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elliesanqel · 4 months ago

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catharsis

sypnosis; after ellie had a nearly heated argument with seth over something he said about you, your best idea was to take her home, but you get caught up in the car—relieving her anger. cw; angst, smut, sub!ellie, soft dom!fem reader, oral sex, strap use (referred to as a cock), multiple orgasms, fluff, e!receiving all, not proofread, men and minors dni. a/n; can i just say a HUGE thank you for 1k on my obsessed fic, i was really not expecting it to reach that 😭💞 i love you all! basically i have ALWAYSSS wanted to write car sex—its just so hot to me so i had this specific idea💋 and im in the midst of writing lots of requests rn so they will be released soon! anyways hope you enjoy!

➝ masterlist

seth had already spat out a nasty comment your way as you walked off hand in hand with ellie. she initially tried her best to ignore the fact seth had basically told you both to leave for kissing anyway, but his next comment sent ellie off the rails and you weren’t expecting it.

a loud-mouthed dyke.

ellie let go of your hand and whipped around like someone had just thrown something at her, and her eye twitched. you watch as she walked away from you and towards seth, her finger raising to point at him, her brows knitted together. “the fuck did you just say?!” she spits out as she storms towards him, the only thing you could do was step in front of her and press your hands to her chest, holding her back.

your eyes look up at hers that were burning into seth as she never lost eye contact with him. “ellie, ellie—no!” you warn, her still moving towards seth as you spoke and had your hands on her chest, but she eventually stopped once you pressed her away firmly. her eyes finally broke from seth, falling down and inking into yours, her gaze instantly softening as soon as they met. she knew by the stern on your face that she’d better stop, especially since everyone was already staring.

before you knew it, you were hand in hand with your girlfriend, walking out of the bar, your eyes looking at hers from the side and you could practically see the steam coming from her ears. you sigh as you both walk to the car, letting go of her hand as she gets the keys from out her back pocket, unlocking the car and getting in the driver seat and you got in the passenger side.

she started the car, the engine roaring as she pulled out of the car park, driving off. the ride home was awkwardly silent—you were just in utter shock, and ellie was still very much angry. so angry that she hadnt even put her hand on your thigh while driving, which she normally did every single time—the fact that she didnt want to touch you made her anger prominent enough.

you notice ellies face, too. eyebrows knitted together, nose slightly scrunched, lips pursed and her cheeks flushed slightly, eyes narrow as they stayed on the road infront as she drove. nothing but the sound of the engine between you both, but, you decide to break the silence, feeling as though the awkwardness was swallowing you whole.

“why did you do that, ellie? we could have just walked away and ignored him.” you say, your voice low and tone soft, making sure it didnt sound like you were scolding her as you didnt want to make her more angry than she already was. she rubbed her brow, letting a sigh flow past her lips as she pouted them a little.

“well, who else was g’nna shut him up? dickhead had no right to call you that. you know i hate it when—” she says, her tone very firm, her anger obvious in her words, but you cut her off.

“i know, i know. i get it.” you sigh out, rubbing your eyes. you knew ellie was very protective of you, no matter how much of a loser she was she’d never let anyone fuck with you, she drew the line there. her hands were gripping the wheel tightly, her teeth finding her bottom lip. you found that after you’d said this, she had started to rant about it to let her anger out, but it didnt seem to work.

she rubbed her eyes with one hand as she rambled on, curses, groans and insults leaving her mouth. all this, and an idea still managed to swarm your head. how about you release her anger for her?

“he’s such a fucking—“ she rants, but you stop her by your confident words. “stop the car.” you say bluntly, with a hint of something else behind those words. her brows furrow further as she suddenly goes quiet from her rambling, her eyes meeting with yours for a split second. “huh? why?” she asks, confusion in her voice.

“pull over, ellie.” you whisper, your tone firmer now, almost seeming to stun her but she does comply, the fact that you were so strict with what you said making her pull the car over quickly and urgently. she was very much confused, parking the car on the side of the empty road. you grin to yourself, opening the glove box. “get in the backseat, baby.” you tell her.

she raises on eyebrow as she eyes your every movement, but somehow she doesnt seem to want to argue, and instead unclips her seatbelt slowly, manoeuvring into the backseat as she sits in the middle with her legs spread, seeming to get a small hint of what you were doing. especially when you were in the glovebox.

of course—ellies strap was in there.

you grab it in your hand and unclip your seatbelt, getting into the backseat. ellie reaches her arms out to you, grabbing your arms and then your hips, placing you on top of her lap as your legs rest either side of her waist. she was probably thinking you wanted her to fuck you. little did she know it wasnt like that. her hands caressed over your hips, her thumbs rubbing soft circles. “mm, y’want me to fuck you baby? right now?” she hums softly, her lips against your ear. however, you just laugh softly.

“no—you’re the one getting fucked, princess.” you grin, pressing your lips to her ear now, mimicking her own movements. you giggle to yourself as you could practically feel her smile faltering, her eyes widening and her legs spreading further. you move your head back, making eye contact with her puzzled face, your nose brushing against hers. “let me rail that anger out of you, hm?” you bite your bottom lip, watching the way her eyes pretty much fill with desperation.

she remained silent but she blinked, feeling herself getting wetter and wetter by the second, before you know it, you’d moved her to lay down and you hover over her, her jeans and boxers on the floor of the car—your skirt and panties in the same place. there was something so ironic about using ellies strap to fuck ellie with it. seems like the perfect way to go.

you strapped it on, not being able to help the moments that flush in your mind of every time ellie had fucked you senseless with this. you let the clear, veiny silicone brush against her already dripping folds, her head leans back on the car door at the first bit of contact, her eyes rolling back and her mouth opening in a silent moan.

you grin as you watch her face contort—starting to lift her shirt and move her flannel up, your lips finding her stomach. you kiss down her pretty waist, the way her stomach flattens with the sharp breaths she takes due to your soft movements, your lips pressing softer kiss on her hip bones as they arch up.

you meet with her folds, your tongue darting out to lick up her wet slit and swirl around her puffy clit. her arms lean back to grip onto the door, her hips arching up. “fuck! oh fuuuck—don’t stop. ohh, goddd…” she whines, swallowing hard as her eyes roll to the back of her head, her hips fucking themselves on your tongue.

you refused to praise her aching hole with your tongue, you wanted to save that for your cock and make her take it like a good girl. you gave her soft kitten licks, swirling your tongue over her bundle of nerves and up and down her slick heat, paying the area in particular that made her whine the most.

you could slowly feel her body shake, already teetering on the edge from your tongue on her clit, now she was sensetive wasnt she?

her hand instantly reached down to grab a fistful of your hair, fucking her pussy on your lips as she pushed your head in further. “fuuuuck baby—g’nna cu—oh god…!” she cries out, her hips grinding on your face as she fiercly cums all over your tongue. your quick to react, taking all her juices into your mouth and swallowing it up like it was flowing gold.

you pull your face out of her heat, seeing her eyes shut in ecstasy. the windows of the car had steamed up and it felt awfully hot. before ellie could even open her eyes, you had her flipped over and pulled her hips up so she was on her hands and knees on the seats, your hands curling around her hips. “you’re gonna take this like a good girl, ain’cha, princess?” you speak, voice low and seductive. you knew she was no longer angry and that you’d likely relieved her stress, but you wanted to fuck her nastily.

she bows her head, nodding quickly. “y-yes baby. shit—i—“ you instantly cut her off by rolling your hips forward, your cock completely bottoming out inside of her tight hole, which made you groan—having to stretch her needy cunt.

“uuuhhh! s—shit—“ she whines, her hand slamming against the steamy car window along with her other one, trying to steady herself as you begin moving in and out of her throbbing pussy, her ass smacking against your hips causing it to ripple as the noises echo throughout the car. any normal person driving or walking by would’ve seen the car rocking.

“s-shit…take it baby. fuuuck, your pussy is so pretty—taking my cock so well.” you whine, the friction from the strap rubbing against your untouched clit. you knew ellie loved it when you treated her like this, praising her and all—you loved it too, treating her like the queen she was. you grip her hips, although you didnt really have to—she was already pushing them backwards onto your cock as you spoke nasty words to her. her hands left two imprints on the steamy window, placing them somewhere else on the window to steady herself further, leaving two more imprints.

every time you thrusted forward, her pussy made squelching noises from her precum dripping on your cock. your hands gripped her pretty waist harder, slamming the thick silicone in and out of her needy cunt. her head arches back and strident moans fell from her throat. you were panting now, but that didnt stop you. ohhh no.

you take her hips and pull her up so her back meets with your chest and she was basically sat on your lap. a cry escapes her throat at the new angle, her body feeling overstimulated. your hands move up under her shirt, gripping both of her small breasts, giving them small squeezes which caused her to whine at your touch. “f—fucking hell—shitttt!” she whimpers out, bouncing herself on your cock. what a needy princess.

you grin, resting your chin on her shoulder as you fuck up into her, some of her hair that had fallen out of her bun stuck to her cheeks that were covered in sweat. one of her hands remained on the window, her other one came to cup your cheek. “m’close. gonna cum baby…ahhh!” her head fell back against your shoulder as she whined this—her mouth staying agape.

“thats it, thaaaats it, cum all over my cock sweetheart. doing so well f’me—mmm…” you groan, fucking up into her further as your words only egg her on, her body beginning to shake again as you repeatedly slam the tip of your cock against her spongey spot.

she shudders on your lap, and you swore you could feel her walls pulsing around you. her eyes squeeze shut, brows knitting together and with a final jolt and a slurred, whore-ish whine emitting from her throat, her cum leaks out of her pussy and all over your cock, a loud gasp following.

“ohhh my fucking god…” she sighs out, her hand slipping off the window which caused a streaky handprint, her head falling onto your shoulder. you give her breasts one last squeeze before you let go and lift her shaky body off of the silicone and she sits against the door while you crawl inbetween her legs to lay there, her hands finding your hair to play with it.

you smile contently, “feel better?” you whisper, voice croaky as you close your eyes, feeling proud. she laughs, her hands gently playing with your hair as she speaks, her tone soft and her voice quiet.

“fuck yeah. i should be pissed more often.” she kissed your hair, letting her words linger. “think we should go home, cuddle in bed. how’s that sound, princess?” you ask, looking into her eyes now.

her eyes soften at your words, looking into yours. “i’d love to, baby.”

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farfromharry · 10 days ago

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Summary: Lando’s girlfriend broke her leg and obviously he had to be the first to sign it

lando norris x reader

w/c 963

A broken leg, that was Y/N’s diagnosis. That and being incredibly clumsy. And she had been sulking about it for the better part of a day.

Lando had been scared to overstep. He knew she was upset, her movements for the next 2-3 months were limited, of course she would be upset. But he missed her. Being a boyfriend had taught him a lot about himself and one of those things was that he was extremely clingy when the right person was involved. He just wanted to spend time with her.

He gave it till 2pm the day after they left the hospital before he broke. He needed bribes and a smile and hopefully everything would go to plan.

The man knocked on the bedroom door, getting no response just as expected. “Are you still moping or can I come in?” It was a dangerous game he was playing. Poking the bear. Luckily for him, this bear had a soft spot. That soft spot was named Lando Norris. She was just as gone for him as he was for her. A match made in heaven.

A huff came from beneath the blankets. It made him smile. “Depends. Did you bring ice cream… or chocolate?” Her voice was quiet, like she was being shy about it. He knew her too well though.

“Chocolate ice cream okay?”

She lifted her head like she was checking he was being honest. The man waved the tub where she could see with a spoon in his other hand. For the first time in a full day, she smiled. “You beautiful man, get over here.”

That was his green light. He basically jogged over to the bed, throwing himself in beside her. He offered the ice cream and a kiss, both doing wonders to lighten her mood.

“How you feeling?” He brushed her hair from her face.

She frowned, curling into his side. “Like I can’t go anywhere without burdening someone.” Considering she had never used crutches, everyone agreed it was best to accompany her places in case she stumbled or fell. It was out of love. No one wanted her to hurt herself more than she already had.

Now it was his turn to frown. He couldn’t even begin to tell her how much of a burden she wasn’t. “I will literally carry you everywhere until it’s healed. You’re not allowed to be sad anymore.”

Unfortunately she knew he was being serious. “Lan, you can’t just—“

“Yes, actually, I can.” He raised an arm, pulled up his sleeve and flexed. “I have incredible biceps. It’d be a breeze.” He winked for good measure and she hated how it made her a little flustered.

It all started with his finger tracing shapes on her leg. That was probably where he got the idea from. Then it graduated to him shuffling down the bed, deciding he had to make his mark on her cast.

She didn’t know where he got the pen, probably in one of his many pockets for some random reason. It did take her by surprise though that he was just blindly helping himself. She might not have minded if he had written her a nice message or something. “Did you just sign my cast?” She blinked, blankly.

“Obviously, that’s what you do with casts.”

Her eyes flickered down to the ink now soaking into the plaster. It was there clear as day. The squiggly lines that somehow made up ‘Lando’ with a little 4 beside it. “No, Lando, you literally autographed it.”

He looked down with a furrowed brow, like he hadn’t even realised what he’d done. It was sort of a reflex. When a pen was put in his hand and he was supposed to sign something, that’s exactly what he did. His signature was scrawled mindlessly across the cast because that’s what he was so used to doing. Over the years he’d signed everything from skin to wrappers. Apparently now he even signed his girlfriend.

“Shit.” Any normal person would have felt guilty or even feigned it, but not him. Lando laughed, like, full belly laughed at his mistake. “I’m sorry, baby.”

The woman rolled her eyes. Admittedly she couldn’t help but feel slightly amused herself.

“I’ll fix it.”

“How?”

There was that evil grin on his face again. “You just eat your ice cream. Let me work my magic.”

She didn’t even want to know what he had planned. When it came to Lando sometimes it was better to turn a blind eye and let him do his thing. She sighed, doing as he said. As long as he didn’t draw something phallic like the child he was, she supposed she could get over it.

The man was concentrating hard. Every now and then she would glance at him, find him with his head practically buried in her thigh and his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth. It was adorable.

10 minutes must have gone by before he finally announced he was done with his masterpiece. “All done.” He sat back with a proud smile on his face.

When she finally took a look, it was like something a crushing teen might draw in the margin of their high school notebook. Hearts, everywhere, followed by a ‘Lando <3 Y/N.’ It was silly, but it made her smile and that was all he wanted to do. Plus now that he’d dedicated his love to her, at least everyone would know she was his.

“I love it, you’re a real artist.”

He beamed. It would be with her for the next 3 months so he was glad she liked it. He stole a quick kiss and then a bit of ice cream when she wasn’t looking. “Good, ‘cause I love you.”

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #formula one #formula 1 x reader #mclaren #lando norris x you #lando norris fluff #mclaren x reader

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marvelwitchergilmore · 11 months ago

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Surprise Marriage

Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> When you and Logan receive some...surprising news, it leads to a lot of unanswered questions.

Disclaimer: One or two swear words here and there. Mostly fluff, chaos, little angst, yearning, kissing and a happy ending. Not Proof Read.

The morning, so far, had been slow for Logan.

Which, thankfully, due to the last couple of years, wasn’t out of the ordinary. Sure, a kid or two might forget to have done their homework or the coffee filter hadn’t been changed. But other than the small, common, everyday mishaps, everything had been pretty normal.

But somehow, when Logan woke up, something felt off.

Maybe it was the quiet hallways, maybe it was the fact he hadn’t seen any other professors in the break room or around the school, or maybe it was the fact that when he walked into the Professor's office, everyone looked at him with…worry.

“What is it? What’s going on?”

“Logan, I think it’s best if you sit down.”

Logan looked around everybody and they all looked worried, too. Not “someone’s dead” worried, but worried enough to make him feel uneasy.

“What’s going on?”

“Have you seen Y/n today?”

Logan shook his head. “She had a late night. She’s probably still sleeping.”

Professor X looked at Storm. “Go and get her for me, please.”

Storm nodded and made her way out of the door and towards your bedroom. Meanwhile, Logan was still confused.

“Charles, what’s going on?”

The man took a small sigh and looked at the papers on his desk before looking back up to Logan.

“Come on, clearly everyone else knows. What is it?”

The Professor went back and forth with himself for a minute before finally looking back up. “I suppose I should tell you. You’re married, Logan.”

Logan laughed. “Excuse me?”

“I received these papers this morning from a law firm in Oklahoma. It seems it took them a while to find an address for you both.”

“Both? What?”

“Here, take a look for yourself.” The Professor pushed the papers to the edge of his desk where Logan took them with caution and a lot of confusion.

“What the hell? When were these even..drawn up? Better yet, who’s my wife?”

“Well, that would be the other question except-”

Just as the Professor was about to finish his sentence, the door to his office opened and Storm walked in with you not far behind. Everyone looked at you…worriedly. Like they knew something you didn’t.

Logan looked annoyed as he flipped through a couple sheets of paper but when he saw you, he held the same expression but only for a minute then it turned into…into something else. Something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

Then you remembered.

It had been laundry day.

And you wore one of his shirts to bed.

Standing in his t-shirt and some plaid pyjama shorts that you found in the back of your wardrobe, your hair down and slightly messy from having only just woken up, you looked around everyone.

“What’s going on?”

“Well, Y/n-”

“Take a look at this.” Logan handed you the pile of paper he had been reading, and with a slightly tired and confused look, you read through it.

What was it meant to be? A news article? A government contract? A kid’s essay who’s handwriting they couldn’t read…again?

But no.

It was anything but.

Well, maybe a government contract…of sorts.

“This is a marriage licence.” You spoke aloud. “Logan, why am I looking at a marriage licence at eight in the morning? Oh my god, are Jean and Scott finally getting hitched. About time.”

“No,” Logan said. “It’s ours.”

“What?”

“It’s ours. We’re married.”

You stopped reading. Even if you had pretended to do so, all the words on the page suddenly became blocks of ink that you couldn’t make out.

“What?”

Then the Professor started to explain. “We were hoping one of you could explain this to us, though if neither of you wish to, that’s completely fine. What happens between a husband and wife is none of our-”

“When did this even happen?” You asked Logan.

“I don’t know.”

“A law firm in Oklahoma sent it over. Apparently it’s taken them a while to find your address.”

You thought for a moment. Yourself and Logan hadn’t been in Oklahoma for nearly ten months. And you certainly didn’t get married. At least, not from memory.

“I need to sit down.”

Logan pushed out the chair beside him with his foot and you fell into the softer leather. You had just woken up and all of a sudden you felt like you wanted to sleep for at least a month.

“We’re married? Are you sure it’s ours? Maybe they got the addresses mixed up and…I don’t know. Got it wrong?”

Logan leaned back and pressed his hand to the side of his face. “Flipped to the back page.”

And so you did.

There was your name. And Logan’s. Signed and dated.

You were married to Logan.

Logan had become your husband as of ten months ago.

You had become Logan’s wife.

“I think I’m gonna puke.”

“You’re not pregnant, are you?” Scott said. Jean hit him on the arm. “What?”

“Hard to not be a little offended at that.” Logan said, half under his breath, half to you.

“Do either of you know when this happened?”

You shook your head, still trying to read the pieces of paper in front of you. When could this have-

“The library.”

“What?”

Logan sat up. “We signed for a package. What kind of delivery company has us sign a marriage contract instead?”

“I don’t know but it had to be there. That’s the only time we ever…wrote our names, signed a piece of paper. It could have been this.”

“We would have noticed if it said “MARRIAGE LICENCE” at the top of the page.”

Then the bell rang.

“We…should pick this up later. For now, let's just try and go about today as normal.”

You could only nod in agreement. And as everyone left, the Professor turned to both you and Logan who were sitting facing each other in your chairs.

“I’ll give you both some time.”

Logan nodded a small thank you and waited until the door closed behind Xavier before he spoke.

You were silent. Still processing. Your heart was like rapid fire against your chest and your vision was slowly losing focus on the paper in front of you.

