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I’m to punch your writing bad vibes so get your butt ready.
To be slightly personal, your writing has been one of my inspirations for a while now. If I had to describe your style, it doesn’t dip into overly flowery purple prose that makes it difficult to tell what is going on, but it's meaty enough to put me into a character’s shoes and really give me a sense for the emotions they feel and why they feel that way. Little details like usage of punctuation, bolds, italics, caps, etc. truly sell your muses as their own person, complete with distinct voices. These little things may go unnoticed, but to me, It’s the little things like these that really show how much care and effort you put into your writing.
And generally, it really gives me motivation to sit down and write, whether it’s for a reply or something personal.
Your writing is very satisfying to read, and I know I’ve said it multiple times before, but it has truly opened my eyes to characters I would have normally been apprehensive or understood little about if not for you. There’s something about how you write P5 related content that makes me wish you were in charge of the game. You really hit all the things I enjoy about the game and seamlessly incorporate it to your writing, as well as improve its shortcomings.
(To be slightly personal again, your enthusiasm for this game, through IC content or OOC posts, is one of the reasons why I’ve been able to slowly come up with ideas on how to slap my P4 muses into P5, but more importantly, enjoy the game for what it is. Without you, I have no doubts that it would have taken me much longer to appreciate it.)
Of course, your writing achieving this effect would not be possible without your understanding of the game, its themes and its characters. Not just P5, mind you. P4, too. Despite me knowing the events of the game almost by heart, you always bring up something fresh about it that makes me view it in a new light and keep the P4 era going in my heart, and by P4 era, I mostly mean Naoto.
I know you’ll make me fall in love with P3 all over again soon, so I’m looking forward to that :^)
There is a lot more for me to say, you being a cherished friend is one of them, and also that you are a horrible little gremlin for encouraging my illness known as Naoto Disease, just to name a few things, but that’s for a later date, since I don’t want to make this ask stretch on for miles.
PS remember that I won’t stop loving you dani-lion xoxo
((You are a damn good, genuine friend, Liz. I needed to hear this.))
#out of cards#mun stuff#chibitantei#long post#((....I really have nothing I can say to this#there have been times recently where I get too into my head about my blogs here and whether or not my writing has been bland or boring#and I let it get to me...which then kills my motivation to write anything#whether it's long form or something short#I don't feel like I'm portraying their voice the way they want me to or I'm doing a horrible job characterizing them#it's an internal struggle because then I have my logical side start fighting this emotional side#I know it's just me letting my thoughts get to me but man...it tires me out when I'm fighting with myself#this is a hobby and it's supposed to be fun; that's what I remember at the end of it all#I think I just let my perfectionist side get to me sometimes because there's a lot of amazing writers here#and I feel like I have to keep up with them in order to be seen as a good writer#including you Liz#your writing style and characterization have been an inspiration to me as well; from the time I first delved into Persona RPC#I needed this...I really needed to hear this so thank you so much for punching the bad vibes and negativity#I know I put this all in tags but...thanks to anyone who happens to read all of these#we'll be back to the regularly scheduled shenanigans and fluff and angsty-riddled threads#but again thank you thank you THANK YOU Liz; you know I love you so so much as my friend and the friendship we have is so important to me#I won't let these writing bad vibes stick around <3))
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Paring(s): Alpha!Dean Winchester x F!Omega!Reader
Summary: When Dean is forced to mark Y/N in order to not blow their cover on a case, it leads him to reveal a secret that he's been keeping since they met.
Square(s) Filled: biting for @anyfandomkinkbingo
Tags: 18+, true mates, smut, p in v, marking, a/b/o if that wasn't already obvious lmao, knotting
Word Count: 3.7k
A/N: Helloooo, it's been a minute. If I'm being honest, I have about 10-15 finished works just sitting in my "ready to post" folder, but posting is always such an ordeal, so they just stay there until I feel like dealing with Tumblr. But, this one I did write over the last two days after I finished reading Bride by Ali Hazelwood, which I loved so much that it made me want to dip my toes into the Omegaverse! That being said, I don't know how much in here is actually in line with A/B/O "rules", but I know I needed to twist some things to fit the story (e.g. in this specific A/B/O fic/universe, claiming marks will fade if they're not true mates). Huge thank you to my A/B/O girlies, @makeadealwithdean and @emoryhemsworth, for reading it over, I love you both to the moon and back! I hope you all enjoy!
You can also read me on Ao3!
DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLIST | SUPERNATURAL MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST
“We get in, find the knife, get out, got it?” Dean asks, looking between Sam in the front seat and Y/N in the back, making sure everyone is on the same page. They both nod once in understanding, before the three of them make their way out of the car, their doors slamming shut simultaneously.
Y/N stares up at the mansion before them, the music loud, the party raging. It’s some charity event thrown by the wealthiest Alpha in the state, and he just happens to have the weapon they need to finish out this hunt. Y/N stumbles a bit, tripping over the cobblestone driveway in her heels, and she catches the sleeve of Dean’s suit to steady herself. He shoots her a glare that tells her to pull it together. They need to blend in.
“Sorry,” she whispers.
“Here,” Dean replies, grabbing her wrist and pulling it through the crook formed by his bent elbow, forcing them to walk arm-in-arm.
“I don’t need –”
“You are an Omega, Y/N. And there are upwards of a hundred Alphas here who can all smell it. So what you need to do is start acting like one. Just because I’m not some asshole Alpha who demands your respect doesn’t mean they aren’t, and we can’t risk drawing attention to ourselves.”
Y/N takes a deep breath and plasters on a fake smile as they move slowly up the driveway. “Anyone who demands my respect just because of some bullshit biological hierarchy doesn’t deserve it,” she grits out.
Dean stops, turning to face her, one of his hands on either side of her biceps. “Do you want to be on this case or not?”
His voice is lower than usual, demanding and gruff. A voice he only uses when he wants to remind her that he is an Alpha, and bullshit biological hierarchy aside, her body is wired to listen to him.
She gulps, and he tries not to focus on the bob in her throat, the pulse in her neck near her gland, the scent of her. The moment he met her he knew who she was, what they were. Are. He’s been taking scent blockers since before he met her, finding it far easier to interact with other Alphas when investigating cases if they couldn’t scent him out, but the moment he met her, he knew he had to start taking rut blockers too. Though, it feels like the longer he’s around her, the more immune he becomes to the pills. Like she’s going to send him into a rut any fucking second, and she has no idea. He’s thought about telling her so many times, but mates come with strings. Strings that aren’t conducive to the life of a hunter.
“Yes,” she answers his question meekly, almost submissively, and he nods to cover the hormones he forces himself to swallow down. Rejecting your biology is not easy, no matter how many pills you take.
“Then I’m going to need you to take my arm, put on a smile, and act like being an Omega is the greatest joy of your life. That means –”
“I know how to be a good little Omega, Dean,” she interrupts, dragging the words ‘good little Omega’ through a sarcastic tone.
He tenses slightly at her words, sarcastic or not. Good little Omega.
“I’m only bad for you,” she continues with a cheeky wink, and fuck, he might explode. Hell, he might take her into the bushes right now and mark her, claim her, before parading her around in front of this entire fucking party with his teeth marks on her neck. He’s rigid, trying to keep himself under control, and she gives him a playful pat on his shoulder. “Lighten up, Alpha,” she teases. “I’ll be a good girl.”
Jesus fucking Christ. He gives her biceps a squeeze that he hopes comes off as reassuring as he’s trying to make it seem, before linking his arm with hers once more and catching up to Sam at the front of the driveway.
The trio is greeted by the owner of the mansion himself, one Jim Myers, who welcomes them in with a smile on his face and a cigar in his hand.
“How Gatsby-esque,” Y/N mutters under her breath, watching as Myers shakes Sam’s hand.
Dean nods in agreement. “You definitely wore the right outfit.”
Y/N blushes as she looks down at her dress; a black, semi body-hugging cocktail dress bedazzled with gold sequins in some sort of art deco pattern. All she’s missing is a cigarette holder and a feather in her hair.
“Only because I read the invitation. Unlike some of us,” she mumbles in reply.
“Watch it, Omega,” Dean grits out, plastering on a smile as soon as Myers comes over to greet him.
“Jim Myers, pleasure,” he says, shaking Dean’s hand.
“Dean. And this is Y/N.”
She keeps the cordial smile on her face as Jim takes her hand and brings it to his lips, kissing it gently before inhaling her scent.
“Pleasure, Miss Y/N,” he says with a feral grin, his eyes darkening with unmistakable lust as he lets her hand fall back to her side.
Dean takes a step forward, unable to stop himself. “Mine,” he practically growls, and Jim takes a step back, throwing his hands up in surrender.
“My apologies. I didn’t see a mark, so I just assumed.”
Dean falters, clearing his throat, suddenly reminded of the reason they’re all here in the first place. “No, that’s alright. It’s my fault for not putting it in a visible place.” His eyes dart over to Y/N’s. “I think I’m gonna fix that.”
She ducks her head but can’t hide the red flush that creeps up into her cheeks, reminding herself that it’s just her biology, and that this is all for show anyway. They’re here to do a job, and sometimes those jobs involve… well, whatever the hell just happened. And clearly, Dean is a better actor than she gives him credit for.
Jim chuckles, clasping his hands together. “Well, you three have fun, the drinks are free, the food is good, and if you,” he points at Sam, “good sir, are in search of an Omega, there are plenty to choose from.”
Sam blushes. “Right.” He nods. “Thanks.”
And with that, Jim disappears into the crowd.
“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Sam says. “You two go. Upstairs, down the hall, third door on the right. If I got the right blueprints.”
“If you got the right blueprints?” Dean asks.
“Just go.” He taps his ear to indicate that he’ll drop in on Dean’s earpiece if anything goes wrong.
Dean sighs, taking Y/N by the hand and leading her up the stairs. He weaves in and out of the crowd, the scents of everyone mixing together, making it impossible to decipher who is what. Y/N’s never been more glad to be on heat suppressors; knowing full well the scents of this many Alphas invading her nostrils would send her body into a major one.
Dean quickly finds the door, and they slip into the room unnoticed, closing the barrier and switching on the light. It’s a bedroom — the master, from the looks of it — and the knife is right in front of them in the middle of the room, across from the foot of the bed. It’s in a glass case, on display, and likely armed with a million alarms, but right in front of them nonetheless.
“Son of a bitch,” Dean mutters, running a hand through his hair as he thinks about what the next move should be.
“We could find something that weighs the same? Lift the glass and replace it super fast?” Y/N offers.
“Unfortunately, I think it’s the glass that’s probably set to trip an alarm. But the fact that you’re applying Indiana Jones to real life scenarios is making me want to —”
He stops himself, realizing what he was about to say. He needs to get himself under control but Y/N in that dress with her smart fucking mouth, with other Alphas eyeing her, he really shouldn’t be here, with her, alone, and —
“Making you want to what?” she asks.
Shit. “Making me want to… make you watch more of them,” he replies, opting to circle the display case, searching it for a way in to distract himself from her.
“Oh, goody. Can’t wait.” She’s as monotone and sarcastic as ever, and every time something smart comes out of her mouth he has to resist the urge to bend her over and fuck her right then.
“Get out of there now,” Sam’s voice comes in on Dean’s earpiece. “Lost track of him for a few seconds, just found him again. He’s making his way upstairs.”
“Shit,” Dean says. “Shit, shit, shit.” He looks around the room frantically. If they go out the door, Myers will without a doubt see them leaving his room. “Myers is coming,” he explains to a confused-looking Y/N.
“Fucking — God dammit.” She looks around too, for a hiding spot, for a weapon, and then she spots herself in the mirror hanging on the wall and an idea comes to her. “Mark me,” she orders.
“What?” Dean snaps, his attention fully on her.
“Get over here and mark me. You told him you were going to make it visible.” She continues before Dean can protest. “Who knows if it’ll even stay, it’s not like we’re mates, right? And if it does, I don’t mind being bound to you for the rest of ever. It’s not like I’m having much luck in the relationship department anyway. But we need that knife, and we’re not going to get it if we don’t –”
“Fuck,” he says under his breath with a quick shake of his head, before he strides across the room and pushes her up against the wall just in time to hear the door click. He inhales her scent, his mouth trailing from the base of her jaw all the way down to her mating gland where it hovers as the door opens all the way. Then he bites down.
Y/N throws her head back, her fingers digging into Dean’s shoulders as his teeth sink into her, and none of it is for show. The pain is euphoric, and her senses heighten, and she suddenly wishes she hadn’t been so stringent on taking her fucking pills, because whatever this feeling is, coursing through her veins, settling in her core, she needs to feel it more. She can’t stand how dulled it is, how it just stays there, simmering underneath the surface. She wants to erupt.
“Mm, fuck, Alpha!” she cries out, no trace of sarcasm in her voice, and Dean’s hands grip her hips tight enough to bruise them.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Jim exclaims. “Got an alert that someone was in here, there’s some very valuable things in here, you see, and I just wanted to make sure —”
Dean pulls away from her neck long enough to shoot him a glare that translates to “get out or I’m going to kill you”, and Jim gets the message, backing out the door and shutting it behind him.
“Fuck,” Dean breathes, letting his forehead fall to Y/N’s shoulder. He shouldn’t be so close to her. He should back away, give himself some space to breathe. But her scent keeps him rooted in place. It’s her usual scent; something like freshly baked sugar cookies and vanilla, sweet and enticing, but there’s something else, something —
“Are you guys okay?” Sam’s voice in his damn ear again.
Dean lifts his head and presses the button on his earpiece to reply. “Fine, Sam. Give us a second.” Then he takes the earpiece out and tosses it over his shoulder, more agitated than he should be at his brother just trying to check in.
“Dean,” she breathes, and she sounds absolutely wrecked. She brings her hands to his cheeks, forcing him to look at her. “Are you okay?”
He nods. Her touch is like fire on his skin. He needs her.
Y/N squeezes her thighs together. She’s never been able to scent Dean before, but he’s never been this close for this long. He’s never marked her, either. Right now his scent is breaking through the suppressants, little by little. It’s bits of cedar and leather and whiskey, and she’s never smelt anything like it, yet it is so familiar somehow. It invades her senses, and if this is what he smells like with suppressants, she’s terrified of what would happen without them.
“Dean… your scent.” She closes her eyes and inhales deeply.
“Fuck, my pills must’ve worn off, I —”
She shakes her head. “It’s dulled but… but it’s there.” Her thighs clench together again, and she needs him back on her skin. “It’s there and it’s so fucking good.”
Dean’s eyes fall to the gland on her neck, and the severity of what he’s done comes crashing into him like a wrecking ball. It’s enough to force him to take a step away from her, panic rising in his chest. “I – fuck. I marked you. I fucking marked you.”
Y/N’s fingers come up to graze the indent on her neck, and she shudders at the touch. “I told you to.”
“No, you don’t understand, Y/N –”
“I know what happens when mates get marked, Dean,” she interrupts matter-of-factly. “I’m sure this’ll fade.”
“It won’t. I – I shouldn’t have done that. Fuck. Fuck!” He turns to the wall next to him, hitting it with the side of his closed fist.
“Dean.” Her touch on his arm is gentle and comforting, but he doesn’t turn to face her. “You need to calm down. It’s really not a big deal, I –”
Dean takes a deep breath, both hands on the wall now as he collects himself. He can’t even bring himself to look at her when he says, “You’re my mate, Y/N.”
She takes a step back, and her fading scent is what makes him finally face her. She’s halfway across the room by the time he does.
“W-what do you mean?”
“You’re my mate, Y/N,” he repeats.
She shakes her head, her hand coming to her neck again, the teeth marks seared into her skin. “N-no. H-how? When? How – how long have you known?”
Dean takes another long, deep breath. He could lose her tonight. She could run and never come back and he wouldn’t blame her. “Since we met.”
“THREE YEARS!?” she roars. “YOU’VE KNOWN FOR THREE FUCKING YEARS!?”
“Y/N, I –”
She stalks toward him, one finger outstretched, one fist clenched by her side. She points at him as she backs him into a wall, and he’s incredibly turned on and incredibly scared at the same time.
“You’ve known that we’re fucking mates for three years, and you didn’t feel as though that was pertinent fucking information to tell me!?”
Dean swallows. “I – it’s – there are… strings with mates. You know that. I didn’t want to ball and chain you. I didn’t want to keep you anywhere you didn’t want to be. And if – fuck – we’re hunters, Y/N. If something had happened to me, and you knew… I didn’t want you to have to live with that. With the pain that comes with losing a true mate.”
Y/N stops half a foot away and drops her accusatory finger. “What did you say?” she whispers.
“True… mates,” Dean breathes.
“We’re…? But… We never – I don’t –”
“With me on my pills, and you on your pills, I think it was enough to… so we just never…”
“But you knew,” she says, closing the gap between them, her hand coming up to caress his cheek. “You knew for so long and you watched me go on dates, had to listen about the… things I did with other Alphas… if I had mated with one of them, you –”
“You deserved to have a choice. Regardless of what I wanted, you deserved to have a choice.”
“My choice could’ve left you depressed and alone and celibate forever, you fucking dumbass.”
He shrugs, and her hand falls to rest over his heart. She stares at it as she continues.
“When you… marked me… I felt… I don’t know what I felt. Nothing’s ever been so intense.”
She looks up at him through her eyelashes, and he smiles softly.
“That’s the bond,” he explains, his large palm coming to rest over the hand on his chest.
“And if we weren’t on… our blockers?”
“If we weren’t on our blockers, there’s no fucking telling how many pups we’d have running around by now.”
Y/N shivers as the thought of being bred settles in her core, and for once she’s not cursing her biology. Dean chuckles faintly at her reaction, dropping his forehead to hers.
“We can practice in the meantime. Until you decide you want off of them.”
She inhales deeply, taking in as much of his scent as she can. “Oh, I –” another deep breath, “I’m getting off of them for sure.”
Dean lets out a borderline animalistic growl, thinking about how many times he’ll get to fuck her through that first heat. “I’m gonna stop taking my pills, too,” he says breathily.
“Yeah?”
“I had to get on rut blockers when you moved into the Bunker because I knew I wouldn’t be able to control myself. But now,” he says, spinning them both around and pinning Y/N against the wall, “now I don’t fuckin’ have to.”
“Dean,” she half gasps, half moans. He kisses the mark on her neck before licking all the way up to her jaw line and pulling back.
“You drive me fuckin’ crazy, Omega.”
She meets his feral gaze with one of her own, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “Prove it.”
And it might be an incredibly stupid thing to say to a horny Alpha, but it’s also Dean. And he’d never hurt her.
“Mm, fuck.” His voice is raspy and wrecked and they haven’t even done anything yet. Before Y/N can process what’s happening, he’s picking her up and throwing her onto the bed. He climbs over her, hovering for a moment, taking in her flushed cheeks, the warmth radiating off of her, her scent. “You’re beautiful,” he states plainly, like it’s the one fact in the world that he knows without a doubt to be true.
Y/N blushes. “Thank you, Alpha.” She says it because she knows what it does to him.
“You’re beautiful, and I’m gonna fuckin’ ruin you.”
A gasp leaves her lips as he pushes her dress up her hips and moves down her body to the foot of the mattress, his fingertips dancing along the hem of her panties before his eyes meet with hers. She gives him a nod, and it’s all the confirmation he needs before pulling them down her legs and tossing them aside.
He watches hungrily as she spreads her thighs, her core damn near dripping with her wetness, and if this is what it’s like when she’s on heat blockers, he can’t even begin to imagine what it’ll look like covered in her slick. His cock grows hard in his slacks at the thought, and he has to step off the bed to take off his pants and boxers before the containment grows painful. He shrugs off his suit jacket and white dress shirt too, and when he’s standing in front of the bed, fully naked, Y/N is propping herself up on her elbows to take him in.
“Holy – fuck,” is all she can get out.
Dean chuckles deeply, one knee coming up onto the mattress as he fists his cock. “Fuck, sweetheart.” He looks her over again, pussy glistening, nipples peaked through her dress. “Fuck, I want you to – would you present for me?”
A smirk spreads across her lips, but she doesn’t say anything before flipping over and assuming the position. Ass up, legs shoulder width apart, chest resting on the mattress.
Dean lets out a low and guttural, “Fuuuuck,” and it’s enough to make her pussy clench around nothing. She feels the mattress dip behind her, and when his cock starts to move through her folds, she almost cums right then and there.
“I know you you wish you weren’t an Omega,” he starts, “but you’re a fuckin’ perfect one, baby.”
She shakes her head, soft whimpers escaping her as he continues to tease her with his dick. “I’m glad I’m an Omega, because I’m yours.”
With that, Dean loses what little self control he has left. He lines himself up with her entrance and sinks into her heat, and she feels so fucking perfect, the way she molds around his cock. The noises leaving her throat spur him on as he thrusts into her, setting a bruising pace. He wraps his hand around her shoulder for leverage, his other gripping her ass.
“Oh my fuck!” she practically screams, and he can feel how close she is, can smell it.
“You’re gonna be a good little Omega and cum for me, aren’t you baby?” he pants, and he couldn’t be thrusting deeper if he tried.
She nods frantically. “Yesyesyes, please, Alpha, I wanna to cum. I wanna — mm, fuck — on your —”
She’s too fucked out to even finish her sentence, and Dean can feel himself about to fall over the edge. “What’s that, sweetheart? Speak up.”
“I wanna cum — oh, God! — on your knot. Fucking fill me up, Dean, please.”
He barely manages another thrust before he buries himself to the hilt, the base of his cock swelling inside her as he pumps her full of his seed.
The feeling of him filling her sends her over the edge, her pussy clenching around his cock, his knot, and she feels so full and fucked and sated.
“Oh my fucking fuuuuck,” he groans, feeling her pulse around him. “Fuck, everyone and this fuckin’ party is gonna be able to smell me inside of you.”
She moans at his words.
“Gonna have me dripping down your thighs ‘til we get back home.” His hand squeezes the globe of her ass before he leans over, getting as close to her ear as he can. “And then I’m gonna fuck you again. And again. And again. Because we got three years to make up for.” He nips at her ear playfully. “And now you’re finally mine.”
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Kinktober 「10:04」 — y.jeonghan
» seventeen menu | jeonghan menu | kinktober masterlist «
�� oni!Jeonghan × fem!Reader wc: 5.3k summary: Speed dating never was Y/N’s thing but lucky for her, she just so happened to meet someone worthwhile. He asked her on a proper date which developed into a relationship. After a regular date night, Jeonghan asks Y/N if he can try something new in the bedroom. genres/themes/au: angst/fluff/smut; supernatural, horror, thriller; non idol au, monster idol au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, mention of alcohol consumption, supernatural and horror themes, mentions of: food/drink consumption, coffee; sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! taglist has been moved to the reblogs join my taglists! taglist for kinktober is CLOSED. Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.
a/n: this one was going to be much different but sometimes, the story writes itself. i don't have much else to say so enjoy this piece for kinktober and hbd to Jeonghan! thank you for reading! the next part is Mingyu so stick around for that! as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.
smut warnings: teratophilia (aka monsterfucking), deepthroating (f receiving), bulge kink, use of pet names (baby, angel, sweetheart, etc), unprotected sex (use protection pls), oral (m receiving), Jeonghan has a huge d!ck, and I think I got all of it but of course, tell me if I missed any. kinks: Bulge kink + deepthroatingdialogue prompt: ❛❛ I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already wet. ❜❜
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Dating in this day and age had always been difficult for you.
When your friend, Voxx, first suggested speed dating, you laughed it off as a ridiculous notion, not wanting to resort to something you deemed so impersonal. Your friend reassured you that it wasn’t that bad and that they had met their partner during a speed date.
“No, I get that,” you said as you leaned back against their couch, a glass of wine in your hand as they sat on the opposite end of the couch. “I didn’t put much stock in meeting someone on a speed date but Michael has been great and I couldn’t imagine being with anyone else.”
You nodded, taking a sip from your glass. “Besides,” Voxx continued after taking a sip of their own glass. “How else do you expect to meet anyone? You never approach anyone at the bar, you hardly speak to anyone outside our friend group except for your coworkers,” they added, giving you a knowing look. You narrowed your eyes before lowering your gaze to your glass.
“You have a point.”
Voxx smirked, taking another sip of wine. “It’s really not that bad and if you do get someone truly awful, you don’t have to worry about being stuck with them for very long,” they explained. “You only get a few minutes, maybe ten at most.” You nodded silently as you turned their words over in your head.
“Come on,” your friend whined. “You never know who you might meet!”
You sighed, looking up from your glass. “Fine,” you said when you saw the pleading look in their eyes. “I will attend but if it ends disastrously, I’m blaming you,” you added, pointing at them before downing the rest of your wine right as the timer on the oven went off, signaling dinner was ready and it was time for more wine.
Voxx promised to sign you up for the event, taking care of everything but sending the questionnaire for you to look over and fill out. You emailed it back to the event coordinator who was beyond excited that you were attending. Your friend told you they often hosted these events and was always this ecstatic.
The night of the event, you raided your closet, settling on a simple cream colored blouse with a small keyhole cut just above the bust. You paired it with a dark brown skirt, nude colored stockings, and a pair of stylish but comfortable heels in case you would be doing a lot of standing or walking. Grabbing your beige long wool coat to brave the elements, you were ready.
It was a Saturday afternoon which is why you chose to dress in the color palette you did. An evening event would have seen you in a much more extravagant cocktail dress and your red bottom heels you saved for special occasions.
You took the train into the city, getting off at the appropriate stop and making your way to the address provided by the coordinator which turned out to be a bookstore and cafe. You entered through the front door, greeting the cashier who then pointed you to the private room in the back. The main room of the coffee shop was rather large with couches, arm chairs, and tables placed throughout the shop.
