#And while adding his freckles

[jeonginsleftcheek]

Dolly III

~ part 3 of the Dolly series

pairing: lee felix x afab!reader

genre: smut, fluff, elements of horror

synopsis: as a rare doll collector, a unique sex doll piques your interest and you have to own it.

wc: 8.2k

warnings: mentions of bruises, blood and needles, some violence, haunted dolls

nsfw warnings: grinding, praise, lots of kissing, body worship, handjob, cum tasting, oral (m and f), unprotected sex, creampie

~ divider by @bunnysrph

"Good morning, Matilda. Prudence, how do you do? Ah, Mr. Avery. Looking particularly swell today." the dolls stare at you with their big eyes and smiling faces while you greet them just like every day.

Whistling about the kitchen as you prepare breakfast, your life companions are always there to listen to you and bring you comfort.

"You know, we have an exciting new family member arriving to us today. I'm expecting all of you to act polite and give him a warm welcome to his new home." you point your spatula at the dolls that were decorating the kitchen.

"I mean all of you!" you yell out, chuckling after.

"We all know what happens to naughty dolls. You don't want to experience the same scorching punishment they did." you smirk at them and though they are usually silent, it seems like they're even more quiet now.

Alive in your mind, they've heard you and are now shivering in fear but anticipating the arrival of the newest addition to your precious collection.

You really do expect them to be on their best behavior.

Not long after breakfast, your package arrives.

You practically rip open the huge box and tear off all the covers and bubble wrap, throwing them carelessly behind you.

"Oh!" you gasp.

"My my, you're just such a beauty, aren't you?" you smile at the doll staring at you from the box.

"You look like a little angel." your hands cup his cheeks.

"So soft. So sweet. You're going to be perfect for us." you look at him fondly. "Welcome home, Felix."

You lean down to kiss his cute nose, observing the freckles on his face.

He is just stunning, every little crease on him looks perfect and most importantly; he looks alive.

Yes, people might be creeped out by your love of dolls, collecting them, playing with them and hanging out with them but you never cared.

They were everything to you ever since you were a little girl so you spent so much money on getting the most rare and unique dolls you could, even getting a few ones that were supposedly haunted.

The thought of that exhilirated you, and you were convinced all of them were alive especially after you'd find them in different places or hear them giggle and whisper.

You loved that, respected the dolls and their needs but you always let them know that you were the head of the house.

It was going to be the same with this special doll.

As soon as you saw the ad, you wished you could buy all eight of them and have the rarest and craziest collection ever but they were so expensive so you settled on getting only Felix.

He just seemed so sweet and innocent to you, out of all 8 of them, you thought he looked the most doll-like and would go perfectly with your porcelain doll collection; just one of many you had.

You didn't care much that he was a sex doll, but seeing him now up close made you understand the appeal for that too.

You grabbed the manual to skim over it, not really caring about what it says, you were more interested in the letter that was in Felix's hand.

You slowly picked it up and opened it.

Hello,

my name is Felix and I am your comforting doll.

I love cuddles, hugs and kisses, sweets (especially chocolate). And videogames!

Please always keep me close to you as I love to feel your warmth, and no matter what you do with me always end it with a sweet kiss.

"You're a little cuddlebug, hm?" you pout at him. "You're just becoming cuter by the second!"

Finding another paper tucked in the pocket of his jeans, you pull it out and open it too.

My darling!

I'm ready for our first cuddling session!

I hope you bring fluffy pillows and enjoy our first night together.

"Ah! So adorable!" you squeal. "Let me introduce you to everyone." you add, quickly grabbing him and lifting him up.

"Fam, this is Felix, a very special doll. I expect you give him a warm welcome and help him feel at ease here. This is now his home as much as it is yours and I will not tolerate any sour behavior!" you say.

Of course, it's quiet but you know that they've understood you.

One of the ventriloquist dolls lips open and you chuckle.

"Yes, Parker. I know he's pretty. Now close your mouth or you'll catch flies." you chuckle, standing up and making your way to the doll.

With your fingers on its chin, you gently close the wooden doll's mouth.

"Now, where were we? Ah, yes! That outfit is atrocious. But don't worry, sweet Felix. I already prepared clothes that I know will fit your pretty face perfectly." you smirk, hoisting Felix in your arms and lifting him up.

Once you make it to your bedroom, you gently lay him down on your fluffy bed and open your wardrobe, looking at the neatly hung up outfits you had ordered online right after ordering Felix.

The dolls on the shelves all stare at him as you whistle a tune, picking out his outfit.

"This should do it." you grab one of them and make your way towards your bed.

"Let's get you out of this... whatever it is." you grip the hem of his shirt, slowly lifting it up and gasping when you notice his abs.

"Interesting." you poke his stomach and then his side. "I bet you're ticklish." you add, sliding his arms out of the shirt and tossing it aside.

"Oh!" you gasp again, noticing a few freckles on his chest. "You're so precious, Felix." your finger traces his beauty marks gently, almost making you hypnotized.

You snap out of it and unbutton his jeans, pulling the zipper down and feeling your face flush when you realize your touch had aroused the doll.

"Did you get excited, precious dolly?" you giggle at him, before looking around at the other dolls who were fixated on Felix.

"It is rude to stare." you chastise them, but they continue looking as you slide his pants down and toss them on the floor.

"I think you need help with this, Lixie." you chew on your lip as you hook your fingers in his boxers.

As soon as you slide them down, a wave of embarassment washes over you as you stare at his hard cock, glistening at the tip.

It seems that there are a few freckles on his length too and your thighs press together involuntarily.

It's been a while since you've been with someone, most people you tried to date couldn't understand your obsession with dolls and there was no way you were going to choose them over your doll family.

But, seeing that Felix was a doll and a sex doll at that, you didn't see harm in using him for what he's made for.

"We can help each other, but you can forget about putting that inside me." you warn, lifting your dress up and pushing your panties down.

"This will have to suffice, my little Lixie." you giggle as you throw your leg over him and press your wet core against his cock.

Slowly, you start grinding against him, your arousal coating his cock and balls, little whimpers leaving your mouth as you close your eyes and throw your head back.

It really has been so long, and Felix is so warm and pliant, laying under you taking it.

You speed up as you feel your high building up, you look back down at him and notice that his cheeks are rosy, making him look even cuter.

You whimper as you stare at his pretty face, his tip catching onto your clit a few times and almost slipping inside.

"Don't be naughty, Lixie. Or I'll have to punish you." you whine as his cock catches on your entrance, the tip twitching inside you.

It's as if something flashes in his eyes and you whimper loudly, cumming all over his cock and riding your high against his throbbing erection.

"You didn't cum yet?" you pout, remembering there was something about that in the manual.

"Ah, yes, you like having your hair pulled on." you smirk and continue grinding against him, your fingers now tangled in his hair.

"Cum for me, my angel." you pull on his hair and his cock twitches against your wetness before he explodes on his abs, the warm liquid pooling around his belly button and making you more wet as you grind on him once again, his cum smeared on your cunt.

You look at him as you stop your movements, your heart beating fast.

"Look what a mess we made, Lixie." you shake your head before getting up and heading to the bathroom, the dolls chilling in your room still with their eyes fixed on Felix.

You come back after cleaning yourself up to clean him too, so you can dress him in the clothes you bought him.

It's a bit of a struggle but you get a feeling that Felix really wants to cooperate.

"There, now you look like a real angel." you smile as you lean back, satisfied with the white loose pants and the white shirt, embroidered with golden flowers.

"I have some work to do on you yet." you sit him up and then grab some of your makeup.

You gently work on his face, putting some light gold eyeshadow on his eyelids, a few sparkles under his eyes and he seems to be pouting.

"You think I forgot to give you a sweet kiss, don't you?" you smirk. "I didn't, don't worry."

You finish up on his eye makeup then grab a pink lipstick, opening it up and applying it on your lips first.

"A finishing touch." you lean in, holding his face before you press your lips into his heart shaped ones, kissing him gently.

You giggle as you lean away, removing the smeared lipstick and repairing what stayed on his lips with your finger as he practically stares at you.

His eyes seem shiny and warm, something deep and dark inside them too and you can't look away.

"My sweet Lixie. So good for me." you kiss his nose and then his cheeks, making sure to kiss his pretty freckles.

You almost get completely lost in him, forgetting about the dolls watching you until one of them falls down onto the floor with a loud thud, making you jerk away from Felix.

"Jonathan! You startled me!" you reprimand the wooden doll before standing up and coming to it.

You take him in your arms and look at him.

"Are you jealous?" you ask as you gently put him back in his place, fixing his shirt and hat.

"Don't worry, I love you all equally." you pat the doll's head before turning to look at Felix.

You have a feeling that might change soon.

-

You take Felix to your workshop, a small room where you dedicate your time to repair dolls, sew their torn clothes or make them new outfits, sometimes even making a few dolls of your own.

"Welcome to my workshop, Lixie. I spend lots of time here so I guess you will too. Now, I should've started with this, but you... distracted me." your eyes fall down to his crotch before you look up at him.

"I will make sure you have everything you need and I will always treat you well, but of course I expect that to be reciprocated. Which means you are to behave well in this house, listen to what I say and be good to your brothers and sisters. If you ever do something to break the rules, there will be repercussions. And trust me, you don't want to get on my bad side." you wave your finger at the doll and it seems like he's listening intently, his eyes seemingly fearful as you sit across from him, making eye contact.

"Don't be scared, Lixie. I have a feeling that you're a good boy and that you'll be obedient. We will have no problems, you and I. I'll even reward your good behavior." you smirk at him, caressing his soft cheeks.

You lean in to press a kiss on his lips before you turn to your table and start working on your broken dolls.

Felix stares at you from where you left him, his hands tucked in his lap and eyes fixed on your hunched frame.

You almost forget about his presence as you concentrate on your work, every detail you sew into their clothes, the love you pour into them, in a way giving them a soul of their own.

Your hands seemed to dance as you kept working, until you felt a sharp pain in your neck.

"Ow!" you mutter and sit up, realizing you've been hunched over for too long, your shoulders tense, pain throbbing in your neck. "Time for a break." you announce, your stomach growling after that.

"And food, I guess." you turn to Felix, finally acknowledging his existence.

He looks to you like he wants to say something, even though he is sitting still.

"What is it, Lixie?" you lean in closer, looking right into his eyes.

He stays silent.

"Ah, you're shy. You'll come around. I'll wait for you to show yourself to me." you smirk, kissing his nose, your fingertips tracing the pretty freckles on his face.

After giving him a little kiss, you take him to your garden, which was thankfully surrounded by a tall wooden fence, hiding you away from the rest of the world.

"Sit here and I'll be right back." you sit him down on one of the fancy chairs, brushing away the hair that fell into his face.

You bring a few of your other dolls, sitting them down on the other chairs, bringing all of them a set of china; plates, cups and everything.

It's all themed with pink flowers, making everything look even more proper and fancy.

"Socialize." you wave your hand before disappearing into the kitchen, preparing a quick lunch for yourself.

You walk out into the garden some 15 minutes later with a plate of food for yourself and a glass of juice.

"I hope you're being nice to Felix." you say as you sit down, eyeing the four dolls sitting around the table, Felix being exactly across from you.

He looks a tad timid, and you're 100% sure that the expressions on his face keep changing, you know you're not just imagining it because other dolls you own have changed expressions or positions, some even giggled and whispered.

With your doll experience, Felix doesn't scare you, quite the opposite, you're waiting for him to start talking.

You make small talk with your dolls, about this beautiful day, how sunny and warm it is, how good lunch turned out.

As you continued talking, suddenly one of the cups started shaking and you look at the porcelain doll sitting next to Felix.

"Jenevieve. Don't do that! Behave." you warn but it's too late, the cup flies right into Felix's side, hitting him hard before crashing onto the floor, pieces of it flying everywhere.

Anger bubbles up in your veins as you take a deep breath in.

"You little bitch." you almost growl at the porcelain doll before standing up abruptly and grabbing a fistful of her hair.

"That's it, you're getting punished!" you seethe, walking back into the house as you carry her by her hair all the way down to the basement.

"You're gonna think long and hard about your behavior. And after you do, you will apologize to Felix. Like it or not he is family now." you say before laying the doll in a box and locking it.

"I know you're claustrophobic. So this will be a nice lesson for you never to misbehave again." you smirk before making your way back upstairs.

You quickly run to Felix, gasping when you notice a single tear running down his cheek.

"I'm sorry, angel." you wipe it away quickly, kissing his cheek after.

"Let's see the damage." you undo his shirt and sure enough there is a bruise forming on his side.

"For this, Jenevieve will get a week in the dungeon." you say angrily, your fingertips brushing against the bruise. "I'll take care of you, sweet Lixie. I promise that'll never happen again."

-

The same evening, you brought Felix to your bed, stripping him out of the shirt so you could take care of his bruise.

You flip through the manual seeing the warning about not bruising the doll and anxiety washes over you, hoping he wasn't now damaged in some irreparable way.

You rummage through your bathroom cabinet, finding a cream that was used for bruises, skipping back to Felix.

"Well, you're warm, you can blush, bruise and cry. And... cum." you giggle quietly. "So I guess this would help you?" you purse your lips before taking some cream out and gently applying it on his bruise.

"There-" you pause, seeing a bulge growing in his pants. "Really? You're so sensitive." you tsked, your hands on his thighs, gripping the flesh shortly.

You look at Felix's face and melt.

He's blushing again, his cheeks rosy followed by the tips of his ears becoming red.

"You're such a cutie." you coo at him. "But you're gonna have to wait a bit. I have to take off your make up and brush your hair. I want you to be all comfy in bed." you nod to yourself, getting up to retrieve makeup wipes and a brush.

You start gently removing his makeup, leaving little kisses on his cheeks and nose, pressing your lips into his plush ones.

After cleaning him up, you take the brush and sit him up more comfortably so you can start brushing his hair.

"Oh you really like this." your eyes widen as you notice him twitching in his pants. "Like your hair played with, my pretty angel?" you twirl a strand of his soft hair between your fingers.

"Give me three minutes." you hurry to your bathroom to get ready for bed before skipping back to Felix excitedly.

"I'm here sweetie." you grab his face and crash your lips against his.

The way he was made, his lips seemed to be kissing back, so soft and sweet against yours.

You kissed him for some time, already addicted to his taste before you started leaving kisses on his jaw, all the way to his ear.

He only seemed to become even more red, the color seeping onto his neck and chest.

"My shy Lixie." you giggle, leaving kisses on the column of his neck.

He feels so soft and smells so sweet, making you want to do this forever, just kiss him everywhere as he lays and takes it.

You liked being in control, it made you feel powerful as your hands roamed all over his body, his skin so soft like a baby's, you couldn't stop touching him.

Your lips covered every inch of Felix as you kissed his chest, his arms, his stomach, his hands.

Taking your sweet time to worship him.

You slid his pants off, getting up to put them on the chair where you've already left the shirt.

Felix was blushing profusely and he was very warm as you touched him, his cock throbbing, the tip red and angry, glistening with his wetness.

"You're working yourself up, dolly. You need to calm down a little or I won't give you what you want." you smirk, sliding your hands on his supple thighs, up to his balls where you lightly grazed them with your fingertips.

His cock twitched in protest, his face even redder now.

"If you act naughty, I'll leave you like this all night. Don't test me, my little prince."

Felix's lips seemed pouty at that and you waited a little, only gently caressing his smooth arms, the redness of his face and body subsiding slowly until only his cheeks were rosy like before.

"Good boy." his cock leaked and twitched at the praise.

"Ah, my dolly likes to be praised?" you giggled delightfully, smoothing out his hair.

"I'll keep that in my mind." you winked at him, fingertips grazing against his length before you finally wrapped your hand around him.

"Good boys get rewards." you coo at him, thumbing at his wet slit.

Felix's ears become red again.

"I'll take care of you, sweetie. Don't worry." you whisper as you lean down, leaving kisses all over his skin as you start moving your hand.

You play with him for as long as you want to, torturing his cock as you alternate between fast and slow movements, at times using only one hand and then both or fondling his balls, your lips never leaving his heated skin.

You explore him with your tongue, swirling it around his nipples and noticing how he got even more wet because of it.

"So sensitive. Cute." you kiss his lips, your hand tangling in his hair.

"You wanna cum, dolly? Ah, I wish I could hear you beg, I bet you'd sound so sweet all desperate for me." you coo at Felix, gripping his hair and pulling it back as you jerk him off faster.

He explodes all over your hand and himself, making you gasp from the amount that spurted out, curiosity taking you over as you scoop some of it on your finger, licking it up.

"Mm. Are you strawberry flavored?" you chuckle, swirling your finger in his cum to lick at it again.

"Maybe cotton candy?" you giggle again before kissing him sweetly.

You clean Felix up and cozy up to him, curling your body around his as you wrap your arms around him.

You hope that from that day on, everything goes smoothly; without any more incidents.

The following week passed by just as you expected, with no incidents, the dolls now on their best behavior after they've witnessed Jenevieve being dragged down to the basement.

Felix became an obsession of sorts, you just couldn't keep your hands off of him.

You've never owned a doll like him, and to say that you're infatuated is an understatement.

Constantly kissing him and touching him made you equally as aroused as it did him.

You wanted him in every way, but you didn't want to use all his capabilities on your own, instead you wished he'd snap out of it and do it by himself, participate and react to your touches more than just heating up, blushing or twitching.

You felt sad every day you had to leave for work, leaving Felix alone with the other dolls.

You warned them not to try anything or you'd burn them to a crisp.

But as you finally let Jenevieve out, hoping she had learned her lesson, you had no idea how it would actually make all hell break loose.

"Now, Jenevieve I hope you're sorry for what you've done and that you understand why it was wrong. This can never happen again, okay?" you told her before putting her back in her place.

You sat Felix on your bed, caressing him and kissing him for some time.

"Be a good boy, Lixie." you kiss his forehead.

"And all of you too. Behave or else." you give Felix one last kiss before leaving the house.

It was obvious that some of your dolls felt neglected.

This was their home and in their eyes Felix was an intruder they had to get rid of.

He was taking up all your time, soaking up all your attention, getting all your love.

There were dolls that didn't agree, they liked Felix and thought he was sweet just like you did.

Some were just scared to share their opinion, afraid of being locked in the basement, smashed to pieces or burned into ashes.

The neglected dolls had come up with a plan.

They were going to destroy Felix so by the time you come home, there is nothing left to salvage.

-

"I'm home!" you announced cheerfully as you entered your house, a bag of groceries secured in your arm.

Whistling, you made your way to the living room but stopped dead in your tracks when you saw a few drops of red liquid on the floor, something that looked like blood.

You stood in shock for a moment before dropping the bag of groceries on the floor, as they made a loud thud sound, the apples you bought rolling around your living room.

With a gasp, you started running up the stairs, all of them painted in little red dots, anxiety building up with each step you took.

When you reached your bedroom, a shriek escaped your lips, echoing off of the walls.

Felix was thrown on the floor, his body and face bruised and cut up, the outfit you dressed him in torn into pieces.

What was most concerning was the blood dripping out of his wounds.

Your heart started beating fast in fear.

Noticing Jenevieve standing in the corner together with some of your other dolls made your blood boil, your body starting to shake with rage as your eyes blurred with tears.

With a loud growl as rage took you over completely, you ran downstairs to grab your sledgehammer.

"I told you. I told you to behave!" you screamed at the culprits, lifting up your weapon and smashing the first doll that was nearest to you.

"How could you do this?" you cried, continuing to pound your sledgehammer on the dolls, damaging your wall and furniture in the process.

Jenevieve was last and you smirked at her.

"Goodbye, bitch." you said before smashing her into pieces, the sound of porcelain breaking was so satisfying in your ears.

"Do any of you have anything to add?" you looked at the other dolls coldly, the ones that didn't dare move from their designated place.

"Didn't think so." you added, fresh tears sliding down your cheeks as your eyes caught sight of Felix again.

"Shit!" you exclaimed, falling down to your knees and grabbing his face gently.

He was crying.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry I left you alone with them Lixie! I will make this right, I promise!" you cried as you held onto him.

You ran to your bathroom to grab a first aid kit, running back to Felix as fast as you could.

You tended to his wounds, tears falling down your face onto his cheeks and mixing with his own.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." you kept whispering as you took care of him, worry growing inside you when Felix became colder to the touch.

"I think this one needs stitches." you noticed a gash on his hand. "How did they do this? I'll never let anyone hurt you again, Felix."

That night, you brought Felix to your workshop, sewing up his wound and hoping that he would heal just like the bruise from his first day here was healing.

You didn't want to look at your dolls, opting to take Felix to the guest room, the only empty room in the house, getting him all comfy in your fluffiest blankets before you joined him under the covers.

"I love you a lot Lixie. Even though it's only been a week. You're my favorite doll ever." you kissed his cheek before cuddling him, holding him close to your body as you felt him warm up.

A smile spread on your face.

He's going to be okay.

Over the next few weeks, Felix's wounds have healed nicely.

You've asked to work from home so you could be with him all day.

It was quiet in your house, all of the other dolls were now even more afraid of you, after your little sledgehammer revenge.

You cuddled Felix a lot, holding him close whenever you could, playing with his soft hair and doting on him the entire time.

His face seemed to change throughout that time, from an expression of sadness and pain back to happiness and his rosy cheeks.

Once he was fully healed, you decided to bake a chocolate cake to celebrate his recovery.

Of course, he was in the kitchen with you, watching you work on the sweet treat.

You had more than one sweet treat in mind, you thought, giggling to yourself as you swiped some chocolate cream on your finger.

"Mm. So tasty." you smirked, looking directly at Felix.

"You wanna taste?" you took some more, coming closer to him and pressing your finger on his lips.

"Come on, I know you want it." you smirked. "I'll let you taste something even sweeter later."

He didn't react in the way you wanted him to, but his face was quickly becoming red.

Sighing, you leaned back and continued making the cake.

Once it was finished, you decided to let it cool down and take Felix to your living room.

"Look at that. I didn't even touch you." you giggled, the bulge in his pants evident.

He was finally all well and healed so you let yourself explore his body with your hands and lips.

It didn't take long for you to strip him, your eyes glued to his pretty cock, all hard for you.

"You make me wanna do things I usually don't." you sighed, gently stroking him.

"But you've been so good for me, so I gotta reward you." you laid Felix down, kneeling between his legs.

You kissed his thighs, lightly biting into his skin and noticing how he twitched at that.

You wanted to taste him and have him in your mouth which is something you were usually uncomfortable with but Felix made you want to do all those things you thought you never would.

"My good boy." you praise him, your lips pressing gentle kisses into his leaking cock.