Logan pulled the paper from your hands and placed it on the desk before shuffling closer and holding onto both of your hands.

“Hey, hey, look at me.” One of Logan’s hands came to rest by the side of your face. “Just breathe. I can hear your heartbeat from here. Just…take a deep breath.”

“We’re married, Logan.” Your voice was quieter than usual.

“I know.”

“We’re married.”

Logan nodded. “I know.”

“What are we going to do?”

“That one I don’t know. What do you want to do?”

You shrugged. “What are we meant to do? By all technicality…we’re married. Husband and Wife. According to this piece of paper, I’ve been a fraud to the government by not going by Howlett.”

“So we…we get a divorce?”

“How? Don’t there have to be…grounds for getting divorced?”

“So, we tell them it was a mistake.” Logan offered. “I’m sure we’ll be divorced as quick as we found out we were- are married.”

You could only nod.

Logan rubbed a thumb over each of your knuckles. “Hey, we’ll be okay. It’ll all be fine. Hey, talk to me. What’s going on?”

“I woke up and found out I’m a wife with a husband. That’s what’s going on. Jesus, are the lights always this bright in here?”

You covered your closed eyes with one hand, trying your best to stop the pounding in your head.

“How can you be so calm about this?”

Logan shrugged. “Figure you’re freaking out enough for the both of us.”

That made you laugh a little.

“Come on, we need to get to class. And you need to get dressed. Unless you want to teach in your pyjamas.”

You looked down at yourself. “Oh, yeah. Sorry about using your t-shirt. Laundry day.”

Logan smiled. “It’s okay. Keep it. It looks better on you anyway.”

Hours later, you found yourself in a pair of jeans you fished from the bottom of your semi-fresh clothes pile and decided to keep Logan’s t-shirt on. A, because it’s one of the most comfortable things you’ve worn, and B, it was the only clean top you had.

And after spending all day teaching classes, you found yourself going through each of your dirty items and throwing them into the washing machine, being careful to make sure there were no sneaky bright or dark colours that made their way into a wash they shouldn’t have been in.

“Hey.”

You turned to find Storm waiting by the door before walking inside.

“Hey.”

“How are you feeling?”

“After teaching a bunch of teenagers all day? Exhausted.” You said with a small laugh. And Storm chuckled for a moment before walking around you and leaning on the wall so she was facing you as you unloaded your dirty laundry into the machine.

“I know that feeling but that wasn’t why I was asking.”

You nodded. You knew that. “I don’t know. It’s just…new information.”

“Have you seen Logan today?”

You shook your head. “Not since this morning. Though he did leave a coffee on my desk when I got back to my classroom after lunch.”

Storm smiled. Between herself and the others (including the kids - though they were yet to find out) Storm thought the best thing to happen was for yourself and Logan to get married. Okay, maybe not in the way it happened. But it was a positive thing.

They had been watching you and Logan for years, becoming friends, becoming teammates, trusting each other, finding your own…ways together. Like with the coffee. Logan only did that with you. Or how, despite only knowing him a week, seemed to know more about him than anyone else did.

You were both so close with each other than some of the kids in the school had questioned your relationship status with each other.

“Have you talked about what you’re going to do?”

“What can we do? The most reasonable, and sensible, thing to do is get a divorce.”

Storm crossed her arms. “Have you talked about maybe…staying together?”

“What?”

Storm shrugged. “It’s an idea. Maybe this is a sign telling you both that there’s something more than just friendship. I mean, going off what you’re currently wearing…that is his, isn’t it?”

You looked down.

“It’s laundry day. He let me wear it.”

“And are you going to give it back, or did he tell you to keep it?”

You were silent and Storm watched as small patches of blush warmed your cheeks. She had her answer.

“Look, all I’m saying is, maybe this is a sign. Maybe this is your chance to see if there is something more between you and Logan.”

“If there was, something would have happened by now.”

Oh, how Storm wished that was true.

But sometimes it was agony watching you both together. Like how at Christmas, you fell asleep against him by the fire and Logan smiled. It wasn’t a big grin, but he smiled. Or how you were the only one Logan would let near him when he had been impaled in his shoulder by a six foot rod. Or how you looked at him. And how he looked at you right back.

There was more than just friendship. A lot more.

“Just think about it.”

And with that she left. And you were left wondering.

What the hell was there to think about? You and Logan were friends, sure, but…more? Sure, when you first met him, it felt instant. Instant likeness, instant trust. And that never came easy for you. Or Logan for that matter. And, yeah, maybe once or twice you had thought something could have happened.

Like the night in the motel room, funnily enough, in Oklahoma.

It had been one bed and you had both woken up and turned to face each other. You had both been talking for a good twenty minutes when the conversation lulled and you were both there. You felt something. You couldn’t put your finger on it but you felt something. But everything was cut short when the owner of the Motel came to knock on the door so he could fix the leaky tap in the bathroom.

Or like the night when you all went camping with the kids.

Somehow, you had found yourself sharing a tent with Logan even though it had been planned for you and Storm to bunk.

You teased Logan on how happy he was to be bunked with you and not Scott. And for a split second, you could have sworn you saw him blush. Though it was probably out of embarrassment of your teasing.

But that couldn’t have been something. It couldn’t have meant anything, could it?

“Couldn’t sleep?”

Logan turned and found the last person he expected to be standing by the door.

“Scott?”

“Figured you’d still be awake and lo and behold, I was right.”

Logan watched as he walked inside and sat across from him. “Have you come to say something, or just be a dick the whole time?”

Scott chuckled, “Maybe a bit of both.”

Logan raised his eyebrows and took another drink.

“Have you talked to her?” Logan knew exactly who he was talking about. But he shook his head.

“Not since this morning.”

“Have you talked about what you’re going to do?”

“What do you want, pal?”

Well, he wasn’t being Logan if he didn’t want to skip the pleasantries.

“I think you and Y/n should give this thing a chance.”

“Excuse me?”

Scott smirked a little. “Come on, you can’t tell me you’ve not thought about it with her. How close you two are, how you both seem to know what the other does before they even do it. And call it what you want, I think this is the perfect excuse.”

“Perfect excuse?”

“To see if something can actually happen between you two.”

“And why should it?”

“Because you’re in love with her.”

For some reason, that felt like a punch to the gut to Logan.

“Look, bub, I know-”

“Logan, the way you look at her isn’t the way a friend looks at another friend. I’ve seen the way you look at her. We all have. From day one, that girl has been something else for you, and even if you don’t know it, the rest of us do. You’re in love with her. You always have been.”

“No, I’m-”

“You can’t deny it, Logan.” Scott told him. “Eventually something is going to snap and it might be too late. So, you’ve done the whole relationship a little backwards. So what? You’d only get divorced anyway if it doesn’t work out. But you need to do something about your feelings, Logan.”

Logan had to laugh. “I think I’d know if I was in love with someone.”

Scott sighed. Did he seriously have to paint Logan a fucking picture.

“You make her coffee every day. You bring her lunch and sit with her every day. She is the first person you go to when you finally want to ask someone for help. And I know for a fact she is the first person you tell anything to. She knows more about you than anyone else in this building does, and that is down to you and everything you have shared with her. Anytime anyone looks in her direction, you aren’t too far behind her.”

“I saw you, that day, when the Mayor and his brother turned up at the school.” Scott continued. “The way his brother was looking her up and down…Logan you were by her side in less than ten seconds and we all saw the look you gave him. That man left the Professor’s office trembling. He also never looked in y/n’s direction again.”

“What’s your point?”

“That you were jealous, Logan. And that, for as much as you can and probably will try and deny it. You love her.”

The conversation lulled for a moment.

“All I’m saying is at least think about it. We’ve all seen you together. Maybe it’s time you finally noticed yourself.”

Logan didn’t see you until the next day when he caught you folding laundry in your room.

“Want some help?”

You turned around and saw him. “Sure. You can start with that pile.”

Logan entered your room, a little more awkward than usual, and started folding clothes.

“How are you…how are you feeling?”

You shrugged. “Like normal, I guess. What about you?”

“Yeah, fine.”

IT was a slight struggle after that but conversation flowed a little easier eventually.

That was something Logan always loved when it came to being around you. He wasn’t the biggest one for talking to people but with you, it was easy. Probably helped by the fact you could somehow change topics at lightning speed.

Conversations with you were never, ever boring.

Even when they were probably meant to be.

And it wasn’t long before your fear surrounding being married…faded.

Around a week later, a leak had sprung on one side of the school which meant having to bunk rooms for a while. Of course, all the kids went with their friends.

But it also meant you had to bunk with someone too.

“You can bunk with me.” Logan told you.

You nodded. “Finally sharing a room. Wow, we’re really moving generations in this relationship.”

“After you, wife.”

This became a common theme, until the weight of the words settled down on both of you once more.

A divorce lawyer had picked up your case.

It would take a couple of weeks to get all the papers sorted, but yourself and Logan would be divorced by the middle of the following month.

Like nothing had ever happened.

Except, it just so happened, that was when something did happen.

Scott and Storms’s words had been playing on Logan’s mind and yours. Not helped by the fact it wasn’t the last time someone held that kind of conversation with either of you.

You found yourself in a similar conversation with Scott, whilst Logan had a similar conversation with Jean.

And then the Professor approached you both, without the other one knowing.

Except he hadn’t been to sit down and talk to you about it. He just made small comments in passing that left you both questioning more and more about your true feelings.

And then Logan found you in the library one night.

“Here you are. You didn’t come to bed so…what are you doing?”

Standing close to the top of the book ladder, you were scanning through different books with a flashlight.

“The main light is too big and the fire’s light doesn’t reach this far back.”

Logan blinked. “That…still didn’t answer my question.”

“I’ve got a new semester of lessons set out. I wanted to get a head start on finding the books needed.”

Logan looked around. “You got a list?”

You looked at him. “Logan, it’s past midnight. Go to bed.”

“That’s not what I asked. Where’s your list? I know you’ve got one.”

Sighing, you reached into your back pocket and held it out. He walked over and plucked it from your fingers.

“There’s twenty six books on this list.”

“And I currently have three. If you still want to help, any that you find, just place them on the table behind the sofa.”

And so he did.

By two in the morning, you’d both found twenty three books in total. Just three more left.

“Is this the right edition?”

“Let me see.”

Logan walked over to where you were still standing on the ladder and handed it up to you. You flipped through a couple of the first pages as you slowly climbed backwards down the stairs.

“Yeah, this is the right one. The last two should be on a lower shelf.”

As you finally reached the last few steps, you felt your foot slip and your knees crashed against the bars. Except, instead of falling backwards, or rolling with the ladder itself, Logan’s hands steadied you.

“You alright?”

You took a second to breathe. Having your life flash before your eyes for a couple of seconds really knocks the wind out of you.

“Yeah, yeah,” you laughed a little. “I’m fine.”

You turned in Logan’s arms and was met with his broad and solid chest as his hands held you at your waist.

“Good,” Logan laughed a little, too.

The sound of your life had always been like music to his ears.

A comfort, even when the moment hadn’t been all that comfortable beforehand.

And for that moment, time seemed to still. Any silence that had been in the room was slowly becoming defending, until your hearing focused on his breathing. The steady rise and fall of his chest and the quickening of your own heartbeat.

The flashlight that you had held in your hands had rolled somewhere onto the floor when you slipped on the ladder.

But you had never seen Logan so…clearly.

You had known him for so long and had even spent nights and mornings in the same bed together. But for the first time, you were committing him to memory. Part of you felt like these moments would go, once the papers came through. That even if neither of you wanted it, something would inherently change between you both once the papers were signed and delivered.

But something in that moment was changing too.

Like how you were realising you never wanted to be away from him. That the best place on this earth was right where you were. In his arms, his eyes on you, and yours on him.

You found yourself leaning in forward, almost as if, if you didn’t get closer to him, he might disappear.

And he was doing the same.

One of his hands came up to your face as he rubbed a couple of strands of your hair between his fingers before he slowly pushed it back and let his gaze wash over you.

He was committing you to memory, too.

His eyes locked on yours once more, just as his other hand trailed down your waist and to your hip.

You fell closer to him.

Or maybe he pulled you closer.

Either way, you never wanted to be without his touch.

What felt like an eternity later, you finally felt his lips against yours and yours against his.

It started off slow. This was new territory for you both when it came to the other. It was slow, full of mixed feelings and…something else.

Then it snapped.

Logan pushed a little harder and you felt your legs hit the back of the book ladder just as his hand and arm snaked around and up your back, holding you flush against him as your own arms pulled him closer to you.

Logan braced the hand that had been by your face, by the side of your head, holding onto the book ladder, keeping you both steady.

And he felt your breath hitch as he stepped into you.

Before you knew it, you were braced against one of the bars on the ladder as Logan’s lips went from yours, across your jaw and down the column of your neck. A small grunt escaped him as your own fingers scratched through the back of his hair and down the back of his neck.

However, just as his lips returned to yours and his hands slipped under the hem of your t-shirt– his t-shirt, as your own started reaching for the hem of his…a clock went off.

“W-w-w-w-w-wait. Wait. Stop.”

“Is everything okay?”

You swallowed. “Yes…no. I don’t know. We shouldn’t be doing this.”

Logan wanted to ask “Why? Why shouldn't we?”. But instead, lowered his head. He knew why.

“You’re right…you’re right.”

Your own temple came to rest against his for a few moments, neither of you wishing to leave the moment just yet.

“We should go…before someone comes in.”

“It’s two in the morning, who is going to come in?”

“I don’t want to leave.”

“Then don’t.”

You stayed quiet for a long time, feeling Logan’s fingers draw circles over your skin. Eventually, the only sound you heard was his heartbeat and his breath, slowly matching your own.

But no matter how much of you told you to stay, you tried your best to fight it.

You and Logan were friends. Friends who were about to get a divorce from a marriage neither of you could remember fully consenting to.

“Goodnight, Logan.”

Reluctantly, you stepped out of his arms, his light grip on your hand not letting go until you were both too far apart to hold on any longer, and made your way through the school until you came across an empty room.

It was the smaller quiet space that overlooked the back of the school. Perfect for the nights when too much noise was keeping you up at night.

Except, it wasn’t noise keeping you awake.

It was your own mind, relieving the one thing you thought you would never do with Logan. The one thing you wanted most to keep going. The one thing you would never forget.

When Logan woke the next day, part of him thought it was all a dream. But even he couldn’t have dreamed up anything from the night before and have it still feel so real in the morning.

Then he didn’t see you for three days.

Save for one moment when he brought a box of your things from his room, to yours. You opened the door, wearing another one of his t-shirts. One that went missing months ago. One that he had seen on your at least a dozen times since. One that he felt he was truly seeing for the first time, on you.

The exchange, coming from the both of you together, couldn’t have felt anything more than awkward.

And then another moment hit.

You didn’t close the door.

He didn’t know what to say.

All he knew was that he wished he was back with you, in the library.

And you were wishing the same thing right back.

“I should-”

“You should-”

A small, awkward laugh came from both of you before eventually you shut the door, wishing you had enough confidence to open it back up and call after him.

Two days later, Logan hadn’t seen you at all.

And a morning meeting, with Storm going to get you from your bed, led to Logan realising why he hadn’t seen you.

“She’s not there?”

Logan turned immediately. “What?”

“Where is she?”

“I don’t know. She’s not in her room or any other place she usually is this early in the morning.”

“Doesn’t she have classes to teach?” Scott asked.

“She doesn’t teach Wednesday and Thursday.” Logan told him.

And it wasn’t long before Logan heard his name being called behind him by Xavier as he marched his way out of the office and to every room he could think you would be.

You were nowhere to be found. It was almost like you hadn’t been there for weeks. The books you had taken out – the ones Logan had helped you find – were piled neatly in your bedroom. On your desk, you had a small wicker basket filled with letters and postcards, all arranged in date order, the newest ones being at the front.

The pictures you had on your windowsill displayed all the people you loved the most. And included a picture from when you had ambushed him on his birthday. He rarely, if ever, took a photo.

But he smiled, albeit a little awkwardly, with you.

“Where could she have gone?”

Logan looked around your room. You wouldn’t have just gotten up and left for good. You loved teaching your kids too much, despite whatever else had happened.

Then Logan saw the framed pictures on the wall, just across from your bed.

“I’ll check with Cyerbro. She couldn’t have gone far.”

“She could be half way across the world by now!”

Logan shook his head. “But she’s not.”

A lot of them were confused, but Xavier watched Logan for a moment.

“Do you know where she is?”

“I have an idea.”

With that, Logan reached for the wall and pulled down one of the smaller frames and carried it out with him.

“Hold on, I’m coming with you.” Storm called out to him.

“You don’t even know where I’m going.”

“Logan, you look like you’re just about ready to punch a bull. I know, right now, even if you are the last person she wants to see, you are the first person she needs. But that also means I know what you’re going to do and, love you or not, Y/n wouldn’t want you to hurt someone or even yourself to find her.”

And Storm was right.

And she was right to tag along.

Because just five hours later, Logan had pulled up outside a local pharmacy. They had received a call on the way; they were heading in the right direction, but they needed to go into the town first. Any chance of finding where she was in the mountains lay where she had been all day.

And it wasn’t long before Storm had to step in to stop Logan from almost killing the cashier.

He had been dancing around the question, leading them all on different tangents of conversation about the town and the people in it before finally he got to his answer.

The cashier nodded. “I don’t know where she lives, but Connie might. She knows everything in the town.”

“Where is Connie?”

The cashier pointed out of the door. “In the bakery, across the street.”

“Thank you,” Logan told him, swiping the picture back up from the counter and walking outside. Storm stopped short behind Logan when she saw he wasn’t moving off the sidewalk.

Then she saw.

You had just left the building and climbed inside your beaten up, old Jeep Wrangler. You pulled out of your parking spot and drove off down the street.

And Logan followed.

However, halfway up the road, he started to recognise the place. He’d been here before, except he was going up the way he would come down and out of the cabin.

So, he took a turn.

He was at your cabin ten minutes before you were. Storm had stayed behind in the town to call the others and let them know what was going on.

“You fixed her up well.”

You jumped at his voice and threw a can of pumpkin puree at his head. Though he managed to catch it before his head made a dent in the can.

“Jesus, Logan.” Then you realised. “How did you find me?”

“You forget that I know you. The pictures on your wall. They’re a lot more recent.”

You didn’t know what else to say so you turned back to your front door and pushed it open, Logan hurrying after you.

“Why did you leave?” He called out, placing the can on the side.

“I didn’t leave.” You called back as you unpacked some of your groceries.

“You disappeared into thin air but you weren’t abducted. I’d call that leaving.”

“I needed a break, Logan. I needed…time.”

“Time from what?”

“From everything. From you, from marriage, from the school, from the library. It’s like I woke up one morning and, quite literally, everything had changed. One day we were- we were teachers and friends…we were us, Logan. And then…we kissed and…I don’t know what we’re meant to do, Logan.” You dropped your head as you pressed your palms onto the kitchen counter.

“Maybe we’re meant to do nothing.” Logan walked towards you. “Maybe we keep things as they are.”

“What? Single and married?”

Logan shook his head, bringing his hand to pull yours to look at him.

“Married and together.”

Your lips parted for a moment, your eyes scanning his face, waiting for the joke to have its punchline.

“So, we did everything a little backwards?” Logan shrugged. “So what.”

“Logan…”

“I love you, y/n.” Logan told you, nothing but seriousness and truth in his eyes. “And I think you love me, too. But you’re scared. And so am I. Do you love me, y/n?”

You were trying your hardest to keep your emotions inside you, but something was failing. “Of course I do.”

“Then we start here, just you and me.”

“If something goes wrong, I can’t lose you. You mean too much to me, Logan.”

Logan smirked. “Good job I can regenerate.”

You scoffed and hit him in the shoulder. “You know what I mean.”

Logan nodded, a faint smile on his face. “I know. You’re not going to lose me, Y/n. You couldn’t ever.”

“Promise me.”

Logan nodded. “I promise. Can I kiss you now?”

