#i’ve been wanting to for a while i’m just really scared to learn how

[raddest-laddest]

do you do commissions? ::)

not at the moment , no

[fangswbenefits]

Suit Up

Summary: Miguel craves to mark you as his, but he’ll have to start slow… so he offers to build you a custom suit. For now.

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

18+. Miguel POV. Obsessed Miguel. Innocent and inexperienced reader. Pining. Sexual tension and frustration. Masturbation. Breeding kink.

* ˚ ✦ Part 1 (you don’t have to read it to enjoy this one)

Miguel had decided he was going to build you a suit.

Not just a regular one, but an extension of his own.

He craved to have you for himself, and to have others know that. But he’d have to play his cards right. This level of obsession could easily scare someone off at first.

Especially you.

His sweet, sweet girl.

So he settled for this: building you a custom digital suit to match his.

Slowly, but surely you’d start to connect yourself to him more often.

Or so he hoped.

He found you in his lab early in the morning, sitting by the desk while taking your sweet time with a slice of watermelon.

“Good morning.”

As expected, you jolted in your seat, turning to face him.

A few droplets of juice dribbled down from your lips and chin, and eventually landing on your shirt.

You offered him a messy grin, bits of watermelon all over your teeth, but the absolute innocence of that action tore straight down to his cock.

“Oh! Miguel, hi! Sorry—” your voice came out slightly muffled, as you placed the half moon slice on a plate. “This watermelon is so sweet! Want a taste?”

His brow furrowed and he halted right in front of you. “There’s…” his voice trailed off, eyes fixed on your chin.

You immediately picked up on the implication and wiped the sugary liquid from your skin with a napkin, bringing a few fingers to your lips as well.

Miguel cursed inwardly and wondered if you were truly unaware of how suggestive all of this looked.

He slapped that thought away. No. You were too innocent for that. Your words and actions held no second meaning.

You were genuinely so fucking clueless that it only served to fuel his obsession with you.

His cock gave him a warning twitch.

He was all too familiar with those by now.

Would you be this messy while sucking him off? Would you not be able to keep it all in and eventually swallow?

He’d be fine with you not swallowing it all at first. After all, he did cum a lot. It would probably be overwhelming for someone as innocent and inexperienced as you.

“Miguel?”

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts at once. “Yes?”

“I’m sorry for making a mess,” you said, hurriedly cleaning the desk.

There was no doubt you’d be the death of him.

Apologising for making a mess…

“Don’t worry about that,” he managed to say flatly. “I’m sure it tasted really good.”

You then smiled once more and let out a cock-twitching groan. “Oh, yes! But… why did you want me in here my casuals today?”

Right.

He moved to tap the hovering screens in front of him. “I was thinking you suit might need an upgrade.”

“What? But I built this one myself… what’s wrong with it?” you whined softly, sticking your bottom lip out.

His cock twitched again.

“I know, I know,” he reassured you with extreme ease. “But I’ve been working on a prototype of my digital suit and would like for you to test it out.”

A blatant lie.

He had just decided this the night before, after that post nut clarity had hit him hard.

How else would he mark you without you even realising?

You blinked a few times, having to tilt your head up to stare at him, and it was enough to flare his imagination.

“Really?” the excitement in your voice was palpable and he felt a sudden rush of satisfaction. “That… that would be an honour, Miguel!”

His fingers tapped through multiple files. “You’ve been helping me out a lot in the lab lately. It’s only fair that I show my appreciation.”

Your gaze wavered momentarily, broken by his genuine praise, and Miguel nearlt bit his lip from this sight alone.

“I do it willingly, Miguel. I love learning new things from you,” your eyes were back on his, and you were bearing a warm smile. “You’re a great teacher!”

He tried hard to tear his gaze away from your lips, and offered a mere nod.

You deserved more than a nod.

And your eagerness to learn from him made him feel swollen with pride. An ego booster.

It was quite addicting.

He’d teach you so much more if you’d let him. He’d teach you how to embrace your pleasure and use it for him only. Oh, how he’d enjoy teaching you how to suck his cock, or how to use your words to turn him on.

Fuck.

He would teach you all he knew.

You’d have all of him.

But he wanted you to want him the way he wanted you. No. He needed you to need him. To crave and yearn and feel the unfair ropes of despair tighten around you.

“I’ll just need your measurements,” he said, fetching a couple of measuring bands from a top shelf. “These will measure every tiny detail, so the fit is as suitable as possible.”

You nodded eagerly, lips slightly parted. He moved to grab each wrist, closing the metallic band around each wrist.

“Feet up,” he asked, hoping his voice wouldn’t betray his true feelings.

You lifted one leg after the other, and he carefully clasped them around your ankles, the feel of your warm skin and proximity nearly having him bite his own lip.

“Wait, do I have be naked?”

The question caught him completely off guard and he straightened up at once. “What?”

Miguel felt more blood rushing downwards and was grateful his own suit was able to keep most of his strained erection from sight.

You broke into a nervous laugh. “Oh — I mean… you’re naked under your suit, right?”

He nodded. “Your suit becomes an extension of yourself and it should feel like a second layer of skin,” he added, extending one arm out, and allowed you to see the digital layer of fabric quickly retracting from the tips of his fingers all the way down his naked torso.

The reaction was immediate.

Your eyes landed on him for only a split second, before looking away.

For the second time that day, Miguel’s ego soared to incredibly dangerous heights.

You looked so innocent and sheepish, not daring to gaze at his incredible physique once again.

He wouldn’t hold that against you, though. You’d have plenty of time to gawk at his body once he managed to break into your mind, and make you his.

“It feels more comfortable this way,” he added reassuringly, as his suit promptly covered his exposed skin once again.

You turned to look at him again. “Oh! So I don’t actually have to be naked,” you giggled in relief.

“No,” Not for this, he wanted to add.

The height difference was starting to take a toll on his ability to focus. Having you sitting on that chair, perfectly levelled to engange in a more suggestive scenario, was enough to feel the blood boil in his veins.

He needed more.

He needed to touch you.

“Let’s boot the measuring analysis program,” Miguel took your hand in his and helped you on your feet. “I need you to stand still.”

He needed so much more than that from you, but he’d have to settle for silent agony for now.

You were visibly excited, barely able to contain yourself as a smile settled on your face, and he felt the sudden urge to praise you for being so eager and such a tease.

He tapped a few commands on his watch, and came to stand behind you, careful not to stand too close, or you’d notice his hard cock.

“Do you trust me?”

You shouldn’t…

You turned your head to the side to look into his crimson eyes, confusion twisting your face. “Of course I do, Miguel.”

… because he wouldn’t.

He rolled his fingers along the hem of your shirt, slowly rolling it upwards. His heart went into overdrive instantly and he could feel the first droplets of precum dripping down his cock.

You flinched once his knuckles brushed against your skin.

“Are you okay?” he asked, halting at once.

You nodded and giggled lighty. “That tickles.”

His sweet girl…

How was he supposed to endure burying himself inside you inch by inch when he couldn’t barely keep his composure now?

Once the shirt was resting under your breasts, he moved one hand to grip it gently from behind, effectively tightening the fabric flat over you. From where he stood, he could see your bra’s outline and how your breasts heaved with each breath you took.

This was driving him mad.

Your cleavage was so inviting and he had to take a step back, ensuring his erection wouldn’t accidentally brush against your ass.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to take this off?” you asked.

You were so fucking sweet and innocent, and he wanted nothing more than to rip all of your clothes apart.

“Just let the program scan your body,” he said, voice strained and breath coming out in shallow pants. “Can you do that for me?”

“Yes,” you immediately replied.

Such a good girl for him… his sweet girl…

He would want to ask that same question the day he got to teach you how to suck his cock.

You’d struggle at first.

But he’d be patient.

He’d probably need to come up with a serum to inject himself with to keep from exploding right away, and he couldn’t have that.

You would need proper guidance, wouldn’t you? How he’d love to have you on your knees, mouth dropped open and receptive.

His other hand was now pressed flat against your tummy and he nearly bucked his hips in response.

Careful, Miguel, he scolded himself.

Was this too much?

In reality, he didn’t need to be doing any of this for measurements, but he couldn’t help himself.

He needed you closer.

He needed to feel you shudder against his touch.

He needed you to need him.

You gasped softly once he started to moved his hand down ever so slightly, fingers nearly touching the waisgband of your pants.

“Ticklish?” he asked in a low voice.

You hummed, bucking your hips into him with a faint giggle, and he felt his cock into contact with your ass.

Oh, fuck.

He had to let go of you right away, flinching back.

You turned to eye him, worry plastered all of your face. “Did I hurt you?”

“No!” he said right away, more precum droplets spilling out. “I think the analysis is complete,” he cleared his throat and turned his back to her, looking down to his bulge.

He wish he could set his cock free.

No.

He wish you would offer to set his cock free.

He wanted you to know and see how much his body craved yours.

“Miguel, are you okay?” you asked tenderly, moving to stand by his side, brushing his tense bicep. “We can finish this some other time.”

Was it really possible for someone to be this clueless? Was your inexperience that blinding? Hadn’t you felt his erection?

Against his will, he nodded.

He needed you gone right away.

He had to get off urgently.

“You’re overworking yourself again…”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

How he’d love to make you his and have you take care of him.

Your hand squeezed his muscles gently. “Is there anything I can do?”

Please, touch me… “No. I’ll just finish the suit and have you test it out soon.”

Your hand dropped.

Maybe if he asked you to let him fuck your hand, you’d let him. Maybe.

He’d settle for you watching him jerk off to you, at this point.

“Can I pick the colours?” you then beamed, glancing up at the orange screens. “Can I? Please?”

He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Sure. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay!” you chirped happily, swiping across the customisation menu on the screen.

Miguel paced quickly into a storage room to his left, groaning into the back of his hand.

In no time, he had the front part of his lower half of his suit vanish, cock springing free, fully coated with precum.

He let out a strained and breathy sigh of absolute relief.

“Ay, Miguel…” he muttered to himself, realising just how badly this obsession had gotten.

His cock twitched, sending strand of precum to dangle from the tip.

From this angle, he could see your back, shirt still nicely tucked under your breasts, revealing so much of your skin to him.

That would do.

For now.

Wrapping his fingers around his cock, he set a slow pace at first, testing out his limit.

Dangerously close.

It was unfair that you were so close, yet so far. You were completely unaware of your effect on him.

Faint anger took over him.

You should be the one to bring him relief.

This was all on you… his sweet, innocent, inexperienced girl.

The pace quickened and he felt his fangs extending in anticipation.

You were bending over the desk, lifting your ass just enough for his mind to have imagining himself ramming into your from the back.

You’d love that position. Maybe not at first, but he’d teach you to enjoy thoroughly.

Being rawed and bred. You’d be a loving mother, wouldn’t you? You’d let him breed you over and over again, because you were just nice like that.

So eager to please.

He wished you’d bend over a little more, so he could fully immerse himself in his lust.

Feeling one fang dig into his lower lip, Miguel wondered how long it would take to draw blood, considering how hard it was for him to suppress his groans.

He couldn’t tear his eyes from you and his desire nearly pained him, because his hand would never be as tight as you, and it would never feel like you.

But he had to get rid of this now.

He had to complete your suit and mark you as his.

Everyone in Nueva York and across other universes would know you were his.

They would know not to cross you, for his wrath would be unmatched.

The sweet tingles of an orgasm soon engulfed him whole, and he threw his head back and fluttered his eyes shut, relying on his mind to keep your alive as he fucked himself for you.

Just you.

His sweet girl.

Just his.

He squeezed the first spurts of warm cum with his fingers, allowing himself go roll his hips in a broken rhythm.

The metallic taste of blood pooled in his tongue and he knew his fang has dug too deep, but he didn’t care.

He would break himself for you.

And you would, too.

You just didn’t know it yet.

Part 3

Masterlist

[gay-dorito-dust]

Batboys realizing how small their s/o is to the point they can fit in the cabinet or in a box like a cat. How would they react?

Bruce

Only looks at you with a raised brow the moment he opened the cupboard, only to discover that you managed you sweetie yourself in the small confided space with a blanket.

‘Is there a reason you’re hiding in the cupboard?’ He’d ask, believing there to be a logical explanation behind your actions.

You only shrugged as you smiled at him. ‘I just wanted to test if I was small enough to fit really, now I found a hiding spot incase an impromptu hide and seek game were to happen.’

‘An impromptu hide and seek game? My love who’d-‘

‘Stephanie or Dick.’ You cut him off as he could only chuckle at your ability to somehow integrate yourself in what the kids were doing so seamlessly it was almost adorable, no it was adorable because he was happy that you got along with the kids as though they were you’re own and giving them the memories they could look back on and smile.

‘While this is quite impressive, I wouldn’t want you to hurt your self coming out there.’ Bruce says as he holds his hand out to you and you quickly accepted, letting him pull you out just as little Steph ran past you both screaming;

‘HIDE AND SEEK! IM GOING TO COUNT TO TEN SND FIND YOU ALL!’

You quickly dropped Bruce’s hand, much to his dismay as he watched you, his partner, run back towards the cupboard you came out of and shove yourself into it before slamming the door shut as Stephie finished counting. Bruce smiled the moment he felt Stephen’s little hand touch his leg.

‘You didn’t try to hide.’ she pouts and he kneels down to ruffled her hair.

‘That’s because I want to help you find everyone before dinner is done.’ Bruce replied as he glanced towards the cupboard you were hiding in, feeling your glare of betrayal through the wood as he smirked, holding Stephanie’s hand as he easily helped her find everyone; everyone but you that was as he was saving you for last.

Dick

Almost screams when he sees you within his cupboard.

‘Sweetheart! Are you stuck? No you’re too short to be stuck-‘ dick muttered to himself, not knowing that you heard him loud and clear.

‘Thanks dickhead.’ You replied sarcastically as you looked at him, ‘while I might be short but at least I can fit into things that your acrobatic ass could only wish.’ You added as you goaded him.

Coming down from the initial scare of seeing you in his cupboard, making him internally wonder how long you’ve been doing this for, and hoped you didn’t see him sneak Hayley some more treats then necessary. However the moment he heard the taunting in your voice, his eyes shone with a little excitement and mischief as he leant towards you.

‘Are you sure about that? What makes you think I haven’t tried?’ He asks.

You shrug. ‘Jason said you tried it once when wanting to scare Bruce and got stuck.’ You answered and dick couldn’t help but curse Jason for letting you in on his biggest embarrassment. Dick crossed his arms over his chest and pouted, ‘well I’ve learned from the last time!’ He exclaimed but there was a sense of uncertainty in his they told you that he definitely didn’t leave from the last time. ‘Just watch me!’ Dick adds as he muscled his way onto the cupboard next to you.

You were quickly ditched your competitiveness and become worried the moment you heard dick whisper ‘oh shit’ under his breath. ‘Dick? What’s wrong?’ You asked, pressing your ear against the wood that separated you both. ‘I think I’m stuck sweetheart…’ dick mournfully answered as you sighed and grabbed your phone, punching in a familiar number at this point.

‘I’ll call Jason.’ You said.

‘Tell him to not tell anyone!’ Dick shouted, knowing how Jason would get if he saw him like this, much like he teased Tim with those robbers who kept trying to-and failing- to kidnap him. ‘I’ll be sure to make him promise or I’ll hide in his cupboard and scare him.’ You replied as you pressed your phone to you ear, waiting for Jason to pick up.

‘Thanks honey.’ Dick murmured.

Jason

‘Shit.’ Jason cured the moment he found your hiding spot.

‘Language jay bird.’ You replied.

‘You scared the shit out of my chipmunk,’ Jason exclaimed before wildly gesturing to the cupboard that you had somehow stuffed yourself in, ‘how did you managed to get yourself in there in the first place?’ He asked and you shrugged. ‘I’m small’ was your explanation.

‘I know that but when did hiding in cupboards started becoming your thing?’ Jason continued to ask, still not grasping how you would want to spend time in a small, claustrophobic cupboard, the logic wasn’t coming to him and therefore you went beyond logic with your actions also.

‘Since this week?’ You said as you tried to think back to when you started doing this, but nothing was coming up, it was almost as if hiding in small spaces without letting others be aware of this habit was something you just did out of impulse. ‘I dunno but I’ve got to entertain myself when you go off on patrol.’ You groaned as Jason placed his hands on his hips.

‘Oh yeah? Well you’re coming out of the cupboard and we’ll go do something together because I swear if you do that to me again, I think I might pass away…again.’ Jason retorted as you let him grab you by the waist and pull you out of the cupboard, holding you close to his chest as he smothered kisses across your face and neck.

‘Alright! Alright! I won’t scare you again but can we at least cuddle?’ You pleaded with him as you batted your eyelashes at him, making his interior crumble as Jason can’t say no to you no matter what and no one knew this more then himself. ‘Fine,’ Jason smiled softly at you as he held you close, ‘since you asked so nicely and maybe I’ll let you sleep under my hoodie tonight. How does that sound?’

You hummed as you cuddled into your favourite person in Gotham, clinging onto him like a koala bear. ‘That sounds perfect but anything with you is perfect as it is.’ Jason kissed your forehead. ‘Im glad you agree my little cupboard climber.’

You groan. ‘That is not becoming my new nickname.’

‘Why not I like it?’ Jason defends.

‘Well it lacks severely in the creativity department my jay bird.’ You tell him as he brought you both to the bedroom.

‘I’ll try again tomorrow.’

Damian

Only stares at you as though you grew a second head.

‘Hi dami!’ You greeted as though sitting in a box was the most normal thing that could’ve happened to anyone.

‘My treasure, I’m aware you’re of the shorter stature but this is something else entirely for what purpose does it serve.’ Damian asked as he tried to find it was even possible for someone to do what you did, if anything he would probably see it as a challenge to also somehow fit himself into something ridiculously small.

He almost lost his mind when he couldn’t see you and so to find that you had been here the entity, while relaxed him, only made him feel a little stupefied. He thought you had gotten kidnapped or worse!

‘A quick hideaway, that and something to hold over dicks head because he maybe flexible, but can he fit in a small box? I don’t think so.’ You taunted as you smiled to yourself, already seeing the look up dick’s face when he realises that you bested him in something.

Damian sighed as he kissed your head. ‘You sure can be a handful my dear but I wouldn’t want you any other way.’ He says as you smiled in response, pushing your head further against his lips as you felt accomplished in more ways then one.

‘Thank you dami.’ You said softly as you reached out and held his hand, allowing him to pull you out of the box and into his arms, where you closed your eyes and smiled.

‘You almost scared me my beloved.’ Damian admitted, ‘I thought you were taken.’ He adds as. You tightened your hold on him, giving him reassuring back rubs as you allowed him to cling to you for however long he desired.

‘I’m right here dami, I’m right here.’

