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madschiavelique · 1 year ago

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𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 (𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨'𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

summary : miguel didn't like very much the way you left him all horny for you in the toilets during the unexpected mission, so once the anomalies have all been maintained, he decides to teach you proper manners

content warnings : SMUT (18+) minors dni, lots of tension, soft!dom miguel, quick boob job, cunnilingus, "it's too big", pnv sex, miguel teaches reader magic words, so much kissing i swear, no use of Y/N, biting, mention of scars (from fights, miguel's) - let me know if i forgot any !! word count : 7,7k

note : i'm sorry i took SO LONG writing this baby, but here it is (and not yet proofread but i couldn't wait hehehe). the end is corny i AM SORRY but it was already long and this is to keep a pretty open. thank u all so much for ur support !! we passed the 400 subscribers today and i'm literally jumping to the ceiling of happiness. this is the last part of the 4shot, i hope you liked it <33 i was super inspired by Shameless by The Weeknd (one of my favourite songs hehehe). enough of me talking, love u guys !!

the previous parts : 1 - love bite 2 - late night training 3 - unexpected mission

tag list : @marit332 @coralineyouareinterribledanger @sunnyx07 @mamamiriamxo @l3laze @amy180801 @gojos-goth-gf @readingfan @cheezit-luv3rr @scaleniusrm @cowboyharrryy

Miguel hadn't followed you, so you decided to lure the creature back by calling out to it:

"You're really terrible at hide-and-seek, you know that?”

Suddenly, it turned towards you and charged at you as you leapt into the air to keep it at bay, at least long enough for Miguel to finish... what he had to do. The sound of his breathless voice replayed in your head, the heat in your cheeks rising. You propelled yourself silently up to a floor above, observing the behaviour of the dough.

The feel of his fangs on the skin of your neck, his tender kisses on your cheeks, the hard feel of his erection against your thigh as his claws pressed into the skin of it...

"Oh my god you're going to be the end of him!" exclaimed a small voice beside you.

The anomaly turned towards it at the same time as you: Lyla.

"Lyla?" you choked out, swivelling your head just in time to avoid the anomaly that had climbed extraordinarily nimbly to your floor.

"His pulse quickened, his body heat increased and his muscles contracted amazingly hard!" she chirped as you mimed shutting up or lowering her voice, but she wasn't listening and you started darting from floor to floor as she continued "You've got him completely wrapped around your finger! No pun intended."

"Please Lyla, keep it down!" you begged her, feeling like a huge red tomato as you blushed and above all hoping not to be chased away by this abomination.

"Oopsie," she smiled, placing a hand over her mouth.

The anomaly swung a ball of paste at you, and you narrowly avoided it as it crashed and exploded with power, splattering you as it went, a large drop smearing across your suit.

"I didn't know you had access to... all this," you muttered breathlessly as you ran down a corridor to get away from the unspeakable thing. "It doesn't matter... Yes, it does matter actually, how come?"

"Don't be angry, you've just given me what little fun I'm allowed to have," she said with a pout, "you know, programme life isn't always fun."

Out of breath, you let out a sigh that relaxed your shoulders with its depth. You shook your head for a moment.

"Well, we'll talk about it later, can you identify this for me?" you asked breathlessly, silently, as you spooned some of the substance and held it up to a small metal support on your watch, which lit up when you dropped a little on it.

"My pleasure, sugar," she said with a quick clap. "Hmm, that looks like a basic bread dough mixture to me. Flour, water, salt, yeast, not forgetting the anomaly gene, otherwise it wouldn't be any fun."

"It's true that I'm bursting with laughter," you say, putting both hands on your hips, still trying to catch your breath. You looked at her for a moment, biting the inside of your cheek, hesitating before asking, "Is Miguel... Done?"

"Yep, he's on his way," she said, giving you an amused wink, and you couldn't help but let a little laugh slip from your nose.

"Right," you said, clearing your throat so the anomaly could hear, "I'm going to lure this thing towards the exit!" You could hear the oily, slimy sounds coming in your direction, turning to Lyla one last time to ask: "Make sure you send Miguel my location, okay?" you said as you started to trot off.

"Already done!" she replied, blowing you a kiss which she pressed onto her hand before disappearing in a cloud of pixels.

You ran on, stammering aloud to keep the beast at your heels: " Come this way! You know, I think you'd really like rock, I've got two friends who play really well, I think you'd love to meet them!"

The pile rumbled behind you. You leapt into the air, grabbing the glass dome and hanging upside down, standing with your arms crossed over your chest.

"No, really, I think you'd like it. Oh well! You've got a head that could listen to metal, plus you've got exactly the right mouth shape to sing it, you know."

It was rumbling from the ground, right underneath you.

Then, just above you, you felt a tap on the thin glass roof, and when you looked up, you saw Miguel. It was a funny sight, the way you were standing made it look like you were reflecting yourselves in a mirror.

"Oh, hi there," you smiled behind your mask, taking on a slight intonation as if you hadn't been the cause of his delay. "Did everything go well?"

He let out a desperate sigh, the red glasses on his suit narrowing, before simply saying:

"Something unexpected came up, it was very... frustrating. But I'll wait."

I'll wait. The very word made you gulp.

"Observations?" he asked, jerking his chin in the direction of the anomaly just below you.

"It's dough, we'd just have to find something to bake it with," you suggested.

Outside there was a loud bang: the lorry Gwen and Hobie had been chasing had started to roll over, and the anomaly, just as alert as you and Miguel, leapt towards the first bay window to get out.

Gwen and Hobie seemed to have managed to deal with their anomaly, the truck was completely dented, sideways, and luckily for you, the oil from the truck was starting to spread on the ground. You got out, Miguel following to examine the situation. All it needed was a spark...

"I'll try to coat it with a bit of oil, find a lighter, a box of matches, whatever," he warned, before dashing off towards the pile of dough.

You looked around, and there, as luck would have it, was a convenience store. You leapt towards it. Managing to light a lighter with your costume on would be complicated, so you managed to find a box of matches, rushing towards the street again.

Miguel kept jumping up and down to coat the anomaly, and when he finally saw you coming, he shouted: "Light it up.

So you grabbed a match, struck it against the side of the box and threw it into the oil. You stepped aside and ran further to avoid taking any damage from the fire. It immediately licked at the anomaly, which let out horrible, high-pitched screams as the paste on its body cooked and smoked, turning golden and thinning little by little.

And so, you launched the multidimensional cell that had been given to you, and finally imprisoned the anomaly.

"I think 'the more the merrier' is a phrase I like less and less," said Gwen as you catalogued the anomalies.

"Are you kidding me? This was so much fun," said Peter. "It was like doing MMA!"

"Speak for yourself, we took care of the Magic Bus driver," Hobie huffed.

"I think Gordon Ramsey would be proud of our muffin," you agreed.

"You have to admit it smelled good," confirmed Pavitr.

Everything had gone well, Gwen had finished her exam period and you were all filling in your reports. Everything was going well, and everyone was pretty relaxed, except maybe you.

It was a pretty nasty trick you played on Miguel, leaving him like that, so close to the climax, and then leaving. And somewhere in there, you feared and waited impatiently for what was to come.

You couldn't help glancing at him from time to time. He seemed to be concentrating, but sometimes you could feel his gaze on you, insistent. You found him incredibly calm, and maybe it was just because he hid it well, but just to see him lose a little of that control, you managed to brush past him for a moment when no one was looking, your knuckles deliberately brushing his thigh before joining the others. Pretending to be interested in their conversation, you couldn't help but glance over at Miguel.

Death stare was probably the closest you could come to defining the look he was giving you at that moment, and a shiver of dread ran down your spine as you swallowed. He seemed to chew the inside of his cheek for a moment, trying to act as if nothing had happened.

You weren't going to get out of this alive, or entirely.

"Well, I don't know about you, but the lack of sleep knocked me out, so I'm going to bed, see you later!" said Gwen before leaving.

"Same here, see ya," said Hobie.

And successively, the only ones left were Peter, Miguel and you.

He waited patiently, with you beside him, until Peter had finished his report and, like all the others before him, had gone to sleep. The seconds seemed to stretch out painfully, every movement and possibility accentuated by the wait. Miguel seemed tense, and you had no idea whether Peter could feel it from his side too, but you could feel your skin tingling with anticipation.

Every moment, every second tickled your mind and body like tiny needles, Miguel's gaze resting insistently on yours.

"Well, that's not all, but I think we've all got better things to do than hang around making a report," Peter yawned. "Good night, sleep well."

Oh, it won't be sleep.

He then waved goodbye one last time, turning his back to you as he headed for the exit. Miguel turned to look at you, taking a deep breath as he tilted his head back to look at you from an even higher angle.

The footsteps echoed around the room, fading away little by little as Miguel's eyes turned red, yours watching them and stifling a gasp. He took a single step closer, no more, but it was enough to intimidate you and for you to take a step backwards.

It was when the door finally closed behind Peter that he grabbed you powerfully around the waist and pinned you down on one of the desks, causing you to squeal in surprise as you widened your eyes for a moment, blinking frantically. In less time than it took to say 'empanada' Miguel had you completely under control, immobilising you faster than poison and more powerfully than a pair of handcuffs.

His nose wrinkled slightly.

"Did you enjoy your little act?" he asked, his tone extraordinarily calm, which made him all the more menacing. "Leaving me like that without finishing what you'd started?"

Your heart was racing, and suddenly just meeting his gaze seemed too powerful to maintain eye contact, so you turned your head to the side. Was it simply because you were embarrassed by your own little prank, or was it just that the intensity of his eyes on yours was too much? But Miguel wasn't going to have it any other way, so with one of his hands he grabbed your jaw and redirected it so that you were facing him.

"It's very rude not to look into someone's eyes when they're talking to you, you know that," he whispered, moving a little closer. "We're going to have to correct that, and teach you polite forms of address."

And you couldn't argue with that, because right now it wasn't a choice you had to make.

"Speaking of politeness, I realise that you haven't used any magic words so far for our little encounters," he said, his thumb pressing and digging into the skin of your cheek.

He moved a little closer, tilting his head to one side as you felt his nose brush against yours, moving a little closer still to feel his lips brush against yours, the simple touch of them sending little electric currents of excitement through you...

But nothing, he just grazed his lips against yours, not moving any further, but not backing away either. Your breaths collided softly, his eyes still fixed on yours with insistence.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked, his voice composed and contained, as you tried to free yourself a little from the hold his hand had on your jaw, to no avail.

His lips, so close to yours and yet so far away, gave you electrifying sensations, but you wanted more. You wanted the two of you to kiss, for your lips to become one again, for you to be able to offer him the body's 'I love you'.

So you tried to move a little closer, meeting his lips to satisfy your desire, no, your need. But he pulled back slightly, causing you to sigh in disappointment. No, you'd have to tell him.

"Kiss me," you whispered, your voice small but audible, as if you were pouring your desire into his plump lips.

A smile, the stretch of his lips pulling them a little further away from yours.

"Where," the question sounding more like a command.

His thumb eased a little in its pressure and caressed the skin of your cheek for a moment before sliding across your chin, settling just below your bottom lip.

"There," you replied, your desperation for more contact growing stronger by the second as the only thought on your mind was his kisses.

You wanted to taste that rainy, woody flavour on his lips again, and feel them assault your body with kisses.

"Only there?" he questioned, provoking your cravings even more as your impatience was felt almost painfully.

It didn't seem fair, he seemed to possess incredible composure and cold-blood as your veins pulsed through your body like lava flowing from the volcano of your heart.

The little game Miguel was playing with you almost felt like a little revenge. Could you blame him? He wanted all this as much as you did, but he liked balance, he liked things to be even, and he was making you pay for the advance you'd dared to take from him.

His thumb pressed against your plump lip, his skin barely brushing against it, and it felt like a thread sticking out with no way of pulling on it.

"Yes- No!" you moaned, feeling like a child who was denied a sweet treat, unable to hide your longing for more as his touch confused you, "everywhere."

His lips were parted, as close as ever, his warm breath spilling over yours. His thumb had moved up the curve of your lips to press against the volume of her, his eyes fixed on it.

"I didn't hear that properly," he said, his eyes returning to yours.

Their carmine colour reflected your face: eyebrows slanted back, eyes almost watery, his thumb resting on your lips as he continued to caress it mathematically to elicit a reaction from you.

You tried to squirm away for a moment, but Miguel's hand on your waist held you in place with incredible ease.

He raised an eyebrow, obviously your attempt was in vain, he hadn't started hand-to-hand training the day before like you had, he'd been an ace at physical power and combat for much longer, so of course he could immobilise you in less than no time and much less delicately if the mood took him.

His lips brushed yours a little closer, and you could almost feel them completely. But this tiny glimpse of heaven wasn't granted to you, and you whimpered for a moment before finally just saying:

"Kiss me," you whined, "please."

His eyes crinkled with his smile.

"Mira que buena."

He finally kissed you, and it was like you had taken cotton candy in your mouth and as it melted you could feel all the little crystals of sugar that were hidden by the fluffiness of the sweet, a moan of relief vibrating from your lips against his lips.

Millions of tiny sparkles crackled under your skin, rising to the surface like champagne bubbles as Miguel cupped your face and kissed you. He took your lips as if you were holding the air that allowed him to breathe, his hand going round your side to slip under your back, pressing against your pelvis to bring it close to his.

He bit your lower lip lightly before pulling away, his half-closed eyes looking into yours again. His hand came to caress your cheekbone gently, with a tenderness that was almost unlike anything he had ever offered you before.

"Tell me more about these desires you mentioned.”

Your breath caught slightly, and you suddenly felt your face heat up fiercely, as if you were leaning over the hearth of a fireplace, its fire licking your face and your being from afar. You swallowed, formulating out loud your desires, all those thoughts you'd had about him even after your meeting at the Conditioning Centre and what had happened in the cabin, seemed difficult.

"Come on, don't be scared," he murmured before leaning over to kiss your forehead gently, offering you soft, sweet words to help you get the burning out of your soul.

All those thoughts you'd had, those warm nights during that week when you'd imagined the feel of his fingers, his lips, the sweet words that interested you as he searched inside you to expose you to him emotionally, all of them could be said, especially the one that was vibrating immensely inside you at the moment.

"I want... I want you to..."

You had the impression that the words you were about to say would be like throwing a tiny stone into still water, like stepping on ice and feeling it crack, like throwing alcohol into the fireplace that was warming you up.

The hand that was resting on your cheek ran down your neck, brushing your chest as it slid to your hip and slid all the way down to your thigh, stopping in its descent at that very spot, his hand gripping it.

"Hmm?" he asked, his humming vibrating against the skin of your cheek and tickling you.

You bit the inside of your lip, your teeth pressing into your flesh and trapping some of the wet skin against your bottom teeth. You released this clutch with a gasp as your voice dropped to a whisper when you whispered :

"I want you to fuck me."

His eyes crinkled as he smiled, an eyebrow raised, his proud grin stretching across his cheek as his lip parted wide enough to reveal his fangs. He came to kiss your cheek, his soft lips caressing it as his lashes offered you butterfly kisses.

His grip on your thigh softened, his thumb making circular movements against your covered skin as a warm cloud began to form in your lower belly.

"Say that again," he said, his breath landing on your neck as his thumb began to move slightly up your inner thigh.

You tilted your head back, closing your eyes as the simple sensation of his fingers on your body caressed you sublimely, a sigh of ease slipping from your lips. Miguel then took the opportunity to kiss the corner of your jaw, laying a trail of kisses that mixed sweetness and hunger, kissing and biting your skin. He lowered his lips a little further down your neck and kissed you lazily, the coolness of his lips meeting the fire burning at the back of your head. His lips reached a sensitive corner, causing you to let out a moan.

You moistened your lips, your cheeks burning as Miguel's fingers traced the sensitive skin of your thigh and his other hand rested on the small of your back, close to the cloud of heat.

And he expected you, with all these delicious distractions, to be able to string a sentence together properly and clearly. So you tried to speak louder, swallowing before saying:

"I want you to fuck me."

His lips came away from your neck, just brushing your ear before coming back to face you. The red of his eyes was deep, hungry, but above all attentive to your every move, which made him even more intimidating. His lips were so close to yours that you could feel them moving close to your skin as he spoke.

"There must be something with my hear because I can't hear properly what you said," he said, his tone a little less contained than he had managed to convey before, less composed, "say it louder."

His fingers continued their trajectory, very close to you, to where your desires came from, the knot in your lower abdomen tightening even though he never reached the spot. So this was the intense despair he'd felt earlier? The pain of his desire overcoming his thought and logic in the simple hope that he would be touched to turn the pain into sweetness?

You tried to move your hips a little, in the simple hope that he might go further, touch you, but he steadied you in an instant with his hand on your back, making you let out a little cry of longing.

You bit the inside of your cheek, your gaze meeting his for a moment, and you saw it in the reflection of his eyes: the breadth of your desire spreading through your whole body.

You breathed in, gathering your strength and thoughts to say, "I want you to-"

His hand went up your back to the nape of your neck and traced up and down your spine, your body undulating uncontrollably as you concluded with a strangled sigh:

"Fuck me, please."

His carmine eyes watched you through his long black lashes, a proud sneer stretching his lips, your request seemed to have pleased him greatly.

If you had something to ask him, you might as well ask him politely. He tilted his head to one side, the light illuminating his jaw over his massive shoulder, it was so sharp it could have cut glass. Did he have any idea of the hold he had over you?

"Muy bien, bien hecho, muñeca," he murmured before kissing you again, gently.

His kiss was demanding, hungry, eager for your lips to be captured by his. Your hands, until now too afraid to touch anything or attempt any gesture, were tempted by the need to touch him in turn. They came to rest on his face, cupping it as he devoured your mouth relentlessly, his kiss a mixture of thirst, craving and the occasional sensation of his canines scratching your skin.

His thumb had moved up to your groin, deliberately avoiding and brushing very close to the part you'd been dreaming of him touching. Both his hands were now on your hips, gripping them to draw them to his.

And the electrifying sensation of his erection meeting in a single touch the excitement of your cunt that had grown inside you caused you both to moan together.

Your hand snaked through his hair, his sighs of comfort rushing into the depths of your body, blowing on the already burning fire inside you making it blaze and shine. His pelvis had begun to undulate against yours, the friction he was exerting against your covered flesh, against your throbbing clit, sending sparks throughout your body.

"Coño," he let out between kisses, one of his hands gripping your hip a little tighter to pull you closer to him and hold you in place while the other moved up your body like ivy on a statue, pressing against the back of your neck so that you were even closer. He wanted to eliminate any space between you, and you wanted it just as much, arching your body to his touch.

The kiss went from gentle to passionate, from passionate to hungry, and from hungry to needing more. Your tongues exchanged a waltz, and the next moment Miguel was back at your neck as your hand rested on his hip.

You needed more closeness, more of everything, but less clothing. He pulled you in again, straightening you up so that you ended up sitting on the desk, both your mouths still dancing.

