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0oolookitsme · 3 months ago

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Baby, We're Fireproof

Yes bestie, you are on the right blog and yes, I did write some angst!! Hahaha hope you enjoy!

Verse - Singer!Harry x CEO!Y/n

Word Count - 2.1k

Warnings - some insane making-out at the end ;)

Harry has been writing an album, and while Y/n wants to go easy on him, she just can't adjust to his absence and the fact that he has abandoned their relationship. But Harry is quick to realise his fault and remind her that they're fireproof.

In the quiet of the night, Y/n found herself tangled in a web of thoughts, questioning her feelings curled up into a ball on the huge bed.

Harry was yet again, not home. It had been a week since he started coming home later and later. He said it was because he was very close to finishing his new album, and Y/n wasn't quite sure if he realised that whatever he was doing out there, was beginning to put a strain on their relationship.

She wanted to be mature and let him be, knowing his profession was way different from hers. But the question, 'would he have adjusted like this, for this long?' plagued her thoughts.

The corners of her eyes were moist, and she only felt smaller and smaller as the night rolled on. It was pouring outside and even though the balcony was closed, Y/n could still hear the noise, and it only made her more aware of the static silence looming in the house right now.

She wanted to stop thinking so much, knowing that she was going to reach conclusions even she wouldn't believe herself in her right mind. But when she closed her eyes, sleep didn't come and when she opened them, Harry still wasn't sliding into the bed, next to her.

But she must've dozed off amidst her misery because she woke up the next morning with Harry's body tangled with hers, with his head in the crook of her neck, one arm under her head while the other one remained draped across her stomach and his legs twisted like ivy around hers.

She was sweating profusely. So, she got right up and lowered the AC's temperature so that Harry wouldn't wake up drenched like her. Surprisingly, there was no sleep in her eyes. She felt as awake as she'd been in the early hours of the morning.

Climbing down the stairs with nothing going on inside her head, she got herself a hot glass of water with some added lemon juice and went to sit on the sofa in the living room showcasing the sunrise.

Her shoulders were tense, eyes dry and unmoving. She knew there was going to be an argument between the two of them when he'd wake up. But that's okay, because they truly needed to talk this out before things went spiralling a little too far.

She was ready to sort this out and get the tension over with, but she still had that nagging feeling that he might leave the house without bidding her goodbye, leaving behind a mere note mentioning that he loved her and would miss her in the studio, while she'd be in the shower, preparing herself to sit and talk to him.

But that wasn't going to happen today -- she wouldn't let it.

Soft pads of footsteps perked her ears up, but she didn't turn to see him. She just knew that he was rubbing his eye with a knuckle, something that she'd want to disapprove of him for and he would make the faces at her that she found ridiculously funny and had grown to love.

But then she felt warm hands press against her eyelids, closing them and a mouth breathing near the nape of her neck.

"Why are you sitting down here, hm?" He spoke rather quietly, as if not wanting to disturb the peaceful silence. But the rasp in his voice definitely punctured it.

"I think we need to talk," softly, she held his hands and lowered them so they sat intertwined with hers, upon her collarbones. "Please," she whispered, her tone begging him to listen to her and not distract her.

But he was seemingly working well because her eyelids were still shut.

"Well, we can after I have some cuddles with you," he pushed the topic under the rug, knowing that once they'd be done, the both of them would probably be running late.

"No, H," Y/n said sternly, eyes flying open as she pulled on his arm for him to come in front of her and sit. She didn't say much when he just sat on the coffee table in front, opening her legs and putting his closed ones in the space between.

"Say," he said, his eyes set on hers with a nonchalant expression, but Y/n could read the tension in every flexed muscle of his arm and the tightness in his set jaw.

Y/n took a deep breath then. The only thing easing her nerves was the earnest look in his eyes, like he was willing to sit and actually sort this out.

"Don't you think that we haven't really been spending any time together, as of lately?" She spoke just as slowly as her breathing was.

He only nodded at that, albeit little tensely, urging her on.

"I feel that that has been putting a strain on our relationship."

He was still for a couple seconds, or maybe minutes, Y/n wasn't sure.

"I feel the same, babe, I truly do feel the same."

Y/n sensed a but coming, so she didn't speak.

"But I can't really help it, not for a while," he sighed, and Y/n's gaze lost the softness that had been glazing her eyes.

"You're writing an album, and I'm willing to understand how tough and exhausting that must be, but you can't just abandon us for that," she spoke with nods and shakes of her head, her voice rising a level higher.

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

"I've really been trying to be easy and not go on biting at you for not spending each breath of yours beside me, and it should've been easy but it's not because," she stopped to take a breath, one that shuddered. "Because you used to do that, and now you're suddenly not and I'm sorry that I haven't adjusted to it as quickly as you have!" Her brows rose, adding to her words like she was trying her all to make him see the point.

"And I understand if that's too much to ask from you right now, but at least speak with me or spend some time with me because this is a relationship, Harry!" She wanted to stand up and to pace around, but his hands were on her knees, and she didn't want that loss of contact.

Taking a breath to calm herself a little, she crossed her fingers with his again. "It's like we're mere roommates," she began, looking into his tired eyes, noticing his dark circles for the first time.

She didn't even know when they'd first appeared.

"I didn't realise that," he took a breath as if it was suddenly hard for him to speak. "I didn't realise that, that - that's what I'd been doing," with slumped shoulders, he lowered his gaze.

"But I -- you didn't put in any extra effort, either," he insisted, shrugging his shoulders. "You could've visited me at the studio or asked me to stay for a while longer or - or, I don't know!" He finished frustratedly, flailing his arms.

"Oh?" She said before thinking, then took a long breath. "Alright, I agree that I should've done that. That this isn't a one sided thing since it takes two hands to clap," -- she slumped back, crossing her legs -- "but wasn't it you who left while I was bathing, not even bothering to bid me goodbye for the day? Or to send a text mentioning that you were going to be late or that you were ordering food in the studio itself?" She almost suggested.

"I'm sorry about that, I wasn't thinking straight," he said clearly, rubbing her knuckles with his thumb.

"So why did you begin kissing me and fucking me every time that I tried to bring up the issue?" She said, maybe a bit more roughly that she'd intended.

"I wasn't doing it to shut you down, the hell?" He looked as if she'd accused him of robbery. "It was just mere coincidence! Yes, I should've stopped when you began to talk but you fell into me as well, didn't you?" He was standing up now, a frown settled deep between his ungroomed brows.

"I missed you every second I spent away from you, it was you who I was thinking about constantly so pardon me if I was exhausted out of my mind and wanted to spend some time with you!"

Y/n gaze was the guilty one now. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that," she accepted, her throat too dry for her to gulp.

"I just, I can't believe you'd think so low of me," he sighed. "But it's alright, okay? I know we were both frustrated and not thinking straight," he sat back down and held her hands again.

With his thumb and index finger, he softly gripped her chin to coax her eyes into meeting his.

"Forgive me? I promise I will never write songs about you again," his frown turned into a grin, and he leaned in to hold her gaze when she broke a smile that melted into laughter.

"I hate you," she mumbled, moving to sit in his lap with her arms wrapped around his shoulders, uncaring about the risk of the coffee table holding their weight unsuccessfully.

"Yeah, I forgive you as well," he chuckled, pressing a chaste kiss upon the lobe of her ear.

"Just, don't forget me," she sighed, wrapping her legs around his waist when he picked her up.

"I really made you think a lot of things, didn't I?" He spoke like he was apologising. "I'm really sorry, love."

He was carrying her up the stairs when she pulled away from the nape of his neck to look at him. "I'm sorry too," she said genuinely, holding his gaze.

"It's okay," he whispered, opening the door to their bedroom by pushing against it with his back before he pushed her onto the bed, climbing in after her and bringing with him the blanket which he wrapped the both of them in, holding her tight against him before he whisked himself away to hold his phone.

"Let's take today off, but don't forget to bring in fresh ideas, tomorrow then!" He said into the recorder and sent the voice message, sliding his phone in his bedside drawer then and lying back down, facing Y/n.

They stared at each other for a little, before Harry broke a smile, making one crack on Y/n's mouth as well. “Baby, we’re fireproof,” he said, smugly grinning, and making her laugh.

"Kiss me, you fool," she gritted with a scrunched nose, grinning widely until Harry hurried to seal their mouths together, the force causing her to move her head back a bit.

His scent suddenly filled all of her senses, him being all that she could see, feel, hear, and smell. The same vanilla scent with a light hint of some cinnamon and some woody scent that she’d been missing so terribly.

His tongue fought against hers until she gave up and he finally had the full access to her mouth. His breath hot against her skin bringing tingles under her skin, and making blood rush to her cheeks and fireworks erupt inside of her.

Backing away to catch his breath, Harry let out a hoarse chuckle when she came forward in the chase of his lips, causing their noses to smush. Licking his lips, he looked at her mouth for a second too long, seeing a kiss she always let him steal. Cupping the back of her head, he pushed her mouth to his’, relishing in the feeling of just how down bad he felt for her.

Slowly, he pushed her until her back was flush against the mattress and he was hovering above her, his dainty necklace resting on her neck as he claimed her mouth again, his palms slipping under his shirt that she’d been wearing and making their way around her body without much hesitation due to the map of her body inscribed among the lines on them.

Her back arched off the bed, pressing her abdomen against his’ while his knee parted her thighs to press up against her core. And as she slumped down into the mattress, the friction between her legs had her swaying her hips for more.

His hands grazed around her abdomen and stomach, caressing her back before he realised that she didn’t have a bra on. Groaning into her mouth, he pulled back to catch his breath.

Still heaving, a smirk pulled the right corner of his mouth upwards.

“Look at you, getting mad at me just because I was writing too many songs about you in the studio,” he teased, and before he could’ve taken another breath, his eyes rolled back as she pulled on the curls near the nape of his neck, and pushed him right back to her mouth once a breath or two had filled their lungs.

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rintoshis-archived · 1 year ago

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𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒 '𝐍 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 - ft. hobie brown / spiderpunk

🎸、 . *. ⋆ warnings; mentions of blood, profanities, 'breakup', makeup sex-ish, slight angst, vaginal penetration, no p in v, biting, mentions of piercings (hobie), poor attempt at British slang, parents in house, lmk if there's more! ✧. word count: 935

The rapid knocking on your window didn't falter even from the stormy weather that the sky was going through. The clock strikes 1:34 am, the light shining on the figure that was trying to get in by your window.

''Let me in... I know 'ya see me...'' The shadow had spikes on top of its head, and a guitar strapped on its back. The voice echoes from your window, only urging you to open the door. The raspiness and toned sound gave you an idea of who it was.

''Holy fuck, Hobie what the hell-'' His body fell on your carpet, limp and covered with bruises and cuts. His suit was busted, the fabric was ripping at the arms and the seams were threatening to open.

''What happened? Speak to me, Hobie.'' You quickly scooped his upper body to lean against your bed frame. You run towards your bathroom to grab a cloth and wet it with warm tap water. Your hands rummage through the cabinets, finding the band-aids and Betadine.

You approach Hobie's wet body on your rug, clearly swinging around the city while it was thundering. Someone didn't check the weather forecast... But you set that thought aside and wiped off the blood pooling on his cheek.

''I'm fine, babe.'' ''Don't call me that.'' Your words only seemed to puncture Hobie's ego rather than his body. ''Why not? Doncha love it?'' Your hands were a lot denser on his skin before he used the corny nickname on you. You and Hobie weren't so 'peachy' after that incident in one of his shows.

''Loosen' up, doll.'' Hobie's hand rests on your cheek, pushing away the stray hair strand from your face. Your hands swat his away and occupied themselves in getting the bandaids and the Betadine. ''Just cause I'm taking care of you now, doesn't solve our relationship, Brown.''

Your sudden call of his last name shot a bullet through his heart. He knew you were tough to crack, but if he had to go on his knees for you to forgive him he gladly would.

''Brown? What happened to 'Bee' or 'Love'-'' ''It died, Hobie.'' You put the last bandaid on his cheek, your face inching closer to his. His breath fanning on your nose and his eyes only piercing through yours.

''You wouldn't be doing this if you didn't love me.'' His words made your hands pinch his ear, a small frown appearing on your face. ''I'm only doing this because we're...'' Your words only faded away from the sudden thought of what you and Hobie were.

You didn't like labels yourself. But Hobie was the only one who could actually play your heart and make a tune. As corny as it sounds, Hobie didn't help the banging of your heart in your ribcage.

His eyes were looking directly at yours, winking at your cute frown. ''Friends?'' You pinched his ear again and rose up from his side. ''Bastard.'' Your words lightened his mood, but the spark remains.

Hobie stands up from your floor and follows your figure in the bathroom. His hand trails across your waist, your two reflections being seen in front of the mirror. Your hands grip the ceramic, letting Hobie corner you between the sink.

''If you didn't love me... You wouldn't let me do this, wouldn't 'ya?'' Hobie's hands slide under your pajamas, his hands pawing at your panties. ''Hobie...'' His free hand makes your way to yours, caging your hand in his.

''Mm, yeah? 'Ya know my name. Say it.'' His fingers set your panties aside, collecting your essence from your slit. A small moan comes out of your mouth. Your hand covers your mouth from spilling any more sound.

'''Bee, parents-' Hobie knew that your parents were in your home. In fact, a part of you thinks he came here for that sole purpose. ''I know, I know. Keep quiet for me, yeah? You can do that for me, can't you?'' You bite your palm once Hobie enters his fingers inside of your cunt, your juices pooling at your panties.

Your moans are muffled by your hand, his thumb toying with your clit. ''You like that, don't 'cha?'' His words enter your right ear, his hot breath tickling the shell of your ear. His cold rings hit your hot skin, and the sudden temperature change gave you goosebumps.

Even due to how odd it sounds, Hobie knew how to toy with your body just right. The way his fingers curl and crook inside of you, the pace of shapes circling on your sensitive clit, him pinching your nipples. He had known your anatomy more than you thought he did.

''Mm, right there?'' He was teasing you, the way your body shook under his touch only proved the impact he had on you. You could only moan for a response, your eyes closed at the knot tightening in your stomach.

Your hands let go of the cold ceramic of the sink, holding Hobie's hands through the fabric of your pajamas. ''Close? I can feel you. Fuck, so tight. Squeezing my fingers.'' Hobie kisses your neck, the cold metal of his piercings only made his sloppy kisses more pleasurable.

He bites the skin of your shoulders, ''Wanna keep me inside of you forever?'' You could only nod your head frantically, your legs close shakily. ''Cum for me.'' His words led you to your orgasm, your sweaty bodies sticking to each other from the heat of the moment.

''You know you love me.'' He grabs your chin and kisses your swollen lips.

the thoughts in my head with hobie only spiraled to this mess. i hope you guys enjoy this either way:) ‧₊˚ ⋅ fusaes 2023 do not copy

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throwaway-yandere · 1 year ago

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FLAWLESS (Yandere!Various Genshin/Reader)

A/n: This is a complete interactive fic w/ CGs! There’s an HP system and 4 possible endings (yandere!Scaramouche, Alhaitham, Kaveh, and Kazuha). This is my final fanfic and I really put my best effort into drawing and writing this. Have fun!!! Your choices matter so read the evidences properly and try not to get a bad ending hahaha. (Pls answer this poll after and feel free to send me memes about who you got hAHHAHA)

Unreliable Synopsis: (Danganronpa!Genshin AU) If this is your last dance as an idol, then you do not want it. No. You’ll make the real criminal sing instead.

CW: yandere themes, blood, murders (well duh ansy–), and brief mentions of suicide.

Kazuha frowned. "For (L/n) (Y/n), this whole ordeal must seem like a flawless crime."

"They don't know the murder weapon, the suspects— no nothing." Kaveh sighed.

Alhaitham interjected. "Indeed, but the real questions will begin in a moment."

Words punctured the air in nameless accusations. Each time people enter this room, only distrust looms acting both as a safety blanket and suffocating plastic. You stared at the people left. One, two, three, four, five... You clenched your fist, and all those fingers pointed back at you.

The sixth.

There are only six survivors left.

"Say, (L/n) (Y/n)." Your Akademiyan companions stared at you as Kunikuzushi’s smirk could practically be heard in his voice. "Where were you at the time of the murder?"

You gulped.

The Teyvat Akademiya. Home only to the most renowned student of their craft. The faculty carefully picks out select groups of students to be their new freshmen- and it can only be counted by hand how many had declined such a generous offer. It was a government state university, but it was also a golden ticket to knowing people from high places.

Each student was known for contributing something in their fields of interest. In fact, both your adoptive siblings were alumni of this prestigious school. Your brother Aether was a famous "adventurer" (as he loved to call himself instead of an artifact-obsessed archeologist) whereas your sister Lumine was a remarkable swordswoman with a straight-edged track record. Even your older friends, Dainsleif, and a certain glasses-wearing individual you had forgotten the name of were graduates and now boast incredible resumes befitting of an Akademiyan. Each alumnus you've met wasn't someone any person with a head on their shoulders would dare disrespect.

But that was not the reason for your schoolmates’ evident intimidation.

“Allow them a moment to process,” Alhaitham scoffed. “The Body Discovery Announcement was approximately 2 hours ago. It’s challenging for individuals from the entertainment industry such as them to comprehend complicated matters in a few seconds.”

“I would’ve fainted at your rare attempt at empathy if it wasn't obviously pointed,” Kaveh scoffed before turning to you with a soft stare. “(Y/n), don’t listen to these two, I’m sure we can find out if you’re innocent or not later.”

You gave a short nod of assent.