[warping-realities]

Parental Pressure 

Eddie watched the personal trainer's video for the thousandth time as he was getting closer to the little gym for his first class. He had snuck out of his house super early and quietly because he knew Nick, his old man, wouldn’t approve of his son wasting time on this kinda stuff. He became a single father really young, back in high school, and now, at 35, he did everything he could to make sure his kid didn’t follow the same path. Becoming a doctor was Nicholas Rousseau’s biggest dream, but early fatherhood messed up his chance to hit the books at college. Not that he blamed Eddie for it; on the contrary, they usually had a solid relationship, except when Eddie strayed from the plans his dad laid out for his future. If Nick couldn’t get into med school, Eddie sure as hell would, whether he liked it or not. And now, with less than a month before college kicked off, Eddie was having doubts about the path laid out for him. So, in a rebellious move, after getting an invite to check out Rocco “Rocky” Mancini's gym, an Italian bodybuilder who moved to the States, now retired and not exactly a big name in the game, who a few years back started hustling as a personal trainer and, according to the promo video on Eddie's Instagram, was looking for young men to boost his portfolio. It looked like that gig wasn’t going great either. The first person to sign up would get a month of free daily training. Perfect for Eddie; after all, a month of training with an expert before college would make things way easier when he had to hit the gym away from his overprotective dad’s watchful eye. Surprisingly he was the first one to sign up! And so, the young  skinny man, with light brown hair found himself stepping into the dimly lit gym at 6 AM.

As he stood frozen at the door, anxiety washing over him, a monstrous figure approached, strutting with swagger, muscles bulging looking like they might burst from the thin layer of skin wrapping them. With a fuller beard and looking at least five years older than in the video Eddie had seen over and over, the guy oozed confidence and a certain arrogance. But those weren’t the only things he was giving off, as it became clear to Eddie when the dude came up to him with a sweaty hand extended to shake, a distinct animal musk dominating his senses.

“You must be Eddie! Nice to meet ya, kid; I’m Rocco, but you can call me Rocky—everyone does. Welcome to my little temple. So, you ever trained before?”

“Ahn, no... I wanted to, but my dad... no, I’ve never trained.”

“Feeling a little bit of Daddy Issues here? Just kidding, son! Where’s your workout gear?”

“I thought, since it’s the first day... I... didn’t bring any...”

“Damn, son, you weren’t kidding when you said you’ve never trained; you don’t have a clue! But don’t sweat it, we’ll fix that! You can wear the shirt; I’ll get you some shorts.”

“I... don’t wanna be a bother.”

“Son, you came here to train, and train is what you’re gonna do. I don’t know what your pops taught you but it looks like you got a lot to learn from me. First thing, you gotta be more assertive—don’t be scared to say what you think or do what you like.”

Hearing that, Eddie felt something shift inside him; the fear and anxiety that had been eating at him for weeks seemed to fade away. He wanted to be there, and nobody was gonna take that away from him, not even his old man.

After hitting the locker room and putting on the shorts Rocco lent him, which were way too big in the legs but surprisingly just right in the waist, Eddie went back to the main room where the personal trainer was waiting for him.

“We gotta fill those shorts, son!”

“That’s why I’m here, Mr. Mancini.”

“Hell yeah! That’s the spirit but none of this Mr. Mancini nonsense; you either call me Rocky or coach.”

“Yes, sir, coach!”

“That’s right! Now, back to our chat, you said you’ve been training for a while, but how long is a while, son?”

That info was totally wrong; he’d never trained, right? But why did he have fuzzy memories of sneaking out to hit the school gym before class during his senior year? If he hadn’t trained, where did those small but tight muscles come from?

“I’ve been training for almost a year, coach, but I don’t think I’ve seen much result.”

“Two more things to teach you, son: first, we’re never happy with the size we are, and second, even so, you’re never gonna downplay your achievements; you’ve done something that most people can’t even pull off. Be proud of that.”

“I... I’m proud, yeah!” he replied, realizing the coach was speaking the truth. He had a lot of pride in what he accomplished, even though he knew he was still far from where he wanted to be.

“Awesome! Now you’re talking like a real champ. But enough chit-chat, let’s see what you’re made of.” Rocco said before putting Eddie through the most grueling workout he’d ever experienced. His self-taught training hadn’t prepared him for this level of exhaustion. After half an hour of intense agony, they took a break, and Eddie tried to recover before what he knew would be another half hour of torture as Rocco praised him.

“Damn, son, all that fuss you had with your pops to come train with me in your junior year was worth it. You’re huge; another minute and that shirt ain’t gonna hold!”

Still exhausted from the workout, Eddie took a moment to wrap his head around what the trainer had said. A fight with his dad...? And training here for at least three years...? No... it didn’t make sense... but then he saw his own reflection in the gym mirror, and he was... fucking swole! And that... that wasn’t just possible; it was thanks to the time he’d spent caring for his body all this while, even with his dad breathing down his neck.

“Thanks, Coach, but I’m still not anywhere near where I wanna be!”

“Well, if you get closer, this shirt definitely isn’t gonna hold. I’ll grab you one of mine, or you can train shirtless until the other clients show up, son. In the meantime, figure out how to get that thing off, but I doubt it’s coming off without tearing. Maybe you should film a video for your social media; I bet your followers will go wild!”

“Haha, I don’t think that they will care, and I feel kinda uncomfortable putting myself out there. So I’ll take the shirt.” Eddie replied as the coach returned with an enormous shirt in hand and offered it to him.

“Son, there’s no reason to be shy about showing off; you sculpted that body for a reason. Don’t tell me that’s another one of your dad’s ideas? You never cared much about what he thinks, and I’ve known you since you were a little brat, fourteen years old, showing up on opening day to get an autograph!”

Once again, Eddie felt something shift inside him; the cordial relationship he had with his overly protective dad was turning into a conflictual one, with both of them constantly arguing about the expectations they had for Eddie’s future, which drove him to practically live at Rocco’s gym, where he helped with maintenance or took care of the place to keep training without having to pay.

“You’re right, as always, Rocky; it’s just that, I dunno... I think this crowd that needs to post everything they do is kinda empty and vain.”

“Son if you don’t show off your gains, you won’t grow your followers, and so what if it seems kinda empty? What matters is being seen. And nobody builds a body like yours without a bit of vanity. I’ll let you keep training; I’ve got a client in twenty minutes. If you need me for anything, just holler.”

“Rocky, I can train better than a lot of pro bodybuilders, man! You know that!”

“Son there’s a fine line between confidence and arrogance! You can strut around all you want with your followers, but don’t come at me with that!” Rocky shot back, though he couldn’t hide a smile of approval.

As the trainer moved away to organize things for his client, Eddie focused on finishing his remaining exercises. Kicking off his sneakers and heading to the squat rack barefoot, he stacked plate after plate until he formed a sizable pile that would surprise anyone. But the truth was, despite the insane weight, it was relatively easy for Eddie. Next, he hit the leg press and finished with deadlifts using a bar that weighed more than a baby rhino. When he sat down to do his last exercise of the day, calves, a distinct funk emanated from his armpits, but mainly from his giant size 14 bare feet. Looking at himself and feeling pumped, he couldn’t resist pulling out his phone to shoot a TikTok video. He was in the middle of recording when Rocky interrupted him.

“Damn, kid, you reek! No offense, we all have a little man funk; I know how it is, but clients are gonna start showing up, so take a shower and let’s get to work.”

“Damn, coach, sometimes you’re worse than my dad.” The kid replied, stopping the recording.

“I am your father, boy!” The older man shot back with a sinister grin and a predatory look at the younger man before continuing. “And if you really wanna please your fans, be a show-off; don’t hide your assets, son; show off that chest and those abs, but hurry up, ‘cause this place is gonna be packed soon. We’re not the biggest gym in town by luck, Wardo. This young stud pose might please your fans, but the morning ladies prefer when you play the part of the innocent bambino.”

This time, the wave of strangeness hit Eddie so hard that he felt dizzy and nauseous, exacerbated by the potent funk he was putting off. And for the first time since he stepped foot in that gym, he fully realized what was going down as he automatically took off his shirt and walked toward one of the gym mirrors, a gym which seemed to expand with every step he took, turning from a small studio into a gigantic complex. As his skin took on an olive tone and his dark brown hair curled into perfect black curls, while his nose turned aquiline like a Roman emperor from antiquity, Eddie struggled within his own mind while Edoardo Mancini took control. If someone could hear the debate between the two, it would sound something like:

“Dude, I am... no, we are what you’ve always wanted to be! Pops gave you this chance; why not embrace it?”

“’Cause I... I’m going to med school...”

“You never wanted that; we never wanted that; that was Nicholas’s thing, not ours. This is our chance to be whoever we wanna be!”

“No... we are what Rocco made us; we’re just trading one controlling dad for another!”

“Not even close, dude! We chose this path; he didn’t pressure us! We followed him out of admiration, and that boosted both his success and ours; we’re legends in the fitness world!”

“Rocco was a mediocre pro... he’s using us for leverage!”

“And what’s wrong with that? We’re getting something out of it too! And how is that different from Nicholas pressuring you?”

“I... I... don’t know...”

“Dude, if you didn’t want this, I wouldn’t be here. Chill and enjoy; besides, Pops already got what he wanted from us. He’s not gonna pressure us to follow in his footsteps. We can be whatever we want: bodybuilders like him, or fitness models, or even kickstart an acting career; and I’m not even talking about porn, even though this big guy between our legs would be a hit. Just accept it.” Wardo said, stroking the giant cock in his mind and in real life.

“I... I... damn... this feels so... fucking... good!”

“Wardo! Wrap it up, kid, and stop playing with that thing; we got a new client coming.” Rocco scolded his son.

“Damn, Pops, another ruined video!”

“You weren’t gonna post that, kid; you wanna get banned from social media?”

“I was just messing around...”

“Kid... you’ve got five minutes to take a shower and get your ass to the front desk.”

“Okay, Dad! Did you hear that, folks? The great Rocco Mancini has spoken, and the good son obeys! I’ll be back with updates soon.” The young man said before stopping the recording.

“I’ll edit it so nothing racy gets out; don’t worry, Dad!”

“Five minutes and counting!” Rocco replied with fake irritation, but in reality, he was puffed up with pride for his son as he headed for the reception, spotting a man in his mid-thirties, wearing glasses and an outfit that screamed he’d never set foot in a gym in his life.

“Good morning, sir; welcome to Rocky's Gym; I’m Rocky Mancini, the owner and head coach. Are you looking for something?”

“Good morning, I’m Nick Rousseau, and I’m actually looking for my son; his phone tracker showed he was here just a few minutes ago before it suddenly stopped working.”

“Tracker? Isn’t that a bit much? Anyway, how old is he and what’s he like? We haven’t had anyone too young around here today, except for my own kid, but if I can help you out…”

“I... I don’t know...”

“You don’t know? What kinda dad doesn’t know how to describe his own kid?”

“I... I...” Nicholas replied, his voice filled with genuine desperation, which made Rocco feel a bit of sympathy, but not enough to stop him from making the next call.

“Hey, Wardo... Wardo!!! Damn kid never listens! Edoardo Mancini!!!!” Rocky yelled while watching Nicholas slightly tremble at the sound of that name.

“What’s up, Pops? I’ll get ready in a sec.” The handsome young man replied as he prepared to flex the powerful muscles that no kid his age could get without maximum dedication, watched by his dad and the other boy.

“Not that, you insubordinate ragazzo! This guy’s looking for his son; has anyone younger shown up today?”

“Nope!” He replied, giving Nicholas a quick glance over the shades he was wearing just for style before turning around and finally heading to the locker room.

“Sorry about that, teenage boys; you know how they are.” Rocco said, smiling at the other man.

“I... know?”

“Didn’t you come looking for your son?”

“Son?? Son... no... I don’t have kids... do I?” Nicholas replied, looking both confused and desperate.

“Are you feeling alright? I’m no doc, but I can try to help.”

“Doc... doctor? No... no need... I’m a doctor.” Nicholas replied with more confidence.

“Seriously? That’s awesome! Doctors are always good clients; they know how to take care of themselves.”

“Client?”

“You didn’t come here to train? We’re in a gym, after all.”

“Of course... I came... to train. You come highly recommended.”

“Modesty aside, it’s because I’m the best. I normally don’t take new clients, but we could use a doctor to evaluate our clients, so we could do a trade; you wouldn’t happen to be a sports doc, would you?”

“No, I…”

“Awesome! Just what I needed! But I can tell you’re already in shape!” Rocco said, grinning. “Let me show you the gym. Normally, this would be Wardo’s job, but the kid’s been so focused on his influencer career that he’s slacking here... between us, I’d rather he be a bodybuilder like me, but I think a dad should respect his kid’s wishes; don’t you think?” Rocco asked, and without waiting for a reply, he continued. “Don’t you wanna have kids? Are you single or married? Dude, if you’re single, I gotta introduce you to my sister; no disrespect to her, ‘cause my mama raised me right, but between us, she’s a total smoke show...” And so he went on while Nicholas followed, not realizing that with every word spoken, his reality was adjusting to the other man’s desires.

Minutes later, Rocco stepped into the locker room bathroom and watched his son recording another video, already showered but still unable to shake off the musk that surrounded him, maybe because he was still wearing the same shorts from his workout. He admired his boy, feeling proud knowing all this was his hard work paying off.

When the young man finished recording, he turned to him.

“Wardo, finish getting dressed and come out here for a minute; I got a surprise for you.”

….

“Hey guys, Wardo Mancini here, and I’ve got some awesome news! You’re probably tired of seeing my pops in my videos, but today, besides him, I wanna introduce you to someone else.” He said, repositioning the camera in the packed gym.

“This handsome fella next to my dad is my doctor, Nic Russo, and on top of that, he’s my uncle, married to my dad’s sister. And now for the biggest news: he’s about to be a dad, and he asked me to be the godfather of his boy! Just think about the genetics of that kid with a dad like this and an uncle like my pops. My uncle says the kid can be whatever he wants, but we all know the iron bug is in our blood, and as far as his godfather is concerned, Rocky Russo is gonna be a champion bodybuilder!”

[runninriot]

The End Of Maybe

written for the @steddiebingo card prompt: proposal & @steddielovemonth day 1

rated: T | wc: 1.223 | tags: established relationship, emotional hurt/comfort, self-doubt, declarations of love, marriage proposal | also on ao3

 

   “Do you ever regret it?” Eddie asks quietly, eyes locked on the ceiling while his fingers are tracing invisible patterns on the skin of Steve’s back.

   “Regret what?”

Steve’s head is resting on Eddie’s chest, basking in the comfort of their shared body heat, still on his come down from an overdose of love-infused ecstasy. Enjoying his boyfriend’s closeness while his mind is happily drifting. Was drifting, until now. Now he’s alert, can sense the shift in Eddie’s mood, the gloomy aura suddenly surrounding him.

Eddie still hasn’t turned his gaze away from where it is fixed on nothing but white paint, stays unmoving even when Steve lifts his head to look at him.

   “Baby? Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on in your head.”

For how talkative Eddie usually is, Steve has long since learned that his boyfriend can be eerily quiet when something is eating away at him. When he’s trying to come up with solutions on his own instead of sharing the burden. Over time, they’ve found a way to meet in the middle – with Steve giving Eddie the space and time he needs to sort through his thoughts and Eddie keeping his promise not to shut Steve out, to share what’s gnawing at him eventually.

   “I mean,” Eddie starts, finally looking down to find Steve’s eyes, shifting so that they’re lying side by side, face to face. Still close despite the emotional distance Steve can feel like a physical wall between them.

   “Do you sometimes regret choosing this over- something else?”

He’s being vague on purpose, not even trying to elaborate what he means and Steve knows why, understands what he’s saying either way. They had this conversation before, once, and ended up in a big fight, maybe their biggest one yet. Because at the time, it had felt like Eddie was trying to push him away, trying to talk him into something he didn’t want out of unfounded fear of Steve changing his mind one day. Having a hard time believing that he chose this life, not despite but because of what it would mean for his future.

For Steve, this has never been temporary; he’s always been all in. Wants to spend the rest of his days with Eddie, through the good and the bad and everything.

   “Never,” Steve finally says, keeping his voice soft but making sure the message is clear, “I want this and nothing else. I love our life with everything we have. I love you. You know that, right?”

Without waiting for an answer, Steve leans in for a kiss, a firm press of lips to emphasise his words.

He knows it’s just a little bump in the road, just Eddie being in his head – it happens every now and then, it’s okay, nothing to really worry about. But still, Steve hates to see Eddie sad.

   “I know you do, I just- I don’t know.”

Eddie sighs, buys himself time by stealing another tender kiss from his boyfriend, and Steve lets him get away with it.

   “Where’s this coming from, baby? Did I do or say something that made you think I’ve changed my mind?”

   “No! No, you did nothing, I- I guess I’m just scared.”

With one hand, Steve cups the side of Eddie’s face, thumb gently stroking over his cheekbone, not saying anything but patiently waiting for him to go on.

   “I know you love me, that’s not what I’m worried about. I just sometimes wonder if it’s truly worth giving up so many of your dreams for this. For me.”

Steve knows what Eddie is referring to, even without him having to spell it out. It is true, there had been a time where Steve’s biggest dream was to have a wife and kids, a whole bunch of them, living a quiet small-town life with his picture-perfect family.

But that was before Eddie came along. Before he fell heart over head in love with a wonderful young man, with the prettiest smile and dark brown eyes that make him weak, still, after all those years. Sure, he’d be lying if he said he never asked himself that same question, wondering if being with Eddie was worth facing all the battles they had to fight. If loving Eddie was worth letting go of the future he’d always thought he wanted for himself.

But the answer is still the same as it has been for over 6 years now – yes. A thousand times yes. Because the truth is, he didn’t give up a dream, he created a new one. With Eddie at the centre of everything, he’s built a life that is better than anything he could’ve imagined.

Nothing compares to being loved by Eddie, and nothing could ever make this relationship any more perfect. Except maybe…

He shoots up so sudden it startles Eddie, who reluctantly obeys when Steve beckons him to sit.

   “What-”

Steve doesn’t give him a chance to finish his sentence, presses the tip of his finger against Eddie’s lips to shut him up – not to be rude; he just needs him to listen to what he has to say before he loses his courage.

   “You’re it for me, okay? You are everything I need to be happy and I- I want to grow old with you, want to spend the rest of my life with you. You are all I want, now and forever.”

Steve swallows roughly, has to take a few deep breaths, can already feel the burning of tears in his eyes.

Robin will lose her mind. Will probably also give him a lot of shit for doing it like this, here, in the isolated cocoon of their bedroom rather than making it the big, pompous surprise they always joked about in secret. When they talked about the hypothetical maybe of Steve proposing one day.

Truth is, Steve has been thinking about it a lot in the past, about asking Eddie to take this next big step with him. Not for the sake of making at least one of his younger self’s dreams a reality, but because he wants to be Eddie’s in every way possible. Is more than willing to give up a name that means nothing to him for one that means love and trust and family.

   “Eddie, baby, will you marry me?”

He waits for the words to sink in, anxiously watching Eddie go through all the stages of understanding what Steve is asking him.

   “Are you-” Realisation.

   “Do you really-” Disbelief.

   “You want to-” Reassurance.

   “Oh my God, yes! YES!” Eddie finally answers with a trembling voice and eyes full of tears.

They’re both shedding tears of joy now, arms wrapped around each other, kissing, and smiling and kissing some more until just kissing is no longer enough. When the need to be closer overcomes them and whispered declarations of love and devotion turn into something a lot more obscene. When their bodies demand to become one in heated passion, euphoric and wild and sweet.

And when they come undone for the second time this night, it feels different in a way, new. Because it’s their first time as soon-to-be husbands. Falling apart together, with all their love carved into a promise to mark the end of maybe and the beginning of forever – no after – just them ‘til the end.

