#A “well what does that have to do with me?”
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slushglow · 3 days ago
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the price of your mercy
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luveline · 3 days ago
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I would like to say that this is NOT a smut request(unless of course you want it to be but it does not matter to me), but I’d love to see hotch finding out his sister and Spencer are not just an innocent couple because I know that would be so so so funny and awkward and I’m a sucker for awkward Spencer
Aaron wants you to be happy. More than anything, he wants you to have all the things in life he himself has been lucky to experience. A well paying job that he likes, a wife, a child. He wants you to be fulfilled, even in parts of life he’d prefer you didn’t have at all. 
“Remember that?” 
He wrinkles his nose. Spencer’s leaning over you, a hand encroaching the inside of your thigh, and Aaron isn’t that kind of brother but he sort of is; he feels a mixture of horror, mild disgust, and anger at the sight. He remembers you’re a grown up and so is Spencer before he can voice these emotions. 
You’re laughing. “Remember what, Spencer? Your dire inability to make a hickey?” 
“I’m not giving you a hickey!” Spencer whispers severely. “What is with you and biting? I don’t wanna bite you, and especially not where you wanted it.” 
“Everyone gives hickeys, Spencer.” 
“Please don’t say anything else. I don’t wanna know a single word’s about who’s been doing what to you.” 
“Just before,” you say. “Spencer, it’s just a kiss. And you like them, don’t you?” 
Your laugh turns to panicked giggling as Spencer squeezes your thigh. 
It’s sort of nice. If you weren’t his sister, Hotch might say it was romantic, or at the least, earnestly human. But you are his sister, and this is ridiculous, you knew he was coming over. 
He clears his throat loudly and opens the door. 
You, to your credit, look immediately embarrassed, and Spencer —honestly, he looks like he’s going to throw up, careful as he climbs off of you but rough the moment you’re no longer touching. 
“Hotch!” Spencer says, “I–”
“You knew I was coming,” Aaron says. 
You check your watch. The breath you let out is steam. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking at the time.” 
“I see.” 
“This is embarrassing.” 
You stand up. When you pull your t-shirt back down, Aaron wonders if he might be better off transferring Spencer to a foreign department. But then you give Aaron one of your I’m so sorry please don’t be mad looks and he decides to let it go. You weren’t even kissing, just talking about them as you play-fought or whatever it was. If anything, Spencer was being gentlemanly. 
Well, perhaps he shouldn’t go that far. “Come on, then. This car won’t pick itself up.” 
Spencer can barely look at him as he stands. “Uh, thanks again, Hotch. For taking us.” 
“I think this one falls under older brother duties, Reid.” 
“Okay. Sorry.” 
He takes a long breath. “You should be.” 
You jab Aaron in the arm, “Stop.” 
“What?” he asks, failing to hide his smirk. 
“You know what, stop being mean. Remember that time I walked in on you and Haley in the hot tub at–”
“Enough. Do you want to go get this car or not?” 
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thebctman · 1 day ago
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Rewatching the show has given me a whole new perspective 3 years later. And one fundamental moment that I have an entirely new perception of is Viktor’s run. I truly believe it is the most important moment of Viktor’s story.
Not only because it underscores Viktor’s need for the hexcore but also because it fundamentally contrast Jayce’s inability to understand Viktor’s desires until the end of season 2.
Viktor is able to walk without support, to run. He is able to not just keep up with, but outrun the boat in the background of the bridge scene. The first moment of Viktor’s childhood we see is him try to keep up with the toy boat he made and set across the river. Viktor fails because of his disability and later him being able to do what his past self could not is an incredibly exhilarating feeling.
Jayce is the epitome of strength. He is a builder, a forger and a worker. He is loud, he is strong and unshaken. He is the personification of a hammer, always striking to leave an impact.
Jayce in his privilege, does not know what it’s like to be able to walk without support, to be able to live without the fear of having a countdown in your lungs due toxic fumes in your home.
And it is with this privilege Jayce does not understand how monumental it is for Viktor to want the hexcore destroyed. It is his one chance of freedom and he wanted it gone. Jayce does not understand this until it was too late.
Viktor was born waiting. He has always been waiting. Waiting for a chance to breathe, to live and to have a legacy. Viktor waits and waits to see if the Hexcore will him and it is that longing that binds his soul to the Hexcore.
Jayce does not understand this longing until Viktor is almost taken from him. He waits for him to return back to him but Viktor can wait no longer. Jayce is always a little too late when it comes to Viktor until the finale.
And it is in the finale where Jayce finally understands that makes it all more personal. That the Glorious Evolution comes from Viktor’s fear and his want.
The verbalization of his love for Viktor was incredible. That his imperfections were what he loved about him. That when he hallucinated Victor over that fire, Viktor had his cane with him. That Viktor can no longer wait yes, but Jayce can go with him. He can be there and chose him.
I now understand on a personal level what that scene means and what it meant to Viktor to not just be able to walk without support but to run.
I’ve been dealing with a knee injury for over half a year that has me unable to walk properly or even climb a single step without a brace. I don’t think it’s getting any better and I hope one day I have a bridge scene as well. I would do anything to be able to run again without pain, to wake up without pain.
To see that all verbalized on Viktor’s face was incredibly bittersweet and I don’t if I could give up the Hexcore if I was able to do that. This moment underscores Viktor’s resilience, his personal strength and his want.
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cheer-nympho · 3 days ago
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Steve had been conned into chaperoning the kids to a ren faire.
Admittedly with very little resistance, but he was keeping that to himself. Once there and with their bags packed away into some apparently theme appropriate tents he had shrugged on some medieval casual clothes and…immediately lost track of all of them,
But a figure he did spot was a long haired Jester entertaining a small entourage with juggling,
Steve finds himself laughing slightly condescendingly at the jingling man. Why do people find juggling so impressive?
He picked it up straight away with some hackey sacks while bored between practices. He’s just good with his hands.
When he looks back up to get another glance in however, the jester isn’t perched on top of his little rock anymore and the crowd has merged with the other dweebs.
Steve stares at the empty space for a moment before a jingle right by his ear spooks him into turning around.
“Art thou not impressed by my amazing skills, your lordship?” The jester asks, swaying on his feet and causing the bells all over him to ping, grin wide and mocking.
And up close Steve notices one very important, very dangerous thing.
This court jester is really fucking hot.
He looks like an idiot, a nerd, a dweeb. Its hard not to in a pointy hat. But he also wore it too well, looked too perfect like that.
Steve notices the…is that..? Yes, the corset wrapping tightly around the mans waist, red and black diamonds decorating the sides and leading to small puffy shorts. His legs are covered in tight black leggings which should look ridiculous. It should.
An obnoxious cough and head tilt-jingle make Steve aware that he has been staring at the mans waist for way longer than was ‘bro code permitted’
He looks up with a wince, expecting a look of disgust ranging from mild embarrassment to punch-your-lights-out.
He was, instead, greeted by a smug and knowing smile. The red and black triangles painted over the mans eyes warped where the grin reached them. “Or maybe thou art impressed, but skills are not what draw thine eyes.”
Shit. Fuck. The stupid hot nerd is using stupid nerd speak on him. And Steves stupid nerd, apparently ‘very accurate’ pants are getting tighter. He needs to say something. Anything.
“You’ve got…bells.” Okay, maybe not anything. He used to be better at this shit.
He is rewarded with a wild, joyous laugh as the jester throws his head from side to side. “I do! Isn’t it amazing?The staff insisted on it so they could hear me coming.”
“It certainly makes an impression-“
“Eddie, names Eddie. And what does my lordship go by?”
“Steve is fine.”
“That he is…” The comment was punctuated by a less than subtle glance, almost a leer. “However, Fine Steve seems unimpressed with my merrymaking. As the official court jester, I cannot let that stand.” He stamps his foot, causing another cacophony of jingles.” “Therefore…”
“…Pick a card any card!” A pack of standard cards was presented to him with a flourish, but all he could do was roll his eyes.
“Come on, really? This shit is basic. All I have to do it watch your hands. You’ll swipe my card out and put it back in later, or mark it somehow.”
“Ooo his highness has it all figured out doesn’t he. Well then, princess, you have nothing to lose by picking a card, do you?” And that was…true. Plus he could maybe try to fix his previous fumble and try to claw a number out of this disaster.
So with another bitchy roll of his eyes, Steve plucks a card from the deck and hides it behind his palm. Two of Hearts.
Then out of nowhere… “You know, Stevie, if you think I’m pretty you can just tell me. I know the kingdom would approve not of a noble like yourself marrying a commoner like me, but they need know little of how we…” He begins to reshuffle the cards, motioning for Steve to place his chosen one back in before making some very obvious, very crude movements with his fingers. “…get to know each other in the meantime.”
He was going to die. In the middle of a nerd fest.
“Well, my lord…” Eddie continues, circling him while dragging a finger across his arms and shoulder blades before coming to a stop in front of him. A very bold hand takes Steves jaw and forces his head up, pretending to inspect something on his costume for any bystanders.
“If you would like some more…close up demonstrations…” He leans in tightly, still holding Steve’s jaw in a tight grip. “You can pay me a visit in staff cabin 23 tonight.” He strokes a piece of hair gently behind Steve’s ear before pulling out a card, as if from said ear.
Steve was glad that Eddie took the initiative to carefully pull his hand up and place the card into his palm, because currently Steve was too preoccupied with staring like a fish out of water into Eddies eyes. Everything about him was just so captivating, so alive.
Maybe that’s why he did little more than step forward aimlessly, with small grabby hands when Eddie pulled away. Before Steve could even process it, the bells and jingles had mingled back into the crowd. But that was…that was okay. Cause he could go to the…cabin?
But how was he supposed to- Oh. He looks down. On the card was a loosely clipped room key with a ‘23’ crudely engraved into the edge as if by a pocket knife.
The card itself, to his horror, was the Two of Hearts.
Shit.
He forgot to watch the fucking hands.
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smileysuh · 3 days ago
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sage & stardust
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🌙 starring. Kim Mingyu x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. “I think you’re amazing, and good with your hands, and pretty, and I enjoy spending time with you too,” he counters, echoing the entirety of your sentiment. You stare blankly up at the man. It’s clear he doesn’t know what you’re getting at. You wonder how fairies court each other- do they even court each other? Do fairies have sex? Or are they just… you don’t know, blossomed out of flower buds or something?
tw/cw. Unprotected sex, Mingyu holds y/n down by the wrists, size kink, mentions of possible bondage kink, heavy petting, worship, Mingyu is a boobs guy, nipple sucking, fingering, pussy stretching, foreplay, multiple reader orgasms, oral (f receiving), praise, dirty talk, etc… I pet names: (hers) my star. (his) Gyu.  
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 9.6k
🍭 aus. Fairy au, fantasy au, non idol. 
☀️ mlist + an. Okay, so, I’ve written sooo many fics on this blog, and lately I’ve been wanting to try things I haven’t done before. I’ve never done a legit small man fairy dude (who does become normal/large sized later) x yn in a fic before, so bare with me, because these two are such a delightfully domestic pairing. Without further adieu, I give you: blue-collar fairy Mingyu. 
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Prologue
Pandora lives in a little cottage in the forest. Even though she’s young, she knows the trees and ferns, the mushrooms and flowers. Who needs mundane playthings when you have four entire acres of wilderness to keep you entertained? 
Her mother is an artist, and steady hands run in the family. Pandora spends her evenings carefully painting a dollhouse model of the cottage that her father had crafted for her in his little workshop shed outside.
All in all, it’s a peaceful existence, and things are very predictable. Mother is in the studio solarium room, fingers covered in inks and colorful spots. Father is crafting something in his shed, fixing up the house as he engages in an endless war against the elements of the forest. 
Pandora flutters around, checking in on her parents, and exploring the immediate grounds around the cottage. Today, she’s following a particularly beautiful butterfly as it glides amongst the trees down by the pond. She’s so enamored with the pretty wings, that she almost doesn’t notice the fairy ring. 
A circle of mushrooms, one she’s scouted out before, is along the bank of the murky water. Pandora has heard tales of fairies and pixies, and has been warned not to enter circles like this. She sidesteps the ring, and that’s when she notices something out of place, something that hadn’t been there yesterday.
Just outside of the little circle, is a small creature. At first glance, the glossy wings look butterfly-like, but Pandora has never seen sage green wings like these on a bug. The small child pauses, hiking up her dress and kneeling down to get a better look.
Definitely not a butterfly. Where an insect would have a thorax at the joining of wings, this creature has a tiny little man. Well, he’s bigger than a butterfly would be, but it’s clear to the young girl that she’s looking at a fairy, and as she inspects him further, she notices one of his wings is torn.
Pandora has mended butterfly wings with her father before- she knows what to do, but she’s hesitant. Should she help this small fairy, as she’s helped many bugs before him? Is he simply resting and not in immediate danger?
She looks around, noting any predators in the surrounding area. A large bird circles overhead, and Pandora decides she has to act. Reaching for a leaf, she scoops the tiny fairy's body into the greenery, carefully carrying him back toward the cottage.
As she gets there, she sees her father getting into his work truck to head to town, and Pandora knows better than to stop him. She also knows better than to go interrupt her mother, who is on a deadline for a piece and has asked not to be disturbed.
No, Pandora will have to do this rescue mission herself, and she heads into her father’s workshop to find the glue.
She does her best to be gentle, even with her pudgy fingers, as she mends the torn wing. When she’s done, Pandora finds one of the many small boxes her father has made. It’s a cedar box, with a small, iron latch.
Leaving the fairy, she goes outside, collecting a little nest of moss to put into the box.
When everything is finished, she sets the fairy into the box, carefully closing it and latching it shut. He needs some rest, and as far as the small child is concerned, he’s safer in her little box than lying in the grass where big predators might hurt him.
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One:
“I’m sure it’s no surprise that your grandmother left you the cottage,” the lawyer in charge of the estate tells you as he looks over the papers on his desk. “As you are the only artist in the family, Pandora wrote that she hopes the solace will inspire, as it had inspired her, and her mother before her.”
You nod solemnly. It’s a monumental gift, one your cousins would kill you for- but alas, you’d spent the most time with your grandmother in her later days, and the solarium studio is already set up as your own. To be young, and a homeowner now- this had never been your intention in spending time with her, but perhaps it’s a happy outcome, given the dire situation of her passing.
“She also wanted me to tell you, that you can finally open the box.” The lawyer looks at you expectantly, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Do you know what she was referring to?”
“Yes,” you respond. “She’d kept this small cedar box. Her father had made it for her when she was a child. It’s on her nightstand, but she’s never opened it.”
“Well, that’s… interesting.”
“Yeah, Pandora’s Box, I know the story,” you let out a sad chuckle. “Part of me doesn’t want to open it, she always told me not to, I guess I made it this big bad thing in my head as a kid.”
“I’m sure it’s just jewelry or something of the sort,” the lawyer assures you, and you remind yourself that men of the law are never the superstitious type.
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Two:
You’re a few glasses deep into your bottle of wine, and you find yourself looking at your grandmother’s small cedar box. Curiosity is getting the better of you, and liquid courage is doing wonders to calm your superstitions. 
There can’t be anything dangerous in the box, or your grandma wouldn’t have left it for you… right?
Taking a breath, you approach the box. It’s sitting on your dining room table, you’d gingerly carried it from the bedroom earlier, with the intention of opening it, and now, you will. 
You sit, staring at it for a few moments. Your hands shake when you reach for it, but you push away your anxiety. The iron latch is old and worn, but it clicks open after a bit of work. Taking another deep breath, you lift the cedar lid. 
Nothing happens, no surge of dark spirits releasing the worst of humanity, no hurricane or pestilence-
You lean forward, looking into the box, and you’re shocked by what you find there.
Half buried in a nest of mossy greens that looked like they were only picked hours ago, is a small winged man. It’s a fairy, you realize, with glossy wings-
He stirs a little, stretching his arms above his head and yawning.
How could this be? Ignoring the moss that’s apparently been preserved for over seventy years, how is this tiny creature still alive after being shut away for a lifetime?
Part of you wants to close the box, to forget about it- but then the tiny man’s eyes open, and he stares up at you. You freeze immediately, as if paralyzed, your mind going blank in the face of the supernatural.
The fairy rubs his eyes, sitting up amongst the bed of moss. His hair is all messy, but in a way that’s kind of adorable. He gazes up at you, and then, he speaks. “Hello?”
“Hi?” It comes out a question, and you’re unsure how to proceed, so you say nothing else.
“Sorry, this is embarrassing,” he laughs, and you note the way his skin has turned pink. “Did you save me?”
“As horrible as this sounds, I uh… inherited you?”
“I don’t even know what that means,” the tiny man muses. “I remember being attacked by a large bird in my realm, my wing was damaged, I made my way to a fairy ring to come to your world and recuperate, but I must have passed out.”
You consider his words for a moment. “My grandma used to fix butterfly wings, is it possible she found you and fixed yours?”
The fairy extends one of his sage appendages, inspecting it. “It definitely looks repaired… Your grandma, you said?”
“Yes.” You nod. “I was told she’d had this box since she was a girl… have you been in here for a long time?”
“I was in hibernation, the dark and the moss- it was healing, I awoke because of the light.”
“So you have been in there for years,” you conclude, shocked. “I’m… I’m so sorry.”
“How many years is ‘years?’ You humans have a different view of time than I do.”
“Probably seventy or eighty?” you suggest.
“It didn’t feel like that long.” He cocks his head to the side, clearly thinking, then he looks up at you again. “How long have you had me?”
“I uh…” you swallow thickly at the question. “Well, I just inherited the cottage, and my grandma left the box to me in her will too… so, only two days.”
He nods, looking down, continuing to think hard about whatever it is that fairies ponder deeply on. 
“How… how do you feel?”
“Well rested,” he smiles, breaking the look of deep concentration. “I’m ready to get back to tinkering.”
Tinkering… that definitely sounds like a fairy word, and you don’t question him further. 
“Please don’t let me stop you from getting back to your home,” you tell him. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience of my grandmother keeping you in this box all this time.”
“It’s alright,” he yawns again, then pushes himself up from the moss. He’s dressed in a little green fairy outfit, and you do your best to commit him to your memory. His wings are truly beautiful, the way they shimmer even in the electric light of your kitchen. “I remember a pond.”
“Yes, there’s one right out the back way, must be a fairy circle there,” you nod.
“Thank you for the directions,” he smiles sincerely, and then, he begins to fly. You wonder how such delicate-looking wings could carry his body weight as he heads toward your open kitchen window. He lands on the ledge there, turning to give you one final nod of farewell, and then the fairy is gone.
You sit there for a few minutes, staring after him in shock.
How much wine did you have to drink?
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Three:
It’s a Thursday like any other. You’re getting used to living in this cute cottage in the woods, spending your mornings waking up with the sun, heating a kettle for tea, and letting the creative juices flow in your mind before you ease your way to the studio to paint.
It’s the end of spring, and the promise of summer warmth is looming on the horizon. 
You’re just beginning to contemplate breakfast when there’s a knock at your door, and it makes your heart freeze in your chest.
Although you might be getting somewhat accustomed to the seclusion, there are still very real dangers of being a single woman out on a large property alone in the woods, and this fact makes you hesitant as you head to your front door.
You can make out a large man through the glass, and you take a breath before peaking your head out. “Hello?”
It takes you a moment to recognize the man, as he’s substantially larger than the last time you saw him. The fairy is no longer palm-sized, instead, he’s well over six foot, and he flashes an awkward smile down at you. “Hi.”
You take in his attire, the worn jeans and the green flannel… you also note that he’s barefooted. “You’re wearing my grandpa's clothes.”
“Yeah, I uh… noticed the box in your truck, figured you might be getting rid of them anyways, so I slipped in through a crack in the window. I couldn’t just show up naked.”
Good point. “You’re big now,” you point out.
“Can I uh… can I come in?” He rubs the back of his neck nervously, surveying your front porch.
You take a breath. Part of you says this is a bad idea, but part of you is also saying that this is a fairy the size of a human man, and if you don’t hear him out, you’ll be wondering what could have been for the rest of your life.
You push your door open for him. “I just made some tea, follow me.”
The fairy’s footsteps are loud on your wooden floors as he shadows you to the kitchen. You give him your cup, pouring a second one for yourself before leaning back against your sink. 
“I don’t even know where to start,” the fairy sighs, taking a seat at your small dining table. He cups his large hands around the mug of tea, as if warming himself.
“Well, I’m y/n,” you tell him.
He smiles thankfully. “Mingyu.”
“Nice to meet you again, Mingyu, how about you tell me how you’re human-sized and your wings are gone?”
“Fairies can transform. In my own realm, keeping my smaller shape is easier, but here- it takes less energy to just… blend in. It’s a sort of, um, adaptation, for survival, I guess.” 
“It doesn’t make sense how you can go from tiny to massive,” you point out.
“Well, you see, I’m big for a fairy,” Mingyu laughs nervously. “It’s part of the reason I never fit in that well with others of my kind.”
You frown at his words, giving him the space to continue.
