#I also really liked how you could tell what each spell was as it was cast even if they weren’t named! my wizard main self was so excited lol | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

starcrossedmusings · 4 months ago

Text

Pretty Hands

Pairing: best friend!Yunho x f!reader WC: 3.2k Warnings: eventual smut, reader has a thing for Yunho's hands (who doesn't??), swearing, fingering, choking, a little bit of degradation (he compares her to a whore literally once), PRAISE so much praise, Yunho talks reader through it (you're welcome), pov is kinda all over the place just let it be, Yunho is absolutely WHIPPED for reader teehee, probably some other things that I missed (let me know)

Summary: You and Yunho have been friends for years, and you tell each other everything. He suddenly takes a much more vested interest in your love life when you can't stop mentioning your newest interest.

A/N: This is entirely self indulgent and also I just wanted to get something full posted. The Phantom fic is turning out to be much longer than I originally anticipated (and so did this one once I started writing it). Let me know what you think♡

Stepping into Yunho's apartment had always felt like coming home, and today was no exception. You take your shoes off in the tiled entryway and pad your way through the main living area, calling out to him as you walk.

"Yun? I'm here!"

His muffled response flows down from the end of the hall, "Bedroom!"

You make your way through the back hallway and enter his room, finding him exactly where you thought he would be, focused in on his computer. There's a selection of empty drink cans and snack wrappers scattered around his desk, which tells you that whatever he's currently building on Minecraft has probably occupied the majority of his day so far. He pauses the game and turns his chair to face you.

"Whats up?"

"Got bored at home and my roommate isn't even trying to muffle her pornstar moans for her new boy toy."

Yunho barks out a laugh, "Does she seriously sound--"

"Just like it Yun I can't make this shit up. I'm starting to think maybe they're recording themselves in there."

Yunho wiggles his eyebrows as he stretches his arms up and over his head, leaning back in his chair. "Well, if I ever see your living room on Pornhub I'll be sure to let you know"

You crinkle your nose. "Ew. I do NOT need to know that."

"Whatever, don't act like you haven't been talking to me for weeks about how horny you are. If I have to hear about your vibrator dying one more time I'm gonna buy you a new one myself."

"You try getting unintentionally edged three nights in a row with a full charge, it's some bullshit Yun. Besides, I'm allowed to complain about my dry spell."

Yunho scoffs, tone playful and lighthearted. "Dry spell? It's been what? Two months?"

"It's been three thank you very much." You move to sit on his bed.

"Well some of us haven't had sex in much longer."

"Oh, please, that girl that San was messing around with was all over you at his birthday party last month, don't tell me you didn't take that opportunity."

Yunho raises his eyebrows in shock, leaning forward in his chair. "Wait, really?"

"Oh my GOD Yun you are so oblivious. Yes really. She was all giggly and twirling her hair and shit. That's like...girl flirting basics."

"I am not oblivious, I am actually quite observant. I could tell you things about yourself you don't even know. I just have my sights set on someone and that someone is not her."

You shoot him an incredulous look and snort out a laugh, leaning back to lay down completely on his bed, legs dangling off the edge. "Sure Yun, whatever makes you feel better."

You hear Yunho stand from his chair and feel his weight shift onto the mattress. He appears in your vision, a challenging playful sparkle in his eyes as he peers down at you. "Okay, fine. I can tell that you're trying out a new perfume, you just went shopping because your leggings are a different brand than you usually wear, and I know that you washed your hair last night because you're wearing it all the way down today."

You do your best to ignore the way your stomach summersaults at his attention to detail about you and your routines. You roll onto your side and prop your head up on your elbow, matching his challenging gaze. "Okay Sherlock Holmes. What kind of underwear am I wearing then?"

Yunho pauses to consider before responding "a thong, probably black." You grin triumphantly and lean in just a bit closer.

"Wrong. I'm not wearing any. You lose!" You stick your tongue out playfully at him and he swats your shoulder, falling back onto his mattress.

"You set me up!"

"Face it Yun, I'm just better than you."

"Yeah yeah, whatever" Yunho pouts, voice hightening slightly from surprise. He can feel a slight redness creeping up his ears and prays his hair has grown long enough to cover it. 'I'm not wearing any.' He clears his throat. "So why go commando? You finally planning to seduce your new conquest?"

"He is not a new conquest, he doesn't even know I like him."

"He will once he knows you aren't wearing any underwear for him" Yunho jokes, smiling cheekily. You smack at his chest.

"I didn't want to do laundry last night, asshole. Get your mind out of the gutter!"

"You're one to talk" he mutters under his breath.

You sit up fully and reach for one of the pillows at the top of his bed, slamming it down on his face. "Jeong Yunho I swear to god!" On your second swing, he manages to catch the pillow with one hand and pry it from your grasp, but not before giving you an entirely unhelpful image of his long fingers gripping the plush material.

"What?? All I ever hear you talk about lately is how tall and handsome this dude is and how much his hands make you drool."

"You sound jealous."

"I'm not jealous, I'm pissed that I have to hear all about him and don't even get to know what the dude's name is."

"I told you, I'm gatekeeping this time. You run your mouth too much."

"I do not!"

"Do too."

"Ugh FINE whatever," Yunho chucks the pillow back towards you and you dodge it, leaving both pillows on one side of the headboard, "You're so agitating."

"You know you love me Yun. But just for the attitude," You adjust both pillows and shuffle your way back until you're leaned against both of them, "no pillow for you for tonights doomscrolling session."

He huffs a laugh and scoots up to meet you, pulling out his phone and settling in against the headboard.

An hour later you get up to go to the bathroom, and when you get back Yunho has stolen both of his pillows. You frown and cross your arms. "Hey, asshole, those were mine!"

"Yeah?" He taunts playfully, "Well they were mine to begin with, and my back is killing me. So deal." You roll your eyes and cross back over to the bed, crawling over the side you've been sitting on and curling yourself into Yunho's side to rest your head against his chest. You feel him tense slightly underneath you before he moves one of his arms around your shoulders to let you lay more comfortably.

"There's no way in hell I'm sitting up against that cold ass metal frame you call a headboard." You mutter as you begin scrolling. Yunho's chuckle rumbles through his chest and tickles your cheek. You both sit in silence for a while, content to scroll on your phones. Eventually, you turn to look up at him from his chest.

"I meant to ask how your new project has been going. Whatever you were building when I came in looked pretty intense." You can see the faint tinge of red trail up his ears and neck--a telltale sign that whatever you caught him building makes him embarrassed. You sit up, propping your weight on your elbow and placing a hand on his chest to shove him slightly. "Ooooo now you have to tell me what it is!"

"It's embarrassing..."

"Tell me tell me tell me tell me--"

"Okay fine, fuck. I'll tell you if you promise not to laugh--"

"I won't I swear!"

"Pinky promise?" He holds his pinky out to you, and you raise a hand from his chest. Before you can lace your pinky in his, he pulls his hand up above his head. "I'm serious, Y/N, if you laugh I'll have no choice but to tickle you to death."

He's definitely not stalling because he has to come up with a reply, because he certainly hasn't been building a treehouse for you in what he hopes will one day be a shared server. Yunho thinks to himself that he would rather die than let you find out.

You scoff, "I won't laugh...and even if I did I'm not ticklish so your threat is a moot point."

Yunho drops his hand down onto the mattress. "Bullshit."

"It's not. I don't have a ticklish bone in my body."

"Liar."

You shake your head, and Yunho takes the opportunity to gently press the pads of his fingers into the sides of your ribs. The sensation hits you almost immediately, and you feel the tight feeling in your chest as he begins tickling you. You squeal and thrash around in his grasp, trying desperately to get away from his assault.

"Yun stop it--"

"Not until you admit you're a liar!" You begin to giggle and manage to roll away from him, but Yunho is quick to follow. He swings a long leg over your hips and pins you beneath him, a single large hand trapping both of your wrists above your head while the other dances across your ribs. "Admit it," He sings out.

"Okay! Okay fine I'm a liar!" You gasp out between laughter. Yunho beams down at you and immediately stops tickling your sides, leaving you panting underneath him--

Oh fuck...you're panting underneath him.

He can almost feel the shift in the air as he stares down at you. He knows he should move, just roll off of you and make up some bullshit lie about what he was building. You like someone else, and he clearly wasn't getting out of the friend zone any time soon. He's just making a fool of himself...and yet he just can't bring himself to stop memorizing the way you look splayed out beneath his hips. Eventually he forces himself to stop staring at the way your chest rises and falls or the sliver of your tummy that's poking out from underneath your shirt that's riding up. He locks eyes with you.

Your voice comes out softer than he's ever heard you speak before. "Hey Yun?"

"Yeah?"

"You know that mystery guy I've been telling you about? The one with the pretty hands?"

A twinge of annoyance flairs in his stomach and he can't help but grumble out his reply. "Yeah?"

"I'll give you a hint. He's got me pinned to the mattress right now."

Yunho feels his heart drop deep into the pit of his stomach.

"Like...like right now he does?"

You laugh lightly. "Yeah, right now, Yun."

Yunho swallows thickly as his head starts spinning. He leans down much slower than he would have liked to, giving you plenty of time to take it back--to laugh at him and tell him you got him good. He feels like his whole body lights ablaze when you close the final gap between your lips, and suddenly he is kissing you.

In almost any circumstance that you had seen Yunho kissing someone, he was always fast-paced--hot and heavy petting in the corner of a darkened bar, dares in drunken party circles--which is why you were floored at the reverence he was kissing you with now. His mouth was steady and intense against yours, his hands roaming slowly across the expanse of your torso like he was memorizing the feel of something priceless. You gently pull your hands from his grasp and tangle them in his hair, pulling him closer and matching his intensity with your fervor. You feel his hands make their way to the lower hem of your shirt, and your skin erupts in goosebumps as you feel his fingers ghost along the sliver of skin there. He breaks the kiss and you feel his breath fan across your face as he pants. His hands gently make their way to rest just under your shirt, not quite pushing the fabric up. He locks eyes with you.

"Is this okay?"

You chuckle gently. "Yes, Yun, you can touch me. I want you to touch me." You watch his eyes darken and his hands start running up your torso, pulling your shirt up with them.

"Where do you want me to touch you, baby?"

You exhale heavily and arch your back into his touch. "Anywhere...everywhere...I don't care."

Yunho smirks and feels his ego inflate. "You don't care? Hmm..." He starts planting kisses along your jaw and down the side of your neck. Slow. Teasing. "If I remember correctly, you seemed pretty keen about having my hands in some specific places baby. Can you refresh my memory?"

The low whine that escapes your throat nearly sends him spiraling. "You know where...don't make me say it."

He does know, but there's nothing he wants to hear more right now than to hear you say it. He brings one hand up to your chest, cupping one of your boobs and squeezing gently as he continues peppering your neck with kisses. "Was it here? Or..." His hand trails back down and grips your hip possessively, "Here, maybe?" He hears you huff and feels your hand wrap around his wrist. You try to tug it up, and he chuckles softly but allows you to move his hand. He nips your earlobe and asks lowly, "Where do you need my hands baby?" He feels his cock twitch in his sweats when you wrap his fingers around your throat, guiding him to squeeze the sides gently. Your hands run down his chest and drop to your sides as he squeezes a little harder. "Fuck, look at you. So pretty with my hand around your neck."

You whine and buck your hips up, desperately looking for friction. Yunho coos as he looks down at you, wanting to have the image burned into his memory. He adjusts his position so he's sat on one side of you and brings his free hand to your thighs, squeezing the flesh there and watching the way you spread your legs for him. "Pretty girl, I need you to use your words. Spreading your legs like a whore isn't gonna get you what you want." He revels in the way you throw your head back onto the mattress and close your eyes, frustration evident already on your face.

"Need your fingers, Yun. Please."

Holy shit, he could combust right then and there. He smiles and traces his hands along the inside of your clothed thighs. "Good girl. So polite for me." He hooks his fingers in the waistband of your leggings and pulls them down and off, leaving you bare from the waist down. "Sit up for me baby. I want you between my legs."

Yunho sits on the edge of the mattress and allows you time to sit up, moving to sit in between his thighs. He hooks your legs over his, leaving you spread and completely at his mercy. A shiver runs down your spine as the pads of his fingers run across your thighs and you gasp as they brush against your core. He presses kisses into your neck and chuckles, "You're already soaking wet, what's got you all bothered hmm? I've barely touched you..." Yunho hums and teases your entrance with this middle finger. He can feel you clenching. "Do you like my hands that much baby? All it takes is a little choking and you're putty for me." He pushes two fingers inside, pumping slowly and curling back to find your sweet spot. He feels pride flare through his chest at the noise you make, a mix between a whine and a moan that eggs him on.

Your toes curl as Yunho almost immediately finds your g-spot. The pace he sets is almost perfect, and when he begins rubbing tight circles on your clit your eyes roll back into your head. The pleasure is a building wave, and it's all you can do to keep yourself remotely still as he continues pumping his thick fingers in and out. "Oh my god, Yun, please don't stop!" You clench helplessly around his fingers and let your head roll back to rest on his shoulder.

"Awe baby I'm not gonna stop. Not until I see how pretty you look cumming all over me. Will you do that for me, sweetheart?" he coos, bringing his other hand back up to your throat and squeezing lightly. "Will you cum all over my fingers? I bet you want to right? Wanna come on my fingers while I squeeze this pretty neck of yours?"

You whine and preen at his words and arch your back. Your legs begin to shake as Yunho's circling on your clit quickens pace just slightly, the thrusts of his fingers audible from the squelching between your thighs. Your breath quickens.

"My pretty girl, you're such a mess for me, aren't you? Can you hear how wet you are? All soaked for me? I bet your hands don't feel as good as mine hmm?"

You shake your head no violently, whining as he continues to talk lowly into your ear. Your orgasm builds quickly, and at this point you have no faith in your ability to speak coherently.

"No, they don't do they? I want you to show me how good my hands feel baby. Let go for me, sweetheart."

Your breath catches in your throat as you tip over the edge, and the feeling of your release washes over you. Your whole body jolts in his grasp as he continues pumping his fingers. You feel him squeeze your throat gently, just enough pressure to remind you that he's got you.

"Atta girl, look at you! Doing so good for me." You whine and buck your hips, orgasm still riding through your body. Yunho nips at your neck lightly and slows his pumping to a stop as you continue to shake. "That's it baby, just grind on them for me." The final aftershock of your orgasm finishes, and you go limp in his arms, leaning all of your weight back into his chest and breathing heavily.

Yunho pulls his fingers out and admires the mess you made on them before popping them into his mouth. He's still rock hard, and the taste of you on his fingers makes him twitch again. He'll definitely need your help with that later. He uses the hand around your neck to brush a stray hair from out of your face. "How are you feeling?"

You huff out a breathless laugh and turn your face to nuzzle into his neck. "How do you think I feel? That was...wow."

He can't help the goofy smile that crosses his face. "Oh really? Tell me more, I'd like a full report." He jokes, pulling the two of you down to snuggle on his bed. He grabs a throw blanket from your side and pulls it over the two of you and nearly melts when you curl closer to him, burying your face into his chest.

"Give me a few minutes to recover and I'll show you exactly how I'm feeling right now." Yunho rubs a hand up and down your back.

"I look forward to that."

"And then afterwards you're going to show me what you've been building."

Yunho chuckles and kisses the top of your head. No way in hell.

#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #atz #yunho smut #yunho x reader #yunho imagines

2K notes · View notes

charliemwrites · 2 months ago

Text

Part 4 of Men at Work!

Just a note, I know I mix phonetic and Cyrillic spellings of Russian in this. Mostly it's so that people can easily translate the more complex words directly.

Content: Masturbation, very mild protective/possessive behavior

It’s becoming a problem.

You think this from the overstuffed daybed recently purchased for the explicit purpose of feeding into aforementioned problem. Not that the porch is the problem, heavens no. If so much as a nail came loose, there’s a trio of men across the street all too eager to lend their hammers and bulging, glistening muscles to fix it.

Which, conveniently, is the problem.

Their muscles, that is. And how magnanimous they are with them.

Your house is nice. New. It took them three days to fix all the issues you’d been putting off for a day you were non-reclusive enough to schedule a handyman.

Your house is too nice and too new.

You’re feeding a Vegas buffet’s worth of appetites raised on old world sensibilities with no outlet for them to be expressed. There aren’t enough squeaky hinges, crooked cabinets, stuck windows, or leaky faucets in your two-bedroom for all that… chivalry. (Or whatever Krueger has that passes for chivalry’s surly cousin.)

They’ve taken to invading earlier in the evening for busy work before dinner. Cutting vegetables, tenderizing meat, cleaning dishes, setting the goddamn table.

Like, sirs, you’re a single woman with three cats and a sham of a personal life – the last time you saw a centerpiece on a domestic dining table was Christmas at your nana’s.

Until Konig shuffled in with a fistful of sunflowers and zinnias, promising that he double-checked that they’re non-toxic to cats. You didn’t have a vase, so you had to make do with an empty mason jar you were keeping for ostensible aesthetic reasons.

Now you’ve got an ongoing bouquet, kitschy salt-and-pepper shakers shaped like lemons that no one ever uses (as if your seasoning decisions are as good as god) and are contemplating cloth napkins like some kind of… of…

“Socialite?” you muse aloud. You glance at Rasputin. He blinks slowly. “Hostess? Woman of the night?”

You’re pretty sure Agatha didn’t mean that as a compliment when you overheard her gossiping to Margot yesterday. (She should really remember that if she can eavesdrop on you from her backyard, the same is true the other way around.)

You’re toying with an idea for a new series with your last one wrapping up and your solo-novel due for release come fall. Something about a rich young woman with a wild streak and her fantastically wealthy gentlemen callers…

“Scarlet woman,” you murmur aloud, eyes on the reason for your recent porch décor purchase.

Krueger is on the roof, cloth around his head to stave off the summer heat. Doing… something with shingles and a nail gun. Your face flushes with each flex of hard muscle, jump of thick tendons. The grip he has on that thing…

As inspiring as your neighbors are, they are also a huge (in many, many ways) distraction. Hence, they are a Problem.

And not just for you. On your right, you catch the flutter of curtains from your peripheral. Lisa taking another peek – to be properly scandalized, probably. (You’re not really sure what the neighborhood biddies tell themselves when they decide something is Simply Not Proper.)

��We’ll have to start charging admission,” you muse, sipping a strawberry mojito.

Curled up far too close for the weather, Little Guy chuffs and stretches. You smooth a fingertip up his little nose, between his eyes, and over the crest of his empty head.

“Jezebel,” you mumble. He yawns, tongue curling and pearly fangs gleaming. “Trollop.”

An annoyed grunt pulls your eyes forward again. Nikto is standing halfway up the porch, one foot planted on the last step like a sexy Russian Captain Morgan. His thighs stretch his workpants oh-so-nicely. There’s a smear of white paste across the material – caulking, maybe?

(You could do with a caulking too.)

“Has someone called you these?” he asks. “Who?”

You laugh. What would he even do if someone had?

“No – well, not to my face, anyway.”

He snorts, shoots a withering scowl at Agatha’s property anyway. You spin your pen around your fingers and try not to bite your lip at the way his shirt is clinging from sweat.

“Aren’t you hot?” you fuss. “You’re going to pass out.”

“Nyet, we have been in worse,” he replies, finishing the short journey up the porch. He pauses in front of you, taking in the sight of you and your cats. What does he think, seeing you lounging about all day while he and his friends(?) are working so hard? If it’s something negative, he’s never let on.

“Still,” you insist, “have you been hydrating?”

“Da, the water runs.”

You blink, put together pieces to assume he and the others are chugging tap water (probably right from the faucet) when necessary. Well, that just won’t do now, will it?

“No, no. Hold on. Rasputin, hold him hostage.”

And like the little angel he is, Ras gets up, stretches out, and begins rubbing his face all over Nikto’s pants. With him distracted, you hop to your feet and scurry inside. The house is almost uncomfortably cool after most of your morning spent outside, but you’ll only be a moment.

There’s a large ruby pitcher waiting in the fridge from last night, complete with various berries floating at the top. You use two hands to heft it out, set it on the counter, then flit to your cabinets for the travel cups you invested in for on-the-go wine sipping. Nice and insulated.

You pour a cup for each of them, stow the pitcher away again, and carry all three in triangle-formation back outside. (Maybe you should get a tray? The antique store in town probably has something pretty and lemon-themed to match the salt and pepper shakers…)

Nikto hurries to help as soon as he sees you, plucking the extra cup from your hands.

“I saw this recipe and wanted to try it since it’s been getting hotter.”

He blinks at you, then the juice.

“You don’t have to try it now, I just thought—”

Your voice abandons you as Nikto tugs his filtration mask down. The skin beneath is warped and scarred, discolored in some places. When he raises the edge of the cup to his mouth, the skin of one cheek stretches distressingly thin. You can see the individual indents of his back molars pressing against the flesh as he drinks.

You understand why he’s been hesitant to show you; it’s not easy to look at. Which makes you all the more determined to flick your eyes back to his and ask, eagerly, “What do you think? Too sweet?”

As he swallows, throat clicking, you think you hear him grunt something.

“Hm?”

“Nyet. Not too sweet. Is good, пчела.”

You grin even though you’re not sure what it means. All three of them have some nickname in their mother tongue that you can only hope is complimentary and not because they forgot your actual name.

“Good, then I can bring some to K and K while you help me with lunch. That’s why you came by, right?”

He nods. “Nearly noon.”

“That late already!” you say. Wow, staring at hot, sweaty men really makes time fly. “Alright, I was going to make chicken wraps and latkes. Could you start peeling potatoes? You know where everything is, da?”

“Da.” He clicks his tongue, luring Rasputin in and stirring Guy awake. “Come, малышу, before we leave you out here for vultures.”

“Nikto!” you scold. “Don’t threaten him.”

“I do not threaten. It is what will happen.”

You swat at his arm, but at least Little Guy has been lured into Nikto’s reach – if by nothing else than a hand has been offered and cats are helpless to resist a good sniff. Nikto scoops him up while you turn to flounce down the stairs.

“Make sure Susan doesn’t get out!” you call over your shoulder.

She was roused by your quick turnaround to get the juice cups and will certainly be stalking the door now.

Sure enough, you faintly hear him cursing in Russian as you reach the end of the yard. Luckily, you see him closing the door with all three of your demons inside, so you continue across the street.

Krueger hasn’t noticed your approach, his back to you, so you stop at the edge of the property to watch for a moment. Yep, just as good this close, too.