[babydollslibrary]

QUESTION…? — QUINN HUGHES

quinn hughes x fem!reader

published: February 4th, 2023

summary: in which Quinn and sunshiny good girl, y/n, have harbored feelings for each other for a while. but when they finally hookup, Quinn leaves in the middle of the night and let’s y/n believe maybe it was just a one night fling.

specific lyrics: “good girl, sad boy.” and “did you ever have someone kiss you in a crowded room and every single one of your friends was making fun of you but fifteen seconds later they were clapping too? then what did you do? did you leave her house in the middle of the night?”

warnings: kinda steamy but no NSFW. profanity.

not my gif

contrary to popular belief, i’m not oblivious to the irony of Quinn Hughes and i being best friends. the optimistic, always happy, constantly smiling hopeless romantic being best friends with the pessimistic, always looks miserable, rarely smiling hockey player? yeah, it’s baffled our other friends for years.

but when asked, i can’t really explain it. Quinn and i just click. we know what makes the other happy, or sad, or angry. it’s easy for us to be around each other. and we’re understanding of each other. i don’t push him to talk, and he’s one of the rare few who will just sit and listen to me ramble without asking me to shut up. as like all best friends we’re really close. we like to think we have no secrets. that we tell each other everything.

but, i have one.

i’m in love with my best friend.

i never meant for it to happen. when we became friends, i was actually glad to finally meet a guy that just wanted to be friends. no underlying motives, no moves being pulled. just friends. but eventually my feelings changed. it wasn’t all at once, like i read about in my romance novels. no. the changes were gradual. it started slowly, with me seeking him out more than my other friends. then it turned into getting butterflies in my stomach when we touched, no matter if we were holding hands, linked arms, or if i was just sitting close enough to him on the couch that our thighs touched. at first i chalked it up to him just being my best friend, but then the dreams started happening. dreams where he and i were dating. and eventually sleeping dreams turned into daydreams. and then i finally realized my true feelings. i’m in love with my best friend.

i’ve spent the better half of our four year friendship hiding my feelings from him, too scared that confessing might ruin our friendship. he’s never given me any reason to assume that he feels the same way, so i keep my feelings locked in a box in the back of my mind, only let free when i’m alone and daydreaming about what life would be like if we were more than friends.

i’ve since then gone on several dates with numerous guys, trying to find someone who makes me feel the way Quinn does, but it’s been a moot effort. every guy has been missing the spark that i feel between Quinn and i. and i always end up back to the beginning, spending my nights hanging out with my best friend and just hoping i’m strong enough not to spill my secret.

which brings us to now, where i’m mentally screaming over how good Quinn looks in his white button down shirt and black dress pants. it’s new year’s eve, and most of the Canucks team, their partners, and a few friends are lounged around Elias’s house. with five minutes until the new year, i’m sat on the couch clutching a glass of champagne, my sixth of the night, and animatedly chatting with Quinn, who looks like he would rather be anywhere else. but i’ve learned by now that that’s just his resting facial expression.

“alcohol makes you chatty, doesn’t it y/n?” Elias laughs from his spot in the chair a few feet away from us. i stop talking, letting out a weak chuckle. it’s not like i’m unused to comments like that, i’m often told that i talk a lot, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting a little.

“it does. but i like it. i like listening to her talk.” Quinn defends. my heart flutters in my chest at his words. a blush coating my cheeks. “now back to what you were saying, y/n.”

i blink a few times, just staring at my best friend in front of me before i begin to speak.

“oh. i was just saying that i think my parents want me to visit soon. but i was done speaking.” i shrug.

“no, you weren’t.” Quinn’s brows furrow and he wears a scowl. “you were still talking.”

“well, i was about done anyways. but i can keep talking.” Quinn’s lips quirk in a half smile and he nods for me to continue. “well, i do think the concept of new years is pretty weird. and some of the traditions that people have are weird as well. like-”

i’m cut off by the simultaneous chants of the people surrounding us. counting down from ten. i smile and my face lights up. i love this part of the holiday.

“SEVEN! SIX! FIVE!” i sigh as i watch couples pair off, ready to kiss their other half a happy new year, a longing look in my eye. i feel Quinn shift beside me, his thigh pressing closer into mine. but my eyes are locked on my friends all smiling at their significant others, so happy and in love. i want that.

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!” i’m snapped out of my thoughts by a hand grasping my chin. my face is turned and i’m able to catch a quick glimpse of Quinn’s eyes before my lips are covered by his. his hands move to cup my face, his lips moving over mine. it takes me a second of hesitation to realize what’s happening and my heart speeds up. i snap out of my trance in time to move my lips, locking us into a slow and passionate kiss.

“GO HUGGY! FINALLY!” i hear someone yell and everyone laughs, cracking jokes about how long it took for us to kiss. Quinn pulls back to lock eyes with me, his chest rising and falling with quick breaths. he gives me a small smile before leaning in and capturing my lips with his once more. our friends start clapping and i smile into the kiss, making him pull away once again. this time he pulls away completely, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and pulling me close to him.

what did that mean? does he like me the way that i like him? or was it just a midnight kiss between friends? is this gonna change anything, or are we just going to move past this like it didn’t happen? does he realize how much this means to me? my head is swarmed with questions that i may never know the answers to.

i stay glued to his hip for the rest of the night, my head still reeling from the kiss. not long after midnight, everyone starts to head home, and i follow Quinn out to his car so he can give me a ride. he opens the passenger seat for me, helping me in before shutting it and jogging around the front of the car, slipping into the drivers seat. the drive is unusually quiet, my usual chattiness drifted away after our kiss. instead i’m stuck inside my own mind, still wondering what it meant. when he pulls up and parks in a spot outside my apartment complex, he turns to look at me, and i manage a smile.

“you okay?” he asks. “you’ve been quiet.”

“yeah, i’m fine. just figured i’d give you a reprieve.” i joke. his expression tells me he didn’t appreciate my attempt.

“don’t do that.” he says.

“do what?”

“don’t let what Elias said get into your head. i love that you never stop talking. i like seeing you happy.”

okay he needs to stop talking before i do something monumentally stupid. like kiss him again.

“don’t worry, Quinny. i’m not gonna go silent on you. i was just joking.” i smile. “who else can i talk about all my star wars theories with, without them calling me a nerd?”

he laughs and unbuckles his seatbelt.

“you wanna come in and drink some wine while i tell you about how i think Palpatine is actually Anakin’s father?” i ask, and he nods.

“what else would i do?” he jokes sarcastically.

we get out of the car and Quinn leads the way up to my apartment, having been here hundreds of times in the past four years. i unlock my door and call out to my cat that i’m home. within seconds she comes around the corner, and Quinn scoops her up in his arms, cradling her like a baby. i listen to him coo at her as i grab a bottle of wine off my kitchen counter and pour two glasses.

within a few minutes, Quinn and i are sat on my bed, drinking our wine as i lay my feet in his lap and talk to him about my theory. Quinn listens intently, as if he hasn’t already heard it a million times, and absentmindedly lays his hand on my ankle, sending a spark up my leg.

“anyways, enough about that.” i finish. “how’s your mom? i heard you on the phone with her earlier. I miss Ellen.”

he smiles, a rare genuine grin at the mention of his family.

“she’s good.” he nods. “she misses you too. keeps telling me to bring you to the lake house this summer.”

“we’ll if that’s your way of offering, then i accept.” i tell him before joking- “i miss my favorite Hughes brother.”

“there’s no way that Luke is your favorite. i call bullshit.”

“you call bullshit every time i say it, but i still remain adamant. he’s the sweetest.” i tease. “he told me last summer that if i ever decide that i like younger guys, he’ll take me out. maybe i’ll finally take him up on that offer.”

Quinn raises an eyebrow, tickling the inside of my ankles as he speaks.

“oh please. he wouldn’t know how to handle you.”

i bark out a laugh and nudge his thigh with my foot.

“and just what is that supposed to mean?” i ask.

“it means that whatever man you finally decide is good enough for you, needs to appreciate you. he needs to love how much you like to speak, and your hopeless romantic side. he needs to appreciate that you always look on the bright side of things, and find a silver lining in everything. he needs to remember that you’re a sunrise person, preferring the beginning of a new day rather than the end, so you prefer your dates as brunch or picnics or going to a museum rather than dinner or a movie. and Luke is not that guy.”

my heart melts at his words. the fact that he knows these things about me and believes that i deserve to find someone who won’t make me compromise those parts of myself.

and there i go, doing something monumentally stupid, because before i can take a second to think before i react, i lean over and press my mouth to his. his lips lock with mine, moving slowly. i open my mouth, letting his tongue roam freely over mine. Quinn grasps my hips, pulling me in closer so that i’m straddled over his lap, and i roll my hips, lightly grinding down onto him, making him let out a groan.

he tastes like red wine and mint, an odd combination, but not a bad one. his hands slip under my top, skimming my bare skin as he settles them at my waist and pulls me closer. my chest is flush against his now, every breath i take making my nipples brush against his chest, sending pleasure driven shivers down my body, straight to my core.

“please.” i whisper against his lips.

“please what, y/n?” his voice is raspy, laced with lust and seduction.

“please Quinn. please fuck me.” i whimper as he pulls me down to roll over his quickly hardening length.

“whatever you want, baby.”

**

my eyes squint against the light coming in from my bedroom windows as i finally come to. it takes me a couple seconds to remember why i’m naked. and when the memories of the night before flash in my mind, i smile, rolling over in my bed to face Quinn. but his spot is empty. i reach over to feel cold sheets. he’s been gone awhile.

when did he leave? why did he leave?

tears prick at the back of my eyes, but i blink them away. he could just be in the kitchen. rising from my bed, i throw on an oversized t-shirt and some underwear as i glance around my room. his clothes are gone, the only ones left scattered on my floor being my own, sending another sinking feeling in my gut.

i leave my room, walking to my kitchen only for it to be empty. i check my bathroom, my living room, and my guest room, only for all of them to come up empty as well.

he left.

i finally let my tears fall, collapsing on my couch. i thought maybe he liked me, but was last night just an easy fuck for him? did he not want me in the way that i want him? in a relationship sense?

**

it’s been four days since Quinn and i slept together, and we haven’t spoken or seen each other in those days. it’s not unusual for us to not talk or see each other for a few days, but after our night together, i wasn’t expecting the complete silence. i told myself i would confront him the next time i see him, but the thought makes me anxious.

with the Canucks having two nights off in a row, a lot of them are going out to a bar, and as a close friend of the team, i was invited. Andrei didn’t tell me who all is coming though, so as i walk into the bar right now, i worry over the possibility of being confronted with Quinn.

my eyes roam the bar, searching for my friends, and when i finally spot them, i feel both relieved and anxious. i don’t see Quinn. i make my way over to them, giving hugs and fist bumps as i say my hello’s.

“i’m gonna go order a drink.” i let them know, but as i turn around, i see Quinn, who seems to be returning from the restroom. we lock eyes and he veers course, coming to a stop in front of me.

“hey.” he greets me, pulling me into a quick hug. my arms stay glued to my sides.

“hey.” i say weakly. before i can lose my confidence i speak again. “can we talk?”

Quinn nods and tips his head over towards an empty booth across the room. i lead the way over to it, taking a seat on one side while he takes the seat across from me.

“what’s up?” he asks, and i take a second to study his expressionless face. does he really not know what this is about?

“can i ask you a question?” i ask.

“yeah, of course.” he replies. he lifts the hat off his head and sweeps a hand through his hair before replacing the hat. i swallow the lump in my throat and take a deep breath.

“why did you leave?” i manage to get out.

“what?”

“that night. why did you leave? i woke up the next morning and you were gone.” i explain. he opens his mouth but i continue speaking. “i just need to know. did it mean nothing to you? because that night meant everything to me. and i was under the impression that it may have meant something to you, but then you left without even saying goodbye and it made me feel…cheap. so i just want you to be honest with me Quinn, did it? mean anything to you?”

Quinn’s nostrils flare and he winces, as if my words were hard for him to hear.

“of course. it meant so much to me, y/n. but it all happened so fast and right after i said those nice things. so, i laid awake overthinking. and i got it into my head that maybe you were just overwhelmed with what i had said and acted on impulse. that maybe it was just one night for you. and i could take that, so i left. i thought maybe that’s what you wanted me to do.” his voice is soft, barely audible over the commotion of the bar, and his words only make me more upset.

“so you didn’t think to talk to me? you just left?” my words are sharp, my tone incredulous. “if you would’ve talked to me then you would’ve known that i really like you, Quinn. i’ve been in love with you for two years. i wanted that night to happen. it wasn’t just a night for me. was the decision impulsive? maybe. but i thought about that happening between us for years. i wanted it. i want you. not just for one night, but forever.”

his hand snakes across the table, clasping my own.

“i want you too. forever. god, y/n, i’ve been in love with you since i met you. but i knew how much you’d been through with past relationships and i didn’t want to push you. and then when i thought enough time had passed, i didn’t want to ruin our friendship, so i took you in any way i could have you. if that was just as your best friend, then so be it. but i don’t want to be your best friend anymore, y/n/n.”

my head reels with his words, thinking back over them. wait what?

“what?” i whisper, my voice shaky.

“if you can forgive me for being an idiot and jumping to conclusions, i’d really like to be your boyfriend.”

my heart races, and i look into his eyes, seeing nothing but sincerity.

“i’d really like that. but you can’t leave me like that again, Quinn.”

“i don’t think i ever want to leave you again.” he tells me. he stands, taking my hand in his and pulling me up so hard that i crash into his chest. he wraps his arms around my waist, leaning down and letting his lips graze mine, smiling. “my mom is gonna freak when i tell her we’re finally dating.”

my head drops back in a laugh before i tease-

“oh no, how am i gonna break this to Luke?”

[planetallure]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ fic recs

CW: these works contain explicit content intended for those 18+. make sure to read the rules of the writers before interacting.

@peterthepark : coming back to this blog made me realize when exactly i started back reading fanfic fr. the moment that was eddie mf munson, touched something in me. reign was one of my first intros that really stuck with me. it kinda blew my mind and scared me at the same time because i was like…how do i move on…what’s better than this??? brilliance. creative genius. like what more do you want from me? reign, i miss you. <3

i rec literally anything she’s written about eddie or tasm!peter parker.

@ohcaptains : i really don’t know what to tell you man. leah. is. HER. she simply does not miss. funny story: when i first started my old blog, it was ageless so i ended up getting blocked. so i pm’d her basically begging to come back home because i knew what i had lost. i’m not ashamed.

"dealers choice" - if you happened to miss the moment that was eddie munson or you miss his character or you were never really into him, this lil universe is for you. <3

"learning in public" - carmy x fem!reader. he needs it. he wants it. he has to have it. a man on his knees. enjoy.

"don't you dare fall in love" - heads up this one was discontinued and will not be continued (so don’t go harassing her about it) but the last part has an open ending so don’t let that stop you. college student/dealer!ellie x fem!reader. it’s beautiful and perfect. enjoy.

also ALL of her frank castle, abby anderson, tasm!peter parker fics. thank youuu

@inknopewetrust : this woman is a W R I T E R. the beautiful angsty things that come from her brain need to be cherished. thank you for your service.

“hoping i’ll find [a glimpse of us]” - when i tell you this shit was so fricking good!!!!!?! another piece of LITERATURE that i couldn’t believe i got to read for free on tumblr. i am such a sucker for a angsty slow burn and this still lives in me head rent free to this day. the tension had me giggling and laughing and biting my nail and crying. i need to spin back. i need to feel something!!

“secret” : now this one was a sexy forbidden romance. eddie’s our man who isn’t our man but is and oh m gee the angst in this one got me too, though it wasn’t as much. preppy!reader x eddie munson iykyk.

@etherealising : the absolute sweetest person i’ve met on here. every interaction i have with her just makes me smile. on TOP of that she’s a beautiful writer and storyteller. vee you have my heart.

“all i ever knew only you” - the best carmy x oc fic i’ve ever had the pleasure of reading on here. i’m so emotionally attached to this series, its characters and i think it has such re-readablity . the characterization is also so well done carmy x baby 4life. it’s currently discontinued but she is currently doing a rewrite and it’s going really well! in the meantime, please don’t let that stop you from reading the original while it’s still up. you won’t regret it.

“a buried and a burning flame” - vee single-handedly has me looking a richie different now. like…wait a minute :)) the bickering and banter is so fun. tension? check. spice?? check.

“flew like a moth to you” - a continuation of the one above. babyyyy!!! yes, yes, uh huh 🙂‍↕️ these two? LOVE EM. he’s officially in my heart.

@totheblood : star is so kind and super creative. she has created some of my favorite ellie williams smau’s on here.

"the hard way" - rockstar!ellie williams x ex-gf!reader smau. you guys are brought together again to solve the mystery that is the anonymous account blackmailing the two of you. mmm, nothing like the takedown of a shady mf to bring the girls together again :)

@cherriesxinthespring : another sweetheart with a beautiful mind. ik people get the characterization/true nature of ellie so wrong, but not rosie. she gets it.

“wasteland, baby!” - the wlw true enemies to lovers slow burn i’ve been dreaming of. tap in. right now.

@elliesbelle

“nobody compares to you” : a deliciously angsty slow burn second chance romance (ex!ellie x f!reader)

all the text convos for abby and ellie.

@newasskid : this blog makes me so nostalgic. THE first fic series that i read and rebloged when i started my first ff blog, came from this writer. i honestly feel it was my first time reading fanfic that wasn’t a silly little wattpad story or imagine and i was honestly gagged. i was like, “this…this is literature.” what can i say? i love good ass characterization! and this one was no exception.

“hard knock life” - like i said i was gagged with how good it was. i read the first two chapters back in 2022 and i still remember the feeling i felt reading them. this new blog i’m making is a fresh start for me and a chance for me to get back into old fandoms. will be revisiting this one soon.

@lovelettersfromluna

"one of your girls" - biker!ellie/roommate!ellie/camgirl!ellie x f!reader ALL rolled into to this ridiculously sexy little universe!! i love these two so much :’(

"compass" - vampire!ellie !!!! my new favorite thing. the way luna writes her feeding on reader ALONE is the most erotic and intimate thing. my god this was hot.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

sending all of this beautiful writers my love and respect y’all are amazing and so important. <3

[pickingupmymercedes]

Longer than I care to admit 1/3 - Lewis Hamilton

A special trilogy part of 1K Jukebox Event

Longer than I care to admit (pt.1) | Even when I said I didn't (pt.2) | When hating you was all I wanted (pt.3).

song: You're in love - Taylor Swift

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

genre: there's angst but it'll be worth it (promise)

wordcount: +1k

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

This city never truly slept, and neither did its people.

That’s one of the things I’ve learned to accept about Los Angeles, the way it hums even in the dead of night. The cars, the voices, the low bass thumping from the hills—it all reminds me that everyone here is chasing something.

Fame, money, love, escape.

Me though? I’m just chasing quietness.

“Do you want to take the canyon road?” I ask, keeping my eyes on the road but sneaking a glance at Lewis. He looks good, but that’s nothing new.

The man could wear a potato sack and make it look like part of his Dior collection.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice low, like the weight of the city is still clinging to him. “Let’s get away from all this.”

I nod, not bothering to fill the silence. We’ve been driving for twenty minutes already, leaving the lights and noise behind.

It’s funny—most people would think Lewis would crave excitement all the time, but moments like this prove otherwise. He likes the quiet.

Craves it, even.

And honestly? I do too.

But I know what this drive really is. It’s his way of sitting with whatever’s been on his mind lately.

He’s been doing that a lot more these days, sitting with things.

It’s the way he glances at me when he thinks I’m not paying attention, the thoughtful silences that stretch just a bit longer than usual. I can feel him realizing it, slowly but surely.