“Yeah, so anyways, I went back home, and I had been gone a while, and it just felt weird. I hadn’t fit in before, and I didn’t fit in when I got back, and I guess I just figured… you’re a girl, and you’re here alone, in the forest- I mentioned I’m a tinkerer right? I fix things? Was thinking maybe I could help fix up your place.”
Is he seriously offering to fix your house? You stare at him in shock. “I’ve never really thought about fairies being blue-collared.”
“Blue-collared?” he looks down at his flannel in confusion.
“Never mind, it’s uh, it’s a phrase, it means you’re a worker, you do building and stuff.”
“I’m really good at building and fixing things,” he nods solemnly. 
“So… you want to stay here with me? Room, board, food… in return, you’ll fix up the cottage?” you clarify.
“I guess.”
You study him. “I’ve heard about pixies and fairies who try to lure people into fairy rings-”
“It’s not like that, I promise.” He meets your gaze. “Look, what if I fix your little shed workshop thing, show you what I can do, and you can decide later?”
You consider it for a moment. “I guess that could work, but first, you’ll need some workboots.”
“If you think that’s best.”
God, he probably does most of his tinkering while fairy-sized and barely wearing clothes… which isn’t something you want to think about.
Setting your tea down, you head to one of the back closets, where you’d stashed away a few of your grandfather’s possessions, the important things, unlike the donation box currently in your truck.
You find Mingyu some shoes, and when you go give them to him, he flashes you a smile and heads outside to get to work. 
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Four:
You’re doing your best to focus on painting, but your solarium gives you a perfect view of your grandfather's old work shed, where Mingyu is currently tinkering around. 
He’s fast, and it’s clear he knows what he’s doing.
Your grandfather’s shed has a whole stash of tools, shingles, and wood, and Mingyu has already redone the roof, ripped a few worn boards off to replace them along the sides, and completed general tidying work.
He’s even weed-whacked the tall grass around the workstation, and as lunch turns into evening, he comes back from the woods with a small tree on his shoulder, which he then begins to chop for firewood.
You can definitely see how he’d be helpful to have around… and you can afford to feed him if he’s going to fix up your home. He’s probably already done a couple hundred dollars of work, maybe even a thousand- work that you’d been meaning to hire someone to deal with once you’d settled in a little more. 
You get started on dinner. You’d planned on rice bowls, and it’s easy enough to make a plate for him. Then, you go outside, calling him toward you.
Mingyu’s sweaty, and he’s got some sawdust on his jeans- but God, does he look handsome and chipper.
“I made dinner,” you tell him.
He nods, smiling before following you inside. You note the way he takes off his boots at your door, brushing off his pants, careful not to bring any dirt into your otherwise tidy house.
The two of you sit down to eat, and he’s extremely verbal about how thankful he is for the food, and how good it tastes-
You come up with an avenue of discussion to distract him from his praises. “What would you living here entail?”
He pauses. “I hadn’t thought too hard about it.”
“I feed you, you do work, you live here?”
“Something like that.”
“How long do you keep your human shape?”
Mingyu takes a breath, setting down his spoon. “I’ll be honest with you, whether you see it this way or not, your grandmother saved me. I was wounded, I came to your realm, anything could have gotten me, but your grandma saved me, glued my wing, and kept me safe so I could hibernate and heal. I owe your family. My home isn’t my home anymore, please let me help you make this cottage your home.”
“No, I-” you release the tension in your shoulders, “you can stay, but, seriously, how long do you keep your human shape?”
“Is it a space thing?” Mingyu looks around. “I can be small when I sleep if it’s a space thing-”
“I mean, my grandma has a replica doll house of the cottage that her dad made for her, was going to offer that up for you.” It’s meant to be a joke, but Mingyu takes it completely seriously, nodding diligently. 
“That works, I just have to go collect some moss to make a bed-”
“Are you being for real?” you ask, blinking at him.
“I should probably go back to my normal size when I sleep, it makes sense and takes up less space,” Mingyu nods.
“If you change your mind, I do have a spare bedroom.” 
“Nope,” the man-sized fairy shakes his head, “the doll house works.”
“Well… if you want to go get some moss, I can grab the box of clothes from my truck,” you suggest.
“Let’s do it.” Mingyu is so easy, he just agrees to everything. 
Soon the two of you are reconvening at your front door, you with a box, him with a palm full of moss. “The doll house is in the studio, I was planning to paint it.” Mingyu follows you to the solarium. In the dark of the evening, you have to turn on the fairy lights you’d strung up, and Mingyu lets out a breath.
Even you have to admit the space has ambiance. The solarium studio is a lovely part of the house, your favorite in fact, although, tonight, you’re feeling a little shy about your art strewn about.
“Did you paint all of these?” Mingyu asks, approaching your most recent work.
“Yeah, they’re uh, abstracts,” you explain. “I mean, I gather a lot of inspiration from nature, but it’s more a feeling than a specific thing that I like to paint, if that makes any sense.”
“It does,” Mingyu nods, leaning down to get a better look at your art. 
“My grandma, she uh, she was an artist too, and so was her mother, and she gave me the house because she knew I needed inspiration-”
“Maybe that’s why she gave you me too.”
Your heart lurches in your chest, and you blink up at the tall man. “Uh… maybe.”
“So this cottage has a long line of artists and tinkerers,” Mingyu concludes.
“The line ended in my mother’s generation,” you sigh.
“That’s not true.” Mingyu looks down at you. “We’re here now.”
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Five:
You wake up feeling as refreshed and well-rested as ever. It’s odd how much of a difference having a male presence in the house can make, even if he was the size of your palm while you were sleeping. 
You’ve been here over a month, but you’ve not yet gotten used to the seclusion, the feeling of being alone. Mingyu is an unexpected comfort, and you quietly tiptoe to your solarium to see if he’s awake.
The nest of moss in the dollhouse is empty, and you move to your kitchen, getting a kettle started before looking out the window. Mingyu’s lumbering around in the tree line. He’s dressed in a white shirt and blue jeans, and damn does it look good.
You turn on some music, quietly making breakfast for two while trying to fight the urge to watch the beautiful man.
You’d slept in more than normal, another byproduct of feeling safe, and due to that, by the time you’re taking two plates of food outside, the temperature of the late spring air is already warming with the noon sun.
“Mingyu,” you call, finding him by the workshed, “breakfast!”
He bounds over like a puppy, and you set the plates down on a small circular table. The metal lawn set can be a bit rough, and you’ve tried to soften it with comfy pillows. Mingyu doesn’t seem to mind as he plops down, grabbing the bacon sandwich you’d prepared.
“Smells delicious,” he tells you, taking the largest bite of food you’ve ever seen.
You watch him, amused. “Did you get up early?”
“Yeah, I don’t need much sleep. Just spent eighty years sleeping, or so you tell me.” Mingyu smiles at you, a tight-lipped smile to hide the food in his mouth, you’re sure. 
“It’s a nice day,” you sigh, leaning back in your chair and looking at the world around you.
The sun is out, it’s a little cold, but the sky is clear. Dew drops are in the last stages of evaporation, clinging to the green strands of grass along the hillside area that leads down to the pond.
“Every day is a good day for tinkering,” Mingyu agrees. “Which, I meant to ask- is there anything you wanted me to do?” 
“Uh… like what?”
“I’ll finish the shed soon,” Mingyu promises. “I already have ideas about extending it, but, if you wanted me to paint the house, fix anything inside that’s a little wonky and in need of tinkering-”
“I think you should focus on the shed, if you want to extend it, you should.” For some reason, you’re apprehensive about him coming into the house just yet- you need to… acclimatize to his presence, and right now, having a wall of glass between the two of you is keeping your heart from exploding every time you look at him. “Do you uh… do you need anything to build your addition?”
“Your grandfather kept a lot of tools, nails, screws- and we’re surrounded by trees. He had loads of extra shingles, enough for years of repairs to the cottage and the shed.” Mingyu smiles at you. “I think I’ll manage… but, when it comes time to paint it, maybe we could paint it together?”
“Maybe.” You can feel your skin heating at the idea. “Anyways, I wanted to bring you some food, now I’ve gotta go inside my studio and get to work.”
“Sounds good, tinkering calls, thanks for breakfast.” Mingyu pushes the last massive bite of his sandwich into his mouth before standing up.
He nods to you and then you watch him go, sneaking a look at his butt before you tear your eyes away.
This could either be the best idea of your life, or the worst. 
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Six:
Mingyu had taken his time with the shed. He’d made it twice the size, and added more windows that your grandfather had left sitting around in the original structure- it’s crazy how much he’s accomplished using only the things that are left over and semi discarded.
Then, Mingyu had taken to restoring the inside. He’d spent two days just moving stuff around, tidying and dusting- and another day just cutting wood to fill up his firewood stash. 
Now, a week after showing up at your door, he’s finally come inside to begin tinkering with old hinges and loose screws. He’s going over every inch of your cottage to make sure it’s up to his fairy standards, and you’re extremely aware of him, especially when he makes it to the solarium to begin to work.
The french doors have been a little off for years, one hinge is a little wonky- and it’s hard to focus on your painting while Mingyu’s standing there and fiddling- or, scratch that, tinkering. 
“Watcha working on?” Mingyu asks, and you suppose he must have caught you staring.
“Oh, uh… it’s a new project, and starting is always the hardest part.”
Mingyu comes around your easel, looking at the new blank canvas you had pulled out just an hour ago.
“Do you have any ideas?” he questions.
“I mean… one or two.”
Mingyu cocks his head at you. “Tell me.”
You release a deep sigh. “I guess… I was wondering if maybe… maybe I could paint your wings sometime, in an abstract sort of way.”
Mingyu is quiet for a few moments, and you immediately try to backpedal, but he stops you. “No, it’s okay, sorry, I was just- I’ve never been someone’s muse before.”
“You haven’t?”
He shakes his head. “In uh… where I come from, my wings aren’t exactly that extraordinary.” 
“Really?” you ask in shock.
“Yeah, they’re just green. I know a lot of fairies with all sorts of colored wings, pinks, purples- every color of the rainbow. Green is… well, it’s bland, it’s like everything else in the forest.”
You can’t believe what you’re hearing. “You seem to forget that I came to the forest for inspiration- the greens here are beautiful. If I remember correctly, your wings are like… sage and stardust.”
“Sage and stardust,” Mingyu repeats, his voice like a whisper. He cracks a smile. “I like that.”
“So you’ll let me paint them?”
“If it would make you happy.”
“It would.”
“Then yes, you can paint by wings.”
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Seven:
Mingyu’s continued his daily tinkerings, but now, your evenings are spent in your solarium. You’d found one of your grandmother’s magnifying glasses, the type she used for butterfly wing repair, and Mingyu is the perfect muse, sitting patiently and letting you inspect him.
You’d spent half an hour just trying to get the color of his wings right, and now, you’re doing long brush strokes against the cream canvas. You’d found some glitter too, and while Mingyu spends most of the time sitting on your shoulder while you’re painting, he also offers to douse his hands in sparkles and do the small details for you.
It’s odd, thirsting for this large, beefy man during the day, only for him to downsize and nuzzle into your hair at night- he’s still so cute as a fairy, and his wings are truly beautiful.
“You see me like this?” Mingyu asks, fluttering off your shoulder to gaze at the painting. He’s so small in comparison to the large canvas. “These are really my wings?” 
“They’re beautiful, Gyu,” you tell him, giving him a nickname without a second thought.
“Gyu,” Mingyu repeats, turning to look at you. “I like that.”
You hold out your paint brush, and he flutters over to it, balancing on the wooden handle.
It’s crazy how you’re already getting used to him- to the little things, Mingyu included. 
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Eight:
It’s gotten to the point where Mingyu wants to paint the shed, so the two of you decide to head into town together. It’s a small population, and you know that the sight of the two of you is raising a few eyebrows as you enter the paint store.
Mingyu sticks out, not only for his size, but his beauty as well. He truly is stunning, and you notice multiple women staring as the two of you wander around the store.
“So what coloring are you thinking?” Mingyu asks, heading to a wall of paint swatches. 
“I mean… I just sort of figured we’d repaint it to match the house again?” you suggest.
“Well… it’s your house now,” Mingyu points out. “What are your dream colors?”
“My dream colors?”
“Yeah, I promised you I’d help you make it your dream home, didn’t I?” 
Your heart melts as you stare up at this gorgeous man. He has such a soft heart, you can’t believe how much you care for him after only two weeks, how much he clearly cares for you- but you try not to read into it too deeply. 
You turn to look at the paint swatches, truly considering what your dream home would look like.
You choose a pallet, showing it to Mingyu, and he nods. “This will be great.”
The two of you go to get the paint, and soon, you’re back in your truck. You try to play the radio, but it doesn’t drown out your thoughts, so you turn the music down.
“Did you notice how many people were looking at you today?” you ask.
“Hmm?” Mingyu tears his gaze from the trees moving by.
“Girls, a lot were staring.”
“Were you staring?” 
You flash a glimpse at Mingyu and find him grinning at you… is there a mutual attraction here? Does he like you the way you like him?
Things are just so easy. Choosing paint with him for your house, letting him make your house your dream house- it all just feels so domestic, not to mention the fact that you generally don’t like people watching you work on your art, but you feel comfortable with him.
“I, uh… yeah, I look at you, we’re friends.” You cough, forcing your eyes back to the road.
“Close friends,” Mingyu confirms.
You turn the radio back up, and Mingyu looks out at the trees again, but he doesn’t stop smiling, and your heart doesn’t stop racing either.
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Nine:
It’s hard to sleep. You can’t help but think about the car ride with Mingyu earlier. 
He has to be attracted to you… right?
He’s been more touchy during your late-night painting sessions, and less afraid to cuddle up in your hair. You’ve noticed him watching you too… often when you look at him, you catch his gaze already on you.
Cohabitation with a man as fine as he is- well, you know where it leads, and you’re a little shocked you’ve gotten this far without breaking first.
You toss and turn in your bed, groaning.
God, when was the last time you were this horny?
Can you… can you touch yourself with him right downstairs? Is that weird? What if he catches you? Mingyu said it himself, he doesn’t sleep much- and… is his hearing better as a fairy? You don’t actually know much about his abilities when he has wings… maybe these are things you should ask.
You let out a sigh, bringing your hand to your breast through your sleeping shirt. In no time at all, your nipple is pebbled against your touch. You release another breath, closing your eyes and thinking about Mingyu. 
You search through your memories, deciding to focus on the thought of him chopping wood. God, in his little tank top, his muscles all bulging and glorious- the way his sweat begins to drip, making the fabric stick to his skin, showing off his abdominal muscles-
You can feel your pussy getting wet, and you begin to glide a hand down between your legs-
You stop, opening your eyes. Fuck, you can’t do this. It feels dirty, sinful- and not in a fun flirty way. 
This isn’t something that you can continue with- you can’t keep feeling this way. You have to tell Mingyu how you feel. If it ruins everything then it ruins everything, but you can’t keep this cohabitation agreement up if you’re falling in love with the man- or, should you say, fairy.
God, maybe you should have never opened Pandora’s Box. It wasn’t a flurry of chaos, not one you could see anyway, but you’re beginning to feel chaotic inside, and coming clean to Mingyu is the only way to get it settled. 
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Ten:
When you wake up the next morning, you move slowly. You have a shower, make some tea, and then, after going through an internal script numerous times, you decide to go outside to tell Mingyu how you feel. 
He’s been painting the shed all morning, that much is obvious from how much he’s completed- and to make matters worse for yourself, he’s shirtless.
You almost turn and go right back inside, but instead, you pull up your big girl panties, taking a few deep breaths.
You have to do this, you’ll regret it if you don’t- just as you knew you’d regret it if you hadn’t let Mingyu inside a few weeks ago to hear him out.
“Gyu?” you call.
“Oh, hi!” he waves, and you watch paint splatter everywhere from the brush in his hand. “Oops!” 
God, he’s so- he’s so- he’s a big dork, in the best way possible.
You watch Mingyu wipe his hand across his abdomen, clearing the splatter stain there. “Had to take my shirt off, painting isn’t my strong suit sometimes,” he explains, putting the brush back into the can before he approaches you. “What’s up?”
Suddenly, everything you’d planned to say to him just disappears from your mind.
“Are you thirsty?” you ask, voice cracking.
“Could use some water,” he nods.
“Come inside,” you instruct, tearing your gaze away from Mingyu’s perfect body to lead him back into your cottage.
He follows you like a good boy, taking his boots off on your deck before joining you in the kitchen where you have a cup of water waiting for him. 
Your hand is practically shaking as you give him the cup, and he looks you up and down, an expression of concern appearing on his face. “You alright?”
“Yeah.” You swallow thickly, shaking your head. “Just… a little jittery.”
“Is there something on your mind?” Mingyu questions, taking a sip of his water.
God, he’s still shirtless, and it’s as if he doesn’t even realize it! It’s as if being half naked in your kitchen is the most normal thing in the world to him!
You take a deep breath, doing your best to hype yourself up. “I like you,” you say finally.
“I like you too,” Mingyu grins.
“No, I… I like like you.” 
“Like like?” he repeats, cocking his head to the side in confusion. 
“As in… I think you’re really amazing and good with your hands, and you’re handsome, and I enjoy spending time with you,” you blurt. 
“I think you’re amazing, and good with your hands, and pretty, and I enjoy spending time with you too,” he counters, echoing the entirety of your sentiment. 
You stare blankly up at the man. It’s clear he doesn’t know what you’re getting at. You wonder how fairies court each other- do they even court each other? Do fairies have sex? Or are they just… you don’t know, blossomed out of flower buds or something?
“Mingyu,” you take another very deep breath, stepping closer to him. “I feel for you, in here.” You put your hand over his heart, looking up at him, searching his brown eyes for some form of recognition, of understanding. 
Mingyu’s lips part, and his gaze shifts to your hand, then, he slowly places his own over yours. His palm is warm, and he squeezes you gently. “Are you saying you love me?” he asks.
You blink… it feels like he’s skipping a few steps here. You love him as a friend, and you’re attracted to him, but you’re not… in love with him, not yet anyway. 
“I-” You swallow thickly and decide to just be honest. “I think… things could be heading that way, with some more time.”
“More time?” Mingyu frowns a little. “Humans can be weird.”
“We can?” you laugh. “What’s love like for you?”
“Fairies don’t do anything halfway. We feel intensely, more so than humans I think.”
“Have you…” you cough. “Have you ever been in love before?”
“No.”
“So… how do you know what you’re feeling right now is love?”
“I know it because I would do anything for you. Just being near you makes me happy. I want to protect you, and provide for you- I’d give up my wings for you. I choose you over any of my own kind, because you understand me and accept me better than my own kind. I don’t need anyone else but you.” 
You don’t know what to say, so you choose not to say anything. Instead, you get on your tiptoes, pressing your lips to his own.
Mingyu freezes for a moment, but then he reciprocates, wrapping his arms around your body to pull you tight to his chest. 
It’s a slow kiss, an exploratory one. It’s soft and gentle and every good thing, but you get the sense you’re going to have to lead the build-up of this. After a few kisses, you lick at his lower lip, and Mingyu responds by opening his mouth, allowing you to deepen the experience. 
His hands grab your hips, and Mingyu pushes you backward until your bum hits the counter, then he lifts you onto it, prompting you to wrap your legs around his hips. 
As you kiss him, there’s a small voice in the back of your mind reminding you that this is a fairy. His original form is small… but as he grinds against you, you realize that what’s inside his pants right now is anything but tiny. 
God, he feels so good- and he’s already shirtless, which gives you the perfect opportunity to graze your hands along his body, teasing the muscle you find there. Mingyu shivers from the contact, breaking the kiss.
He presses his forehead against yours, breathing deeply, and you can feel his heart racing under your palm. 
“Do you want to do this? Even though you don’t love me the way I love you?” He asks.
“I want this, and I do love you Mingyu, I just…”
“You need more time,” he sighs.
“I think… do you remember how you said eighty years felt fast in the box for you? I feel like, you just move faster than I do, and that’s not a bad thing, it’s just… something we have to adjust for.”
“Adjust how?” Mingyu questions, looking down at you as his hands grip your hips harder.
You shrug. “Maybe you’ll just have to be patient with me.”
“Do I have to wait to say ‘I love you’ since you’re waiting?”
You smile up at him. “You can do anything that feels right, Mingyu.”
“This feels right,” Mingyu muses, pulling you closer to the edge of the table so he can grind his denim-clad cock against your core.
“Then do this,” you whisper, cupping his cheek and drawing his lips back to yours. 
Mingyu doesn’t fight it, in fact, he melts into the kiss, and then, his hands are grabbing your thighs and he’s lifting you up.
You grip his strong shoulders, releasing a small squeal of shock- but you refuse to break the kiss as he begins to carry you through your cottage. He knows where your bedroom is, and it’s sweet that he wants your first time to be on an actual mattress- you’d half expected him to bend you over in your kitchen and have his way with you right there, but you suppose that’s not really his style.
