#i just think festive themes are fun.....

[hxneylavendxr]

hmm no more halloween theme, huh.. gotta get a temp theme going until we get valkyrie christmas (real) (is going to happen) (trust me im a prophet)

[chalkrub]

ode to the drowned rat. who’s hiding under there??

[ellemj]

Wear That Again: 12 Days of Smut #7

Bucky Barnes x Reader One-Shot

This fic was inspired by two things:

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8Ha16Rj/ this Tiktok edit by @the.stark.internship ( @thestarkinternship on Tumblr)

@littlemiss-yeehaw's latest smutty drawing which can be found on her blog, I've stared at it since yesterday and I'm still not over it.

Summary: Bucky ruins your brief holiday romance with a SHIELD agent out of jealousy. You'd think storming in and yelling at the super soldier would've ended in an argument and some slamming doors, but that's not what happens at all.

Warnings: profanity, some objectifying thoughts, possessive!Bucky, jealous!Bucky, thigh riding, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: I don't know how tf it's happening but y'all have me averaging 1.2k notes per day on my blog for the last couple of days and it feels surreal. Also I just want to say, I wrote Bucky out-of-character for this one-shot and this is not how I imagine he'd be at all, but it was fun to write hehe.

            “You little fucking shit.” You finally snap as the elevator doors are opening to let you out into the common living area of the tower. “Bucky, you are such an asshole.” You’re absolutely livid, and if your words hadn’t showed that then your actions sure would’ve. You’re slamming your hands down on the kitchen island before the elevator doors have even fully closed. Bucky sits on a barstool with a near straight face, completely unaffected by your rage and only briefly looking up at you as he chews through a bite of his Chinese takeout. “You’re the reason he stood me up, aren’t you? What the hell did you do this time?”

            “Wear that outfit again.”

            You’re silent for the longest moment yet, at least fifteen seconds, and Bucky thinks it might be a new record for you. He hasn’t paid attention to a damn thing you’ve said since you walked in, but he sure as hell paid attention to what you chose to wear tonight. You were supposed to be going on your third date with a SHIELD agent who crossed your path a number of times professionally before finally asking you out two weeks ago, and with it being just six days until Christmas, you were dressing for the occasion tonight. You’re wearing a tight black turtleneck sweater that’s tucked neatly into the tiniest holiday-themed miniskirt you could find. It's a sort of festively-colored tight plaid skirt that barely covers a thing, but you didn’t wear it for any reason other than to encourage your date to rip it off of you later. However, Bucky made sure the poor guy wouldn’t even get the chance to see the damn thing.

            “What did you just say to me?” Your voice is shaking but not with fear, no. It’s shaking with the sheer amount of anger that’s currently eating you alive. Bucky lifts his gaze to meet yours as he sets his chopsticks down and picks up his half-empty beer bottle from the countertop. Letting his eyes roam over the entirety of your figure that isn’t obscured by the kitchen island, he boldly repeats himself.

            “Wear that again.”

            “If you like it, I’m burning it.” You say defiantly, crossing your arms over your chest as you glare at the man before you. Bucky lets out a low laugh now, the sound is melodious but his gaze hardens and narrows as he focuses in on your face.

            “If I like it?” All he can think about is pushing you up against a wall, lifting the back of that tiny little piece of fabric you call a skirt, and fucking you until Christmas morning. If he likes it? Hell, he fucking loves it.

            “That’s it, I’m burning it.” You’ve had enough. First, he ruins your short-lived holiday romance. Then, he has the audacity to act like your outfit is doing something for him. As you said before, he’s a little fucking shit. You shoot him one last passing glare as you move around the island and start heading toward the hallway, ready to lock yourself in your room and plot his demise for the rest of the night. But Bucky just can’t let you have the last word, and he sure as hell can’t let you walk away from him looking like something that belongs under the Christmas tree. Or more accurately, something that belongs under him.

            The two of you have done this dance so many times that you aren’t even surprised when you hear his barstool slide away from the island seconds before you feel a firm hand gripping your forearm and yanking you backward. You’re not surprised when suddenly, your front is pushed roughly against the wall of the hallway and his lips graze over the shell of your ear. Frustratingly, you’re not even a little bit surprised when you feel heat rushing through your body and settling between your legs.

            “You’ll wear that outfit again, when I tell you to.” Bucky’s tone is so much less indifferent than it was only a moment ago. It’s so full of lust that it leaves you trembling, awaiting whatever his next move may be. He knows no one else is in the tower tonight, which means if he wanted to, he could take you right here in the hallway and not feel an ounce of guilt over it. Who’s he kidding? He’s done that before even with everyone in the tower, and guilt sure wasn’t the feeling he felt afterward. But he wants you in his room tonight. You and that fucking skirt.

            Bucky takes your silence as obedience and steps away from you, letting you push yourself off of the wall and turn around to face him. If you’re being honest, you’re a little disappointed. That’s all he wants from you tonight?

            “How long has it been since the last time we had sex?” Bucky questions. He knows you remember, probably down to they very hour. He remembers, but he has to make sure you do too.

            “Two weeks.” You haven’t slept with Bucky since the SHIELD agent asked you out. Bucky mulls over the length of time in his mind. He wants to remedy that, he wants to fuck you tonight, but he won’t. You started seeing someone and threw Bucky to the side so easily that him waiting two weeks to ruin your dating life was the nicest possible thing he could’ve done in retaliation. He’s not going to give you what you need now, at least not everything you need.

            Bucky’s silent as he pushes open his bedroom door and waits for you to step inside before him. He’s still silent as he sits on the edge of the bed and beckons you to stand between his legs. He begins raking his hands up the outsides of your thighs, sliding them underneath your skirt until he feels the waistband of your sheer tights. He isn’t so silent when he begins sliding those down your legs, letting out a soft groan when his hands meet your bare skin underneath. It’s been too fucking long since he’s touched you and an unfamiliar peace settles in his soul when he feels your warmth. You’re expecting him to rip the tights off, followed by the skirt and everything else you’re wearing. However, Bucky’s plan involves keeping you nearly fully clothed, and only partially satisfied. Once he has your heels and tights on his bedroom floor, he kneads your ass underneath your skirt, letting his fingertips brush over the fabric of your thong. God, he’s really practicing his restraint tonight. His cock is already hard, threatening to rip the seam of his pants with even the slightest movement, but he isn’t planning on getting his own fix tonight.

            “Sit.” He commands, gripping your hips with both hands and pulling you down to straddle one of his thighs. As soon as your clothed core makes contact with the toned muscle of his thigh, you stiffen and try to shift your weight so you won’t be so stimulated. Bucky makes an annoyed face at you before slipping one hand back underneath your skirt and drawing your panties to the side, causing your wet clit to press against the fabric of his pants. “I’m not rewarding you for spending your time with some other guy for the last two weeks, I’m not having sex with you.”

            You’re about to protest, to tell Bucky that he’s being sensitive, that the two of you never had any rules about dating, but Bucky senses your opposition and begins dragging you back and forth over his thigh. He looks down between the two of you as a wet spot quickly begins forming where your pussy meets his clothed leg. Fuck. It feels too good for you to even consider stopping and telling him that he’s an asshole. So, you go along with his guiding movements, grinding against his leg and finding just the right amount of pressure and friction to start heading toward an orgasm.

            “You didn’t have to scare the guy off.” You mutter as you lean forward, letting your hands rest on Bucky’s shoulder as you place a gentle kiss against the side of his neck. He sighs and tilts his head to the side to give you better access, but his hands continue to guide the movement of your hips.

            “Three dates were enough. I couldn’t stand it anymore.” He admits. You feel an odd sense of pride surge through you at his words, though you have no idea if he’s being honest or not. “I couldn’t let him have you like this.” You suck on the skin just beneath Bucky’s left ear and pick up the pace with which you’re grinding on his thigh.

            “Fuck, James.”

            Bucky knows this isn’t the right time for the conversation, so as you grind out an orgasm on his thigh, letting out the most heavenly moans and whimpers just for him, he tells himself to hold it together until Christmas. That’s when he’ll tell you. That’s when he’ll tell you that he wants more than the angry, hateful late-night rendezvous in his room or yours. He wants more than sitting around waiting for you to come home from a date while he nearly goes insane with jealousy. He wants more of you. Fuck, he wants all of you.

            Just as you’re coming undone on his thigh while moaning his name and squeezing his shoulders, he lets his hands snake underneath your little plaid skirt. He grips your ass with both hands, digging his fingertips into the supple skin there as he leans into your neck. You feel him take a deep breath in as you’re coming down from your orgasm high.

            “Why do you always smell so fucking good?” He asks, licking a small stripe up the side of your neck before pressing his lips against it in a soft kiss. You only hum lightly in response, your brain not quite ready to formulate a full sentence. Bucky presses a second kiss to your neck, and then a third as his works his way up to your lips. His hands move to smooth over the fabric of that little skirt that he can’t seem to get over. “Stay away from the fireplace this week. I can’t have you burning this skirt.”

TAG LIST: @sunnyhummingbee @gyokujyn @jenniferpendragon @thealloveru2 @siciliano13 @ordelixx @crist1216 @twlkdead @claireelizabeth85 @charmedbysarge @wishingforwonderland @mrsjoequinn @nixxaswrld @sweettae02 @frombkjar @hellfirebabe @edelweissbarnes @fandomsfeminismandme @missadored

[sim0nril3y]

12 Days of Kinkmas | Day One: Toys

Note: It is the begining of the 12 Days of Kinkmas and we are starting off with toys! Enjoy! Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), established relationship, use of toys (m receiving), oral (m receiving), handjob (m receiving), canon-typical swearing.

After an evening out with your girlfriends having a little Christmas celebration with some festive cocktails, pulling of Christmas crackers and even a joyful present exchange. You had purchased a nice stationery set for your chosen friend and the one that had received your name had gotten you a very interesting present. It sent you into a fit of laughter but then your mind had spiralled with dozen different ideas.

As you had returned home to Simon, he was watched football highlights on the TV, finishing his second beer of the night, eyes flitting from the screen and then back to where you were happily telling him about your evening. “… Oh, and I got a present…” You held out the festive themed bag, tag hanging off with the writing ‘Hope you have a very Merry Christmas xo’

“Lucky you…” Simon mentioned, slipping the silk handles from your fingers and peaking inside, seeing a box tucked away inside. “You already opened this?” Quirking a brow and gazing in your direction as you nodded in response at him. “You know only naught girls open their presents early…” He muttered with a teasing edge to his tone. “Well, I think you’re going to want to open this one too, Simon~”

A moment later he tugged open the bag and pulled out a box. A frown plastered his lips as he turned it around to view the proud display of a small wand vibrator across the front, descriptive words announcing just how powerful the device was and the amount of settings that it had. “Bloody hell.” Simon muttered, glancing at you then with a little smirk. “What’ve you been telling your friends about me? They think I can’t make you cum or something?”

The most delightful giggle fell from your lips. “No, I think I know who this is from and they are just very sex positive.” Then shrugging a little as you pinched it from his hands and observed the box. “They probably gifted it for us to use together~” You teased with a wiggle of your brows.

For a moment Simon looked frazzled, then laughed. “Seems like more of a gift for you, love.” Then patting your knee. “I’m not opposed to you having fun with it though.” He squeezed then gently with a tender smile. “Go on. Up to bed. I’ll be up in a bit.”

The toy remained in the box until well over a week later, Simon was laying back on your bed, legs spread with you knelt between them, carefully removing your mouth from Simon’s rigid cock and glancing up into his eyes with a mischiefs smile on your face. “Why don’t we give our new toy a try?” Your hand wrapped around and massaging his cock up and down slowly.

“Babe…” Simon huffed, head tilted back into the pillow and choking out a soft moan. “It’s not gonna… gonna feel good for me. You use it and I’ll watch.” He encouraged softly, brushing his thumb across your cheek soothingly. “How do you know it won’t feel good if you don’t try?” Tilting your head into his touch gently and nuzzling into him. “We can take it slow. We can take it at your pace, baby.” You coaxed.

For a moment or two Simon remained quiet and then you said. “I don’t want to pressure you. I won’t-” “We can try.” Cutting you off and gazing at you warmly. Simon can feel the excitement rushing through you, the way your hand squeezes his length and then excitedly reach into the bedside draw to yank it open and tug out the box. It was clear this wasn’t the first time that you were opening it, the box opened with ease and the toy rolled out into your open palm. “If you don’t like it, I’ll stop.” You promised in a sweet tone, beginning to speed up your hand on his cock, tapping the button on the vibrator and smiling as it buzzed to life.

“Babe-” Each of times thoughts and worries seemed to wash away the moment that the head of the vibrator nestled against the underside of the head of his cock. “Fuckin’ hell.” He grit out through his teeth, chin tilted up and panting gently before glancing back down at your overly pleased face. “That feel good?”

Reaching out Simon’s hand gripped onto your wrist, holding it between his fingers so tight you were sure that it was going to leave marks. “Do you want more or less?” You questioned, glancing up at him to try and gauge his reaction.

“K-keep going.” Simon ground out in particularly a snarl, tilting his head back again as his hips arched up. “Okay~” You purred playfully, carefully rolling the vibrator around the head of his cock trying to find the most sensitive place to play with.

There was no denying that Simon looked so damn handsome like this. His strong form was pulled taut, flexing and rippling each time you tried a new place. His cock was leaking down over your hand down, fighting back an intense orgasm that was going to burst from him. “D-don’t st-stop…” He requested in little more than a grunt, his hips flexing upwards to attempt to fuck into your hand. “Hey… Hey…” You coaxed him softly. “Let me… let me do this for you.”

Carefully moving the vibrator his shaft and nestling it under his balls that were drawn up tight, leaning forward you wrapped your lips around the engorged head of his cock, listening to him groan lowly. It was a mere few minutes of suckling before Simon emptied into your mouth with a low grunt, eyes rolling, toes curling, muscles contacting.

Turning off the vibrator and placing it aside Simon huffed and whined, body convulsing a few more times before practically melting into the sheets. “You okay?” You questioned, rubbing your hand over his lower stomach soothingly. “Yeah…” Simon huffed. “Yeah, m’good.” Glancing down at you with tired dark eyes, soft smile playing on his lips. “Good.” You giggled gently. “Does this mean that you’re gonna trust me next time that I say something is gonna feel good?” Your free hand rubbed his inner thigh and Simon smirked before snatching it away and growling out. “Don’t push it.”

