#But its hard to build a following from scratch

[mosaixe]

Hi everyone!! Im happy to announce that ive slowly started filling out my instagram. Head on over there and say hi if you use insta! Thank you <33

Link: https://www.instagram.com/mosaixe

[buckyalpine]

Winter soldier x reader ft sex pollen

Unhinged winter soldier with sex pollen. This is wildly inappropriate (with some fluff?...) but I thought of it so you must all suffer with me. Imagine Hydra filling the room with sex pollen immediately after Buck is wiped, sending him out at in his most feral state in hopes that the winter soldier will lose control and give into the urges they've forced into him. They need him to breed another super soldier since they were unable to replicate the serum in his veins.

As soon as the dust fills the room, his pupils dilate, his tac suit far too hot, his veins pumping so hard they feel like they're going to burst. The straps holding him down release and his chest is heaving, trying to calm down the primal needs hes feeling, pain prickling his skin the longer he stays in the room. He grunts, striding out of the room and into the night, chasing a craving he has to get out.

He moves without a soul detecting him, until a sweet scent catches his attention. Floral, natural, innocent. Fertile. He's suddenly hyper focused on the thing his body is screaming for, following the unsuspecting woman, his teeth grinding through the pain. She enters a building and he observes each window before seeing a lights turn on, her nude silhouette appearing through the curtains.

It takes no effort for him to climb up the fire escape, easily prying the locked window open only to be met with the sound of the shower running. Her scent permeates all his senses and he nearly strips off all his clothes then and there, the pollen causing lust that makes his bones ache. The water shuts off and hes waiting like a predator waiting for its prey, sitting perfectly still while the door clicks open. She gasps and freezes in place and he sight alone makes him growl.

Pathetic little bunny.

"Who-who are you" she whispers, clutching her towel tightly together though it's not like she didn't know. Tears fill her eyes seeing the deadly soldier people spoke about, unsure if he even existed, the very rumor now sitting on her bed. He doesn't anything, groaning at the feeling of his arousal steadily dripping from his cock, palming his erection.

"Please-don't" She shakes her head, seeing his hardness pressing against his pants, his large presence suffocating because she knows there's no where to run. He slips his mask off, revealing his dangerously handsome face, his eyes wild with lust and need.

"But I have to" He grits out, stalking over to her and grabbing her by the waist, burying his nose in her freshly washed hair, deeply groaning at the scent of her bodywash, "mne eto nuzhno, zayka" [I need this, bunny]

"No-I-I'll do anything-" She trembles, squeezing her eyes shut feeling his warm wet tongue lick up her neck as his mismatched hands rip her towel away, pulling her hips flush against his cock. The rough material of his tactical hear scratches her soft skin, making her whimper when when he bites her shoulder.

"takoy myagkiy krolik" [such a soft bunny] He throws her like a doll, her ass bouncing off the mattress, flat on her back back while he undoes his pants, pulling his cock out. She squeezes her legs shut, shaking her head, his fat bobbing length taunting her as he pumps himself while crawling onto the bed.

"It hurts bunny" He groans, forcing her legs apart, her natural scent nearly causing pain as he stares at her pussy. Her button between her legs involuntarily twitches and he pinches it hard making her squeal, the sound causing a drop of precum to spill out.

His head is so focused on getting his release, he doesn't bother prepping her, shoving his cock into her tight cunt, grunting and forcing his length in when he feels resistance. He stars to fuck her hard, holding both wrists in his metal hand, keeping her pinned under him while he splits her open.

"Hurts-too much-to big-stop-" She gasps out her pained cries melting into muddled moans of pleasure, her own body betraying her, feeling her own warmth wetting his cock making it easier for him to slip in and out. "Oh god-soldat-stop-don't-

"You're wet" He hisses, almost accusatorily, pounding her harder, faster until the bed shakes and scratches the floor, the serum pumping in his veins making his cock sensitive.

"I need this-I need it" Sweat beads at his forehead, his balls feeling heavier than usual, the pollen causing his body to produce more semen than he naturally would.

"YA chuvstvuyu zapakh, kakoy ty mokryy, zayka" [I can smell how wet you are bunny] His balls throb painfully, his cock ready to burst as his thrusts become more erratic. He snarled against her neck as pleasure starts to lick up his spine, the bruising grip on her wrists tightening as he starts to pump her full of his load without warning.

She whimpers feeling shame for the delicious stretch of his cock, her cunt fluttering, swollen from his abusive pace. She finds herself flipped over with her ass in the air, her face pressed against the sheets, his cock rock hard again, prodding at her puffy folds.

"Not done-need more" he growls lowly, stripping his clothes off, his body heat dialed to 100. His crotch is covered in cum, a mix of his and hers, the smell of her driving him insane as he grabs her hips and slams her to meet his thrusts again. He has more power at this angle, fucking her like a mad man, groaning with his head thrown back, eyes rolled to the back of his head, only focused on pleasuring his cock.

"Ty shlyukha Zimnego soldata, ty voz'mesh' to, chto ya tebe dayu" [You're the winter soldier's whore, you'll take what I give you] He's at his most unhinged, grunting and groaning, fucking her like an animal, her muffled screams only causing his cock to swell more. "Make me feel good, make it go away bunny"

"Soldat please stop-too big" she begs and he fucks her harder, making her moan, pulling another orgasm out of her body even if she fought against it. His thighs meet the back of hers, rolling and rocking his hips, hitting her cervix until her sweet juices squirt out of her, obscene sounds of skin on skin filling he room. "SOLDAT"

"I have to breed you bunny" He shakes his head, unwilling to leave until he's sure she's pregnant with his child, forcing every bit of his cum into her. "My fertile little bunny" He nips your skin, running his hands over her tummy, imaging it firm and round with his baby growing inside. He loved the thought of such an unsuspecting, sweet angel carrying the child of he soldier, all of his cum making a mess in her pussy.

By the last round, the pollen has started to dissipate and the cloud is lifting. He pants, still rutting into her pussy, something tugging at his conscious, shaking his head when the lusty animalistic haze weavers.

"T-tell me your name" He rasps, his heart beating wildly, loosening his grip on her. She whimpers from pain and to her surprise, he slowly down, still grinding himself in, burying her face into her neck. "zayka, pozhaluysta" [bunny, please]

"Y/n" she whispers, unsure of why she told him, her voice catching in her throat when his lips press against her skin. She's limp in his hold, the smell of sex permeating the room, the sheets soaked with his cum, but nothing more full than her cunt.

"Y/n" He moans, his body trembling as he nears the end of his final release, stilling till he's milked himself dry, her soft body worn under him. Something is wrong, he can feel it, the emotionless control he had before, slipping from his grasp. He yearns to hold the woman in his arms but he can't .Something stops him.

His movements are robotic as he pulls away and slips his clothes back on, memories unfamiliar to him flashing through his mind.

He wasn't the soldier.

He was-

Her soft snores pull her from his spiral, looking up to seeing her sleeping form, fucked out from the way he'd ruined her. He frowns at the unfamiliar feeling of concern he's experiencing, pulling the covers over her body.

"Thank you bunny" He whispers, making her whine in her sleep, calling for the soldier.

"I'm-

He shakes his head, his previously wild replaced with those of a young man from Brooklyn.

"B-Bucky"

-

[miguelhugger2099]

Him and I (1/2)

Summary: You get thrown into another, another dimension while on a mission with Miguel. You end up meeting Miguel's variant where lingering feelings lie. Next Comic!Miguel x Reader x ATSV!Miguel, SMUT, PWP, Word Count: 6,808 CW: just a smidge of voyeurism

It was rough how you ended up here in another dimension and it wasn’t ideal either. Earlier, you were on a mission with Miguel and doing the usual of tracking and containing anomalies. However, this one was a little rough, giving both you and Miguel a hard time with how slippery it had been.  Arriving at the scene, Miguel quickly barked orders at you to scan the place to track and trace any possible disrupted canon events. While he went one way, you went the other and for a while, neither of you had been able to grab it. Until your watch pinged with a hologram of Miguel’s face calling to tell you he found the anomaly and was leading it towards you for some backup. Putting on your mask, you swung away on your webs to meet him halfway.

One thing led to another and both of you were hollering at each other different plans and strategies since this anomaly was somehow escaping every chance it got. Miguel grabbed on its neck and yanked it back which made it screech and slam him against a brick wall. He grunted and let go from the sheer force of it. The anomaly went head first for you to which you jumped on its back. Eventually, you held onto it and tried to use your watch to open a portal. The anomaly tried ripping you off it, scratching your watch and damaging the touch pad. Whatever number you tried putting in, was jumbled up and yet a portal opened up anyway. Time and space warped around you two, the wormhole trying to suck up anything. The anomaly then grabbed you and ripped you off its back, throwing you into the portal which shut right after you went through. So here you are, in a dimension that isn’t your New York, but it did look like a certain someone’s Nueva York. Tall buildings, hovercrafts and holographic billboards were plastered everywhere. You looked down at your watch and saw claw marks on the touchpad, small sparks of electricity fizzed out but it wasn’t too damaged, you decided. You weren’t glitching so you counted that as a win. You heard a familiar zip of web shooters being used from above. Tilting your head up, you saw the familiar red and mostly blue suit swinging by and ignoring you. You squinted at the figure leaving.

“Miguel…?” You whispered to yourself. Pushing the watch problem aside, you began following him, trying to catch up to him. “Miguel!” You called out through the whipping winds as you gained speed.

His figure thwipped around, seemingly trying to get you off his tail. You grew frustrated. Why was he just avoiding you? If he was here, that means the anomaly had gotten away and it’d be more work for both of you.

He then made a sharp turn around a tall building. You nearly passed it but you stopped yourself just in time to swivel your head around to see where he had gone. Your eyes honed in on his figure crawling up the side of the building and into an open window. With determination, you shot your web to the building and began crawling up. Once you made it to the damn near very top, you opened the window and crawled in. With your feet now planted on the floor, you took off your mask and looked around. It was a bedroom and a large one at that with a giant king sized bed and a giant set up where you assumed would display a holographic screen. You noted it was dark too with all the lights switched off and Miguel was nowhere to be seen. You were sure you saw him crawl in this room. You began walking around the room just to make sure, trying to find anything. When you didn’t–the lack of pictures was appalling– you made your way over to the bedroom door and took a peek outside of it. The hallways were just as dark, if not darker. You took a step out and squinted your eyes, hoping your vision would adjust to the lighting.

You heard a shift far in front of you and paused in your steps. You tried focusing on whatever was in front of you and that’s when you saw red eyes. You froze and held your breath while the eyes simply watched you, slightly moving as it seemingly saw you through the dark.

These eyes were familiar to you and so you dropped your guard. “Miguel…?” You called out again. “What the hell? I was right behind you! Did the anomaly throw you in here too?”

You tried approaching him but then backed up when he came closer as well, at a faster rate than you thought. Your gasped and your spider senses went haywire. With a bit of difficulty on your end, you looked up to see someone who wasn’t Miguel. Or you thought.

The man had Miguel’s scarlet orbs, but instead of brown hair he had dark red hair to match his eyes. Instead of brown skin, he had white skin. He had a similar face shape with the same sharp cheekbones and strong jawline but his face was a bit longer than that. You noticed a five o’clock shadow he might’ve been planning to shave off soon. His height was shorter than your Miguel but it was still tall enough to tower over you. His face was in a scowl, teeth bared and claws unsheathed, on guard for the danger that he decided you were. You took a glance down his chest, the spider emblem different than you remember–much sharper than your Miguel’s geometric shapes.

“Who…who are you?” You asked, taking a few steps back and this man following, his eyes never leaving yours. If you searched for a while longer, you would’ve seen a hint of disbelief and hidden fondness.

“Miguel O’Hara. Who are you?” He growled. You gulped flinching when your back hit the wall and his clawed hand struck the space by your head to cage you against him.

You stated your name with a shake of your voice. It seemed to anger him further.

“Don’t lie to me.” He grit his teeth, his lips curled to show his fangs.

“It–It’s not! I swear!” You insisted. “Listen, I can explain. I’m from another dimension. I–I’m part of this society full of other people like us—with spider powers. I got…blasted here by some villain when I was with you—or the variant you–but I’m not here to fight some more.” You sighed, hoping he could have some sense and maybe believe you.

Miguel’s eyes narrowed down at you to search and scan for just an ounce of lying in your tone but he found none. His facade cracked for a moment, almost melancholy and sad before hardening again. He separated from you, standing taller and retracting his talons back to his fingertips. You saw him hesitate to lift his hand up but he decided against it. “How did you get here?” He asked lowly.

You lifted your wrist to show your damaged watch. “It’s more or less a dimension hopping device,” You elaborated. Miguel attempted to slip it off your wrist but you stopped him. “I have to keep it on or else I’ll start glitching and–it hurts.” You laughed nervously a bit at the end. Miguel’s facial expression didn’t waver. He only held your wrist–gently at that– and turned it around to examine it.

“I can fix it.” He murmured nonchalantly with a raise of his reddish eyebrow. You sighed. Even in another dimension, Miguel is just as sure of himself. He looked up to meet your eyes, softer but still guarded. “If you’ll let me.”

You nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! Yes, please, of course. That’d be great. Thank you.” He let go of your hand and turned around to a space in his home where various inventions laid around and you followed suit with big eyes. “Woah… This is..cool.” You mumbled. Miguel looked over his shoulder as he walked, a ghost of a fond smile on his lips when you weren’t looking. Then suddenly, a bright yellow figure popped up. She was life sized with long white blonde hair in a side part with a white long dress.

“Welcome home, Miguel,” She placed her hands behind her back and gave him a dimpled smile. Her smile faltered when she saw you. “Is that–”

Miguel cut her off by introducing your name to her. “She’s from another dimension. That’s all, Lyla.” You couldn’t see Miguels face but you did see Lyla’s–which you were surprised at the stark difference. You saw her eyes glance at Miguel and then stand up a bit taller, her smile coming back. It was as if they had a mutual understanding.

“Of course, Miguel.” She closed her eyes and phased out again, leaving the two of you alone again. Miguel turned around to face you and gestured to a stool by a nearby table. You walked over and sat on it, Miguel grabbing another chair–and a toolbox it seemed–and placing himself beside you. He offered his hand and you gave it to him, your size difference being much clearer. Miguel took off his suit gloves which surprised you once more since your Miguel’s suit wasn’t necessarily standard fabric like this one. But since this one had claws too, the suit must also be made of some technology you’re not aware of.

Miguel took a look inside the damage the claws had done to the watch and began working on it silently. You took the time to notice his features and began comparing it to the other Miguel subconsciously.

The five o’clock shadow you had noticed before was also coming in red. It seemed like this version of Miguel leaned more into his Irish side. His hair was in a short side part, with his fringe falling on his forehead but he didn’t seem to pay any mind to it. The small glances he took at you made you see his eyes more clearly. They were the same red as your Miguel and equally as beautiful.

You pushed that thought away. It was strange to think that way about your boss’ variant, much less your boss himself. You admit he’s handsome–the two of them– and you could also tell that they knew that.

“Had enough staring?” He asked when you turn away to shake off your thoughts. If you didn’t know any better, it’d sound like he was teasing you.

“Have you?” You shot back. “I saw you staring too.”

“I was.” Miguel answered simply. He placed a screwdriver down, popping open the screen and examining it further. “Sorry about that. You…remind me of someone.”

The air had felt heavier. You had a gut feeling and you decided to see if you were right. “Did you know another me?”

Miguel nods, not looking up. “My own you, she passed,” He picks apart the device carefully, making sure to not damage it further. “Seeing you and sensing you…I was convinced you were some villain trying to haunt me. But I know now that it’s not true.” He says with little to no emotion. Maybe he was just hiding it under a facade. It wouldn’t be the first time you were on that end.

“I’m sorry,” You tried to apologize but he stood up, taking a piece of your watch with him.

“Nothing’s really damaged other than the screen. It shouldn’t be a problem to fix.” He says softly, and turns away to another side of the room. You purse your lips, deciding whether or not to play into his bad habits of closing off when he just opened up. You decided the former and asked another question.

“How long will it take?”

He pauses. “Do you hate it here already?”

“What?! No. No, of course not! I mean, I can't hate what I don’t know. Not to say I don’t know you. I know a Miguel just maybe you’re different. Which isn’t a bad thing but it’s just I can’t overstay–I need to go home because that would be invading your space.”

Miguel looks over at you and the corners of his lips are turned up. “I was joking.”

You stop your rambling and frown at him. “Your humor is bland.” Miguel laughs through his nose and shakes his head.

“You’re still the same…” He murmurs to himself. He shrugs off that thought, thinking it was disrespectful to the you that he once knew.

“It won’t take long,” He speaks to you. “I don’t have the exact materials as this but it’s still possible to make them. It should take a couple days. Maybe a little more or less a week.” He pulls up a holographic monitor and touches across the screen.

A week, you thought to yourself, at best. Miguel took another look around the damaged screen he’d plucked off your watch.

“Did I make this?” He looked over at you and you instinctively sat up straighter. “The other me.” He clarified.

“Well, yeah,” You shrugged on one side. “Made the blueprint and had Lyla help make it.”

“Lyla?” He hummed with a raise of his eyebrows. “Hm.” His jaw clenched, feeling a tinge of envy for his counterpart. He did dimensional travel and he had you around? It wasn’t fair. With a click of his tongue, he placed the screen back down and moved away from the table, opting out to type things you couldn’t see on another monitor.

You felt awkward sitting there with nothing to do so you stood up and looked around, keeping a respectful distance from Miguel and his things. You didn’t notice the way he stopped typing and admired you through the reflection of his monitor.

Same curve of your nose, shape of your jaw, same way your eyelashes fluttered. Miguel wished you were a ghost in that moment, maybe then he wouldn’t feel that agonizing itch to hold you again. “Do you…want a change of clothes?” He asked you, pulling you out of your bubble. “I have some of her things still here, lying around.” He offered, trying to appear nonchalant. You looked down at your spider suit. It was a bit dirtied from being thrown around so you could use a pair of comfortable clothes.

“Yeah. I mean, I don’t want to ruin her things or anything.”

Miguel shook his head and made his way out, ushering you to follow him. “I insist. I’d rather her things be used than lying around anyway.” You two had walked into his bedroom again. He opened his bottom drawer and pulled out some shirt and sweatpants. He held onto them a little longer before inhaling and passing them to you.

You looked at the clothes, noting how he looked at them “I really don’t have to wear them–”

“Please.” Miguel insisted. You blinked once and licked your lips, giving him time to make sure before you took it in your hands. You held it close to your chest.

“Bathroom?” You asked. He pointed down the hall and you followed, closing the door behind you and leaving Miguel alone with his thoughts. He rummaged through his drawer to find his own set of comfortable clothes outside his suit. He thought to himself, thinking about you and trying to find any differences. Your nose bridge was different but the tip of it was the same. Your hair texture was the same but you had a slightly different hue.

He didn’t know whether or not he wanted to help you. On one hand, you were the ghost of his past–the figure that taunted him of his failures as Miguel and as Spider-Man. But on the other hand, he missed you. All he ever wanted was to see you again and he wanted to selfishly keep seeing you. He sat at the edge of his bed, battling with his inner thoughts until he heard you come back.

Miguel looked up and got the wind knocked out of his chest. They fit you perfectly like you bought these yourself. You smiled awkwardly at him, thinking it was weird for him to see you in his dead girlfriend's clothes but he just nodded.

