank from the same bottle as well, causing her brain to short-circuit momentarily. through her brain-fart she manages, "are you always this stingy?"

"only when i'm sparring with pretty woman." shin shrugs nonchalantly, lifting the bottom edge of her tank to wipe sweat off her face. the motion revealed her toned stomach, which sabine had to fight tooth and nail to not stare for too long.

"um…" sabine began lamely, her mouth definitely haven't caught up with whatever thoughts formed in her lagging brain. she tries again, "so… i guess another stalemate, then?"

"looks like it." shin sighs, a small smile on her lips. "sparring you got me beat, actually. i would love for another round to see which of us could win, but i've got to clock out."

sabine, finally catching her charisma again, cheekily returns, "aw, shame. i'd love to pull your own little trick on you."

"you'll get your chance."

sabine stayed until shin finishes cleaning up and clocking out, walking out the gym with the blonde trainer towards her go-to shawarma place down the block. they exchanged stories, learning more about each other and their day to day's over two chicken shawarmas.

at the end of the night, after parting with shin at a crosswalk, sabine has a new contact in her phone.

and after that, sabine began finding shin in a lot of other places she goes to in the city. all by chance.

tuesday morning, at an indie coffeeshop downtown. sabine was there to grab a cup of coffee and the best (in her opinion) lox bagel within three mile radius. shin was at the counter picking up her order; a cup of honey cinammon tea latte.

(sabine told her the brown-butter croissant would go heavenly well with shin's drink.)

the thrift store two blocks down from sabine's. it was a friday afternoon and sabine was out looking for another heavy flannels because ahsoka doesn't seem like she'd return her (favourite) grey heavy flannels. just as she was heading to the jackets' aisle, she bumps into shin, who was trying out a patchwork denim jacket.

(shin laughs when sabine said that the patchwork denim jacket isn't gay enough for either of them.)

on a wednesday evening, sabine was just riding her bike towards a park, mildly stressed out and in need of a cigarette break. at the smoking area, shin was there, sitting with a lit stick twiddled in her fingers. when the blonde trainer met sabine's gaze, she laughs with a shook of her head.

"didn't think i'd find you in this janky park, too," sabine quipped teasingly, lighting up a stick.

"be honest with me now," shin replies with an equally teasing note, earning a humoured eyebrow raise from sabine, "have you been following me, sabine?"

sabine laughs out loud, head thrown back. "does it really look like i do?"

shin nods her head, taking a drag of her cigarette. "it does. so, are you?"

"i don't even know you smoked too!" sabine refuted, pointing at their lit sticks, smoke rising slowly. she tries her hardest to not stare at the way the damn cigarette sits so prettily in shin's slender finger. she then adds, "i swear, it's like i'm just gonna run into you anywhere."

"okay, fair enough," shin agrees, raising her hands, before cheekily saying, "but to be fair, i am eastern european. we and the balkans chainsmoke like steam trains, you know."

sabine chokes midway dragging her smoke, combusting a choppy laugh-cough. "shin!" when shin only mirrors her laugh, she nudges the blonde's shoulder. "you're ridiculous."

"sorry?" shin offered jokingly. she took the last drag before tossing the stubbed filter to the tray next to her, leaning down to meet sabine's face. "seriously, though. i don't think of you as someone who smoke as well. you okay?"

"yeah..." sabine exhales a huff of smoke, offering a tight-lipped smile back at her, before shrugging unsurely. "i dunno, 'm just been hella stressed. i usually hit this park after riding around at night."

shin shifts closer to sabine. "you ride?"

sabine nods. "custom made triumph."

"wow, you're even more ukrainian than i am."

sabine laughs. "seriously?"

"oh, yeah. definitely." shin flashes a wolfish smirk (and by god, it made sabine's chest race because it's so unreasonably attractive).

"i think it's 'cause i'm gay, shin," sabine joked, which the blonde returned with a humoured chuckle.

"that much, i can see."

"so," sabine began, stubbing her dead stick, lighting another one she fished from the pack beside her, "why am i finding you in this janky ass park? you got something goin' on, hermosa?"

shin shrugs, contemplating. she then sighed, curt and tired. when she spoke, her accent was heavy, "college assignment deadlines catching up on my ass. i've got this... what do you call it? survey-based research paper thing... it's kind of hard to gather the right pool of people to ask. it's just that, really."

"ah," sabine understood, knowing exactly where shin was coming from, "yeah, i feel ya. i had that too for my statistics lecture back in my fourth sem. kicked my ass so bad for a week, 'soka had to search and rescue me from my own apartment."

the frown on shin's face dissipates into a laugh; carefree and sweet kind of chuckle, which doesn't really help much in easing up sabine's stomach butterflies. sabine's cigarette long forgotten, ashes falling softly from where it was lodged between her fingers, opting to study shin's face instead.

shin's greenish-blue eyes meets sabine's.

"qué lindas…" sabine murmured under her breath, not really conscious or mindful about her volume.

shin smiles. "mmm… gracias."

sabine blinks. "you speak spanish?"

"not really, but i have a pair of eyes and a brain."

"i– okay, fair enough."

shin tucks a stray hair behind sabine's ear, sending static down her spine. the blonde's accented voice was barely above a whisper as she says, "як мило."

sabine doesn't understand, but damn.

that did things.

well, shit, sabine thinks.

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mythicalmaven · 2 months ago

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19 Lando fluff and smut please

Secret Desires - Lando Norris

Loved writing this! <3 If you guys want a part 2 where the whole ordeal continues (including Lando’s awkward encouter with Max) let me know!😂❤️

Masterlist ↳pairing: Lando Norris x female!verstappen!reader ↳word count: 4,6K ↳Summary: In which the reader is Max Verstappen's twin is Lando's friend & he accidentally confesses some things to her while he's drunk. The day after when he apologizes, it leads to something more. ↳content warnings: friends to lovers, reader is Max Verstappen's twin, lando is drunk and accidentally confesses something to the reader, suggestive content, flirting, dirty talk, sexting, sending nudes, phone sex, masturbation (both f! & m!), praise kink, fluff, smut, 18+ (MDNI!), confessing feelings ↳prompts used: 19 - "Do you have any idea how many times I thought about you.. with my hand down my pants"

You sighed deeply, sinking back into the comfort of the guest bed in your older sister's house, the covers wrapping around you like a warm embrace. The room felt different compared to your Monaco apartment, but it was cozy, filled with the nostalgia of growing up with your family as you saw the pictures hanging on the wall. Pictures of your parents, of you and your twin brother Max, of you and Victoria & so on.

You traded your own bed for the guest bedroom at Victoria's house back home in the Netherlands for the week, to spend some time with your sister again to catch up. After a long night of chatting with Vic, you finally decided to call it a day, though sleep was far from your mind.

Just as you were about to close your eyes to at least give sleeping a try, your phone lit up on the nightstand, a soft buzz drawing your attention. You reached over lazily, expecting a random notification, but your heart skipped a beat when you saw the name flashing on the screen: Lando

Your best friend, your partner in crime, and the guy you’d been secretly in love with for longer than you’d care to admit. The guy who made your heart race with a single smile and had you questioning your sanity every time you felt his touch linger just a little too long. Even though you refused to admit it to anyone with a passion. Stating that the way you felt about Lando was nothing more than two flirtatious friends. You knew you were lying to yourself and your facade was starting to crumble. And now he was texting you, at this hour?

Unlocking your phone, you were met with not one, but several messages from him. You squinted at the screen, reading the texts slowly as they loaded, your eyes widening more with each one.

Lando: Y/n… Lando: Fuhk.. why are you sooooo hotttt? 🥵 Lando: Do yhu have any idea howw many tiems I thout about you… with my hnd down my pantss Lando: *1 image attached* You felt your face heat up instantly, a wave of flustered shock washing over you. He send a photo that you had posted on your story on Instagram today, a photo of you in a cute bikini set at the pool at Vic's house.

What the hell? Lando was… Was he really saying what you thought he was saying? Your mind spun, trying to process the drunk, typo-riddled texts. You knew he must have had a few too many drinks tonight; he mentioned going out to a party with the grid earlier. But this?

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, your heart racing as you tried to think of a response. A thousand emotions crashed through you at once—embarrassment, confusion, a thrill of excitement. You could barely breathe.

You: Lan, you're drunk as fuck. Go to sleep 😂

you typed back quickly, hitting send before you could second-guess yourself. You barely had time to process your own message before another one from Lando popped up.

Lando: Drunk on love 🤭

Your heart did a somersault in your chest, and you felt your cheeks burning even hotter. What was he doing? Your pulse thudded loudly in your ears as you stared at the screen, fingers frozen above the keyboard, unsure of what to say. Before you could collect your thoughts, your phone buzzed again, but this time, it was a call.

Max’s name flashed on the screen.

You answered, bringing the phone to your ear. “Max, what the hell—”

“Sorry dat ik zo laat bel,” (sorry for calling at this time) Max's voice was low and slightly slurred with a laugh. “Maar ik zag dat je online was, dus dacht, jij bent nog wakker. Wilde je alleen even een seintje geven dat de kans vrij aannemelijk is dat je vannacht nog dronken appjes krijgt van Lando.” (But I saw that you were online, so I figured you were still awake. Just wanted to give you a heads up that it's very likely that you'll receive some drunk texts from Lando tonight)

You rolled your eyes, stifling a laugh of your own. Of course, your twin brother knew exactly what was happening. “De kerel is echt gewoon laveloos en hield zijn mond maar niet dicht over je. De hele rit terug naar zijn apartment bleef hij maar zeuren over hoe hij je moest appen over iets geheimzinnigs. Dacht ik waarschuw je even.” (The guy is absolutely hammered and he wouldn't shut up about you. Kept yapping about how he had to text you about something secretive. Thought it would be nice to warn you)

“Te laat, is al gebeurd” (too late, he already did) you replied with a chuckle, glancing back at Lando's messages. “Had al zo’n vermoeden dat hij dronken was haha.” (I already figured he was drunk)

“Dacht ik al,” (I thought so) Max chuckled. “Hou het een beetje netjes, ja? Ik wil hier niet meer van weten dan ik al doe.” (Please keep it decent, yeah? I don't want to know any more about this than I already do)

You could almost hear the grin in his voice. “Maar ik moest hem echt thuisbrengen, de jongen was niet meer te houden.” (But I just had to bring him home, couldn't keep him at bay anymore)

“Dank je, Max,” (Thanks, Max) you said softly, biting your lip. “Je bent een goede broer.” (You're a good brother)

“Altijd,” (Always) Max replied. “Ik moet wel weer ophangen nu, voordat ik Kelly en P wakker maak. Succes met je dronken vriendje.” (Gotta hang now tho, before I wake up Kelly and P. Good luck with your boyfriend)

“Max, hoe vaak moet ik nog zeggen dat Lando en ik gewoon vrienden zijn” (Max, how often do I have to tell you that Lando and I are just friends) you said, rolling your eyes.

"Als jij jezelf niet zo voor de gek hield, waren jullie al lang samen" (If you didn't keep lying to yourself, you two would have dated a long time already) and with a last chuckle, he hung up.

You flopped back onto your bed, your mind racing, Lando’s texts still staring at you from the screen. Your fingers shook as you picked up your phone again, reading his words over and over, your stomach flipping with nerves and something else, something hotter, more dangerous.

With a deep breath, you tried to shake it off. Lando was just drunk, you told yourself. He didn’t mean it. It didn’t mean anything… Right? But the way your heart fluttered at the thought of him thinking about you like that, the way your skin prickled with excitement at the idea that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way…

You forced yourself to put the phone down, closing your eyes and trying to ignore the wild thoughts racing through your mind. It was late, and you needed to sleep. But as you drifted off, your dreams were anything but peaceful. Lando's words echoed in your mind, and you found yourself imagining all the things he might have done while thinking about you, the way he might have said your name, the way his hands might have—

You woke up, flustered and breathless, your body tingling in a way that was all too familiar. The morning sun was peeking through the curtains, but all you could think about was Lando, and the way his words made you feel things you’d tried so hard to ignore.

Around the same time, somewhere in Monaco, Lando jolts awake.

"Fuck" the single word comes out as a hiss, his head pounding from the hangover. His phone screen glares back at him, a series of messages and a notification from Max catching his blurry gaze. He squints, his heart starting to race as fragmented memories of the night before come flooding back.

He fumbles to unlock his phone, praying he didn’t do what he thinks he did. But the evidence is right there, the bold lettering of your name above the most mortifying message he could ever have sent, full of typos, but easily desiphered as 'Do you have any idea how many times I thought about you… with my hand down my pants?'

“Shit, shit, shit,” he mutters, running a hand through his messy curls, anxiety flooding his system. What the fuck had he done? His fingers move of their own accord, tapping out a frantic apology.

Lando: Shit, Y/N, I’m so sorry.

You: Good morning to you too. How is your headache? 😉

He cringes at the situation, a mix of playful and mocking. His mind races, grasping at straws to somehow make this situation less embarrassing.

Lando: I don’t even remember sending that. I’m so fucking sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, pretty sure I wasn't thinking at all. I didn’t mean it.

A lie. He did mean it. But he’s not ready to admit that just yet.

You: Oh, you definitely weren’t thinking, lol. But hey, maybe you should apologize to Max too, since you apparently spilled some beans about me to him. 😆

Lando’s eyes widen, horror painting his features. “Oh, fuck,” he groans, rubbing his forehead. He types back, heart racing.

Lando: What did I say? Please tell me I didn’t—

You: Relax, nothing too scandalous. Just enough for Max to find it disgusting.

Despite himself, a small laugh escapes his lips. He can picture Max’s reaction, the exaggerated gagging, the inevitable jokes he’ll have to endure.

Lando: I’m so sorry. Are you mad at me? I don’t want you to think I’m some idiot who can’t control himself.

You: Nah, I’m not mad. You were drunk, it’s not like you meant it anyway, right?

He swallows hard, your words hitting too close to home. A dry response forms on his screen.

Lando: Yeah, sure.

But deep down, he knows it’s not true. He’d thought about you like that more times than he cared to admit, a dangerous longing simmering beneath the surface of your friendship.

You: Hey, at least now I know I looked hot in yesterday’s bikini post.

Heat floods his cheeks. You’re playing it off, but there’s a hint of something in your words, a subtle curiosity. He swallows, fingers hovering over the keyboard before he types back, heart pounding.

Lando: Stating the obvious.

He can’t help the grin tugging at his lips as he imagines your reaction. It’s risky, but you don’t seem upset, and he’s willing to test the waters.

You: Oh? So you think I’m hot?

Lando: Didn’t know that was up for debate.

He’s toeing the line, the thrill of it sending a spark through him.

Lando: U really not mad? I’d hate to make you uncomfortable.

You: Mad? Nah. Flattered, maybe.

He blinks at your response, surprise mingling with a rush of arousal. Flattered? His mind reels, thoughts scrambling as he tries to figure out what to say next.

You: I have to admit tho, when I first got that message, I thought you’d sent something different than my own instagram post…🤭

His breath catches, heart skipping a beat. The implication is clear, and he feels himself growing hard at the mere thought of you expecting a more explicit photo from him. He shifts uncomfortably, typing out a teasing response.

Lando: So, you’re saying you opened it anyway, even though you thought I sent you a spicy picture? 😉

You: Shut up.

He laughs, imagining the flustered look on your face. It’s too easy to picture, and he leans back against his pillows, biting his lip.

Lando: Where are you?

You: In bed. Why?

Lando's breath got caught in his throat. A dangerous idea takes root in his mind, one that’s equally thrilling and terrifying. He knows he should stop, should draw the line before it goes too far. But something in your responses, the playful edge, the hint of curiosity, makes him want to push further.

Lando: Just curious. 😉

His mind races, and before he can second-guess himself, he snaps a quick photo. It’s not much,—just him lying back on his bed, shirt unbuttoned halfway, his abs on display and his hair a mess. He was still wearing the same outfit as yesterday, apparently not changed out of it. But there’s something undeniably suggestive in the way he looks at the camera, the flush on his cheeks, a knowing smile on his lips as he sends it with a caption.

Lando: I can send you one for real if you want to see one.

His heart hammers in his chest as he waits for your response, the seconds dragging by agonizingly slowly. Then your reply comes in, teasing and playful.

You: Kinda daring coming from the guy who was apologizing 10 minutes ago for accidentally sending his best friend a text about thinking about her with his hand down his pants😉

Your words send a thrill through him, the boldness of it, the way you’re not backing down. He can’t resist pushing a little further, fingers trembling with anticipation.

Lando: You didn’t seem too disgusted by it.

The moment stretches out, his breath catching as he waits for your reply. The tightness in his dress pants becoming significantly worde.

When it comes, it’s more than he expected.

You: I wasn’t. Actually, it was kinda hot.🫣

His eyes widen, arousal spiking as he reads your words again and again, disbelieving. Is this really happening?

Lando: Yeah?

You: Yeah.

He swallows hard, a wicked idea forming in his mind. He glances down at the growing bulge in his pants, his arousal straining against the fabric. His hand moves almost on its own, snapping a quick picture of his hand palming himself through his dress pants, the outline of his erection unmistakable.

Lando: What about this? Still hot?

Your response is almost immediate.

You: Fuck, yes.

The words send a shiver down his spine, desire flaring as he imagines your reaction, the way you must be looking at your phone. He wants more, needs more.

Lando: Your turn.

There’s a pause, then a photo comes through. His breath hitches at the sight of you, flushed and flustered, the soft curve of your cleavage visible just above the red lace of your bra. It wasn't too naughty, but enough to send Lando reeling.

He groans, his hand moving down to rub himself through his pants, a low moan escaping him as he imagines what’s beneath that thin fabric.

Lando: Fuck, babe, you’re killing me.

You: Good.

The playfulness in your response only fuels his desire, and he knows he should stop, should take a breath before this spirals out of control. But he doesn’t want to. Instead, he hits record on his camera, aiming it down at his crotch as he begins to palm himself through the fabric.

The video is short, just a few seconds of him rubbing himself, a low groan slipping from his lips. He ends it with a whispered “fuck,” his hand slipping beneath the waistband of his pants to give himself a teasing stroke before the video cuts off.

He sends it without thinking, heart racing as he imagines you watching it, the way your breath might hitch, the way you might bite your lip.

You: You’re really enjoying that, huh?

His breath hitched at your words, every sensation heightened as he slowly works himself up and down inside his dress pants, unable to contain the soft groans leaving his lips.

Lando: I do. Feels amazing... I wish you were here with me.

His hand is shaking now as he types out his next message, his arousal growing with every word.

Lando: Show me more.

There’s a beat of silence, and then another picture comes through. This one is more daring, more revealing. You’re under the blankets, one leg exposed, the other hidden beneath the covers. The waistband of your red panties is just visible above the edge of your blanket, your hand resting suggestively on your lower stomach, fingers reaching just into your panties.

Lando: Fuck, babe, that's so hot

Lando's breath catches as he stares at the photo you sent, his mind racing with all the things he wants to say, all the things he wants to do. He decided to take the leap and press the button to send you a facetime request. You accept it almost immediately, his heart pounding as your face fills the screen. You look flustered, lips slightly parted, and he swallows hard.

“Hi,” you say, your voice breathless, almost shy.

“You’re really fucking beautiful, you know that?” Lando murmurs, his voice thick with desire as he admired your flushed face.

You blush, your eyes darting away from the screen for a moment before you look back at him. “I think you’re the one who’s supposed to be embarrassed right now, not me.”

He grins, the playful tone of your voice sending another jolt of arousal through him. “Oh, trust me, I’m plenty embarrassed. But I’m also…” He hesitates, his gaze dropping down for a moment before he meets your eyes again, his voice dropping to a lower, huskier tone. “... really turned on.”

Your breath catches, and he watches as you shift on the bed, the movement causing the camera to reveal a little bit more of your cleavage and the red lace bra you were wearing. His eyes are drawn to the exposed skin, mesmerized by your body.

“What are you wearing?” The question slips out before he can stop it, his eyes dark with desire.

You glance down at yourself, then back at him, a mischievous smile tugging at your lips. “Not much.”

He groans, his hand tightening around his phone. As he speaks, his other hand drifts back down, brushing over the ever-growing bulge in his pants again. “Can I see?” The words are thick with anticipation, his voice trembling slightly as he palms himself, the sensation sending a wave of pleasure through him. He bites his lip, letting out a quiet moan that he can’t quite suppress.

You hesitate, your teeth worrying your bottom lip as you consider his request. Then, slowly, you change your camera angle and pull the blanket down just a little, revealing the soft skin of your stomach, the red lace of your panties, the soft curve of your thigh. Lando feels a jolt of arousal shooting through him, and he has to bite back a groan. It’s just enough to tease, to make him want more.

“Fuck, Y/N…” His voice is rough, strained, as he shifts on the bed, the fabric of his pants suddenly feeling too tight, too restrictive. His hand presses harder against his length, his breath hitching as the friction sends sparks of pleasure shooting through him.

You giggle, your eyes sparkling with a mix of nervousness and excitement. “You like what you see?”

“Like?” He shakes his head, his eyes glued to the screen. “I fucking love it.”

Your cheeks flush a deeper red, and you lean back a little, giving him an even better view of your body. His mouth goes dry as he takes in the sight of you, the way the red lace clings to your skin, the hint of cleavage peeking out from beneath your bra. He can see the way your chest rises and falls with each breath, the anticipation, the arousal clear in your eyes.

“Your turn,” you murmur, your voice barely more than a whisper, but it’s enough to send his heart racing.

He doesn’t need to be told twice. With one hand still holding his phone, he shifts back on the bed, his other hand moving to the waistband of his pants. His fingers fumble with the button, his hands shaking slightly as he pops it open, his eyes never leaving your face.

Your breath hitches as he unzips his pants, his erection straining against the fabric of his boxers. He pauses for a moment, his eyes flicking up to yours, seeking permission. When you nod, he slides his hand into his boxers, his breath coming out in a shaky exhale as he wraps his fingers around his length.