Every wall that didn’t have a window or doorway had a bookshelf lined with books, all separated by genre and organized by author name. It was very organized and tidy. You walked through the open doorway into another, smaller room with love seats, coffee tables, armchairs with a small end table between them. It was the perfect set up and away from prying eyes.
You saw that you were one of the first participants to show up and caught the eye of the coordinator. You only knew who she was because of the picture your friend had shown you. She walked over, smiling warmly at you as she approached. “You must be Y/N,” she said, holding your hand out. Up close, you noticed she had striking red eyes, pointed fangs, and her nails were unusually long and sharp.
As you took her hand, you felt her skin was cold to the touch and it dawned on you that you were now face to face with a vampire. “Uh,” you said, realizing she was waiting for you to answer. “Yes. I’m Y/N,” you replied. She smiled again. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Lucia,” she said.
You thanked her, forcing a smile as you shook hands. “We’re waiting for the rest of the participants to show up but if you’d like to go grab a coffee and browse the books, feel free. We don’t start for another twenty minutes,” she added, pulling out a pocket watch — because of course she did — to check the time. You thanked her once more, looking past her at the other people in the room.
You noticed nonhuman features, inhuman eye and hair colors but also some that looked entirely ordinary. As you walked out of the room to go up to the counter, you saw a woman sporting yellow eyes with vertical slits and bits of scaly skin peeking out from under her hairline, you realized what you’d signed up for, letting out a small groan of frustration.
You quickly composed yourself as you approached the counter and ordered a simple caramel macchiato, paying and stepping aside to pay. As you waited, you pulled out your phone, shooting a quick text to Voxx, conveying your frustration.
You: YOU SIGNED ME UP FOR A MONSTER LOVERS SPEED DATING EVENT?!
Voxx’s response was instantaneous.
Voxx: I thought you might like to give it a try since your track record with humans hasn’t exactly been that great. You: a heads up would have been nice 😒 Voxx: if I had told you it was a monster lover speed dating event beforehand, would you have still gone? You: …no Voxx: exactly. Now stop texting me, put your phone on silent and enjoy the event! (:
You grumbled to yourself as you did just that, putting your phone on silent and slipping it into your pocket as the barista called out your name, setting your coffee on the counter. With your macchiato in hand, you perused the bookshelves, finding several old novels, settling on grabbing one of your favorites, Carmilla.
With the book in hand, you returned to the back private room, moving to sit in one of the armchairs while you waited for the rest of the participants to arrive. Among the ones you'd already seen there were a couple more newer faces.
You kept count as the room slowly filled until there were a total of 19 bodies not including the hostess. There were 10 humans including yourself and 9 humanoids ranging from demons to reptilians and you were sure there was even the odd werecreature. The numbers were uneven though, which you thought odd unless there was meant to be one person without a match each round.
You saw Lucia look around and check her pocket watch once more before getting up and moving to the front of the room. She cleared her throat before smiling, looking around at the guests.
“Good afternoon,” she greeted. “And welcome to the annual Unconventional Couple's Speed Dating Event.” A light, scattered applause rang throughout the room, soft but noticeable.
“Each year, my partner and I host this event to help humans and non-humans come together and meet in a safe environment without the judgment of others,” Lucia explained in a clear calm voice, her warm smile ever present on her lips.
“My partner, Greg, and I met 9 years ago by sheer coincidence and it was practically love at first sight. We decided after being together for four years that we wanted to help others like us meet and potentially find their match.”
As you sipped your coffee, you listened to Lucia's speech. It wasn't as if you were uninterested in dating a monster, it just wasn't something you'd put much thought into before.
A loud bang rang out, making you jump in your seat along with several others and you turned your head in the direction of the sound to see a tall, and rather attractive, man bent over, nursing his knee. He'd run into one of the end tables by the door upon entering.
He looked up, his paint expression melting instantly when he realized he had all eyes in the room on him. He stood up straight, grimacing as he walked further into the room. “Sorry,” he whispered, moving quickly to take the empty armchair by yours.
Several of the others sent icy glares in his direction before returning their attention back to Lucia who started to speak again, going over the rules of the event. Your attention waned as the man in the armchair next to you shifted in his seat.
“If looks could kill,” he muttered. You threw a glance his way, noticing he was staring past you. His eyes shifted, meeting yours and you knew instantly, he was not a regular man.
He had brown eyes that seemed to glow slightly which bordered on uncanny territory for you. From this close proximity, you could see that he was even more attractive than you previously thought.
He had a medium golden skin tone with reddish brown hair, strands falling into his eyes. From between strands of hair, two small dark brown horns peeked out, the tips rounded into nubs.
He wore a white button down under a caramel colored sweater with dark brown fitted pleated pants and black oxfords. Over the entire ensemble, he wore a light cream colored long coat with brown buttons and a sash that hung untied.
He nodded pointedly past you, bringing you back to reality. You turned, following his gaze to find a pair of icy blue eyes staring at the two of you before turning away to look at Lucia. You turned to look at the man once more. His gaze met yours and he smiled, giving you a wink before he turned his attention to the front of the room.
After explaining the rules, Lucia had ten participants, half the humans and half the nonhumans, sit while the remaining half would be the roaming half. It worked out that all humans sitting would be paired with nonhumans and vice versa.
You were lucky enough to be included in the group that was seated, removing your coat and draping it over your seat as Lucia passed out cards with a list of potential questions to ask. You looked over the card, chuckling to yourself at the logo. You read over the questions, rereading them a few times so you wouldn’t have to keep looking at the card.
Lucia then explained you would have up to ten minutes with your date before the timer went off. You were the second to last in the rotation of human females. The first nonhuman to sit in the armchair next to you was a werewolf named Liam. He was nice enough but he had some rather interesting ideas about his ideal family that you weren’t entirely on board with.
As he got up and moved to the next station, the man from before sat down, smiling at you as he settled back in the chair. “Well, hello again,” he said softly, grinning broadly at you. “Hi,” you said holding back a chuckle as you set your almost empty macchiato down on the table.
“I didn’t get the chance to introduce myself earlier,” he said. “I’m Jeonghan.” You looked up as he held out a hand. You took it, shaking his hand. “Y/N,” you replied. “So uh, tell me Jeonghan,” you started, clearing your throat and glancing at the cards.
“What color would you say best describes your personality?”
Jeonghan’s smile widened as he let out a low laugh. “Color?” he asked. “Maybe a nice deep red. Like a merlot,” he said, smirking at you. “What about you? Any color out there to let me get an idea of who you are?” he asked, tilting his head curiously. “Purple,” you answered quickly.
“Purple? Is that like an eggplant or —”
“No,” you answered, shaking your head. “Like a bright, vibrant, almost neon purple.”
Jeonghan’s eyebrows shot up as he looked you over. “Neon purple?” he asked. “You?” You nodded, holding back a smile. “You look more like a baby pink. Pastels,” he said as he straightened up. You laughed to yourself, nodding as you looked down. “You should see me at night,” you replied.
“Is that an invitation?”
You lifted your head to look at him. His smirk had grown, looking even more mischievous as time went on. You found yourself holding his gaze. His eyes were so beautiful and there was something behind them that drew you in but you couldn’t place it. He was overall mesmerizing.
“We only have like five minutes left,” he said suddenly, drawing you from your trance. “Right, you said, glancing down at the card again. Your mind seemed to go blank whenever he opened his mouth. It was unlike you and an entirely new experience but it was one you were liking.
“What are you most passionate about?” you asked, reading from the card.
“Sex. Next,” Jeonghan answered, making you choke on your spit. He laughed as you picked up your drink and sipped, trying to quell your cough. “I’m kidding,” he added as you managed to subdue your coughing fit. “That was supposed to make you laugh. Not potentially kill you.”
You waved your hand, dismissing his concern. “I’m fine,” you gasped, setting your cup down. “I’m passionate about food,” he said as you regained your composure. “Food?” you asked, looking up at him. He nodded. “I love food. Good food is important to me.”
“Okay,” you said, shifting in your seat to face him properly. “Your friends are coming over for dinner, what are you cooking?” you asked. Jeonghan smiled as he leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand, his elbow resting on the arm of the chair. “What friends?” he joked.
You rolled your eyes. “Fine,” you said, giving in to his teasing. “Do you snore?” Jeonghan asked abruptly,” you looked up at him, alarmed. “What?” you asked. “Do you snore?” he asked again. You stared at him silently for a few minutes before answering. “Only when I’m sick,” you said, looking down at the card once more.
“Do you have any party tricks?”
Your question made Jeonghan laugh loudly. “Take me to dinner first,” he said with a wink. Your cheeks burned as you met his gaze. The line itself was enough to have you flushing but the wink just added an extra amount of cheese to it.
You glanced down once more but Jeonghan leaned forward, grabbing the card out of your hand and sat back as you looked up at him. He crumpled the card in his hand, giving you another mischievous grin. “Ask me something off the top of your head,” he said softly, cocking his head to the right.
Your mind went blank as you stared at him. Being put on the spot like this made you nervous as hell. ‘What could I possibly ask him?’ your mind went reeling as you tried to grasp for something to ask. Jeonghan checked his watch, glancing up at you. He made a soft ticking sound, as if to try and pressure you into asking a random question. One that wasn’t printed on the card.
“I am so sorry,” you said softly. “My mind is completely blank.” Jeonghan chuckled as he set the crumpled up card on the table. “That’s alright,” he said, picking up his coffee and downing the rest of it as the timer went off, signaling that 10 minutes had passed.
You felt your heart sink. You didn’t want the time with him to end. He got up and grabbed his coat before he leaned over as the participants started to move to the next station. “When the next round ends, meet me outside. This is boring as hell and you are most certainly not,” he whispered in your ear before standing up, giving you another wink with a smile before he turned and headed for the last date as your third one sat down.
The third round wasn’t nearly as entertaining or interesting as Jeonghan had been. He was a shapeshifter named Kai and he was nice, much nicer than Liam, but he was also quite awkward. When the round finally ended, you felt relief wash over you.
Lucia stood at the front of the room, calling for everyone’s attention.
“Now that we’re finished, I’d like you to fill out the back of the card I gave you and write down the names of the participants you’d like to meet again,” she said. “And afterwards, if you’ll stick around, we have a few ice breaker games to get to know everyone a bit more.”
You looked around as everyone flipped over their cards and started writing. You grabbed your wrinkled one and picked up the pen before writing down one name only: Jeonghan.
Looking up, you saw Jeonghan get up, walk up to Lucia and slip the card into a small box on a table next to her. You saw him briefly exchange words with her before he turned and started for the door. He met your gaze, sending you a wink before he disappeared out the doorway into the main area.
Following your instincts,” you got up and walked up to Lucia. She smiled as you slipped the card into the box. “Are you going to be staying for the ice breaker games?” she asked, sounding hopeful. You forced a smile, shaking your head. “Sorry,” you replied. “I actually had something come up. Family emergency.” Lucia smiled politely. “Of course,” she replied, nodding understandingly.
“Thank you again.” you added. “This was a very informative experience.” You exited the room, returning your book to the shelf and dropping your used mug off at the counter.
Once you were back outside, you looked up and down the sidewalk, hoping to see Jeonghan standing nearby but you didn’t see him anywhere. You felt your heart sink, wondering if you’d taken too long as you continued to look around.
You walked towards the edge of the sidewalk, looking on the opposite side to see if maybe Jeonghan had crossed over. You were getting more and more dejected as you didn’t see him anywhere. You sighed, hoping that Lucia would at least be able to pair you up as you turned and started down the street towards the bus station.
“There you are,” a voice said from behind you. Turning, you saw Jeonghan walking out of the coffee shop and waited as he jogged lightly to catch up. “Thought you had taken off,” he said as he matched your pace, tucking his hands in his coat pockets. You smiled as you walked along. “I thought the same actually,” you said, making him chuckle.
You walked in silence for a few minutes until he skipped ahead, moving to stand in front of you just as you reached the bus stop. “Alright,” he started. “So, I’m sure you wrote my name down. I wrote yours down and only yours,” he added. “So how about we skip the middle and I take you out tonight?” he asked.
Your heart skipped a beat as a smile spread across your face. “Okay,” you said softly, feeling suddenly shy. Jeonghan snorted. “Well, jeez,” he started jokingly. “Don’t go jumping for joy. Wouldn’t want you to die from excitement.” You laughed, playfully swatting at him. “I’d love to,” you replied.
Jeonghan smiled, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Then let’s not wait for Lucia to do her thing,” he said, unlocking the screen and tapping away. “We can just exchange numbers now.” You quickly pulled your phone out and pulled up a new contact as Jeonghan held out his phone. You exchanged with him, typing in your name and number, adding a purple heart emoji.
When you had your phone back in your hands, you read his contact card. His name had the red ogre emoji next to it with the sunglasses smiley face. You shot him a quick text before pocketing your phone. “So what time were you thinking?” you asked, looking up at him as he checked his phone before slipping it back into his coat pocket.
“How about seven?” he asked. “And if you don’t want me to know where you live, let’s just meet there, yeah?” he asked. You nodded. “Meet where?” you asked. Jeonghan nodded towards your pocket. “I sent you the address. It’s a restaurant I love and I’d like to actually share it with someone.”
You pulled out your phone, looking at the notification. You would look it up later to make sure it was actually a restaurant. You trusted that Lucia would vet all the participants pretty well but you could never be too certain. “So, I’ll see you at seven?” he asked as the bus pulled to the stop.
You pulled out your bus pass as the doors opened, several passengers getting off. “Seven,” you agreed, looking back at him with a smile before getting onto the bus, scanning your pass and taking a seat. You waved at him as he stood on the sidewalk. He waved back, smiling as the bus started to roll forward and soon he was out of view as the bus continued down the street.
You felt your phone buzz in your pocket and fished it out, checking your messages.
Jeonghan👹😎: you’re really pretty (:
You chuckled as you typed a response back.
You: so are you ;)
Jeonghan’s reply was instant.
Jeonghan👹😎: see you at seven, beautiful
One date with Jeonghan turned into two which turned into a third and after a few weeks, you were dating pretty regularly. Lucia had contacted the both of you a few days after the speed dating event to inform you that you had both selected each other and she passed on your contact details but you already had exchanged them.
Your regular dates turned into something romantic and sexual after a couple months and by the third month, you had agreed to be exclusive. You really liked Jeonghan. He was smart, funny, charming, and a little bit annoying but you liked his teasing.
On the surface, he liked to joke around, tease, and play pranks but under that silly exterior was an extremely caring, loving, and passionate person. You learned on the fourth or fifth date that Jeonghan was an oni. You knew from the start that he wasn’t human but that didn’t bother you in the slightest. If anything, it made him much more alluring and added to his appeal.
You’d never truly considered dating any monsters before but now that you had, you were certain you probably wouldn’t ever date human men again. Your past with dating had been turbulent and rocky to say the least but ever since meeting Jeonghan, things had been so much easier. Your relationship with him seemed to come naturally to the both of you.
In the bedroom, things were beyond amazing. Jeonghan was neither pushy or hasty to make you do anything you didn’t want to. Sex with him was as easy as breathing. All you needed to get into the mood was some playful banter, a few light touches, and some whispered dirty words and you were putty in his hands. He was a skilled lover and you were never left unsatisfied.
After a date night out, you returned to your apartment, inviting Jeonghan in for a moment which you knew would turn into more if you played your cards right.
“I’m never ordering that again,” Jeonghan said as you giggled, letting him into your apartment as you stood in the doorway. Once the door was shut, you moved to set your purse on the kitchen counter, fishing out your wallet and phone as Jeonghan walked up behind you. You felt his hands on your waist as he pressed into your backside.
“I like this dress on you,” he murmured, lips brushing against your exposed shoulder. “Yeah?” you asked softly, leaning back against him. He hummed in response, pressing a few kisses to your shoulder before you turned around in his hold, reaching up to comb your fingers through his hair. “I think the only thing that would be better is if you took it off,” he said, leaning in to capture your lips in a soft kiss.
Your fingers curled into his hair, pulling him closer as your lips parted, his tongue slipping into your mouth. You felt his fingers dig into your hips, pulling them flush against his. Pulling back slightly, you smirked as he tried to chase your lips. “Maybe you should take it off,” you whispered, nuzzling his nose. Jeonghan let out a groan, sliding his hand down to cup your ass before moving to pull your thigh up, pressing his clothed crotch into you.
“Bedroom,” he muttered, peppering kisses along your jaw. “Now.”
You did as he demanded, heading for the bedroom with him on your heels. Once inside, you heard the soft click of the door shutting as you turned on the bedside lamps. Jeonghan was on you in an instant, pulling at your dress, kissing your neck, littering your skin with love bites as he guided you towards the bed. “I’d like to try something new tonight,” he whispered between kisses.
His hands unzipped the side of your dress, hands moving up to slide the straps of your dress down your arms and letting the garment fall to the floor at your feet, leaving you in your lingerie and heels. “What’s that?” you asked as you stepped out of your dress, kicking it across the wood floor.
Jeonghan cupped the side of your neck just under your jaw. “Climb onto the bed,” he said softly. You glanced down at your feet. “My heels,” you started. Jeonghan clicked his tongue. “Shit, right. Let me handle that.” he said, kneeling down to quickly remove your shoes one at a time. He tossed them aside, ignoring the clatter they made as they bounced across the wood.
“Now, sit on the bed,” he said, gently nudging you. You followed his instruction, sitting on the edge of the mattress, looking up at him as you waited for further instruction. Jeonghan leaned down, pressing a kiss to your lips and cupping your cheek.
“You know I absolutely love it when you use your mouth,” he started softly. “And I love the way you do it but I’ve really wanted to fuck your mouth for a while now,” he continued. “I’d really like to try it, if you’ll let me.” You nodded, grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand over your face and kissing his palm. “And I promise to reward you,” he added. “Of course,” you answered. “I love trying out new things with you.”
Jeonghan leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. Standing up straight he pulled his tie loose, discarding it on the floor before undoing the buttons of his shirt one by one, keeping his eyes on you. He dropped the shirt to the floor, moving his hands to undo the zipper of his pants.
“Here,” you said, reaching out to grab him by the waistband of his pants.
You made quick work of his pants and underwear, pushing them down his thighs, revealing his already hard and leaking cock. You took him in your hand, opening your lips and taking the head into your mouth. Jeonghan let out a throaty groan, one hand moving to the back of your head.
You moved your head, bobbing and taking more and more of his cock into your mouth. You felt the tip hit the back of your throat as he thrust slightly, making a wet gagging sound. You pulled back, waiting a moment before resuming.
You felt his grip on your head tighten as he pushed you further down. “Just a little more,” he groaned. “I know you can do it, sweetheart.” You obliged him, sinking his cock further into your mouth until you felt the head push into your throat. Jeonghan let out a loud moan, throwing his head back.
“Fuuuuck, baby,” he groaned, swallowing thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly. He let out a shaky breath, lowering his gaze to look down at you. The hand on the back of your head moved up to the top, slightly tilting your head back. More of his cock sank into your throat at this angle.
He let out another strained moan as he felt your throat constrict around his cock. He moved his other hand down to your throat, fingers feeling the bulge of his cock in your throat. “Oh, shit,” he whispered. “That’s so fucking hot.” He wrapped his fingers around your neck, squeezing slightly.
After a moment, he pushed your head back slowly, his cock slipping out of your throat.
Once freed, you pulled back, gasping as air filled your lungs. “You alright, baby?” he asked, gently caressing your cheek. You nodded, coughing slightly. “You okay to keep going?” he asked, his voice sounded full of concern. Again, you nodded. “Yeah,” you said. “M’Okay.”
Regardless, Jeonghan gave you a few moments to recover your breath before letting you continue. “If you need to stop, just tap my thigh, okay?” he asked. You nodded, taking his cock in your hand, you stroked him quickly before taking the head back in your mouth, the weight of his cock heavy against your tongue.
Jeonghan’s hips thrusted forward, burying his cock further into your mouth. You removed your hand, moving your hands to his hips as he set a slow, steady pace. You kept your jaw lax, letting him fuck your mouth at his own pace. Each thrust made that same wet gagging sound at the back of your throat, filling the room with nothing but that sound.
His fingers curled into your hair, tightening his grip on your head as he guided you to move into his thrusts. “Fuck,” he groaned. “M’close.” He slowed to a stop, pulling his cock from your mouth. “Up,” Jeonghan ordered, holding his hand out for you to take. He pulled you up onto your feet before turning you to face the bed, pushing you onto it. He removed his pants quickly before cupping your sex.
“Holy shit,” he groaned. “I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already wet?” he asked. You whined, wiggling your hips. “Don’t tease me, Hannie.” He chuckled, moving to pull your panties down your thighs. “God, look how fucking wet you are. Fucking soaked,” he growled, fingers swiping through your folds before sinking into your cunt. You let out a moan as he slowly curled his fingers.
“Please, Jeonghan,” you whimpered. “Please fuck me.”
You heard him chuckle as he removed his fingers, bringing them to his mouth and cleaning them. “You sure you’re ready for me, angel?” You nodded eagerly. “Please,” you whined. “Please. I can take it.”
Jeonghan chuckled again, grabbing the base of his cock and gliding the tip between your folds, gathering your arousal before pushing the head into your slit, the warmth of your cunt welcoming him as he glided in, unrestricted. Each inch filled your walls, stretching you slowly to accommodate his size. “F-fuck,” you gasped as he bottomed out, tip of his cock kissing your cervix.
“So f-full,” you groaned. Jeonghan gave you a harsh thrust, making you cry out sharply. “You really sure you’re ready, my love?” Jeonghan asked, moving his hands to your hips. You nodded once more. “Yes,” you whined, feeling him retract slowly. “Please just fuck m-me!” you gasped as he snapped his hips forward, filling you in one, sharp thrust.
“Oh I plan to,” Jeonghan said softly. “You might wanna hold on, sweetheart,” he added.
“You’re in for a long night.”
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Hello nani!! I just wanted to say I just read your all of me logan x reader and I love it! Was wondering If you could do logan x reader smut with the song ride by somo (been having it in my head for a while) but if you can't that's fine keep up the awesome work love!!
Ride .
✩ logan ‘wolverine’ howlett x mutant!femreader
♪my body on your body baby, stickin like some glue…♪
✩ you usually don’t sleep with your coworkers, but during this mission….the tension between you two becomes unbearable.
✩ tags: nasty, slutty sex, sex in a car, riding, oral sex, creampie, rough fucking, everything is slutty when it comes to him, jealous logan, you are a teacher at the Xavier school for the gifted, added some plot too, you can control any form of matter, liquid is your fave tho…
✩ note: hello! thanks for the req, anon this song choice 🙂↕️ I’ve got freaky followers! also had xmen/x2 wolverine in mind. song at the bottom of the page!
Charles left you in charge for today, something he does once every two months with his head teachers. He did it so you guys could gain experience and know how to take charge if something ever happened to him. It happens more frequently than you’d think.
Before you, it was Storm and she did an amazing job. Everyone loved her as the school’s professor, there were less accidents within the school and more mutants had come too. Unlike Scott, who was more brutal with his approach, leading to some students leaving the academy. Charles was upset and even though he didn’t show it, everyone knew it.
However, unlike those two, Logan was a little more reckless with his approach. There’s was fight breaking out almost everyday, but those same fights were mended that same day they happened. Plus, tons of students joined just because they heard THE Wolverine was there. He might’ve been a dick most of the time, however he had a heart.
And that’s why you decided to partner up with him for today’s mission. Well, that was partially true. In all honesty you had the biggest crush on him and you wanted to get the opportunity to be with him all day. Hoping to get the chance to jump his bones.
You entered the conference room with a smile, your chunky, patent leather boots echoing against the wooden floors; turning your coworkers attention over to you. Your hair flowed beautifully as you made your way in front of the round tables cleaning your throat while looking at their faces—your eyes lingering on Logan’s a little bit longer, before you spoke.
“Charles left me in charge for this month. For my very first day, i expect great results! In order for great results to happen, we have to put in the effort. I compared the results from the last couple of months. Logan and Storm, the two of you were outstanding. Quantity of students and Quality of missions were in our high range, however with you Scott……we were very low.” You turned your attention over to him, watching his body tense up and earning a chuckle from Logan.
You cleared your throat before continuing, “This isn’t to bash anyone, but to help us grow as a school and as teacher’s. These mutants come from all over to us because we understand them. They want to be comfortable and not reminded of their past lives. So, in order for this all to happen, im giving you all new partners.” There was some whispers as they turned to look at their current partners.
“Storm and Jean, you two are together. Hank and Nightcrawler, Scott and Colossus. Logan?” He pulled out his cigar and connect his eyes with yours.
“You’re with me.”
The two of you walked side to side as you approached the school’s parking lot passing the variety of cars, on the way to your own. “So, what’s this mission about?” He spoke from behind you, his eyes following your hips as you walked, trailing down to your ass and how heavy it looked in those black leather jean’s you were wearing.
“We’re looking for a mutant named Cupid and no he’s not the blonde bitch from Olympus.” You cursed, earning a chuckle from Logan.
Finally reaching your car, Logan was amazed at your taste. Your car was a matte black dodge charger, with lightly tinted windows and matching leather seats. He hopped in the passenger seat while you occupied the driver’s. “Tell me more about this love bastard,” now you were the one to chuckle. God was he hot.
“Cupid’s been causing a lot of issues in city, he currently resides in a small town and the mayor has asked for our help. His powers are based on two emotes everyone has. Love and Hate. He can control a person based on those emotions.” You pulled out of the lot, driving to your mission’s destination.
“Now, we can either do this Charle’s way or my way.” He turned to you, with an eyebrow raise, puffing on his cigar.
“And what way is that?”