Logan didn’t have time to finish his question before your lips met his in a searing kiss, your hands pulling him closer to you whilst his own arms wrapped around you.

Maybe you had done the whole relationship thing backwards, but that didn’t matter. Not anymore.

Not when you finally had each other for life.

#logan x reader #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x fe!reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine x fe!reader #x men x reader #hugh jackman wolverine #x men wolverine #fluff #yearning #best friends to lovers #angst #library kiss #logan howlett x mutant!reader #chaotic family kinda #falling in love #wearing his t-shirt

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danvazini · 3 months ago

Text

kissin’ on my tattoos —

you were booked and busy all day, you couldn’t really find time to fit anyone else in during your business hours, but you did somehow find some time to fit one more person in just before you closed shop for the night.

now playing : kissin’ on my tattoos by august alsina

(📓) client!lara, tattoo artist!reader, fem!reader, gp!lara, masturbation, unprotected sex, teasing, edging, lara’s hella flirty, top!reader, body worshipping, subby!lara, creampie, slight degrading, etc possibly?

(💚) listen lara’s tattoos have me going FERAL. i need her biblically like this really isn’t a joke anymore…

(wc) 2k — prev katz works

—

“another late night” you sighed to yourself, your coworker looked at you from cleaning up their station, “i mean, you only have one client left, they may be fast”

you nodded as they spoke, “there’s no guarantee though, you know how things like this goes” — you said and they nodded.

to be honest, you were so unbelievably tired. you asked your client hours beforehand to send what she wanted so you could print out the stencil and have it ready for her.

it was multiple different tattoos so you just sighed to yourself, hoping that she didn’t want any color because, well you’d have to go in the back for that and find it.

as time slowly began to pass, the time for your next client to come, had as well. you were sitting on your phone, pretty much manspreading when you heard the front door chime, and a soft “hello?” come from the front.

you went up there and greeted her, “hi, i’m lara” and you nodded, “nice to meet you”, you took her over to her station and you two began to talk.

you weren’t sure if it was her aroma or scent, or hell anything in particular. something attracted her to you, while you two specified the area of her tattoo lara would look you up and down, bite her lip sometimes, giggle a lot. kind of, flirting? you tried to remain professional, of course, but it was kind of hard.

she wanted a tattoo on her waist, at first she asked if you all did them and you explained that you did as long as the client wanted that. — you asked lara to remove her jeans, and she did. you were surprised to see she had on boxers, but honestly, you saw the brand through her pants, which were low waisted.

you asked for permission before pulling her boxers off of her, and you covered her up with a towel, aside from the area you needed.

you again printed the stencil, this time making sure it was the right one before beginning the lining on lara’s waist, you had the indian woman sit at a specific angle to make sure you got it right.

she wanted it from her waist, down to her thigh, so it was a pretty long tattoo, especially for the first one, of many. she kind of twitched a little while you used the pencil to sketch out the start of the tattoo.

you held her hips down, and looked up at her, “are you okay? wanna start somewhere else?” you asked and she shook her head, “no no, go on” and you nodded. — you continued with your process, successfully finishing the lining of her tattoo.

now you had to get the ink ready in the pen, “do you want any color?” you casually asked, but you being faced the opposite direction and also being far away from her, lara didn’t really hear you.

“ma’am?” you called out to her, “hm?” — “did you want any color?”, and she thought for a bit, “give me the color you think suits me best” and you nodded, “okay”

you left to the back and came with a random color you felt would be the best fit, you held lara down in a specific angle, but you were gentle with her.

while you moved the pen on her body, you subconsciously cooed to her, saying she was doing good already and other little praises for not moving too much. — which in your head, meant nothing, but in lara’s head, it was much more.

you held her hand the further you went down, it wasn’t out of the ordinary for you to hold your clients hands during tattoos. — lara whined a bit the closer you got to finishing.

“hold still for me, okay beautiful? i’m almost done” you softly said, and squeezed her hand a bit to give her some reassurance while you finished up.

you wiped any access ink there was, and finished off that area. once you finished, lara let you go. “uhm, could i go to the restroom?” — “mhm, its all the way in the back towards the left” and she got up, grabbing her clothes then went towards the bathroom.

you moved back over to the couch you were just sitting in and sighed to yourself, trying to calm down and not think about anything else. — over in the restroom, the indian woman was fighting for her life.

she had a boner — she couldn’t even attempt to hide it if she wanted to, poor baby was so embarrassed she just sat in the bathroom and tried thinking about anything to take her mind off it.

each time she’d get to a certain thought, she’d think about you and how you cooed to her. the way you praised her, even for the simplest things.

lara put back on her boxers, hoping it wouldn’t be too bad, and also slipped back on her jeans. she looked in the mirror and decided to just wrap her jacket around her waist before walking back out.

“hi” she softly said, making you look back at her, “hey, are you ready for the next one?” you asked, smiling to her as she nodded.

“just here for now” she said, circling the area she wanted the next tattoo. you nodded. as she sent you the next tattoo she wanted. "you're actually doing bette than a lot of my other clients" you said casually, and it was true.

they'd either be a bit too scared to approach, get the tattoo done or they're not sure what they actualy want until after you've already sketched out on their body. — and let's not talk about the placement, because they always change it last minute. it drives you crazy.

the more you casually praised lara, the harder it was for her to just play it off. again, she excused herself to the bathroom, of course you’re not gonna say no, so she went. — you finished printing out the picture and began getting everything ready while she was there.

now what lara was experiencing was the last thing you’d expect. she had another boner, this time it wasn’t as easily avoidable. she had to do something about it because the longer it would just rub against the fabric of her boxers and jeans, just listening to the way you praised her, she’d cum in her pants.

the indian woman asked for about ten minutes and you said sure, because hell to be honest, you had no where else to go. she was your last client and despite how tired you previously felt, it’s all gone away now.

lara quickly removed her jeans, pulling her cock from her boxers and began slowly stroking herself. she tried thinking about literally anything that could rush this process, speeding up her hands.

her mind kept going back to you, and she would twitch each time she’d think about you. — you’d soon hear the whimpering coming from the bathroom, going back there to check on lara but, she never gave you a verbal answer.

you announced you were coming in, only to find lara jerking off while moaning your name, her vision was blurry due to how needy she was, and honestly. it was late, no one else was coming in, why not help her out?

you walked closer to lara, and you wrapped your hands around her cock, using your other hand and pulling her into a kiss. she was much louder now, her vision going in and out, noticing it was you touching her.

she removed her hands, poor loser trying to take your clothes off so she would feel you better, closer, and deeper.

you removed your bottoms (skirt, pants, shorts whatever you choose) and slid your panties to the side. you began to line yourself up with lara’s tip before lowering yourself down on her.

she grabbed at your hips, pushing you further down, immediately falling in love with how tight you were over her. she immediately began thrusting inside of your heat, pulling at your top, her eyes so soft and her lips were pouty :( — lara whined as you teased her, you made her slow down and slowly removed your top, but her eyes were so focused on yours and your lips.

once you finally removed your top and your bra, she grabbed at your breast, sucking on one while she played with the other. she even left a heart shaped hickey on one, while also marking up your neck.

lara was so desperate, the rhythm you were going drove her crazy, she was so needy and it was all caused by you. she barely even knew you but here she was getting slutted out by her tattoo artist.

“fuckk faster, please..” lara begged, her voice so cute and low </3 , almost like a whisper, you decided to tease her by making her beg you, saying little things like, “i didn’t hear you, puppy” and more.

lara began to whine, she couldn’t handle your teasing, you’d clench around her, basically choking her cock, your arousal would drip down her, touching her thighs, the way you moaned in her ear just made her squirm. — she craved you and all that is you.

she pulled your body close to hers, nipping at your skin, you sped yourself up, your back arching against lara’s slowly overheating body. — the indian woman slowly began to grown closer to her orgasm, so you got up.

she looked at and whined, her hands wanting to wrap around her shaft, wanting to touch you, feel you again. “you can’t cum this early, beautiful”

you held lara’s chin, while her eyes were hooded, struggling to look up at your face, her eyes staying steady on your breast. — when they finally moved up, she was focused on your lips.

she pulled you closer to her, you looked into her eyes while you stroke her, taking her lips into a lustful kiss. lara couldn’t help but moan into the kiss, grabbing at your waist to get you closer to her.

you once again pushed lara’s cock inside of you, watching the way she’s react. “such a fucking loser” you said in her ear, your breather going down her neck. you kissed and sucked at lara’s neck while you sped up.

she whined in your ear, saying she was gonna cum and you only sped up, you were whimpering as your own orgasm approached, lara began thrusting inside of your cunt, her fingers going to rub your clit to rush your orgasm. — which happened.

watching you cum on her cock only pushed lara closer to her orgasm, you continued to grind on her. she was twitching, begging you to let her cum, which you finally let her.

she desperately thrusted her cock inside of you until she shot her hot load deep inside your womb, her body slightly shook as she finished.

she sighed against your chest, then she sat back against the wall. she was trying to calm her breathing when her brain finally came back to reality.

she was still in the bathroom, covered in her own load. she hurried and fixed herself up, tying her hair back before washing her hands and walking out.

you looked at the black haired woman when she walked back in, “are you alright?” you softly asked, and she nodded. — you sat lara down back in her seat to get her final tattoo done.

“i heard you back there, i was gonna check but you seem to be alright” you calmly said while doing her tattoo, lara nodded, internally blushing at the fact you heard her getting off to you.

soon you finished her tattoo, and you were packing everything up when she walked up to you with the money. normally, you’d take it and send them on their way but, it was something about her that made you just have her pay your less and keep the rest. — and well that’s what happened.

#kpop #r talks #girl group smut #kpop smut #katseye #katseye imagines #lara raj #katseye lara raj x reader #lara raj x reader #lara katseye #katseye smut #katseye lara #spotify #wlw yearning #wlw

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kooberryfields4ever · 1 year ago

Text

lucky

hello !!!!!!! was not expecting this to get as long as it did nor did i expect the turn but what can i say i am a creature driven by self satisfaction……… :( anyways originally this was gonna be like a 1k max drabble bc i rewatched jks sleepy eepy sweetie live and he was twitching and looked so pretty that i HAD to write something domestic !!!! but i am an ANIMAL and thinking about jungkook sleepy in the morning made me feral😇 hope u enjoy!!!!!!!!

wc: 2500+

content warnings : fluff & smut below the cut, light nipple play, fingering, jungkook has a cute panty kink(?), jungkook is an unstoppable force, unprotected piv sex, gendered terms (the word “girl” is used & detailed desc of female anatomy), messy orgasm

MDNI !

You’ve been awake for ten minutes now, just watching Jungkook twitch in his slumber. It’s early morning – a little after 8:00AM – and he looks so unbelievably beautiful under the gentle sunlight flittering through the blinds. With a soft smile on your lips, your eyes trail over his eyebrows, paying attention to how they raise and drop in his unconsciousness, moving down to his relaxed jaw and the divots of his shoulder blades when your gaze lowers. The gentle rise and fall of his back as he breathes and the fist that keeps clenching and unclenching while you lay beside him makes your smile widen. Jungkook is a breath-taking sight, looking so at peace while you observe him. His muscles are softer in their unflexed state and you can’t help it when your finger finds his right triceps and paints shapes over it. His tattoos are next on your list of targets, and soon your wandering finger is tracing the inked motifs like you’re re-carving them into his skin, following the lines and curves of the patterns as if they were new to you.

They are very much not new to you, though. You think you’ve studied them over a hundred times, committed them to memory, made them so indelible in your mind that you’re sure you could redraw them perfectly if he ever asked. You chance at moving your touch to his fingers, watching his face amusedly when you lift his hand to inspect them and he furrows his brow. The soft letters adorning the bones of his joints are met with the pad of your thumb as you stroke them adoringly, fighting the desperate urge to kiss his calloused palm when the tips of your fingers press against the rough skin. Your fingers don’t get to explore for long before he opens a single eye suspiciously, curling his fingers around your hand to stop you.

“Good morning,” his voice is deeper, sluggish, yet gentle still through the rasp. “You having fun?”

“I was,” you smirk, intertwining your fingers with his instinctually, “until you so rudely interrupted me.” His thumb rubs your knuckles sleepily, bringing them to his lips for a chaste kiss, turning onto his back, pulling you closer to his chest and tucking his other hand behind his head.

“Mm, my bad.” Comes his short reply, blinking his eyes open once again to find yours. His fingers card through your hair when you sit up on your elbows, leaning against his solid frame. His tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip while you allow yourself to continue observing him from above now that he’s awake.

“Do you know you twitch a lot in your sleep?” You ask, reaching over to rub some sleep from the corner of his eye. Your thumb runs over his cheek, then down to his lower lip, dragging it down playfully and watching it bounce back when you let go abruptly. He shakes his head slightly to answer your question but sits quietly, content to just let you fiddle, fondly mirroring the smile you offer him when you lean forward to press your foreheads together. “I should’ve filmed it. You almost knocked me out.”

“Instead of leaving me in peace?” He quirks a brow, tilting his head back to press a kiss to your lips quickly before lowering it again. “I don’t think I’m capable of hurting you, even if I’m unconscious. It’s written out of my biological code.”

You giggle, shaking your head. “As if I would’ve let you anyway, we both know I'd win in a fight.”

Your lips chase his naturally, and he hums sweetly when you connect them again, smirking. “Is that a challenge?” He mumbles into your mouth, you feel his hands snake around your waist, pulling you closer still before flipping you onto your back effortlessly. He continues kissing you like that.

“Because I really beg to differ,” he ruses, trailing a hand down to the back of your thigh to hold your leg up against his hip. “Think I’d win in a heartbeat.” Another kiss. “How easy was it for me to get you like this?” His hips move against yours in a slow motion, making you very aware of a growing presence between his legs as it presses against you through all your layers of clothing.

“You play dirty, that’s why,” you joke back, pushing your palm against his forehead. He moves away from your lips to attach his mouth to your neck, kissing down to your collarbone delicately, the same way your fingers did to him minutes ago. “Caught me off guard, that’s- that’s not fair,” the small moan that leaves you after your stutter is unintentional. Curse Jungkook and how easily your body gives in to his ministrations. You loathe the way he seems to revel in it too, snickering when he moves his hips again.

You lean your head back against the pillows when he pushes your tank top up over your tits and you can feel his lips enclose around your nipple. It’s not a fair fight, Jungkook knows that. Knows that when his teeth brush against the darker flesh it’ll pebble against his tongue. Knows that when his hands slip down past your waist and hips, your legs will spread instinctually for him. Knows that when your fingers tangle in his hair, he’s got you.

“Could die between your tits,” His muffled voice knocks you out of your pleasured trance, and you hum in acknowledgement. He’s resting his face between your breasts rather lovingly now, kissing the skin between them with a hand on your waist. The hand tangled in his hair falls to his nape, scratching at the baby hairs grown out from his last haircut.

“I wouldn’t encourage you to.”

“Couldn’t be the worst fate.”

His response has you rolling your eyes, “No, a worse fate would be me beating you to a pulp because you thought you’d win in a wrestling match against me.” He chuckles, looking up at you and resting his chin on your chest with a soft pout.

“Seemed to like my approach a second ago,” he murmurs, crawling back up your body to kiss you again. There’s no underlying motive behind it, he just really likes your lips on his. You give in because, despite your argumentative nature, you like his lips too. He kisses you lazily, knee slotted between your legs, half-heartedly holding his body up to stop himself from leaning all of his weight on you. Your arms drape naturally over his shoulders and around his neck to keep him there, and you can feel his smile against your lips.

“You still hard?” His only response is the subtle grind of his hips against yours in affirmation and a slight lowering of his hand on your waist, on a slow but steady mission.

“Should I be offended that you don’t seem to be doing anything about it?”

“Gettin’ to it, jus’ let me kiss you.” He licks into your mouth sweetly, chasing the taste of you. Tries to pull you impossibly closer when you chuckle, spurring him on even more. He bites your lower lip, his wandering hand finally slipping past the waistband of your pyjama pants and brushing over your underwear. You can feel him smirk when he finds the small bow on the front, parting from your lips to slip your pants down to get a good look at them. They’re childish, pink and polka dotted and old; you’ve had them since before you and Jungkook even started dating but hardly wear them anymore.

“Cute.” Is all he says, and you roll your eyes before reaching down to pull them off. He grabs your wrists, meeting your eyes sternly. “Keep ‘em on.”

You slip your hands from his grasp, nodding hesitantly but obediently. You watch him curiously when he focuses his entire attention on your clothed pussy, entranced by it, pressing his fingers against the damp fabric to watch it cling to the shape of you, darkening with your arousal.

“Fuck, they’re so cute, baby,” he babbles, not really even speaking directly to you, just thinking out loud, “can I fuck you with them on?” He asks sweetly, kissing your chest and keeping an eye on you as he waits for your answer. You nod, combing your fingers through his hair when he peppers more kisses across your tits as a thank you. He pushes the fabric aside slightly to gain access to your pussy with no restrictions, not hesitating to sink his middle and index fingers past your opening. He knows you’re wet enough, preening when he hears your breaths turn to soft moans. He’s so familiar with your body now that curling his fingers up against your g-spot is second nature to him. You encourage him wordlessly, watching him work while his head still rests on your chest.

He knows you, so when you start to tighten around him and your moans turn into held breaths, he withdraws from you. You go to protest, furrowing your brow annoyedly, but he shushes you.

“Gonna have you come on my dick, baby.” There’s a brief pause while he separates from you to push his boxers down and take your pyjamas bottoms fully off too, grunting when he strokes himself languidly above you before rubbing his tip between your dripping folds, still fascinated by the panties he made you keep on.

“So pretty,” he coos, and for lack of better judgement, you nod. “So fuckin’ wet, love when you get like this for me. All for me.” He’s egging you on, coating himself in your arousal and pressing his forehead to yours when he sinks the mushroom tip of his cock past your opening. It’s calculated and slow, you think it’s to tease you, to prolong your frustration even longer; truthfully, it’s because Jungkook is embarrassingly close and wants to make himself last as long as he can.

“You wore these the first time I fucked you,” he admits, sinking deeper into your walls and breathing against your lips, “all I could think about for the rest of that week was getting to fuck you again, you were so perfect.” He pulls out slowly, before pushing back in, deeper this time. You let out a half-moan, half-breath, and he repeats until he’s fully seated inside of you.

“Wanted to fuck you with them on then, too, thought they were so cute.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Thought it was pervy, thinking your panties were cute and wanting to keep them on,” he chuckles, kissing you gently and quickening the pace of his hips to fuck you faster, “think you would’ve thought I was a creep, wouldn’t have let me. Was easier to make you think I just wanted to take my time undressing you.”

“You’re right, I wouldn’t have.”

“Mm, you’re well trained now.”

His words get him a slap at the back of his head, and he laughs with you. The amusement doesn’t last long however, and soon he’s hiding his face in your shoulder to piston his cock in and out of you. You curse under your breath, letting him grip your thigh to guide your knee to your chest, wanting to fuck you deeper. He tuts, frustrated at the fact that he can’t get as deep as he wants, and soon your knees are over his shoulders with his hands holding your hips while he fucks you vigorously. He’s grunting animalistically, his tip prodding your cervix over and over, the corona of his cock rubbing deliciously against your g-spot every time he pulls back.

“Touch yourself.” He instructs from your shoulder. It’s gentle, you know he doesn’t mean to come across as commanding but you like it anyway. You’re quick to obey, of course, and soon you’re trailing a hand down to your own pussy to start rubbing at your clit. He wants you to finish, that much is apparent, and you assume it’s because he’s trying to hold off his own orgasm for you. It’s wordless between you when you feel the familiar band in your stomach begin to tighten, and your free hand wanders across his broad back, digging your fingernails into his shoulder blades in such a contrasting way to how you were so gentle only ten minutes ago. He grunts, knows you’re close because you’re clenching around him and he can feel you holding your breath. He kisses your collarbone as silent encouragement, and a few more strokes has you coming undone around him, finally releasing your breath and pulsing around him in a way that has you nearly pushing him out.