It’s the casual comments he drops—“You’d love Europe this time of year” or “My house in Monaco’s been too quiet without you”—that hang in the air a beat too long.

Indirect invitations, nudges toward a conversation I keep dodging.

He doesn’t push. But he’s persistent in his own way. A suitcase for me always in the trunk, Roscoe’s bed permanently stationed in the corner of my living room.

He’s falling deeper.

We’re falling deeper.

And that scares the hell out of me.

“Do you ever stop thinking?” I finally ask, breaking the silence. I don’t look at him, but I know he’s smiling. I can feel it.

“Just enjoying the drive,” he says, his voice light but not convincing.

 “You? Enjoying a drive when you’re not behind the wheel? That’s a plot twist.” I say with a snort.

He chuckles, and it warms the space between us. “I don’t mind when it’s you.”

“Charmer” I tease.

He laughs, a deep, rich sound that makes me smile. “For you. Always”

“Right” I say, glancing at him with a playful smirk.

But as we keep driving, I feel his gaze linger on me longer.

And I know that look. It’s the same one that’s been sneaking up on me more often these days. It’s soft and thoughtful, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say it’s love.

Scratch that. I do know better. And that’s the problem.

“What’s that look for?” I ask, breaking the tension before it drowns me.

“Just thinking” he says softly.

I raise an eyebrow. “About?”

“How lucky I am that you’re a decent driver.”

I roll my eyes, but I can’t help but smile. “Ridiculous.”

But deep down, I know he’s deflecting, just like I am.

In a while we pull into a small lookout point, one of those hidden gems you only find if you know where to look. The city stretches out below us, a million lights twinkling under a blanket of stars.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” I say, cutting the engine. My eyes on the view, although I can feel him watching me.

“Yeah” he murmurs.

There’s a weight to his voice, and I know he’s not talking about the view.

He does this sometimes, makes me feel like the only thing in the world worth looking at. It’s overwhelming.

Too much and not enough, all at once.

“Sometimes I forget how nice it is to just stop and take it all in,” I say, trying to ground myself.

He nods, but the tension between us doesn’t ease. If anything, it gets worse, wrapping around us in the silence.

I know he’s waiting. Waiting for the right moment to say something. To let the weight of whatever’s on his mind finally spill out.

The drive back is quieter, the kind of silence that isn’t uncomfortable but still carries weight. When we finally pull into my driveway, I sigh. “Home sweet home,” I say lightly, though there’s a flicker of reluctance in my chest.

We go through the motions—shoes off, keys on the counter, jackets draped over chairs. It’s familiar, easy.

And that’s one of the things that scares me the most. How easy it’s all become.

“Do you ever just go straight to bed?” Lewis asks, leaning against the bathroom doorway, arms crossed over his chest like he owns the place.

Spoiler: he kind of does.

I couldn’t even count anymore the times he’d left LA swearing he wouldn’t come back, wouldn’t let himself do it again.

And every time, he found himself at my door again. My home feeling more like his than anywhere else.

His clothes hanging in my closet. Roscoe’s leash by the kitchen counter. Even his scent clinged to the sheets long after he’d left.

I smirk as I peel off my clothes, not bothering to be modest. “You know the answer to that.”

“Yeah, I do,” he says, his eyes trailing over me, a teasing smirk playing on his lips. “Still find it funny, like the bed will disappear if you don’t shower first.”

I grab my towel and give him a pointed look. “I don’t like feeling gross when I sleep. Some of us have standards, Hamilton.”

He chuckles, stepping aside as I head into the shower. “Standards, huh? And yet you still let me in your bed.”

I laugh as I step under the water. “Barely.”

When I come out, wrapped in one of his old T-shirt, that still smells faintly of him, I find him already in bed, scrolling through his phone, naked chest and tattoo on full display.

His braids are loose and the soft glow of the screen highlights his features in a way that makes my heart squeeze.

“Feel better?” he asks without looking up.

“Much,” I reply, but instead of getting into bed, I head for the door. “Be right back. Tea?”

He smiles. “Always.”

A few minutes later, I return with two mugs, handing him one before settling in beside him.

My feet, as usual, find his legs, and he groans. “Jesus, Y/n, your feet are freezing.”

“Don’t be a baby,” I tease, taking a sip of my tea. “You’re warm enough for both of us.”

I need the joke to deflect how I knew exactly how he liked his tea, down to the perfect balance of milk and sugar.

It was such a small thing, but yet, I knew it hit him every time.

We sit in comfortable silence, his arm around me, my head resting on his chest. His heartbeat is steady, grounding me in a way nothing else really does.

“Early flight tomorrow?” I ask, my voice casual.

“Yeah.”

I nod, my gaze dropping to my tea.

The words sit heavy on my tongue, but I can’t bring myself to say them.

Not yet. Not until he does.

So instead, I just lean into him, letting the steady rise and fall of his chest lull me into a sense of safety as he presses a soft kiss to the top of my head.

Someday, I think. Someday, I’ll be brave enough.

Just not tonight.

_____________________________________________________________

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[ravcnism]

STRIKEOUT. ( PART 2 ) — KEN SATO x Male!Athlete READER

Summary: An after-party. A conversation-turned-confrontation. Kenji finally meets the esteemed Toyo Bullet and struggles to define the difference between anger, terror, and infatuation.

# # TAGS: Even More Tension, Kenji Has a Good Relationship with His Team, Intense First Encounter, Domestic Sato Family Shenanigans

# # WARNINGS: Mature Language, Alcohol Consumption, Nothing Too Crazy, No Beta Again We Die Like Onda

Note: Okay, here we go: the actual second part. Again, I am so sorry for accidentally publishing my draft earlier — I am ill with embarrassment. But I’m very happy to know that people look forward to it! If you read the false-post, then you’ve only read half of the chapter. This one has over 3000 words more! Enjoy.

“It was a nail-biter of a game here at the New Tokyo stadium tonight, folks. Right off the bat, both teams were going neck and neck, toe-to-toe. And it seemed like neither one was willing to give an inch! Our home team managed to pull off a narrow victory in the end, and by narrow, I mean narrow, Kiba.”

“That is absolutely right, Sasaki. I truly have never seen anything like it in my entire career. And you know- you know I know a lot of baseball. You know I’ve been doing this for many years, but wow! Just- insane.”

“Truly a close call. Eight additional innings? To break the tie? I cannot believe it. Let me tell you, neither the Hiroshima Toyo Carp nor the Yomiuri Giants wanted to lose today.”

“If you look at the crowd, It looks like everyone’s been wanting to go home.”

Exhausted was an understatement. Kenji hadn’t felt this drained after a game since, well, only months ago: when he was still juggling the responsibilities of raising a baby Kaiju, carrying the weight of being Ultraman, and maintaining his reputation as a well-known baseball player. All of these, on top of the sleepless nights, no longer hindered him from his work. He usually left the stadium feeling brand new every single time — regardless of whether they won or lost. He had grown and learned to lean on people, to ask for help, accept defeat. Which was good and all that, but the point was: he was exhausted from this game. You had him panting for air like an overworked dog.

Shimura had Kenji on the field for longer than he should have been. While his younger, more egotistical self might have loved his moment in the spotlight, running base to base for six innings in a row was unsurprisingly really tiring. The teams had hit a clean tie by the ninth inning, and the tie-breaker lasted for eight more. You were eating their rookies alive and having their journeymen for dessert. When Shimura realized that Sato was the only one batting your pitches, he had him play for every round after the tie. The only times Kenji wasn’t on the field was when you weren’t either. Which wasn’t a lot. It scared him how you looked like you could throw that ball for days.

“Hiroshima’s L/n is just- an absolute unit, isn’t he?”

“He certainly is, Kiba. He certainly is. I mean his performance was near inhuman tonight. Each pitch was a gem and we- he really wanted us to know that he’s here, he’s ready, and he’s willing to change Japanese baseball. He was a major force out there on the field.”

“I cannot agree with you more. But credit where credit is due, we all know that the only reason the Giants are coming home with tonight’s win is because of none other than Ken Sato himself.”

“That’s right, Sato really put up a fight. L/n was throwing him off balance every time, but he always found his footing. I think tonight might have been the hardest I’ve seen him work. You know he- he usually makes his plays look effortless — disregarding last season’s slump.”

“I say he held his own very, very impressively. The team was right to rely on him. I know we’ve spoken a lot about their tension, but I’d say it’s their dynamic that really drove the point home. They were like- mirrors of each other out there. When you put two equal forces together, they deflect. You know what I’m saying?”

Kenji’s hand shook with a weakness he wasn’t familiar with. He stared at his calloused palm and noticed his fingers twitching. Shit. It really was some game. He might have been hitting the ball, but he was barely getting it through the field. Not only were your pitches fast, but there was weight to them, too. He was witnessing the caliber of your capabilities; understanding why you were the talk of every city.

The rest of the Giants came walking into the locker room, jeering and laughing amongst themselves. “That L/n is a real piece of work, ain't he?” Shirakumo, number 24, sat himself next to Kenji, unlacing his shoe. “Never seen anything like it.”

“Did you see the look on Tateoka’s face?” Yuki laughed, smacking his thigh. “Dude was scared shitless!”

“Hey!” Tateoka frowned in reply, tugging his jersey off his arms. “You try standing in front of that guy and telling me you don't feel a little threatened.” He shuddered, remembering the look in your eyes. Dark and pointed and menacing. “He was staring me down like he was gonna—”

“Eat you alive?” Kenji scoffed.

The team went silent, then erupted into a cluster of teasing ‘oooh’s. God. It reminded him of highschool.

“Oohh, yeah.” Yamada, number 21, slid over to him with a teasing tone. He wrapped an arm around Kenji’s shoulder and squeezed him closer. “I don't think I've ever seen Sato so shaken!”

He laughed, playfully pushing him away. He was also actually really sore on that shoulder. Hell, he could already feel the pain he’d need to go through just to get up tomorrow. He was going to need another ice bath. The rest of the boys jumped in on the jokes.

“Did you see the way he was looking at you Ken?” Tokuda opened his locker, grabbing a shirt from the top shelf. He whistled. “Like he wanted your head on a plate.”

Tanaka chuckled. “He wanted you dead, man!”

Kenji rolled his eyes. “Alright, alright. Let's not get carried away. I never said I was shaken.”

“But that last bat was sweet as hell.” Yuki nodded. “I doubt any of us would've gotten through the guy if it weren't for Sato.”

“Well, duh.” Shirakumo shrugged. None of the Giants denied it. Ken was their star player. And tonight proved it more than ever. “We owe you for drinks, bud. Give us a date and we'll treat ya’ to someplace you like.” He slapped Ken’s back affectionately, which elicited a pained groan. “Shit, sorry.”

Kenji’s watch started beeping. He flinched at the sound, eyes widening slightly. “Uh, see you in a sec, guys. I gotta take this.”

He was there a moment, then gone the next. Kenji rushed himself out the hallways and into an empty locker room to answer Mina’s call. “Hey!” he greeted, anxiously. A screen projected itself from his watch and lit up his face. “Hey. Hi. What's wrong? Everyone alright? I know I said I'd be home soon, but the game took way longer than–”

He was interrupted by cheering. His father clapped and whooped with excitement as Emi occupied the background, screeching with glee. Kenji could see the ground shaking as she was jumping around and doing her special dance. One of Mina’s arms was protruding from the wall and waving celebratory flags. It immediately put a smile on his face, easing the tension from his shoulders. He was always happy to see everyone alright, and even happier to see them as their silly selves.

“Kenji!” cheered Hayao. “That was an incredible game! You were unstoppable!” The professor chuckled. Emi picked him up into a hug, slightly toppling the camera over. His legs swung like a ragdoll’s. “Okay, okay girl-”

Ken laughed, slightly shaking his head. “Easy, Emi. Put Grandpa down.”

“It was a very impressive game, Ken. Perhaps one of your bests.” Mina’s calculative yet affectionate voice echoed from his watch.

Hayao fell to the floor with an ‘oof’. “You didn't tell me you were playing against THEE Mets’ Bullet!” He scrambled to stand up, barely leaning on his cane. “I wasn’t even aware that he was signed into the Carp!”

Kenji’s smile immediately faded. “Okay.” He rolled his eyes. “He was alright, I guess. And we don’t actually know if he signed into it or if he was traded. We barely heard anything about him from the press.”

“Alright?” Professor Sato gasped, appalled. “Kenji, he was spectacular! He’s a lot like you, you know. I’ve always suspected that the both of you equalled in skill, but to see it in action? Phew.” He wiped some pretend sweat off of his forehead. “What a show! Eight extra innings to break a tie? Unbelievable! I highly doubt that he was traded. Who in their right mind would purposely lose a player like that?”

Kenji scoffed. “He wasn’t that good.” His sore limbs would like to say otherwise.

“He had you chasing after his pitches like a dog!”

“I don’t like that analogy.”

“I ought’ to rewatch that documentary they made about him. You know they’ve done studies on the physics of his throws.”

“Dad.”

“And how fortunate for Hiroshima to have gotten him out of all teams! I can tell that this season is going to turn around really fast. Just today he’s already scored-”

“Dad!”

“Oh. Sorry.” Hayao chuckled. “I’m just very excited to see the both of you on the same field.” Kenji sighed, nodding his head. “Anyway, congratulations on the win, my boy. I’m so proud of you. I always am. Get home safe. It may be late, but we still have a lot of leftovers from dinner!” Emi made a noise that let him know she was waiting, too.

Going home sounded like heaven. Ken wanted nothing more but to rest. Maybe kick back and have a chocolate shake while he and his family watched cartoons to fall asleep. It was the perfect way to end his night. It had been an unexpectedly long day and he looked forward to tomorrow’s well-earned break. Eight extra innings might even win him a second day of rest. Or a third, if Shimura agreed not to schedule him for the next game. Which, he doubted, if it meant you’d be playing.

“I’m on my way.” He ended the call, and opted to take the fastest way out, desperate to avoid the press.

Ken collapsed onto the floor, snuggling into Emi’s arm. Having washed up and eaten his dinner, he felt the last remains of his adrenaline-fueled strength die out like a dwindling flame. He felt as if his limbs were about to fall off. “Ugh,” he groaned. “I’m going to be so sore tomorrow.” Emi didn’t much care. She seemed to be preoccupied by the new ( gigantic ) stacking blocks that Mina made for her. Ken sighed, sinking deeper into her arm. “She always smells so good after her baths.” The baby Kaiju’s warm and heavy grasp felt like a weighted blanket. It was a comfort that Ken would find nowhere else.

Professor Sato walked past them, chuckling into his coffee mug. “That, she does. You should have seen her earlier, you know. I’ve never seen her so invested in a game.”

Kenji hummed. “Is that right?” He rolled onto his stomach, facing Emi. “Hey. Baby.” He poked her cheek. “Is that true? Did you cheer for Daddy? I bet you did.” Giving into his cuteness aggression he rubbed at her cheeks. Emi expressed her annoyance through a small squeak. “God, that mean old Bullet had Daddy running laps, didn’t he? We hate him, don’t we?” Kenji pushed her cheeks up and down, leading her into a nod. “Yes we dooo.”

Professor Sato laughed. “Whatever happened to sportsmanship?”

“Whatever happened to loyalty?” He pouted. “My own father, rooting against me. I would never root against you, Emi.” Wanting to return to her blocks, Emi lifted Kenji up by his torso and placed him on her head. The batter laughed, laying on her with no protest.

“What!” The professor exclaimed. “I never said I was rooting against you. I was just— feeling enthusiastic, that’s all. For both teams.”

Mina entered the room, her mechanisms humming faintly. “Good evening, everyone.” The Sato’s greeted her accordingly. “I have a message for Ken.”

The mentioned Ken slumped into his daughter, rolling his eyes. “Here we go. I bet it’s the press.” He scoffed. “Let me guess, at least 30 emails asking for my statement. Or, better yet, it’s Shimura warning me not to miss the next game.” He raised his fist, mocking a reporter’s tone: “We’ve witnessed baseball history tonight, folks! Blah, blah, blah.”

“Actually, it’s an invitation for something else.” Mina hovered closer. “An event.”

This caught his attention. Kenji tilted his head. “For what?”

“A party, hosted by various sponsors.”

“Bit too early for an afterparty, don’t you think?” Ken sighed, resting his head on folded arms. “We’ve only won one game.”

“I suppose it’s to celebrate Mr. L/n as well.” Mina would shrug if she had the shoulders to do so. “His coming to Japan is quite a big deal.”

“Great.” Kenji was half-asleep by then, eyes already closed. “All the more reason for me not to go.” The professor had settled himself onto one of the desks, getting into some light reading. Emi had grown tired herself, and decided that she was not interested in the blocks anymore. Waddling to her spot, (with Kenji still on her head), she yawned, and opted for some much-needed sleep.

Mina’s light blinked. “I think you should go, Ken.”

The rightfielder cracked one eye open. “And why would I do that?”

“I think it would benefit you to interact with Mr. L/n more.”

“Mina, that’s literally the last thing I want.”

“Is it?”

Ken frowned. “What do you mean, ‘is it’? Of course it is.”

“Your vitals seemed to say otherwise earlier.”

Kenji scoffed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I was keeping careful watch of your vitals, as I always do. I have your daily status tracked and recorded.”

Kenji couldn't get rid of Mina’s voice in his head. Even amidst the warm crowd, with chatter swaying smoothly atop of light r&b music, he felt as if he could still hear her words ringing in the back of his mind. It remained vivid, though she had told it to him days ago. It was as clear as day. Like a broken record.

“Believe it or not, the heart beats differently for every emotion. There is a difference between fear, anxiety, excitement, and—”

Kenji stared at you from across the room, watching as you conversed with your team, nursing a glass of cold, hard whiskey. He watched as you bowed your head and smiled, listening for the faint, muffled sound of your laughter. He wondered what you were talking about; what joke might have made you grin that hard. He wondered why you seemed to illuminate a room, and why everyone seemed so drawn. His eyes were caught in the way the colorful lights sank into your hair.

“—Infatuation.”

You looked up, and your eyes met his. Kenji flinched. He felt his heart skip a beat. Shit, he thought. Mina was definitely going to catch that. She had probably already marked it down to tease him for it later. You held his gaze for longer than he could have standed and greeted him with that same annoying wink. The same one you gave him on the field. Confident, snarky, playful. You lifted your glass and took a sip, eyes still trained on his.

“What you may perceive as frustration for him might just be the opposite.”

Kenji's jaw clenched. Mina had no idea what she was talking about.

And he would prove her wrong tonight.

Like a soldier marching into battle, he waded through the party to make his way towards you. Was he intimidated? Yes. Unfortunately, he was. But he knew his way around a crowd, and his weapon-of-a-tongue knew all the right talk to make a conversation work. He was sociable like that. He was a poet, a wordsmith. If you weren't careful, one little exchange could have you wrapped around his finger. Some people called it his charisma, some blamed it on his irresistible good looks. Either way, Ken took it. He wasn't going to deny the fact that people loved talking to him — though he, admittedly, didn't really like talking to them in return. But he could do it. He could make it work.

Besides, how bad could you be?

With a newfound confidence, Ken dared to get closer. The distance between you and him lessened, and– oh, fuck, was that your cologne? He blinked. You smelled so good. Why did you smell so good? “Hey. Hi.” Shit. Abort mission. No, it's too late. Too awkward to back out. You were already looking at him. “L/n, yeah?” He spoke your name like he only just remembered you upon seeing you. When in truth, he hadn't stopped thinking about you since that damn first pitch. “Some game, huh?” Ken held his hand out for you to shake. ‘Fuck, I hope he doesn't notice how clammy it is.’

