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imaginedisish · 5 months ago

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Dare (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Hey guys. Just wanted to say thank you for all the support I got this morning. All of your comments really warmed my heart. Thank you so, so, so much. I ended up getting this done pretty fast. Went with "Dare" by Gorillaz for the title. Made me feel better to write. I like this one. Hope you do, too. Enjoy!

Summary: Logan finds out you've never been eaten out while playing a game of "Truth or Dare," and he's more than willing to change that.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!!! SMUT!!! Oral (f!receiving), Fingering, softdom!Logan, pussydrunk!Logan (he does not let up, he is starving for you), older!Logan, implied aged gap (reader is in her 20s/old enough to teach at the institute), cocky!Logan, he is an absolute service dom in this, friends to lovers, mentions of mental health/self worth, fluff, some hurt to comfort, some angst, afab/fem!reader, cursing, def some grammatical errors, I think that's it.

Word Count: 4,235 wowza didn't expect that and oh my god this gif

You’re lying on your floor—the door to your room wide open. Everyone is out anyway. It’s Friday night at the mansion—no one will see you like this. Students’ papers are scattered around you. You stare up at the ceiling, feeling choked up. It had been a bad day—a bad week. Maybe even a bad year. You feel like you’re slipping, losing yourself.

Teaching the older students had become beyond challenging—possibly because you aren’t much older than them in the first place. Most days, it felt like everyone expected greatness from you, given the strength of your powers, which naturally comes with responsibility, and that can be incredibly overwhelming. It had all been—if you were being brutally honest—an absolutely terrible time.

So, you’re lying on your floor, feeling numb. You stopped grading papers at least an hour ago, and simply decided to stare at the ceiling, your head spinning. You wanted to calm the noise, to take a breather. Luckily, you’re alone—everyone is on a mission or out given that it’s Friday night.

Or so you thought.

“What on Earth are you doing?” A familiar voice cuts through the silence like a knife, jarring you, and forcing you to look up. And there he is, in a white t-shirt and denim jeans, arms crossed tightly against his chest, leaning in the doorway. Logan. You want to roll your eyes at how good he looks. You want to slap yourself for thinking it in the first place.

He smirks at you, his brows furrowed playfully. You let your head fall back to the floor. “Grading papers,” you mutter. You can hear his footsteps as he walks into the room, drawing closer to you.

“Doesn’t look like you’re grading papers to me,” he teases. You can hear the smile in his voice. “Why aren’t you out with Jean or Rogue?”

He stands next to you, and you look up at him. “Didn’t feel like it,” you mumble, forcing yourself to sit up. You draw your knees into your chest. You decide to turn the question around on him. “Why aren’t you out?”

He sits down next to you, stretching his long legs in front of him, his shoulder bumping against yours as he settles in. He shrugs. “Somebody’s gotta keep an eye on you, right?” He jokes, nudging his elbow into your arm. You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. It’s impossible to fight it when he’s next to you. Your eyes meet his, and his smile quickly turns into something else—concern. “You’ve been off lately.”

You swallow harshly. “Did Jean or Rogue say something?” You ask. They’d notice, maybe they told Logan. “Did they ask you to stay with me or something?”

But Logan shakes his head. “No. I could just tell,” he says, worry clear in his voice. “Thought I’d hang back with you. All my idea.” He tilts his head, his jaw working, his brows furrowing again. “Is something going on?”

You take a deep breath, turning away from him. You’re suddenly overwhelmed by his presence, by his kindness and his care. He stayed home for you. “I’m okay,” you mutter, avoiding the truth.

“Hey,” Logan whispers, tentatively reaching his hand to your knee, waiting for you to shove him away. His palm is warm against your skin, calming and stabilizing. You turn back to look at him, his brows raised incredulously. “I know that’s not true,” he says. He has always been able to read you like a book. “What’s going on?”

You swallow harshly. “I’ve just been having a tough time lately,” you say, distracted by the way his thumb brushes across your knee. “I…” You trail off, letting your eyes fall closed. “Things are hard.”

“You can talk about it if you want,” he says, his voice deep and steady. “I’m here.”

You sniffle, struggling to keep yourself in check. “I just…” you pause, looking off to the side. “Everything sucks.” You take another deep breath. “And the students are so hard.” You point to the piles of papers scattered around your floor. “And then there’s me, and all my shit. My powers. The responsibilities we have. I’m young, and I’m still learning. And fuck, Logan, this all just feels so impossible sometimes. It…it…” You trail off, finally running out of words, out of steam.

“It hurts.” He finishes your sentence, taking the words right out of your mouth. You turn back towards him, your eyes instantly meeting his. “It hurts a lot.”

You nod. “Yeah, exactly.” He squeezes your knee comfortingly. “You get it,” you murmur.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he soothes, his hand lifting off your knee, his arm wrapping around your shoulder instead. “I’ve got you.” You let yourself lean into his touch, resting your head in the crook of his neck. “Let’s take your mind off things, yeah?”

You nod against him, not wanting to move away, not wanting to separate from him. He feels so nice, so solid. “What did you have in mind?” You ask, hoping it doesn’t involve getting up.

“Wanna play a game?” He offers, turning his head to look down at you. You smile widely, almost mockingly. “What?” He chides. “You think I don’t know how to have fun?”

You laugh softly. “I just don’t see you as a game guy, Lo,” you confess. He chuckles, and you can feel his laughter reverberating through his chest. “Can you even think of one to play?”

Logan’s still laughing, shaking his head. “What about truth or dare?” He ever so slightly pulls you in closer, his lips pressed against the side of your head.

You giggle, feeling light for the first time in a long time. “Are we in seventh grade?” You ask teasingly. You felt like a teenager, honestly—being next to Logan always made you feel like a love-sick schoolgirl. But you know you and him could never be. You were younger than Logan—everyone was—but you, being in your 20s, assume that Logan doesn’t see you the way you see him.

He just shakes his head and laughs, pulling you back to reality. “Truth or dare?” He asks, ignoring your middle school comment and officially starting the game.

You don’t want to get up, don’t want to move an inch, so you answer: “Truth,” hoping it isn’t anything too crazy.

Logan thinks for a second, his head resting on yours. “Why’d you pick truth instead of dare?” He finally asks.

You roll your eyes. “Boring!” You tease. “I only picked it because I don’t feel like moving.” And then you realize…perhaps your answer is more revealing than you previously considered. Your heart thunders in your chest.

Logan hums. “And why don’t you want to move, exactly?” He’s onto you.

“You asked your question, you got an answer,” you protest, trying to shut him down. “No follow-up questions.” It’s your turn now. “Truth or dare?” You ask.

“Truth,” he says. “Because maybe I don’t feel like moving either.”

You smile, and you can feel him looking down at you. You’re too nervous to meet his gaze. You think for a moment, racking your brain for a question. “Did you really stay home for me, and was it all your own idea?” You finally ask. You regret the question almost immediately, fearful of the honest answer.

“Yes,” he responds without a beat. “Jean said you were staying in, and said she didn’t know why, so I stayed too.” He pauses, and you can hear his steady breathing amidst the silence. “I was worried, princess.” The pet name burns a hole through your heart. “Needed to know that you were okay.”

You can feel tears building behind your sinuses. “Thank you, Lo,” you whisper. “That means a lot.”

He presses the ghost of a kiss to the crown of your head—almost not quite there. But you can feel it, hesitant and tentative. “It’s nothing, no need to thank me.” You finally find the courage to look up at him and find him smiling down at you. His lips part. “Truth or dare?” He asks again.

You can feel some sort of tension brewing, building, thick and heavy. You try to ignore it, try to brush it off. Your heart hammers in your chest. “Truth,” you pick again. “But get a little more creative this time.”

He pauses, the gears in his head turning. And then finally: “Why’s your heart beating so fast? It’s loud, too.”

Your eyes widen, suddenly remembering Logan’s heightened senses. He can hear everything. “Uh…” You trail off, not sure how to get out of this. “I-It’s not…”

He laughs. “You’re a terrible liar. You know that?” His voice is deep and honeyed, smooth. “You gotta answer the question, or I get to ask another.”

“Those are not the rules!” You protest, lifting your head to look at him. He’s got that shit-eating grin on his face, the one that makes your stomach drop.

He tugs you into his chest again, his lips at the shell of your ear. “Then answer the question,” he whispers, his breath warm against your skin, sending a chill down your spine. He’s so close. Too close. Your heart is only beating faster, louder now.

“I don’t know,” you whisper. But of course, you know. It’s all because of him. “Just anxious, I guess.” It’s a half-truth—you’re certainly nervous, but you can’t bring yourself to tell him why.

“No need to be nervous, sweetheart,” Logan coos, his thumb brushing circles into your shoulder. “It’s just me.”

Yes, exactly, you want to say. It’s you. But you don’t. You try to steady your breathing, try to calm down. “My turn,” you force yourself to say. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” he says darkly. “And make it good.” You can hear the cockiness in his voice—a sudden shift in his tone.

“We should just call this truth or truth,” you say, mulling over a question in your mind. It’s hard to think with him this close—hard to breathe. You want to rile him up, to find out what makes him tick—to make him itch the way he makes you. And then it hits you: the perfect question. “When was the last time you…” You stop yourself, suddenly too nervous to ask.

“When was the last time I what, darlin’?” He asks, cocking his head to the side, raising his eyebrows.

You huff. You’ve fallen into your own trap. There’s no backing out now. “When was the last time…” You pause again, biting your lip. You close your eyes. “…somebody got you off?”

“Been a while,” he says simply. Your eyes flutter open, and Logan is completely relaxed, his eyes trained on you. He isn’t annoyed. He’s unbothered, unprovoked, as if you had asked him what the weather was going to be like tomorrow. “But it depends on how you mean. So, what do you mean?” He finishes.

You’re slightly frustrated by how easy it was for him to answer. “I don’t know,” you mutter, shrugging your shoulders. “Whatever the last time was.”

“Few years back, not particularly proud of it,” he huffs. “Girl took care of me in a bar. That was it.”

You nod. “Must’ve been nice,” you whisper, suddenly feeling a bit disheartened. You catch his drift; you know it didn’t mean anything. You likely didn’t know Logan at that time, having only arrived at the Institute two years ago. You know you shouldn’t feel jealous, shouldn’t care that he was ever with someone else, even for a fleeting moment. You’ve had boyfriends. You’ve been with other people.

“It was fine. Just a blowjob.” He says it nonchalantly. “Didn’t mean a thing.” You look straight ahead, waiting for him to elaborate. But he doesn’t. “Truth or dare?” He finally asks.

“Truth.” Your fake, plastered-on smile becomes real when his eyes meet yours. It’s just what happens when you look at him. “And make it interesting.”

The corner of his mouth turns up slyly, and you know he has something up his sleeve. “When was the last time somebody did that to you?” He asks.

You cock your head to the side. “What do you mean?” But you already know exactly what he’s asking. And you desperately do not want to give him the answer.

“Got you off, like that,” he husks. “With their mouth.”

Fuck. “Uh…” You trail off. You can feel heat spreading across your chest and up your neck, your skin prickling. “Never,” you say honestly.

“What?” Logan’s voice cuts through the tension like a knife. “Never?”

You’re suddenly embarrassed. Your skin feels tight—so do your shorts and tank top. “Never,” you repeat, looking down at your knees, still pulled in tightly to your chest. Your heart beats rapidly. “Just hasn’t happened yet,” you choke out. “I’ve been with people, but…”

“Hey,” he whispers, suddenly grabbing your chin and angling you up to face him. “It’s okay,” he soothes. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, princess.”

You smile shyly, reveling in his touch. “You didn’t,” you insist honestly. “Just a little embarrassed.”

Logan shakes his head, his eyes softening. “Nothing to be embarrassed about,” he assures. “You deserve to be taken care of.” His hand slides across your jaw and cups the back of your neck. “Deserve to feel good.”

Your eyes flutter closed at his touch. “Lo,” you whisper, struggling to keep your composure. Heat pools between your thighs. “Tr-truth or dare.”

His forehead presses to yours. “I think we’re done with the game, pretty girl,” he rasps, the arm around your shoulder slipping down to your waist. “Unless I get to give you a dare this time.”

“What’s the dare?” You ask, your eyes fluttering back open. His lips are so close. Your noses touch softly.

He works his jaw, licking his lips. “Let me eat you out, pretty girl,” he pants, his chest heaving against yours. “Let me take care of you like you should’ve been already.” He hates the idea that you’ve never been touched properly, the idea that those younger guys didn’t know how to treat you right. But he can fix that. He can make you feel good.

“Fuck,” you curse, his breath fanning across your lips. “A-are you sure?” You ask. “I don’t want you to do it just because you feel bad for me or—” “You think that’s what this is about?” He cuts you off, pulling you closer so that your body faces his, your thighs slotting together like puzzle pieces. “You think I want this just because I feel bad for you?”

“Well…” You search his eyes. “Yes,” you say.

Logan’s face falls, and he shakes his head. “I want you, pretty girl,” he pants, his knee rubbing against your aching core. “Wanted you this whole time.” His palm presses firmly against your back, his other hand gripping your neck tighter. He wants, no, needs you closer. “You ruined me the second I saw you. Haven’t been with anyone since then.”

“Logan,” you whisper, bringing your hands up to his neck. “I want you too. Always have,” you confess.

He smiles, his lips pressing a chaste kiss to yours. “Then let me do this for you,” he rasps, almost begging, like he needs this more than you do. “Need to make you feel good, beautiful.” “Please,” you breathe. “Want you so bad, Lo.”

He curses under his breath, his lips capturing yours, harder this time. This kiss is starving, all-consuming. His tongue swipes across your lower lip, and you open your mouth, inviting him inside. He lowers you down carefully, sure not to break the kiss, guiding your back to the wood floor below.

His thighs rest on either side of your hips as he hovers over you, bracing himself with his forearm. His free hand trails up your body, exploring your curves, hiking your shirt above your breasts. He smirks against your lips at the realization that you have no bra on.

“Look at you,” he mumbles, rolling a nipple under his thumb, palming your breast. “Fucking perfect.” His fingertips drag to the other side, massaging you gently, taking your nipple between his thumb and forefinger and pinching softly. “Can smell you, you know,” he grunts. “Know you’re soaking for me, darlin’.”

His hand slides between the valley of your breasts, trailing down your stomach, until his fingertips bump into the waistband of your panties. He hesitates, looking down at you, waiting for you to change your mind, to tell him to stop. “Please,” you beg. “Need you, Lo.”

Logan smirks, his hand slipping under the hem of your shorts and inside your panties. “Love it when you call me that, sweetheart,” he groans. His fingertips flick your clit gently before finding your folds, feeling your arousal. “Barely even touched you,” he tuts. “And she’s already crying for me.”

He prods your entrance, spreading your slick, teasing you. He bites your lips, sucking so hard he might bruise—might draw blood—and you hope he does. You want proof that he was here, proof that he wants you—needs you this badly. You moan as his fingers find your clit again, drawing a few soft circles before pulling away, his hand slipping out of your shorts.

You grab his biceps needily, impatiently, your nails digging into his skin. “Don’t stop,” you cry out. “Please, Logan.”

He swallows your moans with another kiss, his lips trailing down to your jaw, then your neck—that sensitive spot just under your ear. “Don’t worry, pretty girl,” he soothes, biting down on your pulse point, licking the hollow of your throat. “Don’t think I could stop if I tried.” He nips at your collarbone, shoving your tank top further up your chest as his lips drag down the valley of your breasts.

He kisses his way to your stomach, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down your legs. His palms spread across your inner thighs, yanking them apart. He settles between them, his face just inches from your heat. He presses a chaste kiss to your clit, still all too clothed, hidden behind your panties.

“Lo,” you whine. He breathes you in, pressing another kiss to your clit. He digs his fingers into the hem of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs.

“Wanna take my time with you, sweetheart,” he grunts, finally throwing your panties to the side. He spreads your legs wider, his face settling back between your thighs. You can feel his breath against your cunt, warm and teasing. “Wanna take care of you.” His lips finally find your clit again, and he licks at you.

His tongue is soft, warm, wet. He laps at you again, harder this time, and you moan his name. “Fuck,” you curse as he licks a long stripe through your folds and back up to your clit, flicking the bud. Your legs twitch, your hips backing away involuntarily at the newfound pleasure. Logan’s hands slide under your ass, yanking you back to his face.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He mumbles teasingly against you, the vibration of his deep, bassy voice rocking your core. “Not letting you go until I’m done with you, darlin’.”

You curse under your breath as he licks another long, slow stripe through your folds before settling on your clit. His tongue draws gentle circles around the bud, and you can’t hold back the loud moan that falls from your lips.

“Yeah?” Logan husks between laps. “Feels good, pretty girl?”

“Y-yes,” you stammer, looking down at Logan, his face buried against your cunt. His eyes are trained on yours, watching your every move, taking in the way you’re squirming for him. “D-didn’t know it would feel this good, Lo.”

“Gonna try something, okay?” He says, his eyes searching yours. You nod emphatically, bracing yourself. His lips wrap around your clit, his teeth lightly grazing the bud as he pulls it into his mouth. And then he sucks, hard. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, your back arching off the floor.

He releases the bud, and does it again, sucking harder this time. Tears brim at the corners of your eyes, pleasure coursing through your veins. “Logan!” You cry out, your nails digging into the floor below, searching for purchase. “Fuck!” He laps at you soothingly, drawing tighter, faster circles around your clit.

“You okay?” He coos between laps, his tongue swirling rapidly.

You swallow, meeting his gaze again. The sight of him between your legs, working your clit, his hair a disheveled mess—it’s overwhelming. “Yeah,” you heave. “More than okay.”

He smirks against you and wraps his lips around your clit again, sucking on the bud like hard candy. His right hand slides out from under your ass, trailing up your inner thigh. Your heart thunders in your chest as his fingertips find your folds, spreading your slick, your walls clenching down around nothing.

“Know you need ‘em, pretty girl,” Logan croons, two fingers nudging your entrance. “Beg for it.”

But he’s sucking on your clit again, making it impossible to say a word. You whimper, your legs trembling. “P-please,” you stutter, choking on air. “Need…” You trail off, your eyes fluttering closed. You swallow harshly. “Need your fingers, Lo,” you finally manage.