You still have so much more to learn about Mingyu, and you’re excited to take your time learning it. 
Mingyu lays you down gently on your bed, and his lips move to your throat. His hands find yours, and your fingers intertwine as he sucks on your sweet spot, making you moan and writhe against the bed beneath him. 
“Fuck,” you groan, brows furrowing from the pleasure already coursing through you. 
Mingyu grins against your throat, and then he begins to descend.
You’re wearing a sleeping shirt and boxers, and Mingyu’s hand is sneaking up the oversized fabric. “Can I take this off you?” he asks, pulling away and swallowing thickly, his gaze fixed on your covered chest.
You nod, but instead of forcing him to do it, you push on your wrist confines, prompting Mingyu to let you go so you can sit up, tearing the shirt off. You’re not wearing a bra, and Mingyu’s pupils blow at the sight.
He leans down, pressing his lips to yours again as he helps you back down to the bed. You relax against the duvet, enjoying the sensation of your bare chests rubbing against each other. Your nipples are pebbled from interest, and each brush of him against you feels like magic, especially when he begins to swivel his hips, grinding down against your pussy.
His mouth begins to move down again, and this time, there’s no fabric to stop him in his tracks. Mingyu’s lips wrap around your nipple, your fingers threading through his hair as you fight the urge to arch your back and moan like a whore in heat.
“Feels good,” you tell him, earning a groan from the large man who sucks on your pebbled bud even harder.
His free hand is on your hip, but soon, it’s rising to massage your neglected breast. His warm palm feels so good- your eyes close in pleasure, your body reacting to Mingyu and the foreplay he’s providing.
You thread your fingers deeper into his curls, gently massaging his scalp while he works you up, teasing you in the best possible way.
He’s clearly solely focused on you, you don’t think there’s an ulterior motive, a motive of getting you to beg or forcing you to wait, you think he’s simply enjoying you, and you love the feeling of being enjoyed in this way.
Even so- now it’s your patience that’s running thin, and you tug at his curls, forcing his mouth away from your breast. He looks up at you with confusion, lips parting in a silent question.
“I need you,” you tell him, swallowing thickly. 
“You have me,” he assures you with a laugh. 
“I mean-”
His hand slips between your thighs, rubbing your pussy through your boxers. “You mean, you need me here,” Mingyu finishes for you.
Fuck, he’s so hot- part of you had expected him to be a virgin fairy who’s never been in love, but it’s clear from his dirty talk that he’s no virgin. 
Your pussy is wet, and you can feel a wet spot to match in your shorts, you’re sure Mingyu can feel it too.
“Since…” Mingyu takes a breath, and you can see his skin beginning to flush a pretty shade of pink, “since I’m the one who likes you more, maybe you’ll let me take my time and do what I want to do? Out of… pity?”
You laugh. “Pity? I don’t pity you- I kind of love you, Gyu, I said that-”
“Just kind of, though,” he points out, leaning down to bite your nipple gently.
You groan, arching your back and taking a deep breath. “Fine. Do whatever you want to me. Take your time. Worship me. Make me fall in love with you.”
Mingyu smiles, and then he whispers a soft, “Thank you,” before diving back toward your chest.
It’s clear that now that you’ve given him permission, he’s in no rush.
He worships your breasts, just like you’d told him to, taking all the time he wants to massage and lick and kiss and bite- and then, one of his hands returns between your legs, pushing your boxers to the side so he can access your dripping pussy.
He’s gentle at first, circling your sensitive clit and teasing your slit up and down. Then, after too much teasing for your tastes, he eases his finger into your tight hole. He’s gentle as he begins to finger fuck you, working you open at a snail's pace-
You think, as someone who time moves fast for, he really must be savoring every long moment of this. He wants to take his time with you, and for a fairy, that means something.
Mingyu’s lips are still wrapped around your nipple, and as he adds a second digit to your core, you think you might just combust.
“Gyu,” you whimper.
He hums in response.
“I’m close,” you tell him, beginning to wiggle your hips against his hand. “I’m so close-”
Mingyu’s palm finds your clit, and he finger fucks you harder, crooking his digits to reach a spot that has your toes curling.
“Oh my god-” you groan, closing your eyes and latching onto Mingyu’s hair as an anchor, keeping his face buried in your tits as he works you closer and closer to the edge-
One graze of his teeth across your nipple has you cumming on his fingers, and Mingyu releases his own sound of pleasure to echo the whimpers escaping your lips.
He’s got you pinned to the bed, there’s nowhere to go, nothing to do except take what he’s giving you.
He works you through your high, allowing you to feel every lick of pleasure as it courses through your entire body-
You’re a gasping mess at the end of it, and Mingyu gingerly removes his fingers from your pussy, pulling away from your chest to sit up on his knees, licking his digits clean as he inspects you carefully.
“Are you okay, my star?” 
You shiver at the nickname, a whispered echo of your pleasure running through you.
“Yeah,” you nod, still trying to catch your breath.
“Was that good for you?” he asks, teasing his wet finger across your nipple and making you shiver again. “It was good for me.”
“It was so good,” you groan, shifting against the bed.
“Good.” Mingyu hooks his fingers in your boxers, tearing them down your legs. 
You’re now completely bare for him, and you expect Mingyu to work on his jeans next, but he doesn’t. He lays down between your thighs, looking up at you as he peppers your skin with chaste kisses.
“Ready for more?” he questions.
You groan, and the groan turns into a laugh. “I guess I told you to do whatever you want to me,” you sigh, adjusting your legs so your feet are flat and your knees are bent, giving him better access to your pussy for what you know is about to come next. 
“You did.” Mingyu’s breath is hot against your still pulsing core, and you grab at the duvet in preparation, knowing he’s about to completely rock your world for a second time. 
Mingyu doesn’t say anything else, he continues to kiss up your thigh, and he doesn’t stop. When he reaches your core, he licks your clit gently, circling it.
You open your eyes, looking down at him to find his own lids are closed. He’s completely focused on pleasuring you, and as he pushes his tongue into your core, lapping at your slit- well, fuck, no thoughts are going through your mind.
You can only whimper, grabbing the duvet tighter, your toes curling deliciously as this man eats you out in a way that no man ever has.
He really is taking his time. It’s clear this isn’t just a duty or a ‘task’ he has to complete in order to fuck you, no, eating you out is as much his pleasure as it is yours, and somehow, that knowledge makes it even better.
You give yourself to the pleasure. There’s no anxiety, no racing thoughts, or pressures you’re imposing on yourself.
You know there’s not a time limit. Mingyu’s not eager to make you cum so he can fuck you, he’s simply enjoying the act of licking your pussy- so you simply enjoy it too.
You’re not keeping track of time, your focus is solely on the pleasure running through you, and the way it’s building.
Soon, you’re at the edge again, and you warn Mingyu, your thighs twitching around his head.
Mingyu groans in response, lips wrapping around your clit. A squeal escapes you, your chest heaving, back arching off the bed as your second orgasm slams into you.
This one is even more electric than the first, and it almost feels like you’re floating off the mattress- like you’re truly ascending to cloud nine, as if you - like Mingyu - have wings.
God, there’s not a feeling like it in the world, especially as Mingyu continues to suck your clit, working you through the most intense high of your entire life. Your legs are fully quaking around him now, your grip like a vice on the duvet.
Thank God you live in the middle of nowhere because you’re aware that you’re being loud. 
Mingyu’s groaning too, his fingers digging into your thighs, keeping you pinned and in place for him to eat you through the pussy contracting pleasure convulsions that are threatening to overtake your entire body in an ecstasy you’ve never, ever experienced before. 
The large man finally lets up, and you gasp, flopping back down against the bed. There are aftershocks of pleasure, and you jolt a little, goosebumps erupting on your flesh from the sensation. 
You feel the bed shift, and you look from under heavy lids to see Mingyu standing at the foot of the mattress, finally taking off his jeans.
Fuck, he’s huge- maybe foreplay wasn’t so much of a want, as a necessity. 
“You still want me?” Mingyu asks, joining you on the bed again, his breath hot against your throat as he grinds down against you, teasing his cock against your dripping pussy.
“Fuck, I need you,” you tell him.
Mingyu kisses you then, grabbing your hands and putting them above your head. He collects your wrists in one grip, and with his free hand, he grabs his cock, lining it up with your core.
“If it hurts-”
“You’ve made me cum twice,” you tell him, “I’m pretty sure I’ll be okay.”
“Whatever you say, my star,” he grins, pressing his lips to yours as he pushes the head of his cock into your tight, wet hole.
You groan desperately, struggling against his grip on your wrists, but Mingyu doesn’t let up. In fact, he tightens his hold on you, pushing his cock even deeper into your core.
The sounds you’re making are feral as he kisses you, his lips and tongue are hot against your own in the most delicious way.
You can feel your pussy stretching to accommodate for his girth, and when his hips are finally flush against your own, you think this might just be the most full you’ve ever felt in your entire life.
Mingyu breaks the kiss, panting and looking down at you. “You feel perfect,” he whispers.
“You feel perfect,” you counter, feeling a little dim with your repetition of his own works back to him, but also too fucked out to think of anything better. 
He only grins, drawing his lips to yours. It’s a gentler kiss as he begins to fuck you, his motions slow so you can acclimatize to the massive cock that’s already rearranging your guts. 
You get lost in him, and there’s a kind of safety in having your hands pinned down above your head. You can’t quite explain it- maybe it’s just a size kink? You can’t have a bondage kink, can you? Does Mingyu even know what bondage is? Do fairies watch porn?
You push the thoughts from your head, focusing on the cock that’s dragging against your sensitive inner walls.
Soon, you’re moaning loudly again, and Mingyu finally lets up on your wrists. “I kind of…” he swallows thickly, thrusts faltering, “I kind of want you to ride me when you cum.”
“You do?”
“I’ve… well, I know I’ve been a little rough-”
“You haven’t been rough,” you assure him.
“I just mean, the first two times you came, I did what I wanted, and I want you to be in control for this last one, don’t want to overstimulate you.” 
It’s a soft idea, and you nod up at him. “I’ll ride you.”
“Good.” Mingyu kisses you gently, and then the two of you are adjusting.
He lays flat as you swing your leg over his hip, grabbing his cock to line it up with your core so you can slowly sink down on him.
Mingyu groans, his hands settling on your hips to help you be gentle as you come to a fully seated position on his cock.
“You look so perfect like this, my star,” he tells you, one free hand moving up to grab your breast, massaging it gently and pinching at your nipple.
“Think you can cum with me, Gyu?” you ask, beginning to bounce.
You watch Mingyu’s lips part in concentration, his gaze fixed on your chest. He’s clearly in a daze, and it’s adorable. “I’ll cum with you,” he whispers. “You’re so beautiful.”
“You’re quite handsome yourself,” you smile.
Mingyu’s ears turn pink first, and it’s so endearing to watch the massive man flush from a compliment as you’re riding his cock.
God, he is a perfect man, isn’t he?
“I think… I think I was made to be found by you,” Mingyu says, looking up at you with eyes full of adoration. “I don’t know what I’d do If I never met you.”
“Gyu,” you coo, slowing your thrusts. Mingyu sits up, allowing you to pull him to your chest, cradling him to your breast as your fingers stroke through his hair. 
“I do love you,” he continues. “And… it’s okay if you don’t love me the same way yet. I know it’s fast, even for me, but… yeah.”
“It’s fast, but that’s okay. You don’t have to hide yourself from me,” you tell him, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head.
“You don’t have to hide from me either,” Mingyu promises.
He lays back down flat, and you move with him, your chests pressed together as you ride his cock, groaning into his ear.
Mingyu’s hands are warm on your hips, and he steadies you, beginning to thrust up to meet your movements.
You both release sounds of pleasure, and you can feel your hearts racing together in your chests as they remain pressed to each other.
You’re tired, but you’re also eager to cum again, so you push through, closing your eyes and focusing on the pleasure instead of the increasing burn in your thighs.
“Are you close?” Mingyu pants in your ear. “I’m close.”
His sounds are like magic, and they help drag you to join Mingyu on the edge. “I’m close,” you confirm, swallowing thickly.
“Can we cum together?”
“Yeah,” you whimper, muscles clenching in preparation. 
Mingyu fucks up into you even harder, and you put all of your energy into carrying this out, into riding this man until you pass out from how good everything is about to feel.
He releases another grunt, and you press your lips to his own, which is all it takes for you to both fall over the edge together.
You feel like you’re flying again, it’s almost an out-of-body pleasure-fueled experience, but this time, Mingyu’s with you, and you know you’ll be safe with the man who knows how to navigate the skies.
He cradles you to his chest, keeping his cock buried as deep as it can go in your core. You’re both kissing each other desperately, shaking and contracting from orgasms that continue to surge through you. Your hearts are racing together, and you’re both trying to catch your breaths even in the midst of a passionate kiss.
Everything just feels so right, and natural.
It’s as if your body was made to do this, with Mingyu especially.
Soon, your orgasms are subsiding, and you’re simply kissing now. 
Mingyu holds you close, not letting you go until he’s good and satisfied.
You take a deep breath, breaking the kiss to look down at him. “So…”
“So,” he grins.
“So… I guess this changes our arrangement a little?”
Mingyu laughs, holding you tighter. “Does this mean I don’t have to sleep in the dollhouse anymore?”
You find yourself chuckling too, and the contraction it causes of your pussy around Mingyu’s cock makes him groan desperately, his hand pushing on the small of your back. 
“You don’t have to sleep in the dollhouse.”
“I meant it when I said I’d give up my wings for you,” Mingyu muses, turning serious as he looks up at you.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“The future-”
“Is something we can talk about later,” you assure him. “Right now, I just want to enjoy you.”
“I guess… I guess we can do that,” Mingyu concedes. His arms wrap tighter around you, securing you down against his chest. He tucks you under his chin, releasing a deep breath, and that’s where you fall asleep, completely content with your blue-collared, human-sized, fairy lover.
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☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! we all need a domestic blue collar man who's obsessed with us and wants to build our dream house for us ✨MANIFESTING IT💅
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🔮 preview. “I’m happy where I am… but, when you cum, I’ll let you warm up while I fuck you stupid.” Mingyu never used to swear. He used to call sex ‘making love’ and something about it had made you uncomfortable in some weird way- so your soft lover has taken to using profanity for your own benefit, and you can’t help the way your body reacts to the term ‘fuck you stupid.’
cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, size kink, worship, Mingyu is a boobs guy, nipple play, fingering, pussy stretching, foreplay, multiple reader orgasms, hand job, shower sex, praise, dirty talk, etc… I pet names: (hers) my star. (his) Gyu. 
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.7k I teaser wc. 175
🌙 starring. Mingyu x afab!Reader
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bonus
It’s summer, and you’re more in love than ever. Mingyu’s made you rethink what it is to live in your cottage. He’s done everything in his power to make it your dream home, and his latest upgrade is a small rowboat that he’d handcrafted with the purpose of meandering around your pond.
You can’t stop smiling and giggling as Mingyu rows you around, the sunlight kissing his skin in the most beautiful way. He’s so gorgeous, and his soul is just as stunning.
Every day is a dream with him… but there are still things on your mind, things you need to discuss. 
“Mingyu?” you ask, drawing his attention away from his haphazard rowing.
“Yes, my star?” he pauses to look at you, setting down the oars to give you his complete, and undivided attention.
“I’m just… I’m thinking.”
“That’s not always the best sign,” Mingyu teases. “Thinking about what?”
“Just… we’ve been together a while now, and, I guess I’m starting to look at the future more, and I’m not really sure how to envision it.” 
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maybefae · 2 days ago
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Messages From Your Forever Person
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Pile 1 - Pile 2 - Pile 3
Remember, this is a general reading and it may not resonate for everyone or completely. Tarot is a tool to help guide but you are responsible for your actions and life, you choose your path.
Just a note!: I don’t like doing general love readings because I don’t feel like they are as personal as, well, personal love readings, but I had the urge to make one. Your forever person can be what you consider your significant other, long-term partner, or future spouse.
Tips!
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|Pile 1
Tarot: King of Pentacles, The Fool, Ace of Pentacles, Three of Pentacles, Black Numen, Six of Wands, Knight of Pentacles, Three of Swords, Ace of Swords, The Star, Ten of Cups (Bottom of the Deck:
Oracle: Uplift, Forgiveness, Consistency
You know how the planet Jupiter is the defender of our solar system? How Jupiter pulls asteroids away from Earth and even take the hits itself? That’s the energy of this person. As soon as I pulled the cards, I got the feeling of comfort from a strong and stable energy. I must say, this person also has a comforting smile and as soon as you look at them, your nerves will instantly be soothed. They feel like they are standing beside me, hands in pockets, as they watch me write this. They could have a favorite cream cable knit sweater that they like to wear as soon as there’s a chill in the air. 
They are very patient and have the mentality of “it doesn’t have to be perfect, it just has to be done”. You could suffer from anxiety, but I feel this panicked and shaky energy coming from you. I don’t know if you used to be yelled at or punished for doing something wrong by a parent or partner, but it feels like you are terrified of doing anything around your forever person at first. And there are cards here that are telling me that you have been hurt in the past. It seems like this could be the first safe and healthy partner you’ve had. This could just be the first partner you’ve ever had and now you're 20/25+ years old and you don’t know what you’re doing, which brings out this anxiety towards this relationship. But your partner here holds a lot of patience and comfort for you! They really love you. Honestly, this is really fucking close to unconditional love (which is rare). They hold no judgement towards how you operate now because of your past, absolutely not. And they want you to know that. It’s like they have told you this but you continuously don’t believe them, which does hurt them a little ngl. The Jupiter reference could be what this was for. They will take the small hurts you do but persistently and consistently show up until you believe in their love for you. And it’s not that you don’t know, but there is a voice in your head that makes you doubt often even if there isn’t proof of those thoughts. 
God, pile 1, they love you. They are such a steady energy. They are also very stable in the physical and spiritual realms. They are a very hard worker and would do anything to help your dreams become a reality. Your dreams are their dreams and vice versa. They really just want a peaceful home life with you honestly; they like the simple things. I think a good personality reference would be the husband to the pregnant wife in Kiki’s Delivery Service. 
They really want me to drive home the message of forgiving yourself, pile 1. Sure, your actions or thoughts do hurt them sometimes, but they don’t really want that to be the focus. They want you to be aware that they do but in a way to help you heal. They aren’t your past partner, they aren’t going to react like your parent, they aren’t playing you just because you haven’t had a partner. It’s heartbreaking that you would dare to even compare them to others. Maybe this person hides a lot of their hurt not to upset you and this is a hurdle that they have to work through. It’s only really coming out towards the end so that’s why I want to say that. 
I think this message was to let you know how the beginning part of your relationship will be like. They just want to make you aware of it, maybe so you can comfort the insecurities you have so the beginning won’t be as difficult.
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|Pile 2
Tarot: Ten of Swords, Queen of Pentacles, Six of Swords, The Hierophant, Three of Pentacles, King of Cups, Three of Cups, The Sun, King of Pentacles, Seven of Pentacles, The High Priestess, The Moon
Oracle: The Moon (again!), Wept Breath, The Chariot, Vulnerability, Divinity, Sacred
Before I pulled the cards, I heard six months to a year or eight weeks. I don’t like to do timing but that’s what I heard. So if that feels right to you, then take it. Or somewhere between a waning crescent and a waning gibbous moon.
Honestly, they are just happy to be here. I think they were ready to give up on love after so many failed attempts and heartbreak before you came along. And you honestly could’ve sworn off love too but you saw them and was like “I want that one.” This is the black cat, golden retriever pile. Raven and Beast Boy, Maleficent and Diaval, or Roger Rabbit and Jessica Rabbit. 
The vulnerability oracle strongly comes from your side. It does come from theirs but they admit that they were practically enchanted by you. “The idea of giving up on love was a stupid idea on their part, sorry your highness, that was my bad.” They just folded and they would happily fall under any love spell you send their way. They are obsessed with you, in the most healthy way possible. They are banging the table with their fist, credit card in hand. There’s an energy that you were in the same room with them and kept your eye on them because you were drawn to how ��pathetic” they were. You couldn’t help yourself so you gave in. There’s also an energy of “of course, you’re the fated one to be with me.” You two end up talking and you could kinda bust their balls a little, tease and be a little sassy, but they keep up with you and “pass your little test.” 
I don’t think they were necessarily a player in the past but they had quite a few lovers and most of them played your person. They could have the vibe of one just from how cheeky and flirty they are but those thoughts are soon squashed with you seeing how pathetically devoted they are to you. They are just a lover at their core, they like to keep things light and fun, but they also know how to be serious and fix any issue that comes up in the relationship. They would truly do anything for you. This could come from an insecurity of not getting the love they needed from their past partners so they are overcompensating to keep you in love with them. :( 
Are these the older daughters/siblings that I usually get? There could be something here that they have a pretty put-together family and you’re the first partner that the family actually loves. You could honestly get the love and care that you missed out on with their family. 