“Ken Sato.” It was the first time he heard your voice, as well as the first time he heard you say his name. He didn't like how his body reacted. There was a small shiver down his spine, a tingling flutter in his chest. You took his hand. Yours was cold. So cold. Kenji concluded that the icy glass of whiskey you had placed on the counter was to blame. He could feel your callouses against his. Your hands mirrored one another, marked with the battlescars of your sport. He was oddly sensitive to every detail. Touching you was.. a sensation.

You gave him a firm shake before promptly letting go.

“That's me,” he said, miraculously. Ken was oscillating between panic and confidence at a speed that likely wasn't normal. He was holding his own, though. Like the real champ he was. It was surreal to be standing in front of you without a ball to keep you apart. No bat, no competition. Just you, and a few shots of alcohol. “You adjusting into Japan alright?”

“As well as I can.” You shrugged. You had a tone to you; an elegant air of grace and self-assurance. You had no need to raise your voice because you knew he'd do his best to listen. It was pissing him off. “It's definitely different from the States.”

“I gotta say, I'm pretty surprised to see you here.” Ken usually knew what to say when it came to conversations. He never blanked out at interviews, nor left dead air hanging at conferences. But speaking with you made him feel like his vocabulary was on a limit. “After a game like that?” He whistled. “A lesser man would've taken a week off.”

“But we're not lesser men, are we, Ken?” A waitress passed by. Without the need to look, you had grabbed two shots of vodka from her tray. You handed the other one to him. “That's why you're here, too.”

He stared at you, brows furrowed slightly. “Exactly.” He took the shot from your hand and bumped the rim against yours. “Cheers.”

You grinned. “Cheers.”

Kenji tilted his head back, downing his drink, tasting the fire run down his throat. His face screwed up a little, but not enough for you to notice. You did the same, sighing the heat out of your nose. You allowed a small laugh to slip past your lips. “Japan’s liquor is surprisingly stronger.”

Kenji chuckled. “Yeah. If you know where to look.” The music felt like it was growing louder. He leaned in to speak to you better. “You know, I can't believe this is the first time we're meeting.”

You nodded. “Neither can I.”

“The Mets and Dodgers have always been at each other's throats, and yet—”

“Our schedules just never lined up.” You scoffed. “What are the odds of that, huh?”

It really was such a coincidence. If Ken had known that your interactions would've fired the press up as much as it did now, he would've fought to face you sooner. “When was it?” He snapped his fingers, trying to remember. “Playoffs. 2019, I think. The Mets were set to face the Dodgers.”

“2019,” you repeated, brows raised. “I was there.” Kenji took notice of the way your head slightly shifted to the side. Like you were trying to get a better look at him. He swallowed thickly. “I was there.” You shrugged. “You weren't.”

“I was overseas.” He was wanting another drink. But, speaking to you was surprisingly not horrible. “Didn't get back until 3 months in. And when I did—”

“I wasn't there,” you chuckled. “Alright. I remember. 2019, I was gone for half the season. Injury.”

“The world was in shambles.” Ken grinned at you. A second waiter passed by. He grabbed you another glass of whiskey. He took scotch for himself. “See what I mean? It's like– divine intervention.”

“Big word.” To say that fate had a hand to play in yours and his meeting was beyond your beliefs. You didn't place your trust in things like that. But to know that he had thought about it was charming.

“Hey.” Ken shrugged. “Ya’ never know.”

The music shifted, and so did the lights. There was a moment of quiet between the both of you, and in that time, you found a common interest in people-watching. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, nor the absence of something to talk about. The two of you merely agreed upon the minutes it took to watch the party unfold. A good number of the guests were already drunk. The dance floor was alight and occupied mostly by women. Ken rested his weight on one foot, sighing at his still-aching muscles. He wondered if you were any sore too.

“They love it, don't they?” You leaned your back against the counter, arms crossed over your chest. Ken took quick notice of the necklace worn loosely around your neck. A silver dogtag, similar to his. “The drama. The intensity. Even the things that go on beyond the field.”

Ken shrugged. “It's baseball. Who doesn't?”

“Exactly.” You smiled. “Which is why it's important to always let the home team win the first game.”

It took a moment for Kenji to process what you said. He was distracted by the colorful lights, his favorite song coming on, and a tray full of hors d'oeuvres. “Mhm.” He reached over to take one, before— “Wait.” His brows knitted together. “I'm sorry, what?”

“Hm?” You had your lips pressed together into a thin line. Your expression feigned innocence, a stark contrast to your bold statement. “I said it's important to let the home team win the first game.”

Kenji made a sound between a scoff and a laugh. He couldn't believe his ears. Had he been standing by the speakers for too long? “No, I heard what you said. What I'm asking is what you're saying.” It was a dare of a reply, with a tone that commanded: go on. Clarify.

Your smile refused to leave your face. Nearing the batter, ever so carefully, you whispered:

“I'm saying you won because I let you.”

Kenji blinked.

And there it was. He knew you were too good to be true. Goddammit, he knew it! Beneath your seemingly-perfect self was something cold and rotten and he called it. He fucking called it. How thrilled he was to be correct, and oh, how utterly terrified.

But this was good. This was absolutely good. He needed something to hold onto, something to keep himself afloat. The next time he found himself drowning in your eyes again, he'd only need to remember that you were a grade A asshole. That you had the audacity to claim that you were in full control of the game. Surely it would solve all his problems.

Kenji broke out into a laugh. It started out as a small cluster of sarcastic chuckles, but erupted into actual laughter. You were funny. So, so funny. Unbeknownst him, you were watching with amusement. “Because you let me!” Kenji repeated, smiling, but, exasperated. Two can play at that game. “Right. Of course. Totally not because you're an average pitcher and I can bat anything you throw.”

“If that helps you sleep at night.” You shrugged. Your attention wasn't on him anymore. You were watching the crowd, disinterested.

Kenji felt his eye twitch. “That's big talk coming from someone who got struck out by a rookie.” He was referring to the eighth inning, when Tateoka managed to bat your pitch into a homerun.

“That's right, Sato.” You laughed, low and sultry. “Batted by a rookie. How could I have struck you out at the last inning but be batted by a rookie?” You tilted your head at him, brows knitted together. You spoke in a sickeningly soft tone. Like you were helping a toddler understand something simple. “Doesn't seem to make a lot of sense, does it?”

Kenji was growing flustered. His face was warm and his fist was itching to meet your cheek. Nobody spoke to him this way. Sure guys had been mean to him before, but it was mostly because they were threatened by him. They'd tried to put him down and pick apart his flaws, but what you were doing was something different. You weren't claiming that he was weak, you were claiming that you were stronger. You didn't deny the amount of talent that Ken had in his body, but you were fully convinced that you had more. You were bigger, smarter, and better. And you had him under your control.

“Oh, c’mon. Seriously?” God, your voice. It infuriated him. It drove him insane. You leaned in, closer, whispering your words, as if hearing you through the party wasn't hard enough. He could smell the whiskey on your breath. It mingled with your cologne. It was intoxicating. “Are you blushing?”

He scoffed in disbelief. “No.” Except he totally was. He could feel the heat radiating off of his face. His breathing had gone shallow, his heartbeat rapid. “Why would I– Tch. You— You don't know what you're talking about.” Holy shit. He was a mess.

He wanted so desperately to blame it on the alcohol, but he knew damn well he wasn't drunk enough to be acting the way he was. He was stumbling over his words stone-cold sober.

You were smiling. He was dying, and you were smiling. “You amuse me, Sato.”

Ken took a cautious step back, knowing that being that close to you for too long was only going to make him worse. “Who the hell do you think you are, huh?” He had to retaliate somehow. Like a soldier fumbling for his sword, he had to get up and do something. “You don't think I don't know what this is? Where you're heading?”

You tilted your head. “Do enlighten me.”

He wrinkled his nose. “Sure. Celebrity-Athlete from America waltzes into Japan thinking he's the shit— that he can rule the world. He's a shiny new toy and everyone's just dying to catch a look. Nevermind that his old team traded him off, nevermind that he goes home to an empty penthouse. He's got the stats to prove his skills and he thinks he doesn't need anything else.” Ken dared to retake a step forward. He sort of regretted it when you didn't take a step back. “Well, guess what,” he continued. “I've been where you are. I know how you feel, what you're thinking.

Everything you're trying to be is a shadow of what I already was.”

There was a beat of silence. You weren't smiling anymore. You were staring at him, stone-faced, seemingly indifferent.

Kenji narrowed his eyes. “So don't go talking to me like you're any better.”

He didn't know what to expect. You were quiet for such a long time that he thought you were going to snap. He partially expected a punch to the chin. But you were calm. There wasn't a trace of irritation on your face. Instead, you set your glass of whiskey — now empty — on the counter behind you. With a sigh, you shoved a hand in your pocket. “Are you done?”

Kenji blinked.

“Let me tell you something, Sato.” You raised a brow at him. Ken felt his heartbeat pick up again. Your once-approachable gaze shifted into something cold and commanding. He swallowed thickly. “There is a difference between you and me. And that difference is the fact that I don't settle.”

Kenji was glaring at you, brows fixed together.

A teammate called you from the other side of the room. You nodded at him, once, then returned your focus to the Yomiuri Prince. You placed a hand on his shoulder, tauntingly, smiling at him as if you'd known him your whole life. “I hope last season’s slump accustomed you to the feeling of losing those points.”

Kenji wanted to say something, but his lips refused to move. Somehow, the blaring music in the background had faded into a muffled blur. All he could hear was your voice. Like a moth to a flame.

You winked at him. Again. And like before, his body reacted in ways he didn't like. You squeezed his shoulder once, before leaving to go to your friend. With your back turned against him, Kenji released the breath he didn't realize he was holding. He clutched his chest, watching wide-eyed as you moved through the crowd. He could still smell your cologne. The last thing he heard from you was,

“I'll see you on the field.”

taglist: @fairy-lenaa @moonjellyfishie @witchygod — Thank you for your patience!

[okaylikeschaewon]

Photographer: Part 2

IU, ~5k words, smut, male reader, author's note at end with update

“The only one.”

“I’m not sure I believe you.”

“Do you not trust me?” IU scoffed, crossing her arms and legs, the sass palpable as if she were filming a drama in her own home.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” you replied. “I just know you love watching them squirm.”

“You’re making it sound like I’m such an evil person,” she whined. “I make it worth their while, don’t I?”

“Hey I’m not complaining, I was in that exact situation only like a month ago and loved every second of it.”

“And look how far you’ve come, you’ve become so audacious,” she replied, licking her lips at that last word. “But I sorta miss when you were a stuttering mess.”

“I can pretend to be awestruck again if it’ll make you feel better,” you joked, sitting down next to her and wrapping your arm around her shoulder.

“You’re IU! B-B-But you’re IU!” she teased, lips curled into a sly smile.

She began to giggle as your hand dropped off her shoulder, tickling her ribs playfully.

Her smile was pretty, but her laugh was to die for.

“Okay stop!” she gasped, falling over onto her back.

“Apologize,” you demanded, leaning over her body, locking her in place.

She looked up at you with that mischievous grin - the one she flashed so often lately - on her face.

“No.”

Commotion broke out as you began relentlessly tickling her again, both of your hands toying with her sides. You couldn’t help but join in on the laughter as her shrieks filled the room; It was impossible to not smile.

“Please!” she wheezed, completely out of breath.

“Say it.”

“I’m sorry,” she gasped for air as you finally let up, giving her a chance to catch her breath. “I could get you in… so much trouble… for that.”

“Tell them and then I’ll tell everyone about how you’ve been taking my di-”

“See what I mean, audacious,” she cut you off while smirking up at you.

“I’ve learned from you,” you replied, leaning forward and giving her a short kiss on the mouth. “Take whatever I want, whenever I want it.”

“Strictly speaking, you’re still under that NDA,” IU threatened casually.

“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t actually dare tell anyone about this,” you replied, running your hand through her hair. “I’m a gentleman.”

“Well I hope you’ll be enough of a gentleman to pardon me for just a bit,” IU said while gently pushing you off her. “I do actually have to get back to work at some point.”

“Has it really already been an hour?” you asked, sitting up on the couch, freeing IU from her prison.

“Hour and fifteen,” IU laughed while collecting her discarded clothes from around the room.

“Wait, just one last thing,” you requested, reaching forward and pulling her hand towards you.

She walked up right in front of you, looking down at you with a puzzled expression. Before she could ask what you wanted, you leaned your face forward between her legs and planted your lips against her bare thigh. You left a long, wet kiss on her skin before looking up at her.

“You’re IU.”

She rolled her eyes before bursting out laughing.

—

“Do you think we’ll ever be able to go out instead of ordering in?”

IU bit her lip nervously, looking at you with a face full of remorse.

“Does it bother you?”

“Not particularly, but I do sometimes wonder if it would really be that big of a deal,” you speculated, taking a bite of sweet potato. “What do you think?”

“I’m just…” she hesitated, poking at her food. “The thing is, I really like what we have going on. I don’t want to risk ruining it.”

“Ruining it?”

“It’s more like, I know how some fans can be,” she clarified. “I’m scared some of the more dedicated ones might… you know…”

“Understandable,” you said quietly, taking a piece of fish between your chopsticks.

“That’s not what you wanted to hear.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you reassured her, placing your hand on top of hers. “It makes sense, I agree that we should keep whatever this is more private.”

“Whatever this is…” she mumbled.

The two of you made silent eye contact, forgetting about the dinner spread across the table. You stared into her soft, marble-like eyes, getting lost in her gaze. She was special, you just knew she was special, and you were afraid to lose her. Despite the nervousness, it felt like the right time to ask.

“What exactly is this?”

Silence. An hour of it - or realistically probably just a few seconds - your world stopped. Ever since you had the pleasure of working with IU, you couldn’t stop thinking about her. The two of you would meet almost daily, unless her schedule kept her too busy; the days you didn’t meet, you would still text. You felt like you really knew her.

“I don’t really know,” she answered softly.

“Neither do I,” you said before awkwardly poking at your food, suddenly regretting asking the question. “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to ruin the mood.”

“Don’t,” IU responded sternly. “I may not know exactly what this is, but there’s nothing to apologize for.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You…” she let out a puff of air from her nose before chuckling. “I’m fine with letting things run their course and just seeing what happens if you are.”

“Yeah, that works for me,” you smiled back.

She let out a relieved sigh before finally taking a bite of food.

“If you really want,” she said after swallowing, her tone changing entirely. “Pick a restaurant, I can book the whole thing for us.”

“Do you have any idea how hot that was?”

“Not exactly my intention.”

“Yet, here we are.”

“So what is it,” IU smirked, pushing her plate to the side and planting her elbows on the table, leaning forward with her face in her hands, like a flower blooming. “What are you in the mood for?”

“You know what I’m really in the mood for.”

“I want to hear it,” she purred.

“I’m looking right at it,” you answered, pushing your plate to the side as well.

“Don’t you ever get tired of that one?” she smirked, leaning back in her chair. “You get it all the time.”

“No, never,” you replied while walking around the table in front of her, leaning forward in front of her face with your hands on her arm rests, trapping her in place. “Never.”

“You know you got me in trouble earlier,” IU whined frivolously. “They said I was late.”

“Aren’t you like their princess, who cares?”

“I’m not a princess.”

“Can the amazing IU even get in trouble? Is it even possible?”

“I can!” she protested, unintentionally becoming the most adorable girl on the planet as her sharp eyes contrasted the subtle pout of her lips. “I still have responsibilities, you know, I don’t just show up, take a couple of pictures and leave.”

“Hurtful,” you laughed, standing up straight. You pushed her hair back behind her ear, stroking it softly, admiring the light makeup she was sporting tonight, her charmingly elegant look. That sweet, genuine smile she wore as she looked up at you with her natural innocence - the innocence that hid her true intentions. “You shouldn’t be late, it’s not very responsible of you.”

“I know,” she replied softly, keeping her gaze locked on you, only breaking eye contact for a brief moment to peek at your crotch.

“So the princess learned her lesson?”

“Need I remind you about why I was late?” her expression switched to annoyance. “And I’m not a princess.”

“I would love a reminder,” you smirked, reaching forward to slip the strap of her nightgown off her shoulder.

“You’ll never get one if you keep calling me a princess,” she hissed angrily - yet she made no attempt to stop you as you slipped the other strap off.

“You’re right, you’re not a princess,” you said calmly. “You’re more beautiful than a princess.”

To your lovely surprise, this got her flustered. Flattery almost never worked on her - she was too used to hearing it. Yet her soft features, glowing with a gentle blush, showcased her beauty wonderfully. She looked stunning tonight, just like she did every other night, the perfect visual.

“Tell me more about your responsibilities,” you continued, stepping even closer towards her, easing the thin fabric down until it just barely covered her chest.

“It’s my responsibility to make sure my staff is happy working with me,” she said as she rubbed her hand up and down your crotch, outlining your shaft with her fingers.

“Last I checked, I work for you from time to time,” you said back. “How exactly do you keep them happy?”

“It would be easier if I just show you,” she said while tugging at the drawstring of your pants. “If I have your permission.”

“You’re allowed to do whatever you want,” you answered, holding her hair out of her face as she began slowly easing down your pants. “Isn’t that how this works?”

“That’s exactly how this works,” she mumbled as she pulled down your clothes, freeing your cock from its modesty. “I love how you’re always so excited to see me.”

“Yeah, after all-” you gasped sharply as her tongue made contact with your shaft. “Who wouldn’t be? You’re IU.”

Her lips curled up as her eyes squinted just a bit while she slowly, painfully slowly, ran her tongue up your cock. You took the opportunity to slide your hand down her gown, taking her soft nipples between your fingers, playing with her body with utter freedom.

She reached your tip with her mouth, the way she looked at you. Overwhelming would be an apt description, her eyes managed to be so delicate yet full of ferocity. Confidence, allure, she just knew how to make you lose your mind by doing the most subtle actions, descriptions just couldn’t do her beauty justice.

Your tip was getting all of her attention now as she swirled her tongue, an expert with her mouth, round and round. Her soft lips pressed against your cock, leaving gentle kisses all over the tip while that unbreakable eye contact kept you fixated on her pretty face.

Kiss after kiss, not caring at all about the little bit precum already leaking. She just kept kissing your tip until she was finally satisfied, giving your hole a few gentle prods with her tongue before moving down your shaft, planting her lips on each and every section of your length.

The eye contact never broke. Not once. The most you got was a subtle squint when you would pinch down with your fingers. Even as her lips made it down to your balls, your cock resting on her face, she still kept her gaze on you.

“You’re beautiful,” you muttered, taking one hand out of her top and running your fingers through her soft hair.

Gently, she ran her tongue up your shaft, the blush on her cheeks confirming she heard your comment. Without even lifting her tongue off your cock, she opened her lips wide and slipped the tip into the warmth of her mouth. As she slowly moved down your cock, eyes still locked on yours, the excessive wetness of her mouth began coating your entire cock.

She sucked you off with utmost enthusiasm, repeatedly sending impulses up your spine. One hand was on the table in a feeble attempt to hold yourself up, while your other hand was holding back her hair. With how beautiful IU was, you didn’t want to miss it for a second.

The difficult part, however, was ignoring the haziness in your eyes. The softness of her mouth around your cock was desensitizing your entire body. For the next couple of minutes, it felt like your cock was the only part of your body that existed, and it lived happily halfway down IU’s throat.

