#these are all little details you’d only catch if you are very familiar with my teen designs
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love wins!
#hermie unworthy#hermie the unworthy#normal oak swallows garcia#scary marlowe#lincoln li wilson#taylor swift dndads#silver scribbles (art tag)#dungeons and daddies#dndads spoilers#the doodler#in which hermie decides being included sucks actually#the idea is Hermie is wearing Scary’s early season outfit (with some changes bc memory/limits of shapeshifting)#like the pins on her jacket are missing and she only has one belt#but scary is wearing something slightly different bc she took some stuff off as terri and also she’s in mourning ::(#the one detail i actually put thought into is her early season outfit being more red-leaning and the one in this drawing being more purple#more love!!#also she’s not wearing her makeup#Taylor is wearing his rin shirt rather than the haruhi one bc it matches the palette better lmao#oh and link isn’t wearing his locket anymore bc it had a picture of Grant in it#these are all little details you’d only catch if you are very familiar with my teen designs#which nobody should be#also Hermie’s shirt says ‘what the fuck’ instead of ‘fuck word’ which is what’s usually on Scary’s shirt#bc i think it’s funny
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Cross The Line (Prologue)
« Doing something outside the bounds of acceptable behavior. »
Mina x gn!reader
synopsis - being a regular at urgent care raises suspicions but apparently also temperatures which results in the blurring of a few lines
wordcount - 1.5K
T/W - mentions of diverse injuries, stitches, and the hospital obviously. resident!mina, patient!reader angst but also fluff that’s not really fluff bc its just angst disguised as fluff. yearning if you will.
A/N - i made my research after writing🧍♀️girlie is NOT supposed to be alone with the patient but oh well. we’re here for the plot. happy mina day to all who celebrate!!
Mina’s movements were calculated. Precise, and accurate. She never let any room for the unexpected. It was too dangerous.
Her attention was consumed by the monitors, checking and writing down any anomalies she deemed important enough ahead of your transfer to a surgical unit. You’d come in with an open wound on your cheekbone, and pain in your arm which she quickly found out was a fracture in need of surgery.
She was known to be effective, eyes sharp and catching any detail that dared try and escape her. Like how your heartrate slightly increased on the monitor when she came in earlier, or the way you looked at her whenever you landed in the building.
She tried to ignore the familiar sense of déjà-vu washing over her, but her questions kept increasing in number. She never knew the reason behind your visits, but the nature of your injuries gave her a few clues. A broken nose, scratches, cuts and open wounds, hematomas… Five visits in the past two years, an unusual average, enough to leave an imprint on any Resident.
Something about you was odd. It pulled at a curiosity she’d vowed to ignore unless in name of the patient’s wellbeing, and you were especially good at tempting her.
For whatever reason, she was the one assigned to your case for every one of your visits. A twist of fate maybe. She’d call it incredible bad luck if she hadn’t grown that damn soft spot.
As frustrating as tending to you could be, the hours it took to do so allowed her to get a glimpse of the person behind the entire Unit’s favorite gossip column. Though that glimpse remained very surface leveled.
You were incredibly hard to read through your blatent lies, and it scared her. It made her see through herself more than she probably ever could you.
In short, she was attracted to you.
“What are you thinking about?” Your voice was soft despite the slight rasp in your throat. It almost made her forget about her surroundings.
“Nothing.” She cleared her throat, tearing her eyes away from your figure as fast as she’d found it.
You chuckled, your mind a little fuzzy from the local anesthesia. “Come on, we’re past that.”
Her fingers halted their motion against the clipboard in her hands, something you barely noticed but still had the strength to smirk at. It wasn’t hard getting a reaction from her, but it was hard to catch it.
You smiled to yourself, closing your eyes as the effects of the anesthesia lingered. That was something you usually kept to yourself, and Mina’s attention didn’t fail to catch that detail either.
"You know, it’s getting hard to believe you're not getting hurt on purpose." She sighed, pushing her glasses back up her nose.
"I would never break a bone on purpose.” You mumbled, wincing slightly as you adjusted yourself on the examination table. “Hurts like hell…"
"Thought you'd be a little tougher," Mina remarked in a tone that pushed your eyes open.
It was colder than you were used to. Icy and slippery.
"Yeah, well… we all have our limits, Mina." You replied quietly.
"It's still Dr. Myoui to you.”
You nodded, pursing your lips apologetically. The words would have pulled a laugh out of you if they’d ever come out of anyone else’s chest, but you knew better around her.
"What happened this time?" She asked, and the question surprised you. A glance at her eyes, now on you only out of respect, and you found out it wasn’t her own will.
Don’t be difficult, they begged. So you played along.
"Fell off a skateboard," You responded with as casual of a demeanor as you could.
She stared at you in silence, leaving you a few custom seconds to see if you'd tell her the truth this time. Instead, you offered her your best smile, and she had to hold her own back. "Do you even have a skateboard?"
"Do you need that information to treat me?"
"Just wondering."
"You seem to do that a lot…" You trailed off, leaving the words hanging in the air.
Mina left that as the last of them to be spoken for a long while, turning her focus onto some more medical nonsense you could never decipher to save your life.
Maybe that’s why your eyes always landed on her.
She could feel them, following her every move around the room, and it was hard not to meet them.
A silence you were used to settled, the quiet hum of the room fading into the tension hanging in the air.
You feigned interest in your hospital bracelet to escape it, but the sight of your own name made you look away from it. The blank ceiling was enough to distract you, but only for a moment.
Not staring at her was an effort you struggled to make even with a sound mind. The first time you’d seen her, it took you a full minute to blink. It had pulled a smile out of her, and the words she used to point it out echoed in a blurry memory.
How safe you felt in her hands that night, you sought the feeling ever since. In vain.
Your gaze bore into her, merciless against the composure she desperately tried to hold on to. Each of your visits tested it in a way she had yet to see. To feel. She would resent you if she doubted your intentions. If she doubted her own.
"How long until it's not anymore?" Your voice broke the silence, startling Mina into meeting your eyes again.
This anesthesia seemed to guide you into an uncharted territory, where the boundaries of her professionalism blurred, seeping through her fingers with your every word.
She seemed lost in the place your words had suddenly lured her into, so you offered some guidance.
"How long until I can call you Mina?"
The question lingered in the air, pulling at the veil you’d draped over your desires.
It seemed you were close to baring them, Mina exposing a glimpse with a soft bite on her bottom lip.
You’d sculpted a fragile bridge. Cracked and vulnerable to the slightest movement. You enjoyed dancing around it, but one wrong step and it all comes crumbling down.
Mina hesitated, eyes avoidant and voice soft as she stepped forward. "Maybe once you don't get hurt anymore," she murmured.
This wasn’t the first dance she invited you to. It was rare, you weren’t used to it, but you’d rehearsed enough to guide yourselves through it.
“You know, I'd love to see you somewhere else. Outside these walls, preferably," You confessed in a whisper, wary of the thin curtains separating you from the bustling building.
Those almost slipped her mind. You could tell by the silence that followed.
She put her clipboard on a free space of the table, far enough away to keep it from becoming an obstacle. Her hands reached for your injured cheekbone, carefully examining the cut she’d stitched moments ago.
A breath caught in your throat at the touch and attention, long enough to bring a few changes to the data displayed on the screen not too far from you. A change she didn’t fail to notice yet again as she went to retrieve her notes.
A quiet laugh escaped her lips, catching you off guard. You could only watch her write down whatever conclusions she’d pulled out of her observations, waiting to see if it was safe to carry on.
“Do you feel any pain?” She asked.
“Uhm...” You hummed, focusing in order to identify any pain other than the one in your heart. “Slightly. Now that you mention it.”
Mina nodded and carried on with a bunch of questions about your well-being. You answered all of them honestly, words leaving your mouth without much thought.
“Do you feel lightheaded? Any dizziness?”
“No.”
“Are you feeling thirsty, or hungry?”
“A little thirsty.”
“Can you tell me your name and where you are right now?”
“My name is Y/n, and I’m in… at the urgent care.”
"Where would you like to see me?"
Her voice had dropped a couple decibels on that one. It took a few more seconds for you to sink it in and match an answer.
"Somewhere a little more… colorful?”
Wait…
Your eyes left the spot they’d blankly focused on on the floor to find hers still ignoring you.
“I mean… I don't know, I didn't think that far," you admitted, complying to her silent wishes.
Mina let a smile slip, a rare sight that let you peek at the depth of her feelings, and her thoughts allowed her to fantasize about the world outside. The one she could share with you. "That would be nice," she admitted softly.
Your smile mirrored her own, "So… Is that a yes?" you probed, and she chuckled, ignoring your question once more as she wrapped up her duties.
Just then, a couple nurses stepped into the room, asking Mina to take you away for the transfer you were long past due for.
Your arm was in a far worse state than your face. Or your heart.
"See you in three months, Y/n.”
-
part.2
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Title: I Could Find My Way Back (Marcus Pike/f!Reader)
Rating: Mature
Word count: 3590
Warnings: Discussions of sexual assault (non-detailed and non-graphic). Swearing. Brief descriptions of kissing/making out. Reader is unnamed; Marcus (and other characters) uses nicknames (i.e.: “Sunny”, “sweetheart”, “chica”). Reader identifies as female but is otherwise unspecific and undescribed.
Notes: In the interest of standing by my belief that fiction can be used to Work Through It, this is a very personal one. And as such, it is maybe not applicable to everyone, but I attempted to approach it with respect and kindness and I hope it rings true enough for someone else.
Dedicated to @ladamedusoif… Thank you. 💜
(Dividers by @saradika-graphics)
The last time you saw Marcus, you were both eighteen, both stupid kids in love but with no idea how to handle it. You’d been preparing for your trip west for college; he was headed south. Daily phone calls turned into weekly letters, into bi-monthly check-ins, into Christmas and birthday cards.
You lost touch soon before it happened, and in more than one therapy session you’d openly wondered if that was to blame for your stupid choices. (Your doctor insisted that was normal but very, very untrue.)
And, nearly twenty-five years later, when you walk into the bar and hear a familiar, long-ago guffaw, your heart skips a beat and your breath catches in your throat.
The laugh causes him to toss his head back, and as he lifts it to normal height again, his eyes slide past you — and then back to you.
“Holy fucking shit.”
Despite your nostalgic shock, you grin brightly. “Heya, Marc.”
He’s off his stool and wrapped around you before you can say any more. “Jesus, Sunny, are you real?” he murmurs against your ear. “I’ve only had two beers so you have to be.”
“I’m real, Marcus,” you giggle, hugging him back. His patchy facial hair is thicker than when he was a stubbly kid, his hair a little longer, a little curlier, and a little greyer, but deep in the recesses of your memory he smells and feels and energizes the exact same as your high school sweetheart. The fact that he immediately falls back on your nickname from the old days makes the nostalgia even stronger.
His friends all but abandoned at the bar after a quick explanation, the two of you settle at a small table towards the back of the pub, Marcus’ beer now sitting opposite your Jack and Coke.
“I’m guessing you’re back for the reunion?” he asks, his thumb and index finger stroking and pulling lightly on your pinky.
It’s as if no time has passed, the comfort is so easy.
You nod, taking a sip of your slightly-too-strong drink. “Yeah. Wasn’t gonna, but had some…unexpected time off work,” you explain. (He doesn’t need to know that you were forced into taking your two-week vacation because your entire department was worried you were about five minutes from a burnout breakdown.) “Figured it couldn’t hurt to come back and see some folks.”
“Like me?” His voice is airy, teasing.
“No. Like Kevin.”
Marcus groans. “Oh, god, he’s gonna try to steal you away from me again, just like in school.”
You laugh. “Isn’t he married now?”
“Yeah,” he replies. “A really nice woman named Lily. Never thought Kev would be the settling down kind, but they’re happy. Expecting a little boy soon, too.”
You remember something else you’d heard. “You’re married, too, no?”
“No,” he replies, and the sadness passes quickly. “I was, for a little while. It didn’t work out so I’m on my own again.”
“I’m sorry, Marc. That sucks.”
“Mm, it’s alright. I’ve moved on.” Marcus takes a swig of his drink and eyes you. “What about you? Husband? Boyfriend? Kids?”
You bite the inside of your cheek. “None of the above.”
“Girlfriend?”
“Marcus!”
“Just checking.” He grins, eyes sparkling. “Has it been a long time?”
Pretty much since right after you, you think. But this isn’t the time.
“A while, yeah.”
He takes another mouthful. “A shame,” he mutters when he can speak again.
You almost think you misheard.
“So that settles it. You’re my date to the reunion.”
“What?”
Marcus pinches the skin of your hand. “You heard me. You and me, just like old times. That sound okay?”
You feel like you don’t have much of a choice, but you’re also pretty okay with that. “Uh, yeah. Sure, I guess?”
“Good. Where are you staying?”
You give him the address of the Airbnb you’re in, and he nods. “Alright. I’ll pick you up at five tomorrow, okay?”
“Y-yeah, okay.”
He finishes his beer, then watches — somewhat impressed — as you down the remainder of your own drink. “I’m really glad you’re back, Sunny.”
“Me, too, Marc.”
You aren’t lying.
After several different outfit choices, you’re finally settled and smoothing your striped sweater over the top of your slim black pants, your shoes cute but practical for a night that’ll probably involve far more standing than sitting. You fix your hair quickly as you hear the beep of the horn outside, and grab your phone and purse before running out and locking the door behind you.
Marcus isn’t dressed that much differently than he was at the bar, though now his button down is secured under a blue polka-dotted tie and his jeans have been replaced with a pair of grey slacks. He’s also combed his hair a bit more neatly, though the breeze blowing through the truck’s window has some softly-curly strands falling over his forehead.
You step up to the driver’s seat and rest an elbow on the frame as you lean in to kiss his cheek. “You ready for this? We can still skip out if you want.”
He smiles. “How about we go, and if, after an hour, it’s boring as shit, we sneak out and go to Johnny’s instead?”
It’s the same plan as when you were in school. Johnny’s is the diner on the edge of town — you were shocked to see it was still open when your cab passed it on the way in — and the best place to be a little private and a lot out of the way. You and Marcus had always had a code: if you were at a party or an event or a school thing and you wanted out, it was as simple as a little, “Hey, aren’t we supposed to meet John?” and you knew it was time to go.
“Sounds like a plan,” you reply, winking as you walk around the front of the truck and climbing into the passenger’s seat beside him.
The drive to the high school isn’t long, and the silence between you — punctuated by Springsteen’s greatest hits — is light and breezy. Marcus has always been a careful driver, and you’re happy enough to just watch the old haunts go by out your window as you both breathe-sing to “Thunder Road”.
When he parks in the lot, he’s actually at your door before you can get out, and he offers his arm. “C’mon, just like when we were kids,” he reminds you. You roll your eyes but accept, your hand gripping his bicep as you head into the gymnasium.
“Pike, that cannot be who I think it is!”
You’d recognize Kevin Garcia’s voice anywhere. Marcus’s best friend since childhood, he’s always been loud and boisterous and probably a little more trouble than anyone should be, but you’d always really liked him like a brother.
“Kev, be nice,” Marcus warns, but it’s too late — Kevin has you up in his strong arms, spinning you despite the height and weight you have on him.
“Holy shit, chica, you’re prettier than you were in high school.”
You roll your eyes, hiding your embarrassment. “Could say the same, Kev.” He’s gorgeous — chiseled from marble, you and your girlfriends had always joked. His brown eyes are lighter than Marcus’, but just as easy to lose yourself in; his features are gruffer; his hair more tightly curled. If you hadn’t been spoken for all through high school you might have given him a fair shot. (His friendship with Marcus hadn’t stopped the occasional flirtation from him, anyway.)
Kevin introduces you to Lily, a statuesque redhead with more freckles than you’ve ever seen and a belly that seems to threaten to topple her with one wrong move. Kevin’s palm stays right on it, cautious and protective the whole time the four of you talk, and you can’t help but smile.
You break away from the Garcias after a bit, promising to catch up more before you head home, and you find yourself heading to the catering tables while Marcus stops to chat with a group of people you don’t know very well.
“Hey, you.”
You freeze in place as you’re filling your plate, your blood running cold. Despite every single instinct in your entire being telling you to just drop it and run, you don’t — instead you take a single, deep breath and look up.
It can’t be him. It can’t. Last you’d heard from your lawyers, he had moved out to Arkansas once he was released, and you’d figured that was the end of it.
But it is him. The same sharp, ice-blue eyes. The same swoop of auburn hair, though artificial now.
That same shark-toothed grin.
“I… I’ve gotta — ” The words don’t come, but you run, your plate finally discarded on the table.
You hear him calling out for you but you refuse to turn, your heart pounding in your ears as you desperately look for Marcus.
“Hey, hey, slow down.” It’s Kevin’s voice, his hand on your arm gently. “You alright?”
“I — I need to find Marcus,” you breathe, and you’re annoyed to realize there are tears clogging your throat. “Have you seen him?”
Kevin gestures over his shoulder. “Back by the hoop talking to one of the teachers,” he said. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
You wish you could answer but you’re just not ready. Instead, you fake a smile and hurry off, leaving him confused as you beeline towards Marcus.
“John just called,” you manage as soon as you’re in earshot. Marcus turns to you, eyebrow lifted, but when he sees your expression, he adjusts. “We’ve gotta go.”
“Okay.” There’s no question. He says his goodbye to Mr. Williams, his arm snaking around your waist. You know you’re shaking, you can feel it yourself, but you hope he won’t ask — at least, not now. With a little wave to Kevin and Lily who are not far from the door you’re headed towards, you keep close to Marcus’ body and keep your head down.
He doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t say a word until you’re in the car and about fifteen blocks from the school. It’s only then that he pulls into the empty parking lot of a local bank and puts the car in park.
“Hey. Sunny, are you okay? What happened? What’s wrong?”
“No, it’s nothing, it’s…”
You lose control when his hand comes to rest on your knee. Two decades of tears stream from your eyes as you gasp for air, and Marcus jumps out of the car to come to your door and pull you into his arms. You’re still in your seat, but tucked tightly against his chest, your body racked with sobs and your chest burning as you struggle to regain control.
To his credit, Marcus doesn’t push. He holds you, one hand cupping the back of your head, the other stroking gentle lines up your back. You know you’re staining his sweater with your tears, but he gives no indication that it bothers him. Instead, he murmurs in your ear, “It’s alright, it’s okay” over and over.
“I — ” You try to speak, and it’s difficult, but you know you need to get the words out. “I can’t — I can’t tell you here,” you finally manage. “Someone might hear.”
There’s some kind of fear in Marcus’ eyes when he pulls back to meet yours. “Oh, sweetheart,” he breathes. “Alright. Do you want to go back to the apartment, or do you want to come to mine?”
An irrational thought comes into your head: What if he knows where I’m staying?
