#i get its annoying but lets chill maybe | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rafecameronssl4t · 8 months ago

Note

Forced marriage au request: I know it was purely a transactional marriage and he finds her annoying, always acting cold but maybe you could write about him going soft, starting to feel something towards her. being a bit confused and feeling protective of her 🥺

Foreign feelings || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: THANK YOU GUYS FOR 2K FOLLOWERS AHHHH LOVE EACH AND EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOUS

Warnings: mention of blood,

Word count: 1,840

MASTERLIST (forced marriage au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

Rafe’s voice slices through the air like a knife, its sharpness reverberating down the long, empty hallway. You sit in the armchair, your eyes fixed on the TV screen, pretending not to hear him. But his presence is impossible to ignore. The steady rhythm of his footsteps grows louder, the sound bouncing off the cold marble floors, each step punctuating his rising anger.

He finally comes to a stop beside the armchair where you sit, tension radiating off him. “Get up,” he commands, his voice cold and unyielding. The chill in his tone sends a shiver down your spine, but you stubbornly refuse to acknowledge him. Your gaze remains glued to the screen, as if the scene playing out before you could somehow drown out the tension crackling in the air.

“No,” you reply, your voice firm, laced with quiet defiance. You don’t bother to look at him; the anger radiating from him is palpable enough. His scoff is filled with derision, the sound grating against your nerves. “I said get up. I’m not asking, I’m telling you,” he spits, his words sharp as glass.

Reluctantly, you drag your eyes away from the screen and turn to face him. The sight of him only intensifies the knot of irritation in your chest. His jaw is clenched, his eyes flashing with barely restrained fury. Something has clearly set him off, and by the look on his face, it’s bad.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at work? What are you doing here?” you snap, suspicion lacing your tone. It’s rare for him to come home in the middle of the day, especially with this kind of energy. Your eyes narrow, trying to gauge the storm brewing beneath his composed exterior.

“Yeah, I’m supposed to be at work,” he snarls, “but instead, I get a call from your mother asking about your whereabouts because you can’t seem to pick up your damn phone.” His voice is rising, the anger simmering just below the surface. You roll your eyes, dismissing the seriousness he’s trying to impress upon you.

“My phone was flat. I was charging it in my room,” you say with a shrug, your tone indifferent, as if that alone should explain everything. To you, it’s a non-issue, not worth the confrontation. “Why couldn’t she just call Anita? Or literally any of the staff?”

Rafe’s eyes narrow, his frustration bubbling over. “Did you forget that today is a public holiday? No one is here,” he snaps, his words dripping with condescension. His hands drop to his hips as he lets out a loud, exasperated sigh, trying to rein in his temper. “She wants to see you at her house, now,” he says, his tone leaving no room for argument. The demand in his voice is clear—this is not a request.

You open your mouth to argue, to push back against his orders, but the words die in your throat. There’s no point in resisting when he’s like this—volatile and unyielding. “Fine, just let me get my shoes,” you huff, annoyance prickling at you as you stand up. He steps aside, giving you space to pass, but as you brush by him, you hear his muttered curse, low but unmistakable.

“Fucking brat.” The words hit you like a slap, stinging more than you care to admit. You pause for a fraction of a second before continuing your stride, your back stiff with indignation. “I heard that, you prick,” you call out over your shoulder, your voice sharp, the anger simmering beneath the surface finally finding an outlet. You don’t bother to turn around; you’ve already given him enough of your attention.

You let out a sigh, the weight of the situation pressing down on you as you shut the door of Rafe’s car. The air outside is thick with the late afternoon heat, but it does little to warm the chill that runs down your spine as you gaze up at your parents’ house. The grand facade looms before you, imposing and uninviting, its elegant walls holding more secrets than comfort.

You wonder, not for the first time, why your mother has summoned you here so urgently. The unease you feel is only deepened by the knowledge that nothing good ever comes from such unexpected calls. As you begin the walk towards the front door, you glance back over your shoulder at Rafe. He’s leaning casually against the bonnet of his car, his arms crossed over his chest, eyes focused on his watch as if your family drama is just another inconvenience in his day.

His indifference grates on your nerves, and you roll your eyes, turning away from him. He isn’t coming inside, leaving you to face whatever awaits you alone. The door opens before you even reach it, your parents’ butler standing there with a solemn expression. He nods curtly, directing you to the drawing room where your mother waits. His silence feels like a warning, but you push it aside, forcing your feet to move forward.

The house is eerily quiet, the only sound the soft click of your heels against the polished floors. When you reach the drawing room, you pause for a moment, hand resting on the door handle. Steeling yourself, you push the door open and step inside. The room is dimly lit, heavy drapes partially drawn against the late afternoon sun.

Your mother’s back is turned to you, her posture rigid as she stares out the window, her reflection a ghostly figure in the glass. “Did you not think I wouldn't notice?” Her voice cuts through the silence, sharp and cold, freezing you in place. A shiver runs through you as your body tenses instinctively at her tone.

“Notice what?” you ask slowly, the words cautious as you take a few steps into the room. There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach as you approach her, the air thick with unspoken accusations. You move towards the armchair, lowering yourself into it with deliberate calm, though your heart pounds in your chest.

Your mother doesn’t turn to face you. Instead, she lifts her teacup with a graceful hand, taking a delicate sip before setting it back on the table beside her. The soft clink of porcelain is the only sound that fills the room, heightening your anxiety.

“Oh, don’t act stupid now, dear,” she says with a chuckle, the sound low and mocking. The corners of her lips curl into a smile, but it’s anything but warm. It’s the kind of smile that sends a chill down your spine, a predator’s grin before the strike. You swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry as you struggle to maintain your composure.

The metallic taste of blood filled your mouth as you bit down on your trembling lip, trying to keep yourself from breaking down completely. Your vision blurred, the tears that you had fought so hard to hold back now clouding your sight as you stepped out into the harsh afternoon sun.

Rafe was still where you had left him, leaning lazily against the bonnet of his car, his expression one of bored impatience. He barely glanced up at the sound of your footsteps crunching against the gravel. But as you drew closer, he turned his head, his eyes narrowing as he took in your appearance.

“Finally, haven’t got all fuckin’ day—” Rafe’s words trailed off as his eyes narrowed, his irritation quickly giving way to something else, something unfamiliar. Concern? It felt foreign to him, this sudden urge to care about what was happening to you. His eyes widened slightly when he saw the state you were in—your eyes red and swollen from crying, cheeks streaked with tears, and most telling of all, the angry redness of a handprint still visible on your skin.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice softer now, laced with a concern he wasn’t used to feeling, especially not for you. But you couldn’t bring yourself to answer. But you couldn’t bring yourself to answer. The tries you had tried so hard to keep from falling fell, and the sobs that had been building inside you came rushing out, unstoppable and raw.

Your hands flew to your face as if to hide from him, from the world, from the humiliation and pain that you couldn’t bear to show. Rafe hesitated for a moment, wanting to tell you to pull yourself together. But something in the way you crumpled in front of him, so broken and vulnerable, made him pause.

Without a second thought, he closed the distance between you, his annoyance evaporating as he pulled you into his arms. The gesture surprised him as much as it did you. His hold was firm yet gentle, one hand cradling the back of your head as the other wrapped around your waist, anchoring you to him.

It was as if his body moved on its own, instinctively knowing that this was what you needed, even if he didn’t fully understand why. “It’s okay, I’ve got you,” he murmured, his voice uncharacteristically soothing, a contrast to the cold, distant tone he usually reserved for you. His fingers tangled in your hair as he tried to calm you, his touch surprisingly tender as he stroked your back, letting you cry against him.

For once, his usual rough edges were softened, and all you could feel was the warmth of his embrace and the steady rhythm of his breathing, grounding you in the midst of your anguish. As you clung to him, your tears soaking into his shirt, Rafe found himself torn between confusion and something deeper. This wasn’t how he was supposed to feel—this protectiveness, this need to shield you from whatever had hurt you.

You were supposed to be an inconvenience, a pawn in a game neither of you had wanted to play. But now, with you trembling in his arms, he couldn’t ignore the tightness in his chest, the way his heart ached at the sight of your pain. He had always prided himself on keeping his emotions in check, on maintaining that distance between the two of you. But now, as he held you close, something inside him was shifting, softening in a way that scared him.

He didn’t want to care, didn’t want to feel this pull towards you that was growing stronger with every passing second. Yet here he was, unable to pull away, unable to stop himself from wanting to protect you, even if he didn’t fully understand why. Rafe didn’t say anything more, didn’t know what to say as you continued to cry against his chest.

The world around you faded into the background, leaving just the two of you in that moment—one filled with pain, but also with a strange sense of comfort. For the first time, Rafe allowed himself to be vulnerable too, to let down the walls he had so carefully constructed. And as he held you, he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, there was more to this marriage than he had ever let himself believe.

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just1cefor4ll · 1 year ago

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SBG characters getting caught making out with their s/o

warnings: making out, swearing, bad grammar, maybe OOC characters?? idk

Part I Part II

Tyler Hernández

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Taylor would probably be the one to interrupt you two

You would be having a sleepover at his house and watching a movie when Tyler just pulls you into a kiss lmao

He would be pulling you into his lap his hands would either be on your waist or ass

Definitely calls you sweet nicknames during it in between kisses or just mumbles them while he kisses your neck

She comes when you really least expect it

I feel like you can’t really hear her footsteps that much cuz she just learned how to sneak around lol

Tyler would instantly pull away from you and not necessarily push you off of him but like makes it look like you were just cuddling

You just hide your flushed face in his chest while he asks Taylor what she wants and shi

Is pretty calm but annoyed that you got interrupted

Taylor Hernández

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You two would be making out somewhere in the phantom realm haha

LET ME EXPLAIN!!! It would probably be that you pulled Taylor away from the group and they would probably be just chilling, discussing their next plan so nothing you couldn’t ask about later

You would be inside the bus, somewhere in the back on the floor, you cupping Taylors right cheek while she cupped your left one as you kissed

You would slowly pull her into your lap and slip a hand under her shirt, rubbing circlers on her waist/lower stomach

The whole thing gets heated when you hear someone come into the bus but you quickly realize its Ashlyn

“Hey you two calm down, I can hear the whole thing and I really don’t need to!!”

“Okay ms. single as a fucking pringle.”

“Y/N!!”

You would laugh about the situation while Taylor just prays Ash doesn’t say anything to Tyler who would probably beat your sorry ass

Aiden Clark

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You would be skipping class probably, making out in some random bathroom stall

Aiden would be full on slipping his tongue into your mouth, leaving hickeys on your collarbone

All of it would be going well, you were having a good time since Aiden was some how skilled with these things when shit goes bad in like a second

A teacher would come into the bathroom, searching for you since you were literally SKIPPING CLASS

“Alright if anyone is in here come out, if not i’ll be going to the principal and he will deal with you.”

Aiden pulls away from you and smirks, grabbing you by the waist and pulls you out looking proud as fuck as if he won some kind of competition

The teacher leaves you with a warning, seemingly acting like he didn’t witness any of that shit

The teacher would just be like “I ain’t payed enough for this”

Makes sure you go to class tho

Aiden definitely teases you later cuz thats just Aiden

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caramelpeaching · 4 months ago

Text

COCCINEUM — (park sunghoon)

pairing. vampire!sunghoon x human!reader

word count. 7k

genre. smut (with plot)

warnings. blood mentions (he's a vampire), dom!sunghoon, oral (f. & m. receiving), hair pulling, spanking (just one smack tbh), fingering, degrading & praise (not much, he's just a little mean sometimes), multiple orgasms (f.), overstimulation, pet names, a little of aftercare, reader's best friend is a dick

synopsis. There's nothing weirder than coming home from shopping at night and remembering absolutely nothing, but what if a pretty face makes you remember everything? Maybe the weirdest thing was him all this time.

Walking alone through the empty streets during night time wasn't something that made people feel comfortable, and you weren't the exception. Your ears pricked up with every little noise, and when something cracked, your head turned to that direction.

Nothing.

There was nothing behind you, nothing that would have cracked a single tree branch that was now laying on the paved ground. Your grip on your bag tightened, ready to start running away as far as you could from that almost completely dark alley. The first time you thought about it it didn't seem as bad of an idea to shortcut through this barely iluminated one. Your steps quickened, but when you were halfway crossing it, the only postlight flickered a few times, finally turning off in front of your eyes. And he knew it was his time to act.

A hand wrapped its fingers around your wrist, turning you around and pressing your back against one of the walls of the buildings that formed the alley. A sudden urge to flee the scene hit you like a cold water bucket being thrown on your face, your free hand still holding the bag they gave you at the 24h shop, and a quick swing from it gave you hopes of leaving.

The guy smirked at your attempt of self-defense, stopping the swing with his other arm, covering the side of his face. "That wasn't a very nice thing to do, hm?" His voice was nothing more than a whisper, sending chills down your back. And at the feeling of your knees and feet trying to land some hits on his legs, which you oblivious to it all thought were pretty much good kicks, his features only got slightly annoyed. With knitted perfect brows, he talked to you again. "You're a troublesome. Stop struggling, be good and avoid moving, you'll end up hurting yourself more."

"No! Let me go!" You shouted, letting the bag land with a loud thud onto the ground. Taking advantage of your new freely hand, you pressed it hard against his cheek, pushing his face away some inches. "Go away! What do you even want?!"

He complained with a low growl, both of your hands on top of your head, pinned to the wall in less than a second . "What do I want?" It was a sarcastic tone, mocking you. "For you to shush and make things easier for both of us. I'm starving."

"Take it all then, take the whole bag!" Your eyes wandered to the ground, some snacks boxes fell out of the plastic and now were all over the paved street.

"Do I seem like the type of guy to eat that shit?"

His words rumbled on your eardrums, the sigh of that cocky grin appearing again on the commissure of his lips, revealing his teeth. Long, sharp fangs emerging from his gums, upper ones passing his lower lip. Scoffing was all you could do, incredulous at what you were seeing. "Nice joke." You mumbled, not too sure if it actually was one, they looked so real.

The tall guy used his other hand to yank your hair and pull your head to the side, getting a gasp from your side and leaving an open espace to fit his face. "I'm upset you think it's a joke, but if you want to believe so... Whatever makes you the happiest, doll." A shiver started at your neck and ended at your toes when the warmes of a bigger and harder tongue licked a small spot near to your collarbone, making you freeze. "Finally noticed how real this is, huh?" He chuckled.

You shook your head from side to side, refusing to process that it was all real as he was telling you. "Please. Please, don't." A little whisper slipped out of your throat, his face lifting when he heard your pleas, eyes glowing in a now redish tone, different from his previous dark color.

"Don't what? You need to be more specific about this one."

Each time his voice entered your ears and the vibrations reached the deepest point in them you could feel how you lost yourself, little by little. The tone of his voice, the shimmer in his eyes as he looked at yours, the way his claws brushed on your scalp, and how good it felt his wet muscle over your sensitive skin, right above the pulse of your carotid artery. "D-don't bite me." You finally begged.

His face disappeared again on your neck, his fangs tracing patters, lines that went up and down on a single path. "How hopeful are you? Or maybe just a dumb little prey." Soft nibbles were left around that same wet spot. "Did you just ask a vampire not to bite you while we're like this, pretty?" Something caught his attention, because one more time those eyes that your body was starting to be forced to love, scanned your traits. "Oh? What are those? Shhh..." He shushed you, the tip of his tongue cleaning all of the tears that had your cheeks stained. The moment he finished, a sweeter smile was directed to you. "Come on, I know you can behave. You're already half lost, it's not like you can do anything else. I'll make it hurt as little as possible, alright? That's it, just nod for me."

Like he asked you to do, you did no more shaking of your head, just nods. Your tears got wiped away just to feel the warmth of his saliva instead, or maybe what stayed over your puffy cheeks was a mix of both.