“You’ll have to wait and see, baby~”
The car ride was quiet, besides your radio playing and the sound of his breathing while puffed on his cigar. However, Logan took glances at you from here and there. Watching how your eyes would gleam as the sun hit it, how you would bob head to the songs you liked, and those lips….god your lips looked heavenly. He could stare at those all day, wishing he could kiss them forever.
“Logan?” You called out and he snapped out of his days, looking around before looking back at you. “You okay? We’re here.” You raised an eyebrow and he nodded, the two of you stepping out of the car and approaching the apple green house.
You lead the way, while Logan watched your back. Those hazel eyes stuck on your derrière. “I don’t know exactly how he uses his powers, so just be on your game, Lo.” You turned your head slightly, giving him a small smile before turning around to knock on the white door. A few seconds after, a male appeared wearing a ruby red robe and blue boxer’s, pinching his nose as he sniffed.
You turned to look at your partner before back at the mutant. “Are you, Ezekiel?” You asked, a smile on your face while Logan wore his usual resting face. “Depends, are you the cops?” He asked, eyes falling from yours and onto Logan’s before going back to yours. You shook your head and smiled once more.
“Do you mind if we come in? We aren’t going to hurt you, we just wanna talk.” He said nothing, studying both of your faces before turning away; letting you both in. You followed after him, looking around his house—trying to understand him before speaking with him. Logan watched as the kid plopped on his messy couch, pulling out a small trinket and sniffing the contents. He let out an exasperated sigh and locked eyes with Logan.
“Want some?”
“I’m good, bub.” You finally joined them and sat down in the small chair across from him, Logan opting to stand besid you—cigar in the corner of his mouth.
“We’re from the Charles Xavier school for the gifted mutants. We heard about the little trouble you’ve been causing here.” He looked at you and relaxed on the couch, smirking.
“Trouble? I just help those that needed it, isn’t that what you do? I heard about this school….this Xavier guy seems like a quack. Not interested, but if you lose the top, I might be convinced.” You could sense Logan’s mood change and you held your hand out, letting him know that you had this. Guess it’s time to do it your way. Sorry Professor.
You slowly undid the buttons that held your black button up together, freeing some of your cleavage, making both Logan and Ezekiel look at you. You stared at him, smirk etching onto your face while you used your powers on the cocky mutant. He started to choke and gasp for air, causing Logan to look at him and then at you.
“Listen, do you want to die? These people are going to get fed up with you quite soon and when they do, they won’t stop until they hunt you down and have your dumb blonde head on a stick. But why wait for that when I can do it myself?” Your tone was cold and your eyes had darkened, scaring the mutant. His pale face was turning a shade of pink and Logan was getting worried.
“Princess….” He started off, but you held your hand out again. “What do ya say? Want me to kill you? Or will you let us help you and keep you safe?” You released the pressure on his throat, letting Ezekiel catch his breath. He nodded and let out a breathless okay, and you smiled; quickly buttoning your top back up before standing on your two feet.
“Good, see you at the school. Logan, give him the card.” You said leaving the two men in the house. Logan dropped the card onto the dark oak coffee table, before looking at the mutant.
“Dude, she’s crazy!”
“Tell me bout’ it,” He muttered on his way out.
You sat in the passenger seat while Logan drove, looking out the window, in complete silence. There was some obvious tension there and you were trying your best to find out why.
“Logan? Is there something wrong?” You turned and looked at him, eyes dancing across his face. He was silent and then he looked at you, his mouth painted with a scowl.
“Yeah there is.”
“What is it?” He said nothing and you continued to look at him, before he pulled the car over on the side of the road, putting it in park and turning it off—unbuckling his seat belt along with yours.
“Think that was okay? What you pulled back there? Showing him what’s mine?” Your eyes widened and you could feel a throbbing sensation below, you crossed your legs in your seat and kept your face unreadable. Seeing you show off your breasts to the mutant had Logan seething, those were for his eyes only. You were his.
“Did Cupid use his powers on you? You okay.—“ He cut you off and pulled you by your hair, forcing your face towards his and pressing his lips onto yours—which you happily accepted. His lips were so intoxicating and you couldn’t—didn’t want to pull yourself from them. Finally getting what you wanted and when he pulled away, spit trail following, you whimpered; eyes plagued with arousal.
“Logan…” you whispered and he chuckled. “I know princess, I can smell how much you want it.” He patted his lap and you practically hopped out of your seat and into his lap, reconnecting your lips while grinding against his bulge that pressed into your middle.
Both of your hands roamed each other’s bodies, kissing and licking on each other’s sensitive spots, the car steaming up from your actions. Soon, you couldn’t bear the teasing anymore and you slowly pulled your clothes off; your top along with your bra being flung into the passenger seat—while you continued to occupy his lap.
His large hands cupping your breasts, earning a soft moan from you, before he replaced his hands with his mouth; his warm tongue glued onto your sensitive nipples. You couldn’t help your moans, hands tugging on his hair, lower half grinding on his clothed cock.
“Please Lo….neeed you to fuck me,~” You begged, moaning when he put your nipple in between his teeth, teasing it lightly.
“Gotta taste you first. Get that pretty ass in the back, princess.” You happily hopped in your car’s back seat, tugging your jeans off your thighs while he climbed in the back right behind you, pulling the jeans completely off of you—putt them with the rest of your clothes.
He eyed your half naked body, licking his lips while he trailed down from your face to the wet spot that appeared on your dark grey panties. “So wet for me. Never give this pussy up, okay?” He spanked your clothed cunt, making you yelp out and nodded your head; bottom lip between your teeth—watching his every move.
He pulled off his leather jacket, and unbuttoned his pants, pulling them down to his ankles; his muscles practically ripping through his beater. Both set of lips flushed with wetness, ready for what’s to come next and when he connected his mouth with your sopping wet cunt after tearing those panties off ya—your eyes immediately rolled back into your head.
Logan’s own eyes closing after tasting you, savoring how sweet you tasted. He had been thinking about this ever since he met you. He had fantasized about you every night, dreaming about you cumming all over his face. And now here he was, fulfilling his wish.
His tongue lapped up your juices like he was a dog drinking from his bowl, sucking on your throbbing clit; making you let out a series of moans—hands connecting with his hair again. “F-f-fuck….feels soo good, Lo’.” He hummed in response, lips still attached to your cunt while he added two fingers into the mix, pumping in and out of your wetness.
You were a babbling mess, moving your hips up and down; almsot riding his face—orgasm seconds away and you desperately needed to let go. “Gonna cum for me princess? Go ahead, cum all over my face. I need to taste how gushy this cunt can be.”
He was so nasty with his words, you couldn’t help but to let go; cumming all over his face and creaming on his fingers. Logan didn’t stop lapping up your juices or fucking your with his fingers, he kept going—wanting to drain all of you, until you had to beg him to stop. You pulled him up by his hair and smashed your plump lips on his, tasting yourself—moaning while he palmed your still throbbing cunt.
You pulled away and pulled his boxers down by the hem, freeing his cock; his eyes glued to yours as you immediately went to rubbing on his head. His translucent slick melting into your hands while you rubbed and jerked his mushroom tip. You watched his face contort with pleasure, his hips slowly pumping up into your fist.
“Stop teasing me, princess.” He let out a small whimper and you felt a heartbeat shoot through your core after hearing it. Logan watched as you spread your legs across his lap, squatting and angling his dick at your entrance—lowering yourself down and hissing from how he stretched you out. He was so big, pushing your walls past its normal limit. It had been a while, but none of them had ever reached his size.
“So big…” his hand fell on your hip, fingers grasping onto your ass, holding you when you finally lowered down onto him all the way.
“I know baby, but you can take it.” He slapped your ass making a slutty mewl leave your lips. You stayed like that for a moment, cunt clenching and unclenching around him before you started to bounce on him. You gasped as his tip practically kissed your cervix, his dick so deep inside of you.
But, as you continued to move, that threshold of pain vanished and was replaced with pleasure. You happily bounced on his dick, skin clapping with each move you made; his lips ghosting yours as your face was mere inches apart.
“Just like that, princess….shit,” You were so fucking tight and wet, cunt so slippery, creating a sheen of wetness on his cock. The mutant never had anything like this and he wasn’t going to give it up to anybody.
“Showing off those pretty titties to other men? Fuck, i could kill him. Want me to do that?” He grunted, pushing your hips down, making you take him even deeper. You shook your head and gripped onto his muscular shoulders, keeping steady as you bounced.
“N-no…I'm sorry, daddy! Fuck—you’re reaching so deep, Logan!” You were clinging to him so tightly, the man was losing it. He pushed you all the way down, big rough hands gripped your waist, while his tip was pressed right in your cervix—before he scooted halfway off the car seat and pushing your torso closer to his, proceeding to drill your cunt sloppy.
The loud squelching noise combined with your sweet noises was enough fuel for the wild mutant. Your ass jiggling with each movement, rocking the car as you bounced. You were close, so close now and he felt it. Felt how your walls were spasming around his girth and how louder your moans got when he hit that spot over and over. And he was right behind you too.
“Let it go, princess. Cum for daddy~” His voice was deep and sensual, adding to the intense pleasure you were receiving—making it easier for you to cum. You were seeing white as you came; nails digging into his shoulder blades while gushing all over his cock.
And as he continued to split your cunt in half, his own release came down hard and he was pumping milky white ropes inside of you. He growled in your ear, sending shivers down your back and straight to your cunt—earning a stream of clear arousal from it, drenching his cock and the seat beneath him. You had never squirted before and with Logan being the first, had you deeper in love than you were ever before. You were his for the taking.
After cleaning you up and helping you get dressed, Logan left you in the backseat of your car before starting the car up and continuing with the drive to the mansion. He kept his eyes on you in the rear view mirror, watching you as you slept; a smile etched on his face before he placed a cigar into his mouth.
He was in love and he was never going to lose you. You were his best rider after all.
#logan howlett xmen#xmen logan#logan smut#xmen#x2#xmen x2#logan howlett x you#wolverine x you#wolverine x reader#wolverine x mutant reader#wolverine smut#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett smut#logan howlett#xmen wolverine#logan wolverine#deadpool and wolverine#xmen origins#storm
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Hii, are gonna do a part 2 of “doomed” where they get together?
Doomed pt. 3
Tim Bradford x rookie!reader
Warnings/Tags: fluff, hurt, angst, unspoken feelings, Grey raging Word count: 2.197 Authors note: Hello love, thanks for the request! (I'm sorry it's so late!) Not a part 2, but a part 3 for you! Hope you'll like it anyways! Also, this isn't entirely proof read yet!
Enjoy!
Did he even breathe?
Looking at Tim through your peripheral, you knew he thought the same.
Grey was raging on, talking without breathing.
Soon he'd suffocate, you were sure of it. Luna would have a heart attack, when he would die because of you - because you were dumb enough to be caught by him.
It wasn't even your fault, really.
It was Tim's.
At least that's what you told yourself.
"And I will not be the one who will take the brunt when one of you dies, because you were too busy making love eyes to notice a threat!"
Maybe you should have just told him - at least that's what Grey thought to himself, as he yelled at one of his best officers and his rookie.
Who were sleeping with each other.
He mentally flinched, not wanting to think about it too deeply.
"You are responsible for her training!" he continued, pointing at Tim who had his hands at his sides, trying to just get past this.
He had never felt this uncomfortable in his life before - at least there wasn't much that compared to this situation.
"How do you think will others judge when they learn about your relationship? Do you think they will see her ratings fit? Or will they think you rated her better, because you-" he had to stop himself, or else it would have gotten out of hand - though you all knew, what he wanted to say.
Because you are sleeping with her.
Your career would be ruined, if the right people found out. No one would want you to work for them, never fully trusting you.
As the tears welled up in your eyes, you tried your best to suppress them.
Grey was right, and he had every right to be angry.
"This will have consequences!" he continued, finally taking a deep breath, as he tried to calm himself, for the sake of his heart.
His wife would have killed him, if he dared to have a heart attack - especially when she was currently trying to convince him to retire.
Maybe he should have.
"You will be replaced as her TO - that's the least I will have to do. Other than that, this conversation will never, and I mean never, leave this room. If anyone asks why you were replaced as her TO, you tell them that you don't know."
His eyes wandered from Tim to you, his head shaking in disappointment.
Never would he let you forget this day.
"I can't believe that this happened right under my nose and I didn't notice it." he spoke a little quieter, before his voice rose again. "And I would have never expected such behavior from you, of all people, Bradford!"
Tim swallowed, gaze fixed on the table in front of him. He didn't know what to say, guilt making his tongue heavy as lead.
Grey grumbled to himself, sitting down in his chair. He sighed in exhaustion, wiping over his face with his hand.
"I know I'll regret it later." he began, putting his head in his hand with his elbow on the armrest, as he looked up at you.
You two stood straight as sticks, and for a moment Grey had to smirk inwardly.
"Are you in a relationship or do you plan to be in one?" The same moment he voiced his question, he regretted it. His daughter would have probably told him how embarrassing he was.
Did he want to do the talk now, too?
Your eyes widened, looking at Tim in shock. His gaze was fixed somewhere behind Grey, jaw clenched.
It had been a few months now, since you regularly started to sleep with each other. You couldn't deny that you had become attached, having gathered feelings for him.
But did he feel the same?
Biting your cheek, you looked away.
Of course he wouldn't.
"Okay..." Grey mumbled, scratching his chin, as he leaned back in his chair. "I will still tell you what will await you anyway, in case you decide to be in a relationship somewhere in the future."
He shook himself inwardly, one eye twitching, as he tried to stay as professional as possible.
"I hardly advise you to work separate. Like I said, if one of you dies because you aren't focused on the task at hand, the other will pay the consequences. The LAPD doesn't like it, when two of their officers are in a relationship and in the same unit. It's a risk the intern doesn't want to take."
You simply nodded, swallowing against the lump in your throat.
What other choice did you have anyway?
Grey nodded to himself, not happy his evening had been ruined. Luna would be furious if she knew how close he had been to having a heart attack.
"And now go home. Your shift is over, anyways."
Breathing a silent sigh of relief, you nodded, heading out of the office. You had been lucky the blinds had been closed, otherwise the whole LAPD would have witnessed that conversation.
You didn't look at Tim, as you made your way to the locker room, biting back the emotions trying to take over.
The Mexican food you wanted to order at his place, would be cancelled now, your whole evening ruined.
You really should have looked better if anyone was near, before you talked about private things.
Seriously, how could you miss Grey?
He had seen how close you seemed, after parking the shop, Tim's hand almost brushing yours as he leaned closer to talk into your ear.
This one gesture had spoken more than a thousand words to him.
And it was exactly the reason, why Tim avoided to talk about his private life.
Or show it, for that matter.
But he had a moment of weakness, your flirtatious behavior over the day constantly turning him on.
He really should have known better.
His eyes scanned the parking lot for you, trying to make you out in the dark. He spotted your car, seeing that you weren't there yet, as he made his way over to it.
He decided to wait, fingers drumming on the strap of his backpack, as you left the station.
Fumbling for your keys, you didn't notice him at first, only when you almost stood in front of him.
Blinking a few times in confusion, your cheeks heated up. "What do you want?" you asked, inhaling shakily. "We should talk." he gave back, shifting his weight.
Brows furrowed, you looked at him. "If you want to end things, then just say it, Tim." you told him, trying to act nonchalant about it, even if your heart broke at the possibility of him ending whatever it was you two had.
"Wh- No!" he responded a little too fast, taking a step forward with his mouth agape. "I mean- If you want to end this, then I'll stay away from you."
Eyes widening, you felt how they burned from tears again. Of course you didn't want to end this.
Shaking your head, you told him exactly that.
"I don't want to end this." you spoke, taking a step forward as well, all the while feeling Grey's gaze burning holes in your back, even if he wasn't even near.
"But I don't think we should continue on like this. Grey is right, what we're doing is risky." you continued, sighing heavily. "We're jeopardizing our careers, risking to lose our jobs. Or at least risking our credibility and the trust they have in us. I think it's better, that he replaces you as my TO."
Your words struck something deep inside him, making him swallow. On one side he thought you were right - if he continued being your TO, though not able to keep his hands from you, your career would have been over, before it even started.
On the other hand, he feared that he'd lose you.
"If you want to keep this up, what do you mean we shouldn't continue on like this?" he wanted to know, the crease between his brows deepening.
"Are you breaking up?"
The words had left his lips, before he had a chance to properly think about it. His cheeks burned up, and he was thankful that you weren't able to see it in the dim light of the parking lot.
Your mouth opened, but you weren't able to utter a single word, only staring at him. Chuckling uneasily, you shook your head.
"Breaking up postulates there's something to break up." you told him, voice small. You didn't want him to see the heartbreak in your eyes, so you averted them.
"We're not together - there is nothing to break up."
He swallowed heavily, his throat suddenly way too dry. His heart seemed to be in an iron grip, pumping ice crystals through his veins.
He hated the way you said it, the way you sounded so broken.
"Grey is right." he muttered bitterly, nodding to himself, as he took a step backwards. Your eyes snapped back to his, following his movement.
"We shouldn't do this. The LAPD doesn't approve of it and we only risk our jobs. You're right, we shouldn't continue this."
He turned around and started to walk away, your heart breaking as he did. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you felt as if you couldn't breathe.
"Tim!" you called out, voice shaking, as you practically jumped after him, grabbing his arm to stop him from walking further away from you.
He stiffened, but didn't turn around. He only stopped, with your hand still on his arm. Inhaling shakily, you braced yourself for your next words.
"I don't want to break up." you softly spoke, one of the tears managing to free itself. Biting your lip, you shook your head. "I don't want to let you go - I can't."
He slowly turned around to you, giving you the chance to take your words back.
But you didn't.
Staring straight back at him, you stood your ground. That you were still at the almost empty parking lot, wasn't important anymore.
Neither were the people that could walk out of the station at any moment.
"If I have to do more tests, have another TO, then so be it. But I don't want to lose you, Tim."
More tears rolled down your cheeks, betraying your aching heart. Your emotions were on display for him to see, and you weren't planning on backing down.
He took a shaky breath, mouth slightly open. He didn't know what to say - hell, he wasn't even sure what you were trying to say. Had you fallen for him? As much as he had fallen for you?
"Hate me, abandon me, whatever you want." you told him, wet lips pressing together, head shaking. "But I can't act like I don't have feelings for you, any longer. Yes, it can cost us our jobs, or just mine, since you're one of the best officers here, but I'm willing to take that risk. Let Grey be angry, shout at us or transfer me when im a p2 - I don't care."
He was speechless, a rare sight.
Swallowing, he took a step closer. "What are you trying to say?" He had to know, had to hear it one more time, in case he had misunderstood you.
"I'm saying that I have feelings for you, that I have fallen in love with you, Tim." you brought over your shaking lips, heart racing as you were nervous how he would respond to your confession.
He huffed, amusement and relief hugging him like a warm blanket. Honestly, he hadn't known how he'd reacted, if you'd pushed him away for real.
His arms wrapped around you tightly, bringing you into his embrace, as he exhaled slowly. Hugging him back, your cheek rested on his chest, hearing his heart race.
"I have feelings for you, too." he confessed, smiling into your hair. "Fuck the LAPD and their opinion. I have the sergeant exam in my pocket, if they want to punish us, I'll find another station, maybe I'll even go to the metro."
You couldn't help but laugh quietly at him, knowing he'd do it.
"Go out with me." he spoke, looking down at you, after you separated, his hands on your upper arms.
Smiling, you sniffed, face still tear stained. "I'd love to." you agreed, nodding to underline your words. He smiled back, before his hand wrapped around your shoulder, walking you towards your car.
"Are we still getting Mexican tonight?" he asked, a smirk playing at his lips. Rolling your eyes, you nodded with a grin.
"I'll get us a table." he told you, sending you a wink, as you gaped at him, stopping at your car. "I know the owner."
Shaking your head, you couldn't help but smile. "Okay." He nodded, smiling right back.
As Tim told you he'd pick you up in an hour, Grey smiled to himself.
He'd been watching your interaction through a window, secretly happy about your smiling faces, as his wife caught him stalking you two, hitting his arm in warning.
"Wade!"
<- Part two
Tag List
@laheysfilm
@newobsessionweekly
#the rookie#the rookie imagine#the rookie x reader#the rookie x u#tim bradford#tim bradford x reader#tim bradford x you#tim bradford imagine#imagine
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LEMONADE + SHIU KONG // f!reader ( she's a sniper), smoking, mention of murder and violence, implicit smut, semi-public ( happens in a car ), little tension between them, rivals to fvck buddies dynamics, he is such a tease here. 1.3 (w.c)
special thanks to @poohbea for beta-reading. without her, i really wouldn't have posted this. i had something in mind and this is entirely different. so i said better luck next time to myself and found the courage to post this. | back to nav. | also tagging @yuujispinkhair
“You’re not nearly as inconspicuous as you believe yourself to be.” Kong mutters off-handedly under his breath, reaching for the latch of your belt. His minty tobacco-laced breath paired with that familiar musky cologne threatens to send your nerves into a frenzy. He’s too close for someone who claims to ‘just wanted to undo your seatbelt’. He had no reason to but he did it anyway, probably because you were asking too many questions. He could have easily pressed one of those buttons on the driver’s side door, the one that unlocks all seat belts at once. The car is fancy enough to have those kinds of luxury features anyway, but you can’t help the racing of your heart when his fingers brush your skin. It’s only when he sits back in his own seat do you register his remark. Did he just scold you? The possibility alone has you licking your bottom lip nervously.
It’s not as though he never has, but given your history with him, he rarely comments on your professionalism. He has been your handler for almost a year now and has yet to actually correct or complain about the way you do your job. He’s proud of your skills, he has to be, otherwise, he wouldn’t be hiring you for every sniper-kill case he gets.
“I heard you were back in town,” he starts, tapping on his cigarette packet before taking one between his lips. “But I couldn't contact you until I got the green light. That, and I’ve been too damn busy with the bounty offers that keep coming up.” He digs into his breast pocket to fish out a lighter, the flame flicking to life as his thumb rolls over the spark wheel. You look at him visibly confused, something he acknowledges with an amused huff. “Were you really so busy that you couldn't read the briefing I sent you?” He is definitely scolding you, but for what exactly? Trying to stay neutral in the face of his crude teasing, you let out a small breath, choosing to keep his gaze despite the nagging need to look away. He’s changed a bit. There’s worry in his eyes, more than usual, eyebrows creased as he continues. “Ah! I can't let you slip up now — ”
“Why am I here?” You interject with a frown.
“What?” He has the audacity to look at you surprised, as if he wasn’t the one to call you here again.
“This is the third time this month you’ve had me meet you… and in case you haven’t noticed, I have a bit of a busy schedule.” Kong lets you speak for longer than ten seconds for the first time in a very long time, his bad habit of interrupting taking the backseat for once. When he doesn’t answer you, you click your tongue, irritation evident in the furrow of your brow. “Why am I here, Kong-san���?”
“Shiu.” He corrects. Guess you spoke too soon. “And you still didn't answer my question. Did you or did you not—”
“I did.” You respond sourly. “And it told me a whole lot of nothing. Which is why I'll ask you again. Why am I here, Shiu?” Despite your irritation, the glaring fact of his contributions to your career as a sniper sits heavy on your shoulders as you sit in weighted silence. He knows it too, and never fails to bring it up every time you try to walk away, try to tell him you don’t need his help. He’s pushed you farther than anyone else ever has. Certainly, you owe it to him, but his ego is already big enough without the offer of such a confession, and you would rather put a bullet in your skull than admit that.
The air inside the car grows thick with smoke as he takes drag after drag of his cigarette, not that you minded, you’re a smoker yourself, but just to spite him you opened the window by your side. “Isn’t it obvious?” Kong soon discards the butt out of his own window, studying you all the while, observing the mix of question and frustration that creases your forehead as your frown deepens. His lips tug up in one corner ever so slightly, too slight for anyone else to spot, but being around him as often as you have, you knew it was coming. “I’ve missed you.”
You blink. Once. Twice. Thrice. What a horrible man… he’s toying with you.
“Hilarious,” you mutter, offering him a sarcastic chuckle. He doesn’t waver, doesn’t look away, that small smile growing at your skepticism. The realization has your heart beating in your ears, and suddenly finding it difficult to keep his gaze.
“Want me to prove it to you?” He dips his head slightly, the leather of his seat squeaking in protest as he leans closer.
“No.” Your reply was instantaneous but you do not move, his hand reaching to play with the necklace resting against your collarbone, the very someone he gifted you after your first successful case. “Aren't we supposed to be doing a job here?”
“You tell me. Haven't you read the briefing?” Again with the same question. He is far too calm in this situation, fingers caressing the hammering pulse that lies just below the surface of your skin. “You weren’t lying to me were you—?”
“This is going nowhere.” You huff, finally breaking the intense staring contest he had trapped you in, finding the courage to withdraw from his touch momentarily.
“It could if…” he guides you back to him, grasping your chin between his thumb and forefinger, gaze dipping to your lips. “If you wanted.”
You bite your lip lowering your head to hide your merriment. “Like the last time?” You ask with a knowing smile. If you wanted. Yeah. Sure. As if he didn’t. Because during the ‘last time’ in question, things were entirely different. You two weren’t out for a job. In fact, you were in a situation similar to this one, in his car, engaging in your usual back and forth. It’s unclear exactly what came over you that day, but those sly eyes and that cocky smile had you seeing your handler as less of a mentor and more of the man he was. The conversation devolved into his lips against yours, his hands against your hips as he encouraged you from your seat onto his lap. Thunder rumbled the heavens and rain battered against the windshield, the perfect mask for inevitable heavy breaths and throaty moans. Your skin tingled beneath his touch, his lips, his teeth, the press of his thigh between your legs that had electricity crackling up the base of your spine. His name fogged the windows, each syllable working its way through the tresses of your mind till that was all you could utter, all that truly mattered. He reveled in that, in the way you gave yourself to him almost entirely. How your body grew hot with every caress, every thrust, every kiss. What did you even call this feeling? Neither of you knew, but it was clear that either didn’t want it to stop. By the end of it, his presence spanned your body, inside and out.