“Can we go to yours?”
“Of course.” He brushes your cheeks with his palms. “Are you okay? Do you want to wait a few more minutes?”
You shake your head. “No. I don’t want to… I want to get out of here.”
Marcus smiles comfortingly and presses a kiss to your forehead. “I’ve got you, Sunny.”
It isn’t until you’re settled on the couch, your still-shaking hands wrapped around a mug of tea, that Marcus joins you, his dark eyes soft and concerned.
“Do you want to talk?”
You nod, and Marcus shifts closer, his knee bumping against yours as he rests an arm across the back of the sofa, right along your shoulders.
“I was at the catering table,” you start. “And Mr. Mason came up to me.”
“The chemistry teacher?”
You nod. Marcus doesn’t pry, letting you tell the story on your own time, but his thumb strokes over the back of your neck gently.
“Everyone knows he was a bit of a weirdo, right?”
“I never had him as a teacher, but yeah, I heard he was a little…off.”
You take a deep breath. “He wasn’t just off, Marc.” A pause. “After we graduated, I ran into him at the movies one night. My friends wanted to go to a club after, and I didn’t, so Mr. Mason offered to drive me home.”
Your heart is racing, and you’re not sure the words will come out, but you close your eyes and force them past your lips. “We never made it to my house. He…he raped me and left me on the street a mile from home.”
When you manage to look up again, Marcus’ handsome face is white with rage. His hand has stilled behind you, his thumb against the bend of your shoulder.
“And he just…showed up today?” There’s something new to his voice, something dark and sinister in it. You’re moved to put your cup down and press your palms to his thigh.
“He went to jail for five years,” you explain. “It was a miracle he even got that.” This part feels easier, somehow. “They tried to…say it was my fault, that I’d enticed him. But he had bruises from where I fought back. It was enough, I guess.” You sigh. “When he got out, my lawyers told me they said he’d been…rehabilitated. He registered and moved away. I…didn’t think I’d ever see him again, but today… He was right there. Marc, I could feel him, he was so close.”
You can feel his body trembling under your hands, and you wonder if telling him was the right thing to do. Marcus is in the FBI. You’ve known this for years, been aware of his career, and telling him about your assault and the fact that the man who did it is still around might not be the best move on your part. He may be your sweet, kind, loving friend — but he’s also a trained law enforcement agent.
“Did he touch you tonight?”
You’re startled back to the moment. “N-no. He just said hi, really casual. I couldn’t even reply. I panicked and ran to you.”
“I’ll fucking kill him.”
You tighten your fingers on his leg, shaking your head viciously. “No. Marcus, no. I don’t even know if he wanted anything other than to say hi…”
“He has no right!” He pushes off the couch, away from you. “He hurt you. And then he gets to come back and pretend he’s just your old teacher? Who the hell let him back into that school?”
You can feel tears pricking at your eyelashes again and you drop your hands into your own lap. “It’s been twenty-four years, Marc,” you whisper. “He’s been out longer than he was in. It doesn’t mean much to anyone anymore, so long as he’s not back to teaching. I’m an adult — they can’t legally make him stay away from me after all this time, not unless he does something again.”
“This is insane,” Marcus roars. “I’m going back. I’m going to confront him.”
“Marcus, no.” You climb to your feet, this time catching his face in your hands. “I wanted you to know but I don’t want you to do anything stupid.”
“He hurt you, Sunny,” he says, gripping your forearms lightly. “Shit, I should have taken you with me when I left that summer.”
“It’s not your fault,” you reply. “Or mine. Legally, he got his punishment. It doesn’t matter how I feel about it now — he’s done his time.”
“But you…”
“I survived, Marc,” you say, the tears falling again. “It’s been hell, but I’m here. And I found you again, so that tells me I did something right.”
“I should have stayed with you. Or taken you with me,” he repeats, and you see his eyes shimmering just the same. “I wish I’d have been here to protect you.”
“You protected me tonight, Marc.” You take a tiny step closer, your body up against his. “God, I’m sorry. I should never have told you.” Letting your hands fall slack, they end up on his shoulders as you press your forehead to his chest. “It’s not on you, at all. I just… I don’t know why, but I needed you to know. Selfishly.”
You feel Marcus’ arms slip around you, careful, like you’re made of porcelain. His lips press to the top of your head, his breath shaky as he holds you again. “Not selfish,” he murmurs. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’m sorry it happened. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you after. I’m sorry you’re still so scared now.” He tightens his grip, just a little. “I never stopped loving you,” he admits, and your heart skips several beats. “And now I wish I’d have told you that before, because maybe things would have been different.”
You lift your eyes to meet his again, and his face is so stained with tears your own threaten to increase tenfold. “I’m sad you left, but I’m glad you didn’t know me right after,” you say honestly. “I wish no one did.”
“And now?”
You sigh, bringing a hand to your face to wipe your cheeks. “Not perfect, but getting better.”
Marcus’ fingers flex against your spine. “Could say the same about me, in some ways.” You giggle despite yourself, and he closes his eyes. “Sorry. Very different scenarios.”
“Don’t apologize.” You drag a line over his collarbone with your fingertips. “What a fucking pair we are, huh?”
His lips quirk a bit. “Chaos as always,” he replies. He lifts your right hand, pressing his lips to your palm. “Do you want to go back? I won’t leave your side for a moment.”
You shake your head. “No. I’m sorry to miss seeing people, and we’ll have to call Kevin and apologize, but I can’t go back there, Marc.”
“You’re right,” he says. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have suggested it.”
“I need you to stop saying sorry,” you urge. “And I need one more thing from you.”
“What’s that?”
You smile softly for the first time in hours; you know, for the first time since leaving the reunion, that it isn’t the trauma speaking. “Kiss me.”
Shock crosses Marcus’ features, but they’re gone almost instantly and instead, he leans in and captures your mouth with his own, his fingers tilting your chin up to give him better access. In the moment, nothing matters anymore — the past, the trauma, the fear and the pain is all gone as the present takes control and your body reacts to Marcus, back in your arms where he belongs and holding you like you’ll disappear if he lets go.
You wake to the sunlight on your face and the feel of Marcus’ arm around your waist, his breath against your forehead. You’d spent the rest of the night making up for lost time, the conversation between kisses moving from careers to families to life in general. You’d fallen asleep first, barely waking up when Marcus helped you from the couch to his bed, only just aware enough to curl into him as he climbed in behind you.
Peeling yourself out of his grip, you slip out of his bed and down the hallway to the bathroom. In the mirror’s reflection, you see your eyes are still somewhat puffy from crying; your lips are slightly chapped from Marcus’ facial hair. Your makeup is smudged and you groan, grabbing the bar soap on the sink to wash your face best as you can, grateful when you spot a bottle of lotion that will at least somewhat make up for the harsh scrub.
Your sweater smells a bit stale, and you slip it off, grateful for the black tank you’d worn underneath it. You peek into Marcus’ medicine cabinet and find his deodorant, using just enough to make yourself feel just a little better and revelling in the spicy scent you know from him now on your own skin.
When you get back to the bedroom, Marcus is stretching, his eyes bleary as he looks down the bed towards you. “I thought you’d left,” he says, his voice thick with sleep.
You climb in beside him again, sliding your arms around him and pressing a kiss to his patchy beard. “I wouldn’t do that,” you reply. “Not without telling you.”
He strokes a line along your cheek. “Do you wanna get breakfast at Johnny’s before I take you back to your Airbnb?”
“Mm, that’d be nice,” you reply. I don’t want to go back, though. I want to stay here.
As if he can read your mind, he smiles. “You can bring stuff here if you wanna stay a few more days. I’ll pay off your room fees.” He kisses your nose. “Actually, I’d really like it if you would stay.”
“I think I’d like that too.” You hold his gaze. “Marc?”
“Mm?”
“I’m glad I came home.”
He grins, this time kissing you deeply. “Me, too, Sunny. Me, too.”
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#marcus pike fanfiction#marcus pike x reader#marcus pike x f!reader#marcus pike x female reader#marcus pike x you#the mentalist#marcus pike#fanfiction#writing!
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By chance
Pairing: Best friend! Jung Wooyoung x Reader
Genre: Fluff, Crack
CW: None
Word Count: 5831
Prompts: 14) “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”
22) “Shut up and kiss me.”
48) “I can’t help who I fall in love with.”
Summary: A friend date with Changbin turns into you being introduced to two of his friends, one of which falls head over heels for you in an instant, but there’s just a little something stopping him from telling you.
Prompt List MasterList Buy me a Coffee
You could see your breath come out as a small cloud every time your best friend Changbin made you laugh as you walked down the cold streets to your destination. Nights like this were a regular thing for you and Changbin, you’d been friends since school and despite his busy schedule from being an idol you both always managed to find some time to hang out. Approaching your favourite fast food restaurant Changbin did his usual stunt that always made you laugh, rushing to the door and opening it with a bow.
“M’ lady.”
“Why thank you kind sir.” You laugh playing along with his act which made him follow in laughter.
“Okay rock, paper, scissors, loser buys food.” Changbin suggests and you’re all for it, you always liked a harmless bet especially if food was the prize.
“You’re on.” It takes a few rounds for a winner was decided. When you pulled paper to his rock you couldn’t help but jump up and yelp with joy while he threw his head back groaning fishing his wallet out of his pocket.
“I didn’t wanna play anyway.” He pouts as you look at him with a raised eyebrow
“It was your idea dumbass.”
“Yeah , yeah okay, your usual?” You nod and head off to find a booth for the two of you.
It’s not long before Changbin is walking back over to you with a tray full of food, sliding into the booth opposite you.
“You owe me next time.”
“Hey, it was your idea to play rock, paper, scissors and you lost, like usual, so I don’t owe you anything.” You smile taking your food from the tray and pushing it to one side out of the way.
Before he’s able to take a bit of his food his attention is drawn to the door as it opens, seeing two very familiar faces walk into the restaurant. It takes him a couple of seconds to realise it really was who the thought it was before calling over to them.
“Wooyoung, Mingi!” He calls out, drawing the attention of not only the two men but also a few others seated around you as he waved them over.
“Wha...”
“They’re other friends of mine, they’re fellow idols but they work in a different company. Trust me you’ll love them.” Changbin smiles at you before shifting his eyes to his friends. The two exchange a few words before the shorter one makes his way over to you as Changbin gets up to pull him into a quick hug.
“How’re you doing man, come, take a seat.” Changbin gestures patting the seat next to him.
“Thanks, we’re not interrupting are we?” The man asks giving you a glance and a smile.
“No, no, it’s fine. Wooyoung this is y/n, y/n this is Wooyoung.” Changbin introduces and Wooyoung hold his hand out for you to shake. His eyes met yours and he was instantly smitten with you, the way your eyes seemed to sparkle and your smile so warm and welcoming. He suddenly felt a little nervous, wondering if his hand was sweating as you shook it or if his eyes were on you for a moment too long making him look like a creep. Kicking himself mentally he knew he needed to calm down and keep his cool.
“So you’re the famous Wooyoung I’ve heard so much about.” His eyes widen at what you said, a bit taken aback.
“Changbin’s told you about me?”
“Of course man,” Changbin pipes up. “I talk about you all the time, you’re one of my best friends why wouldn’t I?”
“Oh stop, you’ll make me blush.” Wooyoung says covering a cheek with one hand while waving the other at Changbin to make him stop talking. The two men have a small catch up and fill you in on some details, telling you a few funny stories they had. Caught up in the conversation you didn’t notice the other man walk over until he took a seat next to you which made you jump a little.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you jump, I’m Mingi.” The taller man smiles. You and Mingi became acquainted in no time.
The longer Changbin and Wooyoung spent time catching up the more you got to know about Mingi until it felt like you’d known him for years. The laugh you let out over one of Mingi’s stories had Wooyoung’s eyes back on you, and if you’d caught them you’d have seen the small look of melancholy in them.
“Woo?”
“Hmm?” Wooyoung blinks a couple of times snapping him out of his trance and bringing his attention back to Changbin.
“You good?” Wooyoung nods quickly before taking a sip of his drink, not making eye contact with Changbin and trying desperately to keep his eyes off you. Changbin looks between you and Wooyoung and smiles to himself realising what’s wrong with his friend.
“So y/n, how did you and Changbin meet?” Wooyoung finally says, looking for any excuse to talk to you and get your attention on him without feeling weird about it.
“Oh, we met in high school, I transferred to the same school and at the time I obviously had no friends there, I spent my lunches alone a lot and that’s when Changbin noticed and asked me to join him and his friends one day and since then I haven’t been able to get rid of him.” You laugh looking over to Changbin who was holding his chest feigning hurt to which you stick your tongue out at him.
Wooyoung could feel a little pain in his chest seeing the way you and Changbin interact, you’re so close and you fit so well together. He felt like an idiot for becoming instantly star struck with you knowing it could end in a lot of pain on his half. A few more stories of you and Changbin in high school and a bit of chatter later and it was time for you all to leave. All four of you walk out of the restaurant together coming to the end of the last conversation before you were stood together outside the restaurant.
“We’re heading this way, it was great seeing you guys again, we need to hang out more.” Changbin says addressing the other two men.
“Yeah we really should, when we all have a day off we should get the two groups together.” Mingi suggests looking down to Wooyoung to back him up only to see he’s still glancing over at you, not that you notice.
“Sure thing, I’ll talk to the guys when I get back and I’ll drop Woo a text so we can plan something. Well until then, see you guys.” Changbin finishes, turning on his heel to walk in the opposite direction as the others do the same.
“It was nice meeting you both.” You call over to them giving them a small wave before catching up to Changbin.
Walking back to your apartment you notice how Changbin hasn’t stopped giggling to himself and nudging you with his elbow.
“Seriously what’s gotten into you?”
“What did you think of them?” Changbin asks, stupidly big grin on his face.
“They’re really nice, I don’t know them still but from a first impression point of view they’re really nice guys and I like them. When I was talking to Mingi I thought he was super sweet, a gentle giant type of guy, and Wooyoung, I didn’t really get to talk to him much but I can already tell he’s a character.” You laugh thinking back to how he joked with Changbin and how his high pitch laugh took you off guard at first but very quickly became hysterical to you.
“And that’s why he’s my best friend.” Changbin retorts with a smug smirk.
“Hey, I thought I was your best friend.” You pout crossing your arms over your chest.
“You are you know you are, but he’s...”
“I’m pulling your leg Binnie calm down.” You laugh slapping his shoulder.
“You know, Wooyoung is a really great guy, talented too, you need to see him perform he’s really something else.” Changbin couldn’t help buy hype up his best friend to you, especially after seeing the way Wooyoung was towards you, he needed to test the waters for him.
“You’ll have to show me one day, but just from looking at him he has this...I don’t know...aura I guess, I mean he has the physique of a dancer that’s for sure.” Changbin couldn’t stop himself, he was winking at you and nudging you raising his eyebrows which makes you frown at him in confusion.
“What?”
“Eyeing up Woo were we?”
“I was just observing Binnie, the guy was sat opposite me, it’s not like he was the other side of the damn room.” You said a little too defensively.
“Ah ‘observing’ I get it, so you weren’t looking because you thought he was attractive?” His questions started to feel like light interrogating, you could feel your cheeks start to warm as a blush washes over them, but you don’t let your guard down.
“I mean he’s a good looking guy, anyone can see that.” That phrase didn’t help your case, if anything it made Changbin even worse, raising his eyebrows at you and poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue.
“He’s single~” He sing songs, mischievous grin on his face. “I can hook you up if you want.” You shove him lightly scoffing while you do so.
“Will you shut up.” You roll your eyes at him, blush still very present on your face.
“I’m not hearing a no.”
~Time Skip~
It’s been a month since Changbin had introduced you to Mingi and Wooyoung and since then it was like you and Wooyoung were two magnets, constantly finding yourselves bumping into one another. This time was different though.
You’d walked into your usual coffee shop for your daily fix of caffeine, it was quiet which you liked, it meant there were plenty of places to sit and it wasn’t loud, just the low murmur of other customers quietly talking amongst themselves as background noise. You were stood in the que when you heard a familiar voice behind you.
“Y/n?” You turn around to see Wooyoung stood behind you, eyes a little wide from the surprise of seeing you, once again.
“Oh, Hi Wooyoung, what’re you doing here?”
“I should be asking you the same, I come here everyday.” He says folding his arms over his chest with a light smile.
“Same here, how have I never seen you here before?”
“Unless we have but not knowing each other we never noticed.” You shrug thinking there was a possibility he was right, why would you remember the face of a stranger anyways? Well then again...If the stranger was as good looking as Wooyoung you’re sure you’d remember.
“What can I get you?” The barista calls over to you, dragging your attention away from Wooyoung for a moment.
“Iced Americano please.” You smile going to grab your purse from your bag, that was until you were gently moved to the side.
“Same here please.” Wooyoung says to the barista while he quickly fishes out his wallet.
“Wooyoung, what are you doing?” You hiss wanting to protest, but he simply waves you off.
“Wooyoung.” But he ignores you once again, pulling his card out and paying for both drinks.
“Why did you do that?” You pout feeling bad he was spending his money on you even though you still barely know each other.
“I can’t treat you?”
“Wooyoung, you hardly know me, you wouldn’t do that for a stranger.” He opened his mouth a little to say what came to mind first but he stopped in his tracks, the memory of the day he met you coming back to him making him bite his tongue.
“Well who says I can’t get to know you and become friends with you?” Your eyes widen but before you’re able to answer him the barista places both of your drinks on the counter. You both thank him and Wooyoung picks them both up handing you yours. You didn’t mean for it to happen but you couldn’t miss the way your finger tips brushed against his as you took the cup from his hand and you most certainly couldn’t ignore the way you could feel your cheeks heating up at the sudden contact, and now you notice Wooyoung had the same reaction, his eyes widening just a little and the tips of his ears turning the perfect shade of pink to match your cheeks.
“Thank you, I don’t want to sound forward but...um...do you maybe want to sit with me?” Wooyoung looked at you a little dumbfounded from the out of the blue request, he wanted nothing more than to spend some time with you but his conflicting thoughts were the only thing holding him back.
“A...are you sure, I really don’t want to intrude...I could just go home.” You couldn’t avoid the smile creeping onto your face as he tried to ramble his way through an excuse, clearly a little flustered.
“You won’t be intruding, I asked you, but if you don’t want to it’s okay.”
“No!” He said too quickly for his liking while holding a hand out as if to stop you walking away.
“If it’s okay with you then I’ll join you.” with a smile you motion your head towards the tables as a silent “come on then” before leading the way to a spot next to the window and taking your seats. You both engage in a little small talk to ease the slight tension Wooyoung was still clearly feeling but the more you both spoke the more he started to settle down, shoulders dropping as the tension melted away.