Felix's body flushed as you kept kissing and licking at him, your hands sliding slowly on his soft skin, mapping him out.

You kissed his tip, tasting his pre-cum, sweet like cotton candy and you couldn't wait anymore as you wrapped your lips around him.

Your tongue tingled from the sweet taste as you swirled it around his head, a moan escaping your lips and making him leak even more.

Felix's fingers twitched on his side and your eyes widened a little as you took more of him in.

Hoping he would move again, you started bobbing your head faster, taking him in deeper, moaning around him and creating vibrations around his throbbing cock.

His fingers twitched a few more times, every time his tip hit the back of your throat it seemed to make him move.

Determined to snap him out of whatever trance he was in you gave it your all, drooling around his length as you sucked him harder, your hand squeezing his sensitive balls.

Taking you by surprise, Felix came, filling your mouth up with his cum and making you sputter as you didn't expect it.

You managed to swallow some, the rest making a mess out of his crotch.

You knew he was supposed to cum only after you pull on his hair so how did this happen?

Now, you had an even bigger inkling that Felix was alive.

A smirk spread on your lips as you stared at his reddened face.

"D'you want a taste, angel?" you giggled, your hand between your legs.

"Yeah, you do." you added, gathering some of your juices before bringing them up to his lips.

You pushed your finger in his mouth, making him taste you.

"I know you like that, my pretty prince."

You gave him a few kisses before cleaning him up.

"We can eat some cake tomorrow." you told him as you laid him down in your bed, the guest room now becoming your room.

As you cuddled up to Felix that night, you had no idea that he would finally wake up while you slept.

-

Felix's eyes widened as he fought for breath, his heart beating hard against his chest.

He gripped at the sheets, fisting them in pain as his whole body hurt.

You were sleeping peacefully on your side, facing him and for some reason he was terrified.

Felix saw what you did when you got angry so he didn't want to upset you in any way even though you treated him well, so well that he knew he loved you as much as you loved him.

But with confusion and fear running through his veins, he decided not to wake you up, instead he got up quietly in search of food and water.

He knew that if he took something from the fridge, you'd know he was awake so Felix made his way to your pantry, his feet padding on the floor quietly.

On his way there, his knee collided into a chair and he cursed quietly, his eyes widening as he looked back to the direction of your room.

Felix gulped, listening for some time and after deciding it was safe he entered the pantry.

He found some cookies and in his hunger he devoured most of them, accidentally leaving the wrapper and the crumbs behind.

After drinking some water, Felix returned to bed, deciding to let you sleep and maybe tell you that he's alive tomorrow.

-

Waking up the next day, you started the morning like any other, kissing Felix's sweet face.

But, something was different this morning.

His eyes were closed.

"Hm." you looked at him and he seemed to be breathing but it was so early in the morning that you thought you had dreamed it up.

Suddenly, your phone rang, scaring you out of your thoughts.

"Hi, Jackie!" it was your childhood best friend, the only person who tolerated your obsession with dolls.

She didn't mind it much and she loved you for who you were, the two of you grew up together, going through all the ups and downs with each other.

"Hey, y/n! I'm in town this weekend so I thought we could catch up." she said cheerfully.

"Of course, I'd love to!" you sat up, momentarily forgetting about Felix as you made your way to the kitchen with a smile on your face.

"Great, I can't wait to share all the tea I have." she said and you giggled before noticing something weird.

There was a glass you didn't touch on the counter, and your pantry door was open so you walked towards it as Jackie yapped in your ear.

As you turned the light on, you noticed half eaten cookies on the floor, the wrapper pulled apart seemingly with teeth.

"What? Do I have rats in my house?" you chuckled.

"I'm not a rat." a deep voice said behind you and you shrieked, turning around, your phone almost slipping out of your hand.

"Y/n? What's wrong?" Jackie asked.

"I'm gonna have to call you back." you said as you hung up, staring at Felix as he stood before you with his eyes wide, a timid look on his face, his cheeks rosy and lips pouty.

His hands were clasped together as he played with his fingers.

"F-Felix?" your eyes welled up with happy tears.

"It's me." he said, the depth of his voice shocking you once again, you didn't expect your sweet angel would have such deep vocal chords.

"Oh!" you laughed in delight, throwing your arms around him and hugging him tightly.

Felix gasped at your onslaught of love as you squeezed him so tight that you knocked his breath out of his lungs.

"I knew you'd come to me eventually, my angel." you gently took his face in your hands, your thumbs moving back and forth on his cheeks slowly.

"Y-you're not mad at me?" he asks cutely, blinking at you.

"No, no, not at all! Though, you left a mess." you shake your head and his face becomes redder.

"I'm sorry, I will clean it up." he says timidly and you giggle.

"Oh, you are so adorable!" cuteness aggression takes you over completely as you pinch his cheeks and kiss his plump lips repeatedly, making him giggle.

His stomach growled and he looked at you embarassingly, his face red and you chuckled.

"You need a proper meal." you said, deciding to make the classic eggs and bacon combo.

You took his hands and led him to the chair, sitting him down.

"Let me help you." Felix beamed at you.

"It's okay, Lixie. I like taking care of you."

"I know, but I want to do the same for you."

You melted instantly, kissing him again, it was hard to be apart from him.

The two of you made breakfast together, albeit clumsily as he was still confused about everything.

After eating, the two of you sat in the garden, you with your cup of coffee and Felix with his cup of hot cocoa, two slices of the chocolate cake you made last night served on the fine china.

"What made you wake up?" you asked.

"I- I'm not sure. I tried doing it before, I only managed to move my fingers or toes slightly, sometimes my eyes. It was honestly like I was imprisoned in my own body. I wanted to- to reciprocate, hold you properly and take care of you like you do to me." he said, looking away as he blushed once more.

"Ah, you are so sweet my prince. Just how I imagined. I knew you were alive, I was just hoping and waiting for you to break out of the hypnotized state."

"You think I was hypnotized?" Felix tilts his head at you.

"Do you remember anything before coming here?" you ask, reaching out to touch his hand gently.

"I remember this big cold room. And water. So much water. And there were others but I can't remember their faces. We were all there in the big room. There was a voice talking to us, I- I don't know what it said. But I think it was giving out commands." the more Felix talked about his past, the more worked up he was getting, his hands shaking, a thin sheen of sweat covering his forehead.

"Hey, hey it's okay. You don't have to tell me everything right away. It must be upsetting." you quickly stand up, holding his face and caressing him.

"I don't wanna go back there."

"You won't." you smile, sitting in his lap.

Felix freezes, his eyes wide and lips falling open, his face taking on the familiar rosy color.

"Y/n." he looks up at you cutely and you lean in, kissing him lovingly.

"You're no longer just my dolly. You're my boyfriend now." you giggle and he smiles the most beautiful bright smile you have ever seen.

"Oh! I am?"

"Mhm." you nod and lean in to kiss him again, your tongue licking at his bottom lip and he opens his mouth, letting you explore him properly now that he's awake, your hand tangled in his soft hair.

"I love you, Lixie." you kiss the tip of his nose.

"I love you y/n. Thank you for everything. For being so good to me and helping me heal when those dolls..." he shivers.

"Of course. Sorry if I went a little crazy. I know I can be insane sometimes. It's just when I saw you like that on the floor, I felt my heart break. I needed to smash them into pieces so they can never hurt you again."

"No, I'm glad you did that. If I could, I'd fight back."

"I know you would." you smile, shifting on his lap as you caress his face.

Scooting closer to him, you feel him press into you.

"I'm sorry." Felix whimpers, looking everywhere but at you. "I know you don't want to... you know."

"I do. Now that you're awake." you nod and his eyes widen.

"Oh?"

"Let's go inside." you giggle at his shocked expression.

"W-what do I do?" Felix looks at you unsurely as you sit on your bed. "Usually you're in charge..."

"You can take the lead, angel. Whatever you had in mind all this time, you can do now." you smile at him, taking his hands in yours to reassure him.

"I wanna worship you like you do to me." he blushes profusely and you chuckle.

"Of course." you say, the two of you starting with loving kisses, layers of clothing slowly coming off.

Felix lays you down gently, looking panicked for a moment, like he doesn't know what to start with, and as his eyes travel all over your body, the redness on his face spreads to his ears and neck.

Ultimately, he decides to do what you did, leaning down to kiss your neck first.

You throw your head back, giving him space as his plump lips gently travel on your skin.

You close your eyes as Felix's worships you, his lips so sweet on your hot skin, his hands caressing you gently as he slides them on your arms, then to your waist and tummy before slowly going up to cup your breasts.

"L-Lixie." you whimper as he plays with your nipples before leaning in to kiss them, his tongue darting out to swirl around the sensitive bud before his pretty lips wrap around it, sucking gently.

"Ah!" you moan, arching into him, arousal dripping from your core.

Felix whimpers when his finger touches your warmness, feeling how wet you got just for him.

He finds your clit, gently rubbing it in circles with his fingertips as he continues sucking on your breasts.

"Want you." you whine and he lifts up.

"C-can I taste you?" he asks, licking his lips and you nod eagerly.

Felix leaves kisses on your tummy all the way down to your core where he presses his lips against your clit.

"Mm, angel." you moan, making him moan too.

His tongue darts out as he starts licking at you and your eyes roll back.

He groans into your core, already addicted to your taste as he spreads you with his thumbs, pushing his tongue in eagerly, as deep as he can.

Your legs tremble a little, your hand ending up in his hair as you hold him down.

Felix keeps grunting into you, his deep voice sending vibrations through you as he laps you up, his button nose pressing perfectly against your clit.

Being sensitive, you can't hold it in too long as you explode, your juices spilling on his lips and chin.

"You taste so sweet." he looks up at you, licking at his lips.

"Come here, I need you." you make grabby hands at him and Felix giggles as he slides up, slotting himself perfectly between your thighs.

"Are you sure?" he asks and you nod.

"Please."

"Anything you want, darling." Felix whispers.

You feel his tip caress your folds and you whine, wrapping your legs around him as he sinks in, slowly opening you up just for him.

You embrace each other, your bodies moving together as Felix makes love to you until you're crying and trembling in his hold, your nails digging into his back as he finally releases his warm cum inside you, filling you up to the brim.

That night, Felix got to embrace you just how he always wanted.

The next few days pass by in perfect bliss.

You and Felix are attached at the hip, always together, always in each other's arms, lips constantly touching.

You took him out on so many dates and he loved being outside, seeing other people enjoying their day too, feeling the warm sunlight on his face, the gentle breeze caressing his hair.

You'd never been this happy before, never having someone who had seen you at your worst and still loved you for who you are.

Felix also loved helping you around the house, giving you massages and doing everything he can to make you feel comfortable.

He even told you of the dolls who were always nice to him so you'd take them out in the garden to hang out with you and Felix on a nice picnic date.

Even your friend Jackie was happy for you, first asking you to explain how the hell did he go from a doll to a human.

"So, basically, you were alive the whole time?" she scratched her head, as the three of you sat in your garden.

"I guess I was."

"So, do you remember how you were made? Like, are you human or?" Jackie asks, her eyes widened in wonder.

"I honestly have no idea. As I told y/n, I only remember that there was a room and that I was suspended in water."

"It's all so peculiar." you shake your head. "But it doesn't matter. What matters now is that Felix is alive and he is safe here." you kiss his cheek and he blushes instantly.

"If you're happy y/n, I'm happy too." Jackie smiles at you.

"Thanks, J." you giggle.

The rest of the afternoon Jackie fills you in with all the drama that happened in her life since you last saw each other, both you and Felix entertained after getting a scoop.

That night, Felix falls asleep quickly and you stay up just for some time, caressing his face and admiring his beauty.

"Good night, my sweet Lixie." you kiss his forehead before nuzzling into him and falling asleep.

Felix's night is filled with nightmares, after opening the topic of his past with Jackie today, memories started flooding in his mind.

People in white suits, their faces unrecognizable. A huge ceiling with big silver pipes. Water tanks with bodies floating inside them all in fetal position. Connected to a machine with a steady beeping sound echoing off of the walls.

The feeling of dread creeping up his spine.

Felix woke up with a loud gasp, covered in sweat, his heart almost leaping out of his chest.

"Lixie? What's wrong?" you sit up quickly as he jostled you awake.

"I- I had a nightmare." his lips tremble, tears sliding down his cheeks.

"It's okay, it was just a dream." you embrace him as he nuzzles into your neck.

You caress him until he calms down.

"It was about that place, wasn't it?"

He nods at your question and you sigh.

"How about we eat some ice cream?" you try to cheer him up and Felix nods quickly, a small smile already appearing on his face.

The two of you are in the kitchen when a loud banging on the door scares you both.

Both of you exchange a fearful look.

The banging starts again.

"Don't." Felix shakes his head, his hands trembling.

"It's okay." you reassure him, making your way to the door.

When you open them, you see five men in suits standing on your doorway, all their faces devoid of any emotion.

"Are you y/n l/n?" one of them speaks in a monotone voice.

"Yes, I am."

"So you've purchased Felix, the comforting doll?"

"I did. What is this about?" you ask confusedly.

"We are here to take him. There's been a malfunction and we need the dolls back at our company."

You scoff at them.

"No." you cross your arms.

"Miss, it's in your best interest to cooperate with us."

"Who the fuck do you think you are to know what's in my best interest?" you frown as two of the men exchange unimpressed looks.

You groan and in an attempt to shoo them away, you lift your leg up and kick one of the men right in his shin.

He doesn't even budge, doesn't make an expression or a sound that would indicate he was even hit.

"Get her out of the way." the man in the very back says and two of them grab your arms as you start screaming and kicking.

Three of the other men walk inside just as Felix runs up to the corridor, hearing your screams.

"Y/n!" he yells out, as the men grab him.

"Felix!" you kick around, tears sliding down your cheeks as you try to tear away from the men but to no avail.

"Let him go! He's alive! I love him!"

"Please don't take me away from her!"

Both of you scream but nobody listens to you.

One of the men takes a big needle out of his suitcase and before you can react he pushes it into Felix's neck, injecting him with some kind of liquid.

You scream as his body goes limp and they lift him up, walking out of your house.

"You'll get your money back, don't worry." the last man says and you scream at him, your tears flowing like a wild river.

"I don't want it! I want my Felix!" you cry, running after them but they've already pushed him into the backseat.

One of the men holds you back as they all pile in the car, leaving quickly as you fall down to your knees and cry.

Your heart hurts for breaking your promise of keeping Felix safe.

Your mind races with a thousand thoughts.

What are you going to do now?

Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @porangporangmeong @laylasbunbunny @laughatdanger @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @starlost-mochi-x @saintcosette @juskz @quokkacidal @chuuyaobsessed @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @lixies-favorite-cookie @thelostprincessofasgard @linocvp1d

[justarkive]

THE JEONS | smut drabble 3

Ass Or Tits? (…Both + 1) 🔞

summary: a collection of chaotic family drabbles. thats it.

contents: family!au, non.idol jungkook, girl!dad jk, fluff, angst, sensitive topics + smut sometimes!

• chapter contents: smut!! unhinged devotion, horny affection, unprotected sex, chaotic couple energy, soft!kook but filthy smut hehe, body worship lowk. oral f receiving, anal play (rimming), nose in ur puss, tongue in ass, hands on tits… TRIPLE KILL. groping, nipple play, cum on skin, he rubs it in lol, mild spanking, face-sitting adjacent behavior?, he’s obsessed with ur ass fr, possessive!jungkook, one braincell between u both, sex but make it cinematic and unserious, romantic filth, giggly sex, “i wish we could do missionary and doggy at the same time”— and he fuckin does it… not QUITE. but he does it in his own way.

• taglist: @jenniebyrubies @lovingkoalaface @iamstilljk @elinaki92 @rpwprpwprpwprw @mafersame @parkinglot-nights @reallygenerouskoala @mimi1097 @aznstoner @jungshaking @pinkpunkdynamite @angie-x3 (check pinned to be added)

masterlist, series masterlist

Jungkook loves every single part of your body—and he makes sure you know it.

Your face? He kisses it. Slowly, obsessively, like he’s tracing every freckle with his mouth.

Your neck? He marks it. Low and dangerous, where only he gets to see.

Your tits? He’s no better than Hana, truly—always latched on, always greedy.

Your stomach? He’ll cum all over it, no shame, just moaning about how pretty you look covered in him.

Your pussy? Nothing compares. It’s his weakness, his damn religion. He’d pray to it if he could.

Your thighs? He bites them. Sinks his teeth in like he’s starving.

Your legs? Rubbed absently while you sit in his lap, his hand lazily stroking like you’re a pet he can’t stop touching.

Toes? Don’t test him. He’d suck them clean if you asked.

But your ass?

Your ass is where he dies.

Outside the bedroom, he’s no better. He’s got a hand on it constantly—squeezing, slapping, gripping it through your clothes like it’s his stress ball.

Oversized shirts and his boxers are his favorite thing you wear. He swears they’re dangerous. The way the cotton barely hangs on, the way your ass fills out those boxers too well—it drives him insane. And when you lift your arms to stretch and the shirt rides up just enough to flash the curve of it?

Dead man.

You know how weak he is for it. You’ve known for a while. And maybe that’s why you do it now—why you walk past him with nothing but one of his T-shirts and your ass on full display, glancing back with a smirk as you feel his stare burn into you.

You don’t even make it to the bed.

He’s on you before you can blink, dragging your hips back toward the couch, pushing you forward until your hands are braced against the cushions.

“Fuck—” he mutters, voice thick with reverence and hunger, already shoving the shirt up over your back, palms greedily gripping and squeezing. “Look at that. You know what you’re doing to me?”

You giggle, wiggling back into him. “No idea.”

He groans, lining himself up behind you, nudging his cock between your cheeks before pushing into you with a hiss.

“Gonna cum all over it,” he babbles, thrusting deep, dizzy. “So fucking pretty—fuck—you’re gonna let me? Baby, yeah?”

You can only nod, moaning as he hits that sweet spot over and over, breath stuttering with every bounce of your ass against his hips.

And when you say, “Do it, Jungkook—cum all over it,” in that breathy little voice?

He’s a fucking goner.

He’s thrusting into you hard—deep and heavy, hips slapping against your ass with every stroke, greedy hands keeping you exactly where he wants you. You’re whining, moaning, every sound caught between his name and broken curses.

You’re expecting him to say something filthy. Something sexy. He always does.

But instead—

“I wish,” he pants, breath hot against your shoulder, “we could do doggy and missionary at the same time.”

You blink. “What?”

“I’m serious,” he groans, thrust stuttering a little. “Like—if I could see your face and your tits and your ass at the same time? I don’t think I’d last, baby. I’d probably cum in, like, five seconds tops.”

You freeze for a second. He sounds genuinely mournful about it. Like it’s his greatest sexual tragedy.

And then—god, the image—you burst out laughing. Full-body shaking kind of laughter, muffled into your arm, your stomach tightening and your pussy clenching hard around him as you try to breathe through it.

And Jungkook?

Jungkook chokes. “Fuck—!”

You feel it before you hear it—the way his hips stutter, the low moan he tries (and fails) to swallow. You clench again by accident, and he gasps, pulling out at the very last second and barely managing to finish on your ass.

Barely.

You look over your shoulder, still giggling like an idiot.

He’s standing there, blinking down at you, looking like he’s just been personally wronged. “There’s not even that much,” he pouts, rubbing his thumb through the mess he managed to make. “That wasn’t fair. You cheated.”

You’re breathless from laughing, face smushed into the couch cushion. “I cheated?”

“You clenched. On purpose.”

“I was laughing!”

“Exactly!” He grumbles, smearing his cum across your skin anyway, palm wide and lazy over the swell of your ass like it’s his personal playground.

You hum, still giggling. “Come on, Kook. Make me cum.”

His complaints die immediately.

Gone. Buried. Forgotten.

His face is between your cheeks in a second—mumbling something that sounds like “not even mad anymore,” while his tongue drags through your folds with reverence, hands keeping you spread and trembling.

And you just grin, melting into the cushions, eyes fluttering closed while he eats like it’s the only thing he’s ever wanted.

Because, well. It kinda is.

Your back arches against the sheets, hands tangled in his hair, tugging without direction—just needing something to hold onto.

“Oh—fuck, Jungkook—fuck,” you whimper, eyes fluttering, thighs twitching. “Thought—thought you were a tits guy.”

His eyes flash up at you. He doesn’t stop. Not even a little. Just lifts his head barely enough to say, with his mouth still shining and open, “Say it again.”

You bite your lip, gasping through a moan. “Thought you were a—tits guy…”

He groans. Visibly. Like the sound rocks through his whole chest.

“Baby,” he says, voice low, dark, wrecked. “I’m both.”

He kisses your clit once, slow and soft, then moves down again, mouthing messily at your folds.

“But this ass?” He grumbles into you, nosing lower just to prove his point. “This ass has been fucking killing me lately.”

Your breath stutters out of your lungs, a high whine in your throat. You squirm, reaching down blindly until you find his hands, and guide them up—pressing them against your chest, your voice all whimpery and slurred when you pout, “But you’re leaving them out…”

He melts.

Like, literally. His whole body goes soft and gooey for a second, his hands squeezing gently over your tits like he’s petting something delicate and breakable, his thumbs brushing lazy circles over your nipples.

“Cute,” he mutters, voice muffled as he dives back down between your thighs. “You’re so fucking cute, baby.”

You whimper.

He moans.

“You don’t believe me?” he murmurs, breath warm and wicked as it fans across your inner thigh. “Think I’m lying when I say I’m both?”

You can’t even form words—you just stare down at him, dazed and breathless, lips parted, body trembling.

“I’ll prove it.”

And then he does.

He kisses down your stomach, slow and sticky and worshipful, one hand staying high to cup your tits—thumb swiping over your nipple, squeezing gently like it grounds him. The other slides under your thigh, spreading you open wider than you thought possible.

And then—he’s everywhere.

Like literally.

Nose pressed flush to your clit, nuzzling against it like it’s his fucking home. Tongue dipping lower, deeper, licking into your ass without a hint of shame. And all the while—his hands never leave your chest. He’s palming you, groping you, kneading you like you’re everything he’s ever wanted and he’s been starved.

It’s obscene. It’s overwhelming. It’s all-consuming.

You cry out, loud and broken, as your hips jerk and your hands claw at his hair.

“Jungkook—fuck, fuck—” your voice is high and unraveling, thighs shaking around his head as your orgasm punches through you like lightning. “I—I can’t—oh my god—”

He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t come up for air. His nose still nudging your clit, tongue still buried inside your ass, hands full of tits like he’s living out the fantasy he once only joked about.