Shiu laughs at your subtle accusation. It has the kind of warmth that reminds you of cozy mornings during winter. There is a pregnant pause after he says. “Yeah.” Bobbing his head in a ‘yes’. You shake your head slowly, an amused breath leaving your nose as your nerves buzz with memories past.
You sigh, assessing him with narrowed eyes, trying to figure out what exactly he’s hiding beneath that elaborately organized talk of his. But the man is a vault, hiding behind dark eyes that threaten to reel you in again. It has you playing with your tongue, curling it against the insides of your mouth before smacking your lips. “Was there really any job for me to begin with?” You retort.
Shiu Kong smiles, his carefully crafted demeanor crumbling in the face of the woman he’s slowly beginning to fall for. “There wasn’t.” He says bashfully.
—
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#shiu kong x reader#shiu kong smut#jjk smut#jjk x reader#anime smut#female reader#angelshub#x female reader#x female y/n#x fem!reader#jjk s2 spoilers#shiu kong#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jjk fanfic#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jujutsu kaisen x female reader#jjk drabbles#smut drabble#smut#smut fanfiction#smut fic#anime x female reader#anime x you#anime fanfic#kong shiu#shiu kon#cw violence#cw exhibitionism
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🎁🎄Christmas Elf - Lando Norris
<word count - 2512>
You'd been at McLaren for two weeks, so that meant unfortunately (or not so much) that you were unable to participate in secret santa with them this year. Everyone had gathered in the break room, leaving you at your desk to carry on working.
You didn't really mind, since it would have been hard for you or whoever got you if you had taken part. As you stared at you screen, you mindlessly fiddled with the charms on your bracelet. No one else was working, so you didn't feel bad that you weren't.
It would've been nice to celebrate some of the Christmas cheer, but it was fine. "Hey Y/N?" someone called. You looked up, seeing your boss stood in the doorway. "Yeah?"
"Someone left this under the tree for you," he smiled, bringing the small bag and setting it down on your desk. "But my name wasn't pulled?"
"I know, but someone was feeling the Christmas spirit," he lightly chuckled, disappearing back into the break room. You looked at it for a moment, pulling it closer to you so that you could peer inside. All you could see was a small white box, and you were curious, to say the least.
Reading the tag attached, it only made you more curious. 'Dear Y/N, I know you weren't included in secret santa this year, but I figured you deserved a gift as well. I saw this, and thought it would fit perfectly with your collection. Merry Christmas, X'
Reaching your hand in, you pulled the box out and placed it in front of you, trying to figure out what it was before you opened it. You gave in pretty quickly, lifting the lid of the box. You couldn't help but smile as you saw the tiny race car charm for your bracelet.
You failed to notice the pair of eyes watching you as you grinned, holding it between your fingers. It was absolutely lovely, even the tiniest details were perfectly etched onto it. It was like a like-for-like replica of the cars that were in the show room downstairs, and you loved it.
You quickly clipped it to your bracelet, and it was instantly one of your favourites that you had. As the whole day went by, you found your eyes wandering down to the charm on your wrist, and you couldn't help but smile at it every time.
You wanted to know who to thank for the overwhelmingly thoughtful gift, since no one had signed off the card, or left any indication as to who they were. Surely it wouldn't be too hard to figure it out, since someone was bound to have seen the gift be put under the tree.
Throughout the day, you were still being watched by the person, and he felt that the look on your face was absolutely priceless. His note was just a little white lie, as well. Yes, he had wanted you to be included in secret santa, but that was simply a front.
He would have gotten the charm for you regardless, but the gift giving in the office provided the perfect way for him to secretly gift it to you. He had been brainstorming the present ever since you stepped foot in the office, and it was not something that was on the every day market. He had to use some connections, but the smile of pure joy on your face was worth it.
Meanwhile, you had been asking around the office, seeing if anyone had seen the gift when they put theirs down. It took a while, but you eventually located the first person who had put their present down. "Hey Jim, are you free for a minute?" you asked, approaching Jim in the breakroom.
"Sure Y/N, what's up?" he replied, turning to face you.
"Were you the first person to put down your secret santa gift?"
"No, there was already one under the tree. They must've been in early," he told you.
"Did it happen to look like this?" you asked, placing the bag that your charm was in down on the table in front of him. "Yeah, that was the only thing under the tree when I went,"
"Did you see anyone else around? Do you know who else was there?" you pressed, desperate to know who had bought you the present. "Sorry, I didn't see anyone else. The first person that I saw was Lando, but that was just after one of the meetings downstairs." Jim explained.
"But there weren't any meetings today, well, none that Lando had to be in," you eyed him skeptically. "That was just what he said,"
"OK, thanks Jim. Merry Christmas," you smiled as you walked away. Why would Lando lie? He must've had his reasons, but you couldn't think of any point in it. He was Lando Norris, if he wanted to be here, then he was allowed to be.
He was the star of the show in this place, he didn't need a reason to hang around, he just could. Anyway, your search that had lead to Jim had proven fruitless, so you headed back to your desk after your lunch break had been spent on a wild goose chase.
After finally engrossing yourself in your work, you noticed someone stood in front of your desk. "Hey Lando," you said, without even looking up from your computer. He had probably just come to ask if you could cancel his meetings for tomorrow or something.
"Hey Y/N, how are you doing?" he smiled, leaning over your desk with his arms propping him up. You found the grin on his face slightly suspicious, but Lando always had a hidden agenda. He was always up to something.
"Not bad thanks, you?"
"Yeah, I'm good, I'm good." you replied, bring your hand to your face to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Nice bracelet. I like the car, very apt," he said, grabbing your hand to inspect your wrist. His hands were warm, his fingertips gentle on the skin of your wrist.
"Oh yeah, it's really pretty, isn't it? I'm trying to figure out who gave it to me, you have any ideas?" you asked, failing to see the glint of mischief in his eye. You were completely oblivious, and he was thoroughly enjoying it.
"No, sorry, not a clue. But I'm sure they'll reveal themselves at some point. See you later, good luck on your quest," he grinned, pushing himself away from the desk and walking away from you.
"Bye Lando," you replied, and he was gone as quickly as he had gotten to you. You found the nature of his visit slightly odd, but you didn't think anything of it.
The rest of your day was spent without knowing a single thing about the mystery sweetheart who had given you your gift, and you desperately wanted to thank them for their efforts. You'd spend time just staring at it, as if you were hoping it would reveal its previous owner.
You were still being watched, the person having a smug smirk plastered on his face. He could see the cogs turning in your head, confusion written all over your features. He'd let the scepticism simmer for a while, and then he'd tell you.
Or maybe not. He'd see.
--
The next morning, you walked into the office to see your desk was different. The best kind of different. Your computer had a string of multi-coloured Christmas lights draped over the monitor, and there was a mini Christmas tree sat to the side of it.
It was decorated with mini baubles, and had an adorable little star on the top. On the surface of your desk, fake snow had been sprinkled around and it looked like a small winter wonderland right on your desk.
Placed on your keyboard was another note: 'Dear Y/N, the whole office is decorated, so I thought that your desk could be too. I hope you like it, X'. You put the note in your desk drawer along with the other, hoping you could use them to find out who had given you the gift and decorated your desk.
"Jim? Did you see?" you called out to Jim, who was sat at his desk, typing away at something.
"It was like that when I got here," he said with a smile, quickly turning his attention back to his computer. Nobody arrived to work before Jim, absolutely nobody. And even if someone had, he surely would have seen them near your desk and mentioned it to you.
"Nice decorations, Y/N," Lando said, appearing at your side, and scanning his eyes over your desk. "Was it the mystery Christmas elf again?"
"Yeah, and it is so cute. I love it," you beamed, "I don't know who they are, and I need to thank them for this. It's just so lovely," you rambled, your eyes shining with delight.
"Still not close to figuring it out?"
"No, my best guess is Jim at the moment, but I don't know," you shook your head, Jim being the only logical person. "Jim?!" Lando spluttered, his eyes widening in shock. Out of all the people in the office, you came to the conclusion it was Jim.
"He's the only one who is here when stuff happens. He was here when my gift was put under the tree, and he was here when my desk was decorated," you explained your conclusion to deciding Jim was your mystery Christmas elf.
"He doesn't seem like the type to me, if I'm being honest," Lando diverted his shock and slight worry away from Jim.
"Why not? You know something I don't, Norris?" you teased, nudging him.
"I, uhm, no. I just don't want you getting the wrong idea, that's all," he said, trying to hide the panic in his voice. He didn't want you to know just yet. He liked seeing you all frazzled, confused, unknowing. He was proud of himself for having pulled it off.
"Don't worry Lando, I know you would've told me if you knew," you smirked, turning your attention back to the people around the office. Not a single on of them looked like the people who could be your mystery Christmas elf, and you were at a loss.
"Yeah, I would've," he nodded, but it sounded like he was trying to convince himself of the fact instead of genuinely believing it. "You're coming to the party tonight, right? The end of year thing?" Lando asked, changing the subject.
"Yeah, yeah, I'll be there," you nodded, looking forward to your first McLaren Christmas party, hopefully, of many. "You coming?"
"I sure will be," he smiled, "I'll see you later,"
--
The festive spirit enveloped the office as twinkling lights adorned the words and tinsel sparkled around every corner. Your first of many annual Christmas parties was now in full swing, and your office suddenly didn't seem so bad as your colleagues filled the air with laughter.
"Lando, you'll never guess what," you said, leaving out any sort of greeting when you approached Lando after finding him in the middle of the party. He had to do a double take when he saw you, for once the lack of papaya bringing him pure joy.
He couldn't put a word to your appearance in his mind that quite did it justice, but the closest he could find was perfect. Just... everything about you was simply perfect, and the beaming smile plastered on your face was more dazzling than the star atop the Christmas tree. "What?"
"I got a package in the mail from my Christmas elf the minute I arrived home," you excitedly told him.
"Oh really? What did they send you this time?" he asked, glad the plan had been pulled off to perfection. He was very proud of himself, he had been doing a great job over the past couple of days to get everything that he needed to be done, done.
"Aren't they the prettiest?" you giggled, pulling your hair back to show off the dangling, golden Christmas tree earrings that had arrived at your door.
"They really are," he nodded, thoroughly satisfied with the results of his Christmas escapade. While Lando's brain was being smug, you couldn't help but stare at him. Yes, he always looked good, that was a given, but he was looking extra snazzy tonight.
Something about that man in suit just hit different. A very good different indeed. "This person must really like you then, huh?"
"Yeah, and I'd really like to know who they are," you grinned, wanting to know who this mystery person was. They had brought so much light and joy to you in the past couple days, and you wanted to be able to thank them.
"I mean, decorating your desk, sending stuff in the post, making sure yours was the first gift under the tree. That's dedication," he nodded, hoping you'd take the bait and talk about how amazing he- sorry, I mean your Christmas elf was.
"How'd you know it was the first under the tree? I never told you it was," you said, the pieces clicking together in your head.
"Did you not? Huh, lucky guess," Lando nervously chuckled, trying to dig himself out of the suddenly deep hole he had found himself in.
"You didn't have a meeting yesterday morning, did you Lando?" you pressed, finally settling on the idea that it was indeed not Jim, but Lando Norris himself.
"No..."
"So why were you in the office early?" you further poked, wanting to hear it straight from the horse's mouth.
"To put your present under the tree," he admitted, looking right into your eyes. Surely you wouldn't change your mind on the graciousness of your Christmas elf just because it was Lando, right? He just loved bringing joy to you, and seeing you so happy made him joyous beyond belief.
With a beaming smile, you couldn't stop yourself as you leant in, closing the distance between the two of you. Time seemed to slow as your lips met, a gentle kiss that carried the spirit of Christmas, the joy of the season, and perhaps the hint of something more.
Your surrounding co-workers pointed and were shocked, but they didn't find it unusual. Lando had been sneaking around the place a lot recently, and they all clocked on a lot quicker than you did.
As you pulled away, your eyes were locked together, and you couldn't help but share a knowing smile. Looking to your left, you saw Jim stood there, a mischievous smirk dancing on his lips. Over your heads, he held a sprig of mistletoe. "Really Jim?" you laughed.
"Merry Christmas," he chuckled back, leaving you and Lando stood there. The party continued around you, but it might as well have just been you and Lando in the room.
"Thank you, so much," you breathlessly said.
"What else is a Christmas elf for?" he softly chuckled, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.
"Merry Christmas," you smiled, kissing him on the cheek. This was, without a doubt, the best secret santa gift you had ever gotten, and would probably ever get.
A/N - Merry Christmas part 2! I have so many Christmas ideas, but there is only one joyful season per year, and I have a lot of other stuff that needs writing, so it may be saved until next year... We'll see. Would you guys mind getting Christmas stuff in the middle of the year? Lmk! Requests are open, love you loads 💖
|masterlist|
#f1#f1 x reader#formula 1#f1 x you#formula 1 x reader#f1 imagines#formula 1 imagines#formula 1 x you#fluff#f1 x y/n#formula 1 x y/n#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris imagines#lando norris fluff#ln4 x y/n#ln4 x reader#ln4 x you#ln4 imagines#ln4 fluff
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Public service reminder: I love y'all for your support in what I do here, but (a very gentle but) I want to make it clear that this isn't the way-
Names are censored for obv privacy reasons and I don't want to put any of my own readers on blast because I trust comments like these are made with good intention. I appreciate y'all for loving what I do here and putting it out there for others to read along, but I don't do it for this. As much as Rekindled is indeed a parody redraw of LO that's trying to "fix" a lot of the original comic's issues, at the end of the day it's still just a Tumblr project that I'm doing here for fun and I don't want to see it used as ammunition in the comments sections dedicated specifically to LO (for clarification, this was in the @webtoonofficial announcement post for LO winning its third Eisner).
Whether or not it's "better" than LO is subjective and irrelevant. I obviously can't pretend like I didn't have my own motivations to "fix" what I felt was broken, but the act of "fixing" was for those of us who saw it as broken, not for those who love LO as is.
I also can't reasonably ask anyone to keep their opinions about Rekindled to themselves, it's a piece of work that is publicly available and therefore that will put it under the lens of public opinion, but from me to you, this ain't the way. I host it on Tumblr and DH precisely to keep it out of the main view of the fans/stans, because this work isn't for them, it's for all of you who share my disappointment in the original series. I want to be able to run this space free of any extreme fandom discourse - this is also why you won't see me using general LO tags on Tumblr/IG - but the only way that can happen is if we all play nice and don't let the heat of the discourse get to us. Rest assured, I will always stand by my work and what I do here because I love it and have found my lost joy in what LO used to mean to me through it as well as a community of amazing writers and creators... but prevention is better than the cure and I don't want any of that heat getting thrown back my way through weaponizing of my work with or without my knowing in the first place.
Am I pissed about the comic's third win? Absolutely. And as much as I feel it isn't worth anyone's time or energy to get into bickering matches with the stans in these comment sections, those opinions regarding the comic pre-exist my participation in this fandom and would have, one way or another, hit that boiling point regardless (and it's been wild to watch that comment section go down, I can't lie lmao) But this is not the way. Rekindled is - to me, and hopefully to you, too - a reclaiming of the love and passion people like myself used to have for LO, and a celebration of Greek myth and transformative fiction as a genre, above everything else it stands for or could be interpreted as. It's not a weapon meant to be used in discourse. Let's please do our best to be mindful of that so we can keep having fun in this special little space we've carved for ourselves and not make ourselves into the monsters we're often made out to be just for critically discussing and transforming a piece of media that, in spite of all its flaws, brought us together in the way that it did. Let's keep being the best for each other instead of turning ourselves into the worst over others within this massive fandom who we were never going to agree with in the first place.
Thank you all, much love 💖 Do no harm, take no shit ✊️
#lore rekindled#ask me anything#ama#anon ama#anon ask me anything#lore olympus critical#anti lore olympus#lo critical#lore rekindled comic#lore rekindled ama
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(You can tag me on my tgs side blog. I also apologize but I know a few Scottish words. So to anyone reading this I apologize for the inaccuracy.) Becky Boxleitner noticed a change in the atmosphere as she and her pet monkey Bob walked into the sixth grade classroom. All of the students were excitedly chatting with one another. Becky and Bob exchanged confused looks at the scene. 'What is going on?' They both thought. Becky walked to where her friends Violet Heaslip, Rose Franklin, and Todd Scoops Ming were sitting, also joining in the excited yet low volume chattering. "Hey guys what's going on?" Becky asked her friends. They each turned their heads to greet their friend. "Hey Becky guess what, we're getting a new teacher for our class!" Scoops exclaimed. Becky looked surprised at the announcement. Bob also mimicked her facial expression. "Wait really? What happened to Miss Davis?" Becky asked, wondering what happened to their old teacher. It was just a week only into the new school year so a sudden teacher exchange was a complete shock to Becky especially since there were no announcements about it beforehand. "Miss Davis had to move back home because of a family emergency." Rose Franklin answered. "The principal had to scramble to find a new teacher to fill in for our class. It was all last minute stuff." Becky nodded in understanding of her friends' answers. It was a nice perk to be friends who were upcoming reporters. Soon the final bell rang which indicated for every student to take their seats. Becky took her place beside her best friend Violet and Bob plopped down next to her. Soon a man who looked to be in his mid 30s walked in and towards the desk. He had curly brown air, an arched nose, and reddish brown eyes. He wore a tan button-down shirt with a red vest as well as brown slacks and dark suede shoes. The man gave a pleasant and warm smile to all the students there. "Hello my name is Dr. Henry Jekyll and I will be your teacher for the school year." Becky and the other kids ears perked up as they took note of the man's accent. Even Tobey became slightly interested in his new teacher. None of them were sure where their new teacher was from. Dr. Jekyll gave a light chuckle as if he could sense their growing curiosity about him. He lightly clapped his hands together to gain their undivided attention and focus. "Well since this is my first time teaching here, why don't we all play a little game so we can all get better acquainted with each other. Here's what to do. One at a time, say your name and share a wee bit about yourself. Likes, family, interests and all that. I'll go first to show ya what ah mean. Again. My name is Dr. Henry Jekyll. I was born in Glasgow but ah moved to London where I attended university. I have a five year old wee lassie or daughter named Amber. I enjoy chemistry and reading on occasions. Now who would like to go next?" @unhingedexperimenter
Of course Tobey had taken the opportunity to place attention on himself and to have a reason to boast about himself. “My name is Tobey McCallister the third and I will be the most intelligent student you'll meet here.” The others had rolled their eyes, used to this kind of behavior from their peers. Becky seemed to be the most annoyed by it. Having been forced to put up with his destructive tantrums in the past. Henry smiled just as warmly as before. Unbothered by the obnoxious behavior that the boy had been displaying. Tobey had been going on about himself for a good few minutes before the teacher finally spoke up. “Ahem, yes. Thank you for that Mr. McCallister. Would anyone else like to tell me a bit about themselves as well?” No one could tell that behind the facade, Dr. Henry Jekyll was becoming more irritated by the moment. Not by the child but by the pest that refused to leave him be. Scoffing within his head at what they just heard. He didn't share the disembodied voice's opinion but wanted to give the other children a chance to introduce themselves as well. To the others' shock, Tobey seemed to have taken this well. Quickly going back to his desk with no issues. Becky was relieved at that. Soon the other children had started to introduce themselves to their new teacher with little to no issues. He seemed genuinely nice enough to her. This new teacher didn't seem like most of the adults within this city. Some she had to define words repeatedly for. Dr. Jekyll knew what he was teaching and knew his vocabulary. It was Violet who had brought Becky out from her own thoughts, calling her name. Waving a hand in front of her face. “Becky?” The girl smiled in an embarrassed manner. “Huh? Yes?” Violet smiled, patient with her best friend. “Why don't you introduce yourself now? Nearly everybody else already did.” She had given a surprised expression. Becky hadn't realized that she was so lost within her thoughts until then. She stood up and began speaking. “My name is Becky Boxleitner and I also like libraries,reading and Pretty Princess.” The presence that was grating at the teacher's nerves had deemed this too dull to enjoy. Leaving Dr. Jekyll be to his teaching. Well, getting to know his students. He was happy to see that they were engaged in these activities that were meant to break the ice. Though one student in particular had caught his attention the most. Becky. While she did seem rather bright, there was something strange about her behavior at times. Pausing whatever she was doing at the time to listen in on something. Thinking it went unnoticed. Even once looking alarmed and she made an excuse to go to the bathroom. He had allowed it. Feeling that it would've been better to have let her. It seemed…oddly familiar. As if he had seen that behavior somewhere before but couldn't figure out exactly where from. When the school day was finally over, Becky had gone to go home like the others. Dr. Jekyll had of course stayed behind to set more things up within his new classroom. Making a plan on exactly what he'll actually start teaching the next day. Though, the grating voice had returned to be a thorn in his side. “Come on. Leave this boring stuff alone. Leave it until tomorrow. I've been pent up for far too long. Let's have some fun.” This had earned an eye roll and a loud huff from the teacher. “No, I've got to get this done now. You will have enough time tonight. Just be patient until then.” A shadowy figure formed in front of Dr. Jekyll. A frown on its face. “But this is so extremely dull. I want to stretch my legs. I want to make myself known already.” Dr. Jekyll glared. “And that is precisely why I'm so hesitant to let you out so soon. At least let us get acclimated to our surroundings first.” The figure let out an annoyed groan. “You know you want this as much as I do. Otherwise you'd never have any actual fun in the sad and pathetic life you call yours.”
@thecountoflondonfansite
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What are you doing here? 01
Ominis Gaunt x f!MC Word count: 4328, properly tagged on AO3
Chapter summary: Falling right between the awkwardness of their first encounter outside the Undercroft and their jaunt into the Scriptorium, Ominis and the new fifth year have an innocuous little meet up in the library.
a/n: I’ve always wondered why Mc would offer to talk to Ominis about the Scriptorium, when their last interaction outside the Undercroft was so hostile, and I figured there could have been another conversation in between- not anything deep or meaningful, just a little chat that made it clear that they don’t hate each other. So that’s what this is, and although it’s now the first chapter/prologue of a slow-burn longfic, it was originally a oneshot and can still be read as such, if you prefer. Enjoy! And many, many thanks to @myokk for encouraging me to finally post this, you're the best ❤️
Masterlist || Chapter 02
Chapter 01 - Invitation
Sending her that letter might have been a mistake.
Ominis Gaunt had been sitting in the library for hours now, waiting for someone who, he now realised, in all likelihood would not come.
“I heard you running around aimlessly in the defence against the dark arts tower again today. If you enjoy my company that much, perhaps you would like to join me in the library this evening. I’ll wait.”
It was supposed to be a playful way of telling her he was not angry anymore, a sort of peace offering after he had yelled at her outside the Undercroft.
It was only after he’d sent the letter that he realised it probably sounded presumptuous and rude beyond belief. Words on parchment couldn’t tell the reader what tone of voice they’d like to be read in, at least not until someone invented a spell for that, but it was too late to take it back.
He sighed. Honestly, he could not remember what possessed him to write the blasted thing in the first place. It had been a whim, a result of his frustration and loneliness when he heard he’d be spending another evening alone because Sebastian had gotten himself detention again. He was not usually that bold, and she was practically a stranger.
They did happen to share a best friend in Sebastian though, so one could hardly blame him for trying to get to know her. In fact, it might be long overdue.
At least that was the excuse he’d use if anyone asked. Or the one he told himself, to be honest.
The truth was, she intrigued him. It took him some time to realise it, but now that he did, he couldn’t let go of the feeling. If Sebastian was to be believed, she was curious about him too, or at least she had been, for a fleeting moment- before his temper got the better of him and he took his frustrations about Sebastian’s betrayal out on her.
Ominis sighed again and ran his hand through his hair.
Someone from across the table shushed him, and his face twitched in slight annoyance.
Oh, he really hoped they’d be gone by the time she showed up, whoever they were.
If she showed up.
By now, it seemed more likely that he’d stay here sulking by his lonesome until it was time to walk back to the dungeons, perhaps facing a bemused Sebastian who’d already know where he’d been. The two of them seemed incapable of keeping secrets from one another, after all.
That would ultimately be the proper punishment for his unreasonable jealousy, her rejection delivered by his best friend.
He’d come to the library with every intention of writing the assigned essay for Herbology, determined not to care too much about whether she’d take him up on his invitation, but it was a lost cause. His self-spelling quill wouldn’t work properly unless he concentrated on the precise words he wanted to put on the parchment, but with his head filled with thoughts of the new fifth year and the undefined nature of whatever relationship they did or didn’t have, all he had managed to write so far was an embarrassing mess.
Ominis considered writing with his own hand, but thought better of it. He could, of course. He’d make notes or short letters without his enchanted quill regularly, but writing an entire essay without being able to tell when the lines would inadvertently run into one another was a daunting task. He’d have to use twice as much parchment as anyone else, and he already felt sorry for Professor Garlick, if she’d have to decipher the mess.
Finally, he decided to just give it up. The door opened, and once again, he strained his ears. He was able to recognize her footsteps by now. Not her, just some unfortunate chap getting chewed out by Madam Scribner for returning his books late.
He was starting to feel ridiculous.
It felt like hours since he’d hurried through the castle, almost slipping on the wet fallen leaves covering the stairs when he left the owlery. Heart thumping with excitement, he’d even made sure to sit at a table where he would, hopefully, be seen by her as soon as she walked in, but far enough away from the librarian to have a conversation without being reprimanded for disturbing the peace and quiet.