“That’s a good girl,” he praises, shoving two fingers deep inside you, down to his knuckles.

“Fuck, thank you,” you whine, moaning his name as his fingers stretch you out. You suddenly feel so full, so warm, so close. He pulls out, only to plunge back in, deeper this time. He’s lapping at you with reckless abandon—a man starved, like you’re the air he needs to breathe. Your walls flutter around him, the liquid heat in your lower belly threatening to burst.

“Tastes so good,” Logan mumbles against you, his long, thick fingers thrusting in and out. He hits that sweet spot deep inside you with every pump. “Such a sweet little pussy. Tastes better than I imagined.” You’re crumbling underneath him. His words alone might push you over the edge. “Nothing compares to you, you know that?”

Your walls flutter again, his fingers sinking deeper inside you. “You like that?” Logan husks. “Like knowing how much I want you? How much I need you?”

“Yes,” you groan, his fingers fucking into you, faster now. His teeth graze your clit as he pulls the bud back into his mouth and sucks roughly. “N-need you, too. Always.”

“I know, pretty girl,” he soothes, scissoring inside you, dragging along your walls. He laps at you, his tongue stroking your clit. “Not going anywhere. I’ve got you.”

You curse under your breath. You can feel yourself melting, your walls contracting and releasing. “Lo,” you call. “I’m so close. Wanna…” You trail off, unable to finish.

“Can feel you squeezing me, sweetheart,” he breathes. “Don’t hold back. Let it happen,” he coaches, rocking into you. “Wanna taste you, wanna feel you come on my fingers.” He laps at you between sentences. “Come for me. Know you can do it.” And then everything is white-hot and blazing.

It’s earth-shattering—better than anything has ever felt before. The tension snaps, heat boiling under your skin. Everything is blurry, hazy, dizzied as you let go, and let go hard. You cry out Logan’s name, your thighs shaking as waves of pleasure drag you under. Your bones are burning, scorching. Everything is on fire—overwhelming and greedily all-consuming.

Logan’s pumps slow, and he carefully pulls out of you. He laves at you, his tongue pushing through your folds, milking you dry, savoring every last drop.

“Logan,” you whisper, your hands reaching down to his head, digging your fingers into his scalp.

He hums against you, unwavering as his tongue laps at your folds, tasting your release.

You’re still shaking, still coming down from your high. “Logan,” you call again, and he looks up this time, lifting his face from your cunt. Your release glistens on his chin, and he licks his lips clean of you. His eyes are dark, his palms squeezing your thighs possessively.

“I’m not done yet, sweetheart,” he says, demand clear in his voice.

Your heart flutters in your chest as he climbs up your body, hovering over you again. His lips find yours. “You taste that?” He mumbles, kissing you again, harder this time. “You taste how sweet you are?”

“Y-yes,” you answer, his hand sliding down your body, slipping between your legs, finding your overstimulated clit.

He pinches the bud lightly, your back arching off the ground, your breasts pressing to his all-too-clothed chest. “Need more of you,” he husks, his hand dragging back up your body. He sits up and pulls you into his chest, taking all your weight as he hoists you up and stands. You instinctually wrap your legs around his waist.

He places you in the center of your bed before striding across the room, closing and locking your bedroom door. “They’ll all be home soon,” Logan says, walking back towards you, spreading your legs and settling between your thighs. “Might have to be quiet for me, darlin’.”

“W-what do you—”

And then his face is buried deep inside your cunt, his tongue lapping desperately at your clit. “I told you,” he rasps. “I’m not finished with you yet.”

tags: @wittyjasontodd @wolverinesslut @galacticglitterglue @silversprings-mp3 @zxaera @spiderset @figsnpassionfruits @alastorssimp @alsoprettyinpink @prettyseaveins @ilysmdovie12 @evasmlp @derbygracie @rammakela @honeyfewr @ricefordays-blog1 @manipulatour

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elliewithcellie · 5 months ago

Text

Girl, Interrupted

summary: Eddie crashes by your home when you least expected, but everything happens for a reason, right?

wc: 1.8k

cw: PURE SMUT (MDNI 18+), basically no plot, friends to fwb?, oral (f receiving), Eddie is a tease, fairly bold reader lol, fingering, talk of p in v sex, hair pulling, orgasms idk let me know what else

a/n: my bestie bought me slutty pajamas for my birthday, and since I'm a hypothetical whore, this has been on my mind nonstop. Finally took a break from my spn series to write this down. This is the filthiest thing I've written to date but definitely short and sweet

Eddie’s jaw fell slack as the door opened before him. He knew he shouldn’t have shown up to your place uninvited. Sure, you were his best friend, and of course, you had said he could come over whenever, but that never truly meant unannounced. He was already kicking himself for showing up as late as he did when you opened the door.

Your oh so short pajama shorts were the first thing that caught his eye, how your thighs spilled out beneath them, the cotton begging for relief. His eyes trailed higher to your tank top one size too small. The hem rested just above your midriff, the outline of your hips more prominent than he had ever seen. Your face was flush, pinks and reds lining your cheeks. He fought the urge to pinch himself, scared that he was dreaming, scared that he’d wake up to the absence of you and very real feelings emerging.

“Eddie? What are you doing here?” you asked, your arms crossing over your chest. “I thought you had a date.”

Date, what date? Eddie’s mind was going numb. His brain was flatlining at the mere sight of you, more exposed to him than he’d ever seen you. Fight or flight kicked in, debating on whether to say something or just turn around and leave. He was almost sure he was not supposed to see you in this state.

“I—uhh—it didn’t go well, so I cut it short. But I know you love the place, so I figured I’d bring over the leftovers.”

“Oh, sweet. Thank you.”

Eddie hesitated, scared to ask, but his interest piqued. “Is someone—you’re alone right now, right?”

Your eyebrows pinched together. You exhaled a dry laugh. “Please, I’m always alone. Come in. Tell me about your date.”

You ushered Eddie inside and settled into your couch. You pulled a blanket over you, and Eddie released a sigh. He couldn’t believe the hold you suddenly had on him. It was like he was in high school again, ready to combust at the sight of a shoulder. At least with your legs covered, he was less inclined to think about spreading them.

“Was it really that bad?” you asked, drawing Eddie from his thoughts.

“She was just so boring,” Eddie complained. “Like, there’s nothing wrong with her, but it was like we were from different planets! She didn’t know Metallica! How am I supposed to bond with someone when there’s nothing to relate to?”

“Did you think of showing her?”

“Showing her what?”

“Metallica!” you laughed. “Wouldn’t that be kind of romantic, you know, to introduce that to her? Maybe tell her you’re in a band? It’d be like showing her a whole new world. And maybe you’d get a groupie out of it.”

Eddie swatted at the air. “It’s not worth it. We were both bored. And it was clear she wasn’t looking to rock with a guitarist.”

“Oh, I highly doubt that.”

“You didn’t meet her. She’s pristine, a Chrissy Cunningham type. Meant to be with a lawyer or some shit.”

You leaned in closer to Eddie, your blanket sliding down your thighs. “Those are the girls who fantasize about guys like you the most. Those girls on the straight and narrow, the ones who seemed destined to be sweet stay-at-home moms or perfect career women, those are the ones who dream of just one night doing something they never thought they could. Something so wild that when they’re taking their kids to soccer practice, or their ‘perfect husband’ is asleep on the recliner while they're doing the dishes, they can think back to that wild night when they fucked a rockstar.”

Eddie’s lip trembled as chills coursed through his body. You leaned back against the couch and shrugged like what you said was nothing. You had to be on something, he decided. Never had you been so frank when the topic of sex came up. Your face was still flushed with color, and you couldn’t seem to find a comfortable position on the couch, shifting yourself from one side to the other to no specific rhythm. Heat radiated off of you, though you weren’t known to be the furnace between the two of you. Something struck Eddie as so foreign but so familiar as he took you in.

“Would you fuck a rockstar?” Eddie found himself saying.

Heat rose to your cheeks. “Do I seem like one of those straight-and-narrow girls to you?”

“That’s not what I asked,” Eddie said, a newfound confidence overtaking him. “You came up with that way too fast to act like you don’t think of it, too. So, would you fuck a rockstar?”

You bit your lip and shifted in your seat. You huffed into the couch. “Wouldn’t anyone?”

“Why so shy all of a sudden?” Eddie asked, egging you on. “You’ve been squirming since I got here, sweetheart. Is something on your mind?”

Your eyes trailed from his eyes to his lips, then back to his eyes. “Tonight is not the night to ask me that.”

“Why is that?” Eddie chuckled. “Were you in the middle of something? Was something left unfinished when I so rudely interrupted? And now all you can think about is the ache between your legs?”

You shuddered at his words. “Eddie,” you said, your voice shaking.

“I could help you.” Eddie leaned closer, his words almost a whisper. “Because I may not be a rockstar, but I’m sure I could give you the night of your life.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. “Don’t tease me. It’s not funny.”

“No one’s laughing.” Eddie pulled the blanket back, his hands resting on your thighs. Your legs slightly opened on instinct. “What kind of friend would I be, huh? If I didn’t at least offer?”

Eddie didn’t know where this bravado came from, but he didn’t care. All he knew was the longer you looked at him like that, the harder he got.

You grabbed him by his shirt and forced his lips on yours. Nothing soft or sweet came from your lips. You were needy and desperate, clinging to him like he was the air in your lungs.

The urgency shocked Eddie, but he quickly found your rhythm. He smirked against your lips as he pulled his jacket off. His hands snaked from your thighs to your hips to your ass, lifting you onto his lap. You groaned into his mouth as he rolled you against him.

He was sure he was dreaming now. Only there did he ever picture you above him, grinding your hips into his. Only there did he imagine you moaning from his touch. But never were his dreams this vivid, this real, this fucking good.

He pulled you from him and pushed you back onto the couch. You whined at the loss of contact. He’d never seen your eyes so dark, so lustful, so hungry for him.

He slid down to the floor onto his knees and pulled you to the edge of the couch. “You still want my help, sweetheart?”

You nodded emphatically.

“I need to hear you, baby. Say it.”

“Please help me, Eddie. I need you. Please.”

“Atta girl.”

You lifted yourself up as Eddie pulled your shorts down your legs. Eddie’s cock jumped at the sight of you. He bit his lip to maintain what little composure he had left.

“Aww, your poor little pussy’s just as needy as you, isn’t she?” He spread your knees apart, the cold metal on his fingers sending chills up your spine. The throbbing between your legs only intensified, a small whimper escaping your lips.

Eddie couldn’t wait any longer. There was no time for teasing, no time to explore. You needed him, and he was going to deliver.

He dove into your aching pussy like a man starved. You jumped at the contact, your hands flying to his hair. His tongue worked overtime, kitten-licking your clit before diving in for more.

“You taste so good, sweetheart,” he said, smiling against you. You moaned in response, grabbing a fistful of his hair and pulling him closer.

Your sounds turned him on even more, searching for his own release as he rubbed himself against the couch. His mind was in a daze, in utter disbelief that anyone could look so perfect for him with your legs spread and your back arched. Your chest rose and fell to the rhythm of his tongue, and your lips formed a perfect ‘o’. Oh, how Eddie wanted to feel your lips around his cock. How you’d sink down on him, your perfect innocent mouth being completely sinful just for him.

He placed a finger at your entrance and pumped in and out, his thumb now circling your clit. Your head fell back. “God, yes, Eddie. Just like that.”

“I need you to do something for me, baby,” Eddie said as he added a second finger.

“Wha—what’s that?” you asked, breathless.

“I need you to tell me what you think of when you get off. Tell me what you were thinking of before I showed up at your door.”

“I—I oh god,” you shouted as Eddie’s lips found your clit. “I—I thought about you on your fucking date.”

“Oh fuck,” Eddie groaned into your pussy, the vibrations shooting up your spine.

“I pictured you fucking her from behind, her skirt hiked up to her hips, her panties to the side as you fucked her in front of the bathroom mirror.”

“Fucking C—Christ,” Eddie stuttered, his hips rutting into the couch faster. “Keep going.”

“Then it was me you were fucking. You grabbed me by the hair, so I could watch what you were doing to me,” you said, your voice shaking with every word. “Eddie, please. I’m close. Please.”

“Come on, baby. You can do it. Tell me what I was doing to you.” He was past dreaming at this point. He was sure this was heaven. Hearing your words had him reeling. He didn’t want to stop, didn't know how to stop. He just knew he needed to see you come.

Your lip trembled. “Your hands were all over me, playing with my tits, your lips on my neck, and—and your big cock pounding into me over and oh-ver and—and Fuck! Eddie, don’t stop! Please, please, please!”

Your orgasm crashed down on you, expletives and Eddie’s name on your lips. Eddie continued to pump his fingers in and out of you like a madman as he lapped up your cum.

“Oh god, oh fuck!” he moaned against you.

You pushed his head off of you and caught your breath. Eddie took a breath, too, leaning back against his heels. You pulled him back up to you and kissed him, tasting yourself on your lips.

“That… was so hot,” Eddie said, releasing a breath.

“Can it be my turn to help you?” you asked, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

Eddie’s cheeks rouged slightly, his eyes trailing to the growing wet spot on his jeans. “I had a turn already,” he said, guilt painting his words. He leaned in toward you, a devilish smirk joining his features. “But I’m not done with you. Not yet.”

#eddie munson smut #eddie stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader

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deebris · 7 months ago

Text

From annoying to beloved

Homelander x fem!Reader

Synopsis: The new member of the Seven annoys Captain Patria with their habit of doodling in the corners all the time, but he didn't expect to end up liking it.

During the fourth season, it can be read as both romantic and platonic.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of murder, the reader has the power to control plasma, fluffy.

The reader is also kind of anxious.

Word count: 2.9k

"You gotta be fucking kidding with me." Homelander interrupted abruptly upon hearing snores in the room. "Is Noir sleeping?"

"Mmhmm," Firecracker murmured in agreement, but the masked superhero jolted awake when The Deep kicked his chair.

"Oh, shit! Sorry, guys." Black Noir straightened up, while the Captain shook his head in disbelief, unable to fathom what he had just witnessed.

"Ah, what the fuck." The blonde furrowed his brows, eyes darting around the room quickly, then fixing on a specific point when something else caught his attention. He had noticed you earlier with a notebook and pencil, but now you're not writing but drawing. The irritating sound of the graphite scraping against the paper had been bothering him for some time, but he had tried to ignore it, assuming as a newcomer you were taking notes.

He wouldn't lie. Though he found taking notes utterly stupid, he liked to think someone was that focused on what he said. Not that he needed it, just opening his lips and everyone would be watching him. But as if that weren't enough, he finally realized you were dressed in regular civilian clothes.

"Radiance, where's your suit?" He asked slowly, but angrily. "Can't anyone do anything right around here?"

You finally tore your attention from the paper, meeting Homelander gaze directly. It's not that you weren't paying attention—in fact, you were, maybe more than anyone else there. It was easier to absorb things while doodling, a way to calm your nerves. Well, that or rubbing your sweaty fingers together until they hurt.

No one ever understood. Even back in school, your parents used to receive complaints about you drawing during class, no matter how high your grades were or the fact that you were the top student.

This was your first meeting with the Seven, and the last thing you wanted was to give the impression of being careless or not caring about being there. It could be said that one of the best days of your life was yesterday when Vought sent you a notice, letting you know that the greatest superhero of all had personally chosen you to join the team. After so many "retarded" - in his words - he had been forced to accept into the Seven, Homelander saw in you, above all, the opportunity to make up for Firecracker's ridiculous weakness.

When Ashley began talking about your powers, he had no doubt the last spot was yours. It was simply brilliant. Who the hell would have imagined someone would have powers to control a state of matter? You could maneuver fire, generate electrical discharges, disrupt magnetic fields, and damn it, you could split atoms as if slicing butter.

Vought's scientists said they didn't know if it was possible, but you could destroy the damn out of a star one day. Homelander wasn't a science guy, but in one of his moments of boredom, he got curious and did some research. He didn't even know that plasma crap was all that, he thought it was a cell thing or whatever.

He always thought someone with a power as peculiar as yours, and at your age, would be arrogant or just plain dumb. But you were actually the complete opposite. You didn't speak unnecessarily, and while you seemed very aware of your own actions, you had no clue how powerful you were, or perhaps ignored that fact. The blonde thought you were an idiot for it, but he appreciated the inferiority you submitted to, especially in relation to himself.

"I don't have one, sir," you replied to his question, feeling small with everyone looking.

"What the hell?" He continued, focusing on you with incredulous voice, he couldn't believe it. How did someone end up here without even having a superhero suit?

The truth was, you had never been part of any team before, nor had you received any sponsorship during your life, or even attended Godolkin University. The only thing you had were your powers, which were indeed impressive. You never chased after any position, nor were you ever obsessed with being a famous superheroine, but lately you thought it would be a good adventure to radicalize your life. That's when you applied to join the Seven.

"How do you have a name and not have a fucking suit?" He asked, boiling with anger, fists clenching tightly behind his back.

"They gave me a name when I filled out the application," you answered honestly. That day, after they chose to call you Radiance, a random and easily commercial name, you couldn't complain much and didn't want to bother, so you left it at that.

"You'll be introduced as an official member of the Seven tomorrow, how do you not have a suit?" He took his hands off his back, moving them as he spoke to express his confusion, and for a few moments you followed it movement like a child who can't keep their attention on anything for long. "Who's handling your marketing?"

You couldn't answer, so you stayed silent and no one else dared to say a word either. You had no idea who was handling your marketing, not knowing you should even have that. You glanced quickly around the table, perhaps seeking some kind of help for the situation, but everyone looked down when they realized you were staring at them. They were enjoying themselves, and that made you exhale through your nose in embarrassment.

"You know what? Fuck it, doesn't matter." Homelander brought his fingers to his furrowed forehead, letting out a loud sigh as he calmed down. "Just... don't show up like this in public until someone gives you a suit."

"Yes, sir," you replied tensely, relieved that he had resolved the matter.