“Gonna come, where you want it?” He asks quietly, knows your answer but wants to hear it. You always want it inside, and Jungkook is always more than happy to oblige.

“On my panties.” Comes your surprising reply, and Jungkook’s pupils dilate to proportions you didn’t think were physically possible. He stops moving, dropping his grip on your hips to brace his hands against the sides of your head and hold himself up above you.

“I think I’m gonna throw up,” he jokes, dipping down to kiss you fervently, picking up the pace of his hips again, “you’re so fucking perfect, you want me to come all over your panties, baby? Want me to make a mess?”

You’re not stupid, you know as much as the next girl that if there’s anything a man likes more than coming inside, it’s staking his claim. Of course, semen washes off - but the thought of Jungkook painting your panties white even makes your stomach flip. You nod, and he doesn’t need any more persuasion before he pulls out of you and sits up in order to stroke himself, a singular goal in mind. Your panties are still tucked to the side so he can see all of you as his fist pumps his cock quickly. You observe him, his cock is still wet from your arousal and his tip is so swollen and red that you’re unsure how he lasted even this long. As expected, he doesn’t last very long, and soon thick white ropes of come are shooting from his tip and coating your pussy and the fabric of your panties. He’s shuddering, curling over on himself before collapsing beside you on the bed.

“C’mere,” he pants out, slipping his arms around your middle and pulling you toward him, “this was your plan all along, wasn’t it?”

“Really wasn’t, I was doting on you.”

“Feeling me up is ‘doting’ now?”

You push him away playfully, but he keeps his grip on you, laughing when you turn around to get away from him. He pulls you back towards him and spoons you.

“I was being cute and you made it pervy, like always.” He can hear the pout in your voice, so he mumbles something in agreement. Knows there’s no winning here when he just came all over your panties like some kind of neanderthal. He rubs his hand over your belly, kissing your shoulder blade affectionately to keep you close. Your own hands cover his, intertwining your fingers once again and snuggling sweetly into him.

a/n 🗒️ as always tysm for reading !!! if u have anything to say pls do i love to hear from ppl and reflecting on criticism is my driving force 💆‍♀️ reqs/asks are open !!!!

#koob navi #jungkook #jungkook hard hours #jungkook hard thoughts #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook soft thoughts #jungkook soft hours #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x yn #jungkook x reader #yn x jungkook #reader x jungkook #bts hard hours #bts hard thoughts #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction

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mingi-s-dimples · 5 months ago

Text

A Deal with The Devil - Hongjoong

"You wanted to rebel, didn’t you? “Is this what you call defiance? Letting yourself be fucked like a filthy little whore on your father’s desk?”

~"devil x pastor’s daughter" - ily sweetie ♡

pairing: devil!hongjoong x pastor's daughter fem!reader

genre: 18+, devil x pastor’s daugther, filth

summary: you wanted to make a deal with the devil.. and in exchange, get freedom of your father. but the devil got other plans.. which you utterly are a whore for.

wc: 5.1k

warnings: religious guilt/imagery, devil!hongjoong, rough dom!hongjoong, pastor's daughter, multiple orgasms (a lot), fingering, eating out, deal with the devil, lots of cum, sex against a wall, sex on a desk, marking, choking, neck holding, taunting, teasing, enemies to lovers typa shit, degradation, dirty talk, breath play, denial, oral fixation, orgasm control, orgasm denial, size kink, completely consensual!, unprotected (boo use protection irl!!), for sure forgot something, might edit later.

Author's Note: hey pooks I hope you'll enjoy this 👉🏻👈🏻 haven't added too many devilish elements cause he's in a human form in my eyes...besides his huge cock ofc and glistening eyes. ily

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the member in any way.

You’ve always been told that the devil comes in disguise, that he cloaks himself in beauty and charm, whispering seductive lies into the ears of the desperate. He’s the reason for your sins, the voice of temptation that haunts your dreams.

But when you finally come face to face with him, there’s no disguise.

Hongjoong is a living embodiment of sin, draped over a throne carved from darkness and desire, his presence dominating the space around him. He sits back, legs spread wide, his black shirt casually unbuttoned just enough to reveal the ink snaking over his collarbone, glistening like promises of debauchery. His silver rings catch the dim light, a promise of danger glimmering in the shadows of the room.

His eyes—deep, endless pools of darkness—glistening red, lock onto yours, sharp and predatory. The very air around him crackles with an intensity that threatens to consume you whole, yet you stand firm, your defiance a flickering flame against the encroaching darkness.

“I came to make a deal,” you state, voice steady, even as your heart pounds a frantic rhythm against your ribs.

His lips curl into a smirk, a flash of amusement cutting through the tension. “Did you, now?”

“I don’t repeat myself.”

He chuckles, a low, throaty sound that resonates deep within you. “Feisty.” He leans forward, his gaze piercing through you like a dagger. “I expected someone like you to come crawling eventually.”

You straighten, forcing your chin up, refusing to be intimidated. “I don’t crawl for anyone.”

His amusement deepens, a dangerous glint igniting in his eyes. “No? Not even for me?”

And before you can respond, he’s there—standing inches away, the heat of him seeping into your skin. His fingers wrap around your jaw, gripping you with a power that sends shivers of both fear and exhilaration down your spine.

“You don’t crawl,” he echoes, his voice a velvet rasp that wraps around your throat, holding you captive. “Not yet.”

You refuse to break eye contact, though your breath hitches as he leans in, his lips hovering tantalizingly close. “But you will.”

His thumb strokes over your bottom lip, dragging it down slightly, teasing, as if testing your resolve. “Do you know what you’re asking for?”

You swallow hard, defiance bubbling beneath the surface. “I’m asking for everything.”

He smirks, the corners of his mouth curling like he’s just been handed a delicious secret. “You think you can handle it?”

“Maybe I want to get burned.”

The intensity in his eyes shifts, darkening with something primal. “Oh, sweetheart,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear, “you have no idea what kind of fire you’re playing with.”

His grip tightens, fingers digging into your skin, pulling you closer. “I’ll give you everything,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your neck. “Every wicked thing you’ve ever dreamed of. Every filthy pleasure that’s crossed your mind.”

His lips ghost over your skin, igniting flames along your neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. “But you need to understand something.” His voice drops to a sultry growl, each word a dark promise. “When you’re mine, you surrender completely.”

You shiver at the thrill of his words, feeling the weight of his gaze like a physical touch. “You think you can break me?” you challenge, your voice steady, even as your body responds to him with an eagerness you can’t ignore.

“Oh, darling,” he chuckles, the sound low and dangerous, sending heat pooling in your belly. “I don’t need to break you.”

His hands slide down your arms, tracing every curve, exploring the terrain of your body as if memorizing every inch. “I just need to make you beg.”

His grip on your waist becomes possessive, fingers sinking into your flesh, and you gasp, the sound escaping your lips unbidden. “You think you can make me beg?”

“Don’t test me.” His voice drops to a husky whisper, his lips barely brushing against yours, the tantalizing promise of what’s to come lingering in the air between you. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

His lips crash against yours, hungry and fierce, a collision of heat and urgency. It’s raw, consuming, and the moment his mouth claims yours, you feel yourself melting against him, desire surging through your veins like fire.

You respond with a hunger of your own, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, as if you can somehow bridge the gap between the fiery need coursing through you and the cool darkness that surrounds him. He groans into your mouth, a deep, primal sound that reverberates through your body, igniting every nerve ending until all you can think about is him.

He pulls away, a cruel smile dancing on his lips, breathless and wild. “You see? Your body is already begging.”

“Fuck you,” you retort, but the challenge falls flat when you feel the heat pooling in your core, an insatiable hunger that demands to be fed.

“Oh, you will,” he says, voice dripping with lust and malice, “but not before I have my fun.”

He shoves you back against the wall, pinning you there with his body, the weight of him a delicious pressure that sends shivers coursing through you. His lips graze over your throat, teasingly, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as he whispers dark promises against your skin.

“Every wicked thought you’ve ever had, every sinful desire lurking in the corners of your mind?” His breath is hot against your ear, and you can’t suppress the moan that escapes your lips. “I’ll make them all come true.”

His hands explore your body, rough and demanding, tracing the curves that drive him wild. You arch into his touch, desperate for more, every instinct urging you to surrender completely to the devil before you.

“You want me,” he growls, his fingers digging into your hips, forcing you to feel every bit of his hunger. “You want everything I have to offer. Don’t pretend otherwise.”

“I want more,” you whisper, your voice trembling with desire, your heart racing as you lean into him. “Show me what you can do.”

His eyes flash with satisfaction, and in that moment, you know you’ve crossed a line you can never return from. You’re tangled in the web of his dark allure, willing to embrace whatever sin he offers.

“Then let’s see how far you’re willing to fall,” he murmurs, his lips curling into a wicked grin as he pulls you deeper into the abyss.

And you realize, with chilling clarity, that you’re ready to surrender everything.

Hongjoong's lips barely leave your skin, his mouth trailing hot kisses down your neck, but even as his fingers work their magic, you refuse to be reduced to a quivering mess beneath him. Every touch ignites a fire deep within you, but you cling to your defiance like a lifeline.

“You think you can break me?” you challenge breathlessly, even as your body arches into his every touch, desperate for more.

He chuckles darkly against your skin, the sound reverberating through you like a spell. “Oh, darling, I don’t need to break you.” He grips your jaw with one hand, tilting your face up to meet his gaze, the intensity of his stare making you shiver. His fingers slide under your skirt, teasingly slow as he drags them along your thighs, brushing the fabric of your panties. The heat pooling in your belly is undeniable, but you bite back a moan, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you lose control.

“Fuck you,” you hiss, though the heat in your voice betrays you, and he laughs, the sound low and teasing.

“Oh, I plan to,” he murmurs, a wicked glint in his eyes.

Before you can protest, he slips a finger beneath the fabric, teasing you with a slow, deliberate touch, his eyes locked onto yours as he watches you squirm. You feel the heat rise in your cheeks, the humiliation and desire clashing within you.

“You’re just a spoiled little pastor’s daughter,” he taunts, the edge of his voice dripping with condescension. “What do you know of real pleasure?”

“I know enough,” you snap, forcing your voice steady even as he pushes a second finger inside you, stretching you, making you gasp. “I know you’re nothing but a—”

His grip tightens, fingers wrapping around your throat, cutting off your words as he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “What was that? You were saying?”

The pressure of his grip sends a rush of heat coursing through you, a thrill mixed with fear and desire. You look into his eyes, defiance still burning, and manage a breathy, “You think you can intimidate me?”

His lips curl into a smirk, but there’s no amusement in his gaze—only hunger. “Oh, I don’t need to intimidate you. You’re already so captivated…”

With a swift motion, he pulls his hand away, leaving you gasping, aching for his touch. The sudden absence sends a wave of frustration crashing over you. “What the hell?”

He leans back, watching you with amusement, as if savoring the moment. “Did you think it would be that easy?”

You glare at him, fury and desire battling for dominance within you. “I didn’t come here to play games, Hongjoong.”

“Yet here we are.” His fingers trail over your bare skin, igniting every nerve ending as he watches you squirm under his gaze. “You came to make a deal… and you think you can just waltz in here and demand what you want?”

“I came to take control,” you retort, the fire in your belly urging you to push back even harder. “I’m not afraid of you.”

He steps closer, his presence overwhelming, and you can feel the heat radiating off him. “You should be.”

In an instant, he closes the distance, his grip tightening around your throat once more, not enough to hurt, but enough to make you gasp. “Tell me, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours, teasing. “Is this what you wanted? To feel me choke you until you can’t breathe?”

A thrill races through you, and against your better judgment, you reply, “Yes.”

His eyes darken, and he leans in closer, his mouth ghosting over your lips. “You think you’re so tough, but I see right through you. You want me to own you.”

“I w-won’t let you,” you spit back, but the words come out as more of a plea than a declaration.

“Then let’s see how far you can go before you break,” he challenges, his lips curling into a predatory grin. “Because I have every intention of claiming you.”

With that, he crashes his mouth against yours, a fierce, possessive kiss that leaves you breathless. You respond instinctively, your body craving the heat and intensity of him. He deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours, and you can feel the way he pulls you in, demanding your submission even as you fight against it.

His fingers slide back down your body, exploring, teasing, and you can’t help but moan into his mouth. “You think I’m just going to give in?”

He pulls back slightly, eyes glinting with amusement. “You already are. You just don’t know it yet.”

He pushes you back against the wall even more, pinning you with his body, the weight of him pressing you into the hard surface. His hand slides beneath your skirt again, and you feel the cool air against your skin as he tears away your remaining barriers. “Let’s take this to the next level, shall we?”

“Stop it!” you hiss, but the fire in your voice is a thin veil over your desperation. You wanted him so fucking bad.

“Make me,” he challenges, and with that, he plunges two fingers deep inside you, and you can’t help but gasp, your body responding against your will.

“Fuck!” you curse, and he chuckles, the sound low and triumphant.

He drives his fingers deeper, and you feel yourself spiraling, pleasure washing over you in waves. Each thrust, each curl of his fingers ignites a fire within you, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Admit it,” he breathes against your ear, his voice a sultry whisper that makes your heart race. “You love this. You love being my little plaything.”

“No,” you manage to say, even as your body betrays you, begging for more. “I hate you!”

“Lies…,” he growls, his fingers moving faster, rougher, and the pressure builds, your body teetering on the brink. “You’re mine, whether you want to admit it or not.”

He captures your lips again, his kiss fierce and demanding, and as he deepens his fingers, you feel the world around you dissolve. You’re lost in him, in the heat and the darkness, and with every thrust of his fingers, every possessive grip, you know you’re falling deeper into his embrace.

“I’m not afraid of you,” you whisper between kisses, but the defiance in your voice is faltering, the fire in your belly igniting as you feel the climax build.

“You should be,” he murmurs, voice low and tantalizing. “Because I’m going to make you beg for more.”

And with that, he pushes you over the edge, your world exploding in a haze of pleasure and surrender, and as you cry out his name, you know you’ve finally succumbed to the devil who has claimed you body and soul.

The air is thick with tension as Hongjoong pulls you closer, his eyes dark and filled with an insatiable hunger. The moment you catch your breath, he sweeps you off your feet and pushes you around, pressing your back against the wall. Your heart races with a mix of anticipation and defiance, the thrill of the forbidden sending a shiver down your spine.

“Still think you can control this?” he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear.

“Maybe,” you reply, fighting to keep your voice steady despite the urgency pulsing through you.

Without warning, he lifts one of your legs and drapes it over his shoulder, positioning you exactly how he wants you. The sudden shift catches you off guard, and a rush of heat floods your cheeks as you look down at him, your breath hitching.

“You don’t get to decide that anymore,” he growls, his voice low and sultry. “You’re mine now.”

Before you can respond, he dives in, his mouth finding you with a hunger that makes your head spin. He latches onto you without warning, and a gasp escapes your lips as his tongue glides over your clit. Pleasure bursts through you like wildfire, and you instinctively grip his hair, pulling him closer as he devours you.

“Hongjoong!” you cry out, your body arching against him, desperate for more.

He chuckles against you, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through your core. “That’s it, sweetheart. Let me hear you.”

He works you over with precision, his tongue dancing and teasing, swirling and flicking in a way that has your knees threatening to buckle. Your mind races, caught in the chaos of pleasure and defiance. “You think this is going to make me submit?” you challenge breathlessly, even as your body betrays you, clenching around nothing as he pushes you higher.

“Just admit you love it,” he replies, his voice muffled as he continues his relentless assault. “Admit you crave it.”

You shake your head, refusing to give him the satisfaction, even as the heat builds inside you, every nerve ending alive and begging for release. “I won’t give in that easily!”

“Is that so?” He pauses for a brief moment, pulling back just enough to look up at you, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Hm, then I guess I’ll have to work harder.”

With that, he resumes, his mouth finding you with a fervor that makes your heart race. He pushes your leg higher, deepening his access, and you can feel the pressure building within you, the coil tightening as he drinks you in. The raw intensity of it all is overwhelming, and you can’t help but moan, the sounds escaping you unbidden.

“You’re so fucking wet for me,” he growls, the words dripping with satisfaction as he plunges his tongue deeper, teasing and swirling, every flick sending shocks of pleasure coursing through you.

“Damn it, Hongjoong!” you whimper, fighting against the overwhelming sensations, but he just laughs, the sound dark and full of promise.

“Tell me you want this. Tell me you want me,” he urges, his eyes never leaving yours, filled with a feral need that sends a thrill through you.

“Never,” you retort defiantly, but the fire in your belly is reaching its peak, and your resolve begins to waver.

He chuckles again, the sound low and sultry, and the wicked gleam in his eyes only fuels your frustration.

He doubles his efforts, tongue swirling and teasing, fingers digging into your thighs as he holds you steady. You can feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter, a pressure building that threatens to overwhelm you.

“Just give in,” he murmurs, lips brushing against your skin, sending shivers racing through you. “Let go of your pride. You’ll find that this is where you truly belong.”

“Shut up,” you gasp, unable to hide the pleasure leaking into your voice as he pushes you closer to the edge. “You think you can just—”

But he cuts you off, plunging two fingers inside you alongside his mouth, his relentless rhythm pushing you past the point of no return. Your body responds instinctively, every muscle tightening as pleasure overwhelms you, and you can’t hold back the moan that escapes your lips.

“God, Hongjoong!” you cry, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you feel yourself teetering on the brink.

“Tell me you want me to make you come,” he demands, his eyes locked on yours, dark and demanding.

“Never!” you scream, defiance fighting against the overwhelming pleasure crashing over you.

But he just smirks, the fire in his eyes igniting further as he doubles down on his efforts. “Then I’ll just have to make you.”

He thrusts his fingers deeper, his devilish claws feeling incredibly pleasant, curling them just right, and the world around you fades away. The pressure builds, every nerve ending alight with need as you approach that sweet release.

“Fuck!” you gasp, the word tumbling from your lips as your body quakes beneath him, and in that moment, all your defiance crumbles.

“Admit it,” he breathes, his voice thick with satisfaction as he watches you unravel. “You want this. You want me.”

“Fine!” you shout, the words spilling out before you can think. “I want it! I want you!”

With that, you feel the world explode, pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave as you cry out his name, surrendering completely to the devil who has ensnared your heart.

As the waves of pleasure recede, Hongjoong wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, a wicked smirk dancing on his lips. The look in his eyes is predatory, dark, and intoxicating. He grips your waist, lifting you off the ground, and suddenly, you’re pinned against the wall. Your heart races as your legs instinctively wrap around his waist.

“Think you can control me?” he murmurs, his voice low and sultry, sending shivers down your spine.

Without waiting for a response, he thrusts into you hard, filling you completely. His cock was huge… barely fitting in. The sensation takes your breath away, and you gasp, your body instinctively arching towards him as he holds you firmly against the wall. Each thrust is hard and deliberate, pushing you to the edge, igniting a fire within you that you can’t deny.

The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the air as he drives deeper. He leans in, his breath hot against your ear, whispering taunts that send thrill after thrill coursing through you. The pressure builds, your body responding eagerly to his every movement.

You can feel the tension coiling tighter with every thrust, and despite your attempts to maintain your defiance, you find yourself gasping for breath. The heat pooling in your belly is unbearable. “I hate you,” you manage to say, but even you can hear the yearning in your voice.

He only chuckles, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. He lifts you higher against the wall, positioning you to his liking, and thrusts harder, each movement precise and unrelenting. The overwhelming pleasure threatens to consume you, but he holds you in place, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

As he pushes you to the brink, he grips your throat, tightening just enough to make your head spin. The world tilts on its axis, and you feel your body betraying you, craving his touch more than anything. He bites down on your shoulder, leaving a mark that burns and seals your fate as his.