Missionary and doggy. At the same time.

Not quite, but close.

And you’re the only one laughing. A choked, dazed giggle slips from your throat even as you’re trembling, and the moment your body pulses again around his face—he groans.

Loud. Deep.

You cry out as you come, high and broken, hips twitching, hands fisting the sheets as your body pulses and clenches and pours out against his mouth.

And he—he licks it up like he’s starving.

Like it’s dessert. Like it’s devotion.

“Jungkook,” you gasp, half-laughing, half-crying, overstimulated and twitchy. “Jungkook—”

But he doesn’t stop.

You’re still coming down and he’s still between your legs, mouth still dragging along you like he could live there, like he wants to live there.

You have to physically pull at his shoulders, tugging him up, shaking your head as you whimper, “Stop, stop—baby, please—”

And then he’s crawling up your body, face wrecked, lips wet, chest heaving, and lifting you into his lap like he didn’t just destroy you. You’re a mess of limp limbs and overstimulated nerves, curling into him with a ragged breath and wide eyes.

You bury your face in his neck, trembling and wrecked, and mumble into his skin, “You’re insane.”

He grins—unrepentant and breathless. “And you’re cute.”

[phefics]

𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐮𝐦

𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩: fred weasley x reader x george weasley 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: fred and george dose the reader with a truth serum, which leads to her admitting a sexual fantasy including both brothers. 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: dubious consent (truth potion is used to make the reader admit her sexual fantasies which then play out), pseudo-inc3st (the twins don't do anything sexual to each other but are both involved in the same sexual scenario), gender-neutral!reader (reader has a vagina but no pronouns are used) 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.9k

Being friends with the Weasley twins was a constant rollercoaster.

There was never a dull moment, always an adventure to go on, a prank to pull, or witty banter bouncing between you and the brothers. Sometimes, you were helping Fred and George pull off their next big joke, but other times, you were their target. Sure, it could be frustrating, but it was also fun for you, and you always found ways to get them back.

You had been friends with the twins since your first year at Hogwarts, and that friendship had continued past Hogwarts and followed you into early-adulthood. You visited them at the flat over their shop in Diagon Alley often, where they showed you prototypes for new products and made you laugh until you cried with their antics.

It was a cold evening when you appeared in their fireplace, a bit dusty from the ashes, and were greeted with excited shouts from Fred and George before being pulled into a group hug.

As you looked up at their grinning faces, you couldn’t believe that there were people who still got the twins confused.

Fred had more freckles on his face, while George’s shoulders and arms had an abundance of them. When Fred laughed, he threw his head back, cackling loudly, while George usually gave more reserved chuckles, laughing down at his lap. And, well, George was fully missing an ear now, and Fred had a large scar on his temple from the Battle, where a piece of castle wall had crashed down on top of him.

“Finally,” Fred said, man-handling you onto the couch. “We’ve been waiting ages!”

“I’m only a few minutes late,” you replied, glancing at their clock, which wasn’t even working—it read 3:15, but it was well past 7:00 judging by the darkness outside.

“And are our few minutes not important to you?” George asked, sitting by your side. “We could have been using that time to come up with more brilliant inventions.”

“Or planned a clever scheme to spill a bucket of water on your head when you arrived,” Fred added.

You rolled your eyes. “I’m terribly sorry to have wasted your precious time,” you said, tone thick with sarcasm.

It was nice catching up with them. They updated you on each member of the Weasley family, such as Fleur’s pregnancy with her and Bill’s first child, or Percy’s upcoming wedding. You updated them on your own life as well, and it wasn’t long until they had pushed a glass of Firewhiskey into your hands.

“So, Y/N,” Fred said, leaning against the back of the couch. You immediately recognized the glint of mischief in his brown eyes, and braced yourself for whatever ridiculous question he was about to pose.

“Which of us do you think is the better looking twin?”

You opened your mouth, intending to say something like ‘neither of you’ or ‘you’re identical—what kind of stupid question is that?’ but the sentence that spilled from your lips instead was, “Well, you look pretty much the same, so I’d say you guys are equally attractive. I think the scar makes you look pretty hot, Fred, but George can really pull off the whole missing ear thing.”

You clapped a hand over your mouth, face burning.

The twins both erupted into giggles.

“Oh, you’re too kind!” George said. “I’m glad you find my lack of an ear sexy.”

“And my scar is flattered,” Fred added.

“What did you two do?” you asked, scowling.

“We might have stumbled upon a vial of Veritaserum…” George said, trying and failing to look guilty. “And put it in your drink. Just a drop, though! It’ll wear off soon.”

You wanted to insult them, yell at them, call them every insult and curse under the sun, but no words would leave your tongue. It was like the truth serum wouldn’t even let you pretend to be pissed off. Sure, this was an invasion of your privacy and totally sketchy, but you had known Fred and George for so long, you were sort of used to their antics by now. You should have been way angrier than you were, but it was just so typical of them, you couldn’t muster much more than annoyance.

What you did manage to say was, “Why?”

Both twins shrugged.

“For fun,” Fred said.

“And because we were curious about something,” George replied.

“About what?”

“About which of us you like better.”

You blinked at them. “Are you serious? We aren’t eleven anymore. Is it really a contest between you two to be the better twin?”

“Not really, no,” Fred said. “Even though we all know that it's me.”

George reached over you to playfully shove his brother’s shoulder. “It’s not about proving anything. We’re just curious. So, Y/N, who do you like better: me or Freddie?”

“I like you equally,” you said. “You are both hilarious, intelligent, and my best friends. I find it easier to connect with George on serious things, but Fred always knows the right thing to say when I need cheering up.”

Your face was flushing deeper, embarrassed at the cheesy, sentimental words that left your mouth. Fred and George had grown up in an incredibly loving, affectionate family and had never shied away from making their love known, but it was awkward to voice your own feelings out loud like that.

Both twins seemed rather touched, though

“Wow, I was expecting you to have to pick,” Fred said. “But that’s oddly sweet.”

You groaned. “Okay, okay, yes, I love you both, can we knock this off now?”

“No, we have more questions!”

“Such as…?”

“Would you fuck either of us?” George asked.

Fred was normally the more vulgar of the two, and the question coming from George’s lips instead took you even more off guard.

“Yes,” you said, unable to stop yourself. “Either of you. Or both of you.”

“At the same time?”

“Yes.”

Fred and George also showed their emotions differently. Fred was better at keeping his feelings to himself, but when he was flustered, his ears would turn pink. His ears had flushed slightly, and his eyes were wide as he licked his lips, clearly intrigued by your answer. George was also flushed, but the color went to his face, and he brushed his thumbs repeatedly over his thighs, a nervous tick he’d always had.

“Have you thought about this a lot?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Tell us how you’d want it.”

You couldn’t help but answer. “I would let you strip off my clothes, groping me. One of you is behind me, kissing my neck as you take off my shirt. The other is at my feet, pulling my pants down. Neither of you shut up the whole time, talking about me like I’m not even there. Commenting to each other about how pretty I am, how wet my pussy is for you. Whoever is between my legs starts to go down on me, while the other holds my body still so I can’t move away from how good it feels. I cum on your tongue, and the other wants a turn, too…”

The twins were both clearly aroused as you spoke.

“Do you want that? Now?” Fred asked, his voice low.

“Yes,” you breathed. 

They waste no time switching their positions on the couch, George pulling your back against his chest while Fred positions himself between your legs, his hands eagerly moving to the waistband of your pants, tugging at it.

George took his time, hands sliding up your shirt, touching softly as he felt you up, his face nuzzling into the crook of your neck, lips teasing the skin there.

You couldn’t help but whine under their touches, loving every moment of it. You had truly dreamt of this for years, always too afraid to ruin the friendship. Sure, you had kissed both twins for dares back at school, but this was real and intimate and beautiful.

Fred made quick work of getting your bottom half undressed, and he kissed his ways along your thighs, cupping your ass with one hand, squeezing hard.

“So fuckin’ hot,” George breathed.

“I know, right?” Fred replied. “So good for us, too. Are we making your fantasy come true, love?”

You nodded, whimpering softly.

“So needy, too. You want to cum for us?”

You nodded again. “Yes, yes please.”

George chuckled, nipping at your ear as Fred’s mouth finally reached your pussy, his tongue licking tentatively at you before he found your clit, which he immediately focused his attention on.

Your noises only grew louder, more desperate.

“Already? You’re not very good at this whole build-up thing, Freddie,” George said.

“I think we’ve waited long enough for this,” Fred replied before returning to his task.

“You don’t want to be patient, do you, darling?” George asked, hugging you tightly from behind. “You’ve wanted this for so long, you just want to be good for us, take everything we’ve got?”

“Fuck yes,” you moan.

Fred was clearly just as eager as you are, apparently trying to make you cum as quickly as possible, like he was placing bets in his head.

“You like that, hm? Is he good at it? Making you feel good?” George said.

“Feels so fucking good.”

“Good. You gonna cum for him?”

“Yes, yes, I’m—”

It didn’t take long at all. Fred’s tongue was good for more than just witty comments, and your legs trembled as he sat up, lips shining with your slick and a smug smile on his face.

“I think this is the part where we switch jobs, Georgie.”

Your pussy was already so wet, so sensitive, you knew that George would be able to make you cum fast, too. It was almost embarrassing how easy you were, how turned on they made you.

The twins switched positions, and Fred wrapped his arms around your middle sweetly, dragging his fingers over your waist and making goosebumps spread over your abdomen, squirming in his grasp.

“Don’t try and get away, sweet thing,” Fred said. “Otherwise George won’t be able to have his turn. Just be good for us, okay? Be a good little slut.”

You whined, face hot as George’s lips found your inner thighs and kissed the skin there, slowly, teasingly. He was the more patient, more methodical of the two. He wasn’t going to go straight for your clit, he was going to keep you wanting. Maybe until you begged.

Fred began sucking a hickey into your throat, leaving you a moaning mess as the twins both worshiped your body like it was something sacred.

Finally, George’s tongue found your pussy, teasing your hole and folds before even bothering to touch your clit.

“Should he put his fingers inside you?” Fred asked.

You nodded fervently, thrusting your hips.

George complied immediately, sliding one finger inside which was quickly followed by a second, pumping slowly before curling into that special spot, which he had found surprisingly easily.

Your second orgasm came just as quickly as the first, your hands balling into fists and your toes curling. Once your body was able to relax, you looked up through teary eyes to see George licking your taste off of his fingers.

“Was that everything you dreamed?” Fred asked.

You opened your mouth, expecting the answer to roll off your tongue, but it didn’t. You realized that the potion had worn off, and smirked.

“It could have been better,” you said, thrilled with your ability to lie again.

Obviously, Fred and George had to remedy that immediately.

[hyckstarz]

benefits between friends | l.hc

pairing. fwb!haechan x afab reader

word count. 4.2k

genre. smut · friends with benefits · fluff-ish

synopsis. there are a number of benefits to being friends — until you step past the greyed lines of platonic and rip the pages of the dusty rulebook called 'friends with benefits'. it was meant to be simple. after all, it was just adding sex to the equation of their already established friendship... right?

warnings. 18+ minors do not interact, use of pet name (baby, princess), unprotected sex, slight dom!haechan, light choking, marking (hickeys), mention of blood, mentions of violence (fighting), Yuta as your 'overly' protective brother, fluff? ending

A/N: finally posted my first Haechan fic! Just know... Haechan's recent 127's seasons greetings inspired this fic; that photoshoot had me biting my fist. no sanity left.

Y/N grabbed his shirt, pulling him down to lock her lips aggressively with his, tugging at the locks of his hair which elicited a muffled groan. The flowery scent of his cologne clashed with the lingering traces of his cigarette, creating an intoxicating concoction of innocent sweetness which mingled with something raw and rough.

As she kicked the door shut behind her, Haechan gently pushed her against it. His knee came up to press between her legs while his hand slid up her thigh. The coolness of his silver rings caused her to shiver, humming at the touch.

She hated how attractive her friend was; the subtle 'imperfections' of his skin — freckles and scars — were mesmerisingly perfect. And the veins tracing his hands and neck, along with the casualness of his outfit, had only added to her growing frustration.

His tongue trailed the seam of her glossy lips, nose brushing against hers whilst their breaths mingled together.

"You're a fucking asshole, you know that?" She hissed.

He smirked against her lips, pulling back enough to snicker at her furrowed brows, "An asshole you can't get enough of," he retorted, tilting her chin up, his breath hot against her skin, "But you like that I'm an asshole, don't you?"

Lifting up the hem of her skirt teasingly, his gaze flicked to her pussy, grinning at the wetness which seeped through the fabric of her underwear, "Very much, it seems." His eyes darkened while his other hand cupped her jaw. The pads of his fingertips left imprints across her skin as he pulled her in for another kiss — teeth grazing against the pillowy lips.

"Shut up," Y/N snapped, her palm pressing flat against his chest as she pushed him down onto the couch, "you made the rule, yet you were the first to break it."

His eyes harboured a glint of mischief as though to suggest he had done it purposefully, yet his words feigned innocence, "Yeah, and what rule did I break exactly?"

She rolled her eyes, but God did she love the sight of him sprawled out along the couch. His hair was a tangled, disheveled mess, lips swollen and pink from the make out, and bulge hard as it pressed uncomfortably against his sweatpants, the friction almost unbearable. But his half-lidded, almost sleepy-looking eyes were oh so attractive.

Haechan sat up as she climbed on top of him, earning a scowl from her. She used her index finger to push his forehead down, laying him flat against the cushions, "'Don't get in the way of us hooking up with someone else', and you did just that, Hyuck."

He recalled the other night at one of Jaehyun’s parties. With a cup of what he hoped was alcohol in hand, he watched as Jisung’s hands hesitantly settled on her waist, his thumb tracing small circles against her skin. She drew him in closer, whispering sweet nothings in his ear, and led him towards the stairs that ascended to the rooms, a shy Jisung trailing behind her.

A wave of either anger or jealousy washed over Haechan, he wasn't sure which, but he hoped it wasn't the latter. He crinkled the cheap plastic cup in his hands, chucking it away and pushing through the intoxicated crowd. Jisung's excitement was short-lived when haechan wrapped a strong arm around his shoulders, and whisked him away to God knows where.

She kissed down his neck to his collarbone, whilst Haechan's hands settled on her hips, tightening his grasp, "You really were serious about getting in bed with Jisung, huh? Baby, he wouldn't know how to satisfy you if it came with step-by-step instructions."

She scoffed, her finger trailing down his chest teasingly, loving the way his breath hitched at the touch, before stopping at the waistband of his pants, "But he's cute."

He raised a questioning brow as his fingers pressed against her skin. He bucked his hips needily against her as if to distract himself from the bubbling feeling that threatened to overwhelm him at the mere mention of Jisung, "Baby, I'm cuter, and I can make you feel good. I'd say I'm worth more of your time."

She laughs, which sounds closer to a sneer as she strips herself free of her top, "Just admit you're jealous and don't like to share."

Haechan's eyes trailed her body as she undressed, and he followed. He loved how she never held back with him, always playing along with his annoying antics, "Baby, I don't get jealous," he sat up, pulling her hands to wrap around his waist, her breasts pushed up against his chest, "but I do love the idea of you belonging to me."

He nipped at her neck, hand palming her breast, whilst his free hand moved to her ass, squeezing it lightly. He loved the sounds she made, the way her body reacted to him, and how soft her skin was as he trailed his fingers up her spine, "Now, are you going to fuck me, or should I do it myself?"

She sighed, almost reluctantly obliging, but roughly rolls her hips against him as payback for getting in between Jisung and her, earning a groan from him. An innocent smile was plastered on her face as she tightened her hold around him, a teasing glint in her eye, "There, happy?"

Her rough movements had sent him spiralling in a fit of pleasure, he rested his forehead against hers, letting out a breathy chuckle. He fucking loved it whenever she'd put him in his place.

"Happy? No, I'm not fucking happy" He muttered, kissing her cheek before pulling slightly away from her with that stupid grin of his, "But I will be once I fill you up with my cum."

His eyes never left hers, it was almost like he were challenging her, getting her to push back or, even better, take the lead. His voice was raspy and slow as if to enunciate every word, "Now, ride me like the good friend you are."

The way he spoke to her, paired with his half-lidded, teasing gaze... That alone could make her lose control, and she loved it just as much as she despised it. She moved against him, a wave of pleasure consuming her, yet she still managed to harbour a sarcastic tone, "Fuck- you sure are charming."

Haechan chuckled in response, head nestling into the crook of her neck, "I know I am," he jokes, biting down against her skin, "and you love it."

Haechan's grip on her tightened, knuckles white, as she began to rock against him, loving how she fit perfectly around his cock. Every time they had sex, Haechan would subtly take the chance to observe her features. The soft curve of her lips when she smiled at the pleasure, the layers of her long, dark hair which gently framed her face, but also the parts of her no one else got to see. The airbrushed moles which peppered down her figure, the cute tan lines painting her skin, and the beads of sweat that formed on the canvas which was her body.

His fingers lightly ghosted over her frame, searching for her hands. When they finally touched, he gently wrapped his hand around her finger. It was the right amount of intimate that wasn't suspicious, but enough to satisfy the strange feeling that washed over him.

Haechan continued to watch her intently, brows knit together when her voice faltered, getting caught in her throat. He brushed the strands of hair from her face, "Let me hear you, baby."

Her breathing grew uneven, body quaking as her forehead pressed against his. She cried out in husky, desperate pleas, "Fuck, Hyuck, I'm close."

The familiar nickname echoed in his mind, igniting a surge of pleasure and a desire to hear it again. "Say it again... My name," He demanded breathlessly, almost like that of a whine.

His thrusts became more desperate and increasingly impatient. His slender hands cupped her neck, thumb brushing against her soft jaw, "Say it, Y/N," he begged, his eyes pleading with her, every inch of him anticipating the sound of her voice.

Y/N's gaze locked with Haechan's, her dark eyes boring into his. The intensity of this moment, of their bodies, sent her over the edge. She gasped, "Hyuck... please, I need..."

His name on her lips sent a jolt of adrenaline through him, his hips thrusted with more fervour, his own restraint slipping as he responded, "You're so good for me, baby."

She could feel every ridge, vein and throb of his dick, making it hard for her to contain herself as he thrusted into her roughly. Y/N arched her back, her voice breaking, words a jumbled and incoherent mess.

Haechan's own release followed, their bodies shuddering and trembling. As she rolled off him, they lay there, panting, a small chuckle leaving both their lips before she moved to gather her clothes.

"So, do you wanna continue watching our show? I'm dying to know what happened to Elena."

He sends her a soft smile in the middle of throwing his clothes back on quickly, patting the space next to him with an arm outstretched, "I'm down."

She returns his smile, giggling as she hugs his side, his arm wrapping around her smaller frame, setting the episode to play on the TV. Then, with a playful mumble, she says, "You’re still an asshole, but I’m glad we’re friends.”

He chuckles under his breath, placing an uncharacteristic kiss to the crown of her head, breathing in the familiar scent of her shampoo as he let out a sigh of content, "Me too."

The music boomed uncomfortably loud throughout the house, the bass thumping against the walls as sweaty bodies meshed together — intoxicated and insufferable. Haechan hated house parties, even more so when Y/N was there. It was where she'd hook up with men. It's where she first hooked up with him.

He scoffed, taking a sip of the cheap, lukewarm alcohol as his eyes stayed trained on her, watching her dance with some loser, Jungwoo. Johnny slid onto the couch next to Haechan, resting his arm along the back as he followed his friend's gaze. He smirked, clasping his shoulder and leaning in to shout over the music, "You gonna do anything about it?"

Haechan sends him a sideways glance, raising an eyebrow, but he doesn't respond, which only raises Johnny's curiosity further.

He watches as Jungwoo's hands slithered down her body, his fingers slipping under her shirt to press the calloused pads against her supple skin. Haechan tightens his grip on the plastic cup, the crinkle sharp as it cut through the music. Johnny always found it amusing how the usually collected man would burn daggers at anyone who would get close to her, his thoughts loud as he sent curses to the shy dork who was suddenly all over his friend.

Then, Jisung saunters in, tipsy as he plops down next to Haechan, leaning in heavily onto his side. His elbow was practically digging into his friend's waist as he mumbled, "Can't believe you took her from me," he hiccuped, cheeks flushed and lips pouty.

Haechan shoved Jisung away with an annoyed groan, "Dude, space. And she was already mine."

Jisung squinted his hazy eyes at Haechan, looking at him in disbelief, "Y/N is not yours. You guys are just friends with benefits. You're basically using her for sex!"

Unfortunately for Haechan, Yuta had been leaning against the back of the couch, listening in. His fists had clenched instantly as he let out a loud scoff that startled Haechan, causing all the hairs to stand up on the back of his neck, "What the fuck do you mean, using her?"

Haechan swallowed thickly. He could have sworn he felt his life flash before his eyes, his Adam's apple bobbing in fear. If there was one person you didn't want to piss off, it was Nakamoto Yuta. He may as well have been the second coach for the football team, a star player who dominated the field. He was also someone who didn't hesitate to mess people up, as he wasn't one to give a shit about his reputation, especially when people messed with his sister — Y/N.

Johnny was the first to step in, being close with Yuta, "Jisung is drunk, man. He's spewing shit."

But Yuta doesn't budge and doesn't take his glaring eyes off the side of Haechan's face, "I wasn't asking you."

Haechan chuckles lightly under his breath. He couldn't believe his luck. Couldn't believe Yuta had to be right here, just as he was about to get in-between Jungwoo and Y/N, as soon as Jisung waltzed in. That bitter laugh gets on Yuta's nerves and he reaches over the couch to grab the younger man by his collar, yanking him up, "What's so funny? You think this is a joke? Think my sister is one of your slutty, easy bitches you can play around with?"

Haechan raises his hands in surrender, red solo cup in hand, "Just wondered why it was only a problem with me and not with Jungwoo over there feeling her up."

Yuta's eyebrow twitched, his veins pulsing as he gripped his collar tight. But he responds with a sharp punch to Haechan's cheek, his ring cutting through his skin. Followed by another. And another. Loud gasps and whispers surrounded them. Johnny had jumped in, but Yuta was fuming, his face was a burning red as he glared down at Haechan who only laughed. He really couldn't believe his luck as he gazed up at Yuta from the floor.

Johnny's desperate yells were drowned out by the music, trying to pull Yuta off of Haechan as he was sprawled out along the floor, bruises blossoming across his skin. But to no avail, not when rage burned in the untamed eyes of the protective brother with anger issues.

Haechan didn't know how long it went on for. It wasn't until Taeyong stepped in, his stern eyes enough to have Yuta backing down like a guilty puppy.