Actually, if he hadn’t been so concerned that she might not see him and leave, or that he might miss her coming in, he would have preferred a table in the farthest corner on the second floor, away from prying eyes. She was still the talk of the school and gathered attention wherever she went, and “What is she doing with Gaunt?” was not something he wanted to hear whispered in the corridors.
Thankfully, it was one of the last warm and sunny days before the autumn chill fully set in, so most students were happy to make the most of it and took their work outside. Even Cressida Blume still seemed determined to let Madam Scribner forget her face (not that she would), and he hadn’t heard any other classmate of theirs either.
Sebastian’s detention was pointless busy work as usual- scrubbing or cleaning or something of the sort. Truthfully, Ominis had ceased to pay attention when his friend complained about his punishments long ago. Whatever it was, it kept him far away from the library- no one was foolish enough to try and “punish” Sebastian by letting him get his hands on even more books.
Not that it mattered whether they knew the curious onlookers or not. She was still the object of everyone’s interest and admiration, and with the way things were going, that wasn’t likely to change anytime soon. Not while she was so eager and endearing, always willing to drop everything the second someone needed something from her.
Right, it wasn’t like her to deny a request from a fellow student. She’d usually jump at the chance to do someone a favour, even if it came from someone she’d never seen before, even if it was much more bothersome than studying in the library for an hour or two.
So why wasn’t she here?
She wouldn’t have shown anyone his letter, would she? Unless she didn’t have to, if the owl reached her at an inopportune time, Merlin knows who else might have read it over her shoulder.
Ominis could imagine it, them sitting in a circle in the Hufflepuff girl’s dormitory, passing his letter around, seemingly teasing her about it in a playful attempt to get her to be wary of him. Until her curiosity would get the better of her and she’d ask them why precisely they found him so disagreeable. He shuddered.
According to Sebastian, she already knew. She knew, and didn’t care.
According to Sebastian, she also felt apologetic and regretful about their last encounter, much like him.
And if that was the truth- he couldn’t be entirely sure it was, but if it was, why wasn’t she here? Ominis tapped his quill against the parchment, piercing tiny holes into it and probably soaking the table underneath with ink.
He was slowly but surely getting annoyed now. If she was as regretful about invading the Undercroft as Sebastian had made it seem, she should have pounced at the chance to meet up with him and make things right.
Of course, that had been weeks ago, so she might have gotten over it by now. Still, he wasn’t good enough for her to at least show up and quietly do her homework on the opposite side of the table? It wasn’t as if she didn’t have any work to do. She always did, with all the extra assignments the Professors threw at her to help her catch up, and even if by some miracle she didn’t, it wouldn’t hurt her to simply study, for once.
She could have come. Ominis frowned. Unless she actually couldn’t.
Notorious troublemaker and rule breaker that she was, he’d often half jokingly wondered when her recklessness would come to bite her in the arse, only it wasn’t unthinkable, was it?
Her duelling skills didn’t make her invincible, it was entirely possible that she was lying dead, or dying, somewhere on the cold forest floor. Small animals and insects already crawling under her robes and the scarf she always insisted on wearing, slowly devouring her corpse while a confused owl pecked at her, trying to get her cold hands to take his stupid, embarrassing letter.
Ominis took a deep, steadying breath in an attempt to squash the slowly rising dread.
Stop it. She was fine, she had other things to do, or she thought she was in trouble with him again and didn’t feel like being chastised and insulted all evening. It was annoying that she didn’t even want to find out what he wanted from her- nothing, really, except perhaps a chance to clear the air- but he had no right to complain, he was the one who messed things up.
And his annoyance was merely a way to mask his fear of rejection.
He slumped down, his forehead hitting the table with a soft thud. Ears filled with the sounds of soft footsteps, turned pages and scratching quills, ink from his quill staining his fingertips but nothing to really occupy his mind in her stead.
Why couldn’t he have spent a few more minutes to rewrite that letter, although one could barely call it a letter- the note, why couldn’t he have tried to sound a bit more friendly and inviting? Then again, even a second longer might have caused him to rethink the whole thing, keeping him from sending it at all.
All things considered, that would have been a blessing in disguise, saving him from making an absolute fool of himself.
He’d heard it countless times from the Sallow twins, trying to console him in his moments of self-doubt; that he was a good person, a good friend, that he was fun to be with, but it’s not like she’d ever seen that side of him.
The two of them would make an odd, unlikely combination, but he wanted to get to know her, be near her. His invitation had been a final act of desperation- or perhaps insanity- a desire to hold on to the strange but comforting, tender feeling that rose in his chest whenever he heard her voice in class or her footsteps in the hallways nowadays.
At the very least, he wanted to make sure there was no lingering resentment between them.
The library door opened again, and the next sound to reach his ears suddenly made his head feel blissfully empty.
It was her voice, and he instantly straightened his back and cocked his head to the side to listen better as she greeted the librarian.
She made her way through the library, with eager steps, drawing closer until he could smell her signature scent, then until he could hear her breathing. Ominis noticed she was slightly out of breath.
Had she been in a hurry?
To meet him?
In spite of the confusion, the sick feeling inside him dissolved almost instantly, all thoughts of why she made him wait only to show up hours later forgotten. She cared. She cared at least enough to give him a bit of her time.
“Hello, Ominis,” she said.
He knew she wasn’t one for formalities, calling all of her classmates by their first name without invitation.
What surprised him more was the lack of any bitterness or trepidation he’d expected to hear in her voice, instead, she sounded cheerful, excited, almost.
“There you are. Care to sit down?” he replied, trying his best to sound unbothered while ignoring the sudden flutter of nervousness in his stomach. The scraping of the chair from across the table told him she did.
“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting, I’m really sorry.”
Are you?
She sounded genuinely apologetic. Suddenly he realised, with another bout of nerves, that this would be the first time they actually had a proper conversation. Without any shouting. She was here for no other reason than to spend time with him, and more importantly, because he asked her to.
Ominis took perhaps a bit too long to answer, but she didn’t seem to notice. It sounded like she was busy taking her textbooks out.
“It’s all right. It’s not like I was just wasting time waiting for you, I was quite busy.” It was almost not a ridiculous lie, considering he’d been busy indeed, desperately craving her company, making a mess of his homework, hoping she’d care enough to show up. He hoped she wouldn’t think too hard about the messy, half empty parchments littering the table.
It wouldn’t be fair to be upset about it. After all, he invited her on short notice and they never agreed on a time to meet.
“I left as soon as I got your owl, but it took me a while to get here,” she sighed, casually pushing aside his mess on the table to make space for her own.
Why? Where have you been?
Obviously not on school grounds.
“Why would that be?” he said, trying his best to sound nonchalant.
“I was near Aranshire.”
“Aranshire? What were you up to over there?” He raised his eyebrow. He knew it was one of the Hamlets, the one close to Hogsmeade station, if he wasn’t mistaken, but he couldn’t judge exactly how far away from the castle it was.
Oh, he had a bad feeling about this, and she, ever so perceptive, noticed.
“Nothing to be concerned about.” she said airily.
She doesn’t trust me.
Ominis knew he shouldn’t hold it against her. They barely knew each other, after all, and yet he couldn’t help the tiny stab of annoyance as she was lying to him yet again. If it had been Sebastian, she would have told him.
Then again, Sebastian had never threatened to get her in trouble with the Headmaster.
“Anyway, on my way back something came up and I looked a bit dishevelled by the end of it, and it took me a while to sort that out. That’s why I’m late. I really am sorry.”
“You looked… dishevelled?”
She hummed in agreement, taking a moment to shuffle around pieces of parchment before answering properly. “Just a bit.”
“You do know I wouldn’t be able to tell,” he said with a smirk.
She laughed, and Ominis was almost disturbed by how much he liked the sound of it.
“Fair enough, I suppose, but others would, and I wouldn‘t want to give anyone a reason to stare, or… talk more about me than they already do.”
Ominis tensed. He’d always been aware and annoyed at how much the entire school seemed to gossip about her, but he’d never considered that she’d know, or how she felt about it. There was an odd sort of undertone in her voice.
He wondered yet again how much she knew, or guessed, about the things others said behind his back, when they thought he was out of earshot, always underestimating his hearing. They were careful when Sebastian was close, but they had no reason to hold back when it was just her.
So was she concerned about what the others might say if they saw them together? For her sake, or for his? He was beginning to feel sick again.
“Why did you look ‘a bit dishevelled’ in the first place?” he asked in an attempt to return to the original subject, and perhaps lighten the mood a bit.
“Well…” she hesitated for a moment. “I had a run in with some spiders.”
Oh no.
“Really, nothing to be concerned about.” She added quickly when he furrowed his brow and opened his mouth to say something.
If he had to guess, this wasn’t the first time something like that had happened- in fact he knew it wasn’t. Dragons, Trolls, Dark Wizards, now this- and Merlin knew what else in between. She almost seemed to enjoy it, always roaming around, curious to see what else she could take on.
That recklessness made him uneasy. He had spent the last four years with another one like that, and the two of them being best friends felt like pouring oil in a fire.
“Are you all right?”
“Of course I am. Nothing a bath and a Wiggenweld potion couldn’t fix,” she reassured him.
So you did get hurt.
Ominis frowned. He couldn’t smell any blood, and didn’t hear any strange whispers when she came in. She also didn’t sound as if she was in any pain, so she most likely wasn’t lying when she said she was fine now. Her having just taken a bath also explained why the scent of her soap was slightly stronger than usual and not mixed with the earthy, piney smell of the forest that always clung to her when she’d been roaming around the highlands.
“Are you all right?” she asked suddenly.
The question caught Ominis by surprise. “Certainly. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You seem a bit tense. If there’s anything I can help you with…”
Even without sight, he could guess she was pausing to look at him expectantly. Merlin, did she think that’s why he asked her to meet him?
“No, I…” There were a lot of things he would have liked to say to her, and yet he couldn’t seem to find the right words.
He had to say something, though, because the silence between them as she waited for Ominis to finish his sentence was starting to feel oppressive.
“I’m fine,” he finally said, suddenly feeling self-conscious about how much he was stressing over what, to her, was a casual conversation she had with dozens of others on an average day.
For Merlin’s sake, they were classmates sitting in the library, making smalltalk.
Time to change the subject.
“Really though, what were you doing out there?” He tried his luck again.
“Just the usual.”
Ominis barely managed to suppress a frustrated sigh. “Which would be…?”
She seemed to consider him for a moment. The building frustration from her annoyingly vague answers must have been evident, and Ominis thought for a split second that he’d pushed too far.
“Nothing too exciting. Chatting to some of the locals. Looking for good spots to collect potion ingredients, that sort of thing.”
“Sharp must be very proud of you.”
She laughed that melodic, infuriatingly infectious laugh of hers, and Ominis was both relieved and grateful that the atmosphere lightened considerably again, even as the annoying git who shushed him earlier made a disapproving noise. If she’d heard it, she’d decided to ignore it, and Ominis was more than happy to follow her lead.
“I’m not doing it to please Professor Sharp, I quite enjoy potion making- unlike some of us,” she teased.
“I don’t-“
“Don’t bother denying it, it’s not like I’m imagining the sour look on your face every time I look at you during Potions.”
So she hadn’t been ignoring him, even after everything that had happened. His insides squirmed pleasantly. Perhaps she was still curious about him, after all.
Ominis cleared his throat.
“So, had any success in finding those potion ingredients?” he asked, awkwardly attempting to keep the conversation going.
“Hmm. I’m running out of Horklump juice, but there weren’t any around. I did find some Ashwinder eggs though, at an abandoned poacher camp nearby,” she rambled on absentmindedly, still shuffling around her pieces of parchment. “I’ve always been curious about them, you know. I’d like to see one someday.”
“I wouldn’t recommend it. They’re dangerous criminals, you know.”
She held back a laugh. “I meant an Ashwinder- as in the creature, not the poachers. I’ve seen quite enough of them.”
“...it was a joke.”
She giggled. “I’ve been thinking about how I always collect their eggs as potion ingredients, but I’ve never actually seen one,” she mused.
Well, they weren’t exactly the sociable sort, even for snakes.
Ominis had met an Ashwinder once, in the gardens behind his family home, after it had slithered out of an abandoned fire his older brother had been playing around with before he’d wandered off, bored. Excited to have someone to talk to, someone who he’d hoped wouldn’t either dismiss him or use the opportunity for some casual cruelty, Ominis had bent down to greet the little snake. It had told him to sod off and slithered away to lay its eggs. Back then, he’d been sulking the whole day over it.
The corners of his lips twitched upwards.
Shame, he thought ruefully. There he actually had a somewhat funny story about the very thing she was interested in, and he couldn’t even tell her. Not without revealing secrets about himself that he’d rather keep tightly guarded.
“Have you ever heard one?” She inquired.
Ominis stiffened instantly. So much for his tightly guarded secrets. He really would have to wring Sebastian’s neck one of these days. “What do you mean by that?”
“I only meant, well…,” she answered sheepishly, “… you obviously wouldn’t have seen one, and I know you have good hearing. Sorry, did I say something wrong?” She was obviously taken aback.
“No, of course not. I’m sorry.” He relaxed. So Sebastian hadn’t told her that, at least. He cleared his throat. “You would have to be lucky to see one. They are born from unattended magical fires and only live for about an hour, barely long enough to lay their eggs.”
“Ah.” She was fumbling with her quill, running her fingers along the feathered edges, from the sound of it, seemingly deep in thought, and thankfully not angry at him for snapping at her. “If they’re born from fires, what are they laying eggs for?”
“I think that’s a question better asked of Professor Howin,” Ominis replied. “You’re the one taking Beasts class, not me.”
“So… could I just make a fire somewhere, ‘unattend’ it and wait for one to come out?”
He gave her an amused snort, not sure if she was being serious. “Are you taking a page out of Peeve’s book, trying to burn down the castle?” Brows furrowed, he still flashed her a warm smile as she had a fit of giggles, and a pleasant warmth spread through his body.
“Perhaps I should take a page out of Peeve’s book, that’d make us even,” she said.
Ominis was waiting for her to explain that rather puzzling statement, but she didn’t.
“Meaning…?”
“Never mind.”
He brushed it off. This was all he’d wanted, sitting together, having a pleasant conversation, laughing about each other’s jokes. And yet it didn’t feel quite right, there was still a wall between them, made up of secrecy and lies.
She finally seemed to have started on her work, the scratching of her quill adding to the symphony of the rustling paper and soft hums and whispers surrounding them.
Apologise for yelling at her about the Undercroft.
Ominis wanted to, he really did, and if he was ever going to, now was the time- but he was still embarrassed just thinking about it and he didn’t want to ruin their first decent conversation by reminding her of how horrible he’d been. It might have been easier to talk about if she was the one to bring it up, and he quietly wondered why she didn’t.
Through the ambient sounds, he heard Madam Scribner get up from behind her desk, about to make a final pass through her sacred halls. Reminding students not to leave a mess, picking unwilling volunteers to tidy the mess of the ones who didn’t listen amongst the stragglers who couldn’t flee fast enough, he was almost tempted to make sure it’d be the two of them.
It wouldn’t be fair, though.
Based on her account of how she’d spent her evening so far and his own idle contemplations, they’d both need to dedicate the remaining hours of the day to schoolwork, and she’d already dropped her previous plans as soon as she received his owl- a courtesy far beyond anything he deserved.
They were out of time.
“We should probably leave.”
There she was, slipping through his fingers again. If only she’d arrived half an hour earlier, maybe he could have gathered his nerve and apologised, at least.
“Wait, weren’t we going to do our homework? I haven’t even started, to be honest.”
Ominis smirked. “The library is about to close, you know. I’ve been here for hours before you came in.” Not that he’d been very productive in that time.
“Oh.” She sounded defeated- and perhaps even a bit disappointed?
That might have been wishful thinking on his part.
“I guess I’ll head back to the common room then. If I’m lucky, Adelaide’s still up and I can copy from her.”
He let out a small chuckle. “Cheating on our assignments, are we?”
“Oh, well. I can’t always be a saint,” she said cheekily.
For a second, Ominis had the urge to walk her back to her common room, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask her. It felt like it would be too much, walking around the castle with her, giving others the opportunity to make assumptions about a relationship that he himself didn’t yet fully understand.
“Well, don’t let me keep you,” he said instead. He gathered his things, ignoring the growing regret and guilt.
“See you, Ominis. And… if you enjoyed my company enough, perhaps we could do this again?”
He felt his cheeks grow hot. “Sure.”
She laughed. “Cheers.”
And just like that, she was gone.
Her scent and her laughter still lingered and he was left wondering what, if anything, this little get together had accomplished.
Ominis could not have known this would be their last proper conversation before the three of them entered the Scriptorium.
more a/n: Before the Scriptorium though, the next chapter will be a little trip down memory lane, featuring the earful Sebastian got for showing her the Undercroft. It’s finally here! I started working on this a while ago, so if you’ve read this far, thank you! Like I kind of hinted at in the beginning, the concept of this fic is basically “what could they have been up to ‘off-screen’, if canon events stay exactly the same” (up to and including the fact that no one ever mentions mc’s name, we’ll see if I live to regret this decision), and I don’t know if that’s interesting to anyone but myself, but I’d be happy if anyone wants to be along for the ride. Writing from Ominis’ pov is a challenge and I try my best to keep in mind that he’s blind when describing things (so don’t expect visual descriptions of anything, ever), but hopefully without constantly drawing attention to it, I hope I managed to do that respectfully and realistically. That said, if anything feels off to you or you have questions, feel free to let me know. And finally, English is not my first language. I proofread and edit everything I write to hell and back but if I still misspelt anything or obviously misused a word, let me know so I can fix it (just be nice about it). There’s a lot more I wanted to put in the authors’ notes but I think it’s already rambly enough, so I’ll leave it at that. Until next time? (I’ve written a few chapters ahead and I’ll try to upload regularly, but realistically, I probably won’t manage it more frequently than once every 1.5 to 2 weeks)
#hogwarts legacy fanfiction#ominis gaunt#ominis x mc#ominis fanfic#ominis gaunt x mc#hogwarts legacy mc#hogwarts legacy#hogwarts legacy fandom#mallow tries to write#WAYDH
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MEANIE! | ryomen s.
↳ ryomen sukuna x f!reader
assigned to be the resident bad boy's lab partner who also happens to be your friend's twin brother? so cliche! loosing your virginity to him? even more cliche! ugh!
18+ Minors DNI!
warnings; university au, mean!sukuna, virgin!shy!reader, sukuna is yuji's twin brother, superr cliche, ooc sukuna, cussing, teasing, dub-con/ish, pet names (good girl, brat, doll, etc.), name-calling (slut, whore, fucktoy), degradation, fingering, ass spanking, biting, nipple play, slight groping, mentions of f!masturbation, size difference, doggy style, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex (sukuna convinces reader to let him hit raw😔🤚🏼), multiple orgasms (2), choking, creampie, breeding kink, yuji catches the two of you🤓, not proofread.
wc; 2.7k
a/n; writing this made me realise how I was not built for this shit p.s this is so horrible but I had to post it because it was supposed to be up yesterday but eh, anyways, I promise the next fic would be a lot better thank you for reading. also lmk if anyone wants to be tagged in these fics !
tags(?); @satocidal <3
A familiar set of pink hair caught your sight, and if you didn't know better, you'd assume it was Yuji. But it wasn't, because you weren't in the cafeteria, waiting for him on a bench, but rather in a class he didn't take. No, It was his brother- Ryomen Sukuna. They looked identical for the most part, except, they often didn't. Where Yuji had a soft face, adored with the biggest smile ever, his brother had a sharp, ink clad face with an ever present scowl on it.
Luck of course wasn't on your side when you got assigned as his partner. Yuji wasn't happy either, because no way in hell would he want you, one of his best friends to be anywhere near his brother. Not like you had a say in any of this, but this project was worth about 40 percent of your grade, and you needed to get an A+ on this one. Your last project went horribly because of your last partner, and you weren't about to let another lazy, or rather intimidating partner let you drag your grades down once again.
Sukuna was sat beside you, occupying nearly 2 whole seats with the way he was spreading his legs. He seemed the least bothered about what the professor was saying, didn't bother to make notes or anything. That automatically meant that you were going to take notes for the both of you.
Great.
Chewing at your pen while the lecture hall filled with low chatter of people talking to their partners, discussing whatever topic they were assigned, on contrary to you and your partner, who was still the least bothered about anything.
Building up the courage to finally talk to him, you turn around to face him, but your attempt to speak up was cut off by his intimidating glare, "You're gonna do all the work, I'll pay you- or whatever. I don't got no time for this shit." He scowled, looking back towards his phone. "I- but-" The words died down in your throat with another look from him.
The class was dismissed soon enough, as he threw his bag over his shoulder, giving you a look that you couldn't quite understand, "Well?" He raised a brow, the way he stared down at you from his height was quite intimidating. And when he put one foot forward, his gaze only became more imposing.
"C'mon, speak up."
"Well-" You took a deep breath, trying to sound a little brave while speaking "Well, what I meant to say is that I can't complete the project by myself- it's way too big, and it's worth like 40 percent of our grade."
"Then I guess you'll fail" He chuckled, bringing his phone out and ignoring whatever else you had to add onto the matter. He did not want to be bothered. He turned to face you, the most threatening thing you could think of was now looking at you, and he had no intentions of moving. It was quite the sight.
You simply backed down, almost shriveling into the little bubble you came out from. Well that was a shit show. No wonder his brother didn't like him. Hell, moments like these made you wonder how the hell him and Yuji are related, moreover, twin brothers.
"What do you expect me to do? Babysit you? You know how to write, how to research, I'm sure you can figure it out." Sukuna grumbled, before returning his eyes to the screen of his phone. He clearly didn't want to be bothered, but he also didn't want to give the dean another reason to get on his ass, so he'd maintain the conversation. For now, atleast.
"I wouldn't have bothered you if I could do it alone-" You stated, chewing on your fingernails "It requires two people, and I don't think I count as two so." The words simply spurted out of your mouth, and you had no idea where you got the confidence to even speak like that in the first place. Maybe it was because you had already decided that it was A+ or nothing, and there was absolutely no way anyone was going to stand between you and your grade.
"Oh? And why can't you do it alone?" Sukuna asked, finally turning his gaze from his phone up to you.
His gaze was almost threatening, as if he was sizing you up. Which he was. After a moment of silence, and a slight shake of his head, "Fine." He said, turning on his heel and walking away. He did not, however, wait for you to follow, even though the way he ended the conversation implied that he wanted you to follow him.
"Oh-" Was it really that easy? Or was there a catch to his agreement. Whatever it was, you were sure you could handle it, but as for now, you quickly stuffed your things in your bag, rushing after him.
"And one more thing" He called over his shoulder, still continuing to walk. His voice sounded stern, unamused. It didn't have the same warmth and softness to it that Yuji had. Sukuna sounded cold, threatening and had a slight edge to it.
"We're not partners. Don't talk to me more than you need to."
"Okay" It wasn't as if you wanted to talk to him either, but it wasn't a big deal to affirm what he had said. "Well? Should we go to the library or somewhere else?" You asked awkwardly, fiddling with the hem of your sweatshirt.
"I do whatever I want, and you're coming with. We're going to study at my place." Sukuna did not go to the library to study- hell, he didn't even study, and definitely not in a pair. He didn't even acknowledge you until you spoke, but you would have to follow anyway. He turned to walk, expecting you to fall in line.
"Alright..." You spoke under your breath, following him back to his house. You had been there a couple of times when you hung out with Yuji, Megumi and Nobara, but you had never seen Sukuna around at that time, and you had a slight hint that most of the times he was out partying, or getting wasted one way or the other.
Atleast that's what Yuji had told you.
His and Yuji's apartment was close to the campus, and that's where you two went. He crept inside the house, removing his shoes at the door and you did the same. The same cold voice spoke once again, and you were left with no choice but to follow him to his room.
The lights were off, and the place was lit by a window that let the sun shine inside.
"You can sit on the bed." Not bothering to say anything else, he threw his bag on the floor, choosing to sit on his desk and working on his PC. Surprisingly, he actually knew what the topic was, and had already collected some material regarding it.
"kay" You nodded, sitting on the edge of the bed as you placed down your bag beside you, taking out your own laptop to work.
The two of you worked in silence, the only sound echoing in the room was the typing sounds of keys, or the occasional sigh that escaped his lips.
He continued, rolling his neck to ease up some tension, he seemed to work in silence, only calling your name when he needed something from you.
After a couple of hours, Sukuna pushed his chair back, stretching his arms out. He had finally finished and it was, rather impressive. Sukuna's writing skills were, to say the least, superb.
"Are you nearly done yet?" He stood up from his chair, walking to stand beside you, leaning down a little to see what you were doing on your screen.
"Yeah, I'm almost done. Could you just mail me everything you've written? I'll compile it and print it out and maybe tomorrow we can work on actually doing the project practically, since we're almost done with the theoretical part?" You spoke in a soft tone, looking at him, waiting for his response.
*He stared back down at you, for about a whole minute, his gaze was almost intimidating. "Check your email." He sighed, standing back straight to stretch his arms once more. You nodded, checking your email just as he asked, only to find the work you needed already there in your inbox. Wasn't he efficient.
"Oh, well, thanks. I think we're done for the day, right? I guess we'll meet tomorrow then?" You acknowledged, before packing up your stuff in your bag, giving him a curt nod, a way of saying 'thank you.' He simply gave you a quick look, probably his way of telling that he heard you. With that, you darted out of his room and towards the font door, without sparing another glance towards him.