“Looks like it fits.” He choked out.

“They do. Thanks, again.” You smiled wearily. One week. He’d enjoy you for one week and maybe–just maybe– ask if you can come back.

Miguel didn't like the fact you offered to stay in his penthouse while he did his Spider-Man duties. Even more so when he knew you didn’t like sitting still either and only offered out of politeness. He guessed that if you were anything like him now, a being with super powers, it meant you also felt a responsibility to do something and help people. So, he invited you to join his patrols.

You declined at first. “I’ve already crashed your universe–”

“Would it kill you to just join me without being so high and mighty?” He asked with a pointed look knowing you were too nice for your own good even in his universe. You sighed through your nose and reluctantly agreed, still feeling awkward around him despite his not so stubble attempts to make you comfortable. Which was strange considering your initial hostile encounter.

For the next few days, it seemed patrolling was a nice bonding time for you two. Surprisingly, you worked well together like he knew just how you worked and acted accordingly. He knew once you spotted a small crime going on, he’d let you get the first punch in since you were a bit competitive. While swinging, he figured out you liked to hang in the air for a moment longer before using your webs again ao he swung at a distance while you could do your flips and jumps. For the entire week, you had forgotten you were technically stranded here but that fact didn’t seem to bother you.

Along with that, Miguel worked on fixing your watch, creating a small wristband that would delay your glitching while he took the device. Eventually, he did fix it and turned it brand new again. You were incredibly grateful and he just smiled softly at you through his shaded glasses. You slipped it on and was prepared to head home when he stopped you and asked if you’d like to go on a final patrol with him. You fiddled with your watch, debating but you did feel a small part of you not wanting to leave him, strangely enough. So, you went.

It had been late by the time you came back to his penthouse, opting to crawl through the window of his bedroom. The night was hotter than expected, both of you leaning on the wall to catch your breaths after ripping off your masks.

“Made sure no one followed?” You asked with a heavy sigh. Miguel propped himself off the wall and leaned over to glance outside the window beside you, his hand placed next to your head and his hand subconsciously held your hip, making you freeze. He didn’t seem to notice even as you stared shamelessly up at him. Miguel’s eyes were focused and sharp, a stark contrast to the way he squinted under his sunglasses during the daytime. His arm by your head flexed as he moved to keep himself steady but the hand on your hip was warm and comforting that left your heart fluttering. Sure, he was handsome–but you couldn’t, right? Right?

Miguel’s eyes found yours again and for a moment was confused why you seemed so stiff. You looked up at him with beady and bashful eyes that made his heart skip a beat. He instinctively looked down at your lips and back to your eyes, his hand moving up to your waist. He hunched over you, caging you to the wall and making you feel the heat radiating off his body. You stared straight even as he closed in on you by your ear, your heart pounding in your chest and down to your abdomen.

“If you want me to stop, I’ll stop.” He whispered by your ear, his thumbs by your waist caressed your hip bone, a subtle reminder of his sweetness underneath his rough exterior. Despite the short time spent together, he was sure you felt something for him after basically living with him. He was still at a distance but with your lack of reply, he took that as an answer and took a step back away from you.

Before he could, you grabbed onto his arms, keeping him in place and close to you. “No,” You said quickly. “No, don’t stop. Please.” You whispered, your heart hammering inside your chest.

Miguel came back to you, his arms securing himself around you, his own heartbeat increasing in speed. “Are you sure?” He asked softly.

You nodded. “Please.” You whispered again. Miguel took one arm off your waist to cup your cheek and tilt it up to face him. You felt heat crawl up to your cheeks meanwhile Miguel looked like he was about to take a bite of the forbidden fruit that was you. He was entranced and a little needy and eager to feel your lips on his again. Despite you being a different version of the one he knew–it was still you. Down to your hair, eyes and lips. Even the way your nose would scrunch in disgust and the way you walked and fiddled with your fingers. It was all still you. He wasn’t going to lose his chance.

So he kissed you.

He kissed you like a man starved, practically bending your back as he curled himself on top of you. You wrapped your arms around his neck to gain some stability while he pulled you close enough for you to go on your tiptoes. He tilted his head, deepening the kiss and his hand left your cheek to bend slightly to pick you up. You got the hint and wrapped your legs around him and Miguel pressed you up against the wall. His growing erection grinding slowly on your clothed heat, making the two of you moan.

Your fingers curled into his fiery hair just the way he liked and his hands grabbed at every piece of flesh he could squeeze in his palms. Miguel’s lips separated from yours, a string of saliva connecting the two of you until he brought his lips down to your neck. You leaned your head back on the wall while he worked his magic, licking and nipping at your flesh with care due to his fangs. You heard him moan, gripping you tighter as he tasted you and your breathing became heavier.

Miguel lifted you off the wall, hurrying towards his bedroom and plopping your body down on the plush, soft mattress. He took your thighs and separated them to see the wet patch seeping out your spider suit. You felt his talons gently probing your skin and his eyes met yours again as he paused.

You nodded once again and with new vigor, he took one clawed hand and slashed the bottom half of your suit apart along with your panties. You gasped.

“Miguel…!”

“I’ll get you ten shocking suits. Just let me have you.” He groaned and delved between your legs. He licked up a stripe and your breath hitched, your hands immediately finding his hair. Miguel felt himself strain in his own suit, bucking his hips pathetically against anything he could find while he ate you out. His tongue probed your entrance and his nose rubbed against your clit that made your arch your back and thrust yourself on his mouth. His fingers joined his mouth in pushing you to your limit, coaxing more moans and whimpers from your pouting lips.

You covered up your mouth with your hand, covering up your face in embarrassment. The sounds of Miguel slurping and licking up your essence made you so much more wet and weak. You squirm underneath his hands and Miguel growls, using his strength to keep your legs in place and apart while he indulges in the taste of you. His eyes are closed, salivating and devouring your juices with every lap of his tongue. His fingers spread your lips open, sliding one finger in and swirling his tongue in your pussy. You clench around his wet muscle and finger, feeling him smirk against you.

Miguel continues to ease his finger inside you, pumping it too slowly for your liking. You whined which made his cock twitch and you pleaded for more. Drunk on your sweetness, he complied and added a second finger, the stretch becoming evident. You arched your back off the bed and you felt Miguel's other hand caress your thigh comfortingly. His moans send vibrations to your clit and grind yourself desperately on him while squealing his name.

“Hmm–Fuck, Mi-ggy…” You whined, pressing your thighs around his head. You felt Miguel pause for a split second, the nickname you’ve given him had gone straight between his legs. He gained more confidence to please you, taking his fingers out to grab your breast and sucking on your clit. The sensation of him forcibly spreading you apart again and the combination of your nipple being tweaked pulled and his tongue made you feel shocks of electricity down your spine. You felt the pit of your abdomen growing with your upcoming climax and you started thrashing around as much as you could with Miguel holding you down.

“Miggy! Fuck–Don’t stop!” As if he would ever, now that he’s tasted your delectable pussy. He only continued the same pace that had you squirming and chasing you high. His fingers teasing your nipples after every swirl of his tongue and the bubble pops inside you.

You scream his name into the air and grip on the sheets beside you while screwing your eyes shut. You humped on his eager mouth, drinking in whatever you gave him with a satisfied hum. He pressed closer to make sure he could lap up as much as he could but still, drips of you slid down his chin and around his lips. You mewled when the high finished and you were left with a sensitive pussy that he still made sure to clean you up with his mouth.

With hazy eyes, you stared at him still between your legs, watching with a smirk as you collected yourself. Miguel swirled his tongue around his lips to clean himself off and even used his hands to scoop up the parts he couldn’t reach to lick it off spotlessly, not a single ounce of your cum going to waste. It made you burn in embarrassment but also gaining a weak pulse to your twitching pussy.

He kneeled over you, drinking in your naked body from the flyaways in your hair to the way your legs shook after just orgasming. His stare was intense and it made you want to hide yourself from just how long he’d been looking at you for. You didn’t know it, but Miguel felt a twinge of heartache in his chest. He missed you–the other you dearly– and it felt strange that in a way you’re still here but different. He felt afraid that this might’ve been on impulse. You look like her, sound like her, but yet you haven’t experienced things with him like her. The you in front of him was, in a way, a whole different woman.

“Miguel?” You gently pulled him out of his mind. Oh, how your eyes still send his heart racing when he looks at you. Your eyes held concern and worry in them. Was he regretting it? Should you stop? It was the opposite. One look at you and Miguel’s worries had faded.

It’s still you down to your core. The one he had truly fallen in love with. In every lifetime and in every universe, he was meant to be beside you. He leaned in to nuzzle against the softness of your neck and pressed a lingering kiss to your jaw. “Nothing,” He eased your worries. “You’re just simply gorgeous.” He murmured and you felt a blush crawl up your neck.

Miguel made his way down your neck to your chest where he continued to leave kisses in his wake. His head of red hair curled slightly from the sweat that had built up between the two of you and it tickled you on his way down. Your bashful state was cut short when he flicked your nipple with his tongue and it made you whimper. Your mind had gone up in the clouds once more when he began suckling on the bud, the nerves of it sending signals to your pussy, making you wet again.

Miguel took a moment to rid himself of his own suit and underwear, returning to please your tender breasts. His knee had gone in between your thighs to push one leg away and his hand delved down to rub your swollen clit. His fingers rubbed in small circles that made you melt and lean your head back while his mouth continued its attack on gently biting your now hardened nipples. Your hands ran through his hair which encouraged him further and you both moaned in unison.

Miguel pulled away from your tits, a small smirk on his lips as he saw the bitemark around your bud beginning to form. His hand left your sopping cunt and licked off the sweet nectar that was you with a hum of his voice. The sight left you shivering and he leaned back down to kiss you, making you taste yourself. You mewled as he forced his tongue inside to find yours in a heated dance. Your eyes rolled back and you pressed your chest up which made him groan when he felt your hard nipples graze his skin.

You felt a blunt poke at your entrance and Miguel pulled away just enough for his forehead to be above yours. He looked into your eyes, another check to see if this is what you wanted–what you both wanted. You nodded again, firmly this time, and he didn’t need another second.

Miguel pushed his fat cockhead between your lips to coat his length before entering it inside you. You winced and Miguel buried himself in your neck, his hand on your hip, caressing you and encouraging you to hold onto him. You wrapped your arms around him as he pushed further inside you, his size being nothing you’ve experienced. “I know, I know,” He shushed you, kissing your neck to distract you. “Such a pretty girl. You can take it, sweetheart.”

You whimpered at his praise, digging your nails in his back that left red crescents behind, a faint click sounding out that neither of you heard when you bumped your hand on his shoulder. “Miguel…” You moaned, spreading your legs further apart while he shook, sliding himself inside you.

Miguel moaned your name back, finally pushing himself to the hilt and his balls slapping your cunt with a wet smack from the combination of your weeping core and his spit. You wiggled your hips at the snug fit and tried to get used to his size but he stopped you, hissing and digging his nails in your flesh to anchor himself from cumming immediately. He kissed your cheeks to ease you while he gently pulled in and out in small strokes.

“More….harder…” You mewled, your walls finally used to his girth and clamping down on his throbbing cock to suck him in deeper. Miguel grabbed your hips and lifted it up with his inhumane strength and began moving, his cock glistening with your slick when he pulled out and hearing it squelch inside your wet cunt when he pushed back in. Your nails scratched at his chest and he grabbed one of your hands to press a kiss to the inside of your wrist. “You’re driving me crazy,” Miguel moaned. “This cunt’s just been waiting to be fucked, huh?” He huffed, slowly gaining speed. When you didn’t respond, he slammed into you and made you scream from his tip hitting your sweet spot. “Yes!” You sobbed, feeling his hands push your legs up to your chest and hammered himself in your pussy. You wrapped your arms around him while he pounded into you, hiding yourself in his neck. The bed creaked below you two, sheets shuffling from the force of Miguel ravaging your body. Miguel rested his arm above your head and held onto your thigh, making sure you were spread open while he adjusted his position to be more comfortable while pistoning his throbbing cock. He let out small grunts and moans, nipping at your neck and being careful with his fangs. With his dick hitting a different spot, you wrapped your legs around his waist to push him deeper. It seemed like even with him stretching your walls and splitting you apart, it was never enough–you wanted more. In the pit of your stomach, you knew you needed to have something more. His fucking was still mind-blowing, his talons gently poking your plush thighs and balls slapping rhythmically to the sounds of your whimpers and cries, which he adored. “So pretty, you sing so pretty for me,” He murmured, choking on his own pleasure as he felt you gushing around him just from the sheer ecstasy that coursed through your veins. “So tight and so warm—oh, god–” He groaned, picking up pace that had you squealing and clenching around him. “Lemme fill this pretty pussy, hm? Can I? Hm?” He moaned, trailing his wet lips down your chest to latch onto your nippled again, His tongue flicking the perky nub and pulling it between his teeth.

“Yes, yes, yes–God, yes–please!” You wailed, your hands scratching his shoulder blades and digging into his skin for purchase while you bucked in time with his thrusting. You eyes rolled back then closing them to focus on the way his cockhead was slamming into your sweet spot at just the pace you liked. You felt Miguel suck on your nipple, switching to the other side to give it equal amounts of attention. You shuttered and cried his name, finally feeling the dam break inside you. “Miguel!” Your vision going white and the euphoria of it washing over your body while you felt your pussy cum all over his length and squeezing him. Miguel let out a guttural groan deep from his throat when he felt you cum and clamp around him. Your cum slicked his cock and pelvis, and he then went faster to reach his own orgasm. You thrashed under him, feeling incredibly sensitive while he kept slapping against your pussy and pounding inside your walls. You moaned that you were just too sensitive, tears collecting at your eyes from overstimulation. He let go of your nipple and kissed you quickly to stop your whining. He lifted his head to watch you squeeze your eyes shut, gripping onto him tightly and whimpering. His eyes were bewitched with the scene of your tits bouncing, bite marks littered across the plump flesh. His eyes scanning down to see your slick making a mess between your legs after cumming, the way small strings connected to his person. But the sight of his massive cock sliding easily inside your pussy, your folds welcoming him by wrapping around him–he snapped from within and came hard. Miguel quickly grabbed the sheets so his talons could rip through them instead of you, his body curling as he let out a final groan and his cock spurted his seed in you. He continued to pump his load, feeling his cock soften and twitch out the rest of himself in strings of salty cum–a white ring forming on the base of his dick. He huffed, shaking as he made sure all of his cum stayed inside you. When he pulled out, a small white string connected from his tip to your pussy, slipping apart when he was far away enough. He watched the mess between your legs for a moment, breathing heavily as his seed oozed out of your folds and his heart began to beat a little bit faster.

Miguel carefully lifted himself off the bed to go to the bathroom and returned with a towel to clean between your legs. He carefully wiped your clean, being extra careful around your abused pussy. He watched you to make sure you weren’t in any discomfort, but you nearly fell asleep with how gentle he was. Miguel tossed the soiled towel into his hamper and slid back into bed with you. He brought you into his chest while he laid on his back, and he brought his covers up to your chin. You wrapped yourself around him and he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, his hand running up and down your arm soothingly.

For a while, neither of you spoke, a strange comforting silence in the air. That is, until Miguel broke it.

“Miggy?” He asked. You grunted, still half-asleep and barely conscious.

“Sorry.” You mumbled, thinking it was rude of you to call him something so casually. Miguel huffed and looked down at you, his other hand petting your hair back.

“No, no. I didn’t mind. It was cute,” He smiled even if you couldn’t see it. “Do you…think you could stay?” He asked hesitantly.

His question made you wake up, the tone had gone a little serious but you knew what he meant. “I can’t,” You whispered and you felt his chest deflate. You felt horrible but you knew better than to stay in a dimension that wasn’t yours. “But…maybe I could come back?” You offered.

Miguel stiffened and you heard his heart beating faster. “Really?” You nodded and snuggled against his chest.

“I can’t stay but it’s not against the rules to visit other dimensions.”

Miguel scoffed at the mention of rules but if he got to see you again then that’s all that matters. “Will you go in the morning?” He asked, hoping you’d say no.

“I think I’ll stay a while.” You murmured sleepily and Miguel grinned to himself, letting you sleep peacefully in his arms.

While you had fallen asleep in the comforting arms of your boss’ variant, you failed to notice the shutter of your watch clicking off from a call.

Miguel O’Hara, leader of the Spider Society and the one who had been looking for you all this time, was sitting alone in his office panting heavily. Sweat accumulated on his forehead and thighs, a hue of crimson across his cheeks as he let go of his softening cock. Splatters of his cum, drenched his hand and desk and he groaned realizing what he had done.

He hadn’t meant to spy on you and your intimacy with whoever you wanted. He wasn’t expecting to hear from you after losing you on a mission, much less moaning his name. At first, he was relieved that you were alive and was about to speak until you squealed his name so sweetly. Miguel froze, wondering if you somehow got home and didn’t tell him. Whatever you did on your time was yours, but you were calling out to him. Eventually he learned it wasn’t him, but a different version. He debated whether to click out or not but some sick and twisted emotion inside him reveled in the way you begged and writhed underneath his variant.

Miguel had phased his hardening cock out of his suit and began pumping it slowly in time with his variants thrusts. He focused solely on you rather than the man that looked nothing like him. Another sick thought in his head wished his variant looked more like him, so he could imagine himself fucking you properly. Miguel made sure he was muted as he grunted and cursed under his breath, muttering praises to you in Spanish he knew you couldn’t hear. He made sure to edge himself, wanting to cum when he heard you scream his name. He bursted a fat load onto himself and the desk as you cried out your orgasm, watching you throw your head back and clutch onto his variant while you shook violently around his cock.

He grit his teeth, jealousy brewing in his heart at how hard you came. He could do better.

Once his mind had cleared up, he blushed heavily, shame overcoming his previous desires and covered his face. Despite being alone, he felt someone watching–which was hypocritical given what he had done. Before he ended the call, he traced your coordinates to find where you had been stranded all this time. Tomorrow, he’d find you and get you back.

A/N: i'm a proud lover of all versions of miguel !!!!! please be patient for part 2 🙏

[aamircoeur]

Can i request Kenji sato having a s/o who is a popular idol in Japan who also can transform similar to ultraman? I can imagine the stress🧍‍♀️

the man behind. ー ultraman, ken sato.

ultraman expresses his worries after a battle.

sfw. comfort, fluff. scenarios and situations are made up! female reader. UNEDITED

hi baby thank u for the req 🤍 ure the first one i've had in a long while so thank you for the interest and i apologize for my rusty writing :^P also i wasn't sure if you wanted hcs or a story but i went with the latter D: i hope you still like it, happy reading! 🤍

"i told you not to interfere, luxe." ultraman said, standing beside you in the middle of the blue-colored smokescreen that you made.

"yeah? well, it looked like you needed some help, ulti," you teased.

"told you not to call me that, too." he rolled his eyes and got into a battle stance.

a rhino-type kaiju appeared once again in the city, and it was your job as sapphire luxe to protect the people. and apparently it was ultraman's too.