Sister Sage widened her eyes in relief when she finally saw the superhero sitting beside her. She opened her mouth to begin speaking, as she had intended from the beginning, but when some sound was about to come out of her mouth, Homelander spoke to you again, this time pointing an accusatory finger at you:

"And stop drawing, damn it," he ordered, causing you to slowly drop the pencil on the table, as if caught doing something wrong with the weapon of the crime in hand. You stared at your lap throughout the entire meeting, embarrassed for messing everything up on your first day.

When the meeting ended, you followed most people out of the room, but stopped nearby in one of the hallways. You slid down the wall, crouching in a hidden corner, and lightly tapped the sketchbook against your forehead in annoyance.

"Stupid," you murmured softly to yourself. It was so ridiculous, yet it embarrassed you so much. Maybe this first day wasn't so bad after all. You would have plenty of time to prove your worth to everyone, no need to dwell on this situation. Even though you had been corrected in front of some of the most iconic supers by Homelander himself, this situation could be overcome. It was thinking about it that kept you from letting the burning tears fall.

"I can hear you whining," Homelander voice made you jump to your feet, startled to be caught once again doing something you shouldn't. He didn't seem happy, and his expression was so intimidating that you felt like Mariah Carey performing for a crowd of Eminem fans.

He approached you in slow steps and you held the sketchtebook protectively to your chest, as if that could protect you from something. He glanced down to briefly see the object in your hands and looked at you with disgust.

"If you don't straighten up, I'll kick you out. Got it?" Everything about him exuded threat. Maybe if he weren't so imposing and powerful, that sentence would have sounded a bit like the janitor from your old school scolding you for spending too much time in the bathroom during class.

You were paralyzed standing there and all you could do was a nod. But your gesture made him more aggressive.

"Answer with your mouth. Are you mute or something?" And there he was, hands behind his back again. He seemed to enjoy that pose.

"I won't mess up, sir," you said, swallowing your saliva.

"And get rid of that. Or burn it, do whatever, just get rid of it. And I better not see you with that again," he said referring to your notebook, walking away faster than before. "These kids..." you heard him mutter distantly.

After that happened, you didn't destroy the sketchtebook, but you were afraid of being caught and kept it safely tucked away in the back of a drawer in your room. What the eyes don't see, the heart doesn't feel, right? You mentally made a promise to yourself not to use it anywhere else but here, to avoid causing more trouble.

It's been a week since you've been with the Seven, and several strange things have happened. You quickly realized that Homelander wasn't the pristine and merciful hero everyone believed him to be. But the truth was that deep down you already expected that. Everything about heroes always seemed too perfect and pure, there had to be a catch. Despite everything, you still remained yourself, never intentionally hurting anyone or getting involved in murders and conspiracies.

You were comfortable helping out with some minor crimes that Vought sent you to solve, but by now you suspected that sooner or later Homelander would ask you to do some of his atrocities. It was still hard to think about how to feel about it, but you weren't naive, you were already mentally preparing to submit to it or else be killed.

During that time, as you adjusted and interacted with the team, it didn't go unnoticed by Homelander that you were drawing on your own hand, or on napkins and on random sheets you found lying around, even though you hadn't shown up with your sketchtebook again. This was starting to wear on his last nerve, but he tried to ignore it. As long stayed as you were, without asking too many questions and obedient, he made an effort to continue overlooking your makeshift drawings.

"Meeting's over," the blond suddenly declared, interrupting another of the Seven's weekly gatherings while cutting off The Deep's rambling about his ideas.

"But I haven't even talked about the flying shark yet," he tried to defend himself.

"Shut up," Homelander's voice rang out sternly in the room, issuing a warning that the man promptly obeyed.

"Right. Meeting's over." Ashley nervously moved to gather the portfolios on the new soda advertisement she had come to present, but as soon as she touched the first folder, specifically the A-Train one, the superhero exploded in rage:

"Ashley! Get out!" She immediately dropped the folder in place and hurried out in her heels, unable to run in them. "All of you! Get out of here."

Everyone got up from their chairs, even you, and filed out through the front door, leaving the folders on the table. Sister Sage hesitated, thinking she might be an exception, but when his scowl deepened, she understood she should leave too.

With the room empty, Captain Patria took a few minutes to admire the view from the tower. He enjoyed staring at it sometimes, even when bored.

"Bunch of idiots," he muttered to himself, shaking his head in denial, indignant. If he had to spend one more minute with these morons, he would have a heart attack, even though that was technically impossible for him.

He threw his cape back as he turned to leave, looking down and not focusing on anything in particular. But his eyes caught something different from the other folders. It was obviously yours, with a huge drawing covering the text and images printed on it.

That was the first time he actually saw something you had scribbled. And damn, it was perfect. It was a drawing of everyone in the room, with him in the center looking angry. Just as he was. His ego flared up as he noticed that his figure was more detailed than the others'. You must have started drawing him first, hence had more time to detail him. The idea of you making him the main focus of this particular drawing made his pupils dilate. He used his super hearing to check if anyone else was around and secretly took that sheet for himself.

The next time he saw you drawing in the Seven's room, he couldn't help but wonder if you were drawing him again. As soon as he noticed you sneakily reaching for a pen that belonged to Ashley, he looked in your direction. The noise that used to annoy him now sparked curiosity. And after staring at you for so long, it didn't take long for you to look back at him too. The blond thought you would be embarrassed, like most people, but you just grinned as if you were used to being caught looking. And indeed, you were.

You began drawing Homelander more frequently when you realized he never caught you watching him. It was easier and avoided awkward situations with other people. After two whole weeks of drawing him continuously while taking advantage of this freedom, you felt capable of drawing his face without even needing to see a photo, having memorized most of his distinctive features.

Well, it seems he's finally noticed you.

Sometimes, when alone in your room, you took out your sketchbook and started practicing the memory of his facial features you had developed. Just like every other time, you became absorbed in the drawing, focusing only on the voices around you to understand what was being said. This was also a way to keep yourself engaged during conversations, so you wouldn't get restless from being still while being a mere spectator of everything. After all, you never participated much or gave opinions; Deep already did enough for two.

The meeting had already ended, but you stayed in your chair, even as everyone else left, to finish just a part of the hair. You thought no one would mind, and then you would leave as usual, but a voice caught you by surprise:

"Can I take a look?" Homelander asked, for the first time, using a gentle voice beside you. His expression was enigmatic, somewhat relaxed, and shy at the same time.

You turned the stack of post-it notes, also taken from Ashley, for him to see what you had drawn, fearing what he would say. You weren't ashamed of drawing people, much less of them catching you doing it. You feared because he found your habit annoying.

He observed the drawing, seeing his posture from the side, upright and imposing. He wondered if you drew him exactly as you saw him, or if it was just another caricature of reality, like those Photoshopped pictures spread around. He looked much better than he imagined, though he had that superiority complex that made him see himself as a god.

For a moment, he was offended to see his image stamped on such despicable things as scraps of paper and these damn post-it notes. Your fingerprints were also visible stains, and the paper was slightly wrinkled from his sweat. He had noticed that sometimes you drew calmly, as if you had all the time in the world, and other times it was like drawing on a boat in a storm. Today seemed to be the latter situation.

"Do you like drawing me?" He glanced at you.

"I do," you shrugged. That was the simplest and most truthful answer you could give. "Sorry, I won't do it anymore," you said, thinking he was bothered by it.

"Why?" He ignored your apology.

"You're drawable... I guess," you stared at the table, not understanding the flow of the conversation.

"And what the fuck does that mean?" He asked in a louder voice, turning to face you, obviously confused. "Is this some artistic shit?"

"It's just that you're easy to draw because you have unusual characteristics. It's a good thing," was your answer, and it inflated his chest with narcissistic pride. Unusual, that's what you said, but to him, it was like being called extraordinary.

"Next time you draw me, try using a sketchbook," he said sternly, pretending to reject your work, but deep down, he just didn't want to show that he really liked it. That statement was his way of encouraging you to continue, but at the same time, it was so ironic, considering he got mad at you just when you were drawing him in the sketchtebook that day.

"But you asked me to get rid of mine," you said simply, your voice dwindling with each word of the sentence, not wanting him to find out that you had never thrown it away.

"I'll get you a new one," he said dismissively, taking the entire stack of post-it notes with him, including the drawing, as if you wouldn't notice.

#imagine #x reader #homelander #the boys season 4 #homelander x reader #the boys x reader #oneshot #the boys amazon #homelander x you #the boys s4 #homelander fanfiction #antony starr #antony starr x reader #the boys homelander #the boys the deep #sister sage

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krysmcscience · 7 months ago

Text

It’s finally done, guys – five whole pages of Narilamb AU comic AND MORE be upon you! (If you have trouble reading any of the text, view the full-size! These pages are huge!)

Yeesh, this took forever. <:)

There’s probably a ton of inconsistencies and anatomy/perspective wonkeries, but this was mostly just comic practice, so Oh Hekkin Well, Lol <:D

(Yes, I am aware the Gateway’s door isn’t present in the Afterlife, and the actual way in is just a pentagram portal. Yes, I put the door in there anyway because Artistic License, i.e. it felt more impactful for there to be a prison door of sorts to walk through to freedom, rather than just a bland boring portal on the ground. 😠)

anyway, i hate backgrounds so much lmao

Alternate ending and a buttload of bonus art under the cut, followed by goofy AU rambles and headcanon stuff:

I’m calling it the Revival AU. It’s not all that creative a title, and someone else has probably used it already, but I am too lazy to really care, LOL

Alternate ending page, which you will Definitely need to view the full-size for, Whoopsie Daisy:

The alternate ending was actually the first ending I finished things off with, because I had a brief badbrain moment where I forgot the emotional beat I initially wanted the comic to end on, and I tend to write comedy, anyway. I later remembered and drew out the proper ending, but I preserved and finished this one, too, because it still makes me giggle.

They had to go back for the followers off-screen in the AU’s real ending. And by ‘they’ I mean just the Lamb, because they weren’t about to ask three newly freed cats to go back into what used to be their prison. The Lamb DID spend some time watching Narinder and the bois enjoying the outdoors first, though:

In other news, here’s the Lamb and me making fun of my anatomy-drawing ‘skills’:

Meanwhile, if you’re wondering why the Lamb is just a-okay with how things went down vis a vis Their Murder, this bonus comic should answer at least some of your questions:

Ah, yes, also this is how they get engaged outside of the alternate ending. Forgot to mention that bit. XD (I already refuse to believe that Narinder is capable of flirting normally, so why would his initial marriage proposal be any better???)

Oh, and before any of them get a chance to actually head back to the cult grounds, there is one potential problem:

And by ‘problem’ I mean something Narinder intends to ignore for At Minimum a thousand years. Cuz he’s a petty bitch like that. :D

what do you mean i drew the lamb too tall compared to the background? clearly they’re standing on top of baal and aym lmao, why else would you think those two aren’t in this one??? (aym and baal got way too excited about finally being outside, you see, and their silly modes are nothing to sneeze at)

And, speaking of heading back to the cult grounds, I’m sure y’all would love to know how the Lamb’s followers felt about the brand new change in management:

It all went better than expected. <:D Tiny ramble now, feel free to skip down to the next comic.

Before you ask, no, the Lamb does not have any actual powers anymore, other than the immortality Narinder definitely grants them. The Red Crown just thinks it’s funny to suggest otherwise, and Narinder does nothing to discourage this. Also, the Lamb and Narinder aren’t actually married here yet, but, uh. Pretty safe to say that particular ritual directly follows the events of this comic. XD

Given how quickly he mellows out in canon, Narinder probably chills out a lot in this AU once he’s in charge of the cult, too, if only because 1.) He’s finally free, and 2.) He’s equally smitten with and distracted by the Lamb. He’s definitely in charge at least 95% of the time, though, because the Lamb never actually wanted to be a cult leader and, now that their time as a vessel is done, they just want to be a normal(ish) sheep who’s wholly devoted to their hot new divine husband.

Some followers do still have some valid concerns about these two being together, though, which I’m sure at least a few of you might share…

Unfortunately for any such concerns, the Lamb is a bonafide masochist in this AU. :D

They’re also 100% a sub, obviously

Anyone at all: Your relationship is problematic and potentially toxic

The Lamb: fuck yeah it is, it’s so hot~ OuO

Here’s just the last panel, made transparent for whatever nefarious purposes y’all might have for it:

Additional exchange Narinder and the Lamb have at some point, probably after the Lamb does a fatal whoopsie while out on a mission trip or in response to things getting a little too sadistic in the bedroom, ahaha:

Look, there is a very important distinction between life and death, and if you don’t understand that, then you’re probably not worthy of being the God of Death, anyway. (At least, according to Narinder, and ONLY Narinder.)

Last but not least, have these shittens:

~Such creative naming conventions I have utilized, lololol~ :D Anyway, there's a few deets on them in the rambles down below.

The rest is all ramble, so before I get to that, I’ll just say – likes and especially reblogs are very much appreciated!!! :D If you happen to really really REALLY like my stuff, meanwhile, I do have a link in my bio to my ko-fi page, where I’m accepting commissions and donations if you’re especially generous… ÓuÒ

Now, BE FREE IF YOU AIN’T DOWN FOR READING MY GOOFY RAMBLES

First ramble is re: Baal’s question of ‘Did it really work?’, since I didn’t feel like expanding on it in the comic proper, and it’s arguably pretty vague? He doesn’t ask because he doubts Narinder or his capabilities, exactly, but because neither Baal nor Aym have ever actually seen their god at full power before (he’s still technically not at full power here, either). It’s not expressly stated how soon the brothers were brought to Narinder after his imprisonment, but whether it was early on or after a length of time for Shamura to (somewhat) recover from his attack, he must have already been weakened, since I have no doubts that there was a huge battle that accompanied the Bishops working together to trap him. So, between that fight with all four of his siblings, sharing his power with a variety of vessels over time, and being chained immobile for a thousand years, he must have been severely weakened by the time he lent the Red Crown out to the Lamb, which would have only weakened him further.

I like to think this is how the Lamb is able to defeat him if they refuse to be sacrificed, despite how it took all four Bishops working together to subdue and chain Narinder in the first place.

All that aside, the three cats have been trapped in the Afterlife for so long that Baal also wanted verbal reassurance that they are all, indeed, actually able to leave it now – something that I headcanon isn’t possible without a significant amount of power (i.e. the Red Crown’s cooperation with its bearer/vessel).

(On a semi-related note, I don’t headcanon Aym and Baal as twins. I like sweetheart big bro Baal and snarky little goth bro Aym too much to have them be that close in age.)

Ah, teeny thing: If you noticed I switched up the art style for Narinder on the second page, that was intentional. It's sort of a visual indicator that there has been a Big Change for him - that being, how much power he has after sacrificing the Lamb. As for why I changed up his arms in the grass rollin' pic, I don't really subscribe to the notion that his arms are spooky bones because they're horrifically injured (beyond chain-chafing scars, that is), but rather just because he's the Bishop of Death, so he can change how normal-to-spooky they look at will. At some point I might doodle out how I imagine his appearance to range between least to most eldritch... 🤔

Next ramble, regarding Narinder’s feelings towards the Lamb...he was initially too focused on being freed from his imprisonment to form any real attachment to them. They were a tool for his use, first and foremost, but he did notice their intense devotion towards him. It was impossible not to notice, because the Lamb was always very happy to see him, even if it was because they died during a crusade (yet again). He wasn’t originally planning to revive them once he was freed, either, because he saw no real point to it – after all, they were already dead when they first met him, just as any other mortal would be when meeting him in the Afterlife, so death has very little real consequence in his eyes. But, once the chains were off, and it really sank in that he stood to lose the most devoted follower he’s ever had, he decided…why put their soul to rest for good or leave them stuck in the Afterlife when he could just as easily revive them again? And why not reward them for their hard work, anyway? Not only would it cost him nothing by comparison, but the future devotion that could come of it would surely make up for his (bare minimum) effort in reviving them.

He wasn’t expecting to get a full dose of that devotion and a smiling face so soon after killing them, though~ :3c (because the Lamb is a bonafide freak, and not-so-secretly into the fucked up power dynamics going on here, lol)

I should mention here that I am firmly of the belief that any non-god/vessel who crosses through the Gateway and into the Afterlife just straight up dies. So, Aym and Baal? Also straight up dead, from the second Shamura brought them through. Their souls were just never put to rest so that Narinder could have some company – if only according to Shamura. Narinder kept the two around mostly out of bewilderment, because honestly, who are these kittens, and what is Shamura’s game here, anyway??? They never even explained anything, they just tossed these kittens into the Afterlife and LEFT!!! At any rate, Aym and Baal being dead is how I explain why their souls apparently become lost in the void if they’re killed, along with the added complications required to revive the two because of it.

So, with those deets in mind, and given a bit of time, if Narinder hadn’t chosen to revive the Lamb, and also hadn’t chosen to put their soul to rest, they still would have woken up at some point, despite being as straight up dead as Aym and Baal. Who, don’t worry, were also properly revived while Narinder was waiting for the Lamb to wake up. Because I am also firmly of the belief that, first, the dead cannot leave the Afterlife without the use of a ritual/relic (and can't stay in the living world for long regardless), and second, dead followers’ devotion isn’t anywhere near as potent as that of the living, given how much more the living stand to lose.

Final ramble, regarding the Lamb’s feelings towards Narinder, and why they’re so devoted to him…

Well, you don’t spend most of your life on the run with your steadily-dwindling herd, trying to evade the ongoing genocide of your species, without becoming a little fucked up in the head. Maybe a lot fucked up in the head. Life is suffering, so might as well have fun with it, right? Maybe start finding death and pain to be kind of hilarious, even a little bit hot, once everyone you know and love is dead and gone, leaving you all alone? And maybe after that, there’s something comforting in how, despite the cold, cruel uncertainties of life, at least you can always count on the inevitability of death, patiently waiting for you until your very last breath? Who knows. Either way, as soon as the Lamb was killed, and they learned that the literal God of Death was offering them a second chance at life and vengeance via effective immortality, they were 100% ride-or-die-devoted all at once. Turns out death is kinder than life – go figure. (Of course, it helps that Narinder is 100% their type.)