“Fuck…” The word slips out as he strokes himself slowly, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before he forces them open again, needing to see your reaction. His voice trembles, laced with a mix of desire and restraint, each moan escaping his lips growing louder as he quickens his pace.

Your eyes are wide, your lips slightly parted as you watch him, your hand moving down towards your panties on their own accord, fingers brushing lightly over the fabric “Fuck, that's hot, Lando…”

He groans at the sound of his name on your lips, his boxers now pushed low enough to reveal his cock, hand moving faster, the friction sending sparks of pleasure shooting through him. “Touch yourself for me,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. “Please.”

You bite your lip, waiting just a moment before you slip your hand beneath the waistband of your panties, a soft gasp escaping you as your fingers make contact. The sight of you, the way your body arches slightly, the soft, breathless sounds you make, is almost too much for him.

“Fuck, babe, you’re so fucking hot…” His voice is barely more than a growl as he watches you, his own hand moving faster, the pleasure building inside him, threatening to spill over.

“What would you do to me if I was right there?” you ask, your voice a breathless whisper.

His eyes darken, his grip tightening around himself. “I’d start by kissing you, slowly… working my way down your body.” His voice is rough, each word laced with longing. “I’d touch you everywhere, make you feel so good. Then I’d…” his words getting cut off by his own moan.

“Tell me,” you encourage, your own voice trembling with need.

“I’d bury my face between your legs, make you scream my name,” he groans, his strokes becoming more erratic as he imagines it, his mind filled with nothing but thoughts of you. “F-Fuck, I want you so bad.”

You moan at his words, your fingers moving faster as you picture it, your body aching for his touch. “Lando, I…”

“Keep going,” he whispers, his voice thick with desire. “Tell me what you’d do to me.”

“I’d touch you,” you breathe, your voice trembling as your fingers move in sync with his. “I’d wrap my fingers around you, just like you’re doing now… make you feel so good, Lan”

He whimpers at your words, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he imagines it, the sensation of your touch almost too real. “Fuck, Y/N, I need you…”

“Imagine it’s my hand, Lan” you whisper, your voice laced with seduction. “Imagine I’m right there with you…”

His moans grow louder, his hips bucking into his hand as he follows your words, his mind filled with nothing but thoughts of you. “I’m so close…”

“Me too,” you whisper, your breath hitching as you feel the pleasure building, your body trembling with anticipation.

“God, you’re amazing,” he pants, his voice filled with praise as he watches you, every movement driving him closer to the edge. “You’re so perfect… I want you so bad…”

Your voice is a breathless moan as you reach the brink, your body arching off the bed as the pleasure consumes you "F-Fuck, Lan, I'm coming"

“Fuck, baby, I’m right there with you…” His voice is ragged, his body tensing as he teeters on the edge, every muscle tightening in anticipation. You watch, breathless, as his hand moves faster, more desperately, his grip tightening around his length.

Then, with a strangled moan, he tips over the edge. His hips jerk, and his head falls back against the pillows as he cums, thick ropes of it spilling out and covering his abdomen. You can see the way his abs contract with each pulse, his hand still working himself through every last wave of pleasure, milking himself until he’s spent. His eyes remain locked on yours, his breathing heavy, a mixture of satisfaction and lingering desire in his gaze as you both ride the waves of your shared climax.

For a few moments, the only sound is your ragged breathing, both of you staring at each other through the screen, the intensity of what just happened hanging heavy in the air.

“Fuck…” He laughs breathlessly, his head falling back against the pillows as he runs a hand through his hair. “That was…”

“Amazing,” you finish for him, your own laughter bubbling up, your cheeks still flushed, your body still trembling slightly from the aftershocks. “Holy shit, Lando…”

“Yeah.” He grins, his heart still racing as he looks at you, the reality of what you just did slowly sinking in. “Are you… okay?”

You nod, your smile softening as you look at him. “Yeah, I’m okay. More than okay.”

His heart swells at your words, relief flooding through him. He’s about to say something else when you shift on the bed, the blanket slipping down a little further, giving him a glimpse of your bare shoulder.

“Lando,” you murmur, your eyes meeting his through the screen, a mischievous glint in your gaze. “If that was just a taste, I can’t wait to see what happens when we’re see each other again.”

The promise in your words sends a shiver down his spine, his mind racing at the thought of having you, really having you, right in front of him.

“Fuck, Y/N, you have no idea what you’re doing to me…” His voice is a low whisper, his eyes still dark with desire.

“Maybe I have an idea,” you tease, your smile widening as you settle back against the pillows, your gaze never leaving his. “When I fly back to Monaco in a few days, maybe you should pick me up from the airport... and then we can do this again, but then in real life”

His heart skips a beat at your words, excitement and anticipation flooding through him. “You mean that?”

You nod, your smile softening, your eyes filled with a tenderness that makes his chest ache. “Yeah, I mean that. I want you, Lando. All of you.”

His breath catches, the sincerity in your voice, the way you’re looking at him, making his heart race. He knows, in that moment, that this isn’t just about sex, about fulfilling a desire that’s been simmering beneath the surface for years. It’s about more, so much more.

“Y/N… there’s something else I need to tell you,” he says, his voice steady but laced with emotion.

Your gaze softens, sensing the seriousness in his tone. “What is it, Lando?”

He hesitates for just a moment, gathering his thoughts before he continues. “I’ve been in love with you for so long. It’s not just about my text last night or about what we just did. I've been feeling like this for a while. It’s everything. Every time we’ve laughed together, every time you’ve supported me, every time I’ve seen you smile... I’ve been falling for you more and more.”

You feel your heart swell at his words, a warmth spreading through your chest. Finally ready to admit it out loud. “Lando... I’ve felt the same way. I’ve just been too scared to admit it.”

He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, relief washing over him. “You have no idea how happy that makes me. I’ve wanted to say something for so long, but I was afraid I’d ruin what we have.”

“You haven’t ruined anything,” you say softly. “If anything, you’ve made it better.”

A wide smile spreads across his face, his eyes shining with emotion. “I’ve never been so thankful for getting drunk.”

You laugh, the sound light and filled with joy. “Me neither, Lando. Me neither.”

There’s a moment of comfortable silence, both of you just taking in the reality of what’s been confessed.

“So… when I fly back to Monaco in a few days, maybe we could start something real?” you suggest, your voice hopeful.

“I’d like that,” he replies, his heart swelling with happiness. “I’d like that a lot.”

“Then it’s a plan,” you say, a smile tugging at your lips.

"God, I wish I could kiss you now" he whispered, a small hint of disappointment in his voice.

And with that, you both know that this is just the beginning of something truly special, something that’s been waiting to happen for far too long.

Sequel

Masterlist

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lanadelnegan · 1 year ago

Text

My Girl

S7!Negan x Reader

Requested from anon: hey! loving the blog and every story you post! i was wondering if you’d do a story of a reader’s first time being with S7 Negan who is an asshole at first but then goes soft because he accidentally made her cry??

OOOH I'm gonna have some FUN with this one. And thank you so much <3.

Summary: Rick's oldest daughter, y/n, loses her virginity to Negan.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, virgin first time, vaginal sex, daddy-kink, age-gap (reader is 18, negan is 40), Rick walks in on Negan eating you out.. (twice), degrading language, mushy romantic Negan, Negan fucks you in nothing but his leather jacket

A/N: This is my favorite fic I have written by far and I hope you love it as much as I do cuz I am obsessed.

"Carl, take your sisters upstairs and don't come down until I say it's safe." I lift Judith out of her high chair and follow Carl up the stairs.

Our dad has always treated us like Carl's the older one, even though he's two years younger than me, but I don't mind. If anything, it takes some of the pressure off of being big sis all the time.

I hear Negan's voice booming in the distance as my dad opens the door to head back outside. This has become part of our weekly routine at this point. Negan and his men went from monthly visits to weekly visits over the past couple months, but I don't mind that either.

The more I get to see him, the merrier.

I move the bedroom curtains slightly, peeking through my window until my eyes find Negan standing in the street in front of our house. I'm able to make out what they're saying if I listen closely enough.

"Rickyyy, I missed ya. Where's that sweet daughter of yours hiding? .....The older one of course." I can't stop the grin that appears on my face when he asks about me.

"This isn't about her. Get what you need, and leave." My dad stands firmly planted with his hands on his hips and my eyes roll at his attitude. Maybe if my dad would just be civil with Negan all of this could stop. I revert my gaze back to Negan.

"Now, Prick, you know I can't leave without seeing my girl."

His girl... The butterflies in my stomach flutter at the sound of that.

"Why are you so obsessed with him?" Carl asks rudely from across the room while holding Judith and bouncing her so she doesn't cry.

I quickly glare at Carl before turning my gaze back towards the window. When I look back down, Negan is looking up at me, a knowing smirk playing at his lips. I can't look away, and he lets his gaze linger a little too long as well, prompting my dad to look at my window. I quickly drop the curtain and back away.

"Take Judith to her room and put her down for her nap." I instruct Carl. He stares at me suspiciously. "Go! What did I just say?" I snap impatiently. He shakes his head but ultimately leaves.

"You're always so weird when he comes around." He says under his breath. I close my door behind them and go back to the window, peeking again, but this time everyone's gone. I rush to go see what's going on, but as soon as I swing my door open and run out, I crash into a tall, solid figure. My eyes widen as I look up at the man in the leather jacket.

"Hey, doll. Miss me?"

"Uh - I - where's my dad?" I stutter nervously, peaking around him.

"Busy getting supplies for me. He'll be busy for the next hour, so I thought I'd come keep you company."

Negan's been visiting Alexandria for months now, and each time he comes, our talks get longer and flirtier. Well, he flirts with me and I pretend to be annoyed, mostly so others don't think I like him. If they only knew how much I think about his beard between my legs.

There's something about him that intrigues me.. fascinates me even. I'm ashamed to admit I've even touched myself a couple times - okay, a lot of times - to the thought of him.

When I don't respond, he backs us into my bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

He slides his shoes and jacket off, sitting on my bed and leaning back with his feet propped up. I blush at the sight of him in my bed and restrain myself from ripping my clothes off here and now. A chill runs through my body, making me noticeably shake but I try to play it off. He probably things I'm scared, when in reality I just want him.

"Relax, I'd never hurt you darlin'. Unless you want me to." He winks as he leans back against the headboard getting more comfortable.

"I know." And I do... for some reason, I know he wouldn't hurt me.

He bites his bottom lip playfully and raises his eyebrows while patting the bed next to him.

I nervously walk over and sit down before leaning back, mimicking his position. My bed is a twin, so it doesn't allow much room to ourselves. My shoulder is pressed against his and the simple act has my body on fire already. I glance over and let my eyes roam up his white t-shirt to his handsome face. He watches me with amusement while his leg presses against mine teasingly.

"Sweetheart, I've been around the block long enough to know when a girl wants my dick. And I can practically hear that pussy fucking purring every time I come near you." He grins at me like he knows all my secrets.

My face burns with embarrassment at his words.

"I bet I could make you blush even harder than that, doll." His grin stretches wider but I stay silent, letting him do the talking.

"Of course.. I wouldn't do anything you're not comfortable wi-"

Before he can finish, I press my lips to his hard and climb on top of him. His mouth parts, letting my tongue in and his subtle moan makes my pussy flutter. He tastes like whiskey and smells like leather and I feel high off the taste of him as we kiss passionately. I grind my hips desperately into him and feel his bulge grow underneath me.

"Negan... I need you."

"I know baby." He breathes out.

My hands fumble with his belt and pants until I get them undone. He watches me as I pull out his cock and my pussy is already sore from just looking at it. No way it's gonna fit.

"How do you want it, baby? You gonna be a big girl and ride daddy?" His hands squeeze my ass underneath my dress and he practically growls when he realizes I'm not wearing panties.

"It's like you knew I was coming. Such a bad little girl." His fingers tease my opening and I'm embarrassed that I'm already pathetically soaked for him.

"All for me?" He slides a finger through my slit and brings it up to his mouth for a taste. "So fucking sweet."

I slide myself against his cock that's now slippery with my wetness and wonder how I'm gonna fit that thing inside me.

The big dick energy definitely checks out.

I hover above him naively, thinking I can actually take him. The tip just barely pushes through my opening and I moan at the sudden pressure. His hands grip my ass, guiding me down over him.

"Come on baby, that's it." He praises me as I keep sliding down. I stop when I can't take anymore, realizing I have at least four more inches to go.

"Oh, I know my little slut can take more than that."

I shake my head. "Negan, I don't think I -"

"You can, and you will, doll. I didn't come all the way here for you to only take half of my dick."

Tears fill my eyes as I try to sit all the way on him, wanting to make him proud. I make it another inch before the pain is too much. Not only with how deep he is, but he's so wide I think he may actually be ripping me apart.

"Deeper, y/n." He demands.

When I try again and fail, I quickly climb off of him frustrated. "I can't Negan, I'm trying!" He sits up in the bed, his feet on the floor now.

"Bend over."

"W-what?"

"Do not make me ask again." His jaw clenches as he stares at me seriously.

I lay myself over him, my ass facing upwards on his lap.

"You're going to take all of me, baby. If my wives at home can take me, I expect nothing less from you."

He doesn't even give me a warning before bringing his hand down painfully on my ass making me yelp. He chuckles darkly before smacking me again. He rubs the sensitive spot before teasing both of my holes.. One with his thumb and the other with his middle finger.

"What would daddy say if he could see you right now? Bent over my fucking lap and dripping for me like a little whore..." He pushes his thumb and finger deep inside each of my openings and I bite my lip hard at the pain.

I know he's trying to be all dominant right now.. I'm not oblivious to how rough sex works, but my eyes still sting with tears at his crude words. I shouldn't have built my hopes up that Negan could actually care and be gentle with me.

I sniffle as the tears fall, trying to wipe the snot dripping from my nose.

He quickly pulls me up and his eyes are filled with concern.

"Baby? Hey, look at me." He cups my face gently as I sit on the bed next to him.

"I - I liked you." I choke out. "I was the only one here who actually cared about you and saw you as a person.. and you.. you just see me as a stupid object you can shove your dick in.... You just ruined my first experience with a man. I hope you're happy." I sob while looks like someone just punched him in the gut.

"Fuck, sweetheart." He presses his forehead to mine, looking down with regret. "I didn't know you were all mushy about me and shit.. Truth is?" He tilts my chin to look at him. "I was being so harsh with you cause I didn't want to admit my own feelings. I didn't think you'd ever want an asshole like me, so I didn't want to go catching feelings for someone who didn't want me back. But baby? I can't get you outta my fucking head... Why do you think I started visiting every week?"

My teary eyes look up at him and he looks genuine. I want to trust him so badly, but my heart and head are saying two different things.

"Fuck, y/n. I know you don't believe me. Let me prove it to you. What can I do? Just say the fucking word."

"Stop taking our stuff... Leave our people alone..."

He chuckles lightly, shaking his head like he can't believe what he's about to agree to. "Does that include you?"

I try to hide my grin as I wipe my tears with the back of my hand. "....No."

"Then it's a deal, baby."

"That's it? Just like that?" I look at him confused.

He shrugs. "Guess you've got me wrapped around your finger already, darlin...And now that I know you've never been with a man, I'm taking my fucking time with you." He lays me down on the bed while kissing and climbing over me.

"What about my dad? He'll be back soon."

"Simon's keeping watch, doll."

His lips travel to my neck. "....What about your other wives? You're just gonna fuck me and go back to them?"

He laughs against my neck. "Sweetheart.. I kicked every one of them to the curb the day I layed eyes on you."

My mouth drops open but he cuts me off by pulling my dress down over my chest and taking a nipple into his mouth. I moan and arch myself into him. After a few moments of sucking each one, he slides down further, lifting my dress to my waist and settling his head between my legs. I watch him in awe as he takes his time, kissing my inner thighs.

"Has anyone ever eaten you, baby?"

I shake my head no as I lean up on my elbows to watch him.

"Good." He spreads my pussy lips apart with his fingers and I blush at him staring at it. "Such a pretty pussy. Fuck." He says before locking eyes with me and pressing a kiss to my clit gently. I moan from the contact and arch myself into him, silently begging for more.

He dips his tongue in me and curls it up, gathering my juices. His eyes roll to the back of his head and he groans and licks all the way up to my clit before sucking on it softly. My mouth drops open and my hips try to jerk away, being overwhelmed by sensitivity.

He smiles against me. "Not going anywhere until you cum all over my face, doll." He wraps his arms up around my thighs, pressing my stomach down with his hands.

My breathing matches the speed of his licking and sucking and I feel the pressure building up inside me.

"Fuck, Negan!" My eyes are clenched shut but snap open when my door suddenly flies open.

"Shit! Dad!" I reach to throw my blanket over me, but defeatedly realize it's on the floor. My eyes widen in horror at my father standing in the doorway, looking like he just saw a ghost. A ghost that's eating his daughter's pussy. I'm unable to close my legs because Negan is still holding me down with his hands.

"God fucking dammit, Rick. We were just ge-"

"Negan!" I cut him off, my cheeks turning bright red with embarrassment.

He kisses my pussy one more time and my eyes widen, not believing he just did that in front of my father. He finally leans up, wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb and smirking at my dad like he's proud of himself.

I quickly get up and fix my dress.

"Dad, look, I -" I look up, stopping at the sight of Carl pointing a gun directly at Negan's head.

Negan tucks himself back into his jeans, buckling his belt and ignoring Carl.

"Carl.." I slowly step in front of Negan. "Put the gun down."

"You - you wanted this? Him?" My dad asks horrified. "He's done horrible things, y/n."

"And you haven't?!" I yell at my dad. "I watched you rip a man's neck open with your goddamn teeth. If he's a monster.. then so are you."

Negan steps beside me and laces his fingers through mine before kissing the side of my head.

"I love him, dad." I look up at Negan and elbow him roughly when I see a teasing smirk on his face.

"And you think he loves you? You can't be that stupid." My dad says, putting emphasis on the last word.

Negan chuckles and finally cuts in. "First of all, Dick, do not call my woman stupid. Secondly.." His faces grows serious. "We won't be taking anymore of your things. No more visits. Other than me paying this one a visit of course." Negan winks and puts his his arm around me protectively. "That is.. until she moves in with me." Our eyes all widen at the same time.

"You want me to live with you?" I turn to Negan.

"I mean, you did just confess your love for me, doll. Soo, yeah, that's the plan." He kisses my forehead.

"Y/n, we'll talk about this later. Negan, you need to leave. Now." My dad demands, his jaw ticking with anger.

Negan glares at my dad for a moment before turning to me, lifting my chin to kiss him slowly and passionately. Before he lets go, he whispers in my ear. "Meet me right outside the walls when it gets dark. I am nowhere near done with you, baby."

My heart flutters at the thought of us sneaking out together.

Negan walks towards the door before leaning close to my dad's ear. "I get to be her first, Rick. How fucking sweet is that." I struggle to make out his words but don't miss the chuckle at the end. He pats Carl's shoulder on his way out. "See ya 'round, bro."

"Love you, sweetheart!" He calls out to me as my dad and brother follow behind him, making sure he leaves.

I shut my door and smile giddily, running to the window and peeking out. Negan is already looking up at the window when I look at him. He smirks and winks at me before heading off to the gates.

A few hours later:

The sun just went down and my palms are starting to sweat as I pace back and forth on the outskirts of the gates. A million thoughts race through my head.

What if he doesn't come..

What if it's a trap..

What if he lied about everything he said..

Oh my god.. He's gonna kidnap and torture me..

Shut up. He wouldn't do that.

This is a bad idea. What am I doing.

Just as I turn to run back inside the walls, I see him appear from the shadows, wearing his signature leather jacket with a black t-shirt underneath.

"Were you about to ditch me, y/n?" He asks playfully as he pulls my wrist towards him and crashes his lips into mine. When the kiss deepens, he bends a little, pulling me up by the back of my thighs and wrapping my legs around his waist. We make out like horny teenagers while my fingers run through his slick black hair.

"You ready to officially be mine, doll?"

I nod without hesitation. "Yes. I'm already yours, Negan. I don't care what anyone thinks about us."

He kisses me again, setting me back down on the ground. "Lead the way, baby." He nods towards the side gates.

"You want to go back to my house? What if someone sees you?!"

"Kinda hope they do.. I like the thought of everyone knowing who you belong to." He smirks and it makes me knees weak.

"Okay.. come on." I pull his hand as I guide him back to my house. We sneak through the back sliding doors as carefully as possible before tiptoeing up the stairs.

He lightly smacks my ass as we're going up and I turn to shush him, tripping over my own feet in the process. He catches me before I make a loud thud on the stairs and his body is leaned over mine as we try not to laugh.

My body shakes as I laugh silently and bring my hand over my mouth quickly to stop any sound that comes out. His eyebrows raise at me with warning as if I better not make a noise.

"Okay, okay. Shushhh." I whisper before beginning our climb up the stairs again. My dad's room is at the end of the hall and mine is adjacent next to his. We try not to let the floors creak as we get closer to my room. We slip inside and I ease the door shut gently. When it finally clicks shut. I let go of a deep breath and look up at Negan. As soon as our eyes lock, we laugh like idiots, but quiet idiots.

He walks towards me. "Goddamn it, I fucking love you." He says as he lifts me back into his arms kissing me.

"You know.. earlier outside.." I breathe out between our kisses. "I thought.. that maybe you were gonna kidnap and torture me."

He smiles against my mouth as our lips lazily fight each other. "...What if I am?"

I stop kissing him to look at him. When I do, his look turns serious and it scares me for a moment. "I fully plan on making you mine and torturing you with this dick forever, doll."

I grin and roll my eyes as he continues holding me in his arms. "I guess there are worse ways to get tortured."

"Wait until I'm all the way inside you." His eyebrows raise teasingly.