Tragically, murders had become the norm for college students like yourself. No one has flinched at Kaveh’s grim mention of a suspect lurking by and none had the insanity to deny what had occurred.

It began when you first woke up in one of the Akademiya's classrooms. You stirred awake on a desk near Shikanoin Heizou, the "Detective Prince". He was a famous figure, so you instantly believed him when he said you were both hauled into this location against your will. You were enthused by his infectious desire to uncover whatever was behind the “kidnapping” you found yourselves in. He told you not to worry, that despite the barred windows and inaccessible exits, you'd both "probably" find a way out. As you both wandered around the area, you found fourteen other students (some familiar faces, some not as much). For a brief moment of hope, everyone thought escape was possible.

That was until a certain cold-eyed puppet entered the scene.

A heartless puppet you’re sure was waiting for everyone just under that elevator.

“Is… Is this everyone?” You asked like a mouse, frightened as your eyes darted for any hints of twinned cyan hair. Nothing about your recent behavior had gone unnoticed.

Senior Faruzan is missing…

Yoimiya frowned, grabbing your hand for comfort. “(Y/n)…”

Kunikuzushi scoffed. “Enough of this dumb ohhh boohoo exhibit. Let’s go.”

The most mysterious of the bunch left for the stairs immediately, punching the button on the elevator to its ground floor. Yoimiya huffed, muttering complaints about Kuni’s behavior while the three other men followed her silently. No one took the stairs two at a time and walked at a snail’s pace. A clear indication that no one wanted this to occur.

And just like in the previous cases, Kazuha’s eyes were on you the entire time but spoke nothing of this behavior.

The elevator door opened. You looked at the camera above it. If the Shogun's words are to be trusted, then the outside world is watching your every move like reality TV.

If that's the case, might as well give them a show.

Kunikuzushi stepped aside, royally ushering everyone— and specifically YOU— in.

“Idols first.”

Everyone entered the trial room. If the mood from earlier was tense, it is worse now that you’re inside. Stepping into the cold room makes the situation all the more real.

There is an execution waiting to happen, but without a hint if it’ll be “us” or “them”. Every bright person inside the room here had previously partaken in 4 of these court sessions by force. Since no one can exit the premises nor contact the outside world, the only key out was to kill and avoid getting caught. 5 people had attempted to commit murder, and considering how you’re still breathing, none of the “blackened” had succeeded in getting their way.

How… How did it come to this?

You enrolled in the Akademiya in hopes that you'd also find the subtle clues as to why Aether went missing, this wasn't in your plan.

Getting roped into this killing “game” was on no one’s to-do list. You received an invitation to enroll in the Akademiya because of your stark idol career, although your siblings being famous alumni may have greatly increased your chances of receiving that privilege. You would’ve thrown that paper into the fire if you knew you’d get dizzy upon arriving in the Akademiya and will wake up in such a heartbreaking dilemma. Hearing from a grapevine, you discovered that Kaveh was invited for his architectural drafts, Kazuha for his poems and a bit of swordsmanship in his repertoire, Yoimiya for her firework shows, and Kunikuzushi?… You don’t know. But you are wholly aware as to why Alhaitham is here as your senior— you were there when he opened his letter after all.

The “mascot” is yet to make her entrance. So, as “obedient” students, you’ve uncomfortably shuffled to the places you were meant to stand. Bile rose inside your throat as you looked at the last five students excluding yourself circling the room— with Faruzan’s crossed-out portrait to your right while Kamisato Ayaka’s on your left. It would appear that most of the dead students were on your side and the closest breathing person next to you was Kunikuzushi, who was two photographs away.

Alhaitham, Amber, Tighnari, Ajax, Albedo, Kamisato Ayaka, You, Faruzan, Xiao, "Kunikuzushi", Kaveh, Cyno, Yoimiya, Layla, Yunjin, Kaedehara Kazuha, and Shikanoin Heizou.

The deceased faces had been crossed out in bright violet paint, a nauseatingly unsubtle reminder that only six remained. Yet, the one that was meant to sit towering above was missing.

“… Where’s The Shogun?” Kazuha asked.

“Ah, so you do have a voice. And here I was about to call you a cricket. I thought our poet lost his words, considering how the previous trial ended,” Kunikuzushi mocked, rolling his eyes. “Just wait and see.”

You sighed, hoping it was quiet enough for Kuni not to have heard it.

The last trial broke everyone’s spirits and sense of camaraderie the most. Before trials, the puppet gives everyone an incentive to kill. In the Ayaka-Heizou murder case, each student was given a videotape that raised more questions than answers. Yours was a clip of Lumine, your fellow theater actors, and idol mates congratulating you for your enrollment before it cuts off to a scene of your home burned to cinders. As for Ayaka, hers was a short-lived message of her older brother asking her to come visit the clan for Thoma’s upcoming birthday— before it cuts to a gruesome scene of her brother fatally wounded on their living room floor.

“Find out what happens once you graduate!”... and then the tape ends.

Whoever was the mastermind behind this killing, you had to admit, they were an expert in psychological torture. And unfortunately for everyone, Ayaka was a smart individual— killing the most trustworthy student, Heizou, to cover her tracks better. She put up quite the fight in manipulating everyone to think that you and Kaveh were possible culprits.

You even got into an argument with the calmest person around. Kazuha was “convinced” that Ayaka was right, which led to you two entering an incredibly heated argument that left him depressed with his rejected apology. You were on "good terms" with him before, that being he would always offer to cook food and accompany you often.

… Perhaps that was a good thing. Discreetly, you thought he strangely knew you to a degree that makes you far from comfortable. It still bugs you how he knew you all too well and yet you know nothing about him other than his aspirations: traditional Inazuman poetry writing with a bit of karuta on the side.

Maybe he used to be a big fan of yours? Even so, the foundation of your music, choreography, and persona was weaved through a tapestry of feel-good lies. And yet, he was wise enough to speak your true thoughts before you even hesitated to voice them in your cheery idol tone.

But that’s not the issue right now.

The issue on your plate was that you had no evidence to prove your innocence except for the list of school rules on your E-Handbook because you were convinced someone will kill you during the investigation.

You laughed to yourself bitterly. Might as well review those rules now.

You opened the E-Handbook.

As per “school rules”, there are regulations to be had in a murder game, but none stick to you as these three. Rule #10 and #7: A class trial will commence after three or more students have discovered a corpse, and a Body Discovery Announcement will play as soon as it occurs. However, a trial will be held if and only if every survivor is present; failure to do so will result in class “expulsion.”

And the last rule that never left your mind was Rule #8: If the guilty party is exposed during the class trial, they alone will be executed.

By the end of Trial #4, she did not receive a proper execution. Ayaka was compelled to restore her honor and raised her sword to…

…

… You couldn’t hate her for it. Even though you were close friends with Heizou, you couldn’t hate any of your fellow students. They all had family, hopes, and visions for the future. Each one here was "a fledgling barely out of the nest." You couldn’t deny that you would’ve done the same.

"Since the Shogun isn't here yet, let's get a headstart," Kaveh gripped the court fence, eyeing everyone with a nervous stare and stiff posture. "What's your alibis?"

Nobody raised their voice initially. You cast a pitying glance toward Kaveh. When it comes to your closest friendships, he comes in second only to Heizou. As someone who had seen the horrors of the media which is essentially a mirror of the world's social issues, Kaveh's one of the few decent individuals left on the planet, in your opinion. In moments of quiet, you, Kaveh, and Faruzan used to chat together, with Heizou periodically interrupting to share his findings regarding everyone's entrapment.

Considering how Kaveh is your last true friend left, you volunteered yourself.

"I never left my room," you spoke audibly depressed, no longer caring that you appeared un-idol-like. "And I refused entry as well. I heard a couple of angry knocks at 9:37 p.m., but I didn't open my door for anyone."

You looked at Kazuha, hurt and accusingly.

You'd never forget how Kazuha called you a murderer. That intense argument made up 30% of Heizou's class trial. He lost his composure and called you a "dishonorable monster". The whole back-and-forth was very much unlike him. After the trial, neither of you talked– and you never left your room unless it was to get something to eat without anyone in sight.

If he was the one who killed Faruzan because he can’t get to you, then you’ll…

"9:37 eh? You got a watch now?" Kunikuzushi pointed at your wrist.

You snapped out of your aggression and nodded, which made him break out in a fit of laughter.

"HAHAHA!!!" Kunikuzushi grinned, wide. "Learned your lesson, huh?!"

You scoffed, but your ego was humbled and your heart sank at his harsh words.

Everyone in the room nearly lost their lives because of your time-blindness. It's precisely what made Kazuha suspicious of your motives. You were always unsure of the time, hence, you didn't have the most watertight alibi compared to Ayaka. Before you entered your room to lock yourself, Alhaitham blocked the door with his shoe and handed you his spare wristwatch. He was the last person you saw before your self-isolation.

"Good," Alhaitham said. "And you, Kunikuzushi?"

"Are we going to ignore that angry knocking thing?" Kaveh rightfully asked.

"Let's complete the first task first," Alhaitham answered. "Let's follow the circle; it's (Y/n), then Kunikuzushi, Kaveh, Yoimiya, Kazuha, then I."

"Conveniently putting yourself last," Kunikuzushi snarled. "But whatever. I was napping in my dorm. Woke up when I heard footsteps outside and decided to investigate. The discovery alarm rang off when I entered the nurse's office the second time."

Kaveh fell silent, his face pale.

"I… never went to m dorm that night"

"Oh?" You and Yoimiya curiously said in unison.

"I-I was with Alhaitham, patrolling!!!" Kaveh defended; his arms in the air. "I swear on my life, I was with him! We're probably the footsteps Kuni heard."

He spoke as if it was a good thing with his mouth, but he was whispering that it wasn’t with his eyes.

"Can't be certain," Kunikuzushi threw in a quick grumble and snapped his fingers. “But I think that's probably the case.”

"That makes sense. I mean, if Kuni was telling the truth then that just means there's more chance it's just those two hopping around. Oh, and I was actually on the second floor at the time. I was in the recreational room cause I wanted to get tokens for the cute little Shogun Stall.'' If Kuni’s side comment lasted a month, then Yoimiya's would be a year– but her good cheer is just what everyone needed to alleviate the tension.

"I wasn't in my dorm room either," Kazuha said. "I was in the cafeteria. I couldn't sleep so I decided to fry fish."

"True, I think. When I checked the cafeteria a knife was missing from the shelf."

"We’ll keep your fact-checking in mind, Miss Naganohara."

No soul was sure if Alhaitham was being genuine about it except for you. And the answer was yes, he was being warily appreciative. Admittedly, you don’t know any of these people before this killing game started, except for one person…

Alhaitham looked away, conscious of how you looked at him.

In all fairness, Alhaitham was closer to Lumine than you and Aether, and he wasn’t your favorite neighbor either. As a kid, he was the type who would leave in the middle of hide-and-seek simply because the ordeal wasn’t “stimulating” to his developing intellect. He had a habit of causing uncomfortable situations just to “observe” your reactions with an emotionless stare. Alhaitham had once given you a sumeru rose with a startling grasshopper to see how you would behave, and the worst part is that everyone knows he did these without malice. His grandmother had to force a sorry out of him for your tears to dry. “He probably has a crush on you, you know how boys are,” was the excuse the old lady tried, but your twin siblings were quick to shut that thought down. You and he were simply oil and water, nothing more, nothing less.

But there were times you two got along. When you aired out loud sentiments regarding how stuffy his room must be, you snatched the book he was reading and dashed up the nearest tree. Despite his grumbling reservations, he was thankful that you taught him how to climb that afternoon. That was the first you saw him smile wider than usual and offered to narrate the book you stole: The Little Prince.

However, that version of Alhaitham you’ve come to love remains awol amidst this killing game.

"As for my whereabouts: Kaveh is correct. He and I were patrolling just the first floor and exchanging conversation. Neither of us could sleep. We started at 9:15 and ended abruptly at 11:05, when we, along with Kunikuzushi, found–"

"The body." Kunikuzushi finished.

"Yes," Alhaitham said.

Kunikuzushi smirked. From your perspective, the worst part about this was not Kunikuzushi’s inappropriate smugness, but the look in his eyes that mirrored what Heizou used to have— what your good friend used to be. The light in his eyes, his more forward demeanor, the way he crossed his arms and snapped his fingers– it was as if he was copying him.

Mocking him.

You hate Kunikuzushi. You detest just how much you don’t know why he’s in the Akademiya or anything else about him other than his first name. You loathe how he had made it his job to be the antagonist of every damn class trial. You hate how he looks at you as though you’re beneath him. You despise how much he is willing to withhold vital information till the very end.

Kunikuzushi is like a commedia dell’arte stock character. A Scaramouche. An unreliable servant. You can’t trust a man who said he was moved by your acting in all your filmography only to act like he wants nothing more than to crush your spirits once lives were at stake.

After listening to everyone’s alibis, your intuition screamed from something deep within a place you had begun to trust after experiencing these trials:

Out of six survivors, FOUR of them are hiding something.

“Is everyone present?”

Before you could speak up, a low and refined woman’s voice stole everyone’s attention. All turned to gaze at the long synthetic-haired lady with a katana by her side. She returned the stares with an unfathomable coldness as she strutted to her throne, the silk of her grand kimono touching the floor.

There she is. The lone audience and judge. The puppet: the Almighty Raiden Shogun. Undoubtedly made of metal and not flesh. Xiao had learned that firsthand when he sacrificed his life in an honorable duel against the captor— but seeking freedom by force was of no use when she herself is capable of the murders she wished to witness.

“Very well. We shall begin.”

“W-Wait, hold up, ma'am!”

The last vaguely extroverted cheerleader raised her hand; her bravery to interrupt the Shogun was acknowledged.

“... Can I share my E-Handbook data with (Y/n)?” She asked, high-pitched.

The medical and criminological technology of this era eluded everyone. Trapped inside the Akademiya with no phones or any signal to the outside world, each student only has their E-Handbook to rely on. It contains information the owner investigated regarding murders and records testimonies made by their peers. A handbook is only “handy” for both people who were hoping to survive and those who were hoping to twist the facts.

And that offer is exactly what you need.

“You see– they didn’t leave their room during the investigation period– probably worried that the killer might be after them next and they kinda turned into a hikikomori for the past few days. I’m kinda worried they wouldn’t be able to defend themselves on this trial so… So, uh… Pretty please?” The blonde girl smiled nervously.

The Raiden Shogun stared, calculating.

“I shall allow it.”

“Thank you so much!” Yoimiya tapped her E-Handbook as fast as she could, more eager than you were in watching the loading screen fill up.

(SYSTEM: RECEIVING NAGANOHARA YOIMIYA’S E-HANDBOOK DATA…)

(SYSTEM: TRANSFER COMPLETE.)

You smiled at Yoimiya but it came out crooked and jaded. She didn’t complain that you weren’t at your top form today, but she did send you a loud “Do your best!” in her native tongue.

The Shogun walked to the throne and took her seat.

“Now then, let the class trial begin.”

Out like a bolt of lightning, the doors behind you were completely shut with metal bars in her flick of a wrist. In her twisted form of justice, she hammered the circular surface with her gavel.

“Court is now in session.”

(SYSTEM: TAP HERE TO CONTINUE)

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secretly-tumb1r · 7 months ago

Text

Roadtrip - hotch x reader part 2

part one

summary: when hotch finally sheds his stubbornness, he decides to drive back to Quantico from New York, in an attempt to rest his punctured eardrum. You couldn’t leave him without company, so you join him.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, age gap (hotch in his late 40s reader in her late 20s), unprotected sex (p in v) oral (fem receiving), no mentions of haley

a/u: thank you guys so much for the support on the first part of this, you’re all so so sweet💞 i truly hope you enjoy this part too💞 xoxo

masterlist

You’ve kissed people before, but never like Aaron. It was almost like you had been starved of his taste, and him of yours. The kiss was so rough and angry, angry at the fact you didn’t do this earlier. If you knew it would be this good, you would’ve jumped his bones the minute you saw him.

There was no doubt he was more experienced than you, he was a lot older too, but right now, you were both just as starved and as messy and impatient as the other.

The kiss was so impactful, you could feel your arousal start to pool in your panties. Looking for any sort of relief, you start grinding on his crotch, giving you easy access to it since you were straddling him while he was laying down. You could feel him get harder by the second and that only made you moan in his mouth.

He gently bit your lower lip as he moved down to kiss your jawline and lower to your neck, finding that sweet spot that made you arch your back and drop your jaw in a silent moan.

His lips explored your body as they reached your covered breasts. Big hands cupped both your tits as both index and thumb fingers pinched and rolled your nipples.

“fuck a-aaron”

“i know baby i know”

“please please” you were a moaning mess above him. He flipped you on your back so now he was on top of you, a coy smirk plastered on his face.

“what is it baby hm? cmon use your words sweetie”

the pet names made you wetter (if that was even possible) you needed him now.

“please f-fuck me aaron”

he chuckled deeply, laughing at how desperate you were. His hands moved down from your breasts to your lower stomach. He lowered himself on the bed on his stomach as he began to kiss your inner thighs.

“awh poor baby” he rubbed a finger on your clothed cunt, arousal seeping through it. “so wet” he looks mesmerised by your glossy panties. “all this for me huh baby?” you shook your head frantically and moaned, giving him the answer he wanted.

“don’t worry sweetie i’ll make it better” his big fingers hooked around the hem of your panties as he ripped them off in a sudden movement, the cool air hitting your weeping cunt, making you clench around nothing.