He dragged himself to his feet, pushing past the familiar faces that reached out to him in concern, stumbling towards the stairs. He gripped onto the railing as the world spun nauseatingly around him. His jaw throbbed from the numerous punches, and his cheek burned from the cut of Yuta's ring, tasting blood on his tongue each time he swallowed.

He barely made it upstairs, kicking the first door open and stumbling inside, thanking the Heavens that it was the bathroom. He slammed the door shut behind him and fumbled with the lock until the click echoed in the small, white room. And, when he finally turned, he got a look at the mess of his face, each red mark and cut made up the canvas of Yuta's work. He let out a bitter laugh, the cool marble of the sink biting into his palms as he twisted the tap with shaky fingers and started to wash out the blood that stained his skin.

His attempts at cleaning himself was... pitiful, "Fuck," he mumbled. Soaked tissues scattered on the floor around him, sticking to surfaces, water pooling everywhere, yet he was still as much of a mess as when he first walked in here.

"Hyuck," Y/N's soft voice called out from behind the door. He tensed, glancing back at himself in the mirror. He didn't want her to see him like this. Vulnerable, weak and small. But he couldn't do anything on his own, not when his entire body throbbed and ached.

Hesitantly, he unlocked the door but stayed by the sink, embarrassment eating away at him. He could hear her shocked gasp and see the reflection of her wide eyes as she took in his appearance. She felt guilty, her hands fidgeting at her sides, unsure of where to even start.

She stood beside him, dabbed a wet tissue at the bloody cut on his cheek with a shaky hand, holding back tears with every wince of his. The lack of a first-aid kit only made matters worse for her, having to use tissues which barely helped in cleaning him up.

"Jesus, Hyuck," she breathed, soaking another tissue in water before going back in.

He leaned back against the marble, watching her carefully, like he wasn't sure if she was about to scold him or cry. Maybe a bit of both.

"You look like shit," she said, voice cracking on the last word, trying to lighten the mood.

He laughed. It was a short, breathless sound that made him tense up as pain cut through his body, immediately cutting it short, "Thanks, Y/N. You really know how to make a guy feel good," he grabbed her wrist, trying to clean himself up instead when her voice cut through his attempts.

"You're such an idiot," she whispered, pulling her hand away from his grasp, "Be a good boy and let me help."

He didn't move when she stepped between his legs and cupped his bruised cheek so softly it almost had him punching the air, finding her adorable like this. Her touch was light, fingertips tracing along the cut with a gentle care he never expected. His breath hitched, and for a second, he forgot about the pain.

He watched the way her brows knit together in focus, the way her bottom lip trembled slightly from worry, and the way her hands shook as she dabbed at his skin with a damp tissue.

"You're such a mum," he teases, holding onto her hips gently as his thumbs grazed the skin under her shirt.

She paused, sending him a deadpanned expression, "Don't call me that or I'll knock you out."

He laughed, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck as he breathed her in, sighing contently. She gently threaded her fingers through his hair without complaint or question.

Haechan couldn't ignore the way she made him feel in this moment, or ever. He had always subtly wanted more; hand wrapping around her finger during their coupling, eyes tracing down the lines and patterns of her body, memorising every dip, curve and blemish. And now, as tears pricked her eyes, he couldn't help himself, blurting out words like a fool which was so unlike him, "I like you."

It was simple, but so idiotic. He made those rules. Those stupid rules that did nothing to stop his heart from locking its rosy gaze on her, squeezing out a sickening beat at every laugh or feel of her touch. Simple words such as 'I like you' couldn't express how he truly felt, even as the anxious flutter of butterflies, and whatever else used to lay dormant in the pits of his stomach, flapped their fragile wings erratically.

"What?" her voice was quiet, too quiet as the drowned out sound of club music filtered in through the cracks of the door.

Haechan pulled back, feeling his cheeks flush. He was usually the one to make the first move. The one who first suggested being friends with benefits. And, the one who acted like nothing was ever a big deal. But now, with her wide, soft eyes peering back at him, paired with the gentle touch of her cold fingertips, he felt the words form a lump in his throat, "I... I said I like you."

The hoarseness of his voice and the pitiful state of him had her giggling softly as she continued to clean him up, "I like you too, Haechan."

He grabbed at her wrist again, stopping her movements, "Not as a friend. Well, I do like you as a friend, of course. But as in-"

Whenever he was flustered, he was always a stuttering mess, waffling about anything to calm his raging heart, but her lips pressing to his had him pause immediately in surprise, "I know, dumbass. I like you too," she whispered softly against his lips, pulling back, "and you think I didn't notice you having feelings for me? I knew from the moment you suggested being friends with benefits. Like an idiot."

She smacked his head lightly, "If only you just said you liked me back then, it wouldn't have been so messy. And Yuta would have actually liked you too."

Haechan pouted, leaning against the counter and averting his gaze as he mumbled, "I guess I am an idiot."

"A big one."

He glanced sideways at her briefly, a smile tugging at his lips, "So... if you like me and I like you too, does that mean we've levelled up from friends to a couple?"

Y/N pondered, her hum echoing in the small confines of the bathroom as she cleaned up the last of his blood, "Hmm, I don't know, are we?"

Haechan scowled, mumbling small complaints before he pressed her to the cool, tiled wall, peering down at her with an intense glint in his eyes, "Don't tease me now, Y/N. I need to know."

She chuckled, but only shrugged, which had Haechan tonguing the inside of his cheek in frustration, his words making her thighs quiver, "I've always been somewhat gentle with you, but I won't be if you're a brat," his thumb grazed over her bottom lip, pressing it down and tilting her chin up, "Do I need to fuck the answer out of you? Because, believe me, I'd be able to get it out of you with your thoughts all mushy from the feel of my dick."

Y/N swallowed hard. Haechan always talked dirty. His smart little Gemini mouth constantly working overtime in making her knees weak. But this was different, especially paired with the cuts and red marks along his skin, "Ask me properly and maybe you'll find out."

Haechan let out a low chuckle under his breath, peering at her through his lashes cockily. God she would tug at the roots of her hair at how insane he was making her right now, "I always thought our first proper time would be sweet and slow but... Fuck being gentle."

His plush lips crashed into hers, dragging and nipping at them as if she were his lifeline. His fingers tangled in her long hair, tugging at the strands to tilt her head to the side, letting her parted lips lock with his with practiced ease. He tasted like alcohol, paired with his warm breath which caused her to feel flushed and drunk on him.

She gasped into the kiss, giving him the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth. She was grabbing at anything she could, from his shirt, to his hair, and even his arm. The warmth of Haechan's body contrasted against the coolness of the bathroom tile.

It was so messy. So needy. So hot. She felt like she had stumbled into cloud nine, especially as his lips dragged down her neck to nip at her collarbone, marking her, "Maybe this will let your brother know that you are mine."

She chuckled, "I didn't say I was," Haechan pulled back to glare at her and, if that wasn't the sexiest thing — the graze on his cheekbone and the red marks that peppered his golden skin made her feel breathless and in a daze, "...yet."

Haechan tried hard to stifle his smile, but he ended up letting out a soft laugh, shaking his head as he pulled her in by her waist, smiling down at her, "You're so cute, you know that?"

Y/N stares at him suspiciously, "I know... but what did I do that was so cute?"

He only roles his eyes, "Everything, especially the way you look at me," he presses a soft kiss to her cheek, letting is lips linger, "So, are you going to give me an answer now?"

She scowls at him, squishing his cheeks between the palms of her hands whilst avoiding his injuries, pulling him back to meet her gaze, "What happened to not being gentle anymore?"

Haechan pouted, rubbing circles along the skin of her waist with his thumbs, "I lied. I want our first proper time to be special and only when we make it clear we aren't just friends anymore. I mean... I want to show you off the moment we leave this cramped bathroom."

She giggles, pulling him in for a hug. He waits patiently, savouring the feeling of her warm body molded into his, "You still have to ask me properly, Haechan."

He whines, about to retort before cupping her cheeks and meeting her gaze, "Okay, Princess, as you wish," He clears his throat, a smug smile lacing his lips, "Will you let me finally be your boyfriend, Y/N?"

Y/N pretends to ponder, letting her hum echo in the bathroom and Haechan pokes her side which causes her to yelp and playfully smack at his shoulder, "Yes, yes! Fine, jeez. You can be my boyfriend. But don't let it get to your head."

Haechan picks her up by her waist and spins her lightly before wincing and putting her back down, laughing with her when he remembered Yuta had almost knocked his lights out, "So... Now that we're dating. Am I still an asshole?"

Y/N thought for a moment before shrugging, "A little. A cute one, though."

Haechan rolls his eyes, unlocking the bathroom door and lacing his fingers with hers, "I suppose one thing has changed though."

Her ears perk up as she meets his gaze, "What has?"

"I'm your cute asshole now."

© hyckstarz

[lqveharrington]

Every Year in Greece? | F.W.

summary: after ten years of marriage, you and Fred find yourselves celebrating in Greece with your family.

pairing: dad!fred weasley x mom!reader

includes: PURE FLUFF, reader is implied pregnant at the end

a/n: I’m about to be free of all stress after March 8, so the posting should be consistent very soon!!

Love is absolutely endless. No matter how, where, or who falls in love, it was always bound to come. In your life, it came the second you met Fred Weasley in your first year at Hogwarts. Maybe it didn’t occur to you straight away that he was the true love of your life, but you knew as time went on.

Now it was your ten-year wedding anniversary.

This year, your family had collectively agreed to celebrate in Greece, with the added surprise of Molly and Arthur joining to watch over your two troublemakers—children you and Fred loved with every piece of your hearts.

Sunlight filtered through the white curtains, casting a golden glow over the room where you and Fred lay tangled beneath soft sheets. His head rested in the crook of your neck, warm breath fanning against your skin as you lazily traced patterns into the freckled expanse of his back. The world outside was quiet save for the distant sound of waves lapping against the shore. Peace. Pure, perfect peace.

Until it wasn’t.

With a burst of energy only Weasley twins possessed, the door slammed open. The newly appointed Weasley twins—Jane and Henry—launched themselves onto the bed with gleeful squeals, sending Fred jolting upright, hair tousled and eyes bleary.

“M’sorry, lovey,” you mumbled and pressed a kiss to his head as he groaned in mock agony. You reached for the two lively children, pulling them into your arms. “Now how did you two escape Nana and Papa?”

“They were busy making breakfast for us!” Jane answered with a bright grin, laughter filling the air when Fred began to tickle her. She squealed, squirming in your arms. “Daddy!”

You chuckled softly before turning your head toward Henry, his laughter quieter than his twin’s. You nudged your chin to his forehead, earning his attention. “Are you excited to head to the beach, Henry?”

He shifted in your arms and nodded, his browns eyes—the same one’s his father had—sparkling with excitement. “Yes! I’m gonna build the biggest sandcastle in the world! It’s gonna be bigger than the Burrow!”

Fred’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, Jane now in his arms and messing with his hair. “Bigger than the Burrow? Mate, we better get to the beach now before other people begin taking all the sand!”

Henry’s mouth fell agape, voice coming out as loud as his father’s. “People do that?”

You suppressed your laughter as Fred dramatically described his story about his vacation to Egypt when he was fifteen—slipping out of bed to get for the day for Godric knows how long the twins will encourage their father to keep talking.

By the time you exited the bathroom with the white sundress Fred bought you just for Greece and hair pulled back—still styled perfectly like usual—Henry was sitting crisscrossed on your side of the bed still listening to his father while Jane finished another braid in his hair. As always, Fred remained unbothered by anything his children did to his hair, especially the braids his daughter adorned him with.

“—And your uncle Georgie and I could’ve trapped your uncle Perce in the tomb when…” Fred trailed off as he saw you step out of the bathroom and began to pack for the beach. His eyes scanned your figure before meeting your eyes, your warmed cheeks saying unspoken things. “Bloody hell, your mum’s gorgeous.”

At the mention of their mother’s return, the twins whipped their heads in your direction, clambering over the bed to race into your loving arms one more. You stumbled at the sudden impact and held them close, your smile absolutely blinding to Fred.

“You two need to get out of your jammies and into beach clothes,” you squeezed their shoulders and ushered them out of the room swiftly, tilting your head out the doorway to ensure they made it to their room before turning back to Fred. “You need to change too, Weasley.”

Snapping out of his quiet daze, he finally stood and stretched like a lion, freckles that were scattered across his body practically glittering from the rays of sunlight. He met your stern look—the one where you narrowed your eyes at him with your hands on your hips—and placed a large hand on your waist, pulling you close to him.

Keeping your facade up, you bite your tongue in hopes of not letting a smile slip through. However, nothing ever gets past Fred Weasley’s careful eye.

“I suppose,” he murmured and tilted his head down to meet your eyes properly, squeezing your hip softly.

You subconsciously wet your lips and flit your eyes down to his inviting lips—instantly lifting them back to meet his teasing eyes. “Better hurry if you want to help Henry make his sandcastle.”

Fred hummed and thumbed your waist, “Sure.”

Finally giving in, you wrapped your arms around his neck as a loving smile adorned your face, pushing on your toes to be closer. You play with the hair in your reach, twirling the red hair in between your fingers. “I love you, Fred Weasley. I hope you know that.”

He grinned and closed the distance between the two of you, pressing a tender kiss to your lips and pulling you impossibly closer to him. Fred deepened the kiss ever so slightly before pulling away, leaving you in a daze and wanting more.

“I love you a helluva lot more,” he looked between your eyes and slowly release you from his hold. “I’ll see you in a minute, gorgeous.”

“You make me swoon,” you tease lightly as you moved around him to exit the room, jokingly glaring at him when he smacked your ass on the way out.

The morning sun continued to stream through the windows as the Weasley family gathered around the kitchen table, the air filled with the tantalizing aroma of Molly’s famous pancakes and Arthur’s perfectly brewed tea. Jane and Henry were already seated in front of their breakfast with the kind of enthusiasm only children could muster, syrup somehow already smeared across their cheeks when their father entered the kitchen.

And indeed, Fred Weasley indeed made you swoon.

When he wandered into the kitchen with the bag you packed for the beach, you felt your face heat up at the sight. He wore his light blue summer shirt that complimented his features beautifully—you honestly weren’t sure if he was a greek statue brought to life.

“Mum, you’re gonna cut into the plate.” Jane giggled and stopped your movements, tilting her head when you snapped your attention back to her food. “What’re you staring at daddy for?”

“Why are you being nosy?” Fred poked his daughter’s back, smiling when she laughed at the familiar feeling. “Mum can stare at me all she wants.”

Fred slid into the seat beside you, his arm casually draped over the back of your chair as he leaned in to whisper, “You know, I could get used to this. Waking up to you, the kids, and a view like that.” He gestured toward the window, where the sparkling Aegean Sea stretched out endlessly, its waves glinting like diamonds under the morning sun.

You smiled, leaning into him slightly. “Ten years of this, and you’re just now getting used to it?” You teased, nudging him with your elbow.

“Ten years of this,” he echoed, his voice softening as his gaze met yours. “And I still can’t believe how lucky I am.”

Jane scrunched her nose in playful disgust, stuffing her mouth with a fork full of pancakes with blueberries. “Ew, Daddy. You’re so mushy.”

Fred gasped dramatically, clutching his chest as if she had wounded him. “Mushy? Me? I���m the definition of ruggedly handsome, Jane.”

Henry, still munching on a piece of cut up banana, giggled and shook his head. “Mum thinks you’re handsome, but you’re just silly.”

You smirked and took a sip of your tea as your kids argued with their father, knowing they were an exact replica of him. You sighed and rested a hand over your stomach, holding back a laugh when Jane stuck her tongue out at Fred.

“I happen to like silly.” You added as Fred stuck his tongue out at his daughter, making you roll your eyes in amusement.

Fred locked eyes with you and waggled his eyebrows. “I guess you're lucky too, love, because you’re stuck with me.”

The morning passed in the easy rhythm of family life—Molly and Arthur doting on their grandchildren, Fred entertaining the twins with wild hand gestures as he retold stories—this time slightly exaggerated for dramatic effect—and you soaking in every moment.

By late morning, you made your way to the beach, the golden sand warm beneath your toes. The twins raced ahead, kicking up tiny clouds of sand as they shrieked with joy. Fred, carrying the beach bag, walked beside you, fingers loosely laced with yours.

“You happy, love?” He asked, squeezing your hand gently.

You turned your face up to the sun, the salty breeze playing with your hair, and sighed contentedly. “More than I ever thought possible.”

Fred grinned and tugged you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple before lifting his voice. “Alright, team! Let’s build a sandcastle bigger than the Burrow!”

Henry and Jane cheered, already digging into the sand with determination.

You knelt beside them as you set up the blanket on the sand, laughter bubbling from your lips as Fred made a show of supervising, hands on his hips like some kind of foreman. The hours passed in golden warmth, filled with playful splashes in the sea, shrieks of delight as Fred tossed the kids into the waves, and soft, stolen kisses between you and your husband when the twins weren’t looking.

As the sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting everything in a golden glow, the four of you sat before your grand sandcastle—an uneven, slightly lopsided but utterly magnificent creation.

Jane leaned against you sleepily, her damp, red-curls sticking to her forehead. “This was the best day ever,” she murmured, yawning.

Henry nodded in agreement, rubbing at his tired eyes. “Yeah… Can we do this every year?”

You glanced at Fred, your heart swelling at the sight of him watching your children with so much love it was almost tangible. He met your eyes and smiled, the same boyish, mischievous grin you’d fallen in love with all those years ago.

“Every single year,” Fred promised, voice full of warmth.

You lean closer to him and give him a quick kiss, eyes shining with your own secret. “Maybe with one more addition to the family,” you whisper.

His eyes widened and looked down toward your stomach, grin widening when you nodded. He pulled you closer to him, in return pulling the sleepy twins along.

And in that moment—with your family nestled together, the waves whispering their lullaby, and the sky painted in fiery shades of orange and pink—you knew that love, real love, was absolutely endless.

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[tokeposts]

⁀➷ TALK TOO MUCH | I. MIDORIYA

warnings. none. it's just pure fluff!

pairings. izuku midoriya x flirty!gn!reader

767 | Izuku Midoriya talks way too much but you shut him up in the best way you know how.

next | masterlist | back

The common room buzzed with the sound of your classmates unwinding after another grueling day of training. Izuku was in his own world, pacing animatedly in front of the couch, hands flying in every direction as he analyzed the latest hero battle footage on the TV. A clip of endeavor's most recent battle replies on the screen, the reporter adding their own analysis, and Izuku visibly brightens.

"Here! Right there! Endeavor uses his Jet Burn to counter that villain's quirk, but you can see here. He's already calculated its trajectory based on—"

You sat slouched on the couch, one hand propping up your chin while the other clutched a glass of water. Ice cubes already melted, condensation cool against your hand. For the first few minutes, you'd been nodding, offering a few hums and quick "wows" to keep Izuku going, but at this point, your brain was mush.

You love Izuku, there's no doubt in your mind about it, but sometimes after none stop lectures and rigorous training, you just want a bit of peace. You'd think he'd be the same. You sneak a glance at the boy again and he smiles impossibly brighter at you (much to your dismay).

Despite your short-lived responses, Izuku wasn't slowing down. No, infact, he was ramping up, spiraling into a second analysis of yet another fight as the news anchor praises the number two hero, Hawks, this time.

Izuku waves the TV remote animatedly in the air using it as a makeshift pointer as he rambles on.

"Midoriya," you said, your tone calm but firm. He didn't hear you or maybe he did but assumed it wasn't important enough to stop just yet. "And if you think about how his quirk output works in tune with Hawks', it just makes—"

"Izuku." This time, louder with a bit more demand.

He glances your way for a split second, green eyes wide with remorse and a faint red tinting his freckled cheeks, but his train of thought was unstoppable, barreling ahead without a second to spare.

"—you can see how they predicted each other's moves! It's just incredible how—"

That was it. You didn't think; you acted. With one smooth motion, you stood up and grabbed the front of his shirt yanking him down to you. His big green eyes went impossibly wider, his words freezing mid-sentence as your lips pressed firmly against his.

The world seemed to stop. The remote to the TV slipped from his hands, clattering to the floor with a loud thud, but neither of you noticed. To absorbed in the way his lips molded perfectly to yours. How his hands trembled before cautiously resting them on your waist. His breath hitched against your mouth, and for once, Izuku Midoriya was left utterly and completely speechless.

You pulled back slightly, lips brushing his as you smile,

"There. Much better."

Izuku's face was on fire, his freckles practically glowing against the deep red flush spreading across his cheeks and the tips of his ears. He looks around first, wondering if there were any other witnesses. When none of your classmates meets his eyes, he loudly coughs hiding his face behind his hands.

You smirked, leaning back into the couch as if nothing had happened. "Finally some peace," you sigh.

He stood there, stunned, mouth gapping open and close like a fish out of water. After a beat of silence, finally, he manages to stammer, "was I talking that much?"

"You were," you teased, taking a sip of your water. "But don't worry. Now I gotta foolproof plan for whenever you start up again."

He blinked, still rooted to the spot you left him, his fingers brushing over his lips as if trying to process what had just happened. Then suddenly, the dots start connecting.

"You can't just kiss someone to make them stop talking!"

"I didn't just kiss someone. I kissed you." You raised a brow, smiling at the way Izuku stammers. "And I felt you kiss me back, so are you really gonna act like you didn't like it?"

Izuku sputtered as he tried to form a coherent response. His face still glowing a deep red as he waved his hands animatedly in the air. He needed to say something, anything. You had just kissed him for god's sake, the one person he's had feelings for since his first year. Oh god, he might just throw up. Meanwhile, you leaned back with a satisfied grin, a small laugh leaving you as you watched him you short circuit, already looking forward to the next time he talked too much.

notes. based off the song talk to much by coin + dedicated to @sunnymain bc we both listen to coin hehehe

[jccatstudios]

Six of Crows Character Design Notes

Character design notes for my most recent character lineup for The Crows! I did this last time for the super old ones I did right after I read the series, so these new ones are much closer to how I imagine them. There probably will be a good amount of rehashing from the old notes, but I hope you enjoy these nonetheless!

Kaz and Inej

Closest in color scheme due to how close they are at the start of the series, though there is a difference between the purples. Kaz's purple accents are light and muted (similar to the color of Kruge). Inej's tunic is more indigo, shifting away from the warmer purple she wore at the Menagerie. After she realizes her dream in the incinerator shaft, I imagine her theme color changing to dark blue, then dark teal by the end of the series.