The pressure inside you builds and builds, and your mind spins as you teeter on the edge of release. With each thrust, you can feel yourself breaking apart, the heat overwhelming. Your nails dig into his shoulders as you cling to him, desperate for stability.

“Just let go,” he growls, the primal hunger in his voice sending shivers down your spine. The tension reaches a peak, and in one powerful thrust, you feel the world explode around you. Pleasure crashes over you like a tidal wave, leaving you gasping his name, surrendering completely to the devil who has ensnared your heart.

He rides you through your climax, thrusting relentlessly as your body trembles around him. The waves of ecstasy wash over you, drowning out everything else. With each movement, he holds you tightly, claiming you as his, marking you for all to see.

You’ve entered a dangerous game, and deep down, you know you’re addicted to the thrill, the heat, and the devil himself.

As you slowly come back to reality, breathless and dizzy from pleasure, Hongjoong's smirk only deepens. He grips your waist, his eyes dark with satisfaction. “Is this how you rebel against your father?” he growls, moving you into the neatly tidied desk of your father's, only to throw everything in sight on the floor, thrusting deeper into you. “By making a deal with the devil and fucking hard on his cock?”

You gasp at his words, feeling the heat wash over you again as he drives into you relentlessly. He tightens his grip around your throat, choking you just enough to send a thrill through your body. “Answer me,” he demands, his voice low and commanding.

“Y-yes…!” you gasp, his words sending a thrill through you.

The room is filled with the sounds of your heavy breathing and the rhythmic thud of his body against yours as he thrusts into you relentlessly. The desk creaks beneath the two of you, the chaotic mess of scattered papers and pens a testament to the fervor of the moment. Hongjoong leans closer, his breath hot against your ear as he takes you completely.

“This is what you get for striking a deal with the devil himself,” he growls, his voice dripping with dark satisfaction. “You thought you could handle it, didn’t you? But look at you now, utterly at my mercy.”

His words send another thrill through you, the way he degrades you only fueling your desire. You meet his gaze, defiance still flickering in your eyes, but it’s drowned out by the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins.

“You wanted to rebel, didn’t you?” he continues, his thrusts unyielding. “Is this what you call defiance? Letting yourself be fucked like a filthy little whore on your father’s desk?”

You try to protest, but the words get caught in your throat, your body betraying you as you arch against him, craving more. His grip tightens on your hips, holding you in place as he drives into you harder, each thrust sending waves of ecstasy crashing over you.

“Admit it,” he demands, his voice rough and commanding. “You love being treated like this. You love the danger, the thrill of being taken by someone like me.”

You moan softly, the pleasure overwhelming, and despite your best efforts to stay defiant, the truth hangs heavy on your lips. “I… Ah, fuck-,” you manage to choke out, but even you can hear the weakness in your voice, the way your body responds to him with every thrust.

He chuckles darkly, the sound filled with amusement. “Mhm… you’re just a good little, innocent pastor’s daughter who wants to be a bad girl,” he taunts, thrusting even harder. “And now you’re mine. You’ll learn to embrace it.”

His words cut deep, igniting a fire within you that’s both thrilling and terrifying. You know you should feel shame, but all you feel is desire, the way he dominates you feeding into something primal and raw.

With a final powerful thrust, he pushes you over the edge once more, and you cry out, the intensity of your release consuming you. Hongjoong doesn’t relent, continuing to thrust as you ride the waves of pleasure, your body quaking beneath him.

“See?” he breathes, watching you intently, a smirk playing on his lips. “This is what happens when you give in to temptation. You become a slave to your own desires.”

As you come down from your high, he holds you close, filling you completely, your bodies entwined in a tangled mess of passion and chaos. In that moment, you realize you’ve crossed a line you can never return from. The thrill of being his—the devil’s possession—consumes you, and deep down, a part of you knows you’ll never want to escape.

“You’ll crave this again,” he murmurs, brushing his lips against your ear. “You’ll come back for more, just like the good little sinner you are.”

And with that, he begins to thrust again, igniting the fire within you once more, proving that once you make a deal with the devil, there’s no turning back.

With each powerful thrust, Hongjoong ignites a fire deep within you, your body responding eagerly as he drives you closer to the edge again. The pleasure builds quickly, and before you can catch your breath, he shifts his angle, hitting that perfect spot that sends shockwaves through your entire body.

“Look at you,” he growls, his voice low and teasing as he watches your reaction. “So filthy, so eager for my cock. You want to come again, don’t you? You want to let go and give in completely.”

You can barely manage a response, your breath coming in quick gasps as the pressure within you swells to an unbearable level. “Yes,” you whimper, the desperation in your voice only fueling his dominance.

“Good girl,” he praises, thrusting harder, his movements relentless as he pushes you further. “Let it out. Show me how much you want it.”

In that moment, the tension inside you snaps, but it’s not just an orgasm; it’s something more powerful. The wave of pleasure crashes over you as you squirt, soaking him and the desk beneath you. Your body trembles uncontrollably, caught in the throes of ecstasy, as you experience a high unlike anything you've ever felt.

“Look at you,” he breathes, watching the scene unfold with dark satisfaction. “Squirting all over me. You’re such a dirty little slut, aren’t you?” His words drip with both praise and degradation, sending you spiraling even further into the depths of pleasure.

You can barely comprehend the intensity of the moment, overwhelmed by the pleasure coursing through you. The sound of your release fills the room, and all you can do is cling to him, your body shaking as he continues to thrust, riding out the waves of your pleasure.

“Such a good little sinner,” he murmurs, his voice a mix of hunger and satisfaction. “You’re completely mine now, and you love every second of it.”

As your body trembles beneath him, he doesn’t let up, continuing to drive into you with fervor, ensuring that you feel every last bit of pleasure. The connection between you is electric, and in that moment, you know there’s no turning back from the thrill of what you’ve become—a willing prisoner to the devil’s desires.

As the waves of pleasure finally recede, Hongjoong pulls back, his breath heavy and uneven. He gazes down at you, a smirk playing on his lips as he takes in the sight of your flushed face, the evidence of your shared passion still glistening on your skin. You can feel the heat radiating between you, a tangible reminder of the intensity that just unfolded.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, fingers brushing lightly over your still trembling body. “All wrecked and vulnerable. You really enjoyed that, didn’t you?” His tone is both playful and predatory, making it clear that he relishes in your surrender.

You try to catch your breath, your heart racing, but his presence looms large, overwhelming. “I... hate you,” you manage to say, though the words come out breathless and weak, the defiance in your voice barely a whisper.

Hongjoong chuckles, clearly enjoying your attempt to maintain some semblance of bravado. “Oh, sweetheart, we both know that’s a lie,” he replies, his fingers dancing across your skin, teasing and taunting. “You love this just as much as I do. You crave it.”

As he pulls you closer, you can feel the warmth of his body against yours, a stark contrast to the coolness of the desk beneath you. His grip is firm but gentle as he runs his hands down your sides, reminding you of the way he claimed you just moments ago.

“Let’s not pretend,” he says, his voice a mix of roughness and gentleness. “You’re not just some innocent girl anymore. You’ve crossed a line, and I can’t help but enjoy the way you’re falling apart for me.”

He leans down, pressing a soft kiss against your forehead, the gesture surprisingly tender after the intensity of your earlier encounter. “But don’t think I’ll go easy on you,” he adds, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “You’re mine now, and I’ll make sure you remember that.”

As he pulls back slightly, his eyes lock onto yours, a wicked gleam dancing in their depths. “You’ll want more, won’t you? More of this, more of me,” he says, a playful challenge lacing his words.

You feel the heat rising in your cheeks, a mixture of embarrassment and undeniable desire. “Maybe,” you reply, trying to keep your tone defiant, but the tremor in your voice gives you away.

“Good,” he replies, his smirk widening as he leans in closer, the distance between you shrinking once more. “Because I have plans for you. This is just the beginning.”

He presses another kiss to your lips, rough and teasing, igniting the fire within you all over again. It’s a reminder that even after the chaos, he’s still the devil you’ve recklessly given yourself to—a thrilling danger that you can’t resist.

NETWORKS:

@blossomnet

@illusionnet

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@mingleshine @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117 @cypher-03 @peachy-bell26 @atiny1 @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @atzlordz @chai0tea @miyaluvvsyou

#ateez fanfic #mingi s dimples masterlist #illusionnet #blossomnet #ateez x reader #ateez fic #ateez x y/n #fanfic #ateez #smut fic #ateez smut #smut #devil au #hongjoong dom #hongjoong smut #ateez hongjoong #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong

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the-kr8tor · 1 month ago

Text

Ekko's Birthday

Pairing: Ekko x fem! Reader

Word count: 2.8k

Synopsis: You decide to surprise Ekko for his birthday.

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, reader has nicknames, reader has unnamed family members, noxian! Reader, established relationship, set in my series ink and bedrock, s2 spoilers, cw food mentions, one suggestive joke, lovestruck! Ekko, fluff!

A/N: this is a few days late but happy birthday to the boy saviour! 🎂🎉 Special thanks to @pleaktale

Ekko Masterlist

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“Ekko.”

He stirs in his sleep, feeling a warm palm gently tracing his jawline. The touch is as light as a feather, pinky running along his skin like summer raindrops raining down upon him.

“Ekko, come on, firefly, wake up.” Your voice whispers in his ear, breath fanning along his cheek. “Please? This is the only time today that I’ll have you all to myself. Ekko.” You say with a lilt, singing his name like it's a ballad.

Turning towards you, bed dipping down slightly, he nudges his way onto your lap, head resting comfortably atop your thighs and face flushed against your stomach as if he's attuned to your warmth. He feels your hand carefully move away strands of his platinum twists, then you slither towards his scruff, kneading along the back of his head. He could get used to this, perhaps he already has when you keep spoiling him rotten. He always wakes up to your soft voice and even softer touch, to him that's paradise.

Humming against you, face pressed into the plush of your stomach, he wraps an arm around you, clinging onto you in his half asleep state.

“How long have you been awake?” He tiredly asks, fighting a yawn.

“A while.” Chuckling, you place an affectionate kiss right atop his temple even though you might get a knot on the small of your back from the twisted position. “Did you forget what day it is today?”

Ekko inhales the morning air, body clock telling him that you let him oversleep. The fact that he could even afford to sleep more when no explosions wrack him awake, or alarms in his head that are constantly going off— It's pure bliss for him. He can do that now, rest, now that the undercity is doing a lot better than three years ago. Even the air smells crisp and fresher, unlike before when he would take a deep inhale, he gets a lung full of smoke and gunpowder. Zaun and its people are better, there’s still a lot more work to be done, but it’s beginning to look and feel like the Zaun he saw once upon a lifetime ago.

And then there’s you, patient and kind towards his people. You who have made a name for yourself with just your pen and gentle words. Even managed to change the two cities for the better with your work. In their eyes, you're no longer the volatile Noxian they thought you were. You could still be explosive, yes, but you never act without thinking twice, without thinking how it would impact the people around you, and your new found home. You've managed to slink your way into his stone clad heart, chiseled your way inside, and he let you stay there, made a home for yourself in there, painted the walls for you, made furniture for you to rest on— and he wouldn't have it any other way.

All those years of surviving is worth it to see the day that he could just… live.

“Is it…” Ekko croaks out, throat heavy with sleep as he bunches your blouse in his grip. “...Is it soup day in the canteen?”

“Soup day?” Leaning down and giggling, you kiss every inch of the side of his face, making sure that there’s no skin left unkissed. “No,” you tamp down your bout of giggles as you kiss the corner of his sleep ridden eye. “Even better.”

Ekko cracks one eye open, honeyed brown eyes staring half lidded at you. It’s as if the prospect of the day not being about soup intrigued him. “I give up, what day is it?”

Your fond smile slowly stretches into a grin. “It's your birthday.”

He's taken aback, leaning slightly away from you as his eyes narrow suspiciously. “How'd you know that?”

You clearly find him adorable when you nudge your nose atop his own. “I asked…around.”

“Scar told you, didn't he?”

“Maybeee.” Your giggles waft over him.

“And you bribed him for it?” His eyes shine with amusement whilst you try to act innocent by rubbing off the crust gathered in the corner of his eye.

“He may or may not have a whole box of cookies all to himself.” You beam down at Ekko, hand kneading at his skin fondly, trying to flatten the knots in his tired muscles. He looks at you so sweetly that it could rival any type of sweets you made as a bargaining chip. “Happy birthday, Ekko.”

For the first time in a long time, he really thinks that the occasion is a happy one. And not something he feels guilty from, guilty that he got to live and they didn't, guilty that he's older than them now. The reason isn't solely because of you and your love for him, but it’s because the world around him feels brighter now, lighter, that it doesn't weigh over his shoulder like a boulder. His firelights are happier, some even deciding to settle down because of how better the world has become for them, something that they only dreamed of that they can now give their children— A future, Ekko looks forward to the future rather than trying to escape from it, delay it and sometimes even fear it. Now he looks forward to it, wanting to see what his city would look like, desiring to see where you and him would be in the future. The mystery of it all excites him rather than something to be feared. It's no longer bleak in his warm eyes. All he knows is that waking up to you every morning is guaranteed in the future. And he can't wait for the rest.

“Thank you,” hand reaching up to cup your cheek, he tugs you down for a quick yet loving kiss. “Does this mean I get something?”

Scrunching your nose, you pretend to think. “Hm, you tell me.”

Ekko knows you enough that this is one of your teasing games. He decides to play along, but this time, he doesn't flirt back to get you flustered enough that you soon admit defeat, no, he’ll play his cards right, and in his hand is the birthday card that he knows you'll fall for immediately.

“But it’s my birthday...” His tone turns small, broken, as if you punched his precious hoverboard and threw it into the river. To add salt to your wound, Ekko frowns, eyes downturned.

“Ekko…” you coo, mirroring his frown, but in your case, it’s real. “I do have something for you.” You say the words like you're trying to placate him by giving him a consolation prize. “I'm sorry, I did prepare something for you.” Kissing his cheek, you feel his growing grin under your puckered lips. As you move away, he smiles victoriously. “You little shit!”

“You can't call me that, it's my birthday.”

“Birthday or not, you still played me.” Poking his chest, he chuckles and grabs your finger before taking your palm in his and sewing his hand around your own lovingly. “You’re trying to be sweet on me.” It’s your turn to look at him suspiciously.

“Is it working?” Bringing the intertwined hands to his lips, he kisses your knuckles, pecking gently whilst he gazes at you through half lidded eyes.

You know that he's always been a charmer, under the leader side he always shows, and the almost permanent frown on his lips, his sweetness goes beyond anyone you could compare it to. Not even you managed to fight it whenever he gives you his best smile or when he touches the small of your back whenever he passes by you with his firelights, leaving you frozen in place even if it's such a simple action. But it's enough to have you, a tough Noxian, to melt into a puddle.

Shaking your head, you tug at the hem of his shirt. “Don’t test me, Ekko.” Despite your words, the way you gaze at him defeats the purpose of your so-called threat.

“So it's working then?” He raises a brow, palm splayed on the small of your back, thumb drawing circles around where your shirt lifted up slightly.

“Do you want your present or not?”

“I don't see a box anywhere, red, are you the present?” His lips curl into a knowing smirk, eyes glinting with mirth.

Biting your lip with a tamped down flustered chuckle, you pinch his side lightly. “Maybe for later, but for now…” taking the box you've hidden beneath the bed, you finally show it to him with hidden shyness. “For you, firefly.”

Ekko sits up, his hand never leaving the expanse of your skin as he eyes the neatly wrapped gift. The box is in deep forest green, all wrapped together with a crimson ribbon. The symbolism isn't lost to him, it makes his heart sing for a moment.

“Shit, I was just joking, you know?” He only reaches for the gift, and it takes for you to place it in his hand rather than wait for him to take it. The box is small, it fits right in his palm perfectly.

“It's your birthday, of course I got you something.”

“You shouldn't have, you being here is enough.”

Grinning, the warmth from your smile is enough to rival the morning sun. “Well you should've told me that before I went out of my way to get you that.” Joking, you tap the gift nervously as he chuckles. “Please open it before I burst a vein.”

“Can I guess?” He delays the moment so that he could savour your rare bout of bashfulness.

“It’s not food.”

“I wasn't going to guess that.” As he gently unties the ribbon, you watch with a wobbly grin.

“Yes, you were.” Your words fade out as he unboxes the gift, revealing the present you've been preparing for weeks.

His eyes blink at the metal work, it's a clockface intended for his stop watch. The circular metal is laid upon a piece of silky cloth, and its intricate etching of a map of Zaun faces him. He's too afraid to touch it, as if it'll crumble in his hand.

“Shit, you don't like it.” You take his silence as something negative. “I knew I should've gotten you a—” His lips silences you, kissing along the curve of your mouth, nose nudging together, and a hand cupping your chin.

His lips part just a smidge, and you take his invitation, kissing deeper and deeper until you're tugged atop his lap, head tilted so he could kiss you properly. If not for your need for air, you'd kiss him for hours.

As you reluctantly pull away, you look into his brown eyes, and briefly glance down at his kiss bitten lips. “I don't think you got your point across, Ekko. Tell me more about how much you like it.”

Chuckling, he runs his thumb across your lips to wipe away the sheen left by him. “I could, but maybe later.” Teasing to keep you on your toes, you roll your eyes and drop your head atop his shoulder like you're disappointed so you could hide your obvious giddyness. “Stop being a baby, I love your gift.”

“I know.” You peck the side of his neck briefly before returning to face him. “But that's just half of it though.”

Ekko gazes at you through tender eyes that's slightly glazed over by a fog of deep affection for you. “There's more?”

“Mm-hmm, flip it over.”

He does what you've instructed him to do, with his free hand on the small of your back, keeping you in place and the other gingerly flipping the gift over, he sees a small yet intricate carving of a portrait of you and him smiling together. If that's not enough to have his heart squeezing in place, the small message above it would.

“‘I’m always just four seconds away from you, firefly.’” He reads, each word uttered fills his whole body with warmth. He's loved, he knows that, but not up to this degree. You revere him, love him through and through, and the thought of you being by his side— thinking of him, even when you're miles away from him, has tears almost falling from his eyes.

“It clips right on top of your watch, to protect it.” You whisper, hand resting on his nape. “I love you, happy birthday.”

Ekko falls right atop your chest, inhaling deeply, arms wrapped around you as his cheek presses on your clavicle. He utters the same three words with softness and with so much love that you could feel it through your skin and under your bones.

With your eyes closed, you start to sing him a Noxian birthday song in an unknown language to him. All the while you cradle him in place, gently swaying to your song. To you, the song fills you with comfort, it reminds you of peace back home and of your childhood.

To him, it reminds him of you. The hauntingly beautiful song will forever be etched in his mind as yours.

As you finish the quick song, you smile against his temple, and you feel him softly smile back.

“What was that?” Ekko asks, eyes shining as he peers through his lashes to gaze at you.

“A song from my country, my mother used to sing that to me and my brother during our birthdays.” You smile fondly at the memory. “It's basically just a happy birthday song.”

“It's beautiful.” He sighs out, thumb running across your cheek.

Smiling, your cheeks run warmer at his compliment. “And here I thought a big cake would be enough.” You mumble as he mindlessly runs his index across your clavicle, tracing small circles around your skin.

“You got me cake?” He asks, hand still grasping the watch cover as he smiles at the tiny portrait.

“Of course, what am I, an idiot?”

“Only sometimes.” He jokingly says as you snort.

“I'll let that slide since it's your birthday.” Leaning away, hands cupping his cheek, you gaze at his blissful face. “Do you want to put that on your watch now?” You gesture towards the gift that's safely tucked in his hand.

“Yeah,” nodding, you take his stopwatch from the bedside table. Ekko tinkers with them for a minute, until there's a metallic click as the present secures in place. The map of Zaun faces him, but when he opens the watch, it's you and him that greets him along with the ticking watch. “It's perfect.”

“Yeah?” You sigh in relief, and he nods again, this time with a grin. “That’s good.” Chuckling with unshed tears in your eyes, you peck his jaw. “There's more to this though.”