He pecked your swollen clit, and looked up in your eyes to see your reaction. Your head was thrown back, your hair messy. A bead of sweat rolled down your forehead, your body already so hot even thought nothing had happened yet.

He ran his tongue up and down your slit, gaining a hiss from your throat. He groaned. “fuck honey, you taste amazing” He started flicking his tongue up and down, he was a starved man and this was his last mean. Suddenly he put his finger up to your lips “suck” you gladly took it in and swirled your tongue around the tip of his finger, he let out a shaky breath as your spit coated his finger. He took it out your mouth with a ‘pop’ and teased your entrance.

Just as you were about to complain he he inserted his finger in your cunt, knuckles deep. His fingers were far bigger from yours giving you a pleasure you were never able to give yourself.

“you think you can take another one baby?” you nodded frantically and a low chuckle escaped him. He stretched you open when he added another finger, pleasure building deep inside your stomach.

His head lowered to suck on your clit, his touch was addictive. “fuck- ‘m close!” he started to pump his fingers faster as he looked up at you making eye contact. He looked too pretty between your legs, hair messed up and nose up aganist your pelvic bone. You could come just at the sight. Your hand flew to his hair as you started grinding on his face. Suddenly you felt it. You let go all over his face.

When he came up, his face looked delicious soaked in your arousal. He licked his lips and fingers clean as he kissed you deeply, allowing you to taste yourself, “please aaron need you inside” you managed to croak out between kisses.

Your hands flew to his pants button, undoing it quickly. “someone’s eager” he laughed and you could only moan.

You could see his bulge through his boxers, he looked so big.

Your mouth watered at the sight as you pulled down his boxers, his cock springing out proudly, leaking with pre cum.

“lay down baby” his gentle voice awakened something inside you, and you couldn’t help but do as he said.

His lips found your neck again as he aligned his tip with your entrance making you tense up. “relax honey” his hand started circling your nipple.

He finally thrusted into you, letting you accommodate to his size. He was massive, bigger than anyone else you’ve ever been with.

He started to move, picking out his pace, slow but steady. “aaron- faster please” you pleaded.

“oh you like it rough huh?” he cocked his eyebrow up. He flips you on your stomach pressing his large hand on your lower back to make your back arch.

You were a moaning mess. He rammed his cock in your pussy at an ungodly pace, hitting that spongy spot inside that made you mewl.

Aaron wasn’t the one to come quickly, but your sweet noises accompanied by the noises your sweet pussy was making around his cock was like a symphony, music to his ears.

His hands dug into your hips so hard he was sure it would leave marks. He wanted that. He wanted to mask you as his.

His strong hand moved to your front where he started circling your clit making you moan even louder.

“fu- aaron yes god! i’m gonna c-“ you interrupted yourself with pornographic moans.

“cmon baby let it go, make a mess on my cock.”

that was all you needed. You were sure you’d never had a better orgasm before, your pussy clenched around his cock making him cross the finish line too, you could feel thick spurts of come pairing your walls.

Aaron pulled out mesmerised by the mixture of your cums together. Two of his fingers collected the dripping come and pushing it back inside, groaning loudly. The overstimulation make you whinge.

After Aaron had cleaned you up and made you go to the bathroom (reid had told him about the dangers of utis after sex), you found yourselves cuddled in eachothers arms.

Your soft breathing acting like a sleeping pill for Aaron, and he was sure this was the best nights sleep he’s had in a while.

It became a problem that he tasted you because now he would never let you go.

OH MY GOD GUYS!! this was so hard to write😭 i love reading smut but writing it, not so much!! i gross myself out💔 HOPE YOU LOVED THIS PART please lmk down in the comments I LOVE YOU ALL SO SO MUCHHH💞💞 xoxo

@mrs-ssa-hotch

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daycourtofficial · 6 days ago

Note

hello I would like a latte with marshmallow and vanilla

Okay I cooked a bit with this one 😭 Rhys needed a bit of a redemption methinks

Order your own coffee for gingerfucker week here

Latte with marshmallow and vanilla = fluff with Atlas and a bat boy

“Uncle Rhys?”

The small voice pulled him from the papers on his desk, amber eyes looking up at him. His nephew, Atlas, fidgeted on the other side of the desk, a nervous habit his sister, Atlas’ mother, used to do in her youth.

“Yes?”

“Can Nyx and I go flying?”

Rhys sat back in his chair, a bit surprised at his nephew’s question. His grin spanned his whole face, something he couldn’t contain whenever the pride of seeing his son flying through the air entered his mind.

His grin quickly slackened. “You can’t fly, Atlas.” The words punctured Rhys, reminding him of teaching Atlas’ mother how to fly centuries ago.

“I can hold him up, daddy.” Nyx came barreling into the room just in time to wrap his arms around Atlas’ middle, picking the Autumn heir up about a foot off the ground. Nyx’s tanned cheeks puffed out, exhausting himself with the effort as Atlas tried to reach higher, making himself seme further off the ground.

“Nyx can’t even lift you off the ground, Atlas.” He chuckled, getting up from his desk. He rounded his desk, crouching down in front of Atlas and Nyx. “How about we all go flying?”

The cheers from the two small boys grew louder as Rhysand stood to his full height, his wings sprouted from his back, enjoying hearing Atlas’ awe at the sight of them. He crouched back down, scooping both boys up into his arms before running for the balcony. He made his last step on the balcony, his wings beating behind him as there was nowhere left for him to land.

Atlas shrieked in his ear, wiggling to firmly have a hold on Rhysand’s neck as they flew higher and higher. The air was getting colder the higher they flew, the sky a bright shade of blue

Atlas’ screams subsided, turning into ooh’s and ah’s as he and Nyx tried showing each other the various spots of Velaris.

“There’s my school!”

“Is that Uncle Az?”

“There’s mommy’s art studio!”

Their words were filled with amazement as Rhysand remained silent. Atlas’ hair was so vibrant in the sun, it was nearly blinding. His freckled cheeks stretched taut, bursting with joy only a child knows.

Atlas reached for the sky, his short arms not long enough to capture the sun in his hand. Rhys’s wings were an act of defiance, determination to not be kept pinned down. Did the little boy know he couldn’t defy gravity by himself? That no one reached the stars without help?

He spun through the air, delighting in the childish screams that accompanied being upside down. He flew them over the tops of Velaris, his grin growing as he began their descent onto one of the many rooftops downtown.

The boys groaned, the end of the flight disappointing them. Rhys kept them in his arms - they were almost getting too big to carry, a fact he did not want to mention to either his mate or his sister.

He kept a tight grip on them, his fingers desperate to cling to their childhood, keeping them young and happy for as long as he could.

“What’s a midday flight without cookies?” Their small, round faces quickly lit up as Rhys maneuvered to their rooftop access door, slipping inside to indulge in the whims of two small boys.

#ask #gingerfucker #gingerfucker week #gf blurbs #eris x y/n #eris x reader #eris x you

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magicalbats · 1 month ago

Text

Kinktober 2024 Day 4: Sampo x Reader

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 7082

Warnings: afab!reader, Silvermane Guard reader, size difference, age difference, handcuffs, cunnilingus, cumming untouched, cum in pants 🤭 dubcon, piv, mentioned stomach distention

A/N: So I'll fully admit that part of what went into this was me being petty lol ofc I was excited to write for Sampo again anyway, but I got a comment on the first fic I did for him that accused the reader of being underage. When she most certainly was not. If that was the angle I was going for, trust me, you'd know about it. So I played up the size difference big time in this one and made our reader a sweet little virgin for him to take advantage of 🤭

⭐

It’s not every day that Sampo Koski finds himself on the sharp end of a Silvermane Guard’s short sword and for that he has to give you credit.

The fact you’d managed to track him down at all, let alone way out at the far edge of the old abandoned city is impressive enough on its own. Not many could have accomplished even that much. But to then face him by yourself rather than calling for backup?

Well, it looked to him like you were just chomping at the bit to sink your teeth into some trouble.

“I’ve got you cornered now, you crook. Make any sudden movements and I’ll run you through. You’re under arrest.”

That was all well and good, but as he looks down the length of your very pointy sword he understands why it's not one of the standard issue halberds you’ve got pointed at his face. You were tiny in comparison to him and hardly the sort of girl he’d call intimidating. He could probably take you, sword or no sword. In fact he’s sure he can, considering he must’ve had at least a hundred pounds on you easy, and yet … the clear glint of challenge in your eyes makes him reconsider that choice. Although he’d come out on top eventually that didn’t mean he wouldn’t suffer a few puncture wounds for it along the way and he isn’t quite convinced he can afford that price. Getting into a tussle with you probably wasn’t worth it.

Feigning defeat, he lets out a heavy, long suffering sigh and slowly lets go of the bag full of smoke bombs sitting on top of the rickety old table. Just as any good con man knows when to quit while he’s ahead, Sampo recognized that now was the right time to throw in the towel. He could always figure something out further down the road, after you’d put your little sword safely away.

And besides. You did strike him as someone who might be fun to play with for a while.

So he harmlessly lifts his hands up in what should have been the universal gesture of surrender but you jolt as if he’d just reached for a loaded gun. The blade aggressively bobs with the involuntary flex of muscle and nearly takes off the end of his nose, surprising an undignified squawk out of him. A bit on edge, yeesh.

“Alright, alright. Let’s just calm down and take a few deep breaths, okay? You could really hurt someone waving that thing around like that!”

“Be quiet!” You hiss up at him.

Keeping your weapon leveled at the center of his face, you take a step forward as if to close the distance but he’s quick to scuttle back a pace. It’s not like he really had much of a choice, your eyes flashing dangerously as you follow after him.

“Do not even think about trying to escape, you damned nuisance. In the name of the Amber Lord and under order of the Supreme Guardian, I’m taking you into custody.”

“Sure thing, missy. I hear ya’ loud and clear!” He says, trying to laugh it off even as he dances back on his toes to keep at a safe distance. If he just maintained his cool long enough you’d eventually let your guard down. Probably. “But you’re not going to have anyone to arrest if you poke me full of holes! Say, here’s an idea. How about you put that oversized butter knife away and then we’ll talk this out, hm?”

“As if I have anything to say to the likes of you.”

“Oooh, come on. Don’t be like that.” His hapless chuckling abruptly cuts off with a not entirely feigned gulp when he backs all the way up into the wall. With nowhere else to go, Sampo can only tip his head back with a dull thump against the aged and decaying wood when you bring the end of your sword so close that he almost goes cross eyed trying to track its movement.

Sure, he’d admit you were good and evidently not the sort of person who would make the mistake of underestimating a much bigger opponent just because you had him at sword point but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t slip up eventually. He just needed to bide his time, pick his cards right and do what he always does best.

Playing the fool.

“Okay, look! I’m ever so sorry for whatever crime you think I may have committed to make you come after me like this,” He croons in his most convincing, well practiced tone of solicitation. “But I’m sure this is all just one big misunderstanding. If you’d just give me a chance to explain myself I think we’ll get this sorted out in no time and then we can both be on our merry ways. Come on! That only sounds fair, doesn’t it?”

Eyes narrowing up at him, you haughtily lift your chin as if in outright defiance of his entreatment. “You are not entitled to fairness after all the scams and cons you’ve pulled on other people, you blue demon. I’m afraid I have no pity to spare for you this time.”

“I can see that.” Sorely grumbling under his breath, Sampo drops his attention down and to the side to fix on a seemingly random spot on the floor. He can see you shifting slightly at his peripheral, restless and maybe just a little nervous now that you were face to face with the supposed scourge of Belobog. Although it was obvious you were well trained you were still just a bit too naive and trusting if you were really going to fall for that old trick.

“As long as you cooperate and don’t make this any harder than it needs to be,” You intone, indeed reading his body language as that of defeat. “Things will be much easier for you in the long run. I’ve got you cornered with nowhere to go. Just give up and come peacefully.”

Slowly taking one of your hands off the hilt, you reach back with a careful motion for something in your supplies pack. He has a few guesses what it might be, of course, but you don’t quite make it that far. Sampo spots his chance when the backward stretch of your arm pulls your gravity off center just so to make you redistribute your weight more on the left leg than the right. It’s slight enough to be almost imperceptible to the average man but average man Sampo Koski is not.

His arm snaps up to grab at your outstretched wrist like a striking serpent, your eyes going big and round when he redirects your sword away from him with a smoothly controlled jerk. Your reaction time is quick though and you start to bring your other hand back around to restore your grip. The following rush of motion happens so fast that most of it is just adrenaline fueled muscle memory on his part.

Blindly reaching for you with his opposite hand, Sampo pushes off from the wall so he can use his greater size to spin you, effectively trading places. He shoves you back with a bit more force than he’d intended to and the resulting thump makes the old rafters rattle in protest. The impact seems to force all the air from your lungs, momentarily stunning you, and he takes quick advantage of that opportunity to snag your other wrist so he can slam it back against the groaning wall. At the same time, he presses into you with his weight to fully pin you there and stop you from struggling, effectively trapping you in place.

It’s over in an instant.

Letting out a faintly shuddering breath, Sampo tips his chin down to look at your face. Glaring right back at him, you visibly gnash your teeth and try to push back on his hold with your sword hand but it’s no use. Not only is he bigger and stronger than you, but he’s heavier too. Just as he’d expected then. You were a bit too undersized to take him on.

“Guess you should have called for backup, eh?” He teases you, letting his mouth curl into a sleazy grin that just seems to further grate on your nerves, given the way you make a wild attempt to thrash yourself free.

In truth he finds it rather cute for all of five seconds until your desperate twisting brings one of your knees up a little too close to his crotch. His smile drops immediately, and he quickly wedges his thigh into the space between your legs to further limit your range of movement. Couldn’t have you incapacitating him that easily, now could he?

And the sharp gasp you pull in at the nudge delights him to no end, especially when you go stockstill between him and the wall. The startled look on your face is priceless and he can’t quite stop himself from cooing at you as he dips his head down to get a better view. Such a pretty thing for a Silvermane. It seemed a real shame that you were wasting all your time and energy putting yourself in danger for nothing more than a few cheap medals of honor. Perhaps he could change that though.

“Now, now. There’s no need for all this nonsense, is there? If you’d wanted a piece of ol’ Sampo Koski so bad, all you needed to do was ask. I’m not so cruel and cold hearted to deny a cute little thing like you.”

Even through two layers of clothes, both his and yours, he can feel the vague sensation of your pussy squeezing against his thigh. It makes his cock twitch in fast growing interest as he wonders what your cunt must look like, what it tastes like. And although it’s hard to tell through the uniform, he suspected your tits were big and juicy too, given the way they heavily shift under your clothes when you give a weak jerk against his hold. Oh, but he couldn’t wait to help himself to you.

First though … “Why don’t you go ahead and drop that sword for me, sweetheart? Hm? Be a dear, won’t you?”

“Bastard - -!”

Obviously you weren’t going to willingly give up the fight anytime soon, so he makes careful work of readjusting his hold on your wrist. Sampo’s hand greatly dwarves yours just as the rest of him does and it’s easy for him to twist it at just the right angle to make your fingers go lax. With a wordless cry from you, the blade noisily clatters to the ground which he quickly uses his other foot to kick away. Reluctantly going still, you shoot him a wary, guarded look that brings the smile back to his face.

“There. That’s much better, isn’t it? Now if you’ll just relax a little bit we can - -“

His grip on you barely eases up for a second and you’re yanking your hand free with a violent lurch to smack him right across the face. The hit itself does more to surprise him than any pain that might come with it, and his head jerks to the side with a dramatic ‘oof!’

So impressed by your gumption, he doesn’t immediately react so you have enough time to twist in his hold and slam your boot into the back of his knee. He crumples just like that, hitting the ground at your feet, but you’re quick to follow him down.

Throwing yourself across his back, you frantically grab at his arms to yank on them and he’s so bemused by the whole thing that he just lets it happen. It takes a great deal of effort on his part not to outright laugh when he was getting such a kick out of this, instead playing along with a series of lilting grunts and ‘ow, ow, ow’s that he hopes are sufficiently convincing. What an interesting woman who would choose to wrestle with a man double her size after she’d already been unarmed. He couldn’t wait to see what you’d do next.

Panting heavily, you at last manage to get his arms wrenched behind him and you dig your knee into his spine to force Sampo all the way down on the dirty floor. He can hear you fumbling with your pack as much as he feels it when you’re sitting on top of him, but this he just lets happen as well.

And with a sudden, triumphant exclamation of victory, you viciously snap a set of handcuffs around his wrists to secure them in place.

As you start to ease off him with a shuddering sigh of relief, he gives his fingers an experimental wriggle to flex his arms and test the give. Nice and tight. Ah well. It wasn’t the first or last time he was going to find himself in this predicament.

“There. I’ve got you now.” You wheeze, gingerly climbing to your feet to stand over him. Moving forward, you reach down to fist your hands in his shirt and roughly yank him up. He almost decides to give you a hard time about it but you’re doing such a good job that he doesn’t quite have the heart to make this any harder for you, so he helpfully gets one of his long legs under him so he can push himself to sit upright on the floor.

Craning his neck back, Sampo looks up at you with a sly Cheshire Cat grin although it evidently is not the kind of expression you’d been hoping for after all that. With a bothered hiss between your teeth, you bend down to shove at his broad shoulders and force him back against the wall before straightening again.

You’re still trying to catch your breath when you take a step back to survey your handiwork. Taking advantage of his first opportunity to do so, he appreciatively drags his attention over your vibrating body to take note of everything and commit it all to memory. The Silvermane uniforms were not designed for women, hence why so many altered theirs to better suit their needs and mobility, but you’d left yours almost completely unchanged. It was hard to get a good idea of the figure you were hiding underneath all the layers, but he was confident it would be good. His intuition rarely ever steered him wrong on such matters.