It became too much for you. The urge took over - you needed her. You pulled your hips back, letting your cock escape IU’s lips before immediately pulling her up off the chair. Before she could even react, you had picked her up by her thighs and carried her over to the couches behind the dining table.

“Wow, do you have any idea how hot that was?” IU gasped as her back hit the cushions.

“Exactly what I intended,” you replied with a smile.

The smile on your lips was immediately pressed against IU’s mouth as you leaned forward over her. With your tongue down her throat, you yanked her little nightgown down and cupped her small breasts between your fingers as her legs wrapped around your waist.

Your throbbing cock was pressed against her underwear as the soft dress bunched up at her waist, exposing her soft thighs. You began rubbing your cock against the thin chiffon between her legs, her wetness being felt through the thin fabric.

Soon, both of your hands had abandoned her chest and made their way down her body. You had two handfuls of her soft thighs pressed between your fingers while your lips continued their gentle massage against IU’s mouth. She was intoxicating.

It was difficult to stop kissing her, near impossible at this point. Until she took the short instant that your lips parted with hers, while you took a quick breath, to speak words directly into your face.

“Hurry up and take me,” she whispered, closing her eyes and leaning her head back.

After a sharp inhale, you reached a hand between her legs, pulling her soaked underwear to the side and pressing your cock against her bare, warm, wet folds. Her body welcomed you, silently begging for you to enter.

Before you plunged your cock into her warm embrace, you leaned your mouth forward into the crevice of IU’s neck that she was presenting to you. Her gorgeous scent filled your senses as your mouth began kissing her smooth skin, right before you entered her pussy.

The warmth and tightness around your cock was nothing compared to the satisfaction of the moan that hit your ears. You began aggressively kissing her neck, holding your cock about halfway deep into her pussy, relishing in each and every noise leaving IU’s lips each time your cock moved slightly.

Once she had a few seconds to adjust, you rested your face on her clavicle, using your hands to support your body as your hips started to move back and forth. She kept moaning, more pragmatically now, enjoying the sensation. It was like she had become an instrument, one that you magically knew how to play.

Sex with IU was insane. The girl was so unbelievably expressive, it was impossible to not feel like a king around her. You could happily watch her scrunched up face while you fucked her gently for the rest of your lift - it was utterly enthralling.

“I’m going to cum,” you moaned quietly, keeping the pace of your hips. “You’re going to make me cum.”

“Mhmm,” IU moaned back.

“Where?”

“Anywhere!” she cried out, shocking you with the sudden intensity, scrunching her face up even harder.

Her hands grabbed her dress, scrunching it up into what resembled a tiny ribbon just below her breasts, exposing her toned stomach. Her knuckles went white with how hard she was gripping the cloth.

Only now did you become acutely aware of how tight her pussy was becoming. It felt divine, but it also meant it was impossible for you to hold back any longer. You suddenly hit the point of no return, the tension building up all around your crotch. You were mere seconds away from exploding inside her, but the desire to paint her abs somehow prevailed.

Without hesitation, you pulled out and began stroking your cock over her body. The same instant that your tip left her pussy, a beam of white launched all the way up her body, leaving a streak of white across her stomach.

IU, finally opening her eyes, licked the back of her hand clean of the cum that splattered on it before intently watching your cock unload into her stomach. Her deep breaths were making the lake of cum spill over onto the couch - a problem for later. She smiled softly at you while rubbing her pussy with one hand slowly as your cock dripped the last bit of cum onto her belly.

However, you weren’t done yet. Swiftly, you moved back and shoved your face between IU’s spread legs. Her sudden shriek transformed into a moan halfway as your tongue began making circles around her clit. You were aggressive, making sure she felt every movement.

The hand she was pleasuring herself with had grabbed your hair, and you could feel her fingers digging into your scalp. Her other hand was interlocked with yours as you reached up to grab it, squeezing tightly. Your tongue was working overtime trying to get IU back to her climax.

Based on how her thighs began to press against your head, you figured it was working. You began sucking on her clit while bringing your free hand up and inserting two fingers into her pussy.

“Just like that,” she groaned softly. “I’m close.”

Her taste was intoxicating. You simply could not get enough. She began to leak profusely, filling your mouth to the point of her wetness coating your chin; you didn’t care one bit. All that mattered was making her feel good.

She began to hyperventilate, arching her back as her pussy leaked all over your lips and hand. You could feel her pussy squeezing your fingers, convulsing each time your tongue lapped at her clit. It was inevitable now - she was going to cum.

Licking and sucking, you went a bit longer, keeping your mouth open now to try accommodating the mess she was making. After just a short few moments later, you felt a small spurt of liquid hit the back of your throat accompanied by a very loud shriek coming from IU.

“Oh fuck!” she shouted, letting go of your hand and letting her whole body convulse in pleasure.

She had also let go of your hair at this point, simply leaning back on the couch and enjoying the moment. You leaned back slightly, watching her writhe and ride her orgasm out as your two fingers gently thrusted into her pussy. You brought your second hand up towards her clit, rubbing light circles while you watched her.

Her orgasm went on for a while, and you enjoyed every second of it just as much as she did. When she finally began to calm down, you slowly withdrew your fingers and leaned over her body. The two of you kissed again, IU’s eyes closed once again.

After the kiss, you simply lay on top of her body, feeling each breath she took. The two of you were a mess, but that was the least of your worries. You just wanted to hold her, feel her warmth, feel her lungs inhale and exhale. For a few minutes, the two of you simply lay there in each other’s embrace, silence broken only by the gentle breaths IU was taking.

“What’s your plan for tomorrow?” you asked, gently breaking the silence.

“I have a short photoshoot in the morning, and then I’m free.”

“Photoshoot? I don’t remember hearing about this.”

“There’s going to be another photographer,” IU answered quietly.

You sat up and looked at her as she tried to avoid your gaze.

“You’ve had plenty of photographers other than me since we started this thing,” you said cautiously. “But why does it seem like there’s something bothering you this time?”

“It’s… complicated,” IU began to explain.

“I believed you when you said you stopped,” you chuckled. “I’m not actually worried about another photographer working with you.”

“We have history.”

“What kind of history?” you asked hesitantly, starting to get worried by how she was acting.

She looked up into your eyes with a pained expression.

“Are you really going to make me say it?”

“No,” you replied softly before moving over on the couch until you were right next to her. You wrapped your arms around her before continuing. “It doesn’t matter what you did.”

“He’s going to be the first photographer since I met you who knows about…” IU stammered, her arms latching onto your back. “What if he…”

“You can say no,” you interjected firmly, squeezing her small body tightly. You held onto her until she stopped sobbing, until her body stopped trembling, before letting go of her and looking into her face. “You’re not that type of girl,” you said softly as you wiped her face.

“What is wrong with me!” she shouted dramatically, tilting her head back to try and hold her tears in. “This was so much easier before…”

“Before what?” you asked while moving closer to her.

IU gazed deep into your eyes, her own sparkling with the remnants of her tears. She inched her face forward - it felt like she was taking an eternity - until her lips were as close to yours as they could physically be without touching.

“Before you,” she whispered before pressing forward.

—

It was impossible to stop thinking about it. You decided to work from home, IU’s home, because she refused to let you leave last night - not that you wanted to leave anyway. It would be fine under normal circumstances, but it did make it extremely difficult to stop thinking about her.

After accepting work was not an option today, you decided to just slack off on your laptop - something most employees already did when they worked from home. Time ticked away slowly as you spent the day switching between shows and YouTube videos. Luckily, IU’s home was painfully comfortable, there really were no complaints to be had.

Eventually boredom, or perhaps guilt, kicked in, and you decided to give work another shot. By some divine intervention, you managed to forget about the unforgettable girl for just a little bit and you actually got some editing done.

Taking the pictures was only a small part of your job, most of the time you were busy editing and compiling the best shots into sets for clients. As you sifted through picture after picture, you were once again reminded of how nice working with IU was. Working with someone as talented as her just made things so much easier, you didn’t have to delete hundreds - if not thousands - of ‘bad’ pictures; It wasn’t easy taking a ‘bad’ picture of IU.

Endless scrolling eventually took a toll on your mind, and you felt yourself slowly start to doze off. IU was partially to blame again: Why was every piece of furniture in her home so comfortable? It did, however, end up making your extracurricular activities with her quite fun. With all the options available in her home, the two of you rarely ended up doing much in her bed other than actually sleeping.

Your mind casually thought of all the chairs, couches, tables, rugs, and a number of other more unorthodox places the two of you have enjoyed the last month together. As you sank into her couch, you didn’t even have the energy to put your laptop on the coffee table before you fell into a state of bliss.

That state of bliss, however, was completely shattered when you woke up to the gentle sounds of sobbing on the couch next to you. Out of all the ways IU has woken you up previously, this was by far the worst.

“IU?” you croaked as your eyes furiously blinked open, trying to find the source of the crying next to you. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m a fucking slut.”

“Hey!” you quickly rushed to her side, pulling her into your embrace. “Why would you say that?”

“It’s true,” she cried, her eyes coating your shoulder. “Everyone knows it, everyone’s thinking it.”

“No they’re not,” you said firmly.

“You probably also think I’m a slut,” she sobbed, her arms falling limply to her sides.

“No I don’t!” you insisted as you pulled back, holding her shoulders, staring into her face. She still had the professional makeup from the photo shoot on, and you just now noticed how beautiful she was at this moment despite the crying. “What did he do?”

She shook her head, her lip quivering, tears building up in her eyes again.

“I’m not mad, I just need to know what happened,” you said, trying your best to control your voice.

“Nothing happened,” she said sniffled. “I didn’t do anything with him.”

You tilted your head in confusion.

“I told you, I’m not mad, just tell me what happened.”

“See, even you assume I’m just a fucking slut!” IU shattered into tears, putting her hands over her face and crying.

“What? No!” you let go of her shoulders, trying to make sense of what was going on. “Please, I believe you, just help me understand.”

She took a minute, one that felt like an hour, before lowering her hands and looking at you.

“He…” she stammered, scrunching her face up in an attempt to hold back her tears.

“Take your time,” you reassured her, reaching forward and grabbing her hands. “I’m not going anywhere, take as long as you need.”

She inhaled deeply, exhaling slowly, rubbing her cheek against her shoulder before speaking again.

“The photoshoot… after we finished, he…” she struggled until you gave her hands an encouraging squeeze. “He came into my dressing room after.”

You held your tongue, letting her say her whole piece before asking questions despite the burning rage that was filling your insides.

“He expected me to just… he walked right up to me and lowered his pants,” IU choked, taking a short moment to recompose herself. “The way he looked at me, he just expected me to…”

“Did he do anything else?” you asked gently but firmly.

“No,” she shook her head, lip trembling again but no tears fell this time. “I told him I don’t do that anymore.”

“And that was the end of it?”

She nodded slowly, looking at you as if she expected something, reassurance, comfort, it wasn’t clear.

“You’re not a slut,” you said directly. “Even if you did what he wanted, it still wouldn’t have made you… can we stop using that word?”

“Do you not believe me?” her eyes began to well up.

Without hesitation, you lunged forward and pulled her into your embrace again.

“Of course I believe you,” you mumbled into her shoulder while rubbing her back. “I trust you completely.”

“Then why does it feel like you still think I did something,” she sniffled against your shoulder.

“I don’t think you did something,” you replied. “I only meant even if you did, it wouldn’t matter.”

“There is no ‘if you did’ about it!” she shouted as the tears streamed down her face. “I told you already, you are the only one I want. I don’t do that stuff anymore.”

“I know,” you whispered into her shoulder.

“Do you still want…” she sniffled before stopping.

“Want what?” you asked, letting go of her.

“This.”

“You mean, us?”

She nodded solemnly.

“Of course I still want this,” you answered firmly. “We agreed to see where things go, is that not what you want anymore?”

“I’m… no,” she responded. “I’m tired of waiting and seeing.”

“You mean…”

“We both want the same thing, why make it harder than it needs to be?” she continued. “I’m ready if you are.”

“IU, are you sure?”

“Exclusive. You. Me.”

It felt like a weight had been launched off your chest, a weight you weren’t even aware of before. You could feel the palpitations in your chest, suddenly your heart wasn’t working properly. IU wanted to make this official?

“I’m ready.”

---

AN:

IT HAS BEEN A VERY LONG TIME. No, this was not initially intended to be a Christmas release, but hey Merry Christmas to those who celebrate! This chapter ended up being a tiny bit shorter than my normal, but that's because I decided I like this story and want to continue it for just a little bit longer (maybe 5 parts total?) and this was a nice ending spot. I sorta have a plan for how I want to end this series, so we'll see if we get there.

Anyway, figured I'd update a bit on what's going on with me. There's a really good chance that this will bite me in the butt, however, I plan to upload somewhere between 2-5 updates in my other stories within the next week or two. THIS IS TENTATIVE, NO PROMISES.

Life is busy, I am borderline retired as a writer now, but like I said previously: I will still try to write when I have time and motivation. Updates, after the optimistic 2-5 I mentioned above, will continue to be extremely sporadic. For those of you who truly enjoy my writing, I'm sorry that there will be long delays. For those of you who don't really care for my writing... why are you still reading this?

Same deal as before, I'd love feedback! I'll admit, I won't be able to put as much time and effort as I used to, but I still want to improve. Let me know what you liked or disliked! I didn't really proofread or reread this chapter nearly as much as I normally do, honestly I just missed the thrill of uploading a piece of writing. Hopefully you guys understand and will forgive any silly mistakes!

[sashi-ya]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ エロチックトバー２０２４> MDNI / EXPLICIT CONTENT

THE BOSS 🐙 SOSUKE AIZEN X F! MAID! READER ＫINKTOBER DAY 4: SPANKING

🐙 requested by: Anonymous Hi my request for kinktober is: day 4: spanking, aizen x fem reader, dom aizen and kinda sub reader vibes and maybe make it slightly suggestive too. ⚠️ tw: mdni. explicit content. spanking. aizen is a millionaire who thinks can do whatever he wants (he is right :p). dom! aizen. maid! reader. spanking. fingering. hair pulling. misfeasance. remembering how he humbled Grimmjow? well... 🐙 wc: 972 // kinktober 24 masterlist // join the taglist

“(Name)!” Aizen screams from his office, startling you.

He usually doesn’t raise his voice, so he must be either stressed or very, very mad at you.

“Yes, Sosuke-sama?” you ask, drying your hands on your apron. You were washing porcelain crockery to have everything ready for the night; the Aizen family is hosting a dinner tonight, those where rich people come and laugh in equal “millionaire” tone as they brag about their wealth.

“I’ve been trying to contact my lawyer, some stupid problems with the company… come here” he says, a lot more calm now while patting his lap.

You start walking his way, swinging your body like a cat through his office. The ruffles of your short skirt, are just a cute accent on your maid uniform. The apron, a little bit wet still, immediately catches Aizen’s attention.

“Why are you wet? You shouldn’t mess with your uniform” he scolds you softly, as he receives you in his lap.

You straddle your hips on top of his legs, the ruffled under skirt gets all puffed up against his belly. Your cheeks become hot; and so does your crotch…

“I was doing the dishes, Aizen-sama…” you excuse yourself, trying to hide your apron underneath your hands. “I didn’t realize, I’m sorry… I wanted everything cleaned for tonight’s dinner”

Sosuke raises one of his brows, he is thinking about something. And, soon enough, his lips draw a naughty curve; a smirk that both gives you shivers and lustful thoughts.

“Why are you washing the crockery just now instead of having it already prepared? What have you been doing, (Name)?” he asks, this time a little bit more serious but still tinted in second -perverted- intentions.

“We had a lot of work to do, Aizen-sama! Your younger brother, Gin, asked us to …”

You are cut short as Sosuke doesn’t really care about your excuses, and much less about your reasons. There are two aspects in which he is your boss; one is related to work, and the other one as your dom. A whimsical, powerful millionaire that once decided your body was his property too. And you… how could you say no to Aizen Sosuke himself?

A heavy hand squeezes your cheeks; lips protruding, eyes scared… and yet, a core becoming wet, drippy, needy…

“When did I ever allow you to give me excuses, mh… (Name) (Surname)?” he asks, leaving you out of breath, almost asphyxiated by his mere attitude. A dominant, scary aura.

You blink rapidly; eyes teary… what if this time he won’t use your body, but instead you end up fired?

That, however, was exactly the right answer as Aizen quickly moved you so that your belly would land on his lap. Somehow, you are now laying over his legs, like a bad kid that needs to be spanked.

“I must reprimand your actions, or else, you will never learn to respect me or my orders” he hums, sliding his hand under your ruffled skirt. His palm lands right on one of your ass cheeks, caressing it ever so softly, even like a soft tickle, in circle motions.

Your whole body tenses, your toes curl and your hands grip tightly to his fine fabric pants. You know exactly what he is about to do, and how much this will hurt… and you can’t wait for it.

“Sh… relax…” he whispers, passing his free hand through your nape and hair. Aizen grabs some strands, tangling them around his long fingers, pulling then your head back to look at him from underneath.

The sharp angle of his mandible, the tensed muscles of his neck, the chocolate tuft of hair caressing his perfect nose… everything, absolutely everything of his façade is deadly beautiful. However, what you might like the most about him, it is how brutal and yet calm he can be when dominating your whole being.

The circles on your buttocks suddenly stops, as his hand lifts from your flesh and immediately after -with painful intent- slaps it.

You curl your back, shutting your eyelids close with painful grimace and a loud whimper coming out your mouth. Your nails carve on his leg, pulling after from his pants.

“Look” -spank- “at” -spank- “me” – spank- “when I’m disciplining you”

what a cruel man, wanting to see the eyes of his own victim…

You open your eyes, with tears pooling right on the corner of them. Your lips trembling, your skin on fire.

“Ye-yes, Aizen-sama… I’m sorry…” you excuse yourself once again. And another spank comes. “Keep giving me excuses… come on” Your legs, that hang from his lap down, tremble with pain. Your nose, becomes runny from the tears.

“Oh no, no…” he mumbles, smirking as your pain only makes him harder. A hardness you can totally feel against your belly as it gets bigger and erect.

Aizen stops for a moment; your ass feels blessed that he has. But his fingers, this time, preferred to visit a close location of those lands that are your body… your core.

“Would you look at that, completely dampened… even inner legs are sticky… what a hoe you are…” he whispers, as he lets go of your head by giving your scalp a rest with the hair pulling.

Your right cheek lands on his thigh; panting from pain and heat you await for Sosuke’s next movement. And oh girl, you’ve been wanting this…

He rips your dampened lace panties, specifically chosen by himself. Aizen enjoys the shine of your labia covered with lustful nectar in contrast with the burning surface of your ass cheeks.

Without much hesitation, his finger slides inside your folds; he doesn’t really care whether you are ready or not, Aizen only wants to feel the warmth of your neediness around his index.

“Aizen-sama…” you whine “Mhh? You want more than a finger, don’t you? ~

Taglist of amazing babes: @awas-posts @missfuriosa @theneighbourhoodferret @ariesbbytings @animesnowstorm @lenablack9919 💕🌻 @cyberdazetragedy

[sinnabarmoth]

Tribute for the Dragon (7/18)

Pairing: Dragon|Sylus x Fem|Reader

Summary: You and Sylus exchange stories.

Content Warnings: Mention of past suicide attempt.