“Krueger!” you call. He doesn’t turn. You huff and try again. Nothing. Christ, you’re starting to think he’s ignoring you on purpose. “Sebastian!”

His head whips around alarmingly fast and finds you right there on the ground. No need to look around at all – sometimes they remind you of their profession in the oddest ways.

“Ja, ja, no need to shout,” he replies.

You open your mouth to do just that, but he’s already scaling down from the roof. You’re stunned into silence as he slides down to the edge of the roof, catches the edge, and swings down to the ground. Lands with barely more noise than one of your footsteps. It’s quick yet so graceful.

You stare (gawk, more accurately) as he saunters up, pants sinfully low on his narrow hips.

“What did you need, bienchen?” he asks. “It is too early for lunch.”

You stutter for a second before your brain reboots.

“What was that?!” you demand, a little shriller than necessary. If you don’t shriek about this, you’re going to shriek about that gorgeous chest and the tattoos and the everything else, and you absolutely cannot do that. “That was so dangerous! You’re going to break a leg!”

“You worry,” he scoffs. He shakes his head, but there’s a wicked, knowing grin at the corners of his mouth and his eyes are far too bright. “That was a little jump.”

“It was not!”

“It only seemed big because you are so little, but it was nothing for me.”

“You’re not that much taller!”

“It is sweet to worry,” he coos, “but it is too hot for it, yes?”

You scrunch your nose at him, not sure if you’re annoyed or turned on or both. (Probably both. It’s annoying how hot he is. And how hot he knows he is.)

“If it’s so hot, then here.”

You all but shove the cup at him. He takes it with a flicker of genuine surprise, sniffs at the liquid, then takes a sip. A pleased hum rumbles in his chest, raises the temperature another few degrees.

“My mother used to make something like this,” he muses, expression softening. You blink, lean in automatically for a peck to your cheek. “Danke schön.”

“Bitte,” you mumble, mouth drier than Reggie’s garden.

His eyes crinkle, mouth hidden by the edge of the cup as he proceeds to chug the rest of it. A droplet slips down his jaw and skips down to his collarbone. You force your eyes away before you’re driven to do something irreparable by thirst.

“Is Konig inside?” you ask. “I have a cup for him, too.”

He grunts confirmation, tongue curling around a blueberry to coax it into his mouth.

Yep, alright, that’s about as much as you can take.

“Scooch, before the punch goes warm.”

“Punch?” he repeats, arching an eyebrow at you.

“That’s what it’s called in English. Punch.”

“That seems like it would cause misunderstanding.” Except he’s grinning as he says it, like he cherishes the idea of someone confusing the two words and starting a fight. Considering how often you catch him and Konig smacking at each other, that’s probably not a stretch.

“Just please don’t swing on anyone, yeah?”

“Only because you ask so nicely,” he croons.

You click your tongue at him. “Wipe off before going in, I don’t want Shithead to stink after crawling on you.”

He barks out his usual sharp laugh and tugs the cloth – his own t-shirt – off his head to mop up his sweat. You make a mental note to tease him about sunburn later as you slip past him.

You can hear Konig singing off-key upstairs when you open the door. The house is sweltering, only mildly cooler than outside with none of the fresh air. You grimace as you pause at the bottom of the stairs; the boys have warned you that it’s dangerous up there and it’s best not to go wandering.

Thankfully, it doesn’t sound like he’s using power tools at the moment.

“Konig!” you call.

“Is that you, biene?” he calls back.

You grin. “Who else would it be, huh?”

You hear his footsteps right over your head, track his gait until the first heavy boot on the stairs. He meets you at the bottom with his usual ventilator on, but he tugs it down when he sees the cup in your hand.

“Is this for me?” he asks eagerly.

“Yep! Tell me what you think!”

With none of Nikto or Kreuger’s hesitation, he knocks back a big mouthful. Licks his full lips as he lowers it, eyes bright as they land on yours.

“This is perfect,” he chirps, “so refreshing! Thank you, biene!”

You beam right back, flushed with pride that all three of them liked the recipe you “happened to find” when you saw the temperature projections for today.

“There’s more back home,” you offer, “come out of the heat.”

“Okay, okay,” he chuckles. “I will wipe off first.”

You hum agreeably, watching him slip back upstairs with great enthusiasm. Konig in a tank top and those tight cargos… summer really is delivering this year.

That evening, you sigh as you recline across your huge bed, naked and cooling off with the night breeze rolling through your window. Ras and Shithead are happily distracted wrestling each other in your forgotten towel, and Little Guy is snoozing on his personal pillow.

You stretch out, feeling a bit decadent and indulgent with moonlight spilling over your body, and let your hands wander. It’s not the high-efficiency sleep-oriented wank you usually rush through, not this time.

You unspool memories of the day with each brush of your fingertips over moisturized skin. You hum as your skin tingles, imagining Konig’s calloused palms in place of yours. He’d be so surprisingly gentle, you’re sure. Big, strong hands but he’d play with you like a precious toy. Plucking your nipples and scratching his blunt nails over the plush of your hips.

As your breathing picks up, you see Krueger’s broad shoulders flexing behind your eyelids. Imagine them bullying between your thighs, hooking your knees over. That bright glint in his eye as he smirks against your cunt. Can practically feel the curl of his tongue around your clit, eating you out messy and mean.

You’re already halfway there when you curl two fingers into your pussy. You’re so wet that your fingers slip and slide, squelch lewdly as you rock your hips, trying to find just the right angle.

You imagine Nikto clicking his tongue at your struggle. Almost hear his low, hoarse voice chiding you for doing his job while he takes over. His fingers are so much thicker than yours, you have to press a third in just to maintain the fantasy.

You want to lean back against his broad chest while he strokes your walls, listen to him and Krueger and Konig talk about you like you’re not even there, debating if you should come. Ignore you as you beg and whimper, big hands pinning you down while they draw it out.

Please, please, please…

You clap a hand over your mouth just in time, hips jerking so hard that it makes your wrist ache.

Whoops.

Well, you doubt anyone heard. It’s pretty late, and you’re on the second story anyway.

Already sleepy, you’re too lazy to close the window after a pre-bed stop in the restroom. It’s such a nice night, after all.

First | Previous | Next

Masterlist

#men at work fic #nikto cod #cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #grey fic because it's not that dark i swear #cod krueger #cod konig

1K notes · View notes

klausysworld · 6 months ago

Note

hey, so i’ve been having this scene in my head for days where y/n and klaus are kidnapped by some witches and they are put under a sex spell that makes both of them really horny. they gotta have intercourse for the witches to draw the energy that comes from simultaneous orgasms or something like that. they are reluctant at first especially y/n but klaus manages to convince/seduce her and they end up having the best sex of their life. could you write something like that pls?

Timeless Desire

Klaus groaned softly, rolling onto his back and peeling his eyes open. The light stung at his pupils making then shrink momentarily before they expanded beyond their usual diameter.

His body ran hot and a familiar but much more intense ache rolled through his body, his lower body especially. With a stiff grunt he placed his hand over his crotch, an immediate cry leaving him with how incredibly hard he was.

"Fuck" He breathed, lifting his spinning head and forcing himself up onto to find himself in a plain, bright room. He was fully dressed but he felt the need to tear each material from his skin. Just as he started to tug at the hem of his shirt his attention was pulled to a soft moan, one that made his loins stir.

Klaus spun round to see a vaguely familiar girl curled up in the corner. Dressed in a floaty dress that meant that the delicious scent of her arousal spread through the room like a wild fire. His eyes found hers, she was afraid that much was clear and if he were honest, he was also a little nervous but she looked scared of him and he didn't understand why.

His lips parted to speak but before he could, someone else's voice piped up.

"Perfect. You're both awake!" The voice was cold and mildly amused. Klaus felt his anger spike, he knew this witch. Not personally but he knew who it was and the type of shit this guy did. But the girl didn't, Klaus could tell that she was lost. "Now I know you're a little scared honey, but don't panic, I'm not here to hurt you." The guy grinned, adressing the girl before gesturing to Klaus "But he might" He whispered to her and Klaus frowned, confused. Did he know her? "Now you should recognise each other just a little bit. This, honey, is Klaus Mikaelson" He smirked and she sniffed, backing further into the corner, "And this is Y/n Y/l/n, you met once, she's part of Jackson's or I suppose now it's Hayley's pack" The witch explained and Klaus's eyes went wide. Hayley had introduced them, once, and he had liked her. He had flirted and teased but nothing came of it, so why was she here? Why was he here?

"What is this, exactly?" Klaus questioned, brows furrowed and eyes darting to Y/n who was squeezing her thighs together tightly.

"You know what it is and you're not gonna fight it. There are dozens of us who will benefit from this ritual and you will complete it by the next full moon." The witch told him sternly and Klaus's expression darkened.

"You're sick" He spat, he knew the ritual he meant. It was a power draw. Two supernaturals, when simultaneously orgasming would release a specific type of power that could be used and twisted to perform some of the biggest spells. Werewolves especially, their hormones are so high. And Klaus? He was perfect for this type of sorcery.

"Sick or not, It's necessary. You have a month, get to know each other if you have to. Or if you want to get back to your daughter them make it happen as soon as you can, hm?" He snapped and Klaus growled.

He knew what the witch was suggesting and based on how Y/n cried "No" , she knew too. The magic wielder left and Klaus looked to Y/n who was shaking her head.

"Please don't" She whimpered and Klaus sighed, brushing his hand over his hair and groaning at the sweat that coated him from how his skin boiled.

"I'm not...I won't make you do anything" He told her, trying to keep his distance but suddenly the room felt so much smaller.

They stayed in opposite corners, silent and uncomfortable. Sometimes she would cry and he would whisper that it was okay and they would get out but he knew it was useless.

When night came it was freezing, unbelievably and her body trembled. He knew what they were doing. They wanted them to lay together to conserve their heat, to touch. Instead, klaus pulled his henley over his head and pushed it over to her so she may warm up.

They stayed silent for days before Y/n began to struggle. His eyes had met her fading ones in the centre of the night and he nodded, getting up and coming over to her.

"It's okay" He whispered, laying down beside her and spooning her delicate figure against him. His cock was solid and pressed right against her ass but he didn't grind himself or say anything, he just needed to keep her warm and alive until the night was over.

But in the morning, the temperature was all the way up and their bodies were practically stuck together. Y/n was dragging the henley over her head, her body pressed against Klaus's and it made him bite down on his tongue hard. Her hips shifted without meaning to and Klaus groaned, bucking his hips against her firm ass. A whine left her and he grunted.

"Fuck, I'm- I'm sorry" He muttered, crawling away from her. He felt like a dog, a weak, panting dog that was desperate for water. His mind was hazy with her so close, he wanted her. He wanted to taste her, to feel her, hear her. Y/n looked so soft, so perfect.

She had curves, he could see them through the dress when she laid and he needed them.

But he couldn't, she was still scared and he couldn't make her. He would do a lot of things but he would not force her.

Klaus tried to stay away from her in the day, only touch at night for heat but then they started to get hungry, physically. Y/n needed food and Klaus needed blood. The witches said Klaus must feed from her and if Y/n wanted food then she would have to earn it. The deal was that for each minute they kissed, she would get a pice or a slice of something. No specifications, just something to entice her.

She was famished when she looked up at him, eyes wet with tears that hadn't yet fallen. Klaus softened, again, and let her shuffle over. His arms wrapped loosely around her waist and whispered gently in her ear. "It's going to be alright sweetheart, just a minute so you can get something okay? I won't hurt you"

Y/n leaned close to him, needing to feel safe and he could do that. She knew the witches were watching and it was unsettling but she also knew that she needed to eat.

So she closed her pretty eyes and let their lips collide. It was supposed to be closed mouth and quick but once they both got a small taste, they yearned for more.

Y/n broke first, surprisingly, and moaned against his lips. As soon as her mouth opened, his tongue was inside and their little kiss became an intense make out session. The heat was too much again and Klaus was pulling her to straddle his lap whilst his tongue fucked her mouth passionately.

They were both blissfully unaware of the time passing by as their bodies rubbed together desperately and her legs spread invitingly for him to lay between as he pushed her onto her back and bunched her dress up. His cock was so close to tearing through his boxers as he dragged his jeans down his hips roughly. Y/n was tugging at him overly eagerly, needing him inside her.

However as soon as he hand grabbed at her panties, her eyes flew open. A gasp leaving her throat and her face pulled away making his wolf growl and hers whine. The fear was back and he could smell it. He panted and let go of her underwear. His eyes listed to meet hers and she whimpered, but she didn't look too scared, she was still lustful.

But they didn't have time to talk about it. Not when a tray had appeared in the opposite corner. Y/n had scrambled over there, grabbing at the pieces of pancake and the berries. Klaus cleared his throat and pulled his trousers back on, he felt embarrassed but he knew he couldn't be due to the circumstances.

He came and sat by her whilst she ate, he was watching over her. Klaus had become protective. The witches had come in one night and tried to take her clothes, to speed the process and since that night he made sure to stay close. He had to fight them off, he almost turned and they knew not to touch her again. He knew that they were still winning, they wanted him to feel possessive and it was working.

He would look around the room, searching for where they were watching them from. He could never find it. In the end his attention would end up back on Y/n.

Once she had devoured everything on her plate, she was snuggling up to him and ready to sleep. There wasn't much to do bug struggle and sleep. The only issue was when she needed to sleep in the daytime. In sunlight hours, it was far too hot to be touching, as the next week came by Klaus ended up sitting in just his boxers during the day. Y/n had torn her dress so it was shorter but eventually it was shredded entirely and she was left in her bra and panties.

It felt so much better in the day but at night? Klaus often worried she would die. Even with their werewolf bodies generating heat, she wasn't strong enough for the temperatures they were putting them through. He would be wrapped around her, on top of her, holding as much over her as possible so that she was as warm as he could have her. It was in the night that he would feed from her. It felt so intimate, too intimate and he couldn't have the witches seeing and he couldn’t have the combination of the heat, her body and feeding all at once so he did it in the cold and dark.

Sometimes, his hands would stroke her skin whilst he fed and when he pulled his mouth away from his neck he would give her little kisses as a thank you. But little kisses weren't a thing. They got sloppy fast and they would be dry humping in minutes.

Too many times one of them had cum in their pants. It resulted in them both completely naked. Y/n had clung onto her bra but he had torn it off her when in a frenzy.

Their lack of clothing made everything difficult.

Klaus wished that the witches could've drawn power from the times he had cum against her leg in the night but he knew that had to be inside her and they had to do it in unison. It was the only way.

He missed his family. He needed to get home, Hope probably thought he had left her but whenever he looked at Y/n, he couldn't ask her to do it. How could he? In the span of weeks he felt that he loved her, he couldn't hurt her.

They had been lead together all night and all day, despite the heat. Their mouths seemed permanently attached, always kissing, licking, loving. Klaus didn't realise how it would feel to cum without any friction. To simply get so hard that he couldn't hold it in. His cock felt like it had exploded with ecstasy. Y/n had giggled when it went all over her stomach, she had stroked his hair gently while he panted and let her kiss his jaw.

"I love you" He whispered to her one day, it was on the fourth week but they didn't know that. Time wasn't real to them. It felt like months had passed with the amount of time they had spent together.

Y/n didn't reply, it hurt him but he understood.

"Would you lie to me...so that you could get out of here?" She asked him a while later, voice weak and eyes avoiding him.

"No" He whispered. "If I were ever going to do that, I would have done that in the first few days. I promise you, I won't ever hurt you. That full moon and come and go, they can torture me but I will never-"

"We have to...I know we do...I just- I"

"I know" He murmured, stroking her arm. "I'll take care of you" It was a promise.

"They'll watch..." She whispered, and he could see that inkling of fear again. It only appeared when the witches were mentioned or showed themselves.

"I'll hide you" He whispered, he pulled her into his hold. "We can be right up in the corner, they'll only see me."

"They've already seen me" She uttered and his heart broke, he was sure of it. He cupped her face and pressed their foreheads together.

"I'm going to rip their eyes from their heads as soon as we get out of here, I promise you" He told her, his voice incredibly low so that they couldn't hear. Y/n nodded silently and sighed softly.

"Maybe just...try something smaller first?" She questioned and he tilted his head but caught on when she shyly touched his hand, his fingers.

"Yeah...we can do that" He whispered, caressing her hand gently and lifting it to kiss her palm. "I can do that for you" He nodded whilst his hands glided down her sides, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Y/n whimpered softly and closed her eyes, focusing on the intoxicating sensations he created.

His lips pressed to her cheek before scattering down her neck, sucking briefly to make her moan whilst his hands massaged her thighs. Y/n pressed herself right to him, her skin on his and her breath against his ear whilst he brushed his touch between her legs.

A low groan left him when he felt how wet she was, not that he expected less. She had been permanently soaked since they were put here. He had felt it through his clothes at the start, when they would move against one another; more recently she would grind on his thigh but he hadn't been able to really touch her how he wanted. She was much more aware than he was which surprised him with his years of restraint and experience.

Many moments of weakness had struck him. He would stroke himself as quietly as he could but he knew that she knew. They were both far too physically sensitive to feel the psychological shame. To begin with they did but now? They had accepted the desperation. They were submitting to it.

That was obvious when his forefinger slipped inside her with ease. Y/n whimpered and curled her fingers against his shoulders whilst her pussy clenched. Klaus pushed a second finger in with only slight resistance and slowly moved them in time.

"It's alright" He mumbled, kissing the side of her head "You're nice and wet for me" He whispered and she moaned softly. Her eyes squeezed shut and her head rest against his neck to muffle her sounds. His thumb hovered over her clit, encouraging her to move her hips in time with his hand.

They started tentative and gentle but the heat took over soon enough. His digits moved inside her as quickly as physically possible, her hips bucked in a frenzy and her moans were no longer hidden and quiet. She was loud, desperate, hungry for him.

Klaus bit down on his tongue to shut himself up as he pumped three fingers into her enthusiastically. He was certain he could stretch her wide enough for his whole hand but he didn't need to. She bit down on his shoulder when she came around his hand with no warning other than a broken cry.

He expected her to be exhausted but she only seemed more eager for him to finally fuck her. Her mouth was on his in seconds, begging him to take her. His fingertips rubbed her clit, trying to bring her down from her high but it only riled her up further.

"Love" He mumbled, a groan to his voice, "Sweetheart"

Eventually she stopped and looked up at him. Her pupils were blown and he fought against every instinct as he cupped her sweet face and kissed her forehead.

"I'm sorry" she whispered "I got carried away"

Her cheeks were blushed red and it made him smile. "It's okay, I just didn't want you to keep going if you didn't actually want to" He murmured, knowing that the intensity of the witches magic was sending their bodies into overdrive.

Y/n nodded and glanced down at his hand with embarrassment.

"Why don't you go see if they've filled your tray?" He suggested softly so that her attention shifted. Y/n went to her feeding area and was able to relax and eat her only meal of the day whilst Klaus went to their usual sleep area. The remains of their clothes worked as some sort of bed and he sighed softly at the reality they were living in.

He promised himself that he would have her wrapped in the finest silk sheets, clad in the softest of clothes and fed the most exceptional of meals. He would care for her, he would get to care for his daughter again and see his family. He hoped they'd be happy to see him.

Similar thoughts swirled through his mind each night as he lay with her curled in his arms. Sometimes she would ask what he was thinking and he would tell her whilst she silently hoped that she would get to stay with him once they escaped.

As the full moon neared their scents became stronger and each little, harmless touch became much more intense. They both became more animalistic. Touch, food and sleep was all they wanted and it was all they got.

Klaus was far too happy with the recent development of being allowed to touch that sweet pussy of hers. His fingers were always inside her however after hours of having her fall apart on her hand she needed more. Which was how Klaus ended up with his mouth attached to her cunt for an entire night.

Much to his embarrassment Klaus had borderline begged her to touch his cock. Y/n had felt guilty for letting him struggle and stroked him until he was as much a mess as she had been.

They weren't aware that it was the night of the full moon when their lust overpowered them both.

The witches had the rest of their ingredients ready to draw from the two wolves once the moon hung high.

Klaus's mouth had moved up and down her body three times mover before his cock finally spread her pussy lips open. Her hands grabbed at his skin, her nails dragging up his back to pull him closer.

"Are you sure?" He breathed though he wasn't sure if he could actually stop himself if she said no. Thankfully she was all the more eager.

"Please Klaus, I'm sure, I'm ready" She begged, her eyes pleading with his and making him nod subconsciously and push into her.

The first few thrusts were as slow as he could manage as his fingers curled to grasp at the ground beneath them. His claws extended without him knowing whilst his cock thickened inside her and pushed against her soaking walls.

His head fell forward whilst hers went back and her own claws sunk deep into his flesh.

It only took a minute before control was tossed and Klaus's mind went into overdrive. His hips started to snap aggressively to hers, his ears longing to hear that harsh slap of their skin meeting and the immediate moan that left her lips.

His hands slid under her back to hold onto the back of her shoulders to get a good grip on her whilst he thrust into her roughly. Her legs were up around his hips and he could feel the heels of her feet hit against the base of his back with each thrust.

"God, I love you" He panted, his eyes burning gold as he clung to her tightly and pressed his lips to her jaw. Her cunt was so wet and hot, he never wanted to leave. She squeezed him so delightfully that his vision would go for a moment here and there.

Y/n couldn't close her mouth for even a second, her sounds were endless whilst she begged.

"Harder, Klaus. Please!" She cried, her claws shredding the skin of his back. He obeyed her demands and bucked his hips harsher, hitting that spot with more force.

Klaus watched her eyes roll back whilst her body tensed and tightened.

"Not yet, love" He murmured through a strained voice. He gripped her tighter and moved faster, chasing what his body desperately needed. Klaus groaned loudly, his mind was on fire, his body too. A fire of desire set them both aflame.

The witches gathered in a circle, their chanting synchronised as they felt the power start to flow.

Klaus held himself up with one hand whilst the other slide down the front of her body to dip between her legs. His cock continued to slide back and forth roughly within her whilst his fingertips began to circle her swollen clit.

Y/n was borderline screaming for him when she came undone, her jaw open when he sheathed himself to the hilt and released inside her.

Their foreheads pressed together, sticking with sweat as they panted warm air against each other's mouths.

Y/n felt the weakening first. It hit hard, as though every ounce of her energy was dragged out of her soul.

Klaus noticed her skin paling and worry settle dover him before he felt the same struggle. He muttered incoherently, trying to tell her it was okay but his mind went fuzzy but this time it wasn't due to pleasure.