“So,” He says at last, keeping his tone friendly and conversational. “You’ve caught me. Congratulations. What are you going to do now?”

Shooting him a wary look, you bring a gloved hand up to wipe a bead of sweat off your cheek where it had started to run down. “What do you mean? I’m taking you back to Belobog and throwing you in jail where you belong. I’d think that should be obvious by now.”

“Eh, sure. You could do that, and I’ll even admit it would be the logical thing to do. But don’t you think there’s something else you could do instead? A far more fun and exciting secret option that I can see you haven’t thought of yet.”

Brows knitting in genuine confusion, you look down at him like he’s just sprouted a second head. “Have you gone mad? I have no idea what you’re trying to say, you big oaf.”

Allowing his grin to take on a sharper, more pointed edge, Sampo gives his shoulders a meaningful shrug as he tips his head to one side. “Ooh, are you really that naive or are you just pretending not to know what kind of position I’m in right now? Well, I’ll tell you something, little miss Silvermane Guard. You can’t fool me. I know good and well how you reacted when I had you pinned you up against the wall a moment ago and now I’m completely at your mercy. So why don’t you just help yourself? I won’t even put up a fight, promise.”

He throws you a saucy wink, and you immediately choke on a sharp intake of air as you reel back. Honestly he’d think it a bit dramatic if it weren’t for the way your expression darkens with unmistakable fluster and embarrassment, clueing him in that you weren’t simply playing up the innocent maiden schtick to keep your pride.

And his brows take a very expeditious trip up to his hairline with that realization. “Don’t tell me … you really hadn’t thought about it? Oh me, oh my, could it be you’re actually a virgin standing before me in the flesh? You poor thing.”

“O - of course not, you fiend! How dare you speak to me like this!”

“But if that’s true then … surely you must not have any problem making a wager with me, hm? I mean, if you’re so experienced and knowledgeable in the ways of the adult world there’s no way I’d win, right?”

His smirk grows when your eyes widen to the approximate size of dinner plates, just staring down at him like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming vehicle. Oh, but this was too rich. You’re doing a horrible job of pretending like you were at all comfortable with the direction this has gone and he can see his window to strike gradually revealing itself. You would have been easy enough to sucker in just about any other situation, especially for someone of his caliber, but like this? When he already had you so rattled and disoriented? This was going to be like taking candy from a baby.

“I can see I have your attention.” He goes on, speaking in a slow, confident drawl now. “How about it then? I’ll even give you the advantage by promising to only use my mouth. No hands or — other extremities, just to keep it fair.”

You look like you just might faint dead away as you surreptitiously glance down at his lap before snapping your attention back up with a wordless cry. “W - what are you even talking about? Why do you think I’m going to strike a deal with a criminal like you, Sampo Koski?”

“Ah, so you do remember my name.” He graciously inclines his chin, every bit the performer at home on his stage even for an audience of one. “And I know you’re going to strike a deal with me because I can tell just how hot and bothered you’re getting from over here. You haven’t been able to stop thinking about your pussy since I pinned you to the wall, have you? Yeah, thought so. Alright. Here’s the deal, sweetheart. Give me five minutes, that’s all I ask. Just give me a chance to rock your world and if I can't make you scream for me in that time you win. I’ll go along peacefully with you back to Belobog. You won’t even hear another peep out of me the whole way, scouts honor.”

“Wha … and if you win?”

“Then you’ll take these handcuffs off and let me use my hands for a little while.”

Squeaking shyly at the salacious waggle of his brows, you quickly turn away from him to look elsewhere. He watches you fidget and squirm for a drawn out moment, clearly wracked by indecision while he patiently waits to find out what you’ll choose. It was a bit of a gamble, sure, but he was no stranger to low odds bets and he was relatively confident you’d take the bait. After all, carting him all the way back to Belobog by yourself would be no easy task.

And just as he’d expected, the promise of having a willing captive eventually wins out against your common sense and you slowly turn back around towards him. Your eyes stay downcast, preferring to look at the floor rather than at him, but that doesn’t particularly bother him much.

Especially not when you bring your hands forward to hover at about waist level, uncertainty and nerves making you hesitate.

“Should I just …”

Breathing out a terse sigh through his nose, Sampo bumps his head back to rest against the wall with a knowing smirk. “That’s right. Slide your pants down and come here.”

You look like you’re going to back out after all for the stretch of a single heartbeat but then you seem to hastily gather your resolve, mouth settling into a firm line when you reach down to fumble with the front of your slacks. The pristine white fabric slouches around your hips as soon as you get them unfastened but you stubbornly keep them held up while you shuffle forward to stand before him.

Still smiling, Sampo inquisitively cocks his head to one side and you glare at him as if in warning before at last shoving your pants down to pool around the boots they’re tucked into. Your panties quickly follow suit to leave you bare from the waist down and nervously fussing with the bottom hem of your uniform jacket which you tug at to cover yourself. It’s plainly obvious that you’re a mess of nerves, not at all comfortable with being even partially naked in front of another like you’d wanted him to believe, but that was all right. He’d fix that soon enough.

“Closer.” He murmurs, coaxing you with a grin. “I can’t reach you like this. No hands, remember?”

You suck in a rough breath and hold it in your chest for a harrowing moment.

Abruptly squeezing your eyes shut, you yank the front of your jacket up and shuffle into the space between his bent knees to offer your cunt to him. And Sampo immediately feels his mouth start to water when he gets his first good look at you just a hair's breadth from his face.

The curls framing your pussy look soft and ticklish, a perfect place to lose himself in, and your inner thighs are soft with a welcoming pudge that begs to be squeezed. He’d have to save that for later though, and he gives his lips a quick swipe with his tongue before leaning up to dip his mouth close.

“Such a pretty girl,” He says, low and husky, to make sure you can feel his breath wafting against your skin before he actually touches you. “I don’t understand how you’ve possibly gone this long without having anyone eat you out but it’s okay. I’m here to remedy that for you. Just relax for me, alright?”

At your flustered little whimper, assuring him you were doing everything but relaxing, Sampo places a lingering kiss to the curls that pad your cunt. He takes his time with it as he slowly works his way down to the apex of your mound where the fleshy seam starts and he gets his first taste of you with a quick flick of his tongue. You jolt as if he’d just electrocuted you via static shock, swaying on your feet. But you stay right where you are, which he had to give you props for, merely squeezing your thighs as if to shut him out.

Tipping his head at an angle, he presses up into the tight, hot space to startle a mouse squeak out of you. The insistent nudge of his mouth forces you to adjust your footing for balance and you reluctantly shuffle into a wider stance as he buries his face in you. His olfactory senses are immediately overwhelmed with the smell of your cunt, your taste where it settles on the back of his tongue. Slightly bitter and salty, and yet so incredibly flavored with sweet notes of arousal that he was sure to remember it for as long as he might live.

His cock eagerly flexes in his pants to push up at the zipper as if trying to escape on its own accord while he continues to nuzzle into you, kissing and licking at fleshy lips to part them. Each lap of his tongue brings a fresh taste of you with it and he quickly realizes just how wet you really are as he worms his way into the slick crease of your body. It was clear he excited you way more than you were willing to let on and that pleases him a great deal. No wonder he’d been able to feel your pussy clenching on his thigh if this was how sensitive you were.

“Oohh, that’s - -!” You cut off with a flustered gasp when his tongue at last nudges your clit, a barely there, featherlight caress, but still more than enough to make you judder for him. How cute. He wasn’t even going to need five minutes at this rate.

Grinning into your cunt, Sampo undulates his wet tongue up to massage over that tender little button just gently enough to let you acclimate to the sensation. The last thing he wanted was to scare you off by going in too hard too fast but, to his continued delight, you warm up to it quickly enough. He can feel the shift in your body language when you start to relax into it, shyly jutting your hips out to better offer your pussy to his mouth. And you just keep getting stickier and stickier for him, saliva mixing with slippery arousal to leave your slit a mess with the viscous gossamar.

He can barely contain his own excitement when he at last starts to lick you in earnest, flicking his tongue up to swipe through fleshy creases and folds, bumping against your swollen clit head on. You beautifully jerk in response, hands fisting the bottom of your jacket into a wrinkled mess until you at last give in to the urge to reach for him.

Your fingers feel heavenly in his hair as you grab onto his head, even when they fiercely shake because of what he’s doing to you. Whining low in your throat, you again start to fidget and twist your pelvis as if to escape the onslaught of his attention and yet … you don’t actually move to pull away nor do you shove at him. You just stand there and take it while Sampo batters your poor little clit back and forth before finally sealing his lips around you to suckle.

That seems to make your knees almost give out, and you mewl a sensitive sound into the otherwise still and silent building when you weakly rock against him, clutching his hair so tight he thinks you might actually pull it out. Oh well, though. It would be well worth it once he won this little wager and got to put his hands on you.

“Oh! Nnghnn … gods, that’s …”

He suddenly pulls his head back with a loud, wet, obnoxious smack of his lips.

Chuckling softly under his breath at your frazzled whine, Sampo tips his head back to look up at you again. “Amazing? Wonderful? The best gosh darn feeling you’ve ever experienced? Well, little miss Silvermane Guard, are you still feeling so confident now?”

You shoot him a deeply embarrassed look accompanied with a soft, helpless whimper that rushes straight to his cock. It was clear enough that you didn’t know how to fully process any of this and you weren’t confident enough to take the lead either, to use him for your own pleasure like he so wished you would, but that was alright. He was keen to teach you a thing or two before this bet was finished.

“Do me a favor,” He husks, spreading his legs wider out across the floor to lessen some of the uncomfortable strain in his pants. “Turn around and back up on me. Hey, don’t look at me like that! It’s not so strange a request, is it? It’ll still feel good, I promise.”

“B - but that’s - -“

“A great idea, of course!” He cuts you off with a playful wink. “Just trust me. You won’t regret it.”

War wages across your face for a drawn out moment while you try to parse through this no doubt confusing situation. It’s a difficult thing to do though when your pussy was coated in slick and sticky saliva, begging for more attention that he wasn’t going to give you until you either complied or made him.

He would have been perfectly happy with the latter, truth be told, but ultimately the former wins out. You were just needy enough not to let common sense cloud your judgment and you stiffly disengage from him so you can shuffle back half a step.

Hands reaching down to hike up the back of your jacket as you spin around, showing off your (frankly amazing) ass, you nervously glance over your shoulder at him for further instruction. “Like this?”

“Yeah, that’s right. Now back up, and don’t be shy about it. Pretend like you’re going to sit on my face, mmkay’?”

You give him an exceedingly strange look before clearly deciding it wasn’t worth it to question him any further. He could see the flustered resignation in your expression even from where he was sitting, and he draws an anticipatory breath to brace himself when you finally start to nudge back on him.

If he’d had the use of his hands he would have been happy to yank you down and hold you in place no matter how much you squirmed and whined about it, but. Well. We can’t have everything we want in life, now can we?

Instead he has to make do with watching you slowly inch back towards him, stiff and halting even as his cock restlessly flexes inside his slacks. Unable to take the waiting any longer when you still hesitate at the last moment, he leans forward to meet you halfway and he shoves his face tight into the cradle between your legs, eliciting a startled squeak of surprise from you.

But then he opens his mouth wide, dragging his tongue from the starting dimple of your slit all the way up to your entrance where he teases you with the suggestion of penetrating you with it, and you seem to completely forget your initial reticence all at once.

Choking on a half formed moan, you blindly push back on him as you arch your back to better settle your cunt against his mouth and receive his attention. The force of it shoves his head back against the wall with a dull thud, making him groan a heavy sound into you, but it’s not near enough to deter him. Neither is the way you effectively cut off his air supply like this, making it almost impossible for him to breathe save whatever little bit he can pull in from his mouth. If anything it just fuels his own excitement to even greater heights as he hungrily laps at you now, swirling his tongue round and round your clit to leave you uncontrollably twitching against him.

And as the seconds continue to tick by in this fashion you become increasingly more fidgety and antsy until you’re all but writhing on his face with stiff, unpracticed swivels of your hips. It smears your cunt across his nose and mouth in the process, the rush that comes with it shooting straight down to his throbbing cock where it pitifully strains against the zipper, in need of a good tug or two. It probably wouldn’t have taken a whole lot to have him shooting hot ropes everywhere and he once again finds himself sorely wishing he had his hands.

But his inability to touch himself just seems to make it ache all the worse while, conversely, you appear to be enjoying yourself quite a bit despite the dire tinge in your stretched thin voice. Sampo can tell you don’t know what to do, how to make any sense of what’s happening to your body, and it just spurs him on to attack your defenseless clit with even greater ferocity.

Burn everything, he couldn’t even recall the last time he’d been this hard.

And then you say it.

A breathless, tiny little, “M - Mister Sampo!”

That’s all it takes to make him cum, his hips stiffly rolling against the floor while he creams all over the inside of his underwear. He can hardly breathe through it, grunting a masculine sound into your cunt while the sensation of his fast cooling load bleeds into the front of his pants. In truth he’s so lost in the surge of fast pumping endorphins and potent adrenaline that it takes him a prolonged beat to realize that you’re cumming too.

Crying out in pleasure, you shake and judder through your release far longer than he does, sucking in one frantic breath after another while you sensitively squeal his name for the whole building to hear. If this had been anywhere other than the old city the two of you probably would have had a couple of good Samaritan’s running to check what was going on to make a woman cry out like that and he’d quickly find himself on the sharp end of another Silvermane weapon.

But luckily you are in the old city, not Belobog, and he slouches back against the wall with a heaving groan when you finally pry yourself away from him, still twitching with the lingering remnants of your orgasm. He only needs to take one look at you, legs trembling like a newborn foal while you try to orient yourself, and he knows what he needs to do.

Recovering much quicker than you do, Sampo leans forward even when it just makes his underwear give a wet squish at the change in position and flexes his arms to test the full range of motion allotted to him by the cuffs. They don’t even budge but that wasn’t a problem. He has enough room to flick his hand up and out, summoning a small blade of wind to slice clean through the metal chain connecting the two links with a barely audible rattle.

He quickly brings his hands around and reaches for you, grabbing onto your hips before you can react or even realize what’s happening. Completely ignoring your squawk of surprise, he yanks you down into his lap to sit on his still achingly rigid cock and he curls himself over you, chuckling softly at the way you gape up at him in barefaced shock.

“W - w - wha —“

“Oh, did I forget to tell you? You’ll need something a bit stronger than that if you want to keep me locked up. Surprised?”

Keeping one arm secured around your middle, he reaches down with the other to splay his fingers across your rapidly flexing stomach and then drags it lower to dip between your legs. You gasp and twist in his hold, uselessly smacking at whatever part of him you can manage to reach, but it’s all an effort in futility. He already had you trapped in his clutches despite all the squirming, and his gloved finger takes a casual swipe through the creases of your messy cunt to make you jolt.

“Well, well, would you look at that. I’d say I won our little bet, wouldn’t you? That means I get to put my hands all over you and … other things too, isn’t that right?”

“Wait! You can’t - - nnghn!”

Tossing your head back when he finds your sopping wet entrance and pushes one finger inside to feel the stretch, you seethe up at the ceiling. He’s acutely aware of your body trying to reject it and keep him out, but you were much too slippery to stop him even when your thighs valiantly squeeze shut around his hand.

“That’s a tight fit.” He murmurs, perfectly offhand while he makes casual work of slowly thrusting his digit in and out of you. Your pussy softly clicks with the motion, so wet for him that the smooth material of his glove slides easily through your constricting passage. The only response he gets is a sharp, overwrought hiss while you halfheartedly try to shove at his arm.

It was likely too soon after your orgasm when the nerves were still vibrating and tender, so he decides to take pity on you at least for the moment. Carefully withdrawing his hand from between your legs, he instead reaches up to yank at all the buttons and latches on your jacket to get that undone too. He couldn’t wait to see those tits for himself, and not even all your fitful writhing was enough to deter him from it.

You harp at him the whole time of course but Sampo just coos at you to relax while he fumbles to get the inner thermal shirt yanked up around your neck. With his chin tucked over your shoulder he has the perfect vantage point to look down at the soft white bra that holds your breasts in place and he takes a moment to indulgently squeeze at them through the material, kneading the flesh until you finally relent with a harried moan.

Only then does he hook his finger into the band and tug it down. Realizing what he’s doing, you make a desperate attempt to swat his hand away but the moment your tits spill out into the air you violently shudder so hard it seems to temporarily immobilize you. Punchdrunk and dazed, you reluctantly allow your head to loll back against his shoulder as he sets his sights on the stiff, pebbled peaks of your nipples.

“What do you know, Sampo Koski’s intuition is always right it seems.” He murmurs, quite pleased with himself as he tweaks one of the buds to leave you moaning in his lap. “I had a feeling these were going to be nice and juicy. Are you sure no one’s ever played with these before? You look like you’re enjoying this …”

You give a weak, faltering little mewl in response, tense fingers digging into his forearm where you’re clutching onto him for dear life. Chuckling a husky sound into your neck, he nuzzles against you to kiss and nip at the vulnerable skin there before slowly working his way up. Still idly toying with your nipples, pinching and pulling at them, he brushes his mouth across your cheek to finally claim those kissable lips for himself.