[name] [surname], stage name: miki [name], inspired by the singer-artist miki matsubara. you debuted as a member of a 5-member idol group whose debut song ranked top 1 for 16 weeks. unfortunately, due to some mistreatment from the company, you left, hoping for the best for the rest of your members.

but since then, you've debuted as a solo artist under the same name and have been rising through the japanese artist charts. during this time, you caught the eye of ken sato, the baseball player of japan.

the two of you met at an annual event held for celebrities who have made recent breakthroughs; you were invited for being the top artist in japan as of the moment, recently gaining listeners globally, while ken sato was there with the giants for their recent win at the championships.

the two of you clicked, and since then, you've grown to get to know one another, knowing him more than this egoistic character that he portrayed. giving trust and sharing experiences, unveiling secrets to one another, until love came between the two of you, which brought the two of you here, transformed into your huge alter egos in the middle of the city against a kaiju.

"go home, luxe!" ultraman shouted as he shielded the two of you from the kaiju.

you furrowed your eyebrows and held your palm towards him. "duck!" you shouted. ultraman ducked without hesitation, and a strong beam of light was released from the sapphire gem of your palm. ultraman looked up at the sight of you, hair being pulled back by the wind from your move while sparkles from your beam surrounded you in his vision. you're perfect.

the kaiju was knocked a few buildings back, landing on its back, attempting to get up until it lost consciousness.

ー

shrinking down to your human sizes at a dark alleyway, ken turned to you immediately and held your arms. "i told you not to follow. why do you have to prove how hard your head can get?"

tired, you tried your best not to snap back at him. you were helping. what's his problem?

you felt his big hands tighten around your arms, holding you securely as if you were to run away. the two of you were panting out of exhaustion while you shared a moment of silence together before deciding to make a move to break it. you stared at his scratched up face. his eyebrows were furrowed, the top left having a scratch while cheeks had dirt. your kenji was just worried. he cares, you thought.

taking a deep breath, you held onto his forearms and pushed them down. you reached for his face, and because he didn't show any signs of stopping you, you held his face and rubbed the dirt off his cheeks. this movement alone slowed yours and ken's breathing. "anata, i'm fine." you spoke softly. ken closed his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows more, sighing as his head leaned into the touch of your right palm. "you know that, right?" you added.

he sighed once more. "i, i know that, [name]," he answered. "but, what if i lose you . . what if you get hurt?" his breath hitched. "i can't lose you, love."

"you won't lose me, kenji." you reassured, tip-toeing before leaning into his worried face and pecking his forehead. "i have ultraman with me." you smiled.

"but i'm w-weak sometimes, you know." he sighed again.

you moved your kisses to his closed eyelids. "never, anata," you said, now peppering kisses on his cheeks.

"and you, fuck, you're perfect. you're fragile, you're mine, my [name], your safety is never guaranteed. i need you to be safe, love, iー" he tried to counter your reassurance once more, but you weren't having it.

"kenji." you said firmly. ken opened his eyes to see your [color] eyes, which to him, was the most beautiful color that he's ever seen. "ultraman may have lost battles, and he may have shown weakness, but the man behind him is the strongest i know," you said. kenji hummed as his hands found their way to your waist. "you, kenji sato, is the bravest, most intelligent, and toughest person i know." you smiled.

ken sighed again, but with this one ending with a smile. "handsome too, yeah?" he added.

"the most handsome!" you exclaimed. "and i'm sapphire luxe, have you forgotten? don't take my name so lightly, anata. i've beaten just about the same amount of kaijus that you have, maybe even more! you know how hard i train when i have no schedule as an miki, mina knows how hard i've practiced that beam move! i've yet to find a name for it, you know. after cleaning up at home, do you want to think of one with me?" you rambled, and kenji just stared at your face with a smile while you did.

kenji pulled you into a hug, burying his face onto your neck and breathing the scent of your sweat and perfume that he's most familiar with. "thank you."

you smiled, thinking of saving all the talk for later. "you're always welcome, kenji."

[night-raven-tattler]

What's your ideal type?

Summary: What would be the best traits for their potential partner to have?

Characters: Pomefiore dorm (Vil, Epel, Rook) xGN!Reader (separate, romantic)

Other parts of the series: Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Ignihyde, Diasomnia

Warnings: none

By opening the document, you agree to Mx Tattly's terms of source confidentiality.

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Vil's ideal type would be...

Someone who appreciates fashion. Vil is a person with very refined, particular taste. It's important for you to also appreciate his tastes, even if you don't know much about them, in order to stay by his side.

Someone who is open to criticism. Being on a personal mission to make himself and the world around him the best it can be, Vil works tirelessly to improve. And that energy extends to the people around him. If you are willing to pay attention to his wisdom and opinions, you are a person Vil can appreciate.

Someone who is proud to be his partner. The Queen of Pomefiore, Mr Schoenheit herself, deserved to be venerated... but Vil is not looking for someone to kiss the dirt he walks on. He knows his worth, but he just wants someone to be proud of being with him for being who he is, from his public persona to the little nerd who reads the latest potion studies.

Someone who can deal with his overwhelming life. Vil has high standards that are hard to meet, and combined with his hectic schedule and his diminished privacy, Vil knows he would have a very hard time to find someone strong enough to date him. But if you at least try to meet him in the middle and try to find a comfortable place for the both of you, he would surely reciprocate in kind.

『••✎••』

Epel's ideal type would be...

Someone he can be himself with. It's a known fact Epel has a hard time picking what parts of his genuine personality he can show to the world while following Vil's guidance, and the mask often slips. From slipping into his accent to scratching his hands while climbing trees, Epel would feel more comfortable if the mask fell with someone that likes to see those parts of him, too.

Someone who likes apples. Would you be surprised to know that the Harveston boy who pretty much breathes apples every day would think disliking apples is a deal breaker? You need to at least tolerate them. If you happen to have an apple allergy, you're on thin ice.

Someone he can be strong for. Epel has a very specific idea of what being a strong man means. While some of that image is not rooted in the best beliefs, Epel still thinks that partners are supposed to protect each other. If you're the only one being strong for him and treating him like a damsel in distress, it's gonna give his ego a huge hit.

Someone who waits for him to make the first move. An idea also rooted in what he thinks a strong man should be, Epel wants to prove his resolve in building a partnership by making the first move. It would take some time for him to do so, since he would need to deal with his whole "sappy romance is for losers" mentality first. But he'll appreciate you if you wait for him.

『••✎••』

Rook's ideal type would be...

Someone with a curious nature. Rook is in love with the whole known and unknown world, and wants to discover all of the world's beauties. And sometimes a hunter needs a right hand, following him closely and being part of the process. If you can be that for him, you'd get to see him at his most gleeful.

Someone who is open minded. A lover of beauty in all of its forms would need someone just as appreciative by his side. Even if you don't carry the same love he does, you can at least appreciate the things he does: trying to see the appeal of things he finds appealing would make his heart soar. After all, you're just trying to see a glimpse of the world through his eyes, non?

Someone who gives back the energy he gives to them. Rook's easily excitable nature can be off putting to some, and downright annoying to others. While he can deal with it, it can get exhausting. If you can respond to him with the same energy and try to meet him halfway, it would make his heart skip a beat.

Someone who can reign in his impulsive nature. Let's be honest, Rook is not known for his absolute patience. While he can monitor his targets until he gets what he wants, Rook can also jump into danger even if he is aware of the consequences. He needs you to grab his shoulder and look for alternatives, even if he would want you two to jump in together.

『••✎••』

[onlinesuzie]

☆ hooking up with hamzah ☆

words: 3.1k

genre: heavy smut, dom hamzah

summary: You are invited to a small party at Mandy's apartment but when you are introduced to Hamzah, you realise he's the boy you had the most insane hook up with and now obviously you can't resist the chance of hooking up again.

notes: i gotta be real, i gotta ring the police after this cause damn this is most insane thing i've ever written.

♡

You were sitting in your living room, half-watching TV when your phone buzzed with a message. It was from Mandy, one of your close friends.

"hey my love! i’m having this little party thing at my place this saturday, please please please can you come! martin’s bringing a friend… ;)"

You smiled at the message, feeling extremely excited. You hadn’t seen Mandy and her boyfriend, Martin, in a while, and the idea of a relaxed evening with friends sounded perfect. You quickly typed back your reply.

"i’m free!! i can’t wait to see you"

When Saturday arrived, you spent a little extra time getting ready, choosing an outfit that made you feel extra good. As you arrived at Mandy’s apartment, the familiar hum of music and chatter greeted you from inside. You knocked, and a moment later, Mandy opened the door with a wide grin.

"You made it!" she exclaimed, pulling you into a hug. The apartment was slightly hot from the people moving around and laughing loudly, it was filled with chatter and the slight smell of alcohol.

Martin was in the kitchen, mixing drinks. When he saw you, he waved. "Hey! come here and get a drink!" he said, motioning for you to come over. You exchanged a few waves and hugs of the people you knew, catching up on life since the last time you’d all hung out.

Mandy appeared beside you, practically bouncing around, probably already tipsy. "Oh, yes! I need to introduce you to Martin's friend!" she said, her eyes disappearing with how smiley she was. Without waiting for your response, she started grabbed your hand, leading you through the room.

As you followed her, you wondered who this friend could be. Mandy stopped near the living room, turning to you with a smile. "This is Hamzah," she said, gesturing to a man standing nearby. Your breath caught in your throat as you recognized him immediately. It was Hamzah—the guy you had hooked up with a few weeks ago.

His eyes widened slightly as he recognized you, and for a moment, there was a silent exchange between the two of you. He gulped slightly but finally breaking the silence with a small, amused smile.

"Hey," he said, his voice soft, with just a hint of teasing. "Nice to see you.. again." the last word quiet enough for only the both of you to hear.

You felt your cheeks heat up, but you managed a smile. "Yeah, you too."

Mandy, oblivious to the history between you two, grinned. "I’ll leave you to get to know each other!" she said before disappearing back into the crowd.

Once she was gone, you and Hamzah exchanged an awkward laugh. "This is... unexpected," he said, scratching the back of his neck.

You nodded, feeling the same awkwardness. "Yeah, definitely unexpected."

Despite the initial feeling, the conversation quickly found its rhythm. You and Hamzah started talking, easing into a comfortable banter. The more you talked, the more you remembered why you’d been drawn to him that night a few weeks ago. There was a spark between you, a feeling that was hard to ignore.

As the night went on, that spark began to intensify. You noticed the way his eyes lingered on you when he thought you weren’t looking, the way his voice dropped a little lower when he spoke just to you. You especially noticed the way he slowly swiped his tongue along his bottom lip when he looked you up and down. It was like there was a tension building pull between the two of you, something that had been there all night, just waiting to be released.

At some point, you found yourself standing close to him near the hallway, the rest of the party fading into the background. The air between you was tense, and you could tell by the way he was looking at you that he felt it too.

"Do you want to... go somewhere more private?" he asked, leaning in close to whisper in your ear.

Your heart raced at his suggestion, but you nodded, a shy smile on your lips. Without another word, you led him down the hall, toward the bathroom at the end. Once inside, you closed the door behind you, the small space suddenly feeling even smaller.

The moment the door clicked shut, the tension between you snapped. Hamzah stepped forward, his eyelids heavy and warmth grew within you, his hand brushing against your cheek as he leaned in. His lips found yours in a rough and sloppy kiss, the familiarity of it sending a rush of adrenaline through you.

As kiss got deeper, it was becoming more intense as the memories of that night came flooding back. His hands snaking their way to your waist, pulling you closer, and you responded by placing your hands on his chest , your fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt.

Time seemed to stand still as you lost yourself in the moment, the rest of the party forgotten. The thrill of being so close to him again, in this unexpected situation, was intoxicating.

Eventually, the sound of laughter from the party brought you back to reality. You pulled back slightly, both of you breathing heavily.

Hamzah smiled, his thumb brushing your cheek. "That was... so hot," he said.

You laughed softly, feeling a mix of excitement and satisfaction. "Yeah, but I need more of you Hamzah."

He chuckled, pressing a quick, playful kiss to your lips before stepping back.

You and Hamzah linger in the bathroom for a moment longer, catching your breath, exchanging a few soft laughs as the reality of what just happened sinks in. There’s a shared look between you. The party outside feels like a distant hum, irrelevant to the little world you’ve just created together.

Finally, you straighten your clothes, both of you taking a moment to collect yourselves. Hamzah glances at you, his smile soft and a little teasing. “Ready to head back out?” he asks, his voice low.

You nod, still feeling the warmth of his touch lingering on your skin. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Opening the bathroom door, you slip back into the hallway. The noise of the party floods your senses once again, but it’s as if there’s an invisible bubble around the two of you—nothing else seems to matter. You share a quick, private smile with Hamzah before heading back into the main room.

The two of you rejoin the party, and while you try to blend back in, you can’t help but notice the lingering gazes between you. There’s a silent communication in every glance, every touch. It’s not long before Hamzah leans in close, his breath warm against your ear as he whispers, “Want to get out of here?”

Your heart skips a beat, and you find yourself nodding without hesitation. The idea of continuing, of seeing where it could go, is too tempting to resist. Together, you make your way to the door, weaving through the crowd.

As you approach Mandy and Martin, who are chatting with a couple of other guests, you gently tap Mandy on the shoulder. She turns around, her face lighting up with a smile when she sees you. “You’re heading out?” she asks, her eyes flickering between you and Hamzah.

“Yeah, I think we’re going to call it a night,” you say, trying to keep your tone casual. But there’s no hiding the way Hamzah’s hand finds yours, fingers intertwining as he steps up beside you.

Mandy’s smile widens, a knowing glint in her eyes. “Well, it was great seeing you both! Don’t be weird, okay?” She pulls you into a quick hug, and then one for Hamzah, who exchanges a nod with Martin.

Martin gives you a thumbs-up and a wink as he notices your linked hands. “Take care, guys,” he says, clearly amused but in a friendly, supportive way.

You and Hamzah say your final goodbyes before slipping out of the apartment together. The night air is cool and refreshing after the warmth of the party. Hamzah leads you to his car parked a little way down the street, his hand still firmly in yours.

As you reach his car, he gets into the driver’s seat, and for a moment, neither of you moves. The quiet of the car is almost deafening, filled only with the sound of your breathing and the faint hum of the engine when Hamzah starts it. His hand rests on the steering wheel, the other on the gearshift, but you can feel his eyes on you, stealing glances as if he’s trying to gauge your thoughts.

You turn to look at him, your gaze meeting his in the dim light of the car’s interior. The tension is strong now, thickening the air between you. The memory of his touch in the bathroom, the way he made you feel weeks prior, is all too fresh. And by the way his eyes darken when they lock with yours, you know he’s thinking the same thing.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice low and rough, almost hesitant. It’s a simple question, but the weight behind it is heavy.

“I’m more than okay,” you reply, your voice soft but steady. There’s a slight quiver of excitement in your tone, something he doesn’t miss.

A small smile tugs at his lips, and his hand finally leaves the gearshift, sliding over to rest on your thigh. The touch is gentle at first, but you can feel the warmth of his palm through your clothes, the heat spreading like a slow burn. He squeezes lightly, his fingers flexing against your skin, and it takes everything in you not to shiver under his touch.

“You’re sure about this?” he asks, his eyes searching yours. There’s something deeper in his gaze now, not just desire but a hint of vulnerability, as if he needs reassurance that this isn’t just a fleeting moment.

You nod, feeling a surge of affection for him. “I’m sure, Hamzah.”

That’s all it takes for the tension to snap. He leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that starts slow, as if he’s savoring the moment. But it quickly deepens, his hand tightening on your thigh as he pulls you closer, the kiss becoming more intense.

You can feel the heat building between you, the way his touch becomes more needy, the way his breathing quickens. Your hands find their way to his chest, feeling the rapid thump of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. It’s the kind of kiss that makes you lose track of time, of everything except the feel of him against you.

Finally, he pulls back just enough to look at you, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts. “Let’s get out of here,” he says, his voice rough with need.

You nod again, unable to find the words to express the whirlwind of emotions you’re feeling. He shifts the car into gear, his hand returning to your thigh as he drives, this time with more urgency, as if he can’t get you to his place fast enough.

His thumb strokes your skin absently, and every touch sends a jolt of electricity through you. It’s almost unbearable, this tension that’s coiled tight between you, ready to snap the moment you’re alone again. The city lights blur past as you drive, but you barely notice, too focused on the way his hand inches higher on your leg, teasing, testing you.

When you finally pull into his driveway, the tension reaches its peak. Hamzah cuts the engine and turns to you, his eyes blazing with desire and something deeper, something that makes your heart race even faster.

“Ready?” he asks, his voice a low, throaty whisper.

Instead of answering, you lean in and kiss him again, your hand sliding up the back of his neck, pulling him closer. It’s all the answer he needs. The kiss is hungry, desperate, as if you’ve both been holding back for too long. His hand on your thigh tightens, pulling you even closer, and you can feel the heat of his body radiating through the small space between you.

Breaking the kiss, Hamzah quickly gets out of the car, and you follow suit, both of you stumbling out. He takes your hand again, leading you toward the front door. The night is cool around you, but the heat between you both is undeniable, impossible to ignore.

The moment the door closes behind you, you know there’s no going back. The tension that’s been building all night finally has its outlet, and neither of you is going to hold back.

As you walked towards his place, you subtly moved closer to him, your shoulder brushing against his. You could feel the heat between you, and you knew tonight was going to be intense. Hamzah couldn't take his eyes off you, his gaze burning with desire as he took in your body.

You smiled to yourself, knowing the effect you had on him. Reaching his door, he fumbled with the keys, his hands shaking slightly as he struggled to focus. You placed your hand on his, a simple touch that sent a spark through him, as he guided the key into the lock.

The door swung open, and he stepped aside to let you enter first. You took a moment to glance back at him before stepping into the hallway. Hamzah followed close behind, his breath soft on the back of your neck, making your skin tingle.

You didn't turn on the main lights, opting for the softer glow of lamps instead. You turned to face him, your bodies now just inches apart.

Hamzah's eyes devoured you, taking in your every curve and the way your clothes hugged your body. You could see the desire and hunger in his eyes, which only further turned you on. Leaning forward, you pressed your body against his, feeling the hard planes of his chest and the stiffness of his cock through his pants.

His hands found your hips, pulling you closer as his mouth claimed yours in a passionate kiss. You moaned into his mouth, your tongue dueling with his as your hands roamed over his broad shoulders and down his back. You could feel his cock twitch against your stomach, and you knew he was just as desperate for release as you were.

Breaking the kiss, you trailed your lips down his jaw and neck, nipping and sucking at his sensitive skin. He tilted his head back, a soft groan escaping his lips as you marked him with your mouth.

"I want you," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "I need to feel you, all of you."

You smiled at his desperation. This wasn't the first time you had hooked up, but it was clear that Hamzah was still just as obsessed with your body as he had been the first time. And you loved having this effect on him.

Guiding him towards the bedroom, you pushed him gently onto the edge of the bed. He sat there, watching you with dark, wanting eyes as you slowly began to undress. You removed your shirt, teasing him by covering your breasts with your arms, before finally revealing them.

His breath hitched as your breasts were exposed, his eyes glued to you as you slowly unbuttoned your jeans. Sliding them down your legs, you stepped out of them, now wearing nothing but your underwear. Hamzah's cock twitched in his pants, straining against the fabric as he got a full view of your body.

Kneeling before him, you placed soft kisses up his thighs, your hands roaming over his hard chest as you undid his belt. With slow, deliberate movements, you unbuttoned his pants and pulled down the zipper, reaching inside to wrap your hand around his throbbing cock.