“So...” He starts, taking a sip of his coffee as he tries to think of a way to word his thoughts.
“How long have you and Changbin been dating?” If you didn’t hold yourself back you’d have spat your coffee out all over poor Wooyoung’s face, so instead you opted to choke. He sat panicked, not knowing what to do as you choke on your coffee for a few moments.
“What?” You manage out between fits of coughing, tears starting to brim your eyes as you start to calm down and be able to breathe again.
“How long have you been dating, he never mentioned a girlfriend so I was surprised when I saw you two together that night.” You felt bad for laughing but you couldn’t stop it and you only felt worse when you saw the look in Wooyoung’s eyes.
“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry but I just found that really funny, it’s the first time me and Changbin have been mistaken for a couple we tend to get brother and sister a lot.” You continue to laugh and Wooyoung’s face changes to that of disbelief.
“Wait...You’re not together?”
“Oh god no, never, he’s really like a brother to me, our relationship is purely plutonic and it always will be.” You didn’t hear it but Wooyoung let out the biggest sigh of relief in his life.
“I’m so sorry, I got the wrong idea, I thought you guys were on a date that night.” You chuckle at him, noting how the tips of his ears had gone pink again with embarrassment but your laughter made him feel as light as a feather. Now the guilt was gone, he didn’t feel like a tarator stealing glances at you, he didn’t mind now that his heart rate would pick up whenever he saw you and now he could think back to that tiny moment when your finger tips brushed and whole heartedly smile without feeling like the worst friend in existence to Changbin. He could now admire you all he wanted and fall even more head over heels for you than he already was.
The rest of the time you spend at the coffee shop Wooyoung starts to be more himself towards you, he’s not carefully choosing his words anymore, his comments becoming more teasing and flirty as the time goes on and for not one moment does his eyes leave you. in his mind the world could be burning down around you but as long as you’re still in front of him his undivided attention will be on you.
Before you know it, you and Wooyoung have been talking for hours and it was starting to get late.
“Ah shit, I’m sorry Woo, I have to head off.” His heart broke a little hearing you say that, he didn’t want the moment to end, he could sit right where he is and talk to you all night, but hey duty calls. Nodding in response he stands up with you and you both head to the door. Once again you see Wooyoung rushing out in front of you, getting to the door before you and holding it open, thanking him with a smile.
“I’m sorry if I kept you too long.” Wooyoung apologises once you were both outside.
“No, no, it’s nothing like that, I’ve really enjoyed my time with you it’s just I need to get home to my cat, she’s a bit of a diva so if she doesn’t get her food on time she starts tearing up my apartment.” The mental image making you both laugh.
“Do you wanna...maybe do this again some time?” His tone was quiet, like he didn’t really want you to hear him so he couldn’t get rejected.
“I’d love to, let me give you my number so we can arrange something some time.” You hold out your hand gesturing for him to give you his phone which he does in a hurried matter. You quickly punch in your name and number before handing his phone back and hurrying off down the street, turning to wave at him before turning the corner.
He was smiling like a little child feeling all giddy with butterflies in his stomach. Looking down he saw your name “y/n 😊” and smiled, the emoji adding a really cute touch, but his smile dropped when he looked at your number, it was one digit short. He ran and turned the same corner you took in hopes of catching up to you to fix it but upon turning the corner you were nowhere in sight. He felt deflated, like his soul had just been ripped right out of him. He just hoped he’d bump into you again soon.
~The Next Day~
Wooyoung had been scrolling mindlessly through Netflix for the last hour, he was bored out of his mind, house to himself for the next two days while the rest of his band mates travelled home to see family and friends while they could. Picking up his phone, now officially giving up on finding something to watch, he gave Changbin a call.
“Hey man what’s up.” Changbin calls down the phone.
“Hey, I was just wondering if you were free, I got the house to myself if you wanted to come over and play some video games or something.” He could hear voices in the background but couldn’t make out who they were or what they were saying, all he knew was it sounded pretty crowded wherever he was.
“Ah, sorry Woo, I promised y/n I’d take her ice skating while I was still in town, I’ll make it up to you next time I’m in town I promise.” Wooyoung could feel his heart sink a little. Changbin was with you and even though you told him not only that you and Changbin weren’t a couple but you also didn’t have any feelings for him, he still couldn’t help the way he felt, but he had to play it cool for now.
“I’ll hold you to that.” He feigns laughter joking with his friend.
“I promise, I’ll drop you a text and we’ll arrange something.”
“Okay, now go on have fun.” Quick goodbye’s were made and then Wooyoung hung up, sinking back further into the sofa. He wanted to kick himself for how he felt, he had no right to be feeling jealous that you were hanging out with Changbin, you weren’t his to be jealous over in the first place and for all he knew you never would be.
He kept playing images over in his head of him ice skating with you instead of Changbin, him being the one you’re laughing with, him be the one to help you up if you slipped on the ice, him being the one with his arm tightly wrapped around your waist holding you close to him to keep you steady. With a groan he rubs his eyes hard and drags himself up from the sofa, he needed to do something, anything, to get you off his mind.
Nothing seemed to help, it was now 8:30pm and all he’d done was mope around the house, mind only drifting away from you for half an hour at a time but then you’d come hurtling back, flooding his mind with what if’s. He was pulled from his thoughts when his phone beeped next to him, screen lighting up to show a text from Changbin.
[8:33 pm] Changbin: I hope you’re home, I’ll be there in a sec, I have something for you, I can’t stay though I need to get the last train home.
Wooyoung’s eyebrows furrow at the text in confusion as he text back a simple okay and telling him to just walk in when he gets there. In a way he was grateful for the text because now you weren’t on his mind, instead he was trying to think what Changbin got him and why.
It wasn’t long before the sound of the door opening and heavy pants could be heard followed by the sound of shoes being kicked off.
“Broooo.” Changbin yells, walking in to find Wooyoung, plastic bag in hand.
“We felt bad about earlier, I should have asked if you wanted to join but it didn’t cross my mind until later on, I’m sorry man, I hope these make up for it.” Changbin apologises frantically as he hands over the bag to Wooyoung. Setting it on the table Wooyoung fished through the bag seeing a wide variety of foods you and Changbin had picked out from the stalls at the ice rink and by the looks of it you guys got him one of everything that could possibly be there.
“You really didn’t have to get me all this.” Wooyoung laughs pulling out everything one by one and placing them on the table.
“It was the least we could do, but I promise next time I’m in town I’m all yours, boys day in...or out I’m not picky.” They both chuckle and Wooyoung waves his hand at him.
“It’s fine honestly, no hard feelings, it was out of the blue anyway.” They smile at each other for a second before Changbin checks his phone.
“Shit, sorry I couldn’t hang around I really need to get this train. I’ll drop you a text when I know I’ll be around next and we’ll make a plan.” Wooyoung nods at his friend getting to his feet and following him to the door practically rushing him out, the last thing he wants is for Changbin to miss his train home.
With Changbin gone Wooyoung goes through the rest of the bag, pulling out more tasty treats and a small plush fox with his name written on the tag. He felt a smile cover his face, something was telling him you had picked it out for him, Changbin wasn’t really one to get him plush toys. Scrunching up the bag he stops for a second feeling something small still at the bottom of the bag, fishing it out to find a small pink keyring with a white cat on it. Turning it over in his hands he didn’t see any writing on the tag like he did with the fox so his first though was it was yours.
[8:42 pm] Wooyoung: Hey, I found this in the bag.
[8:42 pm] Wooyoung: [Image]
[8:42 pm] Wooyoung: Is this y/n’s?
[8:45 pm] Changbin: I knew I forgot something, she put it in the bag for safe keeping and I forgot to give it back. She doesn’t live far from you, by chance could you drop it to her I’ll give you her address.
Wooyoung didn’t know how to respond at first, up until this point he’d only had two proper conversations with you and now Changbin what him to turn up on your doorstep at almost 9pm? Then again, he wanted to see you even if it was for a second and this could be his chance to get your number corrected.
[8:48 pm] Wooyoung: Sure, I can do that.
The next message to come through was a thank you and your address. Changbin wasn’t lying when he said you don’t live for from each other, you were literally two, maybe three streets over, it was walking distance. he shot up from the sofa, shoving his phone in his pocket and grabbing a jacket along with your keyring and headed out the door.
Wooyoung underestimated how cold it was and was now thanking his lucky stars you lived so close, if you were any further he was sure he’d be turning up to you with icicles coming from his nose. Standing outside your apartment building Wooyoung looked to his phone again for your apartment number before finding the button. His finger was merely hovering over it when a little old lady opened the door leaving the building.
“Oh, are you heading in sweetheart?” She asked when she saw Wooyoung standing in front of her as she held the door open. He thanked her and put his hand out to take the weight of the door off her, keyring dangling between his fingers.
“Is that for your girlfriend?” The old woman asks pointing to the keyring. “It’s very cute I’m sure she’ll love it.” She smiles widely at him. He’s a blushing mess and didn’t really feel it necessary to correct her, instead he thanked her again and watches as she walked off down the steps to make sure she was safe before he went inside.
Wooyoung never would have thought he'd be so nervous simply being stood in front of a door, his palms were getting clammy and his heart was racing in his chest. Taking a deep breath he lets his fist hover in front of the door before quietly knocking. His heart rate speeds up in what he could only assume is an alarming rate when he could hear your soft footsteps from the other side of the door.
“Wooyoung? What are you doing here and how did you get into the building?”
Fuck, he thought to himself panic hitting him with full force from the question. Of course you were going to react that way, not only has he turned up at your door unannounced and, probably in your eyes, snuck into the building but he’s also turned up without you even giving him your address. He was certain you felt like he was stalking you.
“Oh, umm...I’m sorry about this, Changbin gave me your address and this really sweet old lady let me in before I had a chance to ring the bell, I promise I’m not stalking you and I definitely didn’t break in and I...”
“Wooyoung.” You interrupt him with a smile as you become very amused by how flustered he’s gotten.
“Woo, you’re rambling again.” He stops in his tracks and nervously rubs the back of his neck.
“So what brings you here? Why did Changbin need to give you my address?” If his eyes had opened any wider they would have fallen out of his head.
“Oh, you left this in the bag with the food, Changbin said he forgot to give it back to you and he was already on the train so he asked if I could deliver it.” Wooyoung explains quickly, holing out the keyring.
“I was wondering where that got to, thanks woo.” Taking the keyring from him you bring your eyes back up to him noting how he was slightly shivering.
“Oh god I’m sorry, I’ve kept you out here and you’re freezing, come in I’ll make some coffee.” Wooyoung held up his hands not wanting to intrude but you were too quick for him, grabbing his hand and pulling him inside.
He didn’t know what to do, his feet had practically glued themselves to the floor and he was very much still aware of your hand in his and he was praying to anyone that could be listening that you couldn’t feel how much more sweaty his hands had suddenly gotten. As if it was second nature to you, you let go of his hand and scurried off to make coffee but your haste was more to hide your own blushing face, you don’t know what came over you to grab his hand like that all of a sudden but the small burst of electricity you felt when you did it made you not want to let go.
“Your place is really nice.” Wooyoung comments as he slowly shuffles his way inside, looking around in all directions, his whole body going with him as he spins around in circles making you giggle.
“How was the ice skating?”
“It was great, really funny actually.” You laugh remembering what happened.
“Changbin fell as soon as he set foot on the ice and a 10 year old came over to help him up and held his hand for a bit to guide him, it was sweet but by god was it funny.” Wooyoung’s laugh filled the room, the image of Changbin needing help off a kid filling his head.
“Oh I’ll be sure to mention that to him, I won’t let him live it down.”
“You and me both.” You both laugh.
You slide Wooyoung his coffee which he accepts with a string of thank you’s, holding the mug tightly to warm his cold hands. The kitchen is filled with light chatter and bursts of laughter as you and Wooyoung lose yourselves in conversation, talking about literally anything and everything and not for one moment did Wooyoung’s eyes leave yours, he was so concentrated on you he forgot where he was for a while, his concentration also made him oblivious to how silence came over the two of you.
“Woo?” You ask with a raised eyebrow wondering if he was still listening.
“I’ve been thinking about you all day.” He says quietly, just above a whisper. He didn’t realise what he’d done, to him those words were spoken in his head but it wasn’t until he saw your stunned face did he realise what happened.
“Oh my god...fuck...shit...I’m sorry...I thought I...just forget I said anything.” That was the last thing you wanted to do. Possibly the best looking guy you’ve ever laid eyes on had just told you he’s been thinking about you all day and you’re expected to just forget it, no way.
“Wooyoung...Do you mean it? Have you really been thinking about me?” You needed to know, you needed to know where you stood before you even thought about what your possible feelings could mean.
“Yes...But I didn’t mean for it to come out like that, a month ago you were a stranger to me but the moment I saw you I was like....well...I can’t even describe, and at the time I thought you were Changbin’s girlfriend and I tried to keep everything inside...” Wooyoung rambled on, if it was any other time you’d have stopped his rambling to save him but this time you needed to know everything that was going through his head.
“... I know I can’t help who I fall in love with but at that time I didn’t want to put my friendship with Changbin and risk, but then you said you weren’t together and it got worse from there. You’re on my mind probably every minute of every day and when I found out you both went ice skating I couldn’t help but want to be the one with you and I...”
“Wooyoung...”
“Shit...I’ve said to much...I’ll just go.” He was quick to turn on his heels and start towards the door but you lunged to grab his hand before he could get any further away. He as much as he wanted to look at you, he couldn’t bring himself to do it, embarrassment was taking over him, he’d just poured his heart out to you and he didn’t want to risk rejection.
“Woo...Look at me.” You said quietly, pulling lightly on his hand making him take small steps backwards to you before turning around.
“I’m sorry.” Was all he could manage to get out.
“What are you sorry for?” The curiosity was killing you at this point. Was this really how he felt? You couldn’t let him just walk away after all that.
“I threw all of this on you all at once, we’ve practically just met and I’m confessing how I’ve felt since the second I saw you and it’s not fair to dump all of that on you, I’ve probably ruined everything now and honestly I don’t blame you if you never want to be around me again from the sheer awkwardness and...”
“Shut up and kiss me.” You interrupted, pulling his from his babbles again.
“What?” Shocked would be an understatement to how he was feeling, he didn’t know if he’d heard you right but if he did he sure as hell couldn’t feel his legs enough to act on your request.
You could see his nervousness and caution so you took it upon yourself. Pulling his hand a bit harder this time, Wooyoung stumbled in your direction before you could his face in your hands, pulling him down for a kiss. The moment his lips met yours nervousness was out the window. Finding his balance, he waisted no time placing his hands on your waist pulling you flush against his chest to deepen this kiss. It was a moment he felt like he’d waited years for, your strawberry lip balm so sweet and addicting he could spend the rest of his life just kissing you, but the moment had to end at some point.
You pulled away, taking a well needed deep breath and couldn’t help but smile at the way Wooyoung seemed to chase your lips as soon as you parted before he opened his eyes to look at you.
“So does this mean you feel the same?” He asked, feeling more confident in himself but his voice still a little shaky with nerves.
“Of course, I would have made this move ages ago if I could have, but you’re an idol, you live a different life to me and dating is hard, also I didn’t exactly want to jump on a guy I just met.” You laugh trying to brighten up the beginning of your statement.
“Hey...If it’s for you I’d drop idol life in a heartbeat.” That alone would have brought you to tears if you didn’t will yourself to keep them in.
“Do you want to give this a try, us?” He punctuated his question with a little squeeze to your waist and you nod beaming up at him.
“Perfect. Step one to our new relationship...I need you to fix your number, you missed a digit.” The room filled with laughter and your groans from thinking how stupid you were to not double check it before you ran off, only to be comforted by gentle floods of kisses.
Tag list: @kpopcrossworlds @kpopjust4u @whatudowhennooneseesyou @8tinytings @jenotation @grim-adventures58 @owjohny @ker1 @azeret98 @queenwiinks @tinkerbell460 @haylstoney @scuzmunkie @halesandy @multihunbun
#ateez#ateez scenarios#ateez fluff#wooyoung#jung wooyoung#ateez wooyoung#wooyoung scenarios#wooyoung fluff#jung wooyoung sceanrios#jung wooyoung fluff#kpop#kpop scenarios#kpop fluff
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Secret Ingredient - Fushiguro M.
Summary: After dragging him to a Halloween party, you and Megumi fall into the trap set by Inumaki Toge.
Pairing: Fushiguro x Reader
Reader Type: AFAB - gender neutral
Rating: E+
Word Count: 3k
Kinktober Prompt: Costume Play + Aphrodisiacs
Collab: Thrills 'N Kills by @alterbubs
Warnings: College AU, supernatural elements, costume play (sorta), mild dubcon, Gumi has social anxiety, alcohol consumption, aphrodisiacs, a lil blood, biting, reader and Gumi are turned into hybrids, bruises, feral Gumi, some degradation, cunnilingus (brief), rough vaginal sex, begging, unsafe sex, cream pie
Kinktober Masterlist
The thing Fushiguro hated most about college was the parties. He didn’t mind studying or doing homework or applying himself to his work. In fact, he loved the way you’d sit in his lap while he worked on things for his classes. You were like a weighted blanket, taking away his anxieties about not being smart enough or maybe not succeeding. You were his little good luck charm, but it came with a price.
And that price was the parties you’d inevitably drag him to.
He had a small group of friends that he didn’t mind hanging out with. Inumaki, Itadori, his cousin Maki and her girlfriend Nobara were all people he could be at ease around. He didn’t feel pressured to participate in the conversation and didn’t have to put up walls to protect himself as he did with everyone else. It could actually be fun with them, but with strangers? Strangers made him incredibly uncomfortable to be around.
To make matters worse tonight wasn’t just any party, it was a Halloween party and costumes were a requirement to get in. You had been so excited about it all week, bouncing around your shared apartment happily, planning both of your outfits to the very last detail, making sure everything was in order for a wonderful night of drinking, playing games, and hanging out with people from your university.
Thankfully, you knew your boyfriend better than anyone. You told him he could wear whatever shirt and jeans he wanted to so he would be comfortable, he just had to wear a pair of black wolf ears on his head and a matching tail clipped onto his belt loop. Though he was still hesitant at first, you gave him the saddest and poutiest look you could muster in order to convince him.
It had worked. He had given in and agreed. Now he was sitting on the couch feeling like an idiot as you finished getting ready in the other room. He didn’t rush you, mostly because it put off the social event that much longer. He scrolled through social media on his phone, seeing pictures of his friends already dressed up and having fun.
Fun would have been staying home and marathoning scary movies with you cuddled into his side and a big bowl of popcorn. While you had promised that you could do that tomorrow, he was still not looking forward to being around a bunch of drunk strangers tonight.