And you let him do it, groaning hotly into his mouth while he kisses you deeply and lays total claim on your person. There isn’t an inch of you that he won’t have touched by the time he was done, and the knowledge that he was undeniably going to be your first fills him with a sick sense of pride. The signs were all there, even if he did tease you contrarily. And oh, how he was going to wreck you for any other man. It would always be him who you thought of, comparing everyone else to the so-called crook who so expertly turned your own body against you on the floor of an abandoned building in the old city, and wasn’t that just the greatest punchline of all?

“Are you gonna’ be good for me?” He says at last when he carefully reaches under you to unfasten his pants, lips brushing yours as he speaks. “Gonna’ let this dirty old man have his way with you, right here, right now? Just like this? Hm?”

Lost in the stupor of your arousal, you blithely nod for him even as a brief flash of uncertainty crosses your face. It seemed that some part of you understood his intention, the full brunt of the implication of what he was about to do to you, but you were too far gone to stop it and it was already much too late. Sampo has his cock fished out and he pauses only long enough to give it a perfunctory tug, smearing his own spend over the length of it to help lubricate the way.

Angling it up, he blindly nudges through your soaked cunt until he feels the dip of your entrance, so wet and creamy against his tender glans it makes him suck in a slow breath. You go ramrod stiff in his hold, lurching forward as much as you can with his forearm still locked around your middle while your hands frantically ball into his jacket sleeves. There was no escaping it though, not in the wholly defenseless position he’s got you in, and you wordlessly cry out when he starts to push up.

A rattling breath puffs out of him as your pussy slowly spreads open around him, granting him entry to your body. The overwhelming heat of you accompanied by the too tight squeeze makes him glad for his first orgasm, premature though it may have been, because he isn’t so sure he could have held it back otherwise. Your guts are alive around him as he gradually sinks deeper and deeper into you, aided by the help of gravity. Vulnerably curled up on his lap like this, the only thing you can do is take it.

And you do take him, beautifully in fact. Every inch of his cock gradually slides into the tight embrace of your inner sleeve until he at last settles against the end of you with nowhere else to go. You wail a pitiful sound at the pressure that pushes in on your organs and choke on a tiny little sob as your trapped legs futilely kick at the air. It wouldn’t have helped much even if your pants weren’t tangled around them though, not when Sampo already had you fully impaled on him.

That'd been the deal, right?

Well, maybe it hadn’t been stated out right but that should teach you not to make deals with shady businessmen or Fool’s.

Rumbling a low sound of pleasure as he slides his hand around, caressing over the faint bulge created by his cock through your lower stomach, Sampo nuzzles at your face again to get your attention. He wanted to make sure you weren’t drifting off to la-la land on him, and when you tip your head to blearily glance up at him with a deep felt shudder, he allows himself a sly smile.

“Let me hear you scream my name again, pretty girl.” He purrs, narrow hips bracing to angle out of you so he can slam back in. “And don’t forget the ‘mister’ either. I think I rather liked how that sounded.”

⭐

Crossposted: here

#honkai star rail #hsr #sampo koski #sampo x reader #self insert bullshit

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spdrvyn · 1 year ago

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parched P2 — MIGUEL O'HARA

(( here's the part 2 that i mentioned in the last one !! this isn't explicit, however it is steamy, legally i shouldn't be writing explicit stuff anyway so sorry to the horny horny miguel fans out there. spoiler-free as usual ))

READ PART 1 HERE.

Whatever Miguel couldn't say in words, he'd express in actions.

He's always been like that, when you first met him, when you first started falling in love with him, when you first started dating him. Right now, it was when he was on top of you. Whispering sweet nothings into your ear, kissing every inch of you.

You were well aware of the fact that he's lacked such a gentle, loving touch for most if not all of his life. After all, he didn't seem like the biggest sap when you two were only knew each other as acquaintances.

He kept to himself most of the time when he was with you, he didn't normally engage in it unless you initiated it first. A hand at his bicep, his shoulder, his cheek.

Oh, how badly he wanted to hide that he needed it. Needed you.

Slowly but surely, he started feeling comfortable laying more than a single finger on you. Whenever he walked you home, a hand at the small of your back. Wiping stray bits of food on your mouth whenever you ate lunch together. The little things, it drove you crazy.

Your chest swelled with pride at the thoght of how far he's come, letting his guard down around you.

Not forgetting that ever since he finished 'getting fixed up', he was all over you. Smothering you with kisses, letting you sink further and further into the sheets and pillows.

"Missed this, missed you so much, amor." He uttered, his hand tangled in your hair. Tugging on it occasionally to pull you closer and closer to him, as if you weren't already. "Don't even want to think about what it was like out there. Dios, se sentía como el infierno."

At this point, you had a hard time telling if something really bad happened at work or if this is just him being needy. However, you didn't want to pry. It was clear that he was enjoying himself.

Really enjoying himself from how, once again, you felt something sharp sink into the crook between your shoulder and neck. Wincing, you whine at him. He revels in it.

"Not even one hour has passed of coming home to me and you're already trying to leave a mark." You pout, as to which he responds with a wolfish grin. "Sorry, sorry. Just can't help it sometimes. You're delectable."

Fangs really weren't something that you thought that you'd be into. Not like you've really encountered anyone with fangs in your life, Miguel was the first one. The first time you cracked a joke with him, he laughed. You got a glimpse of the canines that peeked through his gums, yet it didn't terrify you. As shameful as he used to be of them when he revealed his occupation to you.

Now, it felt like he used them daily, on you to be more specific. Like you were a staple and he was a stapler remover, which was silly but an accurate description of what it was like.

As he normally does, he decides to rub it in.

"But at the same time, don't act like you don't enjoy them. I can basically see the look on your face whenever I leave one. On your neck."

He punctured the skin, a little to draw blood. Which made you gasp, moving to scold him until he holds your arm down. Cutting you off.

"Your shoulder."

He moves down, kissing you as he does so. Before he bites down again, a little harder. Rougher this time.

"Your thighs."

The thumping of your heart is drumming in your ears as he hooks your thighs over his shoulders, massaging the soft flesh with his fingers before leaving two very prominent bite marks on them now.

He licks the blood clean off of his lips, coming back up to you with a smirk. His thumb caresses your chin as you stare at him. "Ah, that face. That's the one I'm talking about, mi vida."

You still have no idea what he's saying, before you could even delve deeper into it. He captures your lips with a soft chuckle.

Guess you'll never know.

#i like my dilfs with a little bit of fang #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara fluff #fluff #romance #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #spiderman: across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #atsv

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wri0thesley · 2 years ago

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home - hawks x reader (6.7k)

you miss him when he's not here.

cw: not sfw. reader is afab but no gendered language is used. chubby reader, insecurities mentioned. established relationship. possessive hawks. blood, injury (mild). cunnilingus, scratching, biting, multiple orgasms.

this was a commissioned work.

There are drawbacks to being a Pro Hero’s partner.

Oh, there are some positives, too - the nice things that you get sent, sometimes, in the hopes that you’ll post them on social media and the business in question will get some extra footfall from being papped on the significant other of the more popular Pro Heroes (putting aside the occasional frustration of paparazzi always tailing you, the free clothes and free tech and free gear and free meals are very nice). The fact that Keigo has a sizable fortune that he mainly uses to make sure that you and he have the best life he can provide. The swell of pride that rises in your chest when you think about him, and all of the lives he has saved, all of the people who are grateful for him.

The sunshine in Keigo’s face, too, when a small child tells him how much they look up to him - how they want to be just like him. The money that is funneled back by Keigo into charitable institutions for children. The fact that you’re doing a small part of good in the world despite your reasonably useless quirk (making flowers bloom at a touch is only useful when the flowers are not yet in season, after all - it’s a quirk that you can use maybe three months out of the year, and you’ve noticed flowers don’t seem to last any longer just because you’ve grazed them with your fingertips) by making Keigo happy, the way he deserves to be.

But there are plenty of negatives.

Those same paparazzi who sell photographs of you and Keigo to gossip magazines and comment on your appearance, your hair if it’s messy, your figure that you’re already not all that confident in. The online gossip-mongers who spend their time bemoaning how much of a better fit they’d be for a man like Keigo, if he’d just stop ‘pitying’ you enough to date you.

The nights you spend stroking Keigo’s hair as he buries his head in your neck and all of the ugliest parts of his job fall out of his mouth; the fear of being a pawn for the HPSC for the rest of his life, the things he’s asked to do that remain secret except in whispered gasps into your ear, his hands clinging to you so tightly you think about talons puncturing your skin. The long, long nights when he’s out doing hero work and you fear that he may never come back to you. The way time stretches interminably on when he says he’ll be gone for a little while and you don’t know if it will be days or weeks or months.

You wouldn’t trade anything for him. Keigo makes you feel seen and beautiful and loved and cherished in a way no other person could ever compare to. You get butterflies when he smiles at you. You cannot imagine a life in which you did not find each other, somehow.

But tonight, your bed in Keigo’s penthouse (big glass windows, so he can feel like he’s flying - a huge bed, with room for his wings) is empty and cold. You wear a too-big ‘Hawks’s Baby Bird’ nightshirt that falls down to your knees, a gag gift from one of your friends who is a member of your boyfriend’s fan club. The little cartoon depiction of him is not enough to make you feel as though he is there with you.

Tonight feels like one of those nights that might last forever.

You roll over in the bed uncomfortably, legs tangling in cool sheets that you wish were warmed by your partner. The space seems to stretch on for an eternity without Keigo’s wings there for you to good-naturedly grouse about as he laughs and pulls you in even closer.

You think not hearing anything might be the worst.

You know what he does is important, you know that he doesn’t always tell you where he’s going because he’s worried about you - you know that being shrouded in secrecy is better for both of you. But not knowing where he is or who he’s with or what he’s doing makes all kinds of worrying scenarios play out in your head as you wonder if you’ll ever see him again, or if the last time you kissed him on the cheek and told him to be careful (and he looked at you with all of the love in the world lighting his gold eyes, his gaze saying far more than his easy laugh and his promise he would come back) would be the last time.

Ugh. You flop onto your back and stare up at the ceiling.

Maybe you should try making yourself a hot drink; distract yourself from the thoughts swirling around your mind and the loneliness that’s eating at your edges. That sounds nice. You swing your legs over the side of the comically oversized mattress, the soft hem of your nightshirt riding high on your thighs - and then you hear a familiar sound, and your heart feels like it swells to double its size in your chest.

You quickly walk from the bedroom into the lounge, following the sound of beating wings and displaced air and something clinking against glass. There, on the balcony outside, stands Keigo - still in his hero costume, red wings in the process of being tucked behind him, keys tinkling in his hand.

Through the window, he catches sight of you - and his smile is so wide it could split his face in two, eyes crinkling at the edges. He fumbles even quicker with the keys, eager to get inside and back to you - and you walk across the room, your feet warm on the cold tiled floor, to meet him.

Up close, you can see that the night has not been kind to him.

Despite the smile that lights up his eyes and transforms his face, there are grazes all over his face; a rip in his hero costume at the sleeve, where he’s bleeding a little. His wings seem fine, but high on the left wing the feathers are bent out of shape and uneven as if he narrowly avoided trapping it somewhere. Your stomach drops somewhere in the region of your feet - and then, Keigo is through the window and it’s clinking closed behind him and you are embraced by all of him, all red feathers and fur jacket and arms wrapping so tightly around you that you can barely breathe.

“Keigo,” your voice comes out in a choked squeak. “Keigo, you’re hurt--!”

“I’m so glad to see you,” he mumbles into the crook of your neck, his normally light tone heavy with emotion. “I missed you so so much. I . . . I thought I might not see you ever again--”

His gloved hands cling to your generous hips, squishing into the soft flesh there, dragging you against him. He noses against your neck, breathing in your scent, as if he’s trying to reassure himself that you’re real and true and there.

“Let me look at your injuries--” You try to say, but Keigo instead pulls you into a searing kiss that makes your knees feel weak. Despite his relatively small stature - compared to most other Pros, anyway - he trains long and hard, and he pulls you into him as if you weigh nothing at all, the softness of your curves and pudge not presenting the smallest of problems. His mouth is hot and beseeching against yours; this is a kiss that says ‘I am alive, and I thought I wouldn’t be’. Fear is still rolling hot through your stomach, but it’s hard not to melt into him when he knows every spot of your mouth and every nerve of your lips as well as he knows his own. His teeth nip needily at your lower lip and you open your mouth for him - let his tongue mark you out as his, sliding across that spot behind your front teeth that makes you full-body shiver in his arms.

It doesn’t seem to matter to him that the two of you are in full view of the windows (not that any paparazzi would be fool enough to try and photograph from here, after the last time) - all that matters is that the two of you are entwined, that Keigo is there and you are there. His hands slide down your hips to knead at the soft globes of your ass, a motion that’s meant to be teasing but instead simply feels desperate.

You break apart from him with a gasp, your heart beating frantically against your ribcage.

“Keigo,” you say, hoping you sound more sure of yourself than you feel. “I need to clean your w-wounds.”

He looks at you all half-lidded and wanting, his mouth swollen from the kiss - actually, you don’t think his gaze has strayed from you once since he first laid eyes on you.

“I needed to kiss you,” he says to you, and he cracks a small smile that doesn’t quite mask the wildness in his eyes. “I needed to remember exactly what you were like. Remind myself you were mine, birdie.”

“The kiss could have waited,” you say, exhaling in a way that’s part laugh and part exhaustion. “You’re hurt.”

One gloved hand raises to your face; his thumb strokes over your cheek. The smile on his face is so sad and so wanting that it makes you ache.

“I could never wait to kiss you,” he says. “Not a second longer than I have to.”

You tug gently on his sleeve; there’s dirt all over the tan fabric. You wonder what happened to him on this mission, but you don’t ask - Keigo never wants you to have to worry about things. He keeps you as safe as he can - makes sure you can work from home, insists that if he can’t go shopping with you groceries are delivered . . . on another person, it might be suffocating. But on Keigo . . .

He hasn’t told you much about his life pre-Wing Hero: Hawks. Still, he has told you more than almost anybody else in the whole world knows, and you understand why he clings to the vestiges of a home he’s managed to build around himself. It’s hard not to be flattered that he considers you home - and you, in return, feel exactly the same way about him.

“Come on,” you say to him, a little more forcefully this time, and you give him a gentle smile so he doesn’t feel like he’s worrying you too much. “Let me clean these scratches and get your uniform off, and I promise you can kiss me as much as you like for as long as you like.”

He lets out a soft laugh but lets himself be tugged across the room anyway.

“My uniform off?” He asks, lightly teasing, the edge of desperation slowly ebbing away now that he is with you and knows you are safe. “Why, birdie, you’ve only gotta ask! Little forward, but I’m not gonna complain--”

You roll your eyes at him, but laugh all the same, as the two of you enter the kitchen and you bully him lovingly into taking a seat on one of the stools by the long breakfast bar. You reach up onto your toes to reach the first-aid kit kept in one of the high kitchen cupboards, feeling the hem of your shirt rise up to reveal the thin red satin underwear you wore to bed--

“Are those Hawks brand, too?” Keigo asks. You can’t see him, but you can just imagine the shit-eating grin that’s painted itself over his face. “Look, I know you want me to stay still whilst you tend lovingly to me, but you’re making this really difficult--”

“Shh,” you tell him, turning around with the little metal tin tucked beneath your arm. “You’re just trying to get out of the antiseptic swabbing, aren’t you?”

It takes you by surprise how quickly he’s shed his garments. You suppose that speed is his greatest asset, but still - you’d heard only a little rustling, and yet Keigo is suddenly sat behind you totally shirtless with his uniform discarded on the stool beside him. You can see almost all of him; the lean muscles of his pectorals, dotted with old scars - the corded forearms, the surprisingly strong hands . . .

You’re grateful to see that the wounds and scratches are only surface-level. They’ll need cleaning and bandaging up a little, but that’s all - he’s not at risk of any infections, doesn’t need to go see any healers or hospital workers. You’re glad - you don’t want him to be out of your sight for any longer than he has to be now that you finally have him back for a while.

You cough as you rifle through the medical kit for anti-bacterial wipes, feeling your face heat up at his proximity and his nakedness. Keigo laughs softly, angling his body closer to you.

“You’re cute when you’re nervous,” he says to you, his voice low and soft. “C’mon. See something you like?”

“Could you stop flirting for one second?” You ask him, as you wipe over one of the nasty grazes on his arm - you don’t think you could look into those golden eyes right now without falling into them like molten pools. “I need to get this cleaned up.”

“You’d be flirting if the prettiest thing in the whole world was touching your naked body,” Keigo says to you, reasonably; and he laughs again when you fumble with the bandage you’re trying to affix to the spot in question. “C’mon. You’re even wearing my merch! How’m I supposed to just sit here and let you look after me when I’m thinking about pinning you to the breakfast bar and having my wicked way with you, huh?”

“Have your wicked way with me when I’m done,” you tell him, and now you have no choice but to turn your hand to the grazes on his cheek - and looking at Keigo’s pretty face takes your breath away in the same way it always does. His eyes are liquid gold, burning you as you gently wipe the blood from his sharp cheekbones. At the touch of your fingers on his face, he takes a sharp intake of breath - and one strong hand lands on the outside of your thigh, thumb pressing softly into the skin there. Your own breath stutters in your chest.

There’s a bloom of heat low in your core, to be looked at like that. Possession and adoration and hunger all mixed up in his gaze, your own body screaming at you that Keigo wants you and you want him and everything else should be thrown to the wayside in pursuit of the pleasure the two of you are clearly longing for.

He breathes out after a moment that feels like it lasts a week, and his voice has dropped a semitone into something rich and low and starving hungry.

