#Also putting this in tags this time just because I literally get so nervous about it. I'm not an.tikin/anti selfship it's just a boundary | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ch4nb4ng · 1 year

Text

Marital Duties

Pairing: Chan x afab!reader

Word count: 9.4k

Genre: Established relationship, married

Warning: SMUT (18+ only), phone sex, sexting, car sex, mention of boobs, oral sex (f. receving), penetration, swearing, mention of cum, mentions of pussy, kissing, praise

Note: ok i kinda nervous to post this but yas! Here is my inspo (here) (here) (here) warning it’s literally p word.

Tagged: @seo--changbin @j-0ne25 @cb97whoree @kpopsstuffs

Summary: Having a job that meant travelling and spending time away from your husband made the absence grow much fonder for you and your needs, as well as your husbands.

Work conferences were the bane of your existence. Yes you were away from your kid and sometimes it was hard, but being away from your husband was harder. There was no doubt about your job. Being a world renowned forensic psychologist was amazing and something you wanted for a long time. Sometimes though, it was nice to just curl up on the couch, read a good book, watch a comforting movie; there was nothing wrong with indulging in self-care, you just did not have the time to do so.

The recent promotion into becoming head of the north-west region of mental health care was a big step up from your previous job. No one than you was more qualified for this. Everyone, colleagues and board members put your name up. Psychology was your life, but your family was bigger.

Highschool sweethearts, you and your husband had been inseparable since what felt like the dawn of time. Meeting at 15, having your first dance at 17 at prom. Graduating and going to college together; If you had a dollar for everytime you accomplished a big milestone with him or because of him, you would be swimming in luxury. When the two of you got married, things just fell into place even more. The doubt of being able to help people mentally after graduating from your post grad made you nervous, but then again, you never thought that you would be married to such a wonderful man. A dream job at your local hospital fell into your lap, and your husband became the nurse that everybody wanted to assist them with their care. Working in close contact with him everyday was just another blessing in disguise; you simply could not get enough of him. It was impossible to get sick of him.

That was when you decided to have your first child. What could be a better mix than the two of you combined? The first 4 years of parenthood came with its challenges. Nevertheless, it was the best decision you ever made, and you couldn’t think of anyone better than to share the unfamiliar journey with.

The promotion, however, meant that you wouldn't work with your husband as much, and spending time with your daughter was a little limited, but you knew he would never tell you to turn something down, and in a way it was the best decision for your marriage. The times together were shorter, but it also meant that every moment was savored tenfold. The time was better quality, the acts of service more thoughtful, and the sex. The sex, was that much more passionate, just like the first time he made love to you. He would always find ways to surprise you. Whether it was the way he grasped, grabbed you on the fibers that lingered to be touched, the way his body pressed upon yours, lips lingering on new places. You were always amazed with how much he could do, and what he was capable of.

These are the ideas that tortured your mind when you were away on business trips. Calling him and hearing his voice, seeing his face through the tiny phone screen was not enough. It didn’t matter how long you had been together, you always craved and missed him significantly.

“Hang on,” he whispered through the phone speaker, “someone wants to say hi to you.”

Your heart beamed with joy every time you saw her little face on the screen. God she looked like her dad, and you knew she'd grow up to be a beautiful woman.

“Hi mommy,” she giggled, fingers crinkling then uncrkinly as she waved at the camera, “I miss you mommy.”

“Aw baby,” you pouted, “I miss you too. Mommy will be home tomorrow. Now it’s time for you to sleep.”

“Yes,” he cooed, “and daddy is going to read you a bedtime after you say goodnight to mommy.”

Your baby squealed with joy, running out of the frame and to her room. You could do nothing but chuckles, careless that she was that excited over a book of words that she forgot to say goodnight.

“Let me call you back at 15.”

You nodded, pressing the red cross before rolling on your back and looking up at the ceiling, admiring the off white paint color, heart beating out of your chest every second that the callback was not made. It’s not that you were worried he wouldn’t call back, you just felt that longing you always did when you weren’t looking at him.

The vibration on your chest was extra sensitive. You rolled back over, now lying on your front with your hand resting on your chin, other hand holding the phone as you answered.

“Hey baby.”

“Hiiii,” you whispered, a smile on your face impossible to be rid of.

“She was out like a light.”

“I’m glad.”

“How was your day, baby? I want to hear all about it.”

You giggled as you saw him get up, walking into the bathroom of your house as he placed you against the bench next to the sink. Chan wasn’t shy. He thought it was completely normal to remove his scrubs and leave his upper body bare as he bent down to the bottom drawer, taking out his skincare and placing it on his face. Chan was your husband. You had seen him shirtless 100 more times than you could count. It should not affect you this much. It should not make the temperature of your cheeks rise. It should not cause a sudden sharpness of change in your breath. It should not make your eyes bulge, and it should definitely not send you into a head spin when his biceps flexed when washing his face. Being a clinical psychologist meant having pristine precision and concentration, so if anybody got a hold of this live footage right now, they might question your profession.

“Y/n, Y/n?”

You blinked, quickly snapping your head to get back in the game. It was too late, however, your husband was already smirking at your distraction. You could try and play it off, but the both of you knew that he was too smart to fall for that.

“Sorry babe, I’m a bit distracted.”

“Oh yeah? What’s distracting you?”

“Oh please,” you scoffed, “you know exactly what you are doing.”

“Me?” He gasped, placing a hand on his chest, flexing his opposite bicep, “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his obvious attempt to woo you over, the subtle flirt. Sometimes it was easy to resist, but in this case, it was easier to play along, feign innocence until he truly told you what he wanted. The two of you liked to play such games, especially when you were on the road. It was time for you to sit up, placing Chan on the lamp atop of the bedside table before placing yourself on the edge of the hotel bed. The buttons on your shirt were suddenly feeling a little tight. The smirk on your husband’s face grew the moment he saw the first two buttons undone, a sneak peak of your cleavage making its debut for the night. You stopped there, gently pulling down the fabric, stretching the collar of the shirt, consequently putting your chest on full display.

“Two can play that game Mr. Bang.”

A deep chuckle escaped his lips as he walked over to your shared bedroom, placing his phone in similar fashion to yours before removing his bottoms, your husband now in nothing but his boxers as he laid down, stretching out his legs before lifting you again, wanting the closest view to your fingers continuing to remove one button at a time, a painfully slow movement to your fingertips. Fuck. Now he kind of regretted starting this game with you tonight. A gasp of gratification spilt from Chan’s lips as he watched the satin material that made up your shirt slither off those, in his words, gorgeous shoulders of yours. The black lace bra, the one being your husband’s favorites out of pure coincidence the only garment covering your chest.

Chan loved every part of you, make no mistake. He would worship every part of your body 24/7 if he could. He simply could never get enough of you, but your chest, your breasts were on a whole different level. Chan loved your boobs. It didn’t matter what the two of you were doing, promiscuous acts or not, if he could have his hands on them, he could. Cuddling, sex, hugs; call him a pervert, but he didn’t care. It was his wife for god sakes. He would feel abnormal if he wasn’t attracted to them. Conveniently for you, this was something you could play to your advantage. Didn’t want to do the dishes? Show him your cleavage. Needed to put your daughter to sleep but you wanted him to do it? Promise him to show your cleavage after he does so. It was a convenient weapon to use, and this was the perfect time to use it. It was fair, seeing as he was using the weapon of his own to try and get you where he wanted.

“Aw come on,” he whined, “you did that on purpose?”

“Did what,” you smiled, fingers gently tracing the lace attached to the strap, “I didn’t do anything.”

Tapping the phone screen, you sighed. It was like, and your flight home was something that required you getting up much earlier that you would ever prefer. You should go to sleep. Hang up on him. You were going to see him tomorrow anyway, surely you could suppress your urges until then.

But then you saw your husband redirect his palm from the outside of his undergarment, which was obvious to the eye, to the inside, a gentle slap against his skin as it dived past the waist band. Fuck this was cruel now. Not only because you could see his hands subtly tumbling underneath, he drew attention to how hard he already was, and you didn’t know what aroused you more: his probaby pulsating length or the fact that he was as aroused as he was because of you. It didn’t matter how many times it occurred, Chan always had a way of making you feel special. Physically, emotionally, intimately; it was part of his aura, and one of the main reasons that you were so attracted to him in the first place.

“Baby,” you gasped, hands traveling up waist and to your chest, gently kneading the mass in an attempt to match his slow pace that he was palming himself, “you’re so naughty. I have to go to bed.”

“Aw come on baby,” he groaned, head resting atop the headboard, gaze even more piercing at the angle his head was at rest, “I haven’t seen you all week.”

“I know Chan,” you sighed, your next words going to be knowingly disappointing for him, “I have to check out at 3am and it’s already almost 10. You know what I’m like when I don't get my beauty sleep.”

Chan gave you a disapproving pout as he took his hands out of boxers, a shiny ring reappearing from the undergarment as he took the phone with both and lay flat on his back, sinking under the sheets and head gliding onto the pillow. He was humbly accepting defeat, most likely because he would see you tomorrow anyway; that’s when he could have his fun.

“I know baby it’s ok,” he smiled, bringing his face as close as possible to the camera, lips still pouting, “let me give you a kiss goodnight.”

“Thank you baby,” you giggled, also leaning forward to kiss the phone screen simultaneously before whispering a small, “goodnight.”

It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep, and the adrenaline from your almost raunchy rendezvous over the phone wore off quickly. You weren’t that young anymore. Getting tired was much easier. There was much less energy, especially after getting riled up like that. Even if it was what you saw while you were sleeping in your dreams, and you only have to wait 12 hours to see your beautiful husband in the flesh.

***

The alarm caused a fright, a deep groaning sound of annoyance bellowing from you, but that quickly wore off. The immediate thought of seeing Chan and your beautiful daughter being the main reason for your sudden change in temperament. Your bags were already packed and you organized your brain knowing that you would be too tired to do it in the morning The smile on your face couldnt dared to be wiped off once you were in the taxi. The cool breeze of the warm summer hitting your face as you pushed the window in the back seat halfway down. Summer was your favorite time of the year, especially since it was the time you got to spend with your family that was of the best quality. All of the aspects of your job you loved, even the times you traveled. However, your heart did sink a little when you had to travel at this time of the year. The school holidays always felt too short, so when you had to travel, the amount was even shorter.

A ding from your phone brought out of your somewhat solemn daze, heat creeping to your cheeks immediately:

[hubby <3] 7:00 am Can’t wait to see you, hope there aren't any delays at the airport.

*one attachment*

Jesus fuck. Now sending a full blown dick pick with your daughter in the car, which you assumed was there, was definitely not the way to go; and thank god your husband knew that. But that did not let him off the hook. It was a photo of him, in the mirror, with his face cut off and only his lips in the frame. He was wearing a black sleeveless tank and those fucking grey tracksuit pants. Call yourself cliche, but nothing turned you on more than that particular piece of clothing. Chan had one hand on the camera, the other hand at the base of his hardened length. He always did this. As mature as Chan was, the times he chose to be inappropriate truly were the most inconvenient for you. A loud gasp escaped your lips, head almost hitting the chair in front as the driver came to a halt.

“Everything okay back there?”

“Uh yes,” your head snapped towards him, nodding furiously as a terrible attempt at acting in the norm, “why did we stop?”

“We are at the airport, miss?”

His tone sounded one of question, kind of looking at you in the rear mirror like you were one of the strangest passengers he had. You looked outside, a ferocious laugh escaping your lips as you decided it was better to say nothing and just pay, get out, and grab your own luggage. The awkwardness left your mind in shambles. How dare he send such a photo. Your husband. It was most likely to get revenge from last night, because he knew you would have to sit on the plane and suffer in silence.

Your luggage was checked in quickly, security easy to get through; there was plenty of time to wait in the boarding lounge. At first you were annoyed by the message. The sexual frustration that had already accumulated from your absence away from him was enough, but if anything, it felt like this was an extra punishment for last night.

But then you opened it again, started analyzing it (if you could call it that) until your finger was subconsciously in your mouth. It didn’t matter how many times you looked at him, your husband, he was always going to do it for you, every single time. The ache that has been coming and going throughout the week returned, and it made you annoyed. So annoyed that you found yourself lifting your butt from your chair, walking to the bathroom and locking yourself in one of the stalls. Gripping the bottom of your shirt, you pulled it down as much as you could without taking it off, mimicking a downward looking angle in an attempt to copy your husband, lips down as the camera clicked, off silent. Fuck. It’s fine. The idea that people may have heard the sounds of you taking a photo in the toilet. You were too fueled with a horny rage to think of the ramifications as you sent your photo, giving in and responding to him.

[Y/N] 8:30am No delays. Make sure you’re there on time.

*one attachment*

Oh, he was gonna hate that. Chan had patience for a lot of things. But short, dry messages were something that made him mad. Serves him for sending you that first. You knew exactly what his reaction would be as well, but at least you could board the plane in peace.

It was around 3 hours before the plane arose from one location and landed in another. The plane ride was painful. You tried to do the things you usually would. Create drafts for your patients, read a book, watch a downloaded netflix movie, and just sink into your non-reclining chair and relax; but you simply couldn’t.

The brain rot that was the simple image of your husband’s half naked torso should not be affecting you this much. But that was the problem too. It wasn’t just the picture. That image was the catalyst for the sexual rumination that had been numbing your brain for the past week. The want to get home was even stronger now knowing that you really had something to look forward to.

Of course, to your dismay and longing, the baggage claim took forever, security had a long line, and by the time all of that had been completed, it was, of course, an hour schedule that you told your husband to come and pick you up. The look on his face was sour to say the least. There he was, leaning against the exterior of your shared four wheel drive, drinking his probably now lukewarm coffee. The tingle instantly came back to your core, feeling like a teenage girl again. The scene was just like old times. Chan, waiting around the corner from your house to come and pick you up. The only thing that was different was that it was slightly taller, and had a few more wrinkles. Nonetheless, he looked super hot. Still wearing those grey sweatpants, and a fucking black tank. A fucking blank tank that was probably the tightest fitting pieceing of clothing in his fucking closet. His stance was strong, biceps, triceps, and ¾ of his pecs bulging out in public, and it was truly making your brain dizzy. You walked over quietly, the jarring sound of your suitcase wheels rolling along the parking lot concrete ruining the suspense of your arrival. Chan’s head snapped, eye widening the moment you appeared in his vision.

“Hi baby, sorry I’m late the customs took for-”

The interruption was welcome as Chan shoved his phone in his pocket, apparently with an empty takeaway coffee cup falling to the floor as he enveloped you into his arms, a groan of admiration falling from his lips as they immediately attached to yours, your body to relaxing against his, eyes fluttering shut at his touch. God, it was only a week. One week, but you craved his touch more than anything in the world. It truly was the little things such as his calloused textures, the warmth of his skin, his smile. Holy fuck his smile was, in your opinion, the greatest thing in the world that ever existed.