He knew that the witches had completed their ritual but he hadn’t expected the effects to happen so quickly or be quite so intense. Unfortunately his thoughts were cut short when everything went dark.

It felt like days had passed when he woke again.

His head rang and his arms shifted to hold onto Y/n but she wasn't there.

Immediately he pushed himself up, ignoring the blaring ache throughout his muscles. His eyes were wide when he saw the familiarity of of his bedroom. Relief flooded him before the confusion and the worry.

"Y/N!" He yelled, his throat raw. Elijah appeared in the doorway, rushing over to his brother.

"Niklaus-" He spoke, voice clear as he put his hands on the hybrids shoulders. "It's alright- we got the coven, the majority are dead. We kept the leaders back for you to deal with and-"

"We have to go back right now!" Klaus told him, eyes wide. "Y/n's still there, tell me you didn't hurt her-" He yelled before a throat cleared and Klaus pushed Elijah out of the way.

Y/n was stood slightly behind Hayley, dressed properly for the first time in weeks and looking up at him with a tired but genuine smile.

He took fast strides before pulling her into his chest and smelling her now clean hair. He looked ahead of him and smiled when Rebekah came into view with Hope on her hip.

Y/n pulled away so that Klaus could hold his daughter and she rubbed her eyes. Hayley placed a gentle arm on Y/n's shoulder and gave her a smile.

"Welcome to the family" She told her, a lighthearted tone to her voice in hopes of keeping the positive energy of their rescue alive rather than the haunting memories of their time in the room.

2K notes · View notes

agatharkn3ss · 3 months ago

Text

Rio's flower theory (contains spoilers!)

Some people have noticed how Rio's flower kept making appearance in the last episode, so naturally I re-watched it for the 100th time, and made note of every moment we see the flower because I have a theory...

First appearance - Rio presents it to Agatha when she crawls out of the ground

Agatha pushed it out of her hand, but it's unclear what happens to it - I thought maybe it looked like she put it in her coat pocket, but actually I think she just threw it to the ground, she would be too angry to keep it. And so we see the flower back in Rio's hands when she merrily hops along the Road. She doesn't stop playing with it even when they stop to look at the trial house.

The flower (and also her knife) is also present in the trial. As we saw with Agatha's locket, amulets and Joe's spell book, the trial seems to let the witches keep things that are important to them.

When they exit the trial, frantically trying to save Teen, Rio is back playing with the flower again, silently observing Agatha.

This continues until the campfire. Seriously, why is this girl stimming so much?

The interesting bit is when Agatha returns from Teen. Her hands are in her pocket, so we can't see whether she's holding something in her hands or if she's taking something from her pocket. But in the next frame, as she sits down to join the coven, she has that flower in her left hand! I think Rio must have put it on the seat, waiting for her. There are some interesting looks!

Finally, when Rio gets up to go after Agatha, the camera pans out and we see the flower has actually been left back on the log, where Agatha sat... What is the meaning of it?....

So in summary, the flower has some deeper meaning to Rio and she seems to really treasure it, maybe even use it as a stimming device, maybe trying to control her emotions?

Enter the Marvel promo for Death tarot card!

In one hand, we see Death holds her dagger (looking familiar?), in the other hand she holds an object that people believe to be Death's black heart. But it also reminds me the shape of a flower. So what if Rio's flower IS her heart? That she keeps offering to Agatha?

But I wonder if Agatha realises the meaning of the flower yet. In ep.1 she looked a little surprised when Rio says she does have a heart, that it's black and beats for her. It would be hard to believe that if these two were an item for centuries, that they wouldn't end up knowing everything about each other. So Agatha's "you don't have a heart" could just be a snarky, hurtful comment to reflect Rio's possible betrayal (the "job" she had to do) or a more literal fact that she doesn't believe Rio can be truly human in any physical way (no heart, no scars), because she's Lady Death. Or both. So maybe Rio hid that part from her? They certainly seem like they didn't even talk and reconcile after the dramatic events because Agatha seems surprised at Rio's hurt and regret when she tells her "scar story".

Anyway, I digress... In short, I think flower is (or at least symbolises) Rio's heart.

Bonus content - we actually get a glimpse of that flower in ep.1 as it makes its appearance even in Agatha's fake reality. Even though the camera angles make it impossible to see it most of the time, there are scenes when Rio moves her head just enough that we can see a bit of her her clip - which looks eerily like the flower!

While there was no actual flower in their ep.1 fight scene, Agatha is wearing a flowery robe and the wallpaper is all flowers. So I think there is a deeper symbolism there that the show is trying to subtly incorporate - does it all link to the Green Witch powers? Or the language of flowers?

Even Teen places a flower on Sharon's grave, where would he even get it from in that dark place? And finally, Jen uses blue flowers when they summon the green witch (Lilia offers a rock, Agatha adds a leaf and it's not clear what Alice adds - some dust or fruit?)

So... after all that, I don't actually know anything about plants or gardening. So does anyone know what type Rio's flower even is? I mean, there literally is a flower called Rio, could that be a hint or is it too simple?

EDIT: My bad, Rio is a proprietary company name who sells those flowers. But what about this flower called Surprise Lily? (also called Resurrection Lily!) Doesn't look quite like Rio's but I like the name as it would be quite funny if it was true...

#agatha all along #agatha harkness #kathryn hahn #aubrey plaza #rio vidal #agatha all along spoilers #agathario #agatha x rio #vidarkness #flower #agatha all along theory

679 notes · View notes

serejae · 5 months ago

Text

FOREVER YOUNG | C.SEUNGCHEOL

pairing : scoups x reader

WHAT ! - in which seungcheol will always be young to you (or, youve watched seungcheol grow as your relationship does)

warnings : corny ending paragraph (booooo) so self indulgent, i found a gray hair tdy (im 20.)

happiest birthday to my cherry :-(

seungcheol sat between your legs peacefully resting his head on your thigh as he scrolled through his phone. you subconsciously run your hands through his hair until you spotted something. taking a double take you gasp making seungcheol look up slightly with his brows furrowed

“whats wrong?” he asked softly clearly tired

“you have a gray hair” you replied laughing slightly still shocked

seungcheol then sat up with one hand ontop of this head with his mouth agape “youre lying” he almost whispered before pacing to the bathroom mirror, you followed him and stood by the door frame watching him move his hair around searching for the gray hair. smiling at the sight you found a pair of tweezers in the drawer and stood behind him pushing him to lower down to get a better look at his hair

“i dont think there was a gray hair baby” he mumbled still in denial

“it must have been the hair dye i have on, its gray right?” he asked looking at you through the mirror

not replying you plucked out the piece of hair that distinguished itself from the rest on his head, it was metallic, clearly a gray hair.

as seungcheol stood there he went back to the couch and face planted on it making you laugh, again you followed him and laid on his back as you ran your hands through his hair

“im so old” he mumbled against the couch letting his shoulders deflate, you rested your chin on it and laughed

“youre still handsome”

“am i?

my younger features are being lost”

“and i watched you lose them, thats the beautiful thing cheol”

he peeped his face out to slightly look at you on his back with his confused face

you were walking the streets just roaming around when there were a group of guys about to walk past you on a street, you looked at each boy but your eyes settled on one as his settled onto you

he was so cute, his features were so soft. he had a baby face almost (he also had that goofy tall mountain haircut everyone had back then)

that was the first thing you could think of and you couldnt really think of anything else because he stopped you

“hey, uhm…” he paused slightly leaving his hand out

you awkwardly shook his hand as you muttered a “hi”

a few more seconds of awkward silence he continued “i just came to this part of town, do you want to be friends…?”

he had a slight grin on his face which subconsciously traveled to you, it was like he put you under a spell. you nodded making his smile a bit wider

“im seungcheol”

“yn”

seungcheol was gonna continue talking but you both heard his friend group call out for him

“uhm lets exchange numbers really quick yeah?” he again, use that smile that you couldnt resist

its almost been a year since seungcheol and you have met and almost 5 months since you both had started dating. its crazy how a cute boy you met on the street was now laying on your lap after YOU asked him to be your boyfriend when you both were in a diner and the tension between the two of you in the booth but no words were spoken. you could tell seungcheol tried to utter the words out but the slowness made you eager and say it first. luckily, he immediately nodded needing no time to react

“yes, yes i want to be your boyfriend”

you remember those words he said on the 27th even 10 years later because seungcheol kisses you everyday 27 times in the morning and night to apologize for making you ask him

out

so as he laid on your lap your fingers softly traced the soft curve of his nose, lips, and face shape. taking in the beauty of the man on your lap you were a bit spaced out not noticing the smile placed on his lips

but its not like the both of you cared

slowly and quietly you made your way to seungcheols gaming room in the shared apartment with his lit birthday cake in hand as kkuma followed behind you with her paws hitting the floor softly. you stood out outside the room looking at your phone

11:58

11:59

you opened the door slightly and peaked in to see him fully focused on the game hes playing

12:00

just then you carefully walk in and tap his shoulder. seungcheol immediately took off his headphones and turned to look at you, when he realized what was going on he smiled and turned to the computer to check the date, turning back to you, you started to sing happy birthday as he looked up at you forgetting about everything around him

when you finished singing he took a moment to continue admire you before letting out a small

“thank you”

before blowing out his candles, but instead of going for the cake he wraps his arms around your waist still sitting in his seat

“can i stay like his for a bit?” he muttered resting one side of his face on your stomach

“yeah, of course” you smiled as you put the cake on his table letting you arms relax down his back as you looked down at him. your hands trace the side of his face that is visible to you, you notice the maturing his face has did over the 4 years.

his features are still soft but more prominent, his nose had shapened a bit, his lips were slightly plumper, and his face was slimmer.

smiling at the baby cheol that you met before youre met with semibaby cheol

but he doesnt have to know that

i guess he didnt have to know that because he found out himself, thats why youre laying ontop of a 28 year olds back running your hands through his hair as he listens to you talk about how his features have changed from when he was 18, 19, and 23

“i guess 23 when was i realized that your features had changed slightly, 19 was only a bit of difference from 18” you explained to him as he laid one side of his face on the couch

“and now?” he muttered

“youre features…”

you traced over them again causing his lips to lift slightly at the contact

“theyre more defined, your soft nose is more prominent, your plump lips are plumper and pinkish, and your face is more defined”

“but am i-“

“yes, youre still handsome cheol gray hairs and all”

he smiled at the words

“just wanted to hear you say it

you think im old though?”

you smiled continuing to stare down at the one side of his face visible moving a few hairs away from his face

“youre closer to 30 than you are 20 babe”

his lips pouted making you chuckle

“i want to be forever young” he sighed

“then what about me? id be old” you teased making him huff

“then i want to be forever old-

wait no i dont”

you laughed at his slip up making him laugh too

“if there was a chance for you to he forever young but you would lose me from your life-“

your question was cut off by seungcheols quick

“no”

“i wouldnt want to live any life without you in it. if im young, if im old, i want to do it with you

i want to be forever young with you

forever old too, forever mid age, i just want to be forever with you”

“i want to be forever with you too” you smiled caressing his cheek

“your birthdays soon” he nodded and leaned against your touch

your hand slowly made it back to his hair

“maybe youll get more gray hairs sooner then”

“you know, gray hairs dont seem too bad if theyre with you” seungcheol said

“yeah?”

“yeah, i guess youre right in a way, they remind me of the stages of our relationship and how youve been there with me for it all

and it also reminds me of how i cannot wait for you to get your gray hairs” he smiled cheekily

“hey” you scolded him slightly

“you said it shows us growing up with one another so-“

“but still!”

and as the evening continued with bickering it was as if time never changed anything, even when your features are being changed youre reminded that you still have the same seungcheol and you through moments like these

so no, you dont have baby cheol nor semibaby cheol looks wise but cheol will always be your baby

even if you both arent forever young

779 notes · View notes

hoe4hotchner · 24 days ago

Note

I know you are probably so tired of this but I NEED more smoker Hotch, I do know why but the pure thought of Aaron Hotchner smoking just does something to me, I also wanted to say thank you so much for all that you do for the Aaron hotchner fan base and even the criminal minds fandom ❤️

Bad habits | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!Reader | WC: 0.7k | CW: Smoking cigarettes

A/N: I'm never tired of getting requests (cause let's be honest smoker!hotch is too hot for his own good) Thank you so much for the kind words. It means a lot to hear. 💕💕💕

The first time you caught Aaron smoking, it was in his garage, out of all places. He leaned against the back wall, one foot propped up against the wall, a lit cigarette dangling between his fingers. The faint glow from the overhead bulb cast shadows across his face, highlighting the tension etched into his features.

For a moment, you just stood there, frozen in the doorway, watching. This was Aaron Hotchner, your steadfast, composed partner. The man who was usually all discipline, who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders without ever letting it show. And yet, here he was, indulging in what could only be described as a private ritual.

You crossed your arms and leaned against the doorframe, breaking the silence. “I didn’t take you for a smoker.”

Aaron turned his head slightly, his eyes meeting yours. His expression didn’t shift much, but you could tell you’d caught him off guard. The hand holding the cigarette hovered near his side like he wasn’t sure whether to hide it or finish it.

“It’s... occasional,” he said after a pause, his voice gravelly, almost sheepish. “Stress, mostly.”

You raised an eyebrow, stepping further into the garage. “Stress? Really? You expect me to believe this is a spur-of-the-moment thing?”

The faintest smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “You think I have a habit?”

“Oh, I know you do,” you shot back, your tone teasing. “You’ve clearly done this before. What, do you sneak out here after bad cases? After long nights at work?” You'd meant it as a joke, but deep down, you knew that some of it probably held truth to it.

He exhaled a thin stream of smoke, the tendrils curling lazily. “Something like that.”

You moved closer, the faint scent of smoke mixed with the familiar aroma of the garage. It should’ve been off-putting, but there was something about the way the cigarette looked in his hand that made your pulse quicken.

“You know, it’s terrible for you,” you said, tilting your head as you studied him.

His lips quirked into a smile, closing his eyes for a split second, more amusement than apology. “So I’ve heard.”

For a moment, the two of you stood there in silence. You couldn’t stop watching him — the way his fingers held the cigarette, the way his jaw tightened as he brought it to his lips, and the way the soft glow of the embers lit his face up with each inhale.

It shouldn’t have been attractive. But it was.

“You’re staring,” Aaron said, breaking the spell.

You blinked, heat rushing to your cheeks. “Am not.”

“You are,” he replied. He held the cigarette out to you, his eyes studying your reaction. “Want to try?”

You frowned, narrowing your eyes. “Is this how you justify it? Getting me to join in so you feel less guilty?”

His smirk deepened, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of mischief in his gaze. “Maybe.”

Your lips twitched as you took the cigarette from his hand, your fingers brushing against his. The contact was brief but electric, and you had to steel yourself against the flutter it sent through your chest.

The cigarette felt foreign between your fingers, and you glanced at Aaron for guidance. He stepped closer, his presence steady and grounding.

“Breathe in slowly,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth. “Not too deep. It’ll burn if you’re not used to it.”

You followed his instructions, the taste sharp and smoky as it filled your lungs. It wasn’t pleasant — not really — but the way Aaron watched you, his gaze steady and just a little amused, made the moment strangely intimate.

When you exhaled, you handed the cigarette back to him, coughing slightly. “That’s disgusting.”

Aaron chuckled softly. “I didn’t say it was enjoyable.”

“Then why do it?” you asked, crossing your arms.

He took one last drag, his eyes distant for a moment before killing the cigarette in the ashtray on the table next to him. “Because sometimes,” he said, his voice quieter now, “it’s the only thing that helps.”

Your heart twisted at the admission. He didn’t have to say what it was — you knew fully well what he meant, and you admired him for taking on that burden.

You reached out, your fingers brushing against his hand. “You know you don’t have to carry everything alone, right?”

“I know.”

And maybe he did. But as he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you and pressing a kiss to your temple, you made a silent vow to remind him as often as he needed.

495 notes · View notes

elikajinnie · 2 months ago

Note

HIHI i read your jungwon hogwarts au just now ( i had been planning to read it for a while now ) AND IT WAS SO GOOOOODD 😭🫶🏻‼️ also your ni-ki ones were insanely good too 🥹🫶🏻 i wanted to ask maybe if you have time could write another jungwon hogwarts au? Sorry if its too much ! Thank you forr reading and have a great day/night ahead ^^

Hogwarts in Fur - Y.J

OMG THANK YOU!! This made my day fr. I am very happy that you liked them! its not too much! really :) have a great day and please enjoy this one <3

P: Hufflepuff!Jungwon X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Love Confessions.

Synopsis: After years of secretly admiring your brother's friend Jungwon, a mysterious and overly affectionate black cat appears just after Jungwon goes missing. Now who does this cat belong to? Why does your brother seem nervous? And most importantly, where has Jungwon gone?

masterlist

/ᐠ ˵> ˕ <˵マ

You weren't best friends with your brother. As siblings, you had a tendency to bicker, picking fights over the smallest things—whose turn it was to set the table, who had borrowed whose stuff without asking. It was just how things were, and neither of you made much effort to change that. So when the Hogwarts acceptance letters arrived for the both of you, the thought of being sorted into the same house made you cringe.

You couldn’t imagine anything worse than sharing a common room with him, dealing with his sarcastic comments every day, or worse, being seen together like you were… friends. Fortunately, fate, or the Sorting Hat, was on your side. He ended up in one house, and you in another. The relief was instant. You thought that would be the end of it, and the two of you would drift along separate paths without much need to cross each other’s.

At least, that’s what you thought until you saw one of his friends.

It was always by chance—maybe you were walking through the courtyard or passing through the Great Hall—but there he was, standing next to your brother, laughing with that damn dimpled smile. His laugh was low and smooth, something that caught your ear and refused to let go. Your gaze lingered longer than you’d care to admit, taking in the confident way he leaned against the stone wall, the way his eyes sparkled with mischief.

And you couldn’t help but wonder why your brother, of all people, got to be friends with him.

You didn’t really mean to end up meeting your brother’s friend—definitely not after you’d spent years pointedly ignoring their group whenever you saw them in the halls. But here you were, sitting in the library with your brother, who had been pestering you for days—begging, really—about helping him in Transfiguration. At first, you ignored him, telling him to figure it out on his own like everyone else.

He had struggled with some spell that McGonagall had been drilling the class on, and though you initially refused (because who really wanted to give up their free time to help their sibling?), his relentless begging finally wore you down.

"Okay, okay, fine!" you had snapped. "I’ll help you, just stop whining about it."

Now, watching your brother fail the same transformation for the tenth time, you were starting to regret your decision. "No, you’re flicking your wand too fast," you muttered, rubbing your temple. "It’s not a race, slow down and say the incantation clearly."

He groaned, clearly frustrated. "I am doing it right! You’re just a bad teacher!"

You shot him a sharp look, your patience already worn thin from the past hour of back-and-forth bickering. "Oh really? So it’s my fault you can’t turn a teacup into a tortoise?"

He slumped further into the chair, muttering under his breath while absentmindedly tapping his quill against the desk. You narrowed your eyes at him, watching as he lazily flicked through his notes without even looking at you.

“Are you even paying attention?” you snapped, crossing your arms. ��Or is this just a waste of both our time?”

He shrugged, not even bothering to lift his head. "I’m trying! It’s not like you’re explaining it any better than Professor McGonagall does."

You sighed, rubbing the bridge of your nose in frustration. "Maybe if you focused for five seconds instead of acting like this is some kind of joke, you’d actually get it."

He shot you a glare, the frustration clearly mutual. "Maybe if you weren’t so bossy, I wouldn’t have to!"

"You’re the one who begged me for help!" you snapped back. "If you don’t want it, just say so and I’ll leave."

For a second, there was silence between you, both of you glaring at each other.

“Hey, sorry to barge in. I didn’t know you’d be here.”

You looked up, and there he was - Yang Jungwon. He was standing next to your brother, a relaxed grin on his face as if he hadn’t just disrupted the painfully slow progress of your study session.

Your brother immediately perked up. “Oh, hey, Jungwon! I’ll be done in like… five minutes?” he said, casting a hopeful glance at you.

Jungwon’s eyes flickered over to you, curiosity lighting them up. “Oh, I didn’t know you had a tutor,” he teased, sliding into the chair opposite yours without waiting for an invitation.

You opened your mouth to retort that you weren’t a tutor, but your brother jumped in first. “Yeah, lucky me, right?” he said, grinning cheekily, ignoring the way you glared at him.

Jungwon chuckled softly, leaning back as though he had all the time in the world. “I’m Yang Jungwon, by the way,” he said, his gaze finally locking onto yours, and you couldn’t help but notice the warmth in his voice.

“Yeah, I know,” you replied, trying to sound indifferent but feeling a little thrown off. You hadn’t expected him to show up here of all places.

“So, what are you two studying? Transfiguration, right?” Jungwon asked, glancing at the textbook.

“Trying to,” you said, emphasizing the word as you shot a look at your brother. “Though, he’s not exactly the best student.”

Jungwon laughed, the sound easy and light, and you found yourself listening a little too closely. “I’m sure you’re doing fine. You always manage, don’t you?” he teased your brother, though his eyes kept flickering back to you. There was something in his gaze—curiosity, maybe, or amusement—that made it hard to look away.

You tried to refocus on your brother, but the atmosphere had shifted with Jungwon’s presence. And your brother seemed all too happy to let the tutoring session come to an abrupt end. Before you realized what was happening, he had packed up his things, slipping his quill and parchment into his bag with quick, practiced movements.

“Wait—hey, we’re not done,” you said, standing up from your seat, your voice carrying more frustration than intended.

Your brother shot you a cheeky grin, already halfway out the door with Jungwon by his side. “I’ll finish it eventually!" he called back, not even glancing over his shoulder.

You opened your mouth to protest further, but it was too late. The door shut with a soft click, and the sounds of their fading footsteps echoed down the hallway. You let out an exasperated sigh, sinking back into your chair, the weight of unfinished work settling on your shoulders.

Just as you were about to lay your head on the desk in defeat, you caught sight of Madam Pince, walking by with her usual stern expression. She stopped next to your table, clutching a book in her hands. “It’s a struggle, isn’t it?” she said, her voice softer than expected, though there was an unmistakable air of disapproval about her.

You blinked at her, still frustrated. “Yeah, something like that.”

Without another word, she handed you a thick, worn-out book you’d requested earlier—one you had specifically asked for to help your brother with his Transfiguration problems. The irony wasn’t lost on you as you stared at the cover.

"Here’s the book you asked for," Madam Pince added. "I hope it helps."