12 Days of Kinkmas | Regular Masterlist | Ask | 14-12-2023

[ssahotchnerr]

thinking about celebrating jacks bday with aaron🥺

like maybe it’s just a chill year and you guys just go out for dinner and do cake later in the day

or bday party with all his friends and it’s star wars themed

awww yes 🥹 tw food, the haley part makes me want to sob btw

jack's birthday happens to fall on a weekday, so he has school, both you and aaron have work.

so when you wake him up!!! hehe you shower him with sooo much love and make sure his morning is off to the bestest start. both you and aaron tease him a bit too 🤭 - asking why and how is he growing up so fast and to please stop so he can be your little jack forever (and jack pinky promises he always will be 😭😭😭)

instead of the usual oatmeal or cereal for breakfast, aaron got jack's favorite doughnuts 🥹 and hehe you even put a birthday candle on one so you can sing happy birthday to him before he's off to school. and if there's time, jack gets to open one present to tie him over for the day 🥰

you also pack jack's lunch with some fun surprises too <33 maybe instead of a sandwich, he gets a lunchable which is a somewhat rare occurrence and he is THRILLED to find it at lunchtime. also!! you baked brownies for jack's class so they can all celebrate him, but you put an extra brownie in his lunch to spoil him just a lil more

and after school <333 you lounge around with jack until aaron gets home 🥹 since it was his birthday, he has a no homework pass from his teacher 🫶🏻 so you hear all about his fun day, watch his favorite movie, play with the gift he got that morning (legos), and hehe jack is sooooo impatient for aaron to get home to begin all the birthday festivities; he just keeps asking you "whennn is dad gonna get home🥺"

and when he (finally) does 🥰🥰🥰 jack opens the rest of his presents, the three of you go to his favorite restaurant (or order it to go to enjoy in the comfort of home, whatever jack's feeling), and finish the day off with birthday cake of course <333 and if jessica is available!!! she joins as well 🫶🏻

and 🥺 at bedtime, the three of you snuggle up closely in jack's bed, and aaron get's jack's 'haley candle' for him to talk to her - this is a must on his birthday. jack tells her about his day, his favorite things he's done the past year, and anything he wants to do the next 🥺 (and while jack doesn't express any sadness per se - he's just talking to haley so easily and naturally - you peek over at aaron and see him very quickly swipe away a tear☹️☹️☹️☹️ you stretch your arm out behind jack to give aaron's shoulder a comforting squeeze 🥺) (wait i wanna write a blurb about this) once the candle is extinguished, jack get's his goodnight forehead kisses, and both you and aaron tell him how much you love him, and how much he is loved, and wish him happy birthday just one more time 🥹

and over the weekend!!! jack's two birthday parties 🥳 one with all his friends, at some bounce-house place or something of the sorts. (pls aaron just in complete dad mode😭 wearing a tshirt and dad jeans, standing there with arms crossed 🤨 as he supervises the kids and assists you as needed <3333) AND one with the bau family of course 🥰🥰🥰

[madebycloud]

Melting

wednesday addams x fem!reader — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: you went trick or treating with your girlfriend. warnings/themes: fluff, soft!wednesday (ooc eheh), halloween, trick-or-treating, making out words: 1.8k

'Tis the witching season! 

The whole neighborhood is in a festive mood, with ghouls and ghosts lurking around, kids dressed up as their favorite or the scariest characters. 

Now, there's someone who couldn't care less about all the hoopla. 

You know Wednesday doesn't like to be all sunshine and rainbows, but secretly, you've always wished she would let her guard down and have some fun. 

“It's overrated,” she scoffs. But if there's one thing that can sway her, it's you. 

The nostalgia. You missed those carefree days when your only worry was scoring as much candy as possible in one night. And now you have the perfect opportunity to go back to your child self and relive those memories. 

“Pleeeeeeaaaaase Wednesday,” you whine, dropping to your knees and clasping your hands in front of her. 

She doesn't bat an eye. She just continues to write, her fingers moving across the typewriter. 

“Please baby, please love, please,” you try again, pulling out all the stops—cute silly nicknames, puppy dog eyes that you know she secretly adores. “It'll be super fun.” 

Finally, she stops writing. She lifts her head and turns to face you. She pauses for a long moment, considering your plea. “Fine. But only on one condition,” she starts. “I know it's important to you—so I'll indulge your request. This is just a one-time thing. We won't be making this a habit.” 

“Just... once?” 

“Just once,” she repeats. 

You think for a moment. “...okay.” You nod. “But I'll choose the costume.” 

She raised an eyebrow. “Fine, no funny business. Let's make this quick and clean, understood?” 

“Understood.” You grinned.

—

“Hey there, Mario!” you exclaim with an exaggerated Italian accent while waving your hands around, trying to mimic how he does it. “It's-a-me, Luigi, your lovable sidekick!” 

“It's-a-me, Luigi? I don't know which I hate more—my ridiculous costume or your ridiculous sense of humor.”

Her eyes narrowed as she looked down at the garish plumber's costume she was forced to wear. She even had to wear a fake mustache. “I can't believe I let you convince me to wear this ridiculous costume.”

You shrugged nonchalantly, ignoring the daggers she was sending your way. “Don't worry, no one will recognize you as Wednesday with this get-up.” You winked, but she was having none of it. “Besides, this is just a 'one-time' thing, right?”

She groaned inwardly. “Just make sure you carry this, you have a stronger arm.” With a huff, she hands you the pumpkin. “After all, you're the one who suggested this fiasco, so the least you could do is carry the stupid thing.”

Her hand snaked around your wrist, her grip was so tight you could feel it even through your gloves. 

You both made your way to Jericho, the streets were alive with kids in crazy costumes running around, laughing and shouting as they made their way to different houses. The streets are lined with jack-o'-lanterns and spider webs. 

Suddenly, you spot a house that looks amazing. There are a few children waiting outside, excitedly chattering as they anticipate a chance to fill their buckets with candy.

“Let's try that one,” you say, pointing to the house. “They look like they're giving out some good treats.”

Wednesday just nods and crosses her arms, not seeming interested in going with you to get candies. “I'll just stay here,” she insists.

“Are you sure?” you ask, pausing to look at her for a moment.

She simply nods, waiting for you to get your candies. You give her a quick smile and head towards the house. 

You ring the doorbell and wait for someone to answer. A woman with a warm smile opens the door.

“Trick or treat!” you say, holding your pumpkin out.

However, the woman looks at you with disdain. “Aren't you a little too old for this?”

The smile slips from your face as you realize what she means. But before you can say anything else, she closes the door in your face. You stand there, stunned, staring at the closed door. 

That was rude.

You returned to Wednesday, your shoulders slumping as you held up your empty pumpkin.

She looks at you with an eyebrow raised, as if to ask what happened.

You scratch the back of your neck and frown. She could almost see the smoke coming out of your ears. “She... she said I was too old for this.”

You can tell she's angry at the way you were treated, and you secretly hope she doesn't plan on getting back at the woman for her rudeness. She can't believe the audacity of that woman, as if there's an age limit for having fun.

Still, you don't let the incident put a damper on the rest of your night.

“It's fine, there's still a lot of houses we can try again,” you say, grabbing her arms and looking around for another house to approach.

But people keep telling you that you're too old for Halloween and refuse to give you candy.

Wednesday senses your disappointment and starts coming up with elaborate plans to avenge the people who have denied you treats. She seems determined to make them pay for their deeds, yet you keep trying to convince her to just move on and keep searching for sweets.

Just as you were about to give up, you came across a house with the porch light off, but you could hear giggling coming from inside. 

This time, Wednesday joins you in trick-or-treating.

Together, you knock on the door and a person in a ghost costume stands in the doorway, holding a bowl of candy. 

“Trick or treat,” you say, holding out your pumpkin for a sweet.

Wednesday's stare serves as a warning to the person not to disappoint you or suffer the consequences.

The man hesitates before finally grabbing a handful of candy from the bowl and thrusting it into your pumpkin, his hands shaking with fear.

You thank them, and Wednesday gives you a smile as you walk away. “See? Things aren't so bad after all.”

Wednesday rolls her eyes. “Let's just keep going,” she says, before pushing you forward towards the next house.

—

You were walking back from trick-or-treating, your pumpkin filled to the brim with sweets and goodies. 

“Let's go back,” Wednesday mumbled as she walked alongside you, still holding onto your hand. Her hand slipped into your biceps, yet she hardly even noticed.

You nod, prepared to return home. However, before you can leave, you hear a voice from behind you. 

“Wednesday Addams?!” the boy says in shock, recognizing her beneath the Mario costume. 

“Oh, for Christ's sake,” Wednesday muttered under her breath. She couldn't believe someone had recognized her in her stupid, ridiculous Mario costume. She could swear in her life that she's never felt so stupid.

You turned to see a boy dressed in a brightly colored insect costume, his antennae bobbing as he waved at both of you. “Hey Eugene!” 

Wednesday narrows her eyes. “What are you doing here, Eugene?”

“I came to get some candy!” He replied eagerly, his eyes sparkling, but then his eyes widened. “Wait... is that really you... Wednesday?” he asks, taking a step forward. 

Wednesday clenches her jaw and you stifle a laugh, amused by her reaction. You offer Eugene some candy from your pumpkin, and he excitedly accepts it, thanking you.

“Eugene, can you take a picture of us?” you request, handing him your phone. 

Wednesday snapped her head in your direction, her eyebrows furrowed as she glared at you. She's just about lost it. She swore in her mind that she would never take a picture wearing this ridiculous costume.

You flung your arm around her and gave a peace sign as Eugene held up your phone. You chuckle and give Wednesday's waist a reassuring squeeze.

“Three, two...”

Wednesday knows she will be miserable. But she looked at your smile and realized that, despite her aversion to the costume, she didn't want to ruin your fun. So she reluctantly struck a peace sign, hoping that no one would recognize her under that ridiculous mustache.

“One!” the flash flickers, and the photo is captured. 

She couldn't deny the warmth in her chest as she watched the picture saved to your phone.

—

You realized that your feet were starting to feel tired after walking so much. Eager to rest your tired legs, the two of you made your way over to a nearby bench, tucked away amidst the shadows of the trees. 

Wednesday is now holding the pumpkin-shaped basket full of sweets while you gaze up at the stars in the sky. She eventually pulled out one of the candies and popped it into her mouth.

“Taste good?” You turn to look at her. 

“Tastes like poison,” she teases before popping it into her mouth.

You can't help but stare at her lips. Why did her lips look like they were begging to be kissed?

“Do you want one?” Wednesday asks, seemingly reading your thoughts. 

You were almost too stunned to speak, but a soft “yes” managed to escape your lips. 

Small smile formed on her lips, as though she knew exactly what she was doing. She offered the candy before you swallowed it whole, savoring the sweetness on your tongue. 

A glance at her lips and then back at her eyes told her everything she needed to know.

Before you knew it, Wednesday had leaned in to share the sweet with you, her lips soft and supple on yours, the taste of candy still lingering on your tongue.

When you finally pulled away, you were left weak in the knees and breathless.

Wednesday's lips part slightly, her breath brushing against your cheek. You lean in again, but she stops you with a gentle hand on your chest.

“One condition,” she whispers.

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. 

“I get to choose the costume next year.”

“We're going to trick or treat again next year?” you ask, grinning. “Fine,” you concede, “your choice of costume next year then.”

With Wednesday's permission granted, you lean in for another kiss, this time lingering even longer than before. Your lips lock together in a sensual dance. 

But you pull away, teasing her. “Wait.”

“What now?”

“Well, I was thinking we could dress up as Remy and his human companion, Alfredo from Ratatouille.”

Wednesday's eyes narrow, clearly annoyed at your choice.

“Okay, I admit, that was a terrible idea, but what about SpongeBob and Patrick? or I can go as Squidward, and we can be rivals instead,” you suggest, desperate to find a costume she'll actually like.

She rolls her eyes, but you could already see the corner of her lips twitching up into a small smile. “You did not just suggest that.”

“Oh yes I did.”

“I'm not dressing up as a rat with a chef's hat next year, that's for sure. And you're not going to make me dress up as a sponge either.”

You smirk. “Maybe not, but I'll still find a way to make you dress up as something ridi—”

Before you finish your sentence, Wednesday's lips are on yours once more, drowning out your words. Her fingers glide down your jaw as she draws you in closer.

“That's it,” she whispers between kisses. “You're stuck with me now.”

And you wouldn't want it any other way.

note: me

[filmnoirsbian]

People get VERY weird about summer online tbh and I think it stems from the introverted nature of most very-online people so they don't know or appreciate the epic highs and lows of outdoor music festivals or theme parks and other summer fun activities. "If you like summer it's because you live somewhere that doesn't get hot" I grew up in the south and have lived in tropical places. "Poor people suffer in the summer" poor people suffer every time of year. You can dislike summer btw but the way people on here treat summer like a serial killer is so...she's just flirty ☹

[hitomisuzuya]

Happy birthday! Fun fact: here in Brasil there is a festival called "Festival Okinawa" (how creative) and it's usually held in this time of the year. I went there yesterday, it was so fun! And I found a Scara cosplayer there (I almost went as Nahida but in the end, that didn't happened, and I cried after).

But hey, in the festival theme, imagine bf!Wanderer going back to inazuma just because their partner really wanted to go to a festival that was happening at the time, but since his partner wasn't from there (maybe they meet as scholars in the akademia) it would be their first time wearing/ experiencing things from Wanderer's culture (aside from the food, since our boy male wife cooks).

I just think it would flip something in his brain so much! The way reader's body is wrapped in a kimono, the glimer in their eyes when they see something they don't know, how cute they look, just make Wanderer want to tease, love, worship and (most likely) do pervert stuff to them.

Maybe im going to a more scummy Scara way?? But if you could elaborate it more it would be amazing hehe. Again, happy birthday <33

Wanderer x fem! Smut. Semi public filth. Fingering. Cunilligus. Some fluff. Tagged as Scummy Scara.

That festival sounds so fun! I would love to go myself one day. I had fun writing this cause I have never been to a festival either. And oh hell yes, he definitely cooks. Gotta one up his mama after all and be good at something she isn't😌

"Don't laugh, okay?" You said, peeking out from around the bathroom door. You peered at Wanderer shyly, making him scoff impatiently as he crossed his arms. You sighed and opened the bathroom door, revealing yourself wrapped in an elegant kimono.

Wanderer's eyes shamelessly racked up and down your body. It hugged you all of the right places. He made a turning motion with his finger. "Well, does it look okay?" You asked, turning in a circle for him.

"It would look even better off of you," He teased, which made you hide your face in your hands. You were always so cute when you were shy. He couldn't help it. Both of you knew the kimono was coming off of you later. You just hoped he didn't tear it.

"I'm ready to go when you are," The look in your eyes when you looked up at him was one of shy excitement. Wanderer was taking you to a festival being held in Chinju Forest.

It was the first time you had ever been to something like this. The sights, the culture, the food, all of it would be completely new to you. And he would never admit it either, but he was excited to go the festival as well.

While you took in everything around you, Wanderer took you in. The way your eyes seemed to sparkle when you learned about something you weren't familiar with. The way a blush coated your cheeks when you tried food that you thought tasted good.

The way your hand would squeeze his when you walked through a large crowd of people, like you clinging to him, fearing you would get separated from him.

Your eyes seemed to shine when you looked up at him. "Do you think they have a stall with goldfish scooping in it?" You asked, looking hopeful as you carefully looked at the stalls you were passing.

You even looked delicate as she trotted up to the stall Wanderer pointed out to you. So fragile. Every moment with you was breathtaking.

Your naive innocence made him want to fuck you full of his cum, whispering sweet praises in your ear about how a fragile, delicate little thing like you needed to be fucked dumb on his cock.

Wanderer stood behind you with his hands on your hips, looking down at the fish with you. His cheeks flushed hearing the way you cooed to them about how cute you thought they all were.