I often see Kaz in a red tie, but he had to wear something different for my design since him and Van Eck would basically be in the same outfit. His black shirt is also meant to distinguish him from the real merchant class.

Coin added to Kaz's pose to refer to his magician and thief personas (and a callback to his backstory)

Their vests symbolize their morality. Kaz's is asymmetrical ("crooked and wrong...") while Inej's evenly goes down the center (more balanced and true to herself).

Jesper and Wylan

They're meant to contrast each other, since they don't exactly see eye-to-eye at the start, but their similarities are important. Both have patterned elements, brown leather boots, and freckles. My favorite differences: vibrant vs muted, gold vs silver, open vs closed poses

Jesper has freckles just because I feel like they suit him but also as a visual connection to Jordie. :)

Wylan is holding a Victorian fire grenade! They were actually used for extinguishing fires back then, but I can imagine Wylan replacing the ingredients to do the exact opposite.

I used to draw Jesper in a longcoat just because that look from the show is so iconic, but I changed it to something more cropped. The shorter coat makes him look taller and differentiates his silhouette from Kaz's.

Wylan's black vest is meant to hint at his merch family ties.

Nina and Matthias

Another couple who clashes through color palette! Nina's Heartrender red vs Matthias's northern blue. They also differ in leather color (black vs brown).

Matthias was a bit harder to design since he's not wearing clothes that he'd pick out himself. These are whatever Kerch dockworker clothes the gang could find for him, but I feel like they suit him enough to convey his personality.

Nina's necklace pendant is teardrop shaped (The Queen of Mourning).

Nina is wearing makeup and nail polish. From my limited research on Victorian culture, this was seen as improper, but I think that fits Nina's boldness all the better. I don't try to make any of my designs authentically Dutch Victorian (It's a fantasy series after all! Why not make semi-anachronistic designs that value personality over accuracy?), but it is fun to think about how these characters would be interpreted with that lens.

[ssscatola]

task force 141 headcanons because I have free will

soap wears nothing but adidas slides when he's on leave. he's sick and tired of getting blisters from his military boots that he refuses to wear any other shoe when he's back in scotland

ghost's favorite season is spring. he loves hearing birds chirping and singing (would never admit this out loud) and enjoys hiking when the weather is just right.

gaz will cook a mean roast and is a snob about what herbs and spices go with what meat and vegetables. (this goes for soap as well bc i headcanon he was raised on a farm)

price is so fucking tired all the time but hides it really well. he'll fall asleep standing up in a heli without a problem

speaking of price, he's a loud ass cougher and sneezer and the rest of the force mimic and tease him about it

ghost has every member of the force's phone number. Price is saved in his contacts as 'Captain Price'. Gaz is 'Kyle Garrick'. Soap is just /insert scottish phone number/ and he refuses to change it just to piss off Johnny

to continue that adidas slides thought for soap, i like to think he's dripped out in any sportswear brand. DEFINITELY has a Napapijri jacket and at least three nike puffer jackets. every item of clothing for the gym is either nike or under armour and every running shoe he has is by asics

Gaz has five colognes he rotates. Soap has three (used to have four but lost one??? where the fuck is it?). Price has one that he's been rebuying for the past fifteen years. Ghost also has one (stole the best-smelling one from Johnny)

Gaz really likes board games while Ghost enjoys card games

Price knows some russian and soap is learning spanish

Ghost grew up with nothing and is now insatiable. doesn't spend that much on decorating his apartment or clothes but he sees a weighted or heated blanket on amazon with raving reviews? doesn't even check the price; it's in his cart. A new mattress made out of memory foam for his shitty back? added to cart. He sees a commercial for a 70-inch flat-screen tv? he needs it to watch soccer in 16k 240fps and 480p re-run episodes from youtube of 'how it's made' when johnny visits him.

price types with one finger (sorry to this man)

ghost rarely types out a response to a text. or if he does respond, it's just a thumbs-up emoji

soap gets down NASTY to 2000's and 2010's music. Like girl this man is breaking his neck and back and ankles on the dancefloor after three-four drinks and nobody can stop him

continuing for soap, he once got wasted and borrowed a cigarette from someone at a club and turned into a hired assassin for the night. the guy who gave him the cigarette got jumped and soap dislocated the attacker's jaw with one punch

gaz has every allergy under the sun while ghost gets the flu every five years or so

ghost has a sharp left canine and johnny nearly flatlines when he sees it

price has freckles on his biceps and shoulders

ghost notices soap is always chewing gum. they make stops during missions so the sergeant can buy (more like swipe) a pack. always the same brand, always the same flavor, and he always offers a piece to ghost. for his birthday, ghost gifts him two mega packs (that's like 400 pieces?) of his preferred gum and soap's heart swells in his chest

these are all over the place but i'm writing a ghoap fic and my motivation is dwindling so i just had to write this :')

if anyone wants a part 2 let me know bc this was a lot of fun to write!

[lokidjarin-7567]

The Prophecy

Viktor x You When the friend of your youth, Viktor, sees you still living in the Undercity, and working in a strip club at that, he is determined to reconnect, and rekindle a childhood friendship that was rooted in something more. Contents: fem!reader, fluff, angst and smut all in one folks, 18+ MDNI, a few physical features described but still reader insert I think (hair colour and freckles), both Viktor and you POVs, long-ass one shot 8.1k words Taglist: @night-fall-moon @zsuzsu321 @sh1zhu @circeinspace @casualjagodek @retrokatz @am-3-thyst @xlittlemissydjx @sseleniaa @thefandomsfervent Hi guys, thanks for bearing with my while I've been working on this one!! I have been absolutely obsessed with this man ever since I finished Arcane, so I just had to write something about him! I also think a lot of people mischaracterise him, so I tried really hard to get his personality right - let me know if I actually have lol. Anyone who knows my works knows how slutty my smut can get lol, but this is actually quite tender so a new one for me too. Anyway, I'll stop waffling now, I hope you enjoy. TTPD Contents | General Masterlist | AO3

DISCLAIMER: while this, in my opinion, is still classified as an ‘x you’ fic, a few physical features are described, namely ‘you’ having burgundy red hair that is, at one point, described as curly and having freckles, alongside a handful of super vague descriptors (eg. fluttering eyelashes, slope of her nose AKA things that can be applied to any and all faces) - basically everyone in the Arcane show has cool hair so I thought this would be a cute detail. It’s possible to ignore if you don’t want to think about have a different hair colour, but if you don’t want to, don’t read it! Almost every comment on this fic has been relating to this which, when I put hours of hard work and effort into something that I was proud of, is insanely demoralising. There has always been a disclaimer in the contents above, but I’m adding it here as well so it’s as clear as possible. Dead dove do not eat and all that. And I’m always open to constructive criticism, but there’s a way to go about it, and a way that will put someone in a slump for months, so please think before you comment! Anyway, not to put a downer before the work, thank you for the reposts and loves so far ❤️

Viktor was lost in thought as he made his way back to Piltover, small tube of Shimmer tucked away in his satchel. He didn’t know what to do. Using it might stabilise the Hexcore, allowing it to keep the plants alive and accomplish everything he and Jayce had been working towards for years, maybe even curing this sickness that had taken over him, or…

Or it could end horribly.

The undercity was as dark and unpleasant as he remembered it. He had never fit in here in his youth - too scrawny, too bookish, and with his leg, he stood no chance. And now was no different.

The neon store signs stood out against the blackened buildings and muddy streets. This part of the city, deep in the underbelly of Zaun, seemed busier than the rest, roads bustling with call girls and salesmen and tourists from Topside taking their pick of unruly establishments. Hundreds of voices layered atop each other in a cacophony of harsh laughter, garish music and argumentative tones. There was barely space to walk, especially with his cane, and he was starting to wonder if this journey was even worth it.

Then something caught his eye. A flash of red, deep and vibrant, moving towards him on the far side of the lane. It was hair, bouncy and curly and his subconscious told him it was shorter than it should’ve been, but it was a colour he knew. Her face wasn’t one he could place at first, but as she got closer, he saw the freckles that smattered across her nose like a constellation, her pink lips that were perpetually curled into a soft frown, her eyes that she always accentuated with brown liner. It was her.

The only friend of his youth. A young girl who used to sit behind the foliage near the water where he tested his inventions. She was shy, even shyer than he used to be, too scared to ask him anything about what he was making for a long time, just watching with curious eyes. But he would never forget the day she moved closer. The way her long, burgundy locks flowed around her, almost touching the floor, the way she was trying her best to be confident, but there was a soft shake in her hand, and a slight stutter as she said hello. Then she produced a small invention of her own - a submarine, the same colour as her hair, designed to float perfectly so the periscope was the only thing that peeked out from the surface.

For years, they were inseparable. She was more artistic than him, always adding a flair to her designs that he didn’t have, so he’d let her ‘improve’ his too. They would play together, and then as they got older, build together, each creation more daring and experimental. And then they started to drift apart. They were in their mid teens when her mother got sick, and she couldn’t make it out as much. Viktor always offered to help, but she refused, not even allowing him to see where she lived. And so, when Professor Heimerdinger found him and offered him an opportunity to be his assistant, he couldn’t even tell her. He left a note, delicately placed under a rock where they would build together, telling her where to find him and how to get in touch, but he never heard anything.

And now here she was. He called out her name softly, not wanting to alarm her in this hostile city, but she didn’t hear. She’d walked past him now, so he turned, following but she was walking fast, faster than he could manage. He called out again, but it wasn’t until then that he noticed the headphones over her ears. She couldn’t hear a thing. He carried on, hoping she would stop but she didn’t. If it was anyone else, he would’ve gone home, given up, but now he’d caught a glimpse of her, he had to see her. To talk to her. To find out why she never got in touch. To apologise for leaving her behind.

She disappeared from view for a moment, and he panicked, thinking he’d lost her again, but he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye, entering an alley beside a row of bars and clubs. He grimaced, following her to see the red locks just moving out of sight again, and a bouncer closing the door behind her. He tried to follow her into the building, but the man stopped him.

“Please…” he asked, out of breath, “it’s an old friend, I need to see her…”

“Staff entrance only, pal. You’ll have to go ‘round the front like everyone else.”

“But… she’s right there… I only need one moment, if she just saw me…” The words died on his lips. Would she even recognise you?

“Don’t make me ask you twice.”

It was dark inside the club, the lights low apart from on the stage and around the bar. It was only mid afternoon, but the place was near full of lowlifes just starting their evenings, sloshing their drinks and talking loudly. The neon from outside carried into this space too, strip lights around the platforms accentuating their presence. There were dancers atop each of them, but he averted his eyes. He shouldn’t have come here. This was so far from his comfort zone, loud and unruly, a long way away from his lab, but he had to see her. He couldn’t let her go again.

He found a stool by the bar, ordering a soda and waiting for her to start her shift. There was no way he could miss her again if he was right here when she started.

And then he saw her at the very edge of his vision, as though his eyes were programmed to search her out in any crowd. She was on stage, cherry red hair glowing in the soft lights, combined with the neon from below making her look like a ghost, ethereal. What was she doing up there?

***

“Afternoon, Joey.” You muttered to the bouncer, and he opened the door for you wordlessly as you slipped off your headphones, replacing your perfectly selected playlist with the sleazy music of the club. Just one of the many reasons you hated working here. You were running late, as per, throwing your things in your locker and quickly changing. Lacing up your shoes always took the longest time, and you barely even had a chance to check yourself in the mirror when you were finished. Your hair looked perfect at least, the naturally burgundy curls sitting at shoulder length. You missed the long hair of your youth, but it become impractical very quickly, and the memories it held… you ended up cutting it all off soon after your mum died. That was when you started working here too. You’d had dreams, of course you did, but growing up in the Undercity made it almost impossible to follow them. There were worse places to work though - for the most part, the patrons were respectful, and everyone who you worked with was kind, but it was still a strip club. At the end of the day, no little girl wanted to be an exotic dancer when they grew up. At least it just about paid the bills.

You had been put on a long shift today - late afternoon until the early hours. You didn’t mind though; it was exhausting, but more time meant more tips. And you needed the money. You were saving, slowly but surely. One day, it would be enough.

These shifts always started slow. Not many tips this early in the day. Not enough drunks - they were all too willing to part with their money, an exploit you knew how to use. After a while on stage, it was your turn to make your way into the crowd. You started away from the bar, smiling at a few, a couple of words of flirtation thrown around, but no one was loose enough for anything else yet. There was something different about the energy today though. You felt… exposed, on display, more than usual. Self conscious in a way you hadn’t been since your first week. By the time you got to the bar, you were already feeling frustrated at the lack of interest. But your favourite coworker was pouring the drinks tonight, and she had one ready for you already.

“Thanks, Katie” You crooned, knocking back the shot quickly and she immediately offered to refill - something you gratefully accepted.

“Thought you might need it. Slow start?”

“Yeah, not the best day so far.” You took your second, thanking her again, when you heard a voice call out your name. Your real name. It made you start, whipping your head around to find the source. You didn’t use that name here. You were expecting to see an ex, or an old boss, but instead you were met with a face you hadn’t seen in years.

His eyes hadn’t changed. Kind but tired, amber in colour and glowing like whiskey in sunlight. The curve of his nose was the same, the curl of his lips, the small moles like points on a map - one beneath his right eye and the other to the left of his lip. There was a cane tucked beside his stool, and he was dressed well. Too well to be in this part of town. A uniform of some sort, something a Topsider would wear: blue shirt accented with a cream ascot and waistcoat. It suited him.

As soon as you saw him, every fond memory of your childhood rushed back to you like a river. The gentleness when he explained his creations to you. His willingness when you asked if you could paint them pretty colours, or add cute designs. The way he held you as you cried about your mum falling ill. How quickly he offered you support, and how quickly you turned him down. You didn’t want to be a burden, but you regretted that choice as soon as he stopped showing up to your usual spot. You kept going for months before you gave up, still trying to find him. The last time you visited was to scatter your mum’s ashes - your stories of Viktor’s designs and the beautiful creek where you tested them out together being one of the last things that brought her comfort.

And now, he was here.

He’d made it out. He’d made it Topside. And you’d only fallen further down.

If there was one person you never wanted to see you like this, it was him. He was the only slither of your youth and innocence left, the only soul in the whole of Runeterra who knew the true version of yourself, the first version of yourself. The version you actually liked. And now, he had to see this. You couldn’t tell what you were feeling. Every emotion was vying for attention: joy, nostalgia, anger, envy…

He repeated your name in a questioning tone, and you realised you’d been staring at him, the rollercoaster of emotions you just went on likely visible on your face.

“Do you know him, darling? Or shall I grab Joe?” Katie asked from behind the bar, staring him down with a protective look. Viktor opened his mouth to speak, indignant look on his face, but you answered for him, never once being able to tear your eyes from him.

“Yeah I… cover for me? If anyone asks, he got a dance.”

“Of course.” Viktor’s gaze had returned you, confused, and you just muttered a ‘come on’, signalling him to follow you, and you lead him across the floor to one of the private rooms. They weren’t exactly the nicest places to talk, the whole room painted a hideous deep purple, a weirdly-shaped black velvet sofa the only thing to sit on. As soon as you closed the door, turning around to see the soft look on his face, every drop of anger seeped from you, replaced with relief. Relief that he was alive. Relief that he had done something with his life. Relief that you hadn’t lost him forever.

You couldn’t help it but let the tears fall as you threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him tight.

***

He was surprised by her warm welcome. After all these years, he had always imagined she would resent him, but here she was, face pressed to his chest as she hugged him, tears falling onto his shirt. He didn’t even have to think about it, one arm naturally surrounding her as she cried, keeping her close, while the other held firm to his cane, ensuring it was stable for the both of them. He never wanted to let her go again.

She eventually pulled away though, wiping her tears with the shy smile he remembered so well.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to.. on your fancy Topside shirt too.” She laughed nervously, tucking her hair behind her ears. “I… um, I imagined bumping into you one day, finding you again, but I never thought I would be dressed like this.” He finally let himself glance down at her when he said that, to take her in completely, safe in the knowledge that she wasn’t meeting his eyes. She looked beautiful - a black two-peice set, solid silk on the areas that counted, but the frills and accents were a sheer lace, stockings too, glittering beads woven into the delicate material. Even if the environment didn’t suit her, somehow the clothes still did, the same style he’d seen her develop in her teenage years. Simple in colour, beautiful in design - the cunning of her inventor’s mind applied to her other passion.

“What are you doing here, Viktor?” She sat down on the awkward sofa, curling her legs up onto it, and he followed suit, resting his cane against the arm.

“I could ask you the same thing.” It fell from his lips before he could stop it, and he winced, expecting her to be offended, but she just smiled sadly.

“You got out.” She stated as a shrouded question, ignoring his quip, and he nodded. He could explain, he should, but not yet.

“And you never wrote me.” He responded.

“Write you? Viktor, I didn’t know where you were.” She never got your letter.

“I left you a note by the creek. You never got it?” She shook her head. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve found you somehow, or…”

“It’s ok, Vik.” She shuffled closer on the loveseat, grabbing his hand and squeezing tight. Hearing the name she used to call him sent a pang of pain to his heart. This is what he had been missing out on all these years, all because of a stupid letter. “If I was in your shoes, I’d have done the same. Besides, I never let you see where I lived, or anything else about me. And when mum… I fell off the face of the earth. I wouldn’t have let you in no matter how hard you tried.”

“I’m still sorry.”

“I know.”

***

You spent a long time asking about his life now. He was working in the academy, partners with Piltover’s favourite researcher, helping to create the HexTech that kept the whole city afloat… he had changed the fucking world. And you were… here. Still.

He said your name softly, as though trying to broach a subject carefully and you knew what was coming. You had seen the query floating in his eyes since the moment he saw you.

“What are you doing working here? I mean, you’re brilliant, more so than me, and yet…”

“I’m still stuck in the Lanes?” You sighed.

“Well, yes.” You’d never once thought of him as ignorant. Maybe he’d been living Topside for too long.

“I never got my break. You deserved what you got, of course you did, and you’re the smartest person I know, Viktor, but that doesn’t change the fact that you got lucky. And it’s not the same here as when we were kids. Sure, things weren’t great then, but now… There are no jobs, no money, housing is insanely competitive even though most of it is disgusting.. it’s a vicious cycle meant to keep you in the shitter. This is what I could get. It pays my bills and lets me save a little, the other girls are nice, it’s close to my apartment…”

“But…” You knew from the look on his face what he was going to say - a long speech about how much potential you have, and how much better you could have it. You dropped his hand.

“But what?” You couldn’t help but snap, defensive over the very job that you cursed daily. “But I’m better than selling myself to sleazy drunks? You think I don’t fucking know that? You think I want to be losing my sense of self every day just so I can keep the lights on? You think it’s my dream to feel like I’m a lesser human being because I will let someone pay me to take them into this room and…” You stood up then, starting to pace as silent tears fell. You never let yourself think about any part of your life longer than you had to. Not pondering on it was the only thing keeping you alive.

“You know I wasn’t saying that…”

“I know I’m sorry… I just…”

“I know… I know…” He stood up then too, wrapping you in his arms and letting you cry. Again. You felt so stupid. “I missed you.” He whispered, face nestled into your hair, barely audible.

“I missed you too.” The tender moment didn’t last for long though, as a sharp knock on the door startled you, jumping away from him and wiping your eyes.

“Vikki?” Joey’s voice called out, and you breathed a sigh of relief. “You ok in there?” You put on your smiley voice, cooing back to him.

“Yeah, all good Joe, got a paying customer in here...”

“You got it, doll.” You heard him walk away, and turned back to see Viktor looking at you, head cocked, small smirk playing across his features.

“What?” You asked with a shy smile, wiping away the last of your tears.

“Vikki?” Oh.

“Well I couldn’t exactly use my real name.” He laughed at that, and you couldn’t help but giggle too. “That does mean we’ve been in here too long though, I should…”

“Yeah, no of course…” he moved to open the door, grabbing his cane, but you stopped him quickly, pressing your hand against the door frame.

“One second…” He frowned as you reached towards him, but he didn’t move, just watched curiously as you took your time unknotting his ascot. Once it was off, you unbuttoned a few of his buttons, trying to ruffle his shirt a little, make it look like you had actually been doing your job rather than talking to an old friend. “There…” you muttered quietly, realising he’d shuffled a little closer to you as you worked, and now his lips were only a breath away. He was looking at you so intently, as though there was something he wanted to say, but he never spoke, just gazed at you in a way that made your heart swell. Your hands lingered on his chest, comforted by the warmth and solidness of him. A reassurance that he was real and here. You didn’t want to move.

“Please, don’t go anywhere just yet…” you muttered, the words tumbling from your lips before you could stop them.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

***

She had been backstage for a while now, muttering something about trying to move her shifts around. She came back beaming, and it was infectious, a smile he was trying to fight taking over his own face just at the sight of her.

“Ok, if you’re busy tonight, or you have plans, you can tell me to piss off…”

“Never.” She blushed in response, her wide smile spreading further as she spoke, and he was helplessly drawn to her, eyes scanning her face intently.

“Well, someone came in early for their shift, but someone else is running late… anyway, our schedule is a mess, but good news is I only have to stay for another hour and then I’m free so… I was thinking, maybe you’d want to grab some food and catch up? Unless you have somewhere else to be…” She still sounded so shy, so unsure - the same habit she had when she was young, babbling when she was nervous. He was finding it hard to connect the dots in his mind: the timid person before him now, the girl he used to know, and the dancer on that stage, full of bravado and confidence.

“That sounds wonderful.” The joy in her face was intoxicating, and he watched as relief visibly washed over her body.

“Ok, brilliant.” She spun away for just a moment, trying to track down the bartender she seemed to know well. “Katie, he’s with me, ok? Send him back in like an hour, and his drinks are on my tab.” He tried to protest, but she rested a hand on his shoulder, quickly silencing him. “I insist. It’s the least I can do, considering how long you have to wait around.” Again, he tried to tell her didn’t mind, that he’d wait as long as she needed, anything for her, but she was gone already, slipping into the crowd, his shoulder cold where her hand had been. He sighed, turning back towards the bar on his stool, taking another sip of his soda.

“That’s our Vikki…” Katie mused, slicing a few garnishes behind the bar. “Never accepting that somebody else would want to do something for her.” He let out a dry laugh, half at the name, half in agreement.

“That sounds like her.” A beat of silence passed between them. The club was starting to fill up, but it wasn’t too rowdy yet, and nobody else was at the bar, all relying on bottle service and shot girls instead.

“Drink?” He shook his head politely. “How do you know her?” Katie asked, staying busy but obviously trying to snoop. He didn’t mind. She was a topic he didn’t mind talking about.