He placed both hands firmly under your thighs, ready to lift you up.

"Hang on," he whispered between two kisses.

Without missing a beat you wrapped your legs around his waist, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck as he lifted you with incredible ease, heading for a door at the back of the room: Miguel's quarters.

To avoid being bothered by anything during his precious, absent sleep, Miguel didn't belong to any of the dormitories, sleeping in secluded quarters. One of his hands came up to grip one of your buttocks, grasping it with his full hand and kneading it, a little hum of pleasure vibrating from your lips against his as you nibbled on it. You kissed his cheek, tracing his jaw with your wet skin.

As he depixelised his hand from his suit and placed it on the digital recognition pad, you gently kissed his neck, a rumble rising in his throat, a mixture of threat and plea for patience. But how could you still be patient? It was impossible, you were each other's tinder box and lighter.

As soon as the airlock opened, he came to kiss you dangerously, not tiring for a moment of the sensation of your lips caught between his. He walked quickly and eagerly, his erratic breathing colliding with your warm skin.

You rounded a corner, and the familiar sensation of a mattress under your back met you almost brutally. You were out of breath, lying back, looking at Miguel.

He stood there, looking down at you. His hair was dishevelled from the passage of your hands, his eyes shining like two rubies in the half-light, watching you hungrily. He towered over you, dominating you with his size and power. You shuddered, because at the moment he looked like a predator facing the prey he was about to devour.

He chuckled, moving closer as he put one knee on the mattress, one of his hands coming to rest beside your head, leaning gently over you, crawling up to spread your thighs as his face came level with yours.

And it was with the sensitivity that only lips possess that he whispered to you:

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this," his mouth hungrily came to reclaim yours, his other hand sliding up your waist to reach your hip and hold it in place as he consumed you.

You were in his grip, entranced, trapped in the web of desire he had woven in your mind, every thread of which you touched bringing the spider back to its prey.

His hand came up to your head and nestled under the nape of your neck, looking for the zip to take off your suit. You helped him, pressing a little harder against his lips in your kisses as you raised your head to help him pull it off.

He found it, and you could feel with what composure he was pulling it. You knew perfectly well that if it had only been up to him, your suit would have been ripped to shreds and it would have been impossible to reassemble it properly and put it back together in one piece. But he was holding back, with difficulty.

The sensation of all those little metal teeth coming loose against your back and letting your abundantly heated skin breathe sent tingles through each of your ribs and down your spine, your back arching all the more at the sensation. Maybe having absolutely nothing under your costume could be complicated in certain situations, but it had never been as practical or as pleasant as it was right now. And Miguel seemed to agree.

His hand came to pull at the fabric, exposing your shoulder, and feeling his fingers run over it made you shiver. He continued to pull gently, your chest meeting the cool air until your breasts were bare.

He broke away from your lips for a moment, watching your skin like a flame and its enchanted dance. And you were burning, your whole body aflame with his touch, his kisses, his eyes. You couldn't undress him on your side, his costume knew no beginning or end other than pixels, and you found that profoundly unfair.

Then, very gently, his hand came to hover over your skin. It barely grazed, not even touching it, passing over the roundness of your shoulder, following your collarbone up to your cheek. He placed his hand on it, and it was as if your body was a diamond, every facet of which was illuminated by the light from his hand.

"Tan linda," he whispered, nestling back into the crook of your neck, kissing the warm, tender skin there. His kisses trailed down to your collarbone, sucking on your skin from time to time to reveal violet and pink flowers.

You hummed with delight under his touch, your body lighting up and glowing a little more with every touch of his lips against your skin. They came to rest between the valley of your breasts, his red eyes meeting yours as, while one of his hands pulled a little harder on the part of your suit that was still in place, his own suit began to depixel as he straightened up to face you.

Lips parted, you watched his body reveal itself, his tanned torso sculpted like a god. But above all, you couldn't help letting your eyes wander along the countless scars that marked his body.

Various shapes were mixed in, cuts, burns, strange, sinuous lines, all marking the traces of past dangers. And he had survived them all.

Gently, your hand came to rest on his cheek, pressing against your touch and kissing your palm as you let your fingers move down his torso. You let your fingertips trace a scar, caressing it gently, Miguel's breath shuddering against your skin for a moment.

Your breath caught in your throat as his bare hand grazed the skin of one of your tits, his thumb gently tracing the bouncing skin. His lips moved down the ridge of your breasts, kissing the soft, tender skin of it.

He looked into your eyes as he stuck out his tongue and ran it over your nipple slowly, the warmth of his saliva and the roughness of his muscle sending all sorts of little stars into your body.

It was as if your flesh was bare soil, and with his hands he brought forth flowers of many colours and intoxicating scents that enchanted you, making you drunk with his touch and the colours he painted under your skin.

His tongue traced the separation between your skin and your nipple, his hand resting on the other, pressing it gently between his large fingers. Then he kissed it gently, sucking lightly as his teeth grazed the sensitive skin. And as the moans multiplied between your lips, he stopped, a smile stretching his lips as his hand dripped down your waist and clutched the rest of your costume.

As he pulled it off, in a slow motion, he kissed his way down your belly, letting buds of caress blossom on your body. Reaching below your navel, he exchanged a glance with you, seeking approval.

As a simple response, you raised your hips, and he gently pulled the rest of the costume down, his bare fingers brushing your buttocks and thighs as he pulled until you were covered by nothing but your panties.

One of his hands grabbed your thigh, the other settled on your waist, lazily tracing your skin until it reached your groin, stopping there, drawing indescribable patterns as the fire in your lower belly heated up.

He stayed there, eyes riveted on yours, his other hand moving slightly up your inner thighs but not reaching your core either. The tingles it sent through your being were delicious, but you were getting impatient. Your pussy was almost starting to ache from the lack of touch and contact.

"Lower..." you murmured, your desires taking possession of your body, your reason silenced.

He tilted his head to one side, and the same words you'd said to him earlier in the bathroom came back to you:

"Say that again."

A grunt of frustration rattled against your teeth. Your own cards had just been used against you in your own game, and you had no say in the matter. His fingers continued to draw as if nothing had happened, sometimes reaching for half a second a little lower than where they were staying. You needed more.

"Touch me lower," you said, looking into his red eyes, which raised an eyebrow as if to say 'aren't you forgetting something?', so you punctuated your sentence with a little "please."

He smiled, dark, his tongue passing over his canine and his lip as he ran his fingers between your skin and the elastic of your panties, pulling the latter so that only the air, his hands and his warm breath covered you.

His fingers returned to your now naked groin, and he gently traced your skin, finally coming to touch your cunt, a sigh of respite taking hold of your chest as he gently passed a single finger between your lips.

"Hmm?" he hummed, raising his fingers to the height of his head, observing the sticky substance that glued to his skin, "would you look at that." Evidence of your arousal was placed before your eyes, "Am I the reason you're so wet ?"

Your head tucked into your shoulders, your cheeks heating intensely as he smiled wider.

"Tengo suerte," he murmured as his finger returned to your entrance, coating itself in more of your wetness as his thumb settled on your clit, making slow, hypnotic circular movements that tightened the knot in your lower abdomen.

Your hands clutched the sheets as you drew in a shaky breath, but he reached down and guided one of them to his hair, which you grabbed without hesitation.

"Like it when I touch you there?" he asked, echoing the words you had said to him in the cabin.

"Mhm," you agreed, unable to formulate a coherent sentence, inhaling more air as he pushed in his first finger.

His hands were big, his fingers thick, and he manipulated them all to perfection. His finger was streching you out, undulating to awaken exceptional sensations in you.

"How does that feel?" he asked, his tone composed and almost teasing in the way he asked you things.

"Good," you assented as he inserted a second finger, causing you to gasp out a moan, your eyelids closing of their own accord.

His fingers worked you out, curving up to touch the spot that made you see stars.

"Keeps your eyes on me," he whispered as his head lowered against your cunt, his hot breath falling against your damp skin, "I want you to see me."

With difficulty you complied, and he brought his tongue against your pussy, a moan of pleasure rising from your throat. The sensation of his hot, wet tongue licking your clit made your whole body burn.

Your hand gripped his hair more firmly, needing something to anchor it so that you didn't succumb entirely to all your vices. Miguel groaned at this gesture, and the sensation of his vibrant voice on your sensitive skin almost made you come in an instant.

Your pelvis moved of its own accord, and Miguel immediately grabbed it to immobilise you, his fingers and tongue working together to make you moan even more.

The sight reminded you immensely of the bullet incident: his eyes reddened, his tongue and lips resting on you while your fingers were knotted in his hair.

You were beginning to feel as if you were flying away, but it was at that precise moment that Miguel stopped, pulling his fingers out and his mouth away. You whimpered, a whiney complaint filling your mouth as you laid your head back in disappointment on the pillow, Miguel moving up to your face.

"I just wanted to make sure you'd know what it feels like."

The torment was unbearable, and you bit your lips for fear that, on the instant, you might send an insult into his face.

"Oh," he said, raising an eyebrow, "did I make you mad?"

His tone seemed almost condescending, addressing you as if you were a child. He brought his face close to yours, his eyes falling on your lips.

"Want me to fuck you, querida?" he questioned, his lips brushing yours "want me to fill you up with my cock?"

You looked up at him through your eyelashes, simply nodding in response as his simple words managed to make your hair stand on end.

"Use your words," he said simply.

"Yes," you said, beginning to learn from his lessons, trying to find more strength in your voice, "fuck me, please."

He nodded, proud.

"Good," he said, bringing his two fingers, still covered with yourself, close to your lips, "open up."

Timidly, you parted your lips.

"Wider," he ordered in a calm voice.

You obeyed, and soon felt his moist fingers on your tongue. You licked them, his eyes watching with great interest. They were thick and having them both in your mouth wasn't easy, but by relaxing your jaw you eventually managed to suck them off properly, your eyes returning to his, feverish with desire.

Without further ado, he removed his fingers from your mouth and came to kiss your lips, hungry. The entre-met you had offered him wasn't enough, and he was fasting from it to be able to taste all the other parts of you that were still untouched by his lips.

His naked erection pressed against your cunt, and your hips undulated against the sensation as you let out an excited moan against his lips, your walls closing in on nothing.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he splayed his hand across your lower back, undoing the kiss to press his forehead against yours. He adjusted his cock in front of your entrance, coating himself in your juices, and just by that gesture and the memory of your hands, you knew it would be too much.

"Miguel it's," you breathed softly against him, "it's too big. I'll never-" but he cut you off.

"I'm sure you can take it, muñeca," he murmured softly, kissing your cheek.

He returned to kiss your lips, then asked before doing anything else:

"Ready?"

You inhaled softly, your eyes plunging into the red of his, before murmuring against his lips:

"Ready."

He nodded, coming to kiss you chastely before lining up his cock and thrusting in. A moan slipped from your lips, he was big, way too big.

"Shh," he soothed, kissing your temple, "you're tense cariño, breathe through your nose."

So you followed his instructions, trying to relax as much as possible as your nails on his back began to dig into his flesh. Your breath was coming in shaky gasps, your teeth sinking into your lip as Miguel whispered:

"You're doing so well," his hands gently caressing your arched back and thigh.

His voice relaxed you, your breathing a little more settled as he thrust deeper, stretching you out. He kissed your forehead tenderly, brushing the tiny tear from the corner of your eye with his lips.

"Just like that," he groaned, finally managing to fill you completely, "look at you taking me so well.

He kissed your lips gently, caressing the skin of your side. He kissed your cheek, then the side of your neck, sucking in one more mark.

Full, that's how you felt. He stretched you out fully, filling every inch of your being, meeting the warm cloud as he kissed you to contrast the sensation. And soon enough, you relaxed a little more.

"Are you ready for me to move?" he murmured, his thumb resting on your cheek.

As a simple response, breathing softly, you moved your hips on him. He smiled, kissing your lips softly as he pulled back slightly to push into you again, a shaky breath mingling with a moan that he swallowed from your lips.

His tongue came to meet yours, curling around it, sucking it between his lips tenderly as he took a slow rhythm to get you used to him.

He sprinkled kisses across your face, sloppy ones running over your warm naked skin, inevitably coming back to your neck, nibbling lightly. He traced your collarbone with his lips, running along it until he reached your shoulder, where the rounded skin was bitten and a moan was torn from your lips.

His hand came to take your arm, kissing the skin gently as he raised it, straightening slightly to manipulate and kiss it better.

His lips came to linger on the inner skin of your arms, depositing his lips gently as he traced that softened area, his pelvis taking on a slightly faster rhythm.

After the little treatment he'd given you, you weren't going to last long, so you let yourself be carried and touched by his adoring lips.

His tongue traced the skin on the inside of your wrist, his teeth grazing the separation between your hand and it. He came to kiss your palm, then delicately placed his lips on each of your knuckles before pressing it against his cheek.

Your thumb caressed it, and he surrendered to your touch. He then guided it to the side of your head, his fingers nestling in the crack of yours until your hands were intertwined.

"Qué guapa," he breathed.

His rhythm quickened, and you could feel the knot in your belly gradually tightening as Miguel's thrusting in and out of you became sublime, and the sounds you were making multiplied as he hit all the right spots.

Your fingers tightened on Miguel's hand as your other reached down his back to grip his arm, squeezing hard as you felt you were going to come.

"Miguel," you sobbed as he returned to kiss your lips, "I'm close."

It was a miracle you managed to get those few words right. The hand that wasn't intertwined with yours came to cup your face before moving down your body to grab your hip, a deep sigh escaping from his throat.

And you felt his canine gently bite your lip as the knot burst in your lower belly and a moan echoed in your throat. It was like a bolt of lightning striking against metal, spreading out in a powerful electric shock in your entire body as the pleasure beat like a second heart. Miguel's voice growled against your skin as you closed around him spasmodically, your nails clawing at his arm.

You twitched, Miguel kissing your forehead, your eyelids, your nose, your lips. You were slowly coming down from your clouds, the sensations you had gradually fading.

"Tan buena..." he whispered, close to your lips, "but I'm not done with you yet.”

His fingers loosened from yours as he grabbed your arms with both hands to pull you against him and straighten you up. He was sitting, still inside you, making you sit on top of him, facing him.

One of his hands grabbed one of your buttocks, guiding you to move back and forth on him, while his other was on your back, caressing it.

He came to attack your lips again, the sound of your two bodies meeting clapping in the air as you felt completely disorientated by the pleasure. The speed with which he entered you was exceptional, and the sensations he triggered were even more so.

His lips moved over the back of your neck, then settled on your shoulder, his breathing becoming more and more jerky.

You tilted your head back, your voice interspersed with the feeling of him pounding you, the heat in your belly not entirely gone and tightening again.

Then the hand that had been resting on your back slipped between your two bodies and caressed your clit, your breath catching as you felt the cloud spread once more to the small of your back.

Miguel's voice grew less hushed as his rhythm quickened, his fingers working your clit with speed as you felt the climax building up again.

And all at once, you felt his fangs penetrate your beloved as he gave a powerful thrust, and you both came. The earth stopped spinning as you felt like you'd been sent miles above the clouds, both your bodies warm against each other, both of you breathless.

Everything seemed soft, floating, an inner peace had taken hold of both of you as you came down from this peak of pleasure.

He held you against him gently, running his tongue over the two slits he'd made in your skin. He pulled out of you, placing you so gently and carefully on the mattress that it was as if he had a spider's web in his hands.

You snuggled up to him, and he pulled the blanket over you as he kissed you again.

You felt safe here, cuddled in his huge arms that wrapped around you, his hands caressing your body with pure adoration and softness.

You kissed his chest, on one of his scars, and he breathed a profound sigh.

"How did you know?" he whispered.

The end of his question never came, but it was simple: how did you know I wanted to be kissed here? Probably no one had ever touched him this way, here, like that.

"There's nothing like tenderness to soothe the scars." you smiled.

He breathed out, his eyes had returned to their natural brown. He pressed you a little closer to him, his eyes locked in yours. Blue words are the ones you say with your eyes, when your lips are too tired.

"Maybe we'll have to find a name for this pseudo-friendship?" he smiled, the little chat you'd had on the first mission coming back to you as you smiled and kissed him sweetly.

"Why when we already have two letters?" you replied, placing your hand on his cheek, kissing your palm as his hand caressed your waist.

"Two letters?" he asked, curious.

"Yeah," you confirmed, your voice becoming a whisper, "us."

He gave you a candid, sincere smile before kissing your lips softly.

"Yes," he nodded, "we could make a great us, muñeca."

Us, two letters, a whole world.

#madschiavelique ⟢ ݁ ˖‧˚₊ ☁︎#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel x reader #astv x reader #miguel ohara #miguel x you #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel x y/n #miguel spiderman #miguel astv #smut #Spotify

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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 2 months ago

Note

I've been doing a lot of things recently and I'm tired. I want the princess treatment. Could you write me something for anyone where the reader gets the princess, please and thank you.

I'm so sorry you're tired anon! <3 I hope things are getting better!

Princess Treatment

Steven Grant x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | requestinfo• ko-fi •

Summary: Steven knows how to take care of you.

A/N: I am so sorry, I have once again just turned an ask into porn.

Warnings: soft dom!Steven, fingering, p in v sex, cream pie, begging, some dirty talk, swearing, over use of italics, typos, not beta read, railroad sentences, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 1219

It had started out so innocently. With Steven wrapping you both up in a soft blanket on the sofa, two warms drinks on the coffee table while he fed you little squares of vegan chocolate.

He’d put a documentary on in the background, something you’d both seen and enjoyed so it didn’t matter if he talked all over it.

Steven mainly whispered silly jokes, alternating between his purposefully terrible puns and lewd tales to nibble and suck lightly at your neck.

“Open,” he muttered, pressing the chocolate to your lips.

You giggle and do as he asks. The sweet taste spreads along your tongue even as Steven slips the tip of his finger past your lips a little further than he needs to. He groans when you suck lightly, his throat bobbing.

“That’s so naughty love.” He murmurs.

You grin, releasing him. “No naughter than you.”

He tuts playfully, watching you for a moment until a cheeky glint begins to grow in his eyes.

Slowly, he puts his fore and middle finger into his mouth and sucks, making a show of it while keeping eye contact. Then slips his hand under the blanket and presses his hand under your leggings.

“Steven-” You whine, a little gasp leaving you as he circles your clit with his wet fingers.

“Shh, love.” He kisses your knee, sucking lightly as he angles his body even closer to you. “Just helping you relax after your long day.” He grins, unable to keep the glee out of his voice.

You jump under his touch, your thighs tensing as he teases in soft, agonisingly languid movements. A huff escapes your lips and you press your face into his neck.

His chuckle rumbles in his chest. “What’s that sigh for love? Hmm?”

“Stop teasing.” You grumble against his skin.

“Oh,” he slows his movements even more. “You want me to stop?”

“Stop teasing.” You all but growl.