"Look, Scara. There is one that matches the color of your eyes," You said, pointing at an indigo colored goldfish.

Wanderer scoffed, massaging his fingers teasingly into your hips just to fluster you. You were always so sensitive to his touches. "Concentrate or he is going to get away from you," He purred in your ear, trying to distract you.

"Scara, you are messing me up," You protested, making him chuckle softly in your ear. "Oh no," The goldfish suddenly flopped up out of the net.

Wanderer took the net and the scoop from your hands, catching the fish in the bag before it could flop back into the bowl. The fish had dizzy swirls in his eyes when he handed you the bag.

Your eyes lit up.

A goldfish had yet to get the best of him.

"Wow, that was amazing, Scara," You said, looking up at him with utter adoration. He smirked. Oh please go on, he knew how great he was.

"Ha, as if I couldn't do something as simple as this," Wanderer scoffed, paying the vender at the stall for the goldfish. He rolled his eyes when you said you were going to name the fish Mr. Bubbles.

You were being too adorable for your own good.

Perhaps the best part of the festival for him was the way your eyes lit up when you watched fireworks flash and burst in the sky. You marvelled at them, saying they were like flowers blooming to life in the sky.

Well, that was one of the best parts of the festival for him, anyways.

The very best part for Wanderer was when he pulled you into an abandoned house near the forest with the fireworks still going off in the sky.

Your kimono has fallen off of one shoulder as he pinned you against the wall, his hands groping all over your body. He rumpled the kimono up your hips, his fingers pushing your panties aside after it travelled down between your legs.

"Mm, ah, Scara," You moaned, rolling your hips up into his fingers, beckoning him to push them inside of you. Even your face as you melted in pleasure against the wall was a sight to behold for him.

He fucked his fingers inside of you until your cunt was clenching around them, your slick coating his fingers and his wrist. You whimpered in protest when he withdrew his fingers, "Scara, I was about to cum."

"What a wet little slut you are," He purred, shoving his fingers into your mouth, making you taste yourself. "And so whiney."

Wanderer pumped his fingers in and out of your mouth, watching transfixed at the way drool pooled from the corners of your mouth. You moaned happily as you sucked on his fingers.

Wanderer's hands slid down your body as he dropped to his knees. He pushed your kimono further up your thighs, peeling your drenched panties off.

You gasped in pleasure feeling his tongue flick out across your clit. He seemed instantly drunk on how your tastes, his tongue lapping greedily on your cunt.

You clamped a hand over your mouth to stifle your loud moans. Wanderer smoothed his hands on your thighs, smirking at how cute you looked trying to hold yourself back from crying out as loudly as you could for him.

"I'd better be able to hear you over the fireworks," He growled, vibrating it against your clit. Your hand dropped from your mouth, finding the back of his head to press his face deeper into your cunt.

Your eyes were glazed over in a haze of fucked out adoration by the time he made you squirt on his tongue. He happily slurped and lapped up anything you had to offer him.

The things he was going to do you when he got you back home. Your cunt wasn't going to be able to hold all of his cum.

After all, an innocent thing like you deserved to worshipped and filled full.

[undercoverpena]

make me like the holidays

marcus pike x f!reader | marcus masterlist

written for 12 Days of Pedro

summary: you're not the biggest fan of the holidays, so marcus makes it his mission to change that with a christmas market and a gift you have to wear.

wordcount: 3.6k warnings: smutty-themes, a teeny bit of orgasm denial, you consent to wear a vibrator controlled by marcus, vibrator worn in public, outdoor orgasm, christmas themes, marcus being a tease, his dimples, his smile, him.

an: huge thank you to @hellishjoel for asking me to be a part of this, and to @thetriumphantpanda for holding my hand, answering questions about warnings, and reading this as i shoved it at her face.

“So, what? You just don’t like the holidays?”

Snorting, you slide your fork around your bowl, licking your lips.

Because you knew eventually this would come up.

"I didn't... say that," you reply, averting your eyes. Mouth opening, closing again, unsure where to begin.

How to start.

How to begin to explain the odd feeling you get around this festive time of year. How your eyes don’t light up at tall Christmas trees, and instead your heart sinks whenever you see one of those adverts where the family all meet excitedly for the holidays.

It doesn’t matter how you dress it up—whether you hang tinsel or baubles—it always seems like an odd time of year. And because of that, It makes people pity you, aww at you, feel compelled to leave candy canes on your desk and purposefully add you to their Christmas card list, as though it's going to fix the decades of memories.

Placing your fork down, and you sigh. “I guess. I-I just don’t get super excited for it.”

Marcus is already thinking—you can tell.

The faintest line begins to appear between his brows, deepening the more he stares, drowning you in a brown you’re forever grateful to get the chance to wake up to every, single, day.

Leaning across the breakfast bar, he smirks—all devil, no angel. “I think I could change that.”

“Oh. Is that so?”

Nodding, his breath dances over your skin—all tantalising—before he softly slants his lips over yours, biting carefully on the bottom of your lip.

“That how you’re going to convince me, Pike—using underhand tactics such as your mouth?”

Snorting, he leaves his fingers lingering under your chin. “That’s a last resort. I think I can convince you in other ways to see how magical it can be with me.”

“You sound very confident.”

He smiles, and it makes something twist inside of you—a worry growing there, planting itself, all ready to grow into something ugly that he’ll eventually see. Be the thing at the top of the list when he inevitably realises he can do better than you.

Stroking your skin, he sighs. Not heavy, nor soft. Something in the middle. “I’m still going to love you if you hate the holidays, baby.”

Smiling, you look down at the counter—the one the two of you eat at whenever you can now, taking what hours you can have together.

“I promise,” he whispers. “But, you think you can let me try and make it special for you? Show you that there’s nothing quite like a Pike Christmas?”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you let out a heavy sigh, meeting his eyes—somehow feeling yourself fall even deeper in love with him when you do.

“How can I say no to such an offer.”

Bundled up, wrapped in layers—including his scarf—your gloved hand slides into his, fingers awkwardly trying to find the home between his, almost wanting to pout at the fact you couldn’t feel his palm against yours.

“Comfortable?”

There’s a sparkle to his eye, made worse by the smirk that accompanies it. The one you imagine he’s been wearing since he’d handed you the bag stuffed with tissue, arms folding as he leans in the doorway.

It’s a little bit of fun, he had said.

Your fingers unfold it, unwrapping it free as your eyes immediately land on the box containing the little purple device and its remote.

“I know the season isn’t your favourite thing, but I thought this might make it more enjoyable.”

Narrowing your eyes, you stare at the box.

“Thought it could give you something to be excited about,” he adds, tone shifting—more silky than normal. “Now, whether you’re on the nice or naughty list today, is down to you.”

"Oh, Santa Pike. Please put me on the good girls list."

Grinning, his fingers slid over your jaw as he kissed you, "I think you'd prefer to be on my naughty list, baby."

Now, that same purple, unboxed gift is resting against you, flush. Stuffed and held in position by the underwear he helped you choose—the lace of it keeping it very much in place. And while it isn’t currently switched on, but you know he could change that at any moment—the remote buried in his pocket, all within his grasp.

A thought which makes heat lick up your spine and an ember of worry knot in your stomach—

At any point you change your mind, you tell me, baby. You hear me? Just say the word.

Clearing your throat, you curl into his arm, staring up at him—watching him take in the run of wooden huts, fairy lights and overt cheer.

“Let me guess, you have a to-do list for today?”

Smirking, his arm comes around you keeping you close, before he pinches your side. “No. We’re gonna see what we get up to.”

Squinting playfully, you brush the edge of his stubbly chin. “I’m not buying it. You have a plan.”

Shaking his head, his teeth tease his lip, nose almost flush with yours. “No plan—just want a lovely day with my girl…”

Hovering your lips over his. “But?”

His eyes slowly close, nose scrunching—lips spreading into the biggest, most foolish smile. “We have to start with a festive drink—”

“I fucking knew it, Pike. Fine, come on.”

But, he doesn’t let you budge, not even as you grumble, grasping your hips, yanking you close.

He gives you a look, a pointed one—all accompanied by a grin. It’s all shit-eating, spreading delightfully up into his cheeks. One you’d usually brush over with the pads of your index fingers.

"You don't sound like you're having a good time, baby."

"Marcus..."

You don’t move them this time—leave them on his waist. Feeling his hand slide into his pocket. And you brace.

It’s the only way you’re able to stifle the soft moan which attempts to slide through your teeth and burn the air as it buzzes. Light, but good. Your breath was suddenly a challenge to find, made worse by his watchful stare.

Lashes fluttering, gloved fingers gripping into the side of his jacket as you let your breath paint against his neck. It’s all building—layering itself on thickly atop the earlier ‘testing’ he had done earlier. When you had whined his name, been tempted to shed the many layers and keep warm in an entirely different way with him.

“That feel good?” he asks, low, breathy—only able to formulate a nod.

Then, it stops.

Blinking, your thoughts suddenly cleaner, more appropriate—things beginning to speckle back into your mind.

“Kiss?” he asks, the request falling from his tongue like silk.

“Depends how good the drink is.”

It turns out, it’s delicious.

Marcus had practically whispered the name of the drink he recommended into your ear—having likely noticed the overwhelmed expression slowly etching into your face.

Trust me his expression reads, as if you’d ever trust anyone else.

As soon as the taste of his recommendation met your tongue, your body almost welcomed the season with open arms. Your groan wasn't even buried as your eyes widened at the taste, at him for suggesting it—watching him smirk before he looped his arm around your waist.

“Thoughts?”

Smiling, you almost reply that you like being close to him, preferably forever choosing to be pressed close to him. You find it calming, suddenly no problems ever seem that big when he’s next to you.

Swallowing that, you glance at him, knowing it would be easy to fight the smirk. To act placid, add a shrug, sell it. But, his eyes have widened a fraction, pupils a mere dot in a sky of brown, with the reflection of the lights acting like stars.

The hope etched into his expression is what puts the final nail in your attempt at nonchalance.

“It’s good.”

Brows rising, he grins. “Yeah?”

Nodding, you take another sip. The flavours of the hot chocolate coating your mouth as you slide your arm around his waist. The feel of his lips against your forehead spreading an additional warmth through you, that the drink would never have available.

You’re almost sad when it ends.

Not that he lets you sit in that. Quickly, he takes your cup from you, placing both in a nearby trash can, before he’s pulling you back to him. For the briefest of moments, you just stare, admiring the way you see the outline of yourself in the pool of his eyes, the way you get to witness the way his adoration spreads across his face—all lit up by swinging fairy lights in the gentle, winter breeze.

“Got cream on your lip, baby,” he whispers, tongue swiping across your bottom lip—nowhere close to the site he pointed out.

And then you feel it again.

The thrum which spreads through you, is pressed against your bundle of nerves, making your thighs quake on fixed and solid ground. With the addition of his mouth on yours, the waves lap more feverishly, it all building, all desperate to crash.

Your fingers grasp onto him, teeth piercing into his bottom lip as he kisses you, letting you bury a moan into his mouth—and Marcus is happy to swallow it. Gleefully getting to feel and taste the way he makes you feel as your walls flutter, tightening—wishing for more. Needing more. Almost begging for it when you catch his gaze.

“You know how good you look right now?”

And then it stops. Your breath hitching. Skin prickling with warmth as you let a gasp escape—it weaving into the air, encased in vapour as you blink.

“W-what’s next?”

He grins, it rising up until his dimple appears. His palm flattening to the back of your coat, fingers sliding in pulses.

“Thought we could pick decorations for our tree.”

Brows raising, you turn your head, looking at him, finding him already watching you. Something is spreading in you, a symbolic bandage extending out from his touch to around the places warped and scarred from years of bad memories.

“Our?”

Kissing your head again, you hear him repeat that one word: our.

Just like he had done when he’d moved the last box of yours, you asking whether his place would get your favourite burgers delivered—ours, baby. Ours. It felt it, too. He’d made sure of that. Created space on shelves, and moved ornaments from their homes to allow yours to have a place.

So, it wasn’t out of reach he’d do the same with his holiday, his tradition.

“What if you hate my taste?”

Snorting, he brushes your cheek. “You know I love the way you taste.”

Rolling your eyes, he laughs.

“I could never hate your taste, baby. I love everything about you.” His hand drops, and he takes a sip of his drink as you do the same. “Plus, you chose me. Can’t be all bad.”

He’s kind to you when you’re handling the baubles, even more, when the two of you wander hand-in-hand through tightly packed huts.

Your hands point out things, not just for the two of you, but for others—his parents, a friend. It allows your guard to drop, and your brain to temporarily forget the device resting snugly against the swollen nerves desperate for him—even if you’re aware of how soaked your underwear is. How it clings, how it brushes nicely against you when the two of you walk from place to place.

Marcus becomes less kind when you’re in the queue for a sugary snack, your mouth busy explaining to him where you best think the tree can go in his place—a thing he corrects to ours at every chance he can.

“You almost sound like you’re getting into all of this.”

Smiling, you rest your head against his shoulder in the line. “Maybe it’s the company.”

“Yeah,” he whispers, voice low, the corner of your eye-catching his other hand sliding into his pocket. “Could be that.”

“Marcus.”

He just raises his brow, a sly smirk passing over him, before you feel him flick it on. “How else are you going to remember that it’s our place, baby?”

Every nerve, the ones previously all frayed, now lit up—just like the tree in the centre of the market. Your mind empties with a press of a button, fingers sliding inside his open coat, grasping for him—for grip.

“You excited about the holidays now?”

Fuck, you hate him, because yes—if it’s like this you’ll forever adore Pike holidays. You’ll wish for them, count down to them on your calendar. Ticking off in red pen, making a point to excitedly cross each one of them off.

Because the two of you haven’t even put the tree up yet.

There’s still so much prep, so much you suspect he wants to replace with good, better—more excitable—memories.

“Bet you’re wet,” he whispers.

And you glare at him, unsure if it’s with adoration or anger. Both merging, swirling—concocting into something you can’t stifle as your cheeks warm and your ears burn. Because there are people around—families, small children.

“Take me home,” you plead. “Please?”

Pressing your thighs together you find only makes it worse. The pulses are far more forceful, and better aimed directly at the already needy parts of you.

The ones which he’s usually so attentive with, barely keeping you like this, all wanting and not satisfied. Marcus barely lets the knot in your stomach tighten usually, but now, you think he’s having fun with it. Likely admiring the way your pupils are swallowing colour and a sheen is crossing over the skin on show. Because you’re warm, too hot— there are too many fucking layers and not enough of him pressed against you—

“Need you, Marcus.”

His fingers brush against your chin, aiding you to take a step forward as the queue moves. “I know, but be good for me.” His mouth close to your ear, hand impossibly tight on your hip—keeping you pressed against him, able to lean, let him take your weight as your legs shake. “You deserve this—”

Your lips part, and all attempts at levelling your breathing fail, falling away from your grip. Feeling the focus on the surroundings fading, black spots appearing—this game of taunt and tease having made you so impossibly shaky on your legs.

And he turns it up.