God, I keep seeing your partner looking at you with the biggest heart eyes and they do this all the time, which could make you so flustered. This could be one of the things about them that honestly gets you to melt a little and lower some walls you have up. This feels like a love that you probably didn’t get to experience in your teen years but this will span on until you're old and wrinkly. They will carry the “honeymoon phase” through the rest of your lives. You know those videos that people make of their parents being in love and fooling around? That’s you two! 
There’s just an overall feeling of excitement coming from them. They could talk about you a lot to their friends and family, but not in a bragging way. They are just so happy with you and thinks you’re the most beautiful person they have ever seen. I heard “A wish I didn’t know I was wishing for.”
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|Pile 3
Tarot: Two of Cups, King of Swords, The Hermit, The Fool, ? Dreamworld (reconnection), Six of Wands, Two of Wands, Four of Pentacles, Five of Cups, The Chariot (rest, feeling at home)
Oracle: Serenity, Sincerity, Respite, Surrender
If this resonates, this could be a lover you had that had passed away.
For others, this pile is for the ones who believe in lifetimes before the one you’re currently living. Energy is recycled after all. This is the more mystical pile. 
Your person here has a large energy and could come off as cold and intimidating. They have come to me wearing all black, leather boots, and darker hair. They have very muscular arms and a broad chest, very tall. They could be goth. This could’ve been them in the past life or that is how they show up in this lifetime. They have their head down as they stand beside me and there is an energy of wanting you to know they are here. Their soul does watch over you and guide you but they may stay quiet and don’t give you many signs or messages that they are around. But I suppose they came through today to say hi! 
They are very protective over you and they think you’re a ray of sunshine that graces their life. They aren’t one to show many emotions nor really speak them out, but you accept this and know that you are deeply loved. They know you doubt that they even exist or if they are coming or if they love you and so they are very hesitantly showing up through this reading to say that “I’m on my way” and “just sit tight.” They could have a deeper voice. They could give you reassurance if you ask for it, by the way! They want me to specify that so they don’t come across as heartless. I think you’re the only one that they truly love with their whole being and they do make it known, but if you need a little verbal reassurance, all you gotta do is ask. They are a cat person.
There is something here that you may have lived in timelines where they never got to exist in, like it has been a long while since you two have been together. I heard, “I waited for the right time.” There could’ve been timelines where your lives probably wouldn’t have worked together or it was going to end in tragedy “like the one I met you in.” So they had to wait. And they watched over you through each timeline. Everytime you didn’t get to live a happy lifetime or if your partner of any lifetime didn’t treat you right, it would make your person terribly upset and they couldn’t do anything about it. They are very upset while they show this to me, angry and frustrated. But this lifetime is the one where you two will finally be together. 
You could feel like you are meant to be someone, like a little void spot where your soul is…and you could be waiting out until you meet this person. You actually could’ve done this for the past three lifetimes (which you probably lived more happily than others). And this could’ve been a lifetime where you planned to do the same thing, but your person is coming in. You will be suspicious but you will probably be very enamoured by them. They are different than others and stand out to you. I think they like to rub your back because I just got the feeling of someone doing that to me. They let you be your bubbly and lively self and actually love that about you. They have complete trust in you. They may be on the more quiet/shy side but you two work together perfectly. You two can rest easy in this lifetime. 
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Dividers: @inklore
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dwobbitfromtheshire · 3 days ago
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Eddie seemed to have zero impulse control when he's not actively thinking about it. After Vecna Eddie moved in with Steve because he and Wayne didn't have a new place yet, plus, Wayne was living out of a motel. It was not a place for someone with wounds like his. Also, he was still waiting to be cleared of all charges. Steve was well enough to take care of Eddie. The metalhead was still in a lot of pain and on as many painkillers as he was allowed the first time that it happened. Steve was leaning over to fluff his pillows, and his lips were close to Eddie's face. It was all Steve’s fault, really. Eddie was thinking about how pretty his lips were when he decided to grab Steve by the back of the neck.
"What are - MMHH!"
Eddie brought his lips to his, and it was the sweetest kiss that Steve had ever experienced. It had left his lips feeling all tingly. Steve could easily pass it off on the fact that Eddie was high, and that was exactly what he did do. He never brought it up or told anyone about it. . .not even Robin. He really couldn't ignore it, though, when it happened a second time.
Eddie was feeling a lot better and could move around the house a lot more. Steve had finally been able to cook dinner for the both of them after living off other people's cooking and takeout while they both healed. They had finished eating when Eddie lumbered over to him and spun him around, cupping his face.
"That was the best home-cooked meal I've ever eaten - MUAH!" Eddie exclaimed, kissing him square on the mouth. "You go settle down. I'll handle the clean-up, big boy."
Steve had frozen a little. Surely, Eddie knew what he was doing? Since he hadn't brought it up, Steve decided not to bring it up either. . .except when it happened a third time. Eddie was completely healed, and he was able to be let out of the house since he was he officially cleared of all charges. He wanted to meet up with Corroded Coffin at Gareth's since they refused to come over to Steve's house despite the fact that Steve had told them they were welcome anytime. Even though he understood where they were coming from, it still stung that they refused to even try to get to know him. Anyways, Eddie was on his way out the door except for the fact that his keys were lying on the counter.
"Hey, did you forget something?" Steve asked.
"Oh, right," Eddie said, twirled around and kissed him while scooping up the keys. Then he was gone.
Okay, he really couldn't ignore it this time. Steve really needed to talk to someone about the kisses and about how much he liked them. He needed to know what that meant, and he knew exactly what kind of conversation this would turn out to be.
"Eddie keeps kissing me," Steve said as soon as Robin got in the car.
"I'm sorry, what?" Robin said, blinking.
"You know how Eddie's really affectionate," Steve replied. "Does it bother you when he kisses you?"
"Oh, you mean like kissing on the forehead and the cheek? No, I think it's sweet, actually," Robin said and rolled her eyes. "Are you feeling a little insecure in your masculinity because a man is getting a little affectionate with you?"
"What?! No, I don't mind getting affection from a man, Robin. You know I hug Argyle all the time," Steve said. "I'm just wondering why Eddie kisses me on the mouth and he doesn't do that with anyone else."
"Stop the car!" Robin screamed, and Steve pulled over the side, parking the car.
"Jesus, Robin!" Steve exclaimed.
"Eddie's been kissing you on the MOUTH?!" Robin asked.
"Yeah. He doesn't do that with you?" Steve asked.
"No, I think that's a treat only for you," Robin said.
"But why? We're both straight," Steve said. "I mean, I'm not trying to complain or anything, it's nice but why is he doing it?"
"You like it when he kisses you?" Robin asked.
"Yeah," Steve shrugged. "If I were into men, I'd be asking him on a date, but I'm not gay, Robin. . .well, maybe just for Eddie. Is it possible to be gay just for one person?"
"I mean, maybe, but I doubt that it's the case here," Robin said. "Usually, I would probably let you figure this out for yourself, but considering how long you kept it hidden that you like Nancy Drew, it might just take a while. . .do I have permission to rip off the band-aid?"
"Uh, yeah. I guess," Steve asked. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"Oh, how the hell were you so sure about Vickie and completely clueless about yourself?" Robin asked.
"Are you still on it that I totally called it about Vickie being a lesbian before you did?" Steve asked.
"She's not a lesbian, dingus," Robun said.
"Okay, I was pretty sure that you two were dating. Robin, she's clearly into you, so I'm pretty sure you have a shot," Steve said.
"Yeah, we are dating but she's not a lesbian," she said.
"I'm so confused," Steve said.
"In more ways than one," Robin said.
"Robin, we're going to be late for work," Steve said.
"Vickie is a bisexual," Robin said. "She likes more than one gender."
"Oh. . .oh, like David Bowie!" Steve exclaimed. "Right?!"
"Right," Robin said.
"Oh my god!" Steve said. "My Tom Cruise obsession suddenly makes sense - I didn't want to be him - "
"Not to mention, all those times you've stared openly at Eddie along with his posters of Eddie Van Halen and Kirt Hammel. . . "
"Kirk Hammett, Robin," Steve scoffed. "Eddie would rip you a new one for getting that one wrong."
"But you knew it because Eddie did," Robin said.
"I like him," Steve said with wide eyes.
"Yeah, buddy. Are you going to need a minute?" Robin said.
"Nah, I'm fine. I actually feel really good about it," Steve grinned.
"Not even a little freak out?" She asked.
"Nope!"
"Lucky bitch," Robin muttered.
"I'm sorry, the next time I have a realization about myself, I'll make sure to give you the freak out that you deserve," Steve said.
"That's all I'm asking," Robin said.
They spent the morning shift talking about Eddie and what he'd say to him once he got home. Steve debated on giving him flowers or not, or a stuff animal. He decided on a stuffed animal because that was more permanent, as Robin had pointed out. They were just about to take their break for lunch when Eddie strolled in.
"Hey," Steve said brightly. "I was just thinking about you."
"Yeah?" Eddie asked and leaned against the counter. "That's good to know."
Eddie leaned forward and planted a kiss on his lips. This time, Steve responded to it, cupping Eddie's face as he deepened the kiss. He could feel Eddie smile against his lips. Steve heard Robin scrambling to lock the front door and close the newly installed blinds. Eddie wrapped his arms around him, nearly climbing over the counter to do it. Finally, Robin coughed loudly and they broke apart.
"Hi," Steve said breathlessly.
"Hi," Eddie said. "I got something for you."
He climbed over the counter and sat down in front of him. He pulled out a rock and handed it to Steve.
"It looks like a guitar pick," Steve said with a grin.
"I thought you could use it for good luck," Eddie said.
"That's very sweet, thank you," Steve said, blushing. "I'm going to keep it forever."
"So, your boyfriend did good?" Eddie asked.
"Boyfriend?" Steve asked.
"Yeah, I know we're taking things slow, but I was hoping that you'd consider me being your boyfriend," Eddie said.
"Yeah, uh, it's just - it might be the concussions, but I don't remember asking you out or you asking me out," Steve said.
"Oh, you definitely asked me out," Eddie said.
"Oh, God, Robin. The doctor said if I started having memory problems - " Steve said with wide eyes. "I'd definitely remember asking you out."
"Honey! I'm sure it's fine!" Eddie exclaimed. "Robin was there, she'll tell you!"
"I was NOT!" Robin yelled, her eyes going wide. "Or was I? Oh, god, what if I hit my head and I don't remember?! I'd remember my best friend asking out a man!"
"Okay, don't panic, Robin, we'll call Hopper - " Steve started to say.
"You really don't remember?!" Eddie shrieked.
"No!" Robin and Steve yelled.
"Seriously, Robin, you were there, and you turned into a giant duck which, by the way, is rude because you know about my fear of ducks!" Eddie yelled.
"Oh, Eddie, goddamnit, was this a dream?" Steve asked.
"You know what? Now that I'm thinking about it, I think it might have been a dream," Eddie said.
"Okay, those looks you've been giving me make a lot more sense," Robin said. "Have you been living in fear of me randomly turning into a duck, like I'm some sort of. . .wereduck?"
"I don't know, your name's Robin, and we've all been through crazy shit. . .anything is possible," Eddie said.
"Aww, and you've hugged me even though you're scared of ducks," Robin cooed.
"Well, it's my fear, my responsibility. It's not your fault," Eddie said and then looked at her. "But you're not, though, right?"
"No, Eddie," she said softly and then affectionately, "You dingus."
"This whole time. . .," Eddie trailed off. "We haven't actually been dating. You never asked me out."
Eddie started to scramble off of the counter when Steve grabbed him and pulled him back.
"Let's fix that. . .Eddie Munson, do you want to be my boyfriend?" Steve asked.
"Fuck yeah, I do," Eddie grinned.
He grabbed the back of Steve’s head and crashed their lips together. Eddie sighed and leaned his forehead against Steve’s.
"No one better fucking wake me up," Eddie breathed and Steve laughed.
"Oh God! I think my nose is turning into a bill - quack, quack!"
"Robin!"
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espinosaurusrexex · 2 days ago
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Bucky who starts a purely platonic physical touch giving friendship with reader… until it turns into more
・゚✫* 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑖 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡  。✭・゚
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It starts off so innocently. Bucky just sat really close to you one day and noticed how the touch of your shoulder on his made him tingly all over.
The same happened when your hand brushed his, or you passed close by, and he caught a whiff of your hair - something that reminds him of the feeling he now seeks out when you’re around.
It’s no secret that either of you have been single a long time with basically no prospects for a future relationship, so no one questions when you and him suddenly hang out more.
He invites you over when you ask him if he was okay, and he realized that his day was in fact crappy and that if you offered to talk to him, he’d tell you all about it.
And when you sit on the sofa listening to Bucky talk, your hand instinctively found his and before Bucky knew it, his head was pressed into your shoulder, your nails raking over his scalp releasing a feeling within him, he can only describe as heavenly.
He loves it when you comfort him, and he loves comforting you, somehow knowing that you need this part of your friendship just as much as he does.
So it becomes a regular thing: when the rest of the team returns home to their spouses after a tiring mission, you and Bucky retreat to either one of your apartments under the pretense of not wanting to be alone.
Of course, neither of you planned for it to become so touchy and intimate... no, that would be insane, right?
It’s a normal afternoon for the two of you, hanging out at your place, a movie playing on TV, Bucky’s head buried in your chest as he lays half on top of you and you with your back against the sofa. Your hand rakes over his hair as his are halfway tugged beneath your body, seeking all the warmth he can get.
The physical touch aspect of your relationship has somehow crossed the lines between friends, but neither of you care. It feels too good to be held and protected to stop.
Bucky hasn't felt the caring touch of a partner in decades and you... well, let's just say that all men before Bucky didn't feel the need to express their love through aftercare - not that Bucky is in any way shape or form about to give said aftercare... no, you are just friends. Just. Friends.
Friends who frequently hide their hands in the other's jacket when the cold catches up to them.
Friends who bury their faces in each other's chest and lap like it is the most normal thing a person can do to another.
Friends who somehow always wonder if the other feels that spark ignite whenever they hold each other close.
Bucky feels the sensation when he's practically caging you beneath his upper body of the sofa. He lifts his head as he usually does to see if maybe this time he could magically hear your thoughts.
"What's up?"
He shakes his head. "I just really enjoy this." he mumbles and blushes, and your hand suddenly stops its path along his scalp.
"Me too." you smile and look into his eyes.
normally he'd put his head back, and you'd resume watching the movie, but something is different today.
maybe it's the way his hair looks perfectly tousled by your constant motions, or maybe it's the way he slowly blinks at you like a very comfortable pet.
but you finally find the courage to kiss him.
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loveliluc · 2 days ago
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𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ make up for lost time ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐
— ft. alhaitham, diluc, neuvillette, wriothesley, zhongli
synopsis — even when they arrive home from work much later than usual, there you are, ready and willing to welcome them into your arms; 3.7k words.
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— minors do not interact! unprotected sex. oral. fingering. mirror play. kissing. sexual language. afab!reader with no use of specific pronouns. sub!reader.
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— alhaitham 𝜗𝜚
acting grand sage alhaitham this, acting grand sage alhaitham that. alhaitham has lost count of how many times he’s heard that title today, a perpetual reminder of his current station and a thorn in his side. he isn’t one to do more than required of him, what with his resolute desire to live an easy life. but one thing he is is dutiful. he will do his job, as scribe or acting grand sage alike, because doing his job well will save him the hassle further down the line. but this isn’t to say alhaitham isn’t annoyed with the situation he’s found himself in, temporary as it may be. he’s beyond aggravated as he leaves the akademiya, the sun already well beyond setting. another long day. his annoyance doesn’t last much longer through the threshold of his home, however. especially not when he sees you curled on the couch with a book. he almost sighs of relief when your pretty eyes turn upwards to meet his.
“you’re home,” you say in greeting. you snap your book shut gently as your body turns to face him, already preparing to welcome him in as you watch him move closer.
“you waited up for me again.” it’s a matter of fact statement, and it falls off alhaitham’s lips in a dull tone, but you know him, and know that he feels somewhat bad that you’ve stayed up so late just for him. but he’s grateful for you all the same. his toned body collapses next to you on the couch, quickly bringing you in close with one arm. you’re eager to receive the embrace and quick to settle yourself upon his lap.
you nuzzle your face into his neck and breathe; you’ve missed him. “i’m glad you’re home.” your arms are around his shoulders and you sigh when his hands find your waist and squeeze. the man below you simply grunts, and you know he’s beyond tired from the day. “i missed you today.”
alhaitham’s hands smooth over the curves of you and finally slip under your shirt to feel your skin. he feels you shudder. “oh yeah?” he’s never been a man in need of affirmative words, but he can’t help but love to hear you say that you missed him, him of all people.
“mhm.” your hands are toying with his hair now, fingers tangling in the silvery locks. you can’t help the involuntary grind of your hips.
the man beneath you grunts again at the action, your clothed cunt warm against his groin. his fingers travel higher up under your shirt just as he feels your lips against his neck. “how much?” he hears you sigh and feels the heat of your breath. his skin is littered with goosebumps, and they don’t go unnoticed by you. and he’s not concerned with hiding the effect you have on him.
“a lot,” you reply against his skin, your hips rolling again. you feel something hardening under you, and it grazes your heat in a way that makes you shudder. you pull your head away to look at his handsome yet tired face. “care for a demonstration?”
he smirks. “by all means.” and you’re so eager to show him, to prove to him the way you yearned for him all day. and he doesn’t speak it aloud just yet, but he doesn’t need words when his hard cock that springs out of his pants is sufficient evidence that he has also longed for you. you’re on your knees now, taking his length in your hand. he’s hot and solid in your grasp, and already so sensitive as he takes the first plunge into your welcoming mouth.
you hollow your cheeks and suck after taking what you can of him. your hand wraps around what’s left, and the combination has the scribe-turned-acting-grand-sage groaning above you. he’s so heavy on your tongue, and he tastes so good just like he always does. you’re already a mess between your thighs, panties dampened with your slick. you clench your thighs as you suck him off. the taste of him and the sounds of his raspy groans are getting to you, accelerated by your desperation.
alhaitham watches you bob up and down his shaft through hazy vision. his eyes are heavy with sleepiness, but also lust as he admires the way you swallow him. fuck, he’s missed you. it’s so evident in the way he reaches his end quickly with one final push of his cock in your mouth, his hot cum spilling down your throat. you take all he has to give and then some until he’s pulling you off him.
you swallow the last of his release while your eyes remain on his. his hand tightens in your hair. “was that good enough proof, hm?” the man above you smirks.
he’s pulling you into his lap again until your face is only mere inches away. he can feel the way your arousal has seeped through your shorts with the way you settle yourself over his bare cock. alhaitham kisses you once, twice, thrice. “i suppose,” he whispers against your skin. “but now i think it’s my turn to show you, yes?”
— diluc 𝜗𝜚
it’s no secret that your husband diluc is a busy man, to say the least. he wears many hats, and has many responsibilities. he’s dutiful in all things, dedicated and diligent. anyone would be hard pressed to find someone more committed to mondstadt than him. he does so much beyond what people are even aware of, and as much as you adore how honorable and noble he is, you can’t deny that you some times grow tired of how busy he is. he always does his best to pamper you when he can, to be the most attentive, caring spouse he can be to you. and he is very much that and more. you couldn’t ask for a better husband, it’s just…you wish you could have more time with him. and as for the last few days, he’s been even more busy than usual.
and diluc knows this, so painfully aware of his absence. which is why he wastes no time in heading towards the direction of your bedroom after getting home tonight. it’s so late that even the winery staff have already retired for the night; it’s quiet, but diluc doesn’t linger near the front door too long in worry some other obstacle may stand in his way of you. his heart is fluttering faster the closer he gets to your door, and it all but bursts in his chest when his eyes find your form. you’re springing off the bed before he can even register your movement, but his natural reflex to always reach out for you allows him to catch you when you barrel into his strong chest.
“you’re home.” you’re relieved, immensely so. your body melts in his warm embrace and you almost purr with content when you feel him relax around you.
diluc’s overwhelmed by your scent and he feels like his knees could give way any moment. as elated as he is that you’re awake to greet him, he’s overly aware of the hour and a worry rises within him. “and you’re still awake. should you not be asleep, my love?”
“can’t sleep without you,” you whine. “wanted to see you when you got home. i missed you so much.” and the pouty eyes that look up at him just about does him in for good.
he feels the way you cling to him, and he breathes a chuckle while he kisses your forehead. you’re too cute. “i cannot deny that i’m happy to be welcomed by you. i have missed you as well, my love.” and he’s pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, and he only intends for it to be a quick gesture but the way you tug and pull at him keeps him rooted in place.
the longer you kiss him the more heated things turn. you’re clambering at the lapels of his coat because you simply cannot get close enough; his hands are in a firm press around your hips and soon enough he’s pushing you backwards towards the large bed. there’s so much you both could say, so much left unsaid from all the time apart, but the best way either of you could express it all is through desperate touches and sighs. and it all escalates until he’s balls deep inside your warm, wet cunt, your legs thrown over his broad shoulders.
diluc isn’t precise in his rhythm, his cock driving wildly into your warmth and it’s all he can do to keep himself together. you’re already so overwhelmed under him, nails in his skin and his name on your lips. his mouth is all over your face, your lips, and then your neck. “missed you, missed this tight little pussy. i — hah — am so sorry, my love. promise i’ll make it all u-up to you.”
and you have no doubt he will. it doesn’t really matter how much time he spends away when he’s always so good at coming back to you at the end of the day. your face is buried in his shoulder as you wail out his name. “diluc! ‘m so close! don’t stop!”
diluc groans when you squeeze him so good. a hand snakes down between your body to press a warm thumb to your puffy clit. “will never stop, my love. never stop making you feel good. so good.” and he doesn’t stop that night; he’s tired, you’re tired, but neither of you could get enough after all the time apart.
