#included both skin colors to show what it looks like for both | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cameronwillow · 10 days ago

Text

I’ll follow you until you love me

Eddie Munson x fem reader

Reuploaded!

When Eddie Munson first meets you, he’s instantly enamored. After he stumbles on your social media, he can’t resist every opportunity to know everything about you. Be near you. Even if it includes being a stalker.

Warnings! Stalker behavior! Talks of male masturbation! Oral! Fem receiving! Unprotected sex! Unedited and reuploaded from my previous account! Thank you to @bloodibambiidoll who helped me with this originally! I don’t actively write for Eddie but this is one of my favorites!

Eddie knew he was breaking some sort of code. But he couldn’t find it in himself to stop. He was…addicted. You weren’t even friends. Friendly was the better word. He knew you for only a couple of weeks. Your parents owned his favorite music store and he was sorting through the collection of Black Sabbath CDs when he saw you for the first time, also going through CDs in the metal section.

He immediately fell for you. Everything about you was perfect. Your body. Your face. Your clothes. Your voice. Eddie was completely mesmerized when you both had a conversation about why CDs were essential to the music listening experience. It took everything in him not to kiss you and ruin your pretty lipstick.

As soon as he was alone in his van, he yanked out his phone. Typed in your name and hunted for any sign of accounts you have. He didn’t even use his social media but you would be the exception. You were everything. After several minutes, he finally found your pretty picture. He sighed and leaned back in the seat.

It was your instagram. And in your bio you listed your tik tok, twitter and even your Facebook. Jackpot. Eddie’s eyes scanned over your uploads, his breathing getting heavier. It was almost as if he had a taste of your life. Your world. His thumb clicked on one particular picture where you were wearing his favorite color. It was a dress. A form fitting one. Rising to your mid thigh. Showing off your perfect legs that he so badly wanted to dig his fingers in. Your breasts were pushed together, the shiny heart shaped necklace above your chest aching for him to tug on as he pounded into you.

His fantasies didn’t end there. The whole week in between his shift at work and when he came home, he devoured everything you posted. He watched every video you reposted, he needed to know your humor, your likes, your dislikes. He couldn’t tear himself away from looking at you.

One night, you post your work schedule for the next week at the music store. And that’s when he decided he needed to see you again.

His shift ended at the Hawkins bar two hours after he originally planned because some fuckwad didn’t know how to show up on time. The music store would only be open for another hour so he raced to his van and probably broke three laws speeding to the building.

He speedily parked, exited and practiced in his head what he would say. He needs a copy of the band you liked Bad Omens. You posted about them all the time. Eddie needed the physical copy. Something you both talked about so it wouldn’t be weird if he asked for a disk. He inhaled and pushed open the door, glancing around as the bell rung. A collection of people were here, he tried to keep his cool. The CDS. His hair was tied into a bun and he wore all black. You always wore dark colors too. But would you even notice him? He shook his head and confidently strides to the shelves.

It was different. More organized. All the decades were correct. Everything was straightened. You had the magic touch. Eddie smiled when his fingers grazed over the plastic, you had touched these. He saw Bad omens right away, but he came here for help. He purposely took a step back and wore a confused expression.

“Eddie?” There. There you were. His cock twitched. Goosebumps rose on his skin. He didn’t turn right away, no. You wouldn’t get it that easy. As badly as he wanted to turn around and-

Your hand gently grazed his shoulder. He wanted to rip off his leather jacket to feel your fingers on his bare skin and his breath shuddered. Finally, he shifted in your direction. Eddie almost kissed you. He had to plant his feet heavily on the floor to prevent himself. Your eyes were soft, searching his brown irises. Small crinkles around your brows showed hours of work but your mouth. Fuck. Your mouth was curved into a polite, curious smile. You wore all black, a bad omens shirt, leggings and boots. A small name tag was right above your heart. You looked perfect. But he focused on your lipstick, the same you wore that first day. He wanted to smear your makeup. Make it run down your face while you were on your knees. He wanted to grip your hair and guide you through-

“It is Eddie, right? Don’t tell me I forgot.” He jerked his head.

“Yes. It’s Eddie. I’m glad you’re here. I’m in serious need of a music recommendation,” Eddie internally melted when you flashed him a grin.

“Well, I’m happy to assist you. I’m assuming you want this in the form of a CD?” You gave him a knowing look.

He clapped his hands. “ You remembered that. Yes. Always.” You giggled and you extended your hand towards the collection of CDs on the shelves.

“What sound are you looking for? I know you like metal. But do you want a classic recommendation, something underrated or unknown?” You sounded so considerate. You were doing your job, he knew that. But he clung to whatever interest you gave him.

“Honestly, what are you listening too? I want something different. You can only listen to so much Metallica and Black Sabbath,” Eddie dramatically pressed a finger to his lips. “Don’t tell anyone I said that.”

You nodded in kind. “Your secret is safe with me. But I can’t believe you’re actually asking for my opinion.”

“Why? I mean, I’d assume someone who shares my appreciation for metal has great taste.” He saw you from the corner of his eye, you dip your head down for a second. He needed to pace this conversation, withhold what he knows. He just needs to keep hearing your voice. He was almost trembling from the way you were accepting his attempts at charm.

“I mean-If I’m being honest. My favorite band is Bad Omens.” Eddie raised his eyebrows and nodded towards your shirt. His shoulders relaxed. Finally. This was how it went in his head.

“I haven’t listened to them. I’ve seen them on tik tok, but I just haven’t dived in.” He hoped you believed his lie.

“Excuse me?” You both turned and a older man stood at the entrance. Wearing a guns and roses shirt and light blue jeans. “I need help.”

Eddie’s chest burned. No, no, no. He just got you talking. You face him with a shadow of disappointment dancing across your features. He wanted to scream at the man but he had to stay calm. He couldn’t risk you seeing him differently. You didn’t hardly know him.

Yet.

“I’m sorry, Eddie. Gotta help him. But the CD is right there, and if you ring the bell someone will check you out. It was nice seeing you! I hope you like it!”

He was struggling to bury his anger even long after he paid for the album and made his way home. Eddie paced his room. You. You were so beautiful. So sweet. He wanted to keep listening to you talk. He wanted to know every single band you loved. He wanted to carve the sounds into his memory forever. He wanted-no, he needed more of you. He dug his phone out of his pocket.

Settling on his bed, knees spread apart, his thump quickly found your profile. You had so many followers. So many people watching, commenting and sharing with you online. He clenched his jaw when he looked at your story. Eddie blinked at the loud music attached. You had a closed lipped smile and your eyes were shut. And the caption talked about how much you hated rude customers. But then he recognized the song. It was Bad Omens.

He chewed his bottom lip. Was that because of him? Were you thinking about him? The same way he thought of you? He turned up the volume. Listened carefully. Was this song on the album he bought? He picked up the bag and yanked out the plastic, reading the song list on the back . Yes. It was. Eddie pressed the CD against his chest. You touched it. He brought it higher, over his chin until his lips pressed against it. He held it against his mouth, while he stared at your photo.

Eddie memorized your work schedule. Maybe he could stop by again tomorrow. Fuck, he couldn’t. He had to work and It was too soon. You would be confused.

He couldn’t fit anymore CDs on his shelf but he was considering fucking building a new one if that allowed him to buy more from you.

The next day he was in his car. Parked across the street with a few cars giving distance from the music store. He didn’t plan it. He was going into work in a hour. But He just needed to see you. Just look. That’s it. A death of Peace of mind CD was playing in his van and his jaw was clenching so hard from waiting for you to step out. He had fell asleep with his phone on his chest from frantically scrolling on your profile last night.

He didn’t know how his resolution disappeared so quickly. But he couldn’t stop thinking about how sweet you were. How quickly his conversation with you ended. He couldn’t stand it. He needed more. Eddie’s breathing shortened when the entrance opened and you stepped out. His chest expanded when you adjusted your bag, shuffled to close the door behind you and cast your search around the direction of the street. Fuck.

He gripped the steering wheel, so hard his hand trembled as you moved aside for a stranger. You smiled brightly then you started to walk in the opposite direction. His eyes trailed down your body. Black jeans, black hoodie and converse. They lingered on the curve of your thighs in those pants. But he frowned. Were you walking home? You didn’t have a car? Fuck. He didn’t know. He didn’t know anything at all. Why wouldn’t someone take you home?

Without a second thought, he turned the keys. In the back of his mind, he knew he was going overboard. He had work. He needed to leave. Soon. But god damn he just needed to make sure you got home safe. His van came alive and he maneuvered onto the street. There was a stop light coming, and he sped up to try and beat it before it turned red. He didn’t know how he would remain invisible as he followed you, but he had to try.

Eddie wasn’t sure how he managed, but you didn’t turn to see his van. Your apartment wasn’t far from the store thank fuck. He settled across the street, behind two cars. The same tactic he used earlier. You jogged up the driveway, where there wasnt a car. His suspicions confirmed. The complex wasn’t big, it looked similar to his own. But next to the door where you entered, was a large window. Of course, blinds concealed whatever was on the inside.

He glanced at the clock. He needed to get going. He hated being late. But your address was seared into his mind. He would never forget it. Eddie pulled out his phone, frantically clicking on your instagram. You had a new story. You were smiling, an adorable grin and your fingers were held in a peace sign. The caption said you were finally home. He wanted to help you relax. Spread your legs and make you see stars and never think about a stressful day again.

His dick was growing hard. Your sweet face. Covered in his cum. Your eyeliner running down your cheeks. His hand ghosted the center of his pants before he stopped.

No. No he wouldn’t touch himself. He needed you. He needed to cum inside you. You deserved better than him jerking off in his car. Eddie exhaled, forcing himself to drive.

The night shift was always packed. Plus as the manager, he was responsible for training and handling reckless drinkers. His hair was tied up, his usual style for his shift and his sleeves were rolled up, muscles flexing as he slid a glass to a guest. But his mind was a whirlwind. He hadn’t been able to check his phone. What were you doing? Were you relaxing? He was buzzing with energy. He hadn’t even told Steve about you yet, who apparently was busy with his own infatuation. Eddie kept looking at the clock. He had to stay over again but closing was coming soon. Halloween was in just a few days. What were you going to do? Dress up? Go to a party? Fuck, he needed to know.

He fucking fell asleep before he had a chance to look at your instagram when he got home after 3am. He crashed on his couch, still wearing his work clothes with his phone in his pocket. Eddie practically shoved the end of the charger into his phone, his leg bouncing from waiting for it to turn back on. He knew he should have charged it. Now, it would take longer to see you. Fuck, he needed to see you and your perfect face. Perfect body.

He wanted to touch himself. He wanted to imagine your lips wrapped around him, choking on his dick as his hand is pushing you further. His hand even drifted to his crotch until he stopped himself. No. No, he promised himself he wouldn’t cum until it was inside you. You were his. He checked his phone again as it finally came back to life. His fingers were frantic as they clicked on your name.

You uploaded a new story. Eddie sighed in relief. As it came up, your face looked tired. You weren’t smiling, instead you were holding up a glass, clinking it with another glass belonging to your best friend. His chest tightened. He wanted to be there. He wanted to drink with you, hold you and take care of you. You had to walk home. And he had to fucking work. He swiped to the next story.

It was this morning, he knew only because of the time included. Just an hour ago. You were smiling this time. It was your day off and you were thrilled to to go the Halloween store today. Eddie couldn’t stop looking at your bright eyes, the excitement and he needed to see it again. In person.

He had to try. He would go the store. Pretend he was looking for a Halloween costume. But when? You didn’t give a time. It didn’t matter. He would stay all day and wait. It was his day off too.

Eddie threw himself in the shower, got dressed and drove to the store. It didn’t matter if it was an hour away. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t planned dressing up, or that he would have to swap schedules. You were on his mind. Whatever you were doing, he wanted to be a part of it.

Bad omens played loudly in his van as he came into the parking lot. Eddie’s heart started to hammer as he unbuckled and stepped out. His neck was warm at the thought of hearing your voice again so he tied his hair up.

Opening the door, he was greeted with gruesome decor, rows of costumes and several people shopping. Fuck, how was he supposed to find you? If you were even here yet? His shoe tapped impatiently as he was torn on where to go. Costumes. That’s where he’d start. But what kind? Sexy? Scary? in between?

As he walked down the section, he pretended to search. His rings occasionally getting caught in the fabrics and plastic. He wasn’t interested in this. He didn’t want to participate without you. Oh god, who drove you here? Were you going to be alone? He didn’t think about that. He just moved. Eddie dug out his phone from his pocket.

“Hey, Eddie! Is that you?”

He froze.

Eddie turned around and there you were.

This time, you were wearing a dress. A black one. With a matching sweater and combat boots. But his eyes fell to the tattoo on your chest. He hadn’t seen it because you always wore higher neck tops. Eddie almost salivated. Your makeup was dark again with your apparent favorite lipstick. He wanted to touch your skin, run his tongue along the art. He knew you would taste sweet. So sweet.

“Yeah, it’s me.” Eddie dropped into a serious expression. “Are you following me?”

Your eyes widened and you shook your head. “No, I just saw you-“ Then he grinned. He knew he was such a tease.

“I’m joking, sweets. I’m just here for my Halloween costume.” Such a fucking lie. But he needed to establish a common ground.

You sighed in relief.

“Me too. We had the same idea.” You didn’t protest at the nickname. Eddie tried not to smirk. You were happy to see him. He had to ball his fists to keep from touching you.

“What are you going as? I haven’t decided.” Eddie forced himself to sound light hearted but he truly needed an idea. You set the stage on his actions.

You gestured, “Follow me and I’ll show you.”

And then you stuck out your hand. Eddie thought he would bust in his pants. He accepted as you gently guided him to the other side of the store, where a large amount of costumes were hanging on the wall. Your grip was firm, warm and steady. You were confident in taking his hand. Eddie’s eyes were glued to your lower half, covered by the fitted dress. Your calves peeked out from the slits on the side. He saw more ink. How many tattoos did you have? He wanted to explore them. Compare them to his. You came to a stop and released him. Eddie wanted to stop you, grab your hand again.

“I’m going with this,” You pointed to the hanging plastic bag and Eddie followed direction.

The picture was a Sweeney Todd costume. Fake blood included and wig. It would be hot. You could pull off anything. But the wig he wanted to protest against. Covering your perfect hair? The hair he wanted to dig his fingers in and pull? Caress? Both? “That’s a great one. I think you’ll stand out. Not everyone knows that reference.”

You smiled again. Eddie felt like he won the lottery. “I like to stand out from the crowd, I guess. My best friend is throwing a Halloween party this year. And I finally had the day off to come here.” Eddie nodded, swallowing the urge to reveal he already knew that.

“I hope you’re not working too hard but I can’t stop listening to the CD. You knew exactly what I needed.” Your hands reached up, pressing against your chest. “You really like it? I’m not used to someone actually agreeing with me.” Eddie couldn’t believe that. Who could resist you? Who wouldn’t give your favorite band a try? He would fix that problem.

“Why wouldn’t I like it, sweets? I’ll have to get more recommendations soon, it makes my driving more exciting.” You opened your mouth to respond but something caught your eye and you excitedly beamed.

Eddie turned, desperate to find what caught your attention other than him.

“That’s my favorite slasher movie! If I hadn’t already decided on this, I would wear that.” Eddie’s eyes widened. It was a Ghostface costume. Why didn’t he know that? He ground his teeth. He should have looked closer at your posts. Maybe he would have seen it. You had amazing taste in movies.

“An amazing movie. That would have also been a perfect choice. But I’m not sure anyone could be scared of you, pretty girl. You’re way too sweet.” The names slipped out his mouth before he could catch himself. But you dipped your head and bashfully peeked at him through your lashes.

He couldn’t believe this was happening. He itched to say more, compliment you more but he didn’t want to freak you out. Especially considering he watched your instagram everyday to know exactly what you were doing but he needed you. He would do whatever he needed to make you feel the same way.

Your phone started to ring. Eddie wanted to beg you not to answer. No, stay here in the moment. You sighed, holding the device up. “It’s my dad. I need to take this. But I hope I’ll see you at the store again! And maybe we can talk more. You really get me.” And then you turned away, quietly speaking to your father.

Each time he managed to speak to you, get somewhere, it was interrupted. But this wouldn’t be wasted. No. Eddie moved away from you, as painful as it was and quickly picked up the Ghostface costume. He didn’t know how he would make this work but god damn it he would.

Eddies emotions went beyond his limit when he was hunched over, phone glued to his hand as he poured over your story on his bed when he got home. Your stories consisted of showing off the costume you bought and then several memes about Halloween being everyday for you. And then you posted your old looks. Most of them were edgy, skulls, prosthetics and some were even masks. Except one. You were wearing a short, thigh high black dress. Fishnets and heels. Your face painted with the Crow makeup. Your chest ink and your leg tattoos were on display.

The intricate thorns that wrapped around both thighs but on the left center was a large showing of multiple flowers. On the right was a skull, jaw slightly open to allow a dark snake to wrap around.

His cock felt like it was going to burst but he would not give in. He just didn’t know what to do. How would he get into the party? Sneak in? He was going insane.

And that’s when Steve hit him up. When Eddie answered the phone, Steve proceeded to explain that there was a Halloween party at a penthouse. And the owner just so happened to be your best friend.

Eddie thanked whatever universe, energy or even a God if he even bothered to look at him considering what he was doing. It was Halloween night. He wore the long, black gown. A black shirt and jeans underneath. Heavy boots. Most importantly, the Mask. Steve charmed the security, getting them both inside. The lights were off only to be be replaced with LED strips covering the edges of the wall and even the ceiling.

The living room was spacious, modern furniture and sleek tables covered in red cups, beer bottles and liquor bottles. He squinted his eyes, his vision obscured by the mask. No one paid much attention to him, most people had some sort of horror film costume, he wasn’t the only Ghostface. Fuck. How would you tell it was him? He did all of this for you. Music blared, he could feel it in his chest as he walked around the penthouse. Stepping on decorations fallen to the wood floor.

Steve left his side but Eddie knew he was looking for the hostess of this party. Where were you?

There.

His breath hitched and he froze in the doorway of the kitchen. You were pouring a drink in a solo cup. Your costume was perfect. The white puffed sleeves, black vest and striped pants. Fake blood coated your hands, darkening your fingernails. You weren’t wearing a wig, instead you had the signature white streak in your hair. Good. You didn’t need the wig. He opened his mouth to talk but you turned and started walking into the next room.