Moves it to the next one up, an up-and-down kind of vibration. It feels good, but then it lessens—a momentary break, a chance to mumble his name less in a whine—before it returns like a second wave.

It pulsing. Something akin to a rollercoaster, a high and a low—it comes around in slow circles that makes it hard to know whether you’re close to coming or growing more frustrated.

“You want something with chocolate or prefer just sugar?”

You try to speak, mouth moving close to his ear, but only a moan escapes. Low, coming from somewhere deep in your soul as his grip tightens on your hip. The speed slowed for a moment, likely settling itself up to do another build-up.

It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters.

Your legs are unstable, more jelly than muscle and bone. It’s all too much, but not quite enough either—just needing that fraction more to stop teetering on the edge and fall over, filling with bliss, and pleasure.

Each time he slides his hand over your hip or back, you have to swallow a whimper of his name. Dangling against the edge, dangerously so—only one little push and you’d be falling, freely, willingly, likely moaning and making an embarrassment of yourself so close to Santa’s fucking grotto.

“If,” you begin, hand to his chest, fingers trying to find skin, something, anything, his still around your waist, practically bruisingly, clutching the many paper bags against you, “we go home now, we might have time to put the tree up.”

You watch him smirk, how it hits his eyes—making the twinkling lights pale under the brightness of his expression.

“Then,” you continue, lips sliding close to his ear, “you can—shit—do something no one has ever done.”

He swallows, loudly—not even swallowed by the choir. “What’s that?”

Smiling, licking your lips. “Fuck me under it.”

Pinching your side, you swear you hear him grunt.

You barely register that you’re being dragged, hip to his, being led—the little device working its magic against your drenched cunt as you pass by choir singers and a person dressed like an elf until it’s suddenly quieter.

Bags dropped to the side of you, back pressed against the side of a hut—the roof casts a shadow over his face, but his eyes still shine. They’re bright and alert. Drinking you in like you’re the only thing that he can see, ever wants to see.

"No one can see us, I promise."

You believe him. It's the only reason you allow yourself to release a pathetic moan before your fingers dig into his pocket. Searching through receipts and his phone, finding it. The thing which weighs more than gold to you, the remote that has the chance to make or break you right now.

It clicks with such ease.

Every muscle in your tightens, your eyes clench shut, all but vanishing winter wonderland from sight and painting a new picture on the back of your lids. Him—naked. Stood all soft muscles and his signature smirk. His room—ours, you hear it in your head, ours baby, ours—surrounding you.

You’re on fire.

Cracking an eye open, finding him watching—in awe, captivated like you’re a sight to behold. And maybe, clutching the remote in your hand, you were. Maybe you were illuminated in a heavenly glow and looking as though you could melt the fake snow around the two of you—you feel you could, anyway, just from the look he wears.

The fact the two of you are just focused, lost in only the other as he keeps you against the side of the empty hut—thankful, happy, that at least one of the stalls hadn’t opened so you couldn’t be heard being held against it, mind being lost to the buzzing in your underwear.

“Who knew you were so dirty?”

“You love it,” you moan, ghosting your lips over his.

Needing a little more, craving a little more.

Please, please, please you think over and over.

He takes it from your shaking fingers, sliding his knee between your thighs—pressing it more defiantly against you, flush, likely feeling the vibrations through his bones as you moan his name. Sketch it into the air, write it there, never wishing it would fade—

More, Marcus. Please, baby. Please.

You’re aching. Your ears flood with buzzing as liquid heat spreads through you when he clicks once, twice—thrice. Landing on a setting he must have seen in the instructions.

And it’s bliss.

It’s mind-melting, muscle surrendering. Your hand cupping the side of his neck, nails digging in, needing to feel him, know he’s there—wishing it was his fingers, wishing he was heavy against you. That weight you crave, that sensation of just him.

Close, so close—

You say it like he wouldn’t know. Like you can’t feel the way he’s looking for signs across your face, likely knowing more about how close you are than you even do. He spends enough time making you feel good. Too good to you, always has been, ever since the moment the two of you met, and you’re grateful, happy, content, fucking over the moon, sun and stars—

“What do you need, baby?”

“You,” you whine.

Just you, only you. Only ever you.

The coil in your stomach tightens, the knot having formed something which can shatter with far too much ease, and it does shatter.

You snap. Break. Fall apart.

He drags your face against his neck, letting you curse, and moan. His name crying out from your lips, until it falls in softer waves from your tongue, splaying across his skin, tattooing him. Squirming close to him, suddenly at ease, shoulders sliding from your ears.

“Marcus,” you whine, differently.

And you’re grateful it stops, him switching it off—a grin breaking out in its wake. Your breath slowly comes back to you, your chest unloosening from trying to bury all your pants.

That’s when you’re finally able to take him in and see the way he’s still staring, so lost in you. His mouth parted, the softest smile trying to stitch into his cheeks, eyes moving around the features of your face.

You just let him stare, and he lets you gaze. Only blinking, letting the rest of the world in when you hear a bunch of kids walk past the end of the hut, loudly laughing.

“I think I could like a Christmas with you.”

Grinning, he pockets the remote, his hand coming to your cheek. “Yeah? I told you I’d make it special for you.”

Nodding, you kiss him. Soft at first, before it deepens, nipping at his bottom lip—finding yourself meeting the hut again, his palm beside your head, able to taste the sweetness of his drink from earlier, the cream, chocolate and ginger—

“I was serious…” you mumble, “earlier.”

Pausing, he lifts his head.

“About the tree, what we could do under it.” Sliding your hand down his front, you cup him, feeling how hard he is, fingers sliding either side of him. “Think you deserve a special day too.”

“Really?”

Biting your lip, you nod, slowly at first—then more purposefully.

“Fuck, I love you, baby.”

an: merry pike christmas ;)

[jo-harrington]

Team Building (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: No one does Halloween quite like the Hellfire Club, and you just so happened to have promised to join them.

Previous Part: Closing Time

Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Reader works at the Claire's at StarCourt. Eddie works at TapeWorld. Mutual Pining and Slow Burn, Fluffy Fluff, Trick or Treating

Note: HAPPY HALLOWEEN and welcome back to the Store Manager Verse. I actually wanted to be further along with my chronological releases but it just never happened. This one is definitely probably one of the best timed releases with the holiday but there's a minor note that there's...maybe a reference to a yet-to-be published installation of the story. Eddie and SM are gonna be going on a little road trip at some point and will meet some of SM's family. DONT EVEN WORRY ABOUT IT FOR NOW. Just enjoy the shenanigans.

You can find my masterlist here for more featuring our resident Store Manager and all of my other writing.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

"You look cute today."

"Thanks!"

"You need to look less cute next week. We're doing zombies, remember?"

"Got it."

Every day.

"Did you pick up that fake blood from Melvalds like you promised?"

"Yeah it's at home."

"Ok great because...because I was a little afraid you were gonna forget about our plans."

"Don't worry Eddie."

He reminded you every day.

"Ok so we're meeting at Gareth's at 4 on Thursday."

"Alright I'll be there."

"No, uh, glitter makeup? We're going for realism. Shock and awe."

"I swear to god!"

Every day for an entire week, whether he was scheduled to work or not, Eddie showed up at Star Court to remind you that you had promised to go Trick or Treating with him and his friends.

It was cute endearing.

October--and more specifically Halloween--was one of your favorite times of the year at work. It was laid back and fun. No pressure from either Back to School or the Holiday rush, you could "dress up" with little costume pieces or fun makeup every day, and you could have a bowl of candy at the cash wrap that made everyone's day a little bit brighter.

And outside of work, you'd really embraced the season.

Correction, Eddie made you embrace the season.

Before moving to Hawkins, Halloween had always been incredibly...commercial. Costumes and decorations from the little seasonal aisle at the drugstore. The biggest display of candy at the grocery store that you needed to stock up on unless you wanted your house egged.

And your social life consisted, mainly, of outings with your coworkers. Pumpkin patches and haunted hayrides almost always became team building activities. That wasn't to say your coworkers--new and old--weren't your friends too.

But with Eddie...it was different.

A harvest festival outside of Muncie, horror movies late at night during a thunderstorm, warm apple cider at Merrill's Farm while looking for gourds that were shaped like your heads. Pumpkin carving on the porch at the trailer, cutting out bats and cats from black construction paper, and now Trick or Treating with his friends.

You thought, early on in your friendship, that it was just some throw away comment. But knowing him as well as you did now, you realized that he really meant everything he said.

Every promise was purposeful, especially when it came to the people he cared about. Which was why you were sure he was determined to make the night perfect. Not only for you, but for everyone.

Especially the handful of little sheep that were newcomers to Hellfire.

"The freshman," he explained on Sunday as you worked on your costumes together. "They're little turds but...I dunno, they have potential."

You'd already heard about them at the beginning of the year as Eddie gushed about his new recruits; younger brothers that Eddie sort of always wished for but was thankful he didn't actually have.

"They're not gonna think I'm some like...weird old person right?" you laughed self-consciously, thinking back to Jeff's comment when you said you wouldn't buy them beer. And sure you were not that much older than Eddie, but you were sure you were ancient to a bunch of 14-year olds.

"You're the coolest person I know. And I'm the coolest person they know."

"You saw how my brother is though," you waved your hand dismissively. Jimmy's words--who would have guessed your boyfriend's not lame like you--wouldn't stop echoing in your head though.

Boyfriend. Boyfriend. Boyfriend.

Eddie still wasn't your boyfriend.

They must have echoed in Eddie's too because his cheeks flushed and he immediately became bashful. He ducked his head into his shoulder a little bit and refused to meet your eyes as he hacked away at the sleeves of the old flannel in his hands.

"Your brother," he finally replied, "is a little turd too. I'm sure the kids will worship you. More than they worship me. I promise. Everything will be alright."

---

Before you knew it, Thursday rolled around.

You were running late to get to the Emerson's to get ready thanks to a last minute visit from your DM. Who knew that pictures of you and your team for the company-issued costume contest would take so long?

Still, to save time, you decided not to change costumes until you got to the house. Seeing as Eddie had grand plans for everyone's face paint to make them look as close to Day of the Dead as possible, you figured you would be fine.

However, you were not expecting the entire gaggle of boys to stare at you with stars in their eyes as you stepped out of your car, duffle bag full of torn old clothes and gallon of fake blood in-hand, done up like a glam metal superstar.

Or as close to it as you could get with the accessories you carried at the store. Rainbow hair extensions and glitter spray, layers of chain jewelry, and too much cheetah print.

"You," Eddie began as he pushed through the group to get to you. His face was already a ghastly pallor thanks to a layer of facepaint from melvalds, exactly as he had envisioned. "Are a traitor and a turncoat, a disgrace to the uniform, and your status as Corroded Coffin's number one fan."

"I've literally never heard you guys play," you rolled your eyes at him.

"Did my lesson about the different types of metal mean nothing to you?" he clutched a hand over his heart and then reached out and fiddled with your jewelry. "And didn't I say no glitter."

"I just need to use the bathroom to wash it all off. Then you can make me gross and moldy like you."

"It's not mold. It's rot. Get it right." You flipped him off and he grinned. "Hey sweetheart."

"Hi."

"Nice of you to finally join us."

Eddie threw an arm around your shoulders and led you into the garage. You said hi to Jeff, Gareth, and Dave, and then he introduced you to the sheep.

Mike and Lucas and Dustin and Will.

They were all a little bashful as Eddie went down the line; it was reminiscent of when you met the others, except less fun facts and more silly tidbits meant to embarrass the kids.

Will the Wise whose worst stat was intelligence. Dustin who had a girlfriend in Utah--

"She's real, I swear."

--Mike who had already gone through two new characters because he couldn't roll to save his life. Literally. And Lucas who liked sports.

"Oh my god," you scoffed at Eddie. “You make it sound like sports are a scourge."

"They are."

"You like hockey."

"I," Eddie paused. "Tolerate hockey."

You grinned triumphantly and said hello to each of the boys before ducking into the house to get changed.

"Dude, she is way out of your league." you could hear Mike whine, followed by a dull thud of a fist hitting an arm.

"That's what we've been telling him the whole time," Dave cackled.

---

Eddie and Will were the masterminds behind the zombification process--bickering back and forth about what scar went where and how gross that pus should look as they applied facepaint--but all the boys tossed in their creative input.

"Oh my god, do you still have that rubber eyeball from lunch? We can glue it to Jeff's hand."

"What if--don't touch my hair--what if we--don't touch my hair."

"More blood! More! MORE!"

Before you knew it, two hours had passed, it was dark out and gaggles of Trick-or-Treaters were already filling the streets. Gareth's mom had set herself up on the porch with a bowl full of fun-sized candy and wished you all farewell as you took off down the sidewalk.

A veritable hoard of the undead, with ripped clothes, foaming mouths, blood-soaked hands, and pillowcases to double as treat bags.

To your surprise, there was a lot more to Trick or Treating than you had initially thought. All your childhood, you'd just gone door to door for a few blocks, rang a bell, got some candy, and at the end of the night traded treats with your brothers or your friends.

To Hellfire, it was just as involved as any of their DnD campaigns. And it's how you learned more about each of the boys, and surprisingly, more about their fearless leader.

Lucas and Mike were the perfect strategists and, as you began your trek, listed off neighborhoods that gave the best candy. You got the in-depth analysis between full-size and fun-size candies, chocolate versus peanut butter versus nougat, and you made a mental note to be more mindful of the choices you put out at the cash wrap for next year.

Dustin and Eddie were the navigators mentally mapping the distances between each neighborhood and how quickly and efficiently the group could get around.

"We should have just taken the van," Eddie scoffed when Dustin suggested Loch Nora first, the furthest trek of the night.

"No, then we'll end up back at Gareth's by 10. We just need to walk fast, it'll be perfect."

"And my mom is making a casserole for dinner," Gareth piped up. "She said you're all welcome to stay."

"Why don't we end at my place," Mike suggested. "We can just hang out in the basement and my mom will order pizza."

"No one wants to sleep in your dusty ass basement Wheeler," Dave scoffed.

"We're definitely skipping school tomorrow," Eddie pointed at all of the kids. "I hope you all know that."

Dave and Jeff, much to your surprise, were the "war generals" as they so graciously called themselves. They had a few rolls of toilet paper and a carton of eggs tucked away in their pillowcases, in case they came across--

"The enemies!!!" The older boys hollered into the starry night sky, quickly earning glares from other kids and parents as they passed.

"And who would that be?" you asked. The entire group looked at you like you'd grown a second head. "I'm sorry I'm not well-versed in Halloween mischief."

"Oh it's gonna be fun corrupting you." Eddie laughed wickedly, and started ticking off examples on his fingers. "People who tell us we're too old to trick or treat."

"I thought you said no one cared!" you exclaimed.

"Most people," he clarified, "don't care. But someone called the cops on us. What was it? Last year? Year before?" He looked at the older boys for confirmation.

"Mrs. Peterson who likes to sic her dogs on the kids who get too close to her rose bushes," Lucas offered next.

"If someone has their porch light on, but doesn't answer the door."

"When someone gives raisins instead of candy," Will supplied, ignoring Dustin's quiet, I like raisins.

