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hii! my name is Carly/Moon. i'm an afrocaribbean artist that loves to draw and play (•́⍜•̀)/ i'm currently working on a game when im not doing commissions (which are open on kofi btw wink wink)! and i hope everyone reading has an awesome rest of their week 💜
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jinwoosbabyboo · 26 days
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“Daddy’s Home”
Telling the LADS Men you're pregnant. The setting? Happily Married and both parties want kids. Nothing but fluff here (All these men are substantially financially stable and I love that for us)
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Zayne
MC: Zayne I have something important to tell you
Zayne: I'm listening
MC: Im pregnant
Zayne: ....
MC: Baby?
Zayne: Im going to be a father?
MC: Yes we're having a baby
Zayne: I need to childproof the house. I'll need to work more hours.
MC: You already work inhuman hours
Zayne: We need a bigger house. Should I build it? I should build it. Why are you standing? You shouldn't be on your feet
MC: Sir I am 2 minutes pregnant we have time to prepare for this bundle of joy
Zayne: They'll need a college fund, driving lessons, a tutor...
Zayne continues mumbling and mulling over every single detail to himself
MC: I guess I'll relax enough for the both of us
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Rafayel
MC: Raf sit down I need to tell you something
Rafayel: Why do I need to sit down?
MC: Its safer
Rafayel: My Lemurian senses are tingling but I'll trust you
MC: Okay breath in
Rafayel: *breathes in*
MC: now breath out
Rafayel: *breathes out*
MC: I'm pregnant
Rafayel: *Chokes on his spit* WHAT!
MC: Im 2 months pregnant
Rafayel: I'm gonna be a mother????
MC: No you're gonna be a father
Rafayel: Can I handle this? Can I still eat seafood? Am I allowed to swim in the ocean?
MC: Why are you acting like you're the one carrying twins?
Rafayel: TWINS?! I GET A TWO FOR ONE DEAL?!
MC: What am I? A yard sale?? Don't say it like that
Rafayel: You’re really pregnant?
Rafayel grabs your hands and holds them to his chest where you can feel his heart racing
MC: Yes we’re going to be parents
Rafayel: you....and i....preg-.... twi-
MC: don't pass out please don't pass out right now
Rafayel: *Passes out anyway*
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Xavier
MC: Xavier?
Xavier who was currently laying with his head buried in your lap with his arms wrapped around your waist.
Xavier: Hmm?
MC: Do you want a baby? With me?
Xavier rubbing small circles on your lower back with his thumb as he stirred in his sleepy state
Xavier: I want everything with you
MC: Good
Xavier: *Dozing off*
MC: Because I’m pregnant
Xavier: That’s great
MC: …
Xavier: …
MC: and 3….2……..1
Xavier: Wait what ???
MC: You heard me
Xavier: So I’m a dad?
MC: Father to be
Xavier: We have to start their swordsmanship training right away
MC: How about we take it slow like letting them grow in my stomach first?
Xavier: Oh I guess you’re probably right
MC: yea now lay back down
Xavier snuggles right back into your lap placing soft kisses on your stomach that isn’t even showing yet
Xavier: My little angel
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Sylus
MC: I need your help how would you tell someone they're a father?
Luke: Im a father?!
MC: Luke shut up
Kieran: *Shoves Luke*
Luke: Sorry
MC: I just don't know how to tell Sylus
Sylus: Tell me what?
Kieran: Me and Luke are uncles now!
MC: Kieran!
Sylus: You’re pregnant?
MC: *Shows the pregnancy test* We’re having a baby
Sylus: Looks as though my efforts weren’t in vain
MC: You were trying to get me pregnant?
Sylus: Why do you think I constantly had you in a mating press?
MC: Sylus! Don’t talk like that in front of the twins
Sylus: *chuckles* I can’t wait to see you plump and glowing with our child princess
Later….
Kieran: I can’t wait to teach them sarcasm
Luke: I’m definitely doing everything their strict parents tell them not to do
Sylus: You two. Sidebar. In my office. Now.
MC, In the background: ooouu you guys are in trouble … bad uncles and the baby isn’t even here yet
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pearlywritings · 1 year
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Sometimes the name doesn't matter
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synopsis: sometimes it matters that you are his wife.
pairings: Alhaitham, Ayato, Diluc, Kaeya x fem!reader (separately)
tw: fluff, established relationship, a little bit of bullying, a bit of unwelcome drunk flirting, characters are whipped for their wives
word count: 5.4k+ words
a/n: part 2 can be read here!
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Alhaitham 
Your husband is… Truly something. Honestly, that's the best way to describe this epitome of nonchalance, smugness and sarcasm, sprinkled with sharp glares and served with a smartass sauce. No one would be able to swallow such a nasty pill, yet you somehow managed. But that's what doctors say, right? The medicine might be bitter, but it'll get better. And it did.
Hard to believe, but the Akademiya's Scribe is enamored by you - it took time to realize, many interactions for him to see that you do not rise annoyance in him, multiple times sharing the eye contact and hundreds of hours being your interlocutor to cognize the beauty of you, but when he fell - he fell hard, and the realization didn't make him feel repulsed. On the contrary, it brought him inexplicable peace, and, being an efficient and straightforward man he is, Alhaitham faced you the very next day and asked out on a date.
The rest is history. You dated, you moved in, you got married - the sequence your husband perfected in its briefness to be over with quickly anytime his colleagues or anyone asked about you and your relationship. You, of course, would give a more detailed summary to your friends, speaking of him so tenderly, always witnessing the same reaction - disbelief. And you get it where they come from - after all, your partner is known to not be the most cordial person. He prefers it that way though - he is bothered much less and can dedicate that free time to his lovely wife.
He makes it a point to not leave the house unnecessarily early, just exactly enough to get to his office on time, and same with finishing his work, bluntly rejecting anyone who tries to approach him with stuff. This way he doesn’t waste a second with you, quite on contrary, sometimes a couple of hours can be added, if you visit him during the afternoon to go grab lunch together, or enjoy the one you brought with you, and then rest somewhere in a private spot with your head on his shoulder, holding a bigger hand that is resting on your thigh, while his other one is occupied with a book. This is enough to power you both up to push through the rest of the day, and Alhaitham really appreciates it, never failing to give you a kiss on the lips and murmuring the soft words of reassurance, before parting your ways till the evening.
Today is one of those days when you find yourself in the House of Daena with a home-cooked lunch neatly wrapped and warm in your hands. A couple of librarians greet you on the way, knowing perfectly well who you are, and you smile at them. One older woman, who’s always been fond of your character, informs you that Alhaitham hasn’t left the Grand Sage’s office since the moment he arrived, and you thank her for going out of her way to reassure you that you will not need to search for him.
There’s another exchange of greetings at the bottom of an elevator and just seconds later you start ascending to the above of the huge library. The quiet whirling of mechanisms is calming and you hum softly to yourself, imagining that tender look in those light turquoise eyes, a rare shine in orange-ringed yellow pupils and a slight pull of thin lips upon seeing your figure and catching a whiff of food you brought. A content sigh escapes your chest and you prepare to soon step off the huge round platform.
But instead of catching a glimpse of your husband, you are met with sharp black eyes, staring at you and a scowl present on the face of a person you don't believe you've seen before, at least not long enough to remember. You blink in surprise, eyes darting to look at the man from head to toe - he is wearing the Akademiya’s robes, but there is no indicator to which Darshan he belongs to. A Matra perhaps? But you are used to seeing a completely different face of a scholar Alhaitham appointed as his secretary for the period of time he’d fulfill the role of an Acting Grand Sage. Panah has soft brown eyes, always nodding to you in a greeting and leaving upon your arrival if it is lunch time and his boss doesn’t instruct him to stay and carry on with his job, not minding you two.
This one practically glares at you, arms crossed and posture intimidating. You simply tilt your head in question, waiting for him to say something.
“Who allowed you to enter?”
The tone of his voice is pretty rude, and the gruff voice doesn't add grace to it. You are not one to judge someone by their looks - your husband is the proof of that, so you decide to brush it off and simply answer.
"Shohre of course, as usual."
“...as usual?” His brows furrow, and you get even more confused with the question. Is your husband having some kind of an impromptu inspection? He didn’t tell you anything about it in the morning, and since the Akasha got turned off, there is no simple way to warn you of it. 
"Is Alhaitham holding any meeting, perhaps?" You try, knowing it's absurd since he doesn't love his sweet lunch time being interrupted, but right now it's hard to find an explanation for this hostile-acting man's actions.
"You have so little respect for the Acting Great Sage?"
This time the booming edge in his words makes an echo in a pretty vast space and almost makes you flinch. The situation is escalating pretty quickly.
"Sir, I don't know who you are, but I do not believe I ever deserved such treatment from you. Would you be so kind to explain what's going on or at least let me see the Acting Great Sage-"
That must've sounded kind of sarcastic, because the man looks like he is ready to fume akin to a kettle.
"Who even are you!? Who do you think you are? Demanding a meeting like that - you must know his schedule is packed, so don't you assume that your pretty face would get you through-"
"Jahan, what is going on?" The "Jahan" shuts instantly upon hearing a deep, dripping with authority voice behind him. Your face instantly brightens when you spot the tall man approaching you two with his arms crossed and the most nonchalant expression etched in his features.
“We have an intruder, Sir.”
What in the Archon’s name- This is becoming ridiculous.
"An intruder?" He lifts his brow and glances at you, gaze lingering just for a few seconds longer. Then it returns to his subordinate. "I don't see one here."
"This woman," you move just in time not to have his index finger directly point you right in your face, "came here without prior appointment, not stating her purpose, not even stating her name!"
"Is that so?" You almost snort at how little Alhaitham cares for what this man has for an explanation, instead moving directly to you and taking a heavy lunch boxes from your hands, allowing your shoulders and arms to drop in relief.
“Her name is of no matter. All you need to know is that she is my wife.”
The room falls silent. The man stares at his boss with eyes so wide, you worry they’d pop out of his sockets. Your husband though doesn’t show any reaction to the stunned look on the man’s face, balancing all the containers in one hand, offering you the other, which you take with a smile.
"S-she what?"
"My wife. And she, along with the necessary descriptions, is literally the only person on the list of the people who are free to come and leave whenever. On the list Panah passed to you along with other instructions before taking his sick leave. Did you even skip through those?"
The tone of your husband is cold with a mocking edge, rubbing his subordinate’s incompetence in his face, and you don't need to look at the man to sense his panic.
"I-I, no of course I thoroughly looked through every single one, but I do not remember such paper, it must've been lost along the process-"
"It doesn't matter. Now you are aware. But there is one more thing you need to learn about my wife visiting."
"Yes, Sir?"
"You leave the moment she enters."