When he saw how you stayed still, completely drunk on his essence, he let go of your hair and wrists. Your eyes closed and a sting made you whine, holding his shoulder as tightly as you could, a weak grasp if you were to ask him later. The side of your face pressing lightly on top of his hair as he bit down and after a good half a minute, the needles-like fangs came out of the new holes of your neck. "How are you feeling?" He asked, detaching from you just while he spoke, returning to lap over the two marks, cleaning all the blood that escaped after he ended the bite. You hummed, eyes still closed. "Need you to answer me. I might be a bloodsucker, and I'm sorry for that. But I'm not a killer." He cupped your cheek, holding your face up to make eye contact with you once he stood up straight. "Now tell me, what's your name?" Your name came out in a murmur, not having too much strenght to answer his question. "And what time is it now, more or less?"

"It's... it's 2AM?" You replied, more like a question, because you had no idea of how much time had passed since you left the convenience store. "Good. Yes, it's 2AM. And I think it's time for you to head back home, something bad could happen to you." He said, almost like if being bitten by a vampire wasn't something to be worried, or like if he wasn't the one that did so. He left your body pressed on the wall to crouch down and pick up the bag that fell from your hand time ago. "Here, you remember where your house is?" He handed it to you. "Y-yeah, yeah." You could notice how the tingles that covered your whole neck finally stopped, and that half-drunk state you were induced also started to vanish from your system. And like that, with a bit of his help, you took the firsts step towards your destination.

Weeks went by and the memories from that weird walk back home weren't returning to your mind in the slightest, everything was a blank in your mind. To be fair it was more like a red, because one thing was clear, that iron taste on the deepests parts of your throat lasted for the next three days. The more you thought about it the less clear things appeared to be, your clothes were all good placed, nothing from your bag disappeared, and not a single bruise was left on your skin. But a pretty face always seemed to be part of your foggy memories. Pale tone, dark hair, dark ey-

"Hey, what are you thinking about?" A strong voice made presence in your bedroom. Clouds evaporated your mind while your eyes followed his steps, closer to your bed. "Don't tell me you have a new guy." Your friend lightly chuckled.

"Oh, come on. I would have told you if that was the case." You joked with him, moving your hand in the air in front of you as a way of denying his assumptions.

"You know, if you need anything you can just tell me." He winked back, that grin he always had while trying to flirt with you, even though you couldn't count with the fingers of your hand how many times you have told him you weren't interested.

You rolled your eyes, holding back a frustated laugh. "Sure, sure." And by the time your eyes finished blinking to open back again, he grabbed you by your forearm, pulling you up and handing you that tight dress you said you'd be wearing for tonight. Just to go out with him to a random modern pub in the middle of the town. "Okay, I'll get going."

"Perfect, don't want us to be late."

Nodding your head while you stepped inside of your bathroom and closing the door behind you, you sighed. Your makeup was already done, so all that was left was getting dressed. The main reason you were going out past midnight was only him, he asked you to go together, enthusiastic. So you couldn't bring yourself to reply with a single no to your childhood friend, and here you were.

Loud music banged your head, the mix of the alcohol and a bunch of people wasn't as a great idea as your friend told you. His hand was already around your waist, his lips closer than they ever were and on the current state nothing was seen like a bad action anymore.

"Should have stayed at your apartment, hm?" You ears barely understood his slurred speech, and if he was like that, yours was probably the same since both of you drank exactly what the other one orderer.

"But we're having fun, so I gues- Oh! It's him! I think it's him!" Your eyes widened, quickly pulling away from your drinking partner and pushing people on your way to reach for that tall guy.

You were able to hear the calls of your name, not paying much attention to him. Once that handsome looks were in front of you again, you reached for his arm, his jacket between your fingers. And you were met with a surprised stare. "Do you-" He cough, trying to get away from your grip. "I think you got the wrong person."

You blinked your eyes a few times while you took in all of his traits, you remembered that moles, the way his lips moved and the way they got closer and closer to your neck.

No.

They weren't getting closer to you, he was indeed trying to run away from you, waiting for the moment in which you let his jacket go. But you could swear they got closer at you at some point.

You shook your head, looking up into his eyes. "You're the guy from that night! What did you do to me? I can't remember anything, you must have drugge-!"

This time his fingers were the ones pressing against your body, to your mouth, covering it before your screams continued. Screams that were saying something he didn't even do to you. "You are drunk, think before you accuse me of doing such thing." He furrowed his brows, holding your stare. His eyes made you want to trip and fall all over him, who wouldn't want that? But there was something else apart from that frustation gaze over you, or perhaps it was just your drunk self trying to see things. Either way, you sensed a bit of fear in them.

A fist crossed between your bodies, hitting 'hard' against his chest. Reactions very different from one side to the other, a small grunt from the guy and a few messed up words from part of your friend, who you didn't know how he got to you in the first place. And finally the people around of you doing an 'oooh', loud enough to catch the stares of what you supposed was a bouncer. Big shoulders approaching towards the three of you and kicking you out like if he was throwing away a feather from his clothes.

"I did nothing! He was harrassing my girl, yeah, that was what he was doing!" Your friend claimed, shouting at the bouncer under the tired eyes of the other guy, arms crossed in front of his chest, not even attemption to touch you.

The bouncer left, leaving you three out in the cold of the night. "I'm not your girl." You mumbled, pointing a finger at your male friend.

He replied with a groan, shrugging his shoulder, completely changed demeanor. "Weren't saying the same back there." A hand placed on your hips, dangerously getting closer to your buttock.

You were quick enough to grab it before he could actually squeeze it, pulling it up and then off your body. "It wasn't like that. I didn't... Just forget about it." Your voice lowered, not feeling that comfortable to speak with him again about the theme in which he was so persisent, even most of your female friends told you to stop hanging out with him.

During a normal day, he would have backed up, laughing away the situation and not mencioning it for at least a whole day. But tonight wasn't the case. He took hold of your arm, keeping you close to him and tilting his chin up a bit, towering over you. You tried to step back one more time, not wanting to engage into an argument with him or into whatever he was planning on doing. "We both know you really want it, stop acting like this."

His words were much more than your patience could take and a pull from your side was enough to make him do the same. With the slight difference that his was stronger. And with a wrong step on your high heels your knees ended up on the ground, he releasing you from his grip.

A figure grew quickly from the ground, the guy that before was sitting on the end of the street, feet touching the road and arms over knees, was now in front of you. He held a hand to you while giving you his back, facing your friend, making a shield between the two of you. "She doesn't want to, drop it."

"What the hell would you know?!"

"She just told you." He replied, helping you get up when you took his hand. "You're both drunk, just go to your house and eat something."

"I'm not gonna leave her alone with you, creep." You saw how the chest of your friend grew bigger from behind the guy's back, his hand still holding yours, not letting you go from his side.

"And I'm not gonna leave her alone with a drunk man either."

Five minutes after that, you three were at the bus stop, waiting for the night bus to arrive since none of you brought a car, direction to your house they said.

Your eyes slowly opened, a snore heard a few rooms away. You were at your apartment, the alarm clock marked past 5AM, an unusual hour to wake up.

The last thing you remembered from last night was you giving the unknown dude your keys because you weren't able to open your own door. So with a slow movement you sat up on your bed, your image on the mirror telling you that the dress was still on. The first steps after standing up always felt weird, even more now that your mind was between being drunk and having a hangover, but you made your way to the living room successfully.

"What are you doing awake?" A voice received you, his eyes fixated on you before you fully stepped out of the hallway.

"Could ask the same." You marked, leaning against the wall, eyes fighting to be completely open.

He cleared his throat, nervous, then moved his head towards the body of your friend lying on the couch, snoring. "Need to look after both of you, I don't know what he is capable of doing."

"But aren't you sleepy at all?" Your eyebrow raised, scanning him. He was sitting at the armchair next to the couch, one of his legs over his other knee and his phone between his hands.

"Not really." He simply stated. "But you should go back to sleeping."

"I'll go later, now I'm curious. What's your name?"

"Sunghoon."

A silence settled on the room after his answer, your arms crossing in front of you. "You didn't ask mine, so you already know." His lips parted, ready to speak up, but you started before. "I know you were the one from that night. I can hardly remember things, just speak up about what happened, you're literally on the living room of my home."

"I can't." He hesitated, looking away from your eyes.

"You can, or I'll go to the police, now I know your name."

"No need, I swear. I just..." His hands pushed back his hair, fingers between his dark locks. He sighed, shaking his head. "Hear me out, I really can't."

You stepped closer, ready to ask again, when a humming sound turned both of your stares towards your friend, sleeping. Taking a deep breath, you calmed yourself down. If he wanted to hurt you, you'd have already been hurt. So you ended up walking, looking down at him and grabbing his jacket from his arm, just like you did at the pub. He stood up, not bothering to put resistance when you guided him to the hallway. "Now explain." You whispered.

His expression was unpleasant, brows knitted just a little, shoulders rigid and his fingers expanding and contracting from time to time. "You wouldn't believe me, there's no sense in trying to explain. Now, please go back to sleep." He hissed the last sentence, his right hand forming a fist around the edge of his jacket.

"At least try it. All you're achieving like this is for me to get angrier."

He gulped, another shook, the front strands of his hair waving at the same pace.

The hand that left his jacket when you brought him to the hallway returned back to it, bringing him a bit closer, making him look at you. "Spit it out."

"Stop it." He snapped at you, holding your wrist back. "Are you that curious to know?"

"Yeah, I am. I want to know why the fuck I don't remember shit from a night and the last thing I saw was your stupid face."

"Good, because I'm hungry."

You turned into confussion, about to signal towards the kitchen when the hand previously on your wrist took your waist, turning you to have your back against the wall. He half crouched, the index finger of his other hand brushing over your knee, making you squirm, it hurt. Your mind connected dots, the only way of you to have a bruise there was the moment you fell in front of the pub's doors.

"Tasted so good last time. That idiot put to waste some of it." He whispered, complaining. And then he placed his pointer on the tip of his tongue, closing his eyes at the contact. Eyes widening, you tried to move, but his grip was too strong to fight back, so you submerged your own fingers in his hair. "I'm sorry." He muttered before the whole surface of his tongue licked up your bruised knee. Legs shaking at the feeling, and just to make it worse, sloppy wet kisses followed after the lick, each one higher up your inner thigh.

"W-what...?" The air inside of your lungs left you as your only word escaped your lips.

He grabbed your hips, keeping you pressed against the wall and slowly lifting your leg up to place it over his shoulder. "Keep your legs like that, I know it's not the most comfortable one, but it's been a time since I bit down here."

Your brain felt blank, no reaction, no words, no complains, just nods. And the beginning of a pool forming on your underwear.

"Don't scream, you'll wake him up. And I don't want any interruptions until I'm full." Another nod. The kisses transformed into him dragging his teeth over your skin, then soft nibbles, and at the end there were only two fangs digging on your inner thigh, making their way through blood vessels.

You pulled his hair, tears rolling down your cheeks and falling down on your chest, some of them ending at his scalp even. The effort you put into not separating your lips and cry out his name was huge. His fangs pulled out, the numbing feeling too obvious to pass unnoticeable, but his wet muscle now lapped over the two dots that you still hadn't seen. When his head raised and his eyes checked yours, the feeling of a sticky, wet trail went down your thigh until it reached the floor.

His finger cleaned the blood trail, sucking on it after bringing it to his mouth and pulling it out making a 'pop' noise. His thumb reaching out for the inner part again and slowly massaging where he bit the previous seconds. "You wouldn't have believed me." He murmured, keeping it quiet as well to not wake up the sleeping drunk at the couch.

Speechless, you looked down at the two marks, slowly healing in front of your eyes. "Why-" You stopped, breath hitching because of the crying from before. "Why I don't remember anything?"

"Do you think you'd have slept fine if you knew there were bloodsuckers all around at night, searching for someone in the dark to sink their teeth?" Eyes still down, you shook your head, no verbal response to his question. "Then that's why."

"How? I mean, yeah. How? Why are you a... vampire?"

"I was turned into one, that's the main reason."

"No, but- None of this makes any sense."

He scoffed. "I know." Getting up from the floor and wrapping his hands around both of your sides to help you stand up in front him. You mentally thanked him, he was the one who made your leg numb.

"So, you were there to bite someone?" You questioned him, keeping one of your hands over his shoulder to wait until you felt your limb again.

"Eat. Don't say it like that, if I wasn't hungry I wouldn't do it."

"But it's what you do."

"I don't care. I just do it to eat, it's not like I can choose to stop doing it. I tried starving myself the night I saw you, I feel better knowing you don't remember how it started."

Head tilting to the side and frowning, you asked him. "Why would you starve yourself?"

He ran his fingers through his hair one more time. "I tried to. But now I know it doesn't work at all." You just stared back at his face, as if telling him to keep explaining it. "I couldn't hold it back. I ended up biting the first person that crossed past the street, you." His factions were almost disgusted, probably at himself. "I mean, it's your nature. We all have to eat, like you like to say it, you just do it differently."

"You thought I was trying to rape you." He spat out, looking at your eyes for a moment, his breath shaky. "Each time I've done it I get them to forget the sick part where they are bitten by someone that they think it's just a human. But I was so out of my damned mind that I couldn't do it right to you."

"Hey, hey. Calm down." Your hand landed softly over his shoulder, pointing to the living room with your head.

He sighed, nodding, but still freaking out about it. "You don't get it. What if one day I lose complete control?"

"You won't." You tried to reassure him, not too sure of what to say. The way his eyes looked so desperate made your heart ache for some reason still unknown. All you knew about this guy was his name, and that he was a vampire. "You can... you can bite me whenever you need it."

His eyes widened in shock, looking for any sign of regret in your words.

"Thank you."

Your nails were digging on the fabric of his sweatpants while his lips pressed against the inner part of your forearm. It had been almost two weeks since you promised to let him feed from your own blood, and here he was, last week was the same, maybe a little more uncomfortable.

"Ready?" Sunghoon asked in a low tone, the warmth of his breath mixing with your wet skin from his saliva. You nodded, the grip on his pants tightening, preparing yourself for the weird feeling. And sharp fangs perfored you again, in a new spot. The marks from the last times were already gone, it was true that thanks to him even the bruise you had on your knee from that fall healed in just two days.

With eyes closed, you gulped. Blood pumping faster through your veins at the anxiety you started to feel due to holding back the whines your throat wanted to release. He made a soft noise, vibrating over your forearm, letting you know that he was feeling it as well. Your belly flooded with butterflies at his sound, not able to keep biting down on your lower lip and letting out a cry. And after a first one, the rest just came out.

One of his hands reached down to brush his thumb on your palm, moving your hand as his lips continued sucking blood out of your body to finally interwind his fingers with yours, now your nails switched to dig on his hand instead of the fabric.

Having you like that, he lasted a little more than a minute until his fangs were dragged out of the flesh, cleaning any drop that fell out. "Look at me, are you doing alright?"

His words made you lift your eyelids, meeting with his gaze between a courtain of tears that accumulated on your eyes. Your lips closed as quickly as you remembered the situation, cheeks flushed while thinking about how he heard all of your whimpers. With a squeeze on your hand, he used his free one to wipe the tears that clouded your vision. The vampire looked so immersed in his world, taking care of you, your body leaned forward on its own without giving you any time to rethink about it. A peck planted on his lips.

Before you knew how it happened, he was pulling you on top of his hips, holding your thighs for you to straddle him as the kiss deepened, letting you taste the weird iron flavor from your blood. You broke the contact after almost a whole minute, breathless. His eyes opened for the first time since your kissing session had begun. "Is this your way of telling me to go gentler? Because I really like it." He joked, hard breathing too.

A giggle from your part filled the living room. "Always making me cry."

"Next time I should try not making you spill a single tear. But for today it's enough. And you should actually go and have some check-ups. I'm worried you might develop anemia."

"What if they ask me questions, huh?" You raised a brow, a grin growing on the corner of your lips.

"I don't know, just say you donated blood." He shrugged back at you, same smile forming on his face now.