“Oh, stop teasing… are you sure?”

“Yes.” The word comes out clearly in spite of how you are pressed to him.

There’s a long pause as Steven nods, pretending to think it over.

You’re just about to sit up and glare at him when he pulls his hand away from you, leaving you slick and wanting.

However, the groan of annoyance dies in your throat as he quickly manhandles you into the position he wants, your knees and head pressed into the settee cushions, face down ass up. He pulls down your leggings and underwear before you even have time to think, leaving them bundled above your knees so you can hardly move.

The air rushes from your lungs as he pushes his thick fingers back inside your weeping pussy, curling them until you yelp and grab helplessly at the sofa. He pushes his thumb against you, pressing and rubbing hastily at your clit so that you have to muffle your cries against a cushion.

“Steven-” Your own sharp cry cuts you off as he strokes deliciously inside, making your thighs shake and walls flutter. Pleasure builds and twists quickly, your body having a practically Pavlovian response to his touch.

“Hmm, yes love?” He shuffles a little behind you, rising up onto his knees without breaking the constant movement of his fingers.

You hiccup, already so close. “Please, I…”

He groans, biting lightly at your backside so you jump, “Love it when you beg, sounds so good.”

He bites his lip as your slick coats his fingers, unable to wait any longer. He pulls his jogging bottoms down just enough to pull his cock free, lining himself up with your entrance with his free left hand, while still keeping his right hand fingers inside you.

You tense as the thick head of him presses against you, shivering as he gently pushes.

“Oh fuck…” The words turn into a sweet cry and he starts to slip in, splitting you apart so wide as inches further, the combination of his fingers still stroking you deep making your eyes roll back.

He moans softly, humming in approval. “So nice and warm, love, god, you’re practically vibrating around me.” He shivers, bucking forward a little to bottom out and pushing to deeper into the cushions. “Didn’t know you were so desperate to be filled up?” He swallows, trying to keep some control and composure over his voice as he starts to buck shallowly, easing out and in with long, torturous strokes.

You cry out his name, rolling back against him, trying your hardest to get him to move faster.

But he tuts, “uh, uh, uh, you gotta just relaaaax and take it.” Steven draws out the word, speaking in time with the movement of his hips, slowing down a fraction every time you try to move faster.

You sob, pleasure so close to pain as your nerves scream for release, your body begging for the bliss that is so close and yet so far.

“Steven, please.” You don’t know what else to say, how else to get him to give in.

“Shhhh,” he squeezes your hip, still rocking so slowly, “god, it’s gonna be so good love, really, you’ll come so hard, I promise. It’ll feel so nice, you trust me right?”

The words that leave you aren’t really words at all, just an incoherent mess of sounds, but you nod your head weakly, your thighs shaking.

“That’s so good of you, you’re so good to me.” He moves back a fraction, arching so that he can watch his fingers and cock sink in and out of you. “You’re taking it so well, you’re so wet, you know that? Soaking me, god.” He grunts, his toes curling as he adjusts his position so he can thrust just right.

He knows he’s hitting right when you wail, your back arching. “Oh, so good love, so good.” He mutters, not really knowing what he’s saying as he watches your body try to bounce on his cock.

His arm hand squeezes your hip, stops you from going too fast.

Pressure buzzes along your skin, pulsates along your walls. It’s like you're going to explode. So close you just need a little push, just a little faster, one strong thrust and you could fall into that pleasure.

“Steven,” a cry catches in your throat as he rocks his hips. “Please, please, please, I need to come, I’m so close, I’m so, so close.” “You’re gonna come, it’s okay,” he soothes, not faltering in his pace. “You’re gonna be good and come all over me, aren’t you?” He eases out and back in.

“Steven,” you sob.

“Aren’t you?” He eases out and back in.

You whine.

“Aren’t you love?” His voice is so soft and gentle, holding you safe in its embrace as he slides back inside so languidly.

And you scream. Your body convulses as the dam breaks and your orgasm just washes over you. Flows along your veins like liquid gold as pleasure is pulled from deep within.

Steven keeps up his tempo, not even faltering, keeping on pushing you further and further into those earth shattering sensations.

It’s like you're weightless, floating, your limbs shaking. You’re vaguely aware of Steven’s own cry as he empties himself inside you, of the warmth of his chest against your back and the light kisses he leaves on your shoulder.

Thank you for reading!

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mangostarjam · 3 months ago

Text

one night (fruit) stand — bnha, todoroki shouto x gn!reader, fluff, "love" as a pet name, fruit puns sorry, pro heroes, aged up, no quirks mentioned for reader, 2.2k words

written for andie's pretty boy summer collab!

"This is for you."

The low, measured tone is a welcome respite from the joyful chaos of the farmer's market, but you balk as you look up from a basket of oranges — straight into the eyes of your one night stand.

"Wait," you say. Your brow wrinkles. The man — tall, ridiculously handsome, way out of your league — merely blinks his dichromatic eyes and lowers his hand slightly. He sets the cold can of milk tea on the table and reaches up to tilt his bucket hat a little further up his head, revealing a shock of red and white hair that looks vaguely familiar. But that's not the only thing — "You have the same bucket hat as one of our regulars. But he said it was exclusive."

"I do have the hat," the hottest guy in the world says. "I'm Todoroki Shouto. Do you remember me?"

You feel the flush burn in your cheeks and up the back of your neck as hazy memories from last night leap unbidden to your mind. There was the warm buzz of alcohol in your veins — the intimate, cozy izakaya — a flash of a charming smile and mesmerizing dichromatic eyes — your quietly giddy giggling as you twined your arms around a smooth neck to stretch up on tiptoes for a kiss — stumbling into a door, tripping over shoes in the genkan, wrapping your legs around a trim waist as your partner groaned into your mouth —

Of course you fucking remember Todoroki Shouto. That was the best night of your entire life, and he was the cause of it. But why is he standing at your farmer's market stall looking like the world's hottest model for bucket hats?

You left his beautifully rumpled bed this morning way before dawn, yanking your clothes back on and mourning the loss of his strong body curled up around your own, positive you'd never see him again. You know for a fact that he doesn't have your number or any contact info.

But now he's here. At your farmer's market stall. Wearing a disconcertingly familiar bucket hat.

Maybe it's one of those new trends? You don't keep up with heroes and wouldn't recognize their branding if it smacked you in the face, but at the very least you know that when a hero starts rising in the rankings, their merch starts popping up more and more often. The hat looks like it could be one of those — it's a solid black with orange on the inside (that clashes terribly with Shouto's hair, except he still looks unfairly good), a thin line of orange along the edge, and an embroidered… grenade… patch centered in the middle.

Why anyone would walk around wearing a grenade bucket hat, you don't know, but if it's hero merch then it makes more sense. So Shouto must be a fan of this rising hero — a huge fan, to get an exclusive hat like this, but — wait, he's staring at you and gosh, his blue and gray eyes are so gorgeous and when his lips quirk in that little lopsided smile your heart feels dangerously like it'll leap out of your chest.

"I take it you remember me," he says, still in that even tone but with an edge of laughter this time.

Your face heats even more and your hands clench around the basket of oranges. "Sorry, sorry," you clear your throat. "I just… wasn't expecting you."

Shouto nudges the can of milk tea closer to you. "I wanted to see you again," he says carefully. You glance at the can and blink. It's your favorite drink to pick up from vending machines. Did that come up last night?

"And you came here to… give me a drink?"

He nods. A light breeze ruffles the collar of his shirt. His smile tugs a little bit higher on his handsome face.

Well, then. That smile is dangerous.

Shouto waits patiently as you get called to deliver the basket of oranges you're clutching for dear life. He hovers at the side of your stall, looking woefully out of place in his bucket hat and crisp, clean clothes. You can feel a streak of dirt along your cheek and your clothes are all dusty, but every time you glance back at him, he's looking at you steadily and completely unabashedly.

It's embarrassing, but you can't deny the little thrill that shoots to your toes every time you meet his gaze. "Todoroki-san, you really don't need to wait here," you say, slipping back to him during another lull in customers. "Thank you for the milk tea, though! It's my favorite."

Shouto blinks slowly as he observes you. The scrutiny does nothing to help your nerves — it takes two tries to pop the can open, and Shouto looks endlessly amused the whole time. "I would like to wait for you," he says. A pause. You bring the can up to your lips for a sip. "And you may call me Shouto. I appreciated the way you said it last night."

You choke on your drink.

The way you said it last night — gasping into his ear, moaning into his steadily fraying kisses — oh, jeez. "Ah, fuck," you blurt out, eyes widening with horror at the stray flecks of tea you've splattered on his shirt.

"It is alright," Shouto says. He pats at the small spots delicately with his sleeve and then seems to deem it unimportant. You blink as he looks up at you from beneath messy bangs. "Are you feeling… well?"

What a question. What a look. Does he know how lethally attractive he is? You take a very careful sip of your drink. "I'm… sore."

Shouto hums in response and carefully begins rolling up the sleeves of his button up. You watch, mesmerized, as the corded muscles of his forearms and biceps flex with the sure movement. You take a slow sip of your drink with wide eyes as he finishes and sets his hands on his hips. "Let me help."

Jeez, the shoulders on this guy. You can't help staring at the breadth of him as he comes around the table and into your space. A breeze of minty cool air washes over you with the movement and suddenly your brain catches what he's said.

"W-wait, Todoroki-san," you yelp, setting your can down and reaching for him. He continues bending for the large crate by your feet, hefting it up with barely any effort at all, and you're caught standing there holding onto the edge of his shirt. "Todoroki-san, you don't need to help!"

"Call me Shouto," he says. You gape up at him uselessly. "I would not want you to injure yourself because I made you sore."

"I — you — Todoroki-san," you huff, tugging even harder on his shirt. Shouto pouts and moves to bring the crate to the small truck parked behind your stall. You're forced to follow him, wary of accidentally messing up his shirt even more, though you feel a little dazed with his pout etching itself into your brain.

"This goes here?" Shouto asks. You nod wordlessly, still processing the cutest fucking pout you've ever seen on a grown man. "Would you like to hold my hand instead, love?"

Whoa, what?

Shouto sets the crate in place and dusts off his hands before reaching down to very gently detach your death grip on his shirt. You should get your hearing checked. You're clearly hearing things, because the hottest man you've seen in your entire life couldn't have possibly just called you 'love'.

"Love?" you repeat.

Shouto's lithe fingers squeeze around yours briefly. "Would you prefer a different pet name? I recall you mentioning that you liked that one."

You snap your jaw shut. "I… did…" you say slowly. But you said that to your regular, the other bucket hat wearer, the guy who always came wearing a face mask for pollen and dark sunglasses and that exact same bucket hat that you've… never seen anywhere else…

Several things fall into place at once. You stare up at Shouto with slowly mounting horror.

"Todoroki-san, are you… Helpless Produce Guy?"

Shouto laughs. Oh. Oh, you're so stupid. That's the laugh that's plagued your dreams every day for months as you've nursed your silly crush on the worst grocery shopper you've known. "So that is what you call me."

"I've never met someone more hopeless about buying fruit and vegetables," you say blankly. "I remember teaching you how to choose carrots the other day. I can't believe this. I've been teaching you how to pick watermelon for ages and I never knew your name or face. Just that bucket hat."

"Oi, Icyhot," a rough voice suddenly speaks up from behind the two of you, and you spin around to find yourself face to face with a spiky blonde guy who is undoubtedly a hero if the huge, bulky muscles are any indication. He's wearing a face mask and sunglasses, but he's got several reusable tote bags stuffed to the brim with leafy greens and potatoes and apples hanging off his arms.

"If you don't finish flirting with your new partner soon, I'm not gonna teach you how to make my famous curry recipe," the newcomer says. Shouto seems unfazed, simply tugging you closer with your intertwined hands. "Didn'tcha say you wanted to impress 'em?"

"I believe they are impressed," Shouto says evenly, glancing down at you with the ghost of a smile flitting across his lips. "I am helping because they are sore."

It's just the slightest emphasis on "sore", but it makes you itch to kiss that stupidly handsome smug smile off his face. "I'm fine," you say.

"Gross," the other man says decisively. You snort as he spins around and stomps off to look at a particularly enticing basket of celery stalks.

"Sorry, Todoroki-san, I promise I don't call you 'Helpless Produce Guy' that often," you say.

Shouto squeezes your hand. Warmth tingles up your arm and melts your heart into giddy mush. "I don't forgive you." You gape at him. He tugs you a little closer. "I will not forgive you until you agree to call me by my name."

Is he serious? The slight wrinkle in his brow makes you think… yes.

"That's… I don't know if I can," you blush.

Shouto hums. "Then you may call me your 'boyfriend' until I can remind you how to say my name."

Holy moly. This guy.

"Alright, boyfriend," you cannot say it without ducking your head. Almost immediately, his long fingers tip your chin back up. "Are you secretly a five star gourmet chef and you've just been acting like you've never seen a basket of strawberries before?"

Shouto cracks a tiny grin that pierces your heart. "I assure you, the produce help was invaluable. However, I frequent your stall the most because I find you… lovely."

Oh, dear.

"I do not wish for our relationship to remain limited to your stall at the farmer's market," he continues, as if he isn't blowing your mind with every word out of his perfect mouth. "Hence, why I could not help but approach you when I realized we were both at that izakaya last night."

"And you… knew it was me. Even though I didn't have my work apron."

"You were telling your friends about Helpless Produce Guy," Shouto says drily. "I had a feeling I knew the subject — but yes, I would recognize you anywhere."

"Jeez, Shouto," you breathe. Those dichromatic eyes widen a fraction before narrowing as you take a step closer to him. "I didn't realize… where are your sunglasses and mask?"

He pats the front pocket of his button down assuredly. "I am prepared."

You cast a quick glance around. Your coworkers are handling the stall well, and fruits are practically flying off the shelves as Shouto's friend gives a lecture to a captive audience about the importance of fresh fruits and vegetables in a healthy diet. The two of you are tucked out of view, mostly hidden behind the truck.

"And this…" you gesture between the two of you with your free hand. "We're… dating?"

Shouto nods solemnly, but there's a sparkle in his eyes. "Yes, my love. You make my heart beat berry fast."

Your lips twitch before you can help it. "No."

"I think we make a good pear," he says. "I find you very a-peel-ing."

You burst into giggles and Shouto tugs you into his firm chest. The sturdy, steadily increasing heartbeat beneath your ear isn't quite loud enough to drown out your own rapidly leaping pulse.

"If you were a fruit you'd be a fineapple," he says into your ear. You shudder lightly at the low, even tone but snort at his deadpan delivery, soft as it is. "Is this okay? You said once that you liked these puns."

"I do," you nod. "And I'd love to date you. Since you have a peach of my heart."

"Good," he murmurs. You tip your head up to look at him and beam at the gentle blush rising on his cheeks. Shouto leans down to press a careful kiss to your lips, drawing back after a moment with a shaky breath. "I was running out of lines."

"Don't you mean you were running out of limes?" you snicker.

Shouto stares. And then, still with that soft, deadpan tone — "Every day with you will be mangonificent."

#prettyboysummercollab #shouto todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #shouto x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bnha fic #fuji writes fic #yeah bakugou is there to make sure shouto doesn't fuck up #i mean he SAYS he's just going bc he can't trust shouto to pick the right ingredients for curry #but they're besties your honor #also fun fact i have a hat with bakugou's grenade embroidered on it #from the shonen jump store #we were looking for the shouto version but deku's was his shoe and the lil electrical green zaps

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munsonthings86 · 8 months ago

Text

we've been celestial even before this

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: after she has a particularly rough day, steve takes his girl stargazing

warnings: cursing, fluff, soft!steve, established relationship (but still fairly new), oversimplified summary, reader depicted to be nineteen, these two being the biggest lovesick idiots for each other

an: i've been having a lot of fun writing about these two. they own my entire heart. hope you guys enjoy this one * don't copy my work *

wc: 6.1k

steve and sunshine's timeline

The trembling flame of the Coffee House scented candle illuminated your messy bedroom in a flickering, warm, honey light. The smell of the candle resembled nothing of coffee, more like hot cocoa or caramel you thought, but it did its job of calming your rattled nerves, nonetheless. Most of your wooden floor was hidden beneath neglected pieces of clothing that you'd pulled from your closet in a hopeless attempt to string together a decent outfit that morning. I'll tidy up tomorrow, you shrugged, though knowing you, there was a high possibility that "tomorrow" would turn into next week.

Procrastination was a terrible habit of yours, and the tension that the day left you with was doing very little to diminish it. Your early morning shift at Family Video was borderline torturous; Keith saw to that when he scheduled you sans Steve and Robin and had two inept new hires shadow you. Sure they were nice and all, from what you can recall anyway, but you were too out of it to bestow on them the patience you typically had.

Once the stint came to its much desired end, a dreadful date at the Indiana Bureau of Motor Vehicles awaited you. In your venture to become more of an independent and responsible "adult" (being merely nineteen, the word made your blood run cold), the goal of obtaining your permit was set in stone. The written test was passed with flying colors, but like any classic BMV nightmare, you'd forgotten a required document to actually get the damn permit.

Nearly plunging to your knees, you begged the grumpy old woman behind the counter to let you run back to your apartment that was “just down the street”. Truthfully, it was a thirty minute trip on foot, but she didn't need to know that. If you ran, you could make it back in twenty.

But, again, like any classic BMV nightmare, all she left you with was a hardly sympathetic, "Sorry ma'am, but if you don't have all the required documents, I'm afraid you'll have to come back tomorrow. The office closes in fifteen minutes." Through clenched teeth, you thanked her for her time, though she neglected to return the gesture, squawking "Next in line!" in a tone that was poles apart from her customer service voice.

Mercifully, your day wasn't all terrible. On the way back home, you stopped by the library to return a week's long overdue book and, instead of crucifying you for it, the lovely librarian recommended a novel she thought you'd appreciate. Rose in Splendor by Laura Parker. Unbeknownst to her, you'd been dying to read it ever since it was published last year. The grouch over at the BMV could definitely take a page out of her book. No pun intended.

Curled into bed and tucked under your beloved ivory crotched blanket, you thumbed along the pages through gravelly, blurry eyes. You kept promising yourself "one more page", but that was well over ten pages ago.

The male love interest was recounted having perfectly tousled brown hair with a body to die for, and you couldn't help but to think of your Steve. You missed him terribly in that moment and the one thing that kept your woe at bay was the anticipation of you two's nightly phone call. It was the selling point of all your days spent without him, truth be told.

The chime of the landline in the hallway between your kitchen and bedroom pierced through the otherwise silence of your apartment, prompting you to glance at the clock on your wall. 9:32 p.m.

Speak of the devil.

Folding a little doggy ear onto the page to preserve your place, the blanket keeping your legs warm was tossed among your strewn out clothes as you nearly slipped, scurrying to answer the phone. You couldn't bite back your smile as you pressed the receiving end against your ear, hearing the music that was Steve's voice, fill your mind.