"Thanks," you muttered, though your enthusiasm had drained. The moment she left, you groaned and let your head fall onto the desk with a thud.

Typical. Your brother was off having fun while you were stuck with the work he was supposed to be doing. Just your luck.

/ᐠ ˵> ˕ <˵マ

The next day, you headed to the courtyard, spotting your brother lounging with a group of his friends—Jungwon included. You took a deep breath, trying to suppress the irritation bubbling up as you approached. In your hand was a rolled-up assignment for Transfiguration that he had yet to complete, and you weren’t about to let him get away with neglecting it.

“Hey,” you said, walking up to the group and dropping the assignment on his lap. “You need to finish this by tomorrow, or Professor McGonagall’s going to have your head.”

Your brother groaned dramatically but grabbed the parchment anyway. You were about to turn and leave when you noticed some of his friends eyeing you, their teasing smiles quickly making you uncomfortable.

“Hey, Y/N” one of them said with a sly grin. “Why haven’t we seen you around more? You should join us sometime.”

Another chimed in, leaning in slightly. “Yeah, maybe we could get to know you better. Bet you’re a lot more fun than your brother.”

You rolled your eyes, already tired of their attempts. But before you could respond, your brother cut in sharply. “Oi, knock it off. She’s off-limits,” he said, his tone protective. “No guy’s good enough for her.”

As much as you appreciated his overprotective attitude sometimes, this was one of those moments when it was more annoying than endearing. You crossed your arms and shot him a pointed look. “Excuse me? I decide when I want a boyfriend, and I sure don’t need your approval.”

He scoffed, leaning back as if he had the upper hand. “Yeah, well, you can’t just pick any random guy. I’m only looking out for you.”

You raised an eyebrow, your annoyance growing. “Looking out for me? You’re just trying to scare off everyone. I can handle myself, thank you very much.”

The bickering began to escalate, the two of you going back and forth as his friends watched with barely concealed amusement. It wasn’t until Jungwon, who had been watching quietly, stood up and approached that the argument came to an abrupt halt.

“Alright, that’s enough of that,” Jungwon said with a calm smile, but there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. He grabbed your wrist, gently but firmly. “I’m walking her to her next class.”

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard, but before you could protest, he was already leading you away from the group. “You—wait, what—”

“Trust me,” he interrupted smoothly, glancing at you with that same easy smile, “you’ll thank me later.”

You reluctantly let him guide you through the courtyard, your brother’s protests fading behind you. As you neared the Charms classroom, Jungwon slowed his pace, releasing your wrist and turning to face you.

“Well, here we are,” he said, his smile softening. Then, with a teasing tone, he added, “Though if you want me to walk you to class more often, all you have to do is ask.”

You raised an eyebrow, feeling your face heat up slightly at the unexpected flirtation. “Very smooth,” you muttered, trying to sound unimpressed, though the small smile tugging at your lips betrayed you.

Jungwon grinned, taking a step back. “I aim to please. See you around.” And with a casual wave, he walked off, leaving you standing at the door, your heart racing just a little faster than before.

The day after, you found out your brother had failed his Transfiguration lesson—again. Much to your dismay, you heard about it through one of his friends who casually mentioned it in passing, as though it was no big deal.

When you finally confronted him in the courtyard, his response was as nonchalant as ever.

“I failed, so what?” he said, leaning back and shrugging. “I’ll figure it out eventually. It’s just one lesson.”

You crossed your arms, glaring at him. “You do realize that if you fail again, Professor McGonagall will send a letter to our parents, right?”

That seemed to get his attention, but only for a moment. He still didn’t look particularly bothered, which only made your frustration grow.

“And,” you continued, eyes narrowing, “you won’t be allowed to continue playing Quidditch.”

His expression changed instantly, the casual attitude melting away as panic settled in. “Wait, what?”

You smirked slightly, leaning in as if to drive the point home. “Yeah. You think professor McGonagall’s going to let you get away with failing and still keep your spot on the team? Good luck with that.”

Your brother sat up straight, the reality of the situation sinking in. “But—Quidditch is… I can’t—” He ran a hand through his hair, looking genuinely worried now. “If I can’t play Quidditch, I’ll lose my spot for next year, and… and Mum and Dad will kill me if they find out I’ve been failing.”

You raised an eyebrow, enjoying the shift in power. “So maybe you should’ve taken our last session a little more seriously, huh?”

He shot you a desperate look, his usual bravado nowhere to be found. “Alright, fine! I get it. I messed up.”

You tilted your head, waiting for the inevitable.

“I need your help,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “I can’t afford to fail again, not with Quidditch on the line.”

You were just about to refuse—after all, you had warned him plenty of times before. But before you could get the words out, he pleaded, “No distractions this time. No friends, no tricks. Just me, focused, I swear. Please.”

You paused, arms crossed as you studied him. His expression was serious, and the desperation in his eyes was hard to ignore. It was a rare sight—your brother begging for your help without any sarcasm or half-hearted promises.

“I don’t know,” you said, pretending to think it over. “What’s in it for me?”

He groaned but quickly recovered, realizing this was his last shot. “Anything! I’ll do anything you ask, alright? Just… please.”

You smiled smugly, relishing the moment. “Anything, huh?”

He nodded frantically, looking like he’d sell his soul at this point if it meant saving his Quidditch spot.

“Alright,” you said, a slow grin spreading across your face. “I’ll help you… but I’ll be cashing in on that ‘anything’ promise sooner or later.”

He sighed in relief, though there was a hint of hesitation in his expression. “Fine, whatever you want.”

You smirked, feeling the upper hand. “Deal.”

True to his word, your brother showed up to the library that evening, looking more focused than you’d ever seen him when it came to schoolwork. He set his books and wand down on the table, already prepared to start, though you could still sense a bit of reluctance in his posture.

“Alright,” you said, sitting across from him and opening the Transfiguration book to the chapter on animal transformations. “No distractions. No shortcuts. You’re going to get this right if it’s the last thing I do.”

He nodded, swallowing hard. “I’ll try.”

You pulled out a teacup, placing it in front of him as you tapped your fingers on the table. “Okay, you know the incantation. Focus on the form of the animal, not just the spell. Visualize it fully.”

He sighed, gripping his wand tightly. “I know, I know. It’s just… hard.”

“Not an excuse,” you said, not letting him off the hook. “Go on.”

He took a deep breath, aiming his wand at the teacup. “Vera Verto.”

The teacup shook slightly, wobbling on the table before it started to change shape—slowly, very slowly. For a moment, it seemed like he might actually do it. But just as the teacup began to take the form of a small tortoise, it reverted back to its original state with a sharp clink.

He groaned, slumping back in his chair. “See? I can’t do it.”

“You’re close,” you said, keeping your voice calm even though you were starting to get frustrated too. “You’re overthinking the spell. Don’t rush it—focus on the animal’s form.”

He sat up straighter, taking a deep breath. “Okay, okay… let’s try again.”

Over the next hour, you guided him through the steps again and again, watching as he tried—and failed—repeatedly to get the teacup to fully transform. Each time, it got closer, but never quite there. Either the tortoise would have an odd shape, or the spell would falter halfway through.

Your patience started wearing thin, but you pushed through, determined to help him succeed.

“Look,” you said, leaning over the table and pointing at the page in the book. “You’re rushing the incantation. Break it down, slower this time.”

He nodded, taking your advice seriously for once. He aimed his wand at the teacup again, this time speaking the spell more carefully, enunciating each word with deliberate focus. “Vera Verto.”

The teacup quivered again, its edges shifting into a shell. Slowly, the handle morphed into a tiny, clawed foot. You both watched as the tortoise’s form finally solidified. A small, slow-moving tortoise now sat on the table, blinking up at you.

Your brother’s face lit up in surprise, his mouth falling open. “I did it?”

You couldn’t help but smile, despite yourself. “You actually did it.”

He beamed, picking up the tortoise carefully as if he couldn’t believe it. “Finally! Merlin’s beard, I didn’t think I’d ever get it.”

“Yeah, well,” you said, leaning back in your chair, “you only got there because I was a great teacher.”

He snorted, setting the tortoise back on the table. “Yeah, yeah, sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

You raised an eyebrow, playfully swatting him on the arm. “Don’t push your luck. Remember, you still owe me for this.”

He winced, but a grin tugged at his lips. “Alright, alright.”

You smirked, already plotting.

The next day, your brother returned from his Transfiguration class with a huge grin plastered on his face. He practically burst into the Grand Hall, eyes alight with excitement, and you knew immediately that something had gone well.

“I did it!” he exclaimed, rushing over to where you were seated. “I actually did it!”

You raised an eyebrow, setting your book aside. “Wait, you actually passed?”

“Not just passed,” he said, standing tall, practically puffing out his chest. “I nailed it! McGonagall didn’t even have to correct me once. She even said it was one of the best transformations in class!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at how giddy he looked, the tension from the past few days completely gone from his shoulders. “I’m impressed. I didn’t think you’d pull it off, honestly.”

“Hey, I’m not that hopeless,” he shot back, but his smile stayed wide and bright. “But seriously, thanks to you. If you hadn’t made me practice all those times, I’d still be failing.”

You smirked, giving him a mock-salute. “Well, that’s what good teachers do. And, you know, you can keep playing Quidditch now, so I guess that’s a bonus.”

At the mention of Quidditch, his excitement seemed to double. “Yes! Merlin, if I had to quit the team, I’d be dead. There’s no way I’m telling Mum and Dad that I failed Transfiguration and got kicked off the team.”

You chuckled, watching him bounce on his feet like an overexcited first-year. “Well, you don’t have to worry about that anymore. Now you can focus on your matches without McGonagall breathing down your neck.”

He nodded eagerly, practically vibrating with joy. “Exactly! I can’t wait for the next practice. I’m going to crush it.”

You shook your head, amused at how his mood had completely flipped from just a few days ago. “Just remember to keep up with your studies, alright? I’m not going to bail you out every time you forget to do your homework.”

He gave you a mock pout. “What, you’re not going to tutor me forever?”

“Not a chance,” you said, laughing. “I’ve got my own work to focus on. You’ll just have to survive on your own from now on.”

He groaned dramatically but was clearly too happy to complain for real. “Fine, fine. But seriously, thanks. I owe you big time.”

You grinned, leaning back in your chair. “I’ll hold you to that.”

As he ran off to tell his friends the good news, you couldn’t help but feel a little proud of him. Despite all the bickering and the endless complaints, he had finally pulled it off. And, in a way, it felt like a win for both of you.

/ᐠ ˵> ˕ <˵マ

The courtyard was buzzing with students enjoying a rare free afternoon, and your brother, now full of confidence from his recent success in Transfiguration, had taken it upon himself to show off his newfound skills. With a small group gathered around him, he cast spell after spell, transforming objects into animals with exaggerated flair. He was basking in the attention, especially from his friends, who cheered every time he succeeded.

"Watch this!" your brother said proudly, aiming his wand at a stray quill. “Vera Verto!”

The quill shifted into a small, fluffy rabbit, hopping around on the cobblestone, much to the crowd’s delight. He grinned, feeling invincible now that he had McGonagall’s praise under his belt. Emboldened, he attempted another transformation, but his next spell shot out of his wand faster than he anticipated. It veered wildly across the courtyard, completely missing the intended target.

The errant spell flew in an arc, headed straight for the far end of the courtyard where Jungwon had just been walking, completely unaware of the chaotic show your brother was putting on. Before anyone could react, the spell hit Jungwon square in the back.

In a flash, the Hufflepuff boy wasn’t standing there anymore.

Instead, a small black cat with bright, intelligent eyes stood in his place, looking confused for a split second. Jungwon—or rather, the cat that had been Jungwon—flicked his tail and darted away before anyone in the crowd could notice the commotion. He vanished between the hedges that lined the courtyard, disappearing into the maze of gardens beyond.

Your brother stood frozen for a moment, his eyes wide as he realized what had happened. One of his friends nudged him, oblivious to the seriousness of the situation. "Nicely done! What did you hit this time?"

“Uh…” he stammered, looking in the direction where Jungwon had been, but the cat was long gone. “I think I might’ve just… hit someone.”

One of the other students burst into laughter, thinking it was part of the fun. “What, you turned someone into a rabbit again?”

Your brother didn’t laugh. “No. Worse. I think I just turned Jungwon into a cat.”

The laughter around him died down quickly as the reality of what he’d done began to settle in. “What do you mean, a cat?” one of his friends asked, their tone becoming more serious.

But before your brother could respond, he was already hurrying toward the edge of the courtyard, scanning the area where Jungwon had disappeared. “We have to find him before anyone else does!” he muttered to himself, a growing sense of dread filling him.

However, Jungwon—or the cat—was nowhere in sight. He had bolted the moment the spell hit, and now he had vanished without a trace, leaving your brother to deal with the consequences of his reckless display.

The problem was, turning someone into an animal was one thing—but reversing it? That was a whole different level of Transfiguration.

Your brother searched frantically, darting around the courtyard and calling out for Jungwon. “Jungwon! Where are you?” he shouted, a note of desperation creeping into his voice. The laughter from his friends had faded, replaced by concerned murmurs as they began to realize the seriousness of the situation.

He sprinted around the corner where Jungwon had vanished, scanning every nook and cranny, every shadow cast by the towering castle walls. “Come on, this isn’t funny!” he pleaded, hoping that maybe, just maybe, Jungwon would pop out from behind a bush or the edge of a statue, ready to reveal that it had all been a prank.

But Hogwarts was vast, and as the minutes stretched on, the reality began to sink in. Jungwon—now a cat—had disappeared without a trace. Your brother ran a hand through his hair, panic rising within him. He couldn't afford to get caught for this.

Turning back to his friends, he lowered his voice, urgency clear in his tone. “Okay, listen. You can’t say anything about this. If any professors find out Jungwon is missing, we’ll all be in trouble. We need to find him before anyone notices.”

His friends exchanged worried glances but nodded in agreement. They understood how serious the situation was. “Right,” one of them said, trying to lighten the mood, though the tension was palpable. “Let’s just act like we’re studying for the next couple of hours. If we can’t find Jungwon, maybe he’ll come back on his own.”

Your brother nodded, but doubt gnawed at him. What if he didn’t? He felt responsible—if he hadn’t been so eager to show off, Jungwon wouldn’t have been turned into a cat in the first place. “We’ll check all the usual spots,” he said, determination sparking in his eyes. “He might head for the Hufflepuff common room or the kitchens.”

They split up, your brother retracing his steps back through the castle, checking every corner, every common area, and even asking other students if they’d seen a small black cat. But the castle was sprawling and labyrinthine; the longer he searched, the more overwhelmed he felt.

As the minutes turned into an hour, frustration bubbled up inside him. “This is pointless!” he muttered under his breath, leaning against a wall in a deserted corridor. “How could I let this happen?”

After another fruitless round, he finally returned to the courtyard, panting slightly. His friends were gathered in a huddle, whispering amongst themselves, and he felt a flicker of hope. “Did you find anything?”

One of his friends shook his head. “No sign of him anywhere. It’s like he just vanished.”

Your brother sighed, frustration and guilt mingling in his chest. “If we don’t find him soon, it’s only a matter of time before someone notices he’s missing from class. Professor McGonagall will have our heads.”

Just then, a flicker of movement caught his eye. He turned, but it was only a crow flitting across the courtyard, cawing loudly. Your brother’s heart sank. Hogwarts was just too big; how could he possibly find Jungwon in a castle that could swallow whole entire groups of students?

With a defeated expression, he sank onto a bench, burying his face in his hands. “What am I going to do? I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

His friends joined him, unsure of how to comfort him. “We’ll figure it out,” one of them said, trying to reassure him. “We just need to keep looking.”

But deep down, your brother couldn’t shake the feeling that they were running out of time. He was the one responsible for turning Jungwon into a cat.

/ᐠ ˵> ˕ <˵マ

You were sitting on the ground near the edge of the Hogwarts grounds, tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the courtyard. The view was peaceful, and with a gentle breeze rustling the trees around you, it felt like a perfect moment to relax with your book.

Just as you settled into the first chapter, a small rustling sound caught your attention.. You looked up, surprised to see a small black cat making its way toward you, its greenish-gold eyes trained intently on you. The cat was sleek, with a slight glimmer to its fur under the sunlight, and it moved gracefully, weaving through the grass until it was at your feet.

“Hey there, little one,” you murmured, smiling as the cat sat down, regarding you with an almost curious gaze. Without hesitation, it leaped into your lap, settling down with a soft, contented purr.

The book forgotten, you brought a hand up to stroke its head, running your fingers gently over its soft fur. The cat’s purring grew louder, and it nestled into you, pressing its tiny head against your hand as if asking for more.

“Well, aren’t you a friendly one?” you said, chuckling as it leaned into your touch. You hadn’t expected it, but this little black cat was endearing itself to you quickly. Every time you paused in your petting, it would nudge its head under your hand, practically demanding more affection.

You laughed, charmed by the cat’s insistence. “Alright, alright, you win. More pets it is,” you murmured, resuming your gentle strokes.

The cat sprawled out across your lap, stretching its small limbs and settling back down with a sigh, its eyes half-closed as it drifted into a state of utter relaxation.

Minutes slipped by as you sat there, the black cat curled up happily in your lap, and any thoughts of returning to your book faded completely. “What’s a cat like you doing out here all by yourself?” you asked softly, smiling as it nudged its head up to meet your gaze. The cat simply blinked at you, its eyes clear and bright, before it began to purr even louder, pressing its small paws against your legs in a way that was almost… human-like.

You let out a small laugh, rubbing your thumb over the top of its head. “Alright, alright, you’re stealing all my attention,” you murmured. “I should be reading, but you’re just too cute.” The cat looked up at you with an expression that almost seemed like a smirk before closing its eyes again, purring louder than ever.

With a contented sigh, you leaned back against the tree, unaware that you’d just found Jungwon—and that he was thoroughly enjoying your company.

Eventually, the afternoon sun began to dip lower, and you knew it was time to return to the castle. With a sigh, you shifted in your seat, giving the cat a gentle nudge to encourage it off your lap.

“Alright, little one. I have to get back,” you murmured. The cat gave a low, disappointed-sounding meow, but leapt gracefully onto the ground as you stood. Just as you turned to gather your things, however, the cat started to weave between your ankles, pawing at your robes with insistent little meows.

You tried taking a step, but the cat was immediately at your heels, pressing against your leg as though it had no intention of letting you leave. When you moved forward, it darted up and batted playfully at your robes, trying to climb up and cling on as you walked.

“Oh, Merlin, you really don’t want me to go, do you?” you muttered, bending down to scoop the cat into your arms. As soon as you lifted it, it relaxed, its head nuzzling against your neck as it purred deeply, seeming more than content to be carried. You couldn’t help but smile, feeling the soft fur warm against your skin and the gentle tickle of its whiskers along your throat.

“Alright, you can come with me,” you said with a soft chuckle, the cat’s wide eyes blinking up at you as though it fully understood. You held it securely, feeling the vibrations of its purring as it squished its head into the crook of your neck. It was surprisingly calming, and you found yourself enjoying the quiet presence of this affectionate little creature as you made your way back through the castle halls.

By the time you reached your common room, you had half a mind to keep it, especially as it snuggled closer, its whiskers brushing against your chin. “I’ll have to find your owner,” you whispered, though the cat gave no sign it wanted to leave your arms any time soon.

With a sigh, you stepped into the common room, glancing around at your fellow housemates and wondering if any of them had ever seen this black cat before. But as you felt the warmth of its tiny body snuggled against you, part of you wasn’t in any hurry to hand it over.

As you asked around the common room, you realized none of your housemates recognized the little black cat nestled in your arms. Some shrugged, while others asked to pet it, and each time you shook your head, a small part of you felt a guilty spark of relief. No one knew where it had come from, and no one seemed to be looking for it.

With the sky darkening outside and a long day behind you, you headed up to your dorm to change, gently setting the cat down as you pulled on your coziest clothes. No sooner had you settled onto your bed than the cat leapt up, its movements silent and smooth. It padded around your blankets, kneading the fabric with its tiny paws and purring so loudly you couldn’t help but smile.

“Oh, no, no—if the house-elves find fur on the bed, they’ll be mad” you muttered, making a half-hearted attempt to shoo the cat off your bed. But when it turned and met your gaze, its bright eyes watching you with an innocent curiosity, you found yourself softening. The cat tilted its head, curling up against your side, its eyes half-closed as if perfectly content in your presence.

“Fine, you can stay,” you sighed, scooting over to make a little more room. The cat wasted no time, settling down right next to you and resting its tiny head on the blanket as if it belonged there.

With each slow, deep rumble of its purr, a calmness settled over you. You rested a hand lightly on its back, feeling the softness of its fur under your fingers. Soon, its gentle kneading softened, and the rhythmic rise and fall of its breathing lulled you into a state of relaxation.

Just as your eyes were beginning to flutter closed, the cat shifted, moving to rest its head against your hand, a contented weight in the dim quiet of the room. You chuckled softly, feeling the warmth of the small creature by your side, and drifted into sleep, the cat’s purring accompanying you into peaceful dreams.

/ᐠ ˵> ˕ <˵マ

Jungwon blinked, his new vision sharper in the dim light, taking in every detail of your sleeping face. The feline instincts were strong—comforting, even—but his human mind lingered just beneath them, stirring with a confusing blend of emotions.

When he’d first bolted from the courtyard, his mind had been clouded with panic. All he could think of was escaping, getting somewhere quiet, somewhere safe. But then he’d picked up on your scent—soft, familiar—and without a second thought, he’d followed it. His cat instincts hadn’t questioned why; they simply led him to you, to the one place that felt right.

Now, as he curled beside you, his heart pounded in a strange mixture of relief and guilt. He should be searching for help, finding someone who could reverse the spell and put an end to this humiliating predicament. But looking at you now, seeing the peaceful expression on your face and the faint smile gracing your lips, he felt something different.

You looked… happy. Content. The way you had opened your arms to him, stroking his fur and letting him stay close—it had made his heart race even in this small, helpless form. In the past, he’d admired you from a distance, always caught off guard by his nerves whenever you were near. But here, under the guise of this small, black cat, he was finally close to you without the hesitance.

He felt torn, his human logic telling him this was ridiculous—he had to find a professor, get back to normal, explain to you what happened. But another part of him—the soft purrs escaping without his control, the way his little paws kept kneading against the blanket—wanted to stay just a little longer. Just until the morning.

For now, he let himself settle into the comfort of your presence, letting his instincts guide him. After all, you looked far too pretty to disturb with a frown when you found out the truth.