“I'm guessing that's the cake?”

“Yes, but you have to get dressed for it.”

His nose scrunches. “But that's the opposite of what you usually ask for?”

A loud guffaw echoes around the room. “Not always! You make me sound like I'm a fiend!” Ekko tilts his head and raises a brow. “...fine, I am but not today! Please, I promised them that you'll be down in a minute. And it's been…” you glance at the clock. “...More than a minute.”

“Who's them?”

—

“Surprise!”

The firelights and members of the commune yell out simultaneously the moment Ekko steps off his hoverboard. They throw colourful confetti at him, pieces of paper sticking to his hair as they smile happily at them.

He can't help but match their expressions.

“Happy birthday, boss.” Scar says, giving him a curt nod as he clasps his shoulder.

“Yeah, happy birthday, boss!” Scar’s kid echoes his father's words, trying to clasp him on his shoulder with his shorter arm while he's in his father's arms.

“Thank you.” Ekko's heart swells at the sight. There are streamers hanging above the string lights, it flutters with the wind and the fallen gingko leaves.

The crowd parts for him, and the sun shines on a long table spread out with tons of food, most of them are sweets, probably a courtesy of you. And there are benches all around it, waiting for him and the firelights.

Eyes shining under the sun, he looks for you behind him. He didn't know the day could get any better than this, but it has when you're carrying the biggest cake he has ever seen. He's more entranced by the one holding it though, but the cake is a bonus.

“Come on and make a wish.”

Stepping closer, hands holding on top of yours, the two of you hold the cake as a single lit candle is placed right in the middle of the fluffy light viridescent cake.

“I already have my wish right here.” He whispers only to you before blowing out his candle.

The round of applause and ecstatic cheers echo around the clearing. If he could turn back time further, he would tell his younger self that it's worth it, that one day all the fighting and surviving would be worth it. Just for this moment, his family are finally happy, and the air smells sweet but the smile on his love is even sweeter.

Support banner by @/cafekitsune

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destroyingangelzzz · 9 months ago

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Posting this at a very interaction unfriendly time, but I finished my design for @catmask and @frogcroaks monster mayhem contest!!! I never get around to actually completing entries for contests im interested in, so I couldn’t be happier!!

All that said, here’s The Sandwaste Harpy! I love her a lot and prooooobably should have linked this tumblr post for my submission cause I’m about to give even more design context and such, but. Oops. 😭 I was very excited and impatient. But yeah! More info below :]

So I almost immediately knew I wanted to draw a weird half-woman siren/harpy sort of design, as that is just my guilty pleasure and comfort zone. And I really needed a comfort zone cause I am so busy with school and my hand is HURTING. Back on track though, from there I wanted to make a creature that lures weary travelers to oasis to drown and eat them

These were some of my main inspirations, some got more attention than others. The sandfish was surprisingly my biggest inspiration though, despite how things turned out. I also took some inspiration from general reptilian and more specifically snake-like features. As well as taking the idea of upper and lower body coloring from sea creatures as a means to better camouflage with the light from above or darkness from below.

I was struggling with inspiration from there though, before I saw an unrelated monster design that leaned into the more monster woman design, with many heads at the front of it’s more monster parts chest. Which inspired me to design chicks and have them latch onto the plume, akin to how mother opossums look with all their babies. It made the design go from appealing to completely endearing to me in moments.

I imagine they are also similar to opossums in many ways involving caring for their young. One thing I note is how when an opossum mothers den is unsafe, she will leave her children and return at night/when it’s quiet and try to retrieve them when it’s safe. I’ve had that happen with an opossum mom who left around 12 of her babies in my garage in a soda can box and they were all so cute and I made sure they were left alone. BACK ON TOPIC THOUGH.

I did mess around with speckling in the design, but couldn’t find a way to convey that in a way I enjoyed, hopefully the sand coloring carries this on its own. She also originally had black hair but I accidentally made her blonde and realized how much i enjoyed that in her palette anyway and how it would better camouflage too.

Camouflage is not my favorite word to spell.

But yeah otherwise this piece also acted as a means to try out a new approach to line art. No pen pressure. I realized most artists who use defined line art I enjoy, do not use pen pressure and I often don’t enjoy the looks of high pen pressure inking in my own works so why. Was I using pen pressure. I don’t know. Anyway I love how this looks and it was so easy on my pained wrists so I will have to do more of this :]!!!

#art #digital art #monster design #artists on tumblr #creature design #monster mayhem

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thebestofoneshots · 1 year ago

Note

This isn’t really a request but this came to may head at three in the morning ok Imagine like your getting fucked by one of the Marauders or all of them and yk those moving pictures they have in the wizard world image they have a whole box filled of the reader getting back shots and EVERYTHING 😵‍💫🥴

THE STASH | marauders x reader

Pairing: J.P. x S.B. x R.L x Female Reader

Word Count: 5 k

Warnings: Smut, finger fucкing, a little bit of PTSD on Sirius, pictures taken w/o reader’s knowledge, reader being insecure and gaining back confidence thanks to the boys.

Prompt: You find the boy's stash, filled with lusty pictures and they make you feel insecure, thoughts about not being good enough for them arise, the catch is, that’s THE OLD stash. (Happy ending)

Notes: I had a similar idea already in my head so when I saw this ask I just knew I had to make it happen.

♡ NSFW: Smut under the cut

You knocked on their door a couple of times when no one said anything, you decided to let yourself in, “Rem? Jamie? Sirius?”

No answer.

You looked around and went to sit by Remus’ bed. He said he’d see you in their room later that night for study and maybe something more, but with study club and prefect duties, you assumed he was as busy as the two other boys were with the quidditch training. You didn’t mind it much though, their room was a lot more quiet to study in than yours, and it was always fun to see their surprised faces when they walked in and you were there.

You were taking your book and some parchment out when a pot of ink fell from your bag and onto the floor. There was a thud and then another one and then it spilled all over. You gasped and left the bag on the side before leaning down to pick it up. You whispered a quick “reparo,” and the crystal pot wasn’t leaking anymore, but the ink was still on the floor and some of it was spilling down the wooden floorboard.

“Fuck,” you whispered as you summoned a napkin from your bag and started to clean as best as you could, but it didn’t seem to be working, it was still spilling down into what looked like a nook on the floor. You frowned and looked at the wooden board in detail only to realize there was a section that was a little more worn than the rest.

You frowned and tried to lift the board by digging your nails on the side but it wasn’t working, you huffed and walked over to Sirius’ night table to see if he still had his pocket knife there. Luckily he did, and you took it, pulling out one of the blades and using it as a crane to lift the wooden board.

Once you did you realized the ink had slipped inside most of the things they kept in there. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whispered continuously as you tried to pull off the things in fear that they would be ruined with the ink. There were some old letters, some hand-rolled cigars, a few potions and then a small box, that one had gotten most of the ink. You winced and pulled it out, biting your lip as you tried to concentrate. You had been so busy with the cleaning, that you never saw the spiderwebs that covered most of the items.

“Evanesco,” you whispered, focused solely on the ink, which successfully disappeared, but so did the small lock they had on the box and it opened by itself. You blinked a couple of times when you saw what was inside. You carefully grabbed one of the images, a stunning red-headed witch, winking at you as she bounced around, with her very large, and very beautiful breasts in full display.

You gulped as you stared at her, she wiggled her shoulders a bit and gave you another wink. You sucked in a breath, she was freaking stunning. And probably there because of James’ fixation with redheads.

The rest of the pictures were turned over, but curiosity got the best of you, and you took another piece of paper from the box. That one was bent in four, as if it had been ripped from a magazine. You slowly unbend it, first one fold and then the other and there was another stunning witch in the image.

This one had smaller breasts, but she was leaning down on a bed, perfectly manicured hands brushing over her own folds, two perfectly long and well-shaped legs on the side. She had dark skin and the light reflected on her legs as she accommodated on the bed, her head leaning back with what looked like a sigh as she rolled her hand over her clit. She too was beautiful, and perfect.

You sat the image on the side, next to the redhead and pulled another one. One of the smaller ones, only to be met with yet another stunning witch, perfectly flat stomach, and beautiful perky breasts, she was riding a pillow, one hand on the bed and looking straight at you as she bit her lips, inviting, enticing. You placed her next to the others as you pulled another image. And then another, and then another.

Image after image, perfectly attractive witches in all sorts of positions, some by themselves, some with companions (either other hot witches or the cock of a wizard or two). You pressed your legs together, there was a mix of feelings inside you. First of all, you were a little turned on after seeing such kind of imagery. But second, and most important. You were a little upset.

Which was ridiculous, you knew. Expecting the boys to pleasure themselves with the thought of you in mind when you weren’t around was stupid, especially when there were clearly much better and hotter witches in the market. What with their perfectly round breasts and their beautiful lips and flat stomachs and long legs and rosy cunts. You looked at them with a bit of a frown, they all had something in common, they were perfect, and you? You were far, far from that.

Now you weren’t upset that the boys were doing themselves, you knew men needed a lot more release than women did and you tried to keep that in mind as you placed all the beautiful witches back in their box, but you couldn’t help but think: Did they also think of them when they were with you? Did they imagine the beautiful redhead’s breasts when they were kissing yours, or maybe that they were in between the legs of that girl with the gorgeous reflective skin instead of your own?

While the pictures were meant to be stimulating, and they had been a little at the beginning, the more you thought about them, the more you thought they were so much unlike you and the more your thoughts continued to spiral.

“Such beautiful witches…” you murmured as you closed the box, “and they are equally gorgeous men… why are they–“ You didn’t finish your words out loud, too painful to say them outside of your head.

Why are they with me?

You carefully placed the box back into its spot, cleaned the rest of the things that had gotten stained and placed everything back in their stash. You carefully placed the wooden plank back where it belonged and put Sirius’ knife back in his drawers. You took a deep breath, not feeling up for much and instead ripped a page from your notebook.

“I’m feeling a little sick, see you boys tomorrow.”

It was simple enough not to make them question further, you left it on top of Remus’ bed and left the room.

The following day, the boys being as marvelous and attentive as they were, had gotten you to forget about the stash almost completely. And things had been absolutely perfect since then.

At least until a few days later, you had been playing wizards chess with Sirius on his bed, and after he beat you for the third time making you feel both hopeless and a little dumb for not anticipating his moves –which was also ridiculous because Sirius had been a wizard chess champion– he offered to make it up to you.

It was in the spark in his eyes that you knew exactly what he meant. You bit your lip, Remus was reading a book on his bed while James was snoring lightly next to him, one hand draped across the other boy’s torso. You knew they’d want to join in when they realized what you and Sirius were up to, and it sent a shiver down your stomach.

“What do you say, doll?” Sirius asked as he levitated the chess board and the broken pieces to the side, inviting you to come closer.

You huffed “You think you can make it up with your little puppy eyes?”

Sirius pretended to think about it for a second before nodding. “While they should be enough, I’m still planning to use more than just my looks to make you feel better.”

You returned the smile and leaned closer to him, moving to straddle his sitting form, his back was pressed to the headboard and you could feel he was at least a little excited as you leaned into him.

“Did you win so many times just so you could say that to me?” You asked in disbelief, you were drumming your fingers near the nape of his neck.

“I might have been a little extra attentive,” he replied as he grabbed onto your hips and placed a kiss on your neck. “I know how riled up you get when you can’t best me,” he said before placing another kiss, this time further up, “I kind of enjoy seeing your little frown, and angry looks,” he admitted, he was now kissing your jaw. You rolled your hips into his and he tightened his grip on your hips in response.

You smiled, loving the fact that you knew exactly what Sirius liked and how to get him worked up, at least as much as he knew of you. You rolled your hips again and he reached his hand under your skirt, feeling the outside of your leg before flicking his hand to the inside of it. To the softer skin that he grabbed with firm tenderness. Itching his hand closer and closer, making sure to massage your skin, tauntingly.

You leaned your head onto his shoulder, letting his beautiful hair fall on your face as you rolled your hips again, a lot softer this time, matching his pace and wanting his hand to come closer.

“Eager, are we?” he teased.

“Shhh, you’ll wake up Jamie,” you said as you leaned over to kiss his neck. He bit his lip to hold back a moan and finally placed his hand over your panties, tracing a soft line over your slit. You bucked your hips against his hand and he chuckled lightly.

Remus, who had been focused on his book so far, frowned and looked up at the two of you, smirking a little when he noticed what you were up to. Of course, he knew that chuckle, it was Sirius’ sexy teasing laugh.

“Easy love or you’ll be the one to wake up Prongs,” he said, leaning his head to your ear and softly nibbling on it. He traced his hand over your slit a couple more times, and you bucked your hips again. He smiled, you didn’t see it, but you felt it against your skin, “All right, all right…” he said as he flicked his finger over the hem of your panties and moved them aside. You leaned even closer to him as he dug his fingers in, “All of this for me?” he teased as he felt how wet you were.

Remus, who was now only half looking at his book, had somewhat of a fun time as he listened in to your conversation with Sirius. He would be lying if he said he didn’t find it stimulating. But he also knew Sirius had had a bit of a bad week, so he thought of letting him have you just for himself, at least for a little bit longer, or until James woke up, just as eager to join in.

“Sirius please,” you whined with a frown and he smiled, letting his fingers trace up until they found your clit, making circles over it, which had you bucking your hips against him again. You bit the side of your cheek as you allowed him to move his hand, leaning in to kiss his neck again, to muffle any possible moans with his skin.

“May I?” he asked, teasing your entrance with his index.

“Mhm,” you said and bucked your hips again, eager for him to do his thing. And he complied, digging his finger inside and allowing it to move inside you as expertly as ever.

“So tight,” he whispered, Remus’ cock twitching at Sirius’ words and reconsidering whether he actually wanted to wait more before joining in.

He did not, so he carefully lifted James’ arm from his torso and walked towards Sirius’ bed. He sat right beside the two of you, a cocky smile on his face as he tilted his head to the side, “You two having fun there?” he asked, “without me?”

“You’re always welcome to join in Moony,” Sirius said with a teasing grin as he pulled you back just a little. You had both of your hands on Sirius’ shoulders, and you were now using them as leverage to ride his hand.

Moony smiled, “I might just watch for a while,” he said, leaning back and placing one of his hands on the back of Sirius’ neck. He knew how much small actions and touches like that made Sirius react, and he smiled as the boy’s breath hitched in his throat. He then turned to look at you, a mischievous grin on his face, he took his wand out and whispered “Evanesco.”

Suddenly both your shirt and bra disappeared, giving both boys the perfect sight of your breasts perking up at the sudden cold. Sirius grunted as he stared, and Remus hummed satisfied. You clenched around Sirius’ fingers –which were now two– whimpered and let out a soft moan.

But then, as you felt their gazes on you, and you felt your own boobs bouncing as you continued to ride Sirius’ expert fingers, you started to feel self-conscious, of how you looked, of how they were staring at you, on whether they were actually thinking of you or imagining something else, someone else. Maybe the beautiful redhead? The busty blonde? The reflextive-skinned goddess with the beautiful legs? The brunette with the beautiful ass?

Suddenly the lights flickered, and they were gone. You relaxed, Sirius felt the grip on his shoulder untensing, but he thought it was because you were close. But Sirius liked to see your fucked out face when he had his fingers inside you, and in seconds the lights were turned back on, and you tensed instantly.

The muscle movements were normal, but the way you suddenly dug your nails into his shoulders was not, at least not in the moment it was happening and not in the way it was either. Something was up.

He stopped moving his hand in an instant, “you all right, angel?” he asked, a small wrinkle forming on his forehead as his brows furrowed together.

You seemed to be lost in thought for a second, Remus noticed that too, “Yeah… just. Let’s leave the lights off today.”

Now it was Remus’ turn to frown, he took his hand from Sirius’ neck and sat straighter, pulling back and leaning in closer to look at your face, his hand instinctively traveling to your thigh. Sirius, with one hand still inside you –now unmoving– was brushing his thumb in circles on your waist, they were both giving you their unwavering attention, and your breath hitched in your throat. You looked at them nervously, your eyes traveling from boy to boy at unprecedented speeds and you bit your lip, and then the lights were off again.

Once they were off, you sighed and leaned your head on Sirius’ shoulder. He felt how you relaxed in an instant, and his frown deepened. “Angel, what is it?”

“Nothing, light’s giving me a headache,” you lied.

Sirius turned to Remus, while he couldn’t see much, he knew Remus would probably be able to see his questioning stance easily, with his enhanced senses, at least. “You believe her?” he mouthed.

Remus shook his head in response, and when he realized Sirius couldn’t actually see he turned to you and placed his hand on your shoulder. “Are you sure that’s it, luv?”

You swallowed, which was enough indication you weren’t, and you lied again, “Yes, let’s just, continue as is.”

Sirius knew you were lying, and he hated it when you lied to him, he also hated not being able to see shit while Remus could see your every reaction so he turned the lights on, didn’t even use his wand for it, and you tensed again.

You were taken aback by that and swallowed thickly. Your breath was slightly ragged and it was not because you were turned on, in fact, if anything, you felt rather apprehensive now. You cleared your throat. “You know, maybe I’m just not feeling it,” you lied again and pulled yourself off of his hand.

Sirius felt way too many things at the same time, he was worried about your reaction since he thought he’d done something wrong. He was angry because he knew you were hiding the exact reason; he wanted, no, he needed to know what was up so he would never do it again, and thirdly, he was upset, he’d felt…rejected. And by you, no other.

By the time Sirius reacted again, you were buttoning your shirt up and walking towards their door. James, who had been asleep till then, was finally awoken by the lights coming on and off and the small commotion going on. He was confused, at first he thought you were just playing, but perhaps that was not it.

But Sirius was faster, and he jumped over Remus to get to the door just as you were opening it and shut it closed. You jumped back just a little, shocked at how fast he’d moved, you were now the one with a frown, anger bubbling to your chest, Sirius’ temper had always been something you’d learn to deal with, and even if you knew it was justified now, that didn’t stop yours from flaring up.

“That’s not it,” he said confidently, “that’s not it and you’re not getting out until you tell me what’s upset you.”

“Sirius,” Remus said now, ever the conciliator. He’d also stood from the bed and walked the few strides left to get next to the two of you.

Maybe it wasn’t the best reaction you could have had, but you were already pretty shaken up by the situation at hand, by your rather torturous thoughts and by Srius’ slamming of the door. “Oh, so you know my body better than I do?” you said defensively, “you would know if I have or not a headache.”

“YES!” he responded stubbornly. “I know how it reacts when it has a headache and it’s not the way you were reacting now!”

You shook your head as you scoffed, James was now sitting on the bed looking at the situation both confused and worried.

“Moony! Back me up on this?” he said as he turned his face to him.

Remus bit his lip, as he shook his head, thinking before speaking. “He’s right luv, that was not your headache reaction.”

You scoffed, “ff course, you’d take his side.”

“I’m not taking any sides.”

“Well you are, just don’t realize it!” you said angrily. “If I say I have a headache, I have one and that’s it. Now, I want to leave.”

“Darling,” Remus said as he let out a breath, he seemed worried and upset as well now, you were trying really hard not to feel bad about it, trying to remind yourself why you needed to leave.

It was Sirius who spoke again, his lips quivering as he found the right words, “Just tell me what I did wrong, I’ll never do it again, I promise,” his voice broke near the end. He was panicking, he was terrified he’d hurt you and that you’d leave thinking the worst of him. You knew what was hapening had brought back some past trauma and you didn’t want to be the catalyst of another panick attack.

You took a deep breath when you heard him, your frown deepening as you considered your words, “I found your stash.”

The three men went quiet in an instant. Sirius looked like a deer trapped in headlights, Remus’ jaw had tightened and you’d heard James’ gasp in the back.

“Darling, I–“ Sirius tried to speak but you cut him off.

“No, no,” you tried to reason, more with yourself than with him. “I get, it’s fine, you need your release time and all that, I don’t mind.”