“Mmmh,” you hummed, gently pulling away, hands snaking across your husband’s waist, a smug smile on your lips, “I missed you.”

“Missed you too baby,” he growled, morning raspiness to his tone, “how was your flight?”

The implication of his question made your eyes ogle, the visual image of his text message imprinting on your brain. The smirk that developed on his face formed the expression of realization that hit you. Suddenly his grip on your waist was tighter, and Chan was pulling you in even closer, leaving you to feel everything; yes, everything.

“It was good,” you giggled, knowing that you had been caught, “what was not good was your behavior since last night.”

“Hmm is that so? I don't see this being a one-sided activity?”

Your right hand left his torso, smacking him on the chest before taking a step back and walking to the car. It was fun to pretend to be annoyed, especially because you knew it would work your husband up even more. Chan hated when you sulked, especially when he playfully called you out. Chan always liked games, and so did you, because you knew that there was always one thing it would lead to. The longer the game went on, the more passionate the ending to this game would be. You walked into the car, peacefully sitting in the passenger seat as you left your husband to take your suitcase and place it in the boot. Serves him right for being a smartass. There was no sound except for the car door once the two of you were inside. The ignition was turned on, and so were you, watching your husband's arm reach over to the shoulder of your car seat, his head turned to look behind him. This was so dumb! You really should not be aroused by this; you’ve seen him do this thousands of times.

“You okay babe?”

You shook your head, snapping yourself out of this lustful daze, “yeah, why?”

“Ok it’s just,” he paused, shifting into drive, then placing his hand on the inside of your thigh, “you’re staring at me like a piece of meat.”

“I am not,” you scoffed, “you wish I was staring at you like that.”

He said nothing, a light chuckle following as the car fell into another silence. A comfortable one at that, well, to an extent. His thumb was gently nudging at your skin, knuckles inching closer to your center. There was something in the air, and the longer it lingered, the harder it was to ignore it. The want. The need to have him. It was impossible. You knew that even if you did get home soon that your daughter was home, and there was no way you were going to traumatize her like that; kids remember everything. If you took too long in the car, your father would get suspicious. He was one to get on your nerves like that, especially if he spent more time than agreed to watching your beautiful child.

“I got your text message this morning.”

Chan’s eyes were on the road, which forced you to keep yours. Your eyebrows furrowed however, knowing that the street he just turned down was not the right way to your house. Instead, Chan turned the opposite direction, the car coming to an immediate stop at a lookout, but not just any lookout. The lookout east. The two of you came from a small town, meaning there weren't many spots to go; that was until the lookout east was uncovered. Back then it was the talk of the town, the go to hookup spot for many. You have seen it yourself. It had a beautiful view however, and most of the time you and Chan would go just to admire the view, but did not mean that every time would be an innocent one. The two of you had not been in years, and there was a big question mark as to why you were here right now. Chan said nothing, getting out of the car and walking over to your side, opening your own door before opening the back door, crawling in with you following. The two of you got comfortable, that was, until Chan pinned you down to the back seat, lips once again attacking yours as he pressed his horny groin into yours, a deep groan bellowing from your husband's chest. His dominance was easy to comply with, the desperate moan falling from your lips a culmination of feelings from the past 12 hours. This really could have been the horniest you have ever been in your whole entire life, even including the times of excessive sexual hormonal changes during pregnancy. His tongue snaked past your lips, without any slight of permission as his hips fell into a gentle rhythm. Chan moved with such delicacy and poise, yet somehow he was able to convey his ultra high level of arousal. Now you were in big trouble; it was serious business when Chan pinned you down like that. It meant he had serious business to take care of.

“Chan,” you tried to speak, his lips interrupting each word, “what, are you doing?”

He pulled away, sitting up. Chan said nothing, eyes fixated on your chest as he grasped your wrist to pull you up, your body clumsily falling into him as you fixed your balance. Chan was quick to attack your lips again, hands making light work as they gripped onto the edge of your shirt. Your arms lifted unconsciously, allowing the kiss to break as he took off your shirt, your upper body in nothing but your undergarments. Your husband was like a kid in a candy store the moment he saw the slightest bit of cleavage. Chan’s arms wrapped around your back as he effortlessly unclasped the unwanted fabric, lips immediately attaching to your left nipple. A gracious moan fell from your lips, a hand tickling the back of the hair at the base of his skull, keeping a guidance. At first this tongue was small, gentle. A few kitty licks right in the center. Although it was minimal touch, you were one to have more sensitive nipples, so the feeling was already heaven enough. It wasn’t until his entire mouth was attached, a parietal noise of vacuum escaping his lips each time your tit went in and out of his mouth.

“Mmmmm,” you hummed, back arching slightly at the subtle texture of his teeth, “you’re like fuckin newborn.”

“Mhh can’t help it,” he huffed, out of breath, hand replacing his lips for a brief moment, “makes me want to have another kid.”

Chan gave you no time to reply, lips resuming their position, but now on the opposite nipple. His fingers never stopped moving, either on your shoulder, running up and down your arms, but mainly on your breasts, doing whatever he can to feel you. Each squeeze of the mound brought a whine to your throat. His statement ran through your mind and just stayed there. Having another kid was not really something the two of you had ever spoken about. It wasn’t that it was off the table, no. It truly was just something that had not come up in conversation. You could understand why he wanted to have one, and in this moment especially, it had nothing to do with having an actual child.

It is true that when you met your husband, your body shape resembled more of a P, but when you were pregnant with your daughter, Chan was on another planet. Any chance he got, his hands were on them. Call him twisted, but he loved how much bigger and softer they got when you were deep into pregnancy.

When you came back out of thought, and the major distraction of your husband's lips on your body, you pushed him away gently. You followed the sort of harsh motion with a gentle peck to his lips, arm wrapping around his neck as you smiled at him in disbelief. The last chance the two of you, well more him, had been so reckless like this was so long ago you would not even be able to recall. This didn’t mean you hated it though, if anything, it satisfied that little part of your adolescence that lingered. The adolescence that was always sparked whenever you were away. Whenever your calls turned to a lustful space. The photos. The phone calls. Usually the ‘rebellious’ behaviors were to compensate for the distance. But now, Chan was hungry for you, even when you were right in front of him.

“Babe, what has gotten into you?”

Your husband buried his face into your chest, a large breath filling his nostrils, your scent deeply satisfying him before he responded.

“I just missed you a lot, baby. And that picture you sent drove me fucking wild.”

A smirk appeared on your lips, legs hovering over your husband's waist before encasing the lower limbs around his waist, a light amount of friction created by the swift move of your hips makes him hum in pleasure. Your eyes, now sitting on top of his lap, gazed over, looking down on the poor man. There was a slight emotion of guilt there. Depriving him of getting what he wanted. You didn't really care though. If anything, pissing him off usually led to better sex after, and there was nothing in this moment that you wanted more.

“Mmmh, as much as I want this,” you mumbled, another soft kiss in between your sentences, “I need to go home and see my daughter which I have not seen in a week.”

“You’re right,” Chan chuckled, “I am getting a little bit carried away, aren't I?”

Yeah he was impatient, but he understood, and it was one thing you really loved about him. He was extremely empathetic, sometimes to a fault. Able to put himself in everyone else’s shoes. So as soon as you mentioned wanting to see your daughter more, he understood. He passed you your bra and shirt, quickly helping you put them back on, not without stealing another mouth watering kiss, and hopping back into the driving and passenger seat promptly.

The drive was once again peaceful; which lasted around 30 seconds. Maybe it was a better idea to just fuck in the back of your car, because the ache between your legs, when reflecting on the past week, was at the most intense it had been. Maybe this was your karma for withholding your body from your very eager husband. It didn’t matter now because whether you liked it or not, all of this was going to have been scheduled at a much later, uncertain time.

Chan’s hand was placed on your thigh like before, the light background and the noise somewhat distracting you, but not for long. Your husband’s grip was getting stronger and stronger, inching closer and closer to your wanting pussy with each second. A sharp gasp left your lips when his middle finger traced over the hem of your jeans, your level of arousal heightened to the point where even the breeze most likely was enough to partly satisfy yourself.

“Chan.”

“Y/n.”

“Stop it,” you whined, fingers coincidentally fidgeting with the button of your jeans, following the same direction with your zipper before the pair of pants were below your waist, your bottom undergarments now on display. You looked down, embarrassed at the mass wet patch coating your panties. Your husband's hands took a little bit of a wander, but froze almost immediately when he felt that familiar patch he had felt oh so many times. The digits were quick to act, another moan spelling from your mouth as soon as he got you in the exact spot he knew to touch. That were the perks of having a husband, because whether the time of orgasm was long or short, he knew exactly where to touch you to make that happen.

“Your body is having the opposite reaction,” he smirked, “and my eyes are strictly on the road.”

“And keep it that way.”

“Mhmm,” he ignored, fingers somehow able to push your panties to the side, raw fingertips now spreading open those pussy lips. God you felt dirty, nasty. How could you do this in your fucking car? Too horny to even wait until you were in the comfort of your bedroom. You were much too harsh on yourself. It was most definitely your husband's fault for opening that can of worms the moment he rocked up on the facetime camera without his shirt on. Therefore, your humility was minimized, there were always much worse things you could have done. Chan was easily able to find that wanting little entrance of yours, two fingers effortlessly plunging themselves inside, the unsympathetic texture of his hard working fingers gently scratching the velvet interior of your walls, hips now gently rocking back and forth on him. Your hands came to your breasts automatically, pinching, twisting, flicking the sensitive buds in any way possible that could create a replica of Chan’s mouth from previous moments. Fuck, no one else could do you like your husband, even yourself.

“Fuck Chan,” you whimpered, covering your face in embarrassment.

“Shh it’s okay,” he cooed, coaxing you through his honey textured tone, “just let it feel good, worry about other things later.”

Just as you let your head fall against the headrest, eye fluttering shut, the car came to a halt. Eyes flying open, a mound of disappointment when your visual fields were filled with your front yard. To your dismay, your husband withdrew his fingers from your pussy, a large squelching sound in the moment as he placed his hands on the gear shift, placing the toe of your into park before turning the car ignition off. The look you were giving your husband now was one of sadness, despair, making him laugh. He loved when you were dramatic.

“You’re not happy to be home?”

“Shut up,” you huffed, redoing your pants up before storming out of the car, forcing your husband to grab your suitcase as you stood impatiently at the front door, waiting for him to open it. It would be impossible to wipe the puffed up look of content on his face, knowing that he got right under your skin. Games were fun to play, but you simply knew that if he didn’t give you what you wanted soon, the house would fall into chaos. It was one thing to wind you up, but this time it was too far to push through, then stop just when things were getting good.

A fake smile plastered on your face, the refreshing thought of seeing your daughter coming back into your mind as you walked through your abode. It faded however, unable to see or hear anything that resembled your little baby. It wasn’t until you walked down your long hallway that led to your kitchen that you saw the note on your marble bench. It read the following:

Hi Darling, hope you had a safe flight!

I have taken my beautiful granddaughter to the park for a playdate with a couple of her friends and the other available parents.

We are leaving at around midday, and won’t be back for a few couple hours. Apologies you will have to wait a little longer, but I couldn’t say no to her beating eyes when she asked me.

I'll see you when I’m looking at you.

Dad

“Chan!”

Your timbre was loud, somewhat frightening your husband as he rolled your luggage across the floor, meeting you in your shared kitchen. He was kind of worried. Chan knew that your dad was taking care of her while he went to pick you up, but he never said anything about taking her out. He stood next to you, trying to analyze your expressions before you spoke. You missed your daughter a lot, there was nothing false about that statement. Nonetheless, when the smug look came to your face at the thought of what having an empty house implied, you couldn't help yourself.

“Did you know that my dad took her to the park?”

Oh fuck. Chan thought he was in trouble; big big trouble.

You bit down on your bottom lip, trying to suppress your smile at how hopeless he looked. Being the medical professional you were, it was easy to read your husband like a book. And after his actions, which were already on the verge of crossing the threshold of what you would put up with, he was in his every right mind to react this way. Walking on eggshells was the right way to go. From his friskiness on the phone, to sending an almost naked picture to you in public, to publicly groping and prodding at your highly aroused body in the discomfort of your car, to now delaying your reunion with his daughter; my my my did he dig himself a massive grave that he would not be able to dig himself out of this one.

“No,” he answered, hesitance leaking from his tone, “she must have asked him after I left.”

“Right,” you paddled, handing the note your dad had left to your husband. A sigh of relief in the form of his chest falling from the fat breath he sucked in before dissipating from his chest. Taking a step close, your husband ignored, focusing all his efforts on the written material until he felt the texture of what was your fingertips find a place on his torso, index fingers ‘accidentally’ finding a way underneath the hem of the thin material that made up his shirt. The note was removed from your husband’s face in the form of a toss with his own hand, eyes piercing into yours the more and more the skin of his torso was being exposed to the light. Your palms then became a part of the conversation, gently pressing against your husband's groin as you could feel his length awake from a light slumber.

“Why am I sensing that you’re not mad now?”

“Me,” You gasped, feigning ignorance as you finally pulled the flimsy material over your husband’s head, “I was never mad?”

“You weren’t?”

“No Mr. Bang,” you giggled, wrapping your hands around your husband’s neck once more, “Mad that you have been teasing me for almost 24 hours straight?”

Chan didn’t answer, instead sweeping your legs off the floor and into your arms, carrying your bridal style back down the said hallway, bedroom door conveniently already open as he laid you down on your back. A hum of happiness fell from your lips at the familiar feeling of your own bed sheets encompassing your back. You were brought out of those thoughts quickly however, your husband left you little to revel in bed texture, removing his sweats immediately before lifting you by the armpits again, leaving you to stand and him sitting on the edge of your shared mattress. The invitation of your barely dressed husband with a pressing erection straining his boxers was a very enticing seat. One that you took without a second thought as his hands were straight for your throat, a gentle squeeze as your lips connected first, legs cloaking his waist once more, the both of your tongues fighting for dominance over each other. Chan’s mouth vibrated as he relaxed into the sensual nature of the kiss, hands drifting away from your upper body and right to the outside of your thighs, a gentle tingle of fingertips dancing across your heated skin as you pulled away from a brief moment, wanting to match at least half of his body in the lack of clothing. Your husband helped as he withdrew his hands from your body for a brief moment, deciding to, rather than pull your nice shirt over your head like a normal person, he pulled the seams apart, splitting the shirt into two before using one hand only to unclasp your bra this time. It would be a lie if you said you weren’t impressed by it everytime.