/ᐠ ˵> ˕ <˵マ

The days slipped by, and despite your best efforts, you found yourself no closer to finding the cat’s owner. You’d asked around, stopping classmates in the hall, mentioning the small black cat that had so readily taken up residence on your bed, but no one claimed it. Each time, you received the same answers—shakes of the head, puzzled expressions, a few amused smiles.

With every passing day, the cat became more of a fixture in your life. Each morning before leaving for class, you’d give him a little scratch behind the ears, feeling his soft purrs ripple through your hand. And each evening, you’d return to find him curled up in the same spot on your bed, his little form nestled in the blankets, his tiny paws tucked under his chest as if he owned the place. There was something comforting about his presence, and you noticed how he’d glance up at you with those intense, knowing eyes every time you walked in, as if he’d been waiting for you all day.

The cat—who you’d started calling “Onyx” in your head—seemed perfectly content. He’d stretch luxuriously when you arrived, basking in any attention you or your housemates would give him, blinking slowly and rubbing his head against your hand, as if he were marking you as his own. And he was endlessly spoiled by your housemates, who would sneak in to pet him whenever they could, laughing over his unusual attachment to you.

Meanwhile, your brother seemed on the verge of a complete breakdown. Every time you caught sight of him in the hallways, he was muttering under his breath, eyes darting around as if he expected Jungwon to materialize out of thin air. His friends could barely keep up with his frantic pace as he searched the school from top to bottom, interrogating classmates, making excuses to professors, and even peeking into the kitchens.

One afternoon, when you saw him dashing through the courtyard, you raised an eyebrow at him. “You look like you’re about to explode. What’s going on?”

He ran a hand through his hair, clearly exasperated. “Nothing, nothing—just… I lost something really important. And if I don’t find it soon, I’m going to be in so much trouble,” he said, casting a wary glance over his shoulder as though he expected it to appear any second.

You patted his shoulder, offering him a sympathetic smile. “Good luck, then. I’m sure you’ll find it,” you said, trying to reassure him. But you had no idea that the “lost item” he was so desperately searching for was happily snoozing on your bed, completely unaware of the chaos he’d left in his wake.

Jungwon, or Onyx, stretched lazily, content to continue napping in the warm scent of your blankets, savoring each gentle pet and scratching his cheek against your hand whenever you came close. His human instincts occasionally tugged at him, whispering that he should reveal himself, that he should find a way back to normal. But the comfort of your presence, the gentle affection, and the sound of your laughter as you spoke to him were too good to leave just yet.

Four days after you’d found the little black cat, it struck you that you hadn’t seen Jungwon around. Usually, you’d spot him at least once a day—sitting with your brother at meals, laughing with his Hufflepuff friends in the courtyard, or even catching him in the hallways. But now that you thought about it, he’d been strangely absent, his cheerful presence nowhere to be found.

Curious, you tracked down your brother between classes, catching him just as he was shoving books into his bag. “Hey, have you seen Jungwon? It’s been days. Is he alright?”

Your brother stiffened ever so slightly before glancing up with what he probably hoped was a casual look. “Jungwon? Oh, yeah, he’s… he’s fine. Just sick. Nothing to worry about.”

You raised an eyebrow at his rushed answer. “Really? I thought he’d usually be back by now. He’s not usually the type to miss this much class.”

“He’ll be back soon, don’t worry about it,” your brother said quickly, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “He’s probably just lying low until he feels better.”

“Alright… well, tell him I hope he feels better,” you said, giving him a small smile before turning back to your own things.

Your brother nodded, though his face was tight with worry. But you didn’t notice his nervous glances, already distracted by the thought of getting back to “Onyx,” who was likely curled up on your bed, waiting for you. You didn’t give Jungwon’s absence much more thought, trusting your brother’s explanation, but you made a mental note to check in with Jungwon as soon as he returned.

When you slipped into your dorm room, carefully unwrapping the napkin bundle, the savory scent of chicken filled the air, and the cat immediately perked up. The moment you set the pieces down, he eagerly devoured them, tail flicking with excitement. You chuckled softly, watching as he polished off every last bite, licking his lips in pure satisfaction.

As you turned to grab your bag, Onyx suddenly jumped up, landing neatly on your shoulder. Startled, you reached up instinctively to hold him steady, and he nuzzled against you, purring loudly. You couldn’t help but laugh, scratching behind his ear. “You know I have to go, right?”

Onyx blinked at you, his bright eyes wide, and let out a small, soft meow, almost pleading. His paws lightly pressed against your chest as he settled into your arms, curling his tiny body closer as if he had no intention of letting you leave.

“Alright, alright…” you sighed, giving in as he snuggled into your embrace. Muggle Studies could wait, couldn’t it? What were a few facts about telephones compared to this soft, warm ball of fluff purring contently against you? You slipped off your shoes, set your bag down, and climbed onto your bed, pulling the blankets over the both of you as Onyx nestled against your shoulder, his purring a gentle hum in the quiet room.

As you traced gentle patterns along his fur, he stretched his little head up, his whiskers tickling your cheek as he nuzzled closer, eyes half-closed with contentment. The warmth of the moment filled you with a sense of peace, and you drifted off into a light nap, your arm curled protectively around him, wondering absently why this small creature felt so right here with you.

The following day, as you sat nestled in a corner of the library, flipping through your notes, your brother slid into the seat across from you, an odd look on his face. You glanced up, raising an eyebrow at his nervous expression.

“Hey, I need… um, a little help with something,” he started, tapping his fingers against the table.

You set your quill down. “Alright, spill it. What’s going on?”

He cleared his throat, glancing around as if worried someone might overhear. “I just… well, I wanted to know the incantation to reverse… an animal transformation. You know, from animal back to human.”

“An animal transformation?” you repeated, giving him a quizzical look. “Why would you need that? Unless…” You narrowed your eyes. “Don’t tell me you’ve been practicing transfiguration spells on yourself or your friends.”

He waved his hand dismissively, though his nervous laugh didn’t help his case. “Nothing like that. I’m just… curious! Thought I’d get a head start, just in case we need it for class.” His voice was unconvincing, and you tilted your head, not buying it.

“Uh-huh. Right. So you just need a random incantation for a transfiguration reversal?” you pressed, crossing your arms.

“Exactly,” he said, nodding eagerly. “It’s really just for, you know, future knowledge.”

You weren’t convinced, but he was desperate, and you found yourself softening under his pleading gaze. “Fine, I’ll teach you. But you owe me—no, you owe me two favors for this.” You held up two fingers, your expression firm.

“Deal,” he said instantly, relief flashing across his face.

With a sigh, you gestured for him to take a seat beside you, flipping open your transfiguration notes. “Alright, listen carefully. The reversal incantation isn’t simple. You have to focus on the original form of the person and their essence before casting. If you don’t concentrate, it’ll either fail or, worse, only half-work,” you explained, watching as he nodded along, his expression tense.

As you practiced the incantation with him, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to this story. But, for now, you focused on teaching him the spell, repeating it until he could say it smoothly, his confidence growing with each repetition.

"Just… remember, don’t go using this on any poor creatures for ‘fun,’ alright?” you added as you finished up, giving him a stern look.

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” he replied, though his gaze darted away. You rolled your eyes, hoping he’d stick to his word.

/ᐠ ˵> ˕ <˵マ

As the days stretched on, Jungwon felt the line between his human and feline instincts beginning to blur. He’d started feeling strange, odd urges pulling at him that he didn’t quite understand but felt impossible to resist. The need to chase things that moved quickly—flickering lights, loose threads, even the feathery tips of your quill as you wrote—all of it stirred a primal thrill in him. His ears perked up at the slightest sounds, and he found himself irresistibly drawn to the cozy comfort of curling up beside you.

At night, he’d stretch out over your stomach or chest, his paws kneading into you as he settled down. The warmth of your body and the steady rise and fall of your breathing soothed him, and he would close his eyes, purring loudly as he drifted off. During the day, whenever you studied in the common room, he would find a spot to settle between your thighs, his little head resting comfortably against your leg, peeking up at you whenever he wanted a little scratch behind the ears.

But the more he settled into his role as your personal shadow, the more possessive he became. If one of your male housemates so much as got too close, his eyes would narrow, his ears flattening as a low, warning hiss escaped him. His back would arch slightly, and they would back off quickly, shooting you wide-eyed looks as they muttered apologies. The second they were gone, Jungwon would leap up onto your shoulders, his tail flicking with satisfaction as he licked your cheek, snuggling against you as if to say, Mine.

When you wore oversized hoodies or sweaters, he couldn’t resist crawling under the soft, cozy fabric, his little head poking out at your collar. It was his favorite spot, snug and warm, and he’d curl up contentedly, letting out a rumbling purr every time you scratched his head. Your housemates couldn’t help but laugh, dubbing him “your son” and teasing you whenever he was glued to your side.

“He’s practically attached to you, isn’t he?” one of your friends laughed as Jungwon, true to form, climbed onto your lap and lay there, eyes half-closed in contentment.

You shrugged, petting him gently. “Guess he just knows he’s found someone who’ll spoil him.”

He would chase after loose threads from your clothes, batting them playfully with his paws as if they were the most fascinating toys in the world. His playful antics brought you endless joy; you often found yourself laughing as he pounced and rolled, completely entranced by his own reflection in a nearby window.

When nighttime fell and you settled into bed, Jungwon would curl up on your chest, his small, warm body rising and falling with each breath you took. In those quiet moments, he would gaze up at you with wide, adoring eyes, completely mesmerized. In his cat mind, you were the woman for him—his perfect companion. He would think about how soft your skin was and how lovely it was to be close to you, relishing the sound of your heartbeat beneath him.

He became clingier than ever, following you around the common room and weaving through your legs, his purring becoming a constant background noise in your life. If you left the room, he’d meow softly, almost in protest, as if urging you to come back. When you weren’t around, Jungwon would curl up on your bed, his eyes half-closed as he waited patiently for your return. Each time he heard the sound of the door opening, he’d perk up, tail flicking excitedly, ready to shower you with affection the moment you stepped inside.

If you were studying or hanging out with friends, Jungwon would find a way to squeeze into your lap or snuggle against your side, his soft fur inviting you to pet him.

He would often steal your attention, meowing softly until you looked down at him, his bright eyes pleading for affection.

Your pet owl, however, became a rare source of conflict. The moment you started cooing to it, stroking its feathers, Jungwon would watch with narrowed eyes, his gaze intent, as if he were sizing up a rival. He’d immediately trot over to you, swatting gently at your hand with his paw, a soft mrrp leaving his mouth as he demanded your attention. If you gave in, he’d snuggle close, basking in the affection as if he’d won some unspoken victory.

To everyone else, it was obvious you had somehow become this little black cat’s world.

/ᐠ ˵> ˕ <˵マ

One crisp afternoon, you stepped out of your dorm with your housemates, the sun streaming through the tall windows of Hogwarts. You all laughed and chatted, excitement buzzing in the air as you discussed plans for the weekend. Just as you were about to leave the common room, one of your friends suddenly exclaimed, “Oh no! I forgot my Potions book!”

“I’ll be right back!” they called, dashing back inside the cozy room.

The rest of you continued down the corridor, blissfully unaware that the door had swung ajar, leaving just enough space for a curious little black cat to slip through unnoticed. Jungwon, feeling adventurous, seized the opportunity to dart after your friends, his instincts kicking in as he decided to trust his nose to find you. Your perfume—sweet and comforting—drew him in like a moth to a flame.

Navigating the familiar halls of Hogwarts, he quickly made his way through the bustling corridors, weaving past students and ignoring the occasional glance thrown his way.

Finally, he spotted you in the courtyard, nestled comfortably on a bench with your favorite book in hand. The sunlight filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows around you, and for a moment, Jungwon was mesmerized by how serene you looked, completely absorbed in your reading. He couldn’t help but let out a little meow, excitement bubbling up as he began to sprint toward you.

But just as he was about to reach you, your brother appeared out of nowhere, stepping directly into Jungwon’s path. The sudden block caught him off guard, and he skidded to a halt, a startled yelp escaping his mouth. Your brother crouched down, arms outstretched, attempting to scoop Jungwon up, but he had other plans.

With a quick flick of his paw, Jungwon hissed, his instincts kicking in as he squirmed to escape. “Hey! No!” your brother protested, eyes widening as he struggled to keep a hold on the wriggling black cat.

Jungwon protested, hissing and wriggling in his grip, desperately trying to escape. The sound was startling and unusual, catching the attention of several students nearby who turned to witness the scene unfolding, including yours.

“What’s happening?” you shouted, your heart dropping as you recognized the little black cat your brother was trying to grab. “Onyx!”

At the sound of your voice, Jungwon's ears perked up, and he whipped around to look at you, desperate for help. Before your brother could fully grasp him, Jungwon managed to twist free from his grip, leaping out of his hands and bounding straight into yours.

You caught him with a gasp, the soft weight of him settling against you instantly warming your heart. “What are you doing?” you exclaimed, cradling him protectively as you shot a glance at your brother. Jungwon meanwhile purred loudly, rubbing his cheek against your hand as if to say, Yes, this is exactly where I want to be.

“What’s going on?” you asked, concern lacing your voice as you glanced at your brother.

“Uh, it’s nothing, really,” he replied, attempting to brush off the situation with a half-hearted smile.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Come on, just tell me the truth.”

Your brother sighed, his shoulders slumping as he relented. “Okay, okay! The cat you’re holding... it’s Jungwon. I, um, accidentally turned him into a cat during Transfiguration practice.”

Your heart sank as you looked down at Jungwon, who was nestled comfortably against your chest, blissfully unaware of the chaos surrounding him. “Are you sure this is Jungwon?” you asked, concern lacing your voice.

He nodded vigorously, a hint of guilt flashing in his eyes. “I swear! It was an accident! I didn’t mean for it to happen, I just—”

With a deep sigh, you set Jungwon down gently, your mind racing. Pulling out your wand, you focused on the spell needed to reverse the transformation. “Alright, just hold still, Jungwon,” you instructed softly. “Reverso Animus!” you said clearly, watching as the familiar golden light enveloped Jungwon.

In an instant, the small black cat began to shimmer and shift, growing in size until you were staring at the unmistakable form of Jungwon himself. Your eyes widened in shock as he stood up slowly, looking at his hands, then down at his body as if he couldn’t believe he was back to normal.

“I’m back!” he exclaimed, a bright smile spreading across his face, laughter bubbling up as his friends and your brother rushed to surround him, excitement and relief evident on their faces.

“I’m so sorry, Jungwon!” your brother shouted over the commotion, his voice filled with a thousand apologies, clearly trying to make amends for his mistake. “I didn’t mean to!”

Jungwon squirmed in the midst of his friends, a frown tugging at his lips as he watched you walk away. His heart raced, the familiar urge to be near you pulling at him like a magnetic force. He tried to push through the throng of excited voices and laughter, reaching out for you with desperation, but his friends held him back, oblivious to the intensity of his need to follow.

“Come on, Jungwon! Celebrate with us!” one of them cheered, clapping him on the back, but Jungwon could barely muster a smile. His eyes remained locked on your retreating figure, the sight of you disappearing into the building stirring a pang of disappointment within him.

“Come on, Jungwon! You’ve got to tell us everything!” one of them exclaimed, laughing as they playfully tousled his hair. Another chimed in, “You’ve been a cat for days! We want the scoop!”

He felt the playful nudges and laughter of his friends, but they only served to heighten his frustration. No longer just a cat who sought warmth and comfort, he was a boy desperate for connection, with you. He bit his lip, glancing between your back and the cheerful faces surrounding him, feeling an overwhelming urge to break free.

When you finally disappeared through the doors, Jungwon’s heart sank. With a determined huff, he pushed past the clutches of his friends, murmuring a half-hearted excuse that went unnoticed amidst their excitement.

“Guys, I’ll be right back!” he called out, his voice firm as he took off in the direction you had gone.

He navigated the winding corridors of Hogwarts, his mind racing as he thought of all the things he wanted to say. I’m sorry for the chaos, he wanted to tell you. Thank you for changing me back, and more than anything, I love you.

However, as he rounded a corner near the Great Hall, he lost sight of you. The bustling crowd of students moved like a tide, and just like that, you were gone. A wave of defeat washed over him. He pushed through the throngs, glancing into classrooms and common areas, calling your name softly, but there was no response.

Frustration bubbled within him, mingling with disappointment. Why did I let them hold me back? he berated himself. He felt like a fool for not breaking away sooner, for not insisting on finding you right away.

With a heavy sigh, he leaned against the cool stone wall, he could picture the look of confusion on your face, the hurt in your eyes when you realized.

“I’ll find you tomorrow,” he promised himself, determination creeping back in. It would have to be enough for now. He knew he had to make it right, to explain everything and show you just how much he valued you.

Resolving to make a plan, Jungwon walked back to the common room, his mind swirling with ideas. He would catch you after class, or maybe in the courtyard where you often read. He’d find a way to make sure you heard him, no matter what it took. Tomorrow, he would not let anything—or anyone—get in the way of what he needed to say.

/ᐠ ˵> ˕ <˵マ

The next day, the bustling halls of Hogwarts seemed to stretch endlessly as Jungwon searched for you, his heart pounding with anticipation. After your final class, he spotted you in the corridor, laughter spilling from your lips as you chatted with a few friends. His heart raced at the sight of you, and he felt a surge of determination.

Summoning every ounce of courage, he quietly approached from behind, his nerves buzzing. Before he could second-guess himself, he gently pulled you into an empty classroom, the door clicking shut behind you with a soft thud.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice steady yet filled with urgency, “we need to talk.”

You blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift in the atmosphere. The moment felt charged, a whirlwind of emotions swirling between you. Jungwon took a moment to gather his thoughts, his gaze unwavering. “I’ve wanted to say this for so long,” he continued, stepping closer. “I love being with you. These past days, especially with everything that happened when I was… you know, a cat. I didn’t realize just how much I needed you.”

Your heart raced at his confession. “Jungwon, I… I didn’t know you felt that way,” you stammered, surprised by the warmth blooming in your chest. The memories of cuddling with him as a cat rushed back—his soft purrs, the way he’d nuzzle against you, how safe and happy he made you feel. “You showed me your vulnerable side. I cared for you so much, and I want to be with you too, but I need some time to process everything that happened.”

Jungwon’s expression softened, understanding flooding his eyes. “I get it,” he said gently, taking a step closer. “But I want you to know how I feel. I loved every moment we spent together, even when I was just a cat. You were there for me, and it felt so real. It’s like I could finally be myself around you.”

You felt your heart swell at his words, the sincerity behind them washing over you like a warm tide, glancing down at your feet for a moment, feeling the weight of your feelings pressing on your chest. “It was confusing at first. But seeing you back as Jungwon… it feels so right.”

Jungwon stepped even closer, his hand brushing against yours, sending a spark of electricity up your arm. “I care about you so much, Y/N. It’s like you’re my safe place, and I want to be able to share everything with you, the good and the bad.”

His sincerity wrapped around you like a warm blanket, and you couldn’t help but lean closer, feeling drawn to him in ways you couldn’t explain. “I feel that way too,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper.

“We can take it slow, see where this leads us without rushing. I just want to be with you, no matter the form it takes.”

Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a warm embrace. You melted against him, feeling the tension dissolve in the comfort of his presence.

When you both pulled back slightly, Jungwon's expression turned serious. “If you ever feel unsure or need space, just tell me, okay? I want you to feel safe with me.”

You nodded, appreciating his sensitivity. “I promise.”

He smiled, a mixture of relief and affection lighting up his face.

/ᐠ ˵> ˕ <˵マ

Over the next two days, your mind was a whirlwind of emotions. Every moment was filled with thoughts of Jungwon, replaying your conversation in that empty classroom. You knew you had to make a decision, and every time you thought of him, your heart swelled with a sense of belonging and excitement.

Finally, the day arrived when you couldn’t hold it in any longer. After your last class, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself as you made your way through the bustling halls of Hogwarts, searching for him. When you spotted Jungwon leaning against a wall, laughing with a couple of friends, your heart raced.

“Hey, can we talk?” you called, trying to sound casual, though your nerves were anything but.

His gaze shifted to you, and the moment he saw you, his smile widened. “Of course!” He excused himself from his friends and walked toward you, the laughter fading as anticipation filled the air.

You took a deep breath, glancing down momentarily to gather your thoughts. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what we talked about the other day,” you began, feeling your heart race. “And I realized… I want to be together.”

Jungwon’s eyes lit up with joy, and before you could react, he stepped forward and twirled you around in an ecstatic hug. “Really? Are you serious?” he exclaimed, laughter bubbling in his voice.

You laughed along, feeling weight lift off your shoulders as you embraced the happiness of the moment. When he set you down, he looked into your eyes, a mixture of surprise and delight on his face. “I can’t believe this!”

His joy was infectious, and you couldn’t help but smile back at him. “I just… I really like you, Jungwon. I’ve felt it for a while now.”

His expression softened as he stepped closer. “So, can I…?” He hesitated for a moment, then grinned cheekily. “Can I get a kiss?”

Your heart raced again, but you nodded, feeling a rush of excitement. You leaned in, and as your lips met, the world around you faded away. It was gentle at first, but as you melted into the kiss, it deepened, filled with all feelings you both shared.

When you pulled back, breathless and smiling, your thoughts suddenly turned to your brother. You remembered his protective stance, always claiming that no guy was good enough for you. The sudden wave of worry hit you, and you glanced down, biting your lip. “Um, so… about my brother…”

Jungwon raised an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity in his expression. “What about him?”

You sighed, feeling a bit sheepish. “He can be a bit… overprotective. He’s probably going to have a lot to say about us being together. I just… I hope he doesn’t freak out or anything.”

Jungwon chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “I think I can handle him. Besides, I’m the one who got turned into a cat. If anything, I should have some kind of clout, right?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that. “True, you do have a unique story. But still, I just don’t want him to think poorly of you.”

“Hey,” he said gently, lifting your chin so you met his gaze. “I promise I’ll do my best to win him over. I care about you, and I want him to see that. Plus, if he sees how happy you are, he might just come around.”

You nodded, comforted by his words. “You’re right."

With a playful grin, Jungwon wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “Then let’s tackle this together. How about we talk to him after dinner? Just the three of us?”

“Okay,” you agreed, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension. “Let’s do it.”

After dinner, you felt a mix of anticipation and nerves as you and Jungwon made your way to the courtyard to meet your brother. The moon hung high in the sky, casting a soft glow over the stone path as you approached the familiar spot where your brother usually liked to unwind.