"Donated indeed. You should start to pay me for being a personal pantry."

"You offered first." He excused himself, teasing you. "But I guess I could take you out to a café. You eat, I eat."

"Don't try buying me. I accept, though."

You were sure a few of the waiters looked at the two of you a bit weirded out, but it wasn't like he could do anything about it. While you finished telling your order Sunghoon only denied politely when they asked him if he wanted anything. And the moment he paid for your sweet snacks and drink, maybe they had the concept of a sugardaddy in their minds.

"Can't you like... I don't know, maybe drink a juice?" You asked him, turning slightly on the front passager's seat in his car to look at him.

He shrugged. "Don't think so." He replied, eyes on the road in front of him. "Last time I tried it was a few years ago and it only gave me bellyache. Plus I don't feel like it."

"That's true! Don't you have cravings of things you ate before?"

"Not really." Sunghoon smirked, eyeing at your face through the corner of his eyes. "All the cravings I've been getting lately were your blood."

Your cheeks blushed ever so slightly, body squirming on the seat to try and hold the wave of electricity that crossed your four limbs thanks to his words. "Shut up. Is that your way of flirting, Mr. vampire?"

Sunghoon chuckled, holding the steering wheel a bit tighter under your teases. "You don't like it? Or you just need more pick-up lines?"

"Show me what else you've got." You said, half of a grin forming on the side edge of your lips.

He cleared his throat, exaggerating his cough. "So, are you a blood moon? Because each time you appear I get so hungry for you."

A gasp escaped your mouth, turning into a little scoff later. "Okay, okay. I get it." You continued laughing, moving your hand in the air to tell him to stop. "You can eat whenever we arrive to your apartment."

"Maybe we can try a new place this time."

You raised your brow. "New place?"

"Yeah, like I have already done it on the neck, thigh, and both forearms." He explained, the closer hand to you confidently reaching your knee to trail his fingertips on your expossed skin. "Where else should we try?"

You got shivers all over your leg, but mostly right where his fingers touched. "I don't know." You almost murmured, eyes focused on the way his hand roamed. "Where do you think it's a good place?" You really tried to sound as calm as possible, but your speech betrayed you.

The little giggle of Sunghoon made the shivers expand to the rest of your body, his palm now pressing down instead of just the tip of his fingers. "I need take a look first, hm? Just to decide the most appetising."

Between the talking, after he showed you his bedroom, you couldn't keep your lips to yourself any longer. And it seemed that he couldn't either. The build up tension from the ride in his car made it all explode when he sat at the edge of his bed, pulling you towards him.

His kisses traveled towards your collarbone, nibbling softly at the most fleshy parts. He grabbed the hem of your top, rising it so slow it could kill you. "Do I have permission?" The whisper made you nod instantly, legs shaky at each side of his thighs.

The sound of his breath just got heavier with every time your hips went down to met up with his on a slight brush. Rushed hands pulled your upper part over your head and threw it on the side of his bed, ready to do the same with your bra, you stopped him by kissing his lips.

Sunghoon kept his hands on your sides, sliding up and down over the exposed skin in front of him. "Lemme take it off." He murmured, pulling away just enough to let his words land on your face instead of in your mouth.

Too immersed to say something back, you grabbed his hands, bringing them to your back to undo the bra. "Not fair." You pointed at his sweater once the straps your underwear were around his fingers, not long after laying next to your top.

"You can do whatever you want, sweetheart. So quit that pout and start acting." He smirked back at you, leaning back while resting on his palms.

Heat burned your cheeks while your nipples hardened because of the lack of cover. But you didn't care enough to try and hide them from him, just like he did to you, you took off his sweater and t-shirt all at once. "You go to the gym, don't lie to me." Eyes wandering along his tonned arms and down to his abdomen.

"Maybe." He laughed it off, already bringing his hands to your waist when you placed yours on his thighs, throwing your knees to the floor of his apartment.

A hard swallow from his part was obvious, short nails burying on his bedsheets at the sound of his zip going down and the unbuttoning of his pants. Doe eyes looked up at him, licking your lower lip before grabbing the elastic of his underwear. "Do I also have permission?"

His reply began with a huff, bitting down the tip of his tongue while he took a deep breath. "Don't tease."

"I'm just asking, Hoon. Being kind is teasing?"

"Go down already or I'll do it myself."

"Yes, sir."

With a last grin, you finally pulled his boxers down enough to release his already throbbing member. Testing the waters first with the tip, you gave it kitten licks, followed by a long one from his base to the top. And then took it.

Some minutes passed that felt like hours for him and his head tilted backwards with eyes closed was the last thing you saw before being yanked up by your hair, getting a little whine from you. His hands reached for your armpits to lift you from the puffy carpet, throwing you to the edge of the bed. "Second drawer." He directed you, signaling towards the right nightstand.

Your body crawled until opening it, a package of condoms in it. You grabbed two and tossed them to the pillows, closing the drawer afterwars.

He returned to your side, fully nude, and pinned you down to his sheets by your hips. "Seems like I ain't the only one that knows how to suck." A smirk formed on his face, eyes devouring your lips. "I'll keep it in mind for the future."

Your shy smile was all he got in return, a little blush tinting your cheeks.

"Oh don't look at me like that." Sunghoon's voice lowered, scoffing as he extended his arm to grab one of the condoms and throwing it on your chest. "Keep the hard work, you want a reward after, right pretty?"

Holy heavens you wanted a reward if he said it in that tone. Quickly you started to flip the the plastic square on your hands, trying to open it by one of its corners safely. So focused on your task that you only realized that he had went down your body when your pants slipped down your thighs and later your ankles.

Soft fingertips rubbed against the stained fabric of your underwear, and as a reflex your legs closed around his hand.

"Open." He simply stated, waiting for you to obey. And while the condom fell next to you on the bed, your legs spread again. "Now keep 'em like that. I don't like repeating myself."

You were about to nod but instead his sudden pull of your panties stole a gasp from you, not long after his lips wandered over the soft flesh of your thighs until they reached between your folds. He was definitely enjoying your hands grabbing his dark locks and hearing moan after moan coming out of your mouth.

His tongue flickered on your clit from time to time, he could tell how good it felt by how your hips searched for his wet muscle every time he changed to your entrance, and yet Sunghoon was still teasing you only.

"Fuck, stop that." You whined back to him, complaining about his lack of care at the swollen bundle of nerves.

And just like that his head raised from between your legs. "You should stop being so goddamn greedy." His words were accompanied by a small smack at your thigh. "Is this what you wanted me to do? Stop, huh?"

Your hands ached as you kept them now fisting the sheets of his bed, you were fighting your urge to do the work by yourself, but the need for him was greater. So you shook your head, looking up at his eyes with puppy ones.

"What should you have said then, hm?"

"Please..."

"Please what? Something else, right?"

"Keep going, please. I want more."

His cocky smile returned, hands caressing up and down your legs. "That's more like it." He whispered and lowered himself again, this time pressing his middle and ring fingers against your slit. "Gonna quit the bitchy acting if I give it to you?"

Your moans mixed with the soft voice in which you replied to him. "I promise."

And with that the vampire nodded, taking his fingers out of you and holding them closer to your mouth while his other hand grabbed the half opened condom wrapper. Your task was pretty clear, wasn't it? So you did your best to leave them clean before he put the protection on himself.

"Turn. Hold the pillow, I want that ass up." How could you disobey.

It didn't take long for you to be barely keeping yourself together while crying face deep into the pillow, last of both yours and his worries how stained it would be with your messed mascara. He didn't even gave you time to adjust when his hips started with this sickening pace, and he still continued with the same power.

Low groans that transformed into whines sometimes were all you could hear from his part, too focused on hitting that sweet spot he found a few minutes ago and that was making you see stars.

You turned your head to the side, taking a deep breath of warm air, yet cooler than the one you had been fighting to breath with your face burried. "Close. Hoon, 'm there." Was all you said before feeling his body leaning down, one of his fingers rubbing you between your legs as his fangs brushed against your nape.

"Let go, pretty."

It all turned dark, even his pants were muted after the orgasm. The only thing you could feel was his length pushing through your clenching walls, he was fucking you throughout it, and it was like heaven until you came back to your senses and overstimulation hit you like a train.

"Sunghoon!" Your cry also brought him back to reality, seeing your trembling thighs holding your weight up and the mess that dripped down one of them.

His broken moans followed his own rhythm, pushing your limits as you kept half crying his name. So he finally pulled out, turning you around in a swift to leave your back on the mattress.

"We're not done yet, see?" He mumbled, strocking himself twice in front of your tired gaze, which only got a soft hum from your part. "Oh, come here. I promise to draw one more from you as well."

Sunghoon's hands then grabbed you by your armpits, lifting you and while he moved over the bed to rest his back against the headboard, he positioned you straddling his hips. Pushing it back in the moment he got you there.

"Try bouncing, don't think too much about it." He cooed and you started. It was slow due to how tired you felt, but each time your body went down his tip kissed your insides so delightfully. And you couldn't help but rest your forehead on his shoulder. "That's it, just like that. But raise your head, lemme see you."

One of his hands did it for you, cupping your cheek to then wipe away the mix of tears and smeared mascara. Oh God he couldn't look prettier right now, brushing his thumbs all over your face while his lips inched closer to yours, just to pull you into a long tender kiss that lasted until you broke it to catch some oxygen.

But his lips trailed down, leaving wet kisses all the way to the upper part of your breast. With his other hand he supported your hips, helping you go up and down around him and from time to time he moved it to your front, circling his finger over your clit. "Feels good?"

"Yeah." You breathed out, eyes struggling to remain open.

"Focus on that, alright?"

A loud gasp filled his room. His fangs digging on the soft flesh of your breast made you pull on his hair, scratch his back and bite down on your lower lip. He sucked, his hand leaving your face to hold your thigh as well, making you bounce with ease while keeping the other entertained with your bud. And just like that he had you there again, the only difference being that now he was also reaching his climax with you. You felt his member twitching surrounded by pulsating gummy walls, and the next thing was lips peppering your freshly bitten skin with pecks.

His gentle smile found you after slowly opening your eyes, arms hugging you against his body for you to hide into the crook of his neck.

"I'll clean this mess including you later, for now get some sleep." Sunghoon mumbled, leaving a kiss on the top of your head. "But no makeup next time, princess."

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harmoonix · 8 months ago

Text

Evening Astrology💜

✨️If everyone feels fucked up these days, an eclipse is coming very soon and at this point eclipses are more annoying than Mercury Retrogade. So things will go crazy ✨️ xd

Mercury in the 12th house natives can understand things that others don't, and that makes them more authentic

Mercury in Libra or Cancer can really understand how it feels to be the neddy of a person and, at the same time, trying to understand how relationships work

Because Venus is the most lustful planet, Venus in the 5th/7th/12th houses tend to really expose their desires pretty early in a relationship

Lacking earth placements in a chart can be an indicator for lacking stability, in all topics. I know how it is so bad, my only earth placement in my chart is my Capricorn Sun..Because planets are rarely in earth signs during January, so yeah, it makes sense 😭😭

Let's also talk about how Aquarius Risings can't do a proper 7th house persona chart since their 7th house is ruled by the Sun, which does not have its own persona chart. But it's fine because persona charts are something only pop astrologers use, we are safe from that shit

Have you guys seen that every time you have planets in transit with your 6th house, you tend to get sick or feel unwell? Especially if Mars transits your 6th house

Venus in the 10th house also Scorpio/Taurus/Libra in the 10th house tend to be sexualized a lot..at work, in the public...by strangers

Gemini Moons/Venus,are so good to hang out with like they have that type of good humor but also that chill in them. Appreciation to them

Mars is so harsh - talking in Gemini, since Mars is a violent planet and Gemini rules over the talking and communication can really create natives with more anger in their talk and may have a tendency to scream a lot same to Mars in the 3rd house

Sun/Moon/Rising in Taurus can be prone to be good financially , but if they are harsh - aspecting, they can get greedy about money

Sometimes, Sagittarius Placements will know the truth about a situation and will hide it from you until you see it with your own eyes. Well, unless Sagittarius Mars shows up

Lilith in your 10th house or Capricorn can have lots of family trauma especially with the father, I know some of them that have even been bullied or judged by their fathers

Cancer/Moon in the 7th house placements are so good if you are into those more sensible/soft/romantic/quiet partners applying to both genders

Gemini and Sagittarius will make their presence known in a group by talking the loudest 😭 especially screaming in your face!! I did hear youuuu

Mercury in Air signs, in my opinion, type messages so fast. Like you send them a message, they reply the next second.. I love faster replies too

Aquarius Venus,in a way like to maintain their relationship healthy/good because they don't really have time for all the drama

Venus in the 6th house can give a busy partner/overworking, you can feel like you spend less time together because of the work you do

Mercury trine/sextile/conjuct Sun opens the creative side of the native more easily when in square or opposite gives a stressful time for the native to find their creative side

You may not get along with people who have their LIlith sign in the same house as your SUN (Tested this for me is 100% true) Makes you total enemies, fighting to death

In a trio of friendship won't work if someone between you 3 has bad aspects to their 11th house ruler can be an indictor that may feel out of that friendship

Jupiter in the 1st house makes you to improve your knowledge over things, makes you wiser with the age, spiritual, empath (really depends on the Jupiter sign)

Sabrina Carpenter has a Libra mars, a good indicator that she can be really impatient with her lovers and relationships, she may also try to be the dominant one but may fail to do that

Neptune/Chiron/Saturn in the 1st house natives can often have skin issues, allergies, maybe even different skin conditions, sensitive skin placements

Mercury in the Aries/Sagittarius/Virgo/Scorpio/Capricorn tend to talk dirty a lot, especially if Mercury sits in their 3rd/7th or 11th houses of communication

North Node in your 1st house is such a self - discovery placement. You really need to discover who you really are. Without falling for what others say or think about you

Pluto in the 1st house natives these natives may often struggle with the control, even with taking control in their lives sometimes

Pluto in the 11th house, talks about really intense relationships with people within your friends group or whenever you meet someone. You just feel intense

I don't like how people talk about Sagittarius Venus, I heard people saying that is a bad Venus sign?? Well, it is ruled by Jupiter, so i do not consider this Venus specifically being bad, just like Pisces Venus.

Something very funny about Virgo Venus is that they won't show that they're in love unless the other person shows that. Is like they wait for the other person to say 'I love you' first

Mercury in the 6th/11th houses can be good activists/using their voice to help others, this like a collective helping placement

If you have your ascendant ruler in the sign of Pisces, you really tend to be an empath. This lover energy surrounding you

Harsh aspects between Lilith and Moon or Venus can indicate that the native may struggle to feel compassion/feelings/emotions sometimes

Sun in the 8th house can talk about knowing other's people secrets/privately knowing something good or bad about a specific person

Having North Node in the 3rd house can talk about having the power to adapt and change, and mental growth is important for them

Sagittarius Risings can sometimes be lucky without even realizing that. As a sign of them not paying attention to their luck

Ascendant square Venus can have a hard time to love themselves, which is totally fine because self-love should be learned step by step, not overnight

Having Neptune close to your Sun or Ascendant can make you to ignore your beauty/to make illsuions about it, soemtimes to create a dislike feeling. Everyone is beautiful in their own ways x Neptune is messing up with the mind sometimes

Having little to no aspects to your Midheaven can indicate struggling to find a career or a good job for you. Being indecisive about it.

🤎🍂 Hope you all have a beautiful evening x🤎

~Harmoonix 🤎🤎🤎

#astrology #evening #astro observations #birth chart #astro notes #astrology observations #placements #astro community #horoscope #ascendant #venus #astroblog #astro.com #astro seek #astrologers #astronote

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solxamber · 3 months ago

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Hi Sol! Hope your having a good February so far!

Could I get a: Leona, Romantic with Shivers by Ed Sheeran?

Happy early Valentine's day!