No. No. Why did he take so fucking long? He was here right now. He used so much effort to be close to you. Eddie took a steadying breath. And he walked directly behind you, he kept trying to tap your shoulder but you were quick. Nearly jogging. His boots hit against the floor, growing louder from speed. You maneuvered through the crowd. Where you going? He almost lost you but you started climbing the stairs where more cobwebs and pumpkins sat.

Were you running from him? From someone else? Was your best friend up here? His mind raced with endless options as he continued prowling behind you. No one was here. He almost slammed into you as you abruptly halted.

You spun around.

“Eddie, why are you following me?” Oh, fuck.

Up close, your makeup was messy. Eyeliner smudged heavily, your lips were dark and glossy. You looked up at him through lashes. But you didn’t sound angry. Or fearful.

You sounded…playful.

He tilted his head. “I was-“

“It’s okay, Eddie. I know you’ve been following me. I know every time you look at my pictures. I knew that you followed me home. And it wasn’t an accident at the store the other day. I was hoping you would buy this.” You reached over, grasping the material of the cloak between your fingers.

Eddie grew hot. He thought he could be subtle but apparently not. You knew the whole time. But why weren’t you upset? He didn’t want you to be. But that would have been naive.

He clutched your hand. “I couldn’t help it. You’re perfect. The moment I saw you, I knew I needed you. I needed to see you, make sure you were safe. I can’t get you out of my mind. Fuck. And I just wanted to be here tonight to finally talk to you without being interrupted. All I’ve done is listen to the album you love. I know you said you weren’t mad but please, god I need you. I need to feel you. I need to-“

“Fuck me?” You finished. “Did you touch yourself while looking at me, Eddie?”

He was buzzing, ignited from the way your lips were in a smirk. You stepped closer and with your free hand, you removed his mask. His hair was even messier and his nostrils flared as he took in your perfume.

He was almost against the wall but he couldn’t take it. Eddie’s hands gripped your hips and he smashed his lips to yours. You tasted better than he imagined. And you met his intensity. Eddie flipped so you were the one pinned against the wall, diving his tongue inside your mouth. His cock was so hard it hurt and he pressed his pelvis against yours, grinding into you. A moan escaped your mouth and he reached down, grasping your knee and pulling it around his hip. He could feel how wet you were through your pants.

Eddie ripped away from your mouth, moving to concentrate to the soft skin of your neck when you grabbed him by his arm and burst through a door he didn’t notice was there. He only had time to register a bed in the center of the room before you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pulled his bottom lip with your teeth. “I wanted you the first day you came in,” You murmured. Eddie pushed your back against the bed, landing him on top of you and he straddled your lap.

“I-can I-can I fuck you?” He had to ask, as frenzied as he felt, he needed you to want it as much as he did.

“Fuck, Eddie. Yes, I want it so bad.” You whined, arching your back into him as he buried his face in your neck, peppering kisses against your jaw before sucking the spot above your collar bone.

You tore off the cloak, before taking off his black shirt with it and running your hands down his chest, stomach before tugging his belt. Eddie lifted his head, helping you as he kicked off his jeans. But he wanted to taste you. He slid down, peeling off your tight pants and your underwear. Eddie got impossibly harder as you mewled as he separated your legs.

Your cunt dripped with arousal and he spread it apart, coating his thick fingers. He dove in, flattening his tongue against your clit. Eddie moaned at your sweet taste as he licked down your slit before slipping his tongue inside you. You were jerking your hips to hump his face, his nose continually hitting the sensitive nerves in the center.

“I’m gonna cum.” Eddie didn’t speed up, he stayed hungrily lapping your pussy and your movement locked, your thighs squeezing his head. The entire lower half of his face was glistening as he pulled away.

Eddie crawled over you and captured your lips in a bruising kiss. Smearing cum all over your mouth, messing your lipstick even further. Just like he imagined.

“Please, fuck me.” You whimpered and he clumsily took off his boxers, releasing his heavy cock leaking with precum.

Eddie lined his dick against you before pressing inside, stretching your pussy as you clenched around him. He groaned from deep in his chest and shuddered. Your nails dug into his skin as he started thrusting, deep and hard. The bed was slamming against the wall.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking perfect, baby.”

He couldn’t even speak anymore, you felt so good he saw stars and he loved the pain from you scratching him. “I’m-I’m close.”

He wanted to hold off for you but the way you cried out, burying your face on his shoulder, Eddie spilled into you. Fuck condoms, he thought. His breath came in choked pants as he pulled out and scooped you into his arms. He was completely naked and you only had a shirt on, that he planned on removing once he caught his breath.

“I can’t believe you knew the whole time. And I can’t believe you liked me back.”

Your head turned as he held you close to him, his arms tight around you. He never wanted to let you go. Now that he’s tasted you, he could never stop.

“Eddie, why do you think I let you follow my account? Why do you think I told you to listen to bad omens? I wanted you to think about me. Besides, your friend Steve pulling the same move on my best friend.”

Dividers by @cxrrodedcoffin

Tagging @cxrrodedcoffin @bloodibambiidoll @userchai @stillwjk-channie-lixie @littlexdeaths @loserboysandlithium @lesservillain @take-everything-you-can @taintandviolent @starkeysprincess @oceanblvd111 @marchsfreakshow @eddiesxangel @xxladymjxx

#Eddie Munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n

341 notes · View notes

lethalhades · 1 month ago

Text

The sins of one were the sins of all

(Honestly I wrote this because my girl just needs a fucking hug and IM TIRED😭🙏🏾)

Themes: jinx x fem reader, hurt and comfort, we braiding her hair twin.

Didn’t proof read this or nothing I just cooked.

Navigating the dim, twisting pathways of the underground wasn’t how you planned to spend your day, but finding Jinx was all that mattered now. As you searched, a place suddenly came to mind. a spot she’d likely retreat to, a familiar hideaway.

Without hesitation, you picked up the pace, heading straight for the Last Drop and slipping in through the back door.

Your footsteps reverberated off the walls as you climbed the narrow staircase toward Silco’s office. In the past, just approaching this door would have made your skin crawl, the weight of his presence heavy and unsettling. But now… that feeling was gone, vanished with him the night he was killed.

All that remained was an empty silence behind the door, where his shadow used to linger.

Your fingertips lightly grazed the door before you pushed it open, the creak echoing in the empty room, confirming what you already suspected…Silco’s office was vacant.

You’d hoped to find Jinx here, but a part of you knew it was a long shot. Still, as you stepped inside, your eyes fell on the desk, where a map lay scattered with Jinx’s chaotic scribbles, a sign she’d been here recently.

Almost on instinct, you reached for the map, lifting it carefully with both hands, including the hexcore-tainted one. You usually kept it hidden beneath your cloak, the sight of it stirring a mix of frustration and shame. Someday, you knew, you’d have to accept it. but for now, it stayed mostly in shadow, a reminder of what you’d become.

“This is the first time I’ve seen your hand in years.” The voice jolted you, and before you knew it, you’d hurled a dagger in her direction, missing the blue-haired woman by barely an inch.

Catching your breath, you glared. “I’ve been searching everywhere for you, and now you decide to show up?” Annoyance laced your words. She slid smoothly off the beam, landing on the desk. That’s when you noticed her long hair was loose, spilling over her shoulders and onto the desk—no braids, just a cascade of untamed blue.

She caught you staring and raised an eyebrow. “I was trying to braid it back, but… Silco always did that for me.” Her raspy voice betrayed no hint of vulnerability; it was like a wall she always kept up around you.

You hesitated, almost tempted to ask why she kept her walls up in the first place, but you knew better than to press her boundaries.

Jinx stared at the ground, her eyes shadowed and distant, tracking your movements as you stepped behind the desk and eased into the old, creaking chair. When your fingers brushed her hair, she flinched, jerking back just slightly. You couldn’t help but wonder if, beneath that tough exterior, she was still afraid.

You’d known each other since she went by “Powder,” before the undercity had forced both of you to grow hard and cold.

You’d come to Zaun after being cast out of Piltover, your family’s sins leaving you no choice. You weren’t like them, but in Piltover, the sins of one were the sins of all. Survival in the undercity was brutal, especially for a kid, and you still remembered how close you’d come to losing your life again and again.

But then, like a spark in the dark, she had come barreling into your life. small but fierce, her blue hair a shock of color in the dim streets. Powder, a kid with more guts than anyone you’d ever known. And on that night, she’d been your savior. A little bomb in her hand, tossed without hesitation, scattering the men who meant to hurt you.

That tiny blast had done more than drive them off. it had bound you and Powder together, two lost souls in the chaos of Zaun.

Back then, she was just another lost kid who had found purpose under Silco’s wing. The pain in her eyes had been unmistakable, a pain you recognized all too well. It was the same haunted look your mother had worn the day she brought ruin upon your family.

If you were being honest with yourself, you’d only decided to toughen up that day because you couldn’t stand the idea of being outdone by someone younger, someone with less to lose. She was three years your junior, but her boldness had sparked something in you, forcing you to swallow your fear and find strength you didn’t know you had. Unlike her, though, you’d never bent the knee to some ruthless leader. You carved your own path, becoming a gun for hire, bound to nothing and no one.

Over the years, you’d killed without hesitation, Piltover elites and undercity rogues alike. Survival demanded sacrifice, and you were willing to make it.

Every now and then, your paths would cross, and you’d catch glimpses of the girl who once called herself “Powder,” now transformed into Silco’s weapon. Meanwhile, you had grown too, honing your skills and eventually joining the Firelights, giving your life a new sense of direction.

Now, with the undercity on the brink, chaos breaking loose at every turn, you looked up from your thoughts to find jinx’s back facing you, her head slightly turned seeing her violet eyes sharp and curious. “What are you doing?” she asked, her voice carrying an edge of suspicion.

“Braiding your hair, if you’d just sit still,” you replied, fingers deftly weaving through her loose blue strands. Her hair, soft but tangled, For a moment, she held still. watching you work with an expression you couldn’t quite read, letting you bring order to just one small piece of her wildness. You were lucky you still had some skill in this, after all the times you’d braided the younger kids’ hair back in the Firelights’ hideout. Your hands knew how to be gentle, even if the rest of you had learned to be anything but.

As you worked, Jinx’s voice broke the silence. “Every day, he had me making something for him. Or doing that stupid eye thing of his, even though he could’ve done it himself,” she muttered, bitterness edging her words as she thought about all the things she’d done for Silco.

You could see the weight of his lies on her, the way they’d sunk deep. She’d believed him completely—why wouldn’t she?

“My mother expected perfection from me,” you said softly, finding a rare thread of common ground. “One slip, one failure, and I was nothing but a disappointment to her.” For a moment, it felt like you and Jinx were standing on the same edge, each of you marked by different scars but both shaped by people who’d held you to impossible standards.

Both of you had been praised for your minds, raised to rise above, only to lose it all. And when you needed someone most, they had all turned away.

“You were just some Piltover rat. You don’t know a damn thing about what it takes to survive down here.”

You met her gaze, the old anger simmering beneath your words. “I know more than you think,” you replied, voice steady and unyielding. “I lost everything before I even got the chance to hold it,” you added, memories of that day, of watching your family fall apart, still as raw as ever.

Jinx scoffed, crossing her arms. “Why are you telling me this? You think I care?”

“No,” you said, fingers deftly weaving the last of her braids. “But I thought you’d understand.” You secured her signature pigtails, then took a step back, crossing your arms as you faced her. “You followed him because you had nowhere else to turn, no one else to show you the way. But he’s gone now, Jinx. And yet, you’re still clinging to his ghost, acting like he’s still here.”

She bristled, eyes flashing. “I’m not mourning him! That’s the last thing I’d ever do for him.”

“Then prove it,” you challenged, voice calm but firm. “Find something real to fight for. Not for a man who only wanted control and used your loyalty to his advantage.”

Jinx took a step forward, her violet eyes sharp and angry as she glared up at you, defiance sparking between you like a fuse ready to ignite. You held her gaze, searching for the truth hidden beneath her rage. In those eyes, you saw things she would never say aloud.

confusion, anger, the scars of betrayal.

It reminded you of that night at the Last Drop, the night you’d tried to pull her away from Silco’s grip and convince her to join the Firelights. She’d laughed it off, but you’d seen the hesitation, the crack in her armor. That night, things nearly went south between you. one wrong word, and a bullet could’ve ended it all. Now, standing here again, that same tension lingered in the air, fragile and sharp, like the calm before a storm.

“Why do you keep acting like you know me?” Jinx’s voice was sharp, bitter, violet blue eyes wild with frustration as she shoved you. “Like you have any clue what I’ve been through!” She pushed you again, harder this time, her finger jabbing into your chest. “You don’t know anything!”

Her anger flared, and she kept pushing, shoving you back again and again until you finally reached out and caught her wrist.

She tried to pull away, struggling against your hold, but you pulled her closer, wrapping your arms around her, holding her tightly. Her fists came down hard on your back, each punch sharp with anger and pain. It hurt, but you didn’t let go, not even as her punches weakened, not even as her shoulders slumped against you.

The room grew quiet, save for the small, choked sobs that broke free as she stopped fighting and finally gave in. Her fingers gripped the back of your cloak, holding on like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.

Her cries were raw, almost hollow, filled with a pain you knew she rarely allowed herself to show.

You just held her, steady and silent, giving her the space to release what she’d been holding back. You didn’t hate her, not for her choices, not for her mistakes. Somehow, despite everything, all you’d ever wanted was to help her find her way back from the darkness.

As her breathing slowed, she didn’t say a word, but her quiet acceptance in your arms told you everything. In that fragile silence, you knew that, at least for this moment.

you were exactly where you needed to be.

#jinx #jinx lol #jinx x reader #jinx x fem!reader #jinx arcane #jinx league of legends #jinx needs a hug #comfort #oc mention #we love her #jinx posting

304 notes · View notes

sugusatosluut · 1 year ago

Text

Look, don’t touch

Choso Kamo x Fem!reader

MDNI✨

Includes: Smut, grumpy choso, rough sex, clingy and jealous choso ;)

Also hi! :) hope everyone is starting the new year off fantastic! I’m here and ready to be mutuals with other creators on here. A comment on who to write about + a prompt would be nice :) my ask is open as well! Much love,

Fran <3

Your time spent being Kenjaku’s favorite pupil was exhausting. You sometimes spent time with the other pawns that Kenjaku lured with the promise of something different that each of them had valued, even yourself. Your favorite though, was Choso Kamo. Even though he was definitely a loner, he would sometimes share things with you, like food or techniques. He’d back you up on missions, volunteer to ‘protect you’ during reconnaissance and both of those ended up with him pushing your face into the sheets of a hotel room that you had frequented when you didn’t feel like traveling back to the hideout. This one mission in particular, Kenjaku opted to tag along as well.

“My sweetest pupil, one of my most prized possessions. You’ve nearly mastered this technique, is this the result of choso helping you during your spare time?” He asked.

“Yes Master Kenjaku.” You bowed your head.

Choso looked over as Kenjaku picked your head up with two fingers and got awfully close to your face. His lips were mere centimeters from your own, and he used the body of Suguru Geto to give you a warm smile. He liked the feeling of Choso’s eyes watching every twinge of movement between you and other individuals, it’s almost like he wanted to see how far he could push choso until he made him snap and show his true colors.. he liked that they were similar, but kenjaku’s fantasy was set aside to tend to his other pupils. Before he removed his fingers from your chin, Kenjaku looked you up and down, before smirking and leaving.

After he left, choso let out a deep sigh he had been holding. God it really got to him that Kenjaku really knew how to get under his skin, he knew somewhat about Choso’s ‘crush’ on you, but not what you two did on or after missions. Choso quietly made his way over to you after Kenjaku left.

“I don’t like the way he looks at you.” He pouted from across the room.

“I can’t help that. I have to please Kenjaku.. but it doesn’t top wanting to please you, choso.” You smirked picking your head up to look at choso, who was clearly hot and bothered by both your words and your interaction with Kenjaku.

He huffed. It was something so simple and he already knew you weren’t into your ‘master’ but he wanted to hear it straight from your mouth.

Choso got up and quit his pouting. His face was serious and his demeanor was filled with tension.

“Get up.”

“Hm? Cho-“

“Get up.”

Choso grabbed your hand and pulled you into kenjaku’s resting place.. or office, whatever he called it, roughly pinning you between him and the door. His breath hot on your neck. All those taunting moments finally got to him, so he was going to take it further. He planted sloppy, wet kisses all over your neck and lips, sucking on your lips and shoving his hands up your top. You had no time to react, pure ecstasy shot through your body. Choso could do whatever he wanted to you and that was just the fact of the matter.

Suddenly he wrapped your hair into a ponytail around his palm, your whole body moving wherever he pulled you to go. He stopped you right in front of Kenjaku’s desk, aggressively pulling your skirt up. He rubbed circles on your puffy clit, his fingers feeling how wet you were just from kissing you.

“Choso-“ you panted.

“No- not until you tell me I’m your only master.” He grunted as he pulled your underwear to the side. He slid his cock up and down your folds, his tip throbbing at just the feeling of making contact with your precious cunt. He was grunting with anticipation, the reality of how rough he was being set in, but he couldn’t stop now. Is this what Kenjaku wanted? No- is this what you wanted? You wanted him to be rough with you and mark his territory, to fuck you in your master’s office, to see how only choso could make you weep, squirt and moan, how he could be the only man to destroy you and please you all at once. He wanted you to know that there was nobody else your cunt would willingly accept in all it’s tightness.

“Please, Cho- put it in, god! I- need you so bad.” You moaned gripping the desk. Choso had your ponytail in one hand and grabbed onto your waist with the other. He placed his body behind yours, embracing you, squeezing your hips and massaging them as he whispered in your ear.

“Tell me who your master is and I might just let you cum, pretty.” Choso’s words made your body shiver. He gave no warning before plunging his cock into your hole.

“G-gah!” You let out.

Choso was relentless. His behavior was far off than what you’ve seen prior to his odd jealousy. Choso never got jealous of anything as far as you knew.. but you were also oblivious of a lot of things. Your moans filled the air as choso waited for you to say what he needed to hear.

“Say it-mmm- say it or you’re not going to cum Princess.” I grunted as lewd sounds filled the air in Kenjaku’s space. You couldn’t take it anymore as your walls clenched around him, your throat letting out groans and moans before being able to speak through choso’s rough thrusts into you from behind.

“Y-you’re my one and only master choso, only you can have me!” You whined as you clenched harder around him. The enthusiasm and build up in your stomach was nearly edging you until choso said it..