“I liked that shirt,” you pouted, “did you have to rip it?” “I’m sorry y/n,” he chuckled, hands snaking up your sides another time, “I just want you so badly.”

There was no time to react as your husband gripped your hips, spinning you around and pinning you into the mattress. His second attack followed impeccably, hands fumbling on your jeans before getting them undone, panties groped in unison as they hit the side wall. That was an irrelevant detail, because Chan was lying on his front, abs rubbing against your core as he brought his hands back to your tits; his most favorite thing in the world. The man could not keep his hands still, mouth slobbering all over the sensitive skin as he began his second attack of the day on your nipples.

“Never gets old,” you giggle, a gentle moan following after at the contrast of your flimsy mounds and rock hard nubs. Chan’s hands felt like no other, and when he had them on you, it was the time when you felt like the luckiest woman in the world. Your husband’s chuckles followed closely to yours. Seeing his wife happy was one thing, but knowing that he could make you feel this good aroused him to another level. His admiration deepend, yes, but it was somewhat of an ego boost for him. Knowing that he was that good with his fingers.

Your husband’s lips, like his hands, began to wander, a strip of wet kisses trailing down the center of your stomach, causing him to crawl back further and further until his lips were just above your core. Chan brought his fingers right back to where he had them in the car, easily able to slip in two fingers without warning, a deep groan gritting his teeth at the way your back arched for him monumentally. The sight was one that he had been craving, one that you craved yourself. It did not matter how far apart you were from your husband, his appetite for you would never change. If he wanted to be close, he wanted to be close. If he wanted to be far, well that was just simply not plausible. As much as he wanted to pleasure you, make you feel good, like the diligent role of a husband should be, it was the closeness that motivated him every time. Chan longed for these moments, especially since the introduction of your daughter restricted the ability to do so. At any possible moment, Chan would demand to do whatever he could to profess his love, and it was always done with his mouth; his tongue to be more specific.

In this scenario, rather than speaking with tongue, it was sticking out of your husband’s lips, flattening as he dived in head first without hesitation, your hands automatically rummaging through the thick mound of curls that supported the top of his head. His tongue was heaven, spreading your pussy lips farther and farther apart and he used that ferocious organ to fiercely suck on your wanting nub. A monstrous moan escaped your lips at the contact, a gratifying humm coming from his throat at the way you tugged on his locks. Your eyes were barely open, unable to prevent yourself letting your eyelids dance back and forth from open to shut, mesmerized at the current view you had when hunching your neck to see. Chan could see the way you were desperate to view his fulfilling prophecy that was going down on his wife, making sure to lay his chest flat on your bed, ejecting his fingers from your cunt and hooking each forearm around each leg, compressing them into the mattress, giving you the perfect perspective of the combination that was his lips and tongue simultaneously pleasuring your aching core. If this was going to be the result after pining for each other for around 12 hours only, you would never think about it twice.

“I love being married,” you whined, another humorous hum escaping your husband’s lips, “tongue feels so good.”

“Mmmh,” he mumbled, half of his face muffled in your pussy, “you taste so good.”

“What was that?”

He took away his tongue for a brief moment, looking you deep in the eye before repeating his statement.

“You taste so good.”

He didn’t want to take much time away from making you, his wife, feel good, let alone waste his breath on 3 words. His tongue snaked across your inner thigh, the organ licking a gentle strip up each leg before descending back onto your gushing pussy. The smile on your face at his works was impossible to wipe off, your moans through the pearly whites getting louder and louder at the same time with your core, the accumulation of your slick and Chan’s oral fluids contributing to the squelching sound that was bringing you closer and closer to peak arousal. His lust was simply one of trance and dedication. It genuinely could not be explained enough how much he loved seeing you like this, knowing that he was the one that was doing so. Your lips contorted, unable to keep the smile as your bite down on the skin below your bottom lip, harsh enough to leave a line of marks before you were sitting up, hands leaving his hair and dominating his face, palms spread across either side before pressing a kiss to his lips. Your nose crinkled, easily identifying the taste of you on his tongue before giving him one last look, eyes completely open as you crawled backwards on your elbows, left index fingers curling in a come hither motion. The invitation was simply too divine to resist. Your husband turned into a predator, jumping on top of you like he had just caught his prey. His moves were delicate, making sure to not crush you underneath him. His lips were itching to be on yours again, and the feelings were returned, tongue automatically parting his lips and dipping inside his wanting mouth as his hands left your figure for a brief moment, slipping the thin material down his legs and over his feet, fingertips, like magnets to his wife’s skin, straight back onto you. Your own hands were now back on your husband's body, fingernails digging into the large mound of muscles that was his upper back as his fully erect length pressed against your heat. A moan slipped out of your mouth and straight into his, causing him to pull away.

“Fuck you really missed me, didn’t you?”

His smirk was fucking priceless. So annoying, but it would just be a flat out lie if you said you were not attracted to it in the slightest. Cocky did not look good on most people, but it 100% suited your husband. Your nails buried themselves deeper into his flesh at his statement, a poor attempt at humbling him in the slightest as another moan fell from your lips as he began slightly rocking back and forth, the tip of his pre-cum soaked tip hitting your extremely sensitive nub. You went to open your mouth, a failing endeavor of speaking a sentence when the only thing coming out being sounds of pleasure.

“Don’t tease me Mr. Bang,” you mumbled in between each groan, bucking your hips to create a larger friction between your two bodies. Chan was getting impatient himself, but god, did he love to tease you. Your husband had no trouble making you orgasm over and over, he just had displeasure in making you cum so quickly. Your body was sensitive solely to him, even after all these years, it didn’t take much to get you there. Therefore, teasing you made the process so much more enjoyable. Watching you squirm was something that he really enjoyed.

“Hmm Mrs. Bang,” he hummed, lifting his hips off of yours, one hand now wrapped around the base of him, “you’re so cute when you’re all hot and bothered.”

Your eyes formed into a squint, annoyed at how easily he was pinning you down, “stop playing games and fuck me. Preferably today before they get home.”

“Oh fuck,” Chan chuckled, prodding at your pussy hole with his length, “you’re right, let me get to business.”

It was funny when previously mentioned that Chan left to tease and see you squirm, because once his length was comforted by the strength of your tight walls, your husband was a mess. He couldn't help it. Your pussy, after being with you for so many years, molded exactly to the shape and maneuvers that Chan needed. He tried to maintain a slow pace, allowing for your cunt to stretch perfectly around him, wanting you to feel every inch of him; but it simply was too irresistible to resist. Chan wrapped his hands around your ankles, lifting your limbs in the air and stretching them as far as they could go before kneeling on his knees as he began to flat out pound your busy. His pace was not as fast no, by the velocity of the thrusts was truly toe curling. Your jaw dropped to the floor if it could, the bedhead surely denting the walls at the arms as each time his hope made contact with your contact, a large noise resembling a slap occurred. Your husband was usually not as rough, but it’s not that you’re complaining at all. It was rare that he would just throw you around like this, usually if he was frustrated or that you had been away. So really, you should have seen this coming. Maybe it was what provoked you to reply to his lustful text in such a similar manner; whatever you have been doing it was right seeing as he was making your pussy cry with arousal.

Chan’s teeth sunk into your left calf, a string of large huffs and puffs escaping from his chest as he put all his mighty effort into each thrust, your husband breathing heavy at the combination of his force and pleasure he got from fucking you like that. His eyes ogled however, at how easily your tits bounced back and forth.

“Fuck,” you shouted, “s-so rough.”

“You like that?”

“Mhm,” you whimper, keeping your legs in the air as your pulled him by the neck, foreheads accidentally smashing foreheads together with a significant force, “you’re fucking me like you want to put another kid in me.”

“Maybe I do,” he grunted, pressing a kiss to your lips in between, “maybe I should put another kid in you.”

God the way he talks, especially like that, turns you on so much. Your hands now travel back to the familiar spot of his back, pulling his chest against yours as he picked up his pace, thrusts much smoother with rhythm as your eyes fluttered shut, head hitting the back of the pillow ad your husband relentlessly fucked your pussy. A deep breath blew from your lips, an insufficient try to maintain your composure as your husband refused to set a forgiving speed.

“Fuck your pussy,” he growled, unable to finish his sentence.

“Yeah baby?”

“Mine,” he huffed, his own eyes fluttering shut as he pinned your upper limbs next to your head, head dipping down back to your breasts, a ferociously lick on your left nipple before he continued, “Fuck I’ll fuck another fucking child into that fucking pussy if you want me to.”

Chan became a menace when he reached his peak horniness, and during this timeline, that was right now. Anyone who met or knew Chan, as a well-respected friend, colleague, or even a stranger, knew that was one of the most polite people that you could possibly have the pleasure of meeting. Not one to swear, always use his manners and respect other people’s time and values. However, it was only you who got to see the truly feral side of him, like this, cursing his head off. It was only at this point did he forget that facade of a well-mannered gentleman. Chan was certainly not polite or gentlemen like when he fucked you, and it was a guilty pleasure of yours. It always aroused you to hear him say ‘fuck’, mumble a ‘motherfucker’ or ‘shit’ under his breath, even just in normal dialgoue. So when he said it during sex, it truly was one of the hottest fucking things your had ever seen.

“Do it,” you mumbled, unable to use your full voice, “put a kid in me.”

“Really?”

His head snapped up immediately, lips moving back to your own, pecking you one more time, but with his eyebrows raised in surprise, “Are you being serious?”

“Yes,” you smiled, fingertips spreading across your husband’s cheeks, “you have my permission.”

“Oh fuck,” he grumbled, “you really shouldn’t have said that.”

Chan’s hands snuggled under your back, scooping you and placing you up right on him, cock still inside of you as he sat up himself, keeping you close to his torso as he scooched the end of the bed. He let out a groan as he stood up, hands trailing to your hips as began to bounce you. A new level of sound escaped your lips at the new angle he was hitting inside of your pussy. It was smart to keep your arms enclosed around his neck, head buried into his chest as he still managed to keep the same pace. You really didn’t know how much more of this you could handle; the pressure in your body was building. The pit of your stomach was making its way to your final high, and your muscles were tightening in conjunction. The room’s scent was full of sweat, but also passion. Sweet sweet passion and sweet sweet love filled the four nostrils in the room, bringing you even closer to the edge.

“Chan?”

“Y/n, you okay baby?”

“I’m gonna cum baby,” you whined, “I'm gonna cum so hard.”

“Oh me fucking too baby,” he fritted through his jaw breaking teeth clench, “I’m about to blow so fucking hard.”

“Yeah?”

“All in this pussy,” he whined, placing you back down on the bed, “my pussy.”

“Mhm, all yours.”

Your husband kept your back arching off the edge of the bed, making sure that when let go of himself, that nothing but even a drop would drip out of your hole. His hips became erratic; you could tell that your husband would not last much longer. Not that you were far off either, but you know that the release of his seed would tip you over the edge.

“Fuck,” he cursed, hard, “Y/n I’m so sorry I’m gonna cum first.”

“It’s ok,” you whined, “I need your seed inside of me so fucking badly.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” you clenched, eyes dark with lust as he kept his gaze on you, “put a fucking kid in me.”

“I fucking love my fucking wife so much,” he spat, jaw falling agape as his load exploded, the ropes of your husband’s orgasm roping over and over inside of you, “I fucking love you so much.”

“Fuck Chan,” you screamed, your own orgasm washing over and sending you into a haze, “it feels so good inside of me.”

Your whine was so attractive to Chan that he leant down to kiss you one more time, before withdrawing his aching cock, falling to your side in a heavy breath. He was quick to get back into action, however, falling off the bed and grabbing your ankles again, lifting them off the floor and onto the bed, ensuring that not a lick of his load would fall out. A fat giggle escaped from your lips when you watched him do so.

“Fuck you were serious about that kid hey?”

He was already gone, annoyingly leaving you by himself. He was quick to come back however, returning with a glass of water and a banana from the kitchen bench, handing over to you without a second thought. Your lips turned into a smile automatically, practically chugging the water down to quench your thirst before peeling the banana open. Your husband took his spot next to you, lying on his side as he watched you with admiration. All of a sudden you felt self-conscious, hesitating before putting your lips anywhere near the fruit.

“I’m starting to think you got this fruit for a particular reason.”

“No,” he chuckled, “just eat it.”

You looked away from him as your lips ‘accidentally’ slipped down the banana, much past where necessary to take a bite. You could see your husband's jaw clenching out of the corner of your eye as your motion.

“What,” you mumbled, mouth full of food, “you were asking for it.”

“Fuck your lucky that your daughter is going to be home soon.”

#bang chan #bang chan fic #bang chan smut #bang chan scenario #bang chan imagine #bang chan x reader #stray kids fic #stray kids #stray kids smut #stray kids imagine #stray kids scenario #stray kids x reader #ch4nb4ng

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444st4rg1rl · 2 months

Text

Roomies

18+ , 5.5k words

tags : roommate!reader, female!reader, sorta sidekick!reader, roommate!Logan, roommate!Wade, Best Friend!Wade, enemies to lovers, harsh words, very tiny angst, smut, oral sex (f) , unprotected p in v, fingering (f), cursing.

a/n: I couldn’t get this idea out of my head, also small spoilers to Deadpool & Wolverine.

The one where you fucking hate your new roommate, but shit he’s also kinda hot.

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“You think Murdock is willing to take a roommate?

Wade has made himself comfortable in his bed in his room, the one out of two rooms in his apartment that is housing three people. It was nice when it was just you and Wade, best buds, partners in crime, pookie and shookie. Whatever the fuck, it had always been you and Wade. Now it’s you, Wade and Logan. Possibly the worst fucking addition to the duo. Doesn’t he know there is always a duo in a trio?

“Gasp! Is it because of the smell? Because pookie no where deep in reddit told me how to clean up-”

You put your hand up to stop him, face full of confusion yet the sheer idea of whatever Wade has to say next kills the curious cat roaming in your thoughts. You lean on his door frame - the doors not fully open out of fear but it’s enough to not want to step foot deep in the room - and closed enough for your eyes to be saved from the atrocity he was talking about.

“Wade, please, I can’t fucking take it anymore I am fucking loosing it. I can’t even get water without seeing that sad sack of shit mopping on our fucking couch! It’s sad, Wade, if you loved me you'd kick him out.”

The childish ultimatum is dumb but maybe the puppy dog eyes you have going on as you stare at Wade big eyed and faux sadness. Overall this is childish of you, to beg your best friend to kick out the guy who just had to fucking help you save the world seems pathetic and rude of you. But who gives a fuck? Logan is rude, an arrogant asshole, a prick, douche, down-under fucker. He is the worst hero? you have had the displeasure of meeting. But no, God strikes you down on your hatred of this old man once more; he makes him hot.