I press my forehead to his and bring my hands to cup his face, kissing him again. I can't take my lips off of him. "Well what are you waiting for?"

That's all he needs to hear before he's walking me towards the bed and laying me down gently. He stands back up, removing his jacket and shirt.

I watch him closely, admiring the flex of his biceps when he moves. "Put the jacket back on. No shirt."

He laughs until he sees that I'm serious.

"Yes ma'am." He says with his little country accent. It's not always noticeable, but when it is.. it's so fucking adorable.

Once he's back in the jacket and bare chested, he stops for a moment before removing his pants. "Can I take these off, at least?"

"No, I want to."

He grin stretches as he walks towards the bed, keeping his hands by his sides. "All yours, baby."

I sit up in the bed in front of him and undo his button and zipper. I shuffle his pants down just a little before pulling his hardening cock out of his boxers. It turns to a steel rod in my hand and I don't care that I'm full on staring at it, assessing each vein and how it turns an ombre shade of pink towards the tip.

"I hope you like what you see, baby. Cause it's the only dick you're gonna be seeing for the rest of your life."

"I'm perfectly happy with that." I look up at him before kissing the tip of him, just like he did to my clit earlier. He watches me proudly, letting his fingers run through my hair lovingly.

I lick my lips before struggling to fit my mouth around him. He chuckles down at me.

“If you can’t fit me in that cunt, what makes you think you can take it down your throat, baby?”

I grin around him and I slide my mouth deeper and deeper. Surprisingly I don’t gag and I think it surprises him too.

Guess I don’t have a gag reflex. That’s good to know.

“Holyyy shit, doll. Look. At. You.” His voice is so deep it vibrates to my pussy. The tip hits the very back on my throat and even further until my eyes water.

I try to jerk my head back, but Negan pushes my head down on him again, my nose pressed into his pubic hair. He waits a few seconds until I feel like I’m going to pass out from lack of oxygen before pulling my head back. I gasp for air and he pulls me all the way off of him while kicking his pants and boxers off.

"Trying to make me blow my load before we even get to the good part, darlin'? He climbs over me in the bed, kissing me softly.

My hands slip underneath his jacket and rub his back, scratching at it gently.

"I am gonna make you feel So fucking good." He says before kissing my neck. "You want me to be gentle with you baby?" His voice right in my ear makes me shiver.

I nod and he hovers his face above mine so we’re staring into each other eyes.

“You ready, baby?” He whispers and I nod again.

He leans up on his knees between me and lines himself up with my entrance before pushing the tip through. “Tell me if you need me to stop.”

He slowly slides in me further and further as he holds my legs open.

“Goddamn this pussy is so fucking Tight.” He pulls back a little before pushing in deeper and my mouth gapes open slightly.

He chuckles and stares down at me through heavy eyelids. "I'm not even halfway yet, sweetheart. You want more?"

I nod desperately as my eyes fill with tears at the overwhelming sensation of him so deep inside me.

"Take it then, doll. Grind on me and make yourself feel good." He stops moving completely while still on his knees between my legs.

My cheeks blush at his request and he smirks down at me, sliding his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, refusing to move or touch me.

I lean up on my elbows while he's still inside me and push my body further into him, taking every inch I possibly can. I grind myself against him until I find just the right spot for the tip of his cock to press into and drop my head back at how good it feels, not caring about the desperate sounds I let out.

"Oh my god, Negan.. fuck." My face reddens at the intense pleasure as I continue using his cock to pleasure myself.

"Fuck, baby. Now THIS? Is a Fucking sight.. Watching you get off on my cock like a desperate little whore."

"Touch me, Negan. Please."

"Please what?"

"Please Negan."

He removes his hands from his jacket to lean over me, holding himself above me with one hand on the bed while bringing the other to lightly grip my throat.

His dark hazel eyes dart back and forth between mine as he squeezes his fingers gently around my neck. My face reddens even more at the sudden loss of air.

"Try again, doll."

"Please... daddy." I choke out and he quickly releases my throat.

"Good girl." He kisses my lips softly before thrusting his hips hard, completely filling me until his balls are flush against me.

I scream out and his hand immediately covers my mouth while his head dips to the side of mine and his deep voice fills my ear once again.

"Sshhh, baby. I know. I know." He pulls out almost completely before sliding in again, this time softer but just as deep.

My eyes fill with tears at the pain but I don't want him to stop. My fingers grip the bottom of his jacket as he continues fucking me hard and at a steady pace. The headboard begins to lightly bump the wall above me and my eyes widen with panic.

"Negan, the bed. My dad's room is right on the other side."

He chuckles lightly in my ear but doesn't speak. Instead, he pounds into me even harder and faster with his head is buried into my neck.

"Negan!" I whisper yell at him but it feels too good to make him stop. The closer my orgasm gets, the less I care about my dad hearing us.

After a few more thrusts, he slows down and suddenly flips us over with his dick still inside me until I'm laying over him.

"Negan, my dad's gonna come in here! We have to be quie-"

Before I finish, he lifts his knees up and rams his cock into me hard. It feels even deeper from this angle and hits a spot that makes me see stars.

"Come here, baby." He maneuvers me until my arms are wrapped around him and my head is nestled into his neck. He smells like musky cologne and sweat and I can't help but lick him. Our mouths are next to each others ears, breathing and moaning heavily as he begins to thrust up into me faster than ever. The headboard slams into the wall with force but I don't even care.

This feeling is unlike anything I've ever felt or knew was possible, so the last thing I'm gonna do is tell him to stop.

"Negan.." I cry out. "Faster."

He obeys and wraps his arms around me tighter, fucking me at an animalistic pace. I cum so hard and fast I don't even have time to announce it. My pussy clenches and I feel myself suddenly leak around him, soaking his dick and probably even the bed below us.

"Goddamn. That's my good fucking girl... You gonna let daddy cum in this pussy, baby?"

"Yes! Please." I whine.

He growls in my ear and holds himself deep and still inside me as his dick pulses over and over.

I try to slide off of him when he's finished, but he holds me tight, not letting me leave.

"Negan, you need to leave before my dad-"

"He's not here, sweetheart."

"What?!" I snap my eyes to his.

"Relax, baby. He's fine. But I did warn him that if he didn't want to hear his baby girl screaming "daddy" all night.. then he should take your siblings and go stay the night with Daryl." He grins up at me and my brows come together with confusion.

"Wait you.. you told him about our plan?"

"Of course baby. Had to be respectful and ask for your old man's blessing."

"And.. and he gave it to you?!"

Negan laughs and reaches up to tuck my hair behind my ear. "Absolutely not. But respectfully, I told him he didn't have a choice."

The next morning:

My vagina is screaming at me for allowing it to be destroyed last night. I can't count on one hand how many times Negan made me cum. I open my eyes to the sun shining through my window and immediately notice Negan is gone. I shoot up and look around, seeing that his clothes are also gone.

What if he just.. got what he wanted and left..

I throw the covers off of me and get up, grabbing my sundress of the floor and throwing it on before making my way through the house.

"Carl?!.... Dad?!" I yell as I descend quickly down the stairs. I stop at the bottom to find Negan stirring a pot of something on the stove.

"There she is! Mornin' sunshine." I walk over to Negan to see what he's cooking and he holds a spoon up to my mouth, letting me taste the deliciousness. This man can fuck and cook... what a god.

"Was wonderin when you were gonna wake the hell up. It's already lunch time, baby." He presses his lips to mine and I notice his freshly shaven face. I've never seen him like his and he looks so incredibly handsome.

He lifts me up and sets me on the kitchen counter while standing between my legs.

"Mmm, promise me you'll wear little sundresses with no panties underneath for the rest of our lives, doll." He says as he kisses me sweetly. I giggle and wrap my arms around him, kissing his neck.

"You hungry baby?" He asks and I nod sleepily.

"Me too." He slowly gets down on his knees in front of me, draping my legs over his shoulders.

He softly licks me with his tongue, moaning from the taste before burying his face further into me until I feel his tongue push past my hole. His shaven face feels soft and much more gentle than his beard.

My fingers run through his black hair, tugging on it gently as my head falls back.

"Mmm, daddy." I moan and my eyes snap open, hearing movement at the front door. I quickly jerk Negan up while pulling my dress down and sliding off the counter, seeing my dad, Carl, and Daryl standing in the doorway. Carl quickly covers Judith's eyes while he holds her and Negan sighs annoyedly at the sight of them.

"God..DAMN it, Rick. Again? You gotta learn to fucking knock."

"It's my house." My dad's expression is unreadable as he stands there, eyeing Negan. "You said one night. You can be on your way now."

"Well now don't be fucking rude, Prick. Have a seat." He grins widely at my dad before gesturing to the table. "I made spaghetti."

The End.

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not-neverland06 · 1 month ago

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Hii ! I was hoping you could do Logan x Reader where all the teachers go to a club, and the Reader starts dancing with Storm and Jean while Logan is sitting on a couch, looking at her. They both have a crush on each other, but they don't know it, so when the Reader notices Logan staring at her, she gets shy and decides to go get a drink. When she got her drink, a guy starts flirting with her, and Logan obviously sees it. he gets jealous and walks up to the guy telling him to leave her alone. After they talk for a bit, the Reader accidentally confesses and Logan kisses her. this ends up in a private room with Logan fucking her as he always wanted. I know this is a long request and I'm sorry for that, bue I'm a writer myself, so I already had develop this bit of the story in my head. I completely understand if you don't want to do it. Hope you have an awesome day !!🤗❤️ Love your writing btw

a/n: I loved this prompt so much, did switch it up a bit bc I faced a bit of writer's block trying to flesh this out!! (and if I said I was listening to Thong Song while writing this, what then?)

18+ MDNI (fucking in a club bathroom, if that's not your thing, move on out)

Logan rummages around somewhere behind you, digging through the cabinets and moving everything around. The longer he searches, the more confused you grow. Your brows furrow as he cusses to himself.

There’s a low grunt of frustration as Logan rounds the kitchen island to glare at you. His face is screwed up in anger that seems to be misdirected towards you. You give him an awkward look, “Uh, hi?”

“He stole my booze,” he responds shortly and without explanation. You shake your head in confusion as the dots slowly connect. A small smile curls up on your lips but the glare he gives you makes it quickly drop.

“Well, you know Charles' rules about it,” you tell him flippantly. Logan huffs and shoves away from the counter. He turns back to the fridge, destroying the organizational system as he continues his search. You roll your eyes, eating your food and watching him with a bored expression.

Jean walks just as he really begins to work himself up. Her face pinches in distaste, catching on to the root of his anger quicker than you had. She looks at you with a small smirk. “Charles?”

“Yep," You answer, eyes still trained on him. He finally gives up the futile search, moving to stand beside you. Your eyes widen and you try not to physically react to his proximity. It’s an everyday struggle to remain calm around him. You’re desperately trying to keep a cool girl persona but you don’t think it's working.

You’re pretty sure he sees right through your pathetic attempts at nonchalance every time you two are paired on a mission. Jean notices the look on your face and smiles slightly. “The rest of us are thinking of going out tonight.”

It's not an offer with her, more of a demand for the two least sociable members of the team. She gives you both expectant looks, ignoring the way you minutely shake your head in disapproval at the idea of going out.

“Pass,” Logan grunts. He steps away from you, making for the kitchen door. Jean quickly steps in front of him, firmly placing her hand on his chest and giving him a stern look.

You feel like you're missing something as they silently converse with tense looks and aggressive eye motions towards you. You might be worried they're flirting if it weren't for how fed up they both look right now with one another.

Your brows furrow in confusion and it only worsens when Logan lets out an aggrieved huff. “Fine. I’ll come.” He gives Jean a thin smile, “Happy?”

She releases him and moves out of the way with a smug look. “Very. You’ll thank me, by the way.” She says to his retreating back, ignoring whatever he mutters back to her.

You’re completely lost about what that was but don't have much time to process it before Jean turns her attention to you. You already know what she wants and you immediately shake your head. “No, nope, you know I don’t like going out.” Jean smiles at you, but you know she’s just pretending to agree with you.

“Jean,” your voice is sharp as you glare at her. “Not happening.”

You really regret ever befriending her. She’s either ridiculously persuasive or she's used her mind-warping abilities on you.

You're squished between Ororo and Logan on a sticky club booth. The smell of booze and cheap perfume soaks through your senses. You feel the beginnings of a headache forming as the music pounds.

While you love the feeling of Logan's biceps pushed up against you, you hate the club more. Storm catches the tense look on your face and sighs in disappointment.

"We need to get some more alcohol in you," she tells you with a faux sense of authority. "Come on," she nods her head and for a moment you think she's talking to you. But, with a move that seems practiced, Scott and Jean both follow her out of the booth and head toward the bar.

You watch them go with a suspicious glint in your eye, not trusting how smoothly they all just conveniently slipped away. That leaves just you and Logan behind at the table and you doubt that's coincidental.

They've been a little pushy about this crush of yours ever since they found out. They insist that he feels the same way about you as you do him. But you sincerely doubt he's fantasizing about going on romantic picnics with you and thinking of mushy dates.

He seems like the kind of guy to value silence over a girlfriend and you doubt you're his type. You don't tend to stray from the rules, ever. You don't think there's much you two have in common, as much as the others insist the opposite.

You give him a subtle look over. He hasn't moved away from you, which seems like a good sign. There's plenty of space for him to go now, but he keeps himself pressed up against you.

But, he's also not looking at you. His thumb is idly tracing the rim of his glass and he's refusing to take his eyes off the stained wood of the table. You know he can feel the way you're staring at him, but he's stubbornly refusing to acknowledge your presence. It almost feels petty and that makes you scoff and roll your eyes at the thought. You doubt Logan cares enough to be petty.

Practically in love with me, you think sarcastically.

You know your friends are taking longer than necessary at the bar, trying to give the two of you some privacy. You feel like a high school girl, trying to get the cool guy to like her when he literally couldn’t give two shits.

Your friends being pushy about the two of you really isn't helping anything. It only gives you false hope, and when he's inevitably a jerk again, it just makes all your little fantasies come crashing down.

You pick up your glass, tipping your head back and letting the alcohol warm you from the inside out. You've done your hair, spent forever doing your makeup, and you put on your favorite slutty dress. You don't feel like sitting here all night sulking alongside your unrequited crush.

More often than not, Logan is nothing more than a wet blanket. You've put in the effort and dragged yourself outside for once, you'd like to enjoy the experience. He could come find you when he felt like pulling the stick out of his ass. You slide out of the booth with a huff, uncaring as the hem of your dress rolls up your thighs.

“Where’re you going?” Logan demands, voice gruff. Now he wants to pay attention, figures.

You turn around and glare down at him. His eyes rove slowly over you, the way they should have been all night. His gaze is a physical caress and his stare lingers along your body. You can practically feel his touch on the curves of your hips. Slowly, he looks back up to meet your eye, something like a challenge on his face.

You assess him, raising a brow and shrugging. “I’m gonna dance.” Something has possessed you or there’s a very talented telepath manipulating you right now. In a rare display of confidence you lean over the table, breasts pushed out towards him. “Wanna join me?” You ask, breath barely above a whisper.

He scoffs and goes back to glaring at the table. Whatever confidence you had settles coldly in the bottom of your gut. “Not my thing, kid,” he gripes, every bit the crotchety old man.

You roll your eyes, playing off the sting of rejection as an annoyance. “Of course, you’re not. You’re not having fun unless everyone else is miserable,” you snap. His eyes shoot up to meet yours, something like shock playing on his face.

You don’t let him respond, already turning on your heel and walking off. As much as you like Logan, sometimes this attitude of his becomes tiring. What’s wrong with wanting to have fun for a night?

You’re not usually a huge fan of clubs. But when you’re out with your friends, you’re not going to actively ruin their night. As rude as that was, it’s right. He’s the “cool” kid in high school who thought everything was lame and never wanted to enjoy anything.

So, what? You like to get a little drunk and sloppy sometimes, maybe if he ever tried it he might be less miserable. You head towards the bar, spotting Ororo’s hair easily through the crowd. You slide behind her, slipping your arm over her shoulder, “Hey pretty,” you whisper in her ear, laughing as she jumps.

She turns and glares at you, swatting at your shoulder. “You’re lucky I didn’t hurt you.”

“Ooh, save it for later.” She rolls her eyes and passes you a shot. You take it with a smile, wincing at the burn of the tequila. “You wanna dance?” You have to shout to be heard over the music but you know she hears you when her eyes widen in surprise.

She glances behind you and you don’t have to look to know Logan is glaring daggers at your back. You can feel him and it's pissing you off. “What happened?” You know she can tell something is up, you’re never this outgoing when you go out. But you don’t want to talk about finally coming to terms with the fact that you and Logan aren’t going to work out.

Instead, you hold your hand out and wink. “Wanna dance or not?” She laughs a little, slipping her palm into yours and letting you drag her out onto the dance floor. It’s been a while since you’ve actually been sober dancing. You usually like to be near blackout drunk, but you just don’t have the energy for that tonight.

Ororo is a little tipsier than you, clearly having been drinking while she was waiting at the bar. Her inhibitions are looser and she’s giggling as you move your hips against hers. Neither of you is dancing to impress, you’re messily moving around each other to the beat of the music. You don’t pay attention to the people around you, just having fun by yourselves.

Ororo takes your hand, spinning you a little and pulling you back into her arms. You laugh, swaying your hips to the same rhythm she is, chests pressed tightly together while you smile at each other.

She only lasts a few songs before she pulls back. “I need a drink,” she yells before stumbling back towards the bar. You feel yourself deflate, not sure what to do with yourself now that your favorite dancing partner has ditched you.

You look through the mass of grinding bodies and try and spot your table. You can’t see much through the brightly colored lights spinning all around you. Everything’s a little disorienting and the shots you’ve had aren’t helping.

Someone’s hand slips around your waist, “Your friend left you all alone?” Normally, you’d push whoever it was off and tell them to back off. But he’s got an attractive voice and you can feel how fit he is against your back.

“You gonna keep me company?” You tease, voice a low purr as you push back against him. Your hands drift down to his arms, pulling them a little tighter around your waist. He chuckles, the noise reverberating through your back.

You barely even get a chance to dance before your back is cold and you can feel his arms forcibly ripped off you. It doesn’t take much digging to find the culprit. Logan is behind you, hand fisted in the guy’s collar, “Why don’t you back off, bub?” He shoves him back and you roll your eyes as the guy scrambles off.

“What the hell was that?” You demand arms crossed as you glare at Logan.

He turns around and you’re surprised at the intensity of his glare. Something about it has you heated for an entirely different reason. He’s staring down at you like he’s gonna pounce on you. Your heart races, thighs clenching the longer he’s glowering at you.

He shouldn’t be allowed to be so attractive when he’s pissed off. He reaches forward, grabbing your bicep and jerking you into his chest. He leans down until his lips are brushing against your ear. “You wanna dance, let’s dance, kid.”

“What-”

He cuts you off, flipping you around and pulling your back flush against him. You can feel just how much your little show with Storm got him going. You truly weren’t doing anything too alluring, but it seems to be enough for him.

When you don’t move his hands drop to your hips and he grinds them down against him. “Logan,” you gasp his name out, caught off guard by how brazen he’s being in the middle of the club. There are people around you doing much worse but you’ve never known him to be this bold before.

“You trying to make me jealous?” It’s hard to pay attention to what he’s saying, to focus on anything at all when his hand is drifting steadily down your body. The tips of his fingers just barely brush the skin of your thigh while his thumb lets the hem of your dress curl up.

He flips you around, taking his hands off of you and instead tilting your chin up to face him. “I said,” he repeats in a condescending tone, “were you trying to make me jealous?” He doesn’t sound like he’s taking you seriously. Even if that was your intention, he thinks it’s just your petty way of lashing out at him for not dancing.

You narrow your eyes at him and swat his hands off of you. “No. I wasn’t trying to make you jealous. I was trying to have some fun since you’re clearly not interested at all.”

That insufferable smirk of his doesn’t go away for a minute. If anything, he’s more incensed by your anger. “Who said I wasn’t interested?” Your lips part, another dumb little noise about to slip out when he dips down and stops you.

He’s not trying to be subtle at all, gripping your dress and tugging you up against him while your lips lock. His tongue dips briefly into your mouth, savoring the taste of tequila on your gums before he pulls back.

“I’m interested in you, kid, just not this shitty little club.” Your mouth is gaping and you feel like a fool, standing there and just staring at him. Your brain is completely scrambled, bits and pieces forming together to scream that he kissed you. Too many things are happening at once. The music is making the floor beneath you vibrate, liquor is warming you from the inside out and tilting you closer to him. And he kissed you. Your lips are still tingling from it.

He chuckles a little under his breath, keeping you moving steadily against him. You’re simply something to be puppeteered by your desire for him. No thoughts linger inside your brain except his name. “You’re interested in me?” You repeat dumbly.

He leans down, tilting his lips closer towards your ear. “You can’t feel how much I want you?” One of your thighs is practically draped over his leg and he’s grinding his hips against you. The only thing you can feel is him. The smell of his cologne overpowers all the bodies surrounding you both, his voice drones out the loud music around you. You’re completely consumed by him.

“Logan,” your tone is scandalized, you can’t believe he’s bold enough to have you nearly half-naked on his lap right now. Your butt is one wrong move away from being the club’s newest attraction. Yet, despite every protest lingering on your tongue, you can’t do anything except kiss him again.

You don’t know if the moment is all one vivid wet dream your brain has conjured up at three am and you don’t feel like finding out. You want to enjoy being risky for once. You always play everything so safely. You don’t confess your feelings to Logan so you aren’t rejected. You never break the rules, you never act out. Just once, you want to do something bad and enjoy it.

Your arms twine around his neck and you tilt your head to deepen the kiss further. You feel his reaction more than you hear it. A low grumble in his chest that has you practically vibrating with want. He pulls away from you first and it takes a moment for your eyes to flutter back open.