"How do I look?" Your voice called out, tentative and full of uncertainty. Megumi looked up from his phone, breath catching in his throat as his eyes greedily took in your body.
You had gone with a classic bunny suit: skin-tight black, strapless leotard with nude pantyhose. On top of your head were a pair of upright black bunny ears, one of them bent slightly to make them look a little more realistic. Your feet held a pair of black pumps, perfecting the sultry outfit you had planned for the night's festivities.
Your boyfriend's silence and bewildered expression had a sigh leaving your lips, "I guess I'll try my backup costume..." You muttered, about to leave to find your Kigurumi.
"Wait, no," Fushiguro said quickly, standing up. "You just look so..." He paused, "good." His long legs made it so it only took him a few strides to get to you, pulling you up against his body as his mouth found yours. The familiar sensation of his soft lips against your own flooded you with newfound confidence and perhaps a small bit of embarrassment.
"You look good enough to eat," He said, playfully before starting to kiss down your jaw and neck. You giggled as you pushed him away, not wanting to be any later than you already were. A part of you wished he had rushed you or reminded you of the time.
"Come on, Wolfy," You teased him back, reaching up to pretend to scratch behind one of his faux fur ears. "We're already running behind."
He rolled his eyes at you, "You know there's a thing such as being fashionably late." He said and watched as a cute pout formed on your lips.
"You've been listening to Gojo-sensei too much." You replied accusingly and he scoffed in response. He took your hand and grabbed his keys before leading you outside and locking the door behind you. The party was in the same apartment building thankfully so neither of you had to worry about being a designated driver.
Once you two made it to the appropriate floor, you headed toward the familiar apartment. Inumaki was the host for the night and the party had already spilled into the hallway with multiple people with costumes hanging out there for a bit more space.
Manning the door was Hakari Kinji, an upperclassman that was two years Fushiguro's senior. He was in charge of ensuring the costume rule was upheld, and that no one was attending without one.
His magenta eyes roved over your form, a smirk on his face as he checked you out thoroughly. Fushiguro didn't look too pleased as Hakari's gaze turned towards him. Hakari, wearing a suit styled to look like an old-school American gangster, was clearly unimpressed with Megumi's simple accessories.
"I guess that counts," He said as he moved aside to let you both in. "Next time put some effort into it, damn."
Megumi resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he went inside with you, giggling happily in tow. "Gumi, let's get a drink!" You said, tugging him towards the kitchen, "Inumaki said there was going to be a special punch just for tonight! His own recipe!"
He didn't have the heart to tell you that you probably shouldn't trust something Inumaki made. He knew it wouldn't be worth crushing your excitement. As much as he didn't want to be here, he didn't want to risk ruining your good time.
You found an orange cooler marked drink if you dare ♡ with a stack of red solo cups next to it. You quickly drained the mysterious pink liquid into two cups and handed one to your suspicious-looking boyfriend.
Megumi looked into the cup, observing the swirl of green edible glitter suspended in the slightly frothy beverage. The secret ingredient is rainbow sherbert. He thought to himself, his guard relaxing as he clinked his cup with yours in a mock toast before taking a sip.
The taste was fruity and sweet, the flavorings concealing the absurd amount of alcohol that had been added to it as well as another secret ingredient that Megumi could not figure out. Little did he know that Toge had let the sherbert detail slip on purpose. The real secret was something that only he himself knew.
Fushigruo found his hand linking with yours once more as the two of you walked into the living room. You had already almost finished your drink, noting how delicious it was and that you hoped there was more than just the one cooler.
He agreed with you, sitting down on the couch and pulling you into his lap as he noticed other couples hanging around were all making out, groping each other without care of who could see. Fushiguro made a face of slight disgust, not really being into watching other people suck face.
You sat sideways in his lap, protesting that if you sat normally it would crush your fluffy bunny tail that was really just a large ball of faux fur velcroed to your backside. Megumi placed a large hand on your thigh, not liking some of the looks you had been getting from a few of the men passing by.
You giggled as you finished your drink and set it aside. Megumi finished his drink as well, not wanting to get left behind and knowing the alcohol would at least help him relax. You shifted your weight in his lap and he felt his cock twitch at the rouge thought about how close your pussy was to it.
He nearly let out a groan. He quickly reminded himself that he wasn't some horny seventeen-year-old anymore. He was twenty-one and knew how to control his impulses and wandering hands.
His left hand was at the small of your back just above your tail, thumb rubbing small circles into the fabric of your costume. The air started to feel thick, anxiety creeping up the back of his throat at the thought of being around so many people. He pushed it back down, again not wanting to ruin your night.
A lazy hum vibrated against your lips at the tingles his touch was giving you. Normally you weren't this easy to turn on, it took more than a hand squeezing your thigh or rubbing your back. Still, there was a wetness between your legs that you could not deny.
You wondered what he'd do if he knew you weren't wearing underwear. He probably assumed you had worn a thong, any other cut of underwear would have been visible due to the way the leotard tended to sink between the cheeks of your ass. But when you had tried it with a thong a few days prior, you could still see the faint lines at your hips due to how tight the one-piece was.
Inumaki was making his rounds, delivering drinks to guests. He was trustworthy enough that no one suspected anything of the mysterious cocktail he had made. After all the not-so-secret ingredient was relatively well known by now.
"Looks like you two could use a refill." He said with his tattooed grin. He handed over two cups, one to you and one to Fushiguro. "Drink up!"
Again Megumi looked into the red plastic cup at the foamy liquid. There was a swirl of a rainbow from the slowly melting sherbert and he wondered if it had been this bubbly before. He shrugged to himself before chugging it and setting the empty cup inside of his old one.
"Thirsty, Wolfy?" You teased as you drank yours a little more slowly. It seemed to be affecting you more than him already, which made sense. Your boyfriend always had a higher tolerance than you, even though he didn't drink often.
His eyes connected with yours and something ignited deep within him. He didn't know if it was the way your head was cocked slightly to the side or the adorably innocent expression on your face, but he suddenly felt the need to devour you whole.
"We need to go." He said, his pants growing tighter as lust blossomed forth and grew within him.
You pouted at him, "We just got here..." You said, looking forlorn. "Do you need to go somewhere quiet?" You knew that sometimes in social situations, Megumi would become overwhelmed with anxiety. He had been working on it in therapy but progress was never linear.
"Yes," He rasped as he felt like something was clutching at his throat. He thought it was a panic attack, rather than what it truly was: the incredibly intense desire to be balls deep inside of you.
You stood up, holding your hand out to him so he would grab it and hoist himself to his feet using you as an anchor. "Toge? Can we use your bedroom for a moment?"
Inumaki glanced at you, a knowing and mischievous look on his face, "Sure. You know where it is." He replied. You thanked him before leading Megumi through the closed door and into the dimly lit room.
Once inside, Megumi quickly slammed the door, causing you to jump in surprise. "Gumi? Are you-" Before you could finish you found yourself trapped between his solid frame and the wooden door, his lips on yours as his hips began to grind against you.
You could feel he was already hard through his jeans. A gasp left your lower lip vulnerable to his teeth and you could have almost sworn that his incisors had somehow grown.
With the taste of blood now on your lips, Fushiguro moved to nip at your ear lobe, your neck, your collarbone, anything his mouth could easily reach. You had no idea what had gotten into him, how his actions almost felt predatory as he pawed at you through your costume.
"I'm going to devour you whole, Bunny," He hissed between bruising kisses. A threat that shot electricity down to your core and made your thighs press together helplessly. Your own instincts felt different, felt more timid and mild while a heat began to overwhelm you.
A half-hearted attempt to push him away left his hands attaching to your hips and fingers digging into the flesh there. His nails felt sharper and you soon realized they were cutting open the fabric of your leotard.
You felt something twitch on the top of your head, a curious sensation that had you reaching up to feel that the two bunny years you had worn were now a part of you. Fear, confusion, and terror all washed over you as you realized your boyfriend's ears had done the same. They had melded into his hair and were now pinned back with aggression.
"Gumi, something's wrong," You tried to tell him, your voice sounding higher than normal. "Our ears they're-"
"You can't escape, Bunny." He said, suddenly moving back. His black furry tail swished back and forth in quick, low sweeps. "I can smell it all over you. How wet you are right now. How much you need to be fucked. You can't hide it from me."
It was true. Your body was on fire and the fabric between your legs was soaked with arousal. Megumi's dark eyes were unfamiliar, maddened even. A small piece of you worried that he really would eat you.
You found yourself being forced onto Toge's bed, guilt wracking up as you knew you were about to ruin his pristine sheets. Fushiguro didn't seem to care, his reason was now lost deep inside his mind as he used his newly acquired claws to cut out the crotch of the leotard.
"Not even fucking wearing panties." He panted, sounding more like a canine as time passed. "What a dirty little slut I have."
"I'm not," You protested as you felt him rip open your tights to fully expose your vulva to him. He lifted your hips ups before his tongue dove into you, lapping and sucking at the juices that had collected along your sex.
You put a hand over your mouth to muffle your cry of surprise. His nose was pressed into your slit, inhaling deeply as if you commit the scent to memory. "Fuck you smell so goddamn good." He growled as he pulled away, his face now soaked with spit and slick.
You could hear him unbuckling his leather belt and pulling out his long cock which was now flushed pink at the tip. You moved your hand away from your mouth briefly, "Hurry, Wolfy." Your voice came out as a needy whine that only earned a rumble of approval from Megumi's chest.
"Hurry and do what, Bunny?" He asked as he spread his precum along his shaft. He was throbbing in his grip, ready to dive into you but needing to hear you beg for it first. "What does my little whore want?"
"Fuck me," You whimpered. The air in the room was stifling from the smell of pheromones, the heaviness of it increasing with the impending act of sex. "Please fuck me. I need it, I'm going crazy," You continued, wiggling your hips in an attempt to entice him.
Another growl left him and you finally felt his tip push past your folds before he roughly thrust into your core. You cried out, forgetting to muffle your voice as Megumi hunched over you much like a dog would, humping furiously as he held onto you tightly.
Deep and fast, you couldn't keep up with if he was in or out. His head kissed your cervix in a way that had you mewling beneath him. Megumi drank in your sounds, huffing wildly as he continued to snap his hips into you. The sounds of balls slapping and slick squelching filled the small bedroom. Had you been more coherent you'd be praying the music outside was loud enough to cover it.
Clawed fingers ran over your chest before finding their way between your legs, rubbing at your clit in rhythm with his thrusts. You practically bucked into his hand at the new sensation, his other hand now placed firmly over your mouth to keep you quiet.
While you had totally forgotten about the party outside, Megumi's now sharp hearing was picking up voices from outside the door asking what was going on. He could hear Toge laugh and mutter, "A little too much party punch."
The wall of pressure that had begun to build within your lower abdomen finally burst with orgasm. Sweet relief and ecstasy flooded coursed through your entire being, your ears now laying flat on your head as you twitched and jerked beneath the still-rutting wolf.
"Squeezing me so damn tight," You heard him mutter as he picked up the pace, abandoning your clit and ignoring the drool he felt against his hand from your mouth. "Fucked you stupid, Bunny?" He asked between pants, his balls tightening with the upcoming release.
You nodded your head pitifully, unable to form coherent thoughts as you still floated down from the intense orgasm. Without warning you felt his cock unload into you, filling you to the brim with white cum.
Fushiguro's movements slowed before stopping. He remained inside of you as he removed his hand from your mouth now that you had stopped moaning.
Clarity was starting to set in for the both of you. Megumi was scratching at his new ears, trying to figure out if they were real or not. He felt your plush tail against his bully button twitch and he snorted back a laugh at the ticklish sensation it gave him.
He finally pulled out and laid down next to you as you curled into his side affectionately. "What the hell was in that cocktail?" He muttered to himself.
You hummed back a response before lifting up and straddling his waist. Arousal was already weeding it's way back into you, pussy clenching at the need for his cock to be inside of you once more. "I don't know. But I like it."
A/N: ahahha once again the prompt kind of got away from me. Kinktober is now complete! I hope you enjoyed it <3 I may write a part two to this for Halloween next year :>
#fushiguro x y/n#fushiguro megumi#jujutsu kaisen megumi#jjk megumi#fushiguro x you#fushiguro x reader#megumi x you#megumi x y/n#jjk x you#jjk smut#fushiguro smut#megumi smut#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#megumi fushiguro#jjk fanfic#megumi scenarios#jjk imagines#fushiguro imagine#megumi imagine
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Can you do something for yandere quentin who's obsession is afraid to sleep at night so they'll come to awkwardly ask if they can sleep with him bc they're scared and tired from being pulled into more trials than usual? Love your blog btw and I hope you're taking care of yourself :)
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Thank you for liking my blog! And I’m lucky to inform that I’m doing well. 😊 So no worries on that part! I really like this idea, so I made it a short scenario at the very least.
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Quentin Smith
The survivor encampment was silent and still, the only sound coming from the occasional rustling of the leaves in the surrounding trees. Most of the survivors were huddled inside their tents, either trying to catch some sleep or preparing offerings for the trials that were sure to come. Quentin, however, had found a spot by a lonesome tree a little ways away from the center of the camp where he could read in peace. The bonfire's light didn't reach that far, but the Entity had provided unextinguishable torches that cast a warm glow over the area.
As he read, Quentin couldn't help but notice how thick the fog had become, obscuring even the eternal moon from view.
The Entity’s pleased.
Quentin bites the inside of his lip in anger and frustration.
The trials had been more frequent and intense lately, and the negative energy from the survivors was palpable. Some had even been forced to run trials back-to-back with no time to rest in between. Quentin knew the toll this took on the mind and body; it was an experience he wouldn't wish on his worst enemy. Let alone upon the person he currently loves most.
Just then, he saw a familiar figure approaching him.
You drew nearer and Quentin could see the fear and lack of sleep etched onto your face. He felt his jaw clench for but a second.
He put down his book and waited patiently as you gathered your thoughts after you’d stopped in front of him, looking more so at his hands than at his face.
"Quentin, I-I-," you began, hesitating. Quentin remained silent, sensing that you needed time to find the right words.
Finally, you took a deep breath and spoke. "Is it alright if I sleep by your side? I-I can't really sleep alone anymore. The nightmares have been getting worse since I've been forced to run more trials than usual." As mentioned before; you’re scared and tired, made prevalent by the deep bags that are hanging from below your lower eyelids and the low-spirited haze that’s casted over your eyes.
Quentin nodded, understanding all too well the toll that the trials could take on a person's mental health. You settle down against his side, and he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, offering comfort and support.
As you settled in for the night, you began to open up about your experiences with each and every trial you’ve had thus far. You spoke of how you noticed how your memories had been fragmented and distorted by the Entity's influence, with clear memories of pain and fear but hazy recollections of the details. You knew which killer had taken your life and how, but the memories were incomplete, as if snipped away with complete disregard.
"That's what scares me," you admitted. "I know we've been through so many trials, but it's like the Entity is wiping the slate relatively clean after every death. It's like we're not even supposed to remember what happened to us."
Quentin listened quietly, his grip on you tightening. He too had felt the effects of the Entity's power, the way it distorted reality and played with the survivors' minds. But he also knew that the survivors were stronger than the Entity gave them credit for. They had each other, and that was something the Entity couldn’t easily take away. Not as long as it wants to instill a certain kind of hope within them. This includes the two of you.
"It's okay to be scared," Quentin said softly. "But remember, you're not alone. You have me, and we're in this together. We'll get through it, no matter what."
You nodded a bit weakly and snuggle closer to Quentin before closing your eyes. Even still, he could feel that it was hard for you to fall asleep by the way you moved. His words weren't enough...
But when you finally did fall asleep, perhaps for the first time in a long time, he felt himself relax as well. In comparison, the warm glow of the torches provided a little comfort. Yet to him, you served as the reminder that even in the darkest mists, there was still even a bit of solace to be found. Even if it's just for a moment.
If only he could make it last forever instead...
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Comfort Call
look at me and my emotional support alliterations.
one-shot (655 words)
Pairing: Cody, Reader nature of relationship unclear, Cody just cares about Reader’s wellbeing
Genre: Fluff, Comfort no Hurt. Reader is in a funk and Cody gets them out of it.
The black screen of his datapad felt like a punch in the gut as Cody took off his helmet. It has been entirely too long since his penpal had last responded to his messages, and he knew if they disappeared like this, things were starting to get worse again.
It took a little trial and error but you found a way to break the radio-silence without building pressure.
He checked the status icon next to your name. You were online.
A black screen took over his display once again, yet this one seemed infinitely more hopeful, as it was a sign that you had picked up his call.
“No headphones.” appeared in the little chat-box.
There was a very faint rustling coming from your end of the call and Cody smiled, knowing you’d kept your mic on for his sake.
Then, another message: “Wait,” followed by the sound of your footsteps leaving the room.
Where, at first, he’d been a little confused, even slightly offended by your tendency to just get up and leave after the start of your calls, the explanation you’d offered endeared him to your antics. Not to mention your efforts to prepare for his usual calls beforehand now, even making a little game out of it and sending him obscure ‘getting ready’ messages before pressing the button. ‘one moment, I’m building my house.’, ‘sorry, I’m catching some wifi.’ or ‘gimme a sec, my datapad exploded’.The deviation of your usual routine only emphasized how out of it you had to feel.
Sounds of your reentering the room and placing something on your desk disrupted Cody’s worrying.
“Had to get water,” came your explanation. “And a donut.”
Then, your cam turned on.
Upon seeing your slightly disheveled form, he had to resist the instinct of asking about what troubled you. He learned the hard way that calm nonchalance was the way to go in these situations, and interrogating you would only result in you shutting him out completely. His goal was to get you to stop thinking about Whatever It Is and disrupt your thought spiral, hence the unannounced video call.
“Have you been reading?” He typed back, purposely giving you a chance to fill him in on the details of your day or ignore the elephant in the room and go on about your favourite hobby.
As usual, you chose the latter. “Yeah, I’m still trying to get through this book. I calculated how many pages I have to read every day so I can get through it before I have to return it.”
Of course you did.
“The collected stories one?”
“Mhm,” you nodded your head while typing, making Cody smile once again. “70 pages for 20 days.”
“And how many pages are you behind now?”
At least he was decent enough to hide his smile behind a hand as he asked this.
You glared at him anyhow.
His smile just got wider.
“~130.”
“That’s almost two days!”
“I AM AWARE!!!!!” You were tempted to turn off your camera so he wouldn’t see you pout. “I went to the garden center yesterday so I didn’t have time. And the first couple stories were suuuuuper boring.”
“But it got better?”
“It did. And it’s interesting because I can see where others have been influenced by these themes and stories so it’s cool to go backwards like this. Makes the other stories more interesting, too.”
As your rambling got more animated, your fingers soon weren’t able to keep up with your thoughts anymore, and the sounds of your frantic typing was replaced by your voice.