“How could you say that about a war veteran?”

The sarcasm combined with Wade talking to Mary Puppins like a baby rather than looking at you, has you wishing Cassandra killed you herself back when she had the chance. It was interesting to say the least, getting thrown into a rag team with Wade and being told to save the multiverse was not your usual mission but hey, money is money. That wasn’t really your style, the whole big hero sham. Vigilante, mercenary, the people's people, too hot to handle, now that’s just one big umbrella term you’d throw yourself under. You met Wade when he wasn’t deadpool and you were some weird eighteen year old who was a little too good with knives and way too lucky to be alive. It felt natural then and there to just fall under his wing and have him throw you out there, figuratively and literally (there was the 32 floor incident and the scars to prove it). Your thankful for it even if it means some scars and permanent migraine because twenty-three year old you now has the confidence to throw a kitchen knife that was embedded in the wall next to you- right into Wades head and slam the door shut, something eighteen year old would have hesitated to do at first.

“Nice clothes ya got there, Bub.”

Logan’s deep voice rattles through your system, spiking your nervous system higher than it normally is around him, (usually very high). You spin around from Wade’s door, the curse you had ready to drip off your tongue is gathered right back into your mouth after you get a look at him. Tall, dark, so big and strong; the words Karen Page had uttered to you the first time she saw Logan after you and Wade had brought him around the group you guys converse in. The words that had haunted you at night, the nights where you catch him and Wade fighting and his massive arms are on display for you to shamelessly stare at or the nights where you curse what God you might have pissed off in your past multiverses that put your very thin bedroom wall right next to the shower wall. Hearing The Wolverine, the one that you had read in comics growing up, untouchable and badass Wolverine, was the one you heard bite down on his knuckles to quiet down his deep groans as he got himself off in the shower. You close your eyes to regain what you were gonna say and look at Logan.

“Thanks, go fuck yourself.”

You turn to make the small trek to your room, looking down at clothes Logan had chosen to comment on. An oversized and stretched t-shirt that has Spider-man's logo on it, the shirt long enough to reach your thighs so like always you for-go the pants. You're not gonna change your comfiness for one person who decided to be a roach in your living room.

Logan’s large hand on your wrist is what gets your anger sparking as he stops you from entering your room.

“Can I fucking help you?”

Harsh words cut through your mouth as you remove your wrist from his hand, if you were to miss the warmth it provided, then well that’s later you in your bed problem.

“Are you going with Wilson tomorrow?”

Tomorrow, a day job that you and Wade had picked up, some bullshit, go kill this person,yadda yadda, and here's the money. The main reason you're so excited? A day away from him.

You don’t even bother to say yes, you nod your head at him, open your door, stare at him, ignore the smirk, and slam the door. Wait why the fuck did he make that face?

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Now, to be truthful you should have pushed back against Logan last night. Yelled and pushed for a fight on why did he care where you were going, why did he make that face at you. You really should have, instead you chose peace. Now you live with violence in the present. Your suit clings too tight to you right now and one of your knives is digging into your thigh and oh, fucking Logan is apparently is coming. There goes any excitement you had about the day trip away from the bastard. You give Wade the silent treatment in the apartment, on the way to the car, during his shameful ‘Careless Whisper’ performance in the car and halfway to the mission. Wade drives, it’s an amusing site to watch the rather large man sit in the driver seat of the 2008 Nissan Rogue (Hondas hold too much PTSD for the group). You make yourself comfortable in the passenger and try to tune out Logan seating himself in the back.

Wade leans over, not subtly, and puts a hand cupping around his masked mouth and whispers rather loudly-

“Is this because I washed your suit too tight? Or is it your allergy to cheap soaps? I know your skin is bougie, bestie.”

You're going to kill him, you and Logan. You go to grab at the stickshift in the center console to fuck up the car but Wade knows you to well and already has a hand on the stick shift. Hearing Logan chuckle has you moving quickly. A gun is pressed right to the center of his unfortunately gorgeous forehead and takes off safely as you make direct eye contact with him.

“I will fucking pull the trigger right now.”

“Ya know you won’t Bubs, you're too much of a pussy for that.”

The familiar nickname sends a shiver down your spine, and a heat you're too known with through the lower parts of you but the anger from his doubting overshines like usual, intrusively you unbuckle your seat belt and jump in the back seat and pistol whip Logan across the face.

Bad choice

Logan stares at you as the gash from the pistol is rapidly repairing itself but the bloody evidence makes itself permanent on his face. He’s quick to act, unbuckling his seatbelt and going to launch himself at you.

You don’t have any fancyshamchy powers of that sort, you heal fast, just like the other two in the car but not that fast, maybe a day or two. And you're lucky, one would call it a power and someone wouldn’t. But fuck your lucky you avoid Logans fast coming fist towards your head. You duck and lean back on the seat kicking your feet out to hit him in the stomach. He gets pushed back and his head hits the widow opposite of you hard and loud. The site has you cackling, from your view as your half laid down on the seat and one leg half up and the other hanging off the seat. Logan’s broad body is pushed up against the window. Your cackling comes to a yelp as Logan is quick to pounce on you. His large body pins yours down to the seat. One arm is quick to grab your hands, capturing them in one hand that he brings above your head. His other arm across your throat pressing down hard enough to cut off your air supply.

You blame the lack of air for the thought that pushes through your mind, the sight of him above you right now all furious and heated. His thick forearm heavy on your throat should have you kicking him immediately off you but you falter. The worst part? Logan notices. You're a second to late for your normal reaction time. You watch in slight horror as Logan realizes this above you.

“Hey! Are you guys fucking back there? Listen I know where in the middle of enemies to lovers fanfic but C’MON!”

For fucking once Wade decided to be useful these past two days, you ignore his spewing but Logan seems distracted. You get the high ground and kick him off, shoving a baby knife into his neck and scrambling your ass back into the front seat by Wade. As you adjust yourself back into your seat, the feeling of hot slick between your thighs has become a rather uncomfortable problem that has aroused. You shift uncomfortably in your seat and make the mistake of catching Logan’s eyes in the rearview mirror and he gives you a sideways glance. Fuck, fucking mutants, fucking weird senses, fucking dog boy.

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If Logans being truthful, he never hated you. Hate’s too strong of a word, he does although despise you. Loathe, detest, revulse, abhorrence, those are the words Logan would use if someone asked him to describe his feelings towards you. The annoying girl who had saved the world with him and who he shares an apartment with. The very annoying girl who he wants to pummel into the ground, and then into a bed.

Since the whole ‘we saved the universe now we gotta go back to New York and hey I guess you can come with us’ has happened to him has tested his patience.

It’s rough adjusting to a new life let alone a new fucking universe and she makes it no better. Logan truly wants to hate her the way he portrays, he wonders if she gets tired of arguing all the time. Being so uptight and rude twenty-four seven, to have anger vibrate through her bones. Every conversation they had is laced with malice.

“Why the fuck are you in my fridge.” - “I didn’t realize you owned the whole fridge, girl.’

“You're a reckless waste of space, I'm surprised Cassandra failed to kill you.” - “Ain’t yo whole team dead cause of you?”

“You sure Wilson’s just not pitying you, Bubs?” - “How are you over two hundred years old and you still can’t pull bitches?”

She’s quick-witted, sharp tongued and annoyingly gorgeous. The moment Logan laid his eyes on you, he felt his blood spike faster to his heart and his dick. Pretty young girl covered in blood holding a 9 mm, he was enamored, then you opened your mouth and it was a wrap (discreet wrap). Hating you publicly and his shower thoughts is what he had lived by for the past two months yet here he sits now in the back of the car, Wades shitty pop playlist blasting, and the image of you pinned underneath of him with your big wide eyes staring up at him is burned into his head. You faltered, he saw it himself the way you went lax and the way you liked it. He’s not stupid, he bluntly watches as you push your way out from under and throw yourself back into the passenger seat. He can’t control it but he smells you, the way you have to squeeze your thigh together to get some relief.

It sends him into a frenzy as he catches your glazed eyes in the rearview mirror, he curses himself as he feels his blood rush and his cock hardens in his suit. Fuck

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You're sure Wade is the only person who enjoyed the mission, the only part you enjoyed is the fat wad of cash that was pushed into your hand. The three of you shuffle into the car that is somehow still standing. The three of you all covered in various contrivances along with Wade's now missing left arm. The car getting stained with every movement mixed with the hot interior is worse than a crowded hallway in highschool. You roll your window down and let the cool air soothe over your skin like a new layer of skin.

“I can’t believe those perverted bastards took my arm! Hope they like jerking their dicks off with sandpaper because…’’ Wade’s nonsense lulls you to a slumber that makes you ache less.

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You're a loudmouth, not as bad as Wade but you need your fix of arguing and winning. Which is what has you standing at your door thinking hard before you open it.

Logan’s ignoring you, well, you're also ignoring him. You’ve both been trying to pretend the other doesn’t exist as one can in a 15x10 apartment layout. Just start some shit, call him fucking lazy or ugly. You psych yourself up ready to start the argument and win. The door opens and there you go sauntering out of it in your big t-shirt and no pants. Logan makes a quick glance towards your direction but otherwise seems preoccupied on the television in front of him . You stand in the kitchen behind him mouth agape as you struggle to think of the words, angrily you grab water and return back to your room.

This keeps happening, you and Logan keep avoiding each other, not more than sparing a glance. Of course, it’s Wade who says something. He catches you as you're in your room and Logans of and about in New York.

“So did the Big Bad Wolf really eat your grandma, huh?”

“I'm gonna make you eat your grandma.”

“Kinky, but my grandma was a fierce woman.” He launches himself onto your bed and grabs your fluffy throw pillow to hold, Mary Puppins trailing in after Wade. “But seriously pookie, this is odd behavior for you two. Y’know you guys are usually like cats and dogs after each other. Oh! You think the song ‘It’s Raining Men’ took into consideration ‘it's raining cats and dogs out”…....

“I hear Logan jerk off in the shower”

You're not completely sure why that's the first thing you say to Wade, but it shuts him up. He stares at you comically before he loudly gasps and goes to cover Mary Puppins ears before excitedly staring at you. If he wasn’t horrifically scarred you could almost compare him to a teen girl right now.

“Sexual Tension! You have to fuck The Wolverine!”

You stare at Wade like he just said he was never going to shoot again.

“The fuck are you spewing about?”

You have no other choice but to listen to Wade spew about how to fix all your problems you have to fuck Logan. You get up as Wade is on his second speech on how to suck dick 101, you push him out of your room and depressingly stare at your wall before you realize.

“Fuck!”

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

After your conversation with Wade it's all that plagues your mind. The way the veins pop in his arms, how his chest looks in his wife beater. The dog tags that hand around his neck, you want to fall in front of your face and then choke him out. It catches up to you finally, after all you still share a kitchen with him. It's awkward, more awkward then a teen boy confessing his crush, it's kinda awkward where a two hundred year old mutant and a twenty three year old something of the sorts have a mutual hatred but sexual deviance of the other.

It’s one-thirty four at night when you and Logan run into each other. You're grabbing a glass of water and he's sitting at the small Island nursing a beer.

“Ya hate me so much Bubs you had to lock yourself away?”

You glare at him, eyes following the way he laughs at his own sentence and how his lips close around the top of his beer. You move your eyes up to catch his already glaring at you. You rack your mind to what to say, to embarrass him.

“Bathroom walls are thin ya know, Old man.”

Got him. He freezes as he sets down his beer on the counter before continuing to stare at you, you smile at your upperhand in this.

“Don’t know why you wanna piss me off so bad Old man, that's the only way you get it up?”

Low blow, but who cares. You certainly don’t as you watch as he racks his brain to say something. You beat him to it again.

“Why don’t you get yourself something nice, a bar, club, something. Or has it been too long for you to try anything with civilization?”

He stands up and fuck if he ain’t tall. You watch as he makes the small space in between you, he stands at his full. You reach about his shoulder so you have to lift your head to stare at him, he’s already staring down at you with a gleam in his eye. One of his hefty arms comes down on the counter behind you, caging you. His other arm rests by his side, an escape route if you still have the shreds of your dignity that tells you to leave, go back to your room and go to sleep. Yet Logan tilts his head at you and watches as his lips curl into a smirk.

“Harsh accusations from someone-”

His words are cut off as you put a hand to cover his mouth, you just know he’s going to mention the moment in the car. Your chest are pressed together as you keep your hand tight around his mouth. Your eyes are filled with something akin to embarrassment but something else.

“Shut it. That was a moment of weakness.”

Logan grabs your hand that's covering his mouth and holds it tightly in his hand, it’s when you don’t jerk your hand back that Logan cages you in with both arms. There goes my dignity.

“Yeah Bubs, moment of weakness. That's why you've been avoiding me like the plague huh?” He comes closer to your face, one large hand sneaking up to grip at your chin. “Scared you might like it?”

No fucking way. You feel how your heart stops in your chest, how all you can do is have your eyes scan over his face. You push your thighs together in some relief from the feeling of molten lava being run through your system down to your panties. You lean your face closer to him. You grip your fingers hard in the marble counter behind you. Trying to hold on to whatever last bit of anger that is spurring through your body.

“Didn’t you avoid me too huh? Don’t point fingers.”

It’s like it was a trigger that switched something inside of him. The hand that had been caging you in is holding your waist in a grip so taut you could feel the fingertip indents forming. Logan seizes your chin again, a quicker way to shut you up.

“Fuck ya want me to, huh?” He leans his large figure down to be only inches away from each other's faces. The scowl on his face shouldn’t send a thrill down your body but any shreds of sensible thoughts have been thrown out the window moments before. Logan watches you intently, he sees how you have a remark ready to spit at him like poison.

“I’ve watched you parade yourself around this fucking apartment like this-” he grips the edge of the long t-shirt your wearing “-and I had to do nothing about it.”

You should bunch up your shoulder, fight back, but it seems any of your usual inhibitions are clawed away when it comes to Logan. You're a simple girl at heart, your eyes catch how thick the arms that are encasing you and the moment the idea you want them to hold you while he rams from the back is when you give up any thoughts that are holding you back.

“Why don’t you do something now?”

It’s ballsy but it’s worth it for the way you can see Logan squint his eyes and push himself harder against you, the cold counter pushed into your back a small relief to your hot skin. His hand gripping your chin goes down to match the equally harsh grip on your waist. The shitty dim light from the kitchen overhead shadows over Logan perfectly, light defining the muscles that are being pulled taunt in his neck and shoulders. He drops his head to have lips brush over your ear.