When you finally do meet his gaze again, he’s got nothing but a smoldering desire in his eyes that makes you want to melt. He’s staring you down like you’re prey to be chased and consumed. “Can’t do this here,” he mutters.

You’re almost shocked that he’s the first one to cut this off. You knew it was going to happen, you can’t exactly fuck in the middle of the dance floor. As much as you might want to. But you thought you would be the one to chicken out.

He grabs your hand and shoves through the throng of grinding bodies. You grab the back of his shirt, stumbling after him and trying to stay close. “As much as I��d like to make that poor son of a bitch watch me fuck you, we need a little more privacy.”

It takes you a moment to realize he’s talking about the man you’d danced with earlier. If you could even qualify that as dancing. He’d barely put his hand on your waist before Logan had appeared out of nowhere.

Your eyes narrow in suspicion and you glare at his back. How had he even gotten to you so quickly? He must have been watching you like a creep the whole time. You almost want to laugh at the thought. But you’re distracted by him nudging you through a door and locking it behind you.

You glance around, spotting three sinks and some cracked mirrors. Toilet stalls linger to your right and your nose wrinkles in disgust. You turn around to complain but he’s already stalking toward you. Whatever sanitary complaints were lingering in the back of your throat are thrown out the sealed bathroom window.

He buries his hands in your hair, ruining the meticulously placed style. You arch into his hold, opening your mouth for him to explore and gasping as his hand drops to your hips. He tugs you closer, ripping your dress up and yanking your underwear down in one smooth move.

You barely have a second to process half of what’s happening before he’s got you bent over the sink. It’s all happening so fast, so many different desires of yours surging to the surface in one dingy club bathroom.

You’re slick with months of fantasies and sleepless nights where not even your vibrator could curb your desire for him. You hear his belt clink behind you and your back arches like a cat in heat. You practically present yourself to him, so desperate to feel him that you don’t care how much of a slut you’re being.

You know, if this was anyone else, you’d slap them for even suggesting the bathroom as the first place you have sex. But you’d have let Logan take you in the alley behind the club. You don’t care where you are, just so long as it's with him. And you know that desire runs a bit deeper than just a surface-level crush.

He doesn’t give you much warning as he thrusts into you. The breath is practically punched out of you as he fills you. Everything about it feels right. You’re so full of him you feel like you could explode. You know it’s going to take a pathetically short time for you to come. It’s just too much, too fast, you’re so overwhelmed by him.

“Oh god, Logan,” the porcelain creaks under your palms before you feel it splintering off into your skin. You can’t pay attention to it, though, jaw agape, capable of nothing more than slutty moans of his name.

He’s relentless behind you, thrusting so hard inside you that it feels like a punishment. He fists his hand in your hair and forces you to look in the mirror. “Come on, want you to see how wrecked you are. What a fucking slut you’re being for me, letting me fuck you like this in this bar.”

Your mascara is completely ruined, streaked down your face with your lipstick smeared across your chin. You look like a fucking mess and you couldn’t care less. You feel yourself fluttering around him the tighter his grip on you is. His hand slips from your hair, latching around your neck and tugging you into his chest.

He grips your chin and keeps your eyes on where the two of you are joined in the mirror. It only makes you clench tighter around him, watching as he moves in and out of you. You can see just how much of an effect you're having on him and it’s the biggest ego boost you’ve ever had in your life.

You’ve reduced him to a mess in a dirty club bathroom, so desperate for you he couldn’t even wait to take you home. He tilts his hips, hitting the spot inside you that has your eyes nearly rolling in the back of your head.

You whisper his name in warning, letting go of the sink to clutch tightly at his wrist. He wraps his arm around your waist, keeping you secured against him. His hips start to stutter, losing some of their rhythm the tighter you are around him. The feeling builds in your fingers, tingles down to the tips of your toes, and explodes in a nearly blinding pleasure. His hips are still against you, warmth filling you a moment later.

You would slump forward into the sink if it weren’t for his protective hold around your stomach. He keeps you tight against his chest for a minute, waiting for you to catch your bearings again. It takes an embarrassingly long time for the feeling in your legs to come back. You’ve never had such an intense experience like that.

You don’t know if it's from the thrill of possibly getting caught or just because you were with him. You’ve longed and lusted after Logan for so long, and finally having the real thing is a bit of shock. Especially when he exceeded your fantasies, you didn’t even know that was possible.

He props you against the sink, tugging your dress down and pulling your underwear back up. You watch him with dulled interest, still reeling from what you’ve just done. You’ve never been so bold before, it almost feels liberating to just say ‘fuck it’ and do what you want.

He pulls his own pants back up, fixing his belt and grabbing a wet paper towel for you. He’s silent as he wipes the mascara of your cheeks and you give him a questioning look. “You want the others to know what happened?”

You scoff and glance away from him, looking towards the door of the bathroom. “I’m sure they already know. Weren’t exactly subtle,” you tell him with a small smile.

He smirks, tossing the towel away and walking back towards you. He keeps his arms on either side of you, bracketing you against the sink and grinning down at you. “No, we weren’t, were we?”

You shake your head silently, lips curled up in amusement. Your eyes briefly dart to his lips before meeting his eyes once more. He catches the look with a sly smile, dipping his head down and giving you a brief kiss.

It’s short and sweet, more loving than the passionate, rip-my-clothes-off kisses from before. It feels like the type of kiss a married couple would share in the early morning when they only want to remind the other they love each other. Your proximity and the look he’s giving you feel more intimate than anything that just happened.

“You really meant it?” You muse, voice barely above a whisper as you smile at him.

“Meant what?” He mutters.

“You like me,” you tease, entangling your hand with his and tugging him even closer to you.

He gives you a confused look, glancing at the sink behind you and then back at your disheveled form. “Did I not make that clear enough, kid?”

You shake your head, “No, I think I might need another reminder,” you tell him. It takes a moment for your words to click for him. You can see when it does, he gives you a small smile and shakes his head with an aggrieved sigh like you’re bugging him.

“Really making me work for it, huh?” You nod your head playfully, dragging him down towards you and bringing him into another kiss. You can deal with the line forming outside in a minute. You can push off your nosy friends’ questions for another day. Right now, it’s just you and him, finally doing what you’ve wanted since the moment you saw him.

General Taglist: @evasmlp ♡

Logan Taglist: @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always @corvusmorte

@mrs-ephemeral @wolviesgirl @allllium @insomniachox @izbelross ♡

#anon #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine x you #logan howlett #wolverine #logan howlett imagine #wolverine imagine #hugh jackman #hugh jackman x reader

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obsesssedblerd · 1 month ago

Note

18 with Gojo and my life is YOURS 🤭

#18: “Were you watching me just now?”

[18+ content below, MDNI]

pairing: satoru gojo x f! reader

contains: smut, reader catching gojo masturbating, cowgirl, office sex, unprotected p-in-v (wrap it before you tap it), creampie, gojo being cocky, a bit of crack bc reader is slightly unserious lol, use of pet names (pretty girl)

likes, reblogs and comments appreciated <3

a/n: prompt edited slightly bc gojo is gojo lol. also, y’all know that one meme that goes something like “i be like “fuck him” and then end up actually fucking him”? lmao yeah.

— — — —

You hated working long hours, but the amount of curses that have been spotted in Tokyo during the last few weeks have given you, your colleagues and the students plenty to do.

With Suguru Geto keeping a close eye on the first-years as they complete their mission, and Kento Nanami doing the same for the second-years, that leaves you alone at the school late at night, silently completing some paperwork.

Well, you thought you were alone.

You walk through the empty halls of Jujutsu Tech, thumbing through some files that Yaga accidentally left you. They actually belong to the colleague that you thought about way more than you should; Satoru Gojo. As you approach his office, your steps slow as you raise an eyebrow in confusion.

The sliding door is slightly cracked, and the light is on. You know that he works the most out of everyone here, however, it’s your first time seeing him at the school so late. It’s nearly midnight. You’re about to call out his name, but stop when you hear it—the soft exhale, almost like a blissful sigh. Curious, you peek through the crack in the door, and your eyes widen at the sight in front you.

Satoru Gojo is fully leaned back in his chair with an arm tucked behind his head, his shirt raised just enough to expose his chiseled abs, and his pants are unbuttoned. Your eyes drift lower, and heat rises to your face when you see him stroking his cock. You know it’s wrong, and you know that you should look away, however, you can’t.

The matching jacket to his uniform isn’t anywhere to be found, and he’s wearing a dark shirt, which is just a little bit tight since his muscles bulge with every movement. You’ve worked alongside him for two years, but this is your first time seeing just how defined and strong his body is. His cock is long and thick, and a small part of you feels jealous of his hand, wishing that you were the one touching and stroking.

Your stomach flips. Fuck, what are you thinking?

Satoru’s head tilts back a bit to settle against his arm, and he lets out a deep, barely-audible groan as he continues to relieve himself. The sound of it makes your body grow warm. Though his blindfold is on, you can tell that his eyes are shut. You notice an earbud in one of his ears, however, his phone is face down on the desk next to him. Not watching something, but listening to something. You never thought that he’d be the type to prefer audio over visual porn.

His chest rises and falls with each quiet breath, and you wonder if he does this whenever the school is empty and he just has a few minutes to himself. Since he’s the main one constantly handling difficult missions, meetings with the higher-ups and training the students, you assumed that he barely had time for anything else. Being the strongest sorcerer seems far too intense. The work, teaching the next generation, dealing with the Limitless technique and the Six Eyes, being the one who—

Your heart drops when you suddenly remember. Six Eyes. Six Eyes. There’s absolutely no way he doesn’t know that you’re there right now.

You quietly turn around and walk down the hall as quietly as you can back to your office, absolutely hating yourself for staying as long as you did.

Not even two minutes go by until you’re thinking about Satoru in his office again. You exhale and continue writing reports, desperately trying to ignore the slight ache between your thighs. On your desk, your phone begins to vibrate. You think it’s Suguru Geto with an update, but it’s not.

It’s him.

You take a few seconds to contemplate your next move, then end up picking up the phone, keeping your voice as level as possible. “Hello? It’s late.”

“Like what you saw?” Satoru asks smugly. You can tell he’s grinning slyly. He knows.

You attempt to save yourself anyway. “Huh?”

“Don’t “huh” me, you were watching me just now,” he replies in a low voice. “Didn’t know our pretty, quiet sorcerer was such a pervert. So, I’ll ask again: Like what you saw?”

“...I didn’t mean to stare,” you say after a few beats of silence. “What kind of person does that with the door open anyway??”

“I pissed Nanami off last month and he slammed my door pretty hard. It hasn’t been able to close all the way ever since.” When you go quiet again, Satoru chuckles teasingly. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

You scoff. “What if I told you that I wasn’t going to answer that?”

“Oh, I know the answer, pretty girl,” he purrs, and the nickname makes your stomach flutter. “I was just giving you the opportunity to use your words and admit that you want me. You’re kinda bad at hiding your little crush, y’know.”

You flusteredly fumble over your words, and Satoru continues talking before you can form a complete sentence. “These last few weeks have been rough on you too, and I’m certain that you can also use a bit of relief. It’s just us here. No one will know.”

“And if I told you no?” You ask with a small, questioning hum. “Would you go back to listening to your porn?”

“Too bad we won’t find out, because you and I both know that you’re coming back here.”

The smugness in his voice makes you grit your teeth. “Cocky asshole.”

“Mhm. See you in a bit.”

He hangs up the phone, and you scoff, practically tossing the device back onto your desk. You readjust yourself in your seat, try to think past the surge of lust and remember where you were in your reports before he called. He’s so unbelievably frustrating, so arrogant, so not someone you should want.

“Fuck him,” you grumble to yourself as you continue writing.

—

“Ohhh god. Shit,” Satoru hisses through his teeth as his hands grip your waist. “You’re so fucking tight.”

You truly don’t know how you ended up here. One moment, you’re writing reports, and the next, you’re back in Satoru’s office, kissing him as hard as you could so you wouldn’t hear any sarcastic and smug comments from him before shoving him back into his chair and riding him. His cock feels bigger than it looks, and it reaches so deep that every movement strikes your weak spot. The floor of Satoru’s office is littered with your clothing, and you’re beyond thankful that no one else is in the building, because you’re certain that your sultry moans can be heard from anywhere.

Satoru trails open-mouth kisses along your chest, then sucks yet another mark onto one of your tits. You run your hands through his hair, then hold his shoulders to steady yourself as you continue bouncing on his cock, relishing the feeling of his skin without his infinity. You’re finally touching him, and it feels incredible.

He notices the way your hands can’t get enough of him, and he smirks up at you, his cerulean eyes light with amusement. “So much better than staring, hm? You’re— Mmm…” He groans pleasurably when you cut off his words by kissing him again.

“Shut up,” you sharply tell him in between kisses. “You talk too fucking much.”

“And you love it. You’re fucking soaked,” he retorts, and when he notices your movements begin to slow, he readjusts his grip on your waists and assists you, moving you up and down on his cock. Your mouth falls open when he changes the pace, fucking you a bit faster. “And close, too,” he notes, smiling when your pussy begins to twitch around his cock. “You’re squeezing me so tight. Gonna cum for me?”

You nod rapidly, and he brings one hand to where your bodies are joined together and begins rubbing your clit to get you to finish faster. You cry out as you climax, and your orgasm immediately triggers his. Satoru curses, and you feel his cock spasm as his cum spills deep within you. Heat floods your face at the feeling. It’s the first time anyone’s ever cum inside of you before, and you like it. A lot. You relax against him, and he wraps his arms around you, his cock still inside of you. Both of you stay like that as you and him catch your breath.

Once you’re ready, you finally lift yourself off of his cock, both of you lightly gasping and hissing at the sensitivity. You feel his warm cum begin to drip out. There’s so much of it.

“You should work late more often,” Satoru jokes lightly to break the silence, and you look at the sorcerer. He’s staring up at you, smirking, his white hair messy and his eyes soft. “I like how loud you are.”

You scoff and roll your eyes, but your heart pounds at his shameless confession. You swipe his phone up from your desk and wave it in front of him. “And you should stop watching porn at work.”

“I don’t watch. I like to imagine. I pick a video where the pornstar’s moans are similar to what I imagined what you’d sound like, then go from there,” he says simply.

Your eyes widen in shock. “Wait—you’ve been imagining me?”

“For a while, yeah,” he replies, tapping your thighs once to gesture that he’s moving, and you stand up next to his desk so he can do so. He also stands up, and that’s when you notice that he’s still hard. “You sound way sexier than I imagined,” he tells you. “Everything about you is way better than I imagined.”

He stands behind you, slightly leaning forward and placing one of his hands on the desk in front of you. His other hand gently lands on your waist. “Like I said earlier, it’s just us here, and I’m nowhere near done making you scream,” he whispers in your ear. “Bend over.”

----

prompt list <3

#gojo imagine #written by rey <3 #gojo smut #satoru gojo smut #gojo x female reader #gojo x reader smut #satoru imagine #gojo x reader #jjk smut #jjk gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader smut #gojo thirst

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mcflymemes · 8 months ago

Text

PROMPTS FOR FAKE DATING & GOING UNDERCOVER * assorted dialogue for muses going undercover as a couple and having to maintain the illusion that they're dating, and all the chaos, feelings, and whatnot that come with it, suggested by dollhidden, adjust as necessary, send "reverse" for the reversal of action prompts

DIALOGUE PROMPTS

come on. at least pretend that you like me.

if we hold hands, that'll sell the illusion even more.

what petnames do you think we'd use if we were actually dating?

please don't make this too difficult on me.

stop letting go of my hand.

you're going to pay for this later.

that was way too close of a call.

[petname]? that's what we're going with?

could you at least look like you like me for an hour? is that so hard?

admit it. i'm not half bad.

didn't think i would enjoy this as much as i am.

did you take acting classes growing up?

excuse me! i'm just trying to sell the illusion!

do you think they bought it?

you don't look like you love me. you look like you're constipated.

way to lay it on thick. i think you might have done too good of a job.

pretend to laugh at one of my jokes.

i guess i didn't expect you to dress up for this. i'm impressed.

you know, if you treated me like that on the regular, i might actually start falling in love with you.

they have to believe we're together. how hard can it be?

quick, pretend like you're about to kiss me.

you clearly care more about the tiny appetizers than you do me.

i'm just here for the free champagne.

you clean up nice.

that honestly wasn't as bad as i thought it would be.

they're looking over here. quick, say something funny.

that... was surprisingly smooth of you.

you don't date much, do you?

we should pretend to date more often.

hey! my eyes are up here!

shit, they're coming. kiss me.

ACTION PROMPTS all of these are written as if both parties are fake dating and going undercover at some specified event, but feel free to add your own scenarios if you'd like!

[ hand ] sender quickly takes receiver's hand in public to avoid getting caught

[ waist ] sender quickly slides an arm around receiver's waist in public to avoid getting caught

[ propose ] sender stages a dramatic fake proposal to further sell their relationship to the crowd, catching receiver completely off guard

[ fake fight ] sender and receiver stage a coordinated fake fight/messy breakup in front of the crowd

[ kiss ] realizing they need to sell their relationship to an important person/people, sender and receiver kiss for the first time

[ coat ] noticing receiver is cold, sender gives them their coat

[ entrance ] sender and receiver approach the entrance of the secret event and discuss their plans for selling their fake relationship to the crowd

[ slip away ] sender slips away from receiver in order to take a break from pretending, and receiver goes to find them

[ off limits ] sender and receiver are exploring an off limit portion of the event space, get caught, and are forced to try to explain how they got lost

[ the big kiss ] to conceal the fact that they're exploring an off limit portion of the event space, sender kisses receiver dramatically once they're caught

[ introduce ] sender introduces receiver as their lover/date/partner to a very important (and potentially dangerous) person at this event

[ family ] sender introduces receiver as their lover/date/partner to their family, who just so happens to also be at the event

[ lost ] sender loses receiver in the crowd and rushes to relocate them before their cover is blown

[ flirt ] when someone else shows interest in receiver, sender steps in and makes it clear they're "taken"

[ exit ] sender and receiver have successfully accomplished their goal, and now must sneak out of the event as covertly as possible

[ spill ] sender accidentally spills their drink on receiver and rushes them to the restroom to clean them up

[ private ] in a brief moment of privacy between the two fake daters, sender admits to receiver that they don't think receiver is as bad as they thought

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w2sology · 6 months ago

Note

DOING THE PRANK WHERE U PRETEND TO GET SOMETHING FROM THE BACK OF THE CAR BUT INTENTIONALLY SMACK YOUR S/O WITH HARRY PLEASE!!!!! would love if u included the comments at the end

cut it out, harry lewis.

summary: harry's been a bit sick of you hopping on tiktok trends, but this one leaves him a little more than baffled.

warnings: none

notes: this trend had me giggling so bad omg 😭😭😭 guys it's been ages (like a month but still) since i last wrote something writer's block was KILLING ME 😀 feel free to send in some prompts or reqs <3

harry had told you to get ready in the next half an hour, that you'd be going on a little date in central london. well, he didn't tell you, rather he sprung the idea up on you after you complained about being bored for the last two days.

it took a lot more than he thought it would've to convince you to leave the house, with harry going as far as telling you that he'd drive. that's how you knew he was being serious.

so as he was getting ready after you, you scrolled through the obsession of your life that was tiktok, laughing every so often and sending some to your friends who had yet to respond to the others that you sent.

stopping on one video that you couldn't stop giggling at, a thought formed in your mind. the tiktok was of a girl who wouldn't stop "accidentally" hotting her boyfriend whilst trying to get things out of the backseat of the car.

it had been ages since you last pulled a joke on harry, yet only the other day he pulled one on you with the help of the boys.

"are you ready yet or are you still laughing at your phone?" harry came back into the bedroom, pulling his navy blue nike hoodie over his shirt.

"i am ready, in fact," you got up, tiptoeing to gently grab a hold of his face, pressing your lips to his. "and the things on my phone will always be funnier than you."

"good joke," he smiled a false smile at you, squeezing your waist before grabbing the keys off of the dresser.

"i still can't believe you're driving. wait, pose with the keys, let me get a photo for your mum."

"don't get too used to this..."

harry walked out before you to put his shoes on, but seeing as you already had yours on, you asked him to unlock the car for you. to him, it seemed you were just eager to leave but really, you had to make sure that there were items in the backseat.

placing one of your tote bags in there, you evenly spread out one of the jellycats that you left in your car and another bag full of spare things. putting the camera at an angle that was able to capture both you and harry, you smiled giddily. soon enough, harry joined you in the driver's side, about to start the car.

"wait!" you called out. "i think i forgot something in the back."

"can't you get it whilst i drive? it's not me you forgot, right?"

"ha ha ha," you rolled your eyes. "no, i might rip it apart by accident."

harry shook his head, nonetheless not starting the car before he looked dead into your camera. he did wonder why you were recording, yet he never actually brought it up.

messing about in the back, deciding which item to use first, you decided on the jellycat.

it was an octopus, one that faith had got you from a trip in florida that she and ethan went to.

"here she is!" you smiled, pulling the jellycat back and purposely hitting it into harry. you did it gently, but not too gentle to the point where he didn't get irritated.

jumping as it made contact with his arm, harry frowned. "ow?" he said, looking at you, but you were too busy dusting off the jellycat.

"hm, actually no." you turned back around to put the stuffed animal back, this time reaching for the tote bag.

luckily, it didn't have anything too sharp in it, so you wouldn't actually hurt harry.

again, you pulled it back with enough force this time slightly jolt harry out of his relaxed position. "are you alright?" he asked, blinking at you.

"huh? what d'you mean?"

"you've just... full on wacked that into me?" he said, more so asked, in shock.

"did i?

"yes?!" you could've sworn you saw his eye twitch, having to restrain your laugh.

"oh," was all you mustered out, looking into the bag as if you actually needed something from it.

harry shook his head, running a hand through his hair as he waited for you to finish. "can we go now?"