“You can cum Princess, I’m right here- god you’re so tight I’m gonna - fuck! tch…” he panted before both of you came simultaneously. Choso kissed a line up your spine and pulled himself out slowly. He watched for a second as your hole dripped the mixture of the two of you out slowly. He turned you back around to himself and caressed your face. He wasn’t ever this affectionate. You figured maybe choso only wanted to hookup, but this only proved to you that Choso Kamo was a jealous man.

“Cho, were you jealous?” You smirked at him.

He sighed.

“A- a little yeah.. I think I would like to take you on a proper date to ask you out. When you have time though. Don’t want to piss off that old bastard.” Choso rolled his eyes.

“I’d love that choso.” You smiled.

1K notes · View notes

lxclerc · 1 year ago

Text

𝐢 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ─ 𝐜𝐥𝟏𝟔

summary... a reunion between old lovers after five years and charles can't keep his eyes off of you. or his thoughts for that matter. faceclaim... christina nadin pairing… charles leclerc x reader warning… none so far. petty charles.

note... this is going to be part of a series that includes both one shots and smau but can be read as a stand alone

series masterlist

main masterlist

part two → current (part three) → part four

charles is a mess. truthfully this is to be expected but after five years, he thought he would be better than this but alas, you’re still as magnetic as he remembered you to be – even more so, if he’s being completely honest with himself.

you look different – older. where they used to be rounded, baby face is all sharp bones. your hair looks different, longer and styled. and you smell different too, no longer the floral scent you’ve been using since you turned fourteen.

you’re a stranger, he thought. he no longer knows your favorite color or your favorite meal or if you still like strawberry yogurt. he doesn’t know your favorite show or what perfume you use. he doesn’t know you. you’re a stranger and yet your eyes still do that thing where it creases to the point of being close when you smile and you still run your hand over your hair in an attempt to subtly fix it and your eyes still looks like pooled honey when the sun shines on it.

you’re so different, a practical stranger and yet so familiar, like going back to a childhood home finding everything in the wrong place yet still knowing your way around with your eyes closed.

he’s staring. he knew he is and he knew the amount of trouble he’d get from his team for it. he knew that everyone on twitter was probably already freaking out about it. he had clear instructions to act like nothing had happened and that the leaked pictures didn’t exist all. he’s supposed to act like you’re just another interviewer and this is just another media obligation he’s forced to do and you’re no one to him but he can’t help it. he can’t pretend like you’re a stranger when you left such a big imprint in his soul and he doesn’t have every freckle and skin tag and every inch of your skin memorized.

and so he stares. he stares at the way you shift in your seat in an attempt to get comfortable. he stares at the way the long sleeved white dress hugged your curves. he stares at the way you smile, the way you laugh. he stares and tries to remind his heart the way you’d left, the way he’d begged you stay. with you a few feet in front of him, closer than you’ve ever been in years, charles reminds himself the things he had to do to put himself back together after you broke him.

he tells himself that he hates you the same way he has been telling himself for five years now. he hates you and the way you walked away from him so easily. he hates you and the way you moved on so quickly. he hates you now for the way you’re not even affected. he hates you for loving him only to leave him.

“and that’s all for today, everyone,” you say with that dazzling smile that makes him dizzy. he needs to get away from you. you’re clouding his judgment and messing with his emotions.

after making sure the camera has stopped rolling, charles quickly removes the mic attached to him. the smile drops from your face as you see him so desperately hurried to get away from you. though you supposed you deserved that.

“mate, you good?” carlos asked him quietly as charles practically slams the mic on the table. he seems worried and charles hadn’t even realized how angry he looks right now. he glanced at you, watching as you discussed with the producer, the wind blowing at your hair and the careless smile on your face. he hates you but you’re also the most beautiful person he’s ever met. he hates you and he’s so fucking tired of wanting you.

he forced a smile on his face for carlos’ sake. “fine.”

he’s already walking away when you called his name, not like you had in the show – filled with fake friendliness. this time, his name rolled off your tongue effortlessly. you called his name like you had a thousand times before, like nothing has ever changed. the entire set was calling to him but he didn’t seem to hear.

“charles,” you called and immediately, he stopped in his tracks. he only heard your call and somehow that made him angrier at himself than he ever could be at you.

his face is empty and void of any emotions as he turns to you and you swallow down the lump in your throat as you force a smile at him. you hoped it doesn’t look as fake as it feels. “we need to take a picture. for social media.”

he may as well have spat at you with the look in his eyes. it made you feel small. he makes you feel small and suddenly you’re eighteen again, so small and insignificant next to him.

as you and the two ferrari drivers posed for the photo, both charles and carlos respectfully wrapped an arm around you. you can feel the heat of charles’ body next to you, seeping right through your dress and spreading across your skin. his cologne is different – more rich and expensive but somehow still so him but his aftershave is the same as it has been since he was fifteen, so familiar and comforting to you and you almost can’t help but lean into him.

he’s pulling away before you can gather your thoughts, already walking away from you.

—

charles should be celebrating. he finished on the podium which is pretty much a miracle nowadays. in fact, it’s a miracle to even be finishing the race with how his season is going but he’s been pretty distracted the whole weekend, seemingly only ever able to get you out of his head whenever he’s going two hundred miles per hour. he almost wants to laugh if he doesn't feel so pathetic. it’s somehow still exactly like before - with him needing to find some ways to risk his life just to be able to get you out of his mind.

drinking the night away as he wallowed in self pity due to the thought of you is also entirely too familiar.

“mon pote, comment peux-tu encore la laisser te faire ça ?” hugo asked, watching him. “cela fait des années” mate, how are you still letting her do this to you?... it’s been years.

charles only gave a sarcastic smile. he doesn’t entirely know the answer to do that either. apparently the years between the two of you didn’t matter because you still have the exact same reaction to him. you make him lose his fucking mind, unable to to think straight. he does things he says he never will when it comes to you. he becomes desperate and weak and unable to handle his own emotions. he doesn’t understand himself when you’re around.

maybe that’s why you left in the first place. the two of you affected each other far too much. it’s entirely too easy to get lost in each other and forget about everything else.

“elle a l'air différente. elle a aussi une odeur différente,” he says before taking another shot. you’re so different and he hated it. he hates that there are things in your life he doesn’t know anymore. he hates the fact that you changed your perfume and that you can so easily pretend like he’s no one to you. if you can act like he’s no one to you so easily then perhaps he didn’t mean as much to you as he thought he did. she looks different. she smells different too.

you were his lifeline, the air in his lungs. you were everything and he would have given up anything just to keep you. he would have given up racing and his dreams – everything so he didn’t have to lose you.

joris rolls his eyes. he knows this entirely too well unfortunately, he’s seen this exact scene before. “cela fait cinq ans, charles. bien sûr qu'elle a changé.” it's been five years, charles. of course she's changed.

that only makes him laugh bitterly.

—

on the other side of the city lies you, cocooned in your fleece blanket as you stare at the wall.

throughout the years that you and charles have bumped into each other, it had mostly been just surprise in his eyes – as though he could never quite believe that you’re in front of him. usually, you’ll be gone before it can change.

today was different. there’s no surprise in his eyes nor was there any of the familiar warmth you’re so used to. today, he was filled with anger and indifference. he looked at you as though he hated you. and the worst part is that he probably does. the entire time it was as though he couldn’t get away from you fast enough, like he couldn’t stand even being in the same room as you. your entire life, charles has only ever looked at you with adoring and devoted eyes and now he can’t even stand to look at you.

“il ne vous déteste pas,” arthur says over the phone with a roll of his eyes as though you’re being ridiculous for even suggesting such things. he doesn’t hate you.

but arthur wasn’t there. arthur didn’t see how charles practically ran away from you. still, you say nothing to the matter, far too upset to even bother trying to defend yourself.

“i’m going to go to sleep, art,” you say softly instead. “it’s pretty late here.”

you and arthur say your goodnights before you shut off the call. but just as you’re about to place your phone down for the tonight, it lights up with a text message. your eyebrows knit together in confusion. who’d be texting you this late anyways?

taglist: @livinglifethroughfanfic @sage-butterflyy @chimchimjiminie16 @thatgirlmj @hiraethrhapsody @roseseraj @celestialams @1655clean @minkyungseokie @ssararuffoni @f1verse @honethatty12 @formulas-bitch @nmw-am @lorarri @erikasurfer @iamahallucinationn @thievin-stealing @glow-ish @raevyng @scenesofobx @coffeehurricanes @applopie @sukisheadlights @iampersonn @blueflorals @marialovesf1 @charli123456789 @127deob1

#formula 1 #f1 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #formula 1 one shot #charles leclerc fluff #formula 1 x reader #charles leclerc x you #f1 one shot #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc smau #smau #social media #formula 1 smau

1K notes · View notes

hughiecampbelle · 6 months ago

Text

The Boys Preference: Reacting To Your Tattoos

A/N: I have so many ideas for The Boys cast! Be sure to look out for more posts! I'm updating my request list to include them 😊 I'm sorry I've been a little MIA! I'll be getting back to requests asap! Hope you like it! Feedback is always appreciated 💜

Butcher loves them. This is not the moment to say something, to react, but he definitely takes notice. You got hurt, really hurt, and the only way to save you was for Annie cauterizing your wounds, buying you a little more time. Butcher didn't need to hold you down, you'd already gone limp, losing all color in your face. He begs you to wake up, to stay with them. There was so much blood. So much red. He was covered in it, seeping through his shirt. Your jacket was thrown off, the collar of your shirt torn, ripped, for easier access to your shoulder and they both discovered the tattoos. Your chest, your arm, neck, you were covered. He had a feeling there were far more, wondering why you never showed any of them. You were always so bundled up, he never even questioned it. He warned you this was going to hurt, though he wasn't even sure you could hear him. Still, as Annie's hands grew bright, he cringes, hoping you were too out of it to feel anything, hoping this would all seem like a far away dream. Hoping you won't mind the large scar that will warp your ink.

Hughie is pretty intimidated by them. The Boys are already a scary looking group, but meeting you, he thought you were going to bite off his head. Your body was pretty covered. After getting to know you, he realizes how wrong he was. You're snarky and stubborn, but you're also thoughtful and funny. If it were up to you, you'd never hurt a fly, just Vought. Still, every so often you'll do or say something that reminds him of that first impression, especially when you feel threatened or your friends are threatened. You'll show up with a few new ones, filling in the gaps. When it comes to open wounds you're ready to treat it with a strong drink and duct tape. When it comes to your tattoos, you're meticulous in your aftercare. He's never seen you so serene looking as when you're taking care of them, so gentle. Something about that makes him feel like he shouldn't be witnessing it, but he's grateful that he is. When they're in tricky spots, he's the first to offer to help. He works with nervous hands, afraid he'll do something to ruin it. You just laugh, walking him through it.

Annie knows all about your tattoos. They are, after all, linked to the V in your blood. You didn't start developing them until your late teens, your parents assuming the V they injected was a dud. Images started appearing and with them, your powers. By the time she met you, you were covered. You didn't like showing off to The Boys. You still had a long way to go to gaining their trust. Parading around the fact that you were a Supe wasn't going to help. Still, when it was just you and Annie you were less reluctant to show her. All kinds of images adorned your skin: weapons, insects, animals. You liked the weapons the best. The thing could project itself from your skin as if it were real. In seconds, you had a sword in each hand, as real and sharp as if you'd physically gotten one. The best part? Your skin was indestructible. Every few months, maybe years, a new tattoo would appear, giving you a leg up in the fight against Vought. She thinks you have by far the most interesting powers of any Supe she's met.

M.M. hates them. Because they're linked to the V you got as a baby, he sees them more of a warning than anything else, the way brightly colored animals are poisonous. He hadn't realized the first time you met, what they were from, and you were smart enough not to tell him. It was only when you were fighting for your life did you use your abilities: the circles on the back of your neck, layered, you let out a sonic scream that shattered windows, set off car alarms, and drew blood. The group that had attacked you were coughing it up, it was running down their necks from their ears. M.M. was far enough away not to be affected, but the way he tells it, he was *this* close to having his insides turned to goo. Some were safe enough to run away. The ones who were closer dropped dead with a wet squelch. He trusts you even less for not telling him. When he breaks the news to everyone else, he's shocked to find out that they either knew (like Annie) or they were unfazed, more impressed than anything else, like you'd become this great asset. You apologize profusely, but you know it'll be a long time before he can even look you in the eyes.

Frenchie thinks they're so cool. He went with you once and got one of his own: while you were getting a rather large piece finished, he wants to get a smiley face on his ass cheek. Despite the discomfort, Frenchie's all giggles. He's more than excited to show this off to everyone he decides to moon. You try to tell him how to take care of it, but he waves you off. He's eager to show The Boys. He's lucky it heals properly and by the end of the week, everyone he comes into contact with has seen it. Besides that, his favorite thing is to study the ones you have. They're intricate and beautiful and some of them are pretty silly. You never understood the sentiment that there had to be some grand kind of meaning behind them. If you like it, you get it tattooed. He asks questions about them, most done all over the world or, a couple, in prison. He thinks you look badass, especially when you shed the bulky layers and show off what they normally don't get to see. Your back piece is his favorite. When you're wearing something with a low back, or disregard a shirt completely, he can't help but watch you. You're careful, covering them with clothes or makeup so that whatever illegal thing you're doing can't be traced.

Kimiko asks a lot of questions. Did it hurt? Why that image? What does it mean? How long did it take? You never mind, in fact you like talking about them. You spent enough time getting stabbed, you wanted someone to ask. She especially loves the ones on your hands. They look beautiful as you sign back to her. Some are still a little raised despite how well you took care of them, those are her favorite. She touches them delicately, afraid it might hurt, but you assure her they're all healed. She watches when you're getting changed together, how they move with your skin and muscles. They make her smile knowing you feel so much more at home in your body because of them, something you admitted to her late one night after a few drinks. They help you like yourself, covering up insecurities, making you feel cuter/cooler than you would without them. She's always the first to notice when you get a new one, making a point regardless of the situation to tell you how nice it looks and that she likes it a lot.

Bonus! Homelander thinks they're horrendous. Disgusting. Just another way you've defiled your body. He can't stand to look at them and made sure you understand that. Around him, you keep them covered, either by clothing or makeup. You know better than to draw attention towards them. Regardless of how you acquired them (Compound V or just an aesthetic choice) you know not to bring them up or let anyone else bring them up. A-Train noticed the one of the back of your neck and that put Homelander over the edge. You were both thrown out of the room. You consider yourself more than lucky. He could have killed you, both of you, but he was feeling generous. He had bigger things on his mind. You knew working for Vought would lead to sacrifices, uncomfortable situations, but being interrogated by Homelander about your tattoos was never something you ever considered. He thinks about using his lasers every time he sees them poking out from your sleeve or pants. But he needs you. As long as he needs you, you're safe. The moment you stop being useful, he's going to cut off every individual image until there's nothing left. Until you look normal again.

500 notes · View notes

shaisuki · 7 days ago

Note

Can you make an yandere oliver aiku x chubby reader pls? 🙏

❝ A EMPTY CUP FOR YOU TO FILL. ❞

⚕ FEATURING. YANDERE! OLIVER AIKU

CONTENT WARNINGS. nothing extreme and mostly it's oliver flirting and attempting to seduce reader + trust issues + rejection + intern/journalist reader

SYNOPSIS. oliver have charmed many people in his life including you but you weren't too keen on giving up to his charms and oliver can accept it for the mean time and he would have you.

the first thing oliver notices on women is how pretty they are. their lashes fluttering like butterfly's wings. eyes that looks at him so adoringly that they say yes without him blinking and lips colored by the cutest shade of lipstick that leave marks on his skin and the body follows next. nobody's too ugly or pretty for aiku as long he likes them. everything's fine.

when oliver meet you, the first thing he notices is how warm your gaze are. the deep rich color of your eyes staring on his own mismatched colored eyes and oliver swear you knew all the darkest secrets he have for a minute. he didn't notice you at first. there were too many pretty gals walking around and he least expected you. the intern for the soccer journal waiting to get bits of his personal life for people to criticize including you cause this is what all about to be an athlete is for others to pick you apart.

“you lost, pretty girl?” is what aiku told you the first time you meet. his eyes wandering and taking every curve and dip that fills your work clothes. consisting of a navy blue fitted blouse and dark washed jeans accompanied with low-block heels.

a subtle raise of your eyebrow and the corners of your eyes crinkle at his words. “no. i'm not lost. i'm here for the interview.” his sight darts to the lanyard attached to your id. the word intern highlighted in big bold capital letters below your name. he licks his lips. it gets dry for some time and it won't be bad to steal a kiss from you, not when your lips looking so luscious. coated in a thin sheen of gloss.

“fire any questions, sweetheart. i'm going to answer them as honestly if possible.” a smug grin in his lips and you meet his eyes. staring right back at you. “that would be appreciated.”

it looks like you were immune to his charms. deflecting the subtle signs of him flirting and he knows you're not that oblivious to any of his advances and aiku enjoy a little bit of challenge and just like any other girls that plays hard to get, he'll crack them and you'll be wanting him like the others did. this interview will play right to his advances.

so the interview started and aiku began to show you off the textbook flirting and what kind of gentleman he can be. he brought you to a cafe that you like. you weren't really impressed by it. a interview with the former captain of the under 20 is much important than the person itself.

“you know, i'm only here for the interview. you don't need to bring me here. any place would be fine.” is what you say when you both settled down. “don't worry about that, my pleasure to make you comfortable.” cause aiku thought it would be the best. no annoying teammates to bother him and he knows how fond most women he dated to be taken in something as simple like the café.

“you know this won't work on me, right?” subtlety isn't one of your best attributes and you're running out of patience from how the simple questions you asked him relating to his career turns back on you. it didn't help that he was blatantly eye-fucking the girls passing outside while flirting with you.

“sharper than what i thought. you're a different kind of breed among women, eh? you're the career-driven one. you don't know how to have fun.” a amused scoff spilled past your lips. “we have the different definition of fun and it's not what you're thinking of.” you say nonchalantly, clicking your pen impatiently.

you're much tougher than you look. aiku mused. he looks outside before looking back at you. “say we have a deal. no bullshit from me and i'm giving you the dirt of my life.”

“and the catch?”

“let's hang out for a week.”