They weren’t put off by Narinder’s thinly-veiled sadism or manipulations, either – they’re not too different in those regards, albeit opting for vastly different methods. It’s a very ‘two sides of the same coin’ sort of deal. In order to stay alive once they were made the last of their kind, the Lamb had no qualms with using others to their advantage, and that did not change once they were revived and expected to run a cult. They didn’t care for the position of authority, though – being a sheep and all, they’re much more of a follower than a leader, and thus greatly appreciated Narinder’s need for control. With how they had to keep on their toes for so long, the Lamb was also pretty good at reading people by the time they died, so they could recognize that a lot of Narinder’s posturing was just that – posturing. Dude’s 95% bluster and only 5% bite. He could obviously be vicious when he wanted or needed to (the Bishops' injuries were clear proof of that), but underneath his outer layer of cruelty was a generous layer of tsundere, and underneath all THAT was a soft squishy middle sibling velcro cat in desperate need of attention and affection.

(Which, for the record, he Did Not feel comfortable getting from Aym and Baal – Narinder still has no idea why the fuck Shamura sent them to him, beyond acting as keepers at best or trying to sabotage his attempts to escape at worst. Which, he thought HE sabotaged in turn, by guiding the kittens into being his devoted disciples instead. He thought he was very clever for it. ‘I outsmarted Shamura!’ he thought, despite that there was never anything there to outsmart. ‘What do you mean, Shamura sent your kittens to me for company?’ he demands of Forneus later. It may or may not lead him to pull Shamura out of Purgatory just so he can shake them and scream about how they should have Fucking Explained that!!!)

But, getting back on track as to why the Lamb was so willing to be sacrificed, I cannot stress this enough – if you pay even a minimal amount of attention to what he’s saying, Narinder is REALLY NOT SUBTLE about his intentions. ‘Death is of little consequence.’ ‘Followers are for you to use to your advantage.’ ‘Sacrifice a follower to absorb more power.’ So, yeah, the Lamb knew exactly what would be expected of them once the other Bishops were dead. They knew Narinder would expect them to die for him one last time. But, after all, death is of little consequence (not to mention hot), so when the time came, they wanted to see him freed, even if it meant oblivion for them in the end.

He’d given them a second life, and the ability to avenge their kin, and they felt indebted to him for that – so, while they were still pretty glum about the possibility that they might not get to see him free of his chains, nothing beyond their devotion and debt to him mattered. They never wanted all the drama and expectations that came with the Red Crown’s power, anyway, so, better for Narinder to have it back so that he could deal with it. What he did with the Lamb afterward would be up to him, and seeing as he was their god, they’d accept his decision gladly.

Were they in love with him by that point? Oh, obsessively so, but only in the devotional sense – romance was nowhere on their mind nor radar. That is, until he unexpectedly revived them again, told them he still needed them, and then offered down his hand to help them up.

The Lamb fell HARD for him in that moment. :3c

And now, a tiny shitten ramble. Lu and Li are twins, because sheep tend to have those a lot, and are conceived not long after the Lamb and Narinder’s marriage ceremony. Lu is the minutes older one, but Li is much more mature. I have put no further thought into these two, other than that they are utter menaces, birthed by the Lamb, cling hard to both their parents but especially Narinder (who spoils them rotten), and they are both genderfluid, using whichever pronouns/names they feel like at any given time. They are also both intersex, same as the Lamb, who was initially infertile up until Something Something Vague Magic, which I have also put no further thought into ¯\_(シ)_/¯

oh, and before anyone tries to suggest i headcanon this AU’s lamb as trending more female due to them giving birth or whatever, no, no, a thousand times no, they might have a vag, but they've also got a dick, and even if it's not as big as they'd like, they still know how to use it

Finally, the very tentative name for the Lamb in this AU is Yazdi, which is really just another name for the Baluchi breed of sheep XD (Not that the Lamb is this specific breed, I just didn’t like any of the other sheep-related names I found, ahaha...)

THAT’S ALL FOR NOW (collapses into an exhausted pile of goopy limbs)

#fanart #comics #cult of the lamb #cotl #narilamb #cotl lamb #cotl narinder #cotl shitten #cotl mystic seller #cotl aym #cotl baal #aym and baal #this is why i have been especially quiet lately XD #even just the bonus stuff took several days to finish because i don't know the meaning of DOODLE anymore apparently #everything must be fully inked and colored with backgrounds I Fukken Guess #at least using medibang's sumi brush keeps me from focusing on making my lines perfect :\#and yeah i copy-pasta'd a lot of my own backgrounds don't at me bro #if you're on desktop and want to full view but don't know how: right click the image - open in new tab - zoom in as needed :)#feel free to ask questions about the AU if you want - but uh - this is basically the extent to which i've thought it through LOL #edit: oh right - aym and baal really out there assuming narinder already put the lamb's soul to rest so the body's just fodder now lmao #last edit i hope: fixed the transparent cult certified freak image 8|#nope - one more edit: there is one (1) loophole for how living mortals can be in the afterlife without dying #that loophole is currently narinder XD #'sorry universe but the god of death says i can be in here so back off with your rules and regulations'

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hoshifighting · 8 months ago

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Ex Boyfriend! Seungcheol – Jealous! Seungcheol — Synopsis: Where after a company get-together, you meet your ex-boyfriend, who wants to make you jealous. He just doesn't expect that your friend Joshua is ready to help you too. — WC: 3.4k — WARNINGS: Smut, angst, overstimulation, spit as lube, clit stimulation, oral (f. receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, masturbation (m. and f. receiving), hair pulling, aftercare, eye contact, dirty talk and etc.

As you stepped into the office party, your heart raced.

You hadn't seen Seungcheol since the breakup, and you had been avoiding him whenever possible–like working in the home office for weeks. But now, you couldn't help but feel a mix of nerves as you spotted him across the room, surrounded by colleagues.

As you took a deep breath and plastered on a small smile, you noticed your friends Minji and Seokmin waving at you from a nearby table. You made your way over to them, grateful to have some familiar faces among the crowd.

"So good to see you!" Seokmin exclaimed, pulling you into a warm hug. "We were starting to think you wouldn't show up."

You huff and roll your eyes at Seokmin's remark, grumbling that you would rather be anywhere else. Seokmin and Minji exchange knowing glances as they catch sight of Seungcheol watching you from across the room.

Seokmin leans in, giving you a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. "He's still looking at you."

You grimace, trying to focus on your friends and the conversation at hand, but you can't help but feel his gaze burning into your back.

You continue chatting with your friends, but their constant glances over your shoulder start to draw your attention. Eventually, curiosity gets the better of you, and you ask them what's going on. However, they remain stubbornly silent.

Finally, you can't take it anymore and turn around to see what's caught their interest.

And there he is – Seungcheol, dancing with Eunji on the dance floor.

Your friends wait for your reaction, but they weren't expecting the sound of your laughter to echo through the room.

You chuckle to yourself, finding the situation utterly ridiculous and amusing. Your friends exchange glances, not quite sure how to respond to your sudden outburst.

"Did you just laugh?" Seokmin asks in disbelief.

Minji looks shocked at your reaction, wondering if you've lost your sanity or if this is all some elaborate joke.

As you continue laughing uncontrollably, you manage to sputter out a revelation between giggles.

"Guys," you whisper to Seokmin and Minji, "Eunji likes girls. Remember when she tried to ask me out?"

Minji and Seokmin exchange disbelieving glances, their jaws dropping open. "Wait, what?" Seokmin stutters.

You nod, wiping tears of laughter from your eyes. "Yep. She asked me out once, and I had to turn her down because I was with Seungcheol - secretly, of course."

You chuckle to yourself, realizing that Eunji isn't interested in Seungcheol at all.

As you laugh and share the joke with Seokmin and Minji, you feel a gentle touch on your shoulder. You turn around to find Joshua standing there, a curious smile on his face.

"What's so funny?" he asks, genuinely curious about the laughter coming from your small group.

As you try to stifle your laughter, a mischievous idea suddenly sparks to life in your mind, like a light bulb flickering to life. You look up at Joshua, a hint of playful glint in your eyes.

Joshua quirks an eyebrow, but before he can inquire further, you chime in with a question of your own.

"Hey, how come you're not dancing with anyone? Got any secret dance moves tucked up your sleeves?"

Joshua grins and stretches out his hand to lead you to the dance floor. You share a knowing wink with Seokmin and Minji, who smile incredulously, sensing the potential entertainment ahead.

As you accept his offer and step onto the dance floor, the music envelops you, and your bodies effortlessly start to move in sync.

Joshua leans in, a mischievous smile on his lips, and whispers, "I know what you're up to. Are you making Seungcheol jealous?"

"Do you intend to be my partner in crime for the night?" You ask sly.

"I'm all in." he assures you while chuckling. "I'll not only play along, but I'll even offer to take you home."

As you and Joshua lean in close together, discussing your plan, Seungcheol can't help but notice your proximity. The sight fuels his jealousy, and his fingernails dig into his palms, a subtle sign of his frustration.

As the night progressed, you found yourself at the bar, nursing a drink and enjoying the company of Joshua. The alcohol loosens your inhibitions, and you relish in the newfound friendship. Meanwhile, Seungcheol, consumed by jealousy, ignores the colleagues attempting to engage him in conversation, his gaze occasionally flicking towards you and Joshua.

As you follow Joshua towards the garage, you can feel Seungcheol's gaze burning into your back. He watches you both step into the grey car, and his resentment simmers beneath the surface. Every detail, from the grey car to your black dress, infuriates him. He clenches his fists tightly, hating everything about the situation, but most of all, he blames himself for letting you go.

As Seungcheol's mind raced with worry and speculation, he tormenting himself with the possibilities of what you were doing in that car with Joshua. Were you at the other man's home, or were you in the familiar surroundings of the home he knew so well? Had you kissed him, or even more?

The thought of it all drove him mad, and he could do nothing but pace around, trying to find a way to calm himself down and think straight.

Despite Seungcheol's torturous thoughts, the reality was much more mundane. After dancing and drinking together all night, Joshua had kindly offered to take you home. He left you off safely at your doorstep, and you went to bed with a blissfully empty head.

As you sat on the couch the next morning, sipping your cup of tea and idly watching a show on TV, you heard a sharp knock at the door.

Surprised, you set down your tea and padded barefoot towards the door. As you swung it open, your breath caught in your throat.

Standing there, looking disheveled and tired, was Seungcheol. His hair was tousled, and his eyes bore a look of exhaustion, but there was something different about him now. This time, he wasn't here with a box in hand. Instead, his gaze was fixed on you, intense and full of unspoken words.

As Seungcheol stepped into your home, his fingers firmly grasping your shoulder, he subjected you to a silent analysis. His eyes skimmed over your appearance, taking in the absence of hickeys on your neck, the tangle-free state of your hair, and the adorable pajama set decorated with cats – a favorite of yours when you slept alone.

"Where's he?" Seungcheol's question hung in the air.

You cross your arms, arching an eyebrow and responding with a question of your own "What are you doing here, Seungcheol?" He shuts the door behind him as you await his answer.

Seungcheol takes a breath, his gaze never wavering from your face. "Do you have any idea what you put me through last night?" he asks, his voice low. "Did you even consider for a moment how I felt watching you with Joshua all night?"

"Did you even consider for a moment how I felt watching you with Eunji all night?" You repeat.

You felt nothing more than pity that his little theatrics had lost its appeal too soon for you.

Seungcheol scoffs. "You're throwing that back at me? Really?" he says, his voice tinged with disbelief.

Despite your nonchalant manner, there was a hint of satisfaction in your eyes, knowing your performance had been more authentic than his.

His face twists into a frown, realizing that his attempt to make you jealous had backfired. "I watched you all night, seeing you dancing with Joshua. I thought –“ he starts, but you cut him off.

"What did you think?" you ask, your voice cold. "That I would come running back to you like a loyal dog? That I'd be so devastated by your display with Eunji that I'd run back into your arms?"

"You're different." The raw emotion in his voice catches you off guard, making you wonder what he meant. He continues, "Last time, you cried and clung to me, begging me not to leave you, but now... now, you're standing here, cold and indifferent, like you never loved me at all." "I don't understand," he murmurs. "How can you be so cold... so detached, after everything we had?"

"Everything we had?" you echo, a hint of disbelief in your voice. "Seungcheol, at some point, you'd rather hole up in your office all day than be with me."

"I broke up with you because I thought it would be better for you," he admits softly. "I couldn't provide you with the attention and time you deserved, and I thought ending it was the right thing to do."

A hint of irritation creeps into your voice as you reply, "And now you're here because I was enjoying myself with someone else?"

"Enjoying with... Someone else." His eyes darken, and you can see the flicker of possessive anger sparking within him at the mere mention of your time with someone else.

"Did you come here just because you can't handle the idea of me fucking with Joshua?"

The words have barely left your lips when he suddenly slams your body against the wall, his hot breath mingling with yours as his lips hover barely an inch from yours.

Seungcheol's breath is uneven as he speaks, his voice a low, husky tone. "I... couldn't bear the thought of you doing that–" he admits, his fingers curling fiercely into the fabric of your clothes. "with him."

The words trail off as he can no longer resist the magnetic pull between you, and he closes the gap, his lips capturing yours in a hot, desperate kiss.

Seungcheol deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth hungrily, as if trying to make up for lost time. He missed every inch of you, from the taste of your lips to the way you sighed in his arms.

Even the familiar scent of your house and the sound of your voice sent jolts of longing and nostalgia coursing through him. He needed to experience all of you, every aspect he'd been craving for so long.

Seungcheol swiftly bends you over the arm of the sofa, the urgency in his actions evident. You can hear the sound of his belt being undone, the click of the buckle echoing through the room. His movements are rough and impatient, consumed by the overpowering desire he feels for you.

He yanks down your shorts and panties in one swift motion, the fabric pooling on the ground. You hear him spit, the warm line of saliva landing on your pussy, making you squirm. Seungcheol's grip on your arm tightens as he holds it behind your back, keeping you in place.

"Stay still," he commands, his voice low and authoritative.

You can feel his cock, thick and hard, pressing against your entrance. The anticipation is almost unbearable as he lines himself up with you, his breath ragged with need.

Without any more warning, Seungcheol thrusts into you, filling you completely in one swift motion. The stretch is intense, and you can't help but gasp, your fingers digging into the arm of the sofa. His cock feels impossibly thick inside you, every inch of him stretching you deliciously.

"Fuck, you're so tight," Seungcheol groans, his voice laced with pleasure.

He begins to move, each thrust deep and powerful, hitting you in all the right places. The sound of skin slapping against skin, and the moisty sounds of your wet cunt, fills the room, mingling with your gasps and his moans. His free hand slides down your body, finding your clit and rubbing it in tight circles.

In that position, you could feel Seungcheol hitting that sweet spot again and again. The angle was perfect, and each thrust made you see stars. You sobbed against the couch, overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensations coursing through your body.

Seungcheol's lips brushed against your ear, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. "I always find it, don't I?" he brags, each word punctuated by a powerful thrust. "Doesn't matter the time, the position... I always find it."

You can only respond with strangled moans. Every single thrust is so sharp, so deep, you feel like you're being split in half. Your walls clench around him involuntarily, heightening the sensation for both of you.

"Fuck, fuck," you stutter, your voice barely more than a whimper. "fuck this pussy... ughh, it's so good, please don't stop!"

Seungcheol pulls you by your hair, making you moan through gritted teeth. His chest presses against your back, the position making it difficult for you to moan loudly. His other hand flickers over your clit, his fingers moving so fast that your mind goes blank. Your legs quiver pathetically, unable to handle the overwhelming pleasure.

The intensity of his touch, combined with the relentless thrusting, sends you spiraling into anr orgasm. Your body convulses with pleasure, your walls clamping down around him as you scream his name. Seungcheol groans, feeling your tightness increase, driving him to the edge.

"That's it," he growls in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "Cum for me. I want to feel you creaming around this cock."

And you do. You lose yourself in the sensation, your body shaking uncontrollably as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you.

Seungcheol wasn’t done with you yet. Just as you thought you couldn’t handle any more, he flipped you around. Your hips rested on the arm of the sofa while your upper body collapsed onto the cushions, leaving you in an awkward, yet perfect position for him. He knelt down, his face level with your dripping core.

You screamed from the sensitivity, your legs instinctively trying to close around his head. But Seungcheol held you still, his grip firm and unyielding. His mouth latched onto your clit greedily, sucking and licking with fervor. The sensation was overwhelming, your body convulsing with each flick of his tongue.

“Seungcheol, please,” you whimpered, the overstimulation making you tremble. Your legs quivered, desperate to close, but his strong hands kept them apart.

He was relentless, his tongue swirling under the hood of your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through your entire body. You arched your back, pushing your hips against his mouth, needing more even as you felt like you were about to break.

His mouth was sloppy and wet, every movement precise and determined. You clenched around nothing, your body aching to be filled again, but he was focused on driving you over the edge with just his mouth. The intensity was too much, and you felt another orgasm building quickly.

“Fuck, Seungcheol,” you cried out, your voice trembling with desperation. "G-good! Yes, yes, yes!"

He didn’t stop. He continued to devour you, his tongue working magic on your sensitive clit. Your cries grew louder, your body shaking uncontrollably as the pleasure became too much to bear. You were completely at his mercy, lost in the sensations he was giving you.

With a final, powerful suck, you shattered. Your body convulsed, a scream ripping from your throat as you came hard, your legs clamping around his head despite his attempts to hold them still. Seungcheol drank you in, his tongue never slowing, drawing out every last wave of your orgasm until you were left trembling and breathless.

Finally, he pulled back, his lips and chin glistening with your arousal.

Seungcheol moved, positioning himself above you, his heavy cock resting on your belly. The weight of it making you gasp, anticipation bubbling up inside you. He began to stroke himself, his hand moving up and down his slick, creamy shaft. The wet noises filled the room, mingling with the sounds of your heavy breathing.

“Look at me,” he commanded, his voice rough with desire. You obeyed, your eyes locking onto his. The intensity in his gaze was almost too much to bear, but you held it, watching every move he made.

His eyebrows furrowed as he continued to touch himself, his hand moving faster. His mouth opened, releasing the filthiest moans you’d ever heard, each one sending a jolt of heat straight to your core. You could see the raw pleasure on his face, the way his body tensed and relaxed with each stroke.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he muttered, his voice strained. “Just like that. Keep looking at me.”