"un, not yet actually," and you turned again to the backseat, this time grabbing the last bag.

pulling it back again, it hit harry in his arm, but this time he grabbed the bag from you, tossing it back in the backseat.

"harry! i needed that," you gasped, again to hide your laugh.

"no you didn't, y/n, unless you were using it to target me again" he mimicked your whiny voice.

you didn't know what had you more speechless, the mimicking or his reaction to your silly little prank.

"i wasn't targeting you..."

harry turned to you, giving you the most dead straight look ever. "cut it out, you hit me in the arm three times."

"maybe you were just too close to me."

"i— what?!"

you both stared at each other; harry with a look of shock and slight irritation and you with a serious look that you couldn't quite hold, bursting out in laughter soon after.

"oh my god!" you managed to say in between laughs. "you should see your face!"

"right, let it out. it's not that funny," harry shook his head at your state.

you leaned forward to grab your phone from where you left it, rewinding the last part where harry three the bag in the back. "oh, this is gold."

"you're a right wind up, you know that?" harry said, refusing to give you the satisfaction of know your trick worked on him.

"oh, i know," you smiled at him. "but you live me regardless."

"unfortunately."

"hey," you pushed a hand in his face, instantly groaning when you felt his tongue poke the same hand. "god, just drive."

#wroetoshaw #wroetoshaw x reader #sidemen x reader #sidemen #wroetoshaw imagines #harry lewis x reader #wroetoshaw imagine #harry lewis

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topguncortez · 6 months ago

Note

matt rempe with angst prompt “they’re lying to you” maybe she’s hughes sister and the boys don’t like her with a ranger player

Loving the Enemy - Matt Rempe

hockey masterlist || g's graduation celebration

synopsis: What was supposed to be an amazing night supporting her boyfriend's first NHL game, turns into a fight amongst siblings which leads to a broken heart. or in which Y/N Hughes is in love with the enemy.

word count: 4.5k

warnings: hockey inaccuracies, language, fighting, mentions of smut, break ups, angst

Being a Hughes sibling wasn’t easy. Being the only girl Hughes sibling was even harder. It wasn’t necessarily that you were a surprise, but your parents didn’t think that they would have a little girl after having three boys in a row. But you were their prized possession, and they would never say it out loud, but you were the favorite child.

You were close with all your brothers, being the youngest, they had been absolutely enthralled with you when you were born. Quinn had always been more than delighted to be an older sibling, and having a little sister was like getting ice cream before dinner. Jack was a bit indifferent towards you until you were about thirteen and he had accidentally body checked you during a scrimmage. He instantly expected tears, like had happened anytime he accidentally (or purposely) bodychecked you, but instead, you hopped back up and delivered a high stick to him about five minutes later.

But out of the three Hughes brothers, it was Luke, who you were the closest with. Only 18 months apart, some people believed that you two were twins. Not only did you both get the curly hair, but you both got the height gene that somehow missed Quinn and Jack. The two of you were also the quiet ones of the family, choosing to stick together and out of the spotlight. Luke was the first one you told that you didn’t like hockey, and you were the first one who Luke told he wasn’t going to go to the draft right away. But it wasn’t just the verbal communication that you two had, it was the silent glances and head nods that were understood from across the room.

And it was because of that bond, that Luke knew there was something you were hiding. He wasn’t sure what it was, but there was something off about you. He could hear you late at night talking and giggling with someone over the phone. You had been coming home late at night, using some excuse that you had been out with a friend or studying at a cafe. He even noticed that you were wearing a shirt he had never known you owned the other day. And right now, he knew that you were hiding away in your bedroom, which was uncharacteristically off for you. Usually you loved sitting on the beanbag, making fun of him, Jack, and Nico for playing NHL.

“Why is he here?” You whispered, peeking through the crack in your door, which gave you the perfect view of the living room, “I thought they were going to his place. Why are they here!?”

A low chuckle sounded out from behind you, making you turn your head towards the tall, muscular, still half naked man on your bed, “And this is funny to you? You realize if they see you here, you’re dead.”

“You don’t think I can’t fight them? Jack is what. . . five nine?”

You rolled your eyes, closing your door softly and walking back to your bed, flopping down next to him, “Five eleven and he’ll get out the measuring tape if you even doubt it.”

He instantly pulled your body into his, making you rest your hand on his peck, “So, you’re telling me you’ve never had a boy in your room before?” A shit eating grin arose on his cheeks, making heat flood yours, “Are you saying that I took your precious-”

“Oh shut up, Rempe,” You shook your head with a giggle, “It’s not cause you’re a boy, it’s because you’re a fucking Ranger.”

It wasn’t like you meant for it to happen.

You were sworn enemies. Well, supposed to be sworn enemies. The rivalry between the New Jersey Devils and the New York Rangers went farther back than you had been alive. The “cross river rivals”, just 10 miles away from each other. Though you hadn’t been a Devils fan until your brother Jack got drafted in 2019, and even then, you still kept somewhat mutual in your cheering for them. But when Luke got drafted three years later, you had sworn your allegiance to the team (even though you swore you would still put on a blue Canucks jersey to support Quinn. . . and even he knew that would only happen when the Canucks weren’t playing the Devils).

You met Matt by accident. You had been leaving a coffee shop late after working on a research paper. Jack and Luke had told you over and over again to never go out walking in Jersey City alone at night by yourself. But you had never feared being out by yourself. There were plenty of times at UMich where you would leave the library by yourself and walk across campus to your dorm alone. Never had you felt terrified or in danger. But for some reason that night, you felt a shadow looming over your shoulder.

You had just gathered your things, ready to step out the door and head for the subway, when a voice in your head told you not to go. Your eyes had darted around the shop, looking for someone who you could sit with or strike up a conversation long enough for you to text one of your brothers to come get you. The shop was basically vacant, and the barista behind the counter looked like she was waiting for you to leave so she could lock up. Taking a deep breath, you grabbed your backpack, placing your keys in between your fingers just in case. You had barely opened the door when someone placed their hand on your elbow.

“Daphne? Oh my god, I thought it was you! How the hell have you been?” The man said to you. You could see it in his eyes he was begging for you to go along with it and there was something about him, that you knew you could trust him.

“Kyle! Holy shit, where have you been!? It’s been what. . . four years?!” You said, overly excited. The barista from behind the counter cleared her throat, her eyes fleeting towards the clock behind her, “I was just about to hit up another spot, do you want to come with?”

“I would love to, we have some catching up to do.”

You felt a sigh of relief as you walked out of the coffee shop, the looming darkness fading away the further away you got, “Thank you for. . . that,” You muttered to him.

“No problem,” He said back, “I’m Matt, by the way.”

“Y/N,” You looked up at him, “I uh. . . I think I’m going to call an uber now or-”

“I can take you. . . home. . .” He scratched the back of his neck nervously, “God, I just saved you from one creep now you probably think I’m a fucking creep but I promise I just want to make sure you get home safe and I-”

“It’s okay,” You giggled, cutting off his rambling, “I would like a ride home, if that’s not too much of a struggle. I trust you. . . even if I just met you.”

You thought he was good looking before, but the smile that arose on his face amplified that by a thousand. His brown eyes were soft as he held his large calloused and slightly bruised hand out towards you, which you took without second thought. The two of you walked down the street towards a black BMW. You slid your backpack off your shoulder, and he gently took it from your hand, opening the door with his other. He jogged around the back of the car after tossing your backpack in the backseat.

“Sorry if it smells like a gym in here, I usually hit up Blair’s after practice,” He explained, though there was no smell at all, probably due to the air fresheners he had hanging around his rearview mirror.

“Smells like winter apple,” You said, reading the label, “What sport do you play?”

Matt placed his hand on the back of your seat as he backed out of the parking space, and you hated how attractive that was, “Hockey.” A cough spluttered out of your lips as you choked on your own spit at his revelation, “What? Not a hockey fan?” He asked with a nervous chuckle.

“Who do you play for?” You asked, ignoring his question.

“Hartford Wolf Pack, but I got signed with the Ranges-”

“Oh god,” You groaned, holding your face in your hands, “Of course, I was standing in Rangers’ territory.”

Matt’s brown eyes glanced over at you before looking back at the road in front of him, “Well, I’m sorry,” He shifted in his seat, “Are you like an Islanders fan or something?”

“Even worse,” You mumbled, “My hot knight in shining armor, turns out to be a Ranger, just my luck.” You sighed, “My brothers play for the Devils.”

“Wait,” Matt stepped on the brakes, “Brothers? Plural? Are you related to the Hugheses?”

“Those would be the ones.”

Matt shook his head, a laugh falling from his lips, “Wow, really fucked up here didn’t we?” You couldn’t help but smile, “Well, Miss Hughes,” Matt said as he pulled up in front of the high rise apartment building, “Is it crossing enemy lines if I ask for your number?”

You bit your bottom lip, trying to hide the blush arising on your cheeks, “It is. . . but I’ve never been one to swear allegiance to just one place.”

That night was six months ago, but for you it felt like it was just yesterday. There was a certain thrill about sneaking around with Matt, meeting when your brothers were gone or his roommates were out. You hated the rap he had developed in the AHL. He wasn’t the bad boy goonish hockey player with the fiery temper. He was a sweet, gentle giant, who loved to be the little spoon and have his hair played with. He sent you flowers and money to go get food cause he knew you forget to eat when you are in intense study sessions. Matt had become your everything in such a short amount of time, that you hated keeping him and your relationship from your family.

It wasn’t that you wanted to keep your relationship a secret on purpose, but you both decided it was going to be the best for both sides. Matt was starting his second season with Hartford and then moving up to play for the Rangers in the Stadium Series. For you, Luke was starting his rookie season, and you were doing everything you can to remain lowkey and out of trouble for his sake. Mentioning that you not only had a boyfriend, but that said boyfriend was Matt Rempe. . . the whole house would be flipped on its side.

“I have something to tell you,” Matt muttered, grabbing your hand and playing with your fingers. You loved the way that one of Matt’s hands could encase both of yours. You looked up into his soft brown eyes, that you swear resembled those of a baby cow, “The Rangers called. . . they want me to play in the Stadium Series.”

You gasped in shock, climbing on top of Matt’s lap and grabbing his face in your hands, “They want you to play!? Matt! This is amazing!”

A smile crawled across his lips, “Thank you,” You watched as a shadow of doubt and unease filled his eyes, “I want you there.”

“I’ll be there,” You leaned down and pressed a kiss to his lips, “I’ll be the loudest one there.”

“Oh you better,” Matt said, one of his hands gliding up to rest on your ass, the other one tangling in your hair, “You know I love you, right.”

“I love you too,” You smiled. Those three words would never fail to put a smile on your face.

“Good,” Matt smirked, “Cause right now, I need you to be very, very quiet.”

— — —

You didn’t really think it through when you told Matt that you would be there for the Stadium Series game. Not only did you have to sneak past your brothers to take the train to MetLife, you had to also sneak past your parents. Being the youngest of three boys, your parents had perfected the craft of knowing when one of their kids was hiding something.

“You sure you don’t want to come with us?” Luke asked, standing in the doorway of your room.

“Positive,” You did your best trying to pretend you were sick, “My body just aches and my head hurts. I think I’m getting sick.” You hated lying to your brother. You hated lying to any of your brothers, but especially Luke.

Luke frowned, “I hate that you’re missing this dinner.” Nico had decided to host a dinner for all the parents, friends and family that came into town to watch them play in yesterday’s stadium game. You also hated that you were missing spending time with your family, but it's Matt’s first game. You weren’t going to miss that for the world.

“Can you bring me back some fries?” You asked meekly.

“Of course, ducky,” Luke nodded, using the childhood nickname he gave you, “Text me if you need anything.”

You waited until the front door closed, before climbing out of bed and getting dressed. You threw on a pair of black jeans and a white Rangers sweatshirt. You finished the outfit with a hat and your coat, hoping to conceal your identity amongst the crowd. The train ride to MetLife was short, and you followed the crowd into the stadium. Matt had done good with getting you a ticket, sitting you a few rows behind the Rangers bench. You had gotten there in time to see them warming up, Matt’s large frame skating around the ice with ease.

It was as if he could sense that you were there, his brown eyes searching the stands until he found you. He sent you a small wave, which made your heart flutter as you returned the gesture. He looked extremely good in his white Rangers jersey and the eye black on his cheeks. You knew how important this game was to him, not only was it his first game, but it also fell on the anniversary of his dad’s death. You knew that all he wanted in the world was for his dad to see him play the sport they both loved.

Within minutes of the puck dropping, the Rangers took control. You felt the familiar anxiety that you would get when watching your brothers take the ice, when Matt got off the bench. You clenched your fists tightly as the Rangers moved down the ice, skating flawlessly and making a goal. You stood up and cheered with the crowd as the goal horn went off, high fiving strangers and screaming in joy.

However the giddy feeling quickly went away, as you looked back towards the center, and saw your boyfriend in a fist fight. You knew he was a fighter at Hartford, and it wasn’t your favorite thing about his hockey game. He was a gifted player, with the height and reach other players would die for. You hated that the Wolfpack had set him up to be a goon within his first season there.

You watched with bated breath as the refs let him and the Islanders player battle it out. Punches delivered from both players, until they finally came to a draw. You shook your head as Matt raised his arms, trying to get the crowd fired up as he skated towards the penalty box. His first NHL game and his first five minute penalty for fighting.

As Matt sat down, taking the bag of ice from his trainer, he turned to scan the crowd, looking for you. He easily spotted you, standing out amongst the crowd as you gave him a look.

“You okay?” You mouthed and Matt nodded, holding up his bruised hand. You playfully rolled your eyes, “Pay attention,” and pointed back to the game. Matt smirked, giving you a mock salute before turning back towards his team on the ice.

When the game ended, in a Rangers victory, you left quickly. You wanted to stay and see Matt and hug him, but you knew that you would be cutting it close to when your brothers and parents would be back. You settled for sending him a text, and telling him you would come over as soon as you could to help celebrate with him.

The apartment was dark when you arrived back, your siblings still out at the dinner with the team. You let out a sigh of relief, dashing back to your room and changing back into your pajamas. By the time you had settled down and turned on some cheesy romcom, the front door opened and the familiar sounds of your brothers and parents filtered into the apartment.

“Ducky!” Luke shouted.

“She’s probably sleeping, asshole,” Jack scolded him.

“Don’t call your brother an asshole,” Your mom chided.

“Ducky!” Luke called again, “I got you fries!”

You giggled, pushing the covers back and going to greet your family. Their smiles were big and comforting as you sat down at the island, opening the to-go container of fries. Jack filled you in on everything you missed at dinner, your mother sitting behind you and playing with the ends of your hair like she used to do when you were younger. It felt like old times, the only person missing was Quinn. You knew he was doing great things out in Vancouver, but you missed having him around. The facetime calls weren’t enough.

“So what did you do tonight, duck?” Your dad asked.

“Oh uh,” You cleared your throat, “Just watched some movies and slept.”

“You missed an exciting hockey game,” He said, “That Rempe kid is going to be a menace.”

“Yeah,” You tried to hide the blush arising on your cheeks, “I’m gonna go back and lay down, still not feeling the best.”

“Okay, sweetheart,” Your mom squeezed your shoulder, “We’ll see you in the morning.”

You nodded your head, “Yeah, maybe we can go to that bakery on the corner-”

“What the fuck were you doing at MetLife?” Luke’s cut you off. You looked at him, your heart thundering in your chest.

“I-I wasn’t at M-MetLife,” You cursed your nervous stutter.

“Bullshit,” Luke cursed, putting his phone on the counter, and clear as day there was a picture of you, in your white Rangers sweatshirt, sitting behind the bench, “I thought you were sick.”

Tears began to cloud your eyes as you looked at your parents and then your brothers, “I’m sorry.”

“Why did you lie, Y/N?” Your mom asked. And suddenly you felt like you were a child all over again, being scolded by your parents. You hated getting in trouble, you hated looking at your parents and seeing disappointment in their eyes. The only time you ever really cried was when you were in trouble.

“I. . .” You huffed, “I went to watch Matt play in his first NHL game.”

“Matt?” Luke asked, “. . . Matt fucking Rempe?” You nodded your head. You felt your mom shift behind you, her stance going into protective mode, “Why the fuck would you go watch Matt fucking Rempe play-”

“Language, Luke,” Your mom spoke.

“Because we are dating.”

Silence spread across the kitchen for a moment, before laughter sounded out. A cruel sounding laughter as you looked at Luke. It was the fake sounding, teasing laughter that made you feel like a child.

“No you’re not,” Luke shook his head, “There’s no way.”

“Why?” You asked softly, “We’ve been together for six months.”

“No,” Luke chuckled again, “You aren’t dating him. You are not dating a hockey player, let alone one that has more penalty minutes than time on the ice. You aren’t dating him, you might be fucking him-”

“Luke!”

“But you aren’t dating him.”

You shook your head, tears falling down your cheeks, “He loves me.”

“Yeah and when did he say that? Before or after you fucked-”

“Enough!” Your mom stood up, her hands on the counter, “Y/N, you shouldn’t have lied to us about going to the game. If you wanted to go to support Matt, that’s all you needed to say,” You nodded, looking down at the counter, “Luke, you do not get to say those things about your sister and her relationship. You do not get to say those things about any woman for that matter. Now, apologize.”

You looked up at your brother, expecting to see remorse in his eyes, but all you saw was anger. Luke looked at you, before grabbing his phone and going to his room. You closed your eyes, feeling regret and guilt rising in your body. You mom put her hand on your shoulder, as a small sob left your lips.

— — —

It had been two weeks since your fight with Luke. Your parents had flown back to Michigan, leaving Jack to play the mediator between the two of you. Your mom had not so secretly texted Quinn to tell him what happened. He had called you the night after they left, which led to another tearful confession about your relationship with Matt. Quinn, being the big brother that he is, said he was upset that you felt like you couldn’t tell him about your relationship, but was nonetheless happy for you as long as you were happy.

But you weren’t sure if you were happy. Luke had refused to talk to you, or even be near you. If you entered the same room he was in, he would leave. He wouldn’t fix you a plate of food like he usually did, or tell you when he was leaving for the arena for a home game. He wouldn’t even respond in the groupchat when you would ask him a question directly.

But your strained relationship with Luke wasn’t the only relationship on the rocks. You hadn’t talked to Matt since the night of the stadium series. He had sent you countless text messages and left voicemails. He even went as far as sending flowers daily to the apartment, which Luke would toss out if you weren’t quick enough to grab them.

You were laying in your bed, half watching an episode of Bridgerton, like you had been for the past two weeks. Normally, you would be out in the living room with your brothers, but your bedroom felt like the only safe space in the entire apartment. You could hear the occasional shout or jest from your brothers as they were playing some video game on their night off. Beside you, on your bedside table, your phone buzzed for probably the tenth time this evening, another missed call from the same person.

You weren’t sure what you were doing. You knew it was hurtful to string Matt along like this, but you also didn’t have the heart to break up with him. These past two weeks had felt like your heart had been ripped out of your chest, and to even think about living a life without him in it hurt too much.

You let out a slow breath as you closed your eyes, listening as the buzzing of your phone finally stopped. However, the loud sound of knocking pulled you from your moment of peace.

“Did you order something?” Jack’s muffled voice sounded out.

“No,” Luke said back. There was shuffling as the front door opened and the knocking ceased, “Oh you’re fucking kidding me. Why the hell are you here?”

“Where’s Y/N?” Your heart sped up at the sound of the all too familiar voice. You quickly jumped up from your bed, opening your door and running to the living room. There in all his tall glory, stood the man you loved, “Y/N.”

It felt like the air had been drawn back into your lungs as you looked at him, “Matt.”

“I uh. . .I just needed to see that you were okay. You haven’t been answering my calls or my texts,” Matt scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, looking at you and then your two brothers, “I’m gonna go now.”

“Wait,” You said, taking a step forward, “Can I talk to you?” Matt nodded his head, looking like a lost puppy dog. You looked at your two brothers, “Can I talk to him alone?”

“Yeah, c’mon Moose, we got game film to look at,” Jack said. Luke looked Matt up and down once, before letting him into the apartment and following his older brother down the hall towards the office room.

You silently walked over to the couch, Matt following behind you. The two of you sat there in silence for a moment, before you broke the ice.

“Do you love me?”

Matt’s head snapped towards you, as your eyes looked straight ahead at the tv, “What?”

“Do you love me?” You looked over at him, “Do you mean it when you say-”

“Yes,” Matt answered quickly, “Yes, I do love you. I mean it every single time I say it. Why are you asking me this?”

You shook your head, “Luke said something and I-”

“He’s lying to you,” Matt moved from the couch to kneel down in front of you. He took your hands in his, “I love you, Y/N Hughes. I know we’ve only been together for six months but it’s been the happiest six months of my life. Not even hockey fills me with the joy as being with you does. So yes, I love you. I love you so fucking much.”

You sniffled, tears falling from your eyes. Matt quickly wiped his thumb over your cheekbone, “I’m sorry. I. . . It all fell apart so quickly. Luke found out I lied and went to the game, and then he got so mad. I didn’t want to have to choose between-”

“No, you shouldn’t have to choose,” Matt said, tears brimming his own eyes. He was silent for a moment, warring thoughts in his head as he thought of what to say, “It would absolutely break me to pieces, but I won’t be the reason why you and your siblings don’t talk anymore. I. . . I can’t do that to you.”

“Are you breaking up with me?” You gasped.

“I don’t want you and Luke to not talk to each other because of me.”

“No,” You shook your head, “It will be okay, I promise. He’ll get over it.”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Matt said, tears flowing freely down his cheeks, “I know your family means everything to you, and I can’t stand to be the one who ruins that. I’m so, so sorry,” Matt leaned forward, placing a kiss on your forehead, “I’ll always love you. No matter what. You are it for me.” You closed your eyes, savoring the feeling of his warmth, “Goodbye Y/N.”