He hissed at the feeling of your soft hand on his hard length, his hips bucking slightly as you began to stroke him. You leaned in, pressing a kiss to the head of his cock before taking him into your warm, wet mouth. He groaned, his hands tangling in your hair as you sucked him deeply, your tongue swirling and teasing.

"Fuck, that feels so good," he murmured, his hips thrusting gently as you took your time, exploring every inch of him with your mouth. You moaned softly, the vibrations sending shivers through him.

Pulling off his cock, you stood up and finished undressing, revealing your naked body. Hamzah's eyes feasted on your every curve, his mouth hanging open slightly as he took in your perfection.

"You look even hotter like this Hamzah," you whispered, pushing him back onto the bed and climbing on top of him. You straddled his waist, your pussy hovering just above his cock as you leaned down to kiss him deeply.

He kissed you back hungrily, his hands grasping your ass as he pulled you against him. You aligned yourself with his cock, feeling the head press against you. Slowly, you sank down, sitting down on his length as you threw your head back in pleasure.

Hamzah groaned, his eyes rolling back as he filled you completely. You rode him slowly at first, savoring the feeling of him stretching you wide.

"Your body is so fucking perfect," he muttered, his eyes taking in the sight of your naked skin glistening with a light sheen of sweat. "I could worship this body forever."

His words sent a rush of heat between your legs, and you increased your pace, riding him harder as you clenched around his cock. He thrust up to meet your movements, his hips slamming into yours as he filled you completely.

The bed creaked with the force of both of you, your moans and groans filling the room as you drove each other wild. Hamzah's hands gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as he pounded into you.

"Cum for me," he growled, his voice husky and full of need. "Let me feel you cum around my cock."

His dirty words sent you over the edge, and you cried out as your orgasm washed over you. You clenched around his cock, enjoying the wave after wave of pleasure crashing through your body.

Feeling you tighten around him, Hamzah let out a moan, his cock twitching as he filled you with him. You collapsed against him, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you felt his warm release deep inside you.

For several moments, you lay there, your bodies entangled and your hearts pounding. Eventually, you rolled off him, a lazy smile on your face as you snuggled into his side.

"That was incredible," he whispered, his voice full of satisfaction as he played with your hair. "I can't get enough of you."

You smiled, knowing that this wouldn't be the last time you'd hook up. Hamzah was obsessed, and you were more than happy to give him more.

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet Cute - Law's Story - 15

Source for pic

The Great Pretender 15

Word Count: 3499

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Law is a soft dom; you have bratty tendencies (not all the time); voice kink; praise kink; cursing; very suggestive behaviour and innuendo from the start; sexual tension; teasing; so much flirting; romance; slow-burn; fluff; slight angst; mature audiences (though explicit NSFW moments will be properly tagged on the chapter); possessive Law; protective Law; soft Law; teasing Law; manipulative Doflamingo; inappropriate Doflamingo; fake relationship trope; only one-bed trope; reader has some anxiety issues; reader is a control freak and perfectionist; modern day AU; Mention of ex mentally abusive relationship;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Law (your father's doctor) start to build a flirty friendship because of your father’s procedure. So much so that when he’s invited to Baby 5’s wedding (his cousin), he asks you to be his date. His uncle Doflamingo - who is filthy rich - is very adamant on finding a suitable wife for him. Seeing as he wants to avoid that, he asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for the weekend.

Notes: Do forgive me for the small chapter... *sigh*

|Masterlist| | |Chapter 14🔞| | |Chapter 16|

“Cariño, having fun?”

Shit.

“Sir?” You ask, feigning innocence.

“Don’t pretend, darling, it doesn’t suit you.” Doffy takes a step forward, towering over you in an intimidating manner. He has an unsettling grin on his lips and the usual glint in his red eyes. “You and my nephew? You can’t hide that pretty glow.” He purrs and you flush deeper. “Too bad that this time I didn’t get to hear any of your pretty noises…” 

Doflamingo keeps circling you as if you were prey. His eyes locked on your form, noticing any shiver, any tremble, any kind of movement that might give anything away. “Of course, we can remedy that, mi querida. Anytime you want.” He leans down, his breath warm against your ear. “You see, while my dear nephew might have advised you to keep quiet, pretending to be sneaky, I would prefer to hear you scream my name loud and clear so every guest knew what I was doing to you and how much you were enjoying it.”

You take a step back, your breath hitching in your throat as your hands clench into fists. “That’s utterly inappropriate, Sir.” Then you try to move forward to get away from his clutches, but he towers over you again. 

“That’s not what you want? Because I can figure out what it is.” Cocking his head to the side, he hums lightly, one finger pressed against his lips as if he’s in deep thought. “Is it power, then? Because I can make sure you’re in all the right circles, rubbing shoulders with anyone who matters.” 

You stiffen at the implication. He’s trying to fish for information again. You just have to keep steady, there’s nothing to hide. Nothing except the agonising rhythm of your heart, your anxiety clawing its way up your throat, scratching it and making it hard to speak. 

“No? Influence, then? I know all the right people. You’d never have to feel unnoticed again.” Raising your chin, you meet his gaze with defiance, showing more bravado than you actually possess. “Money? It has to be money. I can offer you a lifestyle beyond your wildest imagination: beach houses, penthouses, luxury cars, designer clothes… all yours.”

“I don’t want any of that, Doflamingo, Sir.” Your voice shakes a little and you curse under your breath. Doffy caught you at a vulnerable state and you’re still too addled for this to be a fair battle of wits. 

“So it’s just the thrill of it?” Doffy starts to circle you again, one of his fingers running along a strand of hair, and you hold your breath. “You are so hard to read, princesa, so, so hard. When I think I have you figured out, you sweep the rug from under me.” He tuts and stops, chin resting on his knuckles, a pensive expression on his face as he looks at you.

“Then there’s Vinsmoke Ichiji. I mean,” he scoffs, “I get why you left him, he’s an asshole. What I don’t get is why you were with him for four years. It just doesn’t add up. What did he give you? What did you gain from that relationship?”

Heartache? Trauma? Pain?

“And what do you want from Law?” Doflamingo almost growls, the smirk now gone, replaced by a frown as he leans down, his face mere inches from yours. “Because I know you weren’t together before this weekend. You weren’t dating.” He raises his hand to stop the words that are about to leave your lips - a weak denial, actually - and he continues. “Don’t deny it, princesa, once again, it doesn’t suit you. I investigated this, whatever you two have, and it happened this weekend. But I want to know why. What do you want from Law?”

You decide not to answer him. Your heart seems ready to jump out of your chest at a moment’s notice, and you’re more flustered now than you were after your little escapade with Law. 

“It’s okay, I’ll figure you out, one way or another. You won’t get what you want. I will find out just what makes you tick, and then you’ll fold. They all do.” Doffy’s words are menacing and ominous, sending a cold shiver down your spine. 

“I’m not hiding anything. I am who I am, and Law and I are together because we care about each other. I am not a puzzle waiting to be solved.” The words leave your lips through clenched teeth. Hard-edged, shaky and defiant, leaving you breathless with the effort of keeping steady. 

“Oh, cariño, but you are.” He caresses your cheek, making you hiss and step back. “I will solve you. Don’t worry.” His laugh follows him down the corridor until he disappears around the corner, a hand in the air waving goodbye as you try to catch your breath and calm your unsteady heart. 

-*-

You run into Law as you decide to go to the bathroom instead of heading towards the reception area. You’re so deep in your own head that you nearly stumble into him.

“Hey, hey, sweetheart, what's going on?”

With a frustrated grunt, you tell him about your encounter with his uncle. “So now we know he knows, plus Ichiji is here, and I’m feeling more and more trapped, Law.” You sigh. “It’s like Doffy won’t relent until he breaks us apart.” Your trembling hands clutch the lapels of Law’s jacket. “I don’t want to lose you.”

Law never wavers. His cool, controlled persona manages to calm your irrational fears and delusions as he brings you closer to him. Amber eyes piercing straight into your soul, keeping you tethered as your lack of control sends you spiralling further away from reality. 

“Sweetheart, you won’t lose me.” Law kisses your temple softly. “So what if Doffy knows we weren’t together before? Let him believe what he wants, we’re together now, and we’re leaving tomorrow. Nothing he says or does will keep us apart. Okay?”

You nod, and Law sighs, his arms enveloping you in a cocoon of safety. “I should’ve never brought you here. I’m sorry. I knew my uncle was… extra, and I still subjected you to this.”

“Don’t say that.” Your whisper almost gets lost in the confines of his vest, where you have your head buried. “If you hadn’t asked me to do this, ‘we’ might not have happened.”

Law’s chuckle is quite cocksure. “Trust me, sweetheart, ‘we’ would’ve happened. One way or another.” You blush as a smile finally creeps its way onto your lips. The warmth in your chest expanding and taking hold of you. He seems so certain of the possibility of you two as a couple, like nothing could ever stand in your way. It's heartwarming.

It would be so easy… just open your lips and say it: I love you. It’s not that hard. You’re not ripping out a piece of your soul, even if the last person you uttered those words to completely destroyed you. 

Law is special.

Just say it.

Say it.

Law cups your cheek and tilts your head so you can face him. “Let’s go back? Get this wedding over and done with so we can finally go home?” You nod, teetering between the lines of the bitter and the sweet. Your words seem trapped, lodged in your throat, held ransom by deep-seated trauma. And yet, you know that you’ve never loved like you love Law. And you know it’s a feeling that will only continue to expand and grow. 

But the words remain imprisoned.

-*-

The cake has been cut, the bouquet tossed and the remainder of the night seems to have cooled off all of Doffy’s and Ichiji’s attempts to disrupt your newfound peace. Just another hour or two before you and Law can retire to your room, and then this whole nightmare will be over. 

So the dream can finally begin. 

It might be silly, since you’re still at the beginning of the relationship, but perhaps because of the romantic vibe of the wedding, you can’t help but think about what your next steps will be. You’ll date, obviously, because you never properly did that; you’ll spend a lot of time together; and then… maybe you can think about living together. Give ‘domestic’ another chance. 

You and Law at at the table, resting your feet after standing in heels all day and he’s in the middle of promising you a very long massage once you’re back in your room. His lips hover over your ear as his fingers trace your thigh with a feather-light touch.

“I’m very good with anatomy, you know. I’m a doctor.” He teases, and you giggle, your eyes fixed on his. “I’ll start with your feet - I’m familiar with a lot of acupuncture pressure points, and some of them might bring you interesting sensations - then I’ll climb to your calves, knees…” His fingers trail up your thigh, his gaze mischievous. “Thigh… inner thigh…”

“And…?” You ask, breathless.

Law kisses your face, then your jawline as you turn, letting him catch your lips in a tender kiss. “And I can’t disclose the rest of my plan. I’ll keep it a surprise. I want to hear every little startled gasp that leaves your lips.”

A small chuckle makes your chest tremble. “You tease.”

From the corner of your eye, you can see Baby 5 and Sai approaching. They’ve been making rounds to all tables, thanking guests for coming and bestowing little gifts to them as a thank you. Law notices her approaching too, and he leans back slightly, his hand leaving your thigh and with it an empty feeling. 

“Soon, sweetheart.”

“Dear cousin!” Baby 5 smiles as Sai holds out a wicker basket of small gifts. “Oh, honey, there aren’t any more of those little whiskey bottles. Could you grab more?” She bats her lashes, and Sai complies, leaving her to engage in small talk with you and Law while he retrieves the gift. “Are you enjoying the wedding?”

She actually seems like she’s glowing from all the happiness. You nod excitedly while Law teases her, saying he’s attended better weddings. They banter a little, and you find yourself relaxing some more, hoping the night continues without any more hiccups. 

Except, as usual, things don’t go according to plan.

“Oh, I had no idea your girlfriend knew Sai’s groomsman, Ichiji! It all turned out perfectly after all, right?” She says your name and smiles. A pinch of dread twists in your stomach as she turns to the side and waves someone over. It’s Ichiji. 

You and Law immediately straighten up in your seats, your relaxed state long forgotten. His arm settles on the back of your chair protectively. 

“Ichiji, hi! I was just commenting on how remarkable it is that you two already knew each other. Doesn’t it make things easier?” Ichiji’s smirk reveals his canines, almost as if he’s a predator locking onto his prey, his intense gaze never leaving you. 

“Indeed. So remarkable. You know, Baby 5, we go waaaay back.” Ichiji’s stance speaks of provocation, and Law straightens further, his arm brushing your shoulders as you clutch your drink tighter, your jaw locking and legs bouncing restlessly. “Don’t we, Doll?”

Your breath hitches, and you don’t look back at him, but Baby 5 doesn’t seem to sense your discomfort. 

“Oh, how fun! You two must have some great stories to share, no? How’d you two meet?” Closing your eyes and holding your breath, you just will this moment to come to an end. Perhaps if you pray hard enough, Sai will come back with the gifts, and the bride and groom can go on their merry way.  

Even without looking, you can feel Ichiji’s smugness as he slowly sips his drink. “We met in college. Those days were wild… the stories we could tell…”

“I don’t think anybody wants to listen to that, Vinsmoke.” Law’s voice cuts as sharp as a knife, though he has perfect control over its tone. 

“Oh, come on, Trafalgar. I’m sure she didn’t share everything. Isn’t there anything you want to know about her wild days in college?” Memories come rushing back, and most of them are painful and demeaning. It seems that, even if there were some good moments at the start of your relationship with Ichiji, they were all drowned when he tainted everything with his manipulation and cruelty. 

Your breath comes out in shaky gasps, and Law’s hand rubs soothing circles on your shoulder blade. “She told me all I need to know. Even if she didn’t, there’s nothing you can say that will interest me.” Law’s words are delivered with more calm and ice than you’ve ever heard from him, but there’s also an undercurrent of danger pulsating beneath. His protective instincts are kicking in, and you can sense him itching to act on it.

Baby 5 keeps smiling, though it seems a little strained now that she senses some sort of tension between the three of you. “Wait… I don’t understand. Were you two…?” She trails off, her eyes darting from Ichiji’s smug look to Law’s protective stance, then to your cowering form. Her brows raise in slow realisation and Ichiji interjects.

“Yes. We were in love, once. Engaged to be married, even. Small world, indeed, isn’t that right, Doll?”

You squirm in your seat, and Baby 5’s expression shifts to horror. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” Her gaze keeps darting between Law and yours. “I didn’t know! I never meant to make things awkward!” She laces her arm through Ichiji’s trying to drag him away from the scene, but he doesn’t budge. 

“What do you mean, awkward? Not at all! We were just planning our future together, laying the foundations for our dream life. We were even discussing kids, right?” You can’t help it, your gaze falls back on his as all the colour drains from your face. How dare he?

You can barely breathe. The air is stifling, the heat overwhelming and the memories don’t stop. The word ‘Doll’ resounds in your head over and over as do his lies and manipulations. The clenching of your chest at how he made you feel, the powerlessness you had and all the power he held over you.

It’s too much.

All colours start to blur together, the room spins as you try to catch your breath, anxiety kicking in. In a second Law is up on his feet, pulling you up by the hand and supporting your weight against him.

He pins Ichiji in his cold gaze and practically snarls, his control slipping. “I warned you to stay the fuck away, Vinsmoke.” 

Baby 5 looks mortified, she keeps trying to pull Ichiji but Law is already ushering you away from the table since you seem unable to do much more than stand. “Ichiji, let’s go, please. I didn’t know! I’m sorry.”

“Oh, come on, Baby 5. Don’t worry, we were just reminiscing about the good times. No harm, no foul, right, Doll? I mean… she was mine first.” Your chest keeps tightening as the room becomes smaller, constricting, suffocating. Bringing your hand to your neck you try to claw for air.

Before leaving, Law’s towering frame seems to engulf Ichiji’s. In his gaze there’s an unspoken warning as he delivers his words with a calmness you would never be able to achieve. “You’re done here, Vinsmoke, but I am not done with you yet.”

The warning lingers in the air as Law steadies you, his hand on your waist, and leads you away from the table, away from Baby 5, away from Ichiji, and away from all the painful memories. 

“I’ve got you, sweetheart. Focus on me.”

But you can’t. The room is spinning out of control, and Ichiji’s manic laugh is all you can seem to focus on. His words, his empty promises, his threats, and fake concern. It’s a whirlwind of dizzying thoughts, and you don’t know how to get out.

You can feel yourself fighting for air, gasping because nothing seems to fill up your lungs. And suddenly you’re swaying in Law’s arms. He’s taken you to the dance floor, pulling you closer to him as his arms ground you.

“You’re safe. I’m here. He’s gone.” His hand presses against the back of your head, pulling you to his chest so you can follow the beat of his own heart and try to steady your own. Slowly, you start to hear the soft music over Ichiji’s laughter. Law’s voice pulls you out, keeping you centred. “He’ll never touch you again. You were never his.”

Inhaling a deep breath, you slowly feel yourself gaining ground. Your lungs are functioning again, and your heart beat is steadying. There’s nothing you can do to stop the tremble in your hands, though, so you just clutch Law’s jacket as tightly as you can, burying your face in him and inhaling his soothing scent, again and again. 

“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” 

You’re such a mess. You’ve already lost count of how many times Law has had to bring you down from your panic. It’s a full-time job for him now, and you feel the need to say you’re sorry. Would he still want you if he knew how badly damaged you were? You might be in too deep now, but there’s always time for him to regret his decision.

You sniffle, and a whimper leaves your lips. Law keeps swaying you. 

“How about a little distraction, hm?” Ever the attentive man, Law senses that words alone won’t stabilise you. “Let’s play a game, sweetheart, okay?” He tilts your chin so you’ll have to focus on his eyes. 

“Game?” How foreign your voice sounds. Shaky, weak, trembling and fragile. 

“Yeah.” He smiles gently, placing a small peck on your nose, trying to coax a smile from your lips. You try to focus, the bad memories slowly slipping away. “I bet I can make you smile before the song ends.”

It’s such a silly notion that it manages to shake you back to your senses, though the trembling still hasn’t subsided. “Make me smile?”

“Sure. If I manage to make you smile three times before we end our dance, I win.”

Your brows furrow in concentration. “And what happens if you win?”

“Bragging rights.” You twitch the corner of your lip but it’s not quite a smile, so he continues. “Fine. You’ll have to admit that you like me way more than you let on.”

Yeah, you do. So much more.

The first smile fully curves your lips upwards as you let out a breathy laugh, and Law’s posture loses some of its stiffness. “That’s one.” He grins, clearly pleased with himself.

Some of the tension begins to dissipate, and the weight pressing on your chest feels lighter. Your fingers are no longer clutching Law’s jacket for dear life. “Fair enough. What if I win?”

“Hmmm…” Law looks up, seemingly thinking of something to make you laugh again. Then a mischievous smirk fills his lips, and he leans forward to whisper in your ear. “I’ll let you be on top.”

Your breath hitches, and even when you try to fight it, a laugh escapes your lips as a flush fills your cheeks. 

“Two.” Law pulls you closer, the intensity in his gaze returning. He sways you some more before kissing the top of your head and voicing his thoughts, “I’m not going to let him near you again, sweetheart. I’m sorry he ever did.”

You nod, feeling the knot in your stomach finally start to unravel. Law’s soothing words manage, once again, to ground you and to make you feel appreciated. The burning in your eyes and the tears that threatened to spill recede, and you feel more at ease. 

“I trust you, Law.”