You did, your eyes never leaving his, even as your body trembled with the aftershocks of your orgasm. The sight of him, so lost in his own pleasure, was almost enough to push you over the edge again. You could see every detail – the way his muscles tightened, the way his cock pulsed in his hand, the way his mouth fell open as he moaned your name.

His hand moved faster, the sounds growing louder, wetter. You could feel his cock twitching against your skin, and you knew he was close. The sight of him, so vulnerable and raw, was almost too much to bear. You watched as his eyes fluttered closed for a moment, a low, guttural moan escaping his lips.

His moans grew louder, more desperate, and you could see the moment he reached his peak. His body tensed, his hand moving erratically as he came, thick ropes of cum spilling onto your belly. His eyes never left yours, the connection between you intense and unbroken.

Seungcheol's eyes fluttered closed as he stood still, his chest heaving as he regulated his breath. You watched him, feeling the warmth and intimacy of the moment settle over you like a soft blanket. After a few moments, he opened his eyes and looked at you with a tender, almost reverent expression.

Gently, he reached out and lifted you, his strong arms cradling you as if you were the most precious thing in the world. He adjusted your position, making sure you were comfortable before he began to carry you towards the bathroom.

"Let's get you cleaned up," he murmured, his voice soft and soothing. He always insisted on aftercare, claiming it was essential, and you couldn’t agree more. It was these moments of tenderness and care that made you feel cherished and safe.

As he carried you, you nestled your head against his shoulder, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a comforting lullaby. The bathroom light flickered on, casting a warm glow over the room. Seungcheol set you down gently on the edge of the bathtub, his hands lingering on your skin for a moment longer than necessary, as if reluctant to let go.

He turned on the tap, adjusting the water temperature before filling a soft washcloth with warm, soapy water. Kneeling in front of you, he began to clean you with gentle, meticulous care, his touch light and reassuring. The warm water and his soothing touch eased the lingering tension from your body, leaving you feeling relaxed and cared for.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort.

"I'm okay," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "More than okay."

He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Good."

As he continued to clean you, his movements were slow and deliberate, each stroke of the washcloth a reminder of how much he cared for you. When he was satisfied that you were clean, he helped you into a soft, fluffy towel, wrapping it around you with the same tender care he had shown throughout.

Seungcheol then quickly cleaned himself up before guiding you back to the bedroom. He pulled back the covers and helped you into bed, tucking the blanket around you before sliding in beside you. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

As you lay in Seungcheol's arms, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back, you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you. Despite the events of the evening, you felt safe and loved in his embrace, and for now, that was enough.

You murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper, "We'll talk when we wake up, okay?"

Seungcheol tightened his arms around you, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. "Okay," he agreed, his voice filled with understanding.

With that silent agreement, you both drifted off to sleep, the warmth and comfort of each other's presence lulling you into a peaceful slumber.

However, as the afternoon grows, the sounds from the city echoes, disturbing the quiet stillness of the room, your phone buzzes softly on the bedside table, jolting you awake. You reached for it groggily, blinking away the remnants of sleep as you squinted at the screen.

It was a message from Joshua.

"Did it work?" he asked, his words tinged with curiosity.

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you typed out your response.

"It worked."

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chososcutie · 3 months ago

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“Call Me”

featuring satoru gojo and suguru geto ♰.𖥔 ݁ ˖🔪

── ⋆˙⟡⋅☏. ₊˚ ☎︎⋆˙⟡⋅ ── ⋆˙⟡⋅☏. ₊˚ ☎︎⋆˙⟡⋅ ── ⋆˙

art credit: @aransmind (plsss check them out their art is so.. (っ´ω`c)♡

── ⋆˙⟡⋅☏. ₊˚ ☎︎⋆˙⟡⋅ ── ⋆˙⟡⋅☏. ₊˚ ☎︎⋆˙⟡⋅ ── ⋆˙

I needed to write a fanfic w these fanarts before halloween is over, so pls take this jjk oneshot ik its not my usual content but (♡﹃♡)

tags: squirting, overstim, knifeplay, threesome, oral (fem!recieving), masturbation, teasing, spitting, edging, degrading, cock piercing, unprotected sex, double penetration, creampie, etc etc

word count: 2.7k of straight filth

100 FOLLOWER SPECIAL!!! i love and appreciate every single one of u bakas, and im so grateful you guys enjoy my writing you all mean the world to me :3

⋆˙⟡⋅☠︎︎☏𓌪₊˚⁺——— ⋆˙⟡⋅☠︎︎☏𓌪₊˚⁺ ——— ⋆˙⟡⋅☠︎︎☏𓌪₊

It was Halloween night, and you had been sprawled across the couch, idly watching Halloweentown, and going back and forth to the door to give out candies to trick-or-treaters when you heard it.

Riiing! Riiing!

Your phone lit up with an incoming call from an unknown number, which was unusual at this time. Confused, you press accept, holding it up to your ear.

"You hang up, and you die darling."

Rather than being frightened of the threat however, you laugh.

"Suguru, I know it's you."

Your two best friends, Satoru and Suguru, were always doing dumb shit like this, pranking you at any given opportunity, and you knew that this time was surely no different.

In an act of defiance, and maybe just to see what would happen, you brush off his warning and hang up, the dial tone signifying the end of the call.

The second you do however, you hear two ominous knocks ring out through the stillness of the night.

Startled, your head turns toward the door, feeling a hint of fear and.. something else, for the first but certainly not the last time that night.

Standing up, you hesitantly walk over to open the door, unsure what awaited you.

It swings open to reveal a Satoru dressed in a complete Ghostface costume, mask and everything, holding a knife in one hand.

You gasp softly as he begins to stalk toward you, placing his hands on either side of your hips and pushing you back onto the couch you were just on.

Your phone begins ringing again, and he simply stares at you, breathing softly as you reach for it, picking it up a little shakily.

"Hello?"

"What did I say doll?"

Your breathing slightly picks up as you listen, Satoru standing motionless before you.

"Now, since you decided to disobey me, our little friend over here is going to have to do something about that, hm?"

You gasp as in one fluid motion, Satoru has you pinned, the heat of his body pressed firmly against yours making your heart rate increase.

The hand that's holding the prop knife lifts to brush against your cheek, and it's then that you realize it's real, the cool tip of the metal making you shiver as he lightly draws it down your jaw.

He keeps going, past your neck and between the valley of your breasts, until it's grazing just in between your thighs, where the wetness of your arousal is rapidly pooling.

You bite back a whine as he ever so slightly brushes the very tip of the knife up and down the seam of your panties, having only put on a baggy t-shirt prior to this, expecting a cozy night in.

It's dangerous, and you know with one wrong movement, the knife could nick the most sensitive part of you, but it just felt so good.

With skilled fingers, Satoru's hand holding the knife comes to the strap of your lacy black panties, gently tugging it down using only the tip, and dragging it off your body to reveal your glistening pussy.

His head tilts, the hollow black eyes and stretched mouth of his mask seeming to stare at you tauntingly.

"Touch yourself." Geto's heated voice over the phone demands, and you inhale sharply as Satoru draws back expectantly.

Embarrassment flushes your cheeks at the prospect of being intimate with yourself in front of your two best friends, but that quickly fades when Satoru's knife warningly grazes your thigh, urging you to hurry.

You bite your lip nervously, reaching one hand in between your thighs to circle your sopping wet cunt, your fingers gliding easily across your slickness.

You hear Satoru inhale, and spurred on, you continue, adding a finger into your entrance and beginning to slowly pump it in and out, biting back a moan.

The obscene sounds of your cunt squelching become the only sound in the room, and your back arches as you lose yourself in the pleasure, eyes fluttering shut and forgetting about the fact that both Satoru and Suguru were still very much there.

As your pace increases, and you add a finger to rub your clit in unison, you can feel yourself getting closer, whimpering softly as your stomach tightens and coils. You spread your legs wider, orgasm so close you can practically taste it as you prepare for the whiteness of pleasure to overwhelm you and explode behind your eyelids and... it stops.

Your eyes fly open as Satoru's muscular arms pin your wrists together and hold them firmly over your head, leaving your cunt to throb desperately from the loss.

"You don't get to come yet, pretty." Geto's voice.

"Not with how rudely you hung up on us earlier."

You whine softly in protest, trying to arch your hips up but Satoru is quick to stop you, pinning your body to the couch.

"Please I-I'm sorry, I thought it was a prank!"

You break off into a sudden moan as Satoru's fingers come to cup your dripping pussy, long fingers spreading across you.

His other hand raises to lift the Ghostface mask off his head, revealing messy white hair sticking up in all directions, and hazy blue eyes wild and frantic-looking. "Fuck.. need to.."

Before you can even react, he drags you toward him, and buries his face between your thighs, inhaling deeply as his tongue instantly flicks out to taste you.

"Here's what's going to happen, doll. If you can manage to hold off, and not come within a certain period of time, we'll reward you. If you do come, well..." His voice breaks off, and you can practically hear the smirk on his face.

You open your mouth to respond but only small whines and moans manage to come out as Satoru settles into a more comfortable position, busying himself between your legs as his nose bumps your clit.

"Fuck!" Not wanting to anger Suguru more than you already have, you grab a fistful of Satoru's snowy white locks intending to pull him off of you, but your body betrays you and you end up only pulling him closer until his whole face is pressed right against your throbbing pussy.

You knew at this rate you weren't going to last, especially with how close you already were from earlier, and desperately, your hips twitch upward, soft pleas and moans for him to slow down proving fruitless.

He begins kitten-licking your cunt gently, and your legs tighten slightly around his head as you focus on something, anything other than the man between your spread thighs, trying your best to hold off as long as you can.

"How's that feel?" The deep purr of Suguru's voice snaps you out of your haze as you remember you're still on the phone with him, and you glance over quickly, flushed.

"Ah i-it.."

Ever eager for your attention, Satoru takes your sensitive clit into his mouth and sucks, and it's all over.

Your thighs clamp around his head tightly, and you feel him groan as you come hard, drenching his face in your sweet slick, eyes rolling back in your head, slutty moans of his name spilling out of you as white-hot pleasure consumes you.

Just then, the creak of the door opening cuts into your haze, and with a jolt, you see Suguru dressed in a similar get-up, his mask tilted up on his head to reveal the glinting piercings on his smirking lips, phone in hand.

"Well, well, well."

He shuts the door with his foot, coming over to the couch you're splayed across to coo at you softly, one large hand coming to slip under your shirt, and squeeze your breast firmly, causing you to whimper in response.

Satoru's still lapping up the remnants of your essence, lifting his head to gaze at you almost adoringly. "She's s' sweet, 'sugu."

He chuckles in response. "I bet she is. Though she still is a disobedient little whore, and one who can't seem to learn her lesson, at that."

Your breathing is shallow as your eyes flick between the two, unsure of what's going to happen next now that you hadn't listened to Suguru.

He leans close to you, lips almost brushing yours as he pauses just a few millimeters away. "Since you like to be a little slut, we're just going to have to treat you like one."

With that being his only warning, he nods to Satoru who quickly stands up from the couch to start undressing, the black velvety fabric of his costume falling to the floor in a pile.

Suguru does the same, revealing toned, muscular thighs and rippling abs, his muscles flexing and tightening as he steps out of his costume.

Next to go are their boxers, revealing two, very impressive cocks, both hard with pearly pre-cum beading from their slits.

You take a moment to ogle them for a moment, never expecting your two best friends to have such pretty dicks.

Satoru's is so long, longer than Suguru's, and sticks up straight in the air, flushed a pale pink and coming to a perfect pointed Cupid's arrow at the top, veins running all along it.

Suguru, on the other hand, is not as long but he's thick. So thick in fact, you don't think you can fit your hand all the way around him. The tip is a dark reddish hue, and what most draws your eye to him is the presence of piercings. Three, to be exact, all leading up to the thick, mushroom head of his cock, leaking pre-cum all over his stomach.

He nods again at Satoru, and they both put the masks back on, leaving two naked Ghostfaces in front of you.

Your breathing increases, this being a fantasy straight out of one of your wet dreams, but before you can speak, Suguru's large hands come to grip tightly on your hips, flipping you over roughly onto all fours.

Your cheeks heat up, and you whimper softly, hearing shuffling behind you as they move into position.

One of their hands comes to smooth over the curve of your ass, as they line up their cock to your entrance, gliding the tip over your slick folds as lubricant. "Ready, love?"

Satoru's voice. You nod, and he immediately pushes in, stretching you as he tries to fit all of him into you.

You cry out softly as you feel him deeper than anyone has ever gone before, but he shushes you gently, bending down to whisper softly into your ear, "It's not even halfway in, love."

Choked whines and moans pour out from you as, inch by inch he slowly sheathes himself deep inside, your cunt tightening and rippling around him adjustingly.

Before you can get a chance to recover however, you feel another thick, spongy tip prodding at you. Suguru.

"Fuck 'sugu!.. mnngh.. 's not gonna fit!" You desperately try to move, but only succeed in sucking Satoru even further in, making him groan into your ear, shifting to make more room for Suguru.

" 's okay, baby. Jus'.. fuck.. let us do all the work." He begins to slowly slide himself in, you desperately scrabbling for purchase on the couch as he stuffs you even fuller.

You feel the cold metal of his piercings brushing your walls, and let out a broken wail as you desperately try to hold yourself up, your legs already shaking.

When he slowly continues to push into you, the seconds seeming to stretch on painfully, you instinctively try to crawl up the couch, but Satoru is quick to pull you back by the hips, slamming Suguru's cock into you fully as he pulls you even further against them.

Suguru gifts you a sharp smack! on the ass, growling as his voice turns slightly breathier. "Don't run from us now, doll."

You're so full at this point, you can barely breath, able to feel them all the way in your stomach, tears filling your lash line as you desperately try to accommodate both of them.

Roughly, Suguru suddenly pushes you forward, your face squishing into the cushion as he lifts your ass higher, your back arching instinctively.

They both groan at the lewd sight, your abused, stuffed cunt on full display for them to see and use as they please, slick dribbling down between your thighs as muffled moans spill out of you.

"G'na move now, mmkay?" Suguru's husky voice sounds above you, and you can hear Satoru struggling for breath as he slightly pushes his hips forward.

You take a deep breath to prepare yourself, but all the air leaves you in a soft huff as they begin thrusting into you, perfectly synchronized with each other, the rough metal of Suguru's cock catching on your tight walls.

"Fuck I- nngh.. t'much t'much!" You can barely breathe with both of their pulsing cocks steadily rocking into you, drool seeping into the cushion below you as your eyes flutter and roll back, your ass arching higher.

"You can take it, baby." Satoru practically whines out, the rich soft grunts spilling from Suguru in your ear causing your pussy to clamp desperately around both of them, hisses and soft curses sounding from behind you.

Your sweet whines and whimpers become progressively louder and louder as the room fills with the harsh smacking sound of skin against skin, and Suguru grabs a fistful of your hair, lifting your head up to cover your mouth with his hand, your teeth instantly sinking into his palm as tears spill down your cheeks freely.

You can feel your stomach tightening as they continue plunging into you relentlessly, Satoru whimpering pathetically as Suguru's thick, veiny cock grinds against his own, throbbing faintly inside you.

"S'fucking good. Why didn't we do this sooner?" Suguru grunts out, either to you or Satoru, you don't know as the only thing you can do is whine, pushing back on them slightly as warmth builds in your tummy.

One of Satoru's hands snake around you to rub your clit in unison with the harsh thrusts they're delivering, your mouth falling slack open from the sheer pleasure of it all.

As Satoru continues pressing against your throbbing clit, Suguru begins to roughly grope your breasts, squeezing and pinching tightly before moving down to your stomach to press against the bulge that disappears and reappears with every thrust.

Your climax now rapidly approaching, you turn your head over your shoulder to look at them, which turns out to be a huge mistake because what you see resembles something straight out of a porno.

Suguru has his head tilted back, hips languidly thrusting in and out, his mask slipping downward slightly to reveal long black hair fanning out messily around his shoulders. Satoru is a whiny, pathetic mess, his mask not being able to conceal how flustered and needy he looks as his hips piston in and out, shamelessly rubbing himself against Suguru's dick for more friction as his pale chest heaves up and down with every breath.

Before you even realize what's happening, you're coming, a muffled whine leaving your throat as your orgasm crests and crashes over you, a thin glistening geyser gushing out of you and covering both their cocks and chest as you squirt, not even realizing as your body falls forward, slumping onto the couch.

"Fuck baby, did you jus'..." Satoru can't hold back anymore after the lewd display you just gave, and comes with a groan, spilling himself deep into your velvety walls.

Suguru follows close behind, a milky white ring forming around his base from just how much cum he's pumping into you, hips stuttering erratically.

They both collapse on top of you, the weight of their bodies against yours comforting as you all gasp for breath together, sticky bodies sliding along each other, them pulling their masks off to reveal mussed hair and sweaty, flushed faces.

After a few moments of coming down from their highs, they both pull their softening cocks out, leaving your sticky, sweat-sheened body to heave for breath, desperately needing a reprieve.

But, you don't get a chance, as Suguru suddenly flips you back over, and spreads your legs wide, spitting a warm glob of saliva onto your sensitive, ruined cunt still seeping all the cum they had just filled you with mere moments ago.

You twitch, overstimulated and trying to turn away, but he just holds you down by the hips as Satoru crawls closer, his head bending down close, warm breath fanning over your poor pussy, and soft white hair brushing against your inner thighs.

"Come on baby, you haven't given us our Halloween treat yet."

611 notes · View notes

unformula1 · 8 months ago

Note

Hii! Saw your request for requests. Can we have something with Reader meeting a driver unexpectedly while shopping it partying or working out, whatever and neither one realises the other is a celebrity until they mention it to their friends or coworkers

who…? (OP81 x gn!Reader)

you meet oscar while shopping for clothes, neither of you recognise each other, much to the dismay of your friends. w/c: 936 a/n: hi! if you want any other driver please dont be afraid to ask!!! (masterlist) TW: cluelessness, a few uses of y/n (and one use of y/n_l/n)

Your fingers glide through the row of neatly hung shirts. You stay focused on the shirts, not really caring about anyone else in your surroundings.