You sat there, unmoving as Matt stood up and walked towards the door. Your eyes fluttered open at the sounds of your brothers' footsteps, moving towards you.

“Are you happy?” You sneered at Luke, “He broke up with me.”

“Ducky-” Luke sighed.

“No,” You stood up shaking your head, “The love of my life just walked out the door because he knows that I care too much about you and your opinion. So Luke, are you happy?”

#matt rempe #matt rempe fan fiction #matt rempe fan fic #matt rempe imagine #matt rempe x reader #matt rempe fic #ny rangers #hockey imagine #hockey fan fic #hockey fic

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siltyriver · 10 months ago

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Ride AND Die AU

(Danny Phantom DanDash Prompt #1)

AU in which Dash has been part of the squad since third grade and goes into the portal with Danny (as a show of solidarity against Tucker and Sam’s annoying nagging) and they both come out half-dead. There are now TWO ghost boys running around Amity Park.

With a heaping load of angst: Danny for letting Dash go with him into one of his parents’ malfunctioning contraptions and Dash for accidentally tripping Danny and making the damned thing turn on in the first place and of course Sam and Tuck for egging them on and resulting in their two best friends dying and not to even mention the fact that Danny’s parents now want to hunt them both for sport and disect them in the name of science

But also a healthy load of fun and fluff: the boys learning how to use their powers together, increasingly absurd excuses to get out of classes/events to go fight ghosts, and a super fun and convenient mind and/or physical link caused by the two being in such close proximity during the accident (they were totally hugging, but who can blame them, really)

Sam: Guys I think the term is ‘Ride OR Die’ not ‘Ride AND Die’

Dash: Well maybe we’re just more serious about this friendship than you are, Manson

Danny: Yeah, Sam, we’re deadly serious. Get on our level

Tucker: I feel like two dead friends is enough actually

Dash: You’re right, two’s a party but three’s a crowd

Sam: What’s four, then?

Danny: A funeral procession

#i will eventually write this i have Notes and Ideas up the wazoo #i’ve been rewatching dp can you tell lmao #danny phantom #danny/dash #dandash #swagger bishie #teddy ghost #going back to my roots with this ship lmao #ride AND die au #danny phantom prompt #vee’s prompts #vee’s danny phantom prompts

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yandere-sins · 1 month ago

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Monstober - Day 5: Naga/Lamia [Elemental Sacrifices Part 1/4]

I am fashionably late and since this story was supposed to come out on my birthday I switched the prompts since we all know Nagas are my roman empire, hehe >:3

Also this is part 1 of 4 of a little mini-series happening in this Monstober Challenge, and I will lovingly call it the Elemental Sacrifices. I know we already had a sacrifice before, but what if—hear me out—we have 4 more? Yes, I thought that was a good idea too, glad we agree :D

(They are not much related aside from the concept, but they are in the same universe, so maybe there's some potential for future ideas! :D)

Prompt: Day 6: Naga/Lamia | Scales // Wrapping around // Poisonous Warnings: Yandere, AFAB!Reader, Sexual Actions (Dub-Con, Use of Aphrodisiac, Drinking said Aphrodisiac and getting it stabbed into your arm, Deep Kissing, Accidentally cutting your own tongue, Fingering), Violence (Biting with fangs, Description of (meager) fighting, Cutting the enemy, Blood mention), Monsters + Descriptions of Monsters, Light self-degradation, Long Post

The tradition had always existed.

From the moment you were born, you were told about the sacrifices made to the four gods, which took place twice a century. The four tribes would unite in peace and unity for this month of reverence, choosing their sacrifices carefully and laying down their weapons to organize and strategize the ceremonies so that no god would feel aggrieved. It was a wonder that people that worshipped different things, lived by different means, and usually clashed like hot and cold, light and shadow, could work together meaningfully to pay their respects, assure that everyone would continue to be in the favor of the different gods that roamed the lands you lived on.

And yet, somehow, it had always worked out.

"There, almost done," your mother mumbled, curling your still-damp hair around her finger so it would frame your face. You clenched your fists in your lap as you sat in front of the mirror, unable to even look at yourself without retching. 20 years ago, when you were told the stories for the first time, no one had assumed you'd be the one to be sacrificed in the next ceremony. No one informed you that your days were numbered, your purpose to be nothing but monster fodder.

Because that's what they were, monsters, nothing more, nothing less.

A two-headed snake, an ancient tree, a tentacled beast, and a fire-spewing reptile with wings—those were the four monsters you and the other tribes worshipped with offerings and sacrifices. All your life, you practiced the mindful handling of the teachings, learning how to hunt, fight, and serve your god. But even so, just because you were born the child of the leader, you were going to be discarded by your own people, and your hatred was as fiery as the vulcanos that surrounded your homeland.

"I heard the water tribe sends their most wonderful singer this year, too."

It was a frail attempt at small talk, and you couldn't care less about how pleased your mother sounded as she told you about the other sacrifices. The other poor souls that probably wanted nothing more than to run away about now. You had hidden your tears very well with your head hung low, but you couldn't imagine the other sacrifices felt any less miserable as you did.

You had plans for the future, plans that involved leading this tribe and creating a family sometime. Maybe participate in a war with the other tribes and show off the prowess of the fire tribe leader's oldest child. It was in the nature of your people to be strong and powerful, as was the exceptional artistry of the water people.

"And the earthclan sends another one of their scholars. I don't understand why they think the nature gods would like all these people hiding with their noses in their books, but I'm sure they have their reason for choosing them. Oh, but the wind people are also sending their ruler's child, just like you!"

A tone of pride swung in her voice as she continued arranging vividly red flowers like a crown in your head, pulling at strands of your hair to wrap them into the stems so they'd hold. "And yet, you'll make the prettiest sacrifice of them all. You'll make us all so proud!"

Inside of you, a war broke loose. A war you knew you couldn't win as you knelt on the floor of your childhood home, the place you always thought safest in all of the lands, yet it was no longer the place you'd return to after this expedition. All your good deeds and all your achievements were for naught because when the announcement was sent out that the sacrifice was going to be held that year, it ended your life instantly.

A part of you knew it could happen. Although you never wished this fate on anyone, you had always hoped for a sibling, born or adopted into your family, that could take this responsibility from you ever since you learned of it. Other tribes voted. They chose by luck or by skill at the time of sacrifice. But not yours. Yours had traditions, which meant the leader's strongest family member would go to the gods and ask for their blessings. Get eaten in exchange for a promise of safety and prosperity that the monsters could easily break on a whim. Returning would mean the blessing failed, so that wasn't an option. If you couldn't appease them alive, you would do it with your death. The ultimate sacrifice.

"Now, you're perfect. Look at you, my pretty child."

Pushing her fingertips into the underside of your jaw, your mother forced you to look up into the mirrors. Tears tumbled from your eyes as your head snapped upwards to avoid the discomfort of her nagging touch, and you watched her expression fall in her reflection. Not from sorrow, mind you, but anger.

"This is your duty," she reminded you. "Now that you have grown up and proved your worth, you should feel honored to be chosen."

You bit your tongue, swallowing the disrespect you wanted to voice. You couldn't care less about the sacrifice, about gaining the ire of some monster that some old people had decided to worship. About your mother's opinion or that of anyone else!

Deep inside you, you were afraid. Fear, first and foremost, had always been your teacher. It showed you the boundaries of your abilities and pushed you to perform deeds beyond your capabilities in times of need. It wasn't something to be ashamed of or scolded for; it was natural and normal.

But right behind it was anger. Anger at this tradition, anger at your family, and anger at the monsters for demanding lives in exchange for peace. Gods they called themselves, but there was nothing godly about how they conducted their demands. They were cowards with a taste for human blood, and instead of fighting and being slain by those humans, they demanded sacrifices to satisfy their hunger.

And there was nothing you could do to save yourself.

If you rebelled, you'd be dragged out by your limbs and hair, even if that destroyed the work they put into prettying you up. Who needed to be pretty when they'd be eaten alive? Still, as a warrior at heart, you couldn't imagine a greater shame than to force your friends to bring you to that dreadful sacrificial space, even if they might think it was for the greater good. If you had to go out, you wanted to do so with your head held high, no matter how foolish that pride of yours was. It was better than to put your unfair death entirely into the hands of others.

If you were going to be a martyr, then you'd at least die fighting until your last breath.

---

"That's far enough," you announced, coming to a halt at the edge of the lush green forest you used to hunt in. Before you, vulcanic stone spread in dark hues as far as you could see. Ash filled the air, mixed with the taste of metal and fire. Nothing grew on the stone ground, it was as welcoming as a death threat. Veins of red broke through the stone, leading to pools of lava that was cooking beneath the stone surface, the air simmering from the heat that immediately greeted you, coating your skin in a sheen of sweat. Once you had found the duality of this place beautiful. Now you dreaded it, hands curled into fists as you took slow, steady breaths to calm yourself.

"I wish to face the gods myself."

"Go forth then. Make us proud," your father expressed, resting his hand on your shoulder. A simple squeeze was all you got, and much like your mother who hugged you before your departure, their gestures were too brief to be any comfort. You wondered how they could have possibly come to terms so quickly with losing their own child when you, the one to be sacrificed, were struggling with your fear and pride.

Every step on the hot floor was like a stab of a knife in your back. The hunting party that had accompanied you watched as you continued your journey towards the sacrificial space the ancestors had created, their gazes like whips that spurred you on. But they didn't linger. Since they didn't have to tie you down on the altar, they had no reason to watch the gruesome death of their own kind, knowing that either way, you weren't going to return. You knew the way back to your village like the inside of your pocket, years of roaming the jungles teaching you how to go home. But they'd kill you before you cursed the village with your failure to be sacrificed. Merciless, cold. You were no longer a part of them. You were a meager part of the tradition now.

However, the way to the altar was actually more of a challenge than going home. You had only been there once as a child, laying flowers down for your uncle, who had been the last sacrifice years before your birth. Your father may have called him your uncle, but it turned out he was an adopted orphan who ended up paying for his dedication to your family much later. Your father seemed unsympathetic towards him, but it dawned on you that he must have never been close to this brother of his, probably knowing the fate that awaited him.

You never knew your uncle, but back then, you had been proud of him, too.

That day was also the first time your father explained the traditions and the importance of keeping them up. How much honor it brought to your family and how many lives it saved to lose one person. You wondered why, after he taught you so many skills, worked so hard to make you a respected member of your tribe, and loved you like a father would, he could so easily send you to your death. But it slowly dawned on you what kind of person your father was. One that didn't truly cared for his "family", only for his own pride and gains. And you had been so easily fooled as to believe him all this time.

It took you much longer than you remembered, but eventually, you reached the grounds your ancestors had created for this spectacle. It was close to the foot of the volcano, an altar erected from the stone sprouting from the ground with nothing else present in this wasteland. The heat had increased substantially over time, every breath burning in your lungs, your eyes dry, and your feet chafed from walking over the smoldering stone for so long. Dread was no longer a constant companion as acceptance slowly crept into your mind. You had seen the bones of many humans on the way to this place. Apparently, not everyone had been so lucky to have made it this far, either the environment or the monster killing them before they reached the altar. Or maybe themselves, now that you thought about it.

The sight of the raised altar forced a shuddering breath out of your lungs, the stinging sensation barely enough to distract you from the blaring truth. You were going to die. One way or another, you would. Touching the side of your leg, you felt the leather holster beneath your dress. The dagger you sneaked would probably not be enough to kill the monster, if there ever was one. Still, if you could inflict some damage to it, perhaps your tribe would one day snap out of the trance that it was this immortal threat that your ancestors appeased by offering their own children to it. Maybe they'd see the wounds and realize they didn't have to cower in fear of it, and thus, maybe your sacrifice would not be in vain.

Brushing your hand over the warm stone, you felt an untypical cold shudder run down your spine, knowing it was meant to be your deathbed. You wondered how many before you had laid here, waiting for the monster to come. How many had prayed, hoped, and begged to be saved, and how many had fought and struggled like you were going to. Following in their footsteps now, you knew they did what they thought was their best. That was the greatest honor you could bestow on them.

You hoisted yourself up, struggling to climb on top of the massive stone slab, before you sat close to the edge and stretched out your legs, feeling the burned and chafed soles of your feet crack as they finally got some rest. Hissing, you were confronted with the pain, yet you only sighed, swiping your hands over your face to free you of the sweat that was desperately trying to cool you down. Even if you were used to the warmer temperature of your home, it was nothing against the volcanic heat, and you almost admired it for burning for so long, never bothered by anyone. The air was as heavy as your soul felt, trapped in your body and scared to the heavens.

Imagining the snake did very little to soothe your mind, but you still tried to prepare for the shock its sight undoubtedly would be. You imagined a snake as tall as a building, with two heads splitting apart at one end. Heads with sharp fangs and venom dripping out of their mouths, eyes that ate you up before their maw even got close to you. It would slither over the ground, nimble, avoiding the lava pools, but too large to hide behind the wasteland it reigned over. Bloodlust urging it on as it smelled the sweet fragrance of the flowers on your head, which were delighted to bloom in the warm temperatures. A green tail? Brown? Perhaps a little of both? Maybe its scales were dark red like all the blood it drank from the sacrifices.

"Look at that, they do sacrifice their own kind."

Deep in thought, the heat probably having gone to your head, you hadn't noticed the chafing sound that slithered closer from behind. Only when someone suddenly spoke did your mind alert you of the danger, and you jumped down from the altar, swiftly spinning around and bracing yourself. One hand hovered over your dagger beneath your dress, and the other arm stayed defensively in front of you. With the distance you managed to jump and the massive altar separating you from the monster, you were at a surprising advantage, and it felt good to have the upper hand.

Your eyes widened at the sight of two men standing behind the altar, one of them leaning down on the stone surface right next to where you had sat. In contrast, the other stood straight with his arms behind his back, but both watched you with burning intensity. Immediately, you noticed their similar appearances, the light grey hair falling from their heads, bound by braids, and still with countless strands falling over their exposed chests. Their eyes were like marbles, reflecting the different colors of the area in them, elongated pupils slightly vibrating as they fixated over and over on you. But what really put you off was their size. Their legs must have been easily as tall as the altar, and that was no size a normal human should have had.

"Mother never told us sacrifices were this cute."

The man leaning on the table rolled over on his side, his hair splaying all over the altar in waves. And yet, even while moving, his gaze never trailed off—but yours did. You let out a horrified gasp as the scaled tail of a snake buckled and arched to accommodate the man's movements, and with a surprised jolt, he reared upwards, exposing even more of the tail that started at his hips.

A moment of silence washed over you three, and you felt incredibly exposed and stared down by two pairs of eyes as if they were pinning you into place. Willing you to not move a muscle, to be eaten without putting up a fight. No one said anything before the startled man laughed out loudly, shaking his head and holding his belly before slapping his free hand attention-seekingly against his companion's arm.

"That scared me," he chuckled. "I've never heard that kind of sound before."

The other man let out a hum of agreement, nodding his head before looking back at you. You were at a clear disadvantage, unsure where to look first and who to focus on, as you were outnumbered by the two. The one that kept talking was smaller than the other, although this could have been the heat playing tricks on you. Both were muscular, but he was less refined than his almost-twin. You wagered you could take him on if there wasn't a scaley tail winding from his hips. That would be additional weight you couldn't topple, no matter how much you playfighted the other hunters and warriors of your tribe, which sometimes outdid you in terms of weight and size.

The quieter one, on the other hand, had the typical looks of a working man in the village: big arms coming from a strong back and toned muscles that the woman would drool over, while the other seemed fit and nimble. But your eyes unwillingly focused on the tail as the two scaled the altar, moving forward oddly in sync until it became clear why.

Their two strands of tails flowed together between them into one massive one.

It was mesmerizing, you had to admit, the scales an iridescent white. But whenever the tail moved, it took on the hues of the land, grey and red, only to return to their original color as it wound itself. You were awestruck and panicked at the same time, as the tail seemed to be neverending, wrapping around the altar, finding hold on the stony ground that even your feet struggled with. Fear filled you as you watched their slithering movements, the mistake in your thinking now glaringly clear: The monster existed, and it had come for you.

"Y-You're the monster!" you screamed, and the smaller one of the two scrunched up his nose, taking offense. The white scales swept over the altar, landing in the space between you and the stone with a heavy thud. His body was barely shaken by the impact, so perfectly in balance with itself despite their unnatural split into two different entities, and the seriousness of the situation rained down on you like their sharp gazes as you realized there would be no chance of you overpowering either of them.

Even with their connection, they spread out too far to reach both simultaneously. They could still move independently, even if their range was limited to what their body could give. But even without them rearing up on the tail, they were almost two heads taller than you were. They knew their body better than anyone, and you didn't doubt they had some tricks up their non-existing sleeves to best you.

Biting your lip, you finally slipped your hand beneath your dress, never letting the monster—monsters—out of your sight. To your surprise, you watched their gazes slip to where you raised the fabric, observing you with curious intention, their split tongues slipping out from their lips, tasting the air as they ogled at your exposed thigh.

Your hand curled around the grip of your dagger, and the moment you pulled it from its holster, the snakes lept forward. There was no time to be proud of yourself, but your reaction was immaculate. You jumped back just in time to avert the nimble one's grabby hands, even drawing blood as your blade slit open the skin between his thumb and pointer finger.

However, as fast as you dealt with one of the snakes, you couldn't recover quickly enough to avoid the second pair of hands. Much like you anticipated, their range was too extensive to fight both of them at once, and although you ducked beneath one hand of the stronger monster, his second hand latched on, right in your hair. You watched as the red petals of the flower crown loosened and swayed in the air like a sad veil of defeat.

Your head was yanked back, and you acted quickly, directing the knife towards the unprotected free shoulder, somewhere that would hurt. Somewhere that would leave a visible scar and show everyone that these monsters could be injured. But a bloody grip around your wrist prevented you from pushing the dagger into the creature's partially scaled bodies, your hopes crumbling into ash.

"You good?" the more muscular man asked, and the other clicked his tongue in annoyance while you flailed and struggled in their grip. Your free hand was useless as you couldn't even reach forward enough, and so were your legs as you stood on your tiptoes while they yanked you around.

The latter lifted the hand that was holding your wrist to his mouth, licking up the blood that spilled from the cut on his as he maintained eye contact. You bared your teeth in both pain and defiance, not showing any of the miserable fear and panic you felt inside. You didn't manage to do what you came here for, and you felt the power surging through their bodies just from their hands on you. The failure gnawed at your determination, the fight as good as lost.

"We're not monsters," he hissed, glowering at you, although it looked more like a pout. "But you sure are quick on your feet."

Their comments should not have caused your heart to swell with pride, but hearing it from the monster you swore to hurt in exchange for your life did feel good.

"Surely you wish you'd have gotten an easier meal, monster! But I won't go down until I have shown everyone that you can be wounded and defeated! That you will bleed if the people unite! There will be no more sacrifices once they've seen what I did to you!"

"We're not monsters!" they repeated in unison before exchanging a brief glance with each other.

"Well, I won't call you god and beg for your mercy!" you spat, and the lips of the snake with your hand in his grip curled into a grin.

"Are you sure about that?"

With his blood coating your hand, he raised it way over your head, causing you to gasp as your whole body strained to accommodate the movement. His hand slipped upwards, a few fingers holding you in place, while some snaked between your palm and the knife in your grasp, prying your hold from it inch by inch. You let out a soft whine as the leather grip was torn from you and watched the metal clatter to the ground.

But you didn't have the time to mourn the loss of your only weapon, not when your arm was bent backward. Immediately, your free hand shot up, trying to dig your nails into the fingers wrapped around your wrist still.

That was your greatest mistake. With his free hand, the quiet monster immediately reached for both of yours, wrapping them in his palm as quickly as their tail could around your body.

You were kept on your tiptoes as you felt the scales of said tail slither over your skin. Creeping beneath your soles and running up your ankles, squeezing the flesh of your shins firmly together before wrapping around each thigh individually. You kicked and squirmed, but their tail was almost as unrelenting as their hands, and you involuntarily winced as your wrists were squeezed together as if tied by a rope.

"It's true we are not the monster you're trying to defeat," the leaner one claimed again, licking his wound like an injured animal.

"That's our mother," his brother explained curtly, and your head whirled around to him, the questions etched into your face.

"Look at us; we're only half the snake she is."

With an exasperated huff, you looked back and forth between the two, reeling at the revelation. "That's not possible! You... you are a snake with two heads. It's exactly as it's told in our stories!"

"They're not wrong..."

"I mean, she is a literal snake with two heads. And she's gigantic. You should be glad she didn't find you first, or you'd be even less than a small snack for her."

"And our dad is human. Like you."

You must have looked rightfully befuddled as the two went back and forth on their explanation, but once they were done, you could only gulp, unsure what to make of the situation. "So... you're not the monster that demands sacrifices?"

"No."

"Not really."

"Then..." It was hard to form the words that zapped through your mind, your mouth suddenly feeling dry again as the adrenaline sifted from your blood flow. Nothing could rationalize this situation, and you were still strung up by their hands and tail. This almost felt too good to be true, so you had to take your chance as long as you could. "You'll let me go?"

A moment of silence hung over all three of your heads before the brothers slowly ripped their gazes off you to exchange sly smirks. You wobbled as their body—and by extension, yours—set into motion, slithering back to the altar until you were sat down, your back forced to rest on the stone like a lamb to slaughter, hands hanging over the edge above your head and legs still wrapped by their tail.

"Oh, you can't just leave," the lean one purred, coming up from below you and planting his clawed hands firmly on either side of your arms. "The nights get so cold, and the days are so lonely with our mom busy occupying our dad. She never lets us play with him or come back to our home. Won't you keep us company for a while longer? I'm sure you can teach us some things, and we can teach you."