There is a momentary pause (you know Alhaitham is rolling his eyes inwardly at how slowly the notion seems to reach him), before Jahan snaps out of his stupor, slightly bows, mumbling something and quickly walks off to the elevator.
Not even waiting for the mechanism to start, your husband tugs on your hand and you take the hint, following him to the sofas and a table.
"What an imbecile," is murmured in annoyance and you finally chuckle, covering your mouth with a hand.
Your husband is truly something, but one thing is absolutely certain - his wife is the only person that really worths his nerves and time.
Ayato
Kamisato Ayato is a character of many admirable traits and worth-mentioning accomplishments, a great leader, an amazing big brother, a boss held in high regard, and a loving husband of three years to you. This last, but not the least, is Commissioner's favorite, and he makes sure to show it every opportunity present in his individual mischievous way.
You know he gets away with a lot of things, and for numerous reasons, ranging from being the head of the Yashiro Commission, to him being pretty unknown by face among the commoners due to Ayaka handling all the public affairs. This one in particular is harmless, but there is that little thing which drives you up the wall - he does it only when you are present, leaving you very flustered and with a fast beating heart.
"My name? Oh, I am a husband. This gorgeous woman's husband."
"Lord Kamisato? No need to be so formal with me, just call me her husband."
"'Kamisato Ayato' and all my titles are so long to write down, can't I sign it with 'Y/n's hubby' instead?"
"Kamisato Y/n's husband. That's who I am."
"Ayaka, have you forgotten? No more calling me 'big brother', only 'Y/n's husband- Stop laughing, I am serious!"
The last one is literally happening right before your eyes, with the younger sibling hiding her smile and suppressing her giggles behind her intricately decorated fan, as the older one has taken his glove off, wiggling his fingers to show the glistening golden band wrapped around one of them. You, on the other hand, are trying to cover your heated face with a stack of papers you picked when Ayaka entered the office and addressed her big brother as, well, big brother. Peeking above the filled with reports sheets you catch a sly smile playing on Ayato's lips, while his usually piercing eyes reflect the special kind of adoration he holds for you.
You know why he is doing this - the man fought hard for your heart and then hand in marriage, and since it is now a reality, he absolutely keens on that "I am your husband" notion. Sometimes it's a perfect ice breaker in introducing you two to new people, sometimes it's a reason for an eye roll (yours as well), at times it puts people in stupor which Ayato uses to his advantage, but there is always only one initial thought behind every single one of them - showing the world he is proud to be your partner with a label "husband" on it.
And this sentiment is fully returned! However you never had an opportunity to do the same - he always beats you to it, and leaves bashful long enough for the moment to become wasted. You know you can always talk it through with him and he’d be more than happy to give you a chance, but, after all these times he left you speechless, it’s simply a matter of pride to pay him back. Besides… You really-really want to see his reaction if you told someone important those words. 
That you are his wife.
You hear a soft knock on the living room’s door where you and Ayato are sitting next to each other at one side of the low table.
“Lord and Lady Kamisato, the guests have arrived.”
“Wonderful, please let them in.”
The man notices your elation upon hearing those words and smiles to himself - your friends from another nation, whom you haven’t seen properly in ages, finally managed to reach the coasts of Inazuma and seek a meeting to reconnect with you and also meet your mysterious husband you’ve written and praised so much in your letters.
The scene is heartwarming. Two girls around your age are tightly hugging you with excited squeals while the man that came in together with them, patiently waits to be introduced. Ayato follows his example, watching your grinning face, filing away every single detail about it - the sparkles in your eyes, the rosiness of your cheeks, that adorable wrinkling of your nose when the girls say something cheesy, and the pure happiness written all over your visage.
“Oh, Y/n, it’s so nice to see you again after so long! So much happened…”
“Yes! We totally should discuss every single event! But I offer to start by introducing us and our husbands.”
“One of you got married?” You ask surprised. “I know that only one of you got recently engaged-”
“Me! But the wedding is so soon, that I already call him my husband, hehe. Oh, we brought the wedding invitation for you and your husband as well, I hope you two will make it!”
“Girls, girls, let’s calm down,” you laugh, pausing them and gesturing to the two men silently observing you - both pairs of eyes shining with admiration. “Ayato, my dear, I want you to meet my friends I’ve told you so much about…”
Your husband hears familiar names, ones he’s remembered long ago, and nods in recognition, offering each a kiss on the back of their hand.
“It’s a pleasure to meet people my beloved holds in high regard.”
“Likewise,” they giggle, giving you teasing looks about how gentlemanly your spouse is, and you roll your eyes, but a smile tugging on your lips doesn’t go unnoticed.
“And I’ll take an opportunity to introduce our companion,” one of the women says, stepping closer to her fiance and offering everyone his name and a slight description of his field of work, to which Ayato hums with interest.
“And these,” your other friend gestures to you and your husband, “are Kamisato Ayato and-”
“Wife.”
Everyone falls silent and looks at you with confusion. You yourself are stunned, eyes slightly widened and heart skipping a beat. The word really just flew out of your mouth faster when you could think about it.
“Excuse me?” Your friend gapes at you, and suddenly it clicks. This spontaneous reaction, caused by your unspoken desire, presents you with a perfect opportunity. You finally can get “revenge” on your husband.
“That’s what I said, sweety,” with a smirk and boosting confidence you glance at Ayato and meet his lilac eyes, staring at you with a hint of amusement. “I am this marvelous man’s wife. You know, 'Kamisato Y/n' is way too long to pronounce. So, maybe just a wife instead?”
The silence reigns again, with the three of your guests clearly being in stupor and your husband observing you with an unreadable expression. But suddenly he laughs. Joyfully and sincerely, it plucks on the strings of your crazily beating heart. Instantly there are arms wrapping around your waist and lips pressed against your temple, and you can feel the smile he hides in your hair.
“Yes, that’s right… This remarkable woman is my wife. Most incredible and lovely wife.”
Turning your head slightly you manage to catch a soft blush dusting his porcelain skin, before he faces away from you. Oh Archons, he loves it and he is bashful!
As you fully turn in his embrace and start teasing him, loud enough for only the man to hear (you are not that cruel to embarrass him in front of people), your guests' existence is forgotten for a moment. Both girls sigh and look at the completely lost man, whose hand his future wife takes and rubs a thumb over his knuckles.
“Ah… Please, don’t mind that. She always had a strange sense of humor, and it seems that her husband only enabled it.”
That is true, but you look genuinely happy, so they can bear a week of occasional cringing.
Diluc
The annual harvest celebration has been a tradition in the Ragnvindr family for as long as the Dawn Winery existed. When Master Crepus was alive, it was hosted in the grand mansion with spacious halls and intricately decorated staircases, the one Diluc used to call his home. Guests would gather, wine bars would be uncorked and red liquid fill dozens of glasses, as he and Kaeya would curiously watch the adults interact, sneaking out of their rooms to spy from the hiding spots they knew so well.
But not anymore. Gone were the days of careless happiness he calls the past now, gone his father, gone the mansion, and gone his desire for active social interaction. It's been some years since his return and the sale of the mansion in attempts to run away from said past. The celebration came to a stop for as long as he was gone and then while he tended to re-establishing the business after arrival.
The Dawn Winery, despite all the maids and winemakers, would become so quiet. And it's not like he stayed there for long too - he was always somewhere, preoccupied by something.
That is until his life was shaken and turned upside down, and all by the hands of one single person. The person, who brought light back to his dark crimson eyes, who made him stop and think about how he can not just exist, but live, and happily so, waiting for every opportunity possible to be in the loving presence; the person who brought out that part of him he buried deep down in his graveyard of a soul, and gave it freedom to be again. The home actually started feeling like one, not a building he had a study and a bedroom in, but a place he could share with another, basking in the long-forgotten sensations, having his heart dance jigs and face soften in a tender gaze.
Many changes occurred, and, with some encouragement, he decided to bring back the tradition his father held in high regard, with only his sons' birthdays being more important to the late wine master.
The Winery is not as big as the family mansion used to be, but it is still enough space, with some of the furniture moved and the floor cleared, it can host many people. Besides, there is always a lovely outside with benches, and tables, and chairs, and it seems that Barbatos is kind to you, sending delightful weather as his gift.
Diluc is not a fan of social gatherings, however, he couldn't help but feel giddy when Adelinde exclaimed in elation at the prospect, be rather content when he saw happy smiles of the citizens - it's been a while since any proper celebration, and the monster rampage last month has been keeping everyone in a gloomy mood, and most importantly - he couldn't betray the trust and confidence his wife put into him.
…right. His wife. The ending to his reputation of the most eligible bachelor (not like he ever cared for the title), and the talk of the town for the past couple of weeks. Diluc Ragnvindr is a rather private man, and upon mutual agreement the wedding was private as well, with only few attending, and those few knew how to keep their mouths shut till the right time came. Or not, since one Cavalry Captain loves getting on the redhead's nerves and spilling some beans to the people who are willing to listen, and then not saying another word to create an intrigue.
So yes, this celebration is also a way to finally introduce the owner of the Dawn Winery's wife to the public, and put an end to all the speculations and maybe seal some lips that spew hatred towards the 'lucky woman', and there are a number of those.
You haven't been taking your eyes off the small group of nobles, standing almost in the middle of the first floor hall, loudly discussing the matter, inevitably drawing the attention of the ones not involved in the conversation, but standing rather close to them.
"I am telling you, she must be some dirty little thing, seducing our poor Master Diluc," the raven-haired tall man claims, elegantly holding a glass of dandelion wine in his long fingers. With his white and black clothes he reminds you of a dalmatian. Barking is almost identical too.
"You are right! She must be some commoner, too ashamed to show her face. If she was of a noble origin, the wedding would be grand and public," ah, and this bear-like looking man… you remember him - he was very active in trying to arrange a marriage of a very uninterested Diluc and his 17-year old daughter. You almost grimace at the thought.
"Oh yes! And we all know, that such well-known and ancient family as Ragnvindrs ought to have one of the noble daughters getting married into it," it is the first time you see this dramatically dressed woman, but even so you would've doubled in boisterous laughter if not the pretty dress Adelinde helped you lace an hour ago, that could potentially be ruined with the drink in your own glass.
You will yourself to tune them off for a moment and check on other guests. It quickly becomes clear that this conversation makes them uncomfortable. Some manage to entertain you though, by making fun of those nobles, parodying the pompous manner of their talking and snickering at that. 
Nevertheless, one shall put an end to this idiocy.
"Afternoon, good sirs and ma'ams," the group direct their gazes at you, approaching them with a polite smile and a glass absent from your hand. "I've caught pieces of your conversation earlier, and couldn't help, but feel concerned."
The derogatory gaze the woman throws your way doesn't go unnoticed, but you simply choose to ignore it.
"Is that so?" The 'Dalmatian' hums, as if condescendingly. "Are you worried about Master Diluc as well, young lady? Such compassion is admirable."