“deal.”

you didn't fight much and true to his words. the defender was compliant to all of your questions and his answers isn't what you expected to. there was a depth when you asked him what he thought of soccer and how it impacted him to this day as a athlete. it was another side of him and how passionate he was for the sport. you diligently worked on your notes. jabbing at your notepad at the important details and with the information he was giving you, you were going to write a article about him.

it was a week he spent so much fun without the attachment and for a second aiku forgot that he was supposedly seducing you but fuck the tables were turned around. he was the one being charmed by your little quirks. he lost count of how many times he was staring at your lips. it was calling out for him.

one rainy afternoon, you both ran in the streets of shibuya. the sudden downpour got you both seeking for shelter and was soaked to the bone and aiku brought you to his place. you wanted to refuse but gave up since you can't risk being sick.

aiku let you used his bathroom first and you began to stress about the change of clothing. just when you're about to stress about it, a spare of clothing was laid out for you outside the bathroom doors. aiku must left it for you and you roll your eyes. it's going to be a problem. the clothes were going to fit like a glove or else tighter. it flew right out of the window when you noticed what it was, it was his fucking jersey. well, it can work for now.

“fuck off.” you didn't give him the time to comment. your face warm and for some reason, it made you flustered to be seen in his jersey. a chuckle escaped past his lips. grinning and licking his lips at the sight of you wearing his jersey. some best decision he made last minute.

“just as i thought you couldn't be more sexier. you could wear this in my next match and by some miracle i'll be scoring goals just to show you off.” he pats the seat next to him and you settled down without a fuss. already used to his flirting. “we could work it out, you know.” he begins and you bite your lip.

“you're cool.” you paused for a moment. “but we know you're not the type to stay in a place, oliver.” aiku knows you're not referring to his place in the world but rather to his relationships. you keep him at arm's length but will never pursue any romantic relationships unless it's a platonic one and for the first time, it bothered him.

irritated at the way you keep rejecting his advances and it was true, he wasn't the one to stay for relationships but it was bad that he was bewitched by you. so utterly irresistible and tempting. he can't even tear his gaze off you.

“i value my relationships with others, oliver and i certainly don't want to ruin ours.” patting his cheek and letting the stubble in his face graze your palm. his smile falters a bit and it was starting to numb his face from how forced his smile is. you were just being honest.

he pulls you closer to his body. your soft curves molding on his hard ones. trapped in his arms while you laid beneath him. the coldness of your skin a contrast to his warmth and if aiku wasn't much of a playboy, you could have given him the chance but you can't bring yourself to risk it. any time he'll be back on his own ways and you will be left with nothing.

“we can go back to our own separate ways after this but i certainly won't let you go without doing this.” and he kisses you. a small mmph is you can muster. his tongue licking your lower lip and truth is, you're weak to such affection and you can only part your lips.

welcoming his tongue inside yours. it was much better than what oliver imagined. your lips pressed against his and when you gave the permission for him to kiss you deeply loses it. he savored it like it was the last time he was going to breath.

soft pants echoes in the silence of the room and you're both staring at each other's eyes. “that is all you're getting from me, oliver.” breathless and surrendering is the tone of your voice. you kept it this way cause if you let yourself fall for him, it would be like pouring water on a cup that is never going to be filled.

since when was the last time he got rejected and stung him like hell, he couldn't remember cause this was the first and oliver wasn't going to give up. you're going to be his, in his own way that you won't even notice it but for now, he's contented. his greed will come on later.

#♱ ⋮ shai's works⸝⸝#chubby reader #blue lock x reader #blue lock #blue lock x chubby reader #bllk x you #bllk x reader #bllk #oliver aiku #oliver aiku x reader #oliver x reader #yandere x reader #yandere themes #yandere

261 notes · View notes

thefanbasewhore · 1 year ago

Text

Skz think your skirt is too short. | Bangchan, Felix, Hyunjin and Changbin.

a/n: currently accepting preference/blurb requests for stray kids (NSFW included)

💖🌷Bang Chan:

The moment he sees you slip from the room he stands just a little bit taller. Eyes roaming over those legs, bare and soft. Your skin is forever tattooed in the pads of his fingers which he feels twitch, wanting to feel the soft ribbons of your skin.

The skirt was cute, it's flowy and matches the color of your white socks. Without even realizing he's grouping the back of your thigh, pushing you close until you're cuddled into his chest.

He presses a gentle kiss to your head but just like that a light goes off. Full protective mode is on. The brunette's hands clasp at your shoulders and pull you away to take one more look. If he's thinking this so will other guys.

"Babygirl," He starts softly, "You look so so cute and I love it but isn't is a little short?"

"But Babe," You whine, pouting and meeting his eyes. "It's not that short."

Chan scoffs, raising his eyes brows. "Yeah? Bend over, love, we'll test it."

Crossing your arms against your chest and not caring to move a muscle to challenge him. Not wanting to fall into exactly what he wants; for you to change.

"I want to wear it." Chan huffs, rolling his eyes but you know it's a facade, he can never be made at you. He pulls his hoodie off and over, messing his hair in the process but he still looked so cute as he wrapped the sleeves around your waist.

He doesn't move once it's tied; instead simply presses a kiss to your forehead. "What my baby wants she gets."

💖🌷 Felix:

The restaurant is rather crowded, he's skimming past the tables, looking around to find you. He is rather busy but promised he would make a quick trip to meet your friends. The relationship is fairly new, however, meeting the people who mean the most to you is important to him.

What he doesn't expect is you sandwiched between two guys. Well, that's dramatic, seated in SEPARATE chairs between two men. One of them has his arm resting on the back of your chair as he brings his phone closer to show you something.

As he walks closer he can't help but look at your legs, bare but crossed, causing your skirt to ride up more. No doubt the man next to you is getting an eye full. Felix pulls at his jacket, sleeve by sleeve and clears his throat; directly behind you.

Before you can even realize it's him he lays the jacket over your legs, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "Hi baby."

"Hi everyone." He bows politely. "I'm Felix."

The night went pretty well, they all seemed impressed. One of the men gave their seat up for him. During conversation he leans forward to whisper into your ear, "Your skirt is a little short, yeah?"

He watches as your nose scrunches, Felix was never protective like this before. Besides who is he to tell you? "Excuse me?"

He seems to have noticed the change, "Not like that baby, you look so pretty. I mean you keep pulling it down and moving. Just uncomfortable?"

Oh sweet little Felix, it makes you pout slightly and apologize, "I'm sorry Lix, I thought you meant something else."

"No worries, love, we can go back to mine. I'll give you some of my sweats to wear. Get my angel nice and cozy." He reaches and pinches the skin of your cheek affectionately but his hand drops once realizing the whole table is staring at you both. He clears his throat, turning as red as you in embarrassment.

💖🌷Hyunjin:

"No," Hyunjin says a little too quickly for your liking the moment you step out of the room. A frown forms on your lips showing your own disappointment.

"But I think it's cute and matches so well."

"No." His brows scrunch together, as his long finger nudges you gently to turn. The moment you do he's repeating himself, "Absolutely not."

"Baby.." you get but he's not having it.

"Too short. If you were going with me then yes, not out with your friends."

"Why not?"

"There's a lot of creeps out there, I don't want anyone thinking they will get a peak." His hand meets the small of your back, gently guiding you to the bedroom. "A little longer, petal."

"Hyunjin, I will look out for myself."

"Please, just change?" His face is only inches from your own, lips forming a soft pout. You're about to tell him no but those damn puppy eyes make you sigh.

"Fine but I'm mad at you." He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"We can go out to dinner tomorrow and you can wear it, promise, flower."

💖🌷 Changbin:

"Baby," He pouts softly watching as you apply mascara. On your tippy toes, reaching over the bathroom sink to see which makes your skirt rise up just enough to see the bottom of your underwear. "You can't go out like this, it's too short."

Changbin comes behind you, both hands on either sides of the counter, boxing you in. He's so big he takes up most of the space but you just continue to apply your makeup. "Honey, I said it's too short." He whispers against your skin before softening his words with a kiss at the shell of your ear.

"It's fine, Bin."

"Nooo." He practically whines, "You look too good, everyone is going to be staring at you."

"No one is going to be looking at me."

"What if you need to bend down? Everyone is going to see your panties and cute little butt, it's mine." He makes you laugh as you turn around wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Do you want to come with us?"

You watch his eyes light up, you want him to come to dinner with your friends?

"Wait, really babe?"

"Mhmm, of course you're always invited." Before you know it he's scrambling to get dressed but not before throwing a pair of stalkings your way.

"Sorry baby, it's so short. For my peace of mind."

#stray kids imagine #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids x reader #bang chan x reader #hyunjin x reader #felix lee x reader #changbin x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids

3K notes · View notes

prythianpages · 4 months ago

Text

Very Demure | ACOTAR x Witch Reader

━━━━━━•───⋅☽𖤐☾⋅───•━━━━━

[season of the witch masterlist]

warnings: none

a/n: The aftermath of the "very mindful, very cutesy, very demure" trend from tiktok. These are drabbles and include Az, Cas & Eris. But Az's is probably the longest at 1K words and no longer a drabble lol, Cas's is 700 and Eris's is 850.

moon divider by @tsunami-of-tears <3

━━━━━━•───⋅☽𖤐☾⋅───•━━━━━

Azriel x Green Witch

The scent of earth and herbs filled the air as you approached your patch of snapdragons, their vibrant green stems standing tall but flowerless. Kneeling beside them, you set down the small, ceramic watering can filled to the brim with moon water and reach out to touch the leaves, your fingers trailing over them as delicately as the breeze.

“Good morning, my little ones,” you murmured. "How are you feeling today?"

Your garden came to life, the plants surrounding you swaying slightly in response. All, except for the shy yet stubborn snapdragons.

You frowned.

“The soil is rich and I’ve kept the pests at bay. I’ve planted you where the sun is bright and the air is cool. Very thoughtful of me, isn’t it?”

The snapdragons still did not respond.

With a sigh, you began to water them. Snapdragons were native to Autumn and thrived during the cooler months. From what you read, these flowers had a personality of their own and despite being named after the brazen beasts that soared in the skies, they were demure.

You knew it would be difficult to get them to bloom here in the Night Court but as the Autumn season approached, you were determined to grow them yourself. Their seeds could be used to make healing oils and if the stubborn flowers favored you, they would gift you with their small but mighty fire breath that you could use to make a warming potion.

“See how I’m not overwatering you? Very mindful.” You continued, setting the watering can back down, using the oldest trick in the book. Like calls to like and if you could show the flowers that you could be like them, perhaps they’d bless you by blossoming.

“I’m not doing too much. Very demure."

You smiled fondly at them, knowing they were listening. "I understand that a beauty like yours cannot be rushed. But know that I am waiting to see your colors, to feel the warmth you bring.”

As if finally acknowledging your presence, one snapdragon in particular—a tiny bud, the smallest of them all—quivered ever so slightly. You leaned closer, your heart swelling with hope when a shadow came over you.

You rose to your feet, brushing at the dirt on your skirts as you turned around. The corners of your mouth curved upward, your heart fluttering with that familiar, gentle tug deep within your chest—the unmistakable pull of his presence.

“Azriel.” You greeted as his familiar form emerged from the shadows.

His wings shuddered, his shadows dispersing like ink in water, revealing him before they settled at his feet. As always, a few of the inky tendrils reached out to you, caressing your skin with their smooth, cool touch. One, more daring than the others, wrapped itself around your arm and nestled there, refusing to let go.

“Looks like someone missed me.” You laughed.

“I missed you more.” Azriel grinned, taking a step forward.

He reached out, his hand brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering against your cheek. You gasped at the chill of his skin, your brows knitting together in concern as you clasped his hand between your own. “Cauldron above, you’re freezing!”

You reached for his other hand, gathering both of his scarred hands into your warm grasp. The rough texture of his skin contrasted sharply with the softness of your touch, and your heart ached at the thought of him enduring such cold, worried it’d bring him more pain.

“I’m used to it,” Azriel murmured, his tone dismissive as he shrugged off your concern. “Illyria’s temperatures have always been brutal.”

But you couldn’t shake the worry. Azriel tried to pull his hands away, but you held on tighter, green magic swirling around his fingers, gently massaging the ridged scars. His right wing twitched under your fussing, and you brought his hands to your lips, pressing soft kisses to the backs of each one.

Your lips against his skin felt like a soothing balm, and he could feel warmth spreading from his hands up to his neck, making his breath hitch.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be able to brew a potion that will keep you warm at all times soon.”

“It’s okay, don’t trouble yourself. I can handle a little cold every now and then,” he replied, trying to downplay the discomfort, but you frowned up at him.

“Just because you can doesn’t mean you should.”

You released his hands, the warmth of your magic still wrapped around him. The idea of a warming potion was tempting, but Azriel knew how overwhelmed you were with requests from other fae in need. He could wait—there were others who needed you more. Yet, when he looked into your eyes, filled with such fierce affection and determination, he knew he wouldn’t win this argument.

Azriel’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “That’s very thoughtful of you,” he murmured.

You grinned up at him, your eyes sparkling. “Very demure.”

“What?” He asked, puzzled by your teasing tone.

Before you could respond, a gentle breeze brushed past, drawing your attention back to the patch of snapdragons. Azriel followed your gaze, his hazel eyes curious. The small bud that had been trembling moments before began to unfurl, its petals peeling back like layers of silk. Your breath caught in your throat as the snapdragon revealed itself in all its glory—a vibrant bloom of deep crimson, its edges kissed with gold.

"There you are," you breathed, your voice filled with wonder. "Oh, you are magnificent."

The bloom seemed to bask in your praise, its petals resembling a dragon’s mouth opening wide. A small cloud of smoke puffed from the center, followed by a gentle hiss, and then, with a tiny roar, the snapdragon emitted a small burst of fire. Instinctively, Azriel’s arms tightened around you, but you placed a calming hand on his chest.

“I knew you could do it,” you said to the flower, your heart swelling with pride and joy.

Cassian x Love Witch

Cassian dropped his toast, eyes widening as you walked into the kitchen, humming softly to yourself. The tune was light, almost suspiciously nonchalant, but it was your outfit that truly caught him off guard. He swallowed the food in his mouth, clearing his throat as he tried to process what he was seeing.

“What are you wearing?”

“Good morning to you too,” you replied with a sweet smile, leaning in to kiss his cheek before gliding past him to the steaming cup of coffee waiting for you.

Cassian blinked, still in disbelief. “What are you wearing?” he repeated. Your usual vibrant pinks were replaced by muted tones—dark navy pants, a soft beige top, and matching flats. The only hint of pink was in the pearl earrings dangling from your ears, and even those were a subtle shade, almost blending in.

Cassian could count on one hand the number of times you’d worn anything other than your signature bright pinks. One of them being your wedding day, where you wore a beautiful white dress but even then, your platform heels were a bold hot pink.

“Clothes.” You answered simply, leaning against the kitchen counter to face him.

“I see that…,” Cassian exhaled, blinking as if trying to wake from a strange dream. But this was real, and it was slightly unsettling. “But why?”

You raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in your eyes as you sipped your coffee. “Are you asking me why I’m wearing clothes?”

“Sweetheart, you know exactly what I’m asking.”

You sighed, the lightheartedness fading from your eyes as you wrapped your arms around yourself, a gesture that sent a ripple of unease through him. “I’m going to try and be a little more… demure.”

“What?”

“Try and be a little more demure.” You repeated.

“Demure,” Cassian chuckled. At the sight of your lips curving down into a frown, all amusement drained from Cassian’s face and his heart tightened. “Oh, you were serious?”

When you remained silent, Cassian stood, concern replacing his earlier confusion. He closed the distance between you, his large hand gently lifting your chin, coaxing your gaze to meet his. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you replied honestly, though there was a hint of uncertainty in your voice. “It’s just… I overheard some fae at Rita’s talking about this trend. To not do too much, to be more subtle, to be demure.”

Cassian’s brow furrowed as he studied you, a small, tender smile forming on his lips. “Sweetheart, you are anything but demure.”

Your glare was immediate, but it was more a pout than anything, and Cassian couldn’t help the fondness that swelled in his chest. “I can be anything I want to be,” you retorted.

“Yes,” he agreed, his thumb caressing your cheek in a way that sent a shiver of warmth down your spine. “But I just want you to be you.”

His words hung in the air, a gentle reminder of the love he had for the vibrant, unapologetically you. When you didn’t respond, Cassian leaned in, pressing a kiss to your cheek, his lips lingering as if willing you to let go of whatever doubt had crept into your heart.

Slowly, a smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and with it, the glamour over your clothes faded away. Gone were the muted colors, replaced by the vivid shades of pink that Cassian adored—the colors that were as much a part of you as your laughter and your light.

Because when have you ever given in to trends? You, who shone like a beacon of color in a world that could be so gray, had always embraced who you were without hesitation. The opinions of others rarely fazed you, but sometimes, even you needed a reminder and Cassian was more than glad to do it for you.

“There she is,” he murmured, giving your cheek another kiss before pulling you into his arms. “My bright, shining star.”

You melted into his embrace, a contented sigh escaping your lips as your hands trailed up his back, reveling in the solid strength beneath his shirt. “Your hugs are the best,” you whispered, nuzzling into his warmth.

"They are?"

His arms tightened around you, the familiar scent of him wrapping around you like a comforting blanket.

“Mm, you feel so strong. Makes me feel so…demure.”

Eris x Chaos Witch

The kitchen was nearly empty, the scent of cooked herbs and roasted meats still lingering in the air. The flickering candlelight cast long shadows on the stone walls, making the space feel both vast and suffocating. The cooks had long since retired, and only a few servants remained, their weary faces reflecting the strain of another long day in the Forest House.

The High Lord was away, leaving the Lady of Autumn and her sons that lived here to tend to. The noble lords and advisors who usually filled these halls were absent tonight, choosing to attend dinner only when Beron himself was present or if they were invited by Eris. It should have made the evening easier to endure, but one sharp comment from Reed had nearly shattered the delicate guise you'd worked so hard to maintain.

You felt Eris’s presence before he even crossed the threshold. A strange sensation creeping up your ribcage–like a warning.

Your knuckles turned white as you gripped the marble edge of the counter, the cold stone grounding you. A deep breath—one that burned your lungs—did little to quell the storm raging within. The servants, sensing the tension crackling in the air, quickly scattered, their hurried footsteps echoing off the walls.

His eyes, usually gleaming with mischief, were now sharp and assessing. He was close now, the heat of his body a reminder of the power he wielded—not just over flame, but over this entire court and perhaps, even over you…

Your heart pounded in your chest, threatening to stir the darkness that lived inside you awake. That sinister and wicked side of you. The one that nearly slipped when Reed–

“That wasn’t very demure of you.”

Eris's tone was light and teasing, but beneath it lay a dark edge.

Demure.