The list went on: people who made fun of their costumes, the one house where the guy sat on his porch and douse kids with "holy water" for engaging in devilry.

"And Jason Carver," Eddie finished with a flourish.

They all looked at you for some kind of objection...or maybe your approval? You weren't too sure.

But at your soft nod, they all whooped and hollered and a few of the younger boys even took off running so they could jump and scare some of the kids who were just minding their own business.

"See?" Eddie asked and grabbed your hand in his as you followed at the back of the group. "And you were afraid they were gonna think you were some gross old lady. They're trying to impress you."

"Impress is a stretch."

"Ah ah ah," he shook his head. "I will hear none of it. I told them all that they were to be on their best worst behavior. Make sure you have the best time. That they are mere peasants here to serve the Queen of the Undead."

You let his hand go and pushed him away from you, even though your heart beat a little faster knowing he wanted them to behave around you.

"Go before I gnaw on your brains."

"You promise?" he waggled his eyebrows at you suggestively.

"Go!"

---

It was an eventful night.

You moaned and groaned and shuffled your way across Hawkins, just like the zombies in Romero's movies, to get all sorts of sweet treats. Candy and popcorn and fresh-dipped caramel apples that someone was making in their yard in Loch Nora.

The group successfully TP'd one house, and you'd even personally egged someone's front door after they called the gang delinquents. You were not athletic in the slightest, but you hit your target dead on, and basked in the boy's gleeful war cries.

You were grateful for Eddie's suggestion of sneakers because you'd walked more in those 4 hours than you had during any Black Friday or Christmas Eve double shift in your entire career. You were sure even a day at Disneyland couldn't hold a candle to the Hellfire Club Whistle Stop Walking Candy Tour of Hawkins.

The boys all took to calling you mom pretty early in the night after you stopped Jeff from chomping into a handful of starbursts.

"Your braces," you reminded him, motioning to your teeth. "You're gonna snap a wire; you hate the orthodontist."

He groaned and all of the boys started snickering. Eddie, of course, was quick to shame him.

"Listen to your mother!"

And the nickname just stuck.

Of course Mike--who you noticed tried to emulate Eddie most out of the group of freshman--had a retort.

"If she's mom," he said smugly. "Does that mean you're dad?"

The boys all started making kissy faces and you had to laugh as Eddie got a little flustered.

After watching him flounder for a comeback, you decided to help him out, so you crossed the distance and pressed a quick peck to his cheek before you turned and shook your finger at the boys in a disappointed way.

"Next person to sass your father," you started. "And you're all grounded." They all looked a mixture of confused and worried for a second.

"What does that mean?" Lucas asked nervously.

"It means you start the next session with half of your hit points," Eddie finally recovered, voice growling in a threat. The boys all clammed up and turned to head to the next house.

"Sorry about them," he shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Nah, it's ok," you smiled reassuringly. "They meant well. Still...til death do us part, I guess."

You both froze and you started panicking.

Why had you said that?

Still, Eddie was able to make it all better. He shuffled his feet and cracked a smile, then gestured to your costumes.

"Or uh...undeath. Considering."

Still, you had butterflies in your stomach every time one of the boys called you mom and dad for the rest of the night.

---

By the time 10 rolled around, you were back at the Emerson's house. Gareth's mom greeted you all excitedly with sodas and plates of hot buffalo chicken casserole with crispy tater tots on top, and you all sat in the garage to eat and divvy up your haul.

"So," Eddie slumped on the sofa next to you at some point after dinner was finished. You were tiredly watching Lucas and Dave argue the merits of Three Musketeers versus Milky Way and glad for the distraction. "Did you have fun?"

"Of course."

"Enough to do it again next year?"

"Is this your way of telling me you guys trick or treat every year?" you joked. "Because I kind of picked up on those hints all night."

"More like...I don't know," he sniffed awkwardly. "You still planning to be my friend next year?"

"Stop asking me that," you hit the back of your hand against his chest. "If I got to see you be a big dork with your gaggle of kindergarteners--"

"Hey!" came Will and Mike's whine from a few feet away.

"--and I'm still here, nothing's gonna scare me away Eddie."

He grabbed your hand to stop you from hitting him again, but stayed silent for a moment, eyes darting back and forth between yours as his tongue worried his lip.

You got nervous the longer he hesitated to say something, and once he did, you had the sneaking suspicion it wasn't exactly what he'd really wanted to say in the first place.

You hoped it wasn't what he wanted to say. Hoped it was just something he couldn't say in front of his friends.

"Then you don't mind if we do Alien next year. And before you say anything, I think I would make a great Ripley. I already have the hair for it and I'm pretty sure I have that same underwear."

"Sure Eddie," you agreed a little stiffly. "Sounds perfect."

He smiled, but it didn't quite meet his eyes.

Still, the two of you stayed huddled together on that couch for the rest of the night, surrounded by friends.

Hands held comfortably together.

Next Part: Promotion

[halcified]

teru & socialization

i've posted about this before but something ive been thinking about a LOT is mp100's themes of loneliness (and eventual connections). i think this is an aspect of teru's character (in particular) that gets left out because it's not as explicit but i've been wanting to do a deep dive on it for a while and i finally sat down to do it. just a warning, this post is gonna be LONG.

these two panels are from chapter 16 of the manga (which i'm using for my evidence because i. dont want to scrub through the anime LOL). initial sentiment: teru uses his powers to cheat having friends/a good social life and wouldn't have that if he tried earnestly. this is a fair interpretation of the scene. with what we know, at this point of time (as in within the teru-mob fight) teru would not be able to connect with other people earnestly, due to his mindset. which i think is a fair interpretation, HOWEVER:

(from chapter 17 ^^) the first panel shows teru's expression to be strained and the second is visibly unhappy. this puts the first set of panels into a different context, that maybe underneath all of this, teru doesn't WANT any of this life that he's built. keep in mind that i'm analyzing this with teru's possible autistic tendencies in mind & you dont have to believe he's autistic, im not your dad, but i do find this a pretty meaningful indication of masking if he were

(note: yes, the strain can definitely be read as comp-het, and i would agree but that's not relevant so go read this post on that instead)

even if the rest of these panels show teru content with his life, i think these expressions are pretty vital to how we read his life especially because we know so little of it. think about it, if you were a kid desperate for affection because you couldn't get it anywhere else, especially not in a way that would come off as "mature" or "unaffected", wouldn't you also look for validation in your popularity? even if it aligned you with people who you consider fundamentally different to you? my point here is that teru can't not stand out-- it's in his nature-- and we are shown how he tries to blend in & receive attention in the only way possible to him; which is to say that he molds himself into something that is palatable, likeable, and superior to other people. if he's nothing, like mob, he has spent his entire life covering up for it. if he fails socially, like mob, he has to be good at everything (even if he cheats to do so) so that everyone else can look past it.

(side note for my teru angst enjoyers: this is a panel of his mom. the mom who he hasn't seen in years. doesn't it make sense that, if he hasn't heard his mom say he's proud of him for literal years, that he would overachieve in response? not related to the autism thing i just have the teru bug. also don't be misogynistic in my notes both his parents suck we just get a singular mention of his mom)

so if teru couldn't meaningfully have friends before mob, that could very easily be because of his past mindset, right?

...except, we don't.. really... see him make other friends afterwards.

but, the awakening lab, right?

(ok i lied to you sorry there is one anime screenshot and thats because it stood out to me while i rewatched it earlier this month. sorry.) id like to bring attention to this screenshot during the cultural festival because the awakening lab can definitely be seen as a direct contradiction of this and i'd like to point out a couple things:

1) in this scene the shiratori brothers are in another room 2) them and the other three are friends with ritsu (or at least close enough acquaintances to want to see him).

considering this is one of the only times they appear together for Fun i am more inclined to believe this is an encounter where they went together because they all would've gone separately anyway. this isn't to discount the possible bond that these characters might have, but thats the thing. we... aren't really shown that they're friends and enjoy spending time together outside of this screenshot, where two out of six of the members are not even present. not to mention that teru is still placing himself in a role separate from his peers. despite stripping the superiority away, teru is still the awakening lab's mentor, not friend. teru still views himself as fundamentally different in a context where his psychic powers don't make him that way.

...except with mob. i bring this placement of power up because where he is the awakening lab's mentor, teru declares mob to be his rival, or, in other words, teru is just like him. he is accepting that mob and him are the same. (and if we view mob from an autistic lens... so on and so forth)

as if to hammer in that point even further-- in the summer vacation omake, teru explicitly states that "summer break is just a super long, super boring stretch of alone time." i'm not sure of the timeline here, but guessing from the hair, we're at least post season 1. which gives us explicit confirmation here that teru is spending the break alone despite his relationship to the awakening lab. his connection to mob is a lifeline here because mob is one of the only people who can intuitively understand teru's isolation without judgment

(also, on that point of teru's autistic tendencies: teru does and says a LOT of things that would raise other peoples eyebrows and doesn't seem to notice.

here we get teru actively admitting to his home life, right in front of reigen, WHO COULD CALL CHILD SERVICES ON HIM? this genuinely made me rethink this character entirely. teru's filter is... minimal. he isn't constantly volunteering information and generally minds his own business, but if you ask? Well.

teru is a social person, but to say he is proficient in understanding social situations seems... wrong. teru views his loneliness as boring because, despite being fairly open, does not actually allow himself to think about his own feelings and how they affect him. this loneliness is boring because he doesn't have enough of a reference to realize its not

if we are taking pre-mob teru to be a version of himself who is masking, or at the very least someone who is faking a lot of stuff in a less autistic sense, the fight with mob changes teru to the point where he no longer hides himself. in the same way that mob was able to shake teru's fragile superiority complex i think the change in appearance marks the end of the self teru had built up. from this point on we see him become a lot more... Him. his appearance and his fashion choices are, presumably, completely normal to him and we get no indication that he believes otherwise despite the reactions it gets-- which is... well, i wouldn't be writing this post if i thought it was one of his most neurotypical traits.

in fact, he seems... pretty oblivious to what other people think of him. which is an interesting distinction to make considering the intelligence we Know he possesses (which is not to say that you are unintelligent if you don't pick up on social cues, just that its common for media to depict it that way.) these traits are made pointedly, even if unintentionally, separate, ESPECIALLY when you note the amount of characters who Do ruminate on or stare at teru's appearance.

some examples. i don't even think this is all of it-- case in point.)

[libraford]

"How come you guys get a parade but there's no parade for Military Appreciation Month?"

We actually don't get a parade. The military has three parades during the summer: memorial day, July 4, and Labor Day. I think that its okay if there isn't a parade in June if there's one in May, July, and September. There is also a military presence in the Christmas parade.

Parades are expensive! And they take a lot of planning and logistics! Someone has to clean up all the confetti. The police have to be present to barricade side streets. There's insurance. There's liability. Even just running a float in a parade or marching in a parade can be expensive and time consuming!

Do I think that a parade could be fun? Sure! But I'd end up being on the organizing end of it and that's a lot of work.

Our town has three parades with military themes, streets lined with banners for active duty service members, three memorial parks, and a lot of very showy events in public places.

The queers have a nonprofit organization, sponsorships of local businesses, a food pantry at our local hangout, and a four hour festival in a parking lot.

I'm sorry we didn't acknowledge Military Appreciation Month.

If it makes you feel better, I forgot Lesbian Awareness Week. And I'm a lesbian.

[devildomwriter]

Last Things They Say to MC

Lucifer

“Mm… What’s wrong? Are you feeling nervous? Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. Believe in yourself. And if you ever need a confidence boost, just say the word… I’ll do whatever you want, as many times as it takes. Just like I did now. I know how talented you are. It isn’t easy to earn my respect, but you managed to do it. Remember that.” or “…What’s wrong? Feeling nervous? If only we could stay like this, just like we are right now… …But the ceremony’s starting. Come on, let’s go.” — (80-22)

Mammon

“Yo, MC! Let’s try that again. But this time, land on MY lap!” or “Whoa… ALL RIGHT! Like, yeah…I did! I called for you!” — (80-22)

Leviathan

“What?! A bit too far?! You think I’m taking it A BIT TOO FAR?! The whole world can jump off a cliff! Everyone except me and the great Christopher Peugeot!” or “I’ll try not to, but I can’t make any promises!” or “I knew you’d understand! You’re a true friend, MC! You’re the only one I can share this moment with! The only one who knows what it means!” — (80-16 Hard)

Satan

“That was a really nice gift shop, they had all sorts of cat-themed stuff. We should go there again the next time we get a chance, MC.” — (80-19)

Asmodeus

“Oh MC! I’ve missed you sooo sooo SOOO much!” — (80-22)

Beelzebub

“I’m putting this in the box. It’s from the RAD Sports Festival. This is the slip of paper listing what I was supposed to find during the Bloody Scavenger Hunt. I was so hungry that I accidentally ate the original slip of paper, remember? It was just as you happened to be passing by… So you wrote my instructions down for me again on a new piece of paper. And on top of that, you have me some actual food to snack on.” — (80-19)

Belphegor

“Wait though, what are you doing here? I mean, I’m happy to see you, but…” — (80-22)

Solomon

“…Good, yes. Try to concentrate your magic energy in your forehead and fingertips… Nicely done! That was great! It’s been several weeks now since we left the Devildom, but your magic is still as strong as ever. All right, why don’t we go ahead and wrap up your training here for today? You’re about to head off right now, aren’t you? Tell everyone I said hi. Well, see you later, MC!” — (80-22)

Thirteen

“…Hmph, that’s no fun at all. Without you and that sham of a magician around to keep me on my toes, it’ll be so dull here.” — (80-17)

Simeon

“Anyway, I feel like maybe I’ve made a bit of progress on my personal journey now?” — (80-16 Hard)

Luke

“Right! Thanks, MC!” or “The truth is, I’d like to snap my fingers and become a truly great angel right now. But they say ‘slow and steady wins the race,’ after all! I’ll do my best! …But I’ll try not to be too impatient about it!” — (80-14)

Raphael

“…Have you forgotten that I’m standing right here? If you’re about to have a “moment”…don’t.” — (80-19)

Michael

“Goodbye. Until we meet again, MC…” — (44-18)

Little D. No. 2

“Here you are. Your assignment!” — (65-17)

Mephistopheles

“Anyway, changing the subject…MC, you’re here on a short-term exchange, aren’t you? Just like the second time you came here. It’s the same with Solomon. Your terms should be ending soon, right?” — (80-17)

Barbatos

“It’s a good thing Levi and Beel were there to break your fall, MC…” — (80-22)

Diavolo

“Now then, MC, is there anything you would like to say?” — (80-22)

[kwanisms]

The Library of Illusion — The Woodland Guard

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➮ elven guard!Yeosang × fem!Reader wc: 6.9k summary: Of all the places the fantasy section could have taken her, Y/N ends up deep in a dense woodland. While traversing through the trees, she sets off a silent alarm and alerts the Woodland Guard who take her back to their tree house village where she learns they are in the midst of a week-long celebration. Though she's not allowed to join in the festivities, she finds her own fun when an elven guard named Yeosang takes over guarding her cell. genres/themes/au: angst, slight fluff, smut; fantasy, high fantasy; non idol au, elven au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut!

permanent taglist: @yoonguurt @wonderfulshinee @candidupped @dejavernon @violagoth @tigermoonbiss @katsukis1wife @luvsooby @thesolarplanetarysystem @salty-for-suga @devilsmatches @dmnspiit @simeonswhore @yangracha @seonghwalover @atinypurr @aikyubi @labyrinthonmymind @bintificreads @toxic-babexe

ateez taglist: @2hodefender @cixrosie @pyeonghongrie-main @flowerboykun @sanjoongie @anyamaris @stardragongalaxy @kpop-stories-21 @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @mlysalt @cinnamoon-belle @briannabk22 @is4b3ll3s @hyukssunflower @vampiirose @0325tiny @ateezstanforever @justiny @jeongwangjessmina @lacie220900 @aaaaajonghooooo @dementedaly

special tags: @thelargefrye @hwasangelbaby join my taglists! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED.

a/n: sorry for this being late, I took an impromptu trip out of town and wasn't really able to focus on writing but I'm back hoke and ready to write again! I really like how this turned out. Initially, I hadn't planned on putting Y/N in a cell. She was originally going to join thr party but I like this direction better. Thank you so much for reading and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only. Header and banners made by me. Content and reblog banners made by my with a template made by @cafekitsune. I do not allow reposts, translations, or continuations of my works. All my writings are ©️ kwanisms.

smut warnings: fingering (f receiving), edging (f receiving), rough sex, unprotected sex (wrap it), use of pet names (baby, angel, sweetheart, princess, etc), unrealistic sex (multiple rounds, multiple f orgasms), dirty talk, dacryphilia, overstimulation, cumplay (Yeosang cums on her pussy & pushes some of it inside), and I believe that's all of them! Let me know if I missed anything.