As your sights land on a black graphic tee, you place one hand on the shirt and abruptly stop in your tracks. Before anything else can happen, someone walks directly into you, causing you to stumble back.

You curse under your breath but look up and sheepishly apologise to the man.

“Sorry-” He says first, with a thick Australian accent no one could miss.

With one hand still on the graphic tee, you nod subtly and apologise.

The man’s eyes are glued on the shirt which you have your hands on.

One of his hands slides up to the back of his neck as he rubs it, clearly thinking about something.

“Sorry, did you want this shirt?” You ask, to which the man nods.

“Yea- but I mean if you were planning on getting it…” His words slowly descend into just a mumble of sounds.

“It’s just that it has my name on it and I thought it was pretty cool.” The man points to the giant words on the shirt.

“Oscar?” You raise an eyebrow and the man nods rather violently.

“Yea, my name’s Oscar. Piastri. Oscar Piastri, so yea, pretty cool shirt.”

You shrug and hand him the shirt, “Well, you can take it, not like it says y/n or anything…”

“That’s my name.” You clarify and Oscar nods in response.

Oscar takes the shirt from you and smiles, “Thanks.”

“No problem, have a good day.” You smile as he walks off.

The interaction is clearly not something you were expecting but you continue on your day, picking out another shirt before heading off.

—

“So… anything interesting happen?” Your friend says, leaning back on their chair.

“Yea, I had a weird thing happen at the thrift store.” You say.

“Spill.”

“I was looking at this shirt and then this guy bumped into me and asked me if he could have the shirt since it had his name on it.” You recount.

“What was his name?”

“Oscar. Piastri, or something like that.” You draw random shapes in the air as you speak.

Your friend chokes on her water, almost spitting it onto you.

“Oscar Piastri?”

“Yea, I didn’t know-”

“You met Oscar Piastri?”

“Yes… am I supposed to know him?”

Your friend is exasperated, “And you didn’t like… take a photo or anything?”

“I mean, he didn’t really ask for it, would’ve been pretty weird…”

“THE OSCAR PIASTRI!?”

—

“THE Y/N!” Lando’s jaw is almost on the floor.

“I mean… yes?” Oscar’s shoulders slowly shrug up.

“AND YOU DIDN’T TAKE A PHOTO OR ANYTHING?” Lando screeches with the decibel levels capable of deafening someone.

“Well- it would’ve been weird to just… say that.” Oscar tries to justify.

“THE Y/N? FOURTEEN TIME GRAMMY WINNER?” Lando violently shakes Oscar, “AND YOU DIDN’T EVEN LIKE-”

Lando sighs loudly, clearly unable to form any more coherent sentences.

—

“OSCAR PIASTRI? F1 ROOKIE OF THE YEAR? THE GUY WHO WON THE QATAR SPRINT LAST YEAR? PROBABLY THE BEST F1 ROOKIE?”

Your friend is almost shouting in incoherent sentences.

You cover your ears, “Okay! Chill- I’ll google him or something…”

You take out your phone and google the name ‘Oscar Piastri’. The search results tell you all you need to know about Oscar Piastri.

“Okay… wow, so my bad on that-” You chuckle awkwardly, “I mean, he was pretty nice.”

“You BETTER somehow, someway get a photo with him!” Your friend grabs your shoulders and shakes you.

“Okay, okay!” You raise your hands in surrender.

Your friend goes to refill her cup of water which leaves you alone, pondering.

Oscar Piastri. He seemed pretty tame, and pretty sweet. Your interaction with him made you feel… an odd sense of comfort, not being begged for photos when all you wanted was to buy clothes.

It was the first time in a while and you kinda liked it.

You take a selfie, and post it to your story.

Your fingers hover over the keyboard.

When you meet THE Oscar Piastri and don’t realise until an hour later.

You chuckle at your own joke.

ps. nice shirt.

You smile, content with yourself as you post the story, turning off your phone and putting it on the table.

—

Lando shoves the phone in Oscar’s face.

“LOOK!” Lando shrieks.

“The y/n knows you exist!” Lando cheers.

“You better fix this, or maybe I’ll NEVER get a photo with ‘em EVER!” Lando shouts into Oscar’s ear.

Oscar rubs his temples and sighs, “Alright, alright Lando.”

He searches your name on instagram, following you before opening your story and liking it.

He sends a message your way by replying to the story.

oscarpiastri: Hi :)

He doesn’t really know what else to say.

You hesitate to respond, you think hard about what to say back. You don’t even know what you’re worried about.

y/n_l/n: hello mr oscar piastri.

—

A few months pass and you find yourself standing in a paddock belonging to McLaren.

“Hello 14-time Grammy Winner.” You hear a voice come from behind.

You have to admit, F1 wasn’t something you thought you’d be interested in, yet here you were, with the help of your friend.

“Hello Mr Piastri.” You say and smile when you see him wearing the shirt.

“Guess we should formally introduce ourselves?” He chuckles and you nod.

You clear your throat, “Can I get a photo, Mr Piastri, I’m a huge fan.”

Oscar laughs and pats your shoulder.

“May I get a photo with you?”

847 notes · View notes

persevereforahappyending · 2 months ago

Text

No Man's Land |13|

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Reader

Summary: Sam can’t help but be drawn to the cute stranger from her gym, even if everything about them makes them the perfect suspect, just when Ghostface has returned.

Warnings: Bleeding, Stab Wounds

Word Count: 3.5k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

You leaned against the wall as you waited for Sam to talk with her sister. Tara was clearly upset, which you couldn’t blame her for, a psycho was trying to kill her and her friends, again. You thought it was best to make yourself scarce though, so you chose a wall to lean against where you could keep your eye on everyone. You tilted your head as Ethan walked around, looking at the stuff in the cases. As far as you knew Ethan was new to the friend group and hadn’t been a part of any previous attacks, he was looking at everything as if this were some sort of museum, not as if he was looking at the complete history of a couple serial killers, or at the evidence of his so-called friends’ attack last year.

“Hey,” Kirby said, nodding at you. “We think we got a plan to catch Ghostface.”

You pushed off the wall and stepped up to Kirby with your arms crossed. “What do you got?” you asked.

“We’re going to trace his call.”

You slowly nodded, tracing a call was the quickest way to find where someone was. “But you’d have to expect him to call to be ready.” You had traced plenty of calls when on a mission, well, the people back home did the tracing, you and your team were just the boots on the ground, waiting to see where your target was.

“Which is why we’re going to tempt him,” Kirby said slowly. You furrowed your brow, the only thing that would tempt Ghostface to call was Sam. Your eyes widened when you realized what Kirby meant, and you shook your head. “She already agreed.” You let out a huff, Sam was very bad at keeping herself safe.

You nodded. “Let’s get to it,” you gestured for Kirby to lead the way. You weren’t happy about Sam basically using herself as bait to tempt Ghostface, but you knew you didn’t have any say. You were just going to have to do your best to protect her until Kirby could trace the call.

“One other thing first,” Kirby whispered as she leaned closer to you. You furrowed your brow, but you looked down to see her sneaking a gun to you.

You looked around to make sure no one was paying any attention to either of you as you took the gun from her and as casually as you could slipped it in the holster at your back. “You sure about this?” you whispered. You didn’t look at her, you didn’t want to draw any attention to the two of you.

“Call it a leap of faith,” she shrugged. “Maybe this is a mistake, maybe you use it against me,” she gave a little nod in the direction of the gun. “But my gut is telling me you having that is what’s for the best.”

You nodded. “Thank you.” You knew the kind of trust Kirby was putting in you. Kirby was betrayed by her best friend and the guy she liked, her giving you a gun was probably the riskiest thing she could do.

You followed behind Kirby as she led you to where everyone else was beginning to gather. “So, we doing this?” Gale asked.

“Sorry, no press allowed,” Kirby said with faux sympathy and smile.

Gale glared at Kirby but just rolled her eyes. You were honestly surprised Gale didn’t fight Kirby a little harder. You weren’t sure what the history between Kirby and Gale was since Kirby was in high school during the 2011 attacks and you didn’t think she had interacted with Gale before then, but it was clear Gale had a way of getting on people’s bad side. The relationship between Gale and Sam was complicated to say the least, sometimes it seemed like Sam couldn’t stand Gale and other times it seemed like she knew Gale was the only one who could truly understand. You didn’t dislike Gale by any means, but you had a natural distrust when it came to reporters, especially when said reports used other people’s tragedies to make a profit.

You offered Sam a smile when she looked at you which she instantly returned. You told her everything that happened to you last year and the reason as to why you were in town now. She ran off to talk to her sister almost right after that and you hadn’t gotten a chance to talk more, you hadn’t talked to her about your theory about Ghostface either, there were just too many eyes around you all the time now it seemed. A part of you wanted to know what Sam thought about what you told her, when you said it was her who should stay away from you, you meant it.

You followed everyone out of the shrine and waited patiently as Kirby and Bailey got everything together for the plan. You knew Tara wasn’t thrilled the last time you had a gun and didn’t tell her, but you opted not to tell anyone, including Sam, you had one this time. You knew it probably would come off the wrong way when they did eventually find out but you didn’t know who to trust. You didn’t think the sisters were behind any of the attacks, but Ghostface somehow knew to wear a bullet proof vest and maybe it was because they knew the history of the mantle, or maybe it was because they somehow learned you had a gun on you. Sam was the only one who knew that information and she didn’t even share it with her sister, that didn’t mean Ghostface didn’t bug her phone or was somehow watching and listening to her, you could never be too careful.

Once all the details were worked out the plan went into motion. The plan was for Sam to walk around central park and await Ghostface’s call. It didn’t seem like the best plan considering it was the middle of the day and Sam would be surrounded by people, but it seemed to be the only plan all of you had. You weren’t sure what Ghostface’s mindset was in these type of situations, he usually called his victims before attacking them, you weren’t sure if that was just part of the routine to honor the first Ghostface or if he got pleasure in causing fear and panic in his victims before he struck.

“I’m not sure I can do this,” Anika said, before everyone parted ways. “I’m sorry,” she looked at Mindy and there were tears in her eyes as if she thought Mindy would be angry with her.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Mindy assured her. “I don’t want you anywhere near this.” Mindy pulled Anika in for a long hug and only parted to give her a passionate kiss. “I want you to be safe.” Anika nodded as she tried to hold herself together as tears continued to fall.

“I can take you somewhere safe,” Kirby offered, Anika nodded at the offer. “I’ll meet you guys in an hour?” she pointed at all of you.

You all watched Anika walk off with Kirby, you didn’t know her well, but she didn’t deserve anything that was happening, none of them did. You hoped that without being around the others Anika would no longer be a target. Even if Ghostface tried to go after her again you believed Kirby would get her somewhere safe, preferably with some police protection. While Kirby took care of Anika, Bailey left to gather everything they’d need for the trace, and you and the others all began making your way towards Central Park.

You couldn’t help but nod your head in approval when Kirby pulled up in a truck with an Enterprise logo on it. Any time you did undercover work it was usually you wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses or sitting in some cramped truck with five other people without any air conditioning. Though, when you were undercover or spying on someone it was always in another country, a beat-up old truck would draw much more attention than an Enterprise van, at least this way you’d be hiding in plain sight.

“I’m going with you,” Tara said.

“Wha-no,” Sam said, shaking her head. “It’s too dangerous.”

“Which is why I’m going with you.” Tara looked up at her sister with a determined look that even though you had only known her for a few days now you knew that look meant there would be no arguing with her.

Sam looked to you for support. You silently chuckled and shook your head. “I’m not going anywhere,” you said. You didn’t think it needed to be said but if Sam thought her sister was still willing to stay behind then maybe you did need to clarify you weren’t sitting back in the van either.

“Alright,” Kirby said turning to the three of you. “We will be in this van,” she pointed back to the van. “Bailey will be waiting on a park bench, ready to make his move,” she gestured at Bailey. “Just relax and enjoy the nice weather.” Sam nodded. “Don’t worry,” Kirby rested a comforting hand on Sam’s shoulder. “You got this. As soon as he calls, I’ll be able to trace him within seconds.”

Sam nodded. You could tell she was nervous, but you knew she was ready. She had talked to Ghostface plenty of times on the phone at this point, the only difference between now and all those other times was you all actually wanted him to call. The three of you walked away so you wouldn’t draw attention to Kirby as she hopped into the back of the van. You caught Bailey walking towards a bench, wearing a baseball cap and carrying a newspaper as if that wasn’t suspicious looking at all.

The three of you began walking around Central Park, you made sure to keep your eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary. You weren’t suspecting someone in a Ghostface costume to run straight up to the three of you but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be close by. He could be waiting in the shadows like he was when he attacked the three of you on the street. You were prepared for anything, anyone that looked the slightest bit suspicious you had an eye on them.

You could tell Sam was getting antsy with the way she kept looking at the phone, as if she was willing it to ring. You weren’t sure if she wanted it to ring or if she was secretly hoping it wouldn’t. You didn’t have to wait too long because the next thing you knew, the phone rang. Sam looked up, meeting the gaze of you and her sister, you both gave her an encouraging nod before she swiped to answer.

“Hello?” Sam asked.

You couldn’t hear Ghostface’s side of the conversation, so you focused on Sam’s words and watching her facial expressions. Sam always looked shaken when she talked to Ghostface, though you were sure the fear was less for herself and more for her sister. When Sam talked to Ghostface though, you could see her determination and anger at this all happening, her desperation for all of this to just stop.

The call ended almost as quickly as it began. From the looks of it, it didn’t seem the conversation went as Sam wanted, or you guessed it went as well as expected. Sam quickly tapped her phone and put Kirby on speaker. “Did you get it?” She asked.

“Yeah,” Kirby said, sounding slightly distract as she probably tried to narrow down the location. “That’s weird,” she mumbled more to herself.

“What?” You asked. Weird was not a good word to use when tracing someone’s call, that usually only meant a few things, the phone was either from someone you knew, the call was coming from right outside the van, or it was out in the middle of the ocean or somewhere it couldn’t possibly be. You might not know much about Ghostface, but you figured it wasn’t the latter, Ghostface seemed well equipped in hacking or using a number that was clearly someone else’s.

“He’s nowhere near here.” You furrowed your brow, the only reason he wouldn’t be anywhere near all of you was if he knew the plan, which was seeming more likely, or he had another target. “He’s in an apartment on the upper west side.”

“On West 96th?” Tara asked, snatching the phone from her sister.

“Yeah, how did you know?” Kirby asked.

Your eyes widened with realization before Tara said anything else. “Gale.” The sisters shared a look, and you knew you’d be running off after them to confront Ghostface once again.

Tara and Sam took off running without a word and you were right behind them. It was clear they had absolutely no plan except for to get to Gale. “There!” Tara shouted and pointed at a police car.

Sam hopped in the passenger seat while Tara ran around to the driver’s side. She had just begun to open the door when you put a hand on it, closing it on her. She quickly whipped around, shooting you a furious glare. “I’m driving,” is all you said. You gave her a look that told her not to argue with you.

Tara pulled her hand away from the door and glared at you one last time before hoping in the backseat. You jumped in the car and found the keys Bailey carelessly left in the vehicle. It wasn’t that you doubted Tara’s driving skills, you just had more experience in this type of thing, and you didn’t want to put your life in some college kids’ hands by them getting behind the wheel. You looked past Sam as Bailey waved his hands and ran towards the squad car, you just smirked before flipping on the lights and sirens and whipped out into oncoming traffic.

You sped down the street, swerving in between cars as you made your way halfway across the city. You didn’t worry about anything as you made your way uptown, you had the sirens on, you were in a police car, everyone should be making way for you anyway. It didn’t even cross your mind how much trouble you could get in for technically stealing a police car. You knew Bailey hated you so him arresting you wasn’t too far out of the realm of possibilities.

You made it to the Upper West Side within a few minutes. Before you knew it you were slamming on your brakes right out front of the apartment building. You didn’t even bother turning off the lights as you rushed inside behind Sam and Tara.

Sam tapped her foot repeatedly as the three of you waited for the elevator to reach Gale’s floor, of course she had to live at the top. Tara wasn’t much better, she was practically vibrating as she stared up at the numbers, as if she was willing them to count faster. Finally, there was a ding, and the elevator doors slid open.

The three of you ran out of the elevator only to stop dead in your tracks at the sight of Ghostface over Gale with a knife in their hand. Sam only waited a second before she rushed forward, already reaching for the gun on the floor. You didn’t want to reveal your new gun yet, but you reached back for it, this could be your only chance to kill one of them. Just as your finger brushed against the weapon Sam began firing and Ghostface took off out the door.

You tracked Ghostface’s movement as they went down the hall, most likely headed for the stairwell. If you ran after them, you could probably catch up, a stairwell was a tight space, but you could easily take them out. “What do we do?” Sam asked, breaking you out of your thoughts.

You hated to let Ghostface go but you didn’t hesitate to drop down next to Gale. You quickly assessed her wounds. “Call an ambulance,” you said. Tara quickly pulled out her phone and with tears already falling she brought the phone to her ear. “Put pressure here,” you ordered Sam, grabbing her hands and showing her where to press on the wound on Gale’s shoulder. You pushed her hands down, using the same force you wanted her to use. You then moved to the wound on her stomach and began applying pressure there as well. You didn’t focus on what Gale was mumbling to Sam, more concerned with making sure she didn’t bleed out. “Don’t stop,” you ordered when you caught Sam relaxing slightly.

You kept your hands firmly pressing on Gale’s wound until the medics arrived and took over. You backed away as they got to work on Gale and looked over at the sisters who were both holding each other as tears streamed down their faces. You looked down at your hands, seeing them once again covered in blood, you flexed your fingers as you tried to avoid wiping the blood on your pants.

Once the three of you gave your statements you were allowed to wash the blood off. The three of you ended up in the lobby of Gale’s apartment along with Chad, Mindy, and Ethan. You stood away from the group, leaning against the wall as you watched them, you didn’t want to intrude while they processed what happened. Gale was alive when the ambulance took her, but she had lost a lot of blood already, it would be hit or miss on whether she survived or not.

You furrowed your brow when Tara went from being huddled together with her friends to standing up. You couldn’t hear what they were saying but it was clear Tara was talking on the phone with someone and with the way she held it they seemed to be on speaker. You knew it wasn’t Ghostface they were talking to, there was too much anger coming off all of them and absolutely no fear.