He was leaning against a pillar, casually flipping through a book. When he noticed you both approaching, he closed it and set it aside, an eyebrow raised in curiosity. “So, what’s the big news?”

You exchanged a glance with Jungwon, and he gave you a reassuring nod. “We wanted to talk to you about something important,” you began, your heart racing. “Jungwon and I are… well, we’re together now.”

Your brother’s expression shifted from curiosity to surprise, but instead of the angry outburst you feared, he broke into a smile. “Really? You two?”

You nodded, relief flooding through you. “Yeah, we just wanted you to know.”

To your astonishment, your brother’s smile grew wider. “Honestly, I couldn’t have picked a better guy for you. I trust Jungwon. He’s the only guy I know who’s worthy of you because I know he’ll treat you right.”

The weight lifted off your shoulders as joy washed over you. You turned to Jungwon, and without thinking, you both leaned in, sharing a sweet kiss under the moonlight. The moment was perfect—until your brother suddenly coughed, breaking the spell.

“Hey! No kisses in front of me!” he declared, mock annoyance in his tone, but there was a teasing glint in his eye.

You and Jungwon pulled back, laughter bubbling up between you. “Okay, okay,” you giggled, feeling warmth spread through you at your brother’s acceptance. “No kisses in front of you.”

With a playful grin, Jungwon stepped forward and pulled you into a warm hug. You melted into his embrace, feeling a sense of comfort and happiness enveloping you. “Thanks for being so cool about this,” Jungwon said softly, his breath tickling your ear.

Your brother crossed his arms, shaking his head in feigned disapproval. “Just keep the mushy stuff to a minimum around me, alright?”

You laughed again, feeling giddy. “We will, I promise.”

As you pulled back from the hug, you saw the genuine happiness in your brother’s eyes. “Just remember,” he added, a more serious tone creeping into his voice, "treat her right, alright?”

Jungwon nodded earnestly, a serious expression crossing his face. “I promise I will.”

/ᐠ ˵> ˕ <˵マ

Bonus!:

The day of one your brother's Quidditch match had arrived, and the atmosphere around the pitch was electric with excitement. You had made your way to the team tent, filled with an eagerness to support your brother. As you entered, the familiar scent of fresh grass and a hint of waxed wood filled the air, along with the chatter of the team gearing up for the game.

You found your brother pacing nervously inside the tent, his Quidditch gear scattered around him. The atmosphere was charged with excitement and anticipation, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him. He looked up, surprise washing over his face when he saw you.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his brow furrowing.

With a playful grin, you pulled out a bright yellow chicken costume from behind your back, waving it triumphantly. “I came to collect one of the favors you owe me!”

His eyes widened in disbelief, and he groaned dramatically. “You’ve got to be kidding me! You’re making me wear that? Right before the match?”

“Absolutely!” you teased, stifling a laugh. “A chicken mascot would really boost team morale. Just think of it as a strategic advantage.”

He shot you a look that could only be described as a mix of annoyance and resignation. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he muttered, snatching the costume from your hands. “Fine! But if I get ridiculed out there, I’m blaming you.”

“Hey, at least you’ll be memorable!” you shot back, unable to hold in your laughter as he started to put on the ridiculous outfit. The fluffy yellow feathers looked utterly absurd against his determined expression.

As he struggled to pull the costume over his Quidditch gear, you couldn’t resist teasing him further. “Come on, embrace your inner chicken! You’re gonna be the star of the show!”

“I’m going to be the laughingstock of the school!” he retorted, but you could see a hint of a smile tugging at his lips despite the exasperation.

Once he finally managed to get the costume on, you took a step back to admire the spectacle. He looked utterly ridiculous, and you burst into laughter, doubling over at the sight. “You make a great chicken! You’re gonna fly out there and peck the competition!”

“Very funny,” he grumbled, but there was a hint of amusement in his tone as he glanced in the mirror. “Alright, let’s just get this over with.”

“Just remember,” you said, suppressing another laugh, “you’ve got a chicken in your corner cheering you on. You’ll win for sure!”

With that, he rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the smile on his face. “I better not regret this,” he muttered as he headed out of the tent, his confidence bolstered by your playful energy.

/ᐠ ˵> ˕ <˵マ

You and Jungwon stood in front of your brother, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “So, we have a bit of a favor to ask,” you said, trying to sound as innocent as possible despite the excitement bubbling up inside you.

Your brother looked at you skeptically. “What is it this time? Because I swear if it involves another chicken costume…”

“It’s nothing like that!” Jungwon interjected, stifling a laugh. “We want you to turn us into cats.”

Your brother blinked in disbelief, processing your request. “Seriously? You two want to be turned into cats? Why would you even want that?”

“Because it would be fun!” you replied, barely able to contain your excitement. “I promise, it’ll be worth it!”

He hesitated, clearly torn between disbelief and amusement. “And why would I even consider this?”

You exchanged a quick glance with Jungwon before speaking up again. “Remember that second favor you owe me. This counts, right?”

He groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Fine! But if this backfires, I’m holding you both responsible.”

“Thank you!” you both chimed, practically bouncing on your toes with excitement.

With a sigh, your brother pulled out his wand, muttering the incantation under his breath. A warm light enveloped you and Jungwon, and suddenly you felt yourself shrinking, your limbs transforming as your human forms faded away. When the light dimmed, you looked around with wide eyes, realizing you were both small, furry creatures now.

Jungwon turned to you, his eyes sparkling with delight, and let out a soft, inquisitive meow. You mirrored his expression, feeling the softness of your new form and the thrill of being a cat. You nuzzled against him, your whiskers brushing against his fur, and instinctively, you both began to purr.

Your brother, now looking utterly baffled, shook his head in disbelief. “You two really went through with it…” he muttered, a mix of amusement and exasperation in his voice. “Just be careful, okay?”

But before he could say anything else, you and Jungwon turned your attention back to each other. Without a second thought, you dashed over to Jungwon, who had already curled up on a nearby cushion. He looked up at you with bright eyes, and you couldn’t resist the urge to snuggle up against him. You nestled into his warm side, feeling the comforting rhythm of his purring resonate against you. He responded by wrapping his paws around you, drawing you closer.

As the two of you settled into a cozy heap, Jungwon began to groom you, his rough tongue lapping at your fur in gentle strokes. You closed your eyes, surrendering to the soothing rhythm of his actions. You felt safe and content, purring softly as he continued to lick your fur, making you feel warm and loved.

Drifting off to sleep, you felt Jungwon shift slightly, wrapping his body around yours as if to protect you. He looked down at you, his eyes full of affection, and for a moment, nothing else mattered. You were just two cats, snuggled together, enjoying the peacefulness of the moment as you drifted off to sleep in the comfort of each other's warmth.

467 notes · View notes

adrienneleclerc · 6 months ago

Note

hiii! I was wondering if you could please do a fic where Charles is dating a tall reader kinda like Tom and Zendaya's relationship

Hi! So Tom and Zendaya have a two inch difference, I can definitely make Charles date like a 6’1 reader, I was debating whether or not to make her a model so she can take advantage of her height. So I made her model for the same agency as Kika and she met Charles through Kika.

Model Behavior

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Tall! Reader

Summary: Charles is obsessed with his girlfriend

Warning: spelling and grammatical errors

A/N: i Don’t really follow “Tomdaya” like that But from what i see on TikTok, Tom is Zendaya’s biggest fan so let’s see how this turns out. Also sorry for the late response! I have not been sleeping well lately, let me tell you. Don’t know if this is what you wanted…

Kika and Y/N were doing a photo shoot for the Miss Dior perfume, they were in hair and makeup.

“Oh just FYI, my boyfriend and his friends are coming on the shoot.” Kika said as the makeup artist was doing her eyebrows.

“Oh that’s cool, I finally get to meet your F1 boyfriend. Why are they coming over though?” Y/N asked.

“Pierre said that he doesn’t have a race this weekend so he is free for today and he invited Charles with him because they’re doing something later.” Kika responded after checking her texts.

“Cool, cool, how’s my blowout looking, Dana?” Y/N asked her hairstylist

“It’s looking good, mama.” Dana said.

“You sure?” Y/N asked. (Personally, as someone with 2C/3A curls, I get paranoid when it comes to blowouts. Not to mention pin straight hair, I think it looks awful on me)

“Yes I’m sure." Dana replied, putting rollers in Y/N's hair to have that voluminous 90s blowout look. Kika and Y/N were sipping their smoothies that they got earlier when Kika's eyes were covered.

"Guess who." The frenchman said. Kika took his hands off her eyes and turned her head.

"Pierre, querido, hi!" Kika got up from her chair to hug him. When he separated from him, she saw Charles. "Charles, can't believe you're here." She hugged him as well. "Oh, this is my friend and coworker, Y/N." Kika introduced Y/N to the F1 drivers and Y/N got up from her chair.

"It is nice to meet you guys." Y/N said, hugging the boys as well. Charles was in awe of Y/N, not because she was taller than him, but because she was so beautiful, so ethereal, basically a walking angel. He wouldn't be surprised if she was a Victoria's Secret Angel as well.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Pierre, this is my friend Charles." Pierre said, patting Charles on the back, he just waved.

“Oh Charles, congratulations on your home race win, that must have been exciting, right?” Y/N asked.

“You Watch Formula 1?” Charles asked, finally getting the nerve to speak.

“Oh yeah, big Ferrari fan too.” Y/N commented and Charles smiled.

“Hey, we should all go out to eat when the shoot is done.” Kika suggested, looking between charles and Y/N.

“Sounds great.” Charles said.

“But we’re supposed to…” Pierre was interrupted by Kika dragging him away. “What.”

“Querido, It’s obvious Charles likes Y/N and she likes him too, let’s just do a little double date and see if Charles asks her out himself.” Kika explained to her boyfriend.

“Okay fine, but you have to pay me back for paintball.” Pierre said and Kika rolled her eyes.

“Yeah i know, bebé.” Kika said and she walked back to Charles and Y/N, who were still talking to each other. Kika was going to say something when Dana came back.

“Y/N, time to take those rollers out. Kika, you’re needed on set.” Dana said, taking out Y/N’s rollers and brushing out the Dyson curls.

“Oh yeah, I’ll talk to you later.” Kika said to Y/N. They took some pictures with Kika, then pictures with Y/N, and then there were some, photos taken with Kika and Y/N together. The shoot took about 2 hours and Charles was just watching in awe, seeing how Y/N posed and how the photos turned out in the monitor, she truly was beautiful.

“That’s a wrap everyone! Kika, Y/N, good work girls, I’ll see you on the runway.” The guy in charge said. Kika and Y/N thanked the man and changed back to their usual clothes before leaving with Pierre and Charles.

The 4 of them went out to eat and they had a great time. At the end of the night, Charles managed to ask Y/N out on a proper date and she said yes. They have been dating for a few months and Charles couldn’t be a better boyfriend.

Charles took videos of Y/N walking the runway, behind the scenes photos of Y/N getting ready, posted them to his instagram grid and story. He is so proud of her, he was standing up whenever Y/N walked out, clapping, cheering, being Y/N’s biggest fan.

“You were spectacular out there, mon coeur.” Charles said, getting on his tiptoes to kiss her cheek. Y/N was wearing heels so now she was 5 inches taller than him.

“Thank you, baby.” Y/N said. When they were walking outside the venue, paparazzi started taking photos of them. They made it to his car and Y/N saw Charles’s instagram. “Aww, thank you, Charles, you’re the best.” Y/N kisses him before he started the car. They made it to Charles apartment and Y/N was getting ready for bed.

“You are so beautiful, Mon coeur.” Charles said, looking at Y/N removing her runway makeup.

“You don’t have to keep saying that, you know.” Y/N said.

“But it’s true. I am so lucky to have you, my whole following thinks so too.” Charles said before kissing her. “You coming to the Grand Prix next weekend?”

“Yep! I Don’t have any photo shoots to do that weekend so I’m going to support you and Carlos.” Y/N said.

“Perfect, I love you.” Charles said, kissing her again.

“I love you too, babe. Goodnight.” Y/N said, they got into bed and cuddled until they slept.

Liked by francisca.cgomes and 1,378,993 others

charles_leclerc Milan Fashion Week (spring-summer 2025) with yourusername, she was amazing as always, so proud of my beautiful girlfriend, she’ll be on billboards in no time.

User27 I thought it was an Y/N fan account at first, but it was just Charles simping for his girlfriend 😂

User 32 Y/N is so beautiful 😍 how did Charles bag a baddie like her

charles_Leclerc guess im just lucky

User 23 imagine having your boyfriend dedicating a post to you. They are such an adorable couple

User 45 Y/N dedicates posts to him too whenever she’s at a Grand Prix, they are so perfect for each other

User 61 girl, they’ve been dating for 3 months, relax

User 45 but they’re so cute 🥰

The End

Hope y’all liked it! Also, just a little experiment, if you follow me, comment why, thank you!

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #model behavior

798 notes · View notes

cornerstoreclown · 2 months ago

Text

Workshop Fun

Summary: This is a short one-shot (7021 words) where the Reader (female) has an established relationship with Art the Clown, and has been kiiiind of collaborating with him passively. Reader is wearing a dress for the sole purpose of easy access. Reader has a vulva and breasts.

Contents: Biting, light spanking, ...phone... sex? Having an unknowing participant on the other line is the only way I can word it, light spanking, lots of making out, clothed sex, BDSM, Art being cruel, p in v penetration, finger sucking and light body worship

Author’s notes: Sorry what took me so long to do this, I’ve been sitting on this for years! Male version will be out in a few days. This is LIGHTLY proofread, so keep your expectations at a level where you won’t be surprised if there’s any mistakes. Also once again I am an Art the Clown front zipper truther for my clothed sex kink.

——————————————————

You loved him.

Did he kill people? Yes. Did he sometimes allude to killing you as well? Absolutely. Has he acted on it yet? Not fully, but you could tell that sometimes he had that compulsion to go through with it, when he’d get that twinkle in his eye.

Especially when you were up close and personal with him, your bodies merely inches apart, sometimes with him even holding a weapon in hand. He’s a wild animal. A force of evil locked away in the confines of a corporeal body made of flesh and bone.

And yet, all the same, you loved him. The way that his hands would travel across your flesh and explore the parts of you that you never let anyone else. Sometimes he’d leave bruises, other times scratches. Then there were the bite marks. Each intimate encounter would leave you in a different state of mess. He was the lover who was like a cat. One day he’d be here, gone the next. You couldn’t put a thumb on the patterns.

The waits were long, but you’re loyal, and you’re patient. You didn’t really have much of a choice in the matter. You’d wait until the ends of the earth for him. Sometimes during the months that he wasn’t here, you’d dream of him. All of these little fantasies you’d have in your head would sometimes come to visit you behind your closed lids, where reality had no limitations. It would make the ache feel less. Every time that he’d come back, you made sure to find him as quickly as possible the second you heard whisperings pertaining to sightings of him, or any kind of crime scene that felt like it had his signature on it. Sometimes he’d find you first.

Art wasn’t someone who was very materialistic. And money meant next to nothing to Art—the personification of evil had very little need for the vast kinds of desires that plagued man.

But he wasn’t necessarily immune to the pleasures of the flesh, you learned. Despite how for the most part, he remained heavily uninterested in intimacy, he had a few moments here and there, and you capitalized on them when you could. You had a feeling tonight would be one of those nights.

Or, well, you hoped.

Worst case scenario he’d turn you away or ignore any advances, and he has a few times. And that was okay.

You came into his hideout tonight with confidence instilled in you, but yet the excitement still makes your stomach do flips. It’s been too long, and the fire within your chest is reignited. You feel passion, you feel love so strong that it’s enough to keep you up at night, and it has happened plenty of times before. You wonder if he’s got some sort of spell over you, and you’d believe it if that were the case. You’ve never fallen so madly, deeply, for anyone before like you have him. It could be enough to make you physically ill if you thought about how much you loved him. Such a passion came with such a detriment to you.

Past the damaged doors of a since abandoned fairly abandoned warehouse, you have a smooth descent down the stairs, leading you to a type of basement setting. There’s plenty of water dripping. Rats squeaking as they chitter and skitter along. You catch glimpses of them in the dim lighting, but they don’t bother you. As long as you didn’t see a bunch of them with their tails tied together, you wager you’ll be pretty okay.

You dressed up nicely for him tonight.

You weren’t really a dress kind of person, but tonight you made it an exception. It wasn’t fancy or over the top, and by the love of god, it had pockets. You refused to wear heels however, whatever shoes you had that worked and didn’t give you the possibility of breaking your ankle down these flights of stairs was the option you went with. Art might have found it funny if you hurt yourself, but you aren’t too keen on getting yourself dinged up before he gets the chance to do it himself.

The dress was about one thing–accessibility. Easy to lift up, easy for him to slide in right where he belonged.

You loved when he was inside of you, when you’d feel the heat of his heavy breath against the back of your neck. You run your hands over the spot where you last remember feeling the warmth of his breath. You remember being beneath him and feeling as if the very heat that he quietly exhaled felt as if it were smoldering your skin, burning you like the way the flames of hell were supposed to. If being with this clown meant that you’d be burning in the afterlife, you’d gladly bathe yourself in the inferno.

Your stomach flutters.

You shouldn’t be this excited. He’s a murderer. A killer. A man with no morals, and you’re not even sure if he was a man sometimes at all. Yet, his darkness is what drew you in. He was your safe space, and no one would dare come into that space to try and harm you so long as you were in his arms.

When you reach the bottom of the steps, you see it–a single dangling light, and illuminating this dark space is a double door that is plainly rusted. You see a bloody handprint on it. It’s since dried.

You recognize the size of that hand, and feel slightly lighter, just in the moment.

Placing your own hand in the exact space over Art’s bloodied print, you push the door open. The door is a little on the heavy side, but with enough force, the door opens.

“Art?” You call out, making sure that your presence is acknowledged as friendly and not hostile. The room is a little darkly lit, very heavy on the minimum lighting that’s needed to navigate in the space. It most certainly added to the creepy ambiance. Straight ahead, there sat none other than Art. His back was given to you. He was sitting on a stool, hammering away at something on his workbench. He turns his head upon hearing his name, and you see that he gives you a smile, baring his rotted discolored teeth as his eyes are closed. You can see the wrinkles form a little in the corner of his eyes when he smiles.

You liked that. You liked the details etched into his face. It added character among those otherwise gaunt features of his.

“Hey, buddy.” You call out to him, and he gives you a little wave, before gesturing for you to come closer.

You approach him, and once you’re near the bench with him, you can see when you’re close enough that he gives you a once over, assessing you… Judging you, for what it is you’re wearing tonight.

“Like it?” You ask him, twirling from side to side so that your dress splays out a little. It’s simple. Gets the job done. And if it got ruined? No love loss.

Art’s gaze seems fixed on you, first on your dress, then up at you. For a man who doesn’t speak, his eyes seem to say all that needs to be said, as he reaches for the end of your dress and starts to lift it, until you gently smack the top of his hand. Art draws his hand back to his side immediately, glancing up at you, looking a little like a kid that was chided.

Naughty of him, trying to get a sneak peek beforehand.

“Not yet,” You tell him.

Art looks a little irritated, folding his arms across his chest and pouting. At least he seems interested tonight.

You clear your throat, and Art’s attention is still locked on you. He’s watching you expectantly.

“You’ve settled in quite nicely.” It was just yesterday you surveyed the area on his behalf, and helped him move in properly. Already on his workbench, he has got quite a few improvised weapons he’d been working on. Your eyes go to one weapon in particular, and you point at it.

“What’s that?”

Art turns to look at the weapon you’ve pointed out, and when he lifts it to proudly show it, it’s exactly what it looked like–an improvised flail. Attached to a long metal rod, is a long wire, and when your eyes follow to the end of the wire, you see wrapped around in such an intricate and meticulous way are a variety of knives, serving as what would be the ‘spikes’. You’re impressed. He even hands it to you, to which you take it. It’s got a decent weight to it, too. Not too heavy, but not too light.

“Woah.” You say, as Art watches you, quite proud of how dazzled you are. He’s an artist at heart, you knew this. The knives have some rust on them. One of them looks stained from a previous bloody encounter. He’s clearly working with whatever he’s got on him.

“If anyone survives this, they better pray they don’t get tetanus.” You muse, and Art’s face twists in amusement in a silent laugh. You hand the weapon back to him, and he takes it once he’s done getting in a few silent chuckles at your joke, gently placing it back down on the table.

No one escapes Art with their soul still in their body. Literal or figurative. You were either dead, or you were burdened with his encounter your entire life, both physically and mentally.

You weren’t any different. Your bruises and bites and scars have been out of love. One could argue that you got off easy, but you’d argue otherwise.

Being in love with the Miles County Clown is torture in and of itself. There were nonstop dreams that came with it. It seemed as if every other week he’d plague you in your sleep. Not to mention that you had to be extremely clever to not be caught under affiliation with him–which was even more stress. So far, though, so good.

He’s worth it, you tell yourself. Even if he wasn’t anymore, there’s no way you could leave. He’d kill you. And you have zero doubts that your death wouldn't be painless.

After a few seconds of silence, you sigh.

“I wish you didn’t have to leave all the time.” You begin to tell him. Art’s expression is neutral, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. His teeth are bared, as they often are. Your tone isn’t one of whining, but of yearning. You know that this came with the territory, and you readily accepted his lack of presence at any given time.

But it didn’t hurt to dream. Art tilts his head, watching you from where he sits curiously.

“Maybe one day we can find some place that… Is ours. Separate from… This.” You gesture towards the weapons he’s making. Every so often he hides somewhere different to prepare for the trouble he intends to cause. “A place that maybe once you’re done for the day, we both can be in to unwind. And a permanent place for you that isn’t just my apartment. But like. A place for you. For us.”

Taking him to your apartment kept getting riskier and riskier each time. Also, he made it quite clear he didn’t really care for your decor. Giving him his own place to make his own that he could express himself would be ideal, and it wouldn’t be like a place he’d have to abandon every year. He could actually have and keep stuff… If he wanted to even do that.

The more you think about it, the more you’re starting to think it sounds silly. You see the way that he’s looking at you, and he appears very stern. Sharp.

Your confidence begins to drop, and as you’re about to speak again, you stammer, before laughing nervously.

“Yeah. You’re right. Sorry, that was a silly idea–any long term space we made for you would probably get found out eventually, too. I–”

The stool screams as it’s slid across the ground, back towards the bench when he stands up. It sounded like one of his many victims. You go quiet as he’s hovering over you, and you swallow any words that you might have wanted to tell him.