“I hear ya too, in your room. How those fucking fingers of yours aren’t enough, you wish that was me instead huh, Bubs?” His last words come out breathy with a hint of a chuckle falling off his lips. He drops his head on your shoulder and you feel your body run hot at the amount of contact. “Fuck, I could smell ya in there all the fucking time. Knew you hear me through the walls, girl.”

You tilt your head slightly letting your plush lips ghost over his ear like he did moments ago.

“This doesn’t change anything, you're arrogant, egotistical and an asshole.”

Logan lifts his head confused at your words before you grab his face into your hands, a laughable size difference, and push his lips onto yours. He catches on quickly moving his lips against yours rather harshly, having a hand slide to your neck to keep you in place, the other hand pushing you against him. You groan at the feeling of his hardened cock pressed up by your upper thigh. It’s quick and rough with him, the way he grabs at your skin and handles you.

His calloused hands reach under your thighs and grunts out a ‘jump’ and that's exactly what you do. Letting your thighs hit the cold counter is a burn relief on your burning thighs. His lips run down from your lips to your neck, his beard rubbing against your skin has you throwing your head back into the cabinets that rest behind you. His hands knead your plush thighs and you pull at his hair tufts and he groans into your neck.

He pulls away completely leaving you a confused mess. You must look like a sight, shirt falling off one shoulder and bunching at your waist. Hair a wreck framing your face and your kiss swollen lips. You go to mumble out a disoriented ‘what’ but Logans already grabbing at the undersides of your thighs and you're pulled into his arms. His fingertips grip into the backs of your thighs leaving bruises in their wake, you take the advantage to run your hands down his tank top clad shoulders and chest feeling the hard muscle ripple under your touch.

“Say it.”

You stare at him slightly confused as he sets you down on your bed, his hands resting on the tops of your thighs. He’s looking at you so earnestly it almost hurts.

“Say what, Logan?” You lean back on your arms before deciding on gaining a surge of confidence. You grab at the edge of your shirt and rip it over your head. Free the nipple and all that but thank fuck is all you think. It’s like a reward watching his eyes land on your bare chest and the way his breath hitches. You pull him down by his tank top. “I want you Logan.”

The reaction is spontaneous, he’s leaning back and taking his tank top off from the hem behind his neck. You crawl back onto your bed and he follows you, in this state you could ask him to follow you to any universe and he would. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down back to your lips, his hands gliding smoothly over your torso before he grabs one of your tits in hand and pulls harshly at your nipple. He does it again on the other nipple after he hears the gasp that comes out your mouth. He moves his kissed lips down from your lips to your neck. You catch the image, his massive body crowding yours, a shield from the outside world. His lips detach from the purple hazing mark starting to form on your neck and attach his lips to one of your taut nipples while kneading the other one. You snake your hands into his hair and pull. Into the spank bank box.

It’s when his lips start trailing down your tits to your stomach, kissing and playing with the plush skin before he kisses around your thigh. Teasing on purpose, avoiding where you need him the most. He lets his thumbs enter the hem of your painties before he looks back at you.

“You know how long I’ve waited to be here, baby?”

“Then show me, c’mon”

Logan pulls your painties off so slowly it should be a crime but with how he kisses your pussy like it’s a prize bails him out. His arms wrap around your thighs to give him better access, a forearm going across your stomach to hold you down like you're in the wrong for squirming. He licks up and down your pussy and fuck it makes you angry how good he is at it. His tongue teasing your hole and you whimper, you pull at his hair tufts and he looks at you, his eyes are teasing and his mouth and chin are covered in your juices. He maintains eye contact as he moves his lips over to your clit and sucks, he keeps his mouth closed around the bundle and watches how you moan and squirm under him. He removes one arm from around your waist to thrust a single finger into your tight hole. He doesn’t make a remark on the gasp but pulls up for where he was and stops his movement.

“Stop fucking moving, c’mob be good for me, Bubs.”

The words have you melting into your sheets as you try to stop your brash movements. The combination of the second finger he added and his tongue working wonders on your sensitive clit has your stomach forming that familiar knot. You grab at one of his arms to signal him but he doesn’t relent.

“Gonna cum ,gonna cum, Fuck!”

“I know Bubs let it out, yeah just like that baby.”

He sits up for where he was laying down, your body still spread out for him as you try to catch your breath from the orgasm. You trail your hand down his toned and muscular abs to his jean buttons, slowly undoing the button and the zipper. Logan looks down at you with a growing smirk on his face as he finishes the job of pulling his pants a little down his thighs.

“Ya want something, girl? Ya gotta get it.”

You push yourself up onto your knees as he stands at the edge of your bed, shoving down his boxers, his cock bounces to his stomach, a flush coating the tip as pearly white precum beads out. You take his cock in hand, salivating over the happy trail in your view. You pump his cock a few times before you lean in and kiss the tip. You're a few kitten licks deep before he pulls your head back and shakes his head.

“Another time, girl. I’ve been waiting too long to be inside of you.”

You groan and fall back, letting your legs spread for the man you hate so much. He adjusts himself in between your legs trying to make space for his large figure. He looks down at you, one hand on his cock and the other on your thigh, holding it up to his waist. He strokes at your calf in a fond way, maybe a ‘sorry i'm about to wreck your pussy.’

He lines himself up and swipes his cock head through your folds, letting his head hand forward from the feeling. You wrap both legs around his colossal waist in an attempt to have him sheath himself fully inside you. He laughs from above you and lines his fat tip against your hole. Sliding himself inch by inch, you look down and he’s only half way in and it’s too full. He tries to push in more and you whine, throwing your head back and putting your hands on his chest. He takes a hand and grabs one of your hands on his chest and sheaths himself fully inside of you.

“Yeah Bub? Too much?”

It’s cocky how he laughs above you, laughing at your whining. You shift your hips under him trying to get comfortable. His eyes watching your every move, you kick his thigh, for being cocky and a signal to move. He puts a forearm by your head and another on the thigh wrapped around the waist. He starts slowly moving his hips thrusting in and out.

“Really Old man, c’mon let loose.”

“You don’t want me to do that, baby”

You roll your eyes from under him, you shove at his shoulders and have him fall on to his back. He stays snug inside you as you adjust yourself on top of him, watching as he gives you a one over, both his hands gripping the fat on your hips. You start lifting your thighs up and down, putting your hands on his chest making an excuse to feel on those godly abs. The grunts he gives from under you are spurring you on despite the burn in your thighs.

Logan is a simple man, he watches the lewd faces you make as you lean forward, your tits caught between your arms as you bounce your thighs on him. He lets you do your own thing, admiring you. But the primal urge is stronger, he grabs at your hips and fucks up into you. His cock moving at rapid speed thrusting in and out of from under, you keep yourself up on this chest. Your cockdrunk on him. The feeling of him fucking into you is making you dumb, you let your tits press to his chess and attempt to kiss him. You're more so moaning into his mouth than kissing him. You let him switch places, manhandling you onto your knees. He practically mounts you like a dog in heat , his chest pressed against back. He’s got his forearm pressed to your collarbones, hand on your throat, his other hand reaches down to rub at your clit. Your a moaning mess, to fucked out to care about anything. Your whines of Logan's name has him thrusting harder into. He leans his head on your shoulder turning towards your ear.

“Yeah, you close baby, I can feel it. It’s okay Bubs, I'm here, let it out. Cum on this dick Bub.”

You let his words wash over you, coaxing you into your second orgasm. He fucks you through it, before he stills his thrust. You grab his arm- “Inside, cum inside”- he lets out a groan that rattles in your chest and shoots hot ropes of cum inside. Logan adjusts you both to lay down, your upper half on his chest, his half hard cock still cum deep in your pussy. You're tempted to fall asleep at this until Logan opens his mouth.

“Still hate me, baby?”

You smack his chest not bothering to get up. You let yourself lay on his chest, grabbing your comforter and pulling it up to your chest, the blanket falling around his waist.

“You're still in jeans, on my bed.”

“I'll take em off for round two”

You don’t say anything just letting the both of you bask in the silence, Logan’s playing with your hair. It’s nice, up and until you hear the front door open. You brace yourself.

You forgot to lock the door, and in comes Wade.

“What the FUCK balls, without me, seriously?”

#logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett #wolverine #deadpool and wolverine #x men #x men x reader #x reader #female reader #he's so sexy it hurt #enemies to lovers #Logan

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pigdemonart · 2 years

Text

Battle Subway Depot Agents (by pig-demon)

When I made designs for these guys last year I didn’t really think they needed colored references/master post, but since then I’ve drawn them a lot! Also people have added them to their fanfics and drawn fanart! So I figured it was time I made a post for easy ref. :]

These designs are obviously free to use, just give credit (and link me your work if you're comfortable, because it makes me happy to see!) All I request is to stay respectful to their pronouns and skin colors, ya knooow… 👍 note: The pokemon on their cards are all companions, not the ones they use on the Battle Subway. Except Jackie...the litwicks are just there to fill space/give them company.

More info under cut:

Edit: Important disclaimer:

These are again my designs/interpretations for the agents. Please don’t treat them as canon or as the only, quintessential designs for these literal background npcs. Many people have done takes on them before and after me, even back in 2010. It feels silly to ask, but due to past experience, I ask that you please DONT hunt down anyone that does a different take on the depot agents!! 👍

Tags:

I'm gonna start tagging them individually, but for now all Depot Agent comics and art on this blog are tagged under Depot Agents.

Height chart:

I’m not too strict about heights, so I don’t really care about actual measurements. Here’s an approximation of what I tend to visualize though:

Sexualities/Gender Identities: I don't have official labels for each and every agent because I like keeping things fluid for characters to develop these traits on their own. However, as a queer person, I enjoy designing characters who are also queer, therefore I can safely say none of these characters are straight. The ones who are set in stone are Ramses (gay man), Cloud (lesbian woman,) Jackie (non-binary.) Furze uses he/they pronouns but their gender is undetermined. I also welcome anyone giving the agents a different gender identity to suit them (as long as it's done respectfully.)

Notes about each agent...

Cameron:

- Cameron dyes parts of his hair blonde and keeps other parts in black. This is because he is a big fan of Elesa and her fashion choices. - Though there have been a few occasions to meet his idol, he is always way too nervous to approach her, feeling deep down that he'll mess up somehow. - He practices modeling poses in secret. He loves flourishes and flare, but is simply too insecure to put it on display. - Of his coworkers, he gets along the best with Furze. He's the easiest to talk to because Furze will do most of the talking. - Cameron is easily intimidated — even mean Pokémon can make him nervous. Though, his two worst fears are being left in a room alone with Jackie, and being left alone in a room with Isadore. - He takes advantage of his height to sometimes hide behind some of his coworkers. - Cameron is much better at Pokémon battles than he gives himself credit for. Emmet and Ingo were pleasantly surprised by this, since Cameron was promoted to fit a temporary role on the Battle Subway. They happily made him a permanent member when he proved himself capable. - His Dwebble (Pebby) is secretly very strong, and rushes to protect Cameron when it can. Cam sometimes thinks Pebby helps him feel more confident in himself too. - If he stumbled into any of his coworkers outside of work, he would simply explode of embarrassment. - He is the youngest child and only son of his family. He lives in his own apartment in Nimbasa.

Cloud:

- Cloud (like Ramses) knew the twins when they were very young. - She used to be an ace trainer in her youth, even going so far to compete in the Pokémon league. Winning and becoming the champ was the most important part of her journey, but something happened along the way that changed that outlook. - It seems with age, her competitiveness has mellowed out. However, she maintains an intense energy when battling. - Her favorite types are Psychic and Flying types. Swoobat (Sweetie) is her ace. - Her favorite hobby is baking, and she often bakes sweets for the crew. She knows all their favorite flavors by now! - She prioritizes keeping a friendly relationship with all her coworkers and thinks of them fondly. She considers Ramses family after all the years of working together! - She is a big fan of Brycen's movies and can recite the lines. - She lives with her wife in Anville. - Cloud loves doing maintenance work both at home and in Gear Station. She enjoys bringing her own tools and industrial flashlight.

Furze:

- Furze only has one volume setting (mid loud,) but he finds himself feeling right at home when talking to either one of the twins. - Furze has ADHD, and this is reflected in some of his habits, most visibly is his fidgeting when sitting still for too long. - He rides a bike to work every day. When he is late, Cloud clocks in for him so he doesn't get in trouble. - This is a kind of a guy that sits crouched gargoyle style on chairs. Only outside of work, of course. Bad posture could get him in trouble. - While working on the Battle Subway, there will be times Furze feels sorry for his opponents and offers to quietly let them pass anyways. This...has also gotten him in trouble. :[ - He went to the same elementary school as Isadore in Castelia. Though Isadore seems to have forgotten their short-lived acquaintance, Furze has not. This is part of the reason Furze claims they are in fact good friends!!! - Furze is the middle child of a big family. He lives with his mom and takes care of her, along with his many Darumakas and Darmanitan. All of his Pokemon have famous trains names. - He collects model trains. Naturally.

Isadore

- Isadore had plans to become the station master the moment he was hired as a depot agent, but alas... (sad trumpet sound.) - As a youth, he was more interested in science and engineering over Pokemon battles. He enjoys the strategizing aspect, at most. Not so much the competitiveness. - In addition, his Pokemon are all rescues and not used for battling. He's had his Watchog (Winston) since he was in his late teens. - His Electrode (Gregor) and Voltorb (Leonard) were rescued from the likes of Team Plasma. - Isadore admits he understands Pokemon better than humans. This has been apparent his whole life. - In spite of acting like a sitcom villain, Isadore cares about the management of Gear Station and the safety of the passengers to an incredible degree. He sees it as a personal life goal to assist in the management of Gear Station, as well as the success of the Battle Subway. - Though it pained him to become a subordinate to the twins, he begrudgingly accepts it for the greater good. - His almost militant efficiency certainly made up for his years of antagonizing the twins before they became the bosses. Ingo and Emmet understand this better than anyone. - Isadore keeps tabs on all of the staff members. So he very well knows all their birthdays and makes it a point to celebrate it. This is by no means a -happy- or -festive- event. It's just customary. - Like Furze, he was originally from Castelia, but now resides in Nimbasa. Isadore's only family is his mom and she lives in his childhood home with their Stoutland. - Isadore would have probably been voiced by every glasses guy ever J. Michael Tatum had he not already been cast as dear Emmet lmao

Jackie

- Jackie is a mystery and they like keeping it that way. When they talk, it's practically impossible to determine what is a lie or truth, especially if the subject is themselves or their background. - They love scaring Cameron the most and will ask to be paired with him whenever possible. They claim Cameron is their "favorite coworker," while Isadore is the least favorite. - It's plain to see why -- Jackie is the only one that doesn't passively tolerate Isadore's tirades. - Though my comics sometimes may allude to Jackie being a ghost/supernatural, this is not confirmed nor canon. I just personally enjoy toying with the concept. : ) That being said...