The other settled on the opposite side, still holding your hands in place as he grunted in agreement. You felt the bile rise in your throat as one touch slipped below your line of sight, claw-like nails raking up your thigh and moving beneath your dress. Their intentions got more apparent as the fabric was gripped from above, too, slowly, sensually raising over your skin until the hip strap of your underwear was revealed.

In a last-ditch effort, you tried to struggle once more, legs tugging upwards and kicking at the ever-winding tail while your hands twisted in their hold, causing it to crush down onto your bones even more. That wasn't how you wanted to go down; it wasn't the fight to death you thought you'd have!

"End me, then. Get it over with," you yelled out, laying your head to the side and closing your eyes, the reality too hard to face. Sooner or later, you'd die anyway, and if this were the things you'd have to endure, you'd rather be dead. It wasn't the kind of sacrifice you wanted to be, one defiled and molested before you'd be killed, so you'd rather be dead than witness it.

"Hush now," someone murmured, and you felt a hand sweep underneath your chin, turning your head forward again before tugging it up and over the altar's edge. Your eyes snapped open as your instincts kicked in, but as you opened your mouth to scream, it was quickly covered by another.

A tongue slipped between your opened lips before you could close them, slashing around inside harshly and clogging your throat. There was too much to take, and you gulped down the wetness it brought, sloshing it everywhere to the point it dripped from your lips, running down your face that immediately heated up beneath the fluid. It tasted sweet and even when you wanted to stop, you couldn't, gulping down all that was given to you.

Your body began to relax while you felt a hand drive down the front of your torso, brushing an entire palm over your breast and getting stuck on your nipple. You jolted, a pang of electricity flying to your head and down your spine, your back arching as you couldn't understand what was going on anymore. You had never felt this sensitive before, and as the hand continued to roam from one side to the other, finding the budding nip beneath your dress and twisting it, you let out an unholy moan into the mouth of the monster, your own tongue lashing upwards until it got caught on a sharp fang. Despite not feeling it, you were pretty sure your tongue was ripped open, but even more of the sweet-tasting, addictive stuff dripped from the fang, gushing into your mouth. You gobbled it up, considering you had nothing to drink throughout your journey, and your mind was not getting enough of the taste.

"Considering how quickly you got hooked on our mating fluids, I'd not be surprised if you do end up calling us gods when we're done with you."

You barely heard the voice of the curious onlooker beyond your line of sight, your mind wholly crazed by the liquid that coated all of your mouth and senses. It took almost more work to extract the monster's tongue from your throat than it had putting it inside. Your head followed it upwards, unwilling to part while the drool kept dripping down onto your face.

As you were freed of the kiss, a shameful, miserable sigh of disappointment escaped you, and you barely regained the ability to reply, "Never," in response to what the snake had said. That caused both of them to chuckle, and the sound sent a core-clenching, spine-tingling warmth throughout your body. Your lips quivering as your mind begged for more of that deep rumble cursing through their bodies.

"We'll see about that," the monster from below mumbled as he raked his claws over your thigh. Immediately, you were jolting upwards in their hold, caught between pain and pleasure as he lightly scabbed your skin. It was a small revenge for his own wound, and the scratches burned deliciously as they welcomed the hot air all around you two. "You're already so wet for us."

"It's called sweat," you mewled defiantly, the sound of your voice not befitting your sarcasm. You clenched your legs together, but it was a vain effort with the tail still stuck above your knees, easily prying them open by driving upwards. The scales rubbing over your skin didn't help your misery at all, and you wanted to throw your head against a solid wall with how dizzy and needy you felt. It wasn't you on that altar, but a very distorted version of you, one that wanted to be fucked silly even though what you really wanted was a good fight.

The two laughed at your comment, and you moaned in annoyance at the electricity that sapped through you at the sound of their voices. Your head fell back over the edge, and you came face to face with the more muscular one of the brothers as he lowered himself to your eye level. His eyes raked over your face, then up to your exposed neck just waiting to be bit.

"You're so cute," he mumbled, split tongue darting out again, tasting the air. Your pussy clenched as you wished for that tongue back in your throat or, even better, caressing your quivering folds below that were begging for something to fill their loneliness. The experience was new to you, as you had never wanted intimacy like this with anyone before. You had been so focused on your goals and diligently upholding your parents' rules and traditions that you never craved anyone, but especially not these two beasts.

"I'm not cute," you mewled, closing your eyes and biting your lips as you felt the sharp claws hover above your abdomen, gently stroking the skin below your navel from side to side, your core clenching even harder with pure, undiluted desire. But when the fingers slipped beneath the rim of your underwear, you moaned as you expected them to dip into the wet mess that lay just beneath, the expectation almost enough to send you over the edge.

"Oh, yeah?" the snake-man grinned, and you felt one finger press into your slit, your folds welcoming it warmly and with a shudder going through your body. You quaked in pleasure, eyes blown wide open, and the two fangs of the monster were all more prevalent as his lips split into a toothy smile. "So cute," he doubled down, pulling your arms taut until your body stretched to the last of its capabilities.

With his lips gently brushing against your forearm, you were wholly unprepared for the sharp pain as he dug his fangs deep into your skin. But the shriek quickly turned into a moan, your hips grinding against the finger probing at your entrance as more of the aphrodisiac went straight into your bloodstream. You watched the dark fluid drip off your arm, causing even more heat to spread where it flowed, and you were mercilessly whining as you couldn't move your hips nearly enough to satisfy your needs.

"Please," you snapped upwards, staring at the creature settled on top of the altar next to you, leisurely rubbing his hand along your pussy.

"There goes the begging," he reminded you, and you bit your lip to the point of hurting yourself.

Fuck, that wasn't what you wanted to say. It wasn't how you wanted to die, you never intended to let it get this far. Pathetic, pathetic, absolutely pathetic. You were a fucking warrior, you fought threats and hunted prey, you were not going to surrender to them—

"Fuck!" you gasped out loud this time as one digit slipped inside you. You felt it hook inside your pussy, slowly dragging out despite being clung to firmly by your insides. All the faster did he push it inside again, every joint that buried inside you made you arch your back and rejoice. You nearly avoided being scratched open inside, purely by how slick your pussy and his hand were by now, more fluids gushing out as he pulled his finger from you again and again.

Simultaneously, another digit curled down, fondling the heated folds until it pressed down on your clit, forcing a mewl from you. Fangs tore out of your skin, but you barely noticed as the two fingers united, taking up more space inside of you and scissoring your walls apart until you felt your pussy gaping and drooling obscenely.

"I'll not... submit," you stammered between bated breaths. "I'll not... be your plaything."

"And we wouldn't want it any other way," they chimed in unison, exchanging a satisfied glance before grinning.

"Mom always said to look out for the feisty ones."

"We just didn't think you'd come to meet us so soon."

"Or that you'd be this fun to play with."

Your whole body shuddered as both fingers were pulled out of your terribly needy hole. Your breath was almost non-existent, the lack of air only stimulating you more as you heard the sloppy sounds of your wet pussy letting go of the monster's fingers. A hand slipped beneath your head, helping you to hold it up as you watched the leaner brother lifting his pointer and middle finger to his face, split tongue lapping out to taste your slick pulling strings in the gaps while maintaining eye contact with you all throughout it.

"They're perfect," he purred as he looked up, stretching his arm towards his brother, who leaned forward to have his taste of you from his brother's fingers.

"Damn, that's sweet," he commented too on your fluids, licking them from his lips as he looked down at you in a mix of surprise and awe.

"And so pretty, too."

You felt their eyes in the same way their claws had raked over your body. Hungrily, with the intention to harm you. And yet, your hole kept gaping, needing more stimulation, wanting more. You were the pitiful prey you kept denying you were, but it seemed that in their eyes, you were so much more than that.

"Our little fighter," the one at your side murmured, stretching upwards to hover beside your face.

"Are you not even finishing what you started?" you spit, your venom not nearly as effective when your voice sounded as if you were drugged and disgruntled.

"Oh, I will, little fighter. We're going to make sure you can take us before spreading you on our cocks and make you cry out in pleasure until you call us "god". But before that, you have to be good and let us take you to our nest. Bonding will take so much time, and you are much too vulnerable out here."

"Fuck you," you grunted, trying to elbow him, but your arm barely moved.

"Keep it up," he grinned. "Wouldn't want you to give up too easily. Breaking you in is part of the fun."

"You're a fucking monster after all."

The snakes hummed thoughtfully as you were finally pulled off the table. Instead of being dragged by your arms or wrapped in their tail, however, you were slung over the bigger brother's shoulder, feeling his hand immediately settle beneath your asscheek, not so subtly poking at your pussy with his claw.

"Let me go!" you demanded weakly, your sore hands pounding pitifully into his shoulder.

"And miss out on all this fun? I don't think so," the leaner brother answered.

"Mother told us you can't go back anyway," the one carrying you added, throwing salt into the wound. They were right, but that didn't mean you'd go down so easily, even if your legs were still quivering and your head throbbing with need. "They'll kill you on sight, won't they? And then they'll return you to the altar so we can eat you."

A hand clasped around your jaw, claws digging into your cheeks as your head was lifted to face the leaner brother. "You know we prefer a different taste," he grinned, and you felt your anger rise again together with the shame of his implication. Collecting your saliva and some of the residues of the aphrodisiac, you spit them into his face, not caring whatsoever what that meant for you.

The snake-man scrunched up his face, quickly wiping it away. "Save your drool," he snarled, and you grinned victoriously despite the clasp he held your face in.

But as if on cue, a large palm flattened against your ass, and you jolted forward on the shoulder, eyes blown wide open as you gasped. You couldn't believe it as the wave of pleasure finally crashed into your rockfest resolution, your toes curling upwards and your eyes rolled back, your orgasm hitting you harder than even the slap had.

"Oh, god," you whispered breathlessly while riding the high of pleasure and shame as you felt your juices leaking even through your panties, dripping and running down the body of the other stronger brother.

"Seems like you finally get it, sacrifice," the guy in front of you noted, brushing his thumb over your lips, which opened automatically to his beckoning.

"Let's go, brother," he urged. "Seems our little fighter needs just a bit more convincing as to why they'll love being ours. I can't wait to make their belly swell with our clutch, just like Mother has always told us."

"We're lucky we found a mate so quickly," the other agreed, and you let out a defeated huff, no more words to counter them with coming to your dazed thoughts.

Their tail set into motion, scales slithering over stone, while your mind drifted off, the aphrodisiac having too much of a hold on your conscience for you to be rid of it quickly. You were going to be taken by the monsters, and if you thought you were helpless before, your body now barely felt like it belonged to you. It was as if you weren't its master anymore, but that drug and those snakes were. You could only shiver, even though the air was getting hotter the closer you three got to the volcano, wondering if you at least fulfilled your duty as a sacrifice.

And when that duty would finally end.

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imagining-in-the-margins · 12 days ago

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CM Wrong Recipient Writing Challenge 🎁

Hey everyone, I’m back with another monthly challenge! For the months of November AND December, I am formally challenging any willing writer to take a stab at writing fanfiction including a Wrong/Mistaken Recipient using their choice of Criminal Minds characters! Reader, Original Character, Character/Characterships, Gen/Platonicfics are allowed! Please check out the Rules below the Keep Reading.

There are a LOT of prompts below the cut, so keep going!

(**This is NOT a request list for me—this is a prompt list of other writers! Feel free to request from someone else, and be sure to let them know about the challenge!)

SFW Prompts 🙈

The BAU arrests the wrong person

The flower delivery guy really messes things up

Character grabs the wrong person to kiss at NYE

Character leaves a voicemail for the wrong person

Character grabs the wrong person’s hand in public

Character receives an awkward text from an unknown number (or one they haven’t spoken to in a long time)

Character throws a snowball at their friend… but misses (and hits their crush/an attractive stranger instead)

Talking to different people on multiple phone lines can get really confusing

Somehow Character got on someone's super silly Christmas Card mailing list

There’s a mixup of notebooks and Character finds writings/drawings... of them

Character receives a package they weren't expecting and finds an even more unexpected item inside

The team recounts all the times Penelope said something inappropriate to the wrong person on the phone

Character has been sending messages to their loved one after they passed (they never expected a response)

Character pulls a prank against a fun-loving coworker, but their significantly less playful coworker triggers it

Character leaves an anonymous letter confessing their love, but the recipient insists it can’t be for them

Character enlists Penelope’s help in hacking into someone’s device to delete an unintended message

Anything else you can think of!

Keep Reading for more Prompts and the Challenge Rules!

Dialogue Prompts 🙉

“Oh, God. Wrong house.”

“New phone, who’s this?”

“So… who is (intended recipient name)?”

“Baby, I can be whoever you want me to be.”

“Any chance we can pretend you didn’t see that?”

“No matter what you do, do NOT open that.” “Too late.”

“I’m not complaining, but I don’t think that was for me.”

“What’s the point of the unsend button if it tells them that I unsent something?!”

“This is definitely the wrong number but, seriously, did you think that line would work?”

“I actually can come to the phone right now with a very special message that your mother is a—!”

NSFW Prompts 🙊

Character is a stripper at the wrong party

Character receives scandalous selfies from a coworker

Characters buy books together but take the wrong ones home (at least one of them is erotica)

Character wanted to gift a friend a sex toy as a joke and they used the same wrapping paper for their crush’s gift

Character sends their friend a detailed review of their recent sexual encounter… and accidentally sends it to the person they’re reviewing

There’s confusion and two BAU members end up with the same hotel room (Character walks in to find their coworker completely nude)

Character is waiting for an unsub in a confessional booth (the unsub doesn't show, but someone else confesses unholy thoughts)

Rules

Your fic can be a Reader insert, an Original Character, a character/character ship, a platonic ship, or a Gen fic. It can feature any Criminal Minds character. AUs and crossovers are more than welcome.

Tag me in the fic, or send the link to me in a Direct Message. It can be already written, or you can write it for the challenge - I collect both! You can also tag “#mentioningmargins”

The fic can be any genre, but ONLY send me smut if your bio states you are 18+. I DO NOT WANT smut written by minors. Ever. At all. I will check. Platonic ships and pure, fluffy fics are 100% allowed. Please also include some indication of rating if it is NSFW.

Please include Content Warnings and a one-sentence Summary of the fic in your post. For xReader fics, PLEASE specify if your reader is Female, Male, or Gender Neutral.

Have fun!

The Masterlist of fics will be posted around December 30 If you finish after that, no problem - just send me the fic once you’re done and I’ll add it after-the-fact!

Feel free to message me if you want help developing a plot, have any questions, or just want to gush about your fic. I’m happy to help, and I’m happy you’re here ❤️

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds smut #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #penelope garcia #derek morgan #jennifer jareau #david rossi #luke alvez #tara lewis #matthew simmons

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mrpenguinpants · 1 year ago

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Turning Red

— He's always so serious that they can't help but wonder what kind of emotions he's hiding underneath. Good thing you're around.

— Dan Heng, Gepard, Blade + Jing Yuan

Slight spoilers for Xianzhou and Kafka's companion quest.

[Masterlist]

I've fallen into the Honkai train, but here we are. Also, I know Jing Yuan doesn't fit this prompt but I like him so who cares.

Dan Heng

"Dan Heng! We need one more person to play Celestial Jade!" March hollars down the hallway only to receive no response. It makes her pout, biting the inside of her cheek as she taps her foot restless against the floor, "If you don't come soon then I'll be the one in trouble you know!"

Again no response...

She's checked his room and the archives, and yet no sign of the man. The Express is only so big so surely he didn't wander off somewhere outside right? Maybe you know where he is? Dan Heng seems to talk to you more than he does with her, so maybe he gave you a heads-up that he was going somewhere? It's not a solid plan, but it's a plan nonetheless so she marches her way to your room.

"Hey, have you seen Dan Heng anywh-" March starts as she opens your door only to stop mid-sentence since the eyes of the very man she was looking for are staring right back at her. "Ah. Oops."

Her eyes slowly trail down from his and ah- she understands why he was missing. You're curled up around him, arms haphazardly laid across his waist while your head is cushioned by his chest. Dan Heng doesn't seem to find your sleeping position bothersome, if anything it looks like he's trying to slowly nudge you closer without waking you up. One hand is on his phone, probably typing away on the databank, while the other is curled around your waist. His chin rests on top of yours contentedly as his white and turquoise coat is used as a mock blanket, leaving him in the black turtle neck.

Dan Heng looks like he's about to say something but you shift and mumble something in your sleep and they both go still. Scared that they may have accidentally woken you up and the Express doesn't have enough space for March to run and hide from Dan Heng but thankfully, you seem to settle down and return to your dreams. Thus, March and Dan Heng are locked in a staring contest before she slowly reaches into her back pocket without breaking eye contact.

"Don't you dare," Dan Heng whispers as loud as he dares, although his pink cheeks don't do anything to make him look intimidating.

"Oh, I think I dare," she grins too widely as she raises her camera, making sure it's on silent before she starts to bombard her gallery with a pink Dan Heng because he can't stop her unless he gets up. The most he can do is turn his face away but it shows the world his red ears. Once she's satisfied, she's sticking her tongue out and darts out of the room. She expects that two things will happen. Dan Heng will hunt her down and make her delete the pictures, but not before she sends them all to him. As soon as the door closes and March walks down at the end of the hallway she let her mini explosion commence because Geez! That was so cute! Who knew Dan Heng could be so adorable! Why can't she have that with someone special, this isn't fair!!

Gepard

Gepard Landau. The prestigious young captain of the Silvermane Guards who belongs to the noble Landau family. A personality of righteousness, a good family background, and on top of that he sure has a pretty face. The absolute perfect man.

What a boring guy.

That's the only thought that runs through Sampo's mind as he observes the blond hair man talking to his subordinate from a distance. The two of you are supposed to be on break - he knows this because it makes the other Silvermane Guards more relaxed so it's easier for him to run around - and yet Gepard has his back straight and looks as if he's never heard of what a day-off is. What a shame that those pretty blues only have eyes for reports.

"This part here has been causing some issues for our intelligence team," he hears the subordinate say and Sampo's eyes shift to you. He's heard of you before although not as much as Gepard. A simple errand girl who frequently moves between the Silvermane Guards and the Neverwinter Workshop to deliver messages and supplies. Nothing incredibly remarkable but you're a kind person who keeps to themselves. Sampo thinks you and him could get along if you didn't hang around Gepard so often.

"Let me see..." Gepard mumbles and leans down closer to read the fine print before you turn your head to the side and plant a small kiss on his cheek. Despite the cute gesture, Gepard doesn't change or make any expression. He simply steps back into a polite distance, a hand coming up to loosen his collar as he clears his throat, before reprimanding you on workplace-appropriate jokes. You don't seem to take offense to his lack of response, just adorably hiding your smile behind your paper before waving goodbye to the Captain. Meanwhile, Sampo is coughing violently behind his fist because what the hell was that? So much build-up only for a lackluster ending? As a man of the dramatics, it's too much for him.

"Seriously, there's nothing fun about this guy," Sampo sighs, shrugging his shoulders as if to console himself. He's about to turn and leave but the rushed clinking of armor has him looking back at the Captain.

"Seriously..." Gepard mutters before hiding his face behind his hand. Even from this distance, Sampo can see how red the Captain's ears have gotten just from a simple cheek kiss.

Blade

Kafka thinks you're cute. Really cute.

Everyone in the Stellaron Hunters hides their true emotions behind multiple masks and it's refreshing to meet someone who wears their heart on their sleeve. Although it could also be because you're incredibly bad at hiding your feelings. Even if Kafka wasn't as skilled as she is with reading people, you do a piss poor job. Still, it's fun for her and that's the important part.

"Oh? Back so soon?" Kafka greets you as you step out of the alleyway. Even if your face isn't plastered across the Xianzhou like Kafka's and Blades, it wouldn't look good to be seen conversing with them. Plus you rather like being able to walk in broad daylight without the fear of the Cloud Knights chasing you down to slap some cuffs on you.

"Yes ma'am. We can depart when you're ready," you salute and she can't help but laugh at your cute mannerism. It makes you falter the slightest bit but you hold your pose.

"Good. Good. It must have been hard to pilot a ship so close to the Xianzhou without being detected. Especially given," she makes a gesture at Blade, "recent events."

You only nod at her hidden meaning before she's suddenly stepping into your personal space. You can only make a small noise before her arm is wrapped around your waist pulling you closer to her, and you pointedly ignore how her chest is pressed against yours, and her other hand raises your chin until your lips brush against hers. With her so close, she can see the pink in your cheeks growing and how tense your body is against hers. Your eyes dart from her down to her lip before catching yourself and instead looking behind her. It's cute.

"Would you like a reward?" she whispers next to your ear.

"Don't tease so much."

"Oh," Kafka blinks twice, turning her head to her companion as she lets go of your chin so she can press her fingertips against her mouth like one of those posh ladies when they find out about the latest gossip, "how out of character Bladie."

He doesn't dignify her with a response, just closes his eyes and goes back into his meditation. His face fell into that perfect stone that she could have imagined that he spoke. But those piercing eyes carving their way into her bones are unmistakable that even if they are closed, she still feels watched. But she relents and drops her arms around you before sending you off back to the ship. They'll join you soon.

"That's interesting," Kafka muses, she rolls her fingers as thin magenta strings appear before being flicked away with her wrist. Blade shouldn't be able to register anything but herself and yet, he seemed to notice you.

Jing Yuan

Yanqing has the sneaking suspicion that his General is sneaking off to slack off again. While he knows Jing Yuan is incredibly busy and he tends to do things discreetly, this getting far too strange. The General always has a complacent smile, but recently, it's been a tiny bit more genuine every time he waltzs in. For someone so tall, at least in Yanqing's opinion, he's able to slip past everyone and it's impossible to get in contact with him until he suddenly appears hours later. Yanqing would know, he's blasted the General's phone only to receive a cute emote and a "Surely my lieutenant is more than suitable for this, no?". Does it make Yanqing swell with so much pride that he forgets about Jing Yuan slacking off, maybe, but that's beside the point.