"Oh, I hardly worry about Diluc," some eyes widen at your lack of his title acknowledgement, but you once again ignore it. "I am concerned about you. You know it's bad manners to berate a person in their own house? I'd really advise you to stop talking, especially about the matter you seem to know nothing about. Not to make bigger fools of yourselves at least."
"How dare you-" the woman you haven't heard talking before, but saw her nodding a lot, with those huge feathers in her hair waving with each tilt of her head, starts gasping because of your 'insult'. "How dare you speak to us like that! A servant must stay silent until asked to open their mouth!"
"I am not a servant here, nor anywhere else," the assumption doesn't surprise you, since all the maids were allowed to wear pretty outfits even while doing their job - after all it was a celebration honoring them as well, they help the Winery keep running.
"When who in the Archon's name are you-?"
"Y/n Ragnvindr," a deep soothing voice rings behind you, so loud and clear, that it immediately shuts all the sounds in the room. 
Your lips curl in a wider smile, all the while holding the bewildered gaze of the woman who decided to pick a fight with you.
"Yes, dear?" His chest is now against your back and a hand, clad in a white glove, reaches for yours. "Are you done with welcoming our partners from Liyue?"
"Of course," the back of your hand is brought to his lips to leave a chaste kiss there, and only then you turn your head and catch a dangerous glint in those blood-colored eyes. He is pissed, but neutral face hardly betrays him. "I see we have a problem here."
"Mhm," you hum, not letting go of his hand and looking back at the tensed individuals, who were bad-mouthing you just minutes ago. "It surely isn't how we planned to reveal our marriage, but the situation called for it, I suppose."
"L-lady Ragnvindr, we didn't know-"
"Can these people be escorted out?" Your question interrupts her harshly, making her flinch. "They disturb other guests, and clearly do not know basic rules of respect."
"My dear wife," you can practically feel menace radiating off of his body, and voice dripping with smugness, "no need to ask me. That's your house as much as it's mine, and you contributed so much into organizing this event. So don't be shy to make your own decision."
"Well then," your smile gets even sweeter, contrary to your eyes that burn holes in their distasteful figures, "Get out."
Kaeya
"Hey pretty tits, hic! Argh, you come here often?"
You wouldn't think that a question like this was addressed to you, if the heavily smelling of alcohol man wasn't occupying the bar stool to your right, leaning forward in your direction. You slightly turn your head and suspiciously watch the swinging glass in his trembling hand, half full and threatening to spill the dark liquid. He really had too much tonight.
"...was that supposed to be a compliment?" 
Leaning back to avoid any unfortunate outcome, you give him an unamused look, finished with an arched brow. From the corner of your eye you can't help but notice Charles staring at the man. It is nice to know your good acquaintance doesn't ignore the possible trouble a drunkard can cause another customer.
But you can handle it.
"It was!" He exclaims so happily, childishly proud that you acknowledged the fact. Should you tell him he sucks at it? And that there is only one man whose drunk flirty compliments you'll ever accept, and even in a state like that he would manage to be good, putting a smile on your face? Right now though, the urge to grimace is stronger.
"...thanks," I suppose?. "And yes, I come here often to spend the evening with my partner."
At that his face visibly falls and you turn away, assuming it is enough to cut the conversation short, and concentrate on savoring your first drink of the evening. You ordered it while waiting for one particular Cavalry Captain, and even though it's not strange for him to come later due to astronomically fast piling up paperwork, today he seems to be particularly busy. Maybe you should purchase a bottle and come to his quarters?
Just before you could do just that, there is a hand sliding over your right hip and a hot breath caressing the shell of your ear. You don't even flinch or freeze, recognizing the alluring presence immediately and leaning back into the firmness of his chest.
"You are late, Kaeya."
A soft chuckle and a kiss to the temple make it pretty clear that the azure-haired man cracked your fake rebuke on the spot, knowing that you are not one bit angry at him, but actually really happy to finally have him here.
"I apologize, princess," another kiss, this time to your cheek, "work's been a bit tough. But I am glad to finally be here with my woman."
"Youuurr?"
Ah, you completely forgot about the drunkard to your right.
Turning to look at Kaeya's reaction, you are stricken by the star-shaped pupil gazing right at you - he hasn't even glanced in the other man's direction, instead fixated on you completely. And that is making wonders to your poor heart.
"Who's that, snowflake?" His tone holds curiosity, but you know your lover, and you know when he is ready to be an ass. You shouldn't encourage this, however…
You'd love to see Kaeya Alberich tell the suitor off for you.
"No idea. But he said I have pretty tits."
He hums at that.
"True, but I would've aimed for that delicious butt. I am a simple man, after all."
You barely slap his hand in time, not nearly as drunk to start touching each other right here and right now. At your jab in his ribs he simply laughs heartily, settling his palm back onto your hip and momentarily redirecting his attention to the troublemaker who's been staring at you two throughout the whole exchange.
"You are not from here, are you?"
Only when your lover says that, do you decide to take in the other man's appearance. Indeed, if you were to look longer at him (not like you were interested) it would be easy to guess Fontaine as his land of origin.
"And what?" He straightens his back and puffs his chest as if trying to intimidate. What a rooster. "Does it prevent me from pursuing a pretty woman from another region?"
Oh, so now it's not simply one flirting remark, but a full-blown pursuit? How troublesome.
"Oh no, no, of course not," honey is dripping off those pretty lips, pulled into a smirk. "It's just that otherwise you'd know it's a bad tone to hit on someone's ex-girlfriend."
Confusion appears on the pursuer's face and you look inquiringly at Kaeya as well. The only answer you get is a wink and a mouthed request to order him a drink. Still perplexed, you nevertheless turn to Charles and ask him to make the Cavalry Captain the usual. 
Meanwhile the man pulls his thoughts together.
"It's stupid! If she is your ex, then how does it not give me the right to date her? Ridiculous. Why do you even hold her like that!?"
The shouting gathers attention from other patrons - some were invested almost from the beginning, seeing how that unknown man tried to make a move on you, and snickering behind their mugs of alcohol at his unawareness of your relationship. 
And Kaeya is all for the show. Many eyes watch as an elegant hand wraps around the glass of his favorite drink and brings it to the silent lips. It feels like everyone stopped breathing and the silence is pressuring, like a string ready to snap and reveal some shocking truth. You, on the other hand, roll your eyes at the male's love for theatrics and put an elbow onto the counter and lean your cheek into your open palm. This is going to be crushing, you almost feel sorry for the guy.
When the Cavalry Captain takes the third sip and sighs in delight - then, and only then, - he looks dead into the other man's eyes, so oppressively that he shrinks under the weight of this cold gaze.
"Maybe because she is my wife?"
If it was physically possible, the drunkard's jaw would hit the floor. The glass, he's been holding just seconds ago, however, follows its destiny, breaking from the impact with floorboards and ruining the prolonged silence and earning a grunt from the barman.
"S-she's what?"
"His wife," you raise your hand and show the ring, getting quite tired and wanting to save at least some of this man's dignity. "So, if you could, please, let us two have our date night. Uninterrupted."
Finally it seems to have him sobered up a little and he starts profusely apologizing to you, to Kaeya, to Charles, to Barbatos and Focalors, while digging his porch with mora out to pay for his drinks and minor damage he caused.
When he stumbles outside and the other patrons stop following the drama, you turn to a contently sipping on his wine Kaeya, who is excelling the nastiest grin on his face.
"Ex-girlfriend? Seriously? That's how you call your wife now?"
"Well, technically I am not wrong, right? Since you are not my girlfriend anymore," he shrugs his shoulders, finishing the last few gulps and putting the glass back onto the counter. 
"Then the next time we meet new people I will introduce you as my ex-boyfriend. What? Technically you are," having his own words being thrown into his face makes Kaeya laugh, and he hugs you tightly, kissing the corner of your mouth.
"Deal. But only once, to make it even. I enjoy being called your husband way more."
10K notes · View notes
starstrike · 8 months
Text
Mithrun's desire as an SA analogue
TW discussion of SA and detailed breakdown of aesthetics evoking SA. The way I discuss this is vivid in a way that may be triggering, though there is no discussion of actual sexual assault. Just survivor's responses to it.
People relate to Mithrun and see his condition as an analogue for a few different things, like brain injury or depression. And I think all of them are there. But I also see Mithrun's story as an SA analogue, and Ryoko Kui intentionally evokes those aesthetics. I think it's a part of Mithrun's character that a lot of people miss, but I very much consider it text. This is partially inspired by @heird99's post on what makes this scene so disturbing; so check out their post, too :)
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So to start off with, the demon invades Mithrun's bed, specifically. There's even a canopy around it, which specifically evokes this idea of personal intrusion; the barrier is being pulled apart without consent or warning. The way the hand reaches towards Mithrun's body from outside of the panel division makes it almost look like the goat stroking over his body. It's an especially creepy visual detail; similarly, the goat's right hand parts into the side of the panel as well. It's literally like it's tearing the page apart; but gently. So gently.
Mithrun is in bed. It is his bed that the demon is intruding on. He's in a position of intimacy. The woman behind him is a facsimile of his "beloved" that he left behind; the woman who, in reality, chose Mithrun's brother. He is in bed with his fantasy lover, who is leaning over him. While this scene isn't explicitly sexual, it is intimate. And it is being invaded. The goat lifts Mithrun gently, who is confused, but not yet struggling.
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The erotics of consumption and violence in Ryoko Kui's work(remember that the word 'erotic' can have many different meanings, please) are a... notable part of some of her illustrations. I would say she blurs the lines between all forms of desire: personal, sexual, gustatory and carnal, in her illustrations in order to emphasize the pure desire she wants to work with and evoke to serve her themes. Kui deploys sexual imagery in a lot of places in Dungeon Meshi, and this is one of them.
In this case, horrifically. The goat's assault begins with drooling, licking, and nuzzling. The goat could be enjoying and "playing with" its food. But it can also be interpreted as it "preparing" Mithrun with its tongue as it begins to literally breach Mithrun's body. The goat also invades directly through his clothing; that adds another level of disturbing to me. There's nothing Mithrun can do in this moment of violation. Mithrun is fighting, but he is fighting weakly, trying to grip on and push away when he has no ability or option to. All he can do is beg the goat to stop. And it doesn't care. This all evokes sexual assault.
The sixth panel demonstrates a somewhat sexual position, with Mithrun's thighs spread around the goat's hunched over body. In the next, the goat pulls and holds apart Mithrun's thighs as he nuzzles into him. The way the clothing bunches up looks a bit as if it has been pushed up. It has pinned Mithrun down onto the bed, into Mithrun's soft furs and pillows. It takes a place made to be supernaturally warm and comfortable, and violates it. It's utterly and intimately horrifying. To me, this sequence of positions directly evokes a rape scene. I think Kui did this very explicitly. These references to sexual invasion are part of what makes this scene so disturbing; albeit, to many viewers, subconsciously.