— neuvillette 𝜗𝜚
neuvillette suspects there must be something in the water as of late, because the oddities he’s endured in such a short amount of time are abundant. his job as iudex has been particularly peculiar lately, or rather, the trials he has been overseeing have been quite…out of the ordinary. there’s been more legal documents atop his desk as of late, and as the ever diligent chief justice that he is, he allocates all of his time to make sure they’re properly sorted. a hectic work schedule wouldn’t be so unbearable though if the thought of you didn’t dwell on his mind every waking moment…
you’re his motivation to push through every document, to be done with his responsibilities and finally leave his office and seek out your presence that awaits him at home. he groans at the thought of you waiting for him, your pretty little self eager for him and only him. his trousers are becoming all too tight the more he muses upon you; it’s too much, you’re too much and you’re not even near him. he feels wildly inappropriate getting so worked up within his office, at his place of work. it’s so shameful, but he supposes it cannot be helped. all he can do now is finish as quickly as possible so he can alleviate his pent up sexual frustration.
it’s late when he arrives home, and neuvillette is certain you’re well asleep by now. but to his pleasant surprise, you’re very much awake when he steps into your shared bedroom, sitting at the large vanity. he’s stunned for a moment as he watches you; why does it feel like it’s been ages since he’s last seen you? you’re brushing through your hair but stop when you notice him, your gaze meeting his through the mirror.
you make his heart leap in his chest when you give him a smile in the reflection. “welcome home.” it’s so simple but he feels all the stress wash off of him at your attention. his feet are moving on their own accord, and you stay put to welcome him in once he’s close.
“my dear, my love.” neuvillette sighs out in both relief and adoration while he towers behind you. he’s bending forward and burying his face in your nape, and his breath makes goosebumps erupt all over your skin. his gloved hands are squeezing at your shoulders before wrapping around to settle against your waist. you giggle when he peppers kisses along your throat and shoulder.
“if i didn’t know any better, i’d say you missed me,” you tease, leaning into his embrace. your eyes watch the reflection, and you enjoy the sight of his larger frame around you. “is that a fair statement, love?”
neuvillette groans; it’s a sound that slips out more guttural and needy than he intends. “very fair, indeed.” his hands smooth over the silk of your night gown and you exhale. his need from earlier is returning with a vengeance, dick throbbing pathetically in his pants. your smell, your body, it’s all affecting him. “you’ve taken over my mind all day. I simply could not escape you in the slightest. very distracting, i must say.”
you sigh when his large hands rise up your arms to toy with the thin straps of your night gown. he tugs them off your shoulders the moment he nibbles at your neck, and you can’t help the moan that flows forth. “show me, neuvillette. show me all the ways you thought about me while you were away.”
and oh, he does. he soon has your breasts free to his viewing and feeling pleasure, one large palm around one of the plush mounds of flesh, fingers pinching at the pebbled nipple. his other still gloved hand is plunged between your thighs, two fingers knuckle deep in your weepy cunt. he watches you in the mirror and it’s a nasty sight, and when your eyes find his he almost meets his end right then and there. he fucks you on his fingers while his thumb works over your swollen pearl, urging you to your climax with haste.
“neuvillette, m-my love —” you dissolve into pleasure before you can finish your words, your high overwhelming all of your senses. it’s so intense, amplified by the way your eyes remained locked on his through it all;
neuvillette guides you through your high and relishes in the way your cum soaks through his gloves. he’s kissing your temple as you calm down, but he is far from finished with you. “well done, my love. now,” he urges you on your wobbly feet. “lay on the bed for me.”
— wriothesley 𝜗𝜚
the duke doesn’t get to see the topside often. leaving the depths of the fortress is a rarity, but when he does ascend to the world above, it’s always to make his way home to you. but as luck — or lack thereof — would have it, spending time at home with you has become even more rare these days. being the warden is a never ending job, and his responsibilities persist even when he misses you so much it hurts. he’s wrangling new inmates when he’d much rather be tangled up with you, your knees folded over your form, and him balls deep inside —
wriothesley grunts when his dick throbs impatiently in his slacks. he’s fumbling with his keys in a frantic search for the house key because he quite simply cannot get inside fast enough; there’s an overwhelming urgency to be inside you that’s compelling him to practically knock down the front door once it’s unlocked. it’s been much too long since he’s been graced with the sweet wrap of your cunt. he’s almost sprinting through the house towards your shared bedroom; fuck, he hopes you’re still awake. and thank the archons, you’re awake and so beautiful and right in front of him with the prettiest little smile that’s beckoning him closer.
“ah, there you are!” you’re sitting up in bed and wriothesley almost falls to his knees at the sight of you in one of his shirts. “i was beginning to think you weren’t coming home at all.”
“sorry, darlin’,” he’s climbing over the bed, his icy gaze locked on his target: you. “tried my best to make it on time. you haven’t been waiting up for me, have you?” and he knows you have and he’s grateful. his pretty darling staying up just to welcome him home.
you hum and open your thighs so he can slot himself between them. your fingers are quick to tangle in his hair and you almost hear him purr. “not too long, i suppose. but you’ll need to be quicker next time, or else i won’t be so forgiving.”
the duke in your hold smirks widely, and you feel a pulse between your thighs at the sight. “understood.” wriothesley presses a quick peck to your nose and you giggle; the sound is music to his ears, but as he travels down your body, he’s in search for a much different tune. he hikes up your — his — shirt and sighs at the sight of your panties, which he’s swift to hook two fingers underneath. he tugs them to the side and you so obediently widen your legs for him, to show him. “mmh, guess this means i’ve got some making up to do, huh?”
you don’t get to respond. well, not with words at least. you’re gasping when his lips wrap around your clit and suck, your fingers that are still in his hair tugging at the sudden sensation. “wriothesley!”
he smirks against your sex before offering another suctioned kiss to your mound. he follows it up with long swipe of his tongue through your folds and he earns himself the most precious moan from you. “you’ve got the prettiest and sweetest little pussy, darlin’. been missing her so much.”
you burn red at his words. soon enough he’s making a sticky mess between your thighs, and all you can do is lay there and take it while he laps up your essence like a dog. “fuck, wrio! that…that feels so good!” your legs are beginning to shake as he winds you up to your release.
“is that right, darlin?” wriothesley gleams up at you, distracting you with his devilishly handsome face while his fingers sneak their way to your entrance. he might not be punctual in getting back home to you tonight, but he’s eager to get in your good graces once again.
— zhongli 𝜗𝜚
zhongli thinks that maybe he’s getting too old for this after yet another errand for the wangsheng funeral parlor. there’s been an uptick in responsibilities recently, and the ever energetic director has been full of many requests for the consultant. and he powers through them, but all zhongli can focus on is the way he misses you terribly. all he wants is to get home to you at a decent hour, to spend time with you for a moment before you both have to retire for the night to prepare for the day ahead. it’s a domestic lifestyle the ex geo archon finds himself, working a steady job with a wonderful spouse waiting for him at home. he doesn’t want it another way truly. the only time he grows tired is when his work life overwhelms his personal one, leaving him with less time with you.
zhongli ponders back on this morning; you underneath him, your hands in his hair, his name on your pretty lips as he fills you with two long fingers. the way your back arches into him, the way you shudder and weep. it’s so clear in his mind, him so close to taking you on his cock before he realizes just how late he’s running for work. he never got to have you, to relish in your tightness, and he swears he hasn’t been able to get over it all day. the desire to have you grows the closer he gets home; he wonders if you’re still awake, and he also wonders if he’ll have the self control to not wake you up if you aren’t. he gets his answer when he walks into your shared home, his eyes finding you quickly.
you’re seated at the dining room table. you look so beautiful, and there’s a pot of tea with two cups sitting in front of you. you smile as he draws nearer. “welcome home,” you greet him. “i figured i’d wait up for you, and brew you a pot of tea. i know you’ve been working so hard lately.”
the god of old’s heart swells in chest. he smiles warmly. “you’re always so good to me, my dearest,” he praises as he closes the distance with a few more strides. when he’s able, he reaches out to cup your face, thumb smoothing over your cheek affectionately. he leans down to capture your lips in a kiss, and oh, how he’s missed you.
you hum in delight and look up at him with eyes so beautiful they might just bring this ex archon to his knees. you giggle when he dives back in for another kiss, and then another, and then one more. this one lasts, it’s slow and languid. but then you reach and grasp his collar to pull him closer, and suddenly the atmosphere in the room changes.
it makes zhongli pause and chuckle, and he casts an almost apologetic glance at the teapot. “mmh, the tea will get cold…” he follows up his words with another searing kiss and clearly neither of you are too concerned with the tea. he’s handsy with you now and desperate to feel you, to pick back up where you both had left off this morning. he’s so hard, cock straining in his trousers, and when he plants you on the table and slips his fingers passed your underwear, he feels how aroused you are as well. you’re slippery with slick, and he groans. “my dearest, i simply must have you, is that alright?”
you nod eagerly. “y-yes, zhongli. please.” he absolutely cannot deny you when you sound so sweet.
which is why you find yourself a while later with your legs pinned to the table, your back arched in pleasure, and his cock nestled deep within your sodden cunt. the poor teacups rattle with every thrust of his hips, and even the table itself can’t withstand the way he takes you, the wooden furniture skidding across the floor. you’re so tight and warm and perfect around him. it’s maddening, and his large hands are squeezing your waist to keep himself grounded to reality. his tip kisses your womb repeatedly and you wail out his name. this is everything he’s been aching for all day. “so good for me. taking me so well, my dearest,” he groans. “i will never tire of coming home to you and this wonderful little pussy of yours.”
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nat’s notes — if you’ve read until this point, thank you! this is my first fic/first time writing for genshin impact. so i figured this is the best time to introduce myself. i’m loveliluc aka nat! i’m new in the genshin impact fandom space, and new to the game overall as i only just started playing back in early september. guess you could say i’ve very much fallen down the genshin rabbit hole lol. i hope you enjoyed this first piece, and i look forward to posting more! would love any support on this, and would love to create new moots going forward. i also ask for patience as i am still getting to know many of the genshin characters so sorry if i write anyone ooc. thank you! <3
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reignpage · 3 days ago
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S o M e a n !
You're gonna give me a cardiac arrest
Warnings: 18+ minors and ageless blogs dni, pure smut, cowgirl, slight exhibitionism, spitting, teasing, edging, overstimulation, nipple play, creampie, unprotected sex, cum play, cum eating, face slapping, sub!choso, not proofread
“Ngh, not so fast!” 
Choso’s laid out all pretty for you. His hair’s ruffled and unravelling out of his ponytails, black shirt ridden all the way to his chin, and you had long thrown away his pants. There are faint stains of lipstick, your lipstick, on his mouth, drawing your attention to his plump lips, stretching into an O as he throws his head back. 
“Cho,” you giggle, fingernails dragging down his torso, “you need to stop wriggling around, baby.”
He hiccups, breathing hard and fast whilst he drowns in pleasure. You can tell your boyfriend’s trying his very bestest to stay in the moment, to not lose himself to the growing wave of euphoria within arm’s reach, and it only makes you wetter. 
You lift your hips all the way, until just his tip’s inside. Waiting and waiting until he opens his eyes in confusion, and as soon as his teary gaze meet yours, you slam down. 
“FUCK!”
His abs clench and you feel the hard ridges below your palm. His skin’s so perfect and you can’t help leaning down to press your front to his just so you can lick a stripe up his neck. Choso shivers. Oh and his eyes ares shutting in focus when you flick both of his nipples. He hates when you do that. They’re too sensitive and you never hesitate to use them against him, to make him let out those unmanly mewls. 
He’s whining and whimpering, positively drunk on the feel of you squeezing and pulsing around his heavy cock. “Fuckfuckfuckfuck, gonna cum, please!” 
His room’s filled with the filthy sounds of your rough fucking. Always so rough, so mean and cruel. 
Slapping skin, moans and groans, rickety bed, slamming headboard, and underneath it all, is a noise that he’s trying hard to ignore, lest he bursts his load into you before you even cum. Like last time. And the time before that. God, it happened way too often, and he was always so embarrassed, but you would only give him that sweet smile, and climb all the way up his body, hovering until he begged for a taste, to make it up to, to make you forget.  
When you swivel your hips around, his cock head presses against that spongy spot inside of you that makes you see stars. You grab his hands that are clawing at your hips, torn between slowing you down and holding you steady, and you bring them up to cup your tits. Instinctively, he’s groping and pinching and loving the weight of them in his palms. The boy’s obsessed with your tits, could suck at them for hours, had even cum in his pants from the first time you let him cop a feel, and he can’t fall asleep unless he’s buried between them.
“So pretty -ngh- so fucking pretty. You s-smell really good, really really good. Oh, god…..Don’t stop!” He’s making shallow thrusts upwards like his hips had a mind of their own, like he wants to bury himself inside you. And well, of course he does, you just feel so good, so warm, so wet. 
He’s close, could feel the tell-tale signs of his orgasm rising and rising until…
You pause. 
His eyes dart to you in a panic and you coo. 
So adorable. 
“My friend’s calling me, Cho.”
They are?
He didn’t notice the phone ringing, and when you stretch over his body to reach the nightstand, he’s confused. But he continues to grope your tits, sucking any area of skin he can reach before you’re leaning back to answer the call. Choso has no idea what’s happening, but he doesn’t question you. Maybe it’s a really important call.
“Oh, hey! No, I’m not busy.” His brows furrow and you can’t resist swiping a thumb across his pout. “Yeah, tell me all about your date.”
‘But you were both feeling good, why do you have to answer the call?’ Is what he wants to say but there’s a glint in your eyes that holds him back. Choso gulps. 
And then you’re moving your hips again, slowly, just in circles. You’re grinding down on him, lids fluttering shut at the feel of the coarse hairs at his based rubbing just right against your clit. The phone is pressed to your ear and through the sheer power of being a maneater, you’re holding back your moans. This isn’t about you, not right now. 
Not until you can make him squirt, until he’s overstimulated and he doesn’t even know what day it is, or what his name is. 
“He didn’t hold the door open for you? That’s terrible!” The way you say it, with an indignant tone, makes Choso glad he always opens the door. And you know he’s a good boy, always has been, so you lean forward again, pulling down his bottom lip with your thumb and he breathes hard. He loves when you do this. 
You spit in his mouth and he’s gulping it down like a man in a desert. His cock throbs inside of you and in a flash, like a switch has been turned on, his arms are wrapping around your waist and holding your head down, and he’s kissing you. It’s messy, and he’s sucking on your tongue and nipping your lips. Oh, god, it’s pure heaven to feel the weight of you on him, to feel your nipples cutting into his, and the smoothness of your body so easily accessible. His grip is tight and you can hear your friend calling your name. 
Muting your phone, you pull away and there’s a resounding -SMACK!- echoing through the room. You slapped him. Not hard, could never be too hard, but it’s making his bottom lip quiver as if it had been. You glare a warning at him and he nods, hands loosening and holding your hips instead. 
Continuing the conversation with your friend, you start circling your hips again, and he rubs his thumbs over your hip bone as an apology, willing warmth into your skin. 
Choso doesn’t want to make you mad and it’s killing him that he disappointed you, that he couldn’t keep his urges in check. He’s been bad and he wouldn’t be surprised if you left him, but you don’t, and he’s pouting again. 
You’re so forgiving, so kind, so nice. 
He doesn’t deserve you. 
You know that’s bullshit. If anything, you don’t deserve him. He’s so pliant, always just so happy to be there, to be needed by you, to make you happy any way he can. You know he’d do anything for you. Aside from his amazing dick, you love that most about him. 
Enough teasing, you decide. 
“Yeah, just do your laundry, I’ll wait,” you tell your friend. 
Setting the phone down right next to Choso’s head, you ignore the wide-eyed panicked look he gives you. 
Okay, maybe just a little bit more. 
“Cho,” your voice is like saccharine music, so breathy and light and his heart jumps at the way you elongate his name, “you’re going to have to be quiet, okay?”
He nods furiously. 
And then you’re bouncing on his thighs like there’s no tomorrow, and he changes his mind; you aren’t forgiving, kind or nice at all. You’re very mean, because how can you possibly expect him to hold back the moans building in his chest when you’re riding him so good, so fast, and clamping down until he feels suffocated. 
It’s all too much so soon and he’s biting his bottom lip, fingers bruising as he clutches your hips and then your tits and back to your hips. He doesn’t know what to do except take it. So he does, he accept the pummelling of your squelching pussy, entranced by the white ring forming at the base of his cock, and doesn’t care that his orgasm is cresting again. 
If he cums too fast, it’s your fault. 
“Baby, -ngh- please, I can’t,” he mutters. He doesn’t know where to look either, he’s going lightheaded from the frantic darting of his eyes from where you’re both connected to your bouncing tits and your scrunched up face. “I wanna -fuck- cum, wanna cum inside, please? Can I? Can I?”
Choso’s muttering your name like a prayer, punctuating it with grunts every time you slam back down a little too hard or when his tip brushes your cervix like a kiss. “Don’t wanna be quiet, y/n, please.”
He doesn’t know how long it’s been, maybe hours, maybe seconds, but all he does know is that he needs to cum inside, desperately needs to. He thinks he might just die if he doesn’t. 
“Yeah, go ahead, Cho.” 
That’s all he needs. 
“Fuckfuckfuck, so good so good. I love you, love you, love you…”
Warm liquid pulses through you, painting your insides white, and he drags you over with him. His cum burns like a brand, reaching your very depths, and you swear you feel it fill your heart. You’re spasming, falling forward and moaning unashamedly into his neck as he clutches you to him. You both shake, whining, goosebumps rising along your skin. 
Choso’s loud. He’s thanking you again and again. And you continue to milk him, pumping your hips absentmindedly whilst you come down. But it’s too much for your boyfriend and his cock can’t take anymore, it’s throbbing inside of you as if spurting blanks, and he’s losing his mind. 
“No! N-no more, please, baby. I can’t. It’s -ngh!- too much.”
You stop, huffing a laugh. Peppering kisses against his chin, you wait for him to catch his breath, watching his eyelashes flutter, waiting for that furrowing of his brows to soften and for his hands to stop bruising your skin. He melts like putty underneath you and a smile grows on his lips. 
He feels like he just went to heaven and back. 
But then he tenses. 
“Your friend!”
And you giggle, climbing up to fill his gaping mouth with your tit and he sucks without complaint. “Relax, Cho Cho. I ended the call ages ago.”
Oh, you are mean. So very very mean. 
His tongue flicks your nipple, savouring the salt on your skin as he tries to engulf as much of your breast into his mouth. But you also tastes so good. 
Choso whimpers in protest when you pull away and just as quickly quiets down when you climb higher until your pussy is right in front of him, and he’s watching your puckering hole squeeze out his cum onto his face. He licks it up and his eyes roll back, flaccid cock twitching, at the taste of you and him. 
You don’t sit down though, instead you just slide a finger inside, twisting, scraping his cum out for him to drink. You never let him have it easy, always have to make him work for it. 
And that’s just fine with Choso, because he’s happy to have you in anyway you’ll let him. 
Someone has to be the nice to your evil, after all. 
478 notes · View notes
emmyrosee · 2 days ago
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“Does it bother you that you have no nicknames?”
Your question snaps Rin out of his reading, moving his book from his face to look down at you with a brow raised. You’d been resting with your head on his chest, ear listening to his heartbeat and letting his breathing pattern relax you. “What?”
You shrug softly, “well, like, your name is Rin.”
“Cognizance is amazing, isn’t it?”
You laugh and burrow your face in his sternum, and you hear him close his book and rest his arms on your back, gently letting his thumb stroke up and down your spine. “But like, does it bother you?”
“I don’t understand your question,” he says, annoyance in his voice. “You call me some of the utmost feral things a person could be called; do you honestly think you need more things to call me?”
“Name one feral thing I call you.”
“Youve called me your ‘little sugar booger bear’ in front of my teammates.”
Once again, you laugh, despite Rin’s deadpan expression, “you say it like you don’t love it,” you say, scooting up to be nose to nose with him. He clicks his tongue and tries to reel his head back, to no avail thanks to the pillow propping his head.
“You’re too close.”
“But you’re so sad about not having a nickname, I feel like I need to comfort you,” you pout.