“You’re nearly done now, right?” He asks, swallowing, the bob in his throat visible. “I’m not sure how much longer I can stop myself.”

You do not break eye contact as you drop the gauze, as you close the lid of the first-aid kit.

“I’d think a Pro Hero would have more control,” you say to him breathily. “Stop yourself from doing what, exactly?”

He smiles up at you with a wickedness that makes you weak at the knees, and you feel all of your concern about his grazes and bruises and the feathers that have been bent and ruffled in his wings melt away in favour of the persistent pounding in your core.

He moves lightning-fast; utterly deserving of all of his accolades, and before you know it you’re pressed against the breakfast bar, your ass pressed flush against the rim of the surface, and Keigo has dropped down onto his knees.

“Stop myself from eating you all up, birdie,” he says, with a grin bright and hungry, as he presses his nose softly against the plumpness of your thighs. “You’re looking delicious, and I’m starving after being away for so long. Won’t you let a guy have a taste?”

You gasp as he moves his face; as his nose nudges at your mound through the Hawks branded underwear. He breathes in deeply, savouring the scent of you on the air.

“I can tell you want it too,” he teases you. “I can smell you from here. That’s how I know how delicious you’re going to be.”

“Keigo,” you breathe out lightly, but there is no complaint in your tone. Your boyfriend takes this the way it is; your consent for him to do whatever he wants to you, and his smile is knife-sharp in the darkness as his fingers hook into the elastic of the underwear and slowly begin to edge them down your legs.

“Spread for me, angel,” Keigo murmurs, dropping a kiss just above your knee, peppering the skin he can currently get to with more feather soft touches of his lips. “Show me how much you want it. Let me see you; I’ve missed you. Feels like a century when I don’t see you for a day.”

You fall over yourself to please him. You’ve missed him just as much; too deeply for you to care if you seem desperate, when you spread your legs further and let him see the wet mess between your legs. Keigo’s eyes go half-lidded and wanting as he trails the pad of one of his fingers up your thigh to dip between the lips of your sex and into your slick.

“Look at you, pretty birdie,” he says, low and awestruck. “This is all for me? Aren’t I the lucky one? Aren’t you just the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen?”

Your face heats up at the compliments; Keigo is never shy about giving them, of course, but when the position is so intimate and he looks so fascinated it’s hard not to feel woozy with the want that drips off every syllable. Keigo moves his face closer; kisses at the plump spill of your very inner thighs, where they’re damp with your own arousal. Teeth bite into the flesh gently, nipping at you until you gasp.

“Y-you were being serious about eating me up, then?” You ask, a huff of laughter on your lips, as Keigo shifts his attentions to the other thigh, sucking love bites into the soft flesh.

“Just making sure you know you’re mine,” he says, breathless. “Marking you up so you know who you belong to. After I’ve eaten you up, I’ll get on to eatin’ you out--”

He kisses over your sex this time; his breath fanning hot against your most sensitive parts. Your knees almost buckle, and you have to cling to the rim of the breakfast bar to stop yourself from just falling onto him completely. You feel a couple of well-placed breaths away from collapsing onto the floor.

“Is that a . . . a promise?” You ask him, and Keigo chuckles and the vibrations seem to travel from between your legs and right up your spine.

“For you?” He murmurs, and his tongue darts out - laps up your cunt from perineum to clit, and you swear you see stars. “Of course it is.”

Once Keigo has had a taste of you, there’s nothing you can do. You know it from past experience sprawled out on the bed beneath him as he works you over until you’re putty in his hands - when he wants someone, when he wants something, when something is his and it’s his responsibility . . . he will not rest until he’s wrung several orgasms out of you and you can barely move. The kitchen is a brand new development for this kind of thing, but Keigo is more than a little possessive and when you’ve murmured in the heat of the moment about christening every surface in his apartment it’s always gotten him going--

So it’s all you can do, really, to let him eat you out like he’s a man starved and he’s having his final meal before his untimely end.

To let your fingers curl around the rim and to give yourself into Keigo’s mouth as it hotly works you over; his tongue dragging through your folds as if he’s trying to drink you in. Your own mouth falls open as your breath escapes you in little surprised gasps; it seems that for every slow lap of his tongue, he manages to do some kind of swirling trick of athletics that makes you feel like you’re melting into a pleasured mess.

In between the licks and the sucks, he turns his attention back to the soft fullness of your thighs; drops little growling interludes of;

‘Mine’. ‘So beautiful’. ‘So good’. ‘You’re mine’. ‘Mine, mine, mine’.

Kisses and bites and licks and mumbles, the soft abrasive scratch of his scruff making you dizzy and light-headed as you feel all of the pleasure that he brings you work itself into tight knots in your stomach. Sometimes he bites just a little too hard, as if he wants to ensure that the mark takes - and though on another partner, you might push him away, with Keigo it’s hard to not just let your lashes flutter and a soft moan escape at the thought of just how much he wants you to be his.

There’s something to be said about having the mark of ownership of a man like Keigo upon your skin.

He rubs his cheeks against your thighs, uncaring of how your slick is fair dripping from your sex; covering himself in your scent the same way he tries to cover you in his own. You’ve heard him complain when you switch shower gels or perfumes or shampoos; you know he can’t get enough of the natural scent of you. He never cares about cuddling up to you when you feel sweaty or gross - in fact, a couple of times, you’ve thought that it really gets him going--

It’s getting much harder to think the longer Keigo uses his mouth on you.

It’s hard to think of anything other than the sensation of his tongue, the prickling pleasant heat that’s running through your veins, the groans of pleasure that he keeps putting forth with every new lap and suck and kiss of your clit. Your fingers twitch, your thighs shaking wildly, as you hover on the precipice of your orgasm.

“That’s right, beautiful,” he murmurs softly. “Come on. Come for me.”

There’s no question of doing anything but.

Your entire body goes taut all over, like a string waiting to be plucked - and then snaps, as your orgasm washes over you in fierce waves, making your body tingle like fireworks are being set off beneath your skin. You don’t try to muffle your noises - Keigo had coached that out of you with kisses and begging and telling you how much he loves hearing you - so soft whimpers and moans come issuing forth from your mouth, bouncing against the kitchen walls. Keigo makes his own noise in response; a coaxing kind of reassurance that you can let yourself go with him, you’re safe. His mouth is still pressed against your sex, though, his tongue still drinking in the slick you’re pumping out with every clench and pulse of your release.

He stays there even as the orgasm slowly subsides and feeling returns to your extremities. You’re sensitive, your thighs shaking - and Keigo chuckles, pulling back and looking up at you with his eyes all blown with adoration.

“I’ve missed the way you taste,” he tells you, tone teasing. “I’ve missed the way you sound, too. I’ve missed . . . all of that.”

“I’ve missed you more,” you say to him breathlessly. “A-are you going to let me repay the favour?”

Keigo laughs again, and the sound makes happiness bloom in your chest.

“No,” he says, sounding very sure of himself. “I’m not done with you yet, birdie. I need to make sure that every perfect inch of you remembers me; I need to make sure that you’re always with me, that you’re imprinted onto every part of me, that you know just how much I love you and I need you and that I can remember every part of you with my eyes closed--”

Your cheeks are hot at this profession of adoration. It’s not that Keigo is shy about these things - he said ‘I love you’ before you did - but . . . he’s not always prone to these big, grand gestures. He holds your hands and pulls you close and keeps you next to him, plays with your hair and remembers your favourites and checks in on you to make sure everything is alright as often as he can. Love story confessions are not his style--

And that’s how you know that he means every single syllable.

“Th-that’s not fair,” you say weakly, as Keigo takes your hand and tugs you through the apartment instead, a mirror of you taking him into the kitchen to clean his wounds. “I want to do all that for you too--!”

“Ah, but you didn’t get to saying it before me, did you?” He shoots you a broad grin, pulling you into the bedroom. The sheets on your huge bed are still rumpled; he raises one eyebrow. “Not sleep well without me, birdie?”

“You know I never do,” you whisper, and his face goes impossibly soft. He pulls you closer to him, pressing his nose against your own so that the two of you are staring directly into one another’s eyes.

“I love you,” he says, plain and simple. His hands go to touch your hips, to slide up to your waist and to your chest, his touch reverent like a sculptor and his masterpiece. “I love everything about you. If it were up to me, I’d spend every waking minute with you - I��d never let you leave our bed. We’d have everything we need. I . . .” He swallows. “I want to be with you forever.”

“I want to be with you forever, too,” you breathe out - you bring your hand up to stroke over his shoulders, to delicately curve over the musculature in his back to where his wings stand proudly out. He lets out a soft noise of pleasure at the soft touch of your fingers on the downy feathers at the base, his cheeks going pink.

“Then let me take care of you,” Keigo murmurs, softly. “Let me come inside of you so many times you don’t remember what it feels like to have anything inside of you but me.” He takes a shuddering breath - and despite your earlier orgasm, your breath catches and your pulse beats between your thighs as if it’s agreeing that he can do whatever he wants with you. “Please.”

“Keigo--”

“Say I can, birdie.”

His touch gets desperate. His thumbs dig into the soft meat of your waist, the plump pudge there. You make the mistake of flickering your eyes away from his gaze, to between you and below your eye line, to see the way that his cock is tenting the front of his pants in need. You think about Keigo’s cock - about how it feels inside of you, about how perfectly it fills you up, about the sensation of having him come inside and keep going, keep pumping himself into you--

“Keigo,” you breathe, eyes flicking back up to him. “Of course you can.”

As much as you want to get on your knees for him and bring him the same pleasure he’s already brought you today, you can tell that this means a lot to Keigo - and so you’re not surprised when he groans out loud and pulls you back into a fierce kiss. Your lips are nibbled on, your tongue danced with, your entire body dragged into a kiss that Keigo puts every muscle into - until he pulls back, breathless.

“Can we get this off you now?” He asks, tugging at your nightshirt. “Kind of weird to be looking at myself right now, even if I do look very cute as a cartoon--”

You laugh as you pull the dark red cotton over your head. You have a brief moment of doubt - that same flash that comes across you every time you fully disrobe in front of Keigo, a voice in your head saying that you’re not good enough or pretty enough for him - but it’s a doubt that Keigo quickly dispels as he pushes you back onto the bed and begins to pepper every inch of your newly exposed skin with bites and kisses.

“I love these,” he murmurs, palming at your chest with rough calloused hands, plucking your nipples between thumb and forefinger until they stand to stiff attention. “They’re so pretty.” A pinch, and you whine, back arching. “And so sensitive--!”

His tongue follows the path of his fingers, swirling around the nipple and sucking on it with a soft pop until you’re whining even louder, spreading your thighs apart for him in a silent plea to get on with it.

“You’re being needy,” he tells you, with a bite to the swell of your breast that you can tell will leave a bruise. “And I love it. Ask me nicely, pretty birdie--”

“Please fuck me, Keigo,” you say, breathless with need and want and the dizzying desire to have him inside of you. “Please, I want you inside of me--”

He kisses you fiercely again; fabric is displaced lower down his body as he works his trousers off without for a moment breaking the contact of your two lips. His cock slaps against the roundness of your tummy, leaving wet precome in a smear over your navel - hard and long, stiff and aching to find anchor in your port.

“You have no idea what hearing you say that does to me,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. “Spread wider, angel, alright?”

You obey him, spreading your thighs so wide that it’s almost painful.

The two of you have had to experiment with positions many times - Keigo’s wings provide an interesting challenge for ensuring that both of you are comfortable. Even now, in this simplest of positions, his wings make a canopy over you and give a soft red-warm glow to everything beneath them. Keigo smiles at you so softly that it feels like melting, and then his cock is nudging the lips of your sex apart and slowly slowly slowly sinking inside of you.

It’s gratifying, to finally be full. His tongue felt good, but there’s a kind of intimacy in this that it can’t replicate - a feeling that the two of you are melding together, hearts beating as one. Keigo’s eyes flutter closed, a soft sigh escaping his pretty mouth.

“You have no idea how you feel,” he chokes out. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you--”

“You feel like home,” you say to Keigo, and he whines and sheathes himself fully inside of you.

His arms wrap around you, pulling you up so you’re not just laid directly on the bed. His nails - fingers a little sharp, like talons - rake down your back, scratching into you, as he gets used to feel of you hot and tight and wet around him. The two of you are both panting, your own arms wrapping around his neck so you’re as close to him as you can possibly be.

He crashes his lips against yours at the same time as he begins to move his hips in hungry little circles. He isn’t yet fucking in and out of you in wild abandon, but this is still overwhelming after being without him for a few nights and forgetting all of the places inside of you that are stoked like a brand new fire by his cock, stretching you out. You move your hips against him in tiny increments, his abdomen rubbing against your swollen clit in a way that sends pleasant little frissons of electricity up and down your spine.

The electric mixes with the scratches of Keigo’s hands, an overwhelming symphony of sensation that is at once too much and not enough. You lose track of time - you lose track of anything but the feel of Keigo inside of you, the pleasure of being stretched and fucked and taken and knowing you are loved.

His lips against yours, his words against your ear with whispers of how much he loves you and how beautiful you are and how good you are for him. Your own words, coming out slurred and breathless as you both chase your orgasms, wanting to crest that hill together.

“Keigo,” you’re whimpering. “Keigo, Keigo, Keigo.” Chants of his name spilling out of your lips like prayer beads, prayers that he drinks up with his kisses and his own soft entreaties of your name.

“I’m going to--”

“I want you to--”

“Fill me up, please--”

“Fuck--”

You both lose track of who is actually the one speaking; the words come out in a spill that’s mirrored by the twitch of your thighs and the coil of heat in your stomach. Your orgasm hits you like a train, and your fingers curl into Keigo’s short hair at the same time as he digs his teeth into the soft place where your neck meets your shoulders and his cock pulses inside of you, spilling his seed into your sex, marking you out as his. Your own release gushes over his cock, your cunt clenching around him as you pant and whimper. You’re light-headed and dizzy as you chase your aftershocks, gyrating your hips on his softening cock to eke out every last drop of pleasure you can. Keigo’s hands stay on you, sliding to the small of your back, encouraging you as he sucks and kisses on the bitemarks and lets his own pants fill the air.

The comfortable silence that follows your releases lasts only a moment.

He’s come inside of you once, and your body feels full and satiated with your own orgasm, but that’s not enough for Keigo. Even as he pulls out, his cock is already hardening again, a soft groan falling from his mouth as it slaps against the soft flesh of your inner thighs.

“Tell me I can fuck you again,” he murmurs. “I want you to be full of me, birdie. I want you to be dripping with my come for weeks. I need t’fill you up so bad--”

You manage to screw up all of your left-over energy - not that there was much of it - to roll over, gathering yourself up on your hands and knees, spreading your legs further apart and balancing yourself on your elbows. It’s a position the two of you have used often, made all the more comfortable by Keigo’s expensive bed. It means that you don’t have to do much more work than stay there and thrust your hips back into him - and, crucially, it means that Keigo gets so deep inside of you that you swear you feel him in your stomach.

“Yes,” Keigo breathes, already gathering himself up onto his knees. He drops kisses onto the places on your shoulder blades and spine he scratched earlier, soft feather-light whispers of how much he adores you. “Fuck, angel--”

He fits inside of you like a glove; your earlier exertions making him slide inside of you so easily you barely feel the stretch. Your fingers clench into the sheets as you moan out a prayer that sounds like his name, as Keigo continues to drop wet messy kisses all over you. He’s rambling now, about how beautiful you look like this and how good you feel.

“I should fuck you on every surface in the house,” he whispers, as he begins to work his hips back and forth, sliding easily into a rhythm. “I should christen every single one of them, so it feels like home--”

“Okay,” you breathe in return, moving your hips as much as you can. You’re going to come again, you realise, embarrassingly quickly. He just feels so deep inside of you - like there is no end to where he starts or you begin, like there’s nothing in the universe but the two of you and the places you’re joined. One of his hands slaps over yours, holding it as best he can in the position you’re in.

“I need to fill you up,” he’s panting. “I need you . . . need you to be mine, need you to know how much I love you, need you need you need you--”

“I need you,” you reply, in a whimper that feels like a sob as he adjusts his hips just so and oh, the spots he hits inside of you with every thrust . . . You feel born anew again; like this is the first time Keigo has fucked you and you’re as sensitive as a virgin. You squeeze your eyes closed. “I need you more-- please fill me up, I want to be yours, please please please--”

“Say my name,” Keigo begs into your ear, the words broken up with pants. “Say you love me.”

“K-Keigo--!” Your voice pitches as your orgasm clenches all up inside of you. You feel yourself tighten around him. The feeling of him inside of you, the wet glide of his cock, the sting of the bites and scratches from your earlier extremely enthusiastic love-making, all converging together until you can do nothing but let the white hot feeling take you over completely. “I l-love you--”

A moaning whimpering groan of your name, and the two of you are coming together. Keigo’s cock is twitching inside of you, spilling more thick ropes of his come as deep into you as he can to join his earlier load. You moan as you feel it trickle down your thighs, as he fucks it in deeper chasing the aftershocks of his orgasm and your body collapses into a jelly-like mass of nothing but feeling. Keigo lets you collapse and follows you down, breathless laughs turning into moans as you lie there for a few moments sweating and panting in the afterglow of your lovemaking.

It takes a little while for the two of you to disentangle yourself fully; for Keigo’s cock to pop out of you (followed by a little rush of your mixed fluids), for him to drag your sweat-soaked body against him without caring for how you must be messing up the sheets.

“I love you too,” he says, a belated reply to your call as you’d come. Your face goes hot at the reminder.