Law smiles, and the music begins to fade in the background. “One more?” He playfully asks, and as you’re about to retort that he’s out of time, he dips you, suddenly and too low. A squeak leaves your lips at the surprise, followed by a heartfelt laugh. When you look into his eyes, he’s grinning. “Three.”

“You’re ridiculous, Law.” You chuckle as he pulls you upright. He looks utterly pleased with himself, smug and cocky. 

“Maybe, but I won.” The song has ended, but you’re still wrapped up in his arms. 

“You did.” A sigh leaves your lips. “Thank you.”

“So you’re feeling better?” His thumb caresses your cheek, his lips inches from yours. You hum in agreement to his question. “Good. My reward?”

You flush deeply, lost in the amber of his eyes. Your stomach twists and coils, and your heart thrums faster than ever. But it’s not an overwhelming, disturbing feeling. It’s freeing, uplifting, and so damn satisfying.

“I love you, Law.” The words seem weightless, a whisper that carries all of your emotion. Law receives them with a soft smile, his eyes shining brightly as he leans even closer, breaths mingling, making your lips tingle, anticipating his kiss. 

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

Tag List:@rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia @rainbow2312 @alexturnersgirl

|Chapter 16|

[amhrosina]

It's Always Been You

Summary: You and Miguel are forced to confront your feelings for one another after a dangerous mission goes awry.

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara (Spider-Man 2099) x fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

masterlist // join my taglist // follow me on instagram & ao3

a/n: i cannot stop thinking about this man ohmygod anyways im overwhelmed by the love being shown for my other miguel fic and cant wait to add more to this community!!! thank you!!! (should i do a part two with smut? like friends to lovers first time?? lemme know <;3)

warnings: friends to lovers, arguing, some angst, love confessions!!!!!, reader calls miguel a name, idiots in love tbh, references to a dangerous situation (but no details i kept it super vague lol), starts to get a little suggestive at the end but is like 99% fluff

Miguel was ignoring you. Not in the usual, self-brooding, grumpy way he sometimes did when he was having a bad day, but in the way that told you he was furious with you. Anger had been radiating off of him in waves since your chaotic return to Nueva York a few hours earlier, and you, along with every other Spider-person at headquarters, was avoiding his workspace like the plague. It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried to console him, but you knew, probably better than anyone, that when Miguel wanted to brood, he would. You would try again later, and eventually you’d make him laugh, and the world would right itself again. It always did.

Spider-Woman huffed, plopping into the seat next to yours in the cafeteria, slamming her tray down hard enough to knock your tablet on its side. Clearly, she was upset about something. 

“Is everyone pissed off today?” You asked indignantly.

She glared at you, shoving a bite of sandwich in her mouth before answering.

“Miguel’s being pissy.” She glared at you. “And it’s your fault.”

“I can’t imagine why. We got the guy, didn’t we?” 

“We both know what you did was reckless.” Her glare intensified, and your annoyance shifted to guilt. It was a reckless move, but it worked. 

“He was being torn to shreds. I did what any of us would’ve done. If he has a problem, he can come talk to me about it instead of hiding from all of us like a teenager.”

Her gaze softened. “He has a lot on his plate.”

“So?” You combatted, annoyed all over again.

“So, I think maybe what happened today scared him, and he doesn’t know how to process his feelings about it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You shrugged, refusing to meet her gaze.

“You’re his best friend, and he almost lost you today. Go talk to him.” She suggested, patting your shoulder. “I think it’ll do everyone some good. And I do mean everyone. He’s scary when he’s mad.”

You shrugged her off, finishing your dinner in silence. If Miguel was so pissed, why couldn’t he come talk to you about it? Why, after years of knowing each other, were you still the one approaching him with an apology? Why couldn’t he just say what he meant for once?

But of course, after you finished your dinner and realized, hopelessly, that the only person you wanted to see was, in fact, Miguel, you huffed and began the trek to his office, where you knew he’d still be brooding.

The tension in the building had lessened after many of the spider-people had returned to their own universes, glad to get away from the uncomfortable elephant in the room, but that didn’t stop your stomach from clenching when you rounded the corner into Miguel’s dim, untidy workspace.

He was hunched over his desk, scribbling something down on a piece of paper. From your position, you had a clear view of the damage that had been done to his back earlier that day. You winced, thinking back to the few seconds of absolute terror you’d experienced when you’d seen the anomaly tearing into Miguel’s skin. The claw marks had already healed a little, now just raw, nasty looking scratches down the curve of his spine. 

He turned at the sound of your footsteps, though he had likely heard you coming since you stepped foot out of the cafeteria. Anger flickered in his cold gaze, but he was still here, decidedly not hiding from you, which was a good sign. You stepped into the workspace, setting the extra food you’d bought for him down before fully turning to face him.

“Hey.” You murmured. “Brought you some dinner.”

His gaze flicked from your awkward stance to the box of food on the table. “Thanks.”

Short. Blunt. To the point. You sighed.

“You’re still mad, then?” You asked, crossing your arms.

“Are you saying I shouldn’t be mad at the stunt you pulled today?” He glared, standing to his full height and towering over you.

“I’m saying you shouldn’t be mad at me for saving your life, asshole.” You looked up at him, refusing to back down.

“I had it under control. It was my anomaly to handle.” His nostrils flared with anger. 

You threw your hands up indignantly. “It was our anomaly to handle, and I handled it just fine! In case you don’t remember, I was good enough at handling myself to be recruited by you for this stupid team!”

“What you did was incredibly stupid. The anomaly could have killed you. Don’t you get that?”

“The anomaly was killing you. I did what I thought was best-”

“Exactly. You did what you thought was best and didn’t think once about the team. You risked an entire universe to show off!” He cut you off, slamming his hands on the desk on either side of you, effectively cornering you.

Your voices had risen considerably since your initial arrival, and you were now inches apart, screaming at each other.

“To show off?” You pushed at his enormous chest, vision blurred with a mixture of tears and anger. “I risked an entire universe to protect you, you asshole! Everything I do is to protect you.”

He grabbed your wrists, easily stopping your arms from pushing him again. 

“You could have died.” He grunted, squeezing your wrists.

“Why do you even care, Miguel? The anomaly was taken care of, just like it always is. We’ll go take care of another one tomorrow, just like we always do.”

“Because I love you, obviously!” He yelled, releasing his grip on you and taking a full step backwards. Stunned into silence, neither of you said anything for a full ten seconds. He began pacing in front of you, hands on his hips, breathing heavily as the magnitude of what he’d just revealed fully hit him. He paused when he heard you sniffle, and began speaking.

“I love you. Can’t you see that?” He asked, stepping close to you. Tears welled in your eyes, and you couldn’t bear to look up at him for fear that it might be a dream, or worse, a cruel trick of his. “I care because I love you, and I almost lost you. I-” he swallowed thickly, “I almost lost it when I realized what you were doing. And when we couldn’t find you after? That was the worst thirty seconds of my life.” He shook his head, clearing the thoughts from his mind. “I can’t lose you. Do you understand that? You’re mine. I can’t lose you, baby.”

You finally lifted your chin, meeting his gaze. He tentatively cradled your cheeks, wiping away the stray tears that had snuck down your face during his speech. 

“I love you, too.” You murmured, nuzzling into his palm. “But you can’t expect me to just watch while you’re being torn to shreds. I had to do something.”

He nodded, though it clearly pained him to agree with you about it. “I know. And I know you can handle yourself. I’m sorry for getting so angry, but you have to understand that your safety is the most important thing to me when we go chasing after anomalies. And I know that it should be saving the universes that we’re in, but it’s not. It’s you, and it’s always been you. Don’t ask me to change that. It will always be you.”

You blinked up at him in stunned silence, nodding. You couldn’t remember when your feelings for Miguel had shifted to something beyond friendly, but you’d never before allowed yourself the fantasy of him loving you in return. It was something you’d come to terms with months ago, accepting that you’d never get to hold him the way he deserved to be held. But now he was standing with you, holding you, begging you to understand that all of his anger has been out of pure, unselfish love for you. 

“I won’t ask you to change that.” You conceded, a small grin forming on your face, “As long as you promise to at least try to stay out of harm’s way.”

“I promise, but you know harm seems to seek me out no matter what.” His grin mirrored the one on your face. He shifted his head down, stopping only centimeters away from your lips. “If I asked you to kiss me right now, would you?”

“That depends.” You breathed, heart thundering in your chest. “Are you going to be this dramatic every time I save your ass, O’Hara?”

He chuckled, cradling your head in his massive hands. “Maybe. Yes. Definitely.”

You shrugged, nodding. “Okay.”

“Okay?” He asked, eyes flicking between your gaze and your lips.

“Okay.” You bobbed your head once and then leaned in.

He captured your lips in an earth-shattering kiss, exploring every inch of what you offered to him eagerly. His hands roamed the length of your body, pulling you fully against his heated skin. You melted into him, pliable to his every whim and desire, going exactly where he wanted you to go, doing exactly what he wanted you to do. Heat coiled in your entire body, poised to erupt at the slightest touch he offered. You reached forward, tugging at the material around his waist. If he wasn’t inside of you soon, you thought you might explode. His hands wandered below your waistband, too, eager to please.

A loud clunking sound from around the corner had you springing apart, panting, overheated, and completely high off one another’s touch. It wasn’t that you were embarrassed to be seen kissing Miguel. In fact, you were planning on kissing him at every moment possible, if he’d let you. It was the fact that you’d very nearly allowed him to strip you naked and have his way with you in his very public office. He seemed to be thinking the same thing, coming to his senses and adjusting the uncomfortable looking bulge in his pants as the sound of footsteps grew nearer.

“Miguel, you’re going to be in an even worse mood if you don’t just go talk to her. I mean, really, you’re both acting like idiots and clearly love each oth- oh!”

Spider-Woman came into view, waving her hands frantically and then doing her very best to hide the smile growing on her face. You shifted your feet awkwardly, trying your best to look like you hadn’t had Miguel’s tongue shoved down your throat ten seconds earlier. Miguel, as stoic and unperturbed as ever, had simply bent down and returned to scribbling on the paper from earlier, which made you involuntarily scowl. He always looked so cool. It was annoying.

“Am I…interrupting something?” Spider-Woman asked, smirking. Clearly, you weren’t doing a great job hiding anything from her. 

“What was that you were saying when you came in? Something about my mood?” Miguel asked, lifting his gaze to hers.

“Oh, nothing!” She grinned, turning on her heels and leaving the room as fast as she had entered it.

Miguel looked at you, suddenly shy now that you were alone together again. “Wanna bet how long it’ll be before she spills the beans to someone about us?”

You barked a laugh. “I’ll give you my entire paycheck if she hasn’t announced it to someone already.” 

Tag List:

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[dyk3tastic]

missed me

victoria neuman (the boys) x reader

genre: smut (with feelings), nsfw

summary: you and victoria reunite in your kitchen, seeking escape and comfort In each other. can be read as a follow up to my other fics, can’t have both (part 1) and friends (part 2), or as a stand alone.

warnings: smut, language, weapon

a/n: many thoughts,,, head full😵‍💫. thanks for all the love on my other fics v appreciated. hope u horny milf lover pervs enjoy (the call is coming from inside the house).

touching her again after what felt like a lifetime of distance burst something inside you like a dam. need flooded you like she was everywhere; her warm hands gripping slightly too hard on your skin, teeth sharp against your neck, tongue soothing bite marks. she was in your head, consuming your every thought, any memory of betrayal or brutality erased by your longing. neither of you had spoke since she kissed you, wanting to remain in the liminal zone of closeness and falsehood together for as long as possible, pretending like nothing had ever gone wrong. the kitchen counter dug into your back as she kissed you fervently, the sound of both your heavy pants filling the room. you kissed along her gentle neckline, pride rushing through you at the whiny high pitched noise she lets out as you nip that spot where her shoulder meets her neck. upset by the loss of her wandering hands you look down to see her fumbling out of her jeans, discarding them on the floor alongside her jumper and your glock.

flipping your positions your hands grabbed her ass, down the back of her supple thighs as she hopped into your arms, allowing herself to be placed on top of the counter. pulling you in between her legs by the waistband of your underwear, you could feel the heat radiating from her centre. your kisses were wet and slow, her hands lightly scratching their way beneath your vest, up your stomach. stopping beneath your chest, her fingers tickled the skin there.

“d’you still want me baby?” she breathed out, small unsure smile tugging at her shining lips, a million questions at once. nodding you tugged her by her shirt down towards you, but she wouldn’t kiss you, eyes poercing into yours, waiting for an answer. you wondered if she was making fun of you, just wanting the satisfaction of hearing your incessant want for her; how could she possibly not know that despite it all, your answer was always yes?

a moment of stillness as you cupped her face, fingers tracing its contours. you see nadia in her eyes, wishing you could save her. “of course” you simply reply, wholeheartedly the truth, “everyday”. the expression on her face overwhelmed you as you kissed down her body, dropping to your knees on the hard, cold kitchen floor.

the mere sight of you, gentle eyes gazing up at her was enough to make her let out a soft “fuck”, voice gravelly and dry. legs spread, resting over your shoulders, victoria’s hips bucked hard against your face as you kissed over her clothed core, her underwear soaked. you continued to pepper kisses between her legs as she whined, grabbing your hair to hold you firm, “don’t tease”. you wasted no time pulling off her underwear and covering your face in her wetness. as you sucked her wet clit, lapping at her like she was edible, her thighs clench around your ears, your nose squashing up against her whilst she holds you close by your hair, grinding against your face. you moan against her, noise vibrating through her cunt as you mindlessly grind against your foot, underwear sticking to you, wet. mouth sliding against her you could feel her thighs start to tighten around you head, tension begging to be released building in her body.

a pause in a string of expletives she groans “you’re so fuckin’ good at that”. slightly slurring, her usual collected clarity disappearing she continues, “always so ready to make me feel good”. looking down at your rutting hips with hooded, dark eyes she smiles, a genuine smile that feels like homecoming. her stream of consciousness becoming more desperate and unintelligible by the second. “i love that you could cum just like this, just by making me cum. so generous, hm? so- fuck you’re so-“ her trail of affection is cut off by a silent cry, a quiet wrecked sound of need. she cums around your face, slicking your nose, dripping from your chin. she is beautiful, thick eyebrows furrowed, nose crinkled as a dusky blush covers her cheeks and neck.

its only when u stand to kiss her, guided by her fingers stroking your slack jaw, that you realise your knees are throbbing, bruises already blossoming. “want me to make you cum baby?” she asks soft, fingers playing across your hips, toying beneath the band of your underwear.

“come on vic” you grunt, impatient. she spares you from making you ask nicely, from getting you to beg, desperate to touch you and cautious not to push her luck. her long slender fingers find your clit, grinning at your wetness.

“when you opened the door in nothing but that top and this silly underwear this was the first thing i thought about” she smiles. circling your clit she uses her free hand to lift your vest, mouth sucking over you nipple. your ceaseless moans embarrassed you. “don’t be shy” she breathed cool over your wet nipple. “let me know you’ve missed me. please” she swallowed. you were completely malleable under her words and touch, chasing your own pleasure to show her your affection, your devotion.

you languidly rolled your hips against her hand, head foggy, eyes locked on hers. “i missed you every day vic, all the time.” your words spilled out, mixed with aching breaths. “hated myself for how much i missed you, missed your face, n’ your laugh. missed your lips, missed talking to you, missed makin’ you cum.” you came hard as she sucked against your neck and muttered a “thank you baby” as she deliberately worked to leave a mark.

[purple-obsidian]

miscommunication (18+, dick grayson x titan reader) wc 2.7-3.1k

⭓ this post contains suggestive themes and is not suitable for minors. reader uses she/her pronouns.

"Shit." You curse under your breath when you see your last two messages failed to send. There's just no signal down here. You sigh, and pocket your phone, mind wandering and trying to predict what mission Dick is taking you on tomorrow night. He usually tells you when its time for full stealth, so you decide you'll show up in civilian clothes. He wants to meet earlier in the evening anyways, so you guess it may be something undercover or staking someone out. You let your mind wander for a bit, before returning your focus to work, watching two men in overalls argue in front of the buildings water heater.

The next day, Dick shows up to your apartment right on time. He pulls up in his electric blue sportscar, sticking out like a sore thumb in this neighborhood. You can't help but grin when you see his car through your living room window. Checking yourself out in your bathroom mirror one last time, you make sure your concealed weapons and headpiece aren't visible, before grabbing your phone, keys, and wallet from your backpack. A sudden knock on the door to your apartment causes your eyebrow raises in suspicion, and you slip your shoes on before answering.

"Dick?" You greet the blue-eyed man standing in your doorway, surprised to see a bouquet of gorgeous white roses in his hands. His hair is styled neatly, and he's clean-shaven, too.

"Hey." He flashes you an excited smile taking in your outfit. "You look great." He comments, his brow furrowing ever so slightly as he looks you up and down, taking in your casual attire.

"Thanks… You didn't have to come up here and get me, though. I was on my way down. Am I under-dressed?" You ask him, noting the button-up shirt and freshly pressed pants he's wearing.

"No, not at all." He extends his arm, presenting you with the roses. "These are for you."

"Oh." Your eyes narrow in confusion, glancing between the roses and his expectant grin. "Thanks… I'm assuming I'll need these later?"

Dick clears his throat and tugs at the collar of his shirt. "Well… I mean… need is a strong word," he replies, chuckling awkwardly, "But you can leave them here, if you like. To enjoy when we get back."

Him saying 'when we get back' makes you think there must be some follow up or additional work to do after you complete your objective.

You grin, and take the flowers from him. "So, does that mean we're pulling an all-nighter?" You turn your back to him and walk towards your kitchen to get a vase for the roses. You just miss the bright pink flush that creeps into Dicks cheeks.

"Uhm… I mean, I didn't want to assume anything, here, but if that's where the evening takes us…” He scratches the back of his neck, and follows to join you in your small but tidy kitchen.

He finds you at your sink, filling a tall jar with water. "Yeah, I got nothing going on tomorrow. We can go all night if we need. I've been in the mood for some action, anyways." You explain casually.

His face grows even more red, suddenly feeling very warm in the shirt he chose to wear. "L-let's just get through dinner first."

---------------//---------------

Your eyes scan the fancy restaurant, taking in the scene, noting all the exits, eyeing the people occupying the tables around you. There's a quiet hum of conversation, laughter, and clinking glasses that fills your ears. You don't notice anything out of the ordinary, but you stay diligent, slightly annoyed that Dick hasn't told you why you're here yet.

A couple to the left of us. Man and woman. Mid-thirties, wedding bands, the woman is on her phone, barely paying attention to her date. We have another couple on our right, two men, could be 50's or 60's, hard to tell. Nice watches. Ordered the salmon…

Dick pokes at his pasta with his fork, a small frown on his lips. He's been acting weird since you got here. But he didn't give you any briefing, which makes you think he must be waiting for someone. He said you would enjoy what he had planned, maybe taking down an old enemy of yours? You wrack your brain, trying to remember the last villain who wronged you.

Dick says your name, snapping you out of your thoughts. "Hm? Yeah?" You ask, looking up at him blankly.

"Are you okay? You don't seem to be enjoying yourself."

The waiter passes by your table, refilling your wine glasses with a polite nod.

"Thanks." You tell him with a brief smile. Your attention returns to Dick, who's blue eyes are trained on your own. "I'm fine, Dick. Honestly? I'm just a little confused about what we're trying to accomplish here. What's our objective?"