It would have been foolish to point it out, but Cody knew that this was the point where you’d successfully gotten out of whatever mood had had a hold on you earlier. And with the mood of the conversation between you entering all-too familiar territory again, he reveled in pride over your shared victory.
#this is very much a self comfort thing and that's okay#been having a ruff week#commander cody x reader#tcw x reader#tcw cody x reader
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stranglehold
or: no air? no problem.
gn!reader, standard imperium weirdness, president lasko can absolutely get it. no mentions of choking, although freelancer is told to “hold it”, so take that as you will. freelancer's body is not described in any detail, so please feel free to imagine them however you like! as usual, all my love to the inhabitants of the incubi channel on discord, for whom this was written very quickly, with great love and even greater... urgency, shall we say - as such, please excuse its brevity. lasko entertaining a very special guest in 800 words or less.
please be aware that there is an inherent power imbalance between lasko and freelancer in this fic (academy president and student), and as such the events of this fic may be interpreted as non-consensual. you are very welcome to skip this fic if that isn't your cup of tea, and i encourage you to please stop reading at any point if you feel uncomfortable.
this fic contains explicit content. 18+ only. minors please do not interact. thank you. reader discretion is heavily advised.
Considering how big this office is, there’s not actually a huge amount of room under this desk.
“Catch your breath for a second, my dear. Now, that’s - mmm, that’s it, down you go…”
(Although, to be honest, you’re a little preoccupied with something else right now.)
You’ll admit it - whenever you come in here, your focus tends to be drawn immediately to President Moore. It’s only natural, after all. He’s powerful, charismatic, intelligent, handsome, a tad eccentric when the mood takes him, and everything he does is meticulously designed to make you remember that. Everyone’s the same, regardless of need or station, when it comes to President Moore and his strange, inescapable gravity.
In this room, you’re always focused on President Moore. Right now, you’re extremely focused on the way his cock feels in your mouth as you flick your tongue and swallow around the shaft.
His hand is heavy on the back of your head, the other tapping away at his keyboard while he adjusts some document or another, and if it weren’t for the way you can feel his hips jerking ever so slightly whenever you moan around him, you could almost believe that there was nothing going on at all. To the rest of the world it’s a secret, but you know better. Monday afternoons are always fun in Lasko Moore’s office.
“Deeper, darling. You remember what we said last time, don’t you, hmm? About th- ohh…”
Your jaw aches as he pulls you closer, cock pressing even further down your throat until you’re practically face-first in his lap, thick saliva soaking into the fabric of his dress slacks. You’ve been at this for a while, coming straight here from your last lecture and dropping your bag by the door when he let you in, letting him lead you under his desk and onto your knees in a matter of minutes. What can you say? He likes to take his time with you.
(You’re technically supposed to be in class right now, but a few strings had been pulled and you were mysteriously moved to the other seminar group that runs tomorrow instead. It’s not your fault that President Moore wanted to set some time aside to personally tutor you, and it’s not something you’re going to complain about. After all, he does exactly what he promises. You’d say that his tutoring is very personal, indeed.)
“Just a little more, just- hold it, hold it!”
Above your head, you hear the clatter of his glasses as he pulls them off his face and drops them on the desk, head falling back just a touch and Adam’s apple shifting under the skin as his eyes flutter closed for a moment. His foot tips upwards, leather pressing more insistently between your legs, and you moan your gratitude into his lap as the laces of his dress shoe rub just right against you. The hand on your head tightens, and he hinges forward slightly over your head as he moans, filling your mouth with the familiar taste of his cum. You don’t move, just letting him use your mouth while he comes back down, and you’re rewarded by his pleased smile when his eyes finally open. Gently, he guides your head away, thumbing over your bottom lip in satisfaction.
“Swallow,” he commands, breath a bit faster than usual, so you do, sticking out your tongue with a proud smile when he taps your cheek. He likes to make sure that you do what he asks. “Very good.” One perfect eyebrow raises, gaze trailing casually down your body, and it’s so difficult not to squirm under the burning spotlight of his attention. He doesn’t look at you like a toy, or an object, or a plaything. He doesn’t need to. You know as well as he does that it’s true. You’re his, in this room most of all, his most treasured little darling that prefers the taste of his kiss to any wine he gives you, that craves the glow of his adoration as much as the sting of his disapproval, that knows every curve and line and swirl in the wood of his desk where he bends you over it. In Lasko’s eyes, you are no mere toy. In Lasko’s eyes, you have always been his prize.
“You know what to do, my dear.”
“Yes, sir.” He’s right. You do know.
The sound of rustling fabric, elastic snapping against the skin as you hurry to slide your underwear down your legs, and President Moore finally turns his attention to the other side of the desk.
“Now then, Huxley. What was it that you wanted to speak to me about, exactly?”
masterlist
this is an original work by @gingerbreadmonsters - please do not repost or misattribute
#redacted asmr#redacted audio#redacted smut#redacted lasko#redacted imperium#ginger writes#ginger after dark#gingerbreadmonsters
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TC!JK
“w-well it wasn’t the only thing” you mumble. “never mind” and even though jungkook calls out for you, you don’t bother turning around to go back to him. that night you contemplate drinking the poison but you don’t.
the next day is bright and beautiful, it is the day of your wedding and although it should be the best day of your life, to you, it’s rather gloomy. while the maids are adorning your hair in flowers and curls, you don’t bother to even pretend that you’re happy. not like anyone cares anyway.
your hanbok is handmade by someone close to the king and is made with the richest silk of the land. it is rather beautiful and your hair compliments the traditional clothing, enhancing your pretty features. but you don’t really care.
the wedding is simple yet beautiful. you both wed under a blossoming tree and while you’re bored out of your mind, the king is enjoying every second of it. everything is done without your say so, it was as if you weren’t right there when they read your vows. it was all rhetorical because you never had a choice anyways.
you also don’t kiss jungkook at all. not even bothering to look in his direction, locks eyes with him, or anything. you didn’t want to be there and you weren’t gonna pretend you wanted to either.
“honor to the king or goryeo” says a man you’re not familiar with. “your wife is awfully beautiful and very quiet? where is she from?” he asks while taking in every detail of your face. his eyes linger on your lips a little to long to jungkook’s liking and he notices it immediately.
“none of my business? oh ho ho” the man smirks “who would have thought you’d be so interested in peasants. it’s illegal to wed outside of royal blood. breaking the rules again i see. and for a girl who clearly isn’t into you”
“she’s better off with me. wouldn’t you agree, “queen” y/n” he says, taking your hand to press his lips gently against the back of your palm.
~🫧
Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek out of jealousy. He really doesn’t want to kill someone on his wedding day and trigger you even more but this man is really asking for it.
Once he takes your hand to kiss it, your husband is very quick to take it back, harshly he doesn’t realize it, but he catches you off guard.
“do you have a death wish?” he whispers to the guy, his eyes glaring at that man and he doesn’t realize it, but his hold is tightening over your
The man, gulps and bows his head and leaves and Jungkook smirks while focusing his attention back on you. And do you look radiant.
You are the most beautiful bride in the history of goryeo.
He’s not sure if someone can be, and how can he be angry at that man because you are so beautiful that anyone would be attracted towards you.
He has to make sure that no one can have you.
And now he has because you’re his wife. And now he has you forever.
“my love would you like to eat something or should we retire to our chamber?”
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Amanda’s Missing Piece: A Saw Fanfiction
Chapter 8: Just An Observation
“Watch your step.” Amanda warned, as she let Adam and herself into her apartment.
The place, although fairly cluttered, was definitely in better shape than his…...then again, whose place wasn’t?
The bar was pretty much below the ground, as far as he was concerned.
“It’s alright, I’m used to it.” He chuckled, browsing around the general area, as she shut and locked the door behind them.
“It’s not, really, but thanks anyway.” She insisted
Adam just chuckled even more at the idea that anyone could actually feel the need to excuse a place like this, after seeing a place like his, even if she did…...to his knowledge, anyway, only see a quarter of his apartment, and only very briefly at that.
“Are you kidding me?” He laughed. “Didn’t you see my place? You’d think I’ve never had anyone over.”
He followed her back, toward her kitchen area, where she paused her little tour to set some stuff down on the dining room table and start skimming through her cupboards for something.
In doing so, he immediately became sidetracked, when he noticed a familiar little piece of paper laying near the middle of it.
It looked a little more worse for wear, for sure, likely having spent some time folded up in Amanda’s pocket or bag for who knows how long, but the name and details for his buddy’s show, the very one that he had originally tried to invite her to, could still clearly be read.
He smiled to himself, staring down at the flyer while Amanda did her own thing in the kitchen, before peering up from it.
“Hey, what does Roxy like to eat?” She called out to him. “.......Adam!”
She called out to him again, still waiting for an answer.
“Huh?” He finally responded.
“Roxy.” She repeated, coming back out to where he was. “....what kind of food…”
She smiled back at him when she saw how his face seemed to have lit up, upon noticing she still had the flyer. “.......what kind of food do you usually feed Roxy?”
“Hmm? Oh.” He chuckled, sort of embarrassed-like. “I actually have no idea.”
“What?” She laughed.
“Yeah, my uh…” He started to explain. “..one of my neighbors was generous enough to pour something out from their dog’s food, for me to keep on hand for her.” His face lit up at the recollection of it, and her. “Like I said, I’m not exactly the only one around there, she's got wrapped around her little paw.”
“Well, from the looks of it, you were at least her favorite.”
“Well, no. I’m pretty sure that’s you, from what I saw.” He pointed out. “...anyway, why do you ask?”
She smiled at the claim, opting to let him have his little win rather than argue it, as she offered him a small, rolled up bag of kibble she’d found left in one of her cupboards.
“My last roommate had a dog, just a little bigger than her.” She shrugged. “..guess she didn't take everything with her.”
He opened the bag and smiled a little more, as he gave it a quick skim over.
“Well, she’s definitely not picky. I can tell you that much. I think it’ll do.” He chuckled. “Thanks.”
“Well, I just remembered you mentioned you didn’t like the idea of her being outside all night, so that’s assuming you think we can catch her, of course.”
“It’s definitely worth a shot.” He agreed, smirking a little, as he glanced back down towards where he’d set the flyer to take the bag from here. “...so, what’d you think?”
“Your call. If you think we can, and bring her in for the night.” She shrugged, turning back to grab something from the fridge, thinking he was still talking about the dog.
“I’m grabbing something to drink, you want anything?”
“I’m okay, thanks.” He laughed, sensing he might be about to call her on a bluff. “...and I meant about the band.”
“What about it?”
“Ohh, so that’s not why you kept the flyer, then?” A little smirk crept back across his face. “...interesting..”
She shot him her own little amused look, one that was expressing just a little more amusement than she’d intended to let on, before rolling her eyes. “What? Would you rather I have thrown it away?”
“No, no.” He assured, that same little smirk not leaving his face. “....just an observation..”
“Mmhmm…” She smirked back, her tone clearly conveying just how unconvinced she was. “...an observation, huh?”
“An interesting one.” He corrected.
“Right, then, smartass…” She teased, glancing out her kitchen window. “It’ll be dark in a couple hours or so, you wanna go try our luck with that now?”
“Like I said, it’s worth a shot.” He chuckled. “I usually bring her a couple little slices of ham, as a little treat, when I can.”
“I see…” She returned back to the fridge to scope it out a little more, before comin back with some roast beef slices. “Will she settle for some roast beef?”
“She’ll love it.” He assured her, as he took it and slid it into the kibble bag, as they headed back for the door. “...am I driving this time? Or you?”
“Very funny.” She teased back, watching him, as she let him go out ahead of her.
“I thought so.”
She grinned a little, to herself, over him as she shut the door behind the two of them.
It didn’t matter in the least to her, how much time she spent with him.
Seeing this side of him, the side that had caught her completely off guard and which she completely adored while she was watching him before, was never going to get old
“You coming?” He called back to her when he noticed she hadn’t caught up with him yet.
“Right behind you.” She chuckled.
#fanfiction#adam/amanda#adamanda#adam faulkner stanheight#adam faulkner-stanheight lives#amanda young#amanda young lives#horror#slow burn#romance#bisexual adam#bisexual amanda#saw 2004
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Order Up!
Date Night is here!
From 2-1-23 to 2-14-23 my ask box is functioning as a date generator! (If I get overwhelmed I'll temporarily close my ask box while I catch up)
All you have to do is bring yourself (whatever you may be AFAB, AMAB, F!, M! or any combination therein as long as I can reasonably guess what kind of clothes you wear and pronouns you use) and at least one character of your choice. (And what fandom they’re of, naturally, just to make sure the right person shows up!)
For details about yourself, feel free to add small physical descriptors and personality if you’d like a little mention of them. Eye, hair, skin color, hair type, height, and body type are fine! It doesn’t have to be a massive block of text (for the sake of your hands while typing, I wouldn’t recommend it either). And for personality, you can include anything that you feel would be relevant to the situation. If you tend to crack jokes when you’re nervous or have a hard time keeping eye contact, throw that bad boy in there!
Who can you date? Any character that is canonically 18 or older and fictional! And please, no lolis or shotacons, I don't care if they're technically 5,000 years old if they're still built like a grade schooler.
If I’ve written for you, specifically for your OC before now, you may ‘bring’ them to the date instead of yourself. This is just because I’m already familiar with them and there won’t be any misunderstandings about said character that you’ve created. If I’ve written for you before and it was a reader insert you can simply call back to that as long as you’re not anonymous.
Then you must simply grab one of each ‘treat’ and enjoy your date! Alcoholic drinks and shots are explicitly NSFW and so their responses will be marked as such (so if you’re underage and asking anyway you likely won’t get to see the response).
I will fulfill the asks as I am able, so please do be patient! I figured I’d try something a bit new and zesty this time!
Chocolate – Where?
Toffee – at home
Caramel – Fancy restaurant
Cream – holiday/work-ish function
Nuts – Casual dinner
Cherry cordial – Movie date
Hard Candy – Relationship?
Lollipop – Total strangers
Candy Cane – Brief fling
Lemon Drops – Casual Friends
Konpeito (Japanese star candy) – Childhood friends
Mints – Blind date
Pop Rocks - Arranged marriage (Watermelon for engaged and Strawberry for Married)
Soft Candy – Reception?
Gummy worms – Nervous nerds
Gummy bears – Confident and loving the energy
Candy corn – Enemies to lovers speed run
Fruit Roll – Love at first sight
Cotton Candy – Sweet from the start
Drink – How does it go?
Soda – The start of a very interesting relationship!
Water – Eesh! Maybe we got off on the wrong foot? (With Lemon for sour end and with Strawberries for sweet end)
Alcohol* - In the bedroom!
NSFW +18 ONLY
*Alcoholic shots – Kinks! Phrase it as “Shot of X for (character A)” for them to receive it specifically. There isn't a limit for shots but keep it reasonable lol, I'm probably not going to write 10K on one date ask because you asked for everything and the kitchen sink.
White Russian – Creampie/Cum play
Hot Damn – Praise kink
Mind Eraser – Degradation
Afterburner – Choking/breathplay
Jell-o shot – Edging
Pineapple Upside Down Cake – Oral
Alice in Wonderland – Size Kink
Motor Oil – Marking
Kamikaze – Temperature play (Served hot or cold for temp preferences)
Jager Bomb – Rough Sex (Extra strong is hate sex)
Green Tea shot – Soft Sex
Pink Schnapps – Dom/Sub (The person receiving this shot will be designated the ‘Sub’)
Black Jack – Restraints
Brain Hemorrhage - Overstimulation
Warning! Some shots may interact in unexpected ways! Keep this in mind when ordering! Especially if you have squicks that may arise in the mixed combination!
Woah! An Extra special treat category! (Entirely Optional!)
Mochi Ice Cream – Yandere
Vanilla – Obsessive
Red bean – Possessive
Grean tea – Delusional
Strawberry – Protective
Coffee – Manipulative
So, in theory, what would an order look like? (Using one of each category)
“Hi! I’d like a chocolate cream, candy corn, and a soda with a shot of Mind Eraser, extra strong Jager Bomb, and Afterburner for myself with Aizawa from MHA. I’m M!AFAB with brown hair and eyes, pale skin, with a tongue piercing and a preference towards masculine clothing! I like to go by "Sky". I also have a tendency to not know when to shut up and like teasing people in a fight. If it’s alright, I’d also like him to have a red bean mochi.”
It doesn’t have to be exactly like this, or even in this order specifically, so long as it’s clear what you want included. If you have a squick that’s reasonably associated with one of the items you ordered, feel free to ask me to ‘hold’ that aspect. For example, with a chocolate cream (work function date), if you feel really uncomfortable with boss/subordinate dynamics, you can let me know! For an NSFW example, you could ask me to ‘hold the White Russian’ for it to basically be safe sex.
Remember, once it's in my ask box, the ball is in my court! So be polite, patient, and bear in mind that I'm ONLY working with what is in the singular ask! I'm unaware of a character limit for asks, but try to keep it in one so I can easily sort through them if need be or make it VERY clear that it's yours across multiple asks if you're asking anonymously!
Hope you all enjoy the event!
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hi, i'm asta! i'm 20, and i'm looking for new rp partners on discord 🤗 please understand i will only rp with those 18+ and that while i'm happy to write rapidfire threads, i can't do them constantly. weekend evenings (i'm est) are your best bet to catch me available for a quick back-and-forth! otherwise, i try to be patient with replies. around the second week mark is when i typically check in about outstanding responses, but it really is just a check up! no pressure, and if you'd like, you can 100% negotiate a different method/schedule with which to touch base. if we're already communicating ooc, i likely won't even feel the need to do so. please be similarly patient with me. i'm a literate writer too! i'm most comfy in the 5 paragraph range, but i'll follow my partner's lead on length.
that all being said, i don't have a specific plot in mind. i don't require doubling up either, so take this as your chance to pitch that one plot you've been dying to write without any strings attached! i'm very open to brainstorming smth together as well! i don't rp canon characters, but if i'm familiar with the fandom or the relevant details are easily searchable, i'm happy to rp in a canon setting. protip: anything soulbond/soulmate or found family related will get me on board IMMEDIATELY lmao
i looove going bonkers over our little brain children so expect lots of enthusiastic plotting and commentary! pinterest boards, playlists, you name it! i'm always open to chatting ooc as well if you'd like a new friend ❤️❤️
thanks for reading~ like this if interested, and i'll im you!
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Can i request love language hcs for savanaclaw? (Btw i cannot find ur rules and the link doesnt work for some reason.. probably just me so if im breaking any rules here just ignore me lol)
You're fine, hun! By now, I should have the post with all my rules and other things out in the open. -Shopkeep
Love Language Headcanons with the Savanaclaw Dorm
Leona strikes me as the kind of man who shows his love through quality time and physical touch. He’s a man who doesn’t like big show-y declarations of affection, he shows it through subtle means. Honestly, you wouldn’t even register his actions until it hits you one day like, “Oh, he love-loves me.”