You curl up against his chest shyly, cheek pressed to his beating heart. Your fingers come up to trace patterns over his skin, and he makes a noise low in his throat almost like a chirp, pleasure at your touch melding with the pleasure of what has transpired between you both. He’s always a little more bird-like in this state; relaxed and sated and happy.

A phone rings somewhere in the distance, and he groans. Eyes fluttering shut.

“It’s in my pocket,” he mumbles in annoyance. “It’ll be the Commission.”

You make a soft noise of displeasure at the Hero Commission already wanting to monopolise his time when it feels like he’s been home for an hour or two at most.

“I’d hoped we’d have a bit longer this time,” you say, and you hope that you don’t sound petulant. You don’t want to resent Keigo’s job! You know he’s one of the top heroes for a reason! But curled up in bed, it’s hard to reconcile Wing Hero: Hawks and Keigo, your boyfriend, your lover, your home. You want longer with him. You want to keep him for yourself.

His mouth twists. Resolutely, he wraps his arms back around you.

“We will,” he says, as he continues to ignore the ringing. “We’ll have more time. They can wait a day. I still have more things I want to do to you.”

“Unfair,” you say, hiding your smile in his chest. “It’s my turn to do things to you.”

He laughs and presses a kiss on the top of your head. The scratches and bruises and bites from your earlier exertions sting pleasantly; a reminder of home, a reminder of Keigo, a reminder of belonging.

“Okay,” he says, with a faux sigh. “It’ll be a challenge, but I’ll take one for the team. I guess you can do things to me next time.”

Both of you laugh and snuggle in closer to one another.

The bed feels so much more right with Keigo in it beside you.

#commissioned work #writing #not sfw text #mha x reader #bnha x reader #hawks x reader #hawks smut #bnha posting #chubby reader posting #bnha smut #mha smut

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quiwilove · 11 months ago

Text

Like a Tattoo - Chapter 1

Pairing: Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan x Omatikaya!Reader.

Synopsis: The Sully family have finally arrived in Awa'atlu where they are greeted with hostility from the locals. Neteyam soon gets to talk with the chief’s eldest daughter, who is rather unhappy with their presence.

Genre: Kind of Fluff??

Warnings: Mention of death, Chest exposure, Mention of explicit thoughts.

Word-count: 2.3k

Author’s note: First chapter woooooho!

Tabula rasa

Thud, thud, thud! The sharp needle numerously punctured the skin of the metkayina in front of you. You swiftly pulled it back and dipped it in the ink, just enough for the next few details. Your hand went back to working on the tattoo. Grunts and moans could be heard from the boy, who was evidently not used to the sting.

“I’m almost done, don’t worry.” You stated with a hint of annoyance. Your hands had been working without break since your waking. You were one of the few able to master the Metkayina craft of tattooing. As the ‘daughter’ of the Tsahik and chief of Awa’atlu, it was compulsory for you to be trained fittingly. Due to the fact that you weren’t their biological child your chances of becoming a Tsahik were nil, your teachings were rather more artistic and sensible than the traditional practices. Furthermore, your physique made the needlework easier for you. As an Omatikaya born on the reef, your hands were thin and your fingers lean. Even after twenty years of living on the island, you had gained some muscle on your body, but what was in your genes couldn’t be changed.

“Ow!” The boy yelped. Shit. You had again lost your focus. For the past two weeks you weren’t feeling yourself after having numerous dreams of a na’vi, unknown to you.

“Sorry.” You mumbled beneath your breath.

The final dot on your work was placed. As you looked at the tattoo, you couldn’t disregard the pleasing nature of it. It was just so beautiful. The black ink lines overlapped one another and smoothly followed their own lead. They were a story, written in poetic strokes.

Abruptly, the horn of the village rang. A sign of upcoming quests. But the hunting party wouldn’t be coming for at least five months, so who was it? You patted the boy on the shoulder indicating to him that he is ready. You put all your equipment to the side and you walked out to the commotion outside. You neared the mass of na’vi, who had gathered around the said guests. You pushed your way through them and walked to the front, your curiosity got the best out of you. There you were met with the sight of six shining yellow eyes. ‘Omatikaya.’ You thought. They were brisk to notice you, as you were a sight for sore eyes. The only familiar thing they have yet seen on Awa’atlu. Their stares burned through you with no shame. You politely said your greetings with a quiet ‘I see you.’ And a swing of your hand from your forehead onward.

“Jakesully, what makes you come to the reefs so suddenly?” You were a quite observant person, so his extra fingers and eyebrows weren’t overlooked. He seemed a little taken aback but then he composed himself and spoke with confidence, as much as he could.

“We seek uturu, a sanctuary for my family.”

“Uturu? But you are forest people, here you would be useless.”

“We’ll learn your ways!” The mighty Toruk Makto yelped.

“And until then? You need to be born on the reef to understand it.” You stated as you began to circle the outlanders. Looking for any possible threat evident in them. However, in the back of your mind you could sense that they were just a family forced to leave their home, desperate to find their path.

“And, who… are you?” The woman beside Jakesully hissed.

A sudden uproar was caught in the water, the Olo'eyktan had arrived.

“You’ll soon meet my parents, I hope that’s enough of an answer.” With heavy steps your father got closer and greeted the family. You turned to Tonowari and let him know of the situation regarding their guests. He hummed in understanding. Acknowledging that your presence wasn’t needed anymore, you returned to your hut. There you began to rearrange and wash your tools. ‘I need to gather some ink. Great…’ you thought as a small droplet of black liquid swished around on the bottom of the seashell.

You made your way to the shore in hopes of effortlessly catching an ‘ink fish’. Knees deep, you got into the warm water and threw your fishing net. To your dismay, your attempts were fruitless and you decided to wait a little bit longer. You were waiting for the perfect moment in which the fish would all gather in one place and as soon as you swung your arm to the side a few splashes scared off the tiny fish. You let out a sigh of frustration and looked at the source of the splash. It was one of the Omatikaya that came today. Your eyes widened, but you were quick to make a witty remark.

“So you stayed, I thought you might’ve some common sense and go somewhere… more familiar to you.”

“Hah, unfortunately for you, my family and I will be staying here for a while.” He laughed slightly.

“Yeah, you’ll bring your war here and then leave for the next village. Just perfect.” You moved your attention to the fish in the water, your goal unchanged.

“Why are you so hostile? I mean, aren’t you an Omatikaya yourself?” You glanced at him with narrow eyes. He looked to be around your age, with long braided hair and muscular body. When he talked he had a slight accent which was compelling when heard.

“It’s none of your business, forest boy.” You said with a sneer.

“Neteyam.” He added.

“What?” You uttered, confused by his remark.

“My name’s Neteyam, not ‘forest boy’, get it right next time.”

“There won’t be a next time, I’m preoccupied with work, so you won’t have to worry ‘bout that.” You replied.

“See you tomorrow then, Y/N.” He began to walk back to the land as you stood startled by his words. ‘How does he know my name?’ You thought and let out a faint ‘Huh’. Before you could question him further, he had already gone out of your reach. The frustrating encounter with Neteyam left you wondering and thinking. At that moment, you felt a light brush on your leg. ‘An ink fish, finally!’.

The dark sky was littered with countless stars, all representing a separate galaxy. They shined with all their might and regardless of their tiny appearance, the cosmic matter was heavenly enough to make a person lose themselves in the sight.

The water reflected their rays of light, likewise the reflection of the bonfire the metkayina had set up, lighted the whole shore. Each evening there was a big communal dinner gathering. The na’vi would sit around, share their food and stories. Today was no exception. Exhausted and starving from the long day, you sat by your parents and poured yourself some gilderfin. Your parents were engrossed in a conversation regarding the villages surrounding Awa’atlu and as their eldest you were often included in the important discussions.

“Dad, what are you talking about with mom?” You leaned forward to look at them more precisely.

“About Jakesully’s arrival. We are going to send some of our men to all the islands to inform the people about the current situation.” Your father told you as he put another piece of fish into his mouth.

“What about it?”

“Daughter, his war will always follow him and we need to be cautious.” You let out a soft ‘Mhm’ and continued to enjoy your dinner.

“I must not forget that you will be teaching their children with your brother and sister.” Your whole body tensed up.

“Father, with all due respect-“ He cut you off.

“I don’t want to hear it.” You turned your body fully towards him and you set your plate on the ground.

“I have so much work with mother and I have s-o-o many people waiting for me to tattoo them. You have to understand I don’t have time to teach them.” Your father was silent for a minute as if he was thinking over his decision.

“Your evenings will be free. It’s decided.” You sighed knowing that further negotiations will be futile. At the given moment the Omatikaya family were approaching the gathering. Your father gestured to them to come over and then motioned towards the food that stood in front of him. The Sullys sat by your family and helped themselves with a serving of the fish onto their wooden plates. They would often look your way which wasn’t left unnoticed by your father.

“As I have mentioned earlier, this is my eldest daughter Y/N, who will be responsible for your children’s teaching alongside Tsireya and Ao’nung.” You nodded to them as a way of greeting. The atmosphere around you turned awkward, no one spoke a single word. Tonowari, willing to break the silence, spoke up.

“How do you find your marui?” He asked.

“We’ve settled well.” Jake said and from then a conversation sparked up between them. They were engaging in small-talk which didn’t interest you. Instead you tried to find another source of entertainment. Tsireya and one of Jake Sully’s kids were quietly giggling and exchanging loving glances. Your sister was telling him how you’ll all explore the reef and he would be stunned by the beauty of it. You made yourself a mental note to ask Tsireya about the boy. Diagonally from you was Neteyam, who was still staring intently at you from the beginning of their arrival.

“Can you pass me some of the gilderfin?” Neteyam asked you with softness to his voice, even though his question wasn’t intended with any sort of lovely intonation. You took the big shell into your hands and stood up on your knees. You leaned towards him and handed the place. In this awkward position your necklace, which served as a piece to cover your chest, dangled and left your cleavage to slight exposure. You weren’t aware of the exposing posture you were in, so you were left wondering why his cheeks and ears were reddening. As for Neteyam, he was ashamed by his inappropriate thoughts, you were handing him some food and he was staring at your chest. His imagination getting the best out of him. He was an adult, a man, and those thoughts shouldn’t have bothered him but since Syay’s death it didn’t feel right. He was supposed to mate with her, to only think of her in those ways. But then death came… Neteyam quickly composed himself and took the shell.

For the first time he noticed the tattoos on your hands. The ink lines were wrapped around your fingers and wrist. They looked like waves crashing into each other in the most beautiful way.

“What do they represent?” You let out a ‘Hm’ and then followed his gaze where it had settled on your hands.

“A-a-a-h, well they represent my craft. My ‘usefulness’ if you can say.”

“Cool.” A tender smile plastered on his face.

“Yeah.”

After dinner you and Tsireya were in your family marui sorting out the remedies, which your mother assigned you to organize. You took the flaky herbs and twisted a string around them. Securing the dried plants and then dropping them in a wooden box. Their scent was strong enough to make a person dizzy. They smelt of fresh flowers and spice.

“Tsireya.” You called out to your sister.

“What is it?” She sweetly replied.

“What’s up with you and the Sully boy?” You looked into her eyes and stopped tying the herbs. Her ears perked up and her cheeks reddened.

“Oh, well-l-l, I try to be as welcoming to the whole family as I can.” She struggled to form a better excuse.

“Especially a warm welcome for him.” You teased her.

“I-“ You cut her off before she could say another word.

“What’s his name, sis?” You asked her.

“Lo’ak. He is very sweet and I’m sure we’ll be great friends!” Tsireya’s face was even more red than it had been previously.

“Right-t-t-t, you give your friends love eyes.” You dragged your words with laughter.

“You really love to run your mouth, ah? Well, what about Neteyam, I saw you talking with him on the shore. You were staring at each other so intently that I thought you’ll start making out infront of everyone!” You wanted to cut her off and tell her what actually happened. You raised your finger in the air, ready to abolish the claims. But she swiftly swatted your hand with a smile on her face.

“And then You did the same thing during dinner. I got sick from your staring at one another.”

“You are talking nonsense.” You shock your head.

“Just as you are!” She accused you.

“No I am not, because I can read you like a book, little sister. And also that encounter with Neteyam wasn’t pleasing at all. He was just annoying me and If I’m honest, kissing him would be the last thing I would do. He’s definitely not my type and I do not like him, period.”

“I would argue with you, but it seems as if you can’t get anything through your thick skull.” She poked your head.

“Rude.”

“You know who is rude? You!” Tsireya exclaimed, deeply troubled.

“Now this, really?” You put your hands up.

“Yeah, because since they came you have been so sour and unfriendly towards them!”

“Tsireya, don’t start with this. You heard father very clearly. Their war will always haunt them, let’s hope it doesn’t reach us, but it could. They will only bring pain with themselves.” You tried to make her understand this, but by the looks of it, her kindness and pure heart blinded her of the truth that laid within their new guests.

“They are good people,”

“I’m not saying that they aren’t but they have put our people in danger, imminent danger.”

#avatar #neteyam #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam x reader #avatar the way of water #avatar way of water #neteyam x you #neteyam x y/n #atwow #avatar 2 #avatar 2022 #atwow neteyam #atwow fanfiction

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inchidentally · 11 months ago

Note

I saw your post about Lando and his teammates and I agree in pretty much everything. There's also some things I had never noticed before or at least, not as in depth, and as I was reading I remembered some moments I wanted to share with you. I checked videos for accuracy btw.

I kinda felt Daniel and Carlos liked the spotlight in them meanwhile Lando just avoided it, in fact he still does, and this affected his dynamic with Oscar positively. Some examples:

Austria 2020. Lando earns his first F1 podium. When they're in the team celebration Carlos runs to congratulate Lando and accompanies him to meet the team. Then he's the one who hands Lando the champagne and his trophy. At some point he punctuates something Lando says in his speech. Nothing bad-spirited of course, and maybe is just a Carlos way of protecting "socially-awkward" Lando in a big brother kind of way, but it's not Lando's decission to share his spotlight with Carlos, he can't make a choice here. Previously Carlos had shared his Brazil 2019 success with Lando making him a main point of his celebration, so probably it's just a "sharing good moments" mentality from Carlos' side, but again, nobody asked Lando.

Monza 2020. On the other hand Carlos almost wins the race, he ends up second and a bit frustrated, his first proper podium with Mclaren after the Brazil delayed podium. He gets to the garage for the celebration and Lando is waiting patiently on the side. He blends with the other team members until someone brings his neon board to show he finished P4 for the team photo. A podium if a red flag didn't screw him. I wonder how many people remember this fact, because I feel it wasn't mentioned enough back in the day.

2021 season: Daniel loves the spotlight until… his season is very bad and it's better if the spotlight is away from him. Lando has an outstanding season receiving his well-earned dose of attention until Monza happens. Daniel deserves all the attention for getting a victory. Everybody praises Mclaren, it's a 1-2! Fast-forward a week when Daniel and Lando make a Q&A video for the F1 channel and Daniel remembers it was Lando's best result in F1 and Lando uses his sarcastic humour saying "it's a shame you won because everybody forgot, you kinda ruined it." They joke about it. Coincidentally the rest of Lando's season is plagued by bad luck: the late rain in Sochi, the punctures in Brazil, Qatar and Abu Dhabi, and a terribly-timed pit-stop before a red flag in Saudi Arabia. In retrospect that 2nd position was Lando's highest point of the season and it went a bit unnoticed. Comments on how Lando "crumbles under pressure" or how he "disappears in the 2nd half of the season" are everywhere after the last race. Unfair and harsh.

And I see a reflection of all those things Lando went through in his current relationship with Oscar.

When Oscar misses the podium in Silverstone for an unlucky safety-car and finishes P4, Lando from his second step in the podium doesn't miss a chance remembering everyone that Oscar should had been P3. In his team radio, in the post-race interview, in the media pen, in the Mclaren video… He just got his first podium at his home race but he worries about the rookie and how frustrated he must feel, because well, he's been in that exact position before and nobody openly cared about it.

When they get a double podium in Japan it's Oscar's first podium in F1 and Lando does everything he can to make sure everybody knows about it. He showers him in champagne in the podium, kinda forgetting his own success. It's not a "double podium" more, it's "Oscar's first podium", thank you very much.

Then it's Qatar and Oscar wins the Sprint. Lando works hard for his P3 but he mentions Oscar's victory at any given chance. Even one day later when Lando does a brilliant run from P10 to P3 (and who knows if it could have been a P2 if Mclaren had allowed him to race Oscar) and as frustrated as he was with his whole weekend and the missed chances, he doesn't celebrates with Oscar, he celebrates Oscar.

Oscar gets unlucky in the second half of the season: accidents that aren't his fault, mechanical problems… Some people use his final positions to attack him saying that his rookie season isn't that impressive. Especially after the American races.

It's the end of the season and Lando often remembers all of Oscar's milestones even before Oscar can open his mouth, because Lando knows Oscar will avoid the spotlight. Lando knows how it feels like when you're treated with condescension for being the younger one but he can't do that, he sees Oscar as an equal. Someone who has worked as hard as him to get to the top, someone who deserves his success as much as himself, someone who maybe doesn't care at all about spotlights and attention and can't understand why his older teammate insists so much in reminding everyone about his achievements when they are good, but objectively they could be better.

Because Lando treats Oscar like he would have liked to be treated.

And judging Oscar's behaviour around Lando, he's aware of how much Lando is taking care of him with those little details.