The very epitome of the Autumn Court, reserved specifically for the fae females. A female was meant to be modest and reserved. Gentle and feminine. Quiet and docile. Dressed in muted Autumn colored dresses that left little to no skin exposed, allowing one to blend within backgrounds.

Never drawing attention to herself.

It was what you forced yourself to be. A demure, young fae that worked in the kitchens of the great Autumn estate, serving the dignified and vehement Vanserras. More like vain Vanserras…

But tonight, the quiet, demure, and soft-spoken facade nearly cracked, allowing the fierce, raging beast that lurked within to claw its way to the surface.

Eris was angry and he had every right to be. The weight of your secret hung heavily between you, a volatile force that threatened to consume everything if unleashed. However, you’d be damned if you’d let him know you were ever in agreement.

“The depth of my concern could not be further shallowed.” You replied sharply with a glare.

Eris took another step forward, gaze dropping briefly before lifting back up to meet yours. His lips curled up into a sneer. “Drop the knife.”

You clenched your hands and it was only then that you realized in the midst of your turmoil, you had picked up one of the knives on the counter, its sharp edge pointed at Eris.

“Drop the attitude first.”

A muscle feathered in his jaw and the fire in his eyes burned brighter. Strong and powerful magic surged through you but the blood that coursed through your veins was no different than any commoner’s. And you knew it irked him to be spoken in such a way by a common fae.

“I can kill you, you know,” he said casually, one hand reaching out for yours–the one that held the knife. He forced your hand down. “Save myself from all the trouble you bring…”

“Death does not frighten me.” You reminded him just as casually.

Eris’s eyes softened for a moment, a flicker of something you could not discern sparking in his amber gaze. But it was fleeting, replaced quickly by the calculating gaze of a future High Lord, one who was currently navigating a treacherous game. Much to his dismay, he needed you if he wanted a chance at winning. Just as much as you needed him…

He leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. He wanted you to tremble before him, to fear him. “Then, I will deny you death until you beg me on your knees for it.”

Your hand tensed against the knife you still held and Eris, whose hand still remained over yours, grew hot. Flames danced from his fingertips, heating against your skin. It was a fleeting kiss of heat that sent a sharp, tingling sensation coursing through your skin but not hot enough to burn. Not yet.

“Do you think about that image a lot? Of me on my knees?”

Eris’s hand left yours. A wave of relief washed over you and you resisted the urge to cradle your hand to your chest.

He took a step back, amber eyes sweeping over you with a slow, deliberate gaze. “It would suit you.”

“Keep dreaming, Vanserra.”

Eris's chuckle broke the silence, but it was a hollow sound, stripped of any true amusement. His eyes continued to bore into you with a searing intensity. "For both our sakes," he warned, his voice low and edged with a dangerous calm, "see that it doesn’t happen again."

Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing ominously. You stood alone, the lingering tension from his presence intertwining with your own growing anxiety.

With every beat of your heart, the darkness seemed to creep closer, and the storm of chaos you fought to contain felt ever more on the verge of breaking free.

a/n: When thinking about the demure trend, my mind had drifted to how each witch would be. Green witch gives off the most "demure" vibes. Then, I saw a tiktok resurfacing a clip from The Nanny of Fran saying she wants to be demure and it made me think of Love witch.

Chaos witch knows she's not demure, even though she has to pretend to be. I might actually use that scene between them in a one shot. It's hard writing short stuff for Eris & Chaos when I haven't written the prologue/introduction. I hope it's not confusing to follow along. For now, all you have to know is that they have their separate goals but must reluctantly work together if they want to see them come to light.

[witch au masterlist]

general witch tag list: @rcarbo1, @scorpioriesling, @ninthcircleofprythian

love witch tag list: @mrsjna , @shadowsingercassia, @acourtofbatboydreams, @rcarbo1, @mvidaaaa ,

@stuff-i-found-while-crying , @lipstickmarks, @yamisukehoe , @mp-littlebit , @thecraziestcrayon,

@talesofadragon, @ceoofyearning, @anuttellaa, @breadsticks2004, @chicken-fifi

@bxtchopolis

green witch tag list: @fxckmiup, @aria-chikage

General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human, @mrsjna, @adventure-awaits13

If you asked to be in a tag list and don't see your name, please let me know!

#azriel x reader #cassian x reader #eris x reader #acotar x reader #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #azriel x y/n #eris x y/n #eris x you #azriel x you #cassian x y/n #cassian x you #azriel x green witch #cassian x love witch #eris x chaos witch #az!dandelions #dream!cas #chaos!eris

325 notes · View notes

kwanisms · 2 months ago

Text

Kinktober 「10:13」 — w.junhui

» seventeen menu | jun menu | kinktober masterlist «

➮ shapeshifter!Junhui × fem!Reader wc: 3k summary: Jun is a witch and has been practicing his shapeshifting. He’s excited to show Y/N his new trick which has an unintended reaction. genres/themes/au: angst/fluff/smut; supernatural, horror, thriller; non idol au, monster idol au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, supernatural and horror themes, mentions of: witchcraft & magic; sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! taglist has been moved to reblogs join my taglists! kinktober taglist is CLOSED! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

a/n: a special thank you to June and Jupiter for your help with the mechanics of this! I love you both muah muah. This came pretty easily and i’m not opposed to revisiting this couple in the future. We shall see. Thank you for reading! The next part is vampire!Wonwoo which will conclude week two of kinktober! as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: teratophilia (aka monsterfucking), mutual masturbation, voyeurism (f receiving, m receiving), use of pet names (bao bei, babe, etc.), unprotected sex (but reader is on birth control), soft dom!Jun, switch!Reader, non-human genitalia (Jun can shapeshift all parts of him, including his dick lol), cum inside, dirty talk, it’s pretty simple but if I missed something let me know! kinks: Mutual masturbation + voyeurism dialogue prompt: ❛❛ Lay back and touch yourself, I’m going to watch. ❜❜

═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════

When Jun first started learning witchcraft and practicing, he was most excited about shifting. Being able to turn into anyone or anything was the most fascinating and exciting part of magic for him. He’d worked his way up from changing his hair color and facial features until he was able to start shifting into entirely different creatures. The first time he swapped his ears for dog ears he was beyond excited.

Of course, he had rushed at the opportunity to show you, his best friend.

Ever since then, he always came to you to show you his newest tricks, no matter how big or small. In the beginning, you showed as much enthusiasm as he did but over time, most of his tricks were the same and while you were happy he was excited, you didn’t exhibit the same enthusiasm anymore. Something Jun noticed as he stood in front of your bed.

He had just shifted into a blob-like creature, translucent green in color. It was impressive as he’d never managed to get the translucence consistency correct. “Oh neat,” you said as he shifted back, getting up off the floor. “You’ve never gotten the translucence down before. It looks believable!” you added encouragingly.

“And check this one out!” he said, giving you a smirk. You watched with mild amusement as he transformed into a hulking form covered in gray fur, a mass of muscles under his skin. He panted heavily, drool hanging from sharp teeth as yellow eyes stared at you. The pointed ears on top of his head flicked in the direction of different sounds.

“A werewolf?” you asked, holding back a smirk. “You’ve shown me this one before,” you told him, picking up your phone and scrolling through your feed. His brows seemed to furrow in disappointment, the ears laying back against his head. “But look!” he pouted, his voice the exact same.

You raised your eyes as he turned, showing you a large bushy tail that curled up towards his back. “I couldn’t get the tail down before!” he explained. You chuckled, returning to your phone. “Very cute,” you said as you resumed scrolling. Jun let out a low huff and growl before shifting back to his human form.

“Fine, what about this?” he asked, making you look up as he transformed again, his body elongating as scales erupted all over his skin. The lower half of his body transformed into a snake-like body, his torso staying mostly the same except for the scales on his sides and shoulders. His eyes were very viper-like, bright orange with vertical slits. He opened his mouth, a soft hiss escaping as a forked tongue peeked out.

“You’ve shown me that one, too,” you replied. “You usually go for the venomous snakes,” you added. “I’ve never seen you do a constrictor.” Jun’s shoulders slumped as you returned your focus once again to the device in your hand. He changed back, adjusting his shirt and pulled his jacket off, tossing it on the end of the bed.

“Alright,” he said softly. “What about this?”

You looked up, unamused at his antics as he changed again, into a towering figure with a vaguely humanoid shape. He wore a black suit, skin white and massive tentacles writhing from his back. “Slenderman?” you asked, sounding unimpressed yet again.

“Come on, man,” you whined. “I’ve seen all of these before!”

One of the tentacles shot out, wrapping around your ankle but you barely flinched. “Get your slimy tentacle off me before I cut it off and feed it to my cat,” you said without looking up. The tentacle retracted slowly, wiggling off the bed as they all returned to his body and he changed back into his human form. “Seriously?” he asked, running his fingers through his hair frustratedly.

“I’ve seen all these before!” you countered. “You haven’t shown me something new in a long time.”

Jun stared at you, wracking his brain as you scrolled through your phone. An idea popped into his head. He shifted again, a pair of brown cat ears poking up from his hair as a brown tail sprouted from his back, sneaking down the back of his shorts.

“What about this?” he asked, making you look up.

Your eyes met his and a smile spread across your face. “Oh, how cute,” you said as he crawled onto the bed. “A tail too?” you asked as he sat back on his heels, showing off the tail. “Yeah!” he said. “It’s not entirely impressive,” he said. “But normally I do entire body transformations to wow you,” he said. “It’s not every day I do these small ones.”

You chuckled as you leaned forward, reaching up to scratch one of the ears. Jun leaned into your touch, a purr rumbling from his throat. “Cute,” you said again as you reached out to allow the tail to slide through your palm. “What if I change into a werecat!” he said suddenly and moved to get up but you were tired of him constantly changing and just wanted to hang out with your best friend.

You hadn’t meant to pull his tail but your hand closed around it and you tugged lightly. Jun let out a moan and you stared at him, eyes wide as his own wide eyes met yours. Silence fell over you as you stared at one another trying to figure out what just happened.

“What was that?” you asked softly. Jun’s cheeks flushed as he tried to snatch the tail away but you pulled again, another moan slipping past his lips. “Oh,” you said, your mouth forming a perfect circle. A smirk took over as you tugged again, the moan even louder. “S-stop!” he stammered, grabbing the tail from you and glaring as he changed back, the cat ears turning back into his human ones and the tail shrinking until it disappeared.

Your eyes followed the tail as it retracted into his loose shorts and it was then you could see the outline of his semi-hard cock. Your eyes continued up, meeting his gaze. “Enjoyed that a little too much, did you?” you asked. Jun glanced down at his crotch and quickly grabbed one of your plushies, using it to cover his lap. You let out an indignant noise, snatching the plushie from him.

“NOT MR. SNUFFLES!” you shouted, taking the elephant from him and glaring at him. “You pervert!” Jun glared at you. “You’re the one who looked!” he retorted, trying to cover himself with his hands. “Not my fault,” you said as you leaned back against your pillows. “Your shorts don’t exactly keep things contained. Are you even wearing underwear?”

Jun glared at you. “Now who’s the pervert?!” he asked, cheeks turning even redder. You shrugged as you lifted Mr. Snuffles to look at him before tossing him off the bed with the pile of your other plushies. “I’m not wearing any underwear,” you added as if you were discussing the weather.

Jun felt his cock twitch in his shorts. He was wearing underwear but now he couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that you were not. “Wh-why did you tell me that?” he asked, turning his head to look at the pile of stuffed animals that lay on the floor in the corner of your room, their lifeless black glass eyes staring back at him.

“Can you change your dick?” you asked suddenly, making him choke on his own spit. He turned to look at you, finding your curious eyes staring back at him. “Wh-what?!” he asked incredulously. You rolled your eyes before asking again.

“When you transform into, like, a werewolf or even that cat hybrid, does your dick change too?” Jun stared back at you in awe of not only your confidence but your audacity. “N-no,” he answered, shaking his head. You clicked your tongue in disappointment, picking up your phone.

“I mean,” he started, gulping. “I’ve never purposefully done it.” You glanced up at him. “I-I could try.” A smile spread across your face. “Would you show me if you did?” you asked. Jun couldn’t believe his ears. You, his best friend, was asking him to show him shapeshifting his cock.

He glanced down at his crotch briefly before looking back up, eyes scanning over your shorts.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” he said suddenly, catching you off guard. “I can’t shapeshift,” you said in return. Jun merely shrugged. “Doesn’t mean I don’t wanna see. If I’m gonna show you my dick, you gotta give me something in return.”

You stared at him, considering your options. When you took too long to answer, he was afraid he’d crossed a line but then you locked your phone, setting it aside as you got up onto your knees. “Okay,” you answered, pushing down your shorts and sitting back to kick them off, keeping your legs closed and your pussy hidden from view.

“Show me,” Jun ordered and you let out a giggle, shaking your head. “You first.” Jun narrowed his eyes before he got up, pushing his shorts and underwear down in one motion, his cock springing free as he let the material fall to the floor. He stepped out of it as your eyes followed his cock.

It wasn’t what you were expecting. It was a good five or six inches in length, maybe about five in girth. The shaft was a lighter tone of his skin, like his skin was in the winter when he didn’t go outside, the head was a darker peach, a small bead of precum already forming at the slit.

He sat back down. “Alright,” he said, drawing your attention from his cock. “Your turn.”

A smile crossed your face as you parted your knees, giving him a direct view of your cunt. Jun let out a strained noise that sounded like a cross between a groan and a gasp. His eyes continued to look, drinking in every detail. “Spread,” he said simply. You hesitated, tilting your head to the side before you obliged, spreading your feet on your bed, knees bent as you slid a hand down and spread your folds, giving him a view of your very wet pussy.

His lips parted slightly as he stared, taking in even more detail. His thoughts were interrupted as you let out a giggle, teeth digging into your bottom lip as you watched him. “Like what you see?” you asked in a low breathy voice. Jun swallowed the lump in his throat but said nothing. He wanted so desperately to touch you, curl his fingers into the plush of your thighs as he tasted you, as he sank his cock into you and fucked you against your pillows.

“So can you make your dick change?” you asked, drawing him from his thoughts. He looked up to meet your gaze. “What would you like to see?” You pondered his question for a moment before giving him a devilish smile. “What would it look like if you transformed into a werewolf?”

Jun licked his lips before focusing his attention transforming only his cock. You watched as the color and shape changed before your eyes. The head became more pointed as the entire thing turned reddish, two knots forming a bulbous base. “A knot, huh?” you asked, giving him a smirk, one of your brows raising.

“I mean,” he started, glancing down at it. “Wolves are canines,” he continued. “And dogs have very distinct genitals.” He glanced back up, noticing that your fingers were playing with your clit slowly. “Are.. are you touching yourself?” he asked, eyes widening. “Why?” you asked. “Do you want me to stop?” you asked, fingers stilling.

“N-no,” he said softly. “Keep going.”

You resumed moving, your fingers dipping down to your slit only to drag back up, spreading your folds so he could see your wet hole. “What else can you change it into?” you asked, nodding towards his cock. He glanced down and back up. “What else do you want to see?”

“Hmm,” you hummed as your legs spread more, giving him a better view of you playing with your pussy. “Surprise me.” Jun glanced down, watching as the pointed head changed, flaring out as the shaft grew, a thick ring forming in the middle. Your eyes widened. “Horse?” you asked. Jun looked up at you, letting out a low groan as your fingers sank into your heat. “That’s not fair,” he whined.

You let out a giggle, nodding towards his cock. “No one said you couldn’t touch yourself,” you reminded him. He glanced down at the transformed cock. “I’d rather have something else wrapped around it,” he murmured. You let out a giggle. “Touch yourself first and I’ll let you fuck me,” you retorted. Jun met your gaze. “Are you serious?” he asked, excitement bubbling in his chest. “Yes,” you answered. “But you have to touch yourself first. Until I say so.”

“Fine,” he answered, quickly grabbing the back of his shirt and removing it. “But you have to take the rest of your clothes off.” You did as he said, withdrawing your fingers long enough to pull your top off and toss it aside, revealing your bare chest to him.

Jun leaned back, resting his hand on the bed behind him as he wrapped his fingers around the base of his shaft. “Now,” he said as you stared back at him. “Lay back and touch yourself. I’m going to watch.” You leaned back against the pillows, spreading your legs so he had an unobstructed view of your cunt, fingers spreading your folds for him.

“Fuck,” he groaned, hand working up and down the thick shaft of his transformed cock. “What I wouldn’t give for a taste,” he said as he watched you play with yourself. “Sink your fingers in that pretty cunt again. I want you to touch yourself with both hands. Play with your tits, yeah?” he ordered, hand moving up and down slowly.

Your free hand found purchase on your breast, squeezing and kneading as you sank your fingers into your heat, letting out a satisfied groan as you started to slowly pump them in and out of you. You kept your eyes on Jun’s face but every so often, you’d glance down at the horse cock. You wanted him to fill you with it, wondering if it changed the amount of cum he produced.

As you stared at it, Jun let out a chuckle. Before your eyes, his cock changed again. This time it changed to a bright blue, the head of his cock elongating to a point while ridges appeared along the shaft, a thick vein appearing on the underside. You wanted so badly to have him shove all of it inside you. “What’s that?” you asked breathlessly. He shrugged. “No idea,” he answered.

“I made it up.”

You let out a moan, walls clenching around your fingers as you threw your head back against the pillows.

“You want it inside you?” he asked, a surge of confidence as his hand moved faster along his cock. “Yes,” you gasped. “God yes, Jun!” Your hand moved faster as you pinched your pert nipple, rolling the bud between your fingers, digging the heel of your hand into your clit as your hips started to buck.

“Yeah, babe?” Jun asked breathlessly, his own hips starting to buck as his cock changed again into a more human-like one. “Want me to fill that tight little hole? Fuck you like you deserve?” You let out another moan, back arching. “Yes! Please! I want you inside me so bad, Junnie,” you whimpered. Jun let out a groan as he felt his cock twitch in his hand. He was losing control of his transformations as his climax neared. “Would you let me cum inside you?” he asked suddenly.

You nodded eagerly. “Yes,” you gasped. “I’m on birth control!” Jun let out a groan. “Fuck, M’gonna cum,” he groaned as your own orgasm came even closer. “I’m close, Junnie,” you whined. “I need m-more. N-need your cock!”

Jun stifled a moan, hips bucking up as he fucked his hand. He wanted to be inside you so bad but he couldn’t bring himself to move. “C-can you move?” he asked in a breathy voice. “Wh-what?” you asked. “Come here,” he said quickly. “Come sit on it or I’ll make a mess all over your nice clean bed.”