The silence is heavy. His shoulders are rising and falling, and you feel your heartbeat in your ears.

Seconds tick by and they feel more like minutes, and you can’t stand it any longer. You open your mouth to speak, but you’re swiftly cut off.

Art yanks you by the collar of your dress, and forces his lips against yours.

Your eyes are wide briefly in surprise, but they close as soon as you register what’s happening, and you moan in the kiss. Art’s a bit of a sloppy kisser, but you’ve come to love it. His taste was acrid as well, but you craved the bitterness at this point, no longer gagging like you used to. As he leans forward to kiss you harder, you put more of yourself in it as well, mixing his intensity with your passion and desire that’s been left simmering for months.

Now it’s boiling over.

Art places both of his hands on either side of your face, and it’s like he’s trying to suffocate you with his kisses, barely giving you much time to breathe in between them. You’re getting a little lightheaded.

He pulls away from your lips to kiss you a few times on the cheek, then nuzzling his face against yours. Almost like a cat.

It gives you the chance to catch your breath. His hands reach for yours, and you let him, feeling the way that his fingers interlace with your own. You look down at the way that your fingers intertwined with his dirtied and calloused ones. He was a man who worked with his hands–in more ways than one. Those same fingers belonged to the same hands that would worship you, tear and pull at you without ever breaking you completely in half. Sometimes it’d be close, but never fully. They would sometimes draw blood when the nails would sink into your flesh and leave behind crescent marks. Other times, those hands would strangle you, smack you–slap you, and bring a sting across your body that reminded you just how alive you were. Then those same hands would caress you. Cradle you.

He’d cut you on a few occasions, but they were never lethal. And with every cut, his tongue followed.

You feel reverence. Especially as you press a kiss to the tip of his fingers–you kiss each one, tenderly, making eye contact with him as you do so.

Art watches knowingly. He raises his head a little so that when he watches you, he’s looking down at you, all too aware of how you worship him. And he accepts it. But only from you. Just you. No one else.

After kissing each finger, from pinkie to thumb, you stop back at his index, soft lips pressed against the pad of it. His fingers were stained. Caked in whatever gore and dirt and grime he’d touched earlier.

Not that you cared, nor would you let it stop you. You’re a freak. Not well in the head. You’d lick any and all of his love off of the world's sharpest blade if that’s the only way he gave it. If he wanted you to cut your tongue on it, you would.

Bringing his index finger to your mouth, you wrap your lips around it, and watch him. He tastes exactly how you’d expect—foul and wretched. You catch the faintest hint of iron. A taste that you’ve come to associate pleasantly with him. That part feels right.

Art’s gaze is fixed on you. You can’t read his thoughts, and though he doesn’t speak, you recognize what that look means. Even as he observes you, teeth bared subtly, head still held high, which he inclines just slightly as you take another finger in your mouth–his middle one.

You suck his fingers lewdly, and close your eyes. You imagine it’s his cock, even though you know that his fingers can’t compare to the real deal. You push your tongue through his index and middle as you take more of him in your mouth. Art watches your tongue work around him, until he decides to press down on the muscle, effectively stopping you.

You stare at him.

Seconds linger in silence, and he relinquishes pressure off of your tongue, letting you move it freely again.

And you do. You hold his hand and go back to kissing his fingers before fellating them. Index first. Then the middle. And finally the ring finger–all three at once. The taste of iron is stronger. You sigh a gentle moan as you pull your head back and give him back his hand. You kiss at the tips of his fingers again. As you’re about to take his fingers a third time, he leans forward instead, his lips taking yours. You feel the way that he seizes both of your wrists as he floods your senses all over again, and you let him.

You try to say his name in between the kisses, but each time you get a breath between the barrage of affection that seems to practically swallow you whole, Art steals your voice with another passionate kiss. Again, his taste is bitter, his teeth are damn near rotten, but you’ve gotten so accustomed to the flavor that it doesn’t make you gag. It makes you feel only slightly sickly. But the arousal overrides any lingering discomfort.

It’s disorienting. It’s all so much at once. You feel your body temperature rise. Art gives you back one of your wrists, but in doing so, he places his hand at the small of your back and pulls you in against him, until there’s no space left between you.

That’s when you feel it. You feel the heat of his erection pressed against your thighs. You’ve excited him enough, it being quite clear the effect your mouth had on him.

You smile, but his lips are back at yours again, and the taste of bitterness hits at the back of your tongue—the most sensitive taste receptors lighting up and ripping any smugness you had straight out of you as you close your eyes and sigh softly. His tongue mingles with yours.

He begins to move, forcibly taking you with him as you change where you’re standing, so that he’s no longer the one whose back is facing the workbench–it’s you. You feel the edge of the table bump against your ass. With your positions effectively switched, you don’t mind at all, far too enraptured by the kisses of your clown lover.

This was pure bliss.

He pulls away from your lips, now kissing the corners of your mouth, then going to your jawline, until he’s at your neck, sucking and licking and nibbling, giving you goosebumps. You feel your nipples go hard. You close your eyes and moan softly.

This is the few times of the year that you get this. It was the time that you’d be peppered in kisses, ravaged, and torn asunder in such a way that it would take you almost the remaining however many days, months, or years until you’d see him again to put yourself back together.

“Art…” You laugh a little when his lips tickle a part of your neck. He silences you again with his lips to yours. You feel the way that he nips at your tongue this time and draws a little blood. The endorphins from the pain gives you a pleasant buzz. He bites your bottom lower lip next, taking note of how he’s beginning to use his teeth more and more during this exchange, and you think about how he’s eaten the faces of his victims before.

You could be next.

He pulls away and kisses at the corners of your lips a second time. He’s obsessed with using his mouth. Your eyes finally open, and you gently move your head back a bit, until Art finally stops, the both of you staring into each other's eyes. His teeth are bared all the same as they were before, but there’s a sultry gaze you’re familiar with. Up this close, you can see the more subtle details of him.

Like his lashes, which otherwise, from a distance is obscured by the paint over his face.

How could someone–or… Something, be so monstrous… Yet so… pretty? You could get lost in his gaze. You could drown in it. And he knows that. And he likes that power over you.

Your lips turn upwards into a soft smile, and you feel a desire pool at your groin. It’s an undeniable throbbing in tune with your heartbeat. Nevermind that you can feel his own arousal against you. He’s warmer than you–he feels like he’s practically burning up, compared to you, and the body heat radiating from him only serves to make you hotter in turn. Right to the point where you’re developing a thin sheen of sweat across your brow.

“I love you.”

He watches you, and through his body language and eyes, you understand him through his reaction. You see a slow, smug smile appear on his face.

Very much an, I know. No sign of reciprocation. That would be too heavy of an ask from someone like him. But him being receptive to your love was a testament to how much he liked you.

Not that you expected anything less from a cold killer such as the Miles County Clown. The fact that he hasn’t yet killed you throughout all these years speaks in a kind of love on its own, you’d think.

Maybe not the one that people would refer to as being actually in love, but for him, for Art, it was. Love was tolerance. Love was allowing you to live.

You feel a hand slip up your dress again, and this time, you don’t stop him. You part your legs for him this time, willingly letting him indulge in what you denied him earlier. Through your panties you feel his thick fingers, his index and middle pressing against your clit, sliding down between your cunt and back up again. He threatens to penetrate you with the tips of his fingers through your panties with a gentle prod, but doesn’t follow through on it.

You ache, feeling more empty than ever.

He’s doing this on purpose. All because you told him to wait earlier.

“Art,” You say his name with a weak laugh, and he stops to look at you, knowingly, at that, well aware of what it is he’s doing. His little way of being petty with you, and he continues once more, trailing his fingers up and down between your thighs, waiting for you to continue.

“It’s been months,” You plead for him. His face is still inches from yours, and you lean more of yourself against him, as your voice gets low. He observes you through half lidded eyes, analyzing you, assessing you and sizing you up. He’s no longer smiling, and his lips are downturned ever so slightly. The expression looks more neutral now.

“I wanna have some fun.” You purse your lips. “Put your weapon crafting down for a bit?”

Your tone is pleading. It’s a mix of a command and a request–you’re voicing your thoughts. You try to get a reading on his response through his eyes, but he’s put up a wall that you can’t breach. He’s unreadable. It’s been months upon months since you’ve both done anything together.

“…Please?”

Art’s gaze is still indecipherable. It makes you a little nervous. The hairs on the back of your neck begin to stand up. Did he change his mind suddenly?

Had it been anyone else, you know they’d be dead instantly. There was no wondering about that. Not a speculation or doubt in your mind. You hated when he did this, when he was fucking with you like this, leaving you in silence. It’s in times like these that you’re reminded that you’re with a wild animal, and he could snap at any second if he decided he was hungry. It was part of the risk you took and the bargain you struck.

Maybe he’d just stab you here and now. Slit your throat and call it a fucking day because he decided that, nope, don’t wanna keep doing this anymore! He could. Again, he’s pushed you away before. Other days he’s yanked you in against him. His mood was unpredictable, hard to guess, and as volatile as a storm across an ocean.

Without another word, you’re turned around, and the flat of Art’s palm travels down your spine as he presses the front of your body forward and down onto the workbench. He gives you time to adjust, so that you’re at least able to rest your forearms on the table top. As of right now, your tits are squished against the surface of the table. It’s a little uncomfortable.

This is surprisingly tender, all things considered. You remember one time when he’d been fucking you on his workbench, how he tied your hands together with some zipties and then choked you out by wrapping some rusty metal chains around your neck. And that was only after he’d finished whipping your breasts, thighs and ass until you were a bloody bruised mess barely hanging on. You still have some scars from those times. He loved to twirl you over the line of death like it was all one dance, pulling you back at the last second.

You go from feeling his palm to the fingertips travel down your back. If it weren’t for the fabric of your dress in the way, you know those blood and dirt stained fingertips would have tickled you by now. And he’s done that in the past while fucking you–tickling you mercilessly. He even makes a point to wiggles his fingers a little against your back on the way down playfully. You can’t help but laugh a little as you exhale, letting some of the excitement stirring within you leave your body through your lungs. Your breaths are getting deeper, and in times like this, when he thrills you in such a way, you’re reminded just how much he makes you feel…

Alive.

Because when you’re with him, death is always hot on your heels. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Don’t be gentle,” You tell him. He knows. You know he knows.

You hear the metallic zipper from the front of his suit go down as the teeth on the track separate and reveal the body of a man beneath that clown visage. You steal a glance over your shoulder to admire his pale skin that covered over such a thin frame. Amazing how a build such as his carries such supernatural strength.

Unceremoniously, he gets right to work, giving your ass a firm slap after lifting the back of your dress, letting it crumple up over your hips. You yelp gently as you know that there’s likely already a red spot on your rump. Art rubs the spot on your ass he’d slapped, then gives it a gentle squeeze.

You make the decision to look over your shoulder, right on time to experience watching when the killer clown makes the decision that you no longer are in need of your panties. His dirtied fingers slip within the space between the elastic waistband of your undergarment and your skin. He lets it snap against your flesh once–that’s about the extent of use it gets before he grabs whatever meager fistful he can of that excuse of ‘modesty’ you brought to him and rips it clean off your form.

“Ow!”

You told him to be rough. And he’s planning on taking that quite literally, as he’s taking it for not just the sex, but all of what precedes it apparently. He’s quietly laughing to himself, teeth showing, eyes crinkled.

“Glad you got some entertainment out of it.”

A few more noiseless giggles then he sobers up. Back to the task at hand—fucking your brains out.

He aligns himself right up against your warm dripping cunt, hands gripping your hips so tightly that his filthy fingertips leave stains on your dress. His nails are so sharp you swear that if he tried to sink them in any further, he’d pierce the cloth and right into your flesh. You inhale sharply again, bracing for the moment he sinks in. You feel the tip of his cock press against you and begin to push in, the head barely getting the chance even to get inside you before it slips and glides between the crack of your ass as he misses. Your excitement stutters for a second, but then ramps back up higher than before, impatience and desire washing over you wholly like a wave.

You’ve been grabbing at the edge of the workbench, hands holding tight and then releasing them of their grip every so often to relax your muscles. You don’t say anything.

He’s annoyed at missing you the first push in.

With a look of disgruntlement he instead opts for one hand reaching to push your head down against the table with such a cruel force that makes you worry for a split second that he was trying to crush your skull. It was his way of trying to steady you as he then uses his other hand to line the head of his cock right against your cunt for the second time.

You shiver as you feel him, hands turning to fists that you clench tightly as inch by agonizing inch, he spreads you and fills you out easily. Your body did the heavy work, and has been prepping for him for the last ten minutes. It’s slick, and he can feel the wetness of your cunt hit against his balls when he bottoms out within you. That’s when you sigh in relief.

He almost pulls all the way out, then rams into you roughly, making you exhale sharply as the table shakes upon impact. The few tools laid out shuddered until they stilled. Give or take a few more times of this, and he finally releases his hand on your head, but you still opt to keep your head down.

The rhythm he has is a little awkward at first, but he is quick to course correct, both hands firmly planted on your hips, keeping you steady. You can’t see his face right now, but you’ve seen it plenty of times when you’ve fucked before. How his mouth would go into that ‘o’ shape, and the way his eyes would go half mast, holding nothing but a glimpse of paradise behind him as you could see that he was as close to heaven as his wicked self could get. You were beautiful to him, as far as sacks of flesh and blood went. And you could tell the times that he looked at you in such a predatory manner that there was restraint behind it.

You feel the pressure build up within you at a steady rate as he leans over you, chest pressed against your back, sucking on your neck, marking you. Then he nips. Then kisses, then sucks so goddamn hard on the same spot that you swear that he’s trying to suction your flesh right off your body.

It doesn’t take long for you to be so close. He’s so warm. The sound of his body slapping against yours, mixed with the creak of the workbench that’s forced to undergo the assault of you being rammed into it, a few quiet moans slip past your lips to join along.

You’re unbearably close, feeling yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, just a little more and—

Your phone goes off.

You forgot to silence it.

You feel it vibrating in the pocket of your dress. The ringtone scares the shit out of you and Art, who abruptly jumps a little while still on top of you.

“Of course.” You say sarcastically. “Of course! Who the fuck is calling me?!” You’re irritated now, mood under threat of being ruined. The excitement you felt shrivels up.

Reaching inside your hiked up dress pocket, you pull out your phone and check to see who had the audacity to try and get a hold of you in your time of undoing.

Your friend. Sort of. He was like a close acquaintance? If you could call him that. You met him when you were out and about one night. He’s an okay dude, hasn’t done anything wrong.

If only he didn’t harbor a romantic interest in you when you were already spoken for. But how could you begin to tell someone that you’re involved with a psychopathic killer clown? Specifically the Miles County Clown?

You’re ready to send him right to voicemail, until the phone is seized right out of your hand from over your shoulder.

“Hey!”

Your protest is in vain, as Art too, looks at who is calling you right now. You had HOPED he’d take a look at it, have his curiosity sated, maybe turn the phone off or better yet, you’d even forgive him if he tossed it over his shoulder, just this once!

But the look he’s giving you, then the phone, makes your heart sink as you realize.

“Art, don’t do it—“

His expression turns wicked, mouth upturned into the most shiteating grin you’ve ever seen.

“Art, I swear to god—“

But god’s not here, nowhere to be found in this workshop. God’s forsaken you. Doing the devils tango with a demon can do that.

Giggling silently to himself, in an act of deliberate defiance against you as well as likely for his very own amusement, he accepts the phone call for you and places it right to your ear.

What a gentleman. Truly.

You’re going to fucking kill him. You try to take the phone away from him, but he merely pulls it back out of your reach.

“Hello?”

You can hear the voice on the other end of the line. Art brings it down to your ear again and you try to make a reach for it a second time, only for him to do the exact same thing as before, silently cackling all the while. It’s become apparent that he’s not going to let you have it.

“Hellooooo?”

With a resigned sigh, you don’t fight him any further. Art puts the phone to your ear for the third time.

“Hey.” You answer wearily.

“Hey!” His voice on the other end of the line is suddenly lighter, filled with levity. You can hear the way that his breath is hitched in the back of his throat. Static tinges at the edges of his words. Must be a shoddy connection down here.

“How are you?”

“I’m–” You start to answer, but are interrupted by Art going back to rocking his hips into you while still over you. Once again, you look over your shoulder to give him the stink eye.

“I’m good, just uh, you know. Hanging out.” You respond, exhaling deeply as Art stirs the fire within you again after it had just begun to cool down.

“Nice, me too.” He says, and lets the silence between you both sink in for a few seconds. “You doing anything tomorrow?”

This would all be so much easier if you weren’t getting dicked down.

“I… I’m uh–”

He’s pounding into you from behind now, still leaning over you, holding the phone for you in one hand and keeping the other on the workbench for stability. Each fluid roll of his hips is equally tantalizing as the previous, his body connecting with yours in such a familiar way you craved. The table shakes, and you’re gripping the edges of it for dear life. You can hear his heavy breath from behind you, excitement building in each time he fills and empties his lungs.

“Art–” You say his name through grit teeth like a warning, with annoyance in your tone, but the excitement you feel, the rush and the thrill of it all has you coming close to release. Why does this feel so good? This man, this sweet man, who has done nothing wrong to you, interested in you, blissfully unaware that your heart belongs to someone else, being fooled like this. It’s wrong. This is wrong. Art knew about this man. He knew about him for some time. Art made it clear that he hated him. The only reason he’s still breathing is because you asked Art not to put this man’s head on a pike, but you fear it’s only a matter of time until your clown lover eviscerates this trespasser for encroaching on what he perceives as his territory–you.

“Art?" He repeats.

This is all an act of revenge done on the Art’s part. His pettiness knew no bounds.

“Yeah, art. You know–Mhn–” Your nails dig into the edge of the workbench as if that’ll somehow make a difference in the fact that he’s pounding into your cunt with such an aggressive force that begins to make you ache.

“You know, p-painting? Drawing. That sort of thing.”

You can only pray the ungodly sinful noises of his skin slapping against yours can’t be heard over the line.

“Ohhh… Well, hey, you wanna hangout sometime soon? It’s been a bit. Wanted to catch up with you if that’s fine.”

You’re not paying attention to a damn thing this dude is saying. It’s just words, in one ear, straight out the other.

“Uhuh.” You say without thinking. You’re close. You’re unbearably close as Art angles himself in such a way that hits just right. He knows how you work all too well. He knows how to unwind you and how to pull you apart piece by piece like it’s second nature to him.

Art’s pushing you towards the cliff, and there’s no stopping it. Your vision starts to blur a little. Your breathing deepens, and Art knows what’s about to come next, which only seems to spur him on as well, exciting him to the point where now he’s going fast not just for you, but for himself, chasing his own orgasm hot on its heels.

“How’s about next Thursday, at 7pm? There’s a new restaurant across the street from where we both met—“

The phone becomes nothing short of white noise. This shouldn’t feel so right, it shouldn’t. But it does. Gods above, it does.

You feel yourself lose sense of the world around you. There’s nothing but ringing in your ears, and you realize how little time you have to prepare before it’s too late.

Your orgasm crashes into you and is ripped out of you all within seconds. You try to keep quiet, your voice strangled and choked out in the process. Your release is violent as it tears you between what feels like the state of life and death. Your cunt tightens around his cock, squeezing him in contractions that trigger him in turn. Art hisses like a serpent, feeling his muscles lock up and knowing that he only has a few seconds to bury himself to the hilt within you, and he does. His face twists into an ugly and horrid expression as he comes inside you, dropping the phone on the workbench in the process while filling you with all the pent up energy he had been keeping away from you for months.

All of what he’d been denying you was now yours.

“Hello?”

You’re finally coming back into your own body a few meager seconds later when you register the voice, and hurriedly grab the phone before Art gets the chance.

“Can I call you back?” You ask, holding the phone to your mouth, but you weren’t really asking. Your friend had no real say in it, and before he even gets the chance to respond, you hang up. And then you lower your head and sigh. All the while, Art has since recovered, but his legs are shaky. You shove him off of you, and he stumbles back with an uneven balance, post orgasm weakened. Goofily he fumbles past the stool from earlier, which he tries to grab but fails in doing so. Instead, he lands right on his ass.

You’re sure to follow that up by throwing your phone at his head, which it does, but it lands with a clack right beside him. The only reason you felt remotely confident in doing that is because you’re both that close. Well, that and irritation made you a bold motherfucker sometimes. Yet despite all of that, he sits there, a wickedly amused smile on his face.

You pull your dress back down. Your legs tingle and you swear you feel some of his come dripping down your thigh, but you’re not sure.

“Proud of yourself, huh?” You ask, leaning against the bench for balance until you get your footing.

Yes. Yes he was proud of himself!

The rest of the night was spent at Art’s temporary hideaway space, lamenting the loss of your panties and calling back your guy friend who had unknowingly been part of something much more than he knew. And you’d never tell him. Not that you would ever have the chance to tell him really anything at all anymore in the future.

You had no idea at the time that Art would meet your friend the day you were both set to reconvene. But you should have known better, and a part of you already did. The reason you know he was dead was because he ended up on the local news the next day missing.

That, and Art had saved the man’s heart specifically for you when you came to visit him again.