“Childhood friend. I haven’t seen her in… a very long time.” Her eyebrow shot up at that.

“What was your name, by the way?”

“Viktor.” A look of surprise flitted across her face.

“Ohh.” She drawled knowingly, smiling at herself as she continued to wedge limes.

“What?”

“I’ve heard of you, that’s all. Her childhood love who disappeared on her while her mother was dying…”

“You don’t know the whole story…” He snapped back quickly. He might hate himself for what happened, but he felt the need to defend his choices. It had turned out well for him, he just wished he could’ve found her. Taken her with him. Their life could’ve been so different. Katie chuckled, continuing her tasks.

“Oh trust me, I do. She’s very quick to defend you, you know. You can do no wrong in her eyes…”

“Not so sure about that…” As he muttered to himself, something she’d said suddenly hit him. Her childhood love…“Actually, on second thought, I will grab a drink please, whatever she usually has. But don’t put it on her tab…”

“I wasn’t planning on it, Topsider.” She saluted mockingly with a smile.

Two down and that was all he was having, just needing something to take the edge off after Katie’s admission. All those years wasted, because you thought childhood love was stupid and pointless. And now, seeing her again, you still love her as much as you did back then…

Katie was on her break, so he twisted in his seat, trying to find her in the crowd. She had never been difficult for him to spot, everything about her so familiar to him, and this time, she was centre stage, which made it even easier. Every part of him was screaming to turn away, to not taint his view of her, but he was instantly transfixed. She danced so fluidly, so gracefully. Every movement she made was purposeful and poised. However much she hated her job, she took pride in it. He was a scientist, sure, but she was a creator, through and through.

***

You were finally finished, and you were exhausted. Even though it wasn’t even half a usual shift, seeing Viktor, all the memories it brought back, it had been so emotionally draining.

You were grateful that the changing area was empty. It wasn’t the usual shift time, and no one ever came here on their break, so at least Viktor wouldn’t have to deal with that. You almost laughed at the thought.

There was a gentle knock, and his voice sent a flutter straight to your heart.

“Vikki?” He called out mockingly, and you laughed at the way he’d latched on to your new name. It was inspired by him, after all. “Are you decent?”

“Yes, you can come in.” You were looking good, if you said so yourself. The fashion and the opportunity you were afforded to express yourself in that way was one of the few things you did like about this place. You’d tried to incorporate the shapes and designs of your ‘work attire’ into a more Lanes-friendly outfit, layering a black organza shirt over the lacy bodice, beading shining through the sheer fabric, pairing it with a bubble skirt and knee high boots, just the right height to allow your stockings to peek from the top. There was only one item that wasn’t black; his neckerchief that you had taken earlier was now around your own collar, tied in a dainty bow. He grinned as soon as he laid his eyes on it, striding towards you and gently holding the hemmed edge between his fingers.

“I guess I’m not getting this back, huh.”

“Never.” He shrugged.

“I’m ok with that.” God, the way he looked at you. It made you melt without fail, warm flush spreading across your cheeks.

“Are you ready to go?” You muttered, eyes still glued to his, honey tones making you feel as though you were stuck in them. A fly trapped in amber, resigned to its fate.

“I’m ready when you are.”

You’d decided you were going to cook for him tonight instead of taking him out. The places near you either weren’t nice enough, or they knew you for the wrong reasons. Besides, you wanted to show him your place. To show him that, even though you were still here, you had done everything you could to make the best of it, to continue learning and inventing and developing yourself.

That did mean you had to stop by the store, though. Which meant bumping into Angel. He and Viktor would not get on.

You had grabbed Viktor’s arm as soon as you left the club, a habit from the times Joey had walked you home, knowing that you were safer beside a man than by yourself. Even though the Undercity was bustling tonight, there was something so soothing about being here with him. A nostalgia warming you from the inside out. He let you guide him into the shop below your apartment, chatting absentmindedly about nothing and everything, when a smooth voice stopped yoou in your tracks.

“Not so fast, Vikki…” You groaned, turning back the few steps you had made into the entrance.

“Hey Angel.” You cooed, although it felt wrong falling into your usual flirtatious routine when Viktor was right behind you. He was working behind the counter today, thumbing through the till. His long dreadlocks were down, grey peeking through his beard, wide grin as his eyes traced over you, following your arm to where it joined the man next to you.

“Is that a nickname, or…” Viktor muttered, and you couldn’t help but laugh as you responded.

“No, Vik, this is my landlord Angel…”

“Landlord, huh? Thought I was more than that, sugar…” He leaned across the counter, shit-eating smile on his face, clearing noticing and enjoying the fact he was winding up your new companion. Viktor scowled, moving a step closer to you.

“Yeah, yeah, keep dreaming, old man…” You sent him a wink, and he laughed, the booming noise of it always making you smile. “What have you got in that’s fresh? I’m actually cooking tonight…”

You chatted a little longer, grabbing what Angel recommended and some wine, before heading upstairs via the back of the shop. Viktor was still scowling slightly as you were unlocking your door, and you laughed lightly, nudging him with the bag of shopping.

“What?” He huffed.

“I don’t like that guy.” He grumbled, feeling smug that you had called it.

“He’s my landlord, Vik, and a friend. He’s a good guy, don’t worry.” He just shrugged as you finally got the door open, and you thanked the stars that you had remembered to tidy last night, or else it would be a complete tip. There were still remnants from your busy morning scattered all around the studio: scrap pieces of fabric and thread strewn across the kitchen table, the half-finished neglige you were constructing laid over the back of one of the chairs, the cogs and pieces of machinery lie abandoned next to your sewing machine in the wake of the modifications you were trying to make so it could handle more delicate material. The space itself was dark in colour, olive and navy washing the walls, brown leather sofa and black countertops marking their territory in the small apartment, the stain-glass screen in front of your bed the only splash of jewel toned colour. You could feel Viktor’s curiosity at the place, and as he stepped further into it, a smile settled onto his lips.

“It’s so very… you.” He said, and in any other intonation, it would’ve sounded like a bad thing, but when he said it, full of adoration.. it was a compliment of the highest order.

***

She was mesmerising as she cooked, twirling in the kitchen to her carefully selected vinyl, a wide smile on her face as she tested what she was making. He wanted to help but she wouldn’t let him, batting him away and telling him to sit down, and for now, he had obliged. But, as much as he wanted to help her always, right now, he just wanted to be close.

“At least let me pour the wine?” He said, already standing to help, and she huffed, but didn't object. Instead, she handed him the corkscrew and the bottle wordlessly. He smiled, leaning against the counter and continuing to watch her as she stirred. She was always so chaotic when she was creating, something evidenced by the near bomb-site on her kitchen table. It was just so… her. Everything about her apartment was as well, such a perfect and beautiful representation of everything she was, every tiny detail of her life and personality reflected in the space she lived in. The colours, the soft furnishings, the bookshelves lining the wall behind her bed. Then, he noticed something about the stain glass screen that separated the room, soft light from her bedside lamp washing through it and creating a blue ripple across the floor like a stream. It was of their place, their creek. It was abstract, sure, but he would recognise it anywhere. The way certain rocks jutted out, the colours of it all, the small boat floating in the still glass water.

“Did you make that?” He asked earnestly, and she briefly glanced up from the stove to see what he was looking at.

“Yeah, I've been trying out a lot of different hobbies actually, things to keep me busy when I’m not working. That was one of my favourites…”

“It’s beautiful.” She smiled sadly, focusing her attention back to the pan.

“It reminds me of you.”

He poured them both a glass, and she gratefully accepted.

“It’s nearly finished, just a few more… oh I meant to ask earlier…” Her mind was such a beautiful thing, the speed at which it moved so captivating, not even time to finish her own thought before starting another, “why were you even here today? In the Undercity, in my club… I just never thought I’d see you back here by choice.”

“I was visiting an old friend, a quandary about a new gadget Jayce and I are working on, but…” He was going to say something about it, ask her opinion on whether he should follow Doctor Reveck’s advice, what he should do next, but he decided against it. “He didn’t have any insights.”

“Maybe I can help?”

“No, I…” She looked hurt at the speed the word left his mouth, almost recoiling and turning back to her cooking with a frown. “I mean that you probably could, but I don’t want to taint tonight by talking about a project that has been frustrating me for weeks. Another time though, of course I would appreciate your insight.” She sighed in relief, smile flitting back across her face. She grabbed a spoon from the drawer, humming as she did, a flurry of breathtaking movement as she dipped it into the sauce, spinning back around and holding it up to him.

“Taste?” She asked, the look on her face so hopeful it melted him, her joy infectious. But underneath all of it, he couldn't help but notice the cracks: the bags under her eyes, the tiredness set into them, the subtle shake of her hand. But he just smiled, enveloping her hand in his and bringing the spoon to his lips.

“It’s perfect.”

“I’m not sure I’d go that far.” She looked proud nonetheless, spinning back away from him and he was left to watch again, heart swelling. He wanted this. Cooking with her, drinking wine in the kitchen to her favourite record, letting her order him around. He wanted the… intimacy of it. The domesticity. The realisation of it ached. You could’ve had this. All these years without her, all these years wasted. Precious time that you no longer have to spare. If you’d have just waited, just taken more time to find her, insisted on helping her even…

“It’s ready!” She exclaimed, presenting a plate with a wide grin, and every stress, every regret simultaneously melted away and intensified, a pit forming in his stomach.

“It looks wonderful.”

***

You had eaten, and you were both now on your second glass of wine. You felt closer to him with every single second, drawn to every word he said like moth to a flame. At some point in the evening, you’d moved to the floor, backs to the sofa, as you looked through some of your old sketches you had found. The conversation lulled momentarily, a faraway look in his eyes, and you realised how close you had gotten. Your elbow was leaning on the sofa, supporting your head with your body twisted to face him, knee pressing against his thigh. You moved your head forwards to glance at the sketchbook, and your hand fell, resting on his shoulder. A stillness fell over him at the touch, and he smiled sadly to himself.

“I think you should come back with me.” He stated with finality, and you froze.

“What do you…”

“I think you should come back to Piltover.” He closed the book, placing it gently on the low coffee table. He was serious. “Help Jayce and I with our projects. Let me teach you about HexTech.”

“Vik, I don’t exactly have any actual experience. I don’t have an education. I can’t afford to live Topside…”

“You can live with me.” He said it so simply, like it was so obvious. Of course you would love that. Now you’d seen him again, you didn’t want to be apart from him but… “Professor Heimerdinger can give you lessons, but you have the mind already. There are certain things that can’t be taught. You have the passion, the skill, the creativity…”

“But…” You weren’t trying to pick apart his plan, but it felt terrifying. Even though it was everything you had ever wanted, it felt so far fetched. Like a fever dream. It didn’t feel like your life, your future.

“No, I… I lost you once, I can’t do it again.”

“Vik…” He grabbed your hand that was resting by his shoulder, and you felt yourself relax into his touch. He turned head to meet your eyes, sadness creeping into them.

“I don’t have much time left.” The finality of his statement shocked you, and you couldn’t tell what he was talking about. Did he have somewhere else to be? Oh god, you’d already kept him here too long…

“What do you mean, time left?”

“I’m dying.” It felt like somebody had punched you in the gut, all the air in your lungs gone.

“You’re…”

“Dying.” He repeated factually, and your heart sank further into your stomach. “And if we don’t… Jayce and I are working on something that might help, but if it doesn’t, I need someone I trust to take over from me.”

“Viktor, hold on, I need to think…” Your mind was racing, and you still couldn’t quite wrap your head around everything, hands running through your hair. He was dying. He wanted you to move Topside. He wanted you to work with him. To take over his life’s work. “It’s been years. I haven’t seen you in years and now you want me to… now you trust me to…”

“Of course.” He muttered, speaking your name softly to get your attention, hand gently wiping your face where tears had fallen without you noticing. “You’re everything to me, you always have been. There’s nothing I wouldn’t trust you with.” His hand was still resting on your face, and as you searched his eyes, you saw something else. Something pleading, something that echoed the feeling bouncing around in your heart. It would be hard. It would take a long time to settle in, to learn the ropes, to feel like you belonged. But it was your dream. To help change the world. And if he didn't have long, there was no chance you were wasting any of your time left with him.

“Ok.” You answered nodding, and you watched a smile take over his face, heart swelling at the sight.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah… Vik, you’re offering me my dreams on a silver platter, and on top of it all, I get to be…” You nearly slipped, about to say be with you but you knew that was a lot. That you had only just reunited and to spring the whole I’ve loved you since I was 10 and I’ve never loved a soul since thing on him might ruin the dream that he’s just given you. But, fuck, you wanted to kiss him right now. “I get to work with you again.. there would have to be one hell of a catch for me to say no to that.”

“The whole dying thing isn’t too much of a problem then?” He asked with a slight smile, trying to hide a genuine fear beneath a joke.

“Oh, honey, knowing that we don’t have another decade of time to lose… I’m not letting you slip through my fingers this time.” His hand felt so natural resting against your cheek you’d forgotten it was there until it moved to cup the base of your neck, thumb drawing gentle lines across your jaw. His amber eyes were searching your features, looking for anything to indicate that you were unsure, but your resolve shone through, and you could see the moment he realised this was going to work, relief flooding through them.

Then, before you could process what was happening, his hand gently guided you forward until your lips brushed against his—light as a feather. For a moment, you couldn't believe he had just kissed you, that it was real. But as you met those pleading honey eyes, everything else faded away. Every doubt, every regret, every sliver of worry vanished, replaced by such overwhelming care and love that you felt you might burst. Your body gave in without conscious thought, melting into his arms as you kissed him. His hands drifted to the back of your head, tangling in your hair and pulling you closer. You couldn't get close enough, your hands gripping the front of his shirt. His fingers traced down your body until they reached your hips, pulling you over him. A soft giggle escaped into his mouth as you swung your leg over his, settling onto his lap. When he finally broke for breath, you found yourself chasing his lips, panting into the space between you with a wide smile.

His lips found yours again, this time with more urgency, more need. Your hands slid up his chest to his shoulders, steadying yourself as his grip on your hips tightened. The feeling of his fingers pressing into your skin sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn't help but let out a soft moan into his mouth. He smiled against your lips, one hand moving to cup your face while the other remained firmly at your waist.

"I've wanted this for so long," he whispered against your mouth, voice rough with emotion. You could only nod in response, too overwhelmed by the feeling of finally being in his arms after all these years.

The record had long since stopped playing, leaving only the sound of your shared breaths and racing hearts in the quiet apartment. His thumb traced gentle circles on your cheek as he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, full of warmth and something deeper, something that had been there all along. Something that you had been too blinded by insecurity to notice earlier. Something that you knew all too well, reflected in your own heart. You pressed your lips to the mole on his cheek, and the one beside his mouth, a small smirk playing across his features as you did.

“I still can’t quite believe this is happening.” You muttered softly against his cheek, and he sighed, thumb dancing across your lips.

You eventually found yourselves entwined on your bed, limbs tangled in soft cotton sheets, his back pressed firmly against your sturdy wooden headboard as you rocked onto him with gentle, deliberate movements. Each subtle shift of your hips sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, making your breath catch. You panted softly into his mouth as his strong, careful hands helped guide your every motion, his touch both grounding and electrifying. The overwhelming need to be closer drove you to pull him tighter against you, your arms wrapping securely around his shoulders until there wasn't even a whisper of space between your bodies. Your chest pressed firmly to his, feeling his rapid heartbeat matching yours, as your head naturally found its place in the crook of his neck. You pressed feather-light kisses against the sensitive skin, tasting the salt and breathing in his familiar scent. The intimacy of the moment was almost overwhelming - so intense, so raw, so perfectly natural - and you found yourself climbing toward your peak faster than you ever had before, your body responding to his every touch as if it had been waiting for this moment forever. You whined softly into his skin as pleasure built within you, each movement bliss, and he responded with a groan as he pressed his lips tenderly to your temple.

"That feels so good, sweetheart," he drawled, his voice coarse with desire, and your hips instinctively bucked harder against him, drawing a sharp gasp from both of you. His meticulous fingers traced teasing patterns across your hipbones before finding their way between your bodies, circling your sensitive clit with perfectly measured pressure that made your toes curl. His other hand gently cupped your chin, drawing you back until your eyes met his, gilded with desire but still so full of tenderness. His lips ghosted across yours before he pressed his forehead to your own, releasing your face and returning his hand to your hip, guiding you once more. You could feel yourself fluttering around him as your pleasure built to an almost unbearable peak, and his eyes rolled back, a broken groan escaping his lips and filling the charged space between you. The coil of pleasure wound tighter and tighter as you approached your climax, desperately seeking more of him, claiming his mouth in a deep, passionate kiss that swallowed the stream of desperate moans spilling from both your lips. When your release finally crashed over you, it was like nothing you'd ever experienced - all the pressure, all the built-up desperation exploded like a supernova and pure, white-hot ecstasy consumed every nerve ending, every thought, every sensation except the feeling of him inside you and against you. He followed shortly after, gasping your name like a prayer against your skin as his own pleasure overtook him, his lips finding purchase on your neck as he shuddered through his release. In that moment, it was perfection, hearing him, feeling him, everything you had ever dreamed of and more. But as you came down from your shared bliss, you couldn't quite silence the intruding thought lurking at the edges of your consciousness - that you wouldn’t have him for long.

***

She looked so peaceful curled against him, her head nestled perfectly in the crook of his chest as if she belonged there, her beautiful red hair fanning out like a fiery halo in the dim light. Her beauty was staggering - the gentle slope of her nose, the delicate arch of her brows, the soft curve of her lips - and he couldn't help but trace each feature with his fingertips, mapping the geography of her face with tender precision. She sighed contentedly in her sleep at his touch, unconsciously pressing closer to him, one hand curling loosely in the fabric of his sheets that lay across them. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this complete, this profoundly at peace, as if all the jagged pieces of his life had suddenly aligned. His fingers continued their gentle exploration, committing every detail to memory - the light dusting of freckles across her nose, the subtle flutter of her eyelashes, the way her lips curved slightly downwards even in sleep. He wanted to capture this moment, to carry it with him always like a talisman, a protection. A reminder that he would do anything to preserve her peace of mind. To make her happy.

The soft amber from the bedside lamp caught in her hair and painted her skin in warm honey tones, making her look almost otherworldly in her beauty, an ethereal being who had chosen, inexplicably, to be with him. He pressed his lips to her forehead in a feather-light kiss, breathing in the familiar scent of her hair, before letting his own eyes drift closed. Despite everything - the illness creeping through his veins, the uncertainty that clouded their future like a torrential storm on the horizon - right now, everything felt exactly as it should be.

[golddustwomanwins]

INVISIBLE STRING

Patrick Zweig x Best friend Reader

I keep having ideas for writing things for Patrick and I’m not even a Patrick girly (the irony). This is very much sheltered reader who hasn’t got a clue about anything. Receiving her first ever orgasm from her best friend Patrick (who’s doing it absolutely selflessly of course).

18+

Growing up you came to know that Patrick was an awfully touchy person. At first it threw you off. You rarely touched anyone, avoided hugs or shaking hands with people. But it was different with him. Being his best friend required for you to tolerate his touchiness.

When you were standing in the kitchen making a sandwich he’d pass by you, his knuckles grazing against your exposed midriff and triggering goosebumps to dance along your skin. When you were out on a walk—or going anywhere really—he’d take your hand in his, intertwining your fingers. You’d flushed every time he did it, even though you knew it didn’t mean anything to him.

On parties you’d both get separated for some time, only for a pair of strong arms to wind around you from behind. A nose nuzzling your neck and whispered words “‘missed you.”

It was like you two were attached by an invisible string pulling and stretching taught once one of you got too far away from the other.

His touchiness gave off the wrong impression to others. Speculating that you two had something going on, but you and him both were quick to deny the rumors. Still, it kept the boys at school at bay. They wouldn’t dare ask you out or even talk to you, knowing Patrick wasn’t far away. It kept you sheltered and sometimes you’ve been wondering if Patrick had been doing it on purpose. But that was ridiculous, he would never do such a thing.

It was a drastic change, to go from seeing him everyday at school to you leaving for Stanford with Art and him going on tour.

He only visited every few months when his schedule allowed it. Luckily for you, summer break correlated perfectly with him coming to see you. So here you were, in your childhood bedroom, the window wide open and the sweltering August air running through the room.

Patrick was only in his boxers, crammed against the wall to make space for you on the bed beside him. His eyes were trained on the TV as you lied on your stomach going through your seminars notes. His eyes flickered from the screen to your crossed ankles in the air, the delicate new glow your skin carried since going to college in CA.

He too had gained a slight tan, more freckles than usual dancing over his cheeks and nose. One hand of his was shoved beneath your tank top, only adding to the heat of your body but you didn’t mind. To be frank, you didn’t even register it, knowing Patrick it was only for his comfort.

“Art says you’re sharing some classes,” he mumbled, fingers moving softly beneath your shirt.

“Yeah.” You barely looked up from your notes, scratching and writing some sentences anew.

He pinched your side slightly and you squealed, glaring at him. His lips pulled into his trademark smirk. “I’m here for a short time and you’re focusing on your notes.”

“I thought you were watching the game?” You asked and he shrugged with a smirk. “I can multitask.”

His hand wandered up and rested between your shoulder blades, not asserting pressure only resting there.

You stashed your notes on the nightstand and turned on your side, stretching your body in the uncomfortable heat. “How’s touring going, then?”

“Same old.”

“Shitty then?” You chuckled when he protested. His hand wandered to your waist and tugged you closer to his body. His nose travelled along your collarbone. “I’m having you know that I’m doing quite well. Rankings going up for a while now.”

You shivered slightly at the contact, Patrick looking at you with a knowing glint in his eye. You always thought it was normal to feel this way. Slightly nervous, fluttery around him. It was just the effect he had on people. Due to your immunity against male attraction—and Patrick’s doing—he was the only male you had really contact with. You thought your feelings for him were purely platonic.

“I’m happy for you then.”

“Course you are.” He dropped a short kiss against your throat before stretching his body languidly beside you. You couldn’t help yourself but let your eyes dip down to his toned stomach. Abs rippling as he shifted into a comfortable position.

He caught your slip up, a slow smile stretching on his lips. “Anything other interesting happening that I’m missing out on?”

You looked up from his stomach, frowning. “What do you mean?”

“Well, going to college does include frat parties, right?”

You shrugged, putting your arms behind your head. Your shirt rid up in the process and Patrick’s hand immediately found your exposed stomach. He physically couldn’t stay away. It’s like your his little innocent vixen, created to make him want.

“Haven’t been to many. Arts taking me to a few meetups with the tennis players of Stanford. But no surprise, it’s mostly tennis talk.” You looked up at him. “And I get plenty of that from you.”