“No? I’m not?”
“It’s okay, baby,” you mewl, kissing his nose and burrowing into the crook of his neck. He smells clean but familiar, warm and loving despite his cool facade he smacks on, and you feel his breathing hitch as your breath tickles his neck. “My pookie rin-rin man.”
“Eugh.”
“My stinkle perfect better half.”
“Vile.”
“My handsome Rin-Rinnie.”
“…”
“Rin?”
“I… dont… hatethatone.”
You gasp. He groans.
“RIN-RINNIEEEE-“
“Smite me.”
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luveline · 19 hours ago
Note
If you are still writing for bombshell x Spencer could you write something from early seasons when he had feelings for JJ 👉🏻👈🏻
Hotch told you once that he was tempted to put an automatic lock on the office doors, so that he can lock them when he sees you coming during your working hours. 
He has yet to follow through. You slip in through the doors and take a deep breath. It smells like coffee, printer paper, all the same stuff as your own office, but your office doesn’t have Aaron Hotchner, Derek Morgan, or Spencer Reid. 
“Neither does this one, apparently,” you mumble to yourself, casting your gaze around the room to no avail. The boys aren’t here. 
Emily’s sitting at her desk. She’s new, you’re jealous of her job, but she’s gorgeous. You won’t mind sitting at Spencer’s desk until they get back. “Hello,” you drawl, setting down in Spencer’s chair comfortably. 
Emily’s mildly startled. “Hey?”
Spencer’s desk is an explosion. You debate cleaning up for him. What if you put something in the wrong place? It’ll be more annoying than helpful. “How are things?” you ask, pushing Spencer’s chair back, and kicking a leg over your knee, high heel bobbing. 
“What?” 
You smile at her. Flirting, just a little, but your concern is real. “How are things going, Prentiss? With you?” 
“They’re good. Yeah. I just moved into my new place.” 
Bless her for not knowing what to do with you. She doesn’t have practice like the rest. “A new place? Where to?” 
She relaxes while you talk. Her apartment overlooking Kingman, her cat’s annoyance at the new smells and the long case time away. “Spencer says that cats aren’t capable of holding grudges, but Sergei can.” 
“He’s cute, isn’t he? He knows a fun fact for everything.” 
Emily sits up. You can see the excitement of a secret in her dark eyes. “He’s adorable. His little crush on JJ is so sweet, I’ve tried to give him some advice but he’s totally stuck on her.” You falter. And Emily, profiler in training, she catches it. Her lips part, startled. “You’re not–”
“I had no idea Spencer had a little crush,” you breathe, sitting up with a smile. “For how long? What about JJ, is she interested in him?” You hug your hands together. “You know, I think they’d make a cute couple.”
“Well, I heard they went to a football game together, but I don’t know when. Before I got here, at least.” 
What? “That’s fun.”
“I don’t think it’s serious.”
You tip your head back and the heavens have opened, Derek Morgan’s making his way toward you with a grin and a hand reaching for you. “Sweetheart, where have you been?” he asks. “It’s been weeks, I was starting to miss you.” 
You texted him a few days ago about a property nearby for rent, and you had coffee the day after to hear his advice on the area, so he’s just making stuff up. “Hi, Derek.” 
You get up and let him hug you. You deserve it. You’re beautiful and fun and smart, and you deserve a handsome man rubbing your arm and telling you he missed you. “How much?” you ask warmly. 
“Like a hole in the head.” 
Hotch is behind him. And there, the surprise item of the afternoon, Spencer Cheating Reid. 
“Hi, Hotch,” you say. 
“I heard something about you I’d rather not repeat,” he says. 
“Hotch, the details were wildly exaggerated, and I was less at fault than you might think.”
“I thought it was entirely your fault.” He shakes his head. “You’re shooting yourself in the foot, doing things like that.” 
“Why, what did you do?” Spencer asks. 
You falter again. Everyone sees your insecurity: Hotch’s brow furrows deeper than it had been, Morgan pauses, and Spencer, to your panic, holds your eye as the emotion passes. “It’s not worth talking about,” you say, shrugging. 
“Try not to do it again,” Hotch says. “Morgan, with me.” 
“Uh, Hotch?” Emily speaks up. 
“You too, Prentiss.” 
He leads a procession up to his office. Morgan throws you a look like he wants to talk to you, but you’ve plastered unaffectedness over the wound again. Why does the idea of JJ and Spencer going on a date upset you? He’s a sweet guy, she’s a nice girl. Is it because you didn’t know? 
“You really haven’t been here in weeks,” Spencer says. 
“Missed me?” 
He holds the strap of his bag. “Yeah, I did.” 
What use does he have missing you? “I heard something interesting about you, Spencer.” 
“You did?”
He looks shy, pale, and worried. You forget sometimes how he’s not just your favourite dork, he’s a friend. And he doesn’t seem to have very many of them. 
Oh, you think, jealousy, you heartless monster. 
“The rumour mill says you aren’t sleeping enough,” you say gently. 
“I sleep fine.”
You put one kitten heel in front of the other and stay, squinting at him with a teasing suspicion. “That’s not what my informants have been telling me. You look tired, honey. You aren’t sleeping, or Hotch won’t let you?” 
“Both.” 
He does that playful smiley thing that makes you wanna scrunch his hair in your hands, like he knows he’s made a good joke. 
“Your case in Cincinnati sounded tough.” 
“Wait,” he says. 
“What?” 
“Are you okay?” 
“Usually. Why?” 
“Are you okay right now?” 
“I’m fine.” You purse your lips. “Why wouldn’t I be?” 
“Just– you– I don’t know, you didn’t seem like yourself. I didn’t mean to upset you, asking about that stuff. It’s none of my business, sorry.” 
“How are you feeling about physical touch today?” you ask. 
He seems to regard you with distrust, for a few seconds, like he’s worried you’re messing with him. “I’m okay with it,” he says eventually. 
You step into his space and touch his cheek gently, fingertip tapping into a beauty mark you often remember only when he’s in your reach. “You didn’t say anything wrong. I’m sorry I made you think that.” You drop your hand. “Just having a weird day.” 
“Me too.” 
Spencer puts his bag under his desk and mentions a video he found on profiling you might like by one of the old Unit Chief’s, SSA David Rossi. You steal Derek’s chair and sit knee to knee with him to watch it, Spencer’s cheeks turning dark with blush in the screen’s reflection. 
Can JJ make him blush like that? 
bombshell fics
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shiimmer · 3 days ago
Text
cherry kiss
sevika x f!stripper!reader
warnings! pole dancing (if that can be taken as a warning), public sex(??), fingering, orgasm denial, pussy slapping, slight choking, cunnilingus, masturbating, hair pulling, dom!sevika, sub!reader, sevika is a bit mean but we love it, she gets called ma’am once
men and minors dni!!
no mentions of y/n, but reader is called by her stage name cherry
word count: 3.4k words (i got a little too passionate…)
ৎ୭ summary: sevika found herself in a strip club, only to end up getting a lot more than a simple lap dance.
note: wrote smut for the first time in years, and idk how to feel. excuse me if this is absolutely shit, i was sleep deprived every time i was writing this. sorry for any errors, english isn’t my first language. not proofread!!
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it isn’t exactly the place sevika usually finds herself in. strip clubs are not her thing. she prefers action over mere watching, but today just wasn’t it. not even a good lay in babette’s brothel can save her sour mood, which is more than surprising even for her. she doesn’t even know why she’s here. she just needs a distraction, and she knows the quietness of her place would only deepen her stress, which is something she really does not want right now, no matter how well she can handle it.
so here she is, in a strip club, surrounded by cheap smelling perfume, neon signs casting some light around the dimly lit place. boasting laughter, cheers and all sorts of other noises she’d rather block out from men around her fill her ears as they watch women dancing on the stage and sway around the pole. sevika, however, is completely silent. almost eerily so.
she just watches. glares, more like as she sits in the booth, awaiting another stripper nicknamed cherry, as the announcer says. ‘silly choice of a name,’ she thinks. her leg bounces under the table, swirling the whisky she just took a sip of on her tongue as the curtain spreads open, revealing you, and her body goes still. it’s like a spell, and sevika isn’t quite sure what has her so mesmerized the second you appear on that long, runway-like stage, neon lights shining on your almost naked body, the way they enhance the confident aura you give out. her grey eyes are focused solely on you, almost as if she’s judging your every movement. from the sway of your hips, to the subtle bounce of your breasts in that skimpy red bra as you stride toward the pole and your fingers wrap around the metal one by one.
a low hum rumbles in the back of her throat, a mixture of curiosity and appreciation while watching you perform. you clearly know what you’re doing, that sevika can see, and it works. even on her. she’d rather die than admit it out loud to anyone, but you have your charm to you and she likes it.
it’s like she’s not even blinking, at least that’s how it feels to you. you notice the woman’s gaze the second you approach the pole, and how it never moves away, not even when she takes a sip of her whisky. your coworkers shared their experience whenever they left the stage, saying how sevika’s glare caused them to nearly mess up their performance. in all honesty, it had made you nervous yourself while you waited for your own turn. dancing before a woman of such power, it’s nothing like dancing for all those nobodies who salivate over a sliver of skin shown. but as you had taken a first step on that stage, with your gaze immediately falling on her, all of that vanishes into something else, something you just can’t explain with words.
you give it your all, making sure to give her the show she never forgets and possibly needs, based on the worn out look she wears on her face. your body moves to the rhythm of the same song you always have to dance to. the song you’re normally so sick of, now gives you a rush. you dance with newfound passion, happy to show off your skills and body to silco’s number two. you play with her, yet you give her the most of you. fingertips lingering on your skin a second longer as you caress your body, from your hips to your breasts. looking over your shoulder when you’re turned towards the pole, the corners of your lips twitching up when you bend forward, showing off your thong-clad rear. it’s all for her, and you are absolutely enjoying the attention.
the endless cheering and lewd comments from men are fully blocked in your mind, your goal as clear as piltover’s sky. you want to make this woman watch you until the very end, to have her gaze on you and you only.
and oh, does it work. sevika’s gaze does not move away from you even when your performance ends and you go back backstage, and you’re certain her eyes are focused on your thighs as you walk. the euphoria you feel after this dance was nothing you’ve ever experienced. for the first time since working here, you’re almost disappointed that you had to leave the stage. your theme song that usually drags on suddenly felt short. you want to give her more of you, all of you.
you sulk in your seat, fixing up your neatly done makeup. there isn’t any need to fix it, you just want to get your mind off of the woman, but it’s completely useless. her grey eyes pollute your brain, and you can still see them when you close your eyes. never in your life were you this desperate for someone, it’s almost embarrassing. you sigh and put the makeup brush done, pursing your lips together. you wonder if you’ll see her again, if you’ll get to dance for her just like you had just a moment ago. you would give her more than just a plain dance show, so much more.
your thoughts get abruptly interrupted by your boss, her voice loud and demanding as she calls out to you. all you can do is hold back an eye roll and get up from the chair, making her way over to her with a look that can only be described as ‘i don’t get paid enough for this.’
“you’re expected in the vip salon,” she bites, her wrinkles crinkling under that heavy layer of makeup. “it’s a very important guest. don’t fuck it up.”
she taps your chest with her point finger, long nail stabbing your skin, and leaves the backstage. you watch her arrogant stomp, scoffing under your breath as soon as she’s far enough from you to not hear it. she calls every guest important, even the scummiest man in zaun is a ‘special guest.’ you know why she says it, she wants you to do your best, to not embarrass her brand, but it quickly gets annoying than encouraging.
your heels thump against the floor as you walk slowly to the salon, your mind running at full speed. you can only hope it’s sevika, but a part of you doubts it. there is no way she liked your performance so much she’d pay for private dance, right?
oh, how wrong you were.
the second you open the fluffy curtain, you’re met with those same steel eyes, belonging to none other than sevika. you eye her up and down, taking in the way she sits on the couch, her muscular thighs spread open and her exposed arm thrown over the backrest. you linger on the bare part of her lower stomach, abs peeking out of the crop top and v-line disappearing under the waistband of her pants. it’s a downright sinful sight, almost picture worthy.
“i didn’t pay for you to just stand there, did i?” her deep voice catches you off guard, and your eyes travel back up to her face. she’s smirking at you, fully aware of your gawking.
you can only pray to janna to survive this dance, secluded in a small room with this dangerously sexy woman.
“right. sorry,” you give her a small apologetic grin while walking to the small music box in the corner to tune in a song.
your hands are shaking a little, but it’s hardly nervousness. it’s excitement, anticipation, maybe even a hint of arousal. your blood is running hot, and you can feel a kick of energy, as if dosed on shimmer. none of your customers made you feel this way, but her.
your hands are already wrapped around the silver pole with your back facing her, ready to move to the music until her voice echoed in your ears.
“come here.”
your whole body stiffens, the music blocked out in your mind. being a stripper for years, never had you actually danced in front of a client. it’s sort of a rule for you; just watch but no touch, but when it comes to sevika, you are more than ready to forget it all just to please her. you pull yourself away from the pole and walk up to her, hands running over your sides. her eyes never leave your face and, by the gods, shivers run down your spine in waves, running all the way between your legs.
three more steps, and you finally stand between her spread thighs, and only now that you stand so close you notice just how damn thick they are. she looked better up close, no art or photo of her could do her justice, that you are sure of. a smirk makes its way on sevika’s lips as she watches your hips sway, your fingertips tap and stroke your skin. she is so into it, her hand is practically itching to just grab you by the waist and drag you down on her thigh.
it’s as if your minds link for a moment, because your smaller hand finds hers, guiding it to your stomach. sevika doesn’t react, at least not visibly, though you can’t say that about yourself. the second her rough, calloused palm runs over your abdomen to your hip, your body reacts on its own, almost like it isn’t even connected to your brain. she pulls you down on her leg, chuckling under her breath as your breath hitches. she has you where she wants you, and you can only comply to her every wish.
“babette’s is a few blocks away, y’know?” you mutter breathlessly, and you can only curse yourself out for how affected you are by her mere presence. it’s embarrassing, humiliating even, but you are oh so close to not give a single fuck. “someone can catch us here.”
sevika chuckles once more, liking your slightly mouthy attitude. it makes her want to put you in your place, take out her bad mood on you in all the ways she can. “by the way you’re reacting, i doubt you even give a damn,” her voice fills your ears, laced with a playful biting tone. “cherry.”
you suddenly feel coldness of a metal on your arm, pointy ridges of metal fingers digging into the flesh. she moves you around like a rag doll, like you weight nothing to her, until you straddle both of her legs and your thighs are spread apart. “tell me, what kind of services can you offer for extra coin?” she teases you, her thick fingers toying and pulling on the string of your thongs, making it snap back to your skin. “besides a little lap dance.”
the air is thick with tension, pushing down on your shoulders. it’s an intense, sexual sensation, one you can barely get enough of. you feel as if you are getting dragged by the ankle into the deep pit of unbridled lust, and it bubbles deep in your belly. you crave her.
you yearn for her.
“for you? anything,” you muster up the last bits of your attitude and smirk at her, your hand coming up to her right shoulder to steady yourself. “free of charge.”
it’s all sevika needs, and in a matter of seconds, she pounces on you, her lips running along your pulse. she doesn’t kiss, not yet. she merely toys with you, shapes you to her liking until you are but a mess. every touch of hers has a purpose, and unlike in a brothel, she is taking her sweet damn time. she’s frustrating herself by this point, all of the shit she had to deal with were simmering under the lid and ready to leak out, but something in her told her to utterly wreck you.
the music continues to play, silencing every small noise that escapes from your mouth. her fingers start to travel lower, following the fabric of the lace until the fingertips hover just above your clothed clit. she doesn’t even brush over it, yet you can feel your cunt clench around nothing. you bit on your bottom lip as sevika’s fingers linger on your thong, cheap cherry taste of your lipstick hitting your tongue.
“means that i can do this, right?” she asks into your skin, finally putting pressure on your clit. you jump in her lap, the sudden touch making you flinch away.
sevika doesn’t let you move away. she only chuckles when her mechanical arm goes down to your hip, pinning you to her lap like you are her trophy. there is no way she’s letting you go now, she wants to see you tremble.
your mind is hazy, and so foggy you can barely think of anything other than her, and the feeling of her fingers circling over your sensitive clit.
“do anything you want. i’m here to give you a show, aren’t i?” you try to keep your bravado, but it collapses like a house of cards the second her hand slips under the fabric, touching your cunt.
“fuck, you’re wet,” she laughs at you, pulling away from the crook of your neck to look into your eyes. “are you that desperate, or what?”
you cry out in pleasure as an answer, which is all she needs. her fingers tease your clit, circling it, pinching it between her thumb and point finger, which only makes you wetter for her. it’s as if you’ve never had a good fuck in your life, and she is there to fix that.
sevika continues to tease you for a few lingering seconds, simply enjoying the sight of you crumbling beneath her touch, until she moves lower and leaves your swollen bundle of nerves twitching, yearning for contact. she doesn’t waste time to slip not one, but two of her fingers into your drenched hole, stretching it out.
“oh fuck,” you groan out once you feel her fingers move, pumping into you in a rough, but slow pace.
she keeps them curled just right, brushing over that sweet spot that makes your back arch and your eyes roll back. it’s clear that she is experienced, because she knows just how to touch you to keep you shivering in her lap. you drop your head to look at her hand moving between your legs, but sevika doesn’t allow you that for long.
her prosthetic hand shoots up to your neck, cocking your head upwards to keep you from looking away. she only applies little pressure to your throat, not hard enough to choke you out, but rather a little warning.
“eyes on me, cherry,” she rasps out, her eyes so intense it sends shivers down your spine. “be a good girl.”
her voice has you clenching around her fingers, pathetic mewls of pleasure rolling out of your mouth. you have no choice but to keep your gaze on her, your sight blurry and slightly unfocused as sevika’s fingers continue to fuck your cunt. as much as she enjoys the sounds you’re making, your voice is slowly starting to get louder than the music that still plays in the background.
with the metal hand on your throat, she tugs you forward, crashing her lips on your in a bruising kiss to swallow the moans you’re letting out. she doesn’t give you a chance to let you dominate the kiss as her tongue slides into your mouth. she is in charge, and she’s letting you know it.
the taste of hard liquor and smoke hits your tongue, but you’re too deep in pleasure to cringe at the taste. in all honesty it turns you on even more. the sensation of her thick fingers, pumping in and out of your drenched pussy combined with her mouth on yours make you go crazy. you are so close, your orgasm just a few thrusts away.
the way your walls clench and unclench tells sevika that you’re about to cum, but where is the fun in giving you what you want so early. she pulls her fingers out, and when you try to whine in protest, she lands a few hard smacks on your cunt. you can feel the slaps even through the fabric of your lingerie, that’s how rough she is.
“not yet, cherry. i’m far from done with you,” she mumbles when she pulls away from the kiss, her lips glistening with the mixture of your and her saliva. she grins, reaching for one of many fluffy cushions and throwing it on the floor underneath you. “on your knees.”
she lets go of your throat, letting you sink down on the floor. your knees nuzzle into the softness of the pillow, hands falling on the buckle of her belt to undo it. sevika lifts her hips when you unbutton her pants, letting you pull them down along with her underwear. she pulls one leg out to spread her legs more, giving you space to get closer.
you don’t dive in right away. instead, you run your tongue over her thighs, all while looking up at her. it’s like your little revenge on her for teasing you before, and for not letting you cum. sevika grits her teeth, her nostrils flaring a little. a woman normally with patience of steel is suddenly a ticking bomb, ready to explode.
her real hand moves to your hair, grabbing a fistful of the strands. she doesn’t pull at it, but her grip is tight. “don’t test my patience. not today.”
the tone of her voice, authoritative and commanding gives you chills, your cunt once again clenching around nothing. your eyes wander over her body until it stops on the wet mess between her muscular legs, and that’s all it takes to convince you to give her what she wants.
“yes, ma’am,” you whisper, and sevika’s grip on your hair loosens just enough for you to move.
with one final glance at her face, you delve your tongue into her cunt, moaning at the taste of her. your nose nudges against her swollen clit, which makes her let out a deep moan. her whole expression falters as you eat her out, curses and noises escaping her mouth like a mantra, a sinful prayer.