"Like my soul's on fire" || Leona Kingscholar

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠: Shivers by Ed Sheeran

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 650

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: Happy Ending, Realization of feelings

Leona Kingscholar doesn’t chase things.

The world has always handed him its expectations, its disappointments, its half-hearted praises wrapped in thinly veiled insults. He’s learned to shrug it all off—to take only what he needs and sleep through the rest.

But then there’s you.

And Leona doesn’t chase, no—but he follows.

Because when you burst into his life, wild and restless, dragging him by the wrist into whatever chaos you’ve concocted this time, he finds himself moving before he can think. He groans, he complains, he calls you a menace—yet he always follows.

And it should irritate him. The way you throw yourself into things with no plan, no hesitation. The way you insist on midnight road trips with no destination, on dancing under flickering neon signs, on sneaking onto rooftops just to stare at the sky. It should be exhausting, annoying—

But damn it, you make his blood burn.

And Leona, for all his grumbling, has never felt more alive.

Tonight, it’s the city. You’re out past a reasonable hour, the streets buzzing with life, headlights flashing against wet pavement. There’s a chill in the air, but you barely seem to notice, too caught up in whatever scheme has taken hold of you this time.

Leona leans against the hood of his car, watching you with that lazy half-smirk that does nothing to hide the heat in his gaze.

“Tell me there’s a plan,” he drawls, even though he already knows the answer.

You flash him a grin, eyes alight with mischief. “Where’s the fun in that?”

And of course, he should’ve known. You live for the rush, for the spontaneity, for the feeling of wind whipping through your hair as you take a leap without looking. And the worst part?

You make him want to jump too.

Before he knows it, you’ve grabbed his hand, tugging him forward. And for all his complaints, he doesn’t resist.

He never does.

Hours blur together—bright lights, laughter, stolen kisses in the shadows of alleyways. Leona doesn’t remember the last time he let himself have fun, not like this. Not in a way that didn’t feel like a performance, like something expected of him.

But with you, it’s different.

With you, it’s easy.

You don’t want the prince. You don’t want the strategist, the second-born, the disappointment, the afterthought. You just want him.

And it terrifies him.

Because Leona has spent his whole life avoiding expectations he can’t meet, avoiding fights he can’t win. He never lets himself want things too much. It’s easier that way.

But then there’s you—laughing, warm, pressing close to him as the night lingers on—and he knows, deep down, that this is a battle he’s already lost.

It’s nearly dawn when you both end up somewhere quieter, the city still humming in the distance. You’re leaning against his shoulder, exhaustion finally catching up to you, but you’re smiling, your fingers lazily tracing patterns over the back of his hand.

Leona watches you, his mind a mess of things he’ll never say out loud.

You make him want things. You make him ache.

And then, in that quiet, reckless way of yours, you say, “Leona, let’s stay like this forever.”

His breath catches.

It’s a stupid thing to say. Impossible, even. Forever isn’t real—not for people like him, who have spent their lives being second place, almost-enough, not-quite-worthy.

But you look at him like you mean it. Like you really believe it’s possible.

And damn it all, maybe he wants to believe it too.

Leona exhales, pulling you closer, his lips brushing against your temple. “You sure you can handle forever with me?”

You tilt your head up, meeting his gaze, your smile soft but certain. “Try me.”

And Leona, who has spent his whole life avoiding the things he can’t win, decides—just this once—to stop running.

If this is a dream, he thinks, then he never wants to wake up.

Masterlist ; Valentine's Event

#ˋ°•*⁀➷ valentine's event #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #leona kingscholar x reader #leona x reader #twst leona #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x you #leona

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cami040405 · 20 days ago

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I’m about to become soooo annoying common in your reqs, it’s actually crazy >:)

Butbutbut, can I pls request Bo, Michael, and Brahms reacting to their (preferably fem) s/o getting flirted with by some rando?

Bo Sinclair, Michael Myers & Brahms Heelshire reacting to their S/O being flirted with by a random guy

Summary: Things sure got ugly, imagine Bo Sinclair, Michael Myers and Brahms reacting to seeing their S/O being flirted with by a random guy.

Warnings: Violence, mention of death and swearing;

A/N: Thank you very much for the request, you can request whenever you want, I'm flattered that you like my writing and that you will send more, I hope you liked it.

Bo Sinclair

“You flirt with fire, you get burned.”

It starts innocently enough—or at least, that’s what the guy thinks. You're minding your own business, maybe waiting at the counter of the gas station or browsing the front of the House of Wax when some out-of-towner decides you look like someone worth sweet-talking. He leans in with a cocky grin, probably dropping some lazy pickup line about your eyes or your smile, trying way too hard to be smooth.

You’re polite—because you’re not looking to cause a scene—but your body language says you’re not interested. The guy either doesn’t notice… or worse, doesn’t care. That’s his first mistake.

Bo notices immediately. He always notices. It doesn’t matter if he’s fixing a car out back or chatting up tourists—his eyes are always on you. You’re his. And seeing someone else try to put their hands, their eyes, or their dirty little intentions on you?

That flips a switch in him.

The sound of his boots hitting the ground gets heavier, more deliberate, as he makes his way toward you. You can practically feel the heat of his anger simmering before you even turn to see him. And when you do? That expression’s already carved into his face: jaw clenched, lips pressed into a crooked sneer, and those sharp blue eyes locked right on the guy.

“Somethin’ funny happenin’ over here?” he drawls, voice low, cool, and dangerous.

The flirter turns, probably trying to laugh it off, saying he didn’t know you were “with someone.” Bo lets out a short, humorless chuckle, stepping forward until there’s barely an inch of space between him and the guy.

“Didn’t know?” he repeats, tone dipped in venom. “You see a pretty face an’ decide you can just crawl up like a damn snake, huh? What—think you’re the first dumbass to try?”

Bo’s hand lands on your waist, firm and possessive, pulling you slightly behind him—not because he thinks you can’t handle yourself, but because he wants to handle this. The guy stammers something, suddenly sweating, looking up at a man who clearly has no problem making people disappear.

“You don’t get a second chance to walk away,” Bo warns, voice a gravelly whisper now. “Take the one I’m givin’ you.”

And if the guy still doesn’t get the message? Bo steps in closer, his voice going even lower, cold and intimate. “Next time you even think about puttin’ your eyes on what’s mine, I’ll take 'em outta your goddamn skull.”

The guy, sensing the tension in the air and the weight of Bo’s words, swallows hard and nods. “A-alright, man. Chill. I didn’t mean nothin’ by it…”

Bo doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t blink. Just watches him like a predator sizing up its prey. The guy backs off with one last glance in your direction—and Bo’s eyes follow him the whole way out of town.

Later, when you’re both alone again, Bo’s calm. Too calm. That crooked smile plays on his lips as he wipes a smudge of grease—or maybe something else—off his hands with an old rag.

“You know,” he says, voice low and casual as he rests an arm on the workbench, “some folks just don’t take a hint ‘til it’s driven into ‘em.”

You glance at him. “Bo… what did you do?”

He meets your eyes, unreadable, that lazy Southern drawl laced with something colder. “Just made sure he won’t be hangin’ around Ambrose again. Ever.”

He steps in close, fingers grazing your chin, tilting your face up to his with a quiet possessiveness.

“Don’t need eyes like his on you,” he murmurs. “Not when you’re mine.”

You never see that guy again. No one does. Maybe he skipped town. Maybe he got lost on the back roads. But you know better. Bo never just lets things go.

And in the quiet of the night, when his arms are around you and his breathing is steady, there’s an eerie comfort in the way he holds you. Not like a man afraid of losing you—but like a man who’s already proven he’d destroy anything that tried to take you away.

Michael Myers

You’d only stepped away for a moment—maybe to check your phone, maybe to grab something from a nearby counter—when some random guy sauntered up to you like he’d known you forever. He was loud, cocky, clearly under the impression that he had a chance. He leaned too close, his smile lingering too long, and even when you stepped back, he followed like a shadow.

You weren’t afraid, just annoyed.

But Michael?

Michael saw everything.

From the moment the guy set his eyes on you, Michael had already marked him. He stood motionless in the distance, his white mask stark against the shadows, dark eyes locked onto the interaction with eerie stillness. You might not have seen him yet—but the guy did.

And that's when things changed. The man’s flirty confidence cracked. His eyes darted over your shoulder, then widened, all the blood draining from his face as he took a half-step back. You turned to look.

Michael was there. Closer now. You didn’t hear him move. You never do.

Six-foot-something of pure, predatory silence. His shoulders were broad, the coveralls smeared with dried blood from some unlucky soul earlier in the day. And in his hand, casually hanging by his side, was the glint of his infamous kitchen knife.

The guy stammered, “Hey—uh��I didn’t know you were… I didn’t mean anything, I swear—”

Michael tilted his head slowly, like a wolf studying a mouse. Not rushing. Just... calculating. You, recognizing the look in his eyes, placed a hand on his arm. “It’s fine, Michael. He’s leaving.”

But it wasn’t fine. Not to Michael.

The guy ran—stupidly, predictably—but it was already too late.

Later, when you couldn’t find Michael anywhere nearby, you followed the trail of bent branches into the woods behind the place. You didn’t see the moment it happened—but if you had, you’d have seen Michael materialize from the darkness like a ghost, dragging the man into the trees with inhuman strength. No dramatic scream, no fight worth remembering.

Just a flash of silver. A wet sound. A gurgled plea.

And then silence.

By the time you found Michael again, he emerged from the shadows, blood staining the edges of his coveralls and knife. No explanation. None needed. He stopped in front of you, chest rising and falling slowly, calmly—offering no words, just watching your reaction.

There was no regret. No hesitation. He did it for you. Because someone touched what’s his.

And as terrifying as it should be…

A part of you felt protected.

Claimed.

Brahms Heelshire

You were just trying to enjoy a quiet moment out in the garden of the Heelshire estate—sunlight warm on your skin, flowers blooming sweetly around you—when a stranger strolled up through the gate. You didn’t recognize him, but he was young, cocky, clearly unaware of the danger he was walking into. Maybe he was a delivery guy. Maybe someone who got lost. Either way, he looked at you far too long, smirked a little too wide, and spoke with far too much confidence.

“Didn’t think I’d find someone this beautiful all the way out here,” he said, eyes raking over you. “You live here all alone?”

Before you could answer—or correct him—Brahms was already watching.

Hidden in the shadows behind the window, his mismatched eyes burned with fury. His fingers, covered in soot and paint, curled tightly around the edge of the drapes. He was always watching, but this… this was different.

This was insulting. This was infuriating. This was unforgivable.

The man didn’t even notice Brahms approach. You tried to warn him—your voice shaky, nervous—but it was too late.

Brahms stepped out of the shadows like something not quite human. His hair was disheveled, his porcelain mask perfectly still except for the deep shadows cast over his face. He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. His breathing was ragged behind the mask, filled with rage and anticipation.

“Who the hell is this freak supposed to be?” the man asked, scoffing.

That was his last mistake.

In a blur, Brahms launched at him, slamming the man against a stone pillar with inhuman strength. There was a sickening crack as the man’s head collided with the stone, but Brahms didn’t stop. Not even close. He growled, a deep, animalistic sound, and plunged a jagged garden tool—one of the rusted shears he’d left nearby—straight into the man’s side.

Again. And again. And again.

Blood splattered the roses, staining the petals deep red as Brahms leaned in, face-to-face with his victim, breath hot and wet through the slats of the mask.

“No one talks to her,” he hissed. “No one touches what’s mine.”

The man tried to scream, but Brahms silenced him with one final, brutal blow to the throat—crushing it until he went still. When it was done, he sat back on his heels, covered in blood, staring at the now lifeless body like it was a discarded toy.

Then he looked at you.

Despite the gore, the fury, the feral violence—you could see the insecurity flicker behind his mask. He rose slowly, coming toward you, hands trembling as he cupped your cheek, smearing blood across your skin. His voice was childlike and aching.

“You… you didn’t want him, right? You still want me?”

You nodded—shocked, breathless, a little terrified—and he melted against you, arms curling around your waist protectively. He buried his masked face in the crook of your neck, whispering over and over, “Mine… mine… mine…”

Later, he burned the body in the furnace beneath the house. You never saw it again.

But the roses stayed red for a long, long time.

180 notes · View notes

sturnsblogs · 17 days ago

Text

ITS THE WEED

Loser!Matt X Popular!Reader

Warnings) Smut w plot. Ice cube play (idk how to explain it). not established relationship.

—

You and Matt were supposed to have a “you day.” You even texted him that morning:

you: “can we hangout allllllll day?”

You already knew the face he made when he replied. Probably rolled his eyes, scoffing like he was annoyed even though you both knew he wasn’t.

matt: “nah. i think i’m gonna get high just chill.”

You stared at the screen for a second, your chest tightening in that stupid way it always did when he blew you off.

you: “k. wtv. i thought maybe you would wanna hangout with me but it’s fine.”

He stared at your message longer than he’d admit. Then, with a heavy sigh, he typed back:

matt: “otw.”

Twenty minutes later, he walked in through the front door like he always did, barely sparing a glance at your yelling parents in the background.

“Hey,” he said casually, dropping his bag on the floor as his eyes flicked up to your face. “No makeup?”

You shook your head and crossed your arms. “Call me ugly already, it’s fine.”

Matt raised a brow and set his stuff down on the table. “Chill. I didn’t say that. I was just asking.” Then, softer, “You look fine.”

You rolled your eyes, pretending not to feel the small flip in your stomach.

He unzipped a small pouch and started laying out his rolling papers and grinder, pulling the jar of weed from his bag. You walked over without thinking, and before he could say anything, you were climbing onto his lap, straddling his thigh and leaning in to watch what he was doing.

He tensed slightly but didn’t move. Just looked at you out the corner of his eye. “Comfortable?”

You rested your chin on his shoulder, peeking at the way his fingers moved skillfully over the paper. “Kinda.”

Your thighs pressed tighter around his as you adjusted, trying not to squirm—but you already felt too warm. Too aware of how close you were. His jeans rough against the soft skin of your inner thighs.

Matt didn’t say anything.

But he noticed.

He kept rolling slowly, licking the edge of the paper before sealing it and setting it down. You were still on his lap, still pressing against him every few seconds like you couldn’t help it.

He exhaled slowly through his nose, pretending not to look at how your fingers gripped his hoodie or how your thighs kept shifting against him. But he definitely noticed.

Still didn’t say anything.

But the corner of his mouth twitched—just barely.

Like he knew exactly what you were doing.

And he was gonna let you keep doing it.

NOW

You were tucked into Matt’s side, still sitting on his thigh, your legs draped over his as he lit the joint. The room smelled like him—woodsy cologne and faint weed—and the soft bass of a playlist you’d made was playing from your speaker in the background.

Matt leaned back against the headboard, exhaling slowly as he passed it to you.

“Here,” he said, voice low, calm. “Just a little. Don’t overthink it.”

You looked up at him nervously. “If I cough and die, it’s your fault.”

He smirked, lazily. “I’ll give a real sad eulogy. Promise.”

You rolled your eyes and took a small hit, trying to do it exactly how he showed you. But the second it hit your throat, you choked on the harsh burn, doubling over in a fit of coughs.

“Shit—” you wheezed, eyes watering, clutching your chest. “Matt, I hate you.”

Matt’s smirk dropped. “Alright, drama queen,” he mumbled, but he was already getting up, brushing your thigh gently as he stood. “Stay there.”

He came back not even a minute later with a glass of iced water, condensation dripping down the side. He handed it to you and knelt beside the bed, watching you carefully. “Sip slow.”

You took the glass, still coughing but grateful. “Thanks,” you muttered, voice raspy.

He stayed crouched there for a moment, looking up at you. “You good?”

You nodded, and he climbed back into bed beside you, arm wrapping around your waist like before. You scooted close again, this time with no hesitation, letting the warmth of him settle you.

“I feel weird,” you mumbled after a bit, voice still hoarse. “Floaty. Like I’m gonna melt.”