“Well, you clearly do,” Remus said. You felt a hand on your shoulder, it was James’. He had walked towards you the moment he heard about the stash but you hadn’t noticed until then. You flinched but missed the hurt look that etched his features as he looked at you.

“Well yes. But it’s a stupid feeling nonetheless. I’ll get over it. Just need time.”

“It was me,” James said from behind, “it was my idea, not Sirius’. Don’t be upset at him.”

You swallowed thickly, not wanting to be angry at James for something so natural in men, let alone because you knew this whole mess was created due to your own thoughts and insecurities, not theirs. And now you were upsetting them, what a great bIoody girlfriend you were.

“I don’t bIoody care whose idea it was!” you spat. “Please let me off,” you said then, leg bouncing, you wanted to get out before you said something that would upset them more.

“We’ll never do it again if that makes you feel better,” Sirius tried.

“No it– It fucking doesn’t, okay? It’s fine, it’s… Found it a couple of nights ago when my ink pot fell on the floor.” The three boys exchanged a look with each other, had either of them changed its spot? “It’s pretty fresh in my mind and– I just– I can’t stop thinking you’re imagining them while being with me.”

“Them?” Sirius asked, confused.

“The pretty witches!” you responded, almost angrily. Remus, who was in front of you looked confused, and you huffed before adding in more detail. “Beautiful redhead,” you looked at James. “Gorgeous blonde,” you added as you turned to Sirius. Then looked back at the taller boy, “need I elaborate?”

You heard James gasp from behind. “She found the old stash!”

“Ah, so you have a new and improved one,” you said now, and shook your head as you turned at the door. Sirius was leaning in and he had a cheeky smile on his face now, which pissed you off even further.

“You could call it that,” he said with a shrug.

“Sirius,” Remus said calmly again. “Don’t.”

But Sirius just smiled instead, “Oh but, I’m impressed. Our lovely angel was jealous.”

“I was not.” You said flatly. “Get off the door, please,” the last part was much more of a beg than a demand.

Sirius shook his head, “not until you see the new stash.”

Remus and James exchanged looks after that, not even sure if they should or shouldn’t stop Sirius.

“I don’t want to see the witches you use to wank off now, it’s enough with the images already in my head. Can’t stop thinking of them, of you thinking about them when you’re looking at me.”

Sirius’ face fell instantly, his teasing stance almost faltering but not his determined blockage of the door.

“That’s not–“

“Have you considered perhaps it was the other way around?” Remus asked as he placed a slightly hesitant hand on your shoulder.

“What?”

“That we imagined you when looking at them.”

You were taken aback by that. No, you hadn’t considered that. “What about the redhead, can’t tell me she wasn’t there because of James’ old obsession with Evans?”

James sighed, it was. That’s why they had to get a new stash.

“She needs to see the new stash,” Sirius said while looking at the two other boys.

“I don’t think that’s a great idea,” James intervened, it had been his idea after all, and he had admitted it to you now. He didn’t want to have you get mad over something else, and this time your anger would be indisputably justifiable.

“I think it is,” Sirius insisted.

You sighed, “you can continue deciding if you’re going to show me your new fuckable witches or not a different day. Sirius, get off the door.”

He shook his head and turned to James, “Please?”

“I don’t want to see them! Enough is enough!”

You turned to the side to try and find another exit when you bumped into Remus, he had a box in his hand. He raised it a bit, you knew what it was instantly.

“Remus!” James complained and went to get it but was hastily stopped by Sirius who got in the way and trapped him in his arms.

“Prongs behave!” He said sternly.

The path to the door was free now, but Remus’ serious stance made you curious, even more when he moved his finger to his lips and bit hard enough to draw bIood.

“What the fu–“

“It’s so no one can open but us,” he explained. “We bIood charmed it.”

You looked at him with a shocked face, you didn’t think they’d go to such lengths to hide their spicy stuff, what the hell did they even have there?

Some of the metal hinges at the top moved around a little bit, looking almost like a miniature Gringotts vault, and then it snapped open. Remus pushed it your way. You looked at the three boys before picking the first image up. It was Remus, shirtless Remus on the day you’d gone swimming at the Potter’s last summer. He was pulling his hair back and water glistened all over his torso, he looked at you and winked, before turning to look at something else.

You gasped and pulled another picture, it was James and Sirius, both also shirtless, and they were making out under a tree. Sirius had his leg in between James’ and was leaning onto him rather intensely.

The next one was you, you had the swimsuit you’d bought that summer, the one you thought looked really good on you, and you were on your knees, looking for something on the sand, your ass was slightly prompted up and the picture was obviously focused on that. You swallowed thickly and went to grab another one.

You again, this time while making out with Remus, his hand was on your ass and you had realized they were taking a picture, looking at the camera with a diverted gasp before covering the lens with your hand.

You took another one, and this time around you were genuinely shocked, it was Remus, being blown by James. His pinky pretty lips wrapped around Rem’s cock. “Oh, wow.”

James frowned, he knew what else there was in there and he wasn’t sure if he wanted you to see it, he had never felt worse about his own ideas than now. Responsible, he knew he had bertrayed you, in a way. You took the next picture and stared at it for a minute.

It was you again, well, you’re back at least. You were riding Sirius, moving back and forth over his cock as he helped you, hands on your waist as he bit his lip. You didn’t see your face, but you knew it hadn’t been that long ago. If Sirius’ new tattoo was any telling.

You looked at the boys shocked, you hadn’t even realized they’d taken the picture, but you looked as pretty as any witch in the other photos, how had they gotten you to look so good?

They hadn’t done anything, it was just you.

“You don’t have to–“ James started, but you had already picked up another picture.

“Shut up,” you said simply.

You again, this time you were sprawled on the bed with a blindfold on your head. That had been on your birthday. James had one of his hands on your leg, dangerously close to your slit while Sirius was kissing your breast and sucking at your nipples.

And there was more, a lot of pictures from that day, all in compromising positions. Some involving you and the boys, some involving only the boys on different occasions, some you remembered, some in which you hadn’t even been present. There was even one of Sirius wanking off to the picture of you in the swimsuit you had seen earlier.

“I’m sorry–“ James said, now sounding distressed and shaking Sirius off him. “I’m sorry angel, we should have never done it.”

You grabbed another one of the photos, it had clearly been rushed, the camera being hidden as you turned your head to look at the boys, this time around you were kneeling on the bed, and James was jerking himself off to you, teasing your entrance before pulling out completely and allowing his cum to fall over your ass and back.

“You’re right.,” you said as you placed the pictures back in the box, expression neutral. “You should have never done it without asking me–” James swallowed.

“Love I–“

“James, shut up!” you said again, giving the pictures another look. “You should have never done it without asking me first,” you said as you flipped through some more pics and tsking. “I would have helped.”

James’ jaw dropped, and you looked at him with a cheeky smile. Sirius was looking at you proudly and satisfied with his choice while Remus stared at the picture you had in your hand. The one where you were getting a back shot but was shaky and blurry because the camera had been hidden before you saw it.

You moved the picture up, holding it between your fingers as you displayed it to the boys, “What do you say we recreate this one, but with better quality?”

Sirius scoffed a laugh and smiled.

“I’ll get the camera,” Remus said simply.

James was still stunned, and you leaned over and placed a soft kiss on his lips. Sirius leaned from behind and kissed you on the cheek “I told them you should know about it from the beginning but they said you’re too pure for it.”

You laughed at that, “you boys keep calling me angel,” you said as you turned to Sirius and wrapped your hands around his neck, “but I wouldn’t have done all the things I have with you all if I wasn’t the exact opposite,” you added with a smirk.

Want to support me? Like and reblog this post. Comments are my life fuel, so send them out if you have any.

This one might get a part two, if you guys wanna see that <3

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rosierin · 3 months ago

Text

pinky promise | suna rintarou

synopsis; (y/n) and suna go for a late-night drive to escape the city. they stare out at the skyline, the same way they did as kids. they’re older now. maybe a little quieter, but the bracelets still fit. and so does the promise they made when they were fourteen.

this fic is part of the off-season quartet™ series! for more, click here :)

She’s perched in front of her vanity, absently patting eye cream into her skin, the soft glow of warm-toned bulbs spilling across her face. It’s late—11:17 p.m., according to the dusty digital clock by her bed—but sleep hasn’t even tried to flirt with her tonight.

Her room is quiet, save for the low crackle of vinyl spinning in the corner—something soft and sultry, a little bluesy. She’s wearing one of her nicer sleep shirts, not that it matters. Not that anyone’s going to see.

Until her phone buzzes.

She doesn’t look at it right away, just keeps smoothing her moisturizer, slow and methodical. It buzzes again.

Finally, she leans over, unlocking it with a swipe of her pinky.

Rin: you up?

A pause. Then—

You: for you yeah wassup

She hums quietly to the song as she hits send, brushing a few strands of hair behind her ear. It only takes a few seconds for the next reply to come in.

Rin: feel like getting out the house?

She grins.

You: hell yes gimme 5

She doesn’t rush, even though she could. That’s the thing about Suna—he never makes her feel like she has to. There’s a lazy rhythm to everything they do, like the world pauses when they’re alone.

She pulls on her hoodie—the navy one that used to be his until she took it home after a movie night and never gave it back. It still smells a little like his laundry detergent. She slips on a pair of beat-up trainers, grabs her phone and keys, and spritzes a bit of body spray on her clothes—not to impress. Just because.

By the time she steps outside, the air is cool and quiet, the sky ink-dark with a few stars peeking through the clouds. His car’s already waiting by the curb, headlights dimmed. The passenger window rolls down as she approaches.

“Took you long enough,” he calls.

She rolls her eyes.

So much for not having to rush.

“I'm pretty sure I took exactly five minutes,” she mutters as she slides in, tugging the hoodie over her knees.

He pretends to mull it over, flicking his turn signal on as he pulls away from the curb. “Hmm. I dunno about that."

The ride begins in familiar silence. She leans her head against the window, watching streetlights streak by like melted gold. Suna drives like he does everything else—casual, effortless, one hand on the wheel, the other draped lazily out the window, fingers tapping against the door in time with whatever beat’s in his head. His rings catch the streetlights as they drift past, flashes of moonlight winking off polished silver.

There’s something hypnotic about it. The quiet hum of the tires on pavement. The cool breeze tugging at her hair. The low thrum of music that he lets her queue up without comment. Something moody. Something that matches the night.

He doesn’t speak much. He never really has to. She glances at him once, just briefly. The wind tousles his hair and the corner of his mouth is pulled into that faint, unreadable smile. He catches her looking.

“What,” he says, not taking his eyes off the road. “Something on my face?”

She shakes her head, lips quirking. “Just your usual scowl.”

“Hm.” He shifts gears with ease. “I'm actually in a really good mood tonight."

"Really good?" (y/n) parrots, eyebrows shooting up. Suna says nothing, just hums vaguely. Idly taps his finger against the steering wheel.

"Must be the company," she jests, glancing at him.

"Must be."

Eventually, he pulls into a familiar parking lot—their usual place. A quiet hill just outside the city, overlooking a scatter of glittering lights below. It’s not fancy. Just peaceful. Just theirs.

The car engine cuts off, and they sit for a moment, cocooned in stillness.

Then (y/n) twists in her seat and leans into the boot from the back—stretching over the back seat to rummage through the bags she’d stashed earlier. She emerges a moment later with two small, glass-bottled drinks and a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Suna stares. “When did you put those in my car?”

She shrugs, grinning. “A magician never reveals her tricks.”

He raises a brow, watching as she cracks hers open with her teeth. She offers the other to him. He doesn't take it.

“I’m driving.”

“Just one,” she pouts. “The alcohol will wear off eventually.”

“That’s gonna take like—two hours, minimum.”

“Then I hope you’ve got some juicy stories to tell.” She lifts the bottle, lets the cap clink to the dashboard. “I’ve got time. Do you?”

He huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he finally accepts the drink. His own bottle cap comes off with a lazy twist of his teeth—smooth, practiced.

“Only if you ask nicely.”

She scoffs, then clears her throat—hand to chest, voice dripping with theatrical charm. “Rintarou Suna… would you please grace me with just a mere two hours of your time?"

He clinks his bottle to hers. Takes a swig.

“You're a dork,” he says. But he’s smiling.

They sip. The alcohol buzzes low and warm in her belly, and the night unfolds like it always does—slow, aimless, full of half-laughed memories and the kind of conversations that don’t really lead anywhere but feel important anyway.

He tells her about someone from high school getting married. She tells him about a customer who called her “sunshine” and then had the audacity to not even tip her. He says he’s been thinking about getting a new phone. She says she’s been thinking about a social media detox. None are important thoughts. Definitely not the “juicy stories” (y/n) had teased earlier. And yet they say them out loud anyway, and it still feels special.

At some point, her eyes catch on the dainty silver chain bracelet around his wrist. It glints under the overhead light, just slightly, and her breath catches in the back of her throat.

“You still wear that,” she says, a little stunned, a little soft.

Suna glances down, following her gaze, then brushes his hand over the hem of her sleeve. “So do you.”

Something in her chest swells as she adjusts her arm, subtle, like it’s second nature. The fabric shifts just enough for the end of her sleeve to ride up, revealing the thin glint of gold at her wrist. Her bracelet sits looser than it used to, the links worn smooth, the shade a little brassy.

Then, she reaches out and runs a finger along the side of his bracelet—lightly, absentmindedly. Suna shifts his hand slightly, turning it just enough for her to see. Her touch drifts down the inside of his wrist, following the curve without thinking.

His eyes flick to her hand. But he doesn’t say anything. Just lets her.

She smiles to herself, thumb brushing one of the chain’s edges.

Then, almost like she’s talking to herself—soft and fond—

“God, we were what—fourteen?” she murmurs. “I remember they kept sliding off. We had to wrap tape around mine so it wouldn’t fall off during P.E.”

“I told you we should’ve gotten the kid size.”

She smiles, soft and a little sheepish, her fingers brushing his chain again. “Yeah… but they wouldn’t have lasted.”

Time this, it’s Suna who reaches out, his fingers ghosting over her wrist. He runs his thumb along her gold chain, slow and thoughtful, eyes fixed on the way it looks against her skin.

“We could’ve just gotten new ones.”

“I mean, I guess.” Her gaze drops back to her bracelet, his fingers, letting the light catch on the dulled gold. It barely gleams anymore. She huffs a quiet laugh. “We probably should, to be fair.”

“Why?” he says. “They look fine.”

“Not. Have you seen how battered mine is?” She lifts her wrist for emphasis. “Mine’s barely even gold anymore.”

“Nah,” he says, leaning back in his seat. “It has charm.” Then, with a casual shrug: “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”

She snorts. “That’s such a dad thing to say.”

“It’s a good saying.��

“Your phone still works yet you wanna replace it.”

He sucks in a breath, like she’s just hit a nerve. “Ah—phones are different.”

She rolls her eyes, gaze drifting to the device resting in his cupholder. It’s in perfect condition—no cracks, no scratches, not even a single smudge. The clear case, impossibly pristine despite how long he’s had it, holds a crumpled thousand-yen note and a faded My Melody sticker she gave him as a joke two summers ago.

He never took it out.

“You better keep her,” she says, nodding toward the cupholder.

Suna hums, not quite understanding, until he follows her gaze. “Who?”

He reaches over, angling the phone so they can both see it more clearly.

“Melo-chan?” His mouth twitches into one of those lopsided, faint smiles she doesn’t see often. The kind that feels accidental. “’Course I will," he says quietly. "She keeps me company.”

(Y/n) smiles too—warm, fond. The kind of smile that finds her easily whenever she’s with him.

Cute, she thinks.

They fall into another stretch of silence after that, both sipping from their bottles, eyes trained on the view beyond the windshield. Music plays low in the background, something slow and hazy. Outside, the trees rustle softly. The windows are down. The air is cooler here—cleaner—now that they’re out of the city.

She can see the moon clearly from here. A half crescent, pale and glowing, tucked into a sky full of stars she hardly ever sees from their apartment.

She’s not drunk. Maybe a little tipsy. Just enough for the alcohol to settle warm in her chest, loosening her limbs and her lips. Everything feels quieter. Softer.

She thinks back to their matching bracelets… both worn and older now, but still clinging on. Like them.

“…I made you pinky promise back then, didn’t I?”

Suna doesn’t say anything right away, but she sees it in the way his eyes shift—just slightly. Like he's flipping through a memory he already knows by heart. He doesn’t ask which day she means. He doesn’t need to.

“You sure did.”

She turns toward him, folding one leg beneath her. “You remember it?”

He doesn’t look at her. Just takes another sip, leans his head back against the seat, and stares out at the glittering skyline. Then hums.

“Every word.”

She drifts back to that day without meaning to—scuffed knees, laughter echoing through the local park. They’d just climbed a hill, breathless and triumphant, collapsing at the top to look out at the city. No stars back then. Just clouds and warm light and the kind of childhood logic that meant pinky promises were unbreakable.

Out of nowhere, she says, “Hey. Wanna renew our pinky promise?”

Suna blinks at her, slow and amused. “What, like a friendship wedding?”

She laughs. “Yeah! We’ve made it to our twenties and we’re still best friends. That’s rare. That deserves a vow renewal.”

“Kinda weird.” But his voice is light. Teasing. “But okay.”

She holds out her pinky. He doesn’t even hesitate.

“Rintarou Suna,” she begins, voice dramatically solemn, “do you promise to always be my best friend, to support me, to never forget my birthday, and to forever listen to my rants about romance novels and fictional crushes?”

“I do.” His voice is flat. His eyes are soft.

He pauses, then lifts his hand.

“(Y/n) (l/n), do you promise to be my best friend, stop stealing my clothes, and always share the rest of your fries with me?”

She slips a hand behind her back and crosses her fingers with a grin. “I do.”

Suna narrows his eyes. “I saw that.”

She giggles as he leans over and pulls her arm back around to the front. He shakes his head, but he’s smiling too.

“What part of my vows don’t you agree with? The clothes or the food?”

“The clothes,” she says quickly. “I really like your hoodies. They have such a nicer fit.”

He snorts, tugging at the loose fabric around her wrist. “You mean like this one?”

She grins. “Exactly.”

Suna leans his head back against the seat, bottle resting on his thigh. “Y’know, if I charged you for every hoodie you’ve nicked, I could probably retire.”

(Y/n) snorts. “Okay—fair. But if we’re charging for services, I’d like to remind you that I’ve been your unpaid emotional support barista-slash-best friend-slash-stylist for, like, over ten years.”

Suna tilts his head toward her, a brow raised. His tone is mock-offended. “Respectfully, you are not my stylist.”

She gasps, slack-jawed. “Oi, what’s that supposed to mean, then?”

“All I’m saying is I’ve seen your Pinterest boards," he drawls. He doesn’t even blink, just sips lazily, like it’s a known fact.

“Uh, excuse you. Those were from, like—2016.” She throws him a defiant glare. “I dress way better now. I’m timeless.”

He pulls a face, that familiar deadpan one with just the faintest twitch of a smirk. “You are definitely something.”

She whacks his arm. He doesn’t move it.

They go quiet again for a moment, the silence filled with the low hum of the playlist and the distant glow of the city. Everything feels slower up here—the cars below, the blinking lights, the way the night seems to settle around them.

It’s quiet, but not empty.

“…do you think we’ll still be doing this in ten years?” she asks suddenly, eyes still on the skyline.

Suna finishes his drink first, tipping the bottle back until it’s empty. He sets it down with a soft clink, then glances her way.

“You stealing my stuff and sneaking alcohol in my car?”

(Y/n) raises a brow, then drains the rest of her bottle too, wiping her thumb over the rim as she lowers it.

“Mhmm. And annoying you.”

Suna reaches over and takes both bottles, leaning back to place them gently in the footwell behind them.

“If it’s you, I’ll allow it," he says as he sinks back into his chair.

(Y/n) smiles and murmurs, "good."

Now that their drinks are gone, there’s nothing left to do but wait—at least another hour, maybe two, before it’s safe to hit the road again.