“you’re good, cherry,” she praises you breathlessly, fingers combing through your hair. “you sure you – oh, fuck – didn’t choose a wrong profession?”
you don’t give her an answer, your mouth being too busy with her pussy to talk. you eat her like a woman starved, like she is your last meal. you can feel her slick staining your chin, but you can hardly care. you only have one goal in mind, and that’s to take her over the edge.
your own cunt throbs whenever she moans, or accidentally tugs at your hair when your tongue laps at her clit. you’re desperate for release, just as you are desperate for her. your hand slowly slides into your panties, chasing your orgasm as your fingers rub your clit.
sevika can see what you’re doing, but all she can think about is how well your mouth pleases her. she tries to compose herself, to last longer, but the burning sensation in the pit of her stomach is getting unbearable, the coil ready to snap at any moment. all she needs is one final push.
and you give it to her. your lips wrap around her clit, sucking on it, which is what sends sevika over the edge. she throws her head back and moans out loud, not even caring who might hear outside of the salon. she cums into your mouth, her thighs squeezing your head. your own orgasm follows right after, and you whimper into her cunt. your back arches, you can’t pull away nor can you catch a breath, not when her muscular thighs keep you in a lock. your whole lower face is buried in her cunt for a few seconds, and you have to tap on her thigh to let you go, your lungs begging for air.
she looks down at you and realization hits her, her legs spreading apart again to let you move. you both gasp for air when you pull away, pants filling the room. the music stopped playing a while ago, and it dawns on you that your time with her should’ve ended minutes ago. yet you find yourself unable to actually leave the salon, not when you have just silco’s second-in-command cum like that.
sevika, who is not in a better state than you, feels the same. she grins down at you, her hand caressing your hair with gentleness that’s almost uncharacteristic to her.
“you may be a stripper, cherry, but i think you just found yourself a regular.”
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sugarlywhispers · 3 days ago
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b.katsuki x reader (fem) | quirkless!reader, prohero!dynamight, arranged marriage au.
a.n; fare warning, THIS IS A MONSTER<3 lol
Fuckin' Marry Me Series | First Part | Second Part |
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The gentle sound of the scribble your pen makes over the paper, right where it requires your formal signature, is heard louder than you expected in that tense silence. Well, it isn't a bad silence, but more like an anxious one. One that has Bakugou, who is sitting right next to you, literally shaking his right leg up and down continuously, even though you already told him you would do this.
And what does ‘this’ mean? It means you agreed to marry Bakugou-annoying ass-Katsuki. To help him finally be free from his own mother's clutches.
You had a hard time believing in the whole story he told you when he knocked on your door last Sunday morning –almost tearing down the door actually– after his father died. Even though you had agreed that same day, you asked him for a few days to clear your head a bit. He accepted, respecting your space even at work, which was weird.
A normal day at work always starts with a banter with this same man right at the entrance of the company and it follows until you enter the elevator. Everyone is already used to it, so they ignore both of you. It mostly ends when you have to get off on the floor where your office is, which is one under the one where all heroes keep their hero costumes and get changed. Of course, sometimes the banter would continue if you were assigned to work with Hero Dynamight through the earbuds that connected you at a distance.
That Monday morning though, was different. Weird for everyone who looked at both of you in shock. The moment you stood in front of the other right outside the company, everyone was waiting for it to happen, yet found themselves opening their eyes wide in surprise as you and Bakugou simply bowed slightly in hello and walked towards the building in complete silence. It followed inside the elevator, where he willingly stood next to you –you always stood on each side of it to avoid even accidentally touching. Nobody could believe their eyes. Especially when it was your moment to walk out on your floor and he said, “See ya’ around”, and you turned your head towards him and slightly smiled, murmuring a timidly, “You too. Take care outside.”
That day you weren't assigned to work with him, nor the two days after –in which these same actions and words were repeated by both of you every morning– yet you could feel the whispers and gossip around about this neutral ground between you two. Your boss even called you to his office to ask if everything was okay.
You internally laughed at the situation. It was so normal for you to fight with Bakugou that everyone found it weird and worrisome if you didn't. It was actually hilarious.
Wednesday shift had you entering the office at 5 p.m. and would have you leaving at almost 3 a.m. –if the hero assigned to you didn't get caught in a villain fight around that time. So when you were about to take the elevator and its door opened, you almost bumped into a freshly showered and already leaving Bakugou Katsuki.
“Oh, hey…”
“Hey,” he answered back. Both of you took a step out of the elevator, standing right in front of each other. One of his hands flew to the back of his head, scratching it and making small droplets of his still wet hair fall as he spoke, “I was, ummm, gonna talk to you today… but, umm, your shift…”
“Oh yeah, it's night shift today,” you nodded, hands holding the strap of your bag, trying to look casual and not let the nerves be shown. “Yours finished?”
“Yeah, tomorrow's night shift for me.”
“I know, I'm with you tomorrow,” you smiled.
His eyebrows pulled up, nodding in acceptance, “Cool.”
Yours frown, tilting your head a bit to the side, “Is it? Since when?” Now that you think about it, all that neutral ground between you two was very weird. New, but weird.
He rolled his eyes, hands hiding inside the pockets of his jacket.
“Since I'm trynna marry y–”
“Shhhh! Shut it, not here!” He smirked arrogantly. Ah, there's the comeback of the old annoying Bakugou.
“I–...”
“KATSUKI!” 
A screeching yell made the hairs of your arms stand in alert, completely unexpected for you. Yet for the man in front of you was a sound he was very familiar with. He grunted, his mood completely changing into anger as he turned around towards the yell.
“The fuck are you doing here, old hag?”
Oh. His mother.
You have seen her at a distance before, never actually got to meet her personally or even hear her voice –you were glad about that last particular fact though, she sounded awful.
You didn't miss to recognize the position Bakugou had you at the moment when he turned around and covered your small form behind his massive body from his mother to even acknowledge your presence there. You're grateful for his surprising and kind of sensitive tact. He's giving you an out from that, what you know for sure was going to be, a quite tense moment.
“I fucking told you, you need to hurry! I’m not fucking waiting for you any longer!” She yelled again, not caring at all about the place she was nor the people around in the lobby.
Bakugou looked to the side, taking a very deep breath before pinching his nose. His hand then hung loosely on the side of his body, but he kept opening and closing his hand in a fist. Oh wow, he was really holding himself back.
You didn't know what possessed you to do what you did or why, but you acted before thinking.
Your hand flew towards his, holding his trembling fist tightly. You knew it took him by surprise, but he hid it well by standing straighter, body still hiding you behind him. You knew for a fact that his face didn’t show any emotion other than anger, so nothing was amiss. His arm flexed behind him, bringing yours with his, as his hand opened and held yours tightly back.
This had been the very first time you willingly touched him. The first time you actually ever touched him at all. And your eyes couldn't leave the sight of his big hand fully surrounding yours, making you feel smaller than ever. I mean, you had eyes, he was a freaking hulk next to you. But the warm feeling of it enclosing yours securely made you feel safe, protected. It also felt calloused, a hand that was used every day to bring down bad guys and protect a whole nation, if not the world. Yet the warmth in it made your whole body tingle.
Fuck. What was this?
“I fuckin’ told you not to come in the first place,” he didn't need to yell, his voice sounded loud and clear even at the distance.
“HURRY THE FUCK UP!”
You tightened your hold on his hand, just to ground him in support. He sighed, returning the gesture to thank you before saying in his mother's direction, “I'm fuckin’ going, you pain in the ass”, and walked towards her, letting go of your hand.
His mother simply turned and walked in front of him outside of the building. She never realized you had been there the whole time.
The moment had been so stressful, and if that was what Bakugou had to deal with every day since he was born, damn. You actually felt sorry for him.
Thanks to the glass walls of the lobby you could watch the Bakugous walk towards the expensive car waiting for them outside. They were clearly shit-talking to each other the whole way, until before they got inside the car, his mother actually slapped the back of his head strongly. Twice.
A rising rage traveled up your body, hands closing in fists. What the fuck?! Who the fuck did she think she was? Why the hell did she need to fucking hit him like that, twice? Why the hell did she do it at all? Fuck, you were starting to believe in everything Bakugou told you about her.
“You get it now, don't you?” Izuku's voice from behind you made you jump a bit in surprise.
You cleared your throat, looking elsewhere and breathing deeply, trying to clear your head. 
“I don't–”
Izuku's hand raised, making you go silent. “Before you come up with a clever excuse, let me remind you that Kacchan and I have been friends since diapers… and we talk to each other.”
His eyeing made you gulp, but his words were clear enough, “You know then.”
He nodded, hand detaining the elevator’s doors so you both could enter, him after you. “He came to my apartment right after and told me all that happened. I was at the funeral too.”
He didn't need to explain anymore, it was more than clear he was talking about last Sunday when Bakugou asked you to marry him. You knew his father had died sometime Saturday afternoon and that the funeral was held that same night. Bakugou had come to your apartment right after his father had been cremated.
“I know you two fight like cats and dogs all the time, but he's not that bad once you give him a chance. And by what you just saw, I know you understand now why he's always on the defensive.”
You sigh. Damn it, you do. Growing up in an environment like that made you think it was actually a miracle Bakugou turned out the way he did.
“I also know that you agreed to marry him to help him be finally free from his mother,” he confirmed out loud once the doors of the elevator closed and it was just the two of you in there.
“Any advice?”
He chuckled, turning his whole body and looking directly at you, “Be open-minded. Kacchan's mouth sometimes opens before he thinks and his words don't mean what he actually intended, but his actions speak louder than anything.”
You rolled your eyes. Ugh, you were feeling the stress already.
The elevator signaled that you had arrived at your floor, so you sighed, nodding in his way as an answer and walking outside. But before the doors closed, Izuku held them for a bit longer to talk again.
“Also… Be smarter.”
“Than him?” You asked confused.
“Than her.”
And with that, he let the doors close, a smile plastered on his face that told on all the mischief his eyes shined with.
This little… cheeky bastard.
The audacity.
You made a mental note to punch Izuku the next time you bumped into him. On purpose.
Throughout the rest of the day, you couldn't get that image of Bakugou being abused by his own mother out of your head. Because yes, it was fucking abuse. And in fucking public! How many times had this happened already? And why the fuck no one had ever said or done anything against it? Even when he was a kid?!
It was outrageous.
And the fact that Bakugou held himself back, because you knew he did, not only because she was his mother but also because she was a woman –and you could bet she fucking used that at her advantage– only spoke about the kind of man he was.
Bakugou Katsuki is a good man.
You took your cell phone out and searched for his contact number, your fingers flying over the keyboard.
You: Make the appointment for this Friday.
His reply didn't take long.
Bakugou K.: Done.
You took a deep breath. The decision was made. And you were not going to back out from it. Or so you hoped.
Another notification made your phone ring and it was another text message.
Bakugou K.: Thank you.
The beginning of a smile threatened to break out from your mouth as you re-read that message several times. Until the loud pip-ing that alerted a villain attack completely distracted you, or more like, brought you back to reality.
The rest of the days went faster than you expected.
The shift on Wednesday ended on time, miraculously. So at exactly 3 a.m. you were turning off your computer and putting your stuff back in your bag. You had several notifications on your phone but didn't feel like giving them your attention at that moment, choosing to concentrate on clearing your space and going back home. You let out several yawns when you got inside the elevator, holding yourself on the handrail, sleep having you on the verge of passing out tired of the stressful days. For some reason, villains chose that week to be more active than usual, which demanded more of your focus and being in constant alert mode.
When the doors finally opened on the lobby floor, you walked towards the check-in clock to mark the end of your shift. You bowed goodbye to the receptionist and walked towards the entrance of the company. For a moment, you entertained your mind with the idea of taking a taxi to get home faster. But damn it, that was expensive, and you were not going to waste money like that. And even if you wanted to, you couldn't.
You sighed, covering your neck as best as you could with your coat once you crossed the doors, and began your walk in the direction you needed to go. It was a very chilly night, but because it was Spring, you didn't expect such cold weather.
You were thinking about how you'd have to resist this coldness until you got home when you looked up and recognized Bakugou's obviously expensive car and him resting against it, arms crossed over his chest.
“What are you doing here?”
“You didn't check your messages, short-legs?”
You denied, head shaking, “I finished the shift and packed everything. Wanted to leave as soon as possible…”
He snorted, shaking his head, “Get in. I'll take you home.”
“Oh, it's okay. I can walk…”
He frowned, “The fuck you think I would be here for then? Get in the car, dumbass.”
“Geez. Okay! No need to get grumpy, asshole.”
You rounded his car towards the passenger seat and climbed in. He followed and got on the driver's side.
The inside was warm, as the heater had been on. You smiled gladly, rubbing your freezing-cold hands to warm them up faster.
“Can't believe you were planning to walk home. Are you stupid?”
You opened your mouth, ready to fire back, but Izuku's words invaded your mind.
“…Kacchan's mouth sometimes opens before he thinks and his words don't mean what he actually intended, but his actions speak louder than anything…”
You thought for a moment, and it was actually easier than you thought to figure it out. Bakugou wasn't actually trying to insult you. He was worried that you would walk home that early in the morning, when the sun wasn't even out yet, in that weather.
Oh. That changed the perspective entirely.
“Yeah, actually,” you chuckled, hands still rubbing to heat them up. “I can't afford a taxi, and the subway isn't open yet.”
He turned on the car, but his attention was on you, “What you mean you can't afford a stupid taxi? Isn't your pay–…”
You denied, body relaxing a bit over the seat thanks to the warmth as he drove smoothly. You liked warm things. Spring was your favorite season because of it.
“Contrary to common belief, Quirk & Training Specialists don't gain much.”
“What?! Why? I mean… Most of the time is thanks to your area that we heroes are fuckin’ alive.”
“Awww. Thank you for admitting it! Now, would you admit that publicly?”
“Of fuckin’ course I would!”
You smiled, “Well, you would be the first one. Tell me, do you think other heroes would willingly admit that their wins sometimes belong to a ghost that tells them what to do or where to go through their earbuds?”
Your words made him close his mouth. Aha. Touché.
You chuckled, “It's okay, Bakugou. It's my job.”
“Now that I think about it, your name is nowhere to be seen in my reports. It's not even fuckin’ mentioned as a sidekick or something.”
“That's because I'm not a sidekick. I'm just a quirkless person who is observant enough to point you the best way to go. I'm not that important…”
“Shut the fuck up.”
You looked at him, trying to decipher what he meant. He didn't mean to insult you, what he was trying to say is, “don't say that about yourself”.
Wow. Izuku was so right about that advice. You made a mental note to thank him the next time you saw him. After punching him, of course.
The rest of the car ride was silent. But not uncomfortable. The gentle sound of the heater turned on was relaxing enough to even doze you a bit, warm and content.
Bakugou didn't speak until he parked right in front of your apartment building. You immediately noticed you had probably slept the rest of the way.
“I'm sorry, I think I fell asleep.”
“You think?” He chuckled, face looking your way. You snorted back, finding his teasing funny. His crooked smile made tingles run up your arms. Or was it the heater? Yes, that probably was it, the heater.
You cleared your throat and looked down at your seat belt and untied it –wait. You didn't remember putting it on. Did he… Did he put it on you when you fell asleep? Oh, my. You gulped, feeling the tingles run all over your body again. Fuck. You needed to leave that small space you shared with this man, like… now.
But before you did, you looked back at him one more time.
“Thank you… for driving me home,” you pulled a rebellious strand of hair behind your ear and smiled. You were indeed grateful that you actually didn't have to freeze on your way home, so you bowed slightly too.
You were about to open the door when he spoke.
“Wait,” you turned back at him and watched curiously as he opened the compartment, taking out a small folder.
He pushed it in your direction and looked expectantly at you. You took it, a bit doubtful, not quite understanding what it meant.
“I said I would sign a contract if that's what you wanted. It's just a draft, but I put some items in there that I want you to check. You can add some yourself. And if we both agree, we can sign it.”
Oh. “Oh, okay… I'll check it out and let you know.”
He nodded in response and you finally got out of the car and ran through the shocking cold towards your building. Inside the elevator, you pressed the folder over your chest. This felt way more real than what you felt earlier when you made the final decision and texted him.
But something tasted a bit… bitter. Was this something you had to do on your own? Like, the marriage was between the both of you. And while it wasn’t one out of a loving relationship, it was still something that included both. This contract thing felt like something you needed to sit down and review together.
You decided then.
Your hand searched for your phone in your bag, and ignoring all the notifications, you directly made the call.
Not one ring later, he picked up the call.
“Are you o–...”
“Did you leave?” You interrupted him before he could say anything else.
“No, I'm still down here.”
“Umm, are you tired? Cause if you are we can definitely leave it for tomorrow, or better said later, but I slept through the car ride so I'm not that tired anymore, but if you think–”
“Cut the fuckin’ rambling. Go to the point, short-legs.”
You sighed, fingers sliding through your hair and pulling it back. “If you want, he can revise this now. I think it's better if we do it together.”
You heard the intake of a deep breath, a relieved one, before he said, “Yeah… Okay. I'm on my way up.” The sound of the car's door closing confirmed he was on his way.
“Okay.”
“Okay.” He repeated and then ended the call.
It took you both three hours and just one heated discussion to come to terms with each of the items. Both satisfied with the consensual agreements, you brought out your laptop and rewrote it. You printed two copies, one for each, that you both signed. That's how the contract was ready and done. Now the next and final step would be the marriage in front of a judge. That Friday. In one day.
“We need two witnesses,” you reminded him, to which he grunted.
“Right, I forgot about that.”
“Well, we already know who you are picking…”
He pulled up an eyebrow, looking in your direction, “Huh? And who am I picking, know-it-all?”
You rolled your eyes, but smiled nonetheless, “Izuku.”
He tched, not admitting it out loud, but it was obvious you were right.
You chose to let it be and not cause any banter, mostly because you definitely felt more tired than a few hours back.
“Smart-ass. Then who are you picking, mmh?”
You shrugged, “I don't know. I was thinking Mina,” his groan made you chuckle, “but I think Jirou would keep a low profile better.”
“Yeah, good thinking.” You nodded in agreement. You loved Mina, and you knew he did too, but she couldn't keep things down sometimes. And one of the items was to keep a low profile throughout the whole marriage thing. Bakugou hated the press and paparazzi, and you weren't a fan of them either. Even though you had never been the center of attention of them, you actually preferred to keep it that way. On the low and as invisible as possible.
Thursday went very quiet and chill, which was very surprising considering it was Dynamight's shift. Sometimes, villains made you think they had a particular masochistic side and loved appearing whenever Pro Hero Dynamight was around. Some of them even loved to provoke him on purpose so he would yell all those obscenities towards them. And they enjoyed it. Freaks.
But not that Thursday. It had been a very peaceful one. It even found you chatting with Bakugou through the earbuds.
“So what now, ya’ gonna fuckin’ tell me Endeavor is better than All Might?”
“Oh, shut up, you All Might-obsessed-freak! I will admit All Might was huge, but you can't deny Endeavor stood his ground and made big stuff too.”
“Like fuckin’ what?”
“The fight with the nomu–”
“HA! Please! That was child's play. All Might took down AFO.”
“Yeah. But it was Deku who won against him in the end, not him. And All Might only fought twice against AFO. Endeavor killed a powerful nomu.”
“You are so fuckin’ blind!”
“You are the blind one!”
“How could you say Endeavor is better than All Might?!”
“I did not say that!”
“Wait– then what did y–?”
“I just said, Endeavor was N° 1 too. He was a Hero too. He deserves a bit of recognition.”
You could hear Bakugou’s snort, “So you like them complicated and misunderstood…”
Bakugou’s malice in his teasing was palpable, yet you always had an answer for him.
“Well… What does that say about you?”
“Oh, shut the fuck up!”
If you had been paying attention to your surroundings, you would have noticed all your co-workers smiling at your cute banter with Bakugou. Yet you were so invested in it, you didn't notice.
Conversations that also led to getting to know each other a little bit more also happened.
“I like orange. You?”
The question took you by surprise after almost half an hour of silence from both ends. Yet, it didn't surprise you at all his preference in color. It was kind of obvious.
“Figures. It doesn't surprise me at all–”
“What the fuck does that mean?!”
“Mine is purple.”
“Why?”
“Ummm, I don't know. I always pictured that if I had become a Hero, my costume would be purple. I decided that even before I knew if I had a Quirk or not.”
You had said it in a conversational tone, never intended to make him feel some type of way. Yet, he still asked, “And is still your favorite, even after–”
“–after I found out I am quirkless? Yes. Why wouldn't it be?”
“Mmmh,” was his simple answer.
The shift ended peacefully and on time, which both of you were grateful for, considering what the following day was.
When the shift was over, you waited a considerate couple of minutes. Minutes it would take the heroes to come back from their shift to the company. Then, you got inside the elevator but instead of going down, you went one floor up.
Your phone rang with a notification.
Bakugou K.: You asked her yet?
You rolled your eyes. So impatient.
You: No, I'm about to. I'm on your floor.
Bakugou K.: Slow ass.
You still wanted to punch him, sometimes.
You put your phone back inside your bag as you walked towards the girls’ wing of the floor, completely avoiding even looking at the boys' wing way. You knocked two times before Ochako opened the door slightly to look who it was.
“Oh, hi, Y/N!”
“Y/N!”
“Hi!”
“Hello, Y/N.”
“HI BABY!!” 
All the girls present that shift greeted you cheerfully, especially Mina. You greeted back while entering the room and closing the door behind you.
You chatted with all of them here and there as they got changed, not an ounce of shyness between all of you. You were friends with almost all of them, having already worked with the majority of the girls and hung out with them many times. You knew almost all about them. Their sleep faces, their ugly cries, their drunk personalities. All of it. And they knew you too. That's why you didn't need to be subtle at all when you said, “I actually need to speak with Jirou for a moment”. Everyone understood and took it nicely as they hurried a bit their way into their clothes and grabbed their stuff before leaving you two alone. 