"Hi, sunshine."

A breath that was unknowingly caged, freed itself at the sound. "You're nearly on time," you teased, referring to earlier today when Steve promised to call you at 9:30 sharp tonight. Usually, he called you earlier than this, but he was jammed with babysitting duties for the six kids you were considering adopting for yourself at this point.

"I know, I'm sorry," he chuckled. "They finally fixed that game at the arcade that's been down for the past few weeks. Gaga, I think it's called."

"Galaga," you corrected, giggling to yourself. It wasn't a rare occurrence whenever the kids would drag you along on one of their many hangouts, so you were rather well-versed in their nerdy recreations. "Yeah, that's the one. I could barely pry their grubby little hands off the thing. Especially Dustin."

Based on his tone, the roll of Steve's eyes as he spoke was nearly audible. As much as he complained about constantly having to be the one to look after the party, there was a part of him that covertly loved the fact that they depended on him so much. Not only was it somewhat of an ego boost, but he's always dreamed of having little nuggets of his own to protect and guide and treasure.

The daydream of Steve being the ideal father, unlike his own dad ever was, reeled your bottom lip between your teeth as the cord of the landline fell into the trap of your twirling fingers. It was so vivid; a shirtless Steve wearing blue jeans that hugged his bottom so perfectly, driving a rackety lawn mower along the wild grass of the front yard to the house you may or may not have pictured the pair of you living in.

In that utopia, the children that you may or may not have pictured parenting with Steve, sat behind the lemonade stand that was built by their father, giggling and toying with a leaky hose as they awaited customers. You'd be watching your little family from the boxy window of the kitchen, fixing them an afternoon snack, unable to contain your laugh when the hose goes haywire, soaking your lover from head to toe.

The imagery made you giggle out loud, head falling against the wall as your stomach cramped. "What?" Steve asked, laughing along with you though it's purely out of instinct, because of course he didn't know what you were laughing about. But hearing your audible delight was contagious. He couldn't help it.

"It's nothing," you assured, smiling softly before continuing, "just hoping your day was better than mine was."

"Well I don't like the sound of that," he frowned, sneakers squeaking against his floor as he shifted his weight onto his other leg. He watched as the days worth of dirt that'd found solace on his shoes, abandon patterned scuffs on the wood. Memories of the pointed sound of his mothers voice demanding no shoes in the house rang through his head like a siren at the sight. He would've ditched his footwear at the door, but he knew he was running late for his phone date.

"What happened?"

Commencing your response with a weary sigh, you shrugged, laughing dryly, "A lot. It's not even funny how exhausted I am right now."

Steve's chest tightened. He hated when you had a bad day; it left a bad taste in his mouth. Even worse, whenever Steve would make an effort to get to the bottom of what ailed his girl, he had a less than impressive success rate, seeing as vulnerability was one of your shortcomings. Steve knew better than to pry. But that didn't mean he wasn't going to do his damnedest to make these final hours of the day your best.

"I'm sorry to hear that, honey," he lowered his head, offering a comforting smile that though you couldn't see, you could hear in his voice. "'S alright," he heard you murmur.

It fell silent for a beat before Steve inquired, "When are you comin' home?", to which you furrowed your eyebrows, letting out a confused chuckle. "Uh, I am home."

Jokingly, the boy scanned his apartment and though he saw some of your forgotten belongings from previous visits, he couldn't seem to pinpoint you. "That's weird, I don't see ya. You hiding somewhere?"

The laugh that erupts from your core at your sappy boyfriend is inescapable. Your shoulders quake as you snicker and Steve's never heard a sound so sweet. Mission accomplished. For now, anyway. "You're an idiot."

"For you, yeah," he retorts, "thought we already established that." The apples of your cheeks are growing sore as Steve's honeyed words denies your smile the chance to falter. Any inconvenience that was precedent to this very moment was long forgotten by virtue of the prince charming that was your boyfriend.

"I'll come see you soon, lover boy," you quipped.

"You makin' fun of me?" He was completely unoffended. Prior to the few weeks of you dating, Steve spent the better part of the past decade containing his cascading love for you behind the dire dam of the friendzone. Despite delay, the dam was broken and there was no playing "Mr. Cool Guy". Steve was crazy about you. And he'd be even crazier to not show it.

"I wouldn't be me if I didn't," you teased. "I'm gonna head to bed, though. I have another shift in the mornin'. That damn Keith," you rolled your eyes, groaning as Steve laughed through his nose.

"Alright, sunshine, I'll see you later, okay?"

"Okay," you glowed. "G'night, Stevie." You waited for him to respond with a "goodnight" of his own before returning the phone back to its base, already pining for your boyfriend's presence again. Though you poked fun at it, what Steve said about you not being "home" wasn't just him being sappy. You were feeling the same way.

No matter where you were, whether it was school, work, the arcade, shit, you could be in the Upside Down, but as long as Steve was there, you felt at home. It made you reflect on the times where you'd be lying in bed, unable to slip into a slumber as you couldn't shake the feeling of wanting to go home, though geographically, that's exactly where you were. It was because you missed Steve. And any place where he was absent, was no home of yours.

Sauntering back into your bedroom and kicking away garments to clear a path, you cocooned your body into the blanket that was now stained with the scent of your burning candle, and continued from where you left off in your book. You figured you'd make some decent progress to hopefully avoid another late fee at the library.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

It'd been forty minutes later, give or take, when you stood on sore legs, cleansing and moisturizing your face before calling it a night. Your dull eyes wore dark and heavy circles like a hideous skirt, a clear manifestation of the fatigue you were weathering. You rubbed at them unkindly with the hopes of looking even a little more lively, but to no avail.

The bulb of the bathroom went out like a flame once you flicked the switch off, and you abandoned the journey back to your room at the sound of a series of knocks to the front door. Clasping the opening of your robe with shaky hands, you wondered who could be here at this hour. You weren't expecting any visitors. Approaching the door with hushed footsteps, a miniscule view of none other than Steve Harrington could be seen through the peephole of your door.

The tension in your shoulders dissipated, ribs doing their best to cage your fluttering heart. You squealed, fingers fumbling with the lock and you could swear the metal thing had something against you, the way it stalled to unlatch. Steve smiled from the other side of the door as he watched the knob twist and jangle, warmed to know that you were just as eager to see him as he was to see you.

The brown lettering that labeled the white entryway '2F' swung out of view and Steve made eye contact with you for a split second before stumbling back a bit when you threw yourself into him.

Elevating yourself with the tips of your toes to reach him, you trapped his neck between your arms as he returned your hug with one arm, the other remaining properly tucked behind his back. "Hello to you too," he laughed breathlessly before briefly stamping a kiss to your shoulder.

"What're you doing here?" you buzzed, pressing little pecks to as much of his dotted skin as you could. You were suddenly a ball of energy. Finally at home. "When you said later, I thought you meant, like, tomorrow or something."

"Well, I missed you," a kiss to the corner of your mouth, "Wanted to come see ya."

The smile he wore carved thin lines into his cheeks as he spoke, walking your tangled bodies back into the quietude of your apartment. He stopped at your cutesy welcome mat, kicking his shoes off before revealing his arm that held a bouquet of just about the prettiest flowers you'd ever seen.

"Steve," you pouted, releasing your hold on his shoulders, "they're gorgeous." Cradling the peach hued roses dressed in a newspaper-style wrapping paper, your eyebrows scrunched together as you reminded yourself of the time. "What florist is open at 10 p.m.?"

The boy chuckled, locking the door behind him. The plaid pajama pants he wore swung loosely on his legs as he approached you. "There isn't," he ran fingers through his disheveled hair that was long overdue for a trim, "I saw them while I was out with the kids and I thought of you, so I got 'em." He shrugged like it was nothing.

"I was gonna surprise you with them at work tomorrow, but I figured I'd just give 'em to you now, ya' know, all things considered."

Heat rushed to your chest and face as you ogled him, filled with an overwhelming sense of luck to be his. Your feelings toward him felt so immense that at times, you could barely articulate yourself. Words of love and adoration raced through your mind a million miles a second yet you always found yourself terribly speechless.

Steve was so open with his affection for you. It’s a love people pray to experience at least once in their lifetime. And what a heaven-sent gift it was to earn that kind of love from Steve.

These would look perfect by the living room, you thought, turning to the kitchen to retrieve a vase after slipping him a fleeting kiss.

Scouring the white cabinets, you almost failed to remember that you didn't particularly own a vase, given the fact that you'd never actually received flowers before. The realization dejected you a bit.

Steve trailed behind you mindlessly, a frown weighing on his lips as he watched your shoulders droop. Leaning against the space on the counter next to you, he slid down a little, leveling with you, "What's wrong, honey?"

A mumbled, "I've never gotten flowers before," left a pang in his chest, your eyes never leaving the shelves of your cluttered cupboard. "Never needed a vase before."

It was now Steve's turn to slump his shoulders while he gazed at you with sad eyes. How could someone so lovely, so divine as you, not be treated the way you deserved? He would buy you flowers every day if you wanted and he had to bite his tongue when he almost cursed himself for not doing it already. But it's okay. He was here now.

Luring your waist into his body with those burly hands of his, he spoke with assurance laced in his voice, "Well, that's okay," he cooed. "Here, use one of these for now," he pulled a mug that you would've otherwise had trouble reaching, as it sat on the very top shelf, "and tomorrow we'll pick out a nice pretty vase for ya'."

Filling the black cup with water, he planted the roses down as neatly as he could. The flowers sat in the mug awkwardly, all splayed out with the stems way too long for your liking. But somehow, it still managed to be nothing short of perfect. "Cute, a little weird," you shrugged, a smile teasing your mouth, "but cute."

Steve chuckled lowly, situating himself between your legs once you sat on the surface of the tile countertop. "That's funny."

"What is?"

"I said the same about you when I first met you," he laughed, unable to contain his smile before getting the joke out. The face you made didn't help. "Shut up, Harrington," you jab at his shoulder softly, cracking a smile of your own.

Though there was a newfound romance, the typical banter that was mutually exchanged wasn't going anywhere. You were glad that nothing changed between you when you started dating.

Toying with the drawstrings on Steve's Gap hoodie, you began zoning out, the thought of going to bed while cuddled up with your boyfriend, sounding all too alluring. Looking up at him, he was already intently staring at you with painfully adoring eyes and you couldn't help but melt under his heated gaze. "Hi," you muttered, shyness clouding you.

"Hi, sunshine," he smiled, adjusting the collar of your robe with careful fingers. "I'm sorry your day sucked."

"It doesn't, anymore," you replied, sincerely. Steve's eyes lit up at that. It wasn't a secret to anyone that his presence alone seemed to be the antidote for some of your worst days. You'd even admitted it yourself, once or twice. But it never failed to ignite the nerves in Steve's body with fervor.

Although you were completely honest that your mood had gone up about ten octaves since he'd been there, Steve didn't want to just be there. He wanted to do more. It was what you deserved.

"You up for a little adventure?"

"Depends," you squinted. "What kinda adventure are we talking about?" He shifted his weight onto his other leg as his eyes veered off to the ceiling, thinking.

Steve happened to have a few tricks up his sleeve.

"There's somewhere I wanna take you," he drummed a rhythmless beat on your thigh with his fingers. The sneaky expression on Steve's face told you everything you needed to know. He was up to no good. As much as you wanted to go on a late night escapade with your boyfriend, you had to be somewhat, even a little, responsible.

"Steve, it's late and we both have work in the morning," you huffed, losing your grip on the strings you'd been distracting yourself with.

Steve playfully rolled his eyes, flinging his body out of your clutches dramatically. He was going to get you to cave. Whether you already knew it or not. "Alright, grandma, I promise to have you back home at a reasonable hour. Deal?"

The internal battle on whether you should stay or go was evident in your features, though, realistically you had already come to the conclusion that you'd humor him. The "grandma" bit is what really did it for you.

"This is a dumb idea."

"I'll be waiting by the car," he smiled an accomplished smile before leaving the kitchen. Letting out another sharp exhale, you hauled your body off the counter and headed towards your bedroom, discerning that a robe probably wasn't the dress code for wherever it was Steve was taking you.

Concealing your underlying tank top with a hoodie almost similar to Steve's, you threw on some sneakers before snuffing out the diminishing candle. Giving your appearance a once-over in the mirror, you wondered what you'd just gotten yourself into. Though any time with Steve was time well spent, you couldn't help but to look at your bed longingly as you shut off the lights to your apartment, meeting Steve outside.

He stood by the passenger side of the car, fiddling with a loose thread by the end of his sleeve. The fall season brought a night frigid breeze that blew his hair over his eyes like a curtain, making him pout. You hugged your body as you neared him, brushing his brown tresses from his face, though the wind reversed your efforts in no time.

He pressed a kiss to your palm as he became a puddle under your touch, appreciating the way your toasty hand felt against his icy skin. Steve took his own turn rubbing at your arms when he saw you visibly shiver, teeth nearly chattering. "You wanna tell me where we're goin'?" Misty clouds left short-lived trails in the air between the two of you when you spoke.

"Now where's the fun in spoiling the surprise now?" He opened the car door to punctuate his sentence, gesturing you inside. You could only rebut with a roll of your eyes as you entered, though you and Steve both knew you were loving every bit of this. It warmed your heart knowing he was so keen on saving your day from the horror it started it out to be.

Digging through the glove compartment, you sifted through old receipts and other rubbish that really needed to be thrown away, searching for the mixtape you and Steve made for little times like these. Moments that may now seem small, but would soon become memories that you'd cherish for years to come. It served as a little time capsule; hearing the songs you two carefully picked, easily transporting you to these times even when you'd become gray and old.

As Steve began driving off, your fingers found the sneaky cassette that was scribbled with yours and Steve's initials along with doodles of suns, to represent you, and poorly drawn anchors in honor of Steve's Scoop Ahoy era, to represent him.

Regardless of Steve's slight disdain for that period of time, it was one of your favorites and obviously that was due to the fact that the uniform he wore, showed off his legs in the best way possible. It was the perfect eye candy that summer.

The low sound of Bob Marley singing Could You Be Loved floated through the quietness of the car, easing away any tension within you that might've still been trapped. You admired the way the town was so still. The time was hardly 11 p.m., yet there wasn't a soul to be seen; only lonely litter that drifted through the breeze, aimlessly. It was a stark difference from just a few hours ago when you had to dodge shoulders as you cut through the crowded streets on your way home.

The sky was dark and empty apart from the glowing crescent moon that seemed to be chasing you as you drove. It was the only light source you had aside from the street lights that lined the sidewalks. You started counting them and even got to as far as nineteen, but soon lost count once Steve picked up his speed a bit.

Your eyelids threatened to close as the calming drive coupled with the music, fought to lull you to sleep. But instead, bright neon lights stung your sensitive eyes that grew accustomed to the darkness. Squinting, you read the colorful sign labeled "Darling's Diner", and nostalgia strikes you. It had been years. Too many years since you and Steve had been here last.

"Holy shit," you glimmered, hurriedly unbuckling your seatbelt. Steve's hand that found comfort on your thigh during the ride gave it a squeeze before he put the car in park, rushing over to open your car door. He took your hand in his, adoring the way your stunned face gleamed under the glow of the pink and blue neon bulbs. "Surprise," he cheered in a low tone, lightly bumping his shoulder against yours.

The smile you had burned your cheeks but the elation you felt made it all too easy to ignore. The feeling you got whenever you came to Darling's was something indescribable. There were countless fond memories attached to this place and it left you all soft and gooey inside to know that Steve planned on making more with you here. Instinctively, you practically dragged Steve behind you as you rushed inside, the homey scent of burgers, fries, and shakes wafting to your nose.

The floors were still the black and white checkered tiles you remembered them to be; stained with drops of grease and sprinkled with deserted fries. Walls were not much neater, though they were messy with posters and vinyl records instead.

"Want the usual?" Your nod was immediate and shortly after, Steve approached the busy woman impatiently pressing buttons on the register. Wisps of hair fell out of her ponytail and clung onto the film of sweat developing across her forehead. She visibly shrunk into herself as she heard the bell above the door ring, signaling new customers. It was a much busier night than usual.

Regardless of the surge of patrons, the booth you and Steve usually sat in once upon a time, wasn't occupied. The wears and tears corroding the red leather almost served as a name tag, assigning the seat for you two. It was impossible to forget the days Steve came here with you after school, carelessly doing homework while listening to whatever song played on the jukebox.

The table was tidy apart from laminated menus and coloring sheets scattered across the surface. You smirked thinking of the times you and Steve swore you could be the next Picassos, the way you took those things so seriously. As if they'd be hung in museums, you did your best to color them, but not without the added challenge of switching papers with Steve every few minutes. A fun little game you played.

Colored pencils sat by the condiments and you made yourself busy adding hue to the Back to the Future poster, sliding Steve a sheet with some random sports car you didn't know the name of, when he made his way over. He traded you with a cup of hot cocoa with jumbo marshmallows that threatened to abandon ship. "Thanks, Stevie."

"Anytime," he smiled, biting at the cherry that was kissed with a touch of the whipped cream that sat atop of his strawberry milkshake. His long legs brushed against yours as he sat next to you, knees finding mutual rest against each other.

A waitress on pink roller skates offered a kind smile as she brought over a basket of fries that Steve and you snacked on while you chatted and giggled, coloring your own and each other's papers as time seemingly flew by.

"How long has it been since we've last been here?"

"I couldn't tell you. Anything before senior year is such a blur," you responded, adding finishing touches to Steve's car before taking the last sip of your now barely hot, hot chocolate. "I'm just sad we stopped coming here."

"Me too," he swung an arm around your shoulder, pulling you in for an apologetic kiss to your temple. "But I promise to bring you a little more often. It was our spot when we were kids and it'll be our spot now."

You looked at him with bright eyes while hugging his torso, despite the awkward position. Trying to understand what you did to deserve someone like Steve was a dead mission, as you could never fully wrap your head around it. How does one try to understand why they've gotten so lucky?

He kissed away the marshmallow mustache idling on your upper lip before tapping your leg twice, "C'mon, we've got one more stop to make."

The spot he sat in was quickly losing its fever as he stood, holding a hand out for you to take, but you just stared at him with a face that was an odd marriage of scolding and amusement. "Steve," you warned.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, you can yell at me about it later. But I promise you'll love it." Waving his hand to urge yours into his, you accepted it with little hesitation at his grin. You wished the woman at the front a good night as you left the bistro, while Steve dropped a tip in the jar next to her.

He didn't let your hand go until you were sat in the passenger seat, subsequently getting behind the steering wheel, inserting the key in the ignition. You could tell Steve was tired too, the way he full-body stretched as he yawned, rubbing at his eyes that were getting a bit red from fatigue. He wanted to go to bed and cuddle and forget about the world just as much as you did. So why were you still out there?

"What's all this for, Harrington?"