Leona doesn’t let anyone interrupt his daily naps unless it’s Ruggie coming to nag him. So the fact that you can waltz on in and literally poke at the sleeping lion says a lot. You could twiddle with his hair, poke and knead his arms, pet his tail/ears, and he’ll just take it. The most he’ll do is make the typical annoyed growl and snide comment, but does he actually push you off? Nope.
The days that he feels the most relaxed is when you’re there, talking idly about your day. He just hums along to whatever you wanna share before he nods off to sleep. Surprisingly, even if you think he forgot what you said, he remembers everything to the last detail.
If someone tries to drag you away from him, thinking that you’re not doing anything because Leona’s only lazing around, he’ll suddenly get hostile. He’ll hiss loudly at whoever’s stealing you away. The herbivore is obviously busy with him right now, go away!
Fully expect Leona to start using you as his personal heated pillow. Sometimes he’ll even crawl on top of you and sprawl out like a lazy cat, keeping you pinned under his weight. It’s one of his tactics to keep you from leaving him.
More on physical touch, he absolutely would rub his head all over you to leave his scent. It comes off as him being a teasing annoyance like, “Ah, I’m sleepy… Lemme use you as a pillow right now,” and you’re scolding him to stop nuzzling you all of a sudden. Meanwhile every Beastman within a 50 ft radius is keeping a fair distance from the lion’s beloved.
Ruggie, our playful little hyena, is a man of giving gifts and doing acts of service for you whenever he shows his love.
You’d think that he’d be exhausted enough having to deal with Leona’s business, but if he ever catches you struggling or needing something, he’s scampering off to you. He’s here to swoop in and be your lil helper!
If you’re someone who insists that you’re fine working by yourself, he wouldn’t be above using his Unique Magic to force you to sit back and relax. Let him handle all the tough stuff! But remember, you have to promise to praise him lots after he finishes the work! Please give him many pats, kisses and cheek rubs. He’s all smiles and tail wagging at your rewarded affection.
Ruggie, as you all know, is a very greedy hyena. Whatever he nabs, he keeps it for himself. Especially food. Survival of the fittest and all that. However, with you, doesn’t feel the anxiety to guard his valuables.
If anything, he wants to share his spoils with you, just to see you happy over what he can provide. He never does this with anyone else so this is an obvious sign of great affection.
I can see him being cheeky about it though. He hand feeds you with his familiar grin and would do it infront of other students to one part tease you and the other part to rub it in other people’s faces that he’s being lovey-dovey. If you act cute about it and happily eat from his hand, it is the most sickeningly sweet sight that is sure to annoy. Especially Leona. If you’re shy about it, he’ll get pouty and very whiny.
Tries to look like a kicked puppy if you don’t let him feed you. Eventually you have to relent or else he’s gonna act all mopey the whole day to guilt you. In a way, it’s kind of a thing he chases after, the feeling of what it’s like to provide for someone he loves. Maybe one day when he’s strong enough to support you and himself, he can always shower you with wonderful things.
Jack does acts of service and spends quality time with his beloved to show his love!
Jack is obviously a man of few words, much less socialization, so when it comes to the act of romance, he can be a bit– shaky with it. Though he doesn’t say it through flowery words, his devotion is clear through his actions.
He tries to uphold this image of a lone wolf in his mind but when it comes to you, that notion vanishes in an instant. He doesn’t even realize it! The big tough wolf unconsciously wants to seek you out and follow you like a lost pup. Maybe he tries to make the excuse that you could get lost or has to protect you if any bullies try to bother you.
But everyone and their mothers’ know the truth. The guy has such a weakness to you and wants to be at your side 24/7. The times that you do have to separate, his disappointment is palpable. Ears droop, tail sags, even his eyes go a little downcast. Jack tries to act like it’s nothing but there’s always a little voice in his head that says, “I miss my partner…”
Jack: stares out window stoically, waiting for his baby to come back
Acts of service time! You know Jack is willing to literally run miles for you if you need help. Like I can perfectly imagine you’re out stuck somewhere with no transportation and someone to grab Jack by the tail before he runs off immediately to carry you in his arms back home.
Besides physical things, he does sweet and very thoughtful little things too. Like, sliding more food on your plate, there’s an extra water bottle for you during P.E., or he offers his jacket if you’re cold.
If you make comments or show affection for all the things he does for you, he tries to deny it, saying he just doesn’t want to see you lag behind. But the way his tail is wagging and how red his face is says otherwise.
#lovelygrimoire#twisted wonderland imagine#twisted wonderland headcanons#twisted wonderland x reader#twst images#twst headcanons#twst x reader#leona kingscholar#ruggie bucchi#jack howl#leona kingscholar x reader#ruggie bucchi x reader#jack howl x reader
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late nights | bang chan
part one of my “stray kids will you be my valentine series”
pairing- gn reader x bang chan
genre-fluff!
tags- @dreamescapeswriting
it was a sunday yet you couldn’t relax. when could you ever? working all day long and thinking about what to work on the next day was a part of your personality by now. you sighed, feeling the exhaustion in your bones. cracking your sore muscles, you got up to head to the library once again.
it wasn’t too late- just a little before midnight and the student librarians who had night shifts knew you well. you could easily spend your sleepless nights there.
well, the refusal of sleeps arrival was not the only reason for you to head there. maybe you were heading over to sneak a glance at the adorable music major who often spent his nights there looking for lyrical inspiration.
making sure your hair looked okay after a long day of catching up on your lectures, you sprayed on a little perfume and walked out of your dorm. your roommate was away on a two day trip with her boyfriend. you were very jealous, oh how you envied her beautiful love life but you were happy that at least one of you was not spending their valentines all alone and staring at their one sided crush at midnight.
you sent a small wave back as lee minho - the student librarian who worked most often, sent you a two fingered salute. you didn’t miss the way his eyes narrowed slightly and his eyebrows wiggled. you rolled your eyes at him, it wasn’t helpful that he was one of chan’s closest friends and a good one of yours too.
you happily headed to the inside tables, feet feeling light as you turned the corner- expecting to see a familiar head of blond hair….you stopped. the smile on your lips faltering ever so lightly you took in the empty room.
on any other day, the room would’ve been attest half filled with students but who would study on a sunday night? the night before valentine’s day at that?
it was then that you realised with a small painful jolt, chan was also one of those people.
he probably had a date or was away on one of those lovers trip, you knew he was single, you two were close enough to know that about each other but it was awfully possible for him to have a crush or someone he wanted to ask out. you were not close enough to know this about him. you assumed he had someone in mind judging by the way he’d asked you to recommend the best romances you’d read, the way he’d asked for some romantic tropes. he told you it was for a song he was writing and he need to tap into the details for the lyrics.
he was probably going to confess with a song- ah that lucky person.
with a sad pout, you turned to head to your usual seat, which was not too far art from chan’s regular place.
maybe he’s just late? maybe i am overthinking this?
it was a quarter to midnight and you decided to wait. maybe he’ll be here soon. he’d asked for you to be ready with a good romance novel today- your favourite one- the clockwork princess by cassandra clare. it wasnt a pure romance novel but it did have a really tragic yet beautiful love story.
ten minutes, fifteen minutes.
it was midnight and chan was not here. you could feel a sad cloud building up as you tried to not feel too affected by this.
god, i should not have gotten my hopes up.
you frowned, collecting your things when your name had you stop and your turned slowly.
“chan?”
you mumbled, lips open in surprise.
there he stood, with his messy blond hair covering half of his eyes. his warm body covered by a light pink hoodie, the front left side tucked into his loose jeans that landed on his white sneakers. “y/n” he repeated once more, dimples deepening as his smile widened and you could only stare at him as he walked to you.
“hi.” you mumbled, slightly breathless from how good he looked.
“happy valentines day.” he whispered, stopping inches before you as he brought his hands to the front making you see the chocolate, flowers and a book in his hand.
“what-“ you spluttered, unable to comprehend what was happening. “for who-“
he chuckled at your behaviour, leading the gifts to your hand. “for you, y/n.” he emphasised before he quickly turned back and motioned to someone.
lee minho walked in with a cheshire like grin on his face and you wanted to smack that perfect face of his.
he handed chan a guitar and nodded as if to say good luck to him and slipped back out of the room.
your heartbeat quickned, cheeks as hot as warm steel on a sunny day as chan motion for you to sit down and open the book.
you did, eyes not leaving his as he set his guitar and then he began. your eyes ran over the words he’d written on the first page of the special edition- clock work princess.
“On a springlike summer day
I engrave your name in my heart for the first time
After counting how much I love you
As many as the countless stars in the sky
That are unable to be concealed
Because I hold each and all of these pieces
Deep inside my heart
I can endure by looking at you
I will never make you lonely
You'll always be beside me
I'll cherish this happiness you gave me
I will never make you lonely
I will walk with you at your pace
'Cause I
like you, hey, hey
like you, hey, hey
like you, hey, hey
like you.”
when he stopped, you could feel tiny tears at the corner of your eyes and you had to swallow to prevent yourself from crying. he’d written a song for you.
all his romance recommendations and questions suddenly made sense. he had not only written a song for you, he’d made it perfectly tailored to your taste. he’d gone as far as recreating your favourite confession scene from your favourite book.
chan bit his lip, looking down shyly as he giggled. “y/n.” he mumbled and your name on his lips had never sounded so beautiful. he set his guitar down, getting up to come to you.
“yes chan-.” you whispered, your vision blurring by the second.
“will you be my valentine?” he questioned, now near you, he took your hands. his skin was warm, and it sent tingles all over your body.
“yes.” you answered breathlessly and he smiled his shy smile one last time as he closed the distance between you two with a soft kiss.
—-
a/n- my valentines day is so sad i can pity myself. BUT THIS MADE ME SMILE.
also this came out earlyyyyy yay!!
#chan x you#fanfiction#chan scenarios#skz x reader#stray kids#straykids fanfic#chan oneshot#chan x reader#chan fluff#chan scenario#skz oneshot#skz imagine#skz fanfiction#skz fluff#bang chan#bang chan x reader#bang chan fluff#bangchan scenario
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Delos and Austen
Pairing: Logan Delos x Fem!Reader
Summary: Logan Delos is the CEO of Westworld, you are the co-head of Narrative, and have been friends with Logan for nearly two years. He decides you’re in need of a break, and invites you on a trip to Westworld.
Warnings [18+]: unprotected sex, little bit of praise kink, a smidge of exhibition kink (but not really?), language, violence, background character death (not detailed).
A/N: I’ve nearly finished the first season of Westworld, so this is very much an AU based loosely on the first season because I’m slightly obsessed with Logan. Anyway, hope you enjoy it.
Word Count: 6.9K
My Masterlist
“Austen!” You lift your eyes from your phone at the sound of a familiar voice and nickname. “Hold the doors, would you?” You nudge your foot between the doors of the elevator, and they slide open. Logan gives you a wide smile in thanks as he stands beside you. You press the button for his floor and try not to look too hard at him. He’s dressed in his usual blue suit, with a white button down and a thin black tie. Every inch the dashing CEO. His bronzed skin makes the white of his shirt seem crisper. You force yourself to stop admiring him. There’s a ridiculous number of floors until the elevator will reach your floor, and you won’t be able to bare his teasing if he catches you.
“Enjoy your holiday?” He gives you the side eye with a smirk as his hands slide into his pockets.
“I think you know the answer to that.” An answering smirk tugs at your lips.
“You earned me a lot of money last week.” His eyes narrow slightly,
“You and your colleagues don’t bet on the real guests, do you?” You shake your head with a small smile.
“Just you.”
“Well, I hope you liked what you saw.” You roll your eyes, but warmth blooms over your cheeks as you remember exactly what Logan spent his week doing. One of his typical visits to Westworld. “You miss me?” He teases, and you’re tempted to roll your eyes again.
“Not at all. I’ve actually managed to get some work done without you pestering me.” He grins, shaking his head at you.
“Austen, I swear I’ve never met a workaholic quite as bad as you are.” There it is again. Logan’s nickname for you. When you’d first met he hadn’t bothered to remember your name - simply referring to you as the writer. You’d snapped at him eventually, declaring that you had a name, to which he’d snarked back at you, calling you little miss Shakespeare. From then onwards he’d called you about every author he could think of. Austen is one of the few that’s stuck around as the two of you finally became friends. “When’s the last time you had any fun?”
“My work is fun.” You argue. He quirks a brow at you, a small chuckle in his remark,
“Sure thing.” You shrug lightly,
“You seemed to enjoy it.” Puzzlement fills his dark eyes, and you smile casually. “The hosts are only capable of about thirty percent improv. The rest is all pre-written responses stored in their word bank. The improv algorithm then selects the most appropriate response.”
“If that’s how you’re planning on convincing me that your work is fun, you better keep trying.” Your smile widens into something that sparks Logan’s interest. There’s mischief in your eyes as he waits for your reply.
“All those dirty little whispers you seemed to enjoy so much? They were all from me.” You see the realisation dawning in his eyes, as he thinks back to his time in the park. “Just something to think about during your next visit.” You say softly, accompanied by the chime of the elevator arriving at your floor. “Have a nice day, Mr Delos.” Your heart is hammering in your chest as you step out into your corridor - and Logan Delos is still speechless. Something you didn’t think was possible.
You’re halfway down the corridor when you realise you haven’t heard the elevator doors shut. Against your better judgement, you glance back. Logan’s eyes meet yours, filled with an expression that has a shiver running down your spine.
»»---------------------►
You don’t see Logan for a while after that, the two of you are busy in your respective roles for the business. So you had almost forgotten your interaction in the elevator when Logan came to your office.
“You’ve never been to Westworld.” He states, walking towards you and lounging in one of the seats in front of your desk.
“Hello to you too Logan.” You lift your eyes from your screen to find him studying the contents of your office - as if he isn’t in here regularly.
“I checked the records, you’ve never used your employee discount.”
“Well perhaps some of us spend our holidays in the real world.” He scoffs,
“And you enjoy that?” You shoot him an offended look.
“What is it with you and attacking my personal life?” He ignores your question,
“What’re you doing this weekend?”
“Avoiding you.” A smirk tugs at his lips,
“Not any more. We’re going to Westworld.”
“Logan-“
“You got something better to do?” He raises a brow at you, and you hold his gaze for a long moment before you sigh,
“No.”
“Great.” He stands up with an eager smile on his face, doing up the button on his blazer. “I’m getting the night train, but I’ll meet you at the station. I expect you to be there bright and early tomorrow morning.”
“I don’t have a say in this do I?” You say with sigh as he strolls over to the door.
“Course you do.” He says with a wink, and then he’s gone.
»»---------------------►
You can’t quite believe that Logan has dragged you into this - is the thought that you’re trying to make the truth. When in fact, you’ve always wanted to visit Westworld, and the fact that you would never really be able to turn him down. You spot the dark cowboy almost instantly. Logan flashes you a wide smile as he sees you through the window of the train carriage. He watches you as you make your way off the train, battered trunk in hand.
“What’s with the luggage, Austen?”
“Outfit change.” He raises a brow at you.
“And they say I’m vain.” You narrow your eyes at him.
“Forgive me for not wanting to wear petticoats for our entire trip.” Logan perks up at the mention of petticoats. He looks you up and down. He has to admit, you make a pretty fine cowboy. You’d picked out some dark trousers, a deep brown waistcoat, and white shirt. The boots give you a little extra height, and your dark jacket flares with the warm breeze. His smile is wide as he admires you, and he reaches out to tap his knuckle against the brim of your hat.
“A black hat, huh?” You shrug with a smirk.
“It’s a nightmare to get the dust off a white hat.”
“Yeah, that’s the reason.” He tugs at the handle of your case, and you let him take it despite the frown on your face. “What?” He asks, taking note of your expression.
“I thought Westworld brought out the worst in people. Turns out it makes you a gentleman.”
“Fuck off.” You laugh, and Logan grins at you. The two of you begin to head down the street, and he nods towards the centre of town. “I got us a room at the Silver Dollar.” Logan knows Westworld like the back of his hand, and you helped create half of the storylines surrounding you, so the two of you are quite at home. Logan takes your trunk up to your room, while you wait in the foyer of the saloon. The Silver Dollar is in a quieter part of town, if there’s such a thing as quiet in Westworld.
The two of you make your way to the centre of Sweetwater, stopping in the most popular saloon - the Mariposa. Logan turns to look at you, grinning, before he swings the saloon doors open, and you follow him inside. A lively tune plays out from the pianola, and the sound of drinking and laughter fills the room. There’s a few other guests, but for the most part you’re surrounded by hosts. The two of you stand at the empty bar, and Logan leans towards you,
“You got your eye on someone?” You pull your gaze from a girl across the room. Your head tilted to one side, you give him a once over. Once your eyes meet his you smirk,
“Maybe.” You counter in a flirty tone. He grins, loving the chance to see this new side of you. You gesture to the bartender, and he pours you two drinks. “So what now?” You ask, looking at Logan. He shakes his head,
“Today’s all on you.” You pull on your lower lip with your teeth as you think, not noticing Logan’s gaze fixate on the soft plush of your lips. His eyes lift back up quickly as your mouth curls into a smirk.
“I happen to know where a gang of smugglers are hiding out. Fancy some shooting practice?” His eyes don’t leave yours as he takes a swig of his whiskey. He sets the glass down with a small thud.
“We’re gonna need some guns.”
»»---------------------►
“You do know we can just walk down there and shoot them all?” Logan remarks. The two of you are lying flat on your stomachs, side by side, behind a large piece of rock. You had managed to find the smugglers with little trouble, now all that was left was to move in on them.
“Yes, I know that. But I at least want to pretend I’m outsmarting them.”
“It’s not outsmarting if you already know they’re going to do.” You sigh, turning onto your side to face Logan. His eyes rake down your body and he smirks, “I can think of a few other things we could be doing to pass the time.” You narrow your eyes at him,
“I bet you can.” He flicks the brim of your hat, dislodging it slightly. You lean over and push his hat playfully. He raises a brow at you, and you mimic his expression with a cheeky smile. He lunges forwards, knocking your hat from your head.
“Logan!” You cry out, and he presses a hand to your mouth.
“Stay quiet Austen, thought you wanted the element of surprise.” You shove at him with a pout, and he lets his hand drop.
“You asshole!” You hiss at him. “You got sand in my hat.” Grains of sand fall from the hat, and you have to shake it several times to clear it. “Logan Delos you are a sick individual.” He laughs, a bright, genuine laugh that you can’t help but smile at as you put your hat back on. You suddenly realise how much closer you had gotten, the warmth of Logan’s body now right by your side. He adjusts your hat slightly, moving the brim so that he can meet your eyes.