“You’re just high,” he said, voice soft, calm again. “Relax. You’re fine.”

You laid your head on his shoulder, the haze settling in like a heavy blanket. His fingers started tracing lazy shapes on your thigh, and you felt your legs tense. Your thighs pressed together, a slow, subtle reaction you couldn’t stop—and Matt noticed. You knew he did. But he didn’t say anything.

You peeked up at him. “Matt…”

“Yeah?”

“…you’re warm.”

He looked down at you with a lazy half-smile. “That’s what you’re going with?”

You shrugged, nestling closer. “Shut up.”

His hand moved again—this time over your thigh, the touch light, comforting. You didn’t move away.

“You’re really pretty when you’re not trying so hard,” he said after a long pause, voice low.

You blinked up at him, blinking slowly. “So I’m not pretty when I do?”

He smirked again. “Didn’t say that. Just… like this. No makeup, no fake laugh, no trying to prove anything. Just you.”

You didn’t answer. Your fingers found the fabric of his hoodie and curled there, holding onto it gently. His fingers kept moving, grazing slow across your thigh, and your breath caught for just a second—but you didn’t move.

Neither did he.

Your fingers stayed curled in the fabric of Matt’s hoodie, anchoring you as the haze of the weed deepened, wrapping your senses in a soft, heavy fog. The room felt smaller now, the air thick with his scent—woodsy cologne, faint weed, and something distinctly him. The playlist’s low bass thrummed in the background, syncing with the slow, steady rhythm of your heartbeat.

Matt’s hand on your thigh hadn’t stopped moving, but now his touch expanded, exploratory yet maddeningly light. His fingers trailed up your thigh, skimming over the sensitive skin before drifting to your hip, then along the curve of your waist. They brushed the exposed sliver of skin where your shirt had ridden up, sending a faint jolt through you. His touch wandered further—down your arm, across the back of your hand, then back up to the nape of your neck, where his fingertips grazed the soft hairline. Every movement was slow, deliberate, like he was mapping you out, testing your reaction without ever crossing into something more.

You felt it everywhere. The warmth in your core sparked and spread, a low, pulsing ache that made your thighs press together instinctively. Your breath grew shallower, and you tried to stay still, to act like his touch wasn’t unraveling you. But your body betrayed you—the subtle shift of your hips, the way your fingers tightened on his hoodie, the faint heat creeping up your neck. You didn’t dare meet his eyes, afraid he’d see the need written all over your face.

Matt noticed. You could tell by the way his fingers paused, just for a heartbeat, before continuing their lazy path across your skin. His breathing stayed even, but there was a shift in his posture—a slight tension, like he was hyper-aware of you now. His hand slid back to your thigh, higher this time, his thumb brushing the sensitive inner seam of your jeans, and a soft, involuntary whimper caught in your throat. You clamped your lips shut, praying he hadn’t heard it.

But the faint curl of his lips told you he had. He didn’t say anything, though. Didn’t push. Just kept up that slow, torturous touch—fingers grazing your lower back now, then skimming along your side again, each brush stoking the fire building inside you. He was waiting, you realized, giving you space to make the next move, to say something, anything, to break the unspoken tension hanging between you.

Your head was still resting on his shoulder, and you shifted slightly, pressing yourself closer, your legs shifting restlessly against his. The ache was unbearable now, and every nerve in your body was screaming for more, for him to do something, but you couldn’t find the words. Not yet. Your fingers dug into his hoodie, and you let out a shaky breath, hoping it sounded casual.

“Matt…” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper, testing the waters but not quite ready to dive in.

“Yeah?” His voice was low, calm, but there was an edge to it, like he was holding back.

You swallowed, heart pounding. “…You’re making it hard to think.”

His fingers stilled for a moment, resting lightly on your hip. He tilted his head slightly, looking down at you with that lazy half-smile, eyes darker now, searching yours. “That so?” he said softly, teasing but gentle. “You want me to stop?”

Your breath caught. You shook your head, just barely, cheeks burning. “No.”

His smirk deepened, but he didn’t move, didn’t escalate. His fingers resumed their slow, feather-light tracing, this time along the edge of your waistband, and you felt like you might combust. He was waiting for you to say more, to give him the green light, and the ball was firmly in your court.

Your breath hitched, the weight of Matt’s fingers still lingering on your waistband, each subtle brush of his touch sending sparks through you. The haze of the weed had you floating, amplifying every sensation—the warmth of his body against yours, the faint thrum of the playlist, the way his scent seemed to wrap around you. Your fingers, still curled tightly in his hoodie, trembled slightly as the ache inside you grew impossible to ignore.

You shifted closer, your legs brushing against his, and without overthinking it, you tilted your head, letting your lips graze the side of his neck. The touch was soft, tentative, a gentle kiss pressed just below his jaw. His skin was warm, slightly rough with the faintest hint of stubble, and you felt him tense under you, a quiet hitch in his breath.

Another kiss, slower this time, a little bolder, trailing up toward his pulse point. Your lips lingered, soft and deliberate, and you heard the low rumble of a laugh escape him—a warm, surprised sound that vibrated against your mouth.

“Bold move,” he murmured, voice low and laced with amusement, his head tilting slightly to give you more access, though you could tell he was still holding back, letting you set the pace.

You smiled against his skin, heart racing, and pressed another kiss, this one teasingly close to his earlobe. “You’re still warm,” you whispered, echoing your earlier words, your voice soft but carrying a playful edge.

Matt’s laugh came again, quieter now, more like a hum, and his hand tightened briefly on your hip, fingers digging in just enough to make you hyper-aware of his touch. “You’re trouble,” he said, but there was no bite to it—just that lazy, teasing tone that made your stomach flip.

You pulled back slightly, just enough to meet his eyes, your face inches from his. His gaze was darker now, heavy-lidded, the smirk still tugging at his lips but softened by something else—something careful, like he was still waiting for your signal. Your cheeks were burning, but the haze and the pull of him made you bold, made you want to push just a little further.

“You didn’t tell me to stop,” you said, voice barely above a whisper, your lips hovering near his jaw again, close enough to feel the warmth of his breath.

His smirk widened, and his hand slid up your side, slow and deliberate, fingers splaying across your ribcage. “Didn’t plan to,” he said, voice dropping lower, rougher now. “But you’re gonna have to say what you want, sweetheart.”

The nickname hit you like a spark, fanning the heat in your core. Your breath caught, and you leaned in again, lips brushing his neck once more, this time with a little more pressure, a little more intent. You felt him shift beneath you, his thigh pressing against yours, and the subtle movement sent a shiver up your spine.

“Matt…” you murmured, your lips grazing his skin as you spoke, not quite a question, not quite a plea, but enough to make his fingers twitch against your side.

He tilted his head, giving you a better angle, but his voice stayed steady, teasing. “Yeah? Use your words.”

You huffed softly, half-embarrassed, half-frustrated, and nipped lightly at his neck in retaliation, earning another low laugh from him. His hand slid to your lower back now, pulling you closer, your body pressed snugly against his. The shift made you hyper-aware of every point of contact—the heat of his chest, the firmness of his thigh under you, the way his fingers seemed to burn through your shirt.

“I want…” you started, but the words caught in your throat, your courage faltering under the weight of his gaze. You kissed his neck again instead, slower, letting your lips linger, hoping he’d take the hint.

Matt’s fingers traced a slow path up your spine, and he hummed, the sound vibrating under your lips. “with a hint of challenge in his tone. “You’re killing me here,” he said, but there was no mistaking the heat in his voice, the way he was letting you lead but meeting you halfway. “You gonna make me guess what you want, or you gonna tell me?”

His hand slid to your thigh again, higher now, his thumb brushing just close enough to the seam of your jeans to make your breath hitch. You felt the tension coiling tighter, the air between you electric, but he still didn’t push, didn’t cross that final line. He was waiting, patient but not passive, his touch a quiet challenge daring you to speak up.

Your lips lingered on Matt’s neck, the taste of his skin and the faint pulse beneath making your head spin. The weed’s haze had you teetering on the edge, every touch amplified, every breath heavy with want. His fingers, still tracing slow, deliberate paths along your thigh and spine, were driving you crazy, and the tension between you felt like it might snap. You pressed another kiss to his jaw, softer this time, but the ache in your core was unbearable now, a desperate need you couldn’t ignore.

A soft whine slipped from your lips, low and needy, as you shifted restlessly against him, your thighs squeezing together. “Matt…” you breathed, the sound almost a plea, your voice trembling with frustration and want.

His fingers stilled, and for a moment, you thought he’d tease you again, make you beg for it. But then you felt his body shift, his hand tightening on your hip as he let out a quiet, “Fuck, you’re gonna kill me with that.”

Before you could process his words, Matt moved. His hands slid to your waist, firm but gentle, and in one smooth motion, he shifted you off his lap and onto the bed, your back sinking into the soft mattress. He hovered over you, one knee braced between your legs, his eyes dark and heavy as they searched yours. The smirk was gone, replaced by something intense, almost reverent.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice low and rough. “I got you.”

He leaned down, his lips brushing your collarbone first, soft and deliberate, sending a shiver through you. His kisses were slow, unhurried, as he worked his way across your skin—down the curve of your neck, along the dip of your shoulder, then back to the sensitive spot just below your ear. Each kiss was gentle, but there was a weight to them, like he was savoring every inch of you. His hands followed, sliding under your shirt to graze your sides, his touch warm and grounding.

You squirmed beneath him, the ache in your core flaring hotter with every kiss, every brush of his lips. Your breath came in shallow gasps, and another soft whine escaped you as his mouth found the hollow of your throat, lingering there with a slow, open-mouthed kiss. “Matt…” you whimpered, your hands finding his shoulders, fingers digging into the fabric of his hoodie as you arched slightly toward him.

“Shh,” he murmured against your skin, his voice a soothing hum. “I’m right here.” His lips moved lower, kissing the exposed skin of your stomach where your shirt had ridden up, his breath warm and teasing. His hands slid to your hips, thumbs brushing just beneath the waistband of your jeans, and the sensation made your legs tremble.

You were needier now, the slow burn of his kisses only stoking the fire, not easing it. Your hips shifted instinctively, seeking more, and you tugged at his hoodie, a silent plea for him to do something, anything, to ease the ache. “Matt, please…” you whined again, your voice breaking, raw with want.

He paused, lifting his head to look at you, his eyes dark but soft, taking in your flushed cheeks and heavy breaths. “God, you’re beautiful like this,” he said, almost to himself, before leaning down to kiss you properly this time—his lips on yours, gentle but firm, tasting faintly of weed and mint. The kiss was slow, deliberate, but it sent a rush of heat through you, making you arch into him, your hands sliding into his hair.

When he pulled back, his lips brushed down your jaw again, then back to your neck, your collarbone, kissing every inch he could reach. His hands stayed steady, one sliding up to cup your side, the other gripping your hip to keep you grounded. But it wasn’t enough—you felt like you were unraveling, the need coiling tighter with every soft kiss, every teasing brush of his fingers.

“More…” you mumbled, barely coherent, your voice a needy whimper as you tugged at him again, hips lifting slightly off the bed.

Matt let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating against your skin as he kissed the curve of your ribs. “Greedy,” he teased, but his voice was thick, and his grip on your hip tightened, betraying his own restraint slipping. He didn’t push further, though, still keeping his touches soft, his lips worshipful, waiting for you to set the pace, to tell him exactly how far you wanted this to go.

Matt’s lips were still tracing slow, reverent kisses across your skin, each one sending shivers racing through you. His mouth lingered at the curve of your collarbone, then dipped lower, brushing the sensitive skin just above your stomach. The weed’s haze amplified everything—the warmth of his breath, the graze of his fingers along your sides, the way his touch seemed to burn through your clothes. Your body was a live wire, every nerve humming with need, and the ache in your core was so intense it was almost painful.

You whimpered again, a soft, desperate sound, your fingers tugging at his hoodie as you arched beneath him. “Matt, please…” you breathed, voice trembling, barely holding together.

He lifted his head, eyes dark and heavy as they met yours, a flicker of amusement mixing with the heat in his gaze. “So needy,” he murmured, voice low and rough, but there was no mockery in it—just a quiet awe, like he was seeing you in a new light.

Then, without warning, he shifted, pressing his knee forward, slotting it firmly between your legs. The pressure hit your core, right where you needed it most, and a sharp, involuntary whimper tore from your throat. The sensation was electric, a jolt of relief and torment all at once, and your hips bucked instinctively, chasing more. Your thighs clamped around his knee, trying to hold him there, but the movement only made you squirm harder, the friction sending sparks through your already fraying nerves.

“Fuck,” you gasped, voice barely coherent, your hands flying to his shoulders, fingers digging into the muscle beneath his hoodie. Your body moved on its own, grinding faintly against his knee, desperate for more, but it wasn’t enough—not nearly enough.

Matt’s breath hitched, and you felt his grip on your hip tighten, his fingers digging in just enough to keep you grounded. He didn’t pull back, didn’t ease up, keeping his knee pressed firmly against you as he watched your reaction, eyes flickering with something darker, hungrier. “That what you needed?” he asked, voice a low rumble, teasing but laced with tension, like he was barely holding himself back.

You couldn’t answer, not with words. Another whine slipped out as you squirmed again, your hips rolling against his knee, the pressure sending waves of heat through you. Your head tipped back, exposing your throat, and Matt took the invitation, leaning down to kiss the sensitive skin there, his lips soft but deliberate. His kisses trailed lower, brushing the dip of your neck, then back up to your jaw, each one stoking the fire in your core.

His knee shifted slightly, pressing harder, and you moaned softly, the sound raw and unfiltered. Your fingers slid into his hair, tugging lightly, and you felt him groan against your skin, the vibration making you tremble. “Matt…” you whimpered, your body a mess of need, squirming relentlessly now, chasing the friction, the relief, anything to ease the ache.

“God, you’re killing me,” he muttered, his voice rougher now, his lips brushing your collarbone again as his hand slid up your side, thumb grazing just beneath your bra. He didn’t push further, though, still keeping that careful balance, his knee a steady, torturous pressure against your core. He was giving you just enough to drive you wild but not enough to tip you over the edge, waiting for you to ask for more, to set the pace.

Your hips bucked again, harder this time, and another desperate whimper escaped you, your nails digging into his shoulder. The need was overwhelming now, consuming, and every kiss, every shift of his knee, made you feel like you might unravel completely.

Matt’s knee stayed pressed against your core, the steady pressure driving you to the edge of sanity as you squirmed beneath him, whimpering with every subtle shift. His lips were still on your neck, kissing slow and deliberate, each touch sending fresh waves of heat through you. The haze of the weed made every sensation sharper, your body a live wire under his hands. Your fingers clung to his hoodie, tugging desperately, and your hips rolled against his knee, chasing relief that stayed just out of reach.

“Matt…” you whined again, voice breaking, raw with need. The sound seemed to snap something in him, his grip on your hip tightening as he pulled back slightly, eyes dark and searching yours.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice low and gravelly, thick with want. “Let’s take care of you.”

His hands moved to the hem of your shirt, fingers brushing your skin as he looked at you, silently checking in. You nodded, breathless, and he tugged the shirt up and over your head, tossing it aside. His gaze flickered over you, lingering on the soft curve of your bra, and you felt your cheeks burn under the intensity of his stare. His hands slid to the waistband of your jeans next, deftly unbuttoning them, and you lifted your hips to help as he peeled them off, leaving you in just your bra and panties.

Matt’s breath hitched, his eyes raking over you, dark and reverent, like he was seeing something sacred. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, almost to himself. “You’re gorgeous.”

You squirmed under his gaze, the cool air hitting your bare skin only amplifying the ache in your core. Your hands reached for him, tugging at his hoodie, but he caught your wrists gently, pinning them above your head with one hand. “Not yet,” he teased, a smirk tugging at his lips, though his voice was strained, betraying his own slipping control.