This is also the moment the goat takes Mithrun's eye. Other than this, the goat seems exceptionally strong, but also... gentle. It holds Mithrun's body tightly, but moves it around slowly. It doesn't need to hurt Mithrun physically. But in that moment, it takes Mithrun's eye. Blood seeps from a wound while an orifice that should not be pierced is penetrated. This moment, the ooze of blood in one place specifically, also evokes rape. That single bit of physical gore is a very powerful bit of imagery to me.
Finally; it is Mithrun's desire that is eaten. After his assault, Mithrun can find no pleasure in things that he once did. He is fully disassociated from his emotions. This is a common response to trauma, especially in the case of SA. It's not uncommon for people to never, or take a long time to, enjoy sex in the same way again; or at all. They might feel like their rapist has robbed them of a desire and pleasure they once had. I think this makes Mithrun's lack of desire a partial analogue for the trauma of sexual assault.
Mithrun's desire for revenge was, supposedly, all that remained. Anger at his assaulter, anger at every being that was like it; though, perhaps not anger. Devotion, in a way. To his cause. I don't know. But the immediate desire to seek revenge is another response to SA. But on to Mithrun's true feelings on the matter.
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This is... So incredibly tragic. Mithrun feels used up. Like his best parts have been taken away. Like he's being... tossed aside. This certainly parallels the way assault victims can feel after being left by an abuser. Or the way assault victims feel they might be "ruined" forever for other partners. These are common sentiments for survivors to carry, and need to overcome. In the text, it's almost like Mithrun feels the only being who can desire him is a demon who might "finish devouring" him. That that's his only use. It's worth noting that Mithrun trusted the demon. Mithrun's world was built by the demon, and Mithrun, in that way, was cared for by the demon. I think this reinforces Mithrun's place as a victim.
There's also something to be said about Mithrun as a victim of his own possessive romantic and sexual desire. The mirror shows him his beloved just dining with his brother, and it infuriates him. He doesn't know if the vision is real, nor if she has really chosen his brother as a romantic partner. The goat then creates a whole fantasy world where she loves him. As Mithrun's dungeon deteriorates, she is the only person that continues to exist. Mithrun continues to have control over her. And that is the strongest desire the demon is eating, isn't it? There's something interesting there, but I don't know what to say about it.
In conclusion, I think Mithrun's story is an explicit analogue for sexual assault-- though, certainly, among other things! The way the scene plays out and is composed explicitly references sexual violation and invasion of the body. His condition mirrors common trauma responses to sexual violence. And, at the end, he finally realizes he can recover.
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Let's end on a happy Mithrun, after taking the first step on his journey to recovery :) You aren't vegetable scraps Mithrun. But even if you were-- every single thing in this world has value. Even vegetable scraps.
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sashiavi · 4 months
Note
imagine big boy diluc… like VERY HUGE!!1!1!!1 his beautiful thick arms are bigger than ur head, his tummy, his thighs, his ass, HIS TITS FBWNBDKWNDKW idk i have always hc him as big and hairy, it really suits him (in my opinion) and jesus my heart hurts when i imagine fucking him sooo good 😭😔😔😔😭😭😭😔😔
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♡ Genshin Impact Big Boys ♡ Ughh you're sooo right- big boy Diluc please rearrange my guts ! ! Diluc needs to be built like Gallagher from hsr !
I've had this idea of him just rOTTING in my notes for genuinely over a year now- was waiting for someone to say it 😩
Warnings : 18+ Smut | Size Difference | Detailed body descriptions (we're analysing this man today)
Hope you enjoy ♡♡
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BigBoy!Diluc with his sleeves rolled up, dark hair on his arms on display from elbow to wrist. Forearms thick and veiny- so fucking strong, throwing you around with ease.
BigBoy!Diluc with his large hands, so warm and tough, bigger than your face. Imagining his palms caressing over your skin, sucking in the heat from his fingers. Archons his fingers, thick, long and calloused and yet still so pretty. Perfect for suckling and choking on them, sobbing when he finger fucks your pretty pussy.
BigBoy!Diluc who eats well, of course he does, with all that luxury and money. He's not as lean as he used to be, when he was the Cavalry Captain for the Knights of Favonious, but Gods was he still strong. Wielding that heavy claymore with ease, carrying stock boxes for the Tavern, effortlessly fucking you in the air, held up by just his hands.
BigBoy!Diluc with strong, broad shoulders, big back and biceps, filled out with thick muscle. Gods his chest- Pectorals filled out with fat and muscle, decorated in delicate freckles and moles and a decent patch of hair on his sternum - Pretty pink nipples sealing the deal.
BigBoy!Diluc with a little bit of a tummy, soft love handles barely peaking over his trousers, still packed with hard muscle, cushioned with a bit of fluff. Perfect for grabbing, pulling his hips towards your own.
BigBoy!Diluc with his hairy belly, leading down down into his pants, happy trail framing his tummy and torso perfectly.
BigBoy!Diluc with his thick thighs, perfect for you to sit on, snuggled in his lap like a lapdog. Perfect for you to straddle and ride, big, warm hands on your hips guiding you to hump on him like a puppy.
BigBoy!Diluc with his large, broad nose, always jabbing and nudging into your perfect pretty clit while he tongue fucks your pussy. His crimson eyes looking up at you from behind the arched bridge of his nose, drunk and bleary, teeth nearly accidentally biting into the soft flesh of your cunt.
BigBoy!Diluc and his fat cock. Thick and pudgy, angry, flushed pink tip oozing globs of pre down his shaft. Gods, his cock. Pulsing and flexing, pretty veins accenting his richly thick length. Heavy shaft bobbing with arousal, struggling to stand tall from its weight.
BigBoy!Diluc with his heavy breeder balls, perfectly accented by his thick thighs. Groomed but still hairy, perfectly pairing with his droopy, heavy cock.
BigBoy!Diluc who has stamina. Fucking up your pussy over and over, holding his warm hand on your tummy, over that thick belly bulge the pudgy head of his cock stabs into you.
BigBoy!Diluc who can easily take all those scratches, teethy kisses, the crescent moons of your nails digging into his back.
BigBoy!Diluc putting pants on in the morning, bare back covered in old scars and new nail scratches. He can barely shuck them on, hindered by the heavy swell of his cock and the thick of his ass.
BigBoy!Diluc who brushes your hair out of your face with his thick fingers, palm rested on your temple, oh so warm in the morning chill.
BigBoy!Diluc with his pretty smile, kissing a soft goodbye on your forehead with his plump lips.
BigBoy!Diluc who will be back later, wrapping you up in the comfiest hug, huge arms wrapped around your body, strength lifting you in a silly twirl, lips peppering hot kisses all on your face.
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2neaky · 26 days
Text
ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚𝚄𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙽𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚕𝚎𓍼ོ.𓍢ִ໋
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𝓜𝓓𝓝𝓘 ☆ 𝓦𝓐𝓡𝓝𝓘𝓝𝓖𝓢 - reader is aroused from getting a tattoo (soft core) / Eren x Blackreader | mini drabble—working thru a writing slump so bear w. me on these shorter fics, enjoy <3
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Over a hundred times per second, thousands of times per minute—the needle keeps hitting delicate skin.
Sometimes it breaks, leaving droplets of blood in its wake. Other times, it’s just strong enough to withstand the attack, leaving the skin raw and swollen.
‘It’s probably red,’ she thinks as her thighs clench around the chair.
There’s a moment of clarity; The needle has been lifted.
“You good?”
His voice almost makes her shiver.
Her closed eyes squeeze together.
“Mhm.”
She hears him moving around some tools behind her. “Use your words.”
“Yeah…”
Low, green eyes bore into the back of her head, watching closely.
From their first meeting, she could tell that Eren was an ‘all-about-the-details’ kind of man. Analytical, almost to a fault (noting the times he’s kept her in his chair longer than needed, just to perfect a tattoo). She doesn’t appreciate him any less for it.
Yet, she’s burning up under his stare. She almost wishes he would look away, as stupid as that sounds.
“Tell me when you need a break.”
She nods and turns her head to the side to rest against the headrest, eyes still closed.
“𓊆ྀི⋆˖ ⭑˚⊹𓊇ྀི.”
Soft mink lashes blink as she peels her eyes open to look at him—as best as she can from this angle, anyway.
“Tell me.”
He’s a soft-talker, quiet most times. But the added edge to his voice at times just gets her.
Usually, she laughs it off, making a joke about him. It makes it easier to ignore the way his tone fires her up.
She can’t laugh this time.
Her body inches up higher against the back of the chair, her wide hips do a meager half-drag against it.
Why did she wear jeans?
“Okay.”
The whine of her voice almost alarms him. His gaze lingers on her for seconds more as his mind replays the way her full lips twitched into a pout.
He saves an apology to continue his work.
The second the needle touches her skin, her spine tenses beneath his hand. It isn’t so much of a big movement that he has to take a pause. Just a tiny shift beneath the skin. Still, he notices it.
He also notices the restless sway of her right knee every time he lifts the needle. And how her hips keep anchoring down against the seat. Even how her breathing picks up.
During their first ever session, he wondered why she would never tap out for breaks. But, it’s too obvious that she enjoys more than she should. Even when she tries to hide it.
A breath of amusement leaves through his nose.
The needle trickles half an inch lower, closer towards one of her back dimples. He applies more force behind the gun.
Her eyes roll back shut. Her arms shield her face, keeping him from seeing her tug her bottom lip between her teeth.
A stifled whimper sneaks out.
“This is gonna be a long one,” he mutters.
He doesn’t lift the needle.
It’s getting harder and harder for her to keep still. She releases her bottom lip and it trembles.
Eren glances up at her and presses a little harder. The sting reaches deeper.
Her lips part as her face pulls together.
“I’m almost done, you could hold out.”
A tiny mewl slips from her. It’s soft and broken, so unlike her strong, brazen attitude.
Something in his chest drops; It free-falls down his stomach and to his dick. He lifts the gun with a sigh.
His breath fans against the raw skin of her back. She shivers as her hips twitch against the chair again.
“Good job.”
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sleepiexx · 15 days
Text
Something He’d Overheard
James Potter x fem!Reader
Note: I’ve been in the marauders fandom for over 7 years now, I think it’s high time I write a fic for it. Part of my efforts to branch out into writing for more fandoms than COD.
Summary: James finds himself head over heels when he sees you defending a first year student.
Warnings: some curse words here and there, bullying mention, overall rlly soft
Word Count: 1151
After countless fictional characters and random strangers on the street with pretty faces catching his burning ire, anyone who knew James Potter knew good and well that he was a lover. He had long believed in love at first sight, merely seeing someone eye-catching often sparked thoughts of budding romance, fantasies of how they would love and what their relationship would look like amongst other things. Soulmates and fate were a big concept to him too, for example his favorite book character, a headstrong witch who was kind and brilliant, well James had a hunch that in another life they were lovers.