You raised and eyebrow when Sam broke away from the group and came to lean on the wall next to you. “They’re making a plan to kill Ghostface,” she said. You hummed, that meant Tara was talking to either Bailey or Kirby if not both of them. “We plan on using the shrine.”

“Makes sense,” you said, not taking your eyes off the friends. “A lot of places to hide and take someone out.” It truly was the perfect place to stage an attack, but just as many upsides as there were there were as many downsides. The plan would only work if Ghostface didn’t know what he was walking into, but he had been a step ahead of you this entire time, so you didn’t foresee surprising him.

“If we’re really doing this,” you whispered, not looking at Sam as you spoke. “There’s something you need to know.”

“What?” she asked. You could feel her eyes on you, but you still couldn’t look at her, you could risk giving anything away.

“Don’t react when I tell you.” You glanced out of the side of your eye and when you saw Sam nod and mimic your position of leaning against the wall and not look at you, you knew this would be the only chance you would get. “There’s three of them.”

“Wha-”

“Don’t,” you cut her off. “There’s three killers, I’m sure of it.”

“There’s usually only ever two,” Sam whispered.

You nodded lightly but to anyone else it would look like you were just leaning your head back against the wall. “There were two when you were attacked in the gym. Those two were untrained, no combat experience whatsoever.” You shook your head, you clocked that instantly when you faced off against the one, then the other surprised you and ran instead of taking you out or trying to continue going after Sam. “But the one from the bodega,” your voice got lower, afraid someone would listen, even though there was no one around. “They were trained, like professionally.”

“Like a cop?” You nodded. “You already have suspects.”

You nodded again even though it wasn’t a question. “My top suspects have been Bailey, Ethan, and Quinn from the moment I met them.”

“Quinn is dead.”

“Yeah, I haven’t figured that one out yet,” you bobbed your head back and forth. “But the other two,” you glanced at Ethan as he crossed his arms and swayed back and forth as he listened to what the others said. “Look, cop, FBI agent, military,” you listed off, including yourself in there as well. “There are three Ghostface and one of them is highly trained, don’t trust anyone.”

“Even you?”

You looked over to see Sam’s eyes already on you. “Yes,” you said simply.

You would do everything to protect Sam and her friends, but you didn’t want Sam to blindly trust anyone, even you. If she trusted you after only knowing you a few days then she could easily trust anyone else, you wanted her guard up and for her to question everything. “Now,”’ you said, pushing off the wall. “Let’s kill these assholes.”

Taglist: @thatshyboy1998 @artrizzler19 @btay3115 @acutenobody @godamnityess

@luvwanda @rqizzu @riyaexee @bella423 @rayisaknight

@assgradiangod @canyonyodeler @marsyay78

#sam carpenter #sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x you #sam carpenter imagine #samantha carpenter #samantha carpenter x reader #melissa barrera #scream #scream vi #scream 6 #no man's land

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simpee9000 · 7 months ago

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Not Just Friends - 2 -

Prologue : Chapter 1 : Not edited : 3.4k words : M.List

Childhood best friends turned into something more, at least with the label. Katsuki Bakugo, a fast-rising hero and fast-learning guy who is ever so slow in getting attached to and loving someone. Even three long years into a relationship, and your friends even forget you're even dating. Nothing happening, spare a few kisses.. like 3 kisses, during high school. Graduated and living together, and you guys have done absolutely nothing to further the relationship. Are you sure you're not just friends? CW: Smut, brief domestic violence discussion, virginity loss, aggressive flirting from creeps, gore with pro hero stuff (lmk if i missed any) Applies to all chapters regardless of it is in said chapter.

---

-suit colors -can shut my quirk completely off -isn't a piece of shit -password. -others cant turn my shit off either -katsuki

The note Katsuki left was majority scribbles, clearly written the second he left. You found it right when you were leaving, the crumpled sticky note being placed next to your keys.

Getting the watch set up and made for him would be difficult. Mainly making sure others can't tamper with his quirk. Everything else would be easy. Two weeks tops. Simply needed to take the same material used for his gloves and gauntlets and use it for his watch. The password and personal quirk disabled features would also be easy, just using the same techniques that normal quirk handcuffs use.

When you got to your office you immediately got to work. Drawing up the design and adding in the small details you wanted to add. You went through your email as well, getting the details Izuku sent you about what he wants. Unluckily for him, you would have to order the stuff he needs, everything Katsuki needed was already in the building. His case was personally yours so you saved up any left over materials from his suit. The quirk removing feature would take more time to set up though.

---

"Hey!" someone shouted, tacking your name to the end.

You just entered Katsuki's hero agency for lunch, talking with the sweet old receptionist. Ignoring the shout, you thanked the lady for buzzing you up. Walking over to the elevators and pushing the button to go up.

"Don't ignore me!" The voice whined. You rolled your eyes stepping into the elevator and frantically clicking the button to close the doors.

The doors almost shut completely, a hand stopping it a second to late and getting crushed.

"Fuckin' christ!" You opened the door as quick as you could, trying to make sure they weren't injured. They were doubled over, holding their hand to their chest. "Are you okay?" You asked, grabbing their shoulder to lift them away, attempting to see the injury.

They started shaking and panic ran through you, before you could yell to the receptionist to call paramedics they started laughing. Standing up straight and smiling, placing their 'injured hand' on your shoulder to support their laughter.

"Oh go fuck yourself," you brushed them off. Pressing the elevator open again.

"I'm sorry it was too easy!" He smiled. Moving to stand next to you again.

You ignored him once again. Stepping into the elevator that he unfortunately joined. Looking at the door that previously crushed his hand. "You broke the door," you pointed out, crossing your arms.

"Holy shit, Bakugo is going to kill me," he paled.

"That's what you get for activating your quirk between metal, Kirishima," you commented.

"Ouch, last name?" he feigned pain, clutching a hand to his heart, "Come on, how was I supposed to know?"

You glanced at him briefly, "You nickname your quirk unbreakable, what did you expect?" You deadpanned.

"Not that!"

"Be serious, I know you're not that dumb," you said, stepping out of the elevator at Katsuki's floor. Beginning the path to his office.

"I just wanted to talk to you," he complained, "but you ignored me completely."

"I wonder why."

"Come on," he pleaded, "I said I was sorry."

"Don't care," you knocked on Katsuki's office.

"Please," he begged.

"No."

Just as Kirishima opened his mouth to beg more, Katsuki opened his door. "The fuck are you two bitching about?" Katsuki looked at you for an answer. Which you shrugged and made your way inside. Sitting in his desk chair and sorting through the food he ordered for you two.

Katsuki turned his head to Kirishima, wanting an answer. "She won't talk to me," he pointed at you like a child.

Katsuki turned to you, raising an eyebrow, "Really?"

Before he could start getting to you about acting like a child you pointed back at Kirishima, "He broke your elevator."

He glared at the red head.

"I was just trying to talk to her!"

"And you needed to break my elevator to do that?"

Kirishima paused his comeback, knowing anything he wanted to say would be flawed. You choked back a laugh, cause Katsuki to turn to you.

"Don't act like you're innocent," he pointed, "All ya had to do was to talk him and my door wouldn't be broken."

"Nah, he broke my shit," you shrugged.

"I said I was sorry!"

"Yet now you just broke his shit too," you backed.

"What else did he break?" Katsuki asked.

You pointed towards Kirishima, and his hero outfit, "He broke his shoulder guards, again. I've fixed them five times this month because of the stupid shit he is doing."

"Whatever, out," Katsuki motioned for Kirishima to leave. Which he did, with a pout on his face. Katsuki shut the door and walked over. "Why do you insist on stealing my chair everytime?"

"The other ones aren't comfortable," you answered, handing him his food and opening yours to start eating. "Oh!" You perked up, "I finished the design for your watch, just need everything ordered and I'll start on it."

He took a break from his food, looking up at you, "How long?"

"Shipment should get here in two days, they just had a huge order and have a ton of left overs, so I'm using the stuff they have extras of. Wanna see the design?" You smiled, pulling up a picture on your phone when he nodded.

He looked over the notes you wrote down, zooming in on the smaller details, "looks good."

"Good!" You smiled.

His office door opened, "I forgot, we're having a little get together at Denki's place Saturday," Kirishima smiled before shutting the door again.

"No."

"Come on Kats," you begged, trying to meet his eyes.

"Nuh uh," he took a bite of his food, looking up briefly and meeting your eyes.

"Please! We haven't hung out with them in forever!" You pointed out.

"We hung out last night."

"Yeah, with Z', not with your friends."

"No."

He glared at you until he felt your hand rest on the top of his, "Please?"

"Fuckin' fine," he brushed off your hand and continued eating.

---

"This is lot more then a little get together," Katsuki grumbled right after pushing the door open. Disregarding a knock all together and walking straight in, taking a pause in his step.

You took a glance over his shoulder, since he took up the majority of the small hallway that started off the apartment, seeing the solid twenty or more people that crowded Denki's and Sero's apartment. "It's fine, it's not like we are forced to stay long," you pushed his back lightly, getting him to walk in entirely.

"Kacchan! Surprised you came!" Denki smiled once he saw Katsuki leave the hallway, you stepping out from behind him. "Thanks for dragging him here," Denki came up to you, giving you a one armed hug since his other hand was holding a beer.

"What else am I good for," you joked, "Didn't you say this was a small get together?"

"I was just trying to increase the odds of #2 pro hero coming in," he shrugged, Katsuki shooting him a glare and you a look, saying he wished he never came. "Now make yourselves at home, I gotta make sure Mina doesn't eat all the jello shots."

You watched Denki skip to the kitchen, instantly yelling at a stuffed faced Mina. Looking around the room you saw Sero sitting in a chair with two open spots next to it, turning back to Katsuki, he already knew your look, "Go, I'll get you a drink."

Sero saw you heading his way and gave you a wave. He was sitting in a recliner and had a loveseat spaced next to it. You took the loveseat and leaned on the armrest close to him, kicking your feet unto the other half of the couch to prevent someone stealing Kats spot.

"How's work?" Sero asked once you gave him your attention.

"Good, busy as always. But I've been ahead of the game lately, I think I can start branching out more on my own soon," you smiled.

"Exciting," he smiled, " I see you got the grump outside for once," he nodded to Katsuki, who was being badgered by some of Denki's sidekicks/partners.

You laughed, "Yeah, you're not the first to tell me that tonight, but I'm not surpised. He went out with me last night to Z' as well."

"Did you drug him? I won't snitch."

"No, I think his mom yelled at him or something," you pretended to expose. Hiding the truth behind Katsuki's behavior, which was likely the civilian death he had to deal with recently. "But how's your work?"

"Meh, it's hero work," he drank from his cup, "Recently had to deal with a spider villain so it was weird. It was like fighting myself if I had eight legs and eyes."

The two of you continue to talk about work or recent things between friends. Briefly discussing Kirishima and Mina's budding relationship that's been going on for years. Just before Sero could question your own relationship, Katsuki came back.

"Fuckin' nerds wouldn't leave me alone," he grumbled picking up your legs and sitting on the couch with you, handing you a drink.

"You love the attention," you bumped him with your knee, "and careful, might summon them again."

Casual conversation formed once again, banter between you and Katsuki, and annoyance from him to Sero. On the heated topic of old heroes. With Sero caring less, and just wanting to rile him up.

You smiled along with their conversation, more focus on Katsuki. He's rested into the chair despite being annoyed at the conversation. Having a hand rested on your knee and the other rested on the armrest, holding a low carb beer. Which he took a sip of every once in a while before he had to tell Sero he was wrong again. You admired every move of his, from his sharp jaw, to defined cheekbones, and his bright red eyes. Only stopping when Sero called you out.

"Stop eye fucking in front of me," Sero gagged.

"The fuck?" Katsuki question, not ever aware of what you were doing, "We're not."

"You might not be," Sero smirked.

"Oh fuck you, Sero," you rolled your eyes. Ignoring the blush you felt heating your face.

"Don't push your feelings onto me," Sero teased.

"Oh my god," you groaned, " I give up." Sero crackled as he laughed at you. "Shouldn't you be talking about your dumbass celebrity crush in America?"

"Who's that?" Katsuki questioned, willing to change the topic of conversation again.

"He has a crush on an actor, Ryan Reynolds. The one that reenacts the old anti-hero Deadpool," you informed.

"It's normal in America! Every guy loves him, even the straightest!" Sero defends.

"You do know the murders that Deadpool committed right?" Katsuki questioned, wanting to get on the topic of heroes, a topic he knew everything about.

The debate between whether Deadpool committed crimes for good or not was easily started. Giving yourself another chance to look at Katsuki. Not wanting to be caught you looked at the hand rested on your knee. Reaching out your own hand to trace over his. Soft and smooth from his sweat but rough from the work day. He let his hand lose the soft grip on your knee, letting you hold his entire hand freely. You traced over the rough pads of his fingers that you knew would turn soft again in the morning. Rubbing your thumb over his knuckles and the veins that lined the top of his hand. Remembering how a few years ago he would freak out if you tried to do this exact thing. Only this year has he started to let you hold his hand for longer than five minutes.

Yet he still wasn't perfect. Eventually he pulled his hand from your grip and wiped his hands off on his pants. It seemed like he didn't want your touch on him, it stung. You knew that was unlikely, but the thought couldn't leave your mind. you folded up. Crossing your arms slowly and turning your attention back onto Sero. Which caused his eyes to flicker between you and Katsuki, clearly reading your face. Before he could ask anything, he gave him a slight shake of your head.

Eventually Kirishima dragged Katsuki away from the conversation, wanting him as a partner for cup flipping.

"How come you aren't flirting with girls, Sero?" you asked, used to him normally parading the party rooms for someone to flirt with.

"Denki called dibs on everyone here basically," Sero shrugged. He sat up from his slouched sitting, " Now, what the fuck was that?" Sero motioned from you to where Katsuki was now playing games with Kirishima.

Play dumb.

"Whatcha mean?" you took a sip of your drink.

"Don't play that shit with me, He pulled away from you completely," he pointed out.

"I know, he always does that," you pointed out, wanting to stress that this wasn't a big deal.

"Always? You're kidding"

"Nope," you took a sip, "He's actually improved."

"You're saying it used to be worse," His jaw basically dropped.

"It's Katsuki you're talking about right now," you deadplanned, "Speaking of which, we never talked about this. He doesn't know it bugs me and he doesn't need to."

"Yes he does," Sero stressed.

"No he doesn't," you hissed, " I don't want him knowing. It's fine."

"Come on-"

"Sero, stop."

Before he could push forward someone entered your peripheral, standing in front of Katsuki's spot. Turning your head towards him you gave a guarded smile.

"This seat takin?" he somewhat slurred.

"Yeah it-"

"Kidding! I know it's not. No one has sat here for a good 10 minutes from what I've seen," The guy plopped down on the couch, giving you barely enough time to kick your feet off the couch and scoot over the crowd the armrest into order to not touch the guy. You and Sero shared a look. "So, what's a girl like you doing here alone," The guy smiled, slapping a hand down on your thigh to gain your attention back from Sero.

"I'm not alone?" you peeled his hand from your thigh, dropping it back onto his lap, "I was actually just talk to my friend here abo-"

He put his hand back on your thigh, "I was asking why you had no boyfriend here, you're so pretty."

"I do have one-" you tried to cut in.

"I'll be your boyfriend, names Mason," he smiled weirdly.

Once again, you peeled his hand off your leg, "No thanks."

"Is it cause the name? I'm from America, I'm not lying about my name to sound cool," he hurried out, replacing his hand on your thigh.

"Trust me, I know you're not trying to sound cool," you spoke out disgust, "Now could you please not?" Sero and you shared another look, his asking if he should step in, but you shook your head. You could handle this just fine.

He pondered for a moment, "It's cause you don't know me right? Well, I'm from America. Here to learn about the Japanese heroes-"

"Dude," you cut him off, "I could give less of a fuck, please leave me alone."

"Don't play hard to get," he grabbed onto your leg harder.

Just before Sero jumped in-

"I leave for five fucking minutes," Katsuki spits out.

The guy looked over the back of the couch, "Sorry, did you plan to make a move? I swung first sorry dude, better luck next time."

"No, I fuckin' plan to swing first on the dude that's holding onto my fuckin' girlfriend."

You took the opportunity of the guy being distracted to get his hands off you, and to leave the couch.

"Hey, babe don't leave yet, the guys just being an ass, he'll leave soon," the creep called out to you.

Everyone's attention was on the guy now. Staring at him baffled that he called #2 pro hero an ass right in front of him and his girlfriend. You stepped closer to Sero, prepared for what was about to happen.

"That's it," Katsuki grabbed the hair on the back of the guys head and yanked him down. Couch flipping over with the guy. A quick stomp on the dude stomach had him rolling over in enough pain.

"My couch!" Denki yelped.

"Fuck your couch and fuck your party," Katsuki walked up to you, grabbed your hand and pulled you to leave.

"Gimme a second, I want to say bye," you tugged on his hold when he got to the hallway that lead to the front entrance.

He looked at you baffled, "You just got felt up, they could care less if you said bye right now."

"Kats, I'm fine. I would of handled it if you didn't."

"Fine, say bye," he waved you off, crossing his arms and guarding the exit.

You walked up to where Kirishima, Sero, and Denki were standing watching drunk Mina lecture the creep.

"Hey, I'm heading out," you spoke from behind them, getting their attention.

"That's fine girl, Imma kick his ass more for you," Mina slurred as she jumped to hug you, almost knocking you off your feet. She pulled back from the hug and held onto your shoulders, "You okay?"

"Yeah," you nodded, getting her out of your hold and pushing her into Kirishima, "Make sure she doesn't do something stupid."

"I will, I'll deal with the guy too. What he did was fucking gross," you flinched, it was rare to hear Kirishima curse.

"I bet you will," laughed off. Hugging Sero and thanking Denki for inviting you, all of them double checking if you were okay. It warmed your heart that they were heroes, it was truly the right career. So after confirming that you were fine, you walked back to Katsuki.

"Done?"

"Yep," you put your shoes back on and left the apartment together.

Once in his car, Katsuki turned to you. "You sure you're okay? I'll go put the guy in fucking jail."