“I like seeing you like this.” He admits softly.
“Plotting the murder of some smugglers?” He rolls his eyes at you,
“No. I-“ Neither of you react at the sound of a gun cocking. Hosts can’t actually shoot you, so you both know you’re safe. You hear Logan swear in irritation at being disrupted. You look up at the smuggler who’s aiming his gun at you.
“Do you mind? We’re kind of having a moment here?” You ask, and Logan laughs. His eyes twinkle as he looks at you. You both share an exasperated look as the host recounts his scripted threats. You tilt your head towards him, your eyes still on Logan. “Do you want this one, or…?” He shakes his head.
“All yours.” You pull out your pistol and fire two shots into the smuggler’s chest. He goes down with a spurt of blood and a thud. When you turn back to Logan he’s smiling at you.
“I think you enjoyed that a little too much.” You remark.
“No such thing.” He tilts his head to watch you, his eyes flickering down to your lips. You shift slightly, bringing yourself closer to him.
Then the gunfire starts. “This is your fault.” Logan insists, as the two of you lay low.
“How is this my fault?”
“They heard you.”
“Yeah, yelling at you for being annoying. Now I suppose we’ll have to do it your way.”
“My way?”
“Running down there and shooting everyone.” His eyes light up. You shake your head at him, not even trying to fight your smile.
“How about this,” he suggests as he pulls out his pistol. “Whoever kills the most smugglers gets to choose where we have dinner.”
“Deal.” You say, grabbing your shotgun. The hosts in this group are programmed to miss guests, so you and Logan both duck out from your hiding spot without much care.
Logan is faster than you, but he nearly slips as he runs down the slope towards the band of smugglers. A cloud of dust billows behind him, and you hear him cough. With a grin, you take aim at the smugglers. When Logan hears you firing he yells complaints at you, to which you respond with a very sympathetic ‘run faster’. You hear Logan’s laughter and realise that coming to Westworld with him was one of the best decisions you had made in a while.
»»---------------------►
You won the bet, much to Logan’s dismay. His plans of taking you to a strip club were scuppered when you told him where you were going for dinner. The Golden Rose - one of the more respectable places to eat in Westworld. Logan had complained immensely, even more so when you kicked him out of your shared room so that you could change for the evening. He’s busy glowering at the wooden planks beneath his feet as he paces the entrance to the saloon you’re staying at. So, he doesn’t notice you approaching until you clear your throat.
Logan’s jaw nearly drops. There’s been plenty of instances where Logan has considered you beautiful. When you get excited and ramble on about the inner details of a storyline. When you bounce back from his taunts with your own teasing. Even today, with the sun shining down on your face as you soak in everything Westworld has to offer. But now, he’s certain you’ve never looked more beautiful. He’s never understood the frills and ruffles on the dresses the girls in Westworld wear, but seeing them on you makes them look delicate and pretty. The satin skirts rustle slightly as you step towards him, and he can’t stop himself from staring. Your dress is a rich green, and white lace adorns the edges of the fabric. A plunging neckline reveals more of you than he’s ever seen before, and Logan considers it a crime that he’s been unable to admire the delicate slope of your neck, or the soft skin of your chest all this time.
You watch his reaction, fiddling with the white lace gloves as nerves take a hold of you for the first time today.
“Too much?” You ask, hesitantly. He shakes his head, lips parted but no words fall from them. A soft smile curls at your lips as you step closer to him, “This is the second time I’ve made you speechless.” You lean forward, adjusting his tie as you say softly, “Do you remember the first?” His eyes snap to yours, and he gives you the same look as before, like he wants to devour you whole. He steps forward, and you lean back. Towering over you, Logan places his hands on your waist, just where the fabric of the dress begins to flare out.
“Do I remember?” He muses in a dark tone. Your back presses against one of the beams that supports the awning at the front of the saloon, his body now flush against yours. “Do you have any idea how hard your little stunt in the elevator made me?” He says against your neck as he mouths hot kisses over your exposed skin. You breathe out his name in a pleading tone. “Was thinking about what you told me, all day long.” He nips his teeth into the soft flesh under your jaw, and you tilt your head back with a small gasp. “That every time I was fucking one of those whores. When they begged for my cock, for my fingers, for my cum. That was all you, darlin’.” You whine both at his words, and the new nickname, as he continues to work his mouth over your neck. “Thought about it every night. The things they said, and replaced them with you.” You shudder as his teeth tug at your earlobe. “Your sweet voice begging for me. Your pretty face scrunched up in pleasure. Your little whines and gasps and moans.” His hands are firm on your waist, preventing your hips from moving to search out the friction you’re desperate for.
Then he pulls away. The cool night air hits you, making you realise how flushed you are. Logan stands a few paces away, his hands in his pockets with a shit-eating grin on his face.
“Logan, what the fuck are you doing?”
“Taking you to dinner.” You close your eyes for a long moment, trying to process the sexual whiplash. His soft laughter doesn’t help. “Call it a taste of your own medicine.” You scowl at him and he laughs again. He holds out his arm to you, and despite your annoyance you link arms with him.
“I hate you.” You insist as the two of you make your way down the street. He chuckles before his lips brush against your ear as he says quietly,
“I’m sure if I slipped a hand into your panties I’d feel just how much you hate me.”
“If you’re gonna be an ass all night I’ll dine by myself.” He grins, pressing a kiss to your temple. Despite his filthy words only moments prior, you can’t help the rush of warmth flooding your cheeks at the simple action of his lips against your hairline.
“If you’re a good girl, and put up with me during dinner, you’ll get a reward.”
“Bold of you to assume I’d want your reward.” You remark lightly, but you both know the truth.
»»---------------------►
Logan actually keeps the teasing to a minimum during dinner. Which means that he’s his usual flirty self. Suggestive comments and winks are thrown your way, and you find it harder and harder to shrug them off as you usually would.
At one point you open your fan, directing a cool breeze to the flushed skin of your throat. Logan follows the motion with dark eyes.
“Hot, darlin?” He remarks, leaning back in his chair as he watches you.
“No.” He gestures at the fan with an unbelieving look. “It’s for the aesthetic.” A coy smirk traces his lips. His eyes trailing down from your face to your chest again.
Throughout the meal, Logan insists on you trying a piece of his food. The first time it happens you’re thoroughly flustered, as his gaze roams over you. He watches your lips enclose around his fork, your eyes fluttering closed as you taste the dish. You notice his eyes dipping to stare down your bodice and you narrow your eyes at him. By the third time he offers you a bite you’re very nearly scowling at him.
“Come on darlin.” He coos at you, waving his fork enticingly. In all honesty, the dessert he picked looks good. So, you roll your eyes with a sigh, but indulge him nonetheless. You’re not too certain about the historical accuracy of having chocolate desserts in Westworld, but it tastes far too good for you to care. As usual, Logan watches you intently, and you reach for your napkin. He gets to your lips first, brushing some remaining chocolate away with his thumb. Your eyes widen slightly, but you trace your tongue against the pad of his thumb, sucking it gently between your lips. Logan’s eyes seem to darken even more. “Good girl.”
It isn’t long before the two of you are heading back to your room.
»»---------------------►
“How attached are you to this dress?”
“Don’t rip it.” You plead, and he clenches his jaw slightly at the thought of not having you right now. “You’ve made me wait all night, you can last another five minutes.” You tell him, tugging your shoes off and discarding them as you move further into the room. You stand in front of the mirror attached to the wardrobe and attempt to undo your dress. Logan watches for a moment, leaning against the door.
“You need a hand?” You huff as your arms strain to untangle the lacing at the back. His eyes meet yours in the mirror and you nod,
“Please.” A lazy grin covers his face as he approaches you. He undoes the laces with ease, and you watch his reflection in the mirror, his brows furrowed lightly as he concentrates. The dress is only two layers, and he helps you step out of the first one. He folds the dress over a chair and returns to you. His body presses against your back, as he slips the shoulders of your under layer down. There’s no intricate lacing, just a few simple buttons that he undoes, letting the fabric slide away from your body to pool down around your feet.
“Look at you.” He whispers as his eyes trail down the length of your body. The structure of the dress meant you had forgo a bra, and you were wearing cotton panties for the sake of comfort during your trip. But with the way Logan looks at you, you might as well be made of gold. He steps back, and you frown, turning around to face him. He’s sitting at the end of the bed, legs spread apart casually, but his stare doesn’t falter. “Think it’s time you return the favour darlin.”
A small smile tugs at your lips and you sink to your knees in front of him. His eyes are locked on yours, and you see his adam’s apple bob as he takes in the sight of you. Without breaking eye contact, you tug off his boots and socks. Then you lean forward, pulling his jacket off. Logan watches your chest as your breathing becomes more and more heavy with each article of clothing removed. He licks his lips, an action that does not go unnoticed by you. When only his underwear remains, he beckons you closer, dipping his head down to capture your lips. One of his hands fists your hair, the other grasps onto one of your breasts, kneading it with his fingers. The wooden floor is hard on your knees, but you stay where you are, held in place by Logan’s hand in your hair. You moan into his mouth, your nails digging into the bare flesh of his thighs. He groans in response, and nips your lower lip between his teeth, to which your grip on him tightens.
“Fuck, I’m going to ruin you.” He growls, his tone sending a shudder down your spine. He tugs on your hair to bare your throat to him. When his teeth sink into the sensitive skin of your shoulder, your hips jerk towards him. He laughs darkly, sending a flood of warmth through your body and you whine. “You that desperate darlin? Gonna hump against my leg like a needy little puppy?”
“Fuck you.” You hiss, though there’s no venom in your voice, and he laughs again.
“Oh I know you want to.” He leans back, his hands releasing you and lying flat on the bed. “So convince me.”
“What?”
“All those dirty little whispers.” He says, quoting you. “Put them to good use.” Your eyes widen, and you can’t think for a solid five seconds. Logan pats his thigh, and you manoeuvre yourself into his lap. “You can hide your face if it makes you feel better.” He murmurs, as you tuck your face into the crook of his neck.
“Need you Logan.” A trails a singular finger down your spine, drawing a shudder from you.
“I know you do, so tell me what you want. Put that clever little mouth of yours to work.”
“Want you to fuck me.” You start quietly.
“Another literary masterpiece as always, Austen.” You nip at his earlobe, dragging it slowly between your teeth, your tongue trailing against the skin for a moment. He hums in surprise, but his response is still very controlled. You want to see him break.
“I want you to fuck me full, Logan. Want to have your cum spill out of my pussy.” You trail your hand down his chest, along his stomach, to cup his bulge. The muscle in his jaw clenches as you circle your thumb delicately. “I know you’re big, know you’d fill me so well.” He grips onto your hips tightly but you continue, wanting more of a reaction from him. “I might be a little tight, but I know you’ll make it fit.” Your voice is a soft whisper against his ear, “Because I was made for you.”
The world spins, and the next thing you know your back is against the mattress. Logan’s hand is on your throat, his knees pin each of your thighs down, spreading you open for him. The two of you are breathless, from the teasing, and the sudden motion that’s landed you in this new position. His eyes bore into yours and you lift a brow,
“Convinced, sir?” He growls, his lips descending to move against every inch of your body. With your legs pinned, and his hand still on your throat, you can do very little but succumb to the feeling of his hot, wet mouth as he ravages every bit of you. Your hands go to his hair, tugging hard to try and find something to ground you. He moans at your actions, his teeth scraping against the soft flesh of your breast. As with everything in life, Logan goes all out. He bites red marks into your skin, branding you as his. The feeling of his wet tongue tracing over your most tender spots has you shaking. When he pulls away you nearly sob, as the sudden lack of such pleasure overwhelms you. Then you realise he’s pulling your panties down. His fingers trail over your legs as he removes the garment. He groans at how soaked they are, and once you’re free you spread your legs.
“What a pretty sight.” His hands smooth over your thighs as he hovers over you. He presses his lips against yours, his hold on your thighs preventing you from rocking against him. His lips move to your throat, down the valley of your breasts. He presses soft kisses in a line down your stomach, the scrape of his beard alighting your body with shivers. You don’t see his wicked grin, but you feel him blow cold air against your bare pussy, drawing something between a whine and a growl from your throat. But you don’t have time to throw an insult at him, because the cold air is soon replaced with his hot tongue against your slit. With a gasp, you throw your head back. His fingers dig into your thighs, holding you in place as he works his tongue against your pussy. A shockingly loud moan is ripped from your throat when he slides a finger into you. You whine when he pulls out, watching him as he observes his slick covered finger. Then he slides two fingers in, curling them as you clench around him.
“It’s a good job that I did all that teasing earlier, otherwise I’d never fit in such a tight little pussy.” You buck your hips against his fingers, needing more of him.
“Logan, please.”
“So well mannered now.” He remarks as he rocks his fingers inside of you. “Please what, darlin?”
“Please.” You pause, trying and failing to catch your breath. “Can I have your cock?”
“Don’t you want to cum first?” You shake your head violently, and he chuckles. His thumb brushes over your clit and you yelp in pleasure. “You sure about that? Cause little pussy is gripping me like a vice.” He traces slow circles over your clit, and you arch your back, desperate to take more of him. Logan kisses your thighs as he increases his pace, nipping his teeth against your soft flesh.
“Oh Logan, please.” He’s entranced, watching you nearly mad with pleasure, your wet pussy clutching around his fingers. He needs to see you cum, needs to feel your wet heat spill onto his hand.
“Cum for me sweetheart.” He says, lowering his mouth to your clit and sucking hard. Your hands grip onto his hair again, and you cry out his name as you climax. He continues his motions, prolonging your bliss. You whimper slightly when he removes his fingers. He holds them out to you, and you manage to prop yourself up on your elbows, leaning forward to take his fingers into your mouth. Logan’s eyes are locked on yours as you clean off his fingers with your tongue. Once you’re finished, he pulls away, tugging off his underwear before he practically leaps back into bed with you. You giggle,
“Someone’s eager.” He grins at you, slotting himself between your legs.
“You ready for me?” He asks, with genuine concern in his eyes.
“Yes. Absolutely.”
“Good. Cause I ain’t stopping until you beg me.”
Your thighs and pussy are coated in slick, allowing him to slide in with ease though you still feel the stretch. Logan presses his forehead against yours.
“Doing okay?” He asks, his voice strained. You nod, your own voice nonexistent. “Course you are, doing so good for me.” You moan at the sound of his praise, and he grins. He takes hold of your wrists, guiding your hands to grip onto the metal frame of the bed. His own hands hold right onto your hips, and then he begins to move. The drag of his cock drawing more moans from your lips, as he hits every pleasure spot you have inside you.
All the while he’s whispering filth into your ear.
“You think your colleagues are making bets right now? Betting how long you’ll last before you come around my cock, huh?” He knows they’re not, because he turned off visibility for the entire saloon. No one else is allowed to see you like this. But he doesn’t regret his words when he feels you clench around him. “Fuck, baby, if you were one of those plastic dolls, this pussy would make me a fortune. But you’re mine. All mine.”
“All yours, fuck, Logan.” He groans,
“Say my name again. Who’s making you feel this good?”
“It’s you, oh fuck Logan. It’s you, it’s all you.” Those are the last coherent words from you. As your mind clouds over with pleasure, pleas and cries of his name are the only sounds from your lips. He scoffs a laugh,
“All those pretty words of yours Austen, and now the only thing you can say is my name.” Your nails press into the skin of your palm as you grip the headboard even tighter. Logan captures each of your gasps and moans with his lips as you teeter on the brink of another orgasm. He dips one hand down between your legs to rub at your clit, and you arch even further into him. He groans as you begin to lose control, your entire body shaking. His forehead presses against your collarbone.
“Cum for me, baby.” He encourages you, and you take your hands away from the headboard, grasping at his hips.
“You too.” You gasp, sliding your nails over his back. He shudders,
“M’right behind you.” You cry out his name as you cum for the second time. Logan growls your name against the skin of your shoulder as he continues to pound into you. His moans get even louder as your pussy spasms around him. His teeth sink into your throat as he cums, spilling inside of you. Your eyes roll back as the after waves hit you, feeling his warmth filling you as your pussy continues to twitch. You’re suddenly aware of how quiet it is in the room, with just the sounds of your breathing as the two of you attempt to catch your breath. Logan is careful as he pulls out, watching your face as you hum quietly. He lies down, half on top of you, but you like the reassurance of his weight. The sounds of Sweetwater’s nightlife filter in through the thin glass of the window. Drunken guests singing along to the saloon’s music, very distant gunfire, and the quiet hum of the desert surrounding you. Suddenly becoming aware of everything, you laugh softly,
“I can’t believe we just did that.”
“That good, huh?” He says with a grin, then he lifts his gaze to meet your eyes. “You regret it?” You watch him as he props himself up to look at you. You lift a hand to smooth a strand of hair away from his forehead.
“No.” You admit softly. “Do you?” He shakes his head.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.” Surprise fills your eyes as you tilt your head at him.
“Seriously?” A half-smirk tugs at his lips.
“You couldn’t tell?”
“Logan, you flirt with everything that moves.” He opens his mouth in faux shock.
“I do not.” You raise a brow at him, and he relents, “Okay, maybe I do. But,” he adds, raising a finger. “You are my favourite.” He taps his finger against your forearm to emphasise his point.
“Really?” You ask quietly. He nods, genuine care in his eyes at his admission. You smile tenderly at him, which he returns with his own boyish smile. Then he shrugs,
“But don’t let that go to your head, Austen. Cause the last thing we need is another writer with a greater sense of their own self importan-” You lean forward, pressing a kiss to his lips. He cups your face carefully, even when your lips separate.
“You’re my favourite too.” You tell him, knowing that this is as close to a love confession that Logan can vocalise. He leans in to kiss you again, the two of you practically beaming against each other’s lips.
»»---------------------►
Sunlight casts a golden glow over the room, as you blink the sleep from your eyes. Your head is tucked against Logan’s chest, one leg draped over his, the other pressed against his body. His hand is tucked under your knee, holding your leg in place. The fingers on his other hand trace over your bare shoulders, feather light touches against your skin. You can already hear the sounds of the townspeople bustling down on the street. There’s an entire world out there waiting for you, but you’re perfectly content to stay in this quiet moment with Logan’s arms around you. You turn your head, eyes meeting his straight away.
“Mornin’.” He says, his voice still raspy from sleep. You smile up at him,
“Morning.” He smooths his hand over your thigh, his thumb circling as he repeats the motion several times. You sigh contentedly, “We planning on staying in bed all day?”
“Well, you wouldn’t hear any complaints from me.” You smile fondly at him. “But I had a couple of ideas for today.” You hum in acknowledgement and he continues, “I was thinking we could ride over to the riverbank. If you’re not too sore after last night.” He teases. You press your face against his chest as your cheeks warm.