As you exited his apartment, you realised that you may or may not have left your phone on his bed. Dreading to face his gaze once more, you needed your phone to get home, so, with sweaty palms, you knock on his door once, waiting for him to open it. The door flew open, with Sukuna's annoyed expression, eyebrows crossed in annoyance, "What the hell do you want now brat?"
"I- I think I left my phone inside." You gulped, and he simply lets out a grunt of annoyance, opening the door just enough for you to slip in, which you do quickly, rushing to his room where you previously sat to find your phone. Luckily, it was easily spotted, kept on the nightstand. You quickly pick it up and pocket it, turning around to find him leaning on the door frame with the same cruel eyes of his.
Refusing to make eye contact with him, you try to swiftly exit the room, but fate had other plans for you. Tripping on whatever invisible obstacle that was placed in your path, you fall. On Sukuna.
A yelp escapes your mouth, thankfully, his reflexes were quick, but not quick enough, causing the two of you to fall on the floor, him taking the most of the collison. You're way to afraid to even open your eyes, because you knew you'd be met with the most deathly glare from the man beneath you. What makes things even worse, you were basically stradling his lap, hands on his chest, and let's not forget- his hands, on your ass. Your cheeks turn crimson at the realisation, as you squeezed you eyes shut, hoping that maybe, somehow a strike of thunder would evaporate you from the world.
You're frozen in place, not being able to do anything as you await the meanest string of cusses ever heard, probably even a shove too, but no. What you hear is much, much scarier. A chuckle. A chuckle from the Ryomen Sukuna. "What's got you blushing like a 'fuckin virgin eh?" His chuckle resonated in the silent room, making heat creep up your entire body. You weren't sure whether it was from embarassment or something entirely different.
"Aw, you like my hands on your ass brat?" He teased further, slightly squeezing your ass in between his hands, eliciting a gasp from your lips, your eyes flowing open, only to see a smug smirl on his face. You were sure at this point, your entire face was red, and maybe, just maybe he was right. You just might like his hands on your ass.
Seeing your reaction, he pushes you so you were properly stradling his lap now, squeezing your ass once more, this time a little harder. "Let me guess- y're a virgin?" He concluded, from the looks you were giving. Was it really that obvious? Well, there's no point in lying anyway. You nod slowly, as he barks out a laugh, causing you to flinch a little, "Fuckin hell," He shook his head, the smirk still on his face, "Your cunt must be fucking tight, hm?"
His words made you shudder, and god you'd be lying if you said his words didn't give you the tingling feeling in your lower stomach. "Hah. Tell me this then, what would happen if i did," He gripped your ass tightly, and without putting in any effort, he lifted you up along with himself, causing you to mewl. Your legs were now hanging beside him, his hands still on your ass as he walked and thre you on his bed, quite a bit violently for your liking.
"W-What are you trying to do?" Your voice came out meekly, but he simply chuckled once more. "let's say; if i were to do, this," He moved closer to you, his hands gripping at your waist, pulling you closer to him, slowly snaking his hands under your shirt, his cold hands feeling electrical on your bare skin as you bit back a hiss, "And then, this," His hands were moving up and down your waist, inching closer and closer to the hem of your bra, "Do you like this?" He smirked, now enveloping his finger around your waist, pulling you in a way that you were laying on you back, with him on top of you.
Fuck him and his annoying, good looking, smug face. You never found him to be even remotely attractive before, so why were you dripping in your panties then? Was it your touch-deprived brain feel so turned on from finally being touched by someone else other than your own fingers? Probably.
Almost like he could read your mind, his skilled fingers traveled to the hem of your pants, raising his eyebrows, his way of asking if you wanted it. Not a single word came out of your mouth, breath hitching in your throat. You weren't sure yourself, whether you wanted this or not, but he took your silence as approval, pulling down your pants in an instant, followed by the removal of your shirt as well. It all happened so quickly that there was no time to process it, before his tongue was inside your mouth, while his hands roamed around your underwear clad body. You moaned softly in the kiss, his experienced lips guiding your own, his tongue exploring your mouth. Messy, sloppy and rough. He didn't stop kissing you, wanting to go on forever.
He breaks the kiss, a string of saliva connecting both of your lips and the sight makes the sensation in your lower stomach even stronger, feeling yourself growing wetter and wetter every moment.
You want to say something, anything at all, but you trail off, your throat feeling dry when his fingers tease along the line of your jaw, down to your chin. Tipping it up, he leans in and leaves a warm kiss on your throat, trailing lower, lower and lower until he reaches the valley of your breasts, fingers travelling to your back to unclasp the hook of the bra, throwing it away somewhere along the rest of your clothes. He bites down on the sensitive skin just about your left nipple, before lapping it with his tongue. His free hand plays with your other nipple pinching and pulling at it.
Each and every action he does causes a new sound to erupt from deep within you, the way you responded made him go wild. There was just something about virgins that made him lose his mind. The way they responded from just the slightest touch- or how wet their cunts get from just kissing. But he'd have to admit, you were his favorite by far. It wasn't just you that responded to him, it was your whole body, wanting more and more from him. He loved it.
His fingers brush over your clothed folds before he cups your mound. Grinding the heel of his palm against you gently, you roll your hips up into his touch, rubbing against his hand, "God.. Do you feel that doll, feel how soaked you are? getting my hand wet by just rubbing it over your pantie, tch, I bet you'd stain my sheets from just how wet this little pussy is." Closing your eyes shut at his words, you feel yourself leaning more and more into his touch, wanting nothing more than for him to touch you, directly.
Eager pants leave you when his fingers teasingly dip between your folds through the thin material of your panties. The fabric is damp already and as he teases you with touches that are entirely too gentle for your rising desperation, you find yourself whining under his cruel touch. He simply chuckles, "tch, now, now, it's not nice to get all eager, you should be thankful to me." His actions get more cruel, as he does nothing but play with your folds from over the fabric.
Satisfied with how you’re whining underneath him, he slides his fingers to the hem of your panties, pulling them down with a snap against your skin, retreating to keep them in the drawer of his bedside stand. The air hits your wet cunt, causing you to shiver, as you push yourself on your elbows, watching him look at your cunt with greedy eyes. Spreading your legs further apart, two of his fingers dip into your hole and he is pleased to find it welcoming him into your tight heat. A loud moan slips past your lips, as you feel his fingers dip inside you.
This was way better than any time when you had touched yourself on your own, his two fingers stretching you out better than anything. The length of his fingers caused you to jerk, feeling the slightest bit of pain from how long and thick they were, small tears forming in the corner of your eyes "Shitttt look at you" He grunts, and you look up at him, only to see him palming the tent in his pants, "You're nearly crying from my fingers, how are you gonna take my cock doll?" He chuckles cruelly, picking up the pace of his fingers inside you.
Your walls pulse around him and you arch your body into him when he curls the digits up and rubs exploratively within your pussy, trying to find the spot that makes you see stars.
He's too rough, adding a third finger and pushes all three of them into you down to the knuckle. This tears a gasp from your throat and you buck your hips up into his touch, over and over again, as you feel the strength leave your legs. You were seeing stars now, eyes closed shut, gasps and moans leaving your mouth. He loved the sight, continuing his pace, the knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter.
"Su-Sukuna, 'm gonna cum-!" Your fingers grip the sheets beside you, your entire body shaking from the intensity and quickness of his fingers, moaning his name over and over again, "Good girl, good fucking girl, cum for me" He smirks, adding his thumb to rub circles on your clit, a yelp flies from your mouth as you're a sweaty mess under his touch. With a few more pumps from his fingers, you're yelling out his name, knuckles white from how hard you had been gripping the sheets as he guides you through your high, the intense wave of pleasure hitting hard, head hitting the plush mattress as your arms give out, and everything seemed a little dizzy around you.
He retreats his fingers, causing your cunt to clench around nothing. You hear him zipping down his pants, chuckling dryly. "Cmon slut, I ain't done with you yet." His hands grab at your waist, flipping you over so that your head was pressed against the mattress, and your ass was facing him. Huffing, you turn around to see him, eyes widening when you're met with the sight of his cock instead.
It was long, not too long but longer than the average one you saw in porn. He was girthy too, multiple veins running down to the tip of dick. The tip was flushed red, leaking with pre-cum, his hand grabbing the base of it. What caught your eye was that the tattoos that decorated his entire body ended just where his dick started.
"Aren't you going to use a- a condom?" You objected, slightly biting your lip. He simply scoffs, "Trust me, you don't want to use a condom for your first time doll, it's just more painful." He shrugs, his finger collecting the pre cum from his tip before pumping his hand up and down on his entire length. He looks at you with his eyebrows raised and a slight pout, "If you're that worried I'll buy you morning after pills alright?" He sighs, before aligning the tip of his cock with your already sensitive cunt, causing you to shiver.
One of his hands holds your waist, while the other grips your ass, slapping it twice and kneading the soft flesh, before he starts pushing more and more of his dick inside you, grunting every time your walls pulse around him.
You're holding back tears from how painful it was feeling, biting down on your lip hard enough to draw some blood. He notices how tense you are, massaging the small of your back, "Relax, it's going to be worse if you're tensed up, brat." His grip tightened against your hip, and just when he was almost inside you, he bottomed out, pulling your hips to meet his torso, eliciting a loud cry from you, and a drawled out grunt from him.
*"Fuck you're so tight" He moans, throwing his head back, giving you a moment to adjust to his length, tears spilling from your eyes. Carefully, he starts moving. You lean your head back, your jaw dropping open and a moan leaving your throat. The way his cock stretches your walls out, pain and pleasure are mixed together, "'s to big sukuna!" He ignores your cries, gripping tightly against your hit as he starts to pick up his pace, the pain slowly turning into a pleasurable feeling.
He pulls back totally, leaving only the tip inside your cunt before ramming inside. You cry out with pleasure, clenching your walls around his cock as he thrusts in and out of your pussy with no mercy. His hand which was previously gripping your waist grabs your left tit, groping and pawing at it, pinching the nipple over and over again. The bed shakes underneath you and sounds of skin slapping against each other resonate in the room. The scene was so lewd, your pussy making squelching sounds every time he thrusts a little harder, hitting the sweet spot within you.
Every so often the squelching nosies of your pussy can be heard as Sukuna thrusts his cock inside of you. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, mouth gaping open as loud moans and whimpers leave your throat. He was too rough, too rough to be your first time, but there was this thrill you got every time he bullied past your walls, hitting deep inside you.
He grunts, his fingers trailing up your back and to the nape of your neck, before he grips it hard, pulling you back so that your back was against his chest. His hand now held your throat from the front, and the new angle made you feel that he was inside your stomach, thrusting harder and harder.
Sukuna watches as his cock slides in and out of you, filling you up with pleasure. Sinful whimpers and cries leave your throat, strained from the hand wrapped around your throat. He could get used to the scene, watching how your tits bounced up and down with every mean thrust of his, how your hands desperately tried to find something to grab a hold of. Oh how he loved this.
You moan, feeling your mind shut from the pleasure, and how strongly the feeling of pleasure was creeping up. You were going to come again, "Sukuna ah- ah shit! I'm- I'm gonna come!"
"Not yet" He grunts, breath fanning over your ear as his thrusts become sloppier, "Not yet" his words are drawled out, "Gonna fill you up, yeah, take it like the good whore you are mhm?" He whispers, licking your ear and nearly sending you over the edge, "Sukuna pl-please! I-I need to-" "Shit- fuck, cum on my dick then" You felt hot, sticky ropes of his cum filling you up, as he thrusts once more, feeling everything empty out in you.
It's a lot, oozing out from your sore, abused cunt. The two of you pant heavily, His fingertips give your throat a light squeeze as he starts to roll his hips back, and you drop to the mattress, feeling more than euphoric, stars, moons, the entire universe clouding your thoughts. You were on cloud 9, even though your core was still shaking, even if he had fucked his cum deep inside you. It didn't matter, it was all too ecstatic, the daze you felt better than any high anyone could have ever experienced. You heard him chuckle, feeling his hands press on your worn out and shaky thighs, almost as if massaging the sore muscles.
It's bad to set expectations from him though, because all he did was use his thumb to collect his cum that leaked out of your hole to your thighs, pushing it all back inside. Giving your ass one last slap he stood up, and got dressed in just his sweatpants, and just then, you heard your name being called.
Your eyes widen as you realise who it was, turning around to see Yuji standing in the doorway, his eyes wide and an expression of disgust on his face.
"Get out you measly brat" Sukuna groaned, pushing his hair back before slamming the door in poor Yuji's face.
This just got a lot awkward, didn't it?
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#ryomen sukuna#sukuna ryomen smut#sukuna jjk#sukuna x reader#sukuna#jjk ryomen
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Unwanted: Chapter 20, Uninhibited - Pt. 2
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, alcohol consumption, drug use, dirty dancing, questionable choices.
Word Count: 3.1k
Previously On...: You're still throwing up :(
A/N: BRING ON THE BAD DECISIONS!
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when I update, please enable notifications from my Blog page!
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
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"How do I look?" you asked Wanda and Nat as you came out of your bathroom in your outfit for the party. When Tony had told you your party was going to be 90s themed, you'd been over the moon, since the last time you had a birthday party was probably actually in the 90s. Yes, you'd all gone out for drinks and dancing when you turned 21, and then for a fancy dinner when you turned 30, but it was the first time you'd actually given in to Tony's pleading to let him throw you an actual party, and he was pulling out all the stops, so you wanted to make sure you looked your best. And if looking your best happened to stick it to a certain super soldier, well, that was just a bonus.
"Oh my God," said Nat at the same time Wanda whispered "Holy shit." You were wearing a black leather mini skirt with thigh-high boots and a navy and silver handkerchief top that barely covered your tits. You'd curled your long hair into loose, beachy waves and Nat had done your makeup.
"You look like a fucking seductress," Nat nodded in appreciation.
"Barnes is not going to know what hit him," Wanda concurred.
"If Barnes knows what's good for him," you replied, putting in a pair of large silver hoop earrings and checking out how they looked in the mirror, "he won't even show up tonight. Besides, I only have two goals for the evening: Celebrating my birthday with my best friends and; Getting over one man by getting under another one."
"Amen to that!" Nat cheered, raising a glass of pre-game champagne Tony had delivered to your suite. "Tonight, you flirt with anything that has a penis." Catching Wanda's pointed expression, she added "Anything that has a penis that is not already committed to another vagina." Wanda smiled appreciatively.
"Please, Natty" you said, grabbing your own glass of champagne and toasting with her, "tonight, I'm flirting with anything that has a pulse."
"That's my girl!" Nat wrapped an arm around you and squeezed. You would have fun tonight, Bucky Barnes be damned.
You could hear the thumping of the bass long before you reached the doors of the banquet hall. The party was already in full swing. Before you entered, though, Nat grabbed onto your elbow and palmed something into your hand.
"Happy Birthday, Pocket," she said with a wink, before letting you go and allowing you to open your palm. Nestled inside was a small, white pill.
"Nat!" hissed Wanda as loudly as she could to be heard over the bass, "did you just hand Pocket drugs?!"
"Relax, Wanda," Nat said, rubbing the other girl's arm. Turning to you, she added "It's just some molly. Take it if Barnes shows up and you need to manufacture yourself a bit more fun, that's all." And she threw you a wink. "Just don't tell Mom and Dad."
"Thanks, Natty, but, if anything," you said with a smile, putting the little pill in your pocket in case you needed it later, "Tony'll be pissed you didn't bring enough for the whole class." You hoped you weren't going to need it, but it was rather comforting having it on hand. You hadn't done MDMA in years, and the idea of taking it again was thrilling.
"Fine," said Wanda, and you could both tell she wasn't thrilled with your actions. "Let's just go inside and have a good time, okay?" The three of you linked arms and made your way through the doors to the banquet hall.
It had been positively transformed. Usually, it was the place where Tony held his fancy dinners for visiting heads of state who wanted a look at what the Avengers did all day, tonight it had become a rave out of a fairy tale. There were bubble machines sending cascades of multi-colored bubbles through the air, everyone dancing with glow-sticks, and a DJ booth hung suspended from the ceiling. Tony had brought in what you suspected were real trees and had decked them out with twinkling fairy lights; there was even a fountain in the middle of the dance floor. It was something straight out of your dreams.
The room was crawling with hundreds of people. Most of them you vaguely recognized as people who worked in various positions in the Tower, some old colleagues from Stark Industries, and friends from outside of work, but scattered throughout were the members of your family. You spotted Clint and Laura dancing together in a corner of the dance floor while Nirvana's About a Girl blared, Sam flirting with three different women at the same time, and Thor over by the bar with Steve, a bottle of Asgardian liquor being passed around between them. Maria Hill was sitting in a lounge chair talking with Helen Cho and Vision. You were pleased to see neither Bucky nor Jade in your initial sweep of the room. With any luck, they wouldn’t have the balls to show their faces.
"This is incredible," you murmured, though you were sure neither of your friends heard you over the roar of the music. No one had noticed you'd arrived just yet, so you took the moment of anonymity to just soak it all in. Tony and Pepper had done all of this for you. You couldn't think about it for too long, or you would start to cry right there. They weren't connected to you by blood, but they loved you better than your real family ever had, and you were struck with an overwhelming surge of gratitude and appreciation for them both.
"Oh no!" Nat shouted over to Wanda. "She's getting misty-eyed! We need to get her a drink, STAT!"
You laughed as your two best friends dragged you to the bar. As you entered the throng, people began converging on you, wishing you a Happy Birthday and giving you more hugs than you'd probably ever received in your entire life. It was impossible to not feel the absolute love that came from everyone around you. You nearly toppled over when Wanda pointed out the giant table of presents that sat, waiting for you, in the far corner of the room. Never in your entire life had you felt so appreciated, and coming on the heels of how Bucky had discarded you, you felt your heart soar with love for all of these amazing people.
At the bar, you caught the attention of Thor and Steve, the latter doing a double take at the sight of you. Thor immediately enveloped you in a bear hug, his massive arms dwarfing your body as he picked you up.
"Happy Birthday, my Lady Pocket," he bellowed, planting a loud, sloppy kiss on your cheek. "I would offer you some of my Asgardian mead in celebration, but I fear it would be far too potent for your tiny human body to handle. I would not want to be responsible for your death on this day we celebrate your life."
"Thanks, Thor," you said as he finally put you back down, "I'm fine with good old Earth alcohol tonight."
The bartender handed you a frozen drink without your asking. "It's tonight's signature cocktail," he responded to your confused expression. "The Plum Pocket." Your face soured. The Plum Pocket was a drink you'd invented for Bucky months and months ago. Half of a plum because he loved the taste of them so much, strawberries, (because you loved them), raspberry liquor, lemon syrup, vodka, and a bit of sugar blended with ice into an almost smoothie-like consistency, with some lemon zest for garnish. How would Tony even know about them?
No, you were not going to think about Bucky Barnes tonight. You were going to enjoy your drink, dance, and get your flirt on. In that order. There was no room on tonight's agenda for wallowing in self pity over someone who didn't give a shit about you enough to keep his dick in his pants.
You took a sip. It was damned delicious.
"Hey," a soft voice spoke to you over your shoulder. You turned and looked up into Steve's face. His eyes were slightly glassy.
"Enjoying that Asgardian mead, Cap?" you asked with a teasing grin.
He smiled, a flush creeping up his cheeks at being called out. "Happy Birthday, Pocket. I um... I wanted to tell you, you look really pretty tonight."
The compliment took you aback. You didn't think Steve had ever complimented you on your looks before. He must be far more drunk than you first thought. "Thanks, Steve," you responded with a smile. "I'm glad you're here."
"I'm glad you're here," he murmured.
Before you could say anything else to him, there was a drop in the music, and a spotlight lit up Tony Stark in the DJ booth, dressed in his full Iron Man glory.
"Ladies and gentlemen, distinguished guests, and the handful of people who accidentally wandered in from the fury convention," Tony began, his amplified voice carrying over the crowd, "welcome to the party of the century! I want to thank all of you for coming here tonight to celebrate someone very special to me, to all of us. She's like the kid sister I never wanted, in that now that I've got her, I couldn't get rid of her even if I tried." The crowd laughed and you hid your face in your hands. "Fortunately, I like having her around too much. She's got a brilliant mind, she's funny as hell, and she's the beating heart of this team. Without her, the Avengers would just be a group of coworkers, and not a family. And let's be honest, she's one of the few people who's willing to tolerate me on a daily basis." Somehow, his eyes were able to find yours in the crowd and he gave you a classic Tony wink; you blew him a kiss back. "So, everyone, please raise a glass to (Y/N) (Y/L/N), or as we like to call her, our own little Pocket! Pocket, Happy Birthday, kiddo! We love you! So, everyone, grab a drink, don't hold back on the dance floor, because, let's face it, I spent a fortune on hiring the best DJ in New York City, and let's make some bad decisions! Except for you, Parker. Jesus is watching."
Through the crowd you could just make out Peter's soft voice saying "Aw, come on Mr. Stark," and you broke into laughter. God, you loved these people.
"Let's go," said Nat, grabbing you by the arm and hauling you to the middle of the dance floor, "it's time to dance!"
The beats were dirty and your body responded to them like a siren's call, your hips moving subconsciously to the rhythm. Dancing was one of your favorite ways to lose yourself, and so you did, melting into the sound, letting your body take you wherever it needed to go. You felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist, and you instinctively knew it was Natasha behind you.
"Bruce not coming out to the floor?" you whisper-shouted into her ear as she moved her body against yours.
"No, he's being a dullard," Nat responded with a sigh.
"Give him time," you told her knowingly. "Once he's been watching you move your ass out here long enough, he'll cave just so he can get his hands on you. He always does."
"I know," she said, grinding her chest against your back, "but I do love giving him a show."
You laughed and continued dancing with your friend. You knew Bruce would come to her eventually. The poor man couldn't stay away, no matter how hard he'd tried in the beginning.
Slowly, the members of your little family found their way to you on the dance floor, and you were all dancing together in a group. Even Bruce had gotten over himself and had finally joined Natasha, who was now running her hands along his chest.
You had to admit, you were having the time of your life.
But then you saw them.
Bucky stood at the bar, Jade not far away. You tried to ignore him, you really did, but his eyes were boring a hole straight through you, and he looked amazing. He was wearing a pair of tight black jeans and the shirt you had gotten him last Christmas, the one that matched the color of his eyes. He'd cut his hair again, just the length you liked it-- the perfect length for pulling while he had his face buried between your-- No. You were NOT going to think about that.
Wanda had moved away from where she'd been dancing with Vision and came over to you, following the line of your eyes. "He has a lot of fucking nerve showing up here with her," she spat. "Do you want me to kick them out of here for you, love?"
You turned and wrapped your arms around her, smiling at her fierce protectiveness of you. "As much as I would love to see it, Wan, it's okay. I think I just want to pretend he doesn't exist and keep dancing. The last thing I need is them ruining my party by bringing more drama into my life."
Wanda put a hand on your elbow and shrugged, then leaned in to whisper "Suit yourself, but my offer still stands if you change your mind," before heading back over to Vision. You sighed, disappointed that the sight of him had dulled your excitement for the evening. But then you remembered Nat's gift.
Reaching into your pocket, you pulled out the tiny pill. You considered your options for half a second before tossing it into your mouth and swallowing it. You were not going to let Bucky Fucking Barnes ruin your birthday.
A couple of hours later, after an enormous cake had been brought out, everyone singing to you and you blowing out your candles, you were feeling positively euphoric. Everything felt amazing. You were so in love with every single person in the room, you could cry. Your limbs were buzzing, as if the music was vibrating through them and your entire body was being poured full of liquid joy. You were connected to everyone. They were all a part of you, and you were a part of them.
You moved to the music, your hands caressing up and down your body, the sensation of touch almost overpowering in its intensity. You practically moaned when Natasha leaned over and whispered in your ear:
"Don't look now, but Steve's been staring at you for the last twenty minutes." You glanced over and noticed the super soldier standing at the bar next to Bucky, but in the clarity of the MDMA, Steve was all you could see. He was watching you intently, his eyes locked on the movement of your hips. You watched him lick his lips as your hands brushed across your chest, sending a wave of shivering pleasure through your body.
You didn't know why, but suddenly, it seemed like a really, really good idea to have Steve come dance with you, so you caught his eye and beckoned him over with a curl of your finger.
You laughed when you saw his eyes grow wide with surprise. He pointed at himself, as if he couldn't believe you were beckoning to him. You nodded and, chugging the rest of his drink before leaving the empty glass on the bar, he made his way to you.
"Hi," he said over the sound of the music when he was standing in front of you. God, he was so much taller than you were. Like a giant. Sublime's Badfish began to play.
"Hi," you hummed, the feelings of ecstasy pulsating through you. "Do you want to dance with me?" You watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard.
"Very much," he said, so softly that you wouldn't have been able to make it out if you hadn't read his lips. "But I don't really know how to dance to this music."
"I can teach you," you smiled up at him. Turning around, you put your back to his chest. Grabbing his left arm, you wrapped it across your bare stomach, splaying his fingers across your scorching skin. You put his right hand on your hip and let out a soft moan when he squeezed your flesh.
"Just move with me," you whispered, knowing that his enhanced hearing would catch your words through all the extra noise. Your entire body was pressed against his now, and the feeling of his hard muscles against you was sensational. You never wanted him to stop touching you. You slowly started grinding your hips against him, laughing a little when you heard him gasp. He began sliding his hand across your stomach, once or twice brushing the underside of your breasts with his thumb. Each touch was like a wave of light pulsating through you and you craved it. You could feel the length of his semi-hard erection pressing into your back, and somewhere in the far recesses of your mind, the idea of it surprised and concerned you, but in your current state, all you could do was feel. And you felt so. god. damned. good.