"The objective," he sighs, and takes a sip of his wine. "The objective is to enjoy ourselves. Spend quality time together."

You barely hear the words he's saying, thinking instead of how he's already on his second glass of wine. He isn't even fake sipping, like you are. This isn't like him. Dick never drinks while he works, unless he's undercover. But even then he will limit himself, never wanting a mission to go bad because he was inebriated.

"Uh, Dick? Shouldn't we cap if off at one?" You ask, nodding to the glass in his hand. "We need you sharp, don't we?"

His eye's widen a little as he sets his glass down. You find it hard to place the emotions playing across his face. He almost looks offended.

"Sharp… right." He sighs, grabbing his napkin and wiping his mouth, shaking his head a little in disbelief. "You know what? You're something else. I really wanted this to be a chance for us to get better acquainted outside of work. I wanted to get to know you better." He waves down the waiter again, signaling that he's ready for the check. "But it's clear to me now why you even agreed to this."

Now it's your turn to go wide-eyed. "Outside of work? Dick, what are you-"

"I honestly thought you were different. I thought we had chemistry. Real chemistry. Maybe I was wrong. Seems like you're only interested in making sure I can perform later, is that it? An all nighter? You can't even humor me, and enjoy a nice meal together first? You've barely said a word, and you haven't even touched your food."

Realization hits you like a ton of bricks.

Dumb. You are so fucking dumb. This isn't work, this is a date. A real date. No wonder he's dressed so nice. He brought you flowers. Fuck, how could I be so dense?!

"I… Dick, when you texted me yesterday, I thought-"

"Save it." He grumbles, rubbing his temples and avoiding eye contact. "Let’s just get this food to go and forget this ever happened."

You sit up straighter in your seat, and reach across the small table for his hand. "Please, let me explain?"

He looks down at your hand, then narrows his eyes at you. "You're going to tell me I'm wrong?" He challenges.

You aren't used to this. His glare sends chills down your spine. You don't often find yourself at the receiving end of Dick Grayson's anger, but its unsettling every time.

"Y-yes. You're wrong." You curse yourself for stuttering, but your heart is racing now, nervous about how badly this miscommunication could affect your relationship. Your eyes plead with his while your hand rummages around for your phone in your jacket pocket. "I think I misunderstood your texts. Just let me pull them up real quick."

The waiter returns too soon, check in hand. Dick waste's no time laying down a few crisp bills before angrily standing up. "No need. You thought this was just a hookup. I get it. Never mind about getting it to-go. Why don't you stay here, enjoy the rest of your meal alone." He throws down another large bill, slamming it down with his fist right in front of you. "You can take a cab home."

"No! Dick, please!" You stand from your chair, cloth napkin falling to the floor, watching him stalk past you towards the exit of the restaurant, anxiety filling your stomach with dread.

► let him leave.

► follow him.

don’t steal my work. don’t repost it somewhere, upload it to another site, use it to train ai, or claim it as your own.

[pigeonstab]

Okay so!! This is my first time doing creative writing since middle school basically, I did my best and I had fun so, hope you enjoy! (It's under the cut bc I don't want to have it be too long of a post) Also. English is not my first language, (lmao ik) if some sentences are wack it's because I tried to do something cool and it didn't work.

It's about my college AU and I tried to give enough context for it to be understandable even if you haven't looked through the tags but this is meant to be middle of the story kind of stuff so I do recommend that you check it out before reading..

Also @somegrumpynerd

Killer shivered from the cold in the apartment building. 142, Cross’s door number had been hard to find as the 2 had fallen off, leaving only a lighter imprint on the grimy gray walls.

He probably shouldn’t be here, but when else would he get an opportunity like this? The full moon was the only time he could evade Horror’s suffocating sheltering, the others were suspicious, he knew, and with him being out more and more often Nightmare was getting antsy…

He held his breath, finally finding the courage to knock on the door.

He waited a beat but was met with silence, budding worry tightened around his soul, trying the handle he found it slid open easily and with a strange snap, like the lock had been broken and never replaced.

Peering inside the apartment, Killer was shocked to see how cramped Cross’s living space was, a far cry from his own place, and taking his first steps inside he found it was nearly impracticable, the mess he encountered was more akin to rubble than untidiness and testified of an obvious struggle: kitchen appliances and rags strewn around the floor, broken glass, the counters scratched and one of the cupboards ripped off its hinges, these marks an echo of a wild animal’s rampage. This chaos was so unlike Cross, his uneasiness only grew.

Killer carried on with his exploration, turning his attention to the beat up cupboard, it only took a quick glance for him to recognize a small inconspicuous vial, among the cumin, the parsley and the other insignificant spices; there it was, Wolvesbane.

Killer didn’t get the time to dwell on how or why Cross would even own what was essentially Werewolf poison as a loud thud ripped through the heavy silence.

Killer’s non-existent stomach roiled, he left the cupboard behind, now far from his mind as he set to investigate the noise, following the dried blood trail past the torn couch (he did his best to ignore the smell. Now was not the time. Though he could tell it was Cross’s. A fact which worried him as much as it enticed him)

His shoulders were tense as he got close to yet another door, this one already ajar, he pushed it further, the room must’ve been Cross’s bedroom, it was dark and had he not been a vampire he most likely would not have been able to see, the copper smell was only stronger in here.

Killer froze as he spotted the dark mass near the end of the room. Its breathing rocked its hulking form. It had spotted him. Two white reflections pierced through the darkness and in seconds the wolf lunged.

Killer struggled against it as it clawed and snarled at him with a recklessness Killer did not expect from it. The beast had him pinned under its weight and Killer had to seize its jaws. Pushing the snapping and snarling muzzle away from him, his arms burning with the effort, his soul pounding and adrenaline coursing through him. The fight was constant movement. instinct alone permitted Killer to grab a hold of the thing’s maw and force it shut, pressing from top and bottom while it growled and tried to pull away from him. Killer slammed it onto the floor, to which it stilled with a pained whine.

Killer’s chest was heaving, he kept his hands where they were, unsure if the beast would get back up. When it became obvious it wouldn’t his shoulders dropped and he sighed. His eyes roamed the large wolf’s figure, a flannel Killer instantly recognized as Cross’s was still hanging to it, ripped to hell and back but Cross’s. Killer confirmed his suspicion, turning the wolf’s face to find a jagged scar under its right eye.

“Fucking hell Cross. You couldn’t just tell me these thing could you?”

Killer (despite his semi-serious words and lighthearted remark) felt lost. Why hadn’t Cross told him? He banished the thought from his mind. After all he’d never told Cross about his vampirism either. Why would Cross ever tell him about this?

Focusing on Cross he looked him over, his eyes were hazy and unfocused, a purple tint to them that Killer had never seen in them. Well. He’d unpack that later. For now.. “Up we go” Killer picked up the wolf with a grunt of effort, pulling Cross over his arm and heaving the mass of fur over his shoulder, he got to his feet unsteadily, balancing with the extra weight (a lot of extra weight) and started to long trek back home, starting with getting out of the apartment as inconspicuously as he could with a 120 pound Werewolf on his back…

[undiscovered-horizon]

Agnus Dei - Kaz Brekker x Grisha!Reader

[vulgar language, unresolved grief]

SUMMARY: When one of his Crows is revealed to be a Grisha on the run from the Black General, Kaz needs to make a decision: their lives or hers?

WORDCOUNT: ~ 3.2k

[PART 2 RIGHT HERE]

>>Grishaverse-inspired playlist&lt;<

Everything is going according to plan: the guards didn’t change their routes, the vault was where it was supposed to be, the lock combination Inej acquired worked, the necklace and documents were inside. And yet, you can’t help but feel that something is off as though you have forgotten a pair of socks when packing for a trip - a detail small and unimportant, while capable of making a substantial difference. Like an itch you can’t quite scratch.

A tremor shakes the manor down to its foundations. Dust and pebbles fall off the ceiling in an ominous cloud. Overhead crystal chandelier rings as the small gems clatter against one another.

Blyat.

There it is. 

“What was that?” Jesper asks an octave higher than he normally would have.

“The dynamite must have compromised the stability of the building,” Kaz says as his eyes trail the cracks forming along one of the walls. “We need to leave.”

“Are you saying-”

“Crushed to death, Jes,” you cut him off.

“Why can’t you ever give me a nice surprise? It’s always death and injury.”

You cross your arms on your chest. “Do I look like Ded Moroz?”

Jesper gives you a childish, playful smile. “I wish you did.”

“Come on,” Inej impatiently rushes the two of you. “You can biker when we’re out.”

Everyone follows Kaz, who weaves and turns through the palace corridors as though he knows them like the back of his hand. Considering how much time he had spent staring at the blueprints, it might well be true.

The tremors only grow in strength and frequency. The low hum of crumbling foundations is interrupted by the heavy, rushed footsteps of the guards. You are yet to run into them but considering they thunder somewhere above your heads, it’s only a matter of time before you look down the barrels of their muskets.

You jump to the side when a boulder falls next to you, a mere inch from crushing you. The muskets have to wait.

It’s hard to walk straight when the ground is shaking so much. Pieces of the ceiling and upper floors have you weaving and running into whatever hasn’t fallen yet.

“We won’t make it out in time!” you yell over the noise of crushing foundations and an avalanche of rubble coming your way.

“We will!” Kaz yells back. You’re unsure who he’s trying to convince more: himself, you or the decaying building. “Just go!”

“The entire ceiling’s coming down!” Another block of stone falls in your vicinity, throwing dust and ground bricks into the air. The flecks claw at your throat as you cough. Your eyes burn. “We need to find cover!”

Brekker stops. He lifts his head to look at the cracked bricks above the four of you. In the cloud of dust and refracted, dim light, you notice his face losing colour. 

“Hide!” he interposes. Jesper and Inej waste no time curling up underneath tables and fallen shelves.

You’re almost under a desk, sheltered from the rubble about to fall on your head but something stops you from seeking safety - sudden confusion at your own actions. The realization creeps up on you, making you surprised that at some point you really have forgotten that you don’t have to hide from overgrown pebbles and crushed chandeliers; at some point, you have truly believed the lie you’ve been telling everyone for so many years.

Time seems to slow down as you stare at the crumbling ceiling. You don’t breathe, your heart doesn’t beat. Just the rubble above you and the ringing in your ears. Something tingles in your fingertips when you absentmindedly rub them together.

Do it.

Your thoughts float towards the three Crows. Sure, they’re criminals but do they deserve to die for that? Should they perish, so you can take your secret to the grave? Casualties of war they didn’t wage?

Do it.

Perhaps this day was always coming.

Jesper pushes his head further between his knees, awaiting the final blow. But it doesn’t come. Hyperventilating and confused more than ever, he opens his eyes. The floor is covered with dust and pieces of bricks. Maybe he’s already suffered brain damage or maybe those pebbles and shards really were floating an inch above the ground.

“What in-” he whispers to himself.

The dust collecting in his lungs throws him into a coughing fit. He manages to get on his knees and stand up holding the desk he’d been sitting under. Jesper’s eyes meet Kaz and Inej, who appear just as confused at the fact that they’re still alive. Even more - not a stone threatened their well-being.

Inej suddenly gasps, vaguely pointing away from the three of them. The men’s gazes follow her hand right to the tip of her finger and that’s when they see it:

You’re standing a few meters away from their hiding spots, hands lifted over your head as though you were lifting something. Boulders and falling furniture hang mid-air, stopped by a mysterious violet flame pushing them away from the floor. With a small hop to the side, you swing your hands, making the rubble fly across the already-ruined hall. The remnants crush against the wall, breaking into smaller pieces before settling on the ground. Not a wrinkle, not even a bead of sweat runs down your skin when you turn around to look at them with guilt and apology painted all over your face.

Jesper is the first to break the silence of flabbergast:

“What was that?”

Inej stares at you with wide eyes, her lips slightly agape. "You're Kosomova.” It’s a statement, not a question. She seems to still be deciding between awe and disbelief. “The Lost Dynasty of Sankt Mikhail."

"What's dormant is not lost, Inej,” you say while awkwardly rubbing your hand. There’s no point in lying anymore. “It's just hidden."

You feel his stare boring into you but you don’t dare meet his eye. Just like this beautiful manor, the foundation of his trust has crumbled. It’s hard to estimate the damage and the prospect of whether it is possible to raise the palace once more. Perhaps he’s silent for now but you know this knot must be untied; a cast-aside viper always slithers back to bite.

The boulders and furniture you threw at the wall have breached it in a rather impressive manner. You can leave and disappear in the crowd before the guards even get to this part of the building. There is something positive to barely escaping death, after all.

"Mikhail?” Jesper repeats, his eyebrows furrowed. Walking through a gaping hole in the wall, he squints his eyes when daylight hits his face. “As in Mikhail the Unbowed? Didn't the Black General issue a bounty on his whole bloodline?"

"And it keeps growing every year or so,” you say indifferently while dusting the flecks of bricks and stone off your dark clothes. “Honestly, I'm kind of flattered he thinks I'm worth seven figures in Kruge."

People of Ketterdam stop by, look at the palace and then at you, only to shrug and carry on with their daily lives. Something about the malice residing in the air of this city makes everyone aloof to the plight of others. Most of the time you think of this tendency as wretched and heartless but today you can’t be grateful enough. Soon, all four of you are part of the uninterested, grey crowd flooding the cobbled streets. 

“But why?" Jesper coaxes, "What did you do?”

“I control gravity, making me a catalyst for any summoner,” you answer quietly in case someone can hear your conversation.

“Make or break the Fold,” Inej interjects.

“Probably, yeah.”

But his curiosity is not satiated just yet: “He already has the Sun Summoner. What does he want with you?”

Suddenly, you stop walking and Jesper almost runs into you. You look at your friend with a morbid seriousness he has never seen from you before.  “A man as ambitious as him will not stop at the Fold. He could turn the whole world into his own empire with me and the Sun Summoner at his service. Mountains will bow before him, oceans will separate so he can pass. No one should have that power.” Your gaze lowers, too ashamed to meet any of the faces staring hard at you. “Make arrangements to flee Ketterdam,” you interpose before taking a few steps backwards. A turn, a rushed step, a rounded corner and suddenly you’re gone as though you were never there.

The stairs creak under someone’s weight. Irregular footsteps grow steadily louder until you hear a soft whine of the hinges as the guest pushes your door open. 

"You're leaving."

Hearing Kaz’s voice makes you stop in your tracks for a second, hands filled with clothes and trinkets hover right above the bag. A sting in your chest, that you wave away; you can’t get hung up on your feelings, not now. Not when they inevitably lead to tears.

"Once the news travels across the Fold, the Black General will be here in no time,” you say without looking at him. With a newfound will to get away as quickly as you can, you continue packing up a lot faster than you did before. “Promise me that you will do everything to survive that. Sell me out, I don't care. Just promise me you will be fine."

"When were you going to tell me, Kosomova?"

Surprised, you drop the utility belt you were about to toss on top of the heap of clothes already in the bag. The hint of angry disappointment, a bitter betrayal, in his voice makes your heart break.

You give him a quick glance, only to pick up the belt and resume packing as though you’re absolutely fine with this strange situation.

"Please, don't call me that, Kaz.” No matter how unbothered you want to seem, he’s a bit too observant not to notice the pleading tone hiding between words.

"It’s your name."

You let out a sigh. Standing up and straightening your back, you finally dare to divert most of your attention to him. Face-to-face, as befits something between companions and colleagues.

"I haven't been Kosomova in over a decade. The life I lead and the people I'm grateful to love, I've done all of this as Zavrazhny. So that is my name.” Your eyes escape his face for a moment when you feel embarrassed at your own naivety. “And I wasn't going to tell you. Ever.” Awkwardly rubbing your arm, you look at him once more. To your own horror, his expression doesn’t falter, stuck in this indifferent frown he wears most of the time. What is he thinking about? “It was stupid of me to think I could actually escape my ancestry but a girl can dream."

Too ashamed to look at his face any longer, your gaze falls to the floor. Maybe this day was always coming. 

You fasten the bag and throw it over your shoulder. It’s grown heavy since the last time, pulling you down with the weight of both your useless souvenirs and the memories they hold. Some of them you can probably sell for a nice price, earning you a night of rest on something better than a haystack.

When you’re about to walk past Kaz and out of your room, surely to disappear from Ketterdam and resurface on the other side of the world with a new name and backstory, he suddenly lifts his cane in front of you. Frustrated, you look at the symbolic blockade and only then at him.

Turning his head to the side to look at you, his gaze appears even angrier than before. "You are not going anywhere,” Kaz nearly grits through his teeth.

Why won’t he just let you go?

Your voice is equally low when you answer him. "This isn't the bloody time to play broody and bossy, Kaz. I'm endangering the entirety of Ketterdam with my presence, I'm-...” you stop yourself from finishing the sentence, wondering if you really want to float along this wave of honesty. He slightly lifts his eyebrows, egging you to continue. Your voice is suddenly very quiet, as though you’re afraid someone else might hear you too. “I'm putting you at risk. And I can't have that."

"Have you any idea how much I have invested in you?" The stress he puts on the word is odd as though there is a hidden meaning behind it - one he can’t quite make himself say outright. You feel your chest tighten at the realization. It’s not a monetary value he’s speaking of. No, it’s something he’s too afraid to name correctly even inside his own head. "You're staying here, even if I have to make you."

You shake your head. "I don't want everyone sticking out their necks for me. It's not worth dying for. I'm not worth dying for. Save yourself, Kaz. This is not your fight."

"If it’s you the Black General is after, it is my fight."

His intense gaze makes you break out a flustered smile. "You have a very strange way of saying you care about me, you know?"

Reprieving your decision to flee, you toss the bag back on your bed. Kaz follows your movements with a questioning look on his face as you drop onto the chair by your working table. He thinks the scattered papers on your desk and notes pinned to the wall are very befitting - mind working faster than a steam train, albeit slightly chaotic.

For a moment you’re not saying anything. Slouched and with a vacant look in your eyes, your whole persona just screams defeat. None of the three Crows has seen you like this before, making you realize that this unusual demeanour is going to change a lot on its own. Once shown vulnerability can never be taken back, for the better or worse.

"I’ve never told you how I got here in the first place, have I?" you ask. Kaz catches your gaze once more, only to realise something about it has changed. The fire that once resided inside you is nowhere to be found, its place taken by something chilling and haunting. "Around a decade ago, the Black General caught wind of my family. We knew he was coming. One day, my mother packed all of my belongings and told me to leave. I won't ever forget that look on her face - the anger, the shame, the guilt…” Unknowingly, you raise your eyebrows and shake your head slightly. As grief’s fangs gnaw at you, her face appears before your eyes like a mirage; someone’s reflection on the surface of disturbed waters. “She grabbed my shoulders and said 'Forget your pedigree. You have to go out there, see the world, live how you want and be who you want. This family has suffered enough.' So I did. I didn't hear from her ever again. When I was boarding a ship from Novokribirsk to Ketterdam, I overheard the sailors talking about a slaughtered village in the woods. And I knew…” You take in a ragged breath, feeling emotions flooding your head. Even after a decade, this wound hurts just the same. “I knew I couldn't go back. There was nothing to go back to, so I moved forward. It was the only direction left."

It’s too late. You can’t stop it. Tears sting your eyes and you look away from Kaz, grasping at the serious and professional demeanour you’re so desperate to keep. Alas, it has escaped your shaky hands.