Length: 2k

Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18)

Read on AO3

In the morning you went about making breakfast and found Sylus waiting there for you. You felt a bit ridiculous thinking back to last night and how Sylus had to carry you back to the room like you were a child. He seemed to do that a lot, carry you around. Always made you feel light as a feather too. No grunting or huffing, he just swept you up like you were an empty sack of flour.

“Morning,” he said.

“Good morning.” you came in and started cooking some breakfast. “Sorry to make you carry me back to the room last night. I really tried staying up till you got back.”

“And why was it you were so insistent on waiting till I got back?”

“Because I wanted to talk to you.”

“I gathered as much.”

You rolled your eyes. “I just wanted to apologize for going through your stuff and figure out where we stood. I know I crossed a boundary and poked my nose into something very personal to you.”

“If we’re making apologies then I have to apologize too.” he said. “I scared you yesterday. I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t--”

“I could smell it. There’s no use denying it.”

You squared your shoulders and turned to look at him. “I wasn’t scared of you. I was more frightened about having been caught. Surprised really. Not scared.”

“If you say so.”

“If I was really scared of you wouldn’t I be stinking up the place right now?” you divided up the food onto two plates and set one in front of him. “Although, I will admit it unsettled me seeing you angry like that.”

“It shouldn’t be a surprise that dragons have tempers.”

“But I’ve yet to see it before yesterday. You’re usually very level headed actually.”

“I never had reason to lose my temper before. I regret that you had to see that.”

You waved it off. “I think maybe we should think of it as getting to know more about each other. You promised that we’d do that today. Get to know one another.”

“I did say that.” he pushed the meat around on his plate. “Alright, ask whatever you wish.”

And just like that, it was as if the previous day had never happened. You fell back into easy conversation. The best conversation you had ever had with him in fact. Over the next several days you kept having great conversations.

You learned a lot about him in that time, much more in depth than what you had learned already. A lot of your questions had to revolve around dragons and their culture. It was fascinating to hear everything he knew and it gave you a better understanding about who you were living with. Some of the things he explained to you included him taking you into the hoard room and explaining why he was attracted to certain treasures and not others.

Apparently while dragons all had a taste for treasure, their hoards were actually rather diverse. Most liked gold but there were some dragons that dealt only in gems. There are sea dragons who sometimes only collect pearls for their hoards. Sylus was one of the dragons that was attracted to gold but primarily he was attracted to gold coins in particular. He couldn’t explain why but the shape and plentifulness of it attracted him. Hoards could get cluttered with many large objects that get caught up in the mix and buried, by coins are small and can scatter. There is something in all the sameness he had said. That didn’t mean he didn’t like gems or the occasional other treasures but coins were his favorite.

He told you about dragon traditions, celebrations, species hierarchies, family dynamics, and special rites. You had never thought of dragons having traditions or parties before but it was nice to hear.

You liked especially when he told you about how hoarding worked in adolescent dragons, hatchlings is what he called them.

“Hoarding is a kind of instinct for dragons.” Sylus explained. “When you’re a child you don’t have the means to plunder castles and whatnot stealing treasure but you still want to collect something. So they’ll run around and collect little things like pinecones, feathers, bottles, that kind of thing.”

“Did you collect anything when you were a child?” you asked.

“Nuts.”

“Nuts?”

“Acorns. Walnuts. Chestnuts. Whatever I could get my hands on.”

You snorted. “Are you a dragon or a squirrel?”

“Har har, yes, I didn’t get enough of those comments when I was little.” his tail poked you in the side. “If you were a dragon as a kid what do you think you would have collected?”

“Me? Buttons.”

“Buttons?”

“Why not?”

“Certainly a new one. But it fits for you.”

In turn you told him about your own life. You told him about your childhood growing up with just your father in the village and how you had worked in his glass shop with him. You had pulled out the pendant your father had made for you before you left and showed it to him to see the kind of wonderful work he was capable of.

“It’s beautiful.” he held the charm up to the light. “What sort of flower is this?”

“It’s a moonflower, specifically a blood moonflower. They’re a rare breed of moonflower that grows in shades of red. Strangely enough they’re also the only ones that aren’t toxic.” you took the charm back, holding it close to your chest. “My favorite story growing up was actually about the myth of the blood moon flower.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know that one.”

“Want me to tell you?”

“Sure. Tell me a story.”

“There once was a little girl that lived in a small village. One day the village was attacked by foreign invaders and everything and everyone was lost, except for her. During the chaos of the attack she had ran as fast as her feet could carry her and went up into the mountains seeking protection.”

“Wait, this sounds familiar. A girl whose village is under attack so she flees to the mountains searching for help. Where have I heard this before?” Sylus tapped his chin.

You rolled your eyes. “May I continue?”

“Go ahead.”

“Anyway, the girl makes it to the mountain and starts to climb it. She climbs and climbs and climbs till her shoes have worn through and she has made it to the top. There she finds a huge empty nest with a patch of brilliant white moonflowers growing all around it. Inside the nest were dozens of huge feathers. The girl, being cold, decided to rest there and use the feathers as a blanket.

“The next morning she awoke to find the giant bird whose nest she was resting in had returned. She feared that this would be her end but the bird saw the blanket of feathers surrounding the girl and mistook her for a baby bird.

“For years the girl lived with the bird, eating the food the giant mama bird had brought and resting warmly under her feathered body during the long windy nights. All was well until one evening under the light of the full moon the mama bird had decided that it was time for the girl to leave the nest. The girl naturally did not know what to do since she was not an actual bird. She was liable to fall and die if she leapt from the nest.

“But the mama bird kept on pushing and pushing, edging the girl out of the nest. Without any other options the girl took the feathers of her blanket in hand and held them tight. The sharp ends of the quills dug into her palms and blood seeped from her hands. The blood that fell from her hands landed on the white moonflowers around the nest and when they did it created magic. The girl stared out at the starry sky and wished with all her might, and she jumped. The moment she leapt her wish came true and the girl was turned into a bird and she flew off into the world.”

You looked back at Sylus, “And that’s why blood moonflowers are red.”

“That is a fascinating story. I do not think such magic is actually possible but it makes a nice tale.”

“Whether it was actually possible or not wasn’t what I liked about it. I don’t know why but I found it comforting. It made me believe that even in a world where I’m backed into a corner there’s another way out, another way to do things. I don’t have to plummet, I might fly.”

“It’s a lovely message my little bird. I’m afraid the tales dragons tell do not have such heartfelt meanings.”

“What kind of stories do dragons tell?”

“You want to hear one?”

“Yes.” you scooted closer. “Please?”

“Fine. Fine.” Sylus sighed. “I have a story for you.”

You smiled at him expectantly. Sylus cleared his throat and stared off into the distance. “This story does not begin with a dragon. It actually starts with a human.” he said.

“A long time ago there was a human woman who had longed for a child. She went to every healer she could find but no matter what they tried, she remained barren. So, one day, she decided to seek out magic. Not just any magic, dragon magic. Said to be the most powerful of all.

“The woman had come into their land hoping to steal some of their magic for herself so she could have her child. The dragons asked her what she was doing in their land and when she told them she came to humbly ask for their assistance, they saw through her deceit. She had not just wanted a child, she wanted a strong one. She longed to give birth to a warrior that would bring fame and glory to her family’s name. That is why she truly came to the dragons.

“The dragons decided to punish the woman with exactly what she wanted. The elder of the dragon tribe plucked a scale from their body and gave it to the woman. They told her to eat the scale and that the magic within would make her fertile. And so the woman ate the scale and returned home. Soon after she became pregnant.

“Because she had eaten the scale though her pregnancy was no normal human birth. Instead of birthing a human child she had birthed a giant egg. She realized then that she had been cursed by the dragons and tried to destroy it, but the egg was too strong. Not with a hundred hammers could it be broken. So she abandoned the egg in the forest.

“The egg was found by some passing dragons and taken back to their land. When it hatched though, what emerged was neither human nor dragon, but some monstrosity stuck in a crossroads between the two.” Sylus’s face twisted, loathing you had not seen before etched into the crease of his brow.

You wanted to reach out to him but you were scared he’d stop if you tried to comfort him.

“The dragons could not abandon this thing because it was of their kin, but they did not embrace it either.” Sylus said, his hands balling into fists, “The hatchling grew, neither a part of either world. So they decided to cut off their horns and their tail and go to live with the humans.

“For a while life with the humans was good, until his horns and tail started to grow back. He was driven out again. From town to town he went, cutting off his horns and tail over and over. When scales started to grow along his arms he scraped them off too. What no one knew was that every time he cut off his horns and tail the appendages were sinking into the earth, causing the land to fallow. Soon word had spread of a silver haired boy that would bring famine to your land if allowed to remain. Village after village he was driven out.”

Sylus had gone quiet again. The rage had swelled but smoldered into ashes before it could erupt. When he spoke again, he sounded weak and tired. “One day,” he muttered, “He came to a great cliff. Feeling he had nowhere in this world, he jumped. He fell and he fell…then, a pain exploded from his back. A pair of large webbed wings caught the air and he soared across the sky. Why it happened then he could not say but he thought perhaps it meant something. Perhaps there was a land yet that would accept him.”

For a long time neither of you said anything. Sylus was stone faced but the way his tail twitched from side to side let you know how he was really feeling. “This is a story that dragons tell their children?” you asked, quietly.

“It is.”

“Is it true?”

“What do you think?”

You lapsed back into silence. You looked him up and down, your eyes lingering on his horns. You brushed a hand through his hair. “Did it hurt?”

“What?” he looked at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Your horns. Maybe that’s why they’re so sensitive.”

He looked back out into the distance. “Maybe.”

You could not imagine what his childhood was like if that was what he had lived through. It was the most he had ever confided in you. You wanted to say something. Encourage him. Assure him. Tell him in no uncertain terms that he was not a monstrosity. You wanted to let him know that it broke your heart to hear what he had tried to do. You could not imagine being in so much pain and being so alone for so many years.

Words would not come. So instead, you pulled yourself into his lap and hugged him tight. His arms closed around you, holding you close to him. His tail even had curled around you, pushing you as close to him as you could get.

You didn’t know how long you stayed like that but it did not feel at all long enough. One hug could not put all his broken pieces together. But maybe the fact that you embraced him at all let him know that he was not alone in this world. Not anymore.

[sugrhigh]

FIRST OF MANY - ( m.s )

REQUESTED**

summary- you and matt have been dating for over a month now, and you’ve never had sex. his curiosity gets the best of him while you’re watching a romcom, and you find out he’s actually a virgin.

warnings- swearing, virgin!matt, technically unprotected sex, smut at the end (lmk if i missed shit)

virgin!matt x fem!reader

a/n: this is my first req that i’ve ever done, so THANK U TO THE ANON WHO LEFT IT i hope it lives up to your expectations ❤️ if u have ideas drop them in my inbox ! all da love

there is literally nothing matt likes more than spending the night in with his girlfriend, as corny as it might sound. it’s been well over a month of dating now, and he still can’t get enough of you.

the warmth of your body is comforting as you lay beside him on the sofa, dressed down in sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. he has one steady arm wrapped around your shoulder so he can hold you against his chest.

he breathes you in as his fingers skim absentmindedly up and down your exposed bicep, a familiar mixture of laundry detergent and citrus shampoo.

“that feels nice.” you mumble into his shirt, eyes still glued to the tv.

you’re forcing him to watch friends with benefits, since he picked the last movie and you were in dire need of a romcom fix. it’s one of your favorites, mainly because you loved mila kunis so much in that 70s show.

it’s only been on for roughly thirty minutes, but matt’s been enjoying it way more than he expected considering this genre is not his norm. he’s even let out a couple laughs at the scripted jokes.

the main characters are in bed together again, rolling around as they banter back and forth about sleeping with each other. it sparks a fire of curiosity inside of him as he continues to stare at the screen.

“is this really what it’s like?” he asks without thinking, and he immediately regrets his words as you tilt your head to look up at him curiously.

“what, the sex? don’t act like you don’t know.” you say, playfully smacking him with the back of your hand.

matt isn't sure why he brought it up, but he figures now is as good a time as any to have this dreadful conversation.

“how could i know if i’ve never done it?”

he feels you tense up slightly under his arm, which scares him. the last thing he wants you to think is that he’s some sort of loser. he just hadn’t found anyone that he really wanted to be intimate with before he met you.

it’s not like you guys don’t fool around sometimes. he’s perfectly capable of using both his hands and his mouth; this is a fact you’ve been made well aware of.

you two just haven’t gone all the way yet, especially considering you hardly ever get real alone time together.

“you don’t have to lie about the girls you’ve been with just because we’re dating now.” you finally respond, quieter than before.

“oh my god, i’m telling the truth, so please don’t make me say it again.” he can’t look at you anymore, because he’s too embarrassed.

this makes you fully sit up in shock, no longer focused on the premise of the film. he can feel you staring at the side of his beet red face, clearly confused by this revelation.

“wait, are you seriously telling me that you’re a virgin?” you question.

matt glances back at you and crosses his arms defensively, because it suddenly feels like he’s under attack. “you’re making me seem like a freak or something.”

he watches your eyes soften as you put a tentative hand on his shoulder, trying to let him know that you weren’t making fun of him.

“shit, i’m sorry, i swear i didn’t mean it like that. it’s just…really surprising, that’s all.”

“surprising how?”

you pull your lips between your teeth, exhaling through your nose as you try and find the right words.

“well we’ve done stuff before, and you were just naturally good at it, so i assumed you’d learned from hooking up with other people. and i know girls must have liked you with a face like that.”

this boosts his ego, and he’s already in a much better mood knowing he’s at least made you feel good in the past. that doesn’t mean he’s not still terrified, but he’s a little more confident than he was before.

“nope, not really. you’re the only one i’ve ever done that kind of thing with, aside from a little making out.” matt admits with a shrug.

your lips part, and it’s making you feel all fluttery.

“wow.”

he smiles a little bit. “i don’t know what that means.”

“it doesn’t mean anything really. i’ve only had sex a few times, and it doesn’t change anything either way.” you move your hand up and down his arm a little bit.

the tv plays in the background, and your mind flits to his original question.

“are you curious? is that why you asked?” you tilt you head toward the screen, though you keep your focus on him.

his eyes go a little wide, and the feeling of your hand on his arm suddenly becomes overwhelming.

“yeah, i—uh, i guess i am.” matt stumbles over his words, and your fingers travel higher to run through his hair slowly.

“you don’t have to be nervous. you can ask me anything you want, i’m not gonna judge.” you say softly.

your fingernails raking along his scalp makes him shudder slightly, a response that you both enjoy.

“i’m…more of a hands-on learner.” he rasps.

you let your fingers travel to rest on the back of his neck, drawing him in for a soft kiss. it’s short and sweet, and his eyelids flutter a bit as you pull away.

“what do you want to do?”

he pauses for a moment before deciding to give in and say what’s on his mind. “nick and chris aren’t home. maybe we should go to my room?”

you grin, nodding your head like you’re in a trance. you’re both trying to hide your giddiness as you scramble off of the couch, carelessly tossing the blankets aside.

you can feel him staring at your ass as you lead him through the hall, and he gives it a little smack of appreciation.

“matthew sturniolo!” you laugh, turning the doorknob to his bedroom.

it greets you warmly, and you always love it because the whole place smells like him. the overhead light is off; it’s just the singular lamp casting warm rays across the mattress.

“couldn’t help it.” he says, smile prominent in his tone as he locks the door behind you.

you slow to a stop at the foot of his bed, and he stands at your side, hand intertwined in yours. it makes your heart swell as he admires you with those charming eyes.

“are you sure? we really don’t have to, there’s no rush.” you squeeze his palm reassuringly.

matt lets go just so he can hold your head, kissing you hard as an answer. you literally can’t help but beam into his lips, and you put one hand on his chest to push him against his silk sheets.

he falls onto his back, propping himself up on his elbows so he can keep looking at you. you crawl on top of him, slowly settling on his hips.

he sucks in a shaky breath as you shift against him to get comfortable. you can feel matt growing harder beneath you as you lean down to give him another swift kiss, letting his mouth melt against yours.

then you move to his earlobe, pressing your lips to the hollow part of his neck. you swipe your tongue against his skin, biting down just a bit so you can suck on the area slightly.

he groans, laying down now so he can move his hands to grip your ass, pushing you against him harder to feel a little more friction. the thin material of your sweatpants doesn’t hide a whole lot, and he’s straining against you now.

“you’re so cute, baby.” you say against his skin, and his hands go to the bottom of your shirt, pulling it up over your hips.

you lift your hands from his chest so he can fully remove it, leaving you in your stretchy black bralette.

“god, you’re unreal.” he breathes, and you guide his palms to cup each of your breasts, still rocking against him slightly as you straddle him.

you can feel him squeeze your nipples between his middle and pointer fingers, whimpering below you as he starts to get worked up. you’re growing wet by the second, the delicious feeling of his clothed dick rubbing against you sending shocks of satisfaction right to your core.

“do you wanna keep going?” you ask, just to make sure he’s still on board.

“please.” he begs.

you move his shirt up his chest, and matt sits just high enough to rip it over his head. you trace the tattoos on his arm faintly, trailing a finger down the center of his stomach till you hit the waistline of his sweats.

“you’re terrifying.” he smiles as you slip your hand under the band of his boxers, slowly scratching the area gently.

“why?” you ask.

he grabs your waist and flips you so you’re the one on your back, feet hanging over the edge of the bed as he stands.

“because everything you do is perfect.” he says, and this time he’s the one that goes to your pants, grabbing the soft material and looking at you for permission.

“that is so not true.” you grin as you lift yourself up to help him.

he strips them off your legs and tosses them away blindly, so you’re left in your matching thong. the spandex-like material hugs your sides, the last layer standing between what you both truly want.

“i mean look at you.” he sounds dumbfounded as he gazes at your body, and you feel your face flush from the attention.

“trust me, i’m the one who’s punching.” you reply as he strips down to his boxers, dick clearly pressing against the plaid cloth. you’ve seen it before, on two occasions to be exact.

both of those experiences were great, and you didn’t know that was the first time a girl had ever given him head. now you know this is the first time he’s having sex, and even though it’s not the same for you, you’re still a bit nervous.

matt’s a little above average, and the last and only person you’ve ever done it with is your ex, so it’s been a minute. even so, you’re so enthralled with your boyfriend that you can’t help but pulse in excitement.

he pushes your legs apart with his palms, and air rushes across the wet spot that’s already formed over your panties. two fingers press against the fabric covering your heat, which shocks a gasp out of you. he moves them in a little circular pattern, applying more pressure so he can really feel you.

“love your fingers,” you rock with his pace, speaking through a moan, “but i wanna make you feel good too.”

“oh, okay. so i should…” he stops his motions to go for his own underwear, finally sliding them down so his hard length springs free.

you’re already working your own bottoms down your thighs, and he finishes the job for you once his hands are free.

“do you have a condom?”

“uh, shit…” you can tell by the solemn look that crosses his face that he doesn’t, and you let out a short laugh.

“it’s okay, it’s alright, i’m on birth control. we’ll be more prepared next time.”

his eyebrows shoot up before he can help it. next time. just the confirmation that this will happen again makes him disgustingly happy.

you wiggle up on the bed a little bit, so he has enough room to hover on top of you. he leans down a few more inches to give you a kiss, and you can tell he’s unsure what to do next, so you take control.

“don’t put it inside yet, just slide it against me a few times.” you try and instruct, and he follows well, dragging the base of his shaft up and down your wet cunt.

you let out a little noise of pleasure, and he wants to save it as a sound bite in his memory.