#art the clown #terrifier #art the clown x you #art the clown x reader #slasher x you #slasher x reader #x reader

581 notes · View notes

shorthaltsjester · 5 months ago

Text

doing questionable things like rewatching a bard’s lament for “fun” and scanlan and vex you will always be famous. the fact that scanlan brings up that they’ve travelled across planes to fix vex’s daddy issues but then it’s vex’s daddy issues that ground her rebuttal to scanlan when she tells him to stop treating kaylie like an object. and god. vex’s “fuck him! fuck him for not saying anything sooner. and fuck us for not asking.” in the immediate aftermath, and then once she has time to put her walls back up, vex’s “my take-away from scanlan is that we all talk too much.”

the fact that vex was the one who made that comment that without his magic scanlan is just some guy but he’s also the some guy that vex spends the campaign looking up to (even if she does it through barbs and snark), the fact that when vex was fighting against saundor hearing things like “unproven ally” scanlan was all jokes until he realized how much vex believed what was being said to her. the fact that when scanlan comes back, it’s vex who literally sees through his disguise.

what do you mean scanlan was a deadbeat father who discovered a daughter that he did love but loved only as an object until vex called him out on it? what do you mean vex was a woman who struggled to forgive in part due to her crapshoot father and she was the first to forgive scanlan when he came back?

vex and scanlan also have such interesting interactions in terms of the balance of snark, silliness, and sincerity. it’s not uncommon from any characters of sam or laura’s since they are both silly little guys who also love drama and roasting each other especially when it comes to character rp, but as always it’s so dynamic when it’s the two of them bouncing off each other, especially when they’re doing so through scanlan and vex who are already bitchy characters (affectionate) with humour as a deflection method. but it’s a silly and deeply sincere moment when vex finally puts the witch hat scanlan gave her back on with his promise that he won’t run away from the final battle. it is one of my favourite laughable moments in c1 but it also reeks of sincerity when scanlan asks vex if she prefers planetar scanlan or normal scanlan and vex tells him he is fucking hot as a planetar, but she loves him like he was and he’s her favourite when he’s just himself.

like. they’re insane do you understand. the dawnfather asks vex to prove herself and scanlan turns her into a dragon to help her succeed, pelor asks vox machina what vex means to them and scanlan says she’s greedy and mean and the most perfect of them all. the knowing mistress asks scanlan to prove himself and vex escorts him on a broom he unlocked for her and then she picks an impossible lock for him, ioun tries to remind scanlan that his strength is the joy he provides to his friends and he makes a deflective quip that he’s really powerful and vex undercuts his deflection with a sincere assertion that he is. scanlan cast his last wish spell letting her see her brother on her wedding day. vex sent herself across the continent alone with her worry and grief while scanlan’s corpse lay awaiting resurrection to ensure that his daughter could be there to either bring him back or say goodbye.

they are the platonic chosen soulmates of all time to me. i make a post like this like once a year minimum and it’s because they Haunt me. both sam and laura said what if we made high charisma characters using their charisma as a shield and humour as a weapon and they saw through each other’s masks but they never explicitly talked about it to one another. good riddance to talks machina but i will never forget the episode post bard’s lament with laura and sam where sam revealed that vex was the only one who said anything that actually got through to scanlan and another episode where laura revealed that the reason vex was so angry and sad when scanlan left was that vex felt like her and scanlan had a unique bond where they were the only two who really saw one another’s masks for what they were. also laura providing the insight that while vex was actively working on being more forgiving, another reason she was so open and happy with scanlan when he came back was that vex didn’t want to scare him away again.

what am i supposed to do with all that? be normal about scanlan and vex? literally impossible

#laura and sam will see a dynamic that is riddled with many of my favourite tropes #ask ‘is anyone else gonna portray this?’ and not wait for an answer #in the words of marisha ray circa c2 when they were spending insane amounts of time Bothering each other n being whisper buddies #they are the third row in the van. hella far back. and they are scheming to ruin my life with every character combination they present #vex’ahlia #scanlan shorthalt #scanlan & vex #critical role #tlovm spoilers #to be safe #cr1 #critical role campaign 1 #laura bailey #sam riegel

703 notes · View notes

gatorbites-imagines · 5 months ago

Note

Listen. Listen. Hear me out.

I beg you, almighty gator—Gambit(Remy LeBeau) x M/FTM reader(ur choice i like both :)) where reader is a mutant that has some kind of power that has to do with sea monsters, and loves tarot cards so Remy does card tricks for him while reader is in a pool.

When I was a kid I called Gambit “Magic Man” and I had to hold myself back from screaming that in the theater when I was watching D&W a few days ago and revived my non-understandable fanboying of him. (Sorry for the rant)

You can change the fic anyway you want, I’ve got no problem as long as Remy is as silly as he normally is(can evolve into smut or whatever cause I’m freaky like that 😏)

Gracias Gator!!

Remy Lebeau x mutant male reader

Headcanons

I love Remy SO much its insane. I can’t write accents, so it’s there in spirit. Haven’t read the comics, so im basing this off of is wiki. no smut but i had fun writing this.

i loved seeing Remy in the movie, i just wish theyd given him his eyes, you know?

How you two met can be a mixed bag. Maybe you met in the x-men, maybe you met in the thieves guild before every crossing paths with the x-men as a whole, or maybe somewhere completely third. I enjoy the idea of the thieves guild though, so ill go with that.

You both had different reasons for joining or doing what you do, but being two mutants amongst a lot of other non-mutants meant you felt some kind of kinship with each other, even if you didn’t really get along in the beginning.

Especially with you two being visibly mutants. With Remy’s eyes and you having scales on different areas of your body, gills on your sides, what others would refer to as “monster eyes”, so on and so forth.

This resulted in you two preferring to work together when you got the chance, you trained together, ate together, slept together (not like that), so on and so forth. It also meant you two got a very deep understanding of each other over time.

It also meant that Remy got to see just how stupidly powerful you were. In the beginning you just thought your powers involved controlling water and being able to breath underwater. Who’d have thought you could do crazy stuff like controlling typhoons, rain, lightning, so on and so forth, like some kind of biblical being.

This was how you gained the name leviathan. You didn’t really like the name in the beginning, since you hadn’t really picked it yourself and it felt almost insulting with your appearance. But Remy was so supportive you ended up coming to like it, even though it took a long time.

In the end you two split apart as you leave the guild, going your separate ways but still keeping in contact in small but safe ways. With a power like yours it was hard to stay under the radar, and many wanted you on their side, even if it meant by force.

Time passes, Remy joins the x-men, you travel on your own and discover yourself and the world. Remy gets kicked out of the x-men when they learn of his past, you two meet up again and travel together for a while.

Its during this gap in Remy’s place with the x-men that your relationship became something more. He tells you about Rogue, and how he at first thought he loved her, only to realize what he felt for her wasn’t near as strong as what he felt for you.

And of course, during this confession, Remy tries to lay on the charm and act like it isn’t a big deal, but you can easily see through him and notice how anxious he is about it. in the end you just have to grab him and kiss him to shut him up, which yes, does shut him up, but also leads to you guys falling back into the water you’d been sitting by when he lunges at you to kiss you again.

Hes a charming guy yes, Remy has such a way with his words, how he carries himself or how he touches you. But underneath all that he also cares so deeply, to the point of being willing to die for you or those he cares about, which makes you lose scales from stress at times.

So, if you place protection spells on him that you got from the deepest part of the sea by the people who have started to worship you like a god, then only you have to know. That Namor guy is pretty swell, when he isn’t being a bit arrogant. He even taught you how to use a spear, so you guys are kinda brothers in spirit now.

At some point Remy does return to the x-men, somewhere you don’t feel ready to join him yet. So, a lot of kisses are shared, and a few tears a shed. And yes, of course you give him jewelry made from your scales. And a dagger made out of your larger teeth when you transform into a more serpentine form, because yes, you can also do that.

Remy doesn’t feel much need to tell the x-men about his relationship. Sure, he keeps flirting but that’s just because that’s how he is. But it never goes further than that. Some of the members that can read minds know about it though, since he thinks about you regularly.

In the end the relationship is exposed when the x-men find themselves in quite the pickle near the ocean. And Remy, knowing he can get them the upper hand, is able to snap one of the sigils you placed on him.

Rip to whoever they were fighting, since the sea lashes out and swallows them whole, followers by a giant feral looking sea serpent, you, rise from the water. Yes, you teleported there. What else were you supposed to do? You thought your boy was in danger!

Cue the x-men just being stunned or confused when Remy calls out the cheesiest pet names, almost kicking his feet in happiness at seeing you. It makes a bit more sense when you transform into a more human form, it still takes some explaining though.

In the end you don’t end up fully joining the x-men. You doing that would place them under a lot more danger than usual, since you had your own enemies and alliances, and you’re pretty sure Namor would get butthurt if you did. But you become something of an ally. Which means you hang out on Krakoa on the regular.

It becomes a very regular sight to see a giant serpent lazily swimming around the island, or resting half on the beach as Remy sits and shows you his different tarot readings. Of course, you also spend time together with you in a more human form, but seeing such a big sea monster also makes any baddies keep a distance.

There are also of course pools set up on the island, not just for you, but they’re accessible for you as well. Remy is regularly seen in the pool with you, or just sitting with his feet in as you two talk or whatever else you guys do.

You end up becoming something of a swim instructor to the youngest mutants, or just those that can’t swim in general. This is something Remy finds extremely entertaining and he’s always teasing you about it. luckily its easy to shut him up with a kiss, or by knocking him into the pool. Or both. He doesn’t mind.

597 notes · View notes

kyunzin · 8 months ago

Text

𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲

✰ characters ✰ 𝐘. 𝐄𝐫𝐞𝐧

✰ summary ✰ don’t say things you don’t mean, unless you do mean them. in that case eren can fulfil all your requests (f!reader)

✰ tags/warnings ✰ nsfw, ex!eren, alcohol use, degradation, spanking, daddy kink, cum eating, squirting. praise kink, overstimulation, pussy licking

✰ kyun’s note ✰ it’s been long overdue, two long fics in a row is tough gang dont do this at home. also sorry for any spelling mistakes i am sleep derived

it was definitely a good idea to go out with the girls

it was probably a bad idea to not send eren home with all the drinks you had earlier clouding your judgment

it was absolutely going to hurt in the morning but that is the last thing that's on your mind right now it will be a problem for later

you and eren had gotten together in high school and stayed together for the duration of high school. the both of you being fairly well known though he was more popular than you were.

the both of you had different passions and wanted to peruse different careers. him wanting to play basketball professionally and you didn’t really want to have a boring 9-5 either so you chose to be an influencer.

you both supported each other and both of you became very successful in what you did. eren signing with a good team and you having nearly up to a million followers. you made sure to go to every one of his games and he would be sure to mention you on his socials and even point to you at games.

the two of you even had a child together who both of your fans adored. you had him early in both of your careers and had enough money to support him growing up, the two of you thought that you would be able to live the rest of your lives as a family.

that was until about 4 years later when eren’s schedule became to hectic and he spent more time practicing and being out of the country for games to even be home with you, there was a gradual build up to that which you thought you could get through but in the end you realised it was too much for you and he accepted that.

in the end the both of you decided to spilt apart as is was just too much on you. both of your fan bases were sad to see their favourite couple break apart but you assured them that it was mutual and the two of you ended on good terms, deep down you still loved him but you let him go knowing it was for the better.

eren always made sure to send money to support both him and you even though you told him that he didnt need to send you money as well. he also did regular calls to check in to see how the both of you were doing, and when he was back in the country he made sure to see you if he could spending time with his son and even you.

you know he loved his son from the way he would always get souvenirs from countries when he was out and even got some jerseys from his sons favourite players even if he did pout complaining because he wasn’t his favourite.

this went on for about a year and it worked really well for the three of you, your sons fifth birthday passed with eren doing his all to be there buying him an expensive gift that your son absolutely loved. eren had lately had been spending more time over due to the season, there not being a lot of games and you decided you wanted to go out since it had been a while.

eren has said he would take care of your son while you went out with your friends saying that you deserved the time to have fun. he took your son over to his house so that you could get ready in peace telling you he would keep him for the weekend so you could relax.

once the both of them had left the house you called both sasha and mikasa telling them the plans and they decided to come over to help you get ready. they arrived soon with their things and the three of you started to get ready.

you had your hair and make up done all that was left was your outfit. you had no idea what to wear as it had been a long time since you had gotten dressed up like this, the girls made their way to you closet and started picking through your stuff looking for something for you to wear.

being pregnant had made big changes to you body which left you feeling less than confident after your giving birth but as the years went by some changes left and some stayed. for one your tits and ass filled out as well as you hips getting wider giving you a near hourglass figure.

you were pretty self conscious about your body but everyone around you encouraged you to embrace your new body as they said it made you look sexy and you believed them, looking at yourself differently you loved your new self.

the girls had picked out a dress you don’t even remember buying. a long-sleeve red dress that stopped just under you ass with red cross slits trailing down the side exposing some skin. you paired it with a classic set of black heels and a red bag to match.

the other two were also ready when you had finished getting dressed so you made sure you had everything you needed and sasha drove you to the club blasting music all the way there.

you got into the flub with no problem all of you being over the required age and the three of you went to get drinks to start your night off, weaving your way through the bustling crowd and over to the bar where you all order your first round of drinks keeping you tab open just in case you want to get more.

you and mikasa take a few more shots sasha only having a few being your designated driver for the night not that she really needed any as she would be asked to have just as much fun either way. after you finished your drinks the three of you moved over into the dancing crowd losing yourselves to the music.

you swung your body to the beat of the music sasha in front and mikasa behind you, your as shaking with every sway of your hips. you could tell that many men wanted to join you but you could see both of the girls pushing the away as they know about your lingering feelings for eren.

the song changes and you recognise it as ‘mad at me by sexxy red’ realising that you know the lyrics and you start singing it along with the others in the room, knowing it lyric for lyric shaking your ass to the beat people around you dancing to the music.

when the next line come on you shout it out like there's no tomorrow “fuck me like you mad at me baby, I need a freak to drive me crazy!” and you sing the rest of the song with the same passion until it finishes and you’re out of breath.

the next song plays and you feel all the energy you had from before now depleted and decide to go pay for your last drink of the night leaving sasha and mikasa on the dance floor.

it didn’t take long for you to reach the bar and pay but on your way back to the girls some one stopped you trying to pull you for a dance. but you quickly pushed them away not in the mood walking to your friends even faster.

you get to the girls in record speed in no time though all the remaining energy you had no completed, the girls notice this and decide it’s time for you all to go home.

you drip mikasa home first knowing she has to go to bed for work in the morning. and then sahsa takes you back to your house with you dozing off on the way back. you didn’t even realise that you had faleen asleep until you felt sasha gently shake you awake.

thanking her for the ride home you wish her a safe journey back walking up to your front door, stumbling on the short walk due to the alcohol still flowing in your system. checking the time to see that it was almost past midnight and you know that your son should have gone to bed ages ago feeling bad that you couldn’t tell him goodnight.

when you walk in it takes a while for your eyes to adjust to the light which you were sure you turned off when you left, squinting only to see a figure sitting on the couch. you take off your heels setting them to the side and look up to see the figure still there.

once your eyes get accustomed to the light you realise that’s it’s eren sitting there who has been sitting there staring up at you since you walked in, and you think maybe you’re just hallucinating from the alcohol in your system but upon further inspection you realise that he’s actually there.

“eren? what are you doing here? where’s my baby?”

for a second he doesn’t say anything and just eyes you up but then he speaks up.

“c’mere here baby”

the space between you brows crease at the pet name but you move towards him nonetheless, coming to stand up in from of him looking down at him.

“I dropped him off at my mums place, don’t worry about him for now”

he gently pulls you down to straddle you making your dress ride up a little bit, leaving the two of you face to face. you don’t instantly question his actions but your face conveys your confusion, but instead of saying anything he just sits there rubbing slowly up and down your thighs spread over him.

“what’s going on, is something wrong?”

but instead of answering your question he laughs and pulls out his phone swiping though as if looking for something.

“how about you tell me what this is about first”

you’re confused at first but then once the video starts playing your eyes widen in shock. it’s a video of you in the club singing to “mad at me” shouting the lyrics to the song.

“wanna explain this to me”

he’s still smiling as he says it and you know there's no way to get out of this. there's no possible excuse he would believe after seeing that, which brings up the question of where he got it from.

“who took this video and how do you have it”

he turns off his phone slipping it back into his joggers the action causing you to shift in too of him, your hands coming to rest on his shoulders as to not fall off him.

“it was posted online and someone sent it to me, and don't try change the subject. what’s this about you wanting to fuck. if you wanted some dick all you had to do was say so princess. you know i never say no to you baby”

in truth it had been a while since you were active, though it was mainly because of your lack of time due to taking care of you son as well as working.

part of it had to do with the fact that no dock would be able to compare to eren's. the way he would fuck you was to good for you to ever try it with anyone else.

you had kind of missed this intimate part of your relationship, you knew eren wasn’t the type of guy to sleep around and you are sure if he did you would have found out by now and you didn’t want to seem to desperate by asking him about his life without you as you respected his privacy as he did yours.

“why you silent for pretty, aint got nothing to say or did you really mean what you said. what was it again, you wanted me to fuck you like I was mad at you cause I can do that baby if it’s what you want, do you want that?”

as you contemplate your answer you notice his hands don’t stop but smile drops a serious look falls over his face. he probably knows that your drunk and no os giving you a way out of this.

knowing him if you said no he would step back and act as if it didn’t happen. the thing is that you do want this to happen, maybe it’s the alcohol or the fact that you’re just really pent up and horny but you don’t see a reason to decline his offer.

you nod your head to agree but he doesn’t seem satisfied with that hands stopping to grip at your thighs squeezing them lightly.

“no princess, I need words. you say yes we continue. say no and I’ll take you to bed and go back home, answer me properly”

knowing this is your last chance to back out you appreciate his efforts in order to confirm your consent and it just gives you even more reason to say yes, knowing that he’s being respectful even though he couldn’t have done what he wanted knowing you have no way of defending yourself in this state.

“yes eren, I want this. I want you. fuck me please, i need you“

you hardly have time to register what’s happening before he’s lifting you up and making his way to your old shared bedroom. you wrap you legs around his firm torso and cling onto him tighter, even though you know that there no way he will drop you.

“only since you asked me so nicely, I’ll give you what you need don’t worry baby”

the two of you reach the bed room in record speed and eren gently sets you down on the edge of the bed kneeling down in front of you both of his hands still on the side of your thighs looking up at you with a mischievous grin.

his mouth latches onto you barely clothed sex sucking on your clit in a way that has you gasping out in ecstasy. it’s no lie to say that eren knows every inch of your body inside and out. he knows all the things that make you squirm and scream. where to touch and lick as well as h to e spots indie you that make your arch into his touch.

he moves on from sucking on your clit like a mad man thirsting for water and moves down to you dripping whole, sinking his tongue into your tight heat that hadn’t had any attention for a while. not that there weren’t a few visits from your bullet vibrator it just couldn’t make you cum the way you did when eren would fuck you.

“fuck, she really missed me didn’t she ma?”

the way he’s talking to your pussy has you rolling your eyes, but they then roll for a different reason as he adds one finger teasing his way inside of you alongside his hot tongue. “oh fuck, ‘ren don’t stop please” your hand reaches for his head gripping his hair causing it to fall loose as you pull his face further into your cunt.

both his tongue and fingers pistoling into you at a harsh pace so he not surprised when you end up cumming into his mouth as he starts to suck on your clit. he doesn’t stop scissoring his fingers inside you until you stop cumming and your moans die out, though your legs still tremble slightly due to the force of your orgasm.

“we aint done yet princess, you said you wanted to be fucked right and that’s what you’ll get. flip over”

you may be a bit drunk but that doesn’t stop you from turning over at the speed of light making you a bit lightheaded but you do regret it as you miss when eren pulls of his top and steps out his trousers and boxers, kneeling back behind you slapping his cock against your ass cheeks.

“you ready for me baby?”

he watches as you nod your head eagerly and lines his cock up with your pussy sliding in with predicted ease, filling out all the way to the hilt. both of you let out moans of pleasure “fuck- I missed you” you’re not sure if he’s talking to you or your pussy but you’re to full and stretched out to care. it would be an understatement to say that you also missed the fill of his cock. it was more like the longer you were apart the more you craved to feel him.

he was feeling sympathetic knowing that it had been a while since you had fuck him, or anyone for that matter, but when you start to rock back into him letting out small mewls of pleasure he decides not to hold back. “such a desperate whore, you cant wait to fuck yourself on my cock huh?” his words are accompanied by a hard slap to your ass causing your movements to stagger with a loud moan of “f-fuck, you’re taking too long”

he lets you move as you please for a few more moments before growing impatient and gripping your waist slamming his hips into yours. “d-daddy- fuckk!” you cant see it but you can hear the smirk as he says “you like it when daddy fucks you like this don’t you?” as he sends another harsh thrust you way, rocking the bed with the force of his thrust.

he continues with his timely thrust with the occasional slap to your ass, oscillating between that or squeezing it in both hands and playing with the fat. he can feel the way you clam down on him when he does that, knowing your body inside and out plays well in is favour, not so much in yours.

he spares no energy with is thrusts as he knows you like it when he's rough with you, fucking you into the soft sheets wit vigour, deep strokes hitting your cervix every time, the tip brushing against your sweet spot on every quick roll of his hips.

he's not surprised when he begins to hear your familiar slurred pleas of " daddy please. 's too much. slow down" to which he does the opposite and uses one and to steady your waist and the other one to hold your neck keeping your back arced "remember, you asked for this princess," your unable to move, sheets bunched up in your hands, hips held high by him, face pressed into the bed.

"made it loud and clear waat you wanted and now im giving it to you"

the slick sounds of sex circulate the room, your nonsensical moans bouncing off the walls in the room along with his skin slapping against yours as he hammers is cock into your dripping pussy. "since you asked for it m sure you can take it like a good girl cant you? noting you havent done before"

you can feel is cock start to pulse inside you and you know that he's close , and you're on the verge of release, with the way eren's pounding into you you doubt you'll be able to last much longer as well as the fact that its been ages since your last fuck, which was eren.

"next time you want something, just fucking ask"

the last three words of his sentence are each punctuated with a harsh trust, sending you over the edge as you begin to squirt all over is cock and onto the sheets below you. he can feel the way your pussy spasms around is cock as he fucks you through your orgasm, slowing down to ease you through it.

"that's it cum on daddy's cock, its all fucking yours baby, nobody can have me but you"

its only a couple more languid trusts until he's spilling is hot seed inside you with a groan of your name on his lips, hips stuttering as his grip tightens enough in a way you're sure will leave marks in the morning, body doubling over your trembling frame while he locks his hips with yours, emptying is tick load deep into your pussy.

only wen he's sure that there's no more does e finally pull out of your near limp body and gently rolls you over onto your back. peppering kisses down your torso till he settles between your legs were he begins to suck the cum out of you, causing your legs to clam around is head.

"nononono- fuck. i cant, s too much no more."

he's relentless not stopping even as your and tug at his air, pushing is tongue deep into your pussy and licking your mixed juices out of you. "just one more baby, i know you can give it to me" he's not wrong as only a second after he presses his thumb to your clit, you're cumming for the third time that evening shaking in is hold.

after tat e makes sure to clean you out as best as he can, dressing you into comfortable clothes. after cleaning himself he carries you to the guest bedroom and tucks you in deciding to leave until you reach out to him pulling him back.

he ends up wit is arms wrapped around you and your head tucked underneath is, drifting into a deep sleep. you're sure that in the morning the two of you will have a lot of things to talk about.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐍

872 notes · View notes