He’d fallen in love just about a million times, and yet something about you was different.
You had caught James’ eye one day as he made the trek to the library to collect his good friend Remus for their group’s usual night’s worth of mischief. Your beautiful eyebrows were pinched together in anger, a sneer on your pretty lips, your voice was loud and firm as you scolded one of the usual culprits (a death eater in the making) for bullying a defenseless first year student.
Your hand clutched your wand intently as you damn near hissed the words, “you wanna try picking on someone who can actually fight back?”
They let out a scoff and left the scene, leaving you, the first year, and unbeknownst to you, James.
The switch between standoffishness and caring came like whiplash. Your tensed frame relaxed as you knelt down in front of the first year (those eleven year olds seemed to be growing shorter and shorter every year). Your dominant hand reached out and gently wiped away the younger child’s tears.
“Everything he said is bullshit,” you began, “he’s angry at the world, looking for someplace to fit in, and unfortunately it’s really easy to fall into the wrong crowd. You haven’t, and he’s jealous of that.”
The kid sniffled, pout still indented firmly on their little lips, “who would be jealous of me?”
You shook your head in disbelief, “plenty of people! You have a gift that a large part of the world’s population doesn’t possess, that’s something to be proud of no matter what other witches and wizards try to tell you. Heck, I’m even jealous of you.”
As you spoke a smile crept its way on the first year’s face, “you are?” They asked.
“Yeah, I am!” You nodded, “you’ve got six and a half more years left at Hogwarts to have fun and run about the castle, I only have another year and a half.”
“This place is pretty cool,” they muttered.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Your face lit up and you stood to your feet, offering the small child your hand so you could walk them back to their common room. You’d never seen the awe-stricken onlooker, but the scene was now burned into James’ mind.
It followed him to the library, where he convinced Remus to follow him to their other friends, a long walk that Remus spent listening to James drone on and on about you. It followed him to his dorm that night, and every other night for weeks leaving the marauders to know every single detail about you. And it most especially followed him to each of the classes you had together where James would stare at you and admire your appearance while daydreaming about you.
It was the third time that week that the scene had followed him to the lunch table when Sirius slammed his palms on the table, “I’m putting an end to this nonsense right now. You either talk to her, Prongs, or I will. And trust me, you won’t like how in depth I will go about those daydreams you’ve been having where-“
Sirius couldn’t even finish his sentence with how fast James jumped in, “alright, alright! I have potions with her next, I’ll talk to her, I swear.”
The statement leaves the marauders satiated in conversation as they finish up their lunch and head to their classes.
In potions, James nearly decides to abandon ship, facing a new anxiety he’d never experienced before when dealing with a girl. He decides that maybe it would be best to keep to himself, too afraid to stumble on his words and make a fool of himself in front of such a pretty girl. All this is until Professor Slughorn proclaims that today’s assignment requires a partner. If there ever was a time to shoot his shot, it’s now.
He takes deep breaths, adjusting his posture and forcing his every step to radiate confidence before he reaches you, “I was wondering if maybe you’d like to be my partner?”
You smile, “I’d love to! Fair warning, though, I’m not the best at potions.”
James bursts out into a giddy grin, “I’m willing to pick up the slack.”
“Unfortunately, I bet I’ll make you eat your words,” nonetheless you collect the ingredients as James collects the supplies.
When everything is together, James reads off the instructions. You follow them with great care, not wanting to make a fool of yourself in front of your new, devilishly handsome potions partner.
You make to slice open one of the ingredients, as the instructions called for, but your knife slips, sending the damned thing hurdling straight towards your face. You close your eyes, bracing yourself for an impact that never comes, reopening them only to be met with the sight of the back of James’ hand.
“Holy shit,” you curse, “did you just catch that?”
James nods, almost surprised at himself.
You shake your head in disbelief, “if you weren’t such a good chaser, I’d suggest you take up seeking.”
Your statement renews James’ confidence, so you’d noticed him too?
“Can I show you how to cut it?” He asks, a smile on his face.
You nod, watching his hands intently, confused when he disappears behind you. You quickly piece together what’s happening when he grabs your hands with his own, handing you the knife and positioning you so that you slice through the ingredient like it’s nothing.
“Great job!” James praises, even though it was him that had done all the work.
You still take the compliment, grinning from ear to ear as he tosses the final ingredient into the potion, creating the rich purple color you were striving for, “we make a really good team, Potter.”
“Oh yeah?” He asks, “well what do you say we see if we make as good of a couple?” You feel blood rush to your cheeks, James further clarifies “Hogsmeade this weekend? Just you and me?”
And you nod eagerly, “I would love that.”
If Sirius thought James asking you out would be the solution to him raving on and on about you all hours of the day, he was sorely mistaken and he was about to figure that out as soon as James stepped into the common room.
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patchiko · 8 months
Note
GIVE US MORE ABOUT NSFW AL JAYYY PLSSS
HRHSJSGAHS OKOK!!
NSFW Arkham Knight / Ak!Jason Todd !! <3
detailed smut !!
(wet dream, praise, soft sex 2 somewhat rough sex, not super long, , im so obsessed with his brain)
rq are open :3
‘tis under the cut!! :p
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M’SO EXCITED TO WRITE MORE ABT HIM M’SHAKING AND THROWIFN UP
NGL, i think one of the only reason he would come to terms with liking someone is bc he had a wet dream…
listen,, 99% of his dreams are nightmares, and you just changed his fuckin statistics for the possibility to the 1% chance of him coming in his sleep and being able to rest well after.
he has mixed feeling abt this..
on one hand hes like ‘wow cool i get to sleep well,’ but on the other hands hes like staring at his boxers and hes like ‘but at what cost…’
but oh,, he just knew he was fucked when it first happened and he woke up
after many , many years of overthinking, and his mind not being able to shut up … the thing that made his ass get so quiet was a fuckin’ wet dream
uuhhggrr it was such a good one tooo (hes internally cringing so hard)
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ONE hand in his hair, softly rubbing his scalp, the other massaging his shoulder to the base of his neck. Jason has both hands on your hips. Being so gentle yet passionate with each thrust, fighting back the nastiest sounds begging to leave his mouth. So he starts kissing you, open mouth kissing your jaw to just between where your neck and shoulders connect. The noises you start letting out make his breathing stutter for a second. His kissing gets more passionate, soft sucking at your skin, and he’s feverishly rubbing and grabbing at your hips.
The wet sounds of him fucking you get louder. Poor guy is just barely stopping himself from rutting into you. His strokes were slowly getting more rapid but nonetheless coordinated, hitting that spot that had you loudest. Jason was marginally coherent but he’s still trying his hardest to make you feel good. Your body returning the favor by squeezing him so lovingly and he just cant fight back the soft gasps he lets out in between his strokes. The wet sounds, the lewd noises, the details of your body and skin he felt every time he pushed into you. All of this just because of him, just for him? You babble to him how good he was doing, murmuring how good it feels between moans, and it has him gripping your hips.
JASONS rocking himself roughly into you, but its that ever so loving hand, still gently massaging his neck and scalp. That sensation has his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Soft curses leaving his mouth. He buries his face right next to your head and has to grab the bed sheets just for an last attempt to stay composed. But the moaning gets louder, and you don’t stop gently massaging his hair.
So he can’t stop the “mmh, mmh, mmh” ‘s leaving his mouth with every rapid push of himself. He can’t stop the way his hands trail down to your legs to spread you wider for him. Grabbing at your thighs as he fucks himself through.
N’ just as he cums with a breathy gasp, his eyelashes are fluttering and eyes rolling to the back of his head. Letting his body weight press onto you and closing his eyes shut, trying to control his stammered breaths,,
he fuckin’ wakes up..!
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First thought was “what the fuck.”
genuinely startled, he doesn’t freak out bad but he like slowly reaches to touch his pillow.
his mind was so blank, couldn’t tell if it was because of the wet spot on his sweatpants or he was genuinely so stunned.
*hes like scratching his head and looking at his pants.*
hes goes to take a shower and his eyes are so blown out he looks like one of those cat memes
but his mind is soo quiet,,
in my brain at the very back of his mind he’s like ‘whys there so much of it.’ HSIGSISHSISHSIDHS HES COMPLETELY SERIOUS TOO???
he’s taking a shower and his brain, oddly, isn’t foggy, not dissociating, just feels so here.
which is horrible because that means he really has to directly face his feelings
KRILLING MYSELF WHY IS HEART TO HEART PLAYING WHILE I WRITE THIS???
heart to heart, heart to heart, heart to heart <3
Next time he sees you he feels so odd, he knows it a natural thing that can happen.. but it was so
djsksnkdnd
tingling under his skin sensation is yelling at him to leave, and he does.
hes cringing
he likes you…
he cringes harder
ghosts you for awhile
realistically doesn’t want anything like that to happen ANYTIME soon
but is it weird that he kinda wants it to happen at all?
MENTAL GYMNASTICS COMMENCE !!
but when he stops ghosting you for awhile, and comes back to see you still being just as patient as you were every time you saw him before,
arms always open for him, food waiting for him, a sweet smile. and with your own patience, his own patience begins to thin.
Everytime he leaves you its a little harder for him to not come back
that tingly feeling under his skin slowly becomes a craving for just your presence. thats all he wants.
he doesn’t need to fuck you when he just has your eyes on him.
“what you run from is what you end up chasing.”
live footage of arkham knights brain cells falling for u insta reel
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TEEHEE i loved writing this it was so fun, rq/inbox is open !! feedback is always appreciated >:3
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mydearlybeloathed · 8 months
Text
── 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏
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𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you just can't get to sleep thanks to a terrible rainstorm terrorizing the ship. luckily, your tossing and turning inspired nami with an idea: just go sleep with the swordsman.
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: roronoa zoro x fem!reader
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1k
don' ask about the aesthetic k? k 💙
𝐎𝐏 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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With how the hail storm rattled against the hull of the ship, and how the vessel careened on the waves, you were at a loss as to how Nami was fast asleep already.
The crew had settled down for sleep hours ago, the laughter and teasing from dinner falling into a soft silence draping over each and every one of you—well, except you, that is.
Even after months at sea, the incessant rocking had you curling into yourself, headache blooming under the skin of your temples. Groaning, you rolled around on your sheets, burying your face in your pillow as you shoved the blanket off your shoulders and down your body. Chill air hit you instantly, a contrast to the sweat rising from your skin. All you wanted was sleep, but your ears rang with the sound of rainfall and the far off thunder rumbling through the sky.
You tossed and turned again and again, rest ever so far away and the sway of the Going Merry making kept your mind alert with all its tilts and jumps. Yet another grunt of frustration huffed from your lips, and Nami finally sprang up, glaring at you from across the cabin.