He chuckled, pulling you a little closer. “Yeah?”

You nodded. As if on accident your thigh slipped between his muscly legs and his pupils blew wide. You didn’t even know what you were doing to him.

“So no guy catch your eye?” He wasn’t exactly smooth with it. You frowned up at him. “What? Why?”

“Just wondering,” his fingers traced circles along your skin. Your body was growing warm with him this close, your thigh still nudged between his legs. You felt something shift against your leg, your eyes dipping down to his crotch for a moment. If you think back closely, there have been guys talking to you but you never imagined them to want anything more but talk. Their gazes lingered sure and sometimes they’d touch your waist while bending down to talk to you. But the music was always so loud, so you didn’t mind when they got closer. It never felt the way it did with Patrick.

“Still holding out for me then, huh,” Patrick asked you with lidded eyes and you wondered what he meant.

“You’re my best friend,” you insisted, thinking that he wanted reassurance.

Patrick chuckled lightly, his hand wandering to your cotton shorts, fingers playing with the elastic band. You held your breath, anticipation building but you didn’t know for what.

“You know, maybe I should reward you,” he mumbled against your throat, pressing a sloppy kiss there.

“Pat,” you breathe, not really understanding what he’s doing. You knew stuff. Heard your girl friends talking about it but they always tried not to talk about it, seeing the confused look on your face.

His hand wandered inside your cotton shorts, thumb running over the small little ribbon on your panties. He groaned looking down to see the soft pink of the fabric against your skin. His fingers slipped under the waistband of your panties and you quickly grabbed his wrist.

Patrick looked at you with parted lips. “You trust me, baby?”

“Of course I do.” You assured him, leaning closer. So eager to please. His fingers slipped further and your breath hitched when they swiped over your pussy. Your hips bucked as a soft whimper left your lips.

“Patrick,” you breathed and he licked your throat. “I know, baby.”

His fingers wandered lower, fingers freezing when they almost slipped through your cunt. “My, my, such a dirty little girl. All wet for me.”

You moan as his big fingers rub over the perfect spot, making a strange flutter appear low in your sex. Your hand was still gripping his wrist, nails digging into his skin as he kept mouthing your neck. Your hips were bucking against his hand as he kept a slow pace.

“You want more?” He asked and you nodded quickly, biting your lips until you tasted blood. Patrick scolded you, “you have a mouth, use it.”

“More,” was everything you managed and Patrick let out a breathy laugh, his own hips grinding against your thigh.

“‘M gonna stretch this tight little cunt,” before you knew what was happening his middle finger slipped through you and inside you. Your eyes widened surprised as you looked at him with flushed cheeks. Patrick eyed you with a dirty grin, pulling his fingers slowly out of you. You whimpered at the sensation. He slowly moved his finger in and out of you, lips meeting yours hungrily. Patrick kisses dirty, all tongue and teeth and spit. You moaned into his mouth as something dark coiled in your tummy. Your hips were moving as frantically as Patrick’s and you barely noticed his hard cock humping your leg.

“You gonna be a good girl and handle one more, yeah?” Patrick asked you, spit connecting his lips. He watched you as he slowly inserted another finger, you waited for it to hurt but he slipped into your cunt with ease. Patrick chuckled. “Such an easy slut. Wouldn’t even need any lube with you to slip my cock in. Perfect.”

He increased the pace of his fingers and you were a blubbering mess, eyes squeezed shut as Patrick roughly tugged the collar of your top down, lips closing around one nipple. When he started to press the heel of his palm against your clit while moving his fingers, stars burst in front of your eyes and the tight band in your tummy exploded.

“Fuck, you’re so hot when you cum,” his words and moving fingers only made the pleasure better, waves and waves coming at you. When soft after waves shocked through your body, Patrick pulled his fingers out of you, pulling a small whimper from you. His digits were glistening wet as he raised them to your lips. You eagerly took his fingers in, eyes widening surprised when he shoves them so far back you almost gag.

Entranced, Patrick watched you clean his fingers, still fully hard in his boxers. He was awfully gentle with you, hand stroking through your hair as he looked at you with his infamous smirk.

“Do you want me to…?” You motioned for the tent in his boxers. Patricks smirk widened before he pressed a kiss to your temple.

“Not tonight.”

[monzamash]

★ bargain bin; —send me a driver + prompt/dialogue starter and i'll write a tiny musing for you

loosen up charles leclerc x you —18+ (sex, mature themes, coarse language) —requested by @tlhd7 (absolute gem) and lovely anon 💖

you knew you were done the second you saw ferrari’s usgp liverly on instagram. the little slither of black peeking out of the collar of charles’ suit already conjuring up wild, wild thoughts. none of them holy. charles looked good in black, that was a well known fact — whether he was wearing a tuxedo or even lounging around in a simple black shirt he looked hot. and although he exuded sunshine energy most of the time, there was a darkness that you enjoyed about him. vexed and flustered charles turned you on.

once you had confirmation from your boyfriend that they were indeed wearing black fireproofs this weekend, the decision was final. you were flying out to texas because nothing was going to stop you from indulging in your greatest fantasy — jet lag who? and nobody was going to stop you from slinking into charles’ drivers room while he prepped for practice. absolutely nobody.

“knock knock…” you playfully greeted, causing charles to glance over from where he was perched on his physio bed. 

“well hello, mon ange… who let you in?” he teased back with a smirk and placed his phone on the table beside him.

“andrea did because i’m actually here to do your warm up massage… fred thought it was really important to get a professional in to make you feel good.” 

charles' soft smile dropped into a devilish smirk, eyes narrowing with desire as soon as his mind registered what you were saying. he liked to roleplay a little, especially on the road when everything felt so serious and tiresome — he loved a sprinkle of spiciness added to the mix and who better to bring it than the woman of his dreams.

“oh well don’t let me stop you, ma’am,” he rushed before laying back down on his front, smiling from ear to ear and giggling into the face hole.

“thank you, sir — i’ll get started on your back first… making sure all those hard knots are worked out before your race,” you stated, brushing your hands down the expanse of his clothed back. the black mesh felt smooth against your palms as you moved them up and down in long strokes, "how's that pressure?”

“incredible but you can be harder if you like,” charles mumbled, his eyes closed while he enjoyed the feeling of your touch. 

“oh, it’s gonna be hard, mr. leclerc — please be patient.” 

you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh into your shoulder — every time you played a character, you struggled to keep it together but eventually the insecurity of it all slowly dissipated as you focused back in. 

you thumbed the hem of his fireproof top and dragged it gently up his back, exposing the tanned skin that beautifully complimented the black fabric, all taut and soft and sprinkled with freckles. each muscle danced under your fingertips as you carefully traced the marks you’d left the night before — the remnants of your reunion making every nerve in your body tingle from the memory. the frenzied fingernail tracks were red, but fading and you could tell charles liked the feeling of your cool palms grazing them by the soft, nearly inaudible moan that slipped from his pursed lips.

“feel good?” you asked, smirking to yourself.

“amazing.” he practically groaned in response. 

“i’ll get you to turn over now so we can shift focus to your front.”

it didn't take long for charles to scurry up and flip over onto his back. he looked like a kid entering a candy store, all wired and wide eyed from what was on offer, and the promise of a sweet treat at the end. you rubbed your hands together and pushed his shirt up a little further before working your hands across his tight abdomen and over his chest, spending a little extra time on the perked nipples that always got his engine revving. to balance out the moans of pleasure, you ghosted your fingertips down his ribs, causing a high pitched giggle to erupt from the man below, immediately cutting the tension bubbling up.

“very ticklish there, ma’am — go lower please…” 

“oh, do you feel tight down here?” you asked innocently while unzipping his suit a little further down his hips.

“very tight - bit lower than that… lower… lower,” charles’ voice grew quieter the closer you got to where he ached until your hand gently grasped his hard cock, “ah, yes - right there,” he sighed. 

you stroked him through the black fireproof trousers, the fabric bunching as your hand worked him over, “ah, i see… very stiff in this area — try to relax for me, charles.” 

the sound of his name falling sultrily from your mouth as you worked him in your hand had him moaning into his arm that had instinctively come up to cover his mouth. the walls of his drivers room were thin, so thin that you’d been told more than once to keep it down. it never stopped you — in fact, maybe it even encouraged the exhibitionist streak you two had. 

through the soft moans, charles eventually grasped consciousness and came up for air - he loved watching you get him off, almost as much as he enjoyed returning the favour. everything about you set him alight — your eyes, your voice and the way you studied every little twitch on his face while you made him feel good.

slowing slightly, you pensively looked down at your hand and tutted, “i think i may need to use some kind of lubrication to really get these stiff knots out…” 

charles eagerly nodded, “do whatever you need to do.”

“as long as you’re sure…” you stated cautiously, peeling down his fireproofs and underwear in one foul swoop, “is it okay if i use my mouth? i think it could really help.” 

a gutteral moan vibrated in charles’ throat as his head lulled back in disbelief, “fuck… i mean, yes- yes, yes, yes, yes.” 

it never took long to have him exactly where you wanted him — you always started with a tiny kitten lick to his tip, your tongue would travel down to the base and back up before taking him fully in your warm mouth. before too long, he was sitting upright and pulsating down the back of your throat with his fingers loosely grasping the back of your head for dear life, needing something, anything to hold onto while you had him seeing stars. his other hand was pressed so hard to his mouth that when you stood up and wiped your lips, you could see a red hand print left in its wake. 

“are you feeling looser now, mr. leclerc?” you teased and massaged his shoulders once more with a smirk lining your swollen lips. 

“oh my god stop or you’ll make me hard again,” charles groaned and pulled you into a passionate kiss, “you will be the death of me eventually, sweet girl.”

a/n— please don't ask me to define "tiny" because this is over 1k words lol i got carried away because i haven't written for charles in a loooong time and these two requests were way too good not to combine! i have no chill. shop the sale event here !!

[bookwormjust]

Child Curiosity (established relationship with Azriel, Nyx questioning)

The Inner Circle reunited as almost every week for their famous dinner, wasn't prepared for a little curious Illyrian boy Fae, who this night decided to ask questions and have what he wanted. Because who would said no to the little boy, big blue ethereal eyes blinking at you, red little puffy cheeks, little freckle on his baby skin, no one can ignore that and only can indulge the little boy curiosity with care and attention.

Our Nyx, ever persistent in his childlike curiosity, wriggled down from Rhysand’s lap and padded over to you, his little feet barely making a sound against the floor. Without hesitation, he climbed up into your lap, nestling against you with the innocent comfort of a child who adored you. You instinctively wrapped your arms around him, holding him close as he gazed up at you with wide, hopeful eyes.

“Can you give me a cousin?” Nyx asked, his voice soft and earnest, as if you had the power to grant his wish with a mere word. “Mama said babies come from females. So... can you make me a cousin soon, Auntie?”

The room fell into an amused silence again, but this time there was a different kind of weight to it—a tender, loving one. The quiet snickers and glances from the Inner Circle faded as they watched the interaction with fondness, understanding the pure innocence of Nyx’s question. Feyre’s eyes shimmered with warmth, and Rhysand had a playful but proud look in his gaze as he watched his son.

You glanced at Azriel, who was already watching you intently. There was a softness in his expression, his usual stoic mask slipping as he witnessed you with Nyx on your lap, looking so natural and loving. Azriel's hazel eyes held a mixture of tenderness and longing, as if the scene before him stirred something deep inside. 

You gently brushed a hand through Nyx’s hair, smiling down at him. “Oh, sweetheart,” you said softly, your voice filled with affection. “It’s not that simple. Babies take time, and your uncle Az and I need to be ready before we can think about giving you a cousin.”

Nyx’s little brows furrowed in confusion. “But why? I’m ready now!” His innocence was almost heart-wrenching, making everyone around the table smile with both amusement and sympathy.

Cassian, unable to resist, leaned back in his chair with a grin. “Looks like you’ve got a tough negotiator there, Az. Good luck explaining that one.”

Azriel chuckled softly, shaking his head as his shadows shifted in response to his relaxed mood. He leaned forward slightly, his gaze focused on both you and Nyx. “It’s not just about being ready, little one,” Azriel explained in his calm, soothing voice. “Your Auntie and I need to make sure everything is just right. We want to make sure any cousin we give you is as loved and cared for as you are.”

Nyx thought about that for a moment, looking between you and Azriel with the same intensity as if you were discussing the most important matter in the world. His small hand rested on your arm, his little fingers gripping onto you as he said, “I’ll take good care of them, I promise. I’ll share my toys and everything.”

At that, the entire table erupted into soft, warm laughter. Even Feyre, who had been watching quietly, smiled wider, brushing a tear from her eye as Rhysand squeezed her hand under the table. 

You couldn’t help but hug Nyx tighter, your heart swelling with the purity of his words. “I know you would, Nyx,” you whispered into his hair. “You’re going to be the best big cousin one day.”

Azriel leaned closer, his hand resting on your knee and his wings slightly flaring out in a protective, almost possessive gesture. “And when the time comes, Nyx, you’ll be the first to know,” Azriel added, his voice low but filled with an unspoken promise. 

Nyx beamed at that, completely content with your and Azriel’s answers. He stayed on your lap for the rest of the dinner, happily chatting with everyone while you shared a knowing smile with Azriel. The warmth of the Inner Circle surrounded you, and in that moment, with Nyx in your arms and Azriel’s hand in yours, you felt that whatever the future held, it would be filled with love, family, and a sense of belonging that went beyond words.

As the dinner went on, the soft smiles exchanged between you and Azriel carried a new kind of understanding—one of patience, love, and the quiet certainty that when the time was right, you would start the next chapter of your lives together.

[lovesickhughes]

May i please have a Amore 💌 with the prompt “My little slut to ruin.” thank you gorgeous

a/n: i wasn't sure who you wanted me to write this for, but you can never go wrong with a little quinn action!

18+ under the cut

There was nothing more refreshing than the feeling of cool water of a shower hitting your skin after a day spent out on the lake, letting the sun soak your skin and the fresh water drying your skin.

Dinner was served—stomachs filled— before settling down for the night around the campfire. You had helped clean up the dishes, loading them into the dishwasher machine and slipped your hand under Quinn's shirt from behind, rubbing the warm skin of his back when you let him know you'd be stepping away to shower.

What you didn't expect was to see the bathroom door open through the fogged glass of the shower as you let the faucet wet your hair and body, chilling your skin from the heat of the outdoors. Quinn slipped through, meeting your eyes that squinted as your brows pinched together in confusion.

"What'cha doing, babe?" You asked as you reached for your shampoo that was placed on the shelf within the shower, squeezing out a portion and lathering your head with the product. You scrubbed your head, relaxing into the feeling of your own fingers, while your eyes stayed glued to Quinn's movements.

You watched him as he fumbled with the bottom of his shirt, pulling it over his head to reveal his sun-kissed skin, freckles painted along the landscape of his muscles, and how he stripped completely from his clothes, a small grin painted on his face as he approached the shower you were in.

When Quinn opened the glass door, sneaking in to avoid any excess water escaping, you turned to face his front as he now stood only inches away, your bodies emitting heat that only added to the humidity of the shower.

"Thought I'd join you... help you wash your hair and stuff," Quinn smiled sweetly as his hands fell to your hips, caressing the wet skin, his grip tight.

You hummed in response, turning to reach for your next hair product, not missing the feeling of Quinn's hardening member press into the swell of your ass cheek. You turned your head over your shoulder, smirking and biting the inside of your cheek to only see Quinn's hooded gaze, tilted head and a sly grin stretched across his face as his hands soothed over the expanse of your back.

As you stood, you handed the bottle to Quinn, placing enough product in his hand for him to massage into your scalp, and when his fingers entangled in your hair, massaging with such a light-feathered touch, you couldn't help but groan, leaning your head back to rest against his own.

Quinn worked his fingers through your hair until you needed to rinse, and when you handed Quinn the bottle of soap you used while at the lake house, his eyes darkened, knowing exactly what you were allowing him to do.

"Want to do the honours?" You teased, grinning yourself as you taunted him with the soap.

He pulled you into his body, arms snagging around your waist and pressing you tight against his chest, making sure to notice the feeling of your breasts pressed against his own chest, nipples hard and goosebumps splaying across your skin.

He brought his lips to yours, bringing you into a sweet kiss, but not long before his hands trailed up to your jaw, cupping your face and deepening the kiss, allowing his tongue to slip past your lips sending you into a spiral of bliss.

Pulling away, Quinn opened the bottle of soap and squeezed the liquid out into his hand, scrubbing his hands together to cause bubbles to form.

He started slow, lathering the skin of your chest in the foam, trailing down the lengths of your arms and back up. Dragging his hands slowly to your chest and lower around your breasts, massaging the soap into the skin while your eyes stayed glued to his ever so slow movements.

While his hands lowered to spread the soap across your stomach, you watched Quinn raise his hands to cup your breasts, squeezing them and letting his thumb tease over your sensitive, hardened nipple, his gaze lifting to watch as your mouth fell open and a whimper passed through.

He carefully lowered his hands to your hips, then to your knees, his hand slipping behind to bend your leg and rest it against the ledge of the shower. He cleansed your body, delicately and thoroughly as you watched him in awe. He was so content, focused and determined to ensure the upmost relaxation and pleasure for you.

Your eyes fluttered shut, your hand balancing yourself against his shoulder, fingernails digging into his skin as you bit the inside of your cheek to contain a moan from slipping from your throat.

When Quinn guided you further under the running water to wash away the foaming soap that covered your body, you were aware of Quinn's tight grip on your hips. You knew that grip too well. You knew what it meant and you knew what he wanted when his touch lingered against your skin, leaving a wave of heat to spread through your body.

His hands grazed over the expanse of your body, running water along to rid of the soap, and you found yourself having to steady your balance by reaching your hands to grasp at the wall before you.

Your knees felt weak, like the silence and Quinn's touch were to intensify the heat pooling in your stomach and between your legs, and when Quinn's hands came to cup your breasts, desperately squeezing your flesh and toying with your nipples, your head fell to your chest as you let out a shaky breath.

Quinn's head fell to the crook of your neck, not caring for the water that wet his own hair as he inhaled the scent of your soap, leaving an opened mouth kiss against your skin. His hands rubbed against the skin of your torso, up and down your sides as your heavy breaths filled the room.

When Quinn's hands slipped to your front, his fingers teasing your pussy that was aching for some release from Quinn, you moaned as he pulled away, still trailing kisses along your shoulder blade.

"Quinn, please..." You urged, your hips tilting backwards to press into Quinn's waist, feeling his now fully stiff member that was just as eager to search for a release.

"Want me to make you feel good?" Quinn murmured against your skin, his hands still roaming your body, every so often reaching to brush against your clit.

You nodded your head, leaning back against Quinn's shoulder.

"I need words, baby." He tested, gripping your hips tight, his one hand slipping upward to your breast and then tightening around your neck.

"Please touch me, Quinn." You groan, barely audible as Quinn's lips attached to the side of your neck.

His hand slipped down between your legs, toying with your clit before dipping his middle finger into the pool of arousal between your legs.

"Let me take care of you." He coaxed, his hands now focusing between your legs. His fingers worked diligently against your clit, working patterns that sent sparks of pleasure shooting through your body. You moan as Quinn quickens his pace, edging you and bringing you closer to the brink of climax.

His free hand that held you tight against his chest, lowers to your leg, bending it to rest on the ledge of the shower, allowing more room for Quinn to slip his hand between.

When his movements abruptly stop, your eyes open, turning your head to look at Quinn who was now stroking his member, aligning it with your entrance. And when his eyes met yours, the smirk that pulled across his face only left you shaking your head with a small giggle.

As Quinn pressed into you, stretching your pussy and eliciting a strike of pain followed by instant pleasure, your hand grasped at Quinn's forearm to steady yourself.

Whining and mewling as he continued to stretch and fill you, your head falls with pleasure once he fully reaches the tip of your cervix, bottoming you out and it isn't long before he begins to work against you, thrusting in and out, the veins and curvature of his cock enveloping against your walls.

His pace quickens, the sound of the water splashing against your skin and the slaps of skin hitting one another echo through the shower, followed by the moans and groans from yours and Quinn's throats at the pleasure.

"Fuck, Quinn you feel so good." You whine, eyes squeezing shut as you focus on the tightening knot within your belly.

He grunts in return, bottom lip tucked under his teeth as he focuses on thrusting deep and hard into your pussy, your wetness allowing him to slide in and out of you perfectly.

He adjusts his stance, taking his own leg to rest on the ledge within the shower, and the slightest movement left your body erupting with pleasure.

You let out a loud moan, which only earned Quinn's hand coming to cover your lips as he continued to fuck you.

"Harder, Quinn." You mumbled against his hand that pressed against your mouth. He tilted your head back so that your neck was stretched enough for his eyes to meet yours, his hooded gaze concentrated on fucking you.

"Yeah? Want me to fuck you like the whore you are? So desperate." He said through gritted teeth, his own voice wobbly as he reached his own orgasm. You groan in response, eyes shutting as he quickened his pace, pulling out almost completely before pounding his hips back against yours, moans erupting from your throat in unison.

"Fuck, Y/n. Taking me so well, my little slut to ruin, hey? So drunk on my cock." He praised as he gripped your hips, pulling you back to meet his own thrusts.

You moan in response, too entranced by the feeling of Quinn fucking you like no other. Your knees fell weak, your body only staying up because of Quinn's grip as he pulled you against him and as he continued to thrust into you, you felt the knot within your stomach grow tighter and tighter with each touch of Quinn's tip to your cervix.

"I'm so close," You whimpered, barely audible, lip quivering as you attempted to compose yourself. But much to your own dismay, you failed as Quinn slipped his hand back to your front, toying with your clit and letting your body erupt in euphoria as you came on his cock.

He praised you while continuing to slide his cock against your walls as you squeezed around him— that alone leaving Quinn's orgasm to follow not long after.

As he pulled out, watching his cum drip down your leg, you moan at the feeling of loss, standing up straight and turning to wrap yourself in Quinn's arms.

You peppered kisses against his chest, your hands finding their way to the nape of his neck and playing with the wet strands.

"So good," you hummed against his chest, eyes fluttering shut. Quinn kissed the top of your head before pulling away to meet your gaze. "Thank you." You smiled sweetly, rising onto your toes to connect your lips to his own.

When he pulled away, he still had his known smirk written across his face. "I'm not done taking care of you."

"Is that so? What about the fire?" You asked, thinking back to the original plan for the night before things got carried away.

Quinn only shrugged, "Early night in bed for us."