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

“You have to hurry.”

You pushed yourself up off the desk. “What are you talking about?” You asked softly, watching the way Seonghwa hesitated before turning to look at you.

“There isn’t much time left,” Seonghwa said again. “Not much time left for what?” you asked. “I didn’t think you’d take this long to get through the guardians,” Seonghwa started to explain. “You only have a small window to escape this place,” he added.

“A small window? What does that mean?” you asked again.

Seonghwa sighed, shaking his head. “From the moment you step foot into the Library, you’ve had exactly three days to get out,” Seonghwa continued, holding a hand up when he noticed you opening your mouth. “It’s been just over a day and a half since you entered this place,” he added.

‘A day and a half?’ you asked yourself. ‘How could it have been only a day and a half?’

“How?” you whispered. “How has it been only a day and a half?”

Seonghwa must have been waiting for this question.

“Time moves slowly once you enter the sections,” he explained. “Time in there progresses as normal but out here, it slows down. Almost to a crawl.”

You tried to wrap your brain around what he was saying.

“Like… a time vortex?”

Seonghwa nodded. “Exactly,” he replied. “Like a time vortex. You enter a section and time out here almost freezes until you return,” he added.

You looked around as you absorbed his words before an idea popped into your head.

“What about you?”

Seonghwa, who had turned away, turned back to look at you. “What about me?”

You gestured to him. “When time slows down here,” you started. “Does that mean you slow down too?”

A small smirk spread across Seonghwa’s face. ‘Uh-oh.’

“No,” he answered plainly. “I’m not a mortal. I’m not bound to your mortal time constraints. I can move about as freely as if time hadn't slowed down.”

You nodded quickly. “Right,” you answered. “I keep forgetting you aren’t human.”

The smirk on Seonghwa’s face spread. “If you keep forgetting, you’ll come to regret it.”

You looked up quickly to meet his gaze, his eyes flashing the same red color as they had before. There was something inherently dangerous about him but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

“We’re wasting time,” Seonghwa said suddenly, turning away from you. “You have two doors left to choose from,” he explained. “Fantasy and adventure,” he continued before turning to look at you over his shoulder.

“Which do you want to visit first?”

Pondering on it for a brief moment, you settled on visiting the fantasy section first, looking up at the glowing purple sign above the door as Seonghwa moved to unlock it. 

Turning the knob, Seonghwa opened the door for you. “Fantasy isn’t all fairytales and happy endings,” he started to say as you walked past him, stopping when he reached out to grab your arm.

You looked up to meet his gaze once more, the red gone and replaced with the usual blackness of his eyes you’d grown accustomed to.

“Fantasy is sometimes just as dark, if not more, dark than horror.”

His words were meant to be a warning but you couldn’t help smiling at him.

“I’ve faced aliens, spider monsters, bloodthirsty advisors, and criminals,” you explained. “I think I can handle what’s in here.”

Seonghwa hesitantly let go of your arm. “Just take care and tread with caution.”

You nodded and continued into the hall, not bothering to turn back as you heard the soft click of the door shutting behind you.

The dark and dusty aisle was lined with the usual wooden shelves full of books and papers as you walked, pulling your flashlight out to turn it on. The light barely illuminated the path before you but as you walked, you noticed the moment the wood started to disappear into damp soil.

‘Another cave?’

Continuing on, you noticed how the shape of the hall had become circular, the walls now packed soil as you kept walking, kicking small rocks and bits of dirt.

You noticed that the floor started sloping upwards and soon, you could see light filtering in where the tunnel seemed to turn upwards, almost like a—

“Is this a burrow?” you asked no one in particular. It seemed to fit the criteria and you suddenly were afraid of what kind of animal lived in this burrow.

Upon reaching the end of the tunnel, you glanced up and noticed the light peeking in from what you could only assume was the opening of the tunnel. You started to climb, grabbing onto roots sticking out of the dirt.

Climbing and clawing your way up the side of the tunnel, you got closer and closer to the opening until you finally pulled yourself out of the opening, blinking in the bright light of the sun filtering through the tops of the trees.

As your eyes adjusted to the light, you looked around, noticing that you were in some sort of forest.

Unlike the dense jungle of the Science Fiction section, this was an ancient forest with twisted trees, thick brush that sprung up out of the leaf littered ground. The trees were old with many roots that dug into the ground and disappeared.

Getting up, you glanced back and saw you had crawled out of a gap between the roots at the base of a massive tree with a gnarled and bent trunk. The tree extended up into the sky above you, the branches spreading out to cover the area with a massive canopy of leaves.

Sunlight filtered through the canopy as a breeze caused the leaves to sway and dance. Tearing your gaze away from the treetops, you peered around the area once more, wondering which way you should go.

Deciding it would be best to start forward, you did just that, scrambling over roots, broken branches, and half buried boulders as you looked for any sign of life or the key.

Continuing on your way, you came across a deep cut in the forest floor where a river raged a good 20 feet below. Glancing back and forth, you noticed a massive fallen log serving as a natural bridge and made your way over to it. The center of the log had been hollowed out, creating almost a covered bridge.

Each step took you further and further from the rabbit hole you’d emerged from and deeper into the thick forest.

As you walked, you could hear the sound of nature all around you. Bird song and the sound of bugs. Even the deep croak of frogs could be heard as you stumbled along. As you looked around instead of ahead, the toe of your boot caught on a stone and you tripped, stumbling into a tree trunk which you used to steady yourself and find your footing again.

“Way to go, grace,” you mumbled to yourself. “Walk much?”

Looking down, you noticed your clothes were covered in dirt, no doubt from the climb up the tunnel and you quickly brushed yourself off.

Once you were satisfied you’d knocked most of the dirt loose, you continued down an unmarked path, a strong breeze blowing overhead, the branches swaying and creaking above you as you stopped to look up.

The air seemed to change and even some of the sounds of the forest ceased. ‘Oh god,’ you said to yourself. ‘Not again.’

As you came to a halt, you listened closely for the sound of anything you hadn’t heard before. Hearing nothing, you decided to continue on but stopped once again when you heard a loud snap followed by a light thundering sound.

Looking up, you jumped back just in time as a dark shape dropped from a tree above you, landing on the ground before you and standing straight up. Your eyes widened as you looked at the figure, which was joined by two more, surrounding you on three sides, trapping you.

Your heart hammered as you looked around at them, taking in their features. Stoic expressions, unparalleled beauty and… wait, are those pointed ears?

‘Are they… elves?’

Your question was answered when one of the figures turned his head to speak to the person next to him, showcasing his pointed ears. ‘Yep. That’s an elf alright.’

You watched as they spoke amongst themselves in a language you couldn’t pick up. It was unlike anything you’d heard but at the same time, it sounded very familiar. ‘Is that elvish?’

You watched in awe as they spoke with one another before one of the elves turned to look at you. The elves before you were all beautiful of course, but there was something about this elf in particular that seemed to take your breath away.

He was more beautiful than the others. He had silky black hair that fell in soft waves, barely reaching his shoulders. His eyes were dark brown and despite the piercing stare he gave you, his eyes were soft.

“Who are you?” A different elf, one with blond locks, asked suddenly. You were surprised as you shifted your attention to look at him. “I’m just passing through,” you answered. “I got lost in this forest.”

One of the elves, a brunet with long straight hair, exchanged glances with the blond but the one with black hair kept his eyes on you. “We should just get rid of her,” the blond said softly but still loud enough for you to hear.

‘Get rid of me?’

The brunet shook his head. “Can we even do that without orders?” The blond shrugged his shoulders. “Who cares? She’s just a dumb mortal.”

The raven haired elf finally spoke up and you could have sworn you died and went to heaven. He sounded like an angel.

“No,” he replied softly. “We must take her back.”

The blond groaned, clearly annoyed. “You’re such a killjoy, Yeosang.”

You watched as the whispered amongst themselves before finally turning to look at you. “Can you walk?” the one named Yeosang asked. You nodded silently. “Oh great, she’s mute,” the blond said, rolling his eyes. You furrowed your brow.

“I am not mute,” you snapped back, surprising both the blond and brunet elves.

Yeosang smiled. “That will teach you to rush to conclusions Paeral,” he said, a hint of amusement to his voice. The blond looked annoyed but said nothing. “Since you insist we must take her back, we better get going.”

Yeosang nodded as the other two elves started walking ahead. Yeosang escorted you as more elves brought up the rear. “What is your name?” Yeosang asked as you were led to a stone pathway.

“Y/N,” you replied, scrambling over a massive root and following the path behind the brunet elf. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N,” Yeosang said as he followed closely behind you. “I am Yeosang.”

The walk to the elves home didn’t take long and you were surprised by how close to their kingdom you had been before. Yeosang stayed behind you the entire time, more than once reaching out to steady you as you lost your footing on the uneven path.

“You are not the most graceful,” he noted with a chuckle as he helped you stand once more after you tripped over a stone path piece. You shook your head. “Normally I’m not this clumsy,” you replied. “I swear.”

The walk led you to a large wall made of trees and thick shrubs, standing at least 10 feet tall. A gateway in the trees opened up and you were escorted inside, your head turning every which way to try and see everything you could.

The gates were closed behind and you were suddenly left feeling nervous about your surroundings. You’d been brought to a man of power before though that had been a lord and not a king.

The blond and brunet elves led the way to the base of a thick tree where a spiral staircase began, winding around the trunk of the tree and climbing up. You followed them up, Yeosang bringing up the rear as you climbed higher and higher into the treetops.

The stairs finally stopped, a wooden landing that connected to a wooden rope bridge and led to another walkway. You looked around as you walked, noticing how there was an entire community of wooden walkways and what looked to be treehouses in the canopy.

You continued on, walking from walkway to walkway until you were being led to the largest treehouse, looking up at it with a mixture of apprehension and fear. Inside, you barely had time to adjust to the low lighting and register the interior before you were being led to a pair of elves who sat in ornately carved wooden chairs which you correctly assumed were thrones.

The King and Queen watched you with mild curiosity as the elves leading you knelt down, showing their respect. Feeling like you were sticking out, you bowed quickly, not entirely sure how you were supposed to act.

The bow must have been well received because the king began asking you all sorts of questions, ranging from asking your name and where you came from to how you found yourself in the forest.

You tried to explain everything to the best of your ability without sounding completely insane, opting to leave out the Library of Illusion altogether. Whether or not the King and Queen bought your story was another thing entirely.

“It’s an incredible story to be certain,” the King said, turning his head to look at his Queen who said nothing, merely nodding her head. “Incredible indeed,” she added. “And I don’t believe she is a spy.”

You relaxed slightly, glad they didn’t see you as a spy or a threat. “Still, to be safe, she will be imprisoned for the time being.”

‘Well shit.’

True to their word, the King and Queen had you imprisoned in one of the many treehouse cells. The brunet elf, who you learned was named Falenas, was assigned to keep watch over your cell.

After being led from the King and Queen’s treehouse, you noticed that far below you in the lower treehouses, as well as on the forest floor, a party seemed to be taking place. It took some convincing but finally, you got it out of Falenas.

You sat on the edge of the bed, head in your hands when you heard a voice and looked up.

Through the bars of your cell, which was really just a single room treehouse far from the others, you could see Yeosang speaking to Falenas. After speaking for a small moment, the brunet looked back at you through the bars before turning back to Yeosang and nodded.

You watched as he took off and disappeared while Yeosang take his place.

‘What is happening?’

You got up slowly and walked over to the door. Taking the wooden bars in your hands you leaned against the door and peered out to see Yeosang now sitting in the seat previously occupied by Falenas.

You let out a heavy sigh, drawing his attention. “What are you doing here?” you asked softly, looking at him. “I let him go join the feast,” Yeosang answered softly, turning back to what he was working on when you interrupted him.

“Don’t you want to join the festivities?”

You heard him scoff. “No,” he answered. “I don’t really care for parties.”

You watched him as he stood still, looking away from your door. “Parties aren’t that bad,” you murmured. Yeosang glanced back at you. “I find them dull,” he explained. “An excuse to get drunk and make a fool of oneself.”

You snorted, shaking your head.

Yeosang turned to look back at you. “What’s so funny?”

You looked up, meeting his gaze. “Have you ever been to a party?”

He nodded, looking mildly confused. “You must just be boring,” you said with a shrug. Yeosang scowled. “I am not boring,” he answered. You raised a brow at him. “Not boring, huh?” you asked, leaning against the door, pressing your chest against the bars.

You noticed the way Yeosang’s eyes darted down to look at your chest before back up to your eyes. Had you blinked, you would have missed it.

But you didn’t. ‘Interesting.’

“Can you prove it?”

Your question must have caught him off guard because he blinked at you expressionlessly. “Prove what?” he asked. You rolled your eyes. “Prove you aren’t boring,” you replied. “Pay attention, Yeosang,” you added playfully.

His cheeks turned a soft pink and he turned to look away again. “I have no reason to prove anything to you.”

You sighed heavily. “See? Booorrring~,” you retorted, pretending to yawn. Yeosang looked back at you. “How am I supposed to prove I’m not boring?” he asked, turning to face you, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the outside of your cell.

“Do something unexpected,” you answered. “Something you’d never normally do.” Yeosang watched you, eyes narrowing as he contemplated his options.

He was right, he really had no reason to prove anything to you. He didn’t know you and you didn’t know him. He could just ignore you until the end of time.