He answered your question with another one of his own, "What's all of what for?"

"Tonight. Everything. The flowers, the diner, and now something else. I'm really grateful for it, don't get me wrong," you warmed his hand when you held it, "but why so much?"

Steve shrugged, averting his gaze to the gear shift sitting between you two. He softly rubbed at your knuckles while he gathered his thoughts.

"Well, you told me that you had a shit day. Just wanted to change that. I like when you're happy."

Your throat felt like it was closing in on itself and your chest stung when tears pricked at your eyes. Steve looked back at you affectionately, the voice of his eyes telling you just how much he cared for you. It made your heart so full. It was too much to handle sometimes.

"I like when you're happy too, Stevie," you beamed, blinking away the pool by your bottom eyelashes. Cupping his cheek, you pushed your plump lips against his that were a little chapped, though you didn't seem to mind at all. Reluctantly, you pull away and Steve doesn't think it was nearly long enough as he sneaks in a few extra pecks.

The drive to wherever on Earth it was that Steve was taking you, was much different compared to the one prior. It almost didn't look like Hawkins. For the past couple miles, Steve's burgundy BMW had been the only car on the road. The trees were taller, a darker green and stronger in numbers than the ones you were used to. The street lamps were less abundant and dimmer than usual, and the animal crossing signs told you that you were more than just a little ways from home.

You had almost said something until Steve pulled off to the side, parking the car on an empty hill just off the road that overlooked Hawkins and the neighboring city. It looked so small from here. Steve smirked at the puzzled expression you threw his way as you removed your seatbelt.

"Before you ask, just come outside. There's something I wanna show you."

You didn't bother waiting for Steve to open the door for you, as you stepped out, attempting to conjure up what he could possibly be wanting to show you out here. There was nothing to be seen but dirt and fallen leaves and branches. "What exactly am I supposed to be looking at?"

"Look up," he responded, leaning against the hood of the car.

Your furrowed eyebrows relaxed as a gasp fell from your lips at the sight of the cloudless sky, lighting up with numerous twinkling stars, an image you could only dream of seeing for yourself since you were a little girl. The mighty city that sat so close to Hawkins fostered light pollution that made it nearly impossible to see the stars at night. If you were lucky, you were only able to make out about one or two, though you weren't sure if they had been stars or planets, instead. Either way, it ignited your soul to be able to see such a bright and beautiful piece of the universe, making you feel so small in the best way possible.

That didn't nearly amount to this very moment though, where there were more stars that you could count, sitting so prettily in the midnight sky.

Mouth still agape, you utter, "Steve, it's beautiful," and other than that, you were rendered speechless. You couldn't dare to tear your eyes from it, worried that if you did, it would all disappear, proving to be a mere hallucination from your tiredness. Steve adored the way you stared at the heavens, noticing the way it was the same way you looked at him. All he could see was a clear reflection of the stars in your eyes, and it perfectly spoke to the way he felt about you.

He saw everything when he looked at you. The sun, the moon, the stars, the universe, even the galaxy. His past, his present, his future. All of it. To him, you encompassed everything beautiful and divine. He was convinced you were too good for this planet. Too extraordinary. How did he get so lucky?

"Look," you pointed at two stars that sat close to one another, shining impossibly brighter than the others, "do you think that's us in another universe?"

Steve smiled at your question, cherishing how whimsical you could be sometimes. Your voice was soft and full of wonder and he couldn't be more content in this moment. "Yeah," he nodded at you, "I'm yours in every universe, sunshine." He kissed the back of your hand, holding your intertwined hands against his chest.

"Y'know I was thinking to myself the other day about how weird relationships are," he stated, looking down at his feet. You peeled your eyes away from the sky, gazing at your boyfriend for the first time since you stepped out of the car. "Weird, how?"

"I don't know, like how you randomly meet someone and get to know them really well and one day just decide, 'I like this human. I'm gonna spend all my time with them and take care of them.' Maybe weird isn't the word, but it's definitely interesting," he rambled, talking with his hands, even the one that was still laced through yours.

You nodded along, understanding where he was coming from. It was something you'd thought about yourself. He continued, "Like, I look at us and how far we've come and it scares me a little 'cause I see how my parents are now. They were best friends before they got married and now I can count on only one hand the amount of times I've seen them hug or kiss. Freaks me out."

This was one of the few times Steve spilled what was weighing on his mind. You could always tell when something bothered him and though he'd give you bits and pieces when you asked what was wrong, it was never anything as nuanced as this. It made you proud to see him develop so much.

"We're not them, Steve. It's like you said, I'm yours in every universe. Maybe they aren't each others every universe," you sighed, "We won't end up like them, I promise"

You always knew how to reassure him. It was one of the things Steve loved so much about you; your way with words. Nothing sort of a poet, he thought. He engulfed your face with his palms, kissing you with every ounce of passion he had.

Lowly in the background, you could hear the song Just the Two of Us by Grover Washington, as the mixtape was still playing in his car. "It's our song," you smiled against his lips when you pulled away. You took his hands from your face, grasping them when you asked him, "Dance with me?"

He nodded, holding your body against his as your head fell against his chest, looking down at the sleeping town that felt so far away. You swayed back and forth, finding comfort in the near silence, listening to the rhythmic beating of Steve's heart. "Thank you for this, Steve," you whispered. "I'm lucky to be yours."

"Even if you weren't, I'd still do it for you," he admitted, running hand across your back, tenderly.

The little sentence made you think. Steve has been in your life for well over a decade now and he never failed to be there for you even when you didn't know how to ask for it. He was the one who took care of you whenever you found it a little difficult to take care of yourself. The one who never dared to leave your side.

You and Steve were in love even before you were. You'd been celestial even before this.

"I love you, sunshine," he murmured, head resting on top of yours.

"I love you back, Stevie."

💌 1 new message from jojo: pls pls pls comment/reblog (or both teehee) if you enjoyed, it means a lot! inbox is open!

#steve harrington #steve and sunshine #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x black!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x poc!reader #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #steve harrington headcanon #soft!steve harrington #joe keery #stranger things

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puck-luck · 6 months ago

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this is a very unserious ask i’m sorry but.. can we get a smut piece with quinn hughes where the girl says “doggy style means i get a treat after, right?” 😭

this is so fucking funny. this is SO fucking funny. warning: one sentence of this delves into pet play which i am nottttttt into but it's such a good pun/reference that i had to do it.

you'd been teasing quinn for hours, acting bratty during dinner and snapping at him when he tried to join you in the shower first thing in the morning. at first, he was confused and he thought he had done something wrong. he caught on, though, when you started smirking after every bratty comment and action.

"that's it," quinn barks, throwing his napkin down on the table. "bed, now."

a smile spread over your face, excited that you've brought quinn to his limit and he's going to take it out on you the exact way you planned.

"oh, honey, i wouldn't smile if i were you," quinn threatens. he chuckles, devoid of amusement. "you've been such a brat all day and i'm going to fuck it out of you."

"mmm," you hum, wiggling your eyebrows. "how do you want me?"

"all fours," quinn replies, no room in his voice for complaints.

still, you find something to say. "quinny, that's a terrible choice." you giggle when his nostrils flare, but finish your statement before he can snap. "doggy style means i get a treat after, right? i thought you were punishing me."

quinn can't hold back his smile, but he tilts his head down so it's overtaken by his glare. "you're gonna get my cock, baby. that's the treat. the punishment is that you're going to have my cock until you're begging me to take it out, until you're whining because you just can't give me another."

your breath hitches.

"but i'm not going to stop until you use your word, isn't that right? the brat needs to be tamed, and i know you can handle it."

you feel a bit like a fish, just gulping and trying to form words with nothing coming out.

"and it's not quinny, is it? that's not who i am right now. that's not who you've been testing all day." quinn stands from the table and walks over to your seat, tilting your head up until your eyes meet his. "you need to be a good girl for daddy, or you won't even get a treat at all. how's that, pet?"

you find yourself nodding, eyes glassy already. the kitchen light glows behind his head, forming a halo around his hair.

quinn taps your temple. "go on. why aren't you moving? i told you to go to the bedroom." he laughs. "i haven't even touched you, baby, and you're already fucked stupid?"

hiiii dom quinn where did YOU come from

#andy writes anything🍄#andy's asks🥤#qh43 #quinn hughes smut #qh blurb

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rogueddie · 9 months ago

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Sweet Nothings T | 545 words Prompt for @steddielovemonth: Love is wanting to do everything with someone, even if it's nothing special

Eddie has his keys in hand, holding his jacket with his teeth as he gets ready to leave, when someone knocks on the door.

"Hiya, Ed," Steve greets with a grin, that quickly falters. "Oh, sorry, is it a bad time?"

"Sorta? You're not interrupting anything important."

"But you have other plans. No worries, I'll- uh... what are you going out for?"

"Need a part for the van. Was gonna head up to the scrap yard, see if I could find anything there."

"Oh, cool. I could help, if you want?"

"You sure? It's pretty boring."

"Nah, it'll be fun! C'mon, tell me what you need."

Steve steps back, waving Eddie over to his car.

"You sure you want us to go in your car? Some of the shit we're grabbing is gonna be dirty."

"So I'll clean it? Come on, I'm excited now."

"Excited to go digging through a scrap yard?"

"With you? Yeah." He walks back over, gently pushing Eddie towards his car. "We can make it fun! And I know Henderson has been on your ass as much as he has been on mine about us finally hanging out."

"You're just bored with nothing else to do, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I am. But, hey, two birds with one stone!"

Eddie sighs, finally stepping to the passenger door, rolling his eyes. "Fine, whatever, let's go."

Steve whoops, doing a little fistpump, before rushing to the car when Eddie raises an eyebrow at him.

He keeps up conversation the entire drive and Eddie quickly realises that Steve... he genuinely loves cars. He doesn't know a lot about how they work and, knowing now that Eddie does, he has a lot of questions.

Eddie is happy to answer them.

At the scrapyard, they end up distracted almost immediately. Eddie ends up spending most of the time showing Steve how engines work.

Thanks to the visual and practical aid, Steve learns fast. It only takes him two attempts and a lot of running around, tearing other shit apart, to get one of the abandoned, broken engines to roar to life.

It sputters out as soon as it starts, but it does start.

"This stuff is so cool!" Steve says, bouncing on the balls of his feet, as they finally head back to the car.

Thanks to how much destruction they'd thoroughly caused, finding the little replacement part that Eddie needed hadn't taken long.

"Yeah, surprisingly so."

"Aww," Steve coos, teasingly. "But are you saying that because you mean it or because you love me?"

"It can't be both?"

"That- oh, haha."

"Didn't even mean to make that pun. I'm just that funny, huh."

"No, your jokes are terrible."

"Steve, hey," Eddie stops, faking a serious tone. "You can't say things like that about your boyfriend, it's not nice."

"What are you, the love police?"

"Yes. Put your hands up, you're under arrest."

Steve sticks his tongue out at him, before sprinting off to the car.

Eddie is hot on his heels, struggling to keep himself from laughing as he yells after him, unable to bite back the grin.

He can't help but wonder how he'll ever manage to come back to the scrapyard without Steve.

Nothing is ever as fun as it is when they're together.

#strsnger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #ficlet #nav.slm

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koishiro · 1 year ago

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𝑬𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍 | 방탄소년단 📍

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : Jungkook just wants to take care of you and if that means he needs to join you in the bath then so be it

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 : Jungkook x fem!reader

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 : fluff/smut

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 : Jungkook has a kink for dom reader, penetration, unprotected sex, cumming inside

=͟͟͞͞ ⌧ 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒍 : reader’s nickname is cat because I had too many puns to use im sorry- (it’s explained I promise :’))

main masterlist | kpop masterlist | upcoming anon asks

"Baths ready" I heard echo out of the bathroom.

"Thank you" I mumbled, getting up from the bed, slower this time.

The bath was aromatic, full of bubbles and looked so peaceful. I leaned against the door frame closing my eyes.

"Cat, are you going to be ok in there?" He questioned softly.

"I'm fine" I snapped back to reality. I was aware of my stubborn determination to be self sufficient, especially after having a panic attack.

"It's okay to need help" Again the soft tone of his voice irked at my independence.

"I'm fully capable of having a bath, what are you going to do? join me? It's ok, I've got this" I said trying and failing to unzip the back of my dress.

"If that's what it takes to know you’re okay? Then yes” If I hadn't just burnt out all my brains reserves of adrenalin having a panic attack, I'm positive my mind would have been running a thousand miles an hour, but for the first time in a long time, it wasn't. I was entirely focused on the basic things - like how relaxing the bath looked and how good it would feel to wash my face and hair. I still had some wits about me, as romantic as the concept of having a bath together was, and despite how my body was reacting to the idea, I wasn't necessarily in the right headspace for anything intimate; I tried to make that thought process clear.

"It can't be anything. But, yeah, I'd appreciate the company. I don't really want to be alone right now" I offered honestly, "but you can't look”

"I know" He sighed, "Not like this, this is not how I ever imagined it Y/n, I sincerely just want to make sure you're okay”

"Not like this...?" I repeated what he said. My brain and heart took a double take as I stared up at him. He'd thought about it, he'd thought about us. "Okay, I'm not looking” He turned around, embarrassed.

I slipped out of my clothes and slowly hopped into the bath. It was gigantic, so full of bubbles. The water sitting almost at my shoulders, I was able to easily sit sideways with my knees up to my chest.

"Okay, you can look”

"Aw you look so small” he noted, sitting next to the bath.

"I thought you were going to join me?"

"Ah, it's okay, I'll just keep you company, I really want to let you have space” He reached and scooped up a handful of bubbles, placing them on my head "Cat in a hat”

I took a hand full of bubbles and blew into it, spraying him with them, he laughed and sighed.

I turned to lie and stretch out in the bath, considering I had it all to myself, I thought it best to make the most of it. He leaned against the tub and played videos on his phone to keep us both amused, occasionally splashing me.

"You know you actually need to wash yourself in the bath?" he joked.

My eyes fluttered open and shut again, "’m just so tired, you said to relax" I twisted his words to fit my agenda.

"Come on, wake up!" he splashed my face.

"No, you wake up” I lazily splashed him back.

"We can't hide in here all day" Splash.

"You can't hide in here all day," I splashed him again "This is my home now”

"I thought Cats hated water” Splash.

"It's a myth, I'm a purrmaid now" I stretched out, enjoying my terrible pun and attempting to ignore the barrage of water attacks.

He splashed me just for the bad joke, he sat there looking a little angry and wet "That's it! Cat-tatonic, you can't stay in there forever” he got up and left the room.

"I can and I will!" I yelled after him.

I didn't feel bad about it at all. I lied back again, closing my eyes and enjoying the peace, trying desperately not to accidentally fall asleep.

He sauntered back a few minutes later wearing a towel. With all the photos and videos he'd sent me over the years I'd never actually seen him shirtless. I drank it in for a minute, his shoulders and arms were my favourite part, muscular with one full sleeve of tattoos.

"Hey, hey, hey, no looking” he laughed and I covered my face with my hands, clearly still looking. "Cat, this is kind of nerve wrecking, please?"

"Okay, okay, okay, just saying, I don't understand why. You’re hot so” I turned away from him, this was difficult, I could have stared for decades, etching his physique into my mind like stone.

"Now schooch over," he demanded, "If you're never getting out, I'm getting in”

I moved forward in the bath and he stepped in, sitting behind me, making the water rise and splash a little over the edge.

"OK, you were right, this is pretty relaxing. Well, pretty and relaxing”

I looked back and smiled at him, he always got to me with his sneaky compliments.

"Alright now, come here" he said, I backed up little so I was sitting between his legs but not fully against him, I felt a sudden cold on my head.

"What are you...?"

He was washing my hair, I was confused but okay with it.

"Since you're determined to just sit and do nothing, we'll be here for ever, so I'll do it” He started to massage the shampoo into my hair, It was a nice feeling, I'd only had hair dressers ever do this and it wasn't like they actually got in a bath with you. It felt so intimate and caring, his hands massaging my tired head. I was close to melting down the drain with the water at that point, I was so at peace. I certainly didn't expect him to randomly blast the conditioner out with the shower head set to cold.

I screamed and turned awkwardly in his lap "You bastard!"

He was just smiling that dumb fucking smile that he always used to get away with anything. I put my knees on his legs to gain purchase and grabbed his throat lightly. I suddenly noticed he was looking down, not at my face. In my attempt to be threatening, I was giving him a full view of my breasts, nipples perky as the cold water dripped down my body. Something about the way I'd grabbed him dominantly stirred something inside me, something I didn't know was there.

"If this is how I die I'm 100% fine with it" he gleamed.

"Ah, you pervert" I teased, dropping back down into the water and turning my back to him quickly. Deflecting my own thoughts yet still sitting between his legs again, choosing to be closer this time.

"hey, I did nothing”

"Sure”

He got a loofa and started scrubbing my back gently

"This is kinda weird right?" I said thinking aloud, my brain starting to work again.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"Not at all, but I mean, we've sorta just met”

"We've been friends for eight years" He said defensively.

"Online though" I reminded him. "So have you bathed Taehyung?" I was referring to one of our mutual male friends.

"No, but he's never refused to get out of a bathtub before, I guess this is a new one” he laughed, "Arm up”

I raised my arm, he glided the loofa up and down, washing it, then proceeded down the side of my body, grazing my breast and hip.

"Other one”

Same thing again, one of his hands had snaked its way to resting on my waist, I wasn't sure why it was so intensely comfortable but also so present in my mind. All the physical touch in such a gentle caring manner was turning me on a lot more then I expected.

"Do you want to do the rest? Or do you want me to?" He questioned, it had become apparent the next parts would be very intimate. I slid back against him so my back was on his chest.

"Is it weird I'm enjoying this? this is so relaxing and..." I paused, changing my thought pattern "I can do it if you don't want to?"

"Not weird at all, I just don't want to make you uncomfortable. I'm so glad you’re feeling better" he pulled my waist towards him so I was fully pressed against him for a hug. He body felt good against mine, his arms felt strong wrapped around me. The bubbles, the water, all adding an extra layer of sensation. I knew he was being kind but it was impossible to not notice that he was absolutely turned on, I could feel him so hard against my back.

"Seems like your feeling pretty good yourself" I giggled.

"Hey, I really can't help it, it doesn't have to mean anything. I just, can't..." he paused for a moment to collect his words "I cant control what my body feels with you naked. Just ignore it, I promised I wouldn't do anything but help you”

"I think I understand the feeling” I sighed quietly to myself.

"Hmm?"

"Nothing... you missed a spot" I said handing him the loofa again.

He slowly washed my shoulders and collar bone, then skipped to my waist and stomach, he started mirroring what he was doing with his hand on one side, loofa in the other and occasionally swapping. It was slow and sensual, it felt like he was exploring my body. At a leisurely pace he moved to my legs and thighs, stopping just short of anything too intimate. I knew it wasn't intentional, but it felt like teasing and it was driving me wild, I could tell how wet I was even in the water. I was aware of my pulse in my pussy as he ran his hands up my inner thighs. I could feel his cock getting even harder, I wasn't sure that was possible when I had first lied back against him.