[loverofoldsadlosers]

SLOW RIDE

(inspired by true events; getting turned on by sexy trucks for sale while browsing…. recommend the song “slow ride” by foghat)

Thinking about classic car collector Joel. (smut)

He’s got years on you, clearly, the tattoos inked onto his flesh have seen more birthdays than you: he has lines around his eyes that crinkle when he smiles, skin freckled and bronzed by decades of sun that have brought him the beauty of countless sunsets and sunrises before you even existed. It makes sense, looking so well preserved in his age, that he would seek out a career dedicated to conserving and restoring the cars he does. One’s rusted and faded and simply, old. What he didn’t expect on the dull morning of posting an advertisement for an equally dull, rusted, frankly hopeless ‘1970 Ford’ was you.

Young, shiny, new — a rare commodity amongst the regular buyers of his collection, and certainly a stand-out amongst the venerable antiques in the store; including Joel himself. You stumbled across his yellowing lawn with the grace of a newborn foal. Tripping slightly over your own feet, making him question why on earth you wore those long, seemingly uncomfortable, laced-up boots. Another relic, he supposed. An inkling of your taste before you had even introduced yourself. A reasoning for you, here, at his garage, a girl chasing a past she never belonged to. “Hello!” you smile, offering a hand toward him and slightly faltering when he hesitates. He stares down at your hand. The smooth expanse of your skin, the polished manicure on your fingers, the light weight of it when he finally meets your outstretched palm with his own; soft, gentle, a direct juxtaposition to the grease under his fingernails and the rough callouses that scratch against your silky flesh. “You here for the ad?” he assumes, scanning a quick glance over your frame once before settling back on your face. “Yes, I am.” His eyebrows slightly pinch together. He’s puzzled. Looking at you, and then your satiny chest, and then your equally as velvet-looking legs, and then back at you. Wondering what the hell you would know about a car like that and staring at you without even hiding his confusion. “That Ford?” You nod, and his expression almost sours. He’s squinting at you, shielding his eyes from the burning afternoon sun and giving you a brazen look-over once again; as if he missed something in his previous examination, a physical sign to dismiss his notion that you had no business here at all. Not buying a car older than the both of you, not on an old man’s front lawn, and certainly not dressed like that. In small, honestly tiny denim shorts, leather boots that stopped at your knees, and a blouse scantily covering your collarbones from his view. Was this what the kids were wearing nowadays? Let alone to meet some facebook-marketplace-stranger? You weren’t one to be shy. Usually, you were confident, collected, cool. But with Joel - this stranger - staring you down so intensely and so obviously, you were left skittish. Frozen in place, unable to do anything but fidget with the seams of your shorts with jittering hands and wide eyes. “You know a lot about cars? That’s a tough case back there.” Is all he says. Like there hadn’t been an excruciatingly long pause of him outright scrutinizing you, leaving you close to running tail-in-tow. “Well, I drive one, hah.” You try to quip. Laughing a dry, short heave of a laugh and inhaling a shaky breath when his stoic expression doesn’t change in the slightest, no hint of amusement or playfulness. This is a business deal after all, you guess. A serious purchase garners a serious atmosphere. You suppose you’re slightly more nervous than usual not just because of how out-of-your-depths you were, or because this man in front of you was a complete stranger in a location that took you more than an hour to get to, but because you didn’t expect, well, him. Tall enough to slightly tower over you, thick mustache and greying scruff on a sharp jawline, large biceps that bulge in the crossing of his arms as he frowns at you, plush lips with a lit cigarette between them, dark brooding eyes that glare at you.

He was beautiful. Even more-so in the sunlight. Aquiline nose, furrowed brows, sliver of skin peeking from below his unbuttoned flannel, exposing tufts of chest hair to your pleasure. He was so handsome it was intimidating. “You can take a look at it…” he sighs and places a dirty cloth you hadn’t realized he was holding over his broad shoulder, walking toward his garage and lifting the door.

A delicious trail of hair trailing up the expanse of his stomach from the waistband of his weathered jeans. You follow him inside the garage. You didn’t know a lot about cars. You knew barely enough to drive one. But you knew that rust was not ideal, and that’s what the ute in front of you was entirely soiled by. Hard, corrosive rust, eating away at the beautiful cherry-red exoskeleton. “You haven’t wanted to fix her up a bit?” you ask, trying to carefully not give away that you had done more than just read the ad he had posted (you had read over his entire facebook page, and then his brothers, and then almost the entire Miller family.) You had seen his previous restorations, and they were nothing short of flawless. “No time.” You knew this too. Joel was opening a brother-owned-partnership, Miller Contracting. “Ah.” “So what’d you think?” A deep, southern drawl. Smooth like the purr of an engine, syrupy, husky, manly. “Um…” “You got skill to fix her up?” “Well…” “She ain’t gonna be easy like that Honda you’ve got parked out there.” You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth and pout. Underestimating just how much proficiency you would need to actually entirely restore a car. “Does she start?” “You read the ad at all?” You sigh in slight defeat and his strong, capable hand you had admired earlier comes up to pinch the bridge of his nose, sighing with you in something closer to an annoyed grunt.

“I could… I can fix her up for you—“ your eyes brighten immediately, pivoting your entire body toward him and getting close enough to him he’s sure you are about to hug him; the fifty-five-year-old stranger. “It would have to cost you, obviously.” Oh. Right. “How…how much?” Of course. It would cost a lot. That’s why you had come here in the first place, allured by the affordable price tag only to be shocked when the price matched the product. “Ain’t gonna be cheap.” For the first time since you had greeted him outside, you peer up at him; meeting his scowl with your wide-eyed gaze. Inadvertently, you flutter your lashes and slightly touch the side of his boot with your own, and his eyebrow lifts. Were you…? “And it’s not…bargain-able?” What were you doing? “Christ, what’d you think this is, kid?” You blink. Still looking at him with wide-eyes that went larger in the second. “I-“ “This ain’t how things work around here.” He gives you that same look from earlier, studying you with a downward tilt of his eyes and you were mortified. “Um…I’m sorry, I just—“ He stares at you. At your coquette bite of your lip, at your smooth skin, at your doe eyes and deer-in-headlights expression, and he sighs Low, and disappointed. Cutting you off before you could finish your apology, shaking his head as if he has no other choice, but to say: “Get on your knees.”

What?

“What?” “Well, I ain’t gonna do it for free, now am I?” You stare back at his enigmatic expression and catch a glimpse of something you missed before; the corner of his mouth lifted in a sleazy smirk. You blink.

A deer in the headlights. Now, he’s fully grinning, cigarette long forgotten beneath the crushing sole of his boot. “Well?” You should probably leave. You should probably run into your own perfectly working car and drive off, far from this secluded house and gallery of mouth-watering cars you would never have the chance of owning. Flee from the man in front of you, smirking dangerously and built: broad shoulders and a muscled back you see rippling beneath his worn flannel.

You drop to your knees, and he laughs. “You do this a lot?” you shake your head and quickly work on his large leather belt, fumbling with the clasp and trying to unbuckle it fast as if you didn’t move onto your knees yourself. “Show me how much you want that car and maybe I’ll do somethin’ bout it.” You peer back up at him and his smirk has only widened, staring down at you with what you now recognize as him ogling you; his eyes moving toward your eyes, to your lips, to your chest. And then, he pulls himself out. You gasp. He’s huge. Throbbing, curved just-so, thick in his hand and you gulp. “Well?” You replace his grip with yours, wrapping your shaking hand around him and feeling the weight of it in your palm. Hot, and heavy, and huge. You bring another hand to meet the gap and start moving, waiting for him to say something as he just stares. “You think that’s all I want from you?” You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth and he grunts a low heady sound when your hand grazes his tip. “C’mon,” he says lowly. “Give him a little kiss.” You bring him to your lips, your shaking hands jittering him against you as you suckle slightly, tasting the salty taste of him and he groans, his hands flying to clutch tightly at your hair. “C’mon baby, give daddy a bit more than that.” Shit. You tense your thighs together momentarily and open your mouth further, the stretch burning as you try to fit more of his girth into your mouth. You try to breathe through your nose, but he’s just too big, sending you gagging with barely half of him in your mouth and he just pushes your head down further, until you’re pressed against the salt-and-pepper trail of hair on his abdomen. “Fuck,” he growls, when you swallow. Trying to contain some of the spit that dribbles down your chin as you whine, attempting to tell him that it’s too much. But then you look up. He’s gazing down at you with beads of sweat rolling down the thick of his neck, mouth slightly a-jar and eyebrows pinched. When your eyes meet his, his expression morphs back into that wicked smirk; tugging at your hair to pull you almost off him before thrusting back into your mouth. You gag in surprise, and he laughs again. A deep, sadistic noise, cut off by his own gravelly moan. “You’re fucking nasty.” He thrusts impossibly deeper down your throat, sending you spluttering around him and you swear he just gets harder, gets bigger. When he finally pulls you off, allowing you a gift of air that you gasp loudly, he slaps the length of him against your face; smearing your spit around your cheeks with another low laugh. “This how you always get your way? Get on your knees like a slut?” You go to retaliate - wanting to whine a ‘no’, reiterate to him that you’ve never done something like this, you’d never been depraved enough to get on your knees for a stranger, let alone one old enough to be your father. But then, he just brings himself back to your mouth, grunting an “open up” before shoving his length down your throat once again. But this time, you move down the length of him unprompted, his hand only tangled in your hair to hold you there, but doing it at your own volition. Dragging your tongue down the underside of him and rubbing your thighs together when he moans, loud and raspy. “Fuckin’ eager, huh?” he slaps the side of your face sharply, and you can’t help but moan with him. You can hear the obscenity of it all echoing through his garage. It’s wet, loud, messy, and you grasp at his thighs for leverage until he pulls you off entirely; looking at you with a heaving chest and furrowed brows. You chase him with your mouth again, but he just smirks at you, and then hisses:

“Get on your hands and knees.”

A/N: hello i have never wrote full smut before …. hope it was okay i can’t even proofread it 😣😣

[pandapetals]

Freckles

Logan kisses your freckles.

logan howlett x fem!reader - pure fluff, logan kisses reader’s freckles, reader is insecure about freckles, think that’s it…

a/n: This is very self indulgent…i have freckles…like a fucking lot so this is just something i needed because i was on my period.

You sat perched on the windowsill, knees tucked beneath you, the fading sunlight painting soft golden streaks across your skin. The amber glow caught every curve and hollow, bathing you in a kind of light that Logan swore was reserved for celestial beings. But you weren’t paying attention to that; your gaze was fixed on the horizon, where the sky blushed in shades of peach and lavender.

Logan sat at the edge of the windowsill, one booted foot braced against the floor, the other swinging idly. He watched you—had been watching you for a while. His expression was a curious mix of softness and intensity, his lips pulled into that familiar smirk that always made your stomach flutter.

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, catching the look. “What?” you asked, your voice tinged with suspicion but softened by the faint blush already blooming across your cheeks.

Logan shook his head and leaned forward, resting his forearm on his knee. His rough fingers toyed absently with the seam of his jeans. “Nothin’, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice low and warm. “Just… lookin’ at you.”

You huffed a quiet laugh, turning your head fully to face him. “Well, stop it. You’re making it weird.”

“Can’t help it,” he said, shrugging one shoulder. His eyes traveled across your face, lingering on the delicate constellation of freckles scattered over your nose and cheeks, then down to where they dusted your collarbones and arms like splashes of sun. He tilted his head, the corner of his mouth quirking up into something softer. “You ever notice how the sun loves you?”

You blinked at him, startled by the sudden poetic shift in his tone. “The sun… loves me?”

“Yeah,” he said simply, leaning back slightly to get a better view of you. “It paints you gold every time it touches you like it’s tryin’ to show the world just how damn gorgeous you are.” His voice was quieter now, but it held an edge of conviction that made your stomach twist.

You rolled your eyes and gave him a dry laugh, trying to play it off. “Oh, please. The freckles…are ugly. People have told me my whole life how they make me look like I’ve been splattered with mud or something.”

Logan’s brows drew together, and his smirk faded into something sterner, almost disbelieving. “Mud?” he repeated, like the word itself offended him. “Sweetheart, whoever told you that’s a damn fool. Freckles are… hell, they’re like a map of all the places the universe kissed you.”

You stared at him, your mouth parting slightly. For once, you had no clever retort. He grinned at your silence, the look in his eyes turning playful but still achingly tender.

“I’m serious,” he added, leaning closer. His hand reached out, rough fingertips brushing along your forearm, tracing a patch of freckles there like he was committing their placement to memory. “And if you can’t see it yet, well…” He met your gaze, his grin tilting into something mischievous. “Guess I’ll just have to kiss every single one of ‘em till you believe me.”

You blinked at him, the weight of his words sinking in just a second too late. “You wouldn’t—”

Your protest was cut off by the gentle press of his lips against your cheek, right beside your nose where the freckles were darkest. You froze, heat rushing to your face as he pulled back just enough to meet your wide-eyed stare. He grinned, boyish and smug, then leaned in again, this time brushing a kiss to the bridge of your nose.

“Logan,” you murmured, half-laughing, half-protesting, though your heart was racing in a way that betrayed your words.

“Shh, gorgeous,” he said, his lips quirking against your skin as he kissed the corner of your jaw, then another freckle just beneath your ear. “Told you. Every. Single. One.”

Your laughter bubbled up despite yourself, a sweet sound that only encouraged him. He took his time, pressing soft, reverent kisses to your freckles like they were precious things that deserved to be worshipped.

You tried to protest again, your lips parting to say anything, but the words faltered before they could form. Logan’s lips pressed a soft, lingering kiss just below your jaw, his breath warm against your skin. Slowly, like a tide pulling back from the shore, the tension in your body began to melt away, leaving you pliant and helpless against the quiet reverence of his touch.

“Told you I’m not stoppin’ till I’ve kissed ‘em all. You’ll just have to sit there and take it,” he whispered, his voice low and tender as his lips trailed to the curve of your neck, brushing against another freckle as if it were his life’s purpose.

You tried to scoff, tried to summon some shred of your usual wit, but all that came out was a soft laugh. Your hand drifted to his shoulder, not to push him away but to anchor yourself against the dizzying wave of emotion threatening to pull you under. “You’re ridiculous,” you muttered, though it sounded more like a fond confession than a complaint.

“Maybe,” he admitted with a crooked grin, his lips curving against your collarbone. “But you’re the one who’s worth it.”

His words made your chest tighten in that sweet, aching way that left you feeling like your heart was too big for your ribcage. You could barely breathe as he continued his slow pilgrimage across your skin, his kisses impossibly gentle.

“Okay, okay,” you said finally, your voice trembling with laughter as your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt. “I believe you. The freckles are… beautiful, or whatever. You win.”

Logan pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, one brow arching in a way that was both smug and impossibly charming. “Or whatever?” he repeated, clearly unimpressed with your halfhearted concession.

You rolled your eyes, but the grin tugging at your lips betrayed you. “Fine. They’re beautiful. I’m beautiful. Happy now?”

He studied you for a moment, his hazel eyes warm and searching, and for a second you thought he might finally relent. But then, just as quickly, that mischievous glint returned to his gaze. “Not yet,” he said, his voice rich with affection as he leaned back in. “I’ve still got a few more to go.”

Before you could protest, his lips were on your shoulder, kissing the freckles scattered there, one after another, slow and deliberate. His hands, warm and calloused, skimmed along your arms as if the intensity of what he was doing wasn’t already enough to make your head spin.

“You don’t have to keep going,” you said softly, though your body betrayed you by leaning into him, the warmth of his presence chasing away every doubt that had ever lingered in your mind about the way you looked.

“Yeah, I do,” Logan replied, his voice rough but filled with a tenderness that made your throat tighten. He shifted slightly, his lips finding a patch of freckles near your shoulder blade. “Been wantin’ to do this for a long time, darlin’. You just gave me an excuse.”

Your laugh came out shaky, almost disbelieving. “You’re unbelievable.”

“That I am,” he said with a low chuckle, his lips curving against your skin. “But so are you. And if I’ve gotta kiss every last freckle to make you see that, well…” His lips brushed along your arm now, following the path of freckles that led to your wrist. “Guess I’m not stoppin’ anytime soon.”

You felt your cheeks heat again, but this time you didn’t try to fight it. Instead, you let your eyes drift closed, letting his love wash over you. It wasn’t just the way he kissed you, slow and patient, or the way his touch felt like home—it was the way he saw you. All of you. Every little thing you’d ever hated about yourself, he adored like it was some kind of treasure.

“Logan,” you whispered, your voice catching on the weight of everything you wanted to say but couldn’t.

“I know, darlin’,” he murmured against your wrist, pressing one last kiss to the freckles scattered there before lifting his head to meet your gaze. His grin was soft now, edged with something deeper. “But I ain’t done yet.”

Before you could argue, his lips found yours, stealing the last of your protests and replacing them with a warmth that spread through your entire body, from the freckles on your skin to the deepest corners of your soul.

[lonelysheepling]

Recently read @queenofthequillandink ’s DPxDC crossover fic Unearthed, Reborn

I got inspired to draw character sheets for Danny, Sam, Jason, and Jazz’s vigilante personas. Here’s a link to the author’s drawings of their outfits (these were a vital reference for me when doing this so thank you so much for sharing them Quill) More commentary (like 7+ paragraphs plus 2 images) about this project and the designs below the “keep reading” line.

None of these thoughts I have for each character are in order, but I have a lot of commentary for these since this project was a lot more conceptual than my normal work. I also just like talking about my art/design process. If you ever find yourself wondering at some point why an element from the original design wasn’t included, the answer is that the removal was completely intentional and part of my grandmaster vision for this work and wasn’t because I just forgot about it entirely during the design process.

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Aconite (Sam)

This was the first one I sketched out, I wasn’t even sure at the time if I was going to fully commit to drawing all of them. I thought that Sam was gonna be the hardest since her description was way longer than the others, but then bird boy beat her out. I took a lot of creative liberties with her design, the bag was added bc I couldn’t figure out how to add pockets to the skirt. I was trying to avoid a joker color scheme so I had a lot of ref images that I got by searching like “purple green aesthetic” on Pinterest. The dark purple and dark forest/blueish green won out in the end. I desaturated a lot of my colors for her just to get as far away from the neon Gotham rogue aesthetic. I also added the bdsm harness over the armor to add more punk elements to her design, I know that in real life that would be very uncomfortable to wear over scalemail armor but sometimes we take creative liberties when they look sick as fuck. Also, I didn’t realize until I went to look for a reference for aconite flowers that aconite is wolfsbane! That was neat to learn! Also, the font I used for Aconite is called “zai Art School Calendar 1931”, I’ve used this a few times for other projects, it’s one of my favorite fonts. The ‘zai’ fonts the creator has are all very good.

Shade (Danny)

There wasn't much to add to this page. His outfit is pretty simple (besides the patterning). I wasn’t sure how to pull of an optical illusion pattern but I was reminded how I sometimes get an eyestrain induced headache when looking at someone wearing a patterned shirt with really thin stripes so I just leaned into the idea of a small/detailed hard lined pattern. I originally made 5 separate patterns for him and then turned them into stamp brushes in procreate. I only ended up using three of them, the one on the chest, the one on the legs, and the one on his hand. But, I imagine the patterns fade and shift when he moves, sort of like a lenticular print. I gave him constellation freckles and stylized the hair’s fade into white. The hair was inspired by how time-woods draws Martin Blackwood’s hair (linked: time-woods’s fanart of Martin Blackwood). Also put way too much effort into the teeth on the mask. I just like the chunky teeth design. Oh yeah and the font I used for him is called “Typewriter_Condensed_Demi”

Erinys (Jason)

Repeatedly ran into the issue of not having enough canvas space bc of my fervent need to thoroughly document and plan out how the wings worked. I also reversed the colors for the bodysuit & armor so the under layer was black while the armor plates were red. I only realized afterwards that I may have been inspired by the red centipedes in Rain World (linked: gif of the red centipede, don’t click the link if you’re unsettled/afraid of bugs/insects), artists subconsciously draw inspiration from other artists all the time though so I’m not like upset about it. I stand by it because it looks sick as hell. Also leaned into the magpie theming for the wings. I think the vigilante form was supposed to be reverse magpie coloring? I can’t remember, but I stuck with normal magpie coloring. The anatomy of how the wings connected to the collarbone was inspired by JayEaton’s Magpie Bridge Project. Reference image link. Link to the article the image is from. I didn’t draw the wing armor because I couldn’t figure out how to would work with the wing anatomy and I ran out of canvas space. Finally, the font used for him is “DIN Condensed” this is a default font, I would’ve used something more punk but I needed the text to be legible.

Insight (Jazz)

I did Jazz after I’d already finished the initial trio, so I had to switch to a new canvas for her bc I’d hit the layer limit multiple times on the previous one. I really do love doing that spiked under-eyelash thing with characters. Don’t know when that started. Anyway, I added the shoulder pads to her outfit to help break up the empty space. The golden eyes were a nice accent color since her design is very overwhelmingly green. Honestly the braid hairstyle and gold eyes really do obscure her identity, multiple times when drawing her I was worried that she didn’t really resemble Jazz enough. There wasn’t a drawing from the author for her so I only had the text description to go off of. I just realized that she sort of reminds me of a forest ranger and I don’t know what to do with that realization. I copy/pasted my drawing of her eyes when gold and recolored them to match her normal eye color. There were two layers for that, a hue shift and a hard light layer to emphasize the shadows.

Here’s what it looks like without the hue shift: 

It looks really cool and I’m 100% that color combo in another drawing down the line. Oh yeah and the font used for this sheet was “Euphemia UCAS”. It comes with Apple’s operating system, I use it as a neutral default text most of the time bc it’s nicer than helvetica but not overly fancy like Times New Roman—and why am I talking about fonts. ——————————————————————— Anyway, this project was very fun to work on. The alt text for this was its own endeavor, hope the folks using screen-readers don’t mind 4-5 paragraphs of description text. Also, I cannot remember for the life of me if Dani got a costume description, but if she does I’ll make sure to update this image set with a sheet for her. And to the author, QueenOfTheQuill, if you’re reading this message that I’ve left at the very bottom of this post below a read more line, thank you for the fic. It’s very good and I’m glad I caught it during my slow decent into DPxDC brainrot. I love the interactions between Jason and Tim, it’s nice seeing a revived Jason that’s not bogged down by pit rage. They definitely seem like they could’ve been good friends if not for the unfortunate circumstances that led them to meet in canon. Also, I’m sure Jazz will love interacting with Batman and Nightwing. So much psychological & childhood trauma to unpack with them. Feel free to use/share these images if you so desire and thanks again for your work.