“I’m sure I’ll manage.” You mumble against his skin, and he chuckles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head,
“Atta girl.”
»»---------------------►
It’s approaching noon as the two of you walk down the street towards where Logan left your horses yesterday, meaning that you’ve missed the morning shootout between the Sheriff and some bandits perfectly. Logan’s cowboy swagger looks considerably less mysterious as he swings his hand in your own, and you can’t push the smile off your face. He always looks happy and carefree in Westworld, but never like this.
Every employee of Westworld has horse riding and shooting lessons, on the occasion that the skills are needed when out in the park. It’s nice for you to finally put those skills to use. Even nicer when it’s for a day out in the sun with Logan. You’re more familiar with the towns and people of Westworld, since you’re the one who knows their backstories, their current narrative, their jobs, and their families. Meaning that you’re more than happy to follow Logan’s lead as the two of you ride out into the desert.
He stops by a secluded creek, there’s a few trees providing another shade for the two of you to relax in. You slide off your horse, and Logan takes the reins from you. He nods behind you,
“Take a look.” You turn, and the sight takes your breath away. In the distance you can see the river winding its way into the mountains, and the mountains themselves are hazy with the heat. The sky is a shocking blue, a stark contrast from dusty red of the pillars of rock that surround you. A perfect little valley. The spot where you had stopped has grass that’s a much brighter hue than the dried out blades that surround Sweetwater, and in the corner of your eye you catch the sight of some stray cattle grazing. Aside from the cattle and the birds, you and Logan are completely alone. You turn back to him, finding his eyes fixed on your face. There’s a softness in his expression as he observes the wonder on your face. Then he pulls a bottle out of his pack with a grin.
“Fancy a drink?” And you laugh with a nod. You toss a blanket down over the dirt floor, and the two of you settle down with your food and drink.
“You know, I sometimes forget how big it all is.” You say, and Logan turns his head to look at you. “I only ever see it on screens, or in my head.”
“Is it living up to your expectations?” You smile widely at him,
“Even better.”
You spend the rest of the day there. Lounging in the sun, then retreating to the shade of the trees when you were too warm. Lying in Logan’s arms as the two of you talk, and kiss.
When the first signs of sunset begin to show themselves you suggest heading back, not wanting your peaceful day to be hijacked by a group of bandits waiting in the dark. Logan agrees and you prepare the horses while he gathers your belongings.
“Next time,” he tells you, leaning in to kiss your lips. “I’m taking you stargazing, and I will personally kill whatever bandits and smugglers that try to disrupt us.”
“Who knew you were such a romantic?” You tease, and he tips his hat dramatically.
It’s not long before you’re back in Sweetwater, putting your horses away and heading back to your room at the Silver Dollar. Logan helps you pack your trunk, and the two of you are heading down to the station before you know it. You link your fingers with his, as his arm drapes over your shoulder. Your trunk is in his other hand.
“I don’t want this to end.” You admit, and Logan looks down at your face.
“We can come back whenever you want. You come with me and it’ll be free, and I won’t have to deal with all that waiting a night for you to get here.”
“That was your idea.” You remind him, before adding quietly, “If you’d asked me to drop everything and go with you that night, I would have.”
“You would?” You nod. “I might have to spring some more surprise holidays on you.” You narrow your eyes at him,
“I’m not sure if my boss would approve.” He laughs softly, pressing a kiss to your temple.
“I’m sure we could work something out.”
»»---------------------►
It feels strange to wake up in your bed on a Monday morning, in contrast to waking up in Logan’s arms yesterday morning. Despite this, you settle back into your routine fairly easily as you prepare for work. You pick up your data pad, slipping it into your pocket before heading out.
“Morning darlin.” You frown, locking your front door before turning towards the familiar voice.
“Good morning Mr Delos.” He pouts and you laugh softly, “What?”
“You’re not on the clock yet.”
“No but I am heading to work now.” You reason, before asking in a professional tone, “Is there something you need, sir?”
“Absolutely.” He steps forward, his hands on your hips to press you against the wall. His lips are on yours, and you moan softly, not realising how much you’d missed him during the last few hours without him. He moves down to your neck before stopping. “You haven’t covered them up.” He says, surprise lacing his tone. You laugh quietly with a small shrug,
“I think everyone knows what we did this weekend. What’s the point in hiding it?” His heart soars at the thought of you being proud to show off his claim on you, but you suddenly begin to overthink. “Unless, of course, you want me to? We can still be professional-”
“Darlin, my thoughts are far from professional at the moment.” He interrupts you. You lift a brow with a smile.
“Oh really? Penny for your thoughts?” His smile widens, as his lips move back to your throat. He shrugs lightly,
“Just thinking I might add a few more of these.” He traces his tongue over one of the marks and you shudder.
“If you make too much of a mess of me, people might think you mugged me.” He laughs, a soft breath against your skin as he smirks.
“What happens in Westworld, stays in Westworld.”
“Hopefully not all of it.” You say softly. Logan meets your eyes, his thumb tracing over your cheek tenderly.
“No, not all of it.”
»»---------------------►
Logan Delos Tag List: @all-art-is-quite-useless @nemesis729 @allhailthemightyquattro @fuzzyghosts
#logan delos#logan delos x reader#logan delos au#logan delos westworld#logan delos fanfiction#logan delos fanfic#logan delos fluff#logan delos imagine#logan delos smut#logan delos x you#ben barnes#ben barnes x reader#delos and austen au
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224 || G.W.
George Weasley x Reader, Soulmate AU
Genre: Fluff, humor
Summary: Each soulmate pair receives a special number to them, and them only, on the day they’re born into this world. The placement on the body can vary, so people usually keep to themselves unless they fancy someone or it’s displayed somewhere public. How do you go around explaining to your best friend that he’s the one?
A/N: i have been so inactive, I’m so sorry rip I am going to try to post a fic here and there, but I’m still a student doing student things... This blog recently turned 2 years old, and has reached about 300 followers, so thank you so much for those of you who have found me in the piles of other wonderful works :) I love you all from the bottom of my heart.
--x--
“Oh, do forgive me, Georgie,” you playfully shove him out of the way. He stumbles away from the shelf containing the last package of Fizzing Whizbees in time for you to snatch it into your hands. You hear him chuckle as he regains his balance behind you. It’s suffocatingly crowded with fellow students in Honeydukes, so he leans in close so you can hear him.
His warm breath comes close to your ear, saying with a soft laugh,” At least share, alright?”
You tapped your chin thoughtfully as the smile plastered on your face turned into a smirk. You make your way to the cashier with George close behind. The candy in the box shake in your hands, and the decorative ring you’re wearing on your middle finger glimmers in the shop’s light. You call over your shoulder,” If you win the next match against Slytherin, I might.”
This statement alone had George fist pump the air in satisfaction. Even if he lost, you would most likely share it anyways –– to cheer him up, of course. You two have been best friends since your first year when you cleverly evaded one of the twins’ pranks. It was a lucky guess, but the outcome left Fred and George tangled in a mess of burping up slugs for three hours. It was an easy friendship after that, other than the secret feelings you harbored for George, that is.
Soon enough, the match came and the sight was an absolutely thrilling one. You watch as each player flies by, and each time the wind sweeps your hair in every direction. Fred and George are on a spectacular streak, and they never once miss the bludger. Thankfully you had a pair of binoculars and Lee Jordan’s commentary; the team was so small in the air that it was hard to tell what was happening.
Harry Potter was no doubt going to catch the snitch, and here he comes now swooping in underneath his teammates. He’s almost flat against his broomstick, urging it to go faster before Malfoy could get to the fluttering golden speck. All eyes are on Potter, and the boy is mere inches away. Just as his nimble fingers wrap around the snitch, another Gryffindor teammate drops from the air.
You can hear the subtle gasps from a few in the crowd who noticed. The Gryffindor team were too enraptured with Harry’s catch to notice that one of them was dropping ten, twenty, thirty meters to the ground. “George!” You cried.
As if sending a telepathic message to the other twin, though it is most likely he heard you yell as clear as day, Fred swoops down to save his brother from impact. You notice now that you're standing on your feet and leaning on the railing that separates you from your best friends on the field. You watch on in horror as Fred barely makes it in time. The breath you didn’t know you were holding finally escapes you, and your surroundings come back all at once.
You hear the deafening silence and the sound of the wind blowing by. No one moves as they watch Fred land on the ground with George. It was Lee who ended the tension,” And with that, Gryffindor earns 130 points and has won the match…”
All at once, everyone in the stands scrambles to get out. Elated with Harry’s catch and the twins’ safety, the student body goes their separate ways. You follow them as well and weave your way through the crowd to get to Fred and George. Panic fills your lungs, and every fiber in your body screams to make sure they’re okay.
“Fred!” You call out,” Are you two alright?”
“Yeah, no harm done to me,” he sighs,” –– Other than this git. A bludger whacked him straight on the side and he passed out on his ride down.”
“It looks like it hurts… but it’s nothing Madame Pomfrey can’t handle, right?” You wince. You try to convince yourself that George is just sleeping a very deep, restful sleep.
“I reckon he’ll be fine, y/n.” Fred winks your way with a sly grin. “Visit him lots, yeah?”
Madame Pomfrey refused to let anyone in until she was done running some tests. When she finally let you visit, you rushed to sit next to George’s bedside. He stirred at your frantic movements and opened an eye to see you. “It’s not that bad is it?” He chuckles.
“She said that you’ve broken a few ribs, but you’ll be alright.” You smile.
George sits up slowly, pretending to be in agonizing pain. You worry for a bit and reach out to him on instinct, but he laughs and tells you he’s okay. His torso is wrapped entirely with gauze over his clothes, and there are a few bandages wrapped around his forearms as well. Pomfrey had drawn a blanket over George earlier, so the white sheet still covered the lower half of his body. A moment goes by, and you hear a soft wheeze leaving George’s lips. “You don’t suppose my soulmate is into beaten up ginger-heads, do you?”
“Well,” you mull over your words. Pretending to take his question seriously, you answer,” they would have if you were Fred..” You laugh a little as you catch the glint in his eyes –– the mischievous one you had grown to love.
“Oh, if only I looked exactly like that bloke.” He jokes. His head falls a little forward as he laughs. His gaze is drawn to his lap, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say that he looked like those shy love interests in romantic muggle films.
You notice that his fiery hair is covering his eyes, and your body compels you to get another glimpse of that wonderful boy’s face. Ever so gently, you reach your hand out and tuck a strand of his hair behind his ear. When your fingers curve around the back of his ear, you notice a few dark marks of what looks like a tattoo. Your eyebrows furrow together in confusion. You go to move more of his hair out of the way, but he turns his eyes to you.
“Are you getting handsy with me y/n? Tryin’ to make a move, are you?” He smiles, but there is a small panic in his eyes as they frantically search yours. “You could’ve just asked me out, you know.”
“Is that your soulmate mark?” You ask.
“Maybe.”
“Well,” you huff playfully,” I might be able to tell you who your soulmate is. I might cry if your soulmate is Madame Pomfrey, though.”
“Is that a bad thing?” He asks, a playful tone in his voice.
"Georgie, please don’t tell me you have a thing for milfs.”
It takes everything in him to hold back his laughter. George pulls his hair back to reveal the numbers 224 etched behind his left ear. Your breath catches in your throat, but you try to hide your very obvious shock. 224 was a number you knew too well, and seeing that number reflected on your best friend’s skin meant that your deepest feelings were true. It’s okay to be in love with George because now... now there is chance he feels the same way.
Your mark is tattooed on the band of your middle finger, which is usually covered up by jewelry. You fidget with your rings nervously, trying to ground yourself all the while. George doesn’t pay too much attention to it when he says,“Fred has his numbers on his right ear. I might be the right-hand man, but he’s lucky enough to be the right-ear man.”
You laugh at his really bad pun,” Really? Out of all of the ear jokes, you chose that one?”
“It made you laugh, didn’t it?” He nudges you with his shoulder, and you can’t help but giggle some more.
“Would you like to hear a fun fact?” You ask. You gulp down all of the fear that has started to swallow you whole. You are George’s soulmate. The idea buzzes in your head along with a million other thoughts. George nods for you to continue, and you fight the panicked urge to scream. “...In the muggle world, they have such advanced technology.”
“Yeah, dad would know––” George interjects for a second.
“The numbers 224 actually hold a meaning to them. It’s something like a code–– it’s related to their fancy devices I think? Anyways,” you take a deep breath. You remember vividly the details your friend went to great lengths explaining to you.
“Your number is all kinds of special, y/n!” Mae beams at you. Her eyes twinkle in an amusing manner as she tries to prove herself. A soft thud could be heard when her hands meet with the common room table, and she quickly jumps to her feet. “Imagine, having such a fantastic number as that!” She exclaims with awe.
“I don’t understand?” You bemusedly remark. Why would numbers hold more meanings beyond your standard soulmate reason?
“My brother loves binary code, a certain muggle science,” she explains,” and he told me a few meanings. One of them being yours! Now, if only fate would tell us who your soulmate was...”
If Mae were in this room, she would be bursting at the seams from pure glee. You look into George’s eyes and say,” ...the numbers actually mean something along the lines of ‘Today, Tomorrow, Forever.’ It has to do with the bond you and your soulmate have together.“
He blinks once or twice before breaking out into a grin,” Okay, can you say it again but,” he emphasizes,” simpler, maybe?
“––it means that your soulmate will love an accident-prone idiot like you forever and always,” You joke halfheartedly.
The familiar gleaming smile he wore after a successful prank creeps up onto his face: one of self satisfaction and deserving of many awards based on looks alone. His smile is much gentler and you almost miss it, but a blush tints the very tips of his cheeks. “Oh? wait ‘till dad finds out that numbers have meanings to muggles. How’d you know all of this anyway?”
“Oh, it’s just something my friend talked to me about.” You dismiss his questioning gaze and clear your throat. Every second that passes makes you more and more anxious being around George, simply just by knowing you two are soulmates. It’s a dream come true, sure. But how do you go around explaining to your best friend that he’s the one?
“Are you alright, y/n?” George asks. “You seem real fidgety. Do you need to go somewhere?”
“Oh–– no, it just that,” you gulp. “Well.. I think left the Fizzing Whizbees back in my dorm room.” You lie. You know it’s in your bag with your other belongings, safely tucked away for later consumption. “Post-game snacks are essential, and I did make a promise.”
“Are you sure you left it there? I thought I saw it in your bag...” He leans over to find your bag, and sure enough, he pulls out the box of candy.
“Oh.” You look at him. There’s an awkward pause before he clears his throat.
“You’ve really got to get yourself together mate–– looks like Nearly Headless Nick showed you his neck hole again or something.” George jokes to lighten the mood, but he’s right. The longer you sit there and stare at him, the more you either want to slam your lips against his or vomit profusely. You feel pale and sickly; just enough to feel the twists and turns of your stomach. Is this what having butterflies feel like? He opens the bag of candy and offers you some.
You share the box of whizbees with him, taking one out and popping them into your mouth. It fizzes and jolts a little as the sweet taste melts on your tongue. “I think maybe Fred slipped something to me earlier,” you avert your gaze,” I’m not sure.”
“Yeah, sounds like Fred.” George grabs your hand and looks you in the eyes. He’s rubbing soothing circles on your hands, and it does seem to relax some of your nerves. He looks at you softly and gently, and all at once, your anxiety starts to melt away in his presence. You almost forget why you’re so worried in the first place. “You know I’m not going anywhere. If you have to take a massive shit, I’ll wait for you.” He says as he pats your hand reassuringly.
You erupt into laughter and shove him away. “And here I thought we were having a moment.”
“Nothing says true love like bowl movements, darling.”
As the laughter dies down, the somber feeling in your gut returns. It’s now or never, right? “George, I think I need to tell you something. I—“
Fred bursts into the door with Lee following shortly behind. “There’s my favorite twin!” He beams. He gets a disapproving look from Madame Pomfrey peering around the corner from her office. Fred doesn’t pay much attention, choosing to walk past her with barely a glance over his shoulder. George rolls his eyes as Fred happily trots over, spilling some liquid from two mugs in his hands. “—had to have Lee help sneak these in for the party, which you lot are missing out on.” He hands you a mug of butter beer and George, the other.
You decide to drop the subject even after George was free from the hospital bed. It’s a few weeks since then, and school has made you push those thoughts of pesky soulmates and true love aside. Of course, George kept looking at you funny, waiting for you to bring it up again. To his dismay, you didn’t.
“Alright everyone, class is dismissed.” Professor Sprout announces as she busies herself in setting up plants for the next day. It’s the last class of the day, and you couldn’t be happier. Repotting plants was hard work, and you were sweaty enough as it is. Beads of sweat dripped down the side of your face, and as much as you hated it, it did make for good eye candy across the room — namely George, although there’s a lot of dirt smudged onto his face too.
He’s cleaning up rather quickly so you call out to him,” Can you grab my rings, Georgie? They’re over there by my bag.” You had to remove jewelry in order to “safely handle” the creatures and wear proper gloves. Those of which you hastily pull off to wash your hands. The suds come and go as you lather and rinse away in the sink.
“Today, tomorrow, forever eh?” George’s deep voice rumbles in your ear. You jump a little at the sudden scare. “I think I like the sound of that, don’t you?”
You turn your head a little to the side and come very close to George’s face. You can feel his breath fanning on your skin, and his nose is just barely touching yours. You fear that if you blink, the sight in front of you will vanish. Every freckle that glitters his skin is so close you could count them like the stars and draw constellations between them if you wanted to. It’s absolutely breathtaking. Your body feels like it’s on a cloud— so feather light and airy— as he smiles at you. Your throat is dry; your tongue struggles to keep up with your thoughts. “...what?” You choke out. You cover your hands on impulse, but you know it’s too late.
“It means you’re stuck with me forever, y/n.” He grins. “Soulmate magic is no joke, you know.” He hands you your rings and walks beside you out of the greenhouse. You slip the rings on to your middle finger where it’s always resided, deciding to fidget with it a little.
Nothing should be different. You’re walking with George in the hallways like you always do, your hair is no different than yesterday, and class was the same as an other day. And yet your heart is beating faster and the sun seems to shine brighter. The grass is greener and the lake bluer than it was this morning. Words remain unspoken, but the truth is there. His fingers are interlocked with yours. 224.
#george weasley#george#weasley#fred weasley#fred#harry potter#hogwarts#hogwarts fanfic#george weasley fluff#george weasley fanfic#hp#hp fanfic#hp fluff#oneshot#george weasley one shot#george weasley oneshot#fluff#george weasley soulmate#soulmate au#soulmates#soulmate#how many more keywords do i need#gryffindor#ravenclaw#hufflepuff#slytherin#george weasley x reader#x reader#fred weasley x reader#hp x reader
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