He moved his hands up to my breasts, finally. I wiggled my ass, just a little, back into him. I was testing the waters, feeling his cock twitch against me, his breathing got heavier and faster. He slowly caressed my breasts, at first appearing to wash them but after a minute had past and his hands still lingered, I was sure he was just enjoying them.

"I don't mind at all" I said, wanting to give him some confirmation that I was enjoying the attention to detail, I leant my head back against his chest and closed my eyes to enjoy the sensation. He let the loofa go and slid his hands around, slowly squeezing and massaging my chest. Letting his fingers glide over my nipples, which were getting harder at his touch. He intermittently pinched each one, I moaned a little, not intending to, but rather unable to controll it. His hands started to take turns at exploring more of my body.

"You're really beautiful and soft, you feel amazing" he sighed in my ear.

In a lot of ways I wanted it to stop but I also couldn't seem to say no. I was so heavily conflicted between my attraction and fear of the level of intensity. I'd always been scared of Jungkook in that way, I always felt like I'd die of thirst without his attention, but I also felt like I'd drown in the emotion attached to it. He had, and probably always would be 'The one', as stupid as that sounded. He wasn't the guy I imagined fucking without strings attached, he was so much more to me. He came with the dream of the life after, the simple life; full of laughter and light. We'd spent eight years talking online everyday, never tiring, never losing interest. He even kept calling me Cat, part of my online tag, after telling him my name years later. He was always a passing ship in the night, one of us always in a relationship, the unobtainable and that felt so safe. However, right now, we were both alone, together. Everything about him felt so right, his hands on my body, his presence, the way we fit together so well, just lying on him watching TV or even now, in the bath, it just felt so much like I was a part of him and he was a part of me.

I tensed up and he felt it, he stopped touching me instantly.

"Y/n, are you ok?" He didn't say Cat, he used my actual name not the nickname he always called me.

"I just..." I turned in the water, sitting up and slipping my legs over his to face him, "Can we do this?"

"Only if you want to?" He looked at me puzzled.

"I mean, with you? can it be casual? Isn't it always going to be more?"

"Cat, it can mean whatever you want it to, or I can stop right now if you want and I'll go get dressed. You know how I've always felt about you, but also, I respect you. It can just be fun, if that's all you want at the moment. I've never been able to do this kind of thing without the connection, but I already have that with you and nothing will ruin that. All I can think in this moment is that fucking you would feel right, for once Cat, don't overthink”

I stared at him intensely. Was he just saying what I wanted to hear? Am I going to hurt him? am I going to hurt us? This is the type of thing that's going to invoke a few days worth of reckless behaviour from me and I was well aware of my patterns.

"I really want to," I admitted "my body is screaming at me to, but, I don't want to hurt you” I was watching his face intently for any sign that this could be wrong.

"I rather be hurt 1000 times than never feel you," he put his hands back on my hips starting to pull me down onto his lap. "I need to know what it feels like to be inside you, I need to watch your perfect body bounce, I need to see your face as you feel me inch by inch, I don't care about myself right now. I need to know what it feels like to make you cum”

Fuck, he knew how to talk when he wanted to. He knew what was in my head and he knew how I felt. He also knew I wasn't going to back down now. I hated that he knew me. I couldn't help myself, I managed to lie to myself in that moment, maybe it could just be fun, maybe it wouldn't have an effect on the dynamic of our friendship.

We'd talked a lot about sex with the distance keeping us safe, some nights spent exchanging fantasies, messages and videos. I knew everything about what he wanted, the magic words that would tip the scales for him, and he knew everything about how my body worked and what I might do. We both knew I was far more experienced, him only having a few sexual partners in the past worried me, but not enough to stop me. The logical part of my brain had shut down. I needed to be the dominant one here, I needed to show him. He could talk smoother then I ever could, but I could use my body.

"Cat we don't have to- " I cut him off and grabbed his throat, I enjoyed that feeling earlier, I wanted to try it again. I pulled myself to him and kissed him deeply, his hand raised to mine in shock but he relented and kissed me back. I kneeled over him and used my other hand to stroke his hard cock under the water. His hands slid across my body, I'm not sure he knew what to do with my sudden assault on his senses. I felt him moan into my kiss as I moved my hand up and down the length of his shaft, taking my time to rub slowly around his head, feeling it twitch in response. I released my grip off his neck and used my hand to move his hands to my ass which was hovering over him, he seemed to follow the motions amazingly. I continued to stroke his cock, surprised that it was larger then I expected.

I climbed further onto him sliding the head of his cock gently up and down, from my entrance to my clit, as I kept up the motion of sliding my hand up and down his shaft. He was starting to put pressure on my hips, begging to get inside me each time I slid up and down on him. The wetness of my cunt so different to the water of the bath. I teased him with each movement as I used his dick as a toy for my own stimulation, I wanted him to force me down onto it, he seemed to yield finally, grabbing my hips properly and pulling me onto him, inch by inch. I'd been turned on for the entire bath, I felt so swollen and as he forced his way in we both gasped, breaking the passionate kiss, locked into inhaling each others breath. By the time he was fully sheathed inside of me I was almost shaking, he fit so well, I wasn't going to last long at all. I kissed him again, biting his lip and wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

I started riding him like my life depended on it, like every groan he made brought me closer to an edge I was ready to fall off a thousand times. I grinded harder against him, wanting to be so full I would never need to be fucked again, and it worked so well, up and down, him enjoying my bubble covered breasts as they bounced in his face. I felt the familiar build up of my orgasm coming on as I rode harder and faster. I gripped him tighter as my pussy clenched around his cock, unable to keep my mouth shut I let out a very audible moan of pleasure, I leant back enjoying the after shocks of my orgasm.

He seemed to be enjoying the expression on my face before he got a serious look, grabbing my hips harder then before and using my body. Jungkook was stronger than I expected, I wasn't doing any of the work anymore, just enjoying feeling him lift me and pull me back down onto him as the water splashed around us and his face started to tense.

I slid my hand back under water to rub my clit, if he was coming, I'd be damned if I wasn't going to come again with him. It wasn't hard for me to get close again, he was so focused, grunting and fucking me hard, I was loving the view, the way his arms and body tensed, the focus on his face, the way he threw his head back, moving me like I weighed nothing, grinding his hips up to mine.

I knew what would get him there, from every fantasy he'd sent me and I knew he'd fucking love it and hate it.

"You have to pull out, I'm not on birth control” I teased at him, he agreed and started going harder then before, I could feel him twitching inside me, I knew I was going to cum when he did. I wrapped my arms around him and started fucking him back again, our hips meeting. He was starting to shake, he stopped suddenly.

"I'm going to cum, I have to stop" He gasped, I knew what we both wanted to hear. I grabbed his throat again and held onto his back as tight as I could, continuing to grind against him as deeply as I could.

"Don't you fucking dare, I'm not letting go, you're going to fill me or we'll never do this again”

Jungkook’s eyes lit up with a touch of fear and excitement as he gave in, finally thrusting back knowing that I needed his seed, it only took a moment and I felt him explode inside me, shooting layer after layer of warm cum into me. My body fucking loved it, exploding into an orgasm that just kept clenching for what felt like minutes around his cock as it pulsed.

I let my grip loosen as I let my head fall against his, having an exhausted giggle, he smiled and laughed with me, wrapping his arms around my body and occasionally thrusting to see my face as we recovered our breath.

"You can't do that or I'm going to need to cum again" I breathed, trying to lift myself off him, he held me down.

"Do it” he whispered with an evil grin, I started to grind on him softly, it wasn't going to take much. He leant me back and watched me, finally using his fingers to rub my clit, as my breasts bounced freely and he met each of my thrusts again, he was watching me so intimately but I couldn't keep my eyes open. It was happening again, I gasped and held his arms tightly as I shuddered with another orgasm. He seemed so pleased with himself, kissing me again softy down my neck.

"You're mine," he whispered, moving my hair from my face.

That surprised me, but more in a way that I enjoyed. We both got out of the bath and wrapped ourselves in towels.

The bathroom was completely flooded, I giggled and bent to pick up my wet clothes. I felt his hand lift my towel at the back as I did, still bent over I looked back at him confused.

"Just admiring my work" he smiled that damn smile again, it always amazed me how confident men got after you fulfilled a fantasy. I moved into a presenting pose and let him enjoy the view of his cum dripping from my pussy for a moment, he slicked his finger up and down my slit.

"hey, no touching unless your prepared to finish the job again”

He kept going, sliding his fingers back and forth over my clit before sliding his fingers inside of me, pushing his dripping cum back in. This man was determined to make sure I couldn't think for a week.

But that's when we heard a knock at the door.

─────────. ♡ .───────────

a/n: I doubt I’m going to make a pt 2… :)

𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

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absolutebl · 5 months ago

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This Week in BL - The Stand-in Stands Up (all puns intended)

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

June 2024 Week 1

Ongoing Series - Thai

My Stand-In (Fri iQIYI) ep 7 of 12 eps - I do enjoy that the other Joe’s past is now coming back to haunt the present. For our Joe, the hits just keep on coming. Meanwhile, I know my heartstrings are being intentionally tugged, but I did feel sorry for Ming in this episode (at the last). And I think Up is doing a great job with this frankly difficult role if he can make me feel anything approaching sympathy for Ming. Ming's breakdown was excellent. Very dramatic.

Wandee Goodday (Sat YT) ep 6 of 12 - These two are entirely boyfriends who just don’t happen to be dating. It’s Schrödinger’s relationship. It's crazy that these two are already sleeping together and I still can’t wait for them to kiss. Very nicely done. Good tension point. This was a really cute episode but nothing much happened.

In other news, the sound effects REALLY bother me in this show. It might have been in the running as a 10/10, except for those fucking sound effects.

We Are (Weds iQIYI) ep 10 of 16 - I like how the majority of this show is just basically struggling with first love. It’s strangely sweet and innocent as a result. Frankly, right now, I need that - it’s comforting. It’s not exciting, but I can’t deny that thi is the highlight of the middle of my week.

Peem to Phum = use your words. Phum = SMOOCH.

Bet you all heard this one coming: NO SINGING.

Note: Satang (Toey) is a fantastic actor. I love the way he changes the physicality of his body for his roles. In this part, he’s kind of loose-limbed and floppy. He doesn't look younger but the way he inhabits his body does.

My Love Mix-Up Th (Fri YT) ep 1 of 12 - GeminiForth (AKA G4) are back and glory-be they showed up on YouTube. Still I’m worried it won’t stay there after the Cherry Magic debacle. So I stayed up late that night to gank it.

Back to the show.

One of the things I’ve always loved about this IP, is how genuine and decent and earnest all of the kids are. They’re all trying so hard not to hurt each other's feelings. It’s all just a terrible case of miscommunication. G4 are perfect casting for these roles. That said, I have the same challenges with this version as I did with the JBL - it’s a bit frenetic and can be clownishly too MUCH for me.

Meanwhile, the he feeds strays trope has popped up again.

Love Sea (Sun iQIYI) ep 1 of 10 - Trash watch here. MAME warning! I found it rather lacklustre and inoffensive but still managed to invent dildo smores.

Knock Knock Boys (Thurs Gaga) eps 3 of 12 - Honestly? I’m kind of enjoying watching the friendships develop between the housemates. Of course I know they’re probably gonna all end up sleeping together, but right now the communal easy-going companionship and teasing is the most fun. Other than that, this is an unremarkable Thai BL pulp with better than normal acting and consistency (for a pulp).

Only Boo! (Sun YT) ep 9 of 12 - Moo is the clinginess boyfriend in the entire universe. The thing I think I love best about this couple, and the show, is what great communicators they are. That said they are not great actors. I don’t mean to be rude, and I don’t expect great acting from my Thai BL, but it’s a little rough going sometimes with this pair.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

At 25:00 in Akasaka AKA 25 Ji Akasaka de (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 8 of 10 - It’s taken me a long time, but I finally realized what I dislike about this show. It’s the pacing. Or rather, the lack of it. And I’m not saying that the pacing is necessarily off, in fact this is a typical JBL thing. But for some reason, in this show, I find it particularly annoying.

Blossom Campus (Korea Thurs Gaga & iQIYI) ep 5-6fin - Honestly, this was a perfectly fine little friends to lovers BL, with better than average kissing from Korea. But for some reason it never really hit for me. The very end was extremely odd. A bit of a disappointment for a longer piece from Strongberry. I think they tried to be too classically BL and that is just not their strength-berry. Strongberry is better when they explore something a little edgy, or a little outside the box. 7/10

It's airing but...

The Last Time (Fri YT?) - Convoluted story of loss and possible reincarnation or something. Can't find it.

OMG Vampire (Thai Sun ???) 10 eps - also I can't find it. Comments from last week suggest this is not my thing anyway, but Lee Long Shi very much IS my thing, so... maybe I'll put it on hold for a bit and y'all can let me know.

In case you missed it

The Time of Fever AKA Unintentional Love Story 2 (Korea movie) trailer released to Korean theaters 5/25. HoTae & DongHee, side couple from Unintentional Love Story are back! Same actors, same character names. I love them. I NEED TO SEE THIS. How?

You Made My Day (Thai YT) - mini series staring the I Will Knock You couple Tar & Bom, started but I couldn't find it. I also didn't try very hard. Apparently it's cute but basically a 10 min advert.

KWill To Reunite With Seo In Guk, Ahn Jae Hyun in Comeback! For those who don't know the MV for his song Please Don't is a heavy hitting shock tactic BL adjacent piece featuring major Korean actors. (The closest we are likely to ever get.) Look it was a BIG DEAL at the time. Kinda like Kpop's Broke Back Mountain moment. More here:

I don't often report on the Kpop scene but this is very interesting.

Next Week Looks Like This:

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

June Releases

6/14 Let's Eat Together Aki and Haru 2 AKA Aki wa Haru to Gohan wo Tabetai 2 Haime! (Japan movie Gaga?) - Continues the (frankly) lackadaisical story from part 1.

6/15 Sunset Vibes AKA SunsetXVibes (Thailand Sat iQIYI) 12 eps - Star Hunter + MosBank on iQIYI for 12 weeks? If nothing else it's gonna be a wild and sexy ride. A one night stand but "uh-oh he’s my boss," adapted from a web series. I’m game. Maybe it’ll have a better story than Big Dragon? Maybe it will have a plot? We can but hope.

6/26 The Rebound (Thai Weds VIU?) - MeenPing are back in their 3rd BL together, a basketball based romance (Meen was a national basketball player, so yay for that). I like this pair better than most (I still do miss Meen with Est but Est has a fantastic looking new BL coming from GMMTV so yeah...) Anyway I'm up for a sports romance starring a man who, yah know, actually played that sport so... I'm game (pun intended).

(Speaking of, why can't Est be a merman? This... I ask you?.)

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

Flipping stellar side couple Wandee, thank you.

Love the mains too of course.

This is that funny little unnamed (muli-named) BL/GL something from Korea that's happening on YouTube right now. It's cute! I guess it's falling under the moniker Fake Buddies.

(Last week)

Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are a pain.

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity

@rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

Sigh, Tumblr in it's infinite wisdom doesn't like too many tags.

There's these tricks, remember.

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helloiamadrawer · 7 months ago

Text

Caine Catching the Reader trying on his Suit + gender neutral reader confesses to having a crush on him❤️

A/n: I thought this would be a cute thing to write during the wait for what's to come so here's some Caine being a clueless bean, so fluff galore!

So you were scanning through your digital wardrobe and tbh you were getting really tired of wearing your same nauseating colors of your circus aesthetic why couldn't you ask him to switch it to something..different? That was when you reached the near end of your closet and saw a familiar metallic red garment of clothing

is that..?

no, no you're just having those so-called "digital hallucinations" but to your surprise you took the hanger out of the closet and lo' and behold, it WAS Caine's suit, your face was stuck in a awestruck expression of how you found it, how could that clueless set of dentures lose his fashionable suit? He would probably just make another one with just a snap of his fingers.

You were about to exit your room to return it until you took a good look at it only to notice it almost looked like it could fit you? Well, you were about to find out by trying it on yourself!

Moments later you slid to your mirror and..it was perfect fit..now this is getting weird how did he know your exact measurements?

But it felt so good to look as fly as he does, after all you can admit you got kind of a thing for him..okay a crush! You just never had the guts to tell him but he's probably already heard. Since he hears all, sees all. You just have been holding it in cause you can never get a moment with him alone cause..adventures and stuff.

Turning to see the back of you, a flash of light blinded your vision, only for your sight to return and see the image of Caine with a digital camera. (pun intended but let's say he has an actual digital camera)

"Ah! Caine! I told you nicely to knock before you come in!" you yelped as you jumped nearly out of your skin.

"Terribly sorry my dear! But I actually came in to check on you, but wow do you look stunning in that suit, it could stop traffic and heck, even me in my tracks!" he says clutching his chest dramatically as he pretends to faint.

your face=red from Caine's compliment "th-thanks i guess, I just found it and--''.

"found it? I added it your wardrobe cause..y'know..I couldn't help but overhear you talking to Ragatha about how you could rock a suit like mine! and boy, you were right!" he chirps as he happily floats over to the back of you, placing his hands on your shoulders, admiring how the tux fitted you, that's when it hit you..

Wait..he what?! Oh god, what else has he heard?? hopefully not your endless pining for him, you would metaphorically die!

As Caine faced the mirror, the both of you almost twinning in your matching suits, then he glances at you, a little puzzled of why your face was ablaze from embarrassment, unless..

"So I guess you heard, right?", you question, rubbing the back of your neck.

"Heard what my dear?" Caine asks confused. Well, there was no backing out now, you had to confess or you could go insane before anything else could in this digital hell. You turned to face the ringmaster and explained, "The reason I said I could wear your clothes, is that I have..a..gah! I like you Caine!"

His upper jaw jumps in surprise at your sudden response. A couple seconds of dead silence,his tone stayed ponderous as usual,"....oh. But I don't seem to understand my--"

''Caine, hear me out, I have an interest in you, you're funny, you have alot of personality, and not to mention stylish even if you do wear the same suit everyday, your voice is like music to me and i would listen to it every day. what I'm trying to say is..I want to go out and get to know you more." you confess, finally getting it off your chest as you desperately stare into his dual colored eyes that are now..sparkling?

The A.I took your hands and interlaced them with his as his voice took a softer tone as he asked,"Do you know how long I was waiting for you to say those very words?"

You started to smile brightly, that's one of his favorite features of you ever since he made that one adventure just for you (it was a ballroom that you two slow danced in *sighs lovingly*). "Too long?"

"I didn't know what was going on, at first I thought it was a missing binary code in my system but I realize what this feeling is now, every time I hear your voice, a single glance, your mere presence is but a blessing to me and I would sacrifice all the time in this digital world for you.." he swept one of his hands to push a section of your hair behind in your ear.