A sob violently shakes your body. You have to cover your mouth with your hand to stop the sounds of agony from reaching his ears.

“She died alone, Kaz,” you whisper in a weak voice. Anguish clenches your throat, making you unable to breathe for a moment. Tears stream down your face, salty taste on your tongue. “Rotting in the middle of the woods because there was no one to bury her. Abandoned.”

“If you were there, you would have died, too.” His tone is strangely gentle but you don’t notice it at the moment.

He grips his cane tighter when you look at him with red, glossy eyes. “You can’t know that.”

“Then the Black General would kill your mother just to get to you.”

“Maybe he’d spare her if I agreed to go with him. Or I would have killed him.” You take in a deep although ragged breath, trying to calm yourself down. Kaz wishes he could do something. With the sleeve of your coat, you wipe your face. “She died because I ran, didn’t she? So, maybe if I stay… Maybe I have a chance at redemption.”

“Her death wasn’t your fault.”

Your eyes snap back to his face. They’re still red but not sad anymore. No, something strange clouds them, something Kaz sees only when he looks in the mirror. “But yours will be if I don’t get my shit together. I can’t just keep running. It’s not who I want to be.”

“If you kill General Kirigan you will be running for the rest of your life.”

“I’ll be doing it anyway. Might as well earn the right to the name Kosomova.”

Suddenly, you rummage through the plethora of pockets you have in your layers of clothing. Something gold glints between your fingers but it’s so quick he can’t even begin to guess what you’re holding in your palm when you offer it to him.

“Kaz, I want you to have something. Just in case anything happens to me.”

You open your hand to reveal an antique pocket watch. It looks worn out, a thin layer of verdigris discolouring the keepsake. Golden coating lost its shine and the decorative engravings are nearly completely smoothed out as though someone had been rubbing its surface. For good luck, perhaps. Although barely visible, three cursive letters on the front are still legible: K. M. V. 

Kosomov Mikhail Victorovich

Kaz takes the pocket watch, for a moment examining your face in detail. Do you not expect to survive the Black General? Or perhaps this is a token of your trust if not affection? 

He gently presses the button on top of the watch and the lid pops open. On the right side is the face of a clock but the hands aren’t moving. Judging by the engraving on the front, the watch has to be several centuries old, making it impossible to say when exactly the mechanism has given out. His gaze follows to the other side of the keepsake, where a message was crudely carved out with something sharp: Я ранен был, но не упал.

“I was wounded but didn’t fall,” you quote. “It’s a family motto.”

Kaz closes the watch with a loud clasp. His gaze returns to you and for a moment you think there’s a shadow of dread dancing across his irises. Then his face turns nearly into a scowl. What fine smithing it really is, to reforge affection into anger.

“Make sure you stick to it,” he orders while stuffing the keepsake in his pocket. “We need a plan.”

“How much time do you think we have?”

“A week at most.”

A half-smile crooks your lips. “Then let’s make it count.”

______

Yes, there will be part 2.

[wallflowerwritesstuff]

You Chose: Rafayel

border credit goes to cafekitsune here on tumblr 🖤

Getting home had been surprisingly tame, the night passing without much issue. 

The morning, however, was the polar opposite, the pain causing you to remain in the same position despite how uncomfortable it had become. You powered up your phone, having allowed it to die last night after your shower without realizing. 

Then came the messages. 

Ding. 

Ding. 

Ding, Ding Di—

You snatch the phone from your bedside table with a whimper, finding that anger wasn’t appropriate when you could barely move. 

So, slowly, you unlock your phone and peer at your texts, responding to each in order until you get to the most recent from a contact that makes you snicker inwardly. 

-0-0-0-

hey

hey

hey 

hellllllloooooo? you aren’t ignoring my texts now are you miss bodyguard? 

have a good night. we can talk in the morning. 

its morning you know. i’ll come over if you keep ignoring me. i mean it!

alright. bet.

-0-0-0-

It only takes your read receipt popping up before you receive an incoming call from Catastrosea, your head rolling as you move onto your back. Rafayel’s voice comes through immediately, beginning with a soft gasp and click of his tongue. 

Ever the dramatic one. 

“At least you had the decency to pick my call up since you’ve been avoiding my texts,” he says, sounding offended, a small chuckle following the words. “Just kidding, I know you Hunters are always off being good samaritans or whatever. But you are still my bodyguard, you know. How am I meant to go to events without my trusty protector making sure little ol’ me is safe?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” you mumble, shutting your eyes again and breathing through the ache building in your temples. “Sorry.” 

Rafayel pauses on the other line. “Woah, you sound….” 

You can hear the ‘awful’ wanting to roll off his tongue, but instead, the sound of rustling is heard along with a soft ‘ow~’ and something falling. You perk up, on high alert until he mumbles about stepping on supplies, a small smile forming on your lips. 

You weren’t the only klutz, apparently. 

“You alright?” you whisper, earning a huff from the line. 

“Are you sure you’re in a position to ask me that? I nearly thought someone stole your phone with how you sound right now,” he says as you frown. 

“In bed,” you respond, not adding the and that’s where I’ll be for the next 3-5 business days for the sake of sparing him concern. 

“What a surprise for someone as active as yourself. Not feeling well?”

You hesitate to answer, the slight rustling sound seeming to remain constant as you chewed on your lower lip. “...just wanted a change of routine, I guess.” 

“Right,” he answered, not believing you for a second but not arguing. “On a scale from cat scratch to completely bodied, what state are you in right now?” 

You laugh, but then you suck in a breath and curl into yourself. “Guess.”

“Completely bodied from that pitiful little whimper of yours. I gotcha,” he says too calmly, and you wonder if he regrets calling right now. He had probably been having a rather decent afternoon considering how jovial he’d sounded, but now he was awfully quiet on the other line. His mood had to have soured, but you had a hard time imagining he cared so much about your life to have it affect his own. 

It was nice to imagine, at least.

Someone was knocking on your door like they wanted to tear it down. You hear a voice as you get closer, yawning as you tap on your door to see a screen pop up, revealing exactly who you thought it’d be, though he seemed to have brought company.

“Don’t scratch me or so help me, you little terror—!”

Your eyes light up as you open the door to meet a familiar pair of eyes. 

Rafayel, with a cat in hand, pauses the moment he sees you. There is a flash of something you don’t quite recognize coming from him, but then he sniffs and tilts his head. 

“Woof. You look even worse than you sound. It’s a great thing I’m here. I have a fantastic bedside manner.” 

You lean against the doorway, managing a small smile despite your vision feeling like it was beginning to double. “Really? Because most professionals wouldn’t bark at their patients and say they look awful,” you reply, the cat jumping out of his arms to circle your ankles, purring gently. You feel your spirits lift ever so slightly, leaning down slowly as the cat sniffs your hand before shoving their head beneath it as if asking for your touch. “Just a bit of advice from someone with actual bedside manner.” 

Rafayel brought a hand up to his chin, staring up at the ceiling before nodding once. “Hm, advice accepted, but as for that second part, I’d like to think someone with a bedside manner would know better than to bring me a singular apple when I end up hospitalized,” he sighs, staring down with a mischievous glint. 

“It was the last and best apple!” you defend, feeling a bit of spirit return at the fact you had to constantly defend your poor apple—especially considering he had still eaten it! 

“Yes, yes, I thank it for its sacrifice,” he brushes off with the wave of a hand, leaning down to match your level. “You seem more happy to see the walking weapon than you do me. How rude,” he mumbles into his knees as you snort. 

“Haven’t you ever heard of therapy dogs? Well, cats have the same effect,” you insist.

He follows you when you attempt to stand, reaching out when you stumble with a small wince. Your lip stings when you come to, the realization you have sunken your teeth into it making him tense. 

“‘M fine,” you murmur, but when you turn and nearly trip over your own feet, you hear him whisper something under his breath before feeling something warm against your back. “When did you…?” you ask in confusion, brow furrowing before smoothening out when the small action caused a sharp pain to shoot across from one temple to the other. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Rafayel mimics from your earlier conversation, voice right beside your ear. The frown on his lips deepens as he looks around your apartment, searching. “Looks like I came at just the right time, miss bodyguard. I’m going to lift you, so brace yourself.”

Surprisingly, he actually gives you time to do so, and so you turn enough to grip the front of his shirt as the world goes blurry again despite his slow speed. 

Maybe that head injury of yours was worse than you thought. You had been cleared and even waited to sleep as you were told, but a check-up may not be the worst idea. You did tell yourself you would go to the hospital if anything got worse. 

A hand touches your forehead, and it’s then you realize you are lying on your couch, Rafayel sitting on the floor beside you with an unreadable expression. It felt familiar in a way, though when he caught you staring, he smiled and tilted his head. 

“Admiring me only when you have a head injury? Should I be offended?” 

“You should be quiet,” you say, lacking the heat that would have made such a demand an insult. 

“Oh? I could always leave, but the terror would have to come with me,” he points out, moving to stand as you shoot up to grab him, whimpering as your head and body form an alliance to try and send you back into blissful unconsciousness. 

“Gosh, no need to hurt yourself over a joke. I wouldn’t take them with me,” he teases, but his smile has become somewhat forced as he helps you return to your previous position. You want to say that you would want them both to stay, but the words jumble in your brain as he speaks again. “Stay here, will you? I have the feeling you won’t be conscious long if you keep moving so suddenly like that.” 

The rest of the day is somewhat of a blur, you coming to in the early evening when the medicine finally kicks in. You open your eyes, your sight still dark until you remove the damp towel from your face. There is a soft purring on your belly, your hand moving to pet the sleeping cat gently. The lights are all off, and Rafayel sitting on the floor where you’d seen him earlier. He had some pieces of paper in front of him, a pencil tucked behind his ear as he pursed his lips. 

Not wanting to disturb him, you watch quietly, every scratch of charcoal against paper paired with the soft rumbles of the cat’s snores managing to lull you back to sleep. 

Before you could sink completely, you whisper a small thank you, not seeing the expression on Rafayel’s face grow conflicted, a mixture of frustration and concern unable to be hidden behind jokes and smiles. 

“I don’t want your thanks, I want you to be more careful,” he mutters, the words falling on deaf ears, floating into the air before fading entirely. 

When you wake, it’s the next morning and there’s a note on your coffee table along with a cute cartoon sketch of Rafayel crying and holding his hand while the orange cat licks his paw. 

Thomas threw a fit about me disappearing. We'll be back. I won't make you wait. Promise.

-R

Want to explore some of the other routes?

Click here to return to the main post for a refresher.

Or, pick your other favorite love interest below:

Xavier

Zayne

Rafayel

Sylus

[thecampjuicebox]

Glorious Suffering

Pairing: Abdirak x Tav(f) x Astarion

Rating: 18+ NSFW, Minors DNI

POV: 2nd person

Warnings: SMUT, sadomasochism, use of objects for hitting, blood, bruising, biting, voyeurism/exhibitionism, orgasm denial, oral, fingering, p in v penetration, minor game spoilers

Trying out a new writing format to put better emphasis on dialogue. Let me know what you guys think!

The stench of blood and unwashed bodies lingers in the air like a thick blanket. It stings in your nostrils - singes the hairs with gut churning ferocity. Putrid. It makes your eyes water. Your stomach turns and bubbles as your breakfast threatens to make a second appearance. The once grand Selunite Outpost has since crumbled to near ruins, the occupation of goblins tainting its beauty and grace in a matter of days. Filthy pests, they are. You turn your head up, eyes watering from the scent as you climb the stone stairs toward a hallway of small rooms. Your group follows close behind reluctantly.

"This place is disgusting." Astarion whines, tip-toeing around small piles of bones and viscera.

Cautious eyes peek around corners. The first room is brightly lit with candles and lanterns, a young man strapped by the wrists and ankles to some sort of torture device. Two goblins swing maces and whips in his direction, shouting obscenities and asking for information. Information the man clearly doesn't seem to have.

"Pathetic. All of them." Shadowheart huffs, turning her nose up at the display with obvious disdain for what she's seen.

"They can't even properly swing a mace to cause actual damage. Lady Shar would be displeased."

Astarion grins at the sight. Excited fingers crawl against the stone brick wall to take hold of it as he leans into the doorway, his tongue flicking out to wet his bottom lip and trace the sharp points of his fangs.

"Let's stay and watch." The spawn's flirtatious nature can be so insufferable sometimes.

"Astarion, come. We have other business to attend to." Your voice is sharp and stern, seemingly the only way the elf will listen to you.

"You're such a bore." He groans, pulling away from the wall and hooking his index finger into the back of your leathers, giving them a playful tug toward him as he presses close to your behind and mumbles into your pointed ear.

"Doesn't that device look like such fun? We should give it a try once the little green ones have no more use for it."

Your cheeks burn crimson and a disengaging elbow flies out from behind you, connecting with Astarion's abdomen hard enough to force him to let go of your leathers.

"Not now, you tease." With a cough, he puts some distance between the two of you - an insidious grin lingers on his lips.

The second room draws closer and the quiet mumble of a man inside makes your ears perk up. His voice is strained, the occasional sounds of mace to skin ringing through the hall. He cries out, and every hair on your body stands on end. Astarion rounds the corner first, stumbling upon a man with medium build, knelt down in front of one of the rear walls of the room. He stands and turns to your group slowly, eyes falling on you first. His gaze is almost.. Comforting. Silver eyes pierce through you like the sharpest dagger. It nearly knocks the breath straight from your lungs. His chest and abdomen are alarmingly bloodied and bruised, little cuts and scratch marks speckling his skin. Astarion clears his throat once he notices your eyes locked on one another and the human offers a kind smile.

"Greetings, child. I've met few aside from Goblins here. Are you also here to assist with the prisoner?" He questions, motioning toward the room just next door.

You shake your head slowly, averting your gaze to the floor for a moment. Warmth swirls in your belly. He's incredibly handsome, the salt tones in his blonde hair showing his age. His voice is low and raspy and it sends shivers up and down your spine when he speaks - like sweet red wine to your ears. Delicious and intoxicating. His face contorts into a grimace as he crosses his arms over his chest and rests his weight on one foot.

"Hm. While I was thrilled to be invited here, I must confess I find the goblins and their methods.. Crude and primitive." He leans forward at his last word, eyes narrowing toward you. "Pain without purpose is a terrible thing. Wouldn't you agree?"

Your cheeks involuntarily flush that deep shade of crimson that clearly gives you away. He awakens something within you. You'd recognize his garb from miles away. A follower of Loviatar, the Maiden of Pain. The things this man has probably seen. The things he's done. It excites you in a way that's almost embarrassing. A familiar ache pings in your core and you can't help but cross your legs, squeezing your thighs together tightly to dull the desperation. The inherent need. The human before you certainly notices and takes a step closer, inhaling slowly before he speaks. He's toying with you now. He must be. Astarion can smell the growing eagerness in your blood, hear the way your pulse quickens, life force pumping into different parts of you now. He smirks and keeps quiet, but gods, is he painfully aware.

"Forgive me -" The man interjects, pointing directly at you now. You gulp. "but that look in your eyes. Something terrible has happened to you."

You cross your arms over your breasts, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. "Clever man. How did you know?"

"Because I see those same eyes when I look in the mirror.. Dear one." His hand reaches out to caress your soft cheek and goosebumps raise by the millions on your skin. "We've all suffered in these.. Dark times. It is little wonder you bear scars of pain and anguish. Please. Let me.. Alleviate this pain."

"What exactly would this entail?" Astarion's voice cuts through your thoughts and your eyes shift to him in disbelief.

"Well, the Maiden of Pain, Loviatar, teaches us that pain is a most powerful and sacred sensation. And, should our pain delight her, she will grant her most sacred of blessings." His hands clench into excited fists in front of him. "If you would permit it, I could show you first hand."

A knot forms in your stomach, twisting and tangling, his words sending jolts of arousal and excitement throughout your entire body like bolts of lightning. This experience would be new, however. The idea of such an act being performed in front of your newly acquired companions, and the man you'd started to have feelings for, makes your brain fuzzy. Gods, they'd for sure say no. Maybe even leave you to find a cure for the wriggling parasite behind your eyes by yourself.

"Sounds like a wonderful show. She accepts." Astarion beams, his eyes fixed on you, scanning up and down as your heartbeat quickens further. "As long as we can stay and watch."

"Surely Shadowheart has some reservations about watching, right?" You ask with an air of desperation that's almost laughable.

She grins and places her hands on her hips, quirking an eyebrow at you. "Lady Shar would frown upon me if I were to miss something as deliciously torturous as this. Go on."

"Oh, I have something exquisite in mind." He rubs his hands together, a devilish grin smeared across his lips. It makes your core ache even more. "Disrobe, face the wall, and we can begin. And by the way.. You may call me Abdirak."

Disrobe? Gods, this was not on your list of things to do today. Kill some goblins? Sure. Save a wildshaped druid from death? Easy. This? This may be the most difficult thing you've ever done. Astarion waves a hand toward you, motioning for you to obey the Servant of Loviatar. Your confidence wavers for a moment. Not only are you about to willingly endure what is essentially torture, now you must do it.. Naked. You gulp and set your backpack down at your feet. First goes your boots, next your leather harness, your head turning to look at Astarion who is enamored by the sight of you slowly undressing, his back pressed against the cold stone wall. Another gulp. How embarrassing.. Shadowheart snickers quietly at your obvious discomfort. Trembling fingers struggle with the laces of your tunic and in a bout of frustration, you quickly tug it over your head. The white linen falls to the floor at your feet, your perky breasts bouncing ever so slightly from the rushed movements. A quiet sigh emits from Abdirak and he quickly looks to his table of various weapons, hand hovering over the selection.

You finally tug your leathers down past your knees, kicking them to the side with reckless abandon just to get it over with. Your lack of underwear earns a barely audible groan from both Astarion and Abdirak alike. Naked and exposed, you shiver, hands resting at your sides.

"Well, go on, darling. Don't be shy."

Astarion's words give you the final push to step forward. You face the wall as instructed and chew at your bottom lip as the human lifts a mace into his hands, turning it over to inspect its condition. A quiet "Yes.. This will do nicely." stoking your fire as you wait. Abdirak approaches you from behind, reaching down to guide your hands toward the wall, foot kicking between your ankles to spread your legs apart. The cold metal of his mace traces along your spine and you shudder, teeth chattering at its frosty bite. You wait with baited breath. Brace for the imminent kiss of pain. Abdirak rears back and lands a blow to your back hard enough to knock an involuntary yelp from your throat. Astarion chews the tip of his thumb, his right hand lowering to the front of his leathers to palm at his growing erection. The half elf stood close beside him eyes him carefully, and then you, arms crossing over her chest now, completely unamused.

"The pain you suffer will cleanse you. Do not fight it."

A loud sob follows Abdirak's words as you process the pain, blood trickling from a new gash on your skin. You beg for mercy, plead for the pain to stop, your knees nearly buckling beneath you. But this is only the first blow, there is so much more to come. Somewhere deep down inside, you're enjoying this. Your companions watching as you stand there, completely vulnerable, bloodied and bruised. Open to the elements and whomever wanted a taste. The human licks his lips.

"Your voice sounds so sweet, dear one. Keep going."

"Don't wear her out entirely, priest. We may have use for her yet." Shadowheart grins, eyes narrowing on your trembling frame.