His free hand reached for the glass of iced water still sitting on the bedside table, the condensation dripping down its side. He fished out an ice cube, holding it between his fingers, and your eyes widened, breath catching as you realized what he was about to do. “Matt—” you started, but the words dissolved into a gasp as he brought the ice cube to your collarbone, the cold shock making you arch off the bed.

“Shh,” he murmured, voice soothing but commanding, his lips brushing your jaw as he dragged the ice slowly across your skin. The contrast of the freezing cube against your overheated body was overwhelming, a sharp, delicious sting that made you tremble. He trailed it down the center of your chest, between the swell of your breasts, watching your reaction with a focus that made your core throb.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, your hips bucking instinctively as the ice slid lower, over the soft skin of your stomach. The cold left a wet trail, and Matt followed it with his lips, kissing the chilled skin, his warm breath a maddening contrast. Your hands strained against his grip, desperate to touch him, but he held them firm, his control unwavering.

He moved the ice to the edge of your bra, teasing along the lace, and you moaned softly, the sound raw and needy. Your body was a mess of sensation—the cold, the heat of his mouth, the ache between your thighs growing unbearable. He dragged the ice across your ribcage, then up to the sensitive skin just below your navel, and you squirmed harder, thighs pressing together as the need coiled tighter.

“Matt, please…” you whined, voice trembling, your body arching toward him, begging for more. The ice was melting now, dripping cold water onto your skin, and he let it linger at the waistband of your panties, the chill sending a jolt straight to your core.

He chuckled softly, the sound low and teasing, as he kissed the wet trail on your stomach. “So impatient,” he murmured, but his hand finally released your wrists, sliding down to grip your hip instead. The ice cube was nearly gone, but he pressed what was left against the sensitive skin just above your panties, making you gasp and buck again.

You were needier than ever, the cold and his slow, deliberate touches driving you to the brink. Your hands flew to his hair, tugging lightly, and you arched into him, whimpering as the ache in your core pulsed harder. “Matt, I can’t…” you mumbled, voice barely coherent, desperate for him to do something, anything, to ease the torment.

He looked up at you, eyes dark with want, the smirk softening into something almost tender. “I’ve got you,” he said, voice rough but steady, as he tossed the remnants of the ice aside and leaned down to kiss your stomach again, slow and worshipful, his hands sliding up your thighs, teasing but not quite giving you what you craved.

Matt’s kisses lingered on your stomach, soft and deliberate, each one stoking the fire in your core as the remnants of the ice cube’s chill faded into your overheated skin. The haze of the weed made every touch feel electric, your body trembling with need as his hands gripped your thighs, thumbs brushing teasingly close to the edge of your panties. Your breath came in shallow gasps, your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging lightly as you squirmed beneath him, the ache between your legs unbearable.

“Matt…” you whimpered, voice raw and pleading, your hips shifting restlessly, seeking more. The sound seemed to spark something in him, his eyes darkening as he looked up at you, the tenderness in his gaze now laced with something hungrier.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice low and rough, thick with restraint. His hands slid up your thighs, fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties. He paused, eyes flicking to yours, silently checking in. You nodded, breathless, heart pounding, and he tugged the fabric down slowly, peeling it off and tossing it aside, leaving you bare beneath him except for your bra.

The cool air hit your exposed skin, and you shivered, but it was Matt’s gaze—dark, reverent, almost possessive—that made your breath catch. He reached for the glass of iced water again, fishing out another ice cube, and your eyes widened, a mix of anticipation and nerves fluttering in your chest. “Matt—” you started, but the words dissolved into a sharp gasp as he brought the ice cube to your inner thigh, the cold shock sending a jolt through you.

“Shh,” he soothed, his free hand gripping your hip to keep you steady, his lips brushing the sensitive skin just above your navel. “Just relax.”

He dragged the ice slowly up your thigh, closer to your core, and you trembled, your legs parting instinctively as the anticipation built. Then, with a deliberate, torturous slowness, he pressed the ice cube against your folds, the freezing touch on your heated skin making you cry out softly, a mix of shock and pleasure. Your hips bucked, but Matt’s hand on your hip held you firm, grounding you as he moved the ice, gliding it gently over your slick folds.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, voice trembling, your head tipping back as the cold sent waves of sensation through you. The ice was unrelenting, a sharp contrast to the heat pooling inside you, and when he guided it to your clit, circling slowly, you moaned, loud and unfiltered, your hands clutching the sheets. The pleasure was intense, almost too much, every nerve in your body lit up as you squirmed beneath him, torn between pulling away and pressing closer.

Matt watched you, eyes locked on your face, drinking in every reaction. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, voice rough, almost reverent, as he leaned down to kiss the inside of your thigh, his warm breath a maddening contrast to the ice. The cube was melting now, dripping cold water onto your skin, mixing with your own slickness, and he kept moving it, slow and deliberate, teasing your clit before sliding it back down your folds.

Your thighs trembled, and another desperate whimper escaped you, your hips rolling against his hand, chasing the sensation even as it overwhelmed you. “Matt, please…” you gasped, voice barely coherent, the need in your core so intense it felt like you might unravel.

He didn’t stop, but his kisses softened, trailing up your thigh as the ice melted away, leaving a wet trail he followed with his lips. His hand slid to your other thigh, spreading you open gently, and he kissed closer to your core, slow and worshipful, but not quite giving you the release you craved. “Tell me what you need,” he said, voice low and teasing, though you could hear the strain in it, like he was barely holding himself back.

You moaned again, squirming under his touch, your body a mess of want, the ice and his teasing kisses pushing you closer to the edge but not quite enough. “You…” you mumbled, voice shaky, desperate, your fingers tugging at his hair, urging him closer.

The melted ice left a slick trail on your skin, mingling with your own arousal as Matt’s lips hovered teasingly close to your core, his warm breath sending shivers through you. The weed’s haze had you hyper-sensitive, every touch and whisper amplified, your body trembling with need. His kisses, soft and worshipful, only stoked the fire, and your whimpers were growing harder to stifle, especially knowing your parents were somewhere in the house, oblivious but dangerously close.

Matt pulled back slightly, his eyes dark and heavy as they met yours, a silent question in his gaze. Your chest heaved, and you nodded, desperate, your fingers still tangled in his hair. “Please…” you whispered, voice raw, barely holding together.

He didn’t make you beg this time. His hands moved to his hoodie, tugging it off in one fluid motion, revealing the lean muscle beneath. Your breath caught at the sight of him, and when he shed his jeans and boxers, your eyes widened, a mix of anticipation and nerves fluttering in your stomach. He was big—intimidatingly so, the kind of size that promised both pleasure and a challenge.

He crawled back over you, bracing himself on one arm as he leaned down to kiss you, slow and deep, his lips grounding you even as your body buzzed with need. “Gonna take care of you,” he murmured against your mouth, voice soft but laced with hunger. “But you gotta be quiet for me, okay, sweetheart?”

You nodded, biting your lip, but the thought of staying silent felt impossible with the way your body was screaming for him. He reached between you, guiding himself to your entrance, and you tensed, the anticipation making your heart race. “Relax,” he whispered, kissing the corner of your mouth, his hand stroking your thigh soothingly. “I’ve got you.”

He pushed in slowly, inch by inch, and you gasped, the stretch intense but delicious as he filled you, his size hitting every sensitive spot with a precision that made your toes curl. The sensation was overwhelming, a perfect blend of pleasure and pressure, and you clenched around him, a soft moan slipping out before you could stop it.

“Shh,” Matt murmured, his voice gentle but firm. He brought his free hand to your mouth, pressing two fingers against your lips. “Suck on these, baby. Keep you quiet.”

Your eyes fluttered as you obeyed, drawing his fingers into your mouth, your tongue swirling around them. The act was grounding, muffling your whimpers as he started to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate, each one dragging against every nerve inside you. He was gentle but deep, his hips rolling with a rhythm that made your core tighten, the pleasure building so fast it was dizzying.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he whispered, his voice low and reverent, his lips brushing your ear. “So perfect for me.” His words sent a shiver through you, and you moaned around his fingers, the sound muffled but desperate. He kept his pace steady, each thrust hitting that sweet spot deep inside you, the stretch of him filling you so completely it was almost too much.

Your hands gripped his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you rocked against him, chasing the rising wave of pleasure. The weed made everything sharper—the warmth of his body, the slick friction, the way his cock seemed to know exactly where you needed him. Your thighs trembled, and you sucked harder on his fingers, trying to stay quiet as the coil in your core tightened, threatening to snap.

“Look at you,” Matt murmured, his voice soft but thick with awe, his eyes locked on yours. “Taking me so well.” He shifted slightly, angling his hips to hit even deeper, and you arched beneath him, a stifled cry vibrating against his fingers. The pleasure was blinding, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge, and you could tell he felt it too—his breathing was ragged now, his control fraying, but he stayed gentle, keeping you safe even as he unraveled you.

“Matt…” you mumbled around his fingers, voice barely audible, your body shaking as the pressure built higher. You were so close, every nerve alight, and the need to stay quiet only made it more intense, the secrecy adding a thrilling edge.

“I know, baby,” he whispered, kissing your neck softly, his thrusts never faltering, slow but relentless. “Let go for me. I’ve got you.”

His words, his voice, the perfect stretch of him—it was too much. The coil snapped, and you came hard, your body shuddering as waves of pleasure crashed over you. You bit down on his fingers to muffle your moans, your walls clenching around him, and Matt groaned softly, his own release following as he thrust deep one last time, spilling inside you.

He stayed there for a moment, buried in you, his lips brushing your forehead as you both caught your breath. Slowly, he eased his fingers from your mouth, wiping them gently on the sheet before kissing you, soft and languid, like he was savoring the taste of you. “You okay?” he murmured, voice still low, his hand stroking your side.

You nodded, dazed, your body limp and sated, the afterglow mixing with the weed’s haze to leave you floating. “Yeah,” you whispered, a shy smile tugging at your lips. “More than okay.”

He chuckled softly, pulling you close, his arms wrapping around you as he kissed your temple. “Good,” he said, voice warm and steady. “Let’s stay quiet, though. Don’t need your parents ruining this.”

—

A/N- it’s so flipping long i’m sorry

My beautiful babies- @blushsturns @starrii-sturns @izzylovesmatt @chrisslut04 @oopsiedaisydeer @csturnioloswifey @just-a-girl-1 @sturdyyolo @sturnslvtt @sturnbows @sturniolosrtewsexy @chriss-slutt @franticroads s @thecrawlys @ribbonlovergirl @freshlyinlovewchris @whore4chris @matts-girlfriend @ariana3lovesu @sturnl0ve @cass-sturn @sturns-mermaid @sunrisemill @fadedstvrn @ikyoudreamofme @mattsdemi @kitkatbar1275 @skelet0nsinmyycloset @lezleeferguson-120 @bells-sturn @sturniolosymphony @kenziesturniolo54 @kikirasweatsweathoho @emely9274 @cherryystemm @realuvrrr @zenithsturniolo @kier-with-a-k @eeyoresturnz @elizasturn @ribread03 @sturnslux3 @costalgirlyr @pizzapocketpocketpizza @arianna1342 @mattsplaything @ed1tssturnn

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maucira · 5 months ago

Text

awfully petty

dandy x f!reader

cw: non-con, rough sex, size difference, unprotected sex, lots of tongue..

"Hey! I've got some goodies for sale~!"

"Spare a flower some tapes, will ya?"

"I've got some better items this time, I swear!"

The rainbow-petaled man's eye twitched in annoyance. Despite his countless efforts, always with a friendly demeanour, your group denied every offer. Dandy's seen them pick up tapes, collecting them throughout the toons' journey, so why won't they just buy something from his store? Poppy is on the brink of death yet she refuses to buy a bandage from his store.

Ah, that's right. You.

"Oh Poppy, you don't have to buy from him. We'll let you know once we've found a bandage, okay?" You said with a haughty tone to the blue toon. His brows furrowed subtly as he silently fumed. He hid his clenched fists behind his back as he watched you poorly attempt to hide the smirk that crept up on your face as you watched him lose his temper. Oh you little minx, why do you try to torment him so?

The group glanced over Dandy's items once more, his brain trying to grasp any sort of hope that lightly shone. "Don't make me angry." He spoke, irritation evident in his tone. His teeth grit together, surely they wouldn't refuse this time. He attempted to reassure himself in his mind, they wouldn't ignore him this time... Right?

Boxten's guilty smile said everything Dandy needed to know to immediately wipe all his hopeful thoughts away. "Uh... sorry, Dandy. Maybe next time?" He said in a softer tone. He took Poppy's hand and guided her away towards the large metal doors that led to their next round. Rodger and Goob were already facing the doors, the magnifying glass uninterested and the other messing around with his extended arms, but both waiting for the doors to open.

That only left one, the bitch who kept convincing the others to reject him. Your eyes turned up sharply, a patronising smile curling your lips. A barely audible snicker escaping you, just loud enough for the flower to hear. "Seems we're all good, Dandy." You said with a playful voice. He was sick of your annoying shenanigans, even before the tension that had formed between you two, you've always been like this. Always trying to piss him off, enjoying his reactions every time you'd get on his nerves.

"Be that way." He snapped, with barely contained anger. He pulled the lever and descended back down to where he stored his goods. You raised a finger to your lips, curling it to cover the smile that grew on your face. You loved to tease him, seeing his cute angry face as he stared at you with disdain. You hoped this time something interesting would happen.

Since the moment you stepped foot out the door, an uneasy feeling had made its way into you, settling in your stomach with every movement you took. You'd never admit it, but you were being extremely cautious this round. A soft tune played, the song that would play every time Dandy's shop opened, Clair de Lune. You wondered why it was playing. Had Dandy done something? A chill crept up your spine, making you shudder as you turned the wheel to pour ichor into the glass tube. It wasn't very ideal for the machine to be located in a remote corner, with the only way of noticing any twisteds being looking behind you.

With every drip of the black substance, time seemed to still further. It was uncomfortable being in a space with no way of escaping. Peeking behind your shoulder every so often, you tried your hardest not to miss any skill checks. Being attacked now would be terrible, actually, being attacked in general would be.

A relieved sigh escaped you as you completed the machine. You looked down at your watch, which showcased how many machines had been finished. "Three out of five complete... I should go check around to see if any others aren't being done." You muttered. Just as you were about to turn around, loud footsteps rumbled from behind you. They were heavy, loud, and seemed to belong to something much larger than any normal toon. Perhaps a new twisteds. God, you hoped whatever was coming for you wouldn't be painful with its attack. You whipped around, you knew something was about to turn the corner, who it was, was the question.

Your breath hitched, there was no escape, but luckily you still had two hearts left, so it should be alright. Right? A grimace came onto your face. Your heart hammered in your chest, but nothing could've prepared you for the shock that had encased you the moment you saw the giant twisted that stood before you.

A large grin was on the beast's- no, Dandy's face. His eyes glowed a beautiful red, and his petals once soft and rounded, now sharp and pointed. Fangs protruded out of his excited smile. In your opinion, it almost looked like a sneer. The short and petite flower you had tried to piss off just less than an hour ago, is now a large beast that towered more than twice your size. Your eyes travelled further downward, eyeing his knife-like colourful claws that threatened to tear into you at any second. He was horrifying.

The previously unbothered look on your face changed quickly, your brows furrowing and a quivering, small smile on your lips. It was always risky the game you played at, and you wouldn't give up so easily. Your body shook immensely as you stepped back slowly. "D-Dandy...?" You spoke, in a shallow tone with only remnants of the cocky demeanour you carried yourself with. The toon in question didn't respond, staying quiet as he placed another claw forward. The corner of his mouth seemed to grow the more he observed the terrified reaction you gave off. His grin unsettled you. As much as you'd like to doubt he'd hurt you, many of your other twisted friends wouldn't hesitate to harm you.