I'm gonna actually fucking cry, anon you are the brain I wish I had <3

like, I'm gonna link to the post I made that this is in reference to but genuinely your ask is everything that needs to be said. those subtle details were all kind of hazy in my brain but I knew the overall impression - you not only nailed all of them you led it to SUCH a perfect conclusion.

because Lando's been the satellite, the baby, the little brother, the phenom without a win, the one left behind, the former teammate watching his friends form similar (or stronger) bonds with new teammates.

and in all of Oscar's rookie season not once have I given Lando the credit he deserves for being as you say, everything for Oscar he wished he could have had in those first few years of his F1 career.

and goddd, the way Lando alternately loved and hated that Carlos and Daniel were these big brash alpha types. loved it for the protection it afforded but sometimes hated it bc sometimes he was so small to them that he became a something they loved rather than a someone. and this also goes in hand with my feelings about the larry-level car|ando fans forgetting that Lando is a real whole person who doesn't just fit and go along with everything about Carlos like a self-insert for fans.

goddd, y'all please clock this expert piece of landoscar lore in this ask <3

#inchreplies #ln lore #landoscar lore #again #not critical of carlos or daniel #but pointing out the truths from lando's pov #fave #for reference

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lookismfanfics · 2 years ago

Note

Hello! I've discovered your blog and your Lookism works are just- *chef's kiss* 😘 I've been wondering if I could request headcanons for the Lookism Bois (especially my baby Vasco, plus anyone your prefer) on how they would react to a tired s/o.

If this is too much, feel free to ignore this :)

Stay safe and keep yourself hydrated!

-🐮anon

“𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐓𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝?”

Thank you for the request! I did my best… hopefully this is okay.

Warnings: Fluff! Mentions of snarkiness (?)

Vasco • Gun •

𝐕𝐚𝐬𝐜𝐨

ఌ You aren’t constantly tired… and he knows that.

ఌ So it’s only natural that he’s a little worried; and honestly, you can’t blame him.

ఌ You sit with him against the wall, fighting a literal war with yourself to keep your eyes open.

ఌ This week in general has been crazy tiring.

ఌ And how here you are- hanging out with the leader of the Burn Knuckles while on the verge of falling asleep

ఌ Vasco leans forward on the balls of his feet, staring at you shamelessly with unmasked concern.

ఌ You get the sense that you missed something, glancing at him. Euntee, indeed, is looking at you expectantly.

ఌ You rub your eyes, “Huh? Sorry did you say something?”

ఌ Vasco’s eyebrows draw together tightly. “Mhm. Are you tired?”

ఌ It’s not normal for you to be this out of it. Usually, after school, you and Vasco will sit somewhere- anywhere -to talk about how your days went.

ఌ He’ll tell you about funny things that happened, and you’ll give him your full attention (or as much as you can spare) and laugh with him.

ఌ But not today. Today you’re sleepwalking through this conversation, and he can tell.

ఌ “Yeah, just a little.”

ఌ “Why?”

ఌ You adjust your sitting position, slumping further against the wall. “Homework.”

ఌ “But you’re always better than me about homework…” he says slowly, eyes still dark and glazed with seriousness, while his cheeks flush with childish persona.

ఌ And while you nod and mumble an offhand reply about how this week’s assignments were just a bit more difficult, and how time had slipped from you, Vasco seems less than assured that you’re alright.

ఌ He slides his hand into his pocket.

ఌ “Here. It’ll keep you awake.”

ఌ You try not to smile like an idiot, taking the carton of chocolate milk he’s extended to you.

ఌ He wants to keep you awake… and at the same time, he wants to get you somewhere comfortable so you can sleep.

ఌ He knows for a fact that teenagers need a good nights rest to keep growing. Mentally and physically.

ఌ You puncture the top of the carton with the straw, feeling the weight of Vasco’s stare once again on you.

ఌ “I’ll be fine you know. I’ll just take a nap if I still feel tired.”

ఌ He looks at the ground, cheeks flaring sheepishly. You try not to smile, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye.

ఌ He turns to you. “I will be your bed. If you want to sleep right now.”

ఌ 😮‍💨😅

ఌ You cough violently, pulling back from the straw shoved in your mouth. Vasco pats your back.

ఌ Him: ��️〰️👁️

ఌ You look up at him dubiously. He returns your stare, completely serious.

ఌ “Sleep on a rock? I’m… okay…” you laugh, trying to keep your face from heating up too much. It feels hot in your cheeks, although to be honest you aren’t one to blush to often around Vasco.

ఌ It’s the thought that counts.

ఌ Vasco walks you home, giving you a piggy-back into your room.

ఌ He insists that he stays. He “needs to ensure they get a good nights rest.”

ఌ You fall asleep with Vasco looming in the corner of your room. You wake up nuzzled into his chest.

𝐆𝐮𝐧

ఌ Out of all the days for you to fall asleep at random, burned out from exhaustion, and having little-to-no self awareness, it had to be today.

ఌ The day you would be out with Gun, driving around the Korean countryside in his sports car.

ఌ You didn’t want to go before… and now you really didn’t want to go now.

ఌ Yet here you are. Miserably smushed into the corner of the passenger seat.

ఌ You rub your eyes to keep them open- even as the warmth of the sunlight lulls you to sleep.

ఌ Driving the car, paying little attention to you, is Park Gun.

ఌ You yawn, and he shoots you daggers 🗡️

ఌ “If you didn’t wanna come you should’ve said so.”

ఌ This is what he’s like when you’re out and about. If you seem tired- it automatically means you’re disinterested. According to him.

ఌ “Well today’s just a bad day. Can we go home now?” You ask grumpily

ఌ He turns to you, eyes shaded by his sunglasses. You can see just a hint of a smile on his lips.

ఌ “That’s where I’m taking you.”

ఌ And as soon as you’re home, he’s a bit more understanding; albeit he continues to be judgmental about the whole thing.

ఌ It’s straight to bed for you. He stands by the door impatiently, the car keys slung on his finger and his jacket hanging off his shoulder.

ఌ Guilt-tripping. Lovely

ఌ Gun watches quietly as you take off your accessories (jacket, shoes) and accepts the sleepy glare you give him

ఌ It wasn’t completely your fault… but this guy had been dragging you around to all the exotic locations in Korea for “kicks”

ఌ Late nights out plus your pile of schoolwork at home hadn’t been coordinating well at all.

ఌ He gestures towards your bedroom, and all you can do is sigh irritably.

ఌ “Look I’m sorry, okay? It’s not my fault that people get tired.”

ఌ “It doesn’t matter to me. Fact is we were supposed to have a date today.”

ఌ You nod your head tiredly, entering your bedroom. You didn’t even catch his next comment: “My proposal was ruined thanks to me being an ignorant boyfriend. So… my bad.”

ఌ You collapse into your bed, Gun’s quiet but snarky comments ringing in your head

ఌ You fall asleep by yourself. You wake up with lofi playing and a glass of water on the bedside table.

ఌ He also left you a note in sloppy handwriting, that read: 丅ᗩᛕᗴ ᑕᗩᖇᗴ ᗝᖴ Ƴᗝᑌᖇᔕᗴᒪᖴ ᔕᒪᗴᗴᑭƳ ᗩᔕᔕ

#Lookism #lookism headcanons #lookism x reader #Tired s/o #gender nuetral reader #Vasco x reader #Vasco fluff #Vasco x gn reader #lookism manhwa #lookism webtoon #Euntee Lee x Reader #Gun x Reader #Junggun x reader #Fluffiness!!#Thank you for the requests 🥰#This is my most successful blog ever :-:

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bau-drabbles · 1 year ago

Text

good days

a/n: toxic spencer(?), sad angst, no happy ending, rushed as always!!! 💞

too soon, i spoke

it was hard to see him, lately. you didn't think you could ever feel this way with spencer, not once could you anticipate this feeling. he was the first thing to come to mind whenever someone mentioned love, he was the first person you talked about when people mentioned your person. he was everything and more you could've ever wanted in a man. strong, kind, compassionate and intelligent. no one else simply could compare.

but recently he'd been so absorbed with work and paired with all the trauma that had happened to him it was natural and inevitable he was getting a bit distant with you. and still, not once did you complain. no, you played the part of a doting loving partner even when it almost killed you. even when your team looked at you with worry, still you forced a smile on your face and reassured them all was well. this was natural, this was him processing his emotions and you'd do everything to make it better.

even when he shouted, even when he was silent, you took it all. you should've never had to, he should've been grown enough to communicate since it was something he always did. but you figured if you stuck it out, kept going because it was bound to end. there would be light at the end of the tunnel surely, your salvation would come soon, all you had to do was be patient enough to receive it.

you be heavy in my mind

but then days trickled into weeks and soon enough it had been a month and his mood was still the same as it was before. unpleasant and insufferable.

you quickly come to realise that you can't take his pain away, not when you realise you are the very cause of it. he doesn't explicitly what's wrong with him but then he never was good at doing that. he never was good at sharing his feelings and thoughts, preferring to bottle them until it shattered or until he was forced to say.

it wasn't as if you didn't try. you had talked and even pleaded him to say what had been nothing him but every conversation was simply shut down or he stormed off not wanting to deal with the confrontation. and it hurt more than you could've possibly imagined, the love of your life was pulling away from you and there wasn't a thing you could do to stop it. work had become a distraction and now you looked forward to the busy days and long nights, anything to keep you distracted from your crumbling relationship with him. anything to stop the thoughts spiralling out of control

can you get the heck out?

but it was hard when you both worked the same profession and were also colleagues. nothing could've prepared you for how petty and how childish he acted. you know he's gotten closer with others more than you, you can see how his dimpled smile lights up his face when he talks to emily, jj or morgan.

but still your heart holds out hope that he was spencer reid. he was your spencer, the man who held you with so much adoration. the man who rambled about his little facts, eagerly explaining and telling you the meaning behind every single one. the man who surprised you with flowers every friday, who marked and memorised every special occasion no matter what. he was spencer reid, and he was yours. this was just a phase, everything was bound to get better again.

only no matter how many times you try and persuade yourself the same things you're not so sure you both can get by this.

he's working by his desk and for a minute, you wonder going up and greeting him. it hurts you with just how much he's at ease with jj and morgan, how he chuckles and writes away on the files, the frown lines are gone. your heart shatters when he doesn't even look your way.

his laugh calls out to you like a siren, even when your heart feels like shattering and splintering, he still manages to puncture holes in your resolve. you still find a soft sad smile on your lips whenever he laughs. even through the hurt and the pain, there's happiness for him that lays in your aching heart. even when you want to cry and scream, a warm feeling remains close by at how happy he looks.

i need rest now, got me bummed out

the walls that you and reid had so painstakingly chipped away were beginning to form again, it was so obvious and yet he couldn't care. he couldn't bring himself to even acknowledge you some times let alone talk.

but you're snapped out of your thoughts when morgan calls your name, finding his smile to be welcoming after the last miserable weeks with reid. and soon most of your team is sitting by your desk, eagerly chatting away their weekend plans. it's much more easier to nod and smile than to explain you'd be living the same pitiful weekend routine for the last month.

and then he comes by, holding a few files in his arms. darkness swirls around his stoic form, flowing like mist on a cool morning. he silently adjusted the cuff on his sleeve before looking at you with clear intense eyes. a frigidity he wasn't even aware of iced his gaze and froze his jaw and perhaps you could appreciate the beauty that was him if he wasn't so cold. how his curly hair managed to fall so perfectly across his face, how his eyes were a kaleidoscope of beautiful colours, how you could simply look at him for a second and find everything little thing about him endearing.

but as he stares at you, you resist the urge to tremble under his gaze. every muscle in his face created a perfectly crafted message, he wasn't one to be trifled with. and you had certainly lost your privilege to pretend otherwise. the words simply die on your tongue as he watches you, much like the feelings he held for you

looking at him now, you're not sure what you thought you knew about him. every moment shared together, every kiss planted on your skin, everytime your fingers interlaced, every time he promised, all of it seemed like a daze. all of it seemed like a mirage, an illusion your mind had come conjured up to prevent you from seeing the cracks there.

you forget however, that cracks fester and grow, no matter how one tries to hide them, they will continue to rot the foundation. they are penetrative, able to crumble even the most strongest of walls.

your best friend, your beautiful boyfriend, your heart and soul, standing opposite you and all you can see is the cracks in him. where once you had tried to fill with love and being more than you were, it all proved to be unsuccessful. you were y/n, you were never going to live up to his ideal woman.

and that hurt more than any fantasy your mind could ever conjure up

i've been on my empty mind shit

everything was going worse, you didn't think spencer could ever introduce you to new lows but then again parts of you could argue that you never really knew him.

even at home, there seems to be this division almost. he doesn't come to you and you stay out of his way, that's the way it's been for weeks and you hate it with every part of you. his face is rigid and stone cold, he doesn't even eat with you at the dining table he excitedly chose out when you first shared this apartment. gone are the times where you'd both be in this bubble of happiness, baking together while he lazily pulled you to his chest and peppering kisses to your forehead. both of you dancing so gently with the beat of the soft music playing in the background.

there's no movie nights either, no more evening spent bundled up in his arms as you both watch a documentary about the latest thing you were interested in and him being unable to stop looking at you with love and happiness. there's no more soft moments during the day, both of you in a comfortable silence as you go through case files but feeling his hand or leg touch up on you.

he always had a special habit of constantly touching you and it's one thing you've missed so greatly, so inexplicably it almost reduces you to tears. spencer usually wasn't much for physical contact but he couldn't let you go if his life depended on it, he always constantly had to be touching you in some ways. and at first he was embarrassed at how touchstarved he truly was but you never once made him feel bad about it. in fact, you'd always encourage it from him. you seemed his comfort just as much as he needed yours.

but he simply stopped touching you, backed away as if he simply couldn't stand you. there were no hugs and kisses, no more cuddling and snuggling in bed. no more running his hands across your body and face as he plants the sweetest kisses upon your skin. your spencer has gone and in his place is a man you don't recognise anymore

i try to keep from losin' the rest of me

the moment of solace when first waking up, and everything that had ever gone wrong evaporates for a few seconds. it's your way of trying to find peace in those fleeting moments, dreaming of a world where you and reid are side by side laughing and having fun like you once did. yearning for when he used to dote upon you as if you were the most precious thing he could ever have, cherishing you as though you were his only one.

every morning it's the same and it aches even more when the moment ends and reality comes crashing down and once again, you're left to pick up the pieces he's broken. you sleep in the guest bed now, and every morning when you open your eyes you expect to see his frame sleeping soundly beside you. his curly hair a cute mess upon his forehead, his arms cocooned around you encasing you tight within his chest and the blanket. and when the vision fades away, the tears falling on your cheeks it's a cold reminder that he knows the pain he's causing you, he simply doesn't care about it.

you can hear him stir awake in your bedroom, it physically hurts when you see just at how unbothered he seems. while parts of your sanity rips away every day being away from his love, he seems so calm and collected. you both get ready in separate rooms now. he doesn't ask you to fix his crooked tie or help tame down the front curls. he also doesn't help you with your work outfit, giving you gentle pecks as you both sleepily get ready for the day ahead. it's even come to the point of taking two different cars to work, the awkward silence had become too unbearable and you couldn't handle him acting as if you were a plague to mankind anymore so you made your won way to work.

he certainly didn't seem to be affected by it, he arrived to work and got to his desk reading over the previous case files. whenever you entered the precinct, his head didn't even look your way. he was so good at making you feel so miserable and alone, you wonder how he was ever capable of loving. you wonder how he was ever capable of making you feel like you were on top of the world and then making it spin on its axis with a click of his fingers. you gave him your all and in return, all he ever gave you was pain and sadness.

i worry that i wasted the best of me on you, baby

the team forced everyone to go out tonight after a particularly rough case and for once, you didn't fight them. what was the worst that could possible happen anyway, your relationship with the person you loved wholeheartedly was slowly shattering and there wasn't a thing you could do about it.

the night was young and after staying at the bar, a handsome man walks up to you. for once you find yourself in a comfortable conversation with someone who actually wants to engage and speak with you about your interest and passion. it'd been so long since you actually received this attention from your actual boyfriend, you didn't even realise how much time had passed and you still chatted and laughed with him.

but as you lean on your hand, you can feel a pair of eyes almost burn into you and slowly you look to the side. his face is blank and yet his hazel eyes are pained, so much so you can practically drown within them. your heart feels like it's dropped to the darkest depths of the world and you hate how much you want to hold him tight, be there for him, even when he's done nothing but cause you pain. love shouldn't be this difficult, it didn't need to be this much anguish and so much sleepless nights wondering if it was all worth it.

but spencer reid was the man of your dreams, someone you thought would be forever. he promised you he would be. he promised to always be there, to be the one to take away your pain never the one to be the reason for it.

as much as you desperately want to run to him, your feet stay planted on the floor beside the stranger. not moving an inch away.

his eyes look so hurt, a slight frown as he looks away for a second and then back at you. but you just look at him, a moment of sadness crossing your eyes before you wear the facade you've become an expert at crafting back on again. it simply wasn't your job to pick up the pieces, not anymore. your eyes connect for just a brief moment once more, everything you wish you could've ever said rolls off of you in waves

i loved you, i loved you, i loved you-

"c'mon sweetheart" you let the man take you away by your hand, walking straight past your lover without so much as a second glance. his gaze burns holes into your skin, you can feel it from all the distance growing in between you both as your feet stray further and further away. every step, your heart begs to run back to the same arms that have rejected you. every second spent away, your body aches to be held and kissed with the same sweet lips that adored you back then. but you don't give in this time.

no, he broke you and in response, you watched him break.

so you continue walking, hand in hand with another. for how could you lose someone that never loved you? how could keep something that was never yours?

but you don't care

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