Her mocking tone and underlying breathiness strikes an interesting chord with you. Exciting. Stimulating. Blood pumps in your ears - a deafening drum beat that only you can hear. You sway your hips to the rhythm and Astarion chews at his bottom lip, ready to pounce. Hunger burns in his stomach. Emptiness. Even though he'd fed on you just hours before, his mouth salivates like he's positively starved. He intends to devour you in one way or another.

Your tormentor rears back to land another blow, this time to your ass, and it nearly knocks you forward into the wall. You grit your teeth and stifle a scream and Astarion groans at your strained noises. He's enjoying this almost as much as you are, you're just much better at hiding it. Arousal soaks your folds. Your walls flutter around nothing and you chew your bottom lip to stifle a moan as Abdirak lands a third blow against your thigh. Nails dig into the stone bricks, almost bloodying your fingers. Gods, you want more. Need more. Abdirak takes a step back to admire his work, rubbing the tip of the mace up your inner thigh, dangerously close to your cunt. You whimper and he quirks an eyebrow. In a sudden change of mind, he swaps the mace for a paddle, little circles cut from the wood to increase the sensations. A quick smack earns a loud cry from your lips.

"That's it, dear one! Let Loviatar hear you!"

"Not the worst technique, priest. Good wrist movement. Lots of.. Enthusiasm." Shadowheart interjects again plainly.

Astarion continues to palm at his cock as he watches, eyes fixed solely on you. The way your blood bubbles up and trickles over your flesh. The scent of your arousal. It's the sweetest perfume and he can hardly control himself.

"You're being so good for him, darling. Keep going."

The vampire spawn's voice is breathy and low. You moan just from his words and Abdirak lands another smack to your opposite ass cheek, a large red print immediately surfacing and swelling on your skin. "Fuck!" You cry loudly. Tears sting in the corners of your eyes. The human grins and sets the paddle down, moving behind you to trace his fingers over each bruise, cut, and mark he'd left. Little trophies of devotion. His goddess will be pleased. You shiver at the contact of his fingers.

"Sweet child.. You bore the pain like a true believer. I am proud to have served you this penance."

"Th-Thank you.." You muster quietly, bottom lip still trembling at the threat of tears. "I enjoyed myself."

Abdirak tilts his head back and sighs heavily, one hand reaching down to trace over your bruises once more. His cock throbs beneath his garb and he presses a free hand into it, groaning at the friction.

"As did I, dear one. Loviatar herself found your performance.. inspiring."

He grins and steps to your side, leaning close to your ear. His breath is warm and smells of a metal. More goosebumps speckle your skin as he presses his lips to your pointed ear and whispers quietly.

"And on a personal note.. Thank you. That was positively divine. This doesn't have to be the end, however. You've proven yourself perfectly capable of accepting such exquisite pleasure. I'd love to show you so much more."

"She'd love that. May I assist?" Astarion murmurs, approaching the two of you with confidence.

Normally you'd be incredibly irritated by the vampire spawn speaking for you, but now, Gods you couldn't be more grateful. A cold hand cups your cunt suddenly and you jolt at the sensation, back arching forward as Astarion's middle finger presses just barely into your folds and against your clit.

"Mm. She's so wet for us."

Sharp teeth just barely pierce your shoulder, a sensation you've become all too used to ever since you discovered the pale elf's affliction. You'd let him feed on you when it was needed, and sometimes purely because you enjoyed how he'd hold you close to him. How he'd savor your taste and lick your skin clean. His sweet words of encouragement as he'd bite into another place. And the way he'd talk you through the dizziness once he was finished. Your brain whirs with arousal as Astarion coos quietly against your skin and presses little kisses to the now bleeding spot. He drags his fangs over your flesh with torturous slowness, exhaling heavily at the salty taste of your sweat and blood combined. The finger pressed to your clit begins moving in circles and you nearly fall apart right there. Your legs tremble. Toes curl against the stone beneath your feet. Abdirak picks up the paddle once more and eyes Astarion. They exchange a glance of approval and the paddle makes fiery contact with your skin once more, over the same swollen spot it had assaulted before.

A mix of pain and pleasure courses through every vein in your body and your vision goes white. You could cum at any moment. Another smack. And another. And another. Astarion lowers his hand from your cunt, landing a smack of his own against your folds and your knees nearly give out at the force.

"Gods, please.." you whimper loudly, head falling between your shoulders.

"Yes, beg for it, dear one. You're doing so well for us."

"What a good girl you are, darling."

Their combined praises is enough to push you over the edge, but you hold on tightly. You can't cum. Not yet. Astarion's fingers circle around your slick soaked slit, playing with the clear sticky fluid for a moment. One digit slides inside first and you whine loudly, hips pushing back against him.

"M-more.." you beg.

A second finger slides inside and stretches your entrance ever so slightly, the cold digits pressing firmly into that spongey spot that could stop your heart.

"More!" You cry, and both men behind you grin at your desperation.

Abdirak slides his index finger into his mouth to soak it with his spit before lowering it between your thighs, forcing it inside of you atop Astarion's hooked fingers. The stretch burns in the most delicious of ways.

"Please.. Please more.."

A second finger of Abdirak's slides inside and finally you're sated, hips bucking back against their hands rhythmically. Astarion kneels down and sinks his teeth into your left ass cheek, blood trickling from the flesh and down his chin as he sups of your nectar, his eyes rolling back in his skull. He can taste your orgasm building. Your arousal and desperation. Your every need and want. His fingers pump in and out of you with bruising speed and Abdirak follows suit, his free hand reaching around the front of your waist to pinch your clit between his thumb and index. He rolls the sensitive, swollen bud between his fingers and presses sloppy, open mouthed kisses down your bloodied ass and thigh, savoring the metallic tang of your blood and the sweetness of your sweat. A delectable treat for all of his senses. Your moans grow louder and louder, jaw hung open and drool falling from your mouth in a steady stream. An eager hand reaches up to shove itself into your mouth and cover itself in your spit before moving back to your clit, spreading the wetness around.

The knot in your belly grows tighter and tighter, wound like a bow string, and you squeeze your eyes shut at the near painful overstimulation of your slit. Still the fingers work furiously against your walls.

"I'm gonna - I need to - Gods please!"

"Ah ah ah, use your words, darling. What do you need?"

The spawn drags his tongue over the globe of your ass to clean the remainder of blood from your skin. A quiet groan escapes his lips and he stands again, free hand taking hold of your hair to stand you fully upright.

"I need to cum.. I'm gonna -"

Just as you're about to topple over the edge, both sets of fingers are pulled from your cunt, a thick rope of slick still connecting you with the two men standing behind you. You keen at the emptiness. Your walls squeeze and contract around nothing. Abdirak lands a hot smack against your clit, and then another, and another, grinning as you sob loudly at the strikes. His pulls his hand away reluctantly, slipping his slick covered digits into his mouth to suck them clean. Astarion flashes him a toothy grin.

"N-no please.. Please!"

All you can muster are pathetic pleas and raspy whines, your feet stomping in frustration against the dirty stone beneath you. Astarion's fingers wrap themselves around your throat from behind and yank your back against his front, the threat of his angry erection rubbing back and forth against your bruised ass. You're fully exposed. Vulnerable. Writhing and crying for release. Such a beautiful sight to the vampire spawn and the servant of Loviatar. This is torture.

"Shadowheart, my dear. Are you sure you're not interested in some fun?"

"I'd much prefer to watch, thank you."

The half elf smirks and leans against the wall, eyes scanning over the scene just a few feet away. Her eyes narrow on you and you can feel her gaze burning holes into the back of your head. Does she approve? Do you even care? Skilled fingers work the front of Astarion's leathers open and his cock springs up and out, a soft slap against your ass startling you from the heavy daze filling your head. Your brain feels like cold snow slush. Your legs are weak, growing weaker by the second as Astarion rubs the tip of his weeping cock against your hungry slit. You nearly pull him right in and he hisses at the tightness. The invitation. Abdirak lowers himself to his knees in front of you, both hands finding purchase on your hips to keep himself steady. Gentle kisses pepper your abdomen, hip bones, and your stubbly mound, a shiver running up your your spine at the warmth of his breath against your sex. You wiggle your hips, both to tease the vampire spawn behind you, and to beckon the human's lips toward the spot you need him most.

Without warning, Astarion slips inside. His size surprises you. The delicious burn of the stretch, how he's nearly in your guts before bottoming out. Gods, he's huge. A careful push of the hips nestles him fully inside and he waits there for a moment.

"By the nine hells, you're tight.." He murmurs, lips pressed tightly to your ear now.

Abdirak's tongue flattens against your clit and he lifts his head to slide it up and over your mound, repeating this same movement to go back down. His strokes are slow and calculated. The combination of sensations makes your legs tremble like leaves in the winter air, and your hands fly down to tangle in the human's hair and guide his head. With a tut, Astarion reaches around to quickly grasp your wrists and yank them behind your back - you're pinned in place, forced to submit to his quickening thrusts and the skilled swirling of Abdirak's tongue. Your frame bends forward just slightly at the force of the spawn's thrusts, your legs spreading further apart instinctively. Again, that familiar knot twists and tightens in your belly and surely you'll cum at any moment. Astarion's free hand moves your hair away from the side of your neck to expose the still-healing bite marks from just the night before. He lines his fangs up perfectly re-open the wounds and you hiss at the sting. Like shards of ice in your veins. Overcome by pleasure and blood loss, your vision goes fuzzy. Drool drips from your lips and down your chin. Positively cock drunk.

Not even a soft moan is able to escape now. Only heavy exhales and gasps making your lungs burn and your throat raw. Abdirak's tongue works with surprising artistry against your clit still, lips sucking and tugging at the bundle of nerves to earn any sounds he possibly can from you. The loud slap of skin against skin rings throughout the stone room. Surely the rest of the outpost could hear you. You're surprised you don't have an audience gathered in the door way, watching the way you're being devoured and fucked into oblivion. The vampire spawns teeth leave your neck with a soft slurp sucking the last little drops of your blood through the puncture wounds, his tongue swirling around his lips and teeth to collect the remnants. Astarion's thrusts begin to lose their rhythm and you can't help but grin as his cock twitches erratically inside of you. Abdirak quickly releases your clit from his swollen lips, ducking his head further to use his tongue on Astarion now. The tip of the human's tongue traces the furry outline of the vampire spawns sack before sucking one ball into his warm mouth, massaging it in his jaw. The he switches, and the primal growl that escapes Astarion makes your heart flutter.

"Fuck, I'm cumming! Oh gods, I'm cumming!" He groans loudly, nails digging harshly into the plush meat of your hips as he quickly pulls himself from your constricting walls and spills his seed onto the small of your back.

Your end draws near, Abdirak's fingers finding their way into your cunt with impressive speed. They hook forward into that perfect spot and you cry out loud, finally able to make some sort of noise. The spawn behind you rubs his softening cock against your ass, keeping a tight grip on your arms behind your back still. Quiet squelches and slurps from the human between your thighs make you grin. Disgusting. Cold hands keep a careful grip on your trembling body. One restraining your hands, the other wrapped tightly around your throat now, playing with the pressure against your arteries. First a soft squeeze. Then it builds, and your hearing muffles. Black spots invade your vision. The spawn releases, and all of it comes rushing back. You gasp loudly for air, lungs on fire. Playfully, he repeats this again and again - bringing you to the brink of unconsciousness then quickly yanking you back. Soft coos and words of praise work you up to your climax.

"Such a good girl. So obedient. You like that, don't you? You like when I tell you how good you are?"

You nod in agreeance, unable to speak. Words feel foreign on your tongue. Your mouth is dry now, like you've filled it with linen. Still your end builds. Loud cries, sobs, and screams alert all of Faerun of your pleasure. You should be embarrassed. Ashamed, even. But you couldn't care less. Not now. You nearly topple over the precipice of pure ecstasy when suddenly.. The feeling disappears. Abdirak moves back from his original spot. Your cunt aches. Empty. A soft whimper escapes you and your head falls back against Astarion's broad shoulder.

"You thought we were going to let you cum? Little love.. How naïve."

His words sting like bees. Little Love. The degradation should upset you. Should ruin whatever arousal you have left. But it doesn't. If anything, it adds oil to the fire. You're more wet than ever. Heat rises in your ears and the tips turn a bright red, your fists balling up behind you in frustration as you try and wiggle out of his grasp. Through gritted teeth, you growl. A pathetic performance, on your part. Abdirak stands before you and circles his index finger over both of your nipples, smirking at you with half lidded eyes as each one perks up.

The half elf across the room giggles in amusement.

"Positively cruel."

"Patience, dear one.. You'll meet your end soon enough."

[grimreaperschild]

knife play

summary: Wednesday fucks you into the middle of next week

warnings: smutt, knife play, blood idk

a/n: it’s a little short and shitty but i just needed to blast through this writers block, much love-🦷

-———————————————————————

It had started off innocently enough, teasing Wednesday always did a little squeeze to her thigh under the table or pulling her into a secluded classroom to make out, it usually ended up with her under you whimpering out your name hands tied above her head.

But today you pushed a little too far by asking Rowan for his notes knowing how she felt about the slightly weird but sweet boy and now you were on your knees in her empty dorm, enid being too busy with Ajax giving Wednesday the perfect opportunity to teach you a lesson. You feel the cool mettle of her favourite dagger under your chin tilting your head up to meet her eyes the blade was as black as her irises the handle wrapped in worn brown leather “what do you have to say for yourself” her words bring you out of your thoughts as you study her small figure she’s discarded her blazer and skirt somewhere leaving her in a white shirt sleeves rolled up sweater vest and a pair of deep red boxers.

You feel a sharp crack against your cheek that snaps your head to the side and leaves you stunned “I asked you a question” you peer up into her eyes “I don’t care for your questions” you watch as her eyes narrow and a small smirk appears on her face “you seem to have forgotten who you belong too, let’s remind you” before you can answer she turns grabbing her favourite black strap on from under her bed “wow, I’m sooo intimidated” you let out a dry chuckle that’s cut short as the smaller girl grips your arm and all but drags you onto the bed, little but surprisingly strong you let out a grunt as your head is pushed into the pillow as you arch your back.

Wednesdays hands find your thighs scratching lightly, she runs a finger through your slick humming appreciatively as you let out a muffled groan “so wet for me, such a needy slut” you gasp as you feel the point of her dagger trail down your spine “safe word” “red” “good girl” you feel the head of her cock at your entrance and you push yourself back wanting friction, you gasp as she thrusts into you not giving you time to adjust before she sets a slow deep pace hitting just below the spongy spot you want her in the most you let out a cry into the pillow as one hand grabs your waist hard enough to leave bruises and the other hand hovers the knife over the soft flesh of your hip “mine” she purrs as she lets the knife slip into your skin making you let out a disgruntled yelp, pain and pleasure mixing making you feel slightly lightheaded.

You hear a groan from behind you as blood trickles down your hip and onto Wednesdays hands “is this ok” she asks though there’s no sweetness to her words “don’t stop” you gasp out into the pillow as you feel the cold steel cut into your hip a few more times leaving a warm sticky feeling in its wake, you push yourself back into Wednesdays strap eager to have her deeper, she grabs both your hips and slams into you hitting the spot you’ve been craving a loud whine leaves your mouth as you feel a familiar heat build in your lower stomach the flow of blood from your hip is making her hands on you sticky as the noise of skin on skin fils the room.

The pillow swallows most of your moans as Wednesday brings you over the edge pulling your hips back so aggressively with each thrust that the bed squeaked in protest, light explodes behind your eyes as you cum but she doesn’t stop, busy chasing her own release leaving a burning pain in your stomach that quickly pushes you over the edge again, her name leaves your mouth followed by a succession of guttural moans that finally have her hips stuttering as she cums.

She drops next to you still buried deep in you and you turn to Inspect the new addition to your body and find the neatest W.A craved into your hip, she presses a tender kiss to your temple, “my girl” you smile as you snuggle into your lover “all yours, weds”

———————————————————————

[diejager]

may i ask what's your thoughts on yandere horangi but like specifically just him (Konig excluded pls and thank you 😂)

Yandere Horangi

Headcanon

Pairing: Yan!Horangi x reader

Cw: yandere behaviour, possessive behaviour, DARKFIC, non-con touching, punishment, forced relationship, tell me if I missed anything. Wc: 694

Horangi’s a cold and sarcastic guy, but Yan!Horangi has the added bonus of being mean and stupidly possessive.

Yan!Horangi could be laughing at something you did, be it a clumsy mistake or something he deemed ridiculous. He confronts you, glaring down at you with narrowed eyes filled with dark intent, something dangerous that has you shuddering, but you can’t talk back to him when he looks so menacing in his get up: mask pulled up to his nose, eyes gleaming under his red-rimmed glass, hood shrouding his face in darkness and his body exhuming death with his simple and minimalistic choice of clothes.

Yan!Horangi is cruel with his remarks, he demeans you, breaks you down for him to build up to something more profitable, more likeable to him. He prefers doing things hands-on, as he’s always done, moving you around as he deems fit, one hand on your shoulder, on your waist or the small of your back, anywhere he can touch you.

Yan!Horangi might be means and degrading, but it’s his way of showing KorTac who you belong to. As stated previously, he’s very physical, he isn’t shy of publicly touching you, manhandling you to his pleasure in front of his coworkers, uncaring of your enflamed and shamed flushed cheeks. He’s not bothered by how embarrassed and undignified you feel, you scratch and hiss, fight him whenever you can. He likes the fight, that feisty gleam in your eyes when you glare at him through your lashes and pouty lips, staring up at him with a subtle tremor.

Despite Yan!Horangi’s usual rough handling, he can be gentle, helpful and insightful. He might help you master or better understand a certain skill. If you have issues with a certain gun, he’d stand behind you, chest flushed to your back, hip to ass and him breathing down your neck. He takes training very personally, he expects you to commit to mind every word, every advice and every compliment, but he knows he’s demanding too much from you. He’s easy to understand, teaching with simple wording and visual cues to follow.

That, however, doesn’t stop Yan!Horangi from punishing you if you do something wrong, pulling you to his room to reprimand you for disappointing him. He has you kneeling before him, hands on your thighs, eyes downcast and lower lip pulled between your teeth. It’s a power play for him, to show you who’s in control in this self-proclaimed relationship he forced you into.

Yan!Horangi treats you as a pet behind closed doors, holding you on his lap, fingers carding through your hair and making you abide to his many rules. He’s finicky about it, easy to anger when you’re not doing things by his book. Although he has a few dozens, he only pushes for a few: don’t let other people touch you; don’t talk to anyone for too long; don’t spend too much time with someone who isn’t him, especially alone; don’t forget that you belong to him; and don’t forget to listen to his words. He’s especially hard on you to let people know that you’re his.

Yan!Horangi doesn’t want to be cared for, he has the money, the strength and the independence to live on his own, learning from his past gambling issues. He wants to care for you, that’s all he truly wants, to love and care for his little pet. Despite his wish to lock you up, to keep you to himself and deprive the world of your presence, he’s whimsically desperate, like a feline marking its possession, he likes when you smile, your crazed gleam when you return from a successful mission with him or another operator.

After all, Yan!Horangi is as in love with you sweet and submissive side, obediently listening to him after he pinned you to the ground, hissing at you, as he’s obsessed with your feral smirk, grinning as you cleave a man in half with a bloodthirsty gleam in your eyes, staring at him. You’re his pretty, pedigree cat, clean and posh, listening to him when he asked, yet bratty when you felt like it.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @kaelysia