But neither of them mind.

The conversation flows as easily as the alcohol in her system, warm and aimless, stretching into the night like it has all the time in the world.

Their arms rest side by side on the centre console, bare wrists brushing in the dim light. (Y/n) glances down—two bracelets, gold and silver, still sitting snug after all these years.

She smiles.

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am-i-interrupting · 5 months ago

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Hi, sorry to bother you but might I request a head over heels, tripping over himself, bumping into things when he hears her name love-struck dumb, old silco? As a former full service SW, he just has puppy dog, clingy written all over him. 🤣

Favors for Favors

Silco had only been half listening to the report that Sevika was giving. It wasn’t anything important. Nothing which needed his direct attention. It was all simply things he should be passingly aware of.

The scratch of his pen was a nice background to her smooth, husked voice. This was a routine the two were both well adjusted to. It hadn’t changed in some time.

Whether or not he should respond to Madame Margot’s request for more funding for guards ran on his mind. She was one of the more competent. Her lady’s brought in a lot of money, very little of which she actually have to the cause and he knew that.

Most of it went towards the luxuries of her business. Keeping rooms nice, pillows fluffed, dolls dressed in a manner of speaking.

He twisted his pen in his hand as he thought.

She was the one he was most familiar with.

Yes, there were others. Renni and her child workers, as she called them, and a warehouse full of shimmer. Chross and his secrets and fast working hit men. Smeech and his loud mouth which didn’t suit the prosthetics he had made. Finn and his. . . Whatever it was exactly he did.

Margot though was something of a collection of all of them. She had the public favor of Finn. She had the will to survive of Smeech. She held secrets and spread shimmer with her workers.

By far she was the most useful of them all.

Silco was in the middle of responding to her request with approval when his ears perked at a name, your name. His pen faltered for a moment. His eyes flicked up to where Sevika stood.

She scoffed. “You really are down bad, aren’t you?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Nothing. Forget it. Did you even hear the last ten minutes or just that last name?” she asked with a bit of humor in her eyes.

Silco’s lip twitched upward. His gaze went back down.

“You were saying about the layoff happening in the docks?”

“I stopped talking about that seven minutes ago, boss,” she said.

He cut her a look and she had the audacity to smile to herself. It was a bit smug and not at all subtle.

“But profits have raised since your girl started,” she said.

He continued to write his approval. “The only girl that is mine is Jinx,” he retorted.

“Uh-huh, sure.”

It was rare that Silco got the chance to banter anymore. It’d been years but some days when Sevika was tired and probably at least a bit tipsy and not in an entirely foul mood, she would joke.

He didn’t admit it but it was small moments like these that he was found of.

She leaned against the desk. Her face got close to his. Her arm sat just above the top of the paper which was still wet with ink.

The smell of tequila was on her breath. Not strong but not weak either.

“Do me a favor, just get fucking laid,” she said.

She pushed herself up. She turned and walked out.

“Only if you do the same,” he said right before she closed the door.

He heard her snort right before there was click of lock sliding in place.

It was two days later when Sevika knocked on his door. He welcomed her in but she merely opened it enough to peak her head inside.

“I held up on my favor,” she said, “now hold up on yours or at least go down there and get a drink.”

It wasn’t late in the night when those words echoed in his mind but rather very early in the morning.

Maybe he should. Maybe he would.

He went downstairs.

“Chuck, go home,” he heard your voice say as he neared the bottom.

“I’m fine,” a hoarse voice replied, gravely and that clearly of a chainsmoker.

“No, you’re not. You got a glass thrown at you. Just let me take care of closing up.”

“Not what I’m paid to do.”

“I believe,” Silco said as he stepped into view, “what I pay you to do is serve drinks.”

Chuck’s lip curled upward into a snarl. He took the wordless demand and turned to his other side.

His sleeve was covered in blood, still wet even just looking. There were small nicks and a very large gash. It curled around his bicep and dug into it.

“Should I request the Doctor give you visit or would you prefer your means?” Silco asked as he looked at the wound. Chuck’s silence was reply. “Very well then. I highly suggest you take advantage the kindness being gifted to you. It’s rarity these days.”

“Fine,” Chuck said through gritted teeth.

When the door slammed shut, Silco finally looked at you. You had a small, pleased smile on your face. Your chin was held by your hand. Eyes were fixed on him.

Silco took a deep breath and tried to will down that little jump his heart tried to do, aiming for his throat.

“You’re going soft,” you said in a sing-song tone.

“He can’t serve drinks if he can’t use his arm,” Silco said.

“Uh-huh, sure.”

You spun around and reached for a bottle of whiskey. A glass was picked up in your hands as you turned around to the bar. A small scoop was filled with ice which clinked against the glass as it was plopped in. You didn’t look down as you filled it.

“What gives me the pleasure of your company tonight?” you asked.

That simple question led to over an hour of conversation and Silco behind the bar, helping you clean. All because he mentioned he’d once had experience and you had audacity to challenge that.

#Silco & Sevika friendship my beloved #silco arcane x you #silco arcane x reader #silco x you #silco x reader

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walkingzombiegirl · 1 year ago

Note

hiii can i request some fluff with toge inumaki and fem!reader? like headcannons on how it would be like to date him and how their relationship grew? i love your works you do such a great job! <3

━ 𝘿𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙄𝙣𝙪𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙞

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 - Toge Inumaki x Fem!Reader

𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀 - Headcanons for dating your favorite partial mute!

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 - Cursing? Maybe? Alludes to death

𝗲𝘅𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘀 - My brain ran out of ink I might add more

You guys met when you joined the school as a first year and the first thing you seen was a talking panda

A surprise fr

But then you met him, and it was bonito flakes at first sight

Okay no more jokes

But seriously he was really cute and you were extremely awkward around him for the longest because it's already hard wondering what your crush thinks about you

But you couldn't physically understand yours

Not at first I mean

Inumaki thought you were also also very pretty however he knew that there was definitely going to be a barrier until you began to understand him like his friends did

It's when the notes began

He first began them when he asked you for a pencil right before an exam and it carried over

Each time he needed to communicate with you, he'd write a note

You'd pass them back and forth in class as well, when you were supposed to be being quiet

Gojo pretended he didn't see that part

Until finally his words, though very few, began to click

Like Groot, you caught on, faster than anyone else had and even Maki was impressed with that

He still likes leaving you notes though

Especially in your desk or just around where he knows you and you only will find them

And one day, a note on your desk said, DATE? YES NO

Panda couldn't stop giggling, so you knew something was up

Obviously, as seen above you said yes

I could just imagine all the ways he'd show his love without speaking it for the most part

Like the notes

Also a firm believer that he's very much a hand holder as well, he likes playing with your fingers

Also stares a lot

Especially when you're talking and telling something bro gets extremely zoned in and stares you down like you've hung the sun and stars and are the best thing that's ever happened to him

Which you are

He's whipped

All his friends know this as well, they love it

You don't get to see much happiness often in their world, all you really have is each other and long live happy relationships as long as they last

He likes taking walks, the clear his head since y'know, saying certain things might murder everyone in a few mile radius

They're very personal to him

So he starts taking you, and sometimes it's silence, sometimes he likes just hearing you talk because it helps calm him

Sometimes you both share earbuds

Whatever it is they're some of his favorite things ever and he'll take secrets pics of you if you skip ahead

Great insta posts the man CAN take a photo

He's the type of boyfriend to get in the most awkward poses if you need a good selfie

YES GIRL GIVE US SALMON

*squats*

He truly loves you and worships the ground you walk on

DIY king also btw

Idk why that thought just popped in my head but I feel like he truly can do anything if you ask him

Build you a bookshelf? Five minutes, no sweat, zero mistakes and it's done and he just stares at you like :3

Great listener obviously

HIS BITCH POSE IS NASTY

if you say something even remotely untrue he gives you the biggest most diabolical silent side eye ever seen before

Shakes the ground

Eyebrow game is strong, very expressive man it's very attractive

My thoughts are running out but he's just a king of being a boyfriend

a/n: best friend break up!!!!!!!!!!! THEY STUICJK

#toge inumaki #toge inumaki x reader #toge inumaki x you #inumaki x reader #inumaki x you #inumaki x y/n #toge x reader #toge x you #toge x y/n

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reysdriver · 1 year ago

Note

Hey darlin'! I just saw your one-shots and i REALLY love them!! I need morr about Eddie with Hopper!Reader <33 Please!! A fluff or a smut where the Reader have to deal with her father. Hope you can answer. Have a nice day!! ✨️

-🩷

You and Eddie try to have a chill night in, but it's difficult when you have the world's most paranoid chief of police as a father — eddie x fem!hopper!reader fluff

warnings: none

words: 1.2k

a/n: thanks for submitting a request! I'm sorry it took so long, I've been so busy lately, and I'm sorry I couldn't figure out how to end it lmao but I really hope you like this fic!!

Even though your dad knew about you and Eddie dating, he was definitely not as okay with it as you would have hoped, but honestly more than you had expected.

He had met Eddie a few times since he found out you were in romantic cahoots with the familiar criminal, and despite your fears, they had gotten along quite well despite their history and their differences. But no matter how many things they actually had in common, no father would fully trust Eddie Munson to be alone with his little girl.

“Door open three inches!” Your dad called from the couch. “You know the rules!”

You rolled your eyes, standing up from the bed to open the door to Hopper’s liking.

The door was open three inches, and you swore that it was the draft causing the door to move slightly, but you knew your dad would never believe you.

“Seriously, Dad?” You asked him.

“Rules are rules.” He confirmed. “If you don’t like it, then the boyfriend can go.”

You let out a heavy, dramatic sigh before returning to your boyfriend, who was currently sketching out a Dungeons and Dragons character based on you for his new campaign.

Eddie looked up from his paper when you sat back down next to him. “You can do a lot with three inches, you know?”

You put a finger over his mouth—which he playfully tried to bite—and you shushed him while holding back a laugh at his incredibly stupid, albeit funny, joke.

“He’s gonna hear you, and he’s gonna drag you out of here. Keep drawing.”

He put the finishing touches on his design, then let out a sound of satisfaction over it before turning the notebook so you could see it better.

“I think I did pretty good.” Your boyfriend proclaimed. “She’s almost as pretty as you.”

Oh, how you lucked out with this mysterious dork. You thanked him by pressing a quick kiss on his cheek before your dad became suspicious of you two once again.

“You think I should get it as some ink?” Eddie asked you.

“Like, you want to get it tattooed?”

Eddie nodded, eyes going back and forth between you and the cartoon version of you that he just made.

“Absolutely not.” You replied.

“What? Why not? Do you not love me enough to let me tattoo you on me?”

He was ridiculous, staring at you with big, fake puppy dog eyes and a pleading lip.

“Of course I love you, but as your girlfriend, I also need to stop you from doing stupid things.”

“What if I keep your tattoo separate from the creepy skulls and spiders?”

Well, that was an offer you almost couldn’t refuse. Even though it was tempting, you would never let him know that he can get to you like that, so you played it cool.

“Ask me again in a year.”

His face erupted into a devilish smile and he held his hands to his chest like a cartoon character in love.

“I’m getting a tramp stamp of my girlfriend in a year!”

Before you could protest his proclamation, he pulled you into his arms in what you hoped was just a teasing gesture rather than a genuine expression of excitement for something you were certainly not going to let happen.

Just a second later, your dad cleared his throat very pointedly, which practically frightened you out of your boyfriend’s arms.

“El wants to watch a movie.” He announced. “Come watch with us.”

You sat up and shook your head lightly. “Um, no thanks, Dad. We’ll pass on that.”

Your dad raised an eyebrow and looked at Eddie’s arm around your waist. “You have something better to do?”

It was at that point that you knew him telling you about your sister and the movie was an order, not an invitation. You bit the inside of your cheek and luckily, Eddie spoke up before you could say something snarky.

“A movie sounds great, chief. Count us in.”

“Good.” Hopper said curtly before turning around to the living room.

Eddie stood up and started teasingly pulling you off the bed. You laid down and let out an annoyed groan, resisting his attempts to move you.

“C’mon, babe, movie time.” Eddie encouraged.

“It’s just gonna be The Wild Bunch. That’s one of their favourite movies and I know El’s been wanting to see it again lately.” You mumbled. “I’d much rather stay here with you.”

“Well, your dad might never let me back in your house if he thinks I’m trying anything with his daughter in the other room, so we have to. Plus, I like The Wild Bunch too.”

Your face formed an exaggerated frown as you finally got up off the bed.

Eddie smiled and escorted you to the living room. And although you had just started to build up excitement within you for this movie night, it already got worse.

El was in her favourite recliner—the VHS case for The Wild Bunch was on her lap, you called it—but your dad had plopped himself down in the exact middle of the couch. Not only did you have to watch a movie with your family instead of chilling with your boyfriend, but you couldn’t even sit next to him because your dad hates the idea of you having fun.

Before you knew it, you were in a full on stare-down with the Hawkins chief of police.

“Take a seat.” He said passive aggressively.

“I want to sit next to Eddie, Dad. Could you move over?”

He shook his head. “I’m not falling for any of your tricks. I was a teenager once.”

“Yeah, like a thousand years ago.” You mumbled.

The comment was quiet but your dad still heard it.

“Careful, any attitude and I’ll assume it came from the moron and he won’t be allowed back in the house.”

You looked over at Eddie with a defeated expression on your face. He looked back at you, sympathetic and willing to comply—the latter was a complete switch from his normal mood.

Your boyfriend understood completely why your dad was worried about you and Eddie dating, but that didn’t mean he was happy about it. Of course, Eddie was willing to do whatever he could to seem like the boyfriend every parent would want for their daughter—he really was, some people just couldn’t look past the exterior shell to see it—so he held his tongue and went along with anything.

The two of you sat down on opposite sides of the couch, separated by your relentless father.

“Alright, El, play the movie.” Hopper said.

He then leaned back and kept his eyes on the television in front of you all.

Eddie soon caught your gaze from across the couch, and he stretched his arm behind his head, oh so conveniently placing it a few inches from your shoulder.

You grinned at him, keeping it subtle, and took his hand in yours.

The two of you watched the rest of the film like that, holding hands in that slightly uncomfortable way, and the night wasn’t as insufferable as it seemed like it was going to be. All thanks to Eddie, of course.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x hopper!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fluff

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alice-angel12x · 1 year ago

Note

What if the twisted wonderland react the MC/Reader have a magical paintbrush just like epic mickey games?

Also this is yuu's paintbrush looks like btw

Yuu! Epic Mickey Twisted Wonderland

Here's a fun art peice I did cause the image was so fun.

Overblot boys (Riddle, Leona, Azul, and Jamil) React to Epic Mickey!Yuu

I remember when I first created Forgotten Wasteland, and how my apprentice made a mess of it all. While I am glad he repaired all the damage he has done, I couldn't trust him to not let his mischievous curiosity get the better of him. So I took up my magical brush and created a helper or a protector. They would keep watch and protect the toons of wasteland. They were an excellent student, they quickly mastered the magic of the brush. If only my other student was this obedient. (Geez Yen Sid, biased much).

Master Yen Sid watched Yuu gently and with a calculated stroke of the bush on the wasteland. The old wise wizard nodded with approval.

"You have done well," Yen Sid said as he gave a pat on Yuu's head.

Yuu smiled softly when they noticed their master holding his hand out, asking for his paintbrush back. They handed the wizards the brush, and suddenly began to dip it into the paint. Where he began to wave the brush in the air, creating something. Something big.

With a final stroke, there before him was a beautiful paintbrush. It was almost Yuu's height, as the wizard handed them the gift.

"Be very careful with this magic. With great strength, comes even greater responsibility. This is not something to play with willy-nilly," Yen Sid said sternly.

"Yes, Master Yen Sid. I promise to use this power for good," Yuu said, trying to contain their excitement.

"I know you will. I can see great things from you," Yen Sid said with a small smile. "Take good care of Wasteland."

If only Yen Sid knew, that his favorite pupil would vanish from under his nose. They would somehow end up in a place called Twisted Wonderland.

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💗Riddle RoseHeart 💗

Before the blot:

When he first meets Yuu, he doesn't really take them seriously. Since the mirror says they are not a magic user.

He thinks the large paintbrush Yuu carries around is really inconvenient. And Does not look forward to all the potential mess it could bring.

After/during Blot:

Overblot Riddle struggled in the battle with Yuu. The most annoying thing they did was paint his rose bushes Blue, turning them against him.

Turns out Yuu and their magic paintbrush weren't as useless as Riddle assumed.

Yuu's finishing blow was a good whack to the head, dousing Riddle and the ink phantom with a powerful stream of thinner, erasing the blotted ink instantly.

Leaving an unblotted Riddle behind. Though Yuu gave Riddle one last splash of thinner for safe measure.

Leaving a crying drenched mess.

After fixing that, they left all of Heartslybuyal in awe as they watched the thinner in the brush turn to blue paint. And with many strokes of the brush, the unbirthday party was restored.

After that Riddle had a lot more respect for Yuu, and was a lot more curious of what else Yuu could do with their brush.

____________________________________

🦁Leona Kingscholar 🦁

Before Blot:

He could have cared less about this person. He thought they looked ridiculous with their giant brush. On top of that, they were magicless.

However, he did note that this new student smelt strange. Yet he paid them no mind.

After/during Blot:

Leona had a bit of an easier time against Yuu, cause of the howling sandstorm. Making it difficult for Yuu to toss the Thinner on the phantom and the inkblot.

So with the help of the first-year squad, moved upwind and with this. Yuu blasted Leona with a wave of magic Thinner.

The phantom quickly resolved, and Leona could only stare in shock as the Thinner swept him away.

Of course, they made sure to drench Leona in thinner to be sure all the inkblot was gone.

After the whole event, he was strangely enough. interested in going against the Ramshackle team. Even if it wasn't an official match.

He would smirk in interest as Yuu used their magic brush to create a flying broom for themselves. And some Toon as extra players for the team.

____________________________________

Azul Ashengrotto

Before Blot:

He was amused at most, like why would any person carry such a cumbersome thing around.

And they were magicless on top of that. What an odd individual. But for the most part, also didn't pay much attention.

Till the idea of obtaining the Ramshackle dorm. At first the ain't brush was interesting, but he simply assumed that it was some weird decoration.

Yet he did notice Yuu's strange hesitance of water. Specifically the idea of being in water. Azul would happily take advantage of Yuu's fears.

After/during Blot:

This was a frustrating battle for both fighters. Since Azul can keep spewing ink, just as much as Yuu can remove it.

But with the help of allies and friends, Yuu was able to wash away all the ink with their brush and thinner. With a good whack, to bring Azul back to his senses.

Even after the battle, Yuu seemed to refuse to go near the water. A phobia maybe, Azul thought to himself.

Azul is indeed interested in Yuu's power but finds them confusing too. Yuu wants to see the world under the waves, yet refuses to go anywhere near the water.

He tries to ask Jade and Floyd what they know about this student. But not even they could dig anything up about them.

____________________________________

Jamil Viper

Before Blot:

He honestly could care less about them in the start.

He sees them as a perfect pawn to overthrow Kalim. Jamil also notices Yuu's strange fear of water, even if it is in rain form.

But whatever it took to knock Kalim down, he did not care much. Though he did learn some interesting things about them. After using Snake whisper on them.

After/during Blot:

Yuu surprised attacked him, doused him in Thinner, and quickly took him down. Much to Jamil's emmerassement.

Last time he underestimates a person with a giant brush.

During the party in the desert, he saw Yuu sitting in the shade of the trees away from the oasis.

So he sat next to them. "So... Is it true you're made out of paint?"

Part 2, or a focus on one character at a time to have a mini story. (cause I have basically a fan fic Idea in my empty brain)

#twisted oc #twisted wonderland #twst headcanons #twst oc #twst yuu #twisted wonderland x reader #epic mickey #epic mickey!reader #twst x reader #twst mc #riddle roseheart x reader #riddle rosehearts #twst riddle #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #jamil viper x reader

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