Then why did he feel so compelled to prove you wrong? Why did he feel the need to show you he wasn’t boring in the slightest. ‘I can have fun if I want,’ he thought to himself. Eyeing you, Yeosang sighed, pushing himself up from the wall of the cell and pulled the keys from his pocket.

“Get back,” he ordered, taking enjoyment in the shocked look on your face at the sudden gruffness of his voice. “Yes, sir,” you said softly, stepping back a few paces and watching as he unlocked the door and pushed it open.

“Uh, I don’t think you’re supposed to be in here,” you said, fighting the urge to smirk as Yeosang looked at you. “They won’t care,” he answered, shutting the door and hanging the keys by the door. “Just don’t make a dash for the door. I’m putting a lot of trust in you right now.”

Sitting down, you leaned back against the mattress as he walked over. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” you whispered as the raven-haired elf slowly climbed onto the bed, hovering over you. “I sense you’re being sarcastic,” he said softly. You shook your head.

“No,” you replied. “I’m really not.” Not giving him a chance to reply, you reached up, grabbing the back of his neck and pulled him down, pressing your lips against his. Almost as soon as his lips met yours, his hands were on your body, pulling at your clothes gently.

Your back hit the mattress as he kneeled between your thighs.

“What is this?” he asked, inspecting your shorts. You propped yourself up on your elbows. He was running his thumb over the metal of your zipper. “It’s a zipper,” you explained, causing him to look up at you. “A what?”

“A zipper,” you repeated. “We call it that ‘cause it makes a sound like ‘zip’ when you tug the little pull up or down,” you explained, showing him the little metal zipper pull.

Yeosang leaned over you, forcing you back as his hands made quick work of your shorts, undoing the button and zipper. “For never having seen a zipper before,” you said breathlessly as his lips moved down the side of your neck. “You sure seem to know how they work.”

Yeosang snorted but continued to kiss and nip at the skin of your throat.

His hands pushed your shorts down, groaning when he saw you weren’t wearing anything underneath. “Is it customary for your people to not wear undergarments?” he asked, one hand moving up the inside of your thigh.

“I just forgot them,” you breathed. “Normally I wear them though.”

Yeosang smiled as he moved back to kiss you, lips hovering inches from yours.

“Lucky me,” he murmured before taking you in a messy, rough kiss.

You let out a whimper as you felt his fingers find your clit with expert precision, drawing slow but hard circles against the nub. “Spread your legs,” he mumbled against your lips.

You did as he instructed, spreading your thighs further apart. “And keep them there,” he added in a deep, gruff voice, fingers moving down to tease your entrance. Your hips chased his fingers as he pulled them away.

“Patience,” he muttered when you whined in protest. His fingers were back on your clit, dragging out slow, torturous motions as he watched your face, brow furrowing and your bottom lip being pulled between your teeth.

“There’s no one around us,” he whispered, tips of his fingers dancing back down to your entrance, spreading your wetness. “Let me hear you,” he added.

You let out a long sigh as his fingers sank into your aching core, exploring your velvety walls and curling against the soft gummy spot that had your back arching with each pull.

“That’s it,” he murmured when you let out a moan. “Let me hear how good I’m making you feel.”

Another curl of his fingers had you moaning wantonly, desperate for him to move faster. The slow curling and rubbing was driving you insane. “Faster,” you begged, one hand moving down to grab his hand, your fingers encasing his wrist. “Please move faster.”

Yeosang chuckled in your ear. “Faster? You’re so impatient,” he mumbled, lips brushing against the lobe of your ear. “You want me to draw this out or stop?”

Your eyes shot open. “No, don’t stop!” you protested. Yeosang smirked at your reaction. “Then don’t rush me, Y/N.”

He continued to tease you with torturously slow drags inside your walls, curling his fingers slowly just to watch the way your lips parted as you begged him for more. “The more I tease you,” he said in a husky voice. “The wetter you get.”

“Yeosang, please,” you whimpered, unshed tears sparkling in your eyes.

“It hurts.”

His fingers stilled inside you. “It hurts?” he asked. “I’ve hurt you?”

You shook your head. “No,” you whimpered. “I just need to cum. The pressure,” you explained. “S’too much.”

Without warning, Yeosang’s fingers moved inside you, curling against that same gummy spot with a renewed vigor. The overwhelming intensity of the change in pace caused the previously unshed tears to spill, rolling down your temples.

“Fuck!” you gasped, grabbing his wrist as his fingers worked your cunt open with ferocity. “Since you’re so impatient,” he chuckled, stopping to scissor his fingers inside your wet walls. “I’ll just have to skip oral. When you whine about not getting any, remember that you asked for this.”

You didn’t care at this point. You just wanted his cock inside you. You wanted the tension to snap and for release. You’d been begging for it and he was finally going to give in to your pleas.

Yeosang was quick to rid you of the rest of your clothes, undoing the buttons of your blouse and pushing it off you and throwing it to the ground. “Take this off,” he ordered, tugging on the strap of your bra.

You were quick to do so as he pulled on the fastenings of his own clothes, shrugging off the jacket he wore and causing you to freeze. Whatever you had expected under his clothes was certainly not this.

The guy looked like he was very slender and maybe slightly toned under his clothes but what sat before you now was an extremely toned body, throwing your completely off guard as Yeosang's hands moved to undo the ties of his pants.

He looked up, noticing your frozen posture and glanced down before looking back up. “What?” he asked. “Something wrong?”

You shook your head and quickly rid yourself of your bra as he finally undid the last fastening of his pants and let them drop to the floor. Your eyes wandered of their own accord, taking in his physique. He looked incredible before the clothes came off but afterwards, you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching out, your fingers brushing against his toned stomach.

“You…” you trailed off, missing the amused smile on his face. “You’re like… jacked, holy shit,” you whispered. Yeosang tilted his head curiously. “What’s jacked?” You glanced up from your position to meet his gaze.

“It’s like saying someone is ripped,” you explained. You watched as his head tilted in the opposite direction, almost like a puppy which would have been humorous had you not been aching to have his cock inside you.

“Muscular,” you finally answered, eyes glancing down to his cock. You had to resist the urge to groan from the sight alone. It wasn’t the largest you’d taken but it was still an impressive size and girth. Your hand moved from his stomach, fingers wrapping around the shaft carefully.

Yeosang’s eyes fluttered shut, lips parting in a soft gasp as you started working your hand along his length. You pulled your hand back before spitting into it and resuming the same stroking motions, watching his face.

“What’s wrong?” you murmured, a smirk forming on your face. “You were so eager to have your cock inside me before,” you continued, slowing your hand and watching the way his chest heaved with each labored breath.

“What happened?”

Something snapped inside Yeosang. One second he was completely at your mercy the next he had you on your back, thighs spread as he kneeled between them, taking his cock in his hand and guiding the tip to your waiting core.

“I’ll make you regret those words,” he said in a low voice, looking up from where your bodies were about to meet to lock you in a heated gaze. “We’ll see,” you retorted, a smirk still on your face.

Yeosang held your gaze as he slowly sank his cock into your wet cunt. You broke first, eyes rolling back as he sank his entire length into you, your walls fluttering as they hugged him in.

“Holy shit,” you gasped, feeling his cock deep inside.

“You should probably hold on,” Yeosang said, his voice slightly strained. You opened your eyes to look up at him. “Why?” His expression morphed into a smirk.

“Once I start,” he began, pulling back to give you a shallow thrust. The feeling of his cock dragging against your walls slowly had your toes curling. “I won’t stop until we’ve both cum.”

Without another word or warning, Yeosang pushed your thighs against your stomach, rolling his hips and setting a heavy, relentless pace. Each thrust had his cock brushing against your sweet spot, the same spot he’d mercilessly teased earlier while fingering you.

It was clear he knew what he was doing, angling his thrusts for that spot specifically. “Holy shit, Yeosang!” you moaned, back arching as your first orgasm approached. The tension that had been building up to this moment finally came crashing down as you came with a loud moan, walls fluttering around the elf’s cock. He simply smirked down at you as he fucked you through your high.

You finally opened your eyes, breath shuddering as you made eye contact.

“I told you to hold on, Y/N,” he said. “You’re in for a long night.”

He somehow managed to pull more orgasms out of you, leaving you breathless and weak as he rolled you onto your back. “I’m so tired,” you whimpered. Yeosang leaned over your back, pressing soft kisses to your cheek. “Do you want to stop, love?”

You shook your head. “You haven’t cum yet,” you answered. Yeosang chuckled lightly, pressing a couple more kisses to your cheek before moving to kneel between your spread thighs.

“Lift your hips for me, angel,” he said softly. You shakily pushed yourself up enough for Yeosang to shove something soft under your stomach and prop your ass up. “This should be more comfortable,” he murmured as he scooted closer.

“You don’t have to do anything,” he added as he ran his hands over your ass and up to grab your hips. “Okay,” you breathed as you felt the head of his cock push into you, making you groan. “Just lie still for me, princess,” he murmured, taking your hips in his hands.

He resumed the same relentless and unforgiving pace from before, making you wonder where his stamina and self control came from. From behind, his cock dove even deeper than before. Your fingers curled into the sheets, burying your face in the linens as Yeosang pounded into you from behind.

Your moans and whimpers were muffled, allowing you to hear Yeosang’s groans and grunts. “Feels so good,” you heard him groan. “I could fuck you all night.”

You cried out as he thrusted a little harder. “Let me hear you, sweetheart,” he chuckled. “There’s no one around us.” You raised your head slightly, moans slipping out with each thrust, the sound of skin hitting skin filling the hut.

Your walls clenched around him as you came again with a keen, toes curling and fingers digging into the sheets. He didn’t stop, continuing to fuck you through it. “Y-Yeosang,” you sobbed, tears starting to spill from your eyes.

“Does it feel good?” Yeosang asked, voice breathless as he slowed his thrusts to rolls. You nodded, whimpering with each roll. “S-so good!” you moaned. “You gonna cum for me again?” Yeosang asked as you tried to shy away from his strokes, overstimulation taking a hold.

“I c-can’t Y-Yeosang,” you whined. “S’too much.”

Yeosang let out a little huff. “Do you want to stop?”

You shook your head again. “Don’t stop!”

Taking your confirmation, Yeosang resumed thrusting hard and fast, making you gasp and cry out. Your moans turned into screams of pleasure, tears still falling down your face. “Fuck, shit, oh god,” you cursed as another orgasm crashed over you, your thighs shaking as your walls squeezed and hugged Yeosang’s cock.

“That’s it,” you heard him grunt. “Keep doing that, baby.”

If you had been counting, you would have realized you reached a threshold of orgasms. Yeosang had given you sixteen orgasms, which was more than the previous guardians combined.

It wasn’t until you were crying, tears streaming down your face and screaming that he delivered your final orgasm before finally giving in to his own pleasure and chasing his high, cumming on your swollen pussy.

You whimpered as he used two fingers to push some of his cum inside your walls ‘for safe keeping’ he jokingly said. You tried to move but found your legs wouldn’t respond. Yeosang noticed and immediately reached around to lift your hips and pull the cushion out from under you, tossing it aside and lowering you to the bed.

You whined, wanting to roll onto your back but found you had no strength.

Yeosang heard your whines and chuckled softly. “Here,” he whispered. “Let me help.”

He rolled you carefully onto your back. “You need to sleep,” he whispered, leaning over to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “I can’t sleep,” you murmured. “Will you stay with me until I fall asleep?” Yeosang contemplated for a moment before giving in.

“I will stay.”

You passed out not long after and woke up to find you weren’t the only one asleep. Sometime after you passed out, Yeosang had cleaned you up and put your clothes back on and had also managed to dress himself.

You looked around, eyes landing on his ring of keys hanging by the door. ‘Perfect,’ you thought to yourself as you carefully got up, glancing back to make sure Yeosang was still asleep. He was fast asleep, looking so peaceful and serene that you almost felt bad for leaving.

Almost.

Tiptoeing over, you took the keys off the wall as quietly as you could. Your eyes caught a glimpse of something that stood out on the ring and you smiled, realizing that Yeosang was indeed the Guardian as he carried the special key with an insignia for the fantasy section.

You removed the key and used the cell key to let yourself out. Closing the door, you reached in between the bars to hang it back up, glancing back to make sure the coast was clear.

Before you could withdraw your hand, a set of fingers closed around your wrist, making you jump and turn back to the door. Yeosang had a hold of your wrist, glaring at you. “What are you doing?” he hissed as you tried to pull free.

“I have to get back to my world,” you whispered. “I came for this,” you added, holding up the key. Yeosang’s eyes narrowed upon looking at the key in your hands. “That’s why you seduced me?” You looked up at him.

“I did not seduce you,” you replied. “You flirted with me and came into my cell. Just because I wanted it doesn’t mean I seduced you,” you added.

“If anything, you seduced me.”

Yeosang opened his mouth to retort but froze, realization dawning on his face.

“You’re right,” he finally said. He slowly let go of your wrist. “If you’re going to get out of here,” he added. “I’ll take you.” You nodded, watching as he pulled the keys down and let himself out.

“Where do you need to go?”

You wracked your brain before remembering the tunnel. “Do you know the giant tree with the burrow in the base?”

Yeosang nodded. “We call that Wyrm Burrow,” he explained. “That’s where you need to go?” You nodded. “That’s where I came from,” you answered.

The look on Yeosang’s face was a mixture of confusion and curiosity. “If I had more time, I’d explain,” you said, taking his hand. “But I really don’t have the time. If I don’t get back to my own world, I may never get home.”

Yeosang nodded, taking a firm hold on your hand and dragged you away from the hut, taking a different path than the one you were led in. “There’s a back way out of the village,” he explained as you peered over the railing to the forest floor where the celebration you’d heard earlier was raging on.

Yeosang led you to a set of stairs that spiraled down a tree, keeping a firm hold on your hand as you reached the base of the steps. You watched as he looked around before hurrying to hide behind a tree, dragging you with him.

You made your way from tree to tree until you reached the back wall separating the village from the forest around it. Yeosang pulled back a hidden door, pushing you towards it.

“Follow this path. When you reach the fork, go right. Then when you see the deer statue, turn left off the path and walk straight back. You’ll find the Burrow,” he whispered. “I cannot come with you. I have to cover for you.”

You took his hand as he looked away before looking back to meet your gaze.

“Thank you,” you whispered. “You have no idea what this means to me.”

Yeosang grabbed the back of your neck, pulling you into a passionate kiss.

“If I had my way, I’d never let you leave,” he said after pulling back, handing you a small light. “Now go!”

He gave you a little shove before the hidden door fell into place, leaving you standing in the dark forest.

Despite the feeling in your stomach, you forced yourself to follow his directions, taking the path and keeping to the walkway until you finally reached the fork in the path like he said. Taking the right path, you continued, keeping your eye out for the statue he mentioned.

It took several minutes but you finally spotted it and turned to the left. The wood was dark, a light mist settling over the ground. ‘No turning back now.’

You started into the thicket, climbing over fallen trees and thick roots that twisted like snakes and disappeared into the dirt.

Leaves and twigs crunched under your feet as you walked, following the straight path you’d set on until the big tree finally came into view. “Finally,” you wheezed as you sped up, clambering over the logs and stones until you reached the base of the thick, gnarled trunk.