All of them knew you and Jirou had a special friendship, a close one. She was the one you always went to when you really needed to confide in someone with something deep within you. The same thing was for Jirou. You were actually the first one of all to know when Denki confessed his feelings to her, and even talked her through her own ‘secret’ feelings for him.
“What's up, buddy?” She straddled one of the benches and sat, patting the place in front of her for you to follow.
You sat in front of her crossing your legs under you, your bag actually forgotten on the floor down the bench.
“I'm going to tell you something, but I need you to keep an open mind and listen to it all before you say anything.”
She jerked her head back a bit, already feeling confused, “You're scaring me already.”
“You have no idea…” You sighed and began the tell-tale.
Her eyes kept opening wider and wider with each thing you told her about what had been happening with you and Bakugou these last days.
What it felt like probably an hour later, you finished with, “So, that's why… we are going to get married tomorrow.”
Jirou fastly stood up, almost jumping a few steps back, and pointed a finger at you.
“That's it! That's why you have been so civil to each other! I knew something was up with– WAIT,” oh yeah, you thought she hadn't quite listened to what you just said. But then it came, “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?! Y/N!! YOU'RE FUCKING JOKING.”
You shook your head, “No, I'm not.” The calmness and firm tone in which you answered made her sidetrack tons in her own reaction, as she sat back down in front of you and took your hands in hers.
“Honey, it isn't your obligation to do any of this. You know that, right?”
You smiled, the clear worry in Jirou's eyes warming your little heart. You had such a good friend.
“I do. But I want to do this. For him.” You were sincere, and you knew Jirou could see it in your eyes too.
“Even though you don’t like each other??”
“Even though we don’t like each other.”
You repeated, but your tone was decisive. Jirou looked at you silently for a moment, then sighed and nodded.
“Okay… Whatever you choose, I'm here for and with you.” Your arms immediately surrounded her neck in a hug. She returned it gladly, patting your back in reassurance. “And if he hurts you, just tell me. I'll make him pay.”
You laughed amusingly. “I know you will. But this isn't the only thing I'm here for.”
She groaned, “There's more?! I don't know how much my heart can take...”
“Well, will it survive if I ask you to be my witness tomorrow?”
Jirou's eyes filled with tears before it was her turn to surround your neck in a tight hug.
“I'll take that as a yes,” you both giggled, hugging each other tight.
Twenty minutes later you were both leaving the building of the company and you walked her towards the motorcycle parking lot where she had hers.
“I'll text you the location in the morning.”
“Alright, I can't wait for it!” She said excitedly, but then, she looked more intently at you. “I just want to say, this thing you're doing is beyond heroic. You're literally being a Hero right now.”
Her words touched something inside you that made you want to cry like a baby. Something so deep it made you feel like floating away with the harsh galloping your heart made against your chest. It didn't make sense, yet it actually did.
You gulped looking down at your feet, strongly holding back the cry that threatened to be released right in your throat.
“You need a ride back home?” She asked, completely ignoring –for your sake and out of respect– your glassy eyes.
“I'll take her home,” Bakugou's voice in the distance surprised both of you, yet you had been expecting something like this to happen. Something told you he would be waiting you after his shift.
Jirou looked at you waiting for your approval, and when you nodded, she put on her helmet and turned on her bike. You walked towards where Bakugou was standing with Jirou riding next to you, and when she was next to him, she said, “You better take care of my friend, or I'll come for your ass, don't care you're my friend too.”
Bakugou snorted, “I know you will, Ears.” He smiled, pulling down her face shield to annoy her. She punched him friendly on the shoulder before waving and driving away.
“She said yes then.”
You both began walking towards what you thought he had parked his car. “Yep. What did Izuku say?”
He rolled his eyes, “You know he said yes.”
You smiled, “I know, I was just being friendly and asked.”
“Smart-ass.”
“I am really going to punch you again, don't tempt me.”
“Yeah… If that one punch could be considered a punch, it would be ‘again’.”
“Oh, so you do want me to…”
You tried to reach his shoulder, but this time he was fast enough to dodge it expertly. “You really are slow, huh?” He mocked walking backwards and smirking.
“You want slow, asshole…”
He laughed, turning around and running away as you ran towards him trying to catch him.
He was a stupidly fast idiot.
So now, it is Friday, and you sit right next to Bakugou Katsuki. Both of you are in front of a judge who is officially marrying you. Jirou sits on your left, while Izuku sits on Bakugou's right. And you have just finished writing your signature where the bride's one goes. Bakugou has already signed his. It isn't until you put the pen down on the table that Bakugou stops bouncing his leg and breathes in deep.
You want to laugh, finding his nerves quite funny. But you get it. This means more than just marriage to him.
It's freedom.
And you can't even imagine how nerve-racking that must feel for him. After all these years that he had to follow his mother's command and will just so he could follow his own dream, now he would be free.
That in itself brings you such a happy feeling for him.
If anyone would have ever told you that you would be doing this for none other than Bakugou-annoying ass-Katsuki, you would have sent them to a psychiatrist. Immediately.
Fate is a strange thing.
After the turn for the witnesses to sign, the judge says boringly, “By the authority vested in me by the government of Tokyo, I pronounce you husband and wife.”
He doesn't even wait nor expect the newlyweds to kiss or exchange rings as he closes the book and gives Bakugou the previous enrollment you both signed.
And that is it. You are officially married to Bakugou Katsuki.
“Who are you with on today's shift? What time are you out?”
His questions make you come back to reality after a quiet drive toward the company in his car, which you spend looking at the golden ring that now adorns your left hand. When you look up, the shining of the golden ring on his left hand catches your attention as he circles the steering wheel so the car turns on a corner, the company appearing in your view in the distance.
“Umm, I'm with Izuku. If everything goes well, at 3 a.m.”
“Okay. I’ll come pick you up.”
“Bakugou, it’s okay, I can walk home,” you insist for the nth time.
“Bullshit–”
“–Besides, you have morning patrol tomorrow,” you continue, completely ignoring his dirty mouth, “You can’t interrupt your sleep like this every time I have this shift. You need to be awake for your job.”
He grunts, muttering something that you can’t quite decipher what he said. You roll your eyes, thinking he acts like a petulant child sometimes.
A moment later, Bakugou enters the parking lot with his car, to which you look confused at him. Why is he entering the company on his day off?
He answers even before you can articulate your words, “I need to pick up some unfinished reports I have to turn in tomorrow.”
You pull up an eyebrow, untying the seatbelt and getting out of his car once he finally parks, “Wow. Dynamight is lacking on his paperwork?”
“Shut up, short-legs.”
You snort at his lighthearted insult as you walk together inside the company. But right when you both cross the big doors, Bakugou stops and looks at you. You frown confused, he then motions down with his head and you see his hand open, waiting. Oh, right.
Item n°2: Act like we are in a real relationship. The lawyers for the companies always investigate deeper into each hero, so that their status and validation of mental sanity are correlated.
You put your hand over his, both closing on each other, its warmth making those damn tingles run up your arm. But neither of you says anything as you walk through the lobby of the company holding hands.
Everyone who looks opens their eyes wide, one of the receptionists even spills her coffee drink out of shock. You hold yourself from laughing. Another of the receptionists looks you up and down, a clear disgusted expression on her face. Ops. Well, it’s not like you liked her either.
However, both you and Bakugou walk with your heads held high. You know how shocking and out of character the image of you both holding hands like a couple looks. And fast, everything happened so fast. You can already hear the gossip about whatever this is that you might have with Bakugou is way too fast. But you haven’t done everything you did for them. It is for him. As surprising as that sounds, even for you.
He walks with you towards the clock where you have to mark your entrance, never dropping your hand as you do. Then, you walk together to the elevator waiting for it to arrive. As you wait and look down at your shoes, you feel before you actually see his other hand moving, fingers brushing against your ear when he tugs a strand of your hair that had been over your face. Surprised, you look up at him but still smile in thanks.
Bakugou retracts his hand quickly and puts it inside the pocket of his jacket, looking back at the elevator. You would tease him for the little blush his cheeks are showing, but you decide it’s not the moment, considering how all eyes are on you two.
When it arrives and you get in, standing very close to each other while watching how everyone tries to peep inside to see if you’re still holding hands or if anything else happens between you two, you both jolt a bit when a wild and hurried Izuku suddenly enters the elevator, jacket half off and hair disheveled. He also looks in surprise at you two, eyes traveling down at your connected hands. A shit-eating grin appears on his face as the doors of the elevator close.
“Shut up.”
Bakugou and you speak at the same time.
Izuku snorts, hands in the air in a sign of surrender. “Wasn’t going to say anything…”
“I sense a ‘but’...” You roll your eyes, and Bakugou hums in agreement.
The greenette smiles wider, “But I understand now why everyone was looking like they saw All Might in person.”
Bakugou insults him, just because he always wants to have the final say, making Izuku laugh out loud amused. You decide to ignore both of them until the elevator arrives at your floor.
“Don’t blow up the elevator,” you warn them both after Izuku answers back at Bakugou, just to spite him. Your hand gives Bakugou one last squeeze in goodbye before walking out, “I’m with you today, Izuku.”
“Oh, cool! I’ll get connected in a bit.” You nod in his direction and look at Bakugou one last time, smiling and waving.
The doors close and you don’t get to see him smile back at you.
The shift, as always with Pro Hero Deku, is not calm or chill. It’s hectic and dangerous, and it keeps demanding all your focus and senses on alert.
“You know, sometimes I believe you have a magnet for trouble stuck up in your ass…” you hear Izuku spill the drink he must have been probably about to swallow. You chuckle devilishly. Wow, two times in a day you make someone spill their drink, that must be a record.
“Damn. Not twenty-four hours of being married to him, and you are already influenced.”
“Oh, shut it,” you both laugh amicably.
Again, the pip-ing of alert sounds in your computer. You sigh, “Deku, another threat five streets down where you’re at now.”
“On my way!”
“See? A magnet in your ass…” Izuku laughs.
You both don’t get to chat about another thing that is not your job again for the rest of the shift.
At exactly 3:10 a.m. you let out a tired sigh, stretching your arms above you and moving your body from side to side as gentle cracks sound from your backbone. After Deku pushes a villain inside a police car and looks at it drive away for a moment, his yawn that you hear through the earbuds passed on to you as you involuntarily copy the action.
“That was the last one. I’m going back,” you agree with him as you press the option on the system that notifies everyone on the shift that your hero is coming back to headquarters.
“Done.”
“Thanks, Y/N, great work today!”
“You did it all, buddy.”
“Oh, no! None of us heroes could do it without you. All of you, really.”
You frown, a bit surprised. I mean, Izuku is always polite and thanks you after every shift, but today feels different. Like he is purposely saying that, as if he knew someone important was listening to their connection.
“You are… welcome?” You actually don’t know what to say. He simply chuckles.
By orders from your area, you can't leave until Deku’s entered the company back again, so you use that time to finish gathering your things and closing the system.
“I'm back. Wait for me, Y/N. I'll take you home,” not longer than five minutes later Izuku says through the earbuds.
“Oh. You don't have–”
“Kacchan asked me to.”
His words shut you up. But he doesn't wait for your answer as he finally disconnects the communication. 
And you're left there, frozen for a moment, assimilating his words. Bakugou asked Izuku to take you home. He asked his best friend to take care of you, even when he knew Izuku would do it or offer on his own. Izuku always rode you home when you had night shifts together. Bakugou surely knows that. Then, why even mention it to his friend? Why personally ask Izuku to help you? Because… Bakugou didn't enter the company only for his unfinished paperwork. He did it to talk to Izuku. Was this… Bakugou taking care of you because you were married? Or because he wanted to?
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girllblogging777 · 2 days ago
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hi congrats on 1k!! can i please request a cinnamon tinged tale with mattheo riddle with a scenario where they have a fight and go to bed seperate but they both can’t sleep without each other!!
𝑈����𝑆𝑃𝑂𝐾𝐸𝑁 𝑃𝑅𝑂𝑀𝐼𝑆𝐸𝑆 ˚ ༘✶
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↳ bf!mattheo riddle x reader (angst, fluff)
↳ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 : 1.5k
𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 :you and your boyfriend can’t sleep without eachother, but you had an argument
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
mattheo’s dorm was unnaturally quiet tonight. no whispers, no soft rustling of sheets, no stolen glances or quiet giggles. just silence, cold and deafening. he laid flat on his back, arms crossed behind his head, his jaw tense as he stared up at the dark ceiling of his room. the argument replaying in his mind on an endless, bitter loop.
he exhaled sharply through his nose. maybe he was an idiot like you had told him. scratch that. he definitely was. your words, heated and full of hurt, had ricocheted off the walls like a spell gone wrong. and instead of deflecting, instead of softening, he’d snapped back with the kind of sharpness he reserved for enemies. not for you. never for you.
but now you were gone. well, not gone-gone, but you weren’t here. you had stormed out of his dorm, muttering something about needing “space.” space. mattheo didn’t even know what to do with space.
his mind wandered to you. where were you now ? back in your own bed, curled up with that damn blanket you refused to replace no matter how many times he teased you about it? where you crying? did you hate him?
the ache in his chest tightened, like a hand gripping his heart. he turned to his side, punching the pillow beneath him in frustration. he needed you, your scent of cinnamon, your quiet murmurs before sleep, the way your hand would instinctively find his beneath the covers. without you, the room felt emptier than it had any right to.
across the castle, you sat cross-legged on your bed, staring out the window. the moon hung low, bathing the grounds in silver light, but your thoughts were anything but serene.
why had you said those things? you hadn’t meant to snap at him. it wasn’t his fault he was reckless, it was just who he was. you knew that, knew it better than anyone. but still, watching him flirt with danger, walking that fine line between thrill and disaster, it drove you insane. you cared too much to stay silent.
you sighed, hugging your knees to your chest. the bed felt too big, too cold without him. even on nights you two argued, you would always ended up tangled together, legs overlapping, breaths mingling. it was impossible to stay away from him and not to break the castle’s rules by sneaking into each other’s rooms past curfew. but tonight, you were alone.
minutes stretched into hours and you kept tossing and turning, thinking about him. at the same moment, mattheo swung his legs out of bed, running a hand through his messy curls. he didn’t care if he’d get caught. he didn’t care if you were still angry. he needed to see you.
suddenly, your bedroom door swung open and you turned around, eyes widening. “mattheo ?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. he stood there, unsure of what to say “i uh… i can’t sleep…”
“neither can i,” you admitted softly, watching him intently.
he stepped closer, his hand twitching at his sides. “i’m sorry, baby. i was a dick. you were just trying to look out for me and i lashed out, it wasn’t fair.”
your heart clenched at his honest words and you looked up at him, “i shouldn’t have pushed you, matt, i just worry about you too much. and sometimes, i feel like i care more about you than you do”
his brows furrowed and he finally reached out, his hand softly brushing against your cheek. “i do care. about me. about us. but i’m just… stupid sometimes.”
you couldn’t help but huff out a small laugh, leaning into his touch. “yup, you are.”
a ghost of a smile tugged at his lips. “does that mean i’m forgiven ?” you pretended to think a moment before answering, sighing. “only if you stay.”
and he didn’t need to be told twice.
moments later, you two were tangled together in your bed, your head resting on his chest as his fingered traced lazy, absentminded patterns on your back. neither of you spoke at first. the quiet felt sacred, too delicate to shatter. but mattheo couldn’t let it end there, not when he had so much to say.
“i don’t ever wanna go to bed mad at you again.” he murmured, his voice soft but heavy with meaning. his fingers stilled against your back, waiting for your response.
you tilted your head up, your chin resting on his chest as your eyes met his. “me neither,” you whispered back, “i hate how it feels, matt.”
he nodded, his hand moving to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your soft skin in the dark. “i know, love,” he admitted, “it feels wrong. everything feels wrong without you. i’m sorry i made you feel like i don’t care.” he paused for a second and you waited, silent.
“i care, baby. i care so much if scares the hell out of me sometimes.”
you could see it in his eyes, the way his walls had crumbled entirely for you and how painful that felt for him. mattheo riddle, who always unshakeably confident, was laying himself bare for you.
“i know,” you said in a steady voice. you reached up, your hand curling around his wrist. “but i’ll keep worrying about you, you know ? that’s not gonna change..”
he chuckled, the sound now and warm in the quiet room. “i figured, love. i don’t deserve you.”
“damn right you don’t,” you teased, your lips twitching into a genuine smile. then your voice softened “ but that doesn’t mean i’m going anywhere.”
the tension in mattheo’s body eased at your words, and he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping tightly around you as to shield you from the world. you felt the way his lips brushed against the top of your head, a soft gesture that made your heart flutter.
“i love you,” he said quietly, the words slipping out as naturally as breathing.
“i love you too,” you whispered back, your fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt as your heart pounded against your chest.
for the first time that night, the heavy weight between you lifted and the two of you stayed like that, your breaths syncing and limbs tangled in complete and utter peace. because no matter how messy you were, how much you clashed or stumbled, you always found your way back to eachother.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
a/n : tysm for this amazing idea ! tell me if you wanna be tagged and check out my 1k celebration for more !
@redeemingvillains @leona-hawthorne @shiftingwithmars @tateshifts @rose-of-the-grave @clar2aa @iris-qt @sp7-mr @deadghosy @deadsnakey @helendeath @jolly4holly @larmesdevanille @dexoq @shiftingwithleah @sunkissedscribbles @chelawrites @myunperfektstorys @yikesitslush @slut-for-fictional-men @romantasyreader28 @witchsrecs @mattiesgf @reidol0gy @kenjikishimotoswifey @2dloveshp @hisparentsgallerryy @riddlesgrl
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murdrdocs · 2 days ago
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a slow life with lucius; fluffy smut; mating press; lowk breeding kink MDNI 18+
thinking about living a life with lucius, or hanno as you know him.
spending your days living a mundane life. tending to the farm, living amongst chickens and goats, making a simple living for yourselves while keeping food on the table. there's not much excitement here, but this beats what else the two of you could be doing. when you see the marred skin of his and remember the feeling of aches that will likely never truly subside, you know what else you could be doing.
you pray to your god that when that day comes—because you both know the day will come, rome is ambitious and she will not be stopped before reaching your home—may the victory be swift or may the death be merciful.
but you don't have to think of these things when you're scolding hanno for being too rough with the crops. he'll tell you it is impossible to be too rough with crops, their deaths rarely come at the hand of the farmer and are usually caused by neglect. and while he is right in his own regard, you'll still send him a pointed look that makes him smile.
there is much time in your day for basking in the glory of the other. under the roof of your home, behind closed doors to keep your neighbors away, you stand in the center of the room, his arms over your shoulders and your arms around his waist. you've been together for some time now, you've done this with each other often, but it truly never gets old. you never get tired of hanno taking his time with you, cherishing every single patch of your skin as they all come together to make the person he loves most.
he doesn't tell you much about his past, but he tells you that you're all he has. it's the two of you, and hopefully eventually a few little others who can live in a humane world, god willing. but for now, it's just the two of you.
yet, the things hanno does to you makes it seem like he wants to increase the population of your home sooner rather than later. the way he bends you body with the weight of his own, pushing your thighs to your chest and hooking your calves over the corded muscle of his shoulders. the way he stares deep into your eyes as he gives you even deeper strokes, pushing his cock further into you time and time again until you're so sure you're going to have to start breathing for him, even when he's taking your breath away from you with each draw back.
"you're okay, yeah?" he always asks you, although in different variations. your favorite will always be the confident way he asks you, when the corner of his lip pulls up and he says, "you like this? do you enjoy what i do to you?". it's simply the way he says it, deep timber of his voice twisting the tone of the syllables until it sounds like he already knows the answer.
you cannot see how he wouldn't—with your cunt leaking around him and your moans filling up the room.
still, you always make an effort to answer him, no matter the strength of the spell he has put you under that time.
he's always so pretty above you, whether it be when the sun slips through the window and illuminates a blue iris, painting the replica color of a sea you know so well, or when the white light of the moon slips through and highlights the evidence that the sun has made on his skin.
big hands touching you everywhere, lips doing the same, but sometimes, you'll only let him get so far. at times when his hands slip down your body, heading towards a spot he has not left alone after the initial discovery, you'll have to swat them away. he's grown to expect it now, rolling his eyes half heartedly and fighting off a grin as he raises his eyebrows in an expression of insincere frustration.
"covered in dirt," you'll explain, knowing what will come next.
the way he bends down, tip of his nose brushing against yours as he tells you, "as is the rest of me ... and yet."
and he's always right. there seems to be a certain amount of the earth that both you and hanno will forever carry with you. a mark of the life you're so privileged to currently live, therefore more of a beautiful reminder than a nuisance.
so, as you let his fingers slip down to the most delicate parts of you, happily settling into the feeling of multiplied pleasure, you grin at him and echo his words.
"and yet."
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