You leaned your head back against his chest, reaching back to grab a hold of his bicep and exposing the curve of your neck, and when he reached down and began planting small butterfly kisses where your neck met your shoulder, you thought you were going to come undone right there.
"You're so beautiful, Pocket," he whispered before taking your earlobe between his teeth and nibbling on it. Everything he did, everywhere your bodies connected, felt like pure magic.
You noticed the looks that you were getting from Nat, Wanda, and the others, but you didn't register them. The only thing that mattered right now was how good you felt, how good Steve was making you feel.
You weren't sure how much time went by. The songs changed, your tempo fluctuated, the people around you came and went, but the contact remained the same.
Finally, you turned yourself around in his arms, pressing your chest to his. He looked down at you, the blue of his eyes a mere ring around the black of his pupils.
"Stevie," you whispered, your voice husky, "will you take me back to my room?"
His lips curled up in a wicked grin and for the briefest of moments, you saw Bucky in your mind's eye, but you quickly shook the image away. Steve took you by the hand and, without another word, led you away from the party to the solitude of your bedroom.
<- Previous Part / Next Chapter ->
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x you#bucky x reader#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#james bucky buchanan barnes#james buchanan barnes#mcu bucky barnes#james barnes
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Hangman's Joke: An Eddie Munson x Reader Halloween Special (The Crow AU) Part One
Collage by me :)
Masterlist
A/N: It's finally here, guys! I hope you all enjoy, I worked very hard on this one! And I have to thank @keikoraven for being the best beta reader in the world! I still have two parts to write, but I am ecstatic to get spooky season going!
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Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: swearing, fem!reader, brief mentions of sex, mentions of sexual abuse/ritual abuse/child abuse, violence, blood, character death, murder, smoking, alcohol use, use of homophobic language, grief, angst, mentions of dead animals, mentions of threats, subjects concerning satanic panic
Word Count: 8.2k
divider by @strangergraphics
Part One
“People once believed that when someone dies, a crow carries their soul to the land of the dead. But sometimes, something so bad happens that a terrible sadness is carried with it and the soul can't rest. Then sometimes, just sometimes, the crow can bring that soul back to put the wrong things right.”
October 30th, 1991
Hopper steps out into the crisp fall night, the air biting its way under the collar of his windbreaker. He shoves the door to his vehicle closed, flicking the ash of his cigarette with his other hand. “How bad is it?” He asks as Callahan and Powell approach him. There’s four other police vehicles parked out front of the Crystal Ridge apartment complex, the berries and cherries flashing across every surface in a choppy swirl of light and dark. Unmasked disgust reads on every officer’s face, though Hopper isn’t sure if it’s regarding the scene, or who the victims are inside.
“Well, it’s not good. And it’s certainly not going to ease any of the tension in town.” Powell replies with a sigh, shaking his head.
“No shit.” Hopper says flatly, tossing his half-smoked cig away. He walks toward the building, going up the front steps and down the hall until he finds the unit cordoned off with police tape. A few more officers are inside, snapping photos of the carnage, as well as snickering amongst themselves about ‘amusing’ items they find in the residence. All nudging elbows and scrutinizing fingers pointed at books and figurines on nearby shelves or tables, nevermind the bodies lying in the middle of the living room floor. “Something funny here, boys? Last I checked, murder isn't a goddamn joke.” Hopper barks, the mouths of his lower officers clapping shut all at the same time, their eyes widening at being caught in such an immature display. They resume their work in silence, snapping photographs of blood splatters and discarded weapons.
Hopper takes in the scene, focusing his attention on the victims first, as one should in these situations. Eddie and Y/N Munson, aged twenty-five and twenty-three, respectively. Married for two years, hopelessly in love since Hopper first caught them necking in Roane County Cemetery back in the fall of ‘82. Eddie, known to the Chief as the town’s resident metalhead and small-time drug dealer. Despite his intimidating exterior, Hopper knew he was a good kid who just happened to get into a bit of trouble every now and again. It made him rather proud to see Munson turn it around once he graduated in ‘86, becoming a mentor for troubled Hawkins youth with his Hellfire D&D Club.
And then there was Y/N, the Bonnie to Eddie’s Clyde. Dressed from head to toe in black leather seemingly since birth, paired with the sweetest, most welcoming smile. Hopper recalls the times she’d cover for Eddie whenever he got busted, and how easily he let them both go. A small twinge of reminiscence tugs the corner of his lip up, but only for a moment. Y/N became a librarian, encouraging the youngsters of the town to embrace literature and expand their developing minds. The kids absolutely adored her, like a spooky big sister who always had their back. There’s sure to be thousands of tiny tears when the news breaks tomorrow.
To see what’s now become of possibly the kindest people in Hawkins he’s ever known, it truly makes Hopper’s heart ache. He gazes upon their bodies, an unwelcome sting coming to his eyes. His pupils dart from place to place, unable to settle on any singular gruesome detail for too long. Their clothes are torn to shreds. Their limbs are splayed about in an eerily doll-like fashion, though their hands meet in the middle, as if to hold one another one last time. Thick, angry slashes and stabs puncture their skin. Clotting blood soaks the remnants of fabric and pools into the carpet below. Their eyes haven’t clouded over just yet, looking as if they’ll spring to life with a hearty laugh any moment now. Surely, they’ll sit up and shout ‘GOTCHA!’, revealing that this was all some twisted Halloween prank. Hopper hopes for it, even prays for it a moment. But the relief he wants never comes. There’s no bright blinking eyes, or smiling mouths, or their matching infectious laughter. It’s all been snuffed out of them completely.
A sudden choked gasp breaks the monotonous click and whirr of crime scene cameras, and a bloodied arm snatches at Hopper’s ankle. “Holy shit!” Jim yelps, wondering if his wish actually came true. His eyes snap to where the sound came from, finding Eddie gasping for air on the floor as a small trickle of blood flows from his mouth.
“H-Hop?” Eddie wheezes, his features frightened and confused. His thick curls stick to his cheeks in nests of coagulated crimson. Numerous cuts are visible on his chin, forehead, and just below his eyes.
“I’m here, kid. It’s gonna be okay.” Hopper replies, kneeling beside the young man. Eddie’s in real bad shape, so this promise is probably a lie. “We got a live one, boys! Get a medic in here!” Jim yells, snapping the other officers, who have been watching on in horror, into action. “We’re gonna get you outta here, kid.” Hopper takes hold of Eddie’s shaking hand, doing his best to comfort him.
“Where’s Y/N?” Eddie gargles out, trying to turn his head. Just as Hopper is about to lie to the young man again, the EMTs come in with a stretcher to wheel him out of here.
“She’ll be right behind you, Eddie. You’re both gonna be fine.” Jim reassures him, squeezing his hand, noticing the rapidly weakening grip of it. Not much longer now, he thinks. At least his pain will be over soon. The medics roll Eddie away, disappearing down the hall of the complex to reach the ambulance.
“You lied to him, didn’t you?” A redheaded girl says in the doorway, tears streaming down her cheeks. Max Mayfield, another familiar face.
“You shouldn’t be here.” Hopper replies, stepping to the right to shield her young eyes from Y/N’s corpse. He remembers seeing Max with the Munsons quite often, having formed a special relationship with them. Her own home life hasn’t exactly been peachy since she moved to Hawkins with her parents and stepbrother. Said inherited sibling has always been bad news, causing Hopper nothing but trouble for the last few years.
“I know. I saw the cars outside, and I know what people in town have said about the Munsons. But they aren’t like that…devil worshippers, or whatever.” Max states, rolling her eyes at the baseless accusation she’s heard thrown their way hundreds of times.
“I know that, kid.” Hopper sighs, stepping closer to her.
“She’s dead, right?” Max asks, looking down at her feet. Tears drip onto the tips of her converse, though she keeps the sobs inside.
“Yeah. I’m sorry.” Jim answers, no need for polite truth-twisting now.
“Can I…say goodbye?” Max lifts her head up again, brushing a stray hair that’s escaped her ponytail behind her ear.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Hopper shakes his head, stepping closer to lead the girl away from the bloody mess. “C’mon, I’ll give you a ride home.” He offers.
“Okay. Thanks.” She nods, not bothering to sneak a morbid glance behind her as they walk down the hallway. They make their way outside, bypassing the other officers.
“Where you off to, Chief?” Callahan pipes up.
“I’ll be back, just dropping Ms. Mayfield at home first.” Jim answers without turning back, opening the passenger door to let the child hop inside. He closes it after her, going over to his side. “Maybe secure the perimeter properly before I get back, hm?” He suggests gruffly to his subordinate.
“You got it, sir.” Callahan chuckles dryly, rubbing his neck in embarrassment. “Hey.” He lightly smacks Powell on the chest as Hopper pulls out of the lot of the complex. “Secure the perimeter.” He orders unseriously, earning a scoff from his fellow officer.
“Give me orders again, and you can secure my foot in your ass.” Powell laughs, going about his business.
The drive to the Mayfield-Hargrove household is a quiet one, almost painfully so. Max is slumped in her seat, staring out the window at all the places her surrogate parents will no longer be able to visit or ride past on their motorcycle. The record store where they bought every piece of their extensive metal collection, of which they let Max borrow from whenever she liked. The ice cream shop they’d take her to after a nasty day at school or big fight at home. The cemetery where Y/N taught her how to do grave rubbings. She supposes they’ll both be buried there within a few days. At least I’ll be able to visit them again, she thinks, cursing herself for such a selfish thought. More tears pour from her eyes, hot and stinging. She sniffles, trying to hide the evidence on the sleeve of her hoodie.
“Here.” Hopper reaches over, popping open the glove compartment to reveal a collection of napkins from various fast food joints.
“Thanks.” Max says softly, reaches for a few of the napkins, closing the compartment afterwards. She wipes her eyes, blowing her nose. “I’m sorry for sneaking in. I just had to be sure.”
“Sure of what?” Jim asks, finding her phrasing rather odd. Like she knows something.
“Well, you know how this town’s treated them. The comments they got, the threats.” Max fiddles with her crumpled tissue.
“Sure do.” Hopper agrees.
“I’ve heard Billy talking about them a lot. The same satanic crap everyone else does, at first.” She pauses, further drawing Hopper’s attention. He glances at her, finding the napkin becoming shredded to pieces in her hands now. “But lately, I’d been hearing him talk with his friends about…’taking care’ of them. You know what I mean?” She looks at him now, appearing far more afraid than she did when Eddie was being carted away in his near-dead state.
“I do.” He nods, and her shoulders relax a little, as if she’s relieved to have someone believe her. It certainly isn’t outside of the realm of possibility that Billy had something to do with this, though Hopper highly doubts the little fucker acted alone. He almost never does when it comes to starting trouble. His shithead entourage is usually right on his heels at every wrong turn. Steve Harrington, Tommy Hagan, and Jason Carver. The four of them have spent their entire collective time in Hawkins wreaking all sorts of havoc. Drunken parties, even drunker fights, vandalizing police vehicles, getting frisky with nearly every young lady in town in various public venues. You name it, and those four have been busted doing it. Unfortunately, their status in town almost guarantees they never see as much as a few scant hours of community service. Hopper worries that brutal murder may soon be added to that list.
“Do you think he…did it?” Max asks, a mix of disbelief and realized terror in her voice.
“I don’t know, kid.” He replies as he pulls up to her house. “But, it’s my job to find out. Don’t you worry, I’m gonna catch whoever did this.” He says with resolve, hoping to bring the girl some comfort.
“I hope so. Doesn’t seem like anybody else wants to.” She says sadly, recalling how uncaring the other cops looked when she snuck past them in her quest to confirm the worst.
“Well, they don’t have much choice, since I’m in charge.” He laughs, earning a small giggle from Max as well. “Now, get inside. I’m sure your mom’s worried sick.”
“Probably.” She rolls her eyes. “Thanks for the ride, Hop. And for helping the Munsons.” She smiles at him, and he returns it. Max hops out of the car, and Hopper waits for her to make it inside before pulling away. He catches a small glimpse of Billy in the window, who’s wearing a far more smug smirk than usual.
“I’ve got my work cut out for me.” He sighs, pulling out a fresh smoke as he drives back to the crime scene.
“Where the hell were you?” Billy asks as Max comes into the house, shedding her damp jacket and setting her skateboard by the door.
“Nowhere.” She answers softly, hoping to avoid an altercation.
“Bullshit. Why the fuck was the pig Chief dropping you off?” He snarls, more than ready to take out the reaming he received from his father earlier tonight on Max.
“I was just…out. It started to rain, so Hop offered me a ride.” She rolls her eyes and shrugs, beginning to walk away towards her room.
“You went to see if those freaks were dead, didn’t you?” He asks cruelly, following her.
“They weren’t freaks! They were my friends!” Max snaps, turning to face her brother in the doorway.
“You know what they did, Max! They hurt that kid Pete Howell, made him do all sorts of fucked up satanic shit! Everyone in town knows about it!” Billy yells, stalking over to get in her face.
“That’s a lie and you know it! The Munsons would never do that! To anyone!” She shrieks back, taking a step forward. Billy looms over her, fury in his eyes.
“We all saw the bruises, Maxine! And other kids came forward, too! Eddie made all those Hellfire kids drink his blood and touch each other for his rituals! And don’t even get me started on that bitch, Y/N!” He continues to spew lies in a fervent rant, spit flying from his lips. “She gave kids books about witchcraft, encouraging them to put evil spells on each other and sacrifice their pets! I can’t even imagine what messed up shit those two got up to when they were together! Hell, they were probably just waiting for the right kid to come along so they could kill ‘em! It could’ve even been you!”
“Shut up!” Max screams, slapping Billy across the face with all her might to make him stop. He grunts in surprise at the pain, and a throbbing sting spreads through Max’s hand. Before Billy has time to react to what’s just happened, Max runs into her room and slams the door, locking it tight.
“Open this fucking door, Max! You know I’m right about them! You just don’t wanna see it! But you will! Once the cops go through all their shit, you’ll see how evil they really were!” Billy keeps it up, pounding his fist into the door. Max climbs onto her bed, pulling the covers over her head as fresh tears spring free. “You’ll see! And I’ll be right there to say ‘I told you so’! You’ll see them for what they were, just like everybody else has! Fucking freaks who needed to be put down! Savage animals who worshiped Satan! Do you hear me, Max? Do you?! You’ll fucking see!”
“Shut up. Shut up. It’s not true. It’s not. Shut up. It’s not true…” Max murmurs to herself over and over, covering her ears to block out the noise. She refuses to listen, she can’t let Billy’s words get to her. She can’t let the memories of Eddie and Y/N be soiled. Not by him, not by anyone.
Jim spends the rest of the evening overseeing the processing of the scene, ensuring every piece of evidence is bagged and labeled, leaving no stone unturned in the entire apartment. He can’t leave anything to chance if he’s going to catch these sick fucks. Looking over every detail more closely has made it very clear that no singular person could be responsible for this level of carnage. Y/N’s body has been wheeled away by the coroner, but the bloody outline of her remains on the floor. Eddie’s own became a little muddied when he was taken to the hospital, smudges and smears leading where they ought not to. Disconnection, a word that rings in Hopper’s mind as he studies it.
He receives the call a short time before things wrap up for the night, Eddie didn’t make it. He barely made it into an operating room before the blood loss took him out. Hopper supposes it’s better that way. Rather than Eddie get all cut open and stitched up again, only to find out his wife is gone. He doubts the young man would’ve been able to cope with the loss, or anyone, for that matter. Jim certainly didn’t take the death of his own daughter very well, it’s one of many reasons why he ended up back in this podunk town. At least now, (Hopper hopes, anyway), the Munsons will be able to rest peacefully with one another, no longer subject to the unbridled hatred they faced from their so-called neighbors. He imagines them in a far happier place, speeding around on their motorcycle, blasting heavy metal from the portable stereo strapped to Y/N’s hip, riding down a long, winding road to that great big D&D campaign in the sky. If Jim hadn’t become rather disillusioned with religion, he could almost believe it.
After Hopper has dismissed everyone, he stops by the corner store to pick up a six-pack to indulge in once he arrives home. He spends the short drive struggling to hold the anger and tears in, he’s already spent hours keeping up the stoic act that’s required of him. Add on top of that the immense frustration that came from his lower officers besmirching the badge with their careless conduct tonight, and he’s about ready to punch a damn hole in the wall. The moment he makes it through the door to his place, tosses his hat and jacket to a chair in the corner, and sinks down onto his sofa, he can’t hold it back any longer. A choked sob escapes his trembling lips, a harsh breath sucked in right after it. His shaking hands fumble with one of the beers, struggling to push the tab open. When his finger slips a couple times too many, he drops the can onto the floor in defeat, his head falling forward into his hands. He cries softly, still hanging onto the idea that his manhood might be in jeopardy if he lets out the wails he’s got chained up inside. He just sits, eyes scrunched closed tight as tears spill from them, his chest heaving in thick, noiseless bellows as he mourns.
In an odd way, he had become a bit of a father figure to the Munsons over the years. Neither of them had much in the way of loving homes, except for Eddie’s uncle Wayne. But the poor man worked a lot, leaving Eddie to fend for himself most of the time, though it wasn’t really his fault. Wayne provided everything he could for the boy, until cancer took him unexpectedly in ‘88. Shit, that day was sunshine and lollipops compared to this one. The preceding funeral was small, only attended by Eddie and Y/N, himself, and a few of Wayne’s coworkers from the plant. Eddie kept things short and sweet, just the way his uncle liked it. Afterwards, the three of them went to the Hideaway for a couple drinks. Hopper ignored Y/N’s use of a fake ID, given the circumstances, as well as being off-duty. There wasn’t a dry eye between them, though warm smiles graced their lips regardless as they recalled happy stories of Wayne through the years.
Hopper slowly wipes his hands down along his face once he gets ahold of himself. He picks up the dropped beer, surely it can’t blow up on him after sitting for so long. He cracks it open despite his tear-blurred vision, and chugs it down like bitter medicine to drown his sorrows. It warms his belly instantly, foaming up into a loud belch once he’s swallowed. He sighs, feeling just a little bit better. He supposes the rest of the pack should finish the job, at least for tonight. He sits back on the sofa, clicking the remote to the TV and hopes something is on this late. He grabs a second beer from the bundle. The hiss of the seal breaking seems to hush his thoughts, like a kind woman comforting his uneasy mind. The first sip is like a tender kiss, dizzying his head and warming his body up from the inside out. “Shit, I really need to get laid.” Hopper thinks aloud to himself, not exactly intending to put much effort into such a task. Oh well, nothing another sip couldn’t fix.
A few months earlier…
“We’ve got another one.” You say as you pick up what must be the fiftieth dead animal that’s been left outside the door to your apartment. It’s a pigeon this time. But you’ve found mice, squirrels, rats, frogs, a couple cats, and even a raccoon laid out for you in this very spot before. It’s been happening for months, both before the accusations leveled against you and Eddie, and even more so after.
“Shit, again?” Eddie sighs, scrunching his nose as you hold the pigeon by its feet. Its neck has been snapped, a dribble of blood coming from its beak. “That’s the third one this week.” He leaves you alone with it for a moment, retrieving a plastic bag from the kitchen. “And we’re the ones accused of hurting little critters like this one.” Eddie scoffs in frustration on his journey back to you. “Maybe we should call Hop again.” He offers as he holds the bag open for you to put the poor animal inside it.
“There’s no point, Eds. Even if they catch whoever is doing this, someone else will surely take their place.” You reply in resignation, letting the bird plop into the bag with a dull rustle. Eddie ties it off, the two of you going back to the kitchen. He tosses the pigeon in the trash, and you both wash your hands. You would bury the animals, out of respect, but living in an apartment doesn’t exactly allow for burial sites. Not to mention said animal cemetery would fill up pretty fucking quickly with how many new additions show up on your welcome mat.
“It would be better than doing nothing.” Eddie huffs, drying his hands with a towel.
“Let’s face it, love. This town hates us. Always has. Always will. If we get Hop involved, all it will do is show them that they’re getting to us. Then they win.” You reason, though it would be untruthful to say the ongoing torture you’ve both endured isn’t getting to you. But the narrow-minded people of this town don’t need to know that. If anything, the intense urge to carry on out of spite drives you to keep the discomfort to yourself. Outside the walls of your own home, that is.
Neither you or Eddie are strangers to torment. Even back in your school days, all kinds of nasty names would be thrown your way in the halls of Hawkins High. You’d found refuge in each other pretty quickly back then. You were a budding little freshman, and Eddie was a junior barely skating by in all his classes. From the moment your eyes met, you were both total goners. Eddie’s wild curls and boisterous attitude sent you careening head over heels, and your dark style dragged him down the same road right alongside you. Your shared love for metal music and all things nerdy deepened your connection, further weaving you together as a gleaming example of true love, soulmates. You got each other, when no one else did.
Your bond has only grown stronger over the years, sturdy roots set in your hearts. You helped Eddie study when ‘86 was his last chance to graduate, which was quite a task in itself. Despite your rebellious style and interests, you’re quite the bookworm. You were patient with him, keeping him on track with sweet kisses and touches as ‘rewards’ for doing so well, among other things. In turn, he spoiled you to no end, taking you on sweet dates and presenting you with whatever new book you’d been eyeing lately. And you always had each other’s backs when bullies came your way. Silver tongues have served your mouths well, and a defensive punch on one another’s behalf didn’t hurt, either.
And, until recently, your shared adult lives have been better than you ever imagined. You moved in together right after graduation, finally free from unfair curfews and sneaking in through bedroom windows. Eddie got himself straightened up, ending his dealing days and getting a job as a mechanic, while still mentoring the Hellfire club on the side. Meanwhile, you have quickly established yourself as the coolest librarian Hawkins has ever seen. The library has never had such a wide selection of horror and fantasy, everything the kiddos love, despite their parents’ protests. They also happen to love you, for encouraging their curiosity and creativity.
When Eddie popped the question a couple years ago, you were over the moon. It was a beautiful Halloween Wedding, with you in a black gown as you stood at the altar with Eddie in a field littered with colorful leaves. Hopper was kind enough to officiate, and Wayne and all the kids you care so much about were in attendance. Your own parents refused their invite, having long-since rejected you for your ‘un-Christian ways’. So, Wayne did the honor of giving you away, which meant the world to you. The ceremony was short and sweet, and after some simple sandwiches and cake in the park, Eddie whisked you off in his arms to enjoy the perfect honeymoon at home. Nothing but fucking for a solid week straight, all of which was the ultimate mix of affectionate and wild. Neither of you would’ve had it any other way. Every single second of your entire relationship has felt like the easiest thing in the entire world, bringing you nothing but happiness.
What you’ve been subjected to lately, though, is far from easy. As has been said, you’re no stranger to mistreatment. You don’t get through life looking the way you do, liking the things you like, without earning a few dirty looks and unseemly comments. It comes with the territory. But the last few months are nothing you’d ever expected.The stares and verbal jabs are there, alright. But then there’s the graffiti on your front door, poorly drawn pentagrams and misspelled swears. The dead animals, delivered to your door numerous times a week. Broken mirrors on your shared motorcycle if it’s parked on the street a little too long. Books stolen from the library that you later find burned by the dumpsters out back. Calls for books to be outright banned and removed from the library due to ‘satanic or inappropriate material’, all of which have thankfully been dismissed by the Mayor and any other officials involved. Freedom of speech wins out, for once. Although it doesn’t mean much, when everything has only escalated since the Pete Howell incident.
Pete Howell was a freshman member of Eddie’s Hellfire Club, a sweet young kid who has a similar homelife to your own. Unloving parents, who usually don’t pay much attention to him…unless he’s in trouble. They’re far more attentive then, so to speak. That’s how this whole thing started. Pete came to school last month with far more bruises than usual, ones he couldn’t write off as clumsy mishaps. When questioned by teachers, and Eddie, he vehemently denied anyone did anything to him. He said he ‘fell going down the stairs’ and would be fine. Knowing that was clearly bullshit, Eddie did the right thing and asked Hopper to look into it.
Someone must’ve tipped off Mr. and Mrs. Howell that he was coming, because by the time he knocked on their door, they had the whole story cooked up for him. They claimed that Eddie had brought him to your apartment after a D&D session, and the two of you made him engage in all sorts of vile acts. Ritual sacrifice, spellcasting, and various sexual activities as a means to summon the devil. Hopper didn’t buy a word of it, he knows you both far too well to think you’d ever be capable of such a thing.
To be properly thorough, he had a doctor check Pete out, ask him more questions. While there was no evidence of sexual abuse, Pete started singing a far more zealous tune than he was before. He screamed bloody murder about all the evil things you’d done to him, how scared he was, how much you hurt him. It made you sick to your stomach when Hopper came around to warn you that he had no choice in searching your place for evidence. To think that anyone would accuse you or Eddie of doing such disgusting things, it sent your heart sinking like a stone in your chest. In order to clear up this ridiculous matter, you allowed the police to go through all your belongings, and answered every single question they asked. Hopper thankfully kept the reporters at bay, but it didn’t take long for the populace at large to spread the rumors like wildfire.
The couple of weeks during the investigation were absolute hell. You could barely leave the apartment without a police escort, and whichever officer you were assigned at the time seemed less than enthused to assist you. When you did dare to step outside, cameras were on you immediately, as well as a sea of recognizable faces shouting and screaming at you. Calling you a whore of the devil, a witch, a monster, saying similar things to Eddie as well. These were people you’d known your entire life, and they turned on you with very little resistance. The fanatical preachers, trashy tabloids and exaggerated news stories breaking out across the country certainly didn’t help.