- Item #: SCP 7453

- Object Class: Euclid

- Special Containment Procedures: The ████ ██████ is ██████ within ████-██████. - Ingo and Emmet choose to not question anything about Jackie, since it's clear they're one of the more efficient workers. However it can be a safety concern... - Cloud and Ramses have worked with Jackie for a long time, though they've forgotten somehow. They believe Jackie is a new hire since they appear to be young. - Anyone trying to make sense of Jackie's employee records simply can't bring themselves to any conclusions. It's better to ignore the inconsistencies. - Jackie has never been seen to leave Gear Station. Jackie has never been seen in anything but their uniform. Jackie has never been confirmed to eat, drink or blink. Jackie knows your secrets. Jackie thinks it's... amusing.

Ramses

- Ramses sometimes misses having a full head of hair, but he thinks his signs of age make him look distinguished. (he is correct.) - Ramses is sort of the "mom friend," making sure everyone's concerns are heard, as well as trying to keep the peace whenever a conflict might arise. - If another coworker is feeling low, Ramses will try to cheer them up with a lighthearted joke or offer advice if they'd like it. - When the twins were promoted to bosses of the Battle Subway, Ramses cried because he felt so proud. - In most circumstances, he is a very simple and logical man. He is quick to find solutions and tries not to fret over the little stuff. It's not good for his heart after all. - His ace is his Pikachu (Musa,) though the mouse is more of a lap pet now. At home, he also has an Audino (Sara) and a Manectric (Nubi) who keep Ramses' husband company. His Klinklang (Moli) is the only one of his personal pokemon that accompany him to work nowadays. - Ramses considers Cloud family. They are best friends and love having family gatherings outside of work. They also gossip a lot, and don't mind when Jackie decides to join. - Ramses jokes about looking forward to retirement, but really doesn't want to leave until he is physically incapable of working anymore. Gear Station is like a second home to him.

In-Game Quotes

The most important reference of all are their in-game quotes, of course, so I'm adding it to the post. A lot of their personality traits can be extracted and interpreted from these few lines. And I personally love that about Pokemon NPCs -- there's a lot of room to explore and play with. Some appear very obvious. Cameron practically announces that he isn't ready for the battle that's about to ensue and seems genuinely surprised to win. Furze comes out the gate talking about the subject they actually care about, which is their job and their love for trains. The two of them are very easy to understand. Now, Ramses lines allude to a gentle and simple personality. He views himself with humility, and maybe even with a bit of humor comparing himself to a train and to his opponent to a station. If he loses he shows no signs of disappointment, he just accepts defeat with one last honest quip. It s also amusing to see the Depot Agents all use train metaphors to describe themselves since it falls in line with how Ingo and Emmet talk.

In comparison, Cloud does the same thing calling herself the terminal instead. Immediately, she is way more daring, though still keeping a sense of professionalism. To me, it's obvious she is competitive as she even admits she was expecting to win ("Ah...I didn't see it coming.") Jackie's lines are fun since it's up to interpretation if they are being literal or lying. It's almost like they are more interested in confusing/creeping out their opponent than actually beating them. To me, it gives off a mischievous vibe. Isadore's opener "There are only two roads in life." is a curious one because it almost feels like he is trying to be philosophical. Definitely a guy who views himself as an intellectual, regardless if that’s true or not. I like to think it's a saying he really believes in, and it applies to his life. The road he likes (long route) vs the road he hates (shortcut) -- fighting tooth and nail to become boss vs biting his tongue and accepting Ingo and Emmet as the Subway Masters.

Those are just my thoughts on how I write these characters. Please have fun playing with these lines too!

#depot agents #depot agents master post #my art #submas #submas adjacent ahaha #will probably edit as time goes on but who knows really #if you spot any typos no you dont kiss kiss #cameron #cloud #furze #isadore #jackie #ramses

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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 2 months

Note

Okay talking about little meow meow Cecil

I can’t stop thinking about him and f.reader who have been together for a while and him holding back the whole time because he is embarrassed how whiny he gets and how fast he cums 😭😭

Reader realizes that he is horny all the time tho 🤭

They talk about it and after a lot reassurance that she won’t judge BOOM whiny whimpering meow meow timeeeeee

Oh my goooossshh! Foaming at the mouth over this!

Cecil Dennis F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | requestinfo• ko-fi •

Summary: Cecil has a problem.

Warnings: Cecil is a warning in himself, negative thoughts, kissing, oral (f receiving), swearing, over use of italics, typos, not beta read, railroad sentences, please let me know if I’ve missed a warning!

Word Count: 726

Cecil is literally trying to behave himself so much. He’s putting his whole bussy into it.

He’s not drinking/smoking too much. He’s trying to be attentive. He’s thinking about his actions before he does them (sometimes a little too much, it’s like ‘oops, why did this choice take 3 hours?’)

He doesn’t want to make a huge mistake and lose you because he acted without thinking or was selfish.

Which has led to him absolutely panicking about being intimate with you.

Because this man does not last.

He really tries, but he just gets too excited and comes after thirty seconds.

This includes when he doesn’t even have his dick anywhere near anything. Sometimes even making out will make him mess in his jeans.

And he’s just so self-conscious about it.

He keeps thinking about how he’d really like to eat you out, but he knows he’ll barely get his tongue on you before he’s moaning like a whore in a porno.

And what are you gonna think of him? You’re not going to want to be anywhere near him again.

So he’s trying really hard to be a gentleman, and not be alone with you in a private place as an excuse to not take things further.

All the while he’s been furiously researching methods to make himself last longer.

These include: edging, overstimulation, not jacking off at all, jacking off all the time.

He is absolutely distraught when he realises none of these things are making a blind bit of difference.

In fact it’s actually become a little worse, the other day in the shower he wasn’t even touching his dick, but the thought of you made him come so hard against the tiles that he had to sit down to stop himself from falling down.

He’s even bought a hollow strap-on online, but he’s been too nervous to take it out of the box when it arrived. So at the moment it’s just hidden under his bed.

However, he hasn’t thought about the fact that, yeah he comes really fast. But his refractory period is also really fast too.

It all comes to a point after one date where he took you to a local funfair (and spent far too many dollars winning you a soft toy duck that you said was cute.)

You invite him into your home, convincing him to come inside. The second the front door is shut you’re kissing him senseless.

Cecil whines and then freezes, panicking.

You stop, pull back and frown in concern. “Cecil…” you take a deep breath, “do you, erm, actually like me? I mean…” You say a little nervously.

You’ve mistaken all his previous actions as disinterest in you.

His eyes go wide, “No, no, no, please, you’re so hot, I really like you, I just…”

“You just?”

He closes his eyes, defeat washing over him as his shoulders slump. “I… I’ve got a problem.”

“Like an STI?”

“No,” he opened his eyes quickly, he’d gone and got himself checked. “No, I… I’m… I don’t last long… I just… and I make some… I sound pretty whiney…” A small hint of pink colours his cheeks. He fiddles with his hands and he talks. Expecting you to laugh at him and tell him to get the fuck out.

Instead you touch his cheek softly.

He looks at you with his dark doe eyes. “You’re not… mad?”

“Mad? Cecil,” you give him a small quick kiss. “Why would I be mad?” He shrugs, “I dunno, I just… I don’t want to disappoint you. You deserve so much nice stuff and I want to give it all to you and I know I’m not the best and-”

You shut him up with a long, slow kiss, licking into his mouth and making him groan and dig his fingers into your waist.

When you suck on his neck he moans so prettily, grinding against you and practically sobbing.

You don’t make it to your bedroom, or even the sofa.

You end up on your back on the floor as he licks your pussy like his life depends on it.

He comes the second you scrape your nails along his scalp, whining and sobbing against you.

But he doesn’t stop sucking on your clit until you’ve screamed his name and he’s tasted your cum at least three times.

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @whatthefishh

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If you’d like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

#cecil dennis #revenge for jolly #cecil dennis x reader #x reader #cecil dennis x you #x you #cecil dennis x afab reader #afab reader #cecil dennis x female reader #x female reader #cecil dennis x f!reader #x f!reader #cecil dennis x fem!reader #x fem!reader #my writing #fanfic #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters

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causenessus · 2 months

Text

love notes

part 0.12. SUPPORT SMALL BUSINESSES DAY

"trace me onto you."

from title fight, left in saitozaki, fukuoka

prev. | m.list | next

extras <3

INKED AND MY BISQUE BEAU REFERENCES!!! DEFINITELY PLEASE GO CHECK OUT THESE FICS THEY ARE AMAZING <3 (thank u to @eggyrocks and @wyrcan <33)

AND THANK U AGAIN TO EGGY FOR THEIR AWESOME PLAYLIST <33 LET'S GO TITLE FIGHT

atsumu acted so offended when y/n immediately tagged him saying kiyoko was off limits but he was definitely thinking about asking for her phone number...but that's bc he's an idiot

when suna saw y/n's tweets about buying her coffee he texted osamu like "hey what if u dropped off coffee for y/n and ur girlfriend. i'll pay"

osamu is trying his hardest to maintain that they are NOT dating (yet) but he's secretly getting giddy everytime someone calls mbb y/n his girlfriend (SORRY LMAOOO FOR ANYONE WHO HASN'T READ MBB THIS IS PROBABLY CONFUSING THAT JUST MEANS U SHOULD GO READ IT!!!)

he also (pretending to complain about it) agreed to drop off coffee but he's a gentleman and paid for mbb y/n's coffee and suna paid for (love notes) y/n's coffee <3

double dates between the two in the future?? both pairs are so cute 👀

WAIT AND TRIPLE DATE WITH KIYOKO AND INKED Y/N??? hold on i'm cooking

suna and y/n are both fighting for their lives trying to remain casual but they are literally the FARTHEST THING from acting casual

gonna reinforce this again but literally all the art suna sends y/n is actually stuff he's put up with her in mind <3

and suna got too nervous to say anything about how he feels to y/n because the timing just didn't feel right and then she was like "oh i forget we haven't been BEST FRIENDS forever"

he was biting his fist and going thru the five stages of grief trying to interpret the deeper meanings of that text

and atsumu was not sleeping yet while suna was texting y/n (and technically he did not giggle, it was just like little huffs of laughter whenever she said something cute, yk?)

but they both shut off their phones and immediately went to bed after seeing omi's reply they were literally laying in the dark terrified they were going to hear footsteps and banging on their door

i love including my own experiences in my writing (yes i was forced to learn relative tuning before ANYTHING else in a guitar class and then my high e string broke and attacked me </3)

and!! actually the picture suna uses on his twitter (the "i miss you) is a picture i took in new york <3 if u were wondering why it looks so ugly

and an extra note to provide more context for next chapter!! this away game is the last one before winter break <3 y/n mentioned the holidays in her earthen kiln post because next chapter will be about winter break just so everything is clear <3

taglist: @0moonii @iluvmang @bluebeanbee @oyasumeii @froyaoya @gyuijns @nbcvs @milkteade @guitarstringed-scars @makkir0ll @mylahrins @cherrypieyourface @vivian-555 @sharkerino @r0seandth0rns @staileykout @lunavixia @thvvluvr @elliott0o0 @wolffmaiden @rockleeisbaeeee @toges-cough-syrup @cnnmairoll @ryeyeyer @hibernatinghamster @localgaytrainwreck @lemonocity @bows4life @sereniteav @madiexuberant @eclecticeggknightpsychic @phoenix-eclipses @sonicsolos @httpakkeiji @brkfclub @snail-squasher @starry-magicshop @cr4yolaas @kitnootkat @zzzlevislothzzz @iluv-ace @iluvaquaphor @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @applepi25 @twiishaa @girlkissersco @sleepystrwbrryy @encrypta

#suna rintarou #suna rintaro #rintarou suna #suna #sunarin #suna x reader #suna smau #suna x reader smau #suna x reader fluff #haiykuu smau #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #hq #hq x reader

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savventeen · 1 year

Text

heart is full of fairy lights

pairing: joshua x gn!reader rating: G wc: ~1.3k summary: you finally return home to your apartment after studying abroad, and your roommate joshua can't seem to let you out of his sight. some potentially maybe-more-than-strictly-platonic feelings are had. warnings: none tags: fluff, pure fluff, oh my god they were roommates, friends to maybe-we-could-be-more-than-friends???? a/n: this is for the lovely ko-fi anon as part of my emergency commissions who requested "soft, fluffy, touch-starved shua" <3

Joshua can't seem to keep his hands off of you.

And not in a sexy way (shut up, Seokmin), but in a way that's... gentle. A simple need to be close and nothing more complicated than that. All night, he hasn't been more than an arms-length away from you. He was the first to greet you when you walked into your surprise "Welcome Back" party, and his touch has been trailing after you ever since.

Joshua can't seem to keep his hands off of you, and like a flower blooming towards the sun, you've been soaking up every ounce of his presence.

You'd missed him — more than you'd thought you would when you left to study abroad for the quarter.

Calls and texts and facetimes hadn't been enough, and as you sit together on the couch — surrounded by friends as you're pressed together at the shoulder, hip, and knee — you think maybe it hadn't been enough for him either.

It's late by the time the rest of your friends have trickled out of your apartment, leaving you and Joshua still pressed together on the sofa. The newfound silence is a peaceful relief, and you sigh as you let your head fall to the side, resting it on his shoulder. You only whine a little bit when he slightly adjusts your positions so that he can wrap an arm around your shoulders, giggling quietly at your annoyance.

"Long day?" he asks.

You simply groan in response, and he gives you a commiserating hum in return, squeezing your shoulders a bit.

God, you'd missed this so much. Just— getting to sit together and soak up the simple physical affection.

You're not sure how long the both of you sit there, but you think you might have nodded off because the next thing you know, Joshua is gently shaking your shoulder.

"Hey, y/n, c'mon, you can't sleep on the couch. Let's go to bed."

You know he's right, but you groan in frustration anyway and lean more of your body weight on him. "Make me," you pout.

His reply is immediate. "Okay."

Uh oh.

"Wait—"

And then he's sending you sprawling over the couch cushions as you let out an indignant squawk. You splutter as he stands up and holds out a hand to you, a calm smile on his face like he didn't just literally shove you over.

"How did I manage to forget how absolutely deranged you are?" you mutter as you grab his outstretched hand.

He shrugs at you, and then he pulls you up so you're both standing. You glare at him half-heartedly, and he just keeps smiling at you like the cat that caught the canary.

After a moment, something in his expression softens, and he gently squeezes your hand. "Let's go to bed. Also, um." His smile turns a little nervous at the corners. "I have a little surprise for you."