You laughed, "I'm fine, Kirishima has it handled."

"You sure?"

"It's not the worst thing a guy has said to me," you shrugged, "Can we get some fast food?"

"The fuck else has a guy said to you?"

"Nothing important Kats, can we drop it? I'm fine."

He eyed you warily, trying to find the correct way to go about this. He sighed and gave in, "What fast food?"

"I don't know, I want a shake."

---

The two of you got the food and cozied on your couch, digging in once you had a random Netflix movie playing. With half of your attention on the movie, and half on the situation, you decided to bring it up. "Is it weird that what the guy did doesn't bug me much?"

Katsuki glance your way, "No? Everyone has different reactions to everything."

"The main thing that bugs me is that people can't tell we are dating, like ever," you said honestly. "Like the dude didn't buy I had a boyfriend in general."

He hummed in reply.

"Our own friends forget half the time, like I wish they knew we were together, and took my word for it," you sighed.

"I know how you feel," Katsuki looked down at his hands, that held his half eaten burger.

"Even you feel that way?" you grabbed a couple fries to eat.

He looked at you, "The other night with that Nana girl, just wished it was more obvious."

"We can't blame them though, it's not like we act like a traditional couple," you shrugged and took a sip of your shake.

"Sorry," shame filled his voice.

You turned to him with you're full attention, "Why are you sorry? You haven't done anything?

"That's the issue," he crossed his arms," I don't do anything, I fucking brush you off me," he dropped his arms again. resting them on his knees and putting his face in his hands.

"Hey," you reached for his shoulder. Stopping when he flinched away from you, "Sorry," you mumbled. Forgetting he hates being sneaked up on or touched when he isn't paying attention.

"This is exactly what I'm talking about, I don't do anything but pull away from you. And you're honestly telling me you're fucking happy in this relationship?" Katsuki looked at you. Getting up to pace when you just stared at him, confused by his outburst.

"Are you not?" you asked, watching him pace the room.

He paused, "Why wouldn't I be? You give me everything I need. I don't even fucking acknowledge your primary love language while you hit every goal of mine."

"Kats, what I said to the girls the other night is the truth, I'm okay with it. The things you need are just as important, and if that's to not touch, that's fine."

"Fucking bullshit-"

"Katsuki," you said his name sharply, "I mean it."

"I don't know how-"

"That doesn't matter, you're worried I'm unhappy and I'm telling you that I am happy. Because I am, now can we please not get into this right now? Tonight already hasn't gone well."

"Fuck, you're right, I'm sorry," he rubbed his hands over his face and went back to his spot of the couch. leaving his food half touched. He opened his arms, "You can lay on me if you want."

"Katsuki, I told you, no physical touch is-"

"That's not what I'm getting at, c'mere," he motioned towards himself. And who were you to refuse, quickly curling up into his side and watching a movie to wash the bad day off you're mind.

-Next Part-

In them m.list of this fic comment if you want to be added into a tag list <3

I'll no longer add people to the taglist if they haven't commented there. It's too much to keep up with all the new part. Hope you understand <3

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iichfilwypj · 21 days ago

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lover | percy jackson

ღ percy jackson x daughter of hypnos! reader ღ warnings: percy is completely whipped here! maybe he's not very accurate or himself but im a slut for romantic shit yk ღ wc: 1.658 sorry loves dreamy girls masterlist!

After years, New Year's Eve was finally different.

She'd expected the usual—warmth at camp, chatting with the campers—but Percy invited her to spend the week with his family instead.

And Sally’s letter and Estelle’s drawing made it impossible to refuse.

Percy had planned every detail perfectly. His mom made her favorite dish, Estelle eagerly talked about seeing “The Sleeping Princess” again, and Percy patiently explained the day’s events to his family.

Because, of course, he had something else up his sleeve.

One last surprise.

Just before midnight, Percy sat beside her as Estelle slept in her lap. The adult's conversation around them faded, and she absentmindedly stroked the little girl’s back to keep herself awake.

When she felt Percy nearby, she looked up to find him brushing a strand of hair from her face. A warm smile appeared as their eyes met.

“She’s so lovely,” she murmured.

“Mm-hmm,” Percy replied, leaning against her. “Does she look like me?”

“Just a bit more adorable.” They shared a quiet laugh.

Then Percy, his voice trembling slightly, said, “Hey, dreamy. Wanna get out of here?” His eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and nerves.

She chuckled, unsure if he was serious. It reminded her of a movie they had watched together, where the guy said the same line to take the girl out of the party and lead her to something more fun.

But before she could protest, he gently lifted Estelle from her lap and took her hand, leading her toward the door.

“Wait, it’s almost midnight—”

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes but—”

“Awesome! Mom, we’re leaving!”

If the the living room was beautifully decorated, the terrace was out of this world.

Percy was relieved that no one had claimed her for their celebrations. The lights lit up the place, contrasting with the soft snow falling gently on the city, transforming everything below into a sea of calm and white.

In one corner, a big blanket rested on the floor, surrounded by scattered cushion. It was small perfect escape.

The cool night air couldn’t reach the warm stillness of it, where the candles burned like magic and the sheets hanging above shielded everything from the real world.

Stunned, she observed Percy walk toward the corner, unaware of the trembling in his legs, his shallow breaths, or the tears that threatened to escape his eyes.

Not because of the cold, but because of the weight of emotions—fear, excitement, all tangled.

The old record player, silent until then, sprang to life with a gentle crackle, the music flowing through the place like a whisper of a forgotten memory.

She couldn’t help but smile, feeling reassured by its familiarity.

The melody sank deep into both their hearts on that terrace, softening them just a bit more. Their eyes locked, his green ones asking—or perhaps pleading—for her to come closer, be near him.

And she did, it was everything she wanted.

They both found their place on the blanket, cozy in each other's warmth. Their legs were tangled like roots, something unbreakable against the world beneath them, which began to roar with the arrival of a new year, a fresh start.

We could leave the Christmas lights up 'til January

“This is lovely,” The daughter of Hypnos rested her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes as the weight of his hand on her back filled her with calm. She couldn’t resist pressing a kiss to his skin. “Did you make this?”

This is our place, we make the rules

“Yes. I know this is your first holiday away from camp in a long time, I wanted it to be unforgettable.” He whispered, burying his face into the girl's hair.

And there's a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you, dear

He heard her nervous laugh and couldn’t help but ask. “What?”

Have I known you 20 seconds or 20 years?

“Why?” she admitted, letting the question escape. She didn’t want to make herself a victim, but she was overwhelmed by all this kindness. “Why so much effort?”

Can I go where you go?

Can we always be this close forever and ever?

And he just stared at her. He observed her, took in every part of her.

He studied her face, her expression, her soul. He saw the surprise in her slightly raised eyebrows, the gratitude in the small smile on her lips, the doubt and fear in the way her nose scrunched.

He saw it all.

And ah, take me out, and take me home

And he risked it all.

You're my, my, my, my

“I mean, it's beautiful, and no one's ever done this for me, but—”

Lover.

“I love you.”

It came out so naturally, so quietly, but with an intensity that made her chest tighten. The world seemed to hold its breath.

She stared at him, wide-eyed, her mind a blur of thoughts. The snow around them fell heavier now, and as the music swirled, it was his words that rang out loudest.

“I—” She couldn’t speak, couldn’t find the words to tell him everything she felt. Her mind raced, emotions tangled in a knot she couldn’t untangle.

But he already knew.

A tender smile appeared, and his eyes stayed on hers. The heat of his hand on her back seeped into her cold, flushed face as he watched the tears threatening to fall.

And while he hated seeing her tears, the way her hands gripped desperately his arm made him wish he could cry alongside her.

“I love you,” he repeated. “It's the only thing I can do when I'm near you. And even when I'm not, I find you in everything. In the music I listen, in the words I speak, in what I do. In what I think—for Aphrodite, you live in my mind.”

“Percy—” she breathed, her voice unsteady as she reached for his hand.

“Please, just let me finish,” he murmured, his voice trembling under the weight of his words.

When she nodded, he drew in a deep breath and carried on.

“No one, not a single person, had ever reached my heart. Close? Yes, but you—the moment I saw you, you took it. You took everything I had.”

His girl let out a broken sob, unable to stop as the tears streamed down in torrents, and his gentle hands caught them. His own tears fell, cold and frozen in that moment.

The bells marking the year's final minute started to chime, but they felt like a distant echo, blending with the rhythm of their heartbeat.

Yet, he pressed on.

“And I don’t want it back. Never. It’s yours. Yes, everything is yours. Because—” he interlaced their fingers harder. “Because you’ve made me feel things I didn’t know I could feel. Every emptiness I’ve ever felt disappeared. And every heartbeat that ever meant anything, became you.”

His thumb softly glided over the back of her hand, sending a shiver up her spine. His forehead almost met hers.

She felt his breath on her skin, and she couldn’t help but shut her eyes, letting the sound of his voice and the melody wrap around her like a gentle wave.

But he tapped her nose with his, prompting her to open her eyes. The tears made her vision hazy, but the bright green she saw before her reassured her that everything was fine.

“And now, my life—it's no longer mine. It’s no longer the one I had. It’s the one you’ve built. Every piece of me, every fragment of what I once was, now belongs to you.”

She could feel the fragility in his hands, the quiver in his fingers, and it made her want to hold him even closer, to embrace him until the oxygen was gone, until the birds stopped singing and the universe wiped away everything but them, everything but that moment.

Everything but their love.

“So take it. Take me entirely, all of me, I’m yours." he concluded. "I always have been.”

He was silent, almost still. His eyes were closed, now afraid of what her reaction might reveal.

And the girl smiled, though it turned more into a pout. Her fingers ceased holding onto his hands to lift his chin, something he did constantly to her. He didn’t open his eyes, but let himself be guided.

“Percy,” She gazed at him, and her voice came out in a whisper, as though fearing the magic of the moment would break.

Without hesitation, they leaned even closer, following the delicate touch of their skin. The gap between them almost completely disappeared.

At last, he opened his eyes. She couldn’t contain what she felt, the urge to tell him everything she had been holding in for so long, though it didn’t measure up to what he had said to her.

The sound of the final five bells echoed, followed by the shouts from the balconies.

"I love you," she said, her heart rising in her throat, her voice quivering.

Five!

“I love you in ways I can’t express with words or gestures. I love you as if my life depended on it—”

Four!

“No, I love you because my life depends on it. Without you, I am nothing.”

Three!

“I once said that you’re the best dream I could wish for—but you're more than that. You're my reality, my light, my existence.”

Two!

“I will take everything from you, if you promise to take everything from me,”

One!

“And keep it forever. Keep me forever, I'll do the same."

Happy New Year!

And finally, she kissed him, their lips meeting in a soft, slow kiss, a kiss brimming with unspoken promises and shared emotions.

It was different than others; it was a start of something more deep. In the delicate pressure of their lips, everything they had ever felt for each other was expressed without a single syllable, their hearts speaking the language that only they understood.

There was no more cold or snow—only the heat of their bodies pressed together, the rhythmic beating of their hearts in sync, and the gentle intertwining of their souls.

In the end, they pulled away; not because they wanted to, but because the air had become essential, because their hearts needed a moment to calm, despite the urge to stay lost in each other.

“Happy New Year,” she whispered, as he responded with a smile, his hand reaching up to caress her face again.

“Happy New Year, my love,” he murmured in return, his voice low, only for her to hear.

“Percy?” she sniffled.

“Yes?”

”Would you be my lover?”

“I already am,” he leaned forward, pressing a soft peck to her lips. “Since the first day, until the stars fade.”

I CRIED WRITING THIS GOD i think it's so cute. seriously, i want apologize again for disappearing like that, out of nowhere. i feel much better now and wanted to come back with something special. i hope you liked it! also, this doesn’t mean the series is over, they are my babies, and if i have to write about the 70 years they will spend together in my heart, i will do it!

#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #pjo x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackon and the olympians #fanfic #my writing #percy jackson imagines

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little-jana · 6 days ago

Text

"Unraveling Him"

Pairing: Spencer Reid x bimbo!reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: kissing, touching, some tension, use of Y/N, reader has long hair and wears a skirt

Words: 2.4k

Summary: Bimbo!reader just loves to flirt with Spencer.

I could feel Spencer’s eyes on me, and I couldn’t help the small smirk that tugged at the corners of my lips. He was standing at his desk, his brows furrowed as he read through the case files—his usual ‘deep thinker’ mode. It was kind of cute, honestly. But then again, everything Spencer did was cute. In my opinion, he was just too cute. And I loved teasing him.

I adjusted my pencil skirt and fluffed my hair, catching his eye for a moment. My smile was wide, my eyes twinkling with mischief, and I could practically feel him getting flustered. It wasn’t hard. He was so easy to tease, always so polite, always so reserved. And it only made me want to do it more.

“Spencer,” I called, trying to sound casual as I crossed the bullpen. “You’re awfully quiet today.”

He blinked and looked up from his files, his eyes widening a bit when they landed on me. His lips parted slightly, and I could swear I saw a flash of something in his eyes—something… more. Maybe I wasn’t the only one feeling the heat between us.

“Just, uh, working through the case,” he replied, his voice a little raspy, like he hadn’t expected me to show up so close. He cleared his throat and straightened, running a hand through his hair. “What’s up?”

I walked closer, stopping just a little too near for normal office conversation. I could feel the tension between us immediately. The air was charged, crackling with something neither of us had addressed yet.

“You seem tense,” I said with a playful glint in my eyes. “Have you been working too hard?”

Spencer shifted uncomfortably, his eyes flicking over me. He cleared his throat again. “I’m fine, Y/N. Just… focusing.”

I laughed lightly, throwing my head back in a way I knew would draw his attention to the movement of my chest. “Oh, I’m sure you are, but maybe you need a little break?” I slid my hand onto the back of his chair, leaning forward just enough to invade his personal space. “Maybe I could help you relax?”

He shifted again, biting his lower lip as though he were fighting an internal battle. His voice was quieter now, like he didn’t want anyone to overhear. “I—uh, really should get this case done…” He trailed off, his eyes flicking from my face to my body before returning to my eyes.

I wasn’t about to let him off the hook that easily. I knew he liked me. It was obvious in the way he looked at me when he thought no one was paying attention. So, I pressed a little more. “Spencer, you work so hard,” I said, my tone teasing, almost innocent, but dripping with something else. “You deserve to take a break. Or maybe… maybe you just need some company to unwind?” I leaned closer, my lips only inches from his ear, and whispered, “I could give you some… personal attention, if you want.”

His eyes widened, and I could see the struggle on his face. Spencer Reid was usually the type of guy who liked to keep things professional. I knew it. But damn, did he look good when he was flustered.

“I-I don’t think that’s—uh, we should…” He stammered, a rare vulnerability in his voice.

I smiled, loving how easily I could make him flustered. His discomfort was almost as sweet as the way he looked at me when he thought I wasn’t paying attention.

“Oh, Spencer,” I said softly, resting my hand on his shoulder, letting my touch linger a little longer than necessary. “You don’t have to pretend like you don’t want it.”

He turned his head toward me, his lips just barely brushing against mine as he glanced away. It was like the tension between us was palpable now, thick and suffocating. He wanted me—I knew he did—but he wasn’t sure how to handle it. He wasn’t used to this kind of attention.

“You don’t have to tease me, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice lower than before, his eyes finally locking onto mine. “I’m not… I’m not sure how to react.”

I took a step back, feigning innocence despite the sultry energy that lingered in the air. “I’m just having a little fun, Spencer. Can’t I have some fun?” I tilted my head, my hair spilling over my shoulder. “Or are you telling me that you don’t want me to tease you?”

His eyes flickered with indecision for a moment, his hand gripping the edge of his desk as though it were the only thing holding him back from crossing that line we had danced around for weeks. His lips pressed together, a hint of tension in his jaw. “I don’t…” He swallowed, and it was almost as if the words were stuck in his throat.

But I could see it now. He wanted this. He might be fighting it, but he wanted it. And that was all the encouragement I needed.

“Well, I think you do want it, Spencer,” I said with a coy smile. “You’ve been looking at me like that for days. It’s cute, really.”

His face flushed a little, and he leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. “I—uh, maybe I do,” he confessed quietly. “I just don’t know how to handle it, Y/N.”

I leaned closer again, placing my hand on his arm. My fingers traced the sleeve of his shirt, the light touch sending a shiver through me as well. “I don’t bite, Spencer,” I said softly. “Not unless you ask me to.”

His breath hitched at my words, and for a second, I saw something dangerous flash in his eyes. There was that moment of hesitation, that pause between us where neither of us could move, trapped in the tension we had created. His hand was still on the desk, but now it was clenched into a fist, his knuckles white.

And then, as if something snapped between us, he stood up suddenly, moving around the desk. His gaze was intent on me now, and the distance between us vanished. Before I could say anything, his hand gripped my wrist, pulling me gently but firmly toward him. My breath caught in my throat.

“I’ve been trying to keep my distance,” he muttered, his voice rougher than before. “But it’s hard when you do this to me.”

I looked up at him, heart pounding in my chest. “Spencer, what are you—”

Before I could finish my sentence, his lips were on mine. The kiss was urgent, full of the desire that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long. His hands were on my back, pulling me closer to him as the world outside of us seemed to disappear.

I wasn’t sure who deepened the kiss first—maybe it was me, or maybe it was him—but either way, we couldn’t stop. The kiss was a release, like the tension had finally broken. I could feel the heat of his body, the way his chest pressed against mine. His hand tangled in my hair, tugging me closer.

When we finally pulled away, both of us breathless, I smiled softly. “See? Was that so bad?”

Spencer’s chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath. He looked down at me, his eyes dark with desire, but there was something else there too—relief. Like he had been holding back for too long, and now that he didn’t have to anymore, it was all he could do to keep his hands from wandering.

“You have no idea what you’ve done to me, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

I grinned up at him, feeling a rush of excitement and satisfaction. “I think I’ve got a pretty good idea, Spencer.”

He chuckled softly, but his gaze remained intense. “You might have just broken me.”

I giggled, pressing my fingers to his lips to silence him. "No, you’re perfect."

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds one shot #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer #matthew gray gubler #fluff #cm

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