He stepped closer and closer, creeping until you were pressed right against the completed machine, and he, inches away from your face. You felt his hot breaths on his face as he stared you dead in the eyes. You instinctively attempted to shut your eyes when the heat of his breath hit you in the face, but a low growl resounded from him, making you open them again. "Dandy... come on, you didn't take what I was saying back there seriously, did you? I was only teasing..."

You slowly raised a hand, almost as if trying to calm a wild animal, but you knew the only one you were trying to calm was yourself. You placed a hand on his much larger face that stared down at you with a terrifying look. "Dandy..." You muttered as you observed his appearance once more. The tapes wrapped around his animal-like body, covered in the same sticky tar that you had poured into numerous machines.

His rainbow claws tapped the floor before dragging over to where you were. The sudden change made you pull your hand off of his face and bring it to your chest. "Dan... Dandy what're you doing?" You questioned, the meek smile slowly slipping off of your face as he brought his claws closer and closer to you. A distorted, gravelly growl that almost sounded like a mocking chuckle bellowed out as he grasped your torso with his hand.

You let out a quiet gasp as you felt his large hand encase your body. He brought his face closer to yours before a large, pointed tongue slipped out of his face. Your mind raced wildly, 'He's not going to kill me,' you thought, 'he's going to fucking eat me.' Tears welled up in your eyes, shutting them the closer he slowly closed the distance. Expecting to feel teeth crush your skull open, tears slipped down your cheeks. The thought of the sensation of your nerves on fire as teeth punctured your head, your brain being chewed up like a piece of steak made you want to vomit.

Instead of the horror you expected, the tongue slid up your cheek, licking away the tears before moving further across and beginning to lick your quivering lips. You opened your cloudy eyes in confusion, gasping once you realised he was trying to enter your mouth. You quickly regret it as his large tongue invades your mouth, barely able to fit it all in. It moved around wildly, shoving itself down your throat until you were gagging and choking on it. His saliva dripped down your chin, his much larger mouth producing way more than the average toon should.

You tried to yell out his name but only struggled coughing came out of you as he refused to leave your mouth. Your lack of air made you gasp as you choked on his tongue, but the heaving made you swallow more of his drool. You hacked violently as a disgusted look came onto your face. The corners of Dandy's mouth grew into a sinister grin as he pointed his claw to the top of your dress before a loud tearing sound was heard.

He finally removed his tongue from your mouth just as you thought you were about to faint from the lack of oxygen, but realising it now, that would've been far more merciful than to feel this creature defile you. You were shivering, and you couldn't tell if it was from the cold air or fear. Dandy had left you only your panties, the bra you were wearing torn off along with the dress. You hurriedly tried to cover your chest, but Dandy let out a warning growl as you did so, making you hesitantly lower your arms by your side.

"So that's it? You're going to rape me just because I joked around a little? Even I thought you were better than that, Dandicus." You scoffed. Dandy didn't respond, it seemed only growls could be made. He tilted his head, curiously or mockingly? You couldn't tell. His eyes drifted down to the floor for a second, before glancing back at you. You followed where his eyes went, only to see a large, large, red dick throbbing between his legs. It would take an idiot to not know he was aroused. He panted a giggle-like sound at your widened eyes. There was no fucking way that thing would fit inside you. You wanted to make that very clear.

"Dandy- Dandy, no. I'll- I'll fuck you after this floor if that's what you want. There's no way that thing will fit inside me! Do you even know how huge you are right now?" You said, stumbling over your words. No matter what you said, nothing was making him show a sign of stopping. That disturbing grin never left his face. His claw reached forward and tore off the last shred of dignity you had left. You tried to cover your lower body with your hands but he reached forward and grabbed your arms. He slammed your head onto the ground with a loud thud. He pulled you forward, leaning over you until the tip of his dick prodded at your hole. He rubbed the mushroom tip against your pussy, whines of disagreement leaving your throat as you begged that he didn't do it.

A shocked cry of pain came out of you as he rammed into you. Your gummy walls tightened around him instinctively as he buried himself to the hilt in you. He held your arms with one claw and used the other to spread your legs open. You screamed as he began to rut into you like a feral dog. He had no remorse as he harshly pounded in and out of you. An outline of his large bulge in your stomach was prominent as his pace was relentless. You thrashed under him, screaming and crying as blood dripped out of your pussy.

His dick was becoming coated in your slick, making it easier for him to violate you like a ragdoll. He panted heavily next to your ear as pleasure soon accompanied the pain, no matter how much you hated it. You let out wails, a mixture of pain and pleasure as he hammered himself straight into your core. It felt like he was splitting you open. You began to subconsciously rock against his dick, your body arching at his roughness.

Your cunt throbbed, painful goodness coursing throughout your every vein as you ground back onto him. You didn't want this, not at all, but your body couldn't resist its pleasure. The thickness of his shaft sliding in and out of you rapidly made your head spin, you felt faint as he continued to rock into you like there was no tomorrow. You could feel his dick hitting your womb with every thrust, making you cry out in pain. You let out whimpers as you began to constrict around him.

That sinister giggle of his sang out as he could feel you tighten around him. Your loud moans and grunts of pain soon accompanied his deep panting. You screamed out his name as you felt the coil in your stomach tighten and release on his dick that never stopped for a moment. The pain became more as he overstimulated your poor cunt.

You could feel the heavy slaps of his balls against your ass as his thrusts became faster and faster before he loudly snarled next to your ear. His claws scraped the wooden floor behind your head, splintering it as he released into you.

Large amounts of cum spilled out from him, it felt as if he was unloading bucket loads into you. He didn't stop until your pussy was dripping his cum out of you, then squirted the rest out onto your stomach. Besides the shallow pants, he was silent. He tilted his head at you, mockingly this time. Tears were cascading down your cheeks, you weren't sure you were going to be able to stay awake until the others finished the machines. Dandy picked up your shredded clothes and tossed them on top of you, what a gentleman. He stalked off, not giving you a final glance and began to run to a finished machine.

You sat up pathetically against the machine, sniffling and sobbing before bringing your knees up to your chest. You knew you had to get out of there, but you didn't want the others to see you in such a vulnerable state. You used your torn panties to wipe the excess cum off of you, a lot of it gushing out of you. You cried for a long moment, before trying to salvage what you could of your clothes, only your dress being somewhat useable if you patched it up. You slipped it on, a gaping tear straight down the middle. You tried to stand, but your legs gave out underneath you. Tears wouldn't stop falling as you began to crawl to a shelf that had a sewing kit, maybe the creators felt pity for you and decided to help you a little. You messily stitched your dress back up, leaning against the bookshelf before continuing to sob into your knees.

Just by your luck, Poppy had peeked around the corner, a worried expression on her face as she hurriedly rushed over to you. "What happened to you!? Okay, okay... ah shit. Can you stand? Here, let me help." She rambled out before pulling your arm over her shoulder and supporting your waist with her other hand. "I don't know what the hell happened to you, but Rodger's on the last machine. I'm getting you out of here, pronto!" She exclaimed, rushing you in front of the elevator and standing with you behind a few boxes.

"Thank you... Thank you, Poppy..." You heaved out through your cries, before poorly attempting to cradle her. "Hey? It's all good, I'm always here for you, y'know?" She said confused, but a smile appeared on her face as you hugged her. A ding rang out through the area, interrupting your moment with Poppy as she gasped and ran to the elevator with you, huffs of annoyance escaping you as you were pulled inside.

You could hear the heavy footsteps of Dandy as everyone rushed into the elevator. Luckily, no one had died, thanks to you being raped probably. You heard Goob and Poppy cheer, a relieved smile appearing on Boxten's face. You observed everyone, and thinking of it, you'd go through that hell again if it meant keeping your friends safe. You leaned your head against Poppy's shoulder, cheerful chatter in the air.

A ding was heard, and confusion silenced the toons before everyone looked at the shop that was rising into the elevator. Dandy's eyes were on you, a happy grin on his face as he giggled.

"Let's not make that happen again, shall we?"

One thought was in your head.

'I'm going to kill that fucker.'

#dandys world x reader #dandy x reader #dandys world #fanfic #cw: noncon #dandys world smut #dandys world x reader smut #cross posted on ao3 #i was super nervous to post this i hope you guys enjoy

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princeoftheeternalbog · 1 year ago

Text

Really sleepy and so like sleeping with you headcannons lets go

I'm not sure half of these are even on the same vibe so uhm like do with that what you will, this is so long and it's atrocious but oh well. Also sorry if its ooc😻

I think maybe one line of suggestive in Franky's and Namis.

I feel like i forgot someone tbh..

Luffy

Sleeps anywhere and everywhere but sleeps better and longer next to you. Thus he is obsessed with sleeping with you and whenever he wants to sleep now you have no choice you must take sleep too. He snores and drools but that's kind of a win because then he doesn't care if you do yk? Loves taking naps with you and it's a way he likes to connect with you. Always kisses you before you sleep and after you wake up. He's so comfortable to lie next to because he's so squishy and he holds you in like every way possible because he doesn't have to worry about circulation being cut off or anything.

Zoro

Again he will sleep literally anywhere. He sleeps like a log but somehow you are the only person able to wake him up, Robin theorises it's his observation haki keeping an eye on you but whatever it is you are Zoros designated alarm clock. However, there is about a 30% chance that when you wake him up, he will just snatch you to cuddle and go back to sleep. You cannot escape his hold and if you keep trying to wake him up he'll just bite you(gently) idk he's feral. Depends on his schedule if he's comfortable or not, usually when he's bulking up he's squishier and it's nice to cushion your head on.

Sanji

Never naps and it's so alarming. How does he survive on like 6 hours everyday we will never know. Anyways he's very clingy when he's sleepy but in like a 'I don't want to bother you so I'll just sit over here looking really forlorn', just take the man to bed. Is somehow so comfy to sleep with it's actually annoying because after a certain point you just can't sleep alone anymore. Always tucks you in if you don't get up at the same time as him and he'll leave little snacks and drinks on your bedside table for when you do wake up. Sanji has a more lean muscly build so it's more comfortable to have him lie on top of you and he is not complaining in the slightest.

Nami

Loves cuddling in the winter, hates it in the summer. She's really sensitive to the temperature yk it's that innate sense of the weather, so when it's hot she is hot. But she really likes being able to touch you, so after a certain point she just forces franky to install(invent) air conditioning and it makes the summer so much more bearable. After this there's no escape, you will be cuddling every night (unless boundaries yk). She always tries to convince you stay in bed in the morning...and it always works. She's very persuasive okay. Lets you use her as a pillow, like her chest or thighs or tummy, she just wants to be next to you.

Usopp

Really shy about sleeping with you the first time. Only the first time. After that well lets just say you created a monster. He's really good at telling when you need a nap, especially when you won't admit it. He just subtly ushers you to a comfy spot and then oh what a surprise your eyes are getting really heavy and hm Usopp wouldn't mind if you leant on him for a bit and then snoreville. He thinks you're so pretty when you're sleeping because you look so peaceful and relaxed, so even if he's not tired he will always agree to a nap. He will carry you to bed. And he's so casual about it too, I guess because you're not like watching him directly so he's just like really chill.

Robin

Actually has a nap schedule with her sleep schedule, she usually takes a very short one after lunch because her power can be quite draining and so once you find this out it's just a big cuddle session which she loves. She tends to keep you to a sleep schedule too but she won't force you if you are really insistent on staying up, but she will say I told you so when you're grumpy and feel sick the next day. So lovely to sleep with, she barely moves, never hogs the blanket, doesn't snore and somehow always stays very cool even in the summer. She also always makes sure you get into bed safely if you're drunk or ill, even if she is too, she really cares about you.

Franky

I won't lie...he builds himself an entire like cushion add-on thing so you can comfortably sleep next to him. He looks like a giant marshmallow man it's so funny. But also it's so cute because he takes your comfort so seriously and he runs multiple tests to make sure it's the absolute comfiest he can be for you. Loves naps but absolutely adores actual bedtime because of the whole like rituals and because he knows he doesn't have to get up in like an hour. Sometimes he will seriously overwork into the night, but on those occasions it's fairly easy to coax him to bed(😚). Also he wears one of those stupid scrooge hats tbh. And yes he says super in his sleep.

Brook

Really insecure about sleeping together because he thinks he'll be uncomfortable to lie next to or cuddle :(. On the other hand, you're also really worried because you don't want to accidentally hurt him while he's asleep, so for the first few months you sleep in beds that are close enough to hold hands instead. Eventually when you both become comfortable with the idea, you end up sleeping together almost every night and you occasionally nap together too. He wears really soft padded pajamas to make sure you're comfy. It's surprisingly more comfy to sleep next to him than you thought it would be.

I won't lie sometimes you do shit yourself waking up and seeing a skeleton.

Jinbei

So responsible, absolutely will stop you from napping if it's too close to bedtime. He knows sleep is important but he also knows a routine is important...and he can't bear watching you sleep alone so if you mess up your schedule then you're messing up his. This also works for if you try to stay up late too, he'll straight up snatch you off the ground and just carry you to bed no matter how much you complain. Really good cuddler, like really good. He always knows how much pressure to use while holding you and when you want more or less contact, knows when you need extra blankets, when you want to sleep in a hammock instead of a bed. He's got a sixth sense for your sleeping habits (read: he's desperately in love with you).

Law

Really grumpy about it. And really shy. Also he's a hypocrite, he'll stay up working till early hours of the morning but if you dare even try he's stood there staring at you like the mf eyes of notre dame. He always wants to cuddle but absolutely despises asking so again he just stares, you can always tell though because his ears go really red. Once you're in the bed though he's suddenly mr suave i will arrange everything, he will literally pick you up to manoeuvre you both into a better sleeping position and doesn't even bat an eye. He will nap but you have to trick him into it, he secretly loves it and lets you do it even when he knows what's happening.

Kidd

Needs like 15 million blankets to sleep. Uses one of said 15 million blankets to wrap you up like a burrito if you refuse to come sleep/nap with him. But actually it kinda does hurt his feelings so you can make up for it by playing with his hair until he falls asleep. Loves napping, he's like an overgrown cat and he'll sleep literally anywhere. But if it's anywhere other than his or yours (or killers) room he somehow? manages? to scowl? in his sleep? Yeah I don't know but it just stops his crew from messing with him because he looks so angry. Like Zoro he will literally just snatch you if you're in his vicinity, like you walk past for two seconds and then suddenly your vision flips and you're just stuck in this iron grip. He won't let you go and the crew just walk past you too.

Killer

You literally don't sleep together until you've been dating for like a fucking year. He really values his privacy and you really respect it which culminates in neither of you asking for such a long time that you both forget its a common couple thing. Until someone asks why you don't sleep together and then you guys are like huh idk and then that's the day you finally do. He's a good cuddler but he's a blanket hogger and you have to braid his hair before bed or it will end up in your mouth. On the plus side, he will make and leave breakfast or coffee (or anything you want) on your bedside table if he wakes up first. Also he always picks the best bedsheets and eventually buys two quilts so you can at least have some blanket when he snatches it all.

Ace

Naturally runs like a furnance and is hell to sleep next to in the summer. But he gets really grumpy if you dont sleep next to him so the crew make you suck it up I'm sorry. Literally you're like clawing at the walls as they throw you in and lock the door. Anyways he's a really good cuddler and so comfy to sleep with, and he always takes naps with his head in your lap. He loves to have you sleep on him too because he loves to look at your face and stroke you hair, idk he likes being slow with you even though he's really energetic. Being naturally sleepy and like a little radiator also tends to make the people around him sleepy so you two are banned from working next to each other because you both just end up napping.

Marco

He doesn't sleep a lot because well he doesn't really need to. But he adores sleeping with you. It's one of his like favourite 'bonding' activities, especially if you haven't been able to be alone for a while, he just loves being that close and the intimacy of sleeping in each others beds. On another note he's obsessed with making your bed really comfy because as a doctor he knows sleep hygiene is important and as a bird...well yk...nest. He's not shy about it but don't tease him because it will hurt his feelings and he won't tell you to save your feelings, beautiful sweet man that he is. LOVES a good nap/cuddle especially in the winter, if you both have spare time he just bundles you both in a big fluffy blanket and just exists with you for a bit.