"General, what exactly are you doing in your... "off time"," Yanqing words slowly, unsure of what he was asking is considered a pry into Jing Yuan's personal life and if he will get upset with him.

"You're making it sound as if I'm doing something depraved during this "off time"," Jing Yuan chuckles at how fast Yanqing turns pink at his implications. Yanqing's hands quickly come up in a placating nature as he shakes his head so hard that his ponytail smacks against the wall.

"N-Not at all General! I was just curious- but you don't need to answer if it's something important!" Yanqing struggles through his words but luckily, Jing Yuan doesn't seem to take offense. If anything, he finds it amusing as he rubs Yanqing's head like an overactive puppy. It makes Yanqing huff and shoos away the offending hand before crossing his arms, expectantly waiting for an answer.

"It's not anything that needs to be kept as a secret. I'm simply taking a walk around Xianzhou to distress. You should take some time to do so as well, training every single day without a break will only lead to weary bones and stiff muscles," Jing Yuan advises which Yanqing nods carefully along to. Although Yanqing's eyes drift from the General's eyes to mouth, he seems more...softer around the edges? Even though he's the only one here, it looks like Jing Yuan is speaking to someone else through him.

"Are you sure you're not doing something indecent?" Yanqing deadpans to which the General laughs. He reaches over to ruffle his disciple's hair again before crossing them behind his back and walking ahead. Seriously, Yanqing thinks as he fixes his hair back into place, he can never get a good read on his General.

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momojedi · 7 months ago

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Could I have #88 and #97 with Captain Rex, pretty please...??

JUST MARRIED PAIRING: Captain Rex x GN! Reader

#88 | “Don’t panic but I think we might have accidentally gotten married…” #97 | “I want you and I know you want me too.”

GENRE: Fluff WARNING: none A/N: Since I got prompted #88 by an anon who asked for no one in particular, I mixed up your request with theirs. Thanks for requesting!

MASTERLIST | MOMOJEDI'S 300 FOLLOWER CELEBRATION

"Mhi solus tome,

Mhi solus dar’tome.

Mhi me’dinui an,

Mhi ba’juri verde."

Intense concentration furrows my brow as I massage my temples, striving to translate the unfamiliar words. "For fuck's sake," I mutter, frustration punctuating each syllable as I kick a nearby pebble with surprising strength, eliciting a muffled groan and the metallic clang of beskar as it ricochets off a distant helmet.

Two weeks may not seem long, especially when operating undercover among a terrorist faction whilst the galaxy is engulfed in war. It would probably be advisable to keep a cool head and avoid making a big deal out of insignificant subjects—such as unfamiliar phrases. However, when those words escape the lips of your longtime crush, delivered with an unexpected fervor while locking passionate eyes with you in a language foreign to your ears...

Well, needless to say, I've devoted more time to overthinking it than I care to admit.

When General Skywalker tasked us with shadowing Death Watch until the Jedi Council reached more intel, I hadn't given it much thought... admittedly, he hadn't specified that by "us" he didn't mean Ahsoka and me, as usual, but rather the captain of the 501st and myself—the very someone I've harboured feelings for since the day we met.

Nevertheless, I maintained my composure, played my part, and stayed under the radar, much like Rex, until Death Watch proposed an elaborate ceremony—a ceremony whose name I could barely pronounce, let alone understand its significance. Before any suspicion could arise, Rex quickly agreed in my place, and now here I am, entangled in some eerie ritual with a military captain whose gaze seemed entranced, so intense was his focus.

"If I had my datapad right now...," I hiss under my breath, casting blame on whoever decided I should leave my sole translation device behind. Likely Skywalker.

The crunch of gravel under heavy boots interrupts my daydreaming. I spin around sharply, only to find the very man haunting my mind approaching. "I figured I'd find you here," Rex hums as he settles beside me. "Yeah," I reply with a dry laugh, brushing the dust off my hands. "Sorry, I suppose I just needed... alone time. After everything yesterday, you know?" Rex's eyes widen almost comically, and he sheepishly scratches the back of his neck. "Oh... yeah."

The ensuing silence gnaws at my nerves, prompting me to pop the question after another agonising five minutes. "Hey, about that... what did those words mean, anyway?" "I'm not sure what you're referring to," Rex responds, avoiding my gaze. I gulp. He can't have forgotten, can he? "Come on, Rex... It seemed significant." After a moment's hesitation, Rex sighs, running a hand over his buzzcut before raising his head to face me, though still evading it. "I..." "Yes?" "Alright, fine. [Name], don't panic, but... we might have accidentally... gotten married."

...

"WHAT?"

"Shh!" Rex quiets me with a gentle hand over my mouth, his eyes darting cautiously around us before he releases me. I shake my head slowly, puzzled. "Sorry, but what?" "The, um, the words... they were Mandalorian wedding vows," he admits, his tone tinged with uncertainty. I can't help but laugh. Married? Us? "You're joking." "Unfortunately not," he replies, a slight smile tugging at his lips, before his expression shifts to sheepishness as he rubs the back of his neck. "Though I do believe you'd make an excellent partner." Suppressing a chuckle, I ignore the warmth creeping into my cheeks.

"Actually, I realized we needed a distraction when I overheard some members gossiping behind our backs. They were growing suspicious, so I thought perhaps they'd relax if we participated in some traditions." Rex sighs, examining a pebble he's picked up. I shoot him a hopeful sidelong glance before quickly looking away, feeling my heart quicken.

Force, this man is captivating.

Silence envelops us once more as we both drift deeper into our own thoughts. When I sense the gravel shifting under his weight, I raise an eyebrow. "It wouldn't bother me, you know?" A lump forms in my throat, causing a series of coughs to escape at his words. "Wh-what?" "Being with you." Suddenly, his warm yet weighty hand finds mine. Sweat prickles at my heated skin as I keep my gaze fixed ahead.

"R-rex, are you suggesting...?" "[Name]," he interrupts, turning to face me. Before I can evade his gaze, he gently lifts my chin, compelling me to meet his eyes. I run my tongue over my dry lips, which his gaze is now fixated on. "I want you. And I know you want me, too." His proximity sends shivers down my spine as goosebumps ripple over my arms and back. His newfound confidence is palpable. "I've noticed the way you look at me, how you stare. I know, [name]," he murmurs against my lips, "what do you think?"

I flush, gripping his wrist as I lock eyes with his warm gaze. "I think you're right." Rex chuckles deeply, resonating like a rumble in his chest. "Good." And before I realize it, his lips meet mine,

Time seems to slip away as I surrender completely to the kiss. Eventually, Rex pulls back, leaving me breathless, and flashes me a mischievous grin.

“So, about that wedding night…”

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flamingpudding · 1 year ago

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Fictober23 Prompt: 7 - "Do you recognise this?"

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: G

Warnings: -

"So, who did it?" Bruce asked, eyes narrowed at the children before him. Clark was next to him trying once more to persuade Bruce that it was unnecessary to go after the kids like this.

The 'kids' in question were the assembly of three of his children, Clark's child and clone and a couple of their respected friends.

"Father, I do not know what you are talking about." Damian piped up offended and crossed his arms. Next to him Jon scratched the back of his head in mild confusion and Dani despite not knowing what was going on but still glaring in defiance at Bruce.

"If this is about our prank war it was definitely not necessary to interrogate our friends too." Tim added looking every bit like he would be somewhere else than here. Kon and Bart were with him. Kon looked rather unsure while Bart had gone and gotten himself popcorn for whatever was going to happen.

"Look old man, how was I supposed to know Replacement would trigger the glitter bomb inside the Batmobile. I already cleaned that up!" Jason put in his two cents, Roy eyeing the other with a raised eyebrow.

Bruce stared at them quietly, not saying a word as Clark continued to fuss next to him to not make it a big deal and that a deep clean would surely fix everything.

"It's not your prank war I am talking about. Alfred will deal with you about the chaos you caused." The three respected batkids swallowed audibly while their friends chuckled. "No, what I am asking is which one of you decided it was a good idea to dye Clark's hero suit and my cape pink."

"Wait, someone actually did that to Dad?!" Jon piped up wide eyed as Dani broke out laughing causing Damian to eye the ghost girl with narrowed eyes and suspicion.

"Who would…" Tim started but didn't finish as his mind came up with possible suspects. Kon on Bart next to him went onto their phones, trying to search up pictures of Superman in a pink hero suit.

Jason and Roy broke out laughing too, voicing their respect to whoever managed to do that.

Bruce's eye twitch at the children's reaction. He then proceeded to pull out an opened can of pink dye and placed it on the table in perfect view of everyone. "Do you recognise this? Jason? Tim?"

"WHY ME?!" They both cried out in protest and Bruce narrowed his eyes on the two. "Jason, your last prank on Tim involved a glitter bomb with pink dye, the Batmobile's seats are still strained pink. Tim, you dyed Damian's shirts pink a couple days ago at the beginning of your prank war."

"So it was you Drake! You are going to pay for this!"

"And I will do it again if you ever touch my laptop again, Demon Brat!"

"How does that even prove that one of us did it!"

"It doesn't!"

"Do you think there might be someone else that fell victim to the pink dye in the JL?"

"Maybe?"

"Why would someone even go after Clark? He has nothing to do with our prank war."

"Jason, my friend. You are indirectly admitting that you would dye Batman's cape pink."

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose as the children before him (he ignored that at least two of them were over 20, they were children period) started to argue among themselves while Damian's newest friend the Daughter of Phantom, who recently joined the Justice League Dark, was by now rolling on the ground laughing.

Not far from the interrogation Danny sat by a table next to Alfred snacking on some of the best cookies he had ever gotten to eat. He had originally come by to hang out with Tim, Kon and Bart but now he was threaded to some A+ entertainment, Dani was clearly enjoying.

"You recognize the can, don't you Mr. Daniel? I believe you accidentally left it behind in the cave." Danny side eyed the butler next to him and grinned into his next bite of a cookie. "Supes deserved it."

The man hummed and Danny smiled as he was offered another cookie. "I believe I know why but would you please elaborate on why Master Bruce also got targeted? I will most likely be the one who will have to wash out the cape."

The half ghost didn't say anything at first before shrugging. "Kon wasn't the only one who deserved some Justice for how he had been treated in the past. I know they get along now but still… a little pay back for past mistreatment wouldn't hurt anyone right?"

"Ah, so it was for Mr. Conner and Master Jason." The butler smiled in understanding, pushing over a box of take away cookies to Danny. "May I suggest that next time you seek out justice for the boy, that there are other -embarrassing- ways to achieve it."

Danny only gave the man a feral grin as he hopped off the chair with the box in hand. It was time to release the children of Bruce's interrogation. He would just put the blame on Constantine somehow, like a spell gone wrong instead of actual dye being the cause. The man owned him anyway since he had gotten most of his soul back aside from a couple of pieces he was still negotiating over in the Ghost Zone.

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twinksrepository · 9 months ago

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Dante NSFW Alphabet

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only)

CW: Smut, clothing kink, sexual objectification, restraints, toys, periods, heck a lot of things that come with this sort of post. All I can promise for certain is there isn't any physical abuse.

A/N: Alrighty, the other half of me trying to pin down Dante. I wish I could really pin him down. But enjoy the NSFW version of my Dante headcanon Alphabet.

You can find the SFW one here.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

After fucking you senseless Dante wants to cuddle for a few moments first, to enjoy the way your blissed out body is curled against his as your chest heaves and your body is boneless from the multiples rounds. Afterwards, he’s happy to do his best to clean you up, holding a water bottle to your lips and whispering how amazing you are with his chin in your hair while his free hand rubs along your sore muscles. Whatever you need he’s more than willing to help with.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Dante is a fan of his thighs and your hands. He loves to have you sitting on his thigh and rolling you back and forth as he has you come just from the thickness of his leg rubbing against you. He knows just how thick they are from years of working out. As for your hands, feeling them roam across his body with the softer skin and just how much smaller they are compared to his. So when both of your hands are wrapped around his cock it feels even bigger seeing your fingers barely able to touch as you pump him. It gets him hard just thinking about your soft hands on him.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Dante likes nothing more than to see you covered in his cum, to see as the streams of opaque fluid trail along your body and pool in the dips of your skin. After blowing a load across your stomach or shapely rear and taking his hand and smearing it around your skin watching it glisten and the soft whines you make while he does so. What really gets him going is after he cums deep inside your cunt and pulls out to watch as it drips out of your flushed folds and onto whatever surface he was fucking you on. It gives him another raging hard on wanting to pump another load in your core so he can watch the same sight again and again.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He’ll never tell you but after the first time he used his devil trigger accidentally while he was balls deep inside of you and the way you reacted? It made something in him snap seeing you pant and squirm even harder under his body as you tried to pull his length deeper inside your core. The way your hands landed on the side of his face as you kissed him like you were possessed while your cunt tried to drain his balls made him even more enamored with you. It was what prompted him to ask if the two of you could have sex like that more often since it was the best sex he’d had in years.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Dante has lots of experience, he’s had more than one one night stand in his life. Someone as good looking as him in his younger years had no problems picking up, even with his bad luck with women. Those magazines of his have also had more than one tip for him to use in the bedroom. Once you came along though all that experience was put to good use, and he always seems to have a new idea for something to leave you screaming his name through the act.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Dante is good with any position but his all time favorite is without a doubt doggy style. Having you on your hands and knees while he plunges into your core watching your back arch as you whine. His hands wrapped around your waist and using it like a handle to thrust into you at a neckbreak pace. Slapping your ass as he fucks you senseless until you can barely keep yourself up. Your favorite position by comparison is deep missionary so your legs are up wrapped around his hips and your bodies closely intertwined, watching his face as he hits deeply inside of you. Your chests writhing against one another as the sweat drips down along your bodies with your faces close together.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

It is Dante. His mood when he’s having sex could go in any direction and it’s not like he sticks to it as he is a more fluid guy when it comes to that. If you make a joke during sex he is running with it to the point where you regret saying anything.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

The carpet definitely matches the drapes. While he doesn’t have much of a happy trail there is a patch of white hair around the base of his dick and dusting his balls. He doesn’t do much grooming, but he doesn’t let it grow too thick since he does find it kind of annoying. He enjoys having just enough so when you’re sucking him off he can hold you against his crotch and see your nose buried in the tangle of hairs.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Well when it comes down to it when it comes down to the intimacy part of it for Dante, the moment he opens his mouth it’s a flop. The man just can’t verbalize it in words as his attempts come off as cheesy or just the wrong thing. Telling someone how much you want to watch them squirm on their cock with intense eye contact comes off as horny not intimate. Now on the more physical side of things? That’s a different story. Even when he’s ramming into you as if he wants to break your hips there’s a soft brush of his lips against your skin or a tender caress of his fingers along your face. Depending on the position, leaning on his forearm to keep his weight off you but still having that close physical contact and that intense eye contact that tells you how much he cares for you. He just can’t open his mouth. Seriously.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Before your relationship got going you were his favorite little daydream, envisioning the way you’d feel wrapped around his cock. Letting the image dominate his head while he jerked himself off, wondering if as his cum left if his nuts if you’d spit or swallow. If he thought once the two of you did start doing it on a regular basis would help his libido, he was wrong. Finding himself using his fist more and more as it took just the thought of your ass in front of him made him rock hard and it was damn hard to slice up demons with a raging boner.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

This man has a clothing kink. Having you wrapped in his red coat and nothing else while he uses his hands, his fingers, a toy or his cock while wearing his signature clothes. It has his inner demon and his human side both humming in pleasure to see you draped in something that is very much his while your eyes roll back in your skull. Almost like a mark of ownership that has him licking his lips.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

As much as Dante doesn’t like people seeing him being soft, tender, or well anything in public his favorite place to fuck you is in the middle of the devil may cry office. His desk in fact. Having you wrapped in his jacket and bouncing you up and down on his cock, or tucked under the desk out of sight on your hands and knees while he’s balls deep in your cunt. He might try and deny that he doesn’t want to get caught and sure as hell doesn’t want anyone but him seeing you naked or cuming, but the idea of someone walking in on him does get him feeling that little bit of an extra adrenaline rush.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

It does not take much to get Dante motivated. Seeing your butt is always a surefire way to get him hard as Dante is without a doubt an ass man. There are other things that get turned on as well, soft little noises you might make while walking around the office or sitting in your bedroom. When he hears those low pants or sighs of yours it sends a signal straight to his dick that it is go time. He’s not immune to any seductive tactics on your part, like leaving a trail of your clothes to the bathroom after he has a mission to make sure he has a shower and a few rounds of sex to help you both relax.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Dante does not like being dominated in the bedroom. He might let you ride him, but even then he’s the one in control. It has nothing to do with trust, he simply doesn’t like being at someone else's mercy. The idea of being tied up, or having to beg for something turns him off faster than being sprayed with a hose of ice cold water.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

When it comes to oral Dante is a fan of both giving and receiving and a fan of 69, knowing that he can try to push you over the edge while you’re choking on his dick is something he enjoys. He likes giving to since it means he can have your legs wrapped around his head and having your thighs right there for him to mark up is hard for him to ignore. It’s one of his favorite forms of foreplay getting you prepped for him, he’s not an idiot either, he likes receiving too. Having you on your knees and drooling all over him? Yeah, he’s a fan. Oddly enough his skills are damn good but… it’s from eating pizza that’s been way too hot and trying to keep from burning his tongue. At least you get to take advantage of how adept he is at moving the thing around.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Dante likes it rough. He likes turning you into a panting screaming mess as he rams into you with enough force to leave bruises. Part of it is he doesn’t always know his own strength and the other part is he likes seeing what you can handle. His intention is never to cause you pain but damn does he love to snap his hips against your body hard enough that you jolt from it. He can be sensual if he wants but it’s hard for him, because feeling your tight walls wrapped around his cock and wanting to feel you squeeze his length when you cum isn’t something he can always hold himself back from. If it’s something you want he will try, try being the operative word.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Dante isn’t the biggest fan of quickies. If he has one it’s more because of a need that neither of you can put off. He’d much rather take his time with you since he knows he can go for multiple rounds and he’d prefer that when the two of you are done he can leave you in a boneless puddle.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Risk themselves aren’t in his forte in the sense of public or semi public sex. Not to say he’d be totally against the idea of banging you against a tree in a city park late at night, but it’s not in the forefront of his mind. Experimenting in the bedroom he is a fan of though, as long as he gets to keep his control. You wanna try temperature play? He’s down, have ice placed on both of your skin. Rutting into you from behind while the two of watch yourself in the mirror and try to get better at dirty talk? Fuck yea. Dante will try anything once and if it doesn’t work out? Move on. If it does and you both really enjoy it, it gets added to the list of likes.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Sorry hips, Dante can go, and go, and go. I mean all that muscle and demonic strength does dip into his stamina in every sense of the word. If he could have a marathon session of sex with you, you’d need to have your body in a cast because Dante would break you before he was out of steam. As for how long he can last? It all depends on what he’s doing. If it is the rare quickie it’s still ten minutes or so before he’s blowing load and from the start he’s trying to cum. He has to put effort into cuming quickly, which he does find annoying since seeing you covered in his cum is one of his favorite things.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He didn’t own toys before you. What was the point of a pocket pussy when he’d break them after using them once before of how rough he was with the plastic? After you though? He likes bullet vibrators that can be placed between the two of you, or ones he can hold after you cum to drag out your orgasm until you’re screaming for him to stop. He also didn’t realize how he could use them to help speed up his own orgasms when pressing them to the underside of his balls. Suffice to say, he becomes a fan of them real quick.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Dante is the king of teasing and he is well aware of it. Dragging his mouth, his fingers anywhere but where you want him to be as he riles you up. Or times when he tells you he wants you a panting mess before he even touches you and you agree he can do whatever he wants and takes full advantage. Tying you up so you can’t move and he’s got your spread open for him, tracing one finger along your ribs and watching your chest heave trying to get more of his skin touching yours. It also isn’t beneath him to tie you to one of his devil arms and watch as you’re held there in place with something he uses to protect you also being used to keep you in place until you’re screaming for him to fuck you.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

This man can HOWL when he wants to. He can be loud enough that any traffic down the street from the devil may cry office could hear him. His grunts and groans ring in the air of whatever space the two of you are having sex in, though he does try to keep the volume down by biting into his lip. He doesn’t need to draw more attention to the two of you or bellow your name loud enough for any of his enemies to hear as he empties himself in your tight body.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Dante is way more into period sex than he thought he would be. For a man that sees as much blood as he does, he never thought he’d like seeing his dick covered in it, and he doesn’t like the visual. What has him into it is the added sensation from your body trying to expel the lining, the way you react even more to him as you’re more sensitive with the extra blood flow to the area. Yea, he likes the way you arch your back as if you were snapped in half while your cunt tries to drain his balls.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Dante is about average in length, but he is girthy and covered in veins so he is very fun to trace with your tongue. He also knows how to make great use of his dick to make sure you have a good time regardless as to what the two of you are doing.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

High. This man might be able to put on a face of nonchalant but he is horny all the time and ready to fuck. It sort of surprises you as your relationship with the man gets going and you realize just how high it actually is. The two of you also make a discovery that neither of you is sure how you feel about it. For a while Dante gets to a point where he starts wanting to fucking you harder and harder, bending you like a pretzel to reach as deep inside your slick walls as he can. Turns out his demonic senses can tell when you’re ovulating and it sets off the need in him to breed. Lucky you and good thing you have a damn good birth control.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Sex isn’t the deciding factor in how quickly he falls asleep after, its how his day has been. With his stamina, he’s never as tired as you are afterward. Which works out great for him, because after it’s all said and done if you had been planning to stay the night with him after your both cleaned up (no matter how much be grumbles about it) it means he can watch you fall asleep. He might be a bed hog but he’d rather watch you drift off into slumber before letting himself follow behind you.

nsfw alphabet template

Hope you all had fun reading this.

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