You scrambled up, quickly crawling over to him and straddling his hips as he held his cock still. You slowly sank down on him, both of you moaning in unison as his cock stretched your walls. “F-fuck,” he said with a tremble in his voice. You started moving quickly, bouncing on his cock as his hands grabbed your waist. “Change,” you said simply.

“What?” he asked, looking up at you as rode him, breast bouncing in his face. “Turn into that cat boy, quick,” you moaned, hands finding purchase on his shoulders. Jun obliged, the ears and tail returning. “Come on, bao bei,” he groaned, urging you on, his thumb moving to your clit. “Cum for me.”

You let out a cry of pleasure as your orgasm washed over you, your body shaking as you sank on Jun’s cock, taking all of it in you. As your walls spasmed around him, he bucked up, releasing inside you with a moan as his head fell forward onto your chest, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pumped you full of his cum.

You let out one final moan as you wrapped your arms around his neck, combing your fingers through his hair, the cat ears twitching and flicking as his cum spilled out of your hole around his cock and dripped down onto the inside of his thighs and the sheets under him.

You tried to regain your breath as you stroked his hair, gently rubbing the base of his cat ears. A gentle purr sounded from his throat, making you giggle. He nuzzled further into your bare chest, you felt his purring vibrate against you soothingly.

“M’tired,” he murmured and you scoffed. “You barely did anything!” you admonished as he giggled against your skin. “Well,” he continued, pulling back to look up at you, blinking softly. “Give me like five minutes and I’ll show you what I can do.” You took his face in your hands and leaned down to press your lips against his.

“Use that horse cock from earlier and you got yourself a deal, catboy.”

©️ kwanisms 2024 | all works on this blog are protected under copyright. Do not repost, continue, or translate my works. All graphics made by me.

#svthub #ksmutsociety #kvanity #mfu-net #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen fanfic #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #junhui scenarios #junhui imagines #junhui fanfiction #junhui fanfic #junhui smut #junhui x reader #kwanisms kinktober 2024 #kinktober 2024

154 notes · View notes

ceridescent · 1 year ago

Text

carribean summer heat — m., wanda

wanda maximoff x female!reader

summary: it's a lovely sight to see wanda maximoff sweating and blushing due to the tropical heat. sometimes it's tricky, because one moment she looks like a baby, and the next, well...you could ask the particular group of people who...but you suppose not. it's impossible they could have seen the hot flush on her cheeks as she handled you then and there, out in the open.

warning/s: top!wanda, bottom!f!reader, dom/sub dynamics, thigh riding, dirty talk, semi-public, mommy kink, use of strap-on, creampie, & teasing.

word count: 4, 300

author’s note: hiiiiii hiiii hiiii i'm so happy i finally have some content to post on my rotting account. ٩(◕‿◕｡)۶ (i did have multiple drafts but i forgot tumblr existed 'cause i had off notifs the whole time since may.) it was a giddy, high school girl crush feeling of me to write this filthy fic. (/▽＼*)｡o○♡ i hope everyone's having a wonderful Hot Girl summer!! or a Hot Slutty summer, whichever you prefer. o(>ω<;)o

18+ only. men and minors do NOT interact.

masterlist | navigation

the sun rays barely strike your tanning skin, serving only as an illumination toward the breathtaking view of the caribbean sea as you situate on the patio.

three ivory-colored recliner beach chairs are included in the rental villa, wherein you occupy one whilst the woman who flew a helicopter in saint-barthélemy island, makes piña coladas in the kitchen. a few hours ago you woke up earlier than her, and it was a relieving feeling, of hearing the rise and fall of her breath. a pink blush coated her entire face, unused to the tropical weather. hair stuck on the oval of her face, grinning at how baby-ish she looked. you didn’t bother rousing her though, as you were both selfish for being the sole witness of the rising sun behind the full glass window of the villa, and considerate to allow her more time to rest.

not long after though, she woke up moaning your name, rubbing a whole limb on the empty space you left behind.

“you left me,” wanda whined, her eyes glazed and her red lips pouty.

“they gave us fresh coconuts,” you purred, showing her the fruit. helping her sit up on the white mattress, you plant a chaste kiss on her cheekbone. this feels like a true vacation, you thought to yourself, appreciating the beach elements surrounding the entire villa, and the hard-to-miss view of the sea outside. although, the other thing that left you breathless was wanda’s bare breasts, the only clothing clinging onto her body was the thong she changed into right after she showered last night.

you rested the open edge of the coconut in between her lips, “here,” tipping it upward so she could drink the coconut juice. wanda’s eyes fluttered close, a long and pronounced moan gracing your ears. she covered your hands with her own to hold the fruit, gulping the liquid into her parched mouth. she sighed as she finished, looking at you with a twinkle in her eyes.

she suggested, “we can eat the insides for breakfast, honey,” bending low toward the bedside to fetch her matching bra. you blushed at the recollection of last night. “i’m sure they have some honey in the kitchen somewhere…” you added, watching the tips of her peaks disappear into view.

wanda teased, “you like what you see?”, lightly slapping your face in the process in a playful manner. you tried to forget how her plump breasts felt in your hands as you suckled her dry, returning into the present moment of the beautiful day.

“i would like to eat,” you diverted the topic back into the fruit in your hands, which wasn’t successful as wanda raised an amused brow, pursing her lips together to fight back a smile. you pointed to the coconut to counter her silent reproach, giving her a light blush. “get your head outta gutter, ma’am,” you said and retreated to the kitchen before she could come up with a witty remark, which you’d most likely shut her up with a kiss.

wanda hums the tune from maroon 5’s sunday morning as she exits the indoor, clutching a wooden tray filled with food and replenishments. a board of charcuterie sits in the middle of the two piña coladas. you gasp at the precise detailing, “i’m not done,” blinking your eyes in anticipation, revealing a coconut with a straw strapped to the side. wanda caresses your hair, gives you a kiss on the forehead as you look up at her adoringly. “help yourself, angel,” she said before pecking your cheek. you mewl and melt at her service, appreciating the beautiful woman even more.

the drinks are astounding, satisfying your thirst for something cool in this caribbean summer heat, as well as your insufferable stomach—literal paradise—blinding your attention away from the oval-rimmed eyeglasses, but most especially, her gorgeousness in a bikini. “is that-“

wanda maximoff grins like a cheshire cat, “yes, angel, it’s the one you picked for me!” sometimes wanda does it, she sends you a fitting room pic of her in bikinis—and if you were blessed enough—lingeries—needing a different perspective of what looks flattering on her.

this particular bikini that clings onto her glistening skin is a green tie-front bandeau matched with a thin-string bikini bottom that leaves little to no imagination; highlighting the fullness of her hips down her voluminous thigh. her exposed tight stomach that has a small bruise on the side of her belly button, the heavy cups of her chest. you love how wanda never fails to wear something as if she was born with it and that it never leaves her skin.

you don’t realize until later that your mouth hangs open watching wanda cozy herself onto the beach chair next to you, laying it all out for the sea to see.

“oh,” you choke on your own spit, sight glued onto her cleavage. and if temptation could get any worse, sweat trickles down on the valley of it, getting envious (and more) of how close it is to where you want to be. stammering “you look-l-look-so look so marvelous, w-wan,” you gulp down your insistent saliva and grab the cool piña colada, biting hard on the straw as you sip in the flavor to replace the volcano on your tongue, before saying another that would jeopardize this peaceful, sunny day. (although it isn’t bad if it heads toward that direction.)

“you’re sucking so hard on it, princess,” wanda chuckles, “is it that tasty?” facing you now, leaning her weight against her right arm. her cleavage sag toward gravity, you fear it might actually fall off. short-circuiting for a moment, registering her question, her intention, and her innuendo. trying to calculate and rethink your response as you now, gently, sip the straw, sensing the coolness of your throat and skin, staring at the vast sea.

you turn your gaze on her nose, so wanda would think that you are brave enough to have a staredown with her striking olive green eyes. then you take another hard sip, hollowing your cheeks in the process, at the same time moaning loudly, rolling your eyes back. “oh yes,” you sigh, “it tastes so good, wan! would you like some?”

she grins like a proud mother, “yeah,” reaching for the other glass but you swat her hand away. “nuh-uh,” you spurn, shaking your index finger whilst you stand up from the chair. you take three slow, deliberate steps sipping on the cocktail, not breaking eye contact with her. wanda watches every move in a relaxed position, however, her eyes carry primacy and eagerness—she’s like a hawk with it.

you bat your eyes at her as you lower yourself down, dipping one knee on the beach chair in the open space of her glistening legs, at the same time resting the piña colada on the wooden tray. wanda scoots facing you, realizing what is up your sleeve. a shiver runs down your spine when she holds your love handles, positioning you in place. you swear to not have done anything but sit, like a moan, when she plops you down against her lap, her grip on your knees reluctant as if she’s trying not to clench on you too hard.

wanda’s specs tumble out of place for a second ‘cause you clip the loose strands of blonde hair behind her ear, taking your time. she whines, “i’m getting so thirsty!” jerking your body up and down, making your legs quiver, the friction of your cores heating your bundle of nerves.

sticking an index finger against her complaining lips only to pinch her jawbone to force an opening, without saying a word, you connect your mouth with hers, slowly pushing out the piña colada into her “parched” throat.

wanda flutters her eyes close and hums at the sensation, gulping it down, caressing your back in the process. sluggish and soft, fingertips against your shoulder blades. upward your hair, combing through them. and finally, your neck, massaging your nape in circular motions.

when you pull away you return a soft smile, giddy and grateful, reaching for the glass to give her some more. wanda’s wandering hands begin to become playful, toying with your bikini strap, stretching the fabric just to let it strike your skin. you hiss, slapping her hands away, yet she reprimands you with a smack on the ass. you sigh in relief for not having anything in your mouth.

more perspiration covers her milk skin, moaning at the liquid tantalizing her throat, and you who cannot help but bounce against her, the heat crawling through your body caused by not only the tropical heat of the island.

“princess, wanda whines, pushing your hips hard to stop you from bouncing like a bitch in heat, “what is it?” acting as if she doesn’t know what you’re asking for. “do you want to ride my thigh?”

or maybe she does.

nodding eagerly, you slide your hands over wanda’s arms to intertwine fingers, descending to land on her thigh. “don’t let me go,”

wanda shakes her head, relaxed, rubbing her thumb over, “how am i going to play with your nipples then, honey?”

that particular sentence made you grind hard on her, your pussy throbbing in anticipation. it’s all up to you though, so you begin to feel her voluptuous thigh at home between your legs, at home to be used by your needy pussy. “let me play with them, yeah?”

you allow wanda to let go of your hands, although it doesn’t stay dangling and out of place. she puts them around her waist, “there. so you have something to hold on to,” gathering your hair around her grip. “get on it, little girl. give me a great view.”

you do as told.

somehow, you always need wanda’s approval and permission before doing something that includes her, because it’s different with her. you utterly have faith that she would keep you safe, because most exciting things are dangerous. you become your truest, unapologetic self with her, dependent and clueless. wanda adores it, serving you, treating you like a princess.

hoarsely, “there we go, nice and slow for now, huh?” wanda stares at your whole frame, your legs automatically spreading wider, draping over the chair. she bites her lip, dragging her fingers over your thighs, as you increase your pace. you squeal, pressing your clad pussy against her thigh, “that’s what i’m talking about, baby. make yourself feel good for me,” whilst wanda encourages you with hunger.

you whimper, watching her watch you. blood rushes into your cheeks, bowing down to relieve the tension of being under wanda’s gaze, still unused to the pierce of her green eyes. you only look back when she begins fiddling with your top straps, teasing you with her next move.

you believe you know what’s about to happen and yet she lets them go, cupping your tits with her hands, kneading them into her calloused palms. you topple over at the pleasure, and she holds you up with your breasts, almost crushing them. the action causes you to let out a high-pitched whimper, casually rubbing yourself to take off the insufferable itch in your clit.

“oh god,” you sob when wanda pries the cups open without taking the top off, only setting them aside, as if she’s washing off sand from a seashell with her slender hands. “oh, oh!” feverishly you buck your hips, and “wanda!” a scream follows as she steps on her heel, her thigh going on a slope.

“that’s my pretty girl,” wanda husks, “keep moaning for me,” encouraging you. a simultaneous long moan erupts from both of you as she pinches your peaks, rolling them in between her fingers. a hungry grunt vibrates through her before diving into your tit, sucking it full with her mouth. your hand goes straight through her blonde hair, gripping it through the scalp, and then her shoulder where you find better leverage.

“that’s it-“ wanda huffs, “g-good, good, my good girl,” lost in the pleasure of sucking your chest. “yeah baby come for me-“

wanda guides your hips, setting a quick, solid rhythm. she pulses her heel up and down, and then it hits you,

“come for me, pretty girl. come for mommy-“

screaming and thrashing on top of her.

you crash against her chest, quivering all over, moan after moan tumbling out of your mouth, your hips still moving but at their own accord, with wanda’s hands resting on your buttcheeks. wanda hums when you quiet down, the vibration reaching your nipples, grazing you with a scream, cum dripping out of you. “dirty,” you mewl, referring to your soaked and sticky bikini bottom

wanda groans, “all mine,” palming your pussy through it, shoving her lips onto yours. you happily obliged, probing your tongue in her mouth, which she gladly accepted. massaging them together, suckling, and then nipping her lower lip, brushing your noses together.

“mhm!” you squeal as you pull away, giving wanda a radiant smile. she pinches your cheeks and pecks your nose. “okay then!” she claps her hands together, an eager woman with a plan. she kisses the side of your neck just below your ear. she pulls you away from her, settling you down in between her legs.

she gets up, get cozy, princess, mommy’s just gonna take something inside, okay?”

“mommy,” you whine, “can i come with?”

“no no, princess. it’s a surprise for you, okay? i’ll be back before you know it!” and then she’s gone.

you probably should have added “please” then she would’ve surely brought you in with her. but you do entertain yourself with the little time alone: rearranging glasses back in place, disregarding your wet bottom because wanda would take it off as usual, and finish the cocktail. you also spooned a bit of the coconut’s inside.

a loud chatter pulls you away from your little bubble, a group of people jet skiing echoing through the space. multiple arms wave in your direction, a booming “HELLO” as you wave back, blush coating your cheeks. you push your legs tight together. realizing the openness of the patio, you make a double take behind the place wanda has disappeared off, knowing that there’s more to come out of after your stunt, and most especially that you have brought her dominant side out here.

you drink wanda’s piña colada to pacify your nerves.

wanda isn’t scary, per se, she just gets super duper mega hot and towering—sometimes to the point of la petite mort—but this time the possibility of somebody else kayaking their way into your location makes you palpitate.

kayaking, the deliberate effort of rowing through this calm ocean—the agonizing trail of the canoes—it is something worse than a damn jet ski. this is driving you crazy!

“i’m sorry for the long wait, my darling. mommy couldn’t find it for a while ‘cause she’s thinking about you…”

you take a huge gulp, refusing to look at what's behind you. a hand ghosts on top of the beach chair. “it’s okay, wanda, i like the view here…”

“i know, princess. but it’ll look nicer if you see what mommy packed for you!”

this is her cue to come forward, blocking the peaceful view of the sea, showing her thick strap. you roll your eyes back, trembling all over, making her chuckle at the expected reaction, taking your hand to stroke her cock.

“i love the sound of your whimpers, baby. shows how much effect i have on you,” wanda husks, her desire of giving it to you palpable, because she dirty talks her way into your pussy as she does so. you gasp, “it’s big,” gripping the tip, feeling the faux veins coating the shaft. “you can take it, princess. i know it.”

“i don’t think so…” you dissent, shaking your head, at the same time anticipating it. but surely you can’t take it in you, it’ll hurt so bad. wanda shakes her head and palms your drenched clothed pussy before setting it aside.

she puts a finger in without warning, making you arch your back, a cry “mommy!” leaving your shocked mouth.

“now you’re calling me mommy,” she gives you a disapproving look, but urges you on smiling at the motion of you sucking her middle finger in fully without resistance. “i knew you’d be so wet, so i didn’t bring any lube.”

wanda takes her finger out and puts it in her mouth, moaning at the sweet taste of your cum. “mmm, i might just have to eat you out instead. would you want that, my princess?”

you nod your head rather aggressively, your face contorted in desperation. anything not to take her monster dick. however, wanda must’ve noticed your not-so-subtle calculation because she changes her mind, shaking her head, trying to hide her cheshire smirk.

“no,” she hum, “i think my tongue can wait for this sweet pussy. ‘cause then what’s gonna keep my baby girl’s boobs occupied?”

a squeal leaves your mouth as wanda drags your legs to the edge until it’s draping off the chair. you stick your legs together in the wind, your cum glistening on your pussy. wanda traces the slick that coats your inner thigh, just to get a rise out of you. she bites her lip in anticipation as she lubes her cock with your pussy juice, rubbing the tip over your clit.

“fuck,” she moans, “listen to it,” slapping it the toy against your pussy. “mommy,” you could only respond, already over the whole teasing fit. “please!”

“please what, princess?”

“plea-pl-“

she chuckles. wanda groans as she lines her cock in your opening, “use your words, darling. makes it easier for us,” waiting for you to vocalize.

you fling your hand forward to intertwine them with hers. “please fuck me, mommy. pleaseplease fill meplease!”

wanda whimpers.

“that’s my good girl.”

she enters you slowly, encouraging you to take deep breaths as she spreads your hole, tearing you open to get used to the size. your brows knit together at the sharp pain, mewling at the sensation. wanda peppers kisses all over your neck and jaw, distracting you from the initial process, “hey, hey, baby. it’s okay, mommy’s here–mommy will take care of you.”

your “thank you” gets swallowed by her lips, capturing yours in a languid tango, firm and warm in the tropical heat. your eyes flutter close alike battling sleep as, fighting the urge to just stay open because if you stare long enough at wanda’s eyelashes, you would be able to count them, but you settle with feeling it caressing your cheekbone. she breathes you in with each inhale, her hands coming to your cheeks to get a hold of you even more. you let out a keen for the numerous times she bites your lip, sliding her tongue in when you moan at the first thrust.

you break the kiss, “mommy,” giving her a pleading look. “please.”

she presents you a peck and nods her head, “oh yes,” beginning a pace. “is that okay, princess? does it hurt?”

“little only now, mommy. i like it,” you reply, taking her tongue in yours again.