“What’s wrong?” she demanded, her eyes heavy and her annoyance high.
Great. Now Nami was upset, which usually lasted a whole day if you were unlucky. You didn’t bother turning back to look at her, digging yourself deeper into your blanket. “Sorry…”
She sighed and rubbed at her cheek, gaze drifting over your exhausted form, taking in what she could in the dark. Settling back down, Nami said what she’d been thinking for the past two hours of listening to you loll around restlessly. “Just go sleep with Zoro.”
A beat passed, your eyes slowly opening as you tried to convince yourself you’d heard her wrong. You flipped around and gaped at the girl slinking into her sheets with a smirk you would catch through any dark room. “What? Why would I—Why would you—Nami!”
She chuckled darkly, her bright eyes finding yours. Nami propped her head up on her hand. “It wouldn’t be the first time, right?”
Trying and failing to make a comeback, you opened and closed your mouth like a gaping fish, settling on crossing your arms over your chest. “That’s none of your business.”
“Uh-huh,” she drawled. “But I’ve got dawn watch and am in desperate need of sleep.” All you did was stare at her, your glare fading. Nami rolled onto her back, offering into the silence, “It’s not like he’ll turn you away.”
You tried so very hard to let her logic roll off your shoulders, but it was cold (Zoro was warm) and you were tired (Zoro was a good napping buddy). As appealing as the idea was, you didn’t want to bother him. Zoro was probably just getting back from his night watch, Sanji heading up to the deck in his wake. Zoro wouldn’t turn you away, but he might grumble at you, and sometimes that was worse.
“Stop overthinking,” Nami’s voice whispered through a hiss. “He likes you.”
She was just trying to give you heart palpitations saying stuff like that. “Does not.”
“Mhmm. Get some sleep… with Zoro.”
You threw your pillow across the room, missing her bed by a longshot. You could throw pillows and shout whispered words at her all you wanted—it didn’t change that she had a point.
It wouldn’t be the first time you crawled into Zoro’s hammock late at night, seeking shelter from sleeplessness that seemed to miraculously melt in his embrace. Nami might’ve been right; Zoro might like you, at least more than he liked anybody else. It was confusing most days, but your mind was so mushy with fatigue you didn’t bother running over the finer details of your affections for the swordsman.
You puffed out a huff, eliciting a growl from the dark, “Go. Or neither of us will sleep.”
“Fine.” You threw off your blanket and marched out of the cabin before you could lose your nerve, trudging through the nearly pitch black hall of the Merry. 
You yelped as you tripped over a discarded broom, cursing into the night as you kicked it aside and kept on toward the boy’s cabin. As soon as you laid eyes on the closed door, your footsteps faltered, heart stuttering. 
The ship leaned on the waves and sent you teetering into the wall, and the decision was suddenly easy. You inched the door open gently, wincing at the momentary creak, and slipped inside. 
The boys’ cabin always had a… unique scent to it. Somewhere between burning socks and musk is how Nami described it. Honestly (now, you would never tell her this), you just thought it smelled like Zoro. Though Zoro might’ve been slightly less odorous on good days, you mused.
The swordsman of your infatuation lay in a swaying hammock tied up between two support beams holding up the ceiling. A flash of lightning illuminated his peaceful face for a brief moment, and the room was back to black. 
Collecting your wits, you approached him slowly, careful not to step on any of the clutters the boys left lying about. Lip pinched between your teeth, you stepped around a crate of slingshot ammo Usopp had crafted, catching your foot on the slingshot itself and jumping out of the way. 
You swept the room fretfully, yet no one stirred, the usual snores rising and falling. A sigh puffed form your chest as you turned back to Zoro’s hammock, only to lock eyes with the stoic swordsman as he gazed blearily up at you.
Lurching back, you calmed your racing heart and huffed at him. “You scared me.”
Zoro leaned up on his elbows, confused. “You scared me.” His gaze flickered all over your face. “What’re you doing?”
You fisted your hands, feeling like a deer at headlights, and blurted, “Nami kicked me out.”
Zoro’s brows drew instantly. “What?” He rose halfway when you hand found his chest, gently pushing him back down.
“I mean,” you amended. “I couldn’t sleep, and she got tired of me rolling around…” Bashful in how you averted your eyes, swaying on your feet, “I… sleep better with you. Y’know?”
Not even a second later he tugged on your arm to draw you closer, shuffling over to offer you some room. You smiled softly, falling into the space beside him, molding right into his side. “Yeah, I know.”
Your face warmed, your heart swelled, and you rested your head on the rigid outline of his shoulder, adjusting to find a comfortable place. Zoro’s arm slid under you and curled you further into his side, a sigh pulling from his chest, his muscles literally relaxing under each of your touches. 
There wasn’t a name for what you and Zoro were, not yet anyway, and somehow you were fine with that. He was there, and you were there, and that felt like enough. For now, you let your eyes finally give way to exhaustion, the pelting of the rain growing fainter and fainter. 
Nami was a tease, but she made some good points a lot of the time. You’d have to thank her in the morning, after you finally got to sleep in the arms of your swordsman.
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hellokittyyyysblog · 2 months
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𝓟𝓻𝓸𝓶𝓲𝓼𝓮 𝓂𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓂𝑒
Pairing: natasha romanoff x reader
Summary: A slow morning with Natasha ends with a surpising twist.
Warnings: smut
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﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌𓆩♡𓆪﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
The early morning light streamed softly through the gauzy curtains, casting a warm, golden glow over the room. You stirred slightly, the faint weight of sleep still lingering as you slowly opened your eyes—your head nestled on Natasha's chest. The rhythm of her breathing—steady and hypnotic, lulled you into a deeper sense of calm. Her arm was draped around you, soft yet firm, keeping you in place—not like you were planning to move anytime soon, anyway.
As you lay there, the world outside began its slow awakening, but within the room, time seemed suspended. The soft rustling of the curtains in the faint morning breeze mingled with the gentle hum of Natasha's breath, bringing goosebumps on your bare skin.
Your mind wandered through the delicate intricacies of the moment, savoring every detail—you wanted it to last forever.
Natasha, the woman who faces the world with unyielding resilience, who stands tall in the face of adversity, now lies here beside you, her guard lowered, her essence laid bare. It’s a sight that humbles you, fills you with an overwhelming sense of gratitude and wonder.
You cherished these rare moments when the weight of Natasha's usual obligations and responsibilities melted away, allowing you both to simply lie in bed together. She was often engrossed in training new recruits or whisked away on clandestine missions across the globe, while your own demanding work kept you occupied.
Over the past seven years of your relationship, this routine had become familiar, even though it wasn't without its challenges initially. Yet now, as you lay enveloped in her embrace, nothing mattered anymore, nothing but her.
The light played upon her features, casting soft shadows that accentuated the peacefulness of her expression.
The graceful curve of her collarbone emerges from the delicate neckline of the sheets, a gentle slope that leads your eyes to the subtle hollow at the base of her throat. You trace the line of her jaw with your eyes, noting the elegant precision of its angle, the way it frames her face with an understated strength.
Every detail of her is etched into your mind, an intricate tapestry of impressions that you find yourself constantly unraveling. You can't get enough of her—the way her hair falls in loose tendrils across the pillow, the gentle flutter of her eyelids as she dreams, the almost imperceptible curve of her lips that hints at contentment. She looks so peaceful, so soft, so utterly yours in this moment—that it almost feels like a dream.
There’s a profound intimacy in watching her like this, an almost sacred act of witnessing her in her most unguarded state. It’s as if the universe has conspired to give you this moment, this perfect slice of time where everything else fades away, leaving only the two of you in the quiet aftermath of night.
Every fiber of your being yearned for her. The desire to kiss her overwhelmed you, ached within you, begging for release. She was right there, so close—and your longing felt like a physical ache, a visceral need. You wanted her to feel how deeply you adored everything about her.
"I can feel you staring" Natasha's voice broke the silence, low and teasing—her voice warm and husky with sleep; whilst her lips curved into a small smile even with her eyes still closed.
Caught, you smile back, your fingers absently tracing circles on her skin. "How could I not? You're breathtaking, even when you’re just waking up"
Her eyes open, a glint of amusement and something deeper shining through the green. "Flattery will get you nowhere" she murmurs, her fingers playing with a strand of your hair.
You chuckle softly, the sound vibrating through the tranquil morning air. "Good, because I intend to stay right here."
"Well, aren't you sweet this morning?"
You lean in and press a gentle kiss to her lips. "I can't help it" you say, your voice filled with affection. "You make me feel this way."
She laughs softly, her fingers brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. "I guess I'm doing something right then"
"You're doing everything right" you assure her, your voice sincere, filled with love and admiration for the woman lying in front of you.
Natasha raises an eyebrow, her lips quirking into a smirk. "And here I thought you were just using me for my bed"
You laugh, the sound mingling with the quiet morning. "Well, your bed is quite comfortable. But I think I prefer the company and….the orgasms" you said as a soft grin appeared on your face.
"Smooth" she says, her hand slipping down to your back, tracing patterns on your bare skin.
Her smile softens, a hint of something more serious in her eyes. "Morning" you murmur as you move to lie on top of her.
“Morning detka” she says kissing your forehead.
"Hmm, how about we spend the day in bed?" you say placing small kisses on her neck.
She rolls her eyes, but the smile on her lips betrays her amusement. "As tempting as that sounds, im not spending New Year’s Eve in bed”
You nuzzle into her neck, pressing a kiss to her collarbone. "Fine, fine. But you can't blame a woman for trying."
"I suppose not"
You shift slightly, your fingers playing with the edge of the sheet. "You know, I think I might just stay in bed all day. I have everything I need right here."
Natasha arches an eyebrow, her smirk widening. "Oh? And what exactly do you need?"
"Well, there's the bed, of course. And the pillows. And this incredibly attractive woman lying under me."
Natasha laughs, her eyes sparkling. "You're such a flirt"
You lean in, brushing your lips against hers. "Can you blame me?"
As you pull back, you notice Natasha's gaze lingering on you, her expression growing more intense. Her eyes trace the contours of your face with an unreadable emotion, and you feel a shiver run down your spine.
"Stop looking at me like that"
Natasha's lips curl into a slow smile, her gaze never wavering. "Oh, so you're allowed to watch me sleep like a creep, but I can't?"
You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks, but you laugh it off. “Touché” you said before pulling her closer, your lips finding hers in a soft, lingering kiss.
Her hands, which had been at your sides, impatiently find their way back to your hair, pulling you further into the kiss—Your lips entwined in such a frenzy that escalated with each passing moment, harder with each kiss, as if time itself was slipping away.