His sweet praises make your heart swell with warmth and only causing it to hammer against your chest halting your breathing pattern as you could feel yourself leaning closer and closer until he had to go back to his bombastic ringleader voice,"Now then! My darling, when would you like that date?"

reader.exe stopped working cause Caine called you darling.

"Wh-what about now?..", you stammer, shuffling your feet, "Since we are dressed..fancy."

"Excellent idea, my darling! although the NPC'S may mistake you for me, this should help!" he snaps his fingers as your tux now became a shiny blue with white leggings. It was always amazing of how powerful the A.I was.

Caine being the gentleman he is, links your arm with his as you two head off to the grounds at night laughing and chatting away..who knew a suit could benefit you in so many ways?

#tadc caine #caine #the amazing digital circus #caine x reader #tadc x reader

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acotarmemes · 4 months ago

Note

Did Buttmunch make it to the Night Court?

YES! He did and VERY SAFELY!

icons by @copypastus

Since it's @cassianappreciationweek, I also wrote a little ficlet of:

The Adventures of Cassian and Buttmunch

Read on AO3, or below the cut.

"Cassian? Cassian, are you listening to me?"

It tickles. Oh, gods, it tickles.

Cassian squirms a little, tilting his head and wrinkling his nose. He's sure Nesta is saying something terribly important and while the sound of her voice is a symphony of sun and skies, it takes all of his self-control to contain himself.

"Yes, of course! I, the best husband in the world, devote my complete attention to my beloved wife."

"What was I saying?" Nesta deadpans, folding her arms across her chest. She drums her fingers across her bicep, patiently waiting for Cassian's excuse.

Before he can say anything productive, he bursts into a fit of giggled, and bites his lip. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I swear I was listning. But if you could repeat yourself, I would love you forever."

"You'll love me forever even if I don't," she counters without missing a beat. Her eyes trail him up and down, watching him squirm, nearly cross his arms over his chest and decide against it. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing."

Her gaze narrows, and she steps closer. Nesta draws her hands back, and strikes hard and fast, tickling his sides. All is lost—completely lost!

Cassian bursts into laughter. "Mercy, mercy!"

"Not until you—Ah!" Nesta's yelp is sudden and pitched as she jumps back. "What's that?"

From the inside of his vest, a tiny baby bluejay pops its head out, using Cassian's chest hair as a tiny little toupee. It chirps at Nesta happily, then wiggles back into the comfort of Cassian's clothes.

"Well, you see, I wanted to ask how you felt about birds?"

"Cassian!"

He knows it isn't very fair to ask Nesta to keep the baby bird when he's already got the baby bird, but he is the General of the Night Court and battles aren't always won with fairness.

***

"What do bluejays eat?"

Azriel's voice is quieter than the little singing bird. He squats by the makeshift nest, watching the hatchling bury itself in scraps of Cassian's old clothing and hair they definitely didn't just pull out. They wanted to swaddle him in Cassian's scent, what else were they supposed to do?

"I dunno."

"Tamlin didn't give you a list?"

"Well, he did, but I lost it."

Azriel pauses, and looks up at Cassian unimpressed. Of course, Cassian would adopt a baby bird and of course, he would decide to wing it. Pun intended. The shadowsinger sighs, and conjures little shadow tendrils to entertain the chick.

"His name?"

"Buttmunch."

A small smile creeps on Azriel's features. The two of them high five in some inside joke no one else is privy too.

"Want to make a bet?"

Cassian tilts his head, his bun following the motion and going lopsided. It's still too early to be stylish. It's just Azriel, anyway. He cocks a scarred brow, already invested in this brewing game. He doesn't win often, but this time, he will. If it's about Buttmunch, nobody knows his baby as well as he does.

"Gather food. Label them. Whoever's food Buttmuch picks wins."

"Okay, what do I win?"

"Your name goes first. Buttmuch, son of Cassian and Azriel. If you win."

"HELL YEAH!"

***

The meeting is running long.

Cassian leans his cheek into his fist, half-lulling himself to sleep. There's only so much court things he can take. He is a man of action, a do-er, not a talker. His only saving grace is the grumpy little bluejay sitting on Rhysand's shoulder. Buttmunch didn't want to get up. Buttmunch also didn't want to left alone in Cassian's room.

He's in a mood, Cassian had told his brother, but Rhysand insisted that his winged-nephew join him.

The hatchling looks especially angry, trembling a little as he—oops.

"Buttmunch the first! Son of Azriel and Cassian!" Cassian yowls between fits of laughter. He gets up and swoops his little birdy with a grin. "I guess that's meeting adjourned? I'll buy you a new suit. Oh, and I told you so."

"With what money? You owe me from last time I spotted you."

"Sorry, gotta go! Potty training!"

***

The problem with being the most handsome and innovative male in the Night Court is that everyone wants to be him. Cassian rescued Buttmunch, and now Azriel wants one too.

He rushes to the texted location—to where his brother found an egg all by itself on the ground. Cradled in the mud at the banks of swampy water lies Buttmunch's future brother.

"Should we wait for the egg to hatch?"

"I don't know. Buttmunch game ready made."

"Ready—Ready made?"

"Yeah, hatched and chirping and all. He just kinda fell out of a tree."

The two of them stand there, inspecting the egg. Cassian feels little feet scractching at his head as Buttmunch pops out of his bun, joining in the open display of curiosity.

Beside them, the water sloshes. Both Illyrians turn their attention to the murky depths.

"Is that—"

"RUN!"

A giant crocodile bursts out of seemingly nowhere, snapping its jaws at the two idiots invading its nest. Cassian holds onto Buttmuch while running for dear life.

"Sorry, Butt," Cassian says, breathless, once they reach safety. "We'll find you a sibling."

***

The scare by the swamp weighs on Cassian's mind. What if Buttmunch had fallen off? What if Cassian forgot to hold onto him and he'd been eaten? Oh, he'd be inconsolable if he lost his baby chikie.

"You're not a baby anymore. Look how chonky you are. That's teen-bird chonk. That means you're ready to fly," he lectures. "It's for your safety."

"Are we sure he understands?" Feyre squats down to scratch his fuzzy little head. "He is so cute."

"Did you understand your parents when you were born?"

"No. I was a baby."

"Okay, well, Buttmunch is a genius. Look at this." Cassian twirls his finger. "Do the cyclone!"

Right on cue, Buttmunch turns in a circle on the spot. The hatchling chirps and preens at his papa-bat.

"That's it, I'm kidnapping him and keeping him forever."

"You can try, but he's imprinted on me. It's why Tamlin let him live with me instead of releasing him back into the Spring Court forests."

"We'll see when he learns to fly and becomes independent. So, how do we start?"

As one of the last people who learned to fly, Feyre is the perfect teaching assistant to Cassian. The three of them stand on the roof. They try to show Buttmunch to flap his wings, but the chick only tilts his head to the left and to the right in confusion.

"Like this," Cassian takes big leaping steps, flapping his wings in demonstration.

Buttmunch hops after him excitedly, but his wings are tucked firmly at his sides.

"Okay, what if I just pushed him off the roof? His instincts are bound to kick in, right?"

"What if I pushed you off the roof?"

Feyre regards Cassian like he's lost his damn mind. Flying isn't easy and rushing that process isn't going to make Buttmunch successful. She bends down to scoop the tiny bluejay into her hands. He nestles into the warmth of her touch and that gives her an idea.

"Fly," she tells Cassian.

"What?"

"Just fly. Pretend like you're leaving him behind."

Cassian frowns. Abandonment seems… cruel. He looks between Feyre and his munchkin, then steps back off the edge. As soon as he disappears, Buttmunch cries out desperately. Cassian swoops back up into the sky, flapping his wings and keeping a distance between them.

"Go to papa," Feyre tells Buttmunch, extending her arms.

The chick remains focused on Cassian, spreading its little wings and flapping. He tries and tries, trying to lift himself when Feyre decides to give him a little momentum. A little toss up into the air where she can still catch him and there he goes.

"He's flyin'! My baby boy is flyin'!"

Buttmunch's trajectory is a little unsteady, dropping a little as he tries to meet Cassian in the air. Oh, he doesn't seem sure at all, but he's determined. He chirps, chirps, and Cassian likes to say he's announcing his arrival—I'm coming! I'm coming!

Cassian cheers him on and catches him, howling his victory. His Buttmunch is the best, the very best!

***

Flying is freedom.

Flying is boundless.

He can go as far and as wide as he pleases, with nothing to stop him except his own will. Cassian soars through the clouds above Velaris, a fierce blue dart beside him. He twists his body, torpedoing through the white wisps, and the bluejay mimicks his prowess.

The two of them were meant to fly.

Velaris boasts the most beautiful sights, but there is nothing like the endless sky welcoming him and his Buttmunch with open arms.

#hope you guys enjoyed this!#please make sure to go send some love to cassian week!!#cassianweek2024 #acotar memes #acotar tweets #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #tamlin #cassian #eris vanserra #helion #tarquin #nesta archeron

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ofallthingsnasty · 11 months ago

Text

pairing: sanji x f!reader tags: crack treated seriously, sanji being sanji, dental student!reader but written from sanji's pov so no medical knowledge needed, fat reader (especially in the belly and tits), suggestive, minors dni, law starring as the resident cockblock word count: 1.8k note: weeks ago I talked about how I parked my tits on the forehead of my patient while doing my first frontal filling years back and immediately got the worst possible idea for a little fic. dedicated to that very same young man. I'm still so sorry dude you were a real one 😶

Sanji feels like his pants are going to explode any moment now. When he got up this morning, he hadn’t expected to have the fingers of a woman down his throat - feeling, massaging and palpating. Admittedly, you’re a little rough with him because you’re untrained but that slight tickle of his gag reflex your fingers evoke is hotter than he thought it could be. He has half a mind not to chase them with his tongue, not wanting to scare you off.

Of course, your intentions are innocent. You’re trying to see something that is entirely beyond his scope but hey, he isn’t the professional here. (Or on the road to be a professional, considering that you’re still a student.) The last time he went to the dentist it had certainly been different - curt, clinical and without much frou-frou - but whatever it is they’re teaching the students nowadays, he finds himself very much agreeing to it. Maybe a bit too much, he thinks and tries to fight the half-chub with thoughts of his old man.

It’s hard, pun intended. You are a dream in starched white directly in front of him, round face scrunched up in concentration. Clearly, you’re taking your task very seriously but that doesn’t help him much with staying composed when you’re clumsily whipping his head around by his teeth, the touch demanding and a little careless. You don’t seem to be the bossy type but there is something about sitting beneath a beam of cold, white light while getting thoroughly inspected by a soft-cheeked, lovely woman that makes his face traitorously warm. “Alright”, you say and pull your fingers out of his mouth, white nitrile shiny with his spit, your skin peeking through the stretched material.

He briefly wonders how they’d feel wrapped around his-

Shit.

“Mucosa looks healthy, gingiva is inflamed, though”, you say to your assisting student, as you turn away from him again - some skinny dude with a severe expression and a goatee. “Can you write that down?”

The guy just nods behind a paper file and Sanji can see it shake with the pressure of a pen against printed-on lines. There is a name tag clipped to his chest but Sanji is ignoring it on purpose. He doesn’t like him at all - he had given the blond nothing but filthy looks after Sanji had offered you his first name upon introduction, and even interrupted him when he was only trying to make (perfectly harmless) small talk. Something about time being of essence but Sanji is just not buying that.

Asshole.

They had battled it out via eye contact when Sanji had to gurgle that god-awful mouthwash for a solid minute and the only thing he won in those sixty seconds was the knowledge that Goatee has terrible manners.

Just his luck, he figures. The one chance he has to be meticulously pampered by a pair of cute dental students has to be ruined by some pierced killjoy. This situation could only have been worse if (by some miracle) Zoro turned out to be your assistance. But fortunately that man knows as much about teeth as he does about navigation: fuck all.

It had been Nami who had recommended the student program to him when he noticed a pesky, dark spot right between his incisors - and while she was intent on saving him money, he was more taken by the thought of being put into the care of aspiring dentists like you. Sanji had been sold. And he had been even more thrilled when he got that first call from you, your voice promising nothing but prowess, delicate hands in his mouth and a sweet face to stare at. (Okay, maybe your hands aren't so delicate after all - but one smile from behind your mask and all is forgiven.)

Too bad your sweet glory comes with a lanky, pierced guard dog.

“Have you had any injections in the past?”, you ask and pull him out of his reverie, a syringe already in your dominant hand. “Ever had any troubles with them?”

He shakes his head no and tries to keep his breathing even when you duck down to him, hunched over as you push his upper lip towards his nose in one swift notion. “This is gonna sting a little. And you might feel a little pressure.” Indeed, it does - but it’s so miniscule that he can barely call it a pinch. Your concern for him is incredibly cute, though. Your hand is a little shaky as you press the liquid out of the needle but aside from the feeling of liquid pooling underneath sturdy skin, he feels nothing. He watches as you furrow your brow and let out a sigh of relief when the syringe is empty. You’re clearly nervous and he wants it to be because of him so, so badly but unfortunately, he knows better.

“It’ll be over soon, you’re doing so well”, you say after putting the needle away and take his upper lip between your index finger and thumb and slot the digit right into the fold that his mucosa forms, gently pulling and rubbing at the same time. “Just a little longer, can you do that for me?” Oh, he’d do much more than this for you, he thinks but the only thing that comes out of him is a weak gurgle.

Goatee scoffs next to him.

“I think you didn't inject enough. You might want to re-apply some.”

“No, I gave him almost two milliliters, that should be enough”, you say and he can tell you’re pouting underneath the mask. Sanji swears the other man grins for a split second. “Bummer.”

“Alright, we’ll just do some prep while the anesthetic kicks in, okay?”, you ask and don’t even wait for an answer. He watches you while you flit around the tiny space, gathering things on the little tray that hovers above him, nods and smiles when you do your best to apply a clunky dental dam and lets you move the chair into the right position. When you’re done, the world is almost upside down, with his head tilted and you right in the center of it all, trying to adjust the light above you.

“Any moment this gets uncomfortable, you tell me immediately, alright?”, you say far above him and he’s grateful that Goatee is doing a great job at using that little saliva tube because he’d be drooling otherwise.

Framed by a pair of thighs, your warmth just at the tip of his head, your breasts almost a shelf between him and your face. This is how he wants to die, he thinks. Just a whole lot of soft woman surrounding him. But it’s only just about to get better.

You take the drill into your hands and inch closer until he feels something solid, yet soft touching him. He realizes that it’s your belly at the same time your assistance does, because as his eyes go dinner-plate-wide, Goatee hisses your name through clenched teeth. “Posture.” Never has Sanji hated another man more than him in this very moment. “Oh, thanks”, you beam, so genuine it makes him want to cry. Unfair. Life is entirely unfair. He wallows in self-pity while you let the bur whir. It’s astounding that he really doesn’t feel anything but the pressure and the low vibration that makes his bones swing, too bad it’s exponentially less wonderful when he could have marveled at the feeling and that warm softness touching him. “You know”, you start the moment the instrument buries itself into his enamel, talking as if you’re both contemplating life over some wine. “Your gums are really inflamed. I can tell that you smoke a lot.” Not able to really answer because of the thin sheet of latex over his mouth, he simply hums in confirmation. He can tell that it bothers you - adorable, you’re worried for his health - because you had been downright shocked while going through a questionnaire with him earlier, shooting Goatee looks that only could be described as Are you hearing what I’m hearing? when he confessed to smoking a pack a day.

Well, old habits die hard. “You should really consider quitting or at least cutting down-”, you start and continue to list all the terrible consequences his nicotine addiction might bring, all the while you’re swinging around that little diamond bur like it’s a pen. And, still unable to answer, he hums. If he was able to, he’d probably tell you that he’d do anything for you as long as you let him live between your tits, preferably until the day he draws his last breath. Fuck. It’s definitely the wrong line of thought, especially because they’re so close in this position. He swears he can see the color of your bra peek through your scrubs - he’d almost be giving in to the next little daydream if it weren’t for the fact that you seem to hunch over ever so slightly while you work. Too lost in your thoughts, you seem to have forgotten about the warning you received earlier and let your body curl into itself to get a better view at his tooth. Closer, just a little closer, he thinks, almost going cross-eyed as you concentrate more and more on the task at hand and less on sitting straight. Not even Goatee seems to notice, too focused on helping you. God, are you wearing pink? The thought is enough to send a rush of blood back down to his crotch, his hands gripping the seat underneath him like his life depends on it. He’s desperately trying to think of a million unpleasant things at once - he’s not trying to spoil your efforts. You had been so eager on the phone, had told him that frontal fillings are hard to get. It’d be a shame to ruin that opportunity for you but- The very last few ounces leave his head when he can finally feel that heavenly touch of fabric-cupped fat right on his forehead, the slightest kiss of heaven underneath blessed sterile light. Angels are singing somewhere, he’s sure, and if his mouth wasn’t already open, he’d let out the most pained silent scream to ever exist. Your tits are heavy, they’re warm and they were made to rest on his face until he suffocates and by god, you just don’t back off. Sanji is nothing but a pathetic little prey animal caught between your soft belly and your breasts and he can do nothing but play dead in hope that he might come out of this alive, somehow. You shift your weight, probably reach for the tray in front of you, imaginary violins start playing and it’s officially over.

He slacks against your touch before he can even gurgle for attention (and really, does he want to? If he were to die right now, it would be an honor, a befitting end), the world around him growing quiet, a screen of white taking over. Wherever he is going to is warm and cozy and has a magnetic pull on him, so he follows.

The last thing he hears is you calling his name and Goatee barking orders - because of course he has to get the last word in. “I told you to keep your back straight, god fucking dammit-”

And if you learned one thing that day it was to get your milkers out of people’s faces lest they faint 😔

#sanji x reader #one piece x reader #/sanji #/one piece #chubby reader #fat reader

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piscespetals · 1 year ago

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summary: in which sevika becomes your roommate. read part one here

content: fluff, angst, lesbian disaster

word count: 4k

sorry for the long wait! i've been very ill and it's taken a long while to recover since i'm immunocompromised. let me know your thoughts!

Chapter Two

Sevika is right...

Her friends are nice.

The first time that you meet them is two weeks after she moves in.

She tells you that she initially, “Just wants to show them the place.”

She asks if you’re okay with that.

“Of course,” You respond, taken aback by the question.

You have a feeling that Sevika will do that often–ask for your permission, that is.

A part of you is flattered that she respects you so much to do so.

When they arrive, there’s two of them. One is a short heavy set woman with a buzz cut and gauges. She has striking cheekbones and smells nice. Her name is Hazel.

The other is a burly man, maybe ten years your senior, with a greying beard and ash brown hair. He wears clunky boots, something that you notice about him immediately and his name is Vander.