The hole at the base was dark and uninviting as you peered in, using the light to look around. As carefully as you could, you lowered yourself into it and slid to the bottom of the tunnel with a mild scream.

Once at the bottom, you got up, dusting yourself off and started the long trek back to the door. As you walked, you could hear a ringing in the distance and turned around to look behind you. As far as you could see, the tunnel was empty but the light only allowed you to look back so far.

You continued on, pressing forward and ignoring the piercing ringing in your ears.

‘Probably just the silence,’ you figured.

At least until you heard the rumbling shift and the ground beneath your feet shook. You tried to keep your balance as a mini quake shook the tunnel, dirt falling from the ceiling. “Okay,” you murmured as the quake subsided and you steadied yourself.

“Time to go!”

You hurried as fast as you could, not wanting to run and risk a cave in. As you walked, the soft thump of your feet on the dirt turned into a thud as you stepped into the wooden floor and you breathed a sigh of relief.

It only took a couple more minutes to reach the door and before you could open it, it opened before you. Seonghwa pulled you through the door, dragging you out of the tunnel and pushing you aside before slamming the door.

When he dragged you into the room, you’d lost your balance and fallen to your knees, the key falling from your hand and clattering across the stone floor.

“What is your problem!?” you shouted as you looked up at him. Seonghwa turned to look down at you, mildly surprised you were shouting at him.

“What’s my problem?” he asked. “Did you not see that thing following you?”

He held up a hand to silence you before you could speak. “No, don’t answer that,” he said suddenly. “Obviously you didn’t see it,” he continued, stepping over you and kneeling down to pick up the key. “If you had, I wouldn’t have needed to rescue you.”

You glanced over your shoulder at the door, the illuminated sign now off. You looked back to Seonghwa as he inspected the key before turning to look at you. He stood up straight and walked over, stopping just before you.

“Here,” he said softly, offering his hand. You looked up at him before taking it. He pulled you to your feet easily. “Are you alright?”

You nodded silently. “Good,” Seonghwa said, turning away and climbing the steps up to the desk where he placed the key next to the others, leaving one empty space.

You turned your head to look at the last Guardian door before you could finally access the restricted section and be free from the Library.

“I think I don’t need to ask where you want to go next,” Seonghwa said as he watched you walk over to the door.

You turned back as he walked over, pulling out the keys and unlocking the door.

“The final Guardian,” he said, hesitating. “Are you sure about this?”

You nodded, looking up to meet his gaze.

“Just open the door.”

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

What ever you do.. don’t think about how much fun AFS! Reader and Din would have taking Grogu trick or treating.

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Warnings: fluffy, tooth rotting fluff, literally just love and softness. when given the choice of trick or treating, i chose treat.

Word Count: 1.3k

AFS universe, but not timeline congruent

[a/n: i know it's not much. it's short and simple and kind of jumps all over the place, but this was such a cute ask to imagine (plus i feel like an idiot for not thinking of doing this myself sorry work has been a nightmare), but happy halloween, y'all!]

HALLOWEEN SPECIAL:

A CLAN OF FROGS

The tulle framing your hips caught on the kitchen drawer once more and you huffed in annoyance before carefully untangling the material. The moss green dress you wore was hardly a costume on it’s own, but the headband on top of your head with two large frog eyes seemed to make it more fitting for halloween. 

“Hop, hop, hop.” You turned at the sound of Grogu’s voice as he entered your view. Just as he announced, the little boy was hopping down the hall toward the kitchen. He wore a light green, hoodie style onesie. Darker spots lined his arms and legs with a yellow belly where it zipped up. The hood was pulled over his head, two frog eyes sewn to the top to stand, and you had cut holes in the side so his ears could poke through comfortably. A tuft of his white hair stuck out from under the hood, curling up around the edge messily. “Hop, hop, hop.” Grogu bounded over until he stood in front of your foot. He held his light blue, stuffed frog to his chest and beamed up at you in excitement. “Ma! We’re frogs!”

“We are.” You chuckled. “C’mere, cutie.”

Grogu jumped up, full of trust and faith, and you caught him with a laugh. He continued to bounce in your arms. The boy hadn’t stopped moving since you picked him up from school earlier with the promise of trick or treating once his father got home. 

“Are you excited, baby?” You hummed.

“Candy!” Grogu replied.

Nevarro was celebrating Halloween with a festival. All of the market had been decorated for the season. Stalls and booths were now passing out candy and baked goods for any and all trick-or-treaters. On your way home, you had seen them setting up, but you were excited to see the final result.

The sound of the door opening, Din’s voice greeting you both, and Grogu wiggled out of your grip to sprint toward the door, “Buir! Buir! I’m frog!”

“I can see that, ad’ika.” Din’s chuckle rolled through the air and you came around the kitchen counter to greet him. His visor landed on you and though the helmet covered it, you could feel his smile. As if the beskar couldn’t stop that warmth from radiating out. Din had scooped up Grogu, who was using his father’s shoulders as a jungle gym, and drifted closer. “I like this look on you, ner karta. You make a very cute frog.”

You smirked and reached back for the counter where the frog hat rested, “Guess what, honey.” You held up the frog themed bucket hat. Din tilted his head at the sight of it. “You’re gonna make a really cute frog too.”

“Buir, be frog like me and Ma!” Grogu tried to bounce on Din’s shoulder, and the Mandalorian lifted a gloved hand to stabilize the boy easily.

“Alright.” Din rumbled and bowed his head down. You situated the bucket hat over the top of his helmet, it was a snug fit, and when he stood back to his full height you snickered at the sight of him while Grogu chirped his happiness. You cupped your cheeks with a teasing grin, “Oh, my two handsome boys.”

“No, Ma.” Grogu shook his head. “Not boys. Frogs.”

“Of course. I’m sorry.” You replied.

Din nodded, “Yeah, Ma, get it right.”

Grogu eagerly begged for the three of you to go. You grabbed the clean pillowcase you laid out to carry Grogu’s spoils, and on the way out Din automatically slid his hand into yours⏤ tangling his leather clad fingers with yours.

“Ad’ika! Don’t swallow that whole⏤ chew it.” Din scolded through the throngs of people and Grogu spared his father a quick glance before swallowing the brownie handed to him whole. You chuckled from beside Din who shot you a look you knew to be withered. Though taking the Mandalorian seriously in his hat was difficult. 

“Grogu is making out like a thief.” You commented. Din’s arm lazily rested around your shoulders. The two of you were trailing behind Grogu who was dragging his half full pillowcase of goodies to stall after stall. He had technically already seen everyone once, but the second time around it seemed everyone found him too cute to deny giving him more. 

Din shook his head. “They’re spoiling him.”

“Yeah, okay.” You snorted. “You’re one to talk.”

“I don’t spoil him.”

“Mhmm.” 

Din lifted the hand hanging around your shoulder to lightly grasp and tug down on your ear making you laugh. It was a known fact that Grogu had Din wrapped around his little, green finger. Din could be in denial all he wanted. You held the boy’s stuffed frog to your chest. Grogu had trusted you with the task of carrying the comfort toy while he held his pillowcase himself. 

“You know,” You bumped your hip against his lightly, “We make a cute little family of frogs.”

Din hummed in agreement and you felt him pull you closer into his side, “Not just when we’re frogs.” The words came out mumbled under his modulator, but you caught them all the same and glanced away from Grogu pleading for more snacks to stare up at the bucket hat wearing warrior. There was something that made your heart just ache in joy anytime Din referred to the three of you as a family. He must have felt the gaze as he turned to look your way. Din cleared his throat and shook his head. “You know, I just mean…”

“I know.” You nodded and turned back to stare at Grogu who was scarfing down another brownie. “I think so too.”

Din didn’t respond, but you felt him squeeze your shoulder.

“Not sleepy.” Grogu mumbled in your arms as you cradled, finally home once more. He had wiped himself out running around gathering treats and playing with the other kids. His sugar high nearly had him vibrating at the time, and now he was only barely clinging to consciousness. Grogu had his own frog back in his arms as Din dumped out the goodies from the boy’s pillowcase. You stood in the living room just gazing down at the adorable boy fighting sleep in your arms. You chuckled and Grogu scrunched his nose with a pout. “Not funny. Not sleepy.”

“I think you are sleepy, little frog.” You whispered and lifted a finger to drag down the length of his nose. His brow grew more heavy as you repeated the motion and when he realized what you were doing he whined and squirmed. 

“Wanna play more.” Grogu’s words mumbled and muffled together, laden with sleep. 

“Time for bed, ad’ika.” Din replied. His voice was unmodulated and when he stepped up behind you, Din pressed his head to the side of yours while wrapping his arms around you and Grogu both. The curiosity around Din’s features always existed in the back of your mind, but you had no qualms with keeping your eyes locked on the little green bundle in your arms. Grogu whined at Din’s words, but he also nestled deeper into your arms and against your chest. You went back to tracing over his brow and nose lightly with the tip of your finger and playing with the tuft of white hair still sticking out from under his hood. Eventually, Grogu slipped into sleep, losing the battle, and his soft snores filled the air. You still didn’t move. Din buried his face against the crook of your neck, peppering kisses along the skin there, before murmuring, “Do you want me to take him and put him to bed?”

“No.” You replied. “I don’t wanna put him down yet.”

A part of you was sure you could stand in this one spot for the rest of your life. Grogu cuddled to your chest, safe and warm, as Din’s strong arms wrapped around you both. Din chuckled, you felt the rumbling sound, and when he spoke he did so with his lips brushing against your skin, “Now, who’s spoiling him?”

You let out a soft sigh of content and let your weight lean back on your heels to rest against Din. The Mandalorian just rested his head on your shoulder and the three of you savored the moment of quiet and peace.

buir: father ad'ika: little one ner karta: my heart

For notifs on updates, as I no longer do taglists, please follow @theidiotupdates

dividers by @saradika

[amomentsescape]

Hey, earlier I was suprised to find theres no Christmas themed slashers x reader so could I request just that with the reader and the slashers separately decorating, baking, movies, opening gifts etc? Thx

Slashers Doing Christmas Activities with Reader

A/N: You're so right about not having any Christmas themed Slasher fics! I was thinking about coming up with a Christmas prompt list for the Gotham and Slasher fanatics. If any of you reading this would like a prompt list, let me know!

Freddy Krueger

He's been ready for Christmas all year

I mean, have you seen his sweater?

He knows you've been excited too

So what better way to celebrate than to decorate?

And decorating with Freddy is unlike any other

He can create literal worlds for you

You want 50 Christmas trees in the living room? Sure thing

You want actual elves helping you out around the house? Coming right up!

Plus, Freddy isn't much for decor, so he gives you free reign on doing whatever you want

He most definitely will joke around with you though

He'll change the gold lights to red or have "Santa Clause" tied up in the corner of the room next time you visit

It's all in good fun, of course

You punish him by forcing a Santa hat on his head

Michael Myers

The only "good" holiday to Michael is Halloween

What's the point of Christmas anyways?

Show joy to others and share kindness?

Gross

But he's with you now, so he has to make you happy in some way or another

When you suggest decorating the house, he just sort of gives you that dead stare

But he doesn't disagree

He watches you hang lights up and set up little trinkets everywhere

He will help you with the heavy lifting or anything that involves being really tall

Silently complains about carrying an actual tree into the house though

He doesn't really get the Christmas joy at all, but if it makes you happy, then so be it

Jason Voorhees

Jason's love for Christmas has never truly gone away

In fact, he really appreciates this time of year since there are less run in's with rowdy teens during the winter

So when you suggest a Christmas movie night cuddling together, he's all in

Of course, you watch the films you both remember from childhood

But you also decide to introduce him to the world of Hallmark movies

Unsurprisingly, Jason has a thing for cheesy romance films

But something about the snow falling outside in the woods while a warm fire burns in the fireplace makes Jason feel all giddy

Even a slasher can't escape the joy of Christmas

Thomas Hewitt

One of Thomas's favorite things to do during the holiday season is to decorate the tree!

It's one of the small childhood memories he holds onto, and he's very excited to make new memories with you

He happily carries in the tree, refusing to let you do any of the lifting

And once it's set up, you both are digging through old bins to find ornaments and lights to hang up

You both even make your own special ornament to put on the tree!

And once it's all set up, he lifts you up so you can put the star on top

You both end up turning off all the lights in order to just admire the tree better, just casually chit chatting and sharing festive chocolates

Bubba Sawyer

It's surprisingly his idea to bake a bunch of Christmas treats!

He got so many ingredients

Cookies, cupcakes, pies, if you can think of it, Bubba wants to make it

Of course, there's traditional Christmas music playing in the background

Bubba goes a little crazy with the sprinkles

By the end of everything, the kitchen looks like a war zone

But with everything baking, the house smells amazing

Instead of dinner, you both eat your treats

Bubba has a sugar rush and ends up excitedly bouncing off the walls

You both end up crashing on the couch on top of one another

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms loves Christmas

He has several classical records of Christmas music that he likes to play throughout the month

He has you help him dig out the old decorations he hasn't touched in years

You almost feel weird touching them since each ornament is worth $100 or more

But you and Brahms do have fun setting up the tree and putting the pretty lights everywhere

He also finds some old books he used to read as a child

You both read the Christmas stories together, sharing nostalgic memories of what the holidays were like when you were both younger

It's just a very sweet and wholesome night

Norman Bates

One day, the living is as cozy and cute as normal

The next day, it's suddenly decked out in lights, candles, and a huge Christmas tree with several pristine gifts under it

You mouth was agape

Norman just stood back with an innocent smile on his face

You had no idea he would do all of this while you were out

But thankfully, you had a few gifts wrapped up for him too

With a lighthearted Christmas show playing in the background, you and Norman swap gifts and open them together

The home is filled with surprised laughter and "thank you's" as you both look at what was given

You two know each other so well

He must have been Santa since he literally got you everything on your list

Billy Loomis

Yep, you guessed it

Christmas slasher films

But of course, Billy knows that watching horror films 24/7 every holiday isn't exactly the ideal celebration

So he tries to balance it out

Buys (steals) several expensive gifts for you and wraps them up

He even buys a few candles in your favorite scent to help make the mood more festive

Orders take out for you both as well

This makes the movie marathon feel more special

He MIGHT even let you talk him into matching pajamas

He complains but secretly loves it

Stu Macher

Buys you two matching onesies

He also finds a homemade hot cocoa recipe he wants to try out

He does accidentally burn himself, but it doesn't change his mood any

He might not love this holiday as much as Halloween, but it is a VERY close second

He also manages to find the largest Christmas tree you have ever seen

It barely fits in the house

But when it comes to Stu, everything needs to be extra

You both spend the night flipping back and forth between lighthearted Christmas films and cheesy horror ones

Eric Draven

Christmas has always been a favorite for Eric

It's the one day a year where things are a bit calmer, and he gets to spend it lounging around with you

He definitely made Christmas into a week long event by giving you a different gift each day

Cooks you breakfast in bed

Is somehow even more affectionate during this time

Refusing to decorate the tree unless you are doing it with him

Finds a little Santa hat for Gabriel

He literally just spends the majority of the holiday being lazy and cuddly with you

Not that you're complaining