"A surprise?"

He nods. "Yeah, it's in your room, c'mon."

You follow him the few feet down the hall to your bedroom door, hand still clasped in his, and then he turns around to face you.

"Wait here," he blurts, dropping your hand as he opens the door and quickly slips inside, closing it right behind him.

You blink at the space where Joshua just was a second ago, wondering what kind of surprise needs him to leave you out in the hall like this.

Less than a moment later, he calls through the door, "Close your eyes!"

"What are you doing?" you call back, suspicious. You don't think he's about to pull some kind of prank, but you also wouldn't put it past him. Especially if he's been hanging out with Jeonghan recently.

"Just close them!"

"Ugh, fine." Still suspicious, you roll your eyes before doing as you're told.

"Are they closed?"

"Yes."

A pause. "Are you sure?"

Am I— You manage to keep your eyes closed as you roll them even harder. "Yes."

"But how can I be sure?" Even muffled through the door, you can hear the teasing in his voice.

"Joshua Hong."

There's a click as the knob turns and the near-silent whoosh of the door opening.

"You know I hate it when you use my full government name." The pout is evident in his voice.

"And you know I hate it when you keep me in the dark." You gesture to your still-closed eyes. "Literally, this time."

He huffs fondly. "Not for long."

Before you can open your mouth to reply, he gently grabs your shoulders and leads you into your room, shifting so that he's behind you.

The teasing atmosphere has melted away, and it leaves you standing in his warm presence. "Open them," he prompts quietly.

You do so, and you can't help the gasp that escapes your lips. "Oh my god, Shua."

Your room looks the same as normal, except instead of being lit by the standing lamp you keep in the corner, the room is softly illuminated by the strings of fairy lights now hanging above your bed.

"You've talked about getting them for forever and..." Joshua starts explaining. "I don't know, I just thought it would be a nice surprise to come home to."

You walk forward, out of Joshua's grasp to get a closer look at the lights. "It's beautiful," you murmur. And you're not just talking about the lights, you're talking about the gesture, too — the fact that Joshua took the time to get the lights and set them up in your room so that they'd be ready for you when you got back.

It's not a grand gesture by any means, but somehow, pressing into all the nooks and crannies of your jet-lagged heart, it feels like one.

You turn back around and without a word, wrap your arms around him and squeeze.

He immediately squeezes back, resting his head against yours. "Welcome back, y/n." He sighs, in what almost sounds like relief. "I missed you."

You know the tears that start to gather in your eyes are in part because of how exhausted you are, but the fact remains that you can't put into any kind of words just how much you missed him too, and just how much that feeling is bubbling up inside your chest and pressing against your ribs.

Squeezing back even tighter, you hope he can feel the I missed you, too you're trying to hug into him.

The world narrows down to just the two of you, holding each other in the glow of the fairy lights, and even though you know you need to sleep, you don't want to let this moment go — let him go.

So you don't. After a few moments, you start to waddle the both of you toward your bed, Joshua going along without complaint, and soon you're both tipping sideways onto the mattress with a startled oof.

You wiggle on top of the blanket until your head reaches your pillow, and you pull Joshua up along with you until you're lying face to face. The fairy lights above you paint galaxies in his eyes, and the look he's giving you is so full of something that it feels like your chest is filled with galaxies, too.

There's a lot that's going unsaid between the both of you, you know, but there's only one question you can think of asking right now.

"Stay?"

"Of course, y/n," he murmurs. And if his eyes hold galaxies, then his smile holds the moon, soft and beautiful and always waiting for you, no matter how far you go. "Always."

#joshua fluff #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #joshua x reader #joshua x y/n #joshua x you #svt fanfic #svt fic #seventeen fic #seventeen fanfic #savv writes #savv fics #hope u guys enjoy the fluff #im not a hundred percent satisfied with it but i hope u all still like it

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lacroixqueen · 2 years

Text

made your mark on me, a golden tattoo tattoo artist sevika x reader AU (18+)

Summary: you are getting your very first tattoo and sevika just so happens to be your tattoo artist. flirting and sexual tension ensue.

Pairing: tattoo artist sevika x reader AU

Word Count: 3357 (she's LONG)

Tags: soft sevika, unresolved tension, useless lesbians, gay panic, tattoo artist, tattoos, tattoo parlor

You shifted around the seat in the waiting room of the tattoo parlor for what felt like the hundredth time in the span of a single minute. For some reason you were a lot less nervous on the way here than you were literally waiting for your tattoo artist to set up the room and look over your art samples. You told yourself that this was something you were going to get done if it was the last thing you did.

I mean, for God’s sake, it was a brand new year, and you wanted your first tattoo to be something special, to carry meaning that only you will understand. Kind of like a little inside joke.

Apparently the tattoo artist you selected.. Sevika was it? Was quite well known throughout Zaun for several amazing masterpieces. She was attentive to detail, cared about each and every single one of her customer’s needs, and really wanted to make the best product possible for her clientele.

You crossed one leg over the other, folding your arms across your chest and heaved out a little sigh. She better damn well be. The waiting list for her business was about three months long. You made sure to do plenty of research before committing to something as permanent as a tattoo. I mean, it will stay on your body for the rest of your life. Perhaps even into your death.

You shuddered at the thought. Whatever. No matter what, it was far too late to turn back now. You already submitted your deposit, gave the artist the design you had in mind and for crying out loud, you were already here at the goddamn place. So might as well get this over with and try to have as few regrets as possible.

“Y/N?” a low and raspy voice called out from the back of the tattoo parlor. “I’m ready for you. You can come on back now.”

Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck. She was ready for you. Okay. What does that even mean? You stood up, dusting off your skirt and took a final big deep breath.

Just stay calm, you reassured yourself. Everything will be alright in the end. And if it isn’t, heck, maybe there is a surgeon in town who can remove it altogether and you can forget this even happened. Maybe that’s a bit of an overexaggeration.

You were greeted by what you could only describe as one of the most beautiful women you have ever seen. Sevika was tall. And just by the looks of her right shoulder and arm muscles bulging from underneath her black tank… you could tell she worked out. Like a lot. She was also smoking a thick cigar between her lips, so her already godlike silhouette was wrapped around in a dreamlike haze.

You muttered a little curse under your breath. As if matters couldn’t get possibly worse, your tattoo artist was hot. As in, very very very hot. This was going to be a long afternoon.

“You can take a seat right here,” she said with confidence, slapping the tattoo bed with a resounding echo.

“Oh, uh, yes okay,” you stammered, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear before hoisting yourself up in a less than dignified fashion.

“Are you nervous, Y/N?”

Oh no. From the corner of your eye, you could see she was smirking quite noticeably. Her eyes flicked over you just slightly. Shit. Was she checking you out? You didn’t even do your makeup properly today because you had no idea what she even looked like. If you had known earlier that she was this drop dead gorgeous piece perhaps you would have put in a bit more effort. You win some, you lose some, you suppose.

“J-just a little bit!” you squeaked out. “It’s my first tattoo, so I have no idea what to expect.”

“Well, let me just tell you that you have absolutely nothing to be nervous about, Y/N,” Sevika chuckled as she slid closer to you on her artist chair with your designs in either hand. “If I ever hurt you, you can always tell me to stop and I’ll go slower, okay?”

“Thank you!” Oh god. She smelled so good too.

“Of course. Sooo.. I got to take a look at your ideas last night and I honestly think they are great.” You watched as the thumb of her mechanical hand peeled back a page to glance at the alternate design.

“Really? You think so?”

“Absolutely. Although I think for this bottom part right here, we might need to make a small color adjustment since there might be some shading issues. And for the top corner here where it gets a little bit more complicated? I think I might do a little bit more dotwork to really flesh out the details. But uh, other than that, the stencil is essentially done.”

“Wow! Then, yes, perfect, let's just keep going then,” you gulped. Your eyes casually glazed over the extensive tattooing Sevika had all over her arm and neck.

“Excellent. So, I’ll just have you lay back and.. you wanted it on your side, right? Just lift up your top for me so I can have easy access to that part.”

“Oh um, sure!” You did as you were told, carefully unbuttoning your sweater and shrugging it off your shoulders. You then laid back, and lifted up your cami to reveal the right aspect of your body.

“Lovely,” she replied. “And.. may I?” Her mechanical fingertips lightly grazed over the top of your skirt.

You nodded vigorously. “Of course!”

With the most gentle touch you have ever felt, Sevika gingerly tugged your skirt down a little bit more so it rested comfortably on the roundest part of your right hip. She did the same with the pink lacy fabric of the thong you had on underneath. You tried to take a small breath as quietly as possible.

“Cute panties,” she commented almost a bit too nonchalantly before turning her back to you to slip on some latex gloves and ensure her work tray was all in order.

As if you weren’t already flustered beyond belief, now you might as well have been an uncontrollable mess. “Th-thanks! It’s from um, the store.”

She laughed ever so slightly. “Yeah, I figured as much. Sooo.. for the design. Were you thinking of having it more..” She trailed her gloved fingertip from your pantyline to the top of your chest. “Or more like here?” She ran her other hand over the curve of your waist all the way down to your hip.

“Uhm.. maybe kind of like.. both? If that makes sense? Like it can sort of spread from..” You gently took her wrist and guided her finger from your belly button all the way to the divot in your waist. “Like that?”

“Hmm.. yes. That should be perfectly fine.” She smirked a bit when you immediately released her arm from your grasp as if you were overstepping a boundary.

Without another word, she quickly sprayed some isopropyl alcohol into a wipe and proceeded to sanitize the area. “This might be a bit cold, I’m sorry babe.”

Babe? Did she just call you babe? Does she call all her clients babe? Or is it a little pet name that she only has reserved for you?

“I-it’s totally fine!” you yelped. But she was right. It was quite cold. She could tell you were lying through your teeth when your tummy suddenly clenched up.

“You can’t tense up just yet, doll. I haven’t even gotten the needles out,” she chuckled, lightly slapping your hip. “I need you to loosen up a bit, I don’t want you to be too tight.”

“R-right!” you replied. “Definitely don’t want that.” After a brief pause, you struggled to figure out if there was any sort of double meaning in her words. Or maybe you were just overthinking again.

She let out another hearty laugh and proceeded to massage in some warm lotions into the side of your body. “Just try to relax, hun.” You did as you were told, closing your eyes and making a futile attempt to count numbers. But she wasn’t making your life any easier with all these pet names. And why did her fingers have to feel so goddamn good simply by rubbing cream into your skin. It felt like it was working some type of dark magic, undulating in soft, round circles and moving rhythmically over your waist.

You could have melted into her hands right then and there.

“Okay, and now the stencil. This will feel a little bit wet, alright?”

You nodded your head, biting your lip so you wouldn’t accidentally yelp out. For some odd reason, even though you two just met, you felt very safe with Sevika. Like you could entrust your entire body and soul to her and she wouldn’t hurt any of it even if she was fully capable of doing so.

She smoothed out the stencil exactly over the part of your stomach and waist that you pointed to. She gently kneaded it into your skin, taking extra caution not to be too rough with you.

With one smooth motion, she removed the stencil and quickly leaned over you to ensure no detail of her handiwork got disrupted. That no stone was left unturned.

“Looks… just about.. perfect,” she muttered quietly. You could tell her tone has shifted slightly from the flirtatious one she took on earlier. Suddenly she was laser focused, ensuring that nothing, absolutely nothing would disturb the intricacy of her artwork.

“Great!” you chirped awkwardly, craning your neck over to see the stencil art. Good god. It looked absolutely breathtaking. Her line work was truly something out of this world. And she really did pay attention to every single request you made in your design. “Wow.”

She looked up, locking your gaze with the utmost intensity. “Yeah.” A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. She was quite pleased with herself.

She turned around to power on her tattoo machine.

“This part is going to hurt just a little bit, okay?” she spun around in her artist chair to check on you.

You nodded your head and exhaled ever so slightly. “Okay.” A giant lump was starting to form in your throat and you could feel yourself getting a bit worked up.

Sevika immediately held onto your hand and gave it a light squeeze. “If it ever starts hurting, just let me know and I will stop right away.”

“O-okay.”

“We’ll start with the first line. Take a deep breath and count to three for me, alright princess?” Sevika said as she positioned the tattoo gun at an angle to your skin.

Oh my god. Princess?! She definitely does not call all her clients that. Alright. Big deep breath. One.. two.. three-

The searing hot needle pierced into your skin like a knife.

“Ah~!” you let out a small cry and Sevika immediately stopped midline.

“Too fast?”

“A little bit.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“I’ll go a lot slower this time.”

You nodded and took in another breath. You felt Sevika’s gloved hand slide over the curve of your waist as she positioned herself to gain a little bit more control over her line. By god did her cologne smell amazing. When she leaned over your body, a few short pieces of her bangs would fall out and just barely graze over your exposed tummy. It was definitely getting a bit difficult for you to concentrate on your breathing and counting.

Sevika proceeded to carve out the central line of your tattoo design. She worked slowly and methodically, usually in complete silence. But for some reason when she was around you, she felt the urge to keep pushing the envelope and testing your limits.

“Good girl,” she would coo gently when she noticed your stomach beginning to relax.

“That’s my good girl..” she would say again when she finished a piece of detailing while you stayed quiet and still.

You would moan softly every now and then when you felt the needle dig into your skin and Sevika would respond by going just a touch slower and smirking to herself. Secretly, she loved hearing how adorable and helpless her clients sounded when she sank the tattoo needle deep into their skin. Her sadistic nature was one of the primary reasons she decided to go into tattooing as a prime business.

To have someone completely in her control, at her disposal. To leave a permanent mark on their bodies that would forever remind them of their experience with her. To watch them writhe in pain, or sometimes even pleasure. It was like a drug she simply could not get enough of.

And you. Something about the way you squirmed was extra fucking enticing and she couldn’t quite put a finger on it.

In fact, she could feel you wriggling ever so slightly even now. “Stay still for me, angel.”

And you would immediately stop. Her voice was soft, but also definitively commanding. She needed to focus. To have you moaning and writhing was too much even for her. Her mind would begin to wander to dangerous places.

Like how it would feel to start ramming into your cunt right then and there and watching how your sensitive body would react to her thrusts. How irresistible and beckoning your moans would sound as they ricocheted off the walls, encouraging her to pound into you so rough and so hard you just couldn’t take it anymore. How cute you would look clutching onto your sweater for comfort, or holding onto the sides of the tattoo bed for dear life.

You would be lying if you said you weren’t fantasizing about a million hypothetical scenarios in your head.

Having Sevika press her bicep over the top of your stomach to hold you still just did something to your psyche that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Your eyes danced over the detailing of her own tattoo. It looked to be very intricate and well-thought out… wait a second. Was that supposed to be Zaun?!