Hazel hugs you upon introduction. She has a tattoo on her neck in red ink; a viper with its fangs bared. The sight catches your breath. Instantly, you decide that you like her.

The four of you make your way throughout the flat. It’s easy to laugh along to Vander’s terribly corny puns and Hazel’s witty side-remarks. Sevika is the tamer one of the trio, which is not something you had expected, yet makes sense nonetheless.

When you all have made your way to the living room, the setting sun shines through the blinds of the patio door. It must be closer to dusk–a time of day that you often enjoy.

Your stomach grumbles and your nerves have settled to near nonexistence. With a sense of ease, you turn to Vander and Hazel and ask, “Would you two like to stay for dinner?”

You can tell that your offer shocks them. The original plan was for their visit to be short. At least, that’s what Sevika has assured you of. But you didn’t seem to mind their company for a few hours more.

“We’d love to!” Vander replies, without hesitation.

When you glance towards Sevika, she’s peering at you with bright sparkling irises. A slow smile creeps onto her face, one that displays her pearly whites and gap. A buzz of exhilaration shoots through you. She winks, a small notion that somehow manages to speak a thousand words.

Your veins nearly explode.

Your teeth gnaw on the inside of your cheek, as you struggle to contain yourself from bursting into a shit-eating grin.

There’s a routine to you and Sevika’s livelihood.

She usually cooks the meals. You do your best to clean the house afterwards. Though you're not much of a cleaner, Sevika’s presence seems to make you want to do so. She’s particular about her living space. She likes everything tidy and organized; two words that you weren’t very familiar with before meeting her. But she somehow makes those traits easy for you to adopt.

She likes to grocery shop. You don’t take kindly to those sorts of errands; that was a chore that Mel used to happily complete. But now, it’s been delegated to Sevika.

When she arrives back home from the store, you meet her in the parking lot. She always looks mighty and powerful when she pulls up in her shiny black truck.

And it feels natural when she regards you with a warm grin, climbing out of her ridiculous vehicle with ease. You never fail to smile in return. Because smiling around her is the easiest thing to do–nearly as easy as breathing.

She slips a few bags of groceries into your arms–which always seem to be the lightest loads–while she grabs the heavier items. And the both of you walk back to the apartment, glued at the hip, chatting about everything that comes to mind. Or, on some days, nothing at all.

Conversation is never a necessity around Sevika.

Her presence is, invariably, more than enough.

Sevika has a girlfriend.

It’s brought to your attention a month after she moves in. One day, Sevika asks you if her girlfriend can stay the night. “Is that okay with you?” She mutters, during the early hours of the morning.

You were aware that she had started seeing someone, but you didn’t think it was so… serious.

Not serious enough for her to want the woman to sleep over. Not serious enough for her to ask your permission.

“If it’s not,” She adds. “I completely get it.”

She wants to know if you’re okay with that idea. Oddly enough, the fact that she’s merely asking for permission is a gesture that spreads warmth inside of your chest.

But there’s also a much stronger emotion that washes over you. For some reason, your instinctive reflex is to wrinkle your nose. You catch yourself trying to cloak that reaction by diving your nose into your mug and taking a hearty gulp of your tea. The liquid burns your throat.

After you swallow, you turn your back towards her, expressing a sudden interest in the toast she’s made you. Suddenly, you aren’t as woo’d by her request to make you breakfast. Did she butter your toast because she wanted to? Or because she was trying to lift your spirits, in hopes that you’d be okay with meeting her girlfriend?

Your mouth sours. “Why would it bother me?” Your voice is hoarse from lack of usage. “You’re a grown woman. You can have anyone over that you’d like. I’m not like,” You clear your throat. “Your mother or anything.” Then you shove a piece of warm buttery toast into your mouth. You aren’t the type to eat toast on a daily basis, but since she’s moved in, you have. You hate how much she makes you love it. “Plus, you're on the lease. So this is your place too. You don’t have to ask me for permission.”

She hesitates before replying, “It's the polite thing to do.”

You roll your eyes.

Polite this and polite that.

Sevika’s always being polite with you, even when you don’t ask her to. Even when you don’t feel like you deserve it.

Even when you’re being anything but polite to her.

You hate that about her. She makes your muscles relax and your toes simultaneously curl. She makes your heart leap whilst somehow causing your breathing to even. She makes you feel like a walking contradiction. She makes you…

She makes you–

“She’s your girlfriend, Sev.” You don’t mean to seem disgruntled when you say this. But somehow–you just are. “If you want her to be here, let her be here.”

You grab your mug then your plate of toast, and head to your room.

“Thanks for breakfast!” You force yourself to sound chirpier. It’s an attempt to smooth things over, because you feel bad for being grumpy, even if you don’t have the emotional intelligence to actually correct it.

She doesn’t reply and she doesn’t follow after you.

You shut your bedroom door with a sigh.

You meet Sevika’s girlfriend later that night. It’s brief.

You had been eating pizza while watching reruns of The Nanny in the living room. Your mouth was full of crust when Sevika came traipsing through the living room, introducing you to her girlfriend while holding her hand.

“This is Monica,” She said.

The first thing you noticed was that Monica was pretty. Big chocolate brown eyes, russet brown skin and a leggy figure.

Your chewing came to a halt then, eyes widening in surprise. A part of you wanted to shrink at that moment, due to your faded old tshirt and sweatpants. Monica was the sort of woman that you’d probably find yourself ogling any other day. But today was different, because she was Sevika’s Monica. And that made you feel…weird.

“Your tights are ripped,” Was the only reply you gave, zeroing in on the exposed patch of skin above her knee. It was the only flaw that you could spot at first glance. It was the only thing about her that didn’t make you feel small.

“Oh,” Monica mumbled, gazing down at her leg. “Um, thanks for.. Letting me know?”

Your lips pulled into a toothy grin, “Anytime.”

“Alright, well..” Sevika’s sentence trailed off as she took a few steps toward her room.

“I ordered pizza, by the way!” You called, hoping to keep her there. Just for a few more moments. “It’s from that favorite place of yours on Eastern Avenue.”

Her lips twitched when she peered at you, halting her steps. “You’re the best.”

“I know.”

An awkward drag of silence filtered in.

Suddenly, you were aware of Monica’s presence again. “It was nice meeting you… Melissa, is it?

A laugh track from The Nanny sounded. You don’t remember the TV being so loud.

“Monica.”

“Oh, right.” Your grin widened. “Monica. That’s a beautiful name.”

“Thanks.”

When you tore your gaze away from her, Sevika was grinding her jaw, glowering at you.

Your teeth clenched through your smile, and it took all of your strength to keep from laughing. “Well, it was nice meeting you, Monica!”

She hummed quietly, seemingly offended. Sevika’s steps quickened.

Seconds later, her bedroom door slammed shut.

You would be lying if you said that you weren’t bothered by the idea of Sevika having a girlfriend. But it's not for the reasons that someone would assume.

You don’t care that she’s interested in another woman. No, that’s the least of your worries. You totally don’t care about that at all.

She can date whoever she wants to date.

It’s none of your business. Plus, she’s merely your roommate. Nothing more.

What you do care about is the fact that Monica doesn’t seem right for Sevika. Even though you're still trying to figure out why you feel that way—it still rings true to you hours after meeting her.

When you walk into the kitchen every morning, you’re normally met with the sight of Sevika making toast. You greet Sevika, and she talks with you about everything going on in her life.

It’s a routine that the both of you have made.

But Monica disrupts that.

It begins with her standing in the kitchen beside Sevika the morning after she sleeps over. And she's eating toast.

Your toast.

Melodramatic or not, that’s your first straw.

“Hey,” Sevika smiles.

“Morning,” Monica chirps.

You’re tired, eyes half shut, bonnet nearly slipping off your head and lips chapped.

You try to muster up enough energy to be genial.

But that’s disregarded when you see Monica reaching for a burgundy mug with yellow daisies.

Your favorite mug.

Your eyes widen and your lips part.

“Oh,” Sevika mutters, swiftly grabbing the mug from Monica’s grasp. “That’s not yours.” She sets it down infront of her, before reaching for another mug and holding it towards Monica. It’s one that you rarely use. “This one is.”

Monica blinks owlishly, a little thrown off by Sevika’s quick interjection. But she takes the mug with nimble fingers, muttering, “Thanks.”

When you walk closer towards the island, Sevika tilts her head towards the daisy-ridden cup. It’s tea. “I hope it’s warm enough.” She says.

You’re groggy and still trying to recover from your fatigue. You had a late night. But you do have to admit that Monica’s presence doesn’t help your sour mood.

A part of you is aware that your dislike for Monica isn’t rational. But a bigger part of you doesn’t care.

“You look exhausted.” Sevika says.

You take a swig of tea. She’s made it exactly how you like it.

“My colleague’s been out of office for a while so,” You sigh. “I’m stuck with the brunt of her work.”

Sevika’s lip tightens. “That doesn’t sound ethical.”

“Probably not. But,” You shrug. “That’s the way it’s going to be for now.”

Another swig of your tea while silence envelops the room.

Monica rests her head against Sevika’s shoulder, nibbling on her toast absentmindedly. You allow your gaze to linger on her for a few moments. She's close to perfect. Clear skin, sleepy doe eyes, pouty lips.

You don't question how she's caught Sevika’s attention. Anyone would be enamored by Monica’s beauty.

That's something that you can at least acknowledge.

“Toast?” Sevika mutters, pulling you out of your reverie. When you glance at her, she’s waiting with a quizzical stare and quirk of her eyebrow. She's caught you staring and the better half of you feels the need to look rueful. But you settle for a small smile and shake of your head.

“No, I’m alright. I'm going to start some work soon.”

“Already?” Creases form in her forehead.

“Early bird gets the worm.”

You need a distraction. Sevika’s been taking up too much space in your brain lately. Especially since Monica is in the picture.

Work will help you recenter yourself—and it'll be nice to get out of the house.

“See you later,” Monica interjects. Her voice is much smaller, eyes trailing to you slowly with a tentative grin.

You find yourself halting, thrown off by her voice.

For a small, small moment, you had forgotten she was there.

Your eyes flicker to Sevika, who’s watching you with an incomprehensible expression. She rubs her lips together, creating the smallest craters in her cheeks. Cheeks that look quite soft to touch—to caress.

You blink away those thoughts before they have a chance to plant a seed of other desires into your mind.

Nodding, you manage to return Monica’s grin, “See you.”

Then you're heading back towards your bedroom.

Sometimes, Monica is with Sevika while she grocery shops.

Those are the instances that you wish, more than ever, you had tagged along with Sevika instead.

Those are the few moments that you feel a sudden desire to embark on errands that you usually hate.

It’s been a little over a month since you’ve met Monica, and Sevika certainly didn't wait long until she started having her way with the girl.

It’s not like Sevika isn't allowed to have sex. You should have known this would happen at some point. This is her home too. And she’s an adult. She can do whatever she wants in her room—with whoever she wants.

But it starts to become an issue when you hear it.

Initially, it makes you laugh a little. Sure, it’s a little uncomfortable and causes your stomach to knot in a nauseating way, but it’s also fairly comical. The night begins with you relaxing in your room, watching a Julia Roberts rom-com on your television, while eating a bowl of ice cream. A loud knocking noise erupts halfway through the movie, and is what makes you pause your movie.

Then, fervorous cries are heard seconds later.

“Fucking unbelievable,” You mutter, jaw falling slack.

You listen for a few moments while ice cream drips onto your cleavage. Then you frown at the sound of Monica wailing, passionately, “Oh Vika!” Which is followed by, “Oh my god. You're so good..Too good.”

Those words, within itself, are traumatic enough for you to press play on your remote and raise the television volume up to a thundering 40 decibels.

The next morning, when Monica is long gone, you sit in the living room with Sevika. She’s going over tattoo designs in her sketchbook, looking completely domestic in a pair of grey cotton sweats and a baby blue crewneck. You hate how enamored you are by the beauty of her brown skin, and how it seems to pair perfectly with the color of her sweatshirt.

Liza Manelli sings before you on the television screen—surely a choice of yours rather than Sevika. But your roommate always seems to be content with whatever you put on.

It's only when she glances up from her sketchbook, catching you mid-stare, when she truly looks at you for the first time that day. She’s been absent minded for the majority of the evening.

She sends you a smile, “Hi.” She addresses genially.

“Hey,” You swallow.

Then you take this opportunity as a cue to begin your complaint about the previous night. She’s in a good mood right now, and it’s better to hash it out sooner rather than later.

Sevika listens intently. And when you're done, she nods, presses her lips into a firm line before apologizing earnestly.

Of course, you accept her apology right away.

“All is well,” You respond.

Then, without more than a beat that passes, you find yourself adding, “Besides, from what I heard, it must have been worth it. You're too good, apparently.”

Sevika lips part, eyes darting to you with traces of shock. “Oh my god.”

“I mean,” A slow smile stretches across your face. “You're far, far too good.”

She groans. “I hate you.”

“Oh, Vika!” You mock, hand flying to your heart. You present your best impression of an impassioned Monica, voice lilting up to the same squeaky resonance as hers. “You're just…too-”

“Jesus. Shut up.”

You laugh because it's easier to laugh about it. At least when you do so, you aren't allowing yourself to focus on the nagging lump at the back of your throat.

Seconds pass before Sevika’s laughter joins you.

The next time Monica sleeps over is three days later. You find the pair slipping into the apartment late at night, hand-in-hand, while they steal quick kisses from each other. You're sitting in the dining room, watching it all unfold with a mug of tea in your hand.

“Fancy some tea?” You ask.

Monica screeches, jumping away from Sevika as her hand flies to her chest.

Your roommate halts her movements, turning towards you with a snap of her neck and a string of colorful words.

The lights flicker on.

“What the fuck?” Sevika grumbles.

“Sorry. I shouldn't have interrupted,” You raise your mug. “No need to stop on my account! I’ll head back to my ro-”

Deep lines etch into Sevika’s forehead. An incredulous expression paints her features. She shakes her head, almost out of pure disbelief. “Why the hell are you sitting in the dark?” Her grey irises flash with a hint of annoyance.

In all honesty, you had been scrolling through Facebook on your phone and must have lost track of time. You were having trouble sleeping again and your usual habit of music playing wasn't helping. So you decided to make yourself a cup of tea.

It’s past midnight; a time that Sevika is rarely out. If she does stay out this late, it’s because she's spending the night at Monica’s residence. You hadn't exactly expected either one of them to come walking through the door. But since they have, you might as well pick some fun.

You clench your teeth through a smile, trying your hardest to suppress your laughter. “So, I’m guessing that’s a no?” You clarify. “...To the tea?”

Monica seems to be coming down from her fright, staring at you with furrowing eyebrows and a frown. Sevika rolls her lips into her mouth, placing both hands on her hips as she gazes down at the floor and leans onto her heels. You can tell that you're trying her patience. You’ve been doing a lot of that lately.

From your articles of clothing laying around the house to the sound of your music playing late into the night—you've really been testing her. It’s something that you’ve found yourself doing ever since you overheard her and Monica having sex. An act of rebellion? Sure. Immaturity? Most definitely.

No matter how much you try to talk some sense into yourself, nothing can really dissolve the feelings that you have towards that night.

It’s affecting you deeper than you currently understand.

“You have a little something right…here,” You say, raising your hand to the corner of your mouth. Your observation is directed towards Monica, and she mirrors your actions, wiping away at her smudged lipstick. “Oh, you almost got it. Sev, why don't you help the poor girl out?”

Sevika hardens her gaze at you, a warning that you should probably heed.

A warning that you, instead, disregard.

Standing up, you grab your mug and add, “Last call for tea? Going once?”

Monica lets out a bitter chuckle, peering at you under her lids before muttering something under her breath. She shakes her head, directing her attention to her nail beds.

“Twice?” You turn towards Sevika, who remains unamused. “Well, you can't say I didn't offer.”

You're not sure why that exactly makes Sevika snap.

Any other day, she'd happily say yes.

But tonight, you’ve seemed to provoke her.

Instead of being met with her charming smile, you're inflicted with the sight of steel eyes and hard lines.

“May I speak with you for a moment?” She doesn't wait for you to respond, instead, turning on her heels and walking towards the living room.

You follow after her, without so much as a glance towards Monica.

“What is it?” You ask, the moment that you step into the kitchen. You're barely able to get the question out before Sevika flips around, nearly knocking straight into you.

You stumble backwards, attempting to regain your balance, as your head tilts back to meet her gaze.

There’s something about the way that Sevika towers over you that makes you feel emotions you’ve never experienced before.

You generally don't like to be around people who diminish you; who make you feel small. Despite the obvious height difference, Sevika’s never been the type of woman who’s made you feel like that—even with all of your insecurities considered.

But even in that moment, it’s almost as if she could swallow you whole.

As if she could consume you.

Even with all of her fiery anger considered…

Even with—

“What's your problem?” Her question comes out cold and harsh.

It takes a lot of effort for you to not flinch. You aren't used to her having such an attitude with you—this is something completely new.

“My problem?” Your response is akin to someone being deeply insulted. You don't even try to hide your anger. “Am I not allowed to enjoy some tea in my dining room, for Christ’s sa-”

“That's not what I’m talking about and you know it.”

“I don't know what else you could be referring to.” Your arms fold across your chest while your wall of defense grows a foot taller. “Is it because I scared you? Scared her? I didn't think you’d be home. I assumed you would be at her place.”

“Why are you acting like this?”

Your lips purse as you roll your eyes. “...Don't know what you're talking about.”

“It's not like I haven't noticed it—she notices it. The way that you are around her…” Sevika tilts her head. “Are you trying to scare her away? Do you not like her? Because if so, I’d suggest that you say whatever the hell you need to say instead of acting like a teenager.”

Her breath mingles with yours, eyes flickering over your face with urgency. Looking. Searching for something.

Then she’s pulling away, putting space between the both of you as she leans against the kitchen island.

Her attention diverts to the surface of the countertop, shoulders heaving as she tries to catch her breath.

Although you probably asked for it, the effect of her words still land on your heartstrings, tugging painfully. Your ears ring and your gut twists.

“I ran out of my ambien.” You announce, voice taut. “So if you fuck her tonight, will you be a dear and do so quietly?”

You set your mug in the sink, but with more strength than you intend, so it falls over with a loud clatter. Out of the corner of your eye, Sevika startles at the sound.

When you walk past her, her hand that is closest to you twitches. Then it moves, as if she’s reaching to stop you, but you're already swatting her away.

“Don't,” You say, just loud enough for her to hear.

Her hand falls. She concedes. A low curse slips from her mouth, but you don't stay around long enough to address it.

Instead, the apartment remains silent for a few breaths as you slip back into your bedroom and ignore the cruel echo of regret.

#au writing #fanfic #piscespetals writing #sevika #sevika x reader #arcane au #arcane netflix #fluff #why are gays like this #roommate!sevika #divorced!sevika #sevika fic

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