It was the kind of kiss that stirs up a desire to go a little crazy—one that tells you to let go of control, of cold reason, and succumb to the moment. She was warm and soft against you—yet demanding, and her hunger matched yours with an eager tongue, a flame that set your core ablaze and made your head dizzy, that twisted your stomach into a messy tangle of butterflies.
She pulls back, resting her forehead against yours, her hand finding yours and intertwining your fingers.
"You okay?" you ask—your brow furrowing with concern.
She hesitates, then nods. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... thinking."
"About what?" you press gently, sensing there's more she wants to say.
She takes a deep breath, her gaze shifting away from you. "About us"
Your heart races, wondering where this conversation is headed. "Yeah? what about us?"
"It's just...sometimes I worry."
You lift your head to look at her more closely. "Worry about what?"
She looks back at you, her eyes filled with a mix of love and uncertainty. "I've spent so much of my life on the run, always looking over my shoulder, always fighting. With you, I've found something I never thought I'd have—a sense of peace, of home. And that scares me."
You feel a lump forming in your throat, the gravity of her words sinking in. "You're everything to me" you whisper, your voice filled with sincerity. "And I'll always fight for us. No matter what."
She takes a deep breath, her eyes meeting yours with an intensity that makes your pulse quicken. "I need to know that you're as committed to this—to us, as I am."
“I am” you say with a loving smile “I’ve been for the past seven years.”
Your heart pounds as she reaches over to the nightstand—she retrieves a small object, keeping it hidden in her hand, a small almost shy smile painting her lips.
"What is it, Natty?"
She bites her lip, a rare sign of vulnerability. "I... I've been thinking a lot lately about what I want for my future. About what we want."
You nod—confused, encouraging her to continue. "And what do you want?"
She takes another deep breath, her eyes searching yours with a mixture of fear and hope. Your eyes widen as she holds out her hand, revealing a simple, elegant ring. The sight of it takes your breath away, and you can see the raw emotion in her gaze.
"Marry me" she says, her voice cracking with emotion. "I need to know that you’ll be with me, always"
For a moment, time seems to stand still.
The world around you fades away, and all you can see is Natasha, her eyes filled with love and vulnerability. You feel a rush of emotions, your heart swelling with an overwhelming sense of joy.
Tears well up in your eyes, and you nod, unable to speak for a moment.
“Is that supposed to be a yes?”
"Yes, Natasha,yes, yes a hundred times” you say as you pull her into a tight embrace, both of you laughing and crying at the same time. In that moment, everything feels perfect. The past doesn't matter, and the future is full of promise.
A radiant smile spreads across her face, and you can see the relief and happiness in her eyes. She slips the ring onto your finger with shaky hands, and you both laugh softly at the shared nerves and excitement.
“Romanoff, huh?” she murmurs, her fingers tracing circles on your hips.
You blink, your mind still a little hazy from the intensity of the momen. “What do you mean?” you ask, genuinely puzzled.
Natasha's smile widens, and she gives a soft, teasing laugh. “Oh, you didn’t catch that, did you?” she says, her voice dripping with amusement. “We did just get engaged, after all. Or did you forget already?”
Your heart skips a beat as realization dawns on you. The ring on your finger glints in the morning light, a tangible reminder of the life-changing question she asked you just moments ago. You’re engaged to Natasha Romanoff.
“I… well, I guess I’m still processing” you stammer, feeling a mix of excitement and disbelief. “You just asked me to marry you”
Natasha chuckles, her hands sliding up to rest on your waist. “And you said yes” she points out, her eyes twinkling. “So, technically, that makes you the future Mrs. Romanoff.”
You laugh, the sound bubbling up from deep within you. “I kind of like the sound of that” you admit, feeling a blush spread across your cheeks.
“Good” Natasha says, her voice dropping to a low, intimate whisper. “Because I love the sound of it.”
You roll your eyes playfully, but you can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips.
You grin, leaning in to press a kiss to her neck.
Natasha's fingers trace lazy patterns on your skin, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "And…" she begins, her voice filled with playful affection, "I'm going to have to start calling you Mrs. Romanoff now."
You chuckle, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. "I suppose you will" you reply, your voice teasing.
Natasha smirks, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I think I'll enjoy that" she says, her fingers brushing against your lips. "Especially since it means you're all mine."
"Oh, is that how it works?" you tease back. "You put a ring on my finger and suddenly you own me?"
"Absolutely" she says with a mocking grin, leaning in to press a kiss to your neck.
"You belong to me now."
You laugh, the sound filled with joy. "Is that so? And what if I have some ideas of my own about who belongs to whom?"
Natasha raises an eyebrow, her smile widening. "Oh really? Do tell detka"
You lean in, your voice dropping to a seductive whisper. "Maybe I want to hear you call me by your last name again. Maybe I want to remind you exactly who you're marrying."
Natasha's eyes darken with desire, a wicked smile playing on her lips. "Well, Mrs. Romanoff, you have my full attention"
Your heart skips a beat at the sound of your new name on her lips, and you can't help but grin. "Good" you say, your voice filled with satisfaction—"Because I plan to keep it."
Natasha laughs softly, her breath hot against your skin. "I wouldn't have it any other way" she murmurs, her lips trailing down your neck.
“So, Mrs. Romanoff” she begins, her eyes glinting with mischief, “what’s on the agenda for our first day as an engaged couple?”
You laugh, shaking your head at her playful tone. “Well, I suppose we could start with breakfast” you suggest, your fingers tracing idle patterns on her soft bare skin.
Natasha grins, her hands slipping down to rest on your hips. “Breakfast sounds good” she agrees. “But I have a better idea.”
“Oh? what’s that?”
She leans in, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispers, “How about we stay in bed a little longer? I think we have some celebrating to do.”
You shiver at her words, a thrill running through you. “Celebrating, huh?” you murmur, your voice filled with anticipation.
Natasha's smirk widens, her fingers trailing up your arm with a featherlight touch as she nods.
You feel a shiver run down your spine at her words, your breath catching slightly. "I think I like the sound of that."
"I thought you might"
You can't help but laugh softly, your heart pounding with anticipation. "You know, I think you enjoy teasing me a little too much."
Natasha pulls back slightly, her eyes gleaming with playful intent. "Oh, you have no idea" she murmurs, her fingers dancing along your collarbone, sending shivers through your body.
You bite your lip, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. "Well, two can play at that game."
Natasha arches an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Oh, really?"
You lean in closer, your lips hovering just inches from hers. "Maybe I have a few tricks of my own that you still haven’t seen"
Her eyes darken with desire, her breath hitching slightly. "I'd like to see you try" she challenges, her voice a husky whisper.
You close the distance between you, capturing her lips in a slow, lingering kiss. Natasha responds eagerly, her hands roaming your back, pulling you closer.
Gentle kisses become more irresistible as she makes her way further up your neck. Your fingers lace through her hair as she flips your positions— your back making contact with the soft sheets.
You feel your breath hitch as her lips trail down your neck, leaving a path of fire in their wake. "Natasha" you breathe, your hands threading through her hair.
She looks up at you, her eyes filled with desire. "Yes, Mrs. Romanoff?" she teases, her voice a seductive purr.
"I love you"
"I love you—so much" she murmurs as her lips capture yours in a deep, passionate kiss.
Her touch is so light, it's as if she's barely doing anything, but the fire that ignites inside you as her skin touches yours begs her to continue. She leaves soft kisses all over your chest, slowly moving downward.
As she makes her way lower, the anticipation builds, every kiss sending waves of electricity through your body.
When her lips finally reach your inner thigh, she pauses, looking up at you with a mischievous glint in her eye.
"Natasha" you moan, your hands gripping at her hair—"Please" you whisper, your voice filled with need.
Natasha looks up at you, her eyes dark with desire. "Please what?" she teases, her fingers trailing lightly over your skin.
"Please, don't stop" you beg, your voice barely audible.
She smiles, her lips brushing against your skin. "I’m not planning to, love"
As she begins to tease and torment you, your mind goes blank, consumed by the sensations she's creating. Every touch, every kiss drives you closer to the edge, and you can feel yourself spiraling out of control.
"You look so beautiful like this" she whispers, her breath hot against your skin.
You bite your lip, your fingers tangling in the sheets. "Nat..."
Her smile is both wicked and tender as she places a soft kiss over your clit, so lightly it's as if she's barely touching you. The fire that ignites inside as her skin meets yours is overwhelming, every nerve ending crying out for more.
"Be patient" she murmurs, her hand pressing down on your stomach until your back is flat against the bed.
"Natty” you whisper, your voice trembling with need.
She chuckles softly, a low, sultry sound that only heightens your desire. "So eager” she teases, her tongue running back and forth over your clit, working up a rhythm that sends sparks shooting through ur body.
Her hands grip your thighs, holding you firmly in place as she increases the pressure, each stroke over you sending you closer and closer to the edge. Your hands clutch the sheets, your mind spinning with the sensations she's drawing out of you.
"Oh god" you gasp, your hips bucking against her mouth.
Natasha's grip tightens, keeping you anchored as she continues to give you pleasure—her tongue and lips moving with an expertise that leaves you breathless. The rhythm she sets is unrelenting, each flick of her tongue pushing you higher and higher, sending your mind into orbit.
"Natasha" you moan, your voice breaking with the intensity of your need.
She hums against you, the vibration sending shockwaves through your body.
Her eyes lock onto yours, a silent command to hold on just a little longer.
You can feel the tension building, the pressure mounting until it feels like you might shatter.
With a final, deft flick of her tongue, you're pushed over the edge, a cry of ecstasy tearing from your throat as you come undone beneath her. The world dissolves into a haze of pleasure, every muscle in your body tensing and then releasing in a wave of bliss.
Natasha continues to kiss you gently, guiding you through the aftershocks with a tenderness that makes your heart swell. When you finally come back down, she moves back up your body, pressing soft kisses to your skin.
"Perfect" she murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. "You're perfect."
You smile up at her, feeling your heart swell with love. "You always know what to say to make me melt" you tease, running your fingers through her hair.
"Well, it’s true. You are perfect."
You laugh softly, feeling a warm blush spread across your cheeks. "You’re not too bad yourself, Romanoff."
She raises an eyebrow, a playful challenge in her eyes. "Not too bad? I think I deserve better than that."
You smirk, your fingers tracing patterns on her skin. "Oh, you definitely do."
With a sudden burst of energy, you switch positions again, straddling her waist. "My turn" you say with a teasing smile, your hands resting on her shoulders as you lean in to capture her lips in a loving kiss.
As the kiss deepens, you feel a sense of contentment wash over you. This is where you’re meant to be – with Natasha, by your side, as long as your heartbeat ceased to exist.
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌𓆩♡𓆪﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
Note:
hello dears!