“Um, I-I like your tattoo!” you chirped meekly. “It’s really beautiful.”

“Thanks baby,” she smirked to herself. “I designed it myself, actually.”

“Do.. you call all your clients that?” you asked out of the curiosity that was beginning to kill you slowly.

Sevika suddenly paused in the middle of her tattooing to glance over at you.

“Only my favorite ones,” she said with a wink before returning to her work.

Oh my god. Why does she keep doing that? It’s starting to become unfair. Like she was getting off the high of torturing you and watching your pathetic reactions. And what did she mean by “favorite ones”? So she flirts with all her clients she finds attractive? What does that even mean?!

Every now and then, Sevika would sneak a glimpse over towards you. She loved the way your chain necklace rested so comfortably over the top of your collarbone. Or how plump and kissable your lips looked in the dim lighting of the parlor. Or how your legs were beginning to spread instinctively the closer her tattoo work moved to the top of your skirt.

Sevika had to fight every last urge in her body to not reach down into your panties and start pleasuring you the way you deserved right then and there on top of that tattoo bed. But she knew she had a job to finish, regardless of how damn adorable you looked and sounded as she drew on the finishing touches of your tattoo.

“Okay.. almost done,” she said. “You are doing so good, sweetheart.”

You winced a little bit when you felt the needle dig just a bit deeper than usual at the last pattern. Was she trying to tease you back there? Or was that absolutely necessary to finish off the line? Whatever. You tried not to overthink it, even though you have been doing so this entire time.

“Alright..” Sevika hummed. “Why don’t you step off the bed and take a look in the mirror over there?”

You did as you were told, hopping off and hobbling over to the full-length mirror across the room. You tilted your head to the side, gently lifting up your cami again to look over the tattoo. Wow. She really did a stunning job. You were a bit surprised, given the fact that she was flirting with you half the time. But holy.. every single piece of line art and dot work flowed so evenly with each other. The design came out exactly the way you had imagined it.

Sevika gave out a low whistle of approval from behind you.

You jumped a little bit out of surprise. Sevika had snuck up on you without you even noticing. And god. Just by looking in the mirror she was already towering over you.

“It’s… beautiful,” you said softly. “It’s exactly what I wanted.”

“That’s wonderful,” Sevika replied. “Now, can you take your cami off for me, Y/N?”

“M-my cami?”

Sevika chuckled and raised up the medical grade bandage she had in her hand. “For this.”

“Oh. Right. Yes. Absolutely.”

You gently tugged off your shirt and tossed it onto a nearby countertop to reveal a pink lacy bra. Sevika tried not to comment on it but she did in fact take note of how good you looked in it. And how badly she wanted to take it off you right then and there.

Sevika stepped forward so she placed her thigh between your legs and carefully laid the clear bandage over the top of your tattoo. She gently rubbed it in with her thumb and index finger, making sure to smooth out any uneven edges or creases. She smiled a bit to herself when she felt how hard and fast your heartbeat was pounding against your stomach, or how much warmer your skin felt compared to before.

“Perfect,” she said, quickly removing her gloves and handing you back your shirt. “So, for this bandage, think of it as like a second layer of skin that offers extra protection. Leave it on for the next few days. Then I would rinse it off with some warm water. Oh and, definitely moisturize.” Her tone shifted from flirtatious to professional and matter-of-fact in what felt like a split second. How did she keep doing that?!

“Y-yes ma’am!” you sputtered out, returning to the tattoo bed to shrug on your sweater and gather your belongings.

“And the payment is already taken care of since I saw you submitted your deposit in advance, so I believe you are all set,” Sevika said.

“Great! Um.. thank you Sevika. I was super nervous going into this but you definitely made me feel a whole lot better afterwards.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” she replied, giving you another flirty grin. “Oh, and uh-” The tattoo artist went behind the front counter to dig around a bit until she fished out a slightly bent business card and handed it over to you. “Call me.”

“C-call you?! As in like- Oh my god. I’m.. not sure if I would feel.. I mean, isn’t this kind of fast?”

“I meant to update me on your tattoo healing,” Sevika chuckled. “Don’t get too ahead of yourself, princess.”

“Right, right, no yes that makes total and complete sense,” you responded, folding the business card nervously into your palm. “Um.. well I guess I’ll.. call you.”

“Yeah.” She had already followed you to the doorframe and you were standing in the streets of the undercity at this point. “I’ll see you around, alright Y/N?”

“Okay! Yes. Um. Bye! Thank you!” You quickly scurried off into the busy crowds of Zaun, disappearing into the darkness once more.

You were quite certain that if you didn’t act, that you would barely see Sevika again, save an occasional run-in at the liquor store or maybe a random night at The Last Drop. So you didn’t want to take any chances.

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maeeatsfood · 1 year

Text

When we meet again-✩ Ellie Williams

(when we meet part two❤️)

PAIRING — next door neighbor!ellie x reader

SUMMARY — after your hookup in ellie’s room, she takes you on a date and you guys start dating <3

CW — lots of fluff in the beginning and end, smut mdni!! strap-on usage r!receiving, oral e!receiving, switch!ellie, switch!reader (kinda). reader and ellie are 19. praise kink😭, pet names instead of y/n (only used in texts)

A/N — heres the part two you guys are asking for. also TYSM for all the likes i got for part one especially because i haven’t written much!!

tags: @ucannotcompare @glennns-blog @gold-dustwomxn

part one

this song kinda fits the plot🙏

after what had happened at the millers house with ellie, you couldn’t get her off of your mind. you guys texted everyday, even though you guys live right next to each other, and you were very thankful for that. the main reason you guys messaged each other instead of going to the others persons house is because you were sexting, but your parents were home.

you were super excited for your date with ellie, and you wanted to see what she had planned for you. ellie was really sweet to you and your past conversations could prove that, and it made you even more enthused that someone like her had taken an interest in you.

tonight was the night of your date and you swore your whole sense of style disappeared. you had been rummaging through your closet for the past 30 minutes and you couldn’t find anything. you had 40 minutes until your date and you thanked God that ellie was your neighbor.

after about ten more minutes of searching, you had finally decided on a dress. it was navy blue, short, and a little bit tight. it had thin straps, a small slit on the left side at the bottom, and it hugged your body just right.

you had just finished up your hair and makeup, and you were nervous af. ellie was super nice, funny, and caring, but you were just… you.

ellie <3: im omw, babe. about 30 seconds away.

y/n: ellie lmao😭

that was the exact reason you loved ellie. she was fucking hilarious and it made your day every. single. time. you felt like you were already in love. you were, and she was too.

you were snapped out of your thoughts by a knock on your door, it was ellie. you rushed downstairs and you quickly put on your heels. you then smoothed down your dress, caught your breath, and opened the door.

you swore you saw an angel, because ellie looked amazing. she was wearing a black, button-up dress shirt and her usual black skinny jeans. her sleeves were rolled up a bit, revealing the tattoo that made her 10x hotter. what made it even better was that her hair was in a half-up bun, a few strands decorating her face.

ellie then wrapped her arms around your waist for a hug, knowing she’d missed you even though you could literally see each other whenever you wanted. lazy asses

“God, you’re so beautiful,” she said, smiling into the crook of your neck. your cheeks flushed at the compliments, knowing your attraction for her grew every second day.

“you look good too, els,” you said with a bright smile on your face, not caring if she saw or not. you wanted her to know how much you liked her and it was hard to hide it. you were surprised that your family didn’t notice. you weren’t out yet so they thought you two were just close friends.

she smiled, kissing your cheek after. “lets go, i have something special planned for us.” her sentence made you smile widely, internally screaming (happily) that you get to spend time with her.

——————

it was after the date, and ellie had promised one more surprise. 2 if you include her dicking you down. you didn’t even care what it was at this point, you just knew it would please you if it was from ellie.

for your date, you two had went to this fancy restaurant, and you absolutely loved it. the food was great, amazing service, but most importantly, you were with ellie. you guys literally flirted the whole time.

so now, you were in her room. her walls were decorated with posters and drawings. she had an olive green comforter, white sheets hiding underneath. her pillow cases matched the comforter and they were probably the softest thing you had laid your head on.

you were on the end of ellies bed and she was at the top, guitar in her hands and fingers strumming away. she played beautifully so you couldn’t help but smile. the way she looked at you while playing was so sweet and heartwarming, you melted.

she played a few songs, all calming and welcoming. she had an amazing singing voice as well, soft and raspy. she had you wrapped around her finger, though you only knew her for a week.

she had finished playing, and you couldn’t help but tell her how good she had sounded. you were so impressed and happy, especially because it was all for you.

“wow, els. that was amazing,” you said with an adoring look in your eyes, admiring the way she had played for you and how cute she looked while doing it.

“thank you, i played my best just for you,” ellie said with a big smile painting her face, causing you to do the same.

she smirked, leaning in closer to you. your eyes were focused on her lips, your cheeks turning a light shade of crimson. “no ones gonna be home tonight,” she spoke, causing your lips to go slightly agape “so i could play my songs a bit louder for you,” she said in a teasing tone, causing you to roll your eyes and hit her shoulder playfully.

she chuckled before finally closing the gap between you two. she rested her hand on the back of your neck, yours on her cheek. your lips moved in sync together perfectly, the kiss turning sloppy and dirty quickly.

you couldn’t help but moan into her mouth, the way her lips felt against yours was intoxicating. she took this into account before laying down and moving you to straddle her, grabbing your ass in the process.

“mmh i missed this,” she whispered, her words muffled by your mouth. you giggled and continued kissing her, body overcoming with lust and causing an ache in between your legs.

she soon started tugging on your dress, wanting it off immediately. you just nodded and pulled away from the kiss to help her pull it off of your body.

“have i told you how pretty you are?,” she asked, not giving you time to answer before reaching down and rubbing your clothed cunt.

“mmh only like a million times. e-ellie wait,” you were desperate to make ellie feel as good as she had made you feel last week. as soon as these words left your lips, she stopped her movements.

she looked up at you, concern in her eyes as she wondered why you had wanted her to stop. “i wanna make you feel good too, els. you did it last time,” you said, a playful frown showing on your lips.

your words made a pool of wetness form in her boxers, desire glazing over her eyes. “okay, baby. go ahead,” you practically squealed at her reaction, making her chuckle.

you then unbuttoned her shirt, removing it from her figure. you then moved to unbutton her jeans, sliding them down her legs. you giggled when you saw the growing wet patch on her boxers, trying your best to ignore your own.

you slowly pulled down her boxers, leaving them to pool at her ankles. you bit your lip before licking up her wet slit. a soft grunt escaped her throat, hand snaking into your hair.

you then circled her clit with your tongue, moving to suck on the swollen bud. “fffuck just like that,” she groaned, signaling you to speed up your movements.

you sped up your attack on her clit, sucking harshly. her whimpers filled the room, hands fisting your hair roughly, causing you to moan into her cunt.

“go a little easy on me b- fuuuck- babe” you looked up at her, and she swore she was in heaven right then and there. you looked like the most gorgeous thing she had ever seen. doe-eyed, juices dripping down your nose and chin, hair already messy.

you continued your harsh movements on her cunt, driving her to the edge. “fuck yeah, right there. doin’ so good for me, baby. gonna make me cum all over that pretty fuckin’ mouth.”

her hips bucked up into your mouth, your spit and her juices mixing together. you licked up and down her clit feverishly, moving it in circles again. “thats it, ah im gonna cum, baby,” you nodded, nose bumping against her clit, causing her orgasm to wash over her.

your tongue lapped up at her juices before you moved your head up to kiss her. as she tasted herself on your tongue, she fucking moaned into your mouth.

“you’re so good, babe. im gonna make you feel good, yeah?,” you nodded desperately, causing her to laugh at your eagerness. she got up, legs slightly wobbly as she made her way to the closet.

you js laid there like🧍‍♀️

you laid on the bed, waiting for her to comeback. she walked back over to the bed, black strap attached to her hips. your lips parted slightly, knowing you’ve never done anything like this before.

“wait, i’ve never done anything like this before, ellie,” you said and her gaze softened. “okay, i’ll go easy on you, pretty girl. if you want me to stop just say the word,” she smiled reassuringly and you nodded.

she slowly ran her hands down your body, stopping at the rim of your panties. “can i take these off?,” she asked sweetly and you nodded. “nuh-uh. no more nodding. use your words.”

“you can take them off, please,” she smirked and hooked her fingers into your panties, sliding them down your legs and onto the floor. she took her strap and rubbed the tip along your folds, causing you to whimper.

“its okay, baby. i gotcha,” she cooed, slowly pushing the tip inside of you. you whined, insides clenching around nothing.

——————

pants and mewls filled the room as ellie pounded into you, the dildo crushing your g-spot repeatedly. your hands clinging to ellies shoulders, scratching the skin. your skin now covered in purple/red marks.

you had gotten used to the stretch and you told ellie to go faster. there was something wrong with you.

“yeah, you like that? you like my cock, baby?,” she asked, the bed shaking from her intense movements. thats how desperate you both were.

“yeah you fuckin’ love it. good girl,” she replied before you got a chance to. the praise made even more slick run down your thigh. ellie seemed to notice this, smirking to herself. you felt the coil in your stomach growing tighter, ready to snap.

ellie practically felt you clenching around her strap, biting down on her lip as she saw it disappearing inside of your cunt. “you gonna cum, sweet girl? mmh you’re squeezing me in,” she cooed, causing your cunt to squeeze even tighter around the silicone.

“y-yes, please g’nna cum ellieeee,” you responded, causing her to let out a low chuckle.

“atta girl, thats it,” her words sent you over the edge. you never knew you were a praise kinda girl but there you were, seeing stars because the girl of your dreams was praising you.

you were seeing stars, colors, and all types of shit when you came. it was the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had. (it was only your second one🌚)

ellie slowly pulled out, taking the strap off and going to the bathroom. she came back with a wet cloth, cleaning up your sensitive cunt.

you winced, and she reassured you. “shh, its okay. i gotcha, baby.” You nodded as she finished cleaning you up, giving you a pair of her boxers and a shirt to sleep in.

after you finished changing, she gave you a glass of water and laid next to you, rubbing your shoulder. “are you okay? did i hurt you?,” she asked in the softest voice possible.

“im okay, ellie. it was really good,” you said with a sweet smile. she nodded and held you close.

“is it too late to ask you to be my girlfriend?” you laughed and shook your head.

“yes, ellie. i’ll be your girlfriend you dork,” you giggled out and she chuckled. she gave you a sweet kiss on the forehead, now rubbing your back.

you guys spent the rest of the night like that, talking and laughing, sharing small kisses while doing so. you were already in love and you could tell she was too

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