When you and Eddie were finally cleared of any wrongdoing, things only got worse. There were demands for Hopper’s badge, or his head, as well as yours. What they did get was Eddie’s banishment from school property. ‘To be on the safe side’, as Principal Higgins put it. Pete has stuck to his story since then, you imagine under threat of being beaten even harder next time. You don’t blame him, he’s just a scared, hurt child. His parents have garnered mountains of support from the community, who have come together in an effort to drive you and Eddie out of town, by any means necessary. Threatening phone calls at all hours and vulgar letters slipped under your door have joined the mix now, to a point where you’ve left the phone unplugged, and taped the bottom of your front door to prevent the letters from fitting under it. You often have nightmares of people breaking into the apartment, and hurting you or Eddie. It’s become difficult to get much sleep, without Eddie having to hold you close and coo sweet nothings as you cry. It makes you feel like you’re going insane at times, your mind left searching as to how people who once seemed rational could act in such a way. Satan is on everyone’s mind these days, and their devil detectors are now permanently poised directly at you.
“I’m just so tired of being scared all the time. I worry about you every time you walk out that door, or when I do. I'm afraid that one day, one of us might not make it back at night.” You find yourself breaking down again, tears welling and lips trembling. You turn away, frustrated with losing what little control you have left. You ball your fists at your sides as you choke on anguished sobs. Eddie’s arms wrap around your middle as your eyes squeeze shut, his chest meeting your back with a welcome warmth.
“I’m scared too, sweetheart. Every time I drop you off at work, I spend every second hoping I don’t get a call or visit from Hop at the shop.” Eddie says softly, holding back his own tears. His hands find yours, loosening the knotted knuckles. He slowly makes you face him, his heart breaking at the redness of your face, the hopeless expression it carries. It kills him that he can’t do more for you, to protect you. He’s suggested buying a gun a couple of times, but you always refuse. He’s not exactly a fan either, but what else can he do? He intertwines his fingers with your own, keeping you close. “All we can hope for is that this will all blow over soon. Then we won’t have to be afraid anymore.”
“I know, love. I just wonder how long they’ll keep it up.” You reply, sounding utterly defeated.
“They’re bound to get tired of it eventually. Until then, we’ve got each other. We’ll be okay, angel.” Eddie assures you, pulling you further into his arms.
You sigh, welcoming his embrace. “I really hope you’re right, babe. Not sure how much more of this I can take.” You press your cheek into his chest, unable to quell the ever-growing uneasiness brewing inside you.
October 31, 1991
“We’ve got them all set up for you, Chief. Whenever you’re ready.” Powell says as Hopper steps out of his office, having sent the cavalry to pick up a certain group of young men who sit at the top of his suspect list.
“Perfect. I’ll start with Hargrove.” Hopper smiles, chugging the rest of his black coffee, handing the mug off to Callahan. I’m gonna enjoy this, he thinks to himself as Powell leads him to the interrogation room. Their footsteps land on the linoleum with purpose, closing the distance between him and where the suspected ringleader in all this is being held. Jim sincerely hopes Billy gives him a good reason to manhandle him a little bit, some well-earned payback for what he’s done. His fist balls up of its own volition at the thought, his fingernails nearly drawing blood as they press into his palm. He closes his eyes and takes a very deep breath once he and Powell reach the door, letting it out nice and slow like his officially-mandated therapist showed him.
“You good, Chief?” Powell asks, his hand trained on the doorknob as he awaits Hopper’s go-ahead.
“Never better.” Jim opens his eyes again, nodding to the officer. “Let’s do it.” With that, Powell opens the door, stepping inside with Hopper right behind him. “Know why you’re here, kid?” He asks Billy, not wasting any time. The young man is sitting in a stiff chair on one side of the table in the room, legs spread wide in tight blue jeans. A matching jacket rests over the back of the chair, leaving him in a ratty old t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal his muscles and tattoos.
“Not a clue.” Billy bites, crossing his thick arms. “Mind filling me in?” He asks with a smirk, adjusting in his seat. There’s not a lick of fear struck within him, only annoyance. As if being questioned about a serious crime is only a minor inconvenience to his day. Hopper has brought him in here many times before, but usually for far more petty things. He’d like to think any normal person would be at least a little bit nervous in this scenario. The completely unbothered demeanor Hargrove holds sends a chill scurrying up his spine.
“No problem.” Hopper grins back, already forgetting all the anger management techniques Linda has shown him. He drops a manila folder onto the table, opening it to face Billy. “As you know, Eddie and Y/N Munson were murdered last night in their apartment. Pretty gruesomely, if I might add.” Jim spreads the crime scene photos out across the table, letting the kid have a good long look, searching for a reaction. But Billy’s eyes barely flick down for a glance, deepening the unsettling feeling in Hopper’s stomach.
“What’s that gotta do with me?” Billy asks, shrugging his shoulders. His lip is fixed stiff, eyebrows drawn downward to evoke confusion. But Hopper isn’t buying it.
“Why don’t you tell me? Where were you last night?” Jim asks.
“I was out with friends.” Billy answers coldly.
“Which friends?” Hopper continues, hoping to make the kid slip up in his quick succession of questions. The method usually works out pretty well for him.
“Tommy, Steve, and Jason.” Billy answers just as quickly, his eyes barely blinking as he keeps up just fine.
“And what were the four of you doing?” Hopper questions.
“Drinking beers, hanging out.” The young man responds.
“And what time was this?”
“I dunno, man. All night, probably?” There it is, a flash of uncertainty. Hopper can use that.
“Probably? I’m gonna need you to be more specific.” Jim smiles, hoping whatever lies Billy’s got lined up will start to crumble.
“Do I look like I wear a watch? I don’t know how long it went on for. But we stayed at Steve’s all night, our girls were there, too. You can ask them.” Billy snaps, losing that cool, calculating exterior.
“Oh, you bet I will.” Hopper chuckles, feeling a little too much satisfaction at making the kid crack just a bit. It’s the small victories that matter in life, after all. If he keeps at it, with the other boys, too, he’s almost certain he can nail them for this. “You wanna know what I think?” Jim asks, hoping to goad a few more mistakes out of Billy before taking a run at the other three.
“What?” Billy scoffs, rolling his eyes.
Hopper stands up, leaning as far over the table as he can reach. His face sits centimeters away from Billy’s, and the proximity seems to shake the kid up just the tiniest bit more. “I think you and your psychopathic little friends were real upset when I found no evidence of the Munsons doing what everyone claims they did. So, you decided to take matters into your own hands. They certainly suffered enough harassment and threats. Someone was bound to get fed up pussy-footin’ around and do what everybody in this town has wanted to. I think you rounded up your boys, and finished the job. I think you broke into the Munson’s home, you tortured them, and then you killed them. That’s what I think.” Jim resists the urge to spit in the young man’s face, backing off and sitting down in his chair.
Billy sits with the accusation for a moment, before bursting out laughing. It’s certainly not the reaction Hopper was expecting. “That’s quite a theory you got there, Chief!” He hollers, pounding his fist on the table as if he’s just been told the funniest joke in the entire world. “You’ve got a real sick sense of humor, I like it.” He chuckles as he calms himself down. Deep red amusement colors his cheeks and throat. “Too bad you can never prove it.” He sighs loudly, pretending to be disappointed. “Like I said, I was with my boys, and my lady, havin’ some drinks. I’d tell ya more, but I doubt you wanna hear the details of my sex life.” He laughs callously, before continuing. “Now, even if I did kill those freaks, I doubt anyone will miss them.” His smile grows a little, revealing the joy in his words. “We all know what they were, what they were capable of.” He speaks slowly, baiting Hopper into losing his cool.
“And what would that be?” Jim asks, daring the little fucker to say another word about them.
“They were a couple of evil devil worshippers, posing a threat to this community! A community you’re meant to be protecting, Hopper!” Billy shouts as he stands, his chair sliding back. “You know what that witch bitch and her faggot husband did to Pete Howell! And you did nothing about it!”
“I did my job.” Hopper bellows back, getting to his feet. “I searched their apartment, I made them feel like criminals to put this ignorant town at ease! I had Pete checked out! I did everything I was supposed to, you insolent fuck! I couldn’t find a damn thing to back up this bullshit you and everybody else continue to spew all over the place!” His voice raises more and more with every sentence.
“Chief.” Powell says quietly, hoping to get his boss’s attention. But Hopper pays him no mind. In fact, he goes around the table to get at Billy, quickly leading him backwards by the collar to slam into the wall.
“They were good people! They never hurt anyone! Even in the face of all this hatred you hurled at them, they still managed to be kind! Which is more than I can say for you, or anyone else in this godforsaken town!” Jim shouts in the young man’s face, earning no reaction besides that same stupidly smug smirk. He breathes heavily, still gripping Billy’s shirt in his hands.
“I’d like my lawyer now.” Billy says coolly, having lured Hopper right into his trap. He’s aware of the close relationship the Chief had with the Munsons, so it was easy enough to exploit. No way a judge will convict him now, not after the investigating officers have gotten physical with him. Add on his rock-solid alibi, and he probably won’t even see any charges.
“Fuck.” Hopper sighs, his head falling to look at the floor once he realizes what he’s done. He can kiss justice for Eddie and Y/N goodbye. His hands slowly release Billy’s shirt, and he turns away to have a fucking breather before he goes for his next opponent.
The other young men provide the same story to Hopper, asking for lawyers shortly after their almost identical retellings. Things were already not looking good after his outburst earlier, and it’s only getting worse as the night wears on. As predicted, the ‘girls’ in question for the alibi 一Nancy Wheeler, Carol Perkins, Vicki Carmichael, and Tina Johnson一 all corroborate Billy’s tale. The lawyers and parents give him an earful or two, and he’s left with four empty interrogation rooms and no arrests by the end of his shift. He goes home feeling even worse than he did yesterday, picking up two six-packs on the way home this time. Time will tell if he’s ever able to recover from this, but as one of Y/N’s gag oracles would say: ‘outlook not so good’.
October 30th, 1992
Inky clouds flood the night sky as the hour grows late, small blooms of light from the full moon willfully piercing the thick blanket in defiance. Max sits cross-legged before Y/N’s grave in Roane County Cemetery, scrubbing red spray-painted graffiti from it with a soapy sponge. She dips the sponge in a bucket beside her to refresh it, ignoring the knot tied up inside her at what the defacement says. ‘Burn in Hell Bitch’. An accompanying message still sits untainted on Eddie’s, ‘Burn in Hell Fag’.
“They could’ve at least bothered to put the commas in.” A low voice speaks from behind Max, startling her. She turns around, finding Hopper standing a couple feet away. He wears a sad smile beneath his wide-brimmed hat, coming closer to her. “Want some help?” He asks, groaning slightly as he joins her on the moist grass.
“Yeah.” Max replies, nodding. “Thanks.” She reaches into the bucket, handing him the sopping piece of foam. “I swear, every time I clean this shit off, someone comes along and puts something else in its place. I’m sick of it.” She expresses her frustration, feeling free to do so in Hopper’s presence.
“You and me both, kid. But I’m sure the Munsons appreciate you lookin’ after them.” Jim says, rubbing away at the ‘F’ on Eddie’s headstone.
“I can’t believe it’s already been a year.” Max says sadly, low roars of thunder rumbling through the clouds above.
“Me either.” Hopper sighs, scraping a little harder now. It’s the least he can do, given how miserably he failed at catching the killers. He’s barely been by to visit since the funeral, too twisted up with guilt to bear looking at these very stones. The epitaphs are simple, yet capture exactly who the Munsons were. ‘Loving Wife (or Husband), Caring Friend, and Free Spirit’.
Hopper remembers being tasked with handling their final arrangements, no living kin of theirs was interested in doing so. He allowed Max to help a little, choosing flowers and program designs. Small stuff, so Hopper himself could handle the hard part. Like selecting coffins, and deciding what these very graves would say to whoever may visit them. Max picked black dahlias, Y/N’s favorite. Jim also let her inside the apartment once the mess was cleaned up to find clothes for them to be buried in. He initially worried if it would’ve been too morbid for such a young girl, but she knew them well enough to select exactly what they would’ve wanted. A sleek black leather dress for Y/N, and a nice black shirt and clean matching jeans for Eddie. Hopper even made sure their wedding bands were released from evidence, and any other significant pieces Max could think of. He didn’t want to leave them incomplete before they were laid to rest. No one at the station seemed to mind, having already washed their hands of the case before the ground could break to bury the Munsons.
The funeral itself was a small affair. Only Hopper, Max, a non-denominational minister, and the few kids in town who weren’t banned from going were in attendance. The proceedings were peaceful, though, thankfully free from any protesters. Everything was kept short and sweet, the way the Munsons would have wanted it. Jim doubts they would’ve cared for a drawn-out sobfest, quite the opposite. They would’ve wanted whoever cared to show up to remember them as they were. Two sweet, loving, hilarious, eccentric, beautiful people who made the world so much brighter just by existing in it. So, that’s what he did. When the bodies were lowered into the ground, Hopper walked the kids to the ice cream shop, and everyone took turns telling their favorite memories of their lost friends. There were lots of laughs and tears, leaving the day feeling unbearably bittersweet. Just the way Y/N and Eddie wanted it to be.
“Is it weird that I talk to them sometimes?” Max asks, breaking the silence. She doesn’t look at Jim, worried he may judge her.
“Not at all. I used to talk to my Sarah sometimes.” Hopper says, dipping his sponge in the bucket. “She was my little girl…” He trails off, wondering how much he should tell her. “She got sick, and we did everything we could for her. But it wasn’t enough.” He adds, letting out a low sigh.
“I’m sorry.” Max says, looking at him now.
“Don’t be, it was a long time ago.” He shakes his head, forcing a smile as he returns to scrubbing.
The two of them keep going until all the offending red is washed away, leaving Y/N and Eddie looking spotless once again. They speak casually, passing the time in one another’s company, ignoring the flashes of lightning that periodically screech across the sky. Max dumps the bucket out once the work is done, wringing the sponges out thoroughly. “Mind giving me a ride home? Looks like it’s gonna rain.” She asks, peering up uneasily at the stormclouds.
“Sure, kid. I’ll even get you some grub on the way.” Hopper agrees, taking hold of the bucket to carry it for her.
“BK?” She asks hopefully, pouting her lower lip out.
“You got it.” Hopper chuckles, finding a smidge of Sarah in Max’s feigned puppy eyes. “C’mon, we’d better beat this rain.” He takes her hand in his free one, and they walk together out of the cemetery just as the first drops start to fall.
The clouds grow thicker, claps of thunder and strikes of lightning clashing in the sky like a raging battle of the gods is taking place. A lone crow flies overhead the newly cleaned headstones, its caw barely audible over the storm. It lands on Y/N’s grave as the rain begins to pour in curtains, ruffling its shiny feathers, pecking at the newly-washed stone with its obsidian beak. It lets out another caw, tilting its head side to side in curiosity as it peers at the ground. A booming rumble breaks through the air, followed by a bright white streak of lightning piercing the earth where the woman lies resting. The crow caws again, and the ground begins to groan and wheeze as it shifts. Bulging rolls form beneath the green grass, rippling in thick waves.
The bird makes its call one final time, a crack suddenly splitting the earth open in a tangled mess of dirt and roots. A puddle quickly pools in the hole, mud sliding down inwards. And a twitching hand springs up out of the grave, clawing for purchase on the slick edge of the rift with black painted fingernails.
To Be Continued…
#hippiegoth97#fanfiction#eddie munson#stranger things#eddie munson x reader#hangman's joke#the crow 1994#the crow au#90s#hawkins#eddie munson x goth!reader#satanic panic#halloween#spooky season#eddie munson x fem!reader
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day thirty-one - free day / public sex
pairing: oberyn martell x f!reader
word count: 625
warnings: 18+ content; no use of y/n; public sex, doggystyle, unprotected p in v, creampie
a/n: the final day!! thank you so, so much to everyone who has read, left comments, tags, anything! it was an exciting (also stressful) first kinktober! thanks for making it so enjoyable!! i'll be back to regular uploads on november 8th 🖤
• kinktober 2023 masterlist •
Oberyn knew exactly how dangerous it was. Fucking her in a little corner in the private gardens of the Red Keep, having torn her away from the feast to have her to himself. So riled up and hard from her simply sitting on his lap all evening, grinding her pretty ass against his crotch and driving him insane while doing so.
If they were caught, it could mean death. King’s Landing was different to Dorne in that way. They weren’t as open to sex and love up here like they were in the warm south, where the public setting may be frowned upon, but not punishable by losing one’s head.
But exactly that was part of the thrill, his broad hand wrapping over her mouth as he pounded into her from behind, muffling her sweet sounds. Still unable to keep the wet slapping noises quiet, his hard cock plunging into her wet heat over and over again.
“You have to stay quiet, my dove.” He whispered intently, and as if to mock her, slammed into her with a particularly harsh thrust. “Do you want them to find us?”
She shook her head, unable to keep her moans down. He simply made her feel too good with how he was fucking her, with how his hand was holding her by her hip. The obscene, wet noises only added to it.
“I suspect that you do.” He whispered against her ear, his voice so close to her and letting shivers run over her skin. “You want them to see how the Red Viper is fucking you, don’t you?”
Oberyn muffled his own groan against her shoulder, hearing footsteps draw near.
“You want them to know who is spearing open this delectable cunt, making you feel the heights of pleasure.” Rambling like a madman, hissing the words against her skin.
Not stopping even when voices appeared right on the other side of the hedge, her heart skipping a beat but finding that the shrub was thick enough to not show anything.
Her heart was beating in her throat, threatening to jump out of it as his hand still kept firmly wrapped over her mouth.
“You do, don’t you, my dove?” Oberyn hissed, finally pushing her over the edge, groaning softly when her tight cunt grabbed him harshly. Panicking just a little when a loud noise escaped her, audible even through his hand.
“What was that?” A man said on the other side of the hedge, but not even that could deter Oberyn from chasing his own release deep inside of her. “I think I have heard something.”
The man remained quiet for a moment, silence filling the air, only broken by the wet slap of skin on skin.
“Mayhaps just an animal.” A woman said softly. “Let us go.”
The footsteps disappeared, and she could finally breathe normally again, Oberyn finally spilling himself inside of her with a loud groan.
Entirely uncaring right now if anyone heard, needing to make his fondness of her cunt known to not only her but the whole world.
Nothing could be finer than this.
Slowly he slipped his hand from her mouth, instead steadying her form as she stood on weak legs, giggling like she was drunk.
“I think you wanted them to hear, my love.” She said, her gown sliding down over her ass again, covering her up as if nothing had ever happened.
Oberyn put himself away, chuckling as well. Linking his arm with hers, he smiled softly at the way her legs still trembled when they appeared from behind the hedge.
“Mayhaps I did, my dove.” He laughed, his eyes twinkling as he looked at her. “But you can not say that you did not enjoy it as well.”
#oberyn martell#oberyn martel x reader#oberyn martell x reader#oberyn martell fanfiction#oberyn martell x you#oberyn martell x ofc#oberyn martell smut#prince oberyn#pedro pascal character#game of thrones fanfiction#pedro pascal#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fandom#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal smut#kinktober 2023#my writing
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I have observed several types of fic writers, and so for kicks and giggles, here they all are. Each of them scares me for different reasons.
The Prepared And Ready To Publish™:
Several documents dedicated to worldbuilding, planning, cross referencing, character lists & traits, plot twists, and then the actual fic document.
Dedicated to the max to creating a rich world. Probably knows more about the niche thing than you ever will. 100% could have written a thesis and chose to do fic instead (or did both at the same time).
Created a masterpiece and promptly vanished off the face of creation before coming back in with another banger to crush souls and save fandoms.
Their arrival is akin to the birth of a new era because they never fail to somehow make a niche ship popular, make a headcanon fanon, or otherwise give so much depth and interest to a character or setting that whatever they have devised is largely accepted as gospel by their readers.
They either use a high end writing program or wordpad. There is no in-between.
Mysterious. Very mysterious. Reasons for this mysteriousness vary between fics and authors.
100000/10 would be friends with them if I could. Legendary writers. But also they scare me because ??? What void offered you such power ?????
The Baby Writer:
All vibes and loosely strung plots.
It may not make the most sense, but good gracious the dedication is there.
Notable lack of comprehension when it comes to characters and places, but it's bad form to not leave a kudo because it takes guts to post anything in fandom.
They are still figuring things out and their grammar or formatting (possibly both) is probably a mess, but they've put heart into their work.
Sweetest rays of sunshine who want to be involved and are eager to learn the ropes.
The fandom's young ward or despised new arrival (depends entirely on fandom popularity and age).
8/10 would happily offer advice to them. Just can't read their work for too long without wanting to throw it into grammarly. The fear factor comes in the form of the miraculous misuse of fandom terminology. (Yeah it's tough bud, the fanon is wild. But goodness that term/canon word does NOT mean what you think it does.)
The Smut For Your Soul:
Meticulously plans the smut with all the loving care of a sculptor.
Somehow plot got involved.
Miraculously, they managed to not include an iota of plot and it has somehow managed to work.
Headcanons abound and cuteness and or angst lurks merrily behind every corner.
The tags mean everything and nothing at the same time. They are but faint guides to the fae wilds ahead. Tread lightly.
Has a mountain of unfinished WIPs that will follow them to the grave or emerge ten years after conception to grace whatever fandom spawned the idea.
The fandom thanks them for their service, although often that praise is late or hits like a freight train.
???/10 I personally avoid smut but I have friends who write it so it really depends. Terrifying because you never know who falls into this role of writer. It could be anyone. Normalcy is a mask poorly adorned for the sake of conforming to The Great Machine.
The Angst Lord:
Has a million slightly different ways to hurt their blorbo. Each are somehow more horrifying than the next.
The embodiment of the iceburg videos seen all over the net. Ask one question and you shall unravel and scheme of torment so great you shall regret having dared to speak up.
Has dozens of WIPs or unwritten ideas that they claim they will return to.
They are controlled by passion and emotion and can and will insert their own complicated situation into a fic.
Almost nothing is off limits.
Arrives to the fandom ready to brawl and somehow ends up respected or feared. They often stare in bafflement as they end up unscathed and watch angry comments fly toward the arguably innocent shippers.
Generally some of the nicest people who happen to enjoy inflicting The Horrors upon someone fictional.
'10/10 would befriend and promptly regard like a wild racoon. Offerings of angsty ideas yield delightful commentary. But also I need to prepare myself for anything they say because O U C H my SOUL.
The General Writer:
Fluff, cuteness, possibly a delightful touch of angst and pure unbridled creative simplicity.
They may not have the most brutal or soul wrenching tale, but they always manage to write something that someone, somewhere, desperately needs.
Devastatingly underrated and deserves far more praise for their contributions to the fandom.
Produces some of the softest of scenes and the most touching of interactions between characters in a contained, careful crafted, tale.
Introducing new ships or family dynamics in such a tasteful manner that brain chemistry can easily be altered.
Arrives to the fandom as a lurker and shows their appreciation through their work. Oftentimes, they are very quiet and go unnoticed.
INFINITE/10 Love these writers, honestly a gift to fandom. The sheer level of dedication to producing fluff is astounding and scary all at once.
The OC X Canon:
Has so many ships and headcanons that it's astounding.
The lore development rivals IDW and Lost Light combined. All the kudos to them for putting their souls into their characters.
The dedication is mind boggling.
They put up with so much crap they could be in MMA Wrestling if the verbal assaults translated into physical strength.
Has so many adjustments to lore and whole AUs devoted specifically to creating a perfect world.
Skilled in the extreme (or not) at integrating their ocs into canon.
Arrives to the fandom not intending to make ocs. Leaves with seventeen leashes for their new abominable creations. Is loved or hated by literally everyone, sometimes for no reason.
6/10 perfectly lovely people but very niche in their interest and thus not everyone's cup of tea. Scary because that level of sheer willpower is meant for demi-gods.
There are more types of writers, but these feel like the big overarching ones. Which kind of writer are you? :D
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i've been putting off making a formal announcement on this blog but i think i've reached a point where i can say the blog as everyone knows it is...done. the hiatus has turned into a retirement of sorts.
basically, going forward, there is no promise of any fics being posted, no more tag lists, no more icon/header changes for a hwa fic, etc. fics can be posted randomly and not just be focused on hwa, it'll be about whatever catches my attention and i want to write a fic on. this could mean months upon months with no update. it could mean i never update again. idk i am not really focusing on it.
so yeah, thats the short version. longer version under the cut.
the thing about running this blog is that over time it ended up being whatever idea i had needed to be tweaked in order to feel comfortable post it here. that could be trying to put smut scenes in, or thinking about the dynamic and how it would come across to an audience, or if i went too long without posting and it would weigh on me.
after my move to toronto, i hit burn out with the blog. i missed writing original works, and i missed the genre exploration i liked to do with original pieces such as horror. i dealt with a sort of nagging guilt if i didn't post on here for long periods of time and i felt like if i kept pushing against how my brain was going, the fics posted here would suffer in quality.
ppl who have read this far know that i don't pay attention to the amount of notes i get on my fics. i write the ideas because i want to write them. that's been my rule and once i got the sense i was writing for the blog and not writing cuz i wanted to, i realized i needed to step away from it.
so going forward, the only time this blog will be updated is if i got a story idea that naturally and organically was planned as a fic in my head. this could mean no more hwa fics ever again. it could mean fics about random video game characters. it could mean more star wars fics. or it could mean i don't update for a really long time. i don't know what form it will take. i'm not really focusing on that.
while this blog was my primary focus, i met a lot of amazing people and ended up meeting people that now mean so much to me. i had tons of nice messages sent to me. i never thought i'd get 3k followers here and that wasn't my goal, it just ended up happening.
if you read all this, thanks, and thank you to everyone who took the time to read anything i posted, it means a lot. i'll be at the toronto ateez show if anyone wants to say hi.
my main blog is @hologramhoneymoon - you can follow me there for a lot of random reblogs from a lot of random things.
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