“okay, slowly, go ahead.” you say after a few more seconds spent enjoying the feeling, and both of you make sure he’s lined up properly.

matt looks you in the eye as he pushes inside, taking his time as you adjust bit by bit. he lets out a moan when he’s fully filling you up, shocked by how fucking amazing you feel.

you know he’s stretching you out, but the small pinpricks of pain subside as you get situated.

“you can start moving now, just keep it gentle at first.” you guide him, voice all choked up.

he nods, his long hair almost tickling your forehead as he starts to pump in and out at a leisurely pace. you’re both groaning messes, and your hands go to claw at his back as he keeps pace.

“fuck, you’re doing so well matt.” you mutter against his chest, pressing open-mouth kisses to his collarbone.

he’s getting into it now, finding a good rhythm and relaxing his hips slightly so he’s not as stiff. your bodies are molded together as you move back and forth, and matt can feel you clutching against his cock with each stroke.

“m’not gonna last much longer, angel.” he confesses, clumsily stumbling over his words as he tries to calm himself down, to keep it in just a bit longer.

“that’s okay, babe. tonight is all about you.”

he’s growing sloppier, and matt leans in to kiss you passionately as he gets closer and closer. surprisingly enough, you can feel the pressure building in your own stomach, and you’re both whining into each others mouths as your tongues mesh together.

“right there baby, i’m close too.” you breathe, and you can feel his body trembling against yours, one hand slipping underneath your bra so he can run his thumb over your nipple.

matt holds it all back, drilling into you as hard as he possibly can with the energy he has left. he loves the way you’re scratching at his back, pulling him as close as possible as you both reach your peak.

“i’m—fuck, oh my god.” he tenses up, and you feel him twitch inside of you as he comes undone.

his own reaction is what sends you over the edge, and you ease into the high, letting yourself finish all over him as he slows to a stop.

“yes, matt, holy shit.” you sigh, and he pulls out carefully moments later.

matt flops down beside you, rolling to press his lips to your cheek. you turn your head slightly to look at him, capturing his mouth with yours for another real kiss.

“i think i could get used to that.” he says with a small grin as he pulls away, and your ruffle his hair lightheartedly.

“lucky for you that was just the first time of many. so how was it?” you ask him.

he’s just opening his mouth when a loud pounding erupts on the door, and you both nearly jump out of your skin at the disturbance.

“hey! open the fucking door, we brought you guys mcdonald’s!” chris screams through the barrier.

you both look at each other, still grinning, and matt can’t help but roll his eyes.

“well, being alone was nice while it lasted.”

[bubblebaththoughts]

Beach Sex

Ao’nung x Fem!Metkayina!Reader

kinkmas masterlist

warnings: 18+ MDNI, p in v, oral!male receiving, sneaking around, bit of fluff at the end. One use of Y/n.

“Bro, just come with me, Neteyam said no and I know Kiri won’t go.” Lo’ak begged “You’re my only other friend, please.”

Tsireya had invited him to go to a party with the other Metkayina people.

He didn’t want to go alone, that was the problem.

“I never go to these dumb things, even before you got here.” You poked Lo’ak’s chest “It just like… one big orgy.”

“Please?” He whined “It’s the first one I’ve been allowed at!”

“Eywa help me.” You rolled your eyes “Fine, just this once, after this you’re on your own!”

“Ha! Thank you!” He smiled, “After last light is what she said… so meet me here?”

“Yeah, sure.” You grimaced

Lo’ak doesn’t know how or when to shut up. That’s what you’ve learned in your time of knowing him. Ever since he got comfortable with you, he’s always talking. About literally nothing. You didn’t mind it though, he would talk and you would listen.

Like now, for example.

He was rambling on about Tsireya while you listened to him.

You led him to the secret beach, and it instantly reeked of sex and alcohol.

“Lo’ak!” Tsireya called out, she definitely had been waiting for him, she came into view with a smile on her face, “Oh! Y/n! You came?”

You nodded, almost scared of her reaction.

“That’s great! You never come!” She smiled, bringing you in for a hug

“Right well, I think I’m gonna go find a drink.” You break away, waving them off as they snuck away together

Another one of your friends, Oreya, found you a drink. You hadn’t had one in forever, it made you wince.

“Can’t hold your alcohol anymore, Syulang?” A teasing voice made you look up, Ao’nung

You roll your eyes, looking back at him with a nasty look. “I remember it was you that couldn’t hold his alcohol.” You sassed

Ao’nung merely laughed, his shoulders shrugged as he backed off.

“You know how it is, Syulang.” He smiled “Why’d you come tonight?”

“Brought your future brother.” You teased

“My futu- Lo’ak?” His jaw dropped “He is not my future brother.”

“Well… where are they?” You gestured around “Sounds like someone’s sister might be making-“

“Shut up!” He groaned

“You’re really upset?” You laughed at his pained face

“Forest people and reef people shouldn’t be together.” He shook his head “I couldn’t imagine the outcome.”

“Of their little babies? Oh they would be adorable!”

Suddenly you’re being shoved against a rock, “Thought I told you to shut up?”

You shove him off of you, “You’re such an ass!”

He mocks you, pissing you off further.

You couldn’t deal with him like this, so you stomped off and did what anyone else would do, you started drinking.

You found yourself sitting at a fire, next to a couple that was making out. You weren’t drunk, just sober enough to be aware if your surroundings while also not having to think about anything too much.

You hear you name called from across the beach, you look up.

Ao’nung.

Just by a small nod, that signaled you to follow him.

As soon as you closed in on him, his lips were on you.

“Syulang,” He groaned “I miss you. You don’t play with me anymore.”

“We’re not kids.” You chastised “Not anymore.”

“You know what I mean.” He laughed, his hand cupping your pussy

You gasp in surprise, “Ao’nung!”

You’re shut up as his fingers begin to rub tour clit in perfect motions “Hm?”

“I know you too well, Syulang.” He whispers to you, “Know this perfect body too well.”

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” You whisper into his ear as he kissed your neck

You feel his smirk grow against your skin, “That’s what makes it fun.”

“Ao’nung…” You whine

“What is it?” He mumbled, still working your clit “You wanna come? Is that it?”

“Ao’nung… I shouldn’t.” You breathlessly whispered

“Yes, you definitely should.” He leans in, capturing your lips in a fiery kiss

You feel the warmth of his body against yours, and you can feel the energy between you two. His lips are soft and gentle as he kisses you, his hands exploring your body. You can feel the intensity of the moment, and you let the passion take control. You're completely taken by him, and you can't help but feel the electric current between the two of you. You can feel your heart racing as he pulls you closer, deepening the kiss. You can feel the emotion in the air and you can't help but give into it. You let go, completely lost in the moment, and you know that you never want it to end.

Your heart races as he pulls away, leaving you wanting more. The world around you fades away as you stay lost in his embrace.

He pulls his hand away from your needy pussy, “Did you miss me Syulang?”

“Ao’nung… I see you everyday.” You mumble

“Answer me.”

“Ye-yes, I missed you.” You stumbled

“Mm, I missed you too.” He smiled

He stands before you, looming large and waiting for your next move. You take a deep breath and slowly move closer, a sly smirk playing on your lips. You can practically feel the anticipation radiating off of him.

Your hands reach out and slide around his waist, your fingers tracing the contours of his body. Your touch sends a thrill through him, and you can feel his muscles tense beneath your fingertips. In response, you press yourself closer, your body melting against his.

The next thing you know, you’re backed against the rock and his mouth is on yours, his tongue exploring your depths. His hands roam over your body, igniting a fire within you.

“Get on your knees.” He demanded as he pulled away from your lips

You obey with a nod, dropping to your knees in the soft sand of the isolated beach.

“You know what to do.” He pushes your hair back

Ao’nung untied his loincloth for you, revealing his hard cock.

Your heart races as you kneel before him, the scent of his desire intensifying with each passing second. You take him in your mouth, your lips wrapping around him like a glove. His gasp fills the air as you start to move, your tongue swirling around him in a way that only you know. You can feel him trembling as you take him deeper, your throat constricting as you feel him swell.

He moans as you continue, your hands running up and down his length as you work your way further and further down. You can feel his breathing becoming labored, and you can sense that he's about to let go.

You take him as far as you can, your mouth and throat feeling like they're on fire as you milk him for every last drop. His body quivers and shakes as he releases, and you swallow every drop of his pleasure.

“Damn, Syulang.” He moaned, his hand holding your face gently

You can feel yourself trembling as you pull away, the taste of him still lingering on your tongue. You look up at him, and the look of bliss on his face is all you need to know that you did a good job.

He gets down on his knees with you, and he pulled you into a passionate embrace. His lips were soft and inviting against yours, and his hands moved to cup your face as he deepened the kiss. His tongue explored and caressed, and you felt your body melting against his.

His hands moved to your waist, and he pulled you closer. His lips trailed down your neck, sending shivers of desire through you. He cupped your breasts, and you gasped as pleasure surged through you. His hands moved lower, and he tugged at your loincloth, eager to explore more of your body.

You untied it for him, and his hands roamed over your body, caressing, exploring, and arousing you until you were trembling with need. He moved you back to the sand, and you sank into it as he settled between your legs.

He kissed your throat, and you felt his hardness pressing against you. He teased you, his movements increasing in intensity until you were both panting with desire.

With one smooth motion, he entered you, and you gasped as pleasure surged through you.

He moved slowly at first, and then faster, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through you. You clung to him, and he groaned with pleasure, his movements becoming more urgent.

He began to rut into you at an unmatched, animalistic, pace.

“Rub that little clit for me, huh?” He brought your hand down for you

You listen to him and begin to stimulate yourself while he fucked you.

“Gonna make me cum if you keep clenching down on my cock like that- fuck!” Ao’nung cursed

“Ao’nung I, I’m gonna…” You whimpered

“I know, go on baby, do it for me, cum on my fucking cock, do it.” He relentlessly thrusted into you, making your eyes roll back and your hands dig into his arms

Your orgasm almost broke you, made you over sensitive. He fucked you through it with reassuring words of praise with small kisses.

Once you came down from your little high, Ao’nung picked his pace back up, his own personal goal was to cum in your sweet little pussy tonight.

And oh how he did.

Refused to pull out even after, but when he did, he watched his own cum dribble out of you with awe, and then used two of his fingers to push it back in you.

He lies there with you, holding you to him as close as you would let him.

“Missed you so much.” He mumbled

“Missed you too.” You tiredly answered

taglist: @danniackerman @loakslut

[s0fter-sin]

nik finding out ghost’s father is still alive

he teases out personal information from him over years of careful dedication; always knowing when to back off, always knowing when ghost needs him to push just that little more so he can free himself of his own memories

it’s not always important; sometimes it’s little things like preferring full fat milk for his tea or that he enjoys morning runs with his back to the sunrise. that he prefers to sit in an armchair than a couch and he hates the feel of cotton balls but endures it anyway

it takes a while before he gets to the deep things. the tragic things. broken plates. snake infested beds. dead prostitutes in toilet stalls

all with one man at the centre of them

ghost isn’t shy about his opinion of his old man; he knew he was a cowardly, addicted bastard who stood up for what he believed in only so long as the person he was standing against was weaker than him. he tells nik how close he came to killing him one night when he found him passed out on the couch; foaming spit and vomit all around him. he tells him how much he wished he knew then what he knows now; how he could’ve killed him with a toothpick if he just learned earlier

and he tells him that even unconscious, even when grew bigger than him, when he was stronger than him, ghost was still too afraid of him to try

he tells him around a shared cigarette that he got the call about his cancer just after he enlisted; how bitter he felt that he wouldn’t be around to watch him suffer and wither away. and it’s with a sour laugh that he tells him it was a few years after his first deployment that he got the call that he was in remission

“bastard couldn’t even give me that much,” he scoffs and stares at the smouldering butt long enough that nik takes it from him before he can snuff it out on his skin. “know the funny part of all this? i’ve killed hundreds of men. i know how to use more weapons than i can count- i’m the fuckin’ ghost…

“and i’m still fuckin’ scared of him.”

silence falls and nik sits in it; in the cruelty and discomfort of a man’s fear. he thinks of an old wooden home with its little chapel at the end of the yard. he thinks of silent dinner tables and repeated prayers over the crack of a belt. he thinks of the weight of a bible clutched in his hands and how it never eased the heat of his blood dripping down his back

he thinks and lights another cigarette and pretends ghost’s hand isn’t shaking when he offers it to him. because that’s all he can do

for now

-

months pass and nik does ghost a favour by acting like he’s forgotten their conversation on the roof despite them both knowing it’s bullshit. you don’t just forget sharing something like that; the shame of admitting and the hatred of knowing are too strong for something as merciful as forgetting

but they don’t talk about it again

months pass, missions blur together except for the ones that really don’t and it’s been a while since nik was in country when he slides up beside ghost as he oversees recruit training

he doesn’t say anything; just lets ghost feel his presence, conveniently from behind so he can slip something in his hands held behind his back before he steps up beside him. they watch the repetitive drills and the repetitive mistakes until ghost barks at them to fuck off or he’ll make them run until they puke then make them keep running

he waits for the last of them to huff and puff their way to the showers before bringing his hands to the front and unfolding the paper nik gave him

he doesn’t get past the first line before he stills

ghost forces his head to turn, eyes reluctantly dragging away from the paper to nik who stands waiting expectantly

“a gift,” nik says simply. “it does not bode well to have a haunted ghost, yes?”

he doesn’t let himself deflate the way his body wants; he keeps his back straight and shoulders wide and lets out a carefully controlled breath. “it last long?”

“oh yes,” he nods with a wide smile. “hell received quite a few pieces.”

ghost nods back and looks down at the paper in his hand, refusing to acknowledge the fine shake running through it. it isn’t enough to blur the cutout from a manchester local newspaper and reading it again makes his knees weak with 30 year old relief

missing: norman riley

[writeriguess]

So this is like a semi emergency request. I’ve seen people ask other blogs for those, if it’s not ok on your blog just ignore me!

But do you think you could do a Hawks x reader where he’s like her husband and he constantly has to remind her to drink some water because she’s just the type that won’t if not begged to. So like one day she gets really sick when she gets home after patrolling all day and she faints due to dehydration from not drinking water for a while.

I’m going through a wicked case of dehydration rn because I’m just not the type to drink water often and I just need the comfort. I definitely regret my decisions and I’m going to try to be better about drinking water, I think I’m learning my lesson lolll

author's note: I want to be clear—this is a one-time exception. With a busy season ahead, there will be entire weeks when I won’t be able to check Tumblr or write. During those times, I won’t be available for “emergency requests.” My first busy period starts in just a week and a half, and right now, I’m scrambling to get through requests because I won’t be able to cover those two weeks I’ll be away. If I started receiving more of these last-minute requests, they would slow me down too much. That said, I do hope you feel better soon.

Also, just a quick heads-up: Tumblr’s gif library has been down for several days, so I won’t be able to include gifs in any fics requested less than a week ago. I’m really sorry about that! Hopefully, it’ll be fixed soon.

Flight Risk

The moment you step through the door, exhaustion weighs you down like a lead blanket. Your limbs feel heavier than usual, your vision swimming slightly as you toe off your boots. Patrolling had been brutal today—villains popping up left and right, citizens needing assistance, and of course, the unrelenting sun bearing down on you. Still, you push through, ignoring the sluggishness in your body, the dryness in your throat. It’s nothing you can’t handle.

Keigo, however, would strongly disagree.

“Babe, did you drink any water today?” His voice carries from the kitchen, where he’s leaning lazily against the counter, golden eyes flicking toward you. The way his wings shift—just the slightest ruffle of irritation—makes it clear that he already knows the answer.

You wave him off, too drained to deal with his nagging right now. “I’m fine, Hawks.”

He arches a brow. “That wasn’t the question, dove.”

You roll your eyes and mumble something incoherent, making your way toward the couch. You don’t even get the chance to sit before the dizziness swells into something much worse. The room tilts, your knees buckle, and then—nothing.

When you come to, the first thing you register is warmth. Something soft and feathery is draped over you, and it takes a few sluggish blinks to recognize the familiar red of Keigo’s wings wrapped around your body. His scent—fresh air, something musky and warm—grounds you, but there’s an underlying tightness in the way his arms are curled around you.

“Seriously?” His voice is quieter than usual, but the edge in it makes you wince. “How many times do I have to tell you to drink some damn water?”

You shift slightly, only to be met with a firm press of his hand against your forehead. “Uh-uh. Don’t even think about moving yet. You scared the hell outta me, you know that?”

Guilt settles heavy in your stomach. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Didn’t mean to?” His laugh is hollow, and he pulls back just enough for you to see the crease in his brows. “Sweetheart, you passed out. In our living room. After I specifically asked you if you drank any water today.”

You avert your eyes, feeling suddenly small under his gaze. “I was busy.”

Keigo lets out a sharp exhale, clearly biting back whatever smart remark is on the tip of his tongue. Instead, he shifts, grabbing a glass of water from the nearby table. “Drink.”

You hesitate for a second too long, and immediately, his expression darkens. “Drink, or I swear to God, I will hold your nose and pour it down your throat.”

A laugh bubbles up despite yourself, weak and hoarse. “That’s dramatic.”

“And you’re impossible,” he grumbles, but there’s no real bite to it. He lifts the glass to your lips, watching closely as you sip. The water is cool, soothing against your parched throat, and you hadn’t even realized how desperately you needed it.

Once you finish, he sets the glass aside with a sigh, running a hand through his messy blond hair. His wings twitch slightly before curling tighter around you, caging you in his warmth. “You can’t keep doing this,” he murmurs, voice softer now. “I don’t care how strong you are. You have to take care of yourself, or I will—personally. And trust me, baby bird, you won’t like my methods.”

You hum, nuzzling into his chest. “Wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.”

Keigo groans, pressing a lingering kiss to the crown of your head. “You’re gonna be the death of me.” But the way his arms tighten around you, the way he stays tucked against you for the rest of the night, says otherwise.

He just loves you too much to let you slip through his fingers—even over something as simple as forgetting to drink water.

The next morning, you wake up to the sound of rustling feathers and the warm press of a hand against your cheek. Blinking blearily, you see Keigo crouching beside the bed, his golden eyes scanning your face with clear concern.

“How do you feel?”

You stretch your arms slightly, feeling a little less drained than before. “Better,” you admit, voice still raspy. “Still a little tired.”

Keigo frowns but nods. “That’s expected. You were majorly dehydrated. I had to keep waking you up last night to get you to drink more.” He gestures to the nightstand, where an empty water bottle and another half-full one sit.

A pang of guilt washes over you, and you reach for his hand, giving it a small squeeze. “I’m sorry, Kei.”

He scoffs, but there’s no real irritation in his expression. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll accept your apology on one condition.”

You tilt your head, wary. “What is it?”

Keigo grins, but there’s a sharp glint in his eyes. “You’re not allowed to leave this bed until you finish another full bottle of water. No sneaky dumping it in a plant, no ‘accidentally’ knocking it over. I’m watching you.”

You groan but take the bottle anyway. “You’re a menace.”

“And you’re a flight risk when it comes to taking care of yourself,” he quips back, pressing a quick kiss to your temple. “But you’re my flight risk.”

With that, he settles in beside you, watching closely as you take slow sips from the bottle. You know he’s not going to let this go anytime soon, and honestly, with the way his arms wrap around you like a protective cocoon, you don’t mind one bit.