Izou

He is surprisingly a really undignified sleeper, which is why you don't sleep in the same room for months when you first get together😭. When you finally do, you wake up with his arm in your face, his hair is everywhere, there's a pillow across the room, the blanket is somehow under the bed, you're just like wtf how. And Izou is just (⁠ ⁠´⁠◡⁠‿◡⁠`⁠). But he gets better over time because his brain becomes more aware of your presence as you become more important to him and then bedtime settles into comfy chaos. Pillows still end up everywhere but he is now your cushion so you don't really care. He doesn't really nap anywhere that's not his room but if you do then he carries you to bed :).

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aventurineswife · 11 days ago

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Heyy it's me, 🤡 anon <333

Can I request Aventurine, Jiaoqiu, Sunday, and Dr Ratio (seperate) getting into an argument with reader who is an ice element and they unleashed sharp icicles at the men out of frustration? It's like the scene in Frozen 1 when Elsa revealed her powers to everyone in the ballroom

Reader did it by pure accident, so they start apologizing profusely after realizing it

(Would be nice if there's some comfort at the end, I can't handle pure angst 💔)

I just know you're gonna cook like always with this one

Shards of Silence

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Sunday x Reader, Angst with Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Argument, Accidental Injury, Ice Elemental Reader, Guilt, Apology, Fluff, Protective Behavior, Relationship Tension, Vulnerability, Character Growth.

Warnings: Emotional Conflict, Raised Voices, Accidental Harm, Brief Panic, Minor Injury (Non-Lethal), Reader Feeling Guilty, Touch-Starved Behavior (Sunday), Slow-Burn Comfort.

A/N: You have too much trust on me lmaoo 😭🙏 but thank you! 🤭💖

The argument had been brewing for a while. Aventurine, with his usual smirk, had been pushing buttons, playing with words, treating the entire situation like one of his high-stakes gambles.

"You never take anything seriously!" you snapped, arms crossed as you glared at him. The tension in the air was palpable, the frustration simmering beneath your skin.

Aventurine chuckled, tilting his head. "Oh, come now, sweetheart. You wound me. You know I always take things seriously—just in my own way."

You gritted your teeth. He was deflecting, as always. His voice was light, teasing, but you could see it—the way his eyes flickered, the way his fingers twitched slightly at his side. He was keeping up his act, refusing to let you in.

"I don't get it," you continued, voice trembling. "Why do you do this? Why do you make everything a game? Why can't you just be honest with me?"

His smirk faltered for a fraction of a second. "Because honesty is boring, darling."

That was the last straw. The frustration, the hurt, the overwhelming need to break through his mask—it all surged at once. A sharp, icy force exploded from you, shards of ice materializing in the air before launching toward him.

Time slowed.

Aventurine’s eyes widened as the icicles streaked toward him, their crystalline edges gleaming in the light. But at the last moment, he shifted—fluid and practiced—dodging with a grace that seemed almost effortless. One shard nicked his cheek, drawing a thin line of crimson.

You gasped, horror crashing over you like a tidal wave. "Oh no—oh my god, Aventurine! I—I didn’t mean to—"

But he was already grinning again, wiping the blood away with the back of his hand. "Now that was unexpected," he mused, inspecting the crimson streak on his fingers. "A little warning next time, sugar?"

Tears welled in your eyes. "I'm so, so sorry—I didn't mean to—I just—"

His expression softened, and before you could spiral further, he closed the distance between you, gently tilting your chin up with two fingers. "Hey now, don’t look so devastated. If anything, you just made things interesting." His voice was quieter this time, lacking its usual theatrical bravado.

You swallowed hard. "I—I could've really hurt you."

"But you didn't," he pointed out, his gaze steady. "And even if you had, well—I've been through worse. A little ice isn’t going to shatter me, love."

His hand moved to yours, squeezing it lightly. "Besides, if this is how you show your feelings, I think I should start annoying you more often. Maybe I'll get a lovely ice sculpture next time."

Despite yourself, you let out a weak laugh. He always knew how to ease the tension, even in moments like this.

"You're impossible," you murmured.

"And yet, you’re still here," he teased.

His fingers brushed over yours, warm despite the lingering chill in the air. "Don't go freezing me out just yet, darling. I'm quite fond of this little game of ours."

And for once, you allowed yourself to believe him.

Sunday had never raised his voice at you before. Not once.

But tonight, his usual soft, measured tone was edged with something unfamiliar—frustration.

"You don't understand," he said, eyes dark with something unreadable. "I am not asking for your approval. I am telling you that this path leads nowhere."

"Why do you always act like you know best?" you shot back, voice trembling. "Like you have all the answers, like my choices don’t matter?"

Sunday exhaled sharply, his wings fluttering behind him, his hands clenched at his sides. "Because I have seen where this road ends," he murmured. "And I do not wish for you to walk it."

His words struck a chord—one that made your chest tighten with resentment and sadness all at once. The weight of his gaze, his presence, his unwavering belief that he was protecting you—it was suffocating.

"You can't control everything," you whispered, voice cracking.

Sunday hesitated. And in that moment, the emotions you had been struggling to contain surged outward.

A sharp chill swept through the air.

You barely had time to register the way ice crystallized around you, how jagged shards of frozen energy shot toward him in a burst of raw power.

Sunday's eyes widened, but he didn’t move.

The ice halted midair, hovering inches away from his form, before slowly dissipating into harmless flakes. He had stopped it—his power, his will, had overwritten your accidental outburst.

Your breath hitched.

"I—I didn’t mean to—" You took a step back, horrified. "Sunday, I’m so sorry, I—"

His expression had shifted. Gone was the frustration, the authority. In its place was something gentler—something almost sad.

Slowly, he stepped forward, raising a gloved hand toward you. You flinched, but he only rested it lightly against your shoulder.

"I know," he murmured.

You blinked up at him.

"I know you did not mean it," he repeated, his touch steady despite the way your body trembled. "And I know this power—this weight you carry—is difficult to bear."

Tears pricked your eyes. "But I—"

"You are not alone," he whispered, his golden halo casting a soft glow around him. "No matter what you may fear, you are not alone."

Something inside you cracked—not like ice breaking, but like something fragile giving way to warmth.

And when he pulled you into his arms, wings folding around you in a shield of silent comfort, you let yourself believe him.

"I expected more from you."

Ratio’s voice was sharp—calm, but cutting. The words stung more than you cared to admit.

"You think I don't care?" you snapped, fists clenched. "Just because I don’t think the same way you do—just because I don’t approach things like some cold, calculated formula?"

Ratio sighed, rubbing his temples. "That’s not what I said. But if you continue to act on impulse, if you refuse to analyze before you react, you will only cause unnecessary damage."

Something in you snapped.

Ice burst outward, an involuntary response to the storm of emotions inside you. Sharp icicles materialized in the air, hurtling toward him before you even realized what was happening.

Ratio barely flinched.

With precise, fluid movement, he raised a hand. A calculated counterforce met your attack, shattering the ice before it could touch him.

The room fell silent.

Your breath came in ragged gasps. "Oh my god," you whispered. "Ratio—I—"

He held up a hand. "I know."

You swallowed hard, shame settling deep in your gut. "I didn’t mean to—I just—"

A pause. Then, Ratio took a step forward, his intense gaze studying you, assessing every minute detail of your expression.

"Your emotions overwhelm you," he observed. "That is not a weakness."

You blinked. "What?"

"Your power is tied to your feelings," he said matter-of-factly. "That is not inherently a flaw—it simply means you must learn control. Recklessness will not serve you, but neither will self-recrimination."

Your hands trembled at your sides.

He reached out then, carefully taking your wrist. His grip was firm, grounding. "Next time," he said, voice softer, "tell me when you're reaching your limit."

The words were unexpected. But as you met his gaze, something unspoken passed between you.

And somehow, that was enough.

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logansdoll · 9 months ago

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Heyyy it would be awesome if you wrote a third part for “37” where Charles gives Logan’s memories back and we go through flashbacks of some of his best memories, his wedding, the day his kids were born…something like that, it would be very heartwarming 🥰🥰🥰 or even maybe coming back from the past and seeing his kids again

sunflower

part three of "37"

CW: fluffy fluff, all the feels, suggestive, profanity, takes place after the events of Days Future Past, very bittersweet, your daughter's a lil menace, your son's a lil cutie pie, angst if you squint, i never know how to end these things, etc.

"Logan, the mind is a fickle thing," Charles sighed, resting his hands on his desk with a solemn look. "I can't possibly guarantee that this will work, much less in one session—" "I don't care how long it takes."

Logan's face drew tight with the statement, his patience visibly wearing thin.

He'd been listening to the same bullshit for twenty minutes...

"I don't care if I need a hundred different fuckin' sessions. I'm gettin' these memories back," he spelled out, leaning forward in his seat and roughly tapping his finger on the desk. "It doesn't make any damn sense. This body's been in this timeline for fifty-fuckin'-years and it doesn't remember shit."

"Because it is your consciousness that is the problem, Logan," Charles groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "That is what I've been trying to tell you."

Logan piped down for a moment, brows knitting together as he leaned back in his seat, taking an annoyed drag of his cigar.

"Your psyche is from a completely different timeline, and now resides in a completely different body. It's like asking to recall the memories of a random person walking down the street," the professor explained, again.

Sadly, he hung his head, greatly sorry for the misfortune of his friend.

"I wish there was something I could do, Logan. Truly. But I'm afraid it just can't be done."

But Logan didn't buy it.

Huffing a small plume of smoke out his nose, he glanced out the window, catching sight of you teaching a class on the lawn.

Using your powers, you grew a large sunflower out from the ground, the younger kids marveling at the sight as you began pointing out its anatomy, most of them enamored by the huge petals—which were bigger than their little six year-old frames.

And in a small pause in time, your eyes flitted up to meet his through the window, that heart-stopping smile finding its way onto your lips as you gave him a tiny wave.

It warmed him, experiencing your light for the first time in years without the threat of annihilation on the horizon.

Domesticity like this is something he'd craved all his life, and now that he had it in his grasp, he wasn't going to settle for anything less.

A stilling chill descended on his chest at the thought of your smile, and the countless others he'd missed.

Your tears of joy when he proposed.

Your frazzled excitement with the wedding planning.

Your radiance as you walked down the aisle.

He missed it all.

And he'd be damned if he didn't do everything in his power to try and get it back.

"Charles..." Logan started, stamping out his cigar in a nearby ashtray. "My whole life is standin' out there under that tree... and I can't remember a goddamn thing about her after 1973."

His tone turned cold, eyes sharp as he stared the professor down.

"I don't care if you have to rip my head in half... I'm gettin' those memories back."

The old man let out a sigh, accepting that going on like this would bring no other outcome.

He'd have to give the man what he wanted... consequences be damned.

'Let's hope he survives...'

"This will be violent," Charles stated off-rip, wheeling himself out from behind his desk. "I am essentially hammering your mind like a dam, making cracks in its defenses until it eventually gives way."

Logan nodded, watching as the man settled in front of him, raising his two fingers to his temple.

"Now... try not to move."

Logan shut his eyes, and in an instant, it felt as if his head was struck by a speeding train.

He let out a growl of pain as images began to flash behind his eyes, the next one always coming quicker than the last.

"Hon, which color do you think would go best with my complexion? Eggshell or Porcelain?" you asked, eagerly holding up two different swatches against your skin.

"You look beautiful in anything, baby," he stated as if it was the simplest thing in the world, wrapping an arm around your waist. "Either one is fine."

"As sweet as that is... it doesn't help," you huffed, playfully attempting to scold him.

"Fine then. Eggshell," he answered, quickly.

You raised a brow, an amused smile playing at your lips as you leaned in closer, "Are you just saying that to get me to shut up?"

He let out a chuckle, resting his forehead against yours, "Never."

Yes...

"Can't wait 'til this damn reception is over," he growled in your ear, lips dragging down your neck as you both hid in a nearby hallway. "First time I've been alone with you since I do."

"Logan..." you gasped, tucking your lip between your teeth in an attempt to muffle yourself as he tightly grasped your hips. "Someone'll hear..."

"Then I guess you better keep quiet," he smirked against your skin, giving your collarbone a soft nip.

It's all coming back...

"Logan..." you started, nervously, hands held firmly behind your back. "I have something to tell you... and I'm open to talk about it if you're upset..."

His brows furrowed as he turned away from his dresser, looking toward you with an air of concern.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his protective instinct spiking at the sight of your fearful expression. "What happened?"

Unable to say it, you slowly held up your hand, revealing a positive pregnancy test.

His eyes widened like saucers, throat drying at the tiny piece of plastic.

"You're... pregnant?"

You nodded, silently, his reaction not soothing your anxiety one bit.

But, as if on cue, he moved toward you, striding across the room and pulling you into a bone crushing hug.

"I'm gonna be a father..." he muttered into your hair, the phrase not one he thought he'd ever hear. "I'm gonna be a father..."

Wait...

"Logan!" you cried, tears welling in your eyes as you glanced up at him, scared. "I can't...mmmph fuck!... I can't do it! Hurts too much!"

"C'mon, baby, keep pushin'. You're doin' so good," he cooed, swiping stray strands of hair out your face as the nurse on the other side of the bed helped cheer you on. "Just a little bit more. You're right there."

With a grunt, you squeezed his hand tight, letting out a growl of pain as you gave another push.

Pop!

Logan's eyes shot wide, the man nearly biting through his tongue as he glanced down at his hand.

You dislocated his finger.

Though it seemed to be worth it as that final push was what did it.

"It's a girl!" the doctor smiled, carefully holding up the newborn.

Looking upon her small, chubbed face, Logan felt a sense of protectiveness sink into his chest—one that he only felt when things came to you.

In that moment, and every moment after that, he knew he would lay his life down for her, no question.

And she wasn't even a minute old yet.

I have—

"James! Get back here!" a little girl squealed with laughter, bursting into the office after a little boy, who looked terrified.

Logan snapped out his head with a gasp, shooting up from his seat and unsheathing his claws out of muscle memory.

'James...'

Quickly, Logan retracted his claws as the boy ducked behind his leg, gripping tightly onto his jeans as the girl stormed over.

She looked just like you, save for a few small details, and had a small snaggle-tooth poking out on her right side, only adding to her adorableness.

Not to mention the bone claws she had protruding from her knuckles.

"No fair! You can't hide behind Dad every time you're scared!" she furrowed her brows, upset.

"Mommy told you about your claws, Laura..." James mumbled, voice barely above a whisper as he shyly peeked out from behind his human shield.

'Laura...'

The boy was Logan's mirror image, looking almost exactly like he did at that age..

Apple doesn't fall too far from the tree...

Charles could sense the pieces clicking in Logan's mind, and figured lending a hand would be best after what he'd been through.

"Logan, these are your—" "Laura Marie Howlett!" your voice cut in, the little girl flinching at the sound.

Quickly, she retracted her claws, whipping around with a guilty smile, which was met by your less-than-approving glare.

"What have I told you about chasing your brother inside? And what have I told you about using your claws to do it?" you scolded, walking into the office. "You two are interrupting your father and Professor Xavier."

Logan let out a soft sigh, taking the moment to finally look over his family.

Like a slow moving stream, things were coming back to him, the feeling like a fog clearing from the recesses of his mind.

Every birthday.

Every boo-boo.

Every first.

Slowly but surely, they were all returning.

Without warning, Logan dropped to his knees, pulling the two kids into a tight hug, fiercely fighting off the emotion swelling in his chest.

"Daddy?" James squeaked, concerned.

"Are you okay?" Laura asked, confused.

He nodded, silently, the sight making your heart both burst and ache.

After all this time, your husband was truly whole.

Fifty years of suffering and agony had finally come to an end.

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#james howlett #james howlett x reader #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #wolverine x reader #x men #x men x reader #wolverine

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