“yeah?” she pulls away from the kiss, “you like mommy grinding down on you?” pushing in her length harder, her pace controlled. you hear the beach chair thud against the movement. your tits bounce at the same time, whimpering, tugging her hand, “faster please-“

“no, no. mommy’s gonna take her time, my love. i need to feel every inch of you before we get back. fuck! i’ve never fucked you in a bikini! it’s been in my bucket list for months now and i could finally-!”

wanda finds her pace, a grunt leaving her, pumping deeper into you, “-do this!” a cry leaving your swelling lips as your back arches in the process, her cock stuffing you full. “thank you, feels so good,” you slur, eyes rolling back, seeing the blue of cloudy skies. you think you begin to drool.

wanda makes an incoherent statement, her lower lip bitten to hold back her moans. a bucket of sweat forms on her forehead, little bubbles that slide down through her forehead and blushing face. her hair tangles in knots like a wet mop, clinging against her back.

her hands slither through your body, tracing patterns on your stomach, playing with your belly button. “you’re welcome,” she sighs, “anything for my favorite lady,” whispering over your ear, her hot puffs making your spine quiver. she nibbles your earlobe.

and your neck, sinking her teeth into flesh, planting a bruise, gripping your waist tight to pull you forward to meet her pounding. “ah fuck, wanda!” you yelp, as she stretches your pussy hole open and full. bucking her hips with no abandon, chasing that high that belongs in between your legs, her primal urge to please you—to hear you scream her name in your favorite vacation spot—to make you come apart only for her to build you back up.

“oh baby, uh,” wanda keens, clipping her hair out of the way of seeing you fucked out, “play with your tits, y/n. come on, please! show me your pretty bits,”

a high-pitched moan sounds out of you from wanda’s desperation, mimicking her movement a sex ago, setting your cups to the side. your fingers shake as you pinch and roll your nipples, your moans getting higher and prolonged the more you tug at them. your whole body spasms, thrashing under wanda who makes it her life’s mission to make you come around her cock.

you hear her chuckle close to your ear, licking a column of your neck, peppering kisses down onto your chest, replacing your fingers with her lips and tongue.

“so hard, so ha-“

“harder!” you sob, jackhammering your hips to meet hers, every snap ending with the sound of your juices thwacking around wanda’s big dick.

“hey, hey, princess look,” wanda slaps your face lightly to catch your attention, at the brink of tapping out, your brain unable to cope up with the situation anymore. you push your hoods open—screaming at the shock—the sight of wanda’s bare breasts bouncing up and down, looking so supple and fresh.

“mommy,” you whine, “i wanna suck you,”

how you managed to let that out you don’t know.

wanda whimpers, “oh baby,” purring as she downs her pace, “here princess,” taking one tit and holding in front of your mouth, “suck mommy good yeah?”

you only nod your head, speaking less to more. your mouth envelops in the hard peaks of the older woman, flicking it with your tongue before you actually suck it. wanda lets out a shaky breath, “y-yeah princess. be a good girl for mommy-“ driving her cock in your wet cunt in one swift thrust, frantic to hear you once more.

“y/n!” wanda writhes, the only leverage she has over you is her hands clenching your sides, “fuck fuckfuck me- mommy’s so close princess-!” screaming along with you.

“mommy, mommy,” you slur, attempting to wrap your legs around her waist but it’s too imposible with the energy you have. although wanda takes notice, helping you, wrapping one leg around her, whilst the other takes your hand the way you intended to in the first place. “yes, princess. mommy’s clo–come with me, please? come with me m’kay?”

repetitive words tumble out of wanda’s lips with the way her mind untangles as well, lost in the pleasure of having you fucked brainless. her tit falls off your mouth when you fling your head back, nearing into your climax. one more thrust—

a familiar loud chatter enters your hearing, pointing toward your direction, wanda noticing the same thing as she pauses for a beat, and before shame could creep into your head, she jolts her hips recklessly, fucking you with a few visitors.

“fuck yeah? we got an audience, baby. better give them our best sho-“

wanda chokes out a sob the same time as you, convulsing and trembling together at the climax. multiple expletives grunts out of her filthy mouth, complementing your sputtering.

wanda screams the same time as you do, crashing together. multiple expletives come out of her filthy mouth, complementing your whiny sounds.

“m-mommy!” you whine, drool dripping out of your mouth, “please–“ wanda grinning down at you, the loud chatter that once was powerful now weak and non-existent. “yes princess?” she purrs, washing the orgasm out of you. “i think you made them shut up, baby,” she chuckles breathlessly, her face red and wet. “but…we’re not done yet.”

you whine, exhaustion already painted all over you. “nope,” wanda pops the p and fixes your disheveled hair. you look so fucked out, not even a workout excuse is going to hide that.

“i just…” wanda takes her time to come up with something, a sugarcoated truth, maybe? or a white lie?

“…i wanna put all my cum inside you,” she lets out quietly, batting her eyes at you.

you cry with your legs spread open and shaking, ropes of cum filling your pussy hole. wanda giggles and moves her cock in a sensual pace, making sure nothing goes to waste.

“i’m so full mommy!”

“so full of my cum! how does it feel being filled with cum, huh, princess?”

you can barely open your eyes at this point, but wanda insists, slapping your face lightly to catch your short attention span. “you like it?”

“yes, mommy. makes me wanna suck you,” you whimper as wanda moans. “i’ll fuck my cum in you some more and then i’ll get to fuck your face?”

“yes, you offer breathlessly, drifting off. she takes your chin so you could face her, “no, no,” giving you a demanding look, “yes what?”

she puts her thumb in your mouth and you automatically suck. “yes, mommy.”

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff smut #wanda x reader #marvel smut #wlw smut

2K notes · View notes

sushirrrry · 10 months ago

Note

would love to see a blurb about best friend harry thinking yn’s boyfriend doesn’t deserve her and accidentally confesses his feelings for her

bound a harry styles one-shot blurb; 7.2k words cw: fluff fluff and more fluff

When Harry had booked this trip, there were three things that he was looking forward to.

One of them was the open bar that their friends—the new Mr. and Mrs. Moxley—would be providing to them, which would include a couple gin and tonics too many.

The second was the beachfront room that he had scored from the credit card points he had expertly racked up the past few months, especially for this trip to Barcelona for his friend’s wedding. He thought he had scored a pretty good deal.

The third was seeing Cassidy for a weekend straight.

While the two of them lived in the same city, they were walking different paths at the moment, which had never been them. There were nights that they met for dinner, almost like nothing had changed. But Harry lived in South London; he had been working long nights in the museum, Cassidy was on the opposite side of the city working at her accounting position she had taken recently.

Both hadn’t had each other’s undivided attention in quite some time, and Harry was looking forward to the possibility of having that again. The kind of attention, the kind of laughs and indescribable joy that they had both needed—he was sure of it.

If there was one thing that he knew about Cass, it was that she was sprinting on the plane to get the vacation she had been looking forward to.

Plus, neither of them had a plus-one this time around.

That meant that it was just the two of them, and Harry couldn’t help but smirk every time he thought of it. Undivided attention.

Harry had thrown on a linen suit for the welcome party; the night before the wedding. He had started to unpack his room, trying to pass the time before he knew that Cass would arrive. Once he heard a buzzing on his phone, his head lifted from looking down into his suitcase and towards the device on the duvet.

If there was one thing Harry was going to do on his vacation, it was unpack the entirety of his suitcase before doing anything else.

iddy: smyf

The small acronym ‘show me your fit’ made him smile before he noticed a few more texts rolling in, the dots precursing them on the phone.

iddy: for tonight, not right now. I should have clarified. Please don’t send a pic of your penis

iddy: someone has to make sure I’m not overdressed. How do you dress for a pre-wedding dinner

The panic over the texts was exactly how Harry knew Cassidy; she worried over small things but overlooked the bigger picture. It was a small, miniscule flaw, really.

But before he’s able to even move towards the large mirror in his bathroom, his phone vibrates again. His attention is grabbed by the way that his eyes move over the image that comes in, rather than the words he had been reading from her.

And something about it made him stop in his tracks on his own way to show her what he had looked like.

Something about the way that she held the phone up to the mirror, giving a small pout—a playful one, as if unsure of herself. The way that the wisps of her hair were around her face, but the rest was pulled back by a clip—he was certain of it. She didn’t like having her hair down if she could help it.

Harry swallowed in the comfort of the room, almost like he was trying to keep himself from getting caught in the moment, even when no one was around. His eyes flew over the soft baby blue of the dress, the way that it dipped down, just a bit.

The way that the color danced over her tanned skin; maybe even a bit red from the sun he was certain that she had taken apart in as soon as they hopped off the plane. Harry knew that she bathed in the sun whenever it came out in London; she wouldn’t have gotten burned there, though.

There were dainty cream flower details—maybe stitching, even—on the dress as he zoomed in to get a better look at it.

His thumb cruised over the message, writing out a message before he pressed send.

Harry: good thing you told me not to send you a pic of my penis! Was about to!

Harry: also, you look beautiful, c

He frowned when she sent another message.

iddy: ok but am I overdressed

Harry: no, see

Harry held his phone up to the mirror as she had done to him—as they had done for one another many times before. But something about the way he looked in it bothered him for a moment. He fixed his hair, running his hand through it, almost to make sure that it looked much better than usual. He adjusted the cuffs of his suit before he sent the picture through to her.

The cream suit was opened, a white shirt settled underneath it. He wore a pair of his favorite white sneakers that fit like a glove, even a bit scuffed—but he felt that that balanced the outfit.

When he sent the photo, he waited a moment for Cass to send something back. But it felt like the longer he stared, the more pressure he felt to not see the grey dots coming back on the screen.

He bit the inside of his lip, waiting patiently before he locked the phone and slid it down into his pocket.

Instead of worrying about that, Harry checked his watch to see that it was closing in on six-thirty– which meant that he was fashionably late to the six o’clock time for the dinner.

He spritzed a bit more cologne, checked his teeth in the mirror, and pushed the bunches of curls off of his forehead that he meant to get cleaned up before coming on this trip but simply losing track of time.

He grabbed his wallet– hoping to not lose it or need it– and walked out of the hotel room door, down towards the lobby where he figured everyone would be gathering. He figured he'd take the long way, walking through some groups of people until he saw a grand staircase to lead down into the lobby area.

Harry figured that he would walk that way, down towards the main area where some familiar faces had collected for cocktail hour and drinks. His eyes maneuvered around, trying to see if he could catch a glimpse of Cass in any capacity.

Walking down the stairs, he saw Mari and Logan– the bride and groom– and greeted both of them accordingly. Mari and Harry had worked together back at uni, so they had become close friends. There may have been a night or two when Harry and Mari actually went home together, but they chalked that up to some consensual stress release.

When she started dating Logan, they started to hang around everyone more– which then included Cassidy. They would all go out together to the pubs after classes and had become really great friends since then. It was no surprise that this kind of event would bring them all together again.

“Have you guys seen Cass yet?” Harry asked, looking around. “I haven't seen here since she got here. She texted me but didn't get a response.”

Mari looked at him a bit suspiciously before turning to Logan for a moment. “Didn't you guys RSVP together?”

Harry looked up at her for a moment, shaking his head.

“No– I mean, no, I didn't respond with her name or anything. Did she do that for me?” He had thought that he marked one salmon meal and that was it.

Mari bit her lip as she blinked at him a few times. “No, but she RSPV’d a plus one, I think. Or she said something a few months ago– it's a bit fuzzy, but she told me she was coming with someone else. I– I mean, I was certain it would be you.”

Harry’s smile faltered just a bit before he shook his head, the hands in his pockets had turned to fists as he turned to look around him. Wondering if he'd lay eyes on her or watch her holding hands with another guy.

It wasn't like he hadn't seen that before, but the excitement of seeing her for the first time in a while was slowly dwindling before he turned his head for what felt like the millionth time looking for her.

But this time, his vision landed on her. The rosy colored glasses that he saw her threw was starting to dim as the picture got a bit blurry.

The baby blue dress that fell just below her knees, the dip in the front. The silky material hung on her body, but his eyes stood on the hand that hand firmly on her waist as if to keep her tucked into him.

His greatest fears becoming reality as he looked up the girl giggling at a probable reasonable remark.

Cassidy took a break from her schoolgirl giggling to see Mari and Logan standing there, looking at her and the person practically wrapped around her. But when looked up to see that Harry had also been standing right there, a sudden course of fear trembled through her.

Fear was a strong word; worry was more like it.

She had known how Harry was, which is why she kept this a secret from him. Now, he was forced to get to know her boyfriend of three months because they were here on their own accord for a weekend. They would spend it together, having each other in their lives for a weekend. That's what he had requested, and what she could agree to.

He had promised her that– even if he hadn't realized that had included this moment right here, yet.

“Hi, guys!” Cass put on her smile, a gorgeous one that pushed the dimples on her chin forward. “Mari, you look so beautiful!”

The girls wove into a hug, Harry standing and staring at the man who had let Cassidy go– looking a bit as if he was uncomfortable at letting someone else touch her. His eyes stayed on them as Cassidy pulled back and moved onto Logan, congratulating them on the whole marriage thing.

It was like she was taking a moment before she would get to him. She looked at Mari’s ring, gushing about how beautiful it was and she beautiful she looked.

Her eyes reached Harry’s then, a sheepish smile on her face before she pushed her arms out to wrap her arms around him, one over his shoulder and the other around his ribs.

“It's so good to see you.” She commented; he wanted to say something back but the comfort of her made his face retreat into the slot of her shoulder and neck.

When they pulled away, he got a real look at her and gave her the smile she had been waiting to see.

“So glad you're here.” He told her before feeling like a blush had intermittently taken its place in his cheeks.

Their connection had faded a moment before she paused; she took a breath and stepped back before remembering the man who stood behind them.

“Guys, this is–“ She looked up at him, “This is Dalton. We've been seeing each other for a few months, and just thought it would be so good to introduce him here since we're all here.”

Harry had to try to remember to release the fists in his pocket before he would go to shake his hand.

“Dalton, this is Mari and Logan– the bride and groom,” She introduced, letting him shake their hands and give their respective hello’s, followed by congratulations and thanks. But then she turned to Harry, Dalton’s composure changing a moment before he watched Harry’s change too.

Cassidy felt small between them as she stares at the way they faced one another.

“Uh, Dalton, this is my friend, Harry. Harry, this is Dalton.”

Harry lets one of the sides of his face turn up in a smile before he reaches out to be the better person. “Best friend, actually. Nice to meet you.”

Cassidy looks at Harry, almost giving him a really?

The grip of the man’s hands together feels tense as Dalton gives him a courtesy, “Nice to meet you, too.”

As Cassidy watches the interaction, she notices that the way that Harry stands is taller and fuller—like he’s trying to prove to Dalton that he’s bigger, he’s better—that he could end him in a moment’s notice, if need be. She holds onto Dalton’s arm, practically pulling the man from his trance with trying to overthrow Harry’s dominance.

“Let’s get a drink, shall we?” She offers, giving Harry another grin before Cassidy and Dalton makes their way over to the bar area.

Harry watches tentatively before he notices that Logan and Mari are also a bit in shock by the interaction and the couth that Cassidy had to bring someone into this sacred space, once again. Harry knew how Cassidy felt most days about herself—she looked for the satisfaction of a partner, the confidence boost that having someone on her arm could bring her.

It was reassuring to Harry to think that she could go into a room by herself; owning the space and knowing who she was. That was what he was hoping for in this interaction, but instead, she had to enter with someone else.

And with that, came the idea that the men that Cassidy picked always had a knack for making her the jealous type. Harry could always tell that her reactions became much more aggressive, her body language becoming possessive.

Cassidy wanted to feel like she was the most special girl in the world, and somehow, Harry was always left picking up the pieces of her tortured, stomped on heart after the last guy had decided that she wasn’t good enough. What the men in Cass’ life failed to see, was that her heart was always borrowed, on loan. It was never theirs to keep, because they never nurtured it or regarded it in any sense.

Her kindness had been taken from granted, her will to give was always overused and spent.

Harry knew that his love for Cassidy ran deeper than the deepest oceans, and wider than the largest forests, but something inside of him knew that they were better off as friends. Maybe it was because she was smart, and he figured she would have figured it out by now; the way he looked at her overruled the way he would ogle art painted on canvas, or sculptures tall and mighty.

He was always there with a rose and a smile, standing outside her door after the last guy packed his belongings and left for good.

It was why watching her happy, standing by the bar without a care in the world broke his heart into a million pieces. He knew that he was always there to rescue her, and he could see by the way that the guy stood away from her—maybe even trying to get a glimpse of the other women around him. But Cassidy’s naivety kept her eyes locked on the man instead, her irises shaped like hearts.

Mari and Logan had started a new conversation with another few people, Harry stood with his hands in his pockets as he tried to figure out a course of action. He had figured that the night would be wasted away—quite literally and figuratively—with Cassidy by his side, but now he felt more alone than he had before.

A man with champagne on a tray walked by, and Harry grabbed two flutes. One for each hand. He downed one quickly before he made his way back to the bar where the two of them had been standing before setting one of the glasses down and keeping the other before he noticed that Cassidy had grabbed a glass of red wine—Cab Sav, most likely.

The man—Dalton—held a short, rocks-glass that just had something clear in it, possibly straight vodka, if he was brave.

“So, you really didn’t bring anyone? Haven’t met anyone yet? You’ve usually grabbed a few asses by now,” Cassidy spoke out, moving around Dalton to get closer to Harry. He turned his attention back to her, shaking his head a few times.

“No—I mean, I thought we were just going to hang out. I didn’t know you were bringing someone.” Harry’s eyes flicked up towards Dalton’s before he watched Cassidy bite her lip. The red on her lips had either been from the stain of the wine or the way she bit on her lip; either way, Harry found it to be enticing enough to stare for a beat too long.

“I—I don’t know, I just assumed you would have brought someone with you. Weren’t you seeing someone?”

Harry took a sip from the flute, shrugging casually, “Yeah. But not like, exclusively.”

Cassidy nodded a few times, raising her brows, “Is it ever exclusive with you?”

There was a teasing tone in her voice, but the way that her eyes lifted to investigate his own only made his stomach drop at the intention. Harry felt an incredible sting through his chest as he cleared his throat, almost to wash away the sensitivity that he felt around his heart.

He went to speak, but his lips didn’t seem to let any words leave. Instead, the bartender interrupted as Harry realized that there may have been a small line forming behind them.

Harry, Cassidy, and Dalton moved to the side a bit—all three having their drinks in their hands before they found themselves in a circle of silence. Each taking sips of their drinks before Dalton seemed to make a move of conversation towards Harry, nodding at him.

“So, what do you do for a living, Harry?” He licked over his lips, a tight smile painted on his face before Harry could respond.

“I’m—uh, I’m an art curator. At a small art gallery in London.”

Cassidy chimed in, “Harry has great taste, actually. He’s put together some really great art expos and exhibits.”

“Hm,” Dalton hummed, “Where is the gallery? My parents host charity galas, and we are on the board at the National Gallery and the Portrait Gallery.” He chuckles a bit, “I assume you’re not curating there.”

Harry feels the way that his jaw tightens, almost an innate reaction to the way that the man puts him down. Harry pushes his shoulders back before lifting his head. Cassidy looks to Dalton, speaking on Harry’s behalf.

“N-No, it’s—” But she’s interrupted when Harry speaks, then.

“It’s neither of those, no. It’s a bit more modern, helping to lift unknown artists who are looking to make their way into the conversation, which I think it’s very important. Especially now, our worldview is so mirrored by adding such high value to art that never needed it to begin with—art shouldn’t have value like that, in my opinion.” He felt that his tongue had a bit of venom on it when he took a larger sip of the champagne, practically downing that one, as well.

Dalton nodded. “I see. Well, I assume that amateur art wouldn’t have a value like Michelangelo or Vermeer, would they? But I think it’s presumptuous to say that art doesn’t have value. Everything has a price.”

Cassidy took in a breath before she took a large sip of wine; her eyes went to Harry who almost seemed like he would explode at any moment.

“Most things don’t have a price. Nothing has a price, it’s all relative. We, as a society, added price so people of higher status could act like they were better than other people, when it was all a façade to just make them look a bit fancier with their pretty goldleaf vases and Vermeer’s. A Vermeer painting doesn’t hold value to me, anyways.”

Dalton nodded a few times, giving a mock toast to the man in front of him, before he looked down at Cassidy.

“Yeah, that’s quite obvious. Class isn’t a given, it’s inherited. You should see the types of people that try to get their hands on these gala tickets, as if it’s some sort of carnival they can just attend. Half of them don’t have two quid to rub together, and it’s just embarrassing at that point.”

Harry took a step forward before Cassidy realized that his expression meant one of anger. Her arm pushed him back a bit before Dalton recognized the move and his eyes held a gentle smirk of cockiness.

It sat in Cassidy’s throat as she felt the deflation of her confidence. The weekend she had been looking forward to being was diminished quick before her eyes, and all she could do was count on the glass of wine that hadn’t even really been filled halfway.

“What he means is, being exclusive is an honor, and you of all people should know that, I’m sure.” Her eyes drive up to him, and Harry looks at her with that same feeling of hurt that he had felt moments ago by the bar. Harry’s lips parted as he looked at her and felt the subtle sting of her accusation.

Whether or not she meant it as a jab, he wasn’t quite sure, but that didn’t make it hurt less.

“Excuse me, Cassidy,” Dalton chuckles with a hint of a mocking tone, “I can speak for myself, darling. No need to interrupt.”

In just that moment, Harry felt himself push against Cassidy’s arm that had been subtly holding him back with no force other than the small barrier of her shoulder. The small push sent Cassidy off balance, which in turn allowed the slosh of wine to knock around her glass.

“And who are you to talk to her like that?” Harry questioned; his eyes now centered on Dalton as his brow knit together. “Fuck off with that, will you?”

“Bloody hell,” Cassidy gasped out, her eyes dropping to the small amount of wine that covered the hardwood floor underneath them—small droplets of the red wine were coating the bottom of her dress; only enough for her to notice, really, but her eyes narrowed at the floor.

Harry and Dalton both turned to her then, Harry’s eyes dropping to the way that she held her dress up to get a bit of a better glimpse of the stain.

“Oh, fuck, Cass. I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to do that. Hey, I’ll clean it up—” Harry moves towards her, his hand holding at her bicep to help keep her balance.

“Good work, mate.” Dalton eyed Harry, who felt the need to clench his fists again. He did so rather quickly, trying to get the feeling of anger to subside for the moment so that he could focus on Cassidy in the moment.

“It’s fine—really, I just want to make sure it doesn’t stain. I—let me go back to my room, I think I have a stain stick.” She lifts her head to look at before she starts to move out of the small space.

“Let me help,” Harry offers, starting to follow behind her. It feels like an opportunity to take—the two of them alone for just a moment so that he can gauge how she’s really feeling about Dalton and this whole situation. The first few minutes of him have Harry already written off, and he knows the type of person she needs to be with should never be one to talk over her.

“No—Harry, it’s okay, I’ve got it.” She says quickly before she feels Dalton’s hand on her, as if to help guide her.

“I can help, darling.” He tells her, “Don’t worry about it. We can buy you a new one, if it’s too bad.”

Harry rolls his eyes and practically gags at the way he speaks to her. As if Cassidy couldn’t buy her own, for herself. He watches as he feels that Cassidy may be a bit overwhelmed by the two of them staring at her, knowing that they’re both fighting for her attention and affection.

The look on her face suggests as such before she look at Harry and blinks a few times, noticing that he had started to back off a bit. Not that he really wanted to, but knowing her, she didn’t want all the attention on her at once.

Harry downed the rest of the champagne, leaving the flute on a small table before Cassidy knit her brows and shook her head. “Actually, Harry— can you help? Your mum’s stain trick always seems to work. I can’t remember, though.”

His eyes float to Dalton who seems a bit taken aback by her push to have Harry go up to her room with her instead.

Harry nods a few times, watching as Dalton goes to speak, but Cassidy reassures him. “I’ll be right back, okay? We won’t be long.” She hands the man her wine glass, only a quarter full now, as most of it had landed on the sandy wood floors.

It’s then that the two of them take off towards the elevator. Cassidy has a bit of a stomp in her step, almost like she’s making sure that her and Harry aren’t in direct line so he can’t speak to her. The fits of anger that bubble in her chest is unexplained as she goes to press the elevator button to go upwards. Her arms crossed over her chest as she stares at the way that the light changes to go upwards.

“I can’t believe you’d do this to me.” Cassidy speaks out, a bit quietly as if to just think her thoughts—not say them outwardly.

“C’mon, Cass, he's got the ego of a narcissist and the smile of a Kennedy, you really think a guy like this could be the love of your life? Honestly.” Harry hounded her as they entered the elevator. He reached for the button, but Cassidy was already there, pressing three.

“That's not fair, Harry, you don't know him.” She settled against the wall as she stared at the ceiling, feeling the movement before she held onto the railing behind her. “He’s extremely smart, he’s confident—he knows what he wants. Which I think you and him may not agree on.”

Harry stayed quiet for a moment before he looked back at her, knowing she wouldn’t look at him—but knowing that he had to say the words to her.

“But I know you.”

Cassidy shakes her head as if she’d heard that from him before. Something about the mixture of the two men felt familiar with many of the guys she had brought home, or brought to meet Harry, really. She couldn’t figure out if he just couldn’t understand that she was dating this guy—not just sleeping with him. They were forming a connection, but maybe Harry didn’t understand that.

Harry didn’t understand the concept of falling in love was possible, probably because she had never seen that happening. She had never seen Harry madly in love with someone; never seen his heart broken before. She didn’t know if that was a red flag or if that was a person choice that he didn’t allow for himself.

Either way, she wasn’t going to let him ruin her chances at finding it—no matter what his personal opinions were.

“So, why are you putting me through this? C’mon, no one is ever good enough for you. I never said I was going to marry the guy!”

The shuffle of them towards the door to the hotel room increases as Cassidy throws the key against the electronic pad to open the door. Harry follows in quickly behind as she throws her shoes off. Harry makes sure to avoid tripping and falling over them but knows diligently that she takes her shoes off every time she walks through her door—without fail.

He knew that.

“But why waste your time if you won't spend your life with him?” Harry questions, turning on the light in the foyer of the small room that Cassidy and Dalton were sharing. Harry’s eyes tried not to wander as he saw the unfamiliarity of the dark navy suitcase on the floor next to the TV.

“I didn’t say that I wouldn’t,” Cass answers a bit with a huff as she rustles through her own suitcase to try to find the detergent stick, she had forgotten to throw in her bag, “All I said was I wasn't sure if I would, maybe I will! Also, I can throw that question right back at you, Mr. One-and-Done.”

Harry stands with his hands in his pockets as he knits his brows together at her answer.

“I just don’t think he’s the one, Cass. That’s all I said. You don’t have to insult me, too.”

“No, Harry, that’s not all you said,” She retorts, “You rolled your eyes, you were a bit disrespectful, you—you started like,” She scrunches her nose when she comes back with the detergent stick in his hand as she sits on the edge of the bed. “You were like puffing your chest at him or something—like you were trying to prove a point. Just because he doesn’t share the same opinion as you, doesn’t mean he’s wrong, you know?”

Harry pursed his lips as she had walked by him, feeling that her entrance into the room gave him permission to follow. He didn’t want to pry into her life if he wasn’t invited to.

“I was not puffing my chest at him, that’s ridiculous.”

He took a seat next to her on the bed as she pulled the long dress up just to her knee to try and rub the stain stick over the red wine stain before she dropped the fabric in her lap.

“Yes, you were,” She tells him, “You do that whenever a guy gets too close, like you’re trying to scare them off or something, and it’s bullshit because you don’t even give them a chance.”

“Why would I give them a chance when I can obviously tell that they’re not good for you?”

Cassidy dropped the dress fabric in her lap as she sighed a bit louder, very obviously done with the back and forth where no one would win. Her head turned towards Harry, sitting next to her now. The way that her throat tightened when their eyes met almost immediately threatened her composure.

“You never give them a chance, Harry,” She tells him with honesty in her tone; wanting him to listen to her like he had never listened before. She knew that he was hard-headed, stubborn to say the least. But she knew that when he really knew she was serious, he would back down. “I just want to make this work, okay? He’s a good guy—I promise, he is. And he would make my life comfortable. He’s looking for a wife, a family. He’s looking to settle down. We’re thirty, Harry—I want to have these commitments, even if you don’t.”

“I don’t doubt he’s a good guy, Cass—really, I—” He stops himself as he thinks of all the people he’s made promise’s too over the years, over various occasions, and conversations that he would think back to whenever he caught a glimpse of the green eyes that laid on his now.

Her mum, Barbara. Her younger brother, Antonio. Her best girlfriend from uni, Annabelle.

But her dad, Tony, was the most important for him to honor—considering he knew that he left the planet wanting Cassidy to be in the best hands; he had gotten confirmation from Harry in their last conversation that he would never let someone hurt her. And was loved, there was a guarantee that she would be loved and cherished until the end of time.

There were people in her life that had always looked at Harry as a guide, whether they meant anything by it, but they knew that Harry knew Cassidy better than anyone in the entire world. He had known every detail of her life for the twenty-some years that they had been the best of friends.

But it had always just been there– the best of friends. Saying anything different could change the whole dynamic of what that was.

“What is it? Why do you always do this to me?”

“Why do I always do this to you?” Harry questioned, setting Cassidy back a bit. She stared at him before she felt the way that their connection seemed to have a sense of distance between them. “Cassy, I thought we were going to have a weekend just the two of us. Just like we had been talking about—you know? We haven’t seen each other in so long, we haven’t spent any time together recently. You’re right—we’re thirty now. Life is going to change, but I wanted to have at least one more time where it would just be the two of us to spend laughing and making fun of people like Walton.”

Cassidy fought so hard to not smile at the name Harry gave her date, “Fuck off, you know it’s Dalton.”

“Cass, it doesn’t matter what his name is.” Harry grumbled, rolling his eyes, “What matters is that you always do this to me. You always insert this jackass as if to push him in my face and practically tease me with it. And what’s with all the jokes about me being exclusive?”

Cassidy feels her shoulders deflate, her eyes batting a few times before she shakes her head. “I just want you to find the right person, too, and maybe that would make you back from me and my choices just a bit. You think that I would treat a girl you dated like that? You think I would sit there and puff out my chest and try to make my boobs look bigger to make you look at me instead of her?”

Harry shrugs. “If you were jealous enough, I’d hope you would.” He goes to say something else but quickly shakes his head as if to not speak too much.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Cassidy tells him, her eyes giving a small up and down motion as she realizes how much space was between them now.

Harry stands up, his hands moving through his hair in a frustrated motion before he goes to stand in front of her at the end of the bed. “Don’t you get it? Don’t you see it? Just because I’m the one with the artistic eye doesn’t mean that I’m the only one who can see art, Cass. You know when we go to the galleries in new cities we travel to, and I really make you look at them? You glance at them and are like, ‘that’s a nice one’ or ‘that’s pretty’. No, I really want you to look at it—and then sometimes it makes you emotional because you can really see the way that the artist has manipulated his wrists to make the kinds of strokes that the brushwork is, or the way that the divot in the sculpture is supposed to look like it’s a flaw, but it’s intentional? And that what you didn’t see before, because you were just glancing, is really there all the time?”

Cassidy looked at Harry who was standing in front of her, his eyebrows knit and his face practically begging for her to see him. He’s begging her to recognize this game that he had been playing wasn’t a game at all, it was just a matter of time. It was a matter of wanting her to see what they could be so that he didn’t have to spell it out.

He didn’t want to push her, but he wanted her to see it for herself. First and foremost, he wanted her to want it as much as he had.

“All I’m seeing is that you’re painting me out to be the bad guy here. All you do cycle through girls like a manic—you’re sleeping with one, you’re stringing one along. You think that’s supposed to entice me?” She asks quaintly, a bit quietly as she shakes her head, looking at Harry who seems to be on the verge of a mental breakdown.

He shuts his eyes, shaking his head as he takes in a deep breath to try and get to a level of calmness that fits his demeaner.

“No, Cass! I just wanted you to see how in love with you I am!” The words that leave his mouth are practically begging, but they leave a sour silence in the room as Cassidy is taken by the tone Harry’s voice; his hands resting on his hips as he finishes the pacing he had been doing.

“Cassidy,” Harry swallowed down the lump that had been sitting in his throat, his voice practically faltering as he shook his head, trying so badly to get through to the words he had been looking for. “I’ve been in love with you my entire life. They were never there to stay, okay? That’s why I didn’t look for exclusivity— it was never theirs. I was saving every ounce of my love and my time and my affection for you, and you never reached out to take any of it.”

Her silence hits her for a moment as she sits with her wine-stained dress in her lap on the white, linen sheets before she watches the man in front of her professing all the love and needs to her. She doesn’t feel like she can speak, but her eyes drift down to her lap as she feels all the sudden unable to find the words at all.

“Look—I’m sorry, I—I just can’t see you being with someone like this. And it physically hurts me to see you heartbroken when I know,” Harry pulls his lips into his mouth as he puts his hands on his hips, “I know that guy is going to fucking annihilate you. You’re going to fall in love with him, and he’s going to take it all and run with it. And there I’ll be, standing there, waiting for you to realize what’s been waiting for you this entire time. It’s just bound to happen.”

Cassidy sits with her hands in her lap, chewing on her lip as she feels the threatening of tears to spill from her eyes. She doesn’t understand the overwhelming feeling of the man’s words as she shakes her head, a sad chuckle leaving her throat as she looks up at him.

“He ordered me a pinot noir tonight,” She nods, “Told me that it was the best wine he’d ever had before.”

“Yeah, ‘cause he doesn’t know that you exclusively drink Cab Sav from a box, no matter what, unless you’re celebrating something big, then it’s a discounted bottle of Dom Perignon from that Lombardi’s store down from your flat,” Harry tells her with a scoff, almost like it had been a test to prove that he knew her better than anyone in the world did.

And Cassidy knew that he did, but the validation that he showed only made her tear fall with the knowledge that he didn’t just listen—he remembered, he supplied this vision of her and this want for her that didn’t come with rules or expectations.

Harry just saw her.

And in a world where you want to be seen, Cassidy just fought to be glanced at. She fought for the spot in someone’s eye, but when she thought that Harry only had eyes for art, she couldn’t have imagined what he had seen in her this entire time.

“Yeah,” Cass nodded, “That’s what I thought you’d say.”

Harry shook his head, looking at the ground as he started to feeling heaps of embarrassment but knowing that the awkward silence in the room was there to stay for a few more minutes at least. “I’d never order you a fucking pinot noir.”

Cassidy nods a few more times before she looks at the stains on the dress, knowing that it’s stained for good. That the stain stick won’t work anymore but knowing that it’s sometimes okay to have something marked, in the case that you wanted it to stick around forever.

Her heart felt like it had been borrowed and bruised but watching as Harry stared down at her only made it flutter as if trying to come back from the dead.

There were three things that Cassidy had been looking forward to this week—when she had originally booked the trip, that is.

One of them was to have a large glass of Cab Sav and sit on the balcony with Harry and laugh at the way that the people were pummeled by the waves; they always got too brave and then would be smashed down by the force of the water.

The second was to be able to dance. The dancing at the weddings always made her feel like she had been letting go of every ounce of worry and detrimental work email that she had received since the last time she was dancing at a wedding. It usually felt like a cleanse.

The third was to watch people fall in love. To watch people and see that their forever was right in front of their eyes and to confirm every moment of it with vows and unspeakable glances that felt like a bound contractual agreement.

As Cassidy stood in front of Harry now, her dress a mess of stain and wet, detergent marks, her eyes searched his for a moment before she looked up at him, with a different set of eyes, this time.

They were colored in a way that felt extraordinarily bright, like she had woken up from the darkest slumber. The mask of uncertainty was laying on the floor as she felt his hands lift her jaw to look at him, his feet taking a step forward.

“I think they say this at weddings,” He squinted at her, the line of a smirk coating his face as he kept his words quiet. Her hand moved up to hold his wrist as she bit on her lip softly, feeling the way that their lips tried to find one another—slow, encapsulated by an intense amount of tension, “’Speak now, or forever hold your peace’?”

The silence between them spoke for itself.

Harry pulled her forward, not rushed, but certainly not waiting a second longer. His lips attached to hers in a way that felt every single day of the last twenty years; the kiss that could have lasted the rest of his life without a doubt in his mind.

It was what was bound to happen all along; there just had to be a few frogs before the real prince revealed himself.

Well, that’s what Harry told himself, anyways. Cassidy would just roll her eyes, but knew that at the end of the day, it had always been him.

Exclusively him.

#harry styles x original character #harry writing #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fluffy #harry styles au #harry styles #wattpadwriter #wattpad #harry wattpad #harry styles fanfic #ask #hs #harry styles fanfiction #anon ask #blurb writing #writing blurb #bound

467 notes · View notes