I stumbled upon this piece in my drafts and loved it so much that I just had to share it with you all! It's a bit different from my usual work because it's my first time writing smut. I hope you enjoy it, because I wasn’t that sure about publishing it…
On another note, I've been hard at work on the next chapter of "Love on the Brain." I know you've been eagerly waiting for it, and I aim to have it ready by next week. However, I also have to study for my last exam, so I appreciate your patience and understanding. ♡
xx
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misspygmypie · 1 month
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What's That Brush For?
Pairing: Lando Norris x reader Requested: Yes Summary: Lando is fascinated by your morning makeup routine :) Words: 765
Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)
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Lando stood in the doorway, his eyes wide with fascination as you meticulously applied your makeup. The morning sun streamed through the window, casting a warm glow that made the whole process feel even more intimate. The Brit had been standing there for a good five minutes, observing you while you were pulling your hair into a high ponytail, without saying a single word. 
As you had moved on to doing your makeup for the day he just kept watching, mesmerized, as you skillfully blended foundation and brushed on eyeshadow with precise movements.
“Wow,” he said, leaning in closer, his voice tinged with awe. “I never realized how much goes into this. What’s that brush for?”
You watched as he picked up the little tool and looked at it wide-eyed, bopping its soft bristles with his index finger before bringing it up to his eyes and inspecting it closely.
You glanced up to your boyfriend. “This is a blending brush. It helps smooth out the eyeshadow so there are no harsh lines in between the colors.”
Lando nodded, clearly enthralled by the whole situation. “Can I try? I mean, I probably won’t get it right, but it looks like fun.”
You smiled at him, amused by his enthusiasm. “Sure, give it a go. Just be gentle and please don’t poke my eye out, I kind of still need it.”
“Shut up, you muppet, as if I was that clumsy…” he gave you a sour look and you chuckled, remembering some moments he definitely had been that clumsy.
As he carefully tried his hand at blending the different powders on your eyelid he asked, “Does it always take this long? I feel like I’m messing it up.”
“Practice makes perfect,” you reassured him, watching as his concentration intensified, his tongue now poking out of his mouth making him way more adorable than should be allowed. “It takes time to get the hang of it. And don’t worry, you’re doing fine,” you ensured him after a quick glance into the mirror.
He looked at the result and grinned, a mixture of pride and humor in his expression. “This is really cool. I had no idea it was such an art form. How did you learn all this?”
You laughed softly, appreciating his genuine interest which is something you never would have expected. But then again, this was Lando and he always was full of surprises. “A lot of trial and error, plus some tutorials online. It’s like anything else, practice and patience.”
Lando’s eyes twinkled with enthusiasm. “Maybe I should start learning more. Who knows, I might end up being a makeup artist on the side.”
You chuckled at the boy next to you. “You never know. It could be a fun skill to have. But don’t quit your day job just yet.”
He grinned, returning to his spot by the door, crossing his arms in front of his chest and leaning against the frame. “Fair enough. But if you ever need an assistant, I’m your guy,” Lando announced proudly, pointing at himself with his two thumbs.
“Thanks, Lan. I might just take you up on that offer someday. You know,” you said, applying a bit of highlighter with a deft hand, “makeup can be a lot like racing in a way. It’s all about precision, timing, and a bit of creativity.”
Lando raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Really? I never thought of it that way.”
“Yeah,” you explained, smiling as you looked at him. “Just like in racing, you need to have good technique and an eye for detail. And there’s always room to experiment and improve.”
He nodded thoughtfully, clearly processing the comparison. “I guess it makes sense. And I suppose the same principles apply, practice makes perfect.”
“Exactly,” you agreed. “And it’s all about having fun with it, too.”
Lando’s grin widened. “Well, I definitely had fun. Thanks for letting me try it out. Maybe next time we can swap skills, I'll give you a few racing tips if you show me more about makeup.”
“Deal,” you said, laughing. “Looking forward to it. But how about a cup of coffee first?”
“That can be arranged,” Lando smiled and gave you a quick kiss before he headed out into the direction of the kitchen. 
As the door clicked shut behind him, you tidied up the bathroom counter, feeling a small bit of excitement about what had just happened. It was one of those small moments that made you appreciate Lando just that much more and perhaps you soon would learn something new about his world too!
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youraverageaemondsimp · 2 months
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Metanoia ;
Aemond Targaryen x Transmigrated!Strong!Reader
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>> Chapter II : The deal.
Summary: Viserys proposes a deal to undo the drift between the families.
WARNINGS: CANON TYPICAL INCEST, SPOILERS FOR S1 AND S2, nothing serious, mildly suggestive (extremely mild to the points it's unnoticeable) + not proof read.
A/N: divider credits to @cafekitsune
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The ride to King's Landing was tough, you were not used to riding a dragon after all. You were surprised when you found out that the dragon you bonded with was Vermithor, he was a free dragon in the original show.
There have already been changes in the plot by your existence, the petition hearing was delayed because of you, will it change anything? It likely will.
Your mind was preoccupied with all these unnecessary details to the point you were unaware that you had already reached the keep, rhaenyra, your mother, had to call you out from your daze to get you off the carriage.
Weren't you just on your dragon a moment ago?
Time passed weirdly for you.
You lifted your skirt slightly before stepping on the carriage steps, reaching out your hand to hold the awaiting guard's hand to step down. The sand and rocks beneath you looked unfamiliar, you were more used to seeing asphalt and concrete.
You fix your skirts, letting go of the guard's hand, before you look up, and the sight shocked you. It was the red keep, in its glory, right in front of you, standing tall and erect. A castle that you merely saw in a show was now real and it was standing right in front of you.
Soft dizziness overcomes your body when you realise this, a sense of feeling trapped begins to bloom in your heart when your mind spirals to compare the world you knew with the world you are in.
Your breathing grows heavy as you try not to break down due the overwhelming feelings, when will you get used to this? Can you truly ever get used to this? You wish to return to your world.
“..sis…..si... sister!” The voice of Lucerys wakes you up from falling into the abyss of your mind, “Yes?” You face him, “Are you okay?” He asks, with a frown on his face and a genuine look of concern. You give him a tight lipped smile, “Yes, I am fine.” You reassure him.
“Let's go inside then, mother and father have already left.” Jacaerys grabs your hand and drags you inside. You stumble behind him, trying to catch up with the fast paced walking.
He lets go of your hand once all of you are inside, and your body suddenly moves according to its own will, taking you forward. You were unfamiliar with the inside of the red keep, yet it seems that your body knew the way, and soon you found yourself in a strange hallway, where at the end, laid two big doors.
Your body continued forward, the hallway seemed strangely deserted because everyone was focused on preparing for the petition, and the guards that were likely guarding this room might've gone to watch over important areas.
Wait, how do you know this?
You could only watch as your hands pushed the door open, revealing shelves upon shelves of books, every literature piece in the westeros could be found here, perhaps this was the keep's library.
You look behind to see if anyone has followed you, yet nobody did, why did your body bring you here? You finally seem like you are in control of your body again, so you move around the library, looking through the shelves.
“Niece.”
The voice sends chills down your spine, and you immediately turn around to the direction where it came from.
There he was.
Aemond Targaryen.
He was sitting, looming over the books on the table, but he was now facing you with an expression of intrigue, he eyed you curiously.
“Have you come to read?” He asks and you suddenly get an odd sense of deja vu.
Character encounter has changed.
Your mouth went dry trying to come up with a response, it seemed as if there was a big lump in your throat which you couldn't swallow. There was an odd sense of anxiety that did not belong to your consciousness on your body, his presence intimated you.
“Hmm?” He tilts his head in a questioning manner, waiting for your answer.
“I- uh.” You stumble your words, hands curling up into fists as you try to stop them from shaking so much.
Aemond gets up from his seat, his feet taking a few steps forward to you. He stood in front of you, his eye roaming your form, taking in every bit of your details. “It has been a while since we saw each other.” He speaks once again, and you close your eyes wondering why your body is behaving this way around him.
You take heavy breaths before forcefully putting on a small smile on your face, you look at him once again, “Yes it has been, uncle.” You spit out the words in a hurry.
He raises his eyebrow slightly before returning a small yet condescending smile back. You lick your lips, wetting them. Aemond eyes the action intently, his lips parting slightly before he too mimics the action of licking his lips.
You clear your throat.
“I have to go, bye.” You give him a small bow, and before he could respond you turn around and bolt in the other direction, leaving the library immediately.
Your hurried footsteps echoed among the hall, and once again your body took charge from there and took you up the stairs, making you halt in front of a room. The guard gave you a bow before he opened the door and you wasted no time entering.
You gasped at the interior design.
And as expected, you weren't familiar with this place at all yet you didn't feel out of place or foreign, this room provided you comfort more than anything. It had a bed, and oddly, all the furniture and everything were in the shades of your favourite colours, excluding the wooden furniture.
It must've been this body's room in the keep.
But isn't the body yours?
Yet at the same time, it didn't feel like yours.
Even earlier, you knew where to go, though you've never been in this place before.
What is going on?
You felt internally conflicted, your head began to spin rapidly, your heartbeat pounded in your ears, your skin felt all prickly and you felt your knees buckle and soon your body was thrown off balance.
You fell to the floor with a loud thud, you attempted to grab the table nearby to prevent you from hitting the floor; only for the table to fall along with you, hitting the floor with a shattering pierce, spilling all of the contents onto the floor next to you.
“Princess! Are you alri—” The last thing you heard was the guard's voice before you drifted into unconsciousness.
Muffled voices of concern could be heard, they sounded so distant yet so nearby, you furrowed your brows, annoyed at the fact that you were being woken up from your slumber, you didn't want to wake up, you wanted to sleep a bit more.
But the noises got louder and you got frustrated and opened your eyes, sitting up straight.
You deep down hoped that you would wake up on your sofa again— only for it all to come crashing down when you heard Rhaenyra's troubled call.
“Y/N! Oh seven hells! You scared us.” She rushed to your side and you looked at her confused, you looked at your surroundings, noticing a maester and your siblings spread across the room.
Oh right, you fainted.
“It seems that it was nothing serious, your grace, she must've fainted. Her body showed signs of insomnia, she must not have been able to fall asleep these few days.” The maester speaks up, and Rhaenyra just nods at him. She grabs you and hugs you tightly, “Oh my sweet daughter.” She kissed your hair, her hands were shaking, she must've been really anxious.
Your head was on her chest, you could hear her heart beating loudly and frantically, and for an odd reason you felt a sense of comfort in that, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, wanting to feel comforted.
She must've been really scared.
“I- I am alright.” You speak, voice hoarse and scratchy as you just woke up, and she caresses your hair, “I'm glad you are.” She replies and you bite your lip, trying to hold back tears.
Your feelings brew up a storm everytime, you do not know whether you can truly accept this life now because you don't belong here, but that doesn't mean you can distance yourself from the characters as well, because as you just witnessed, your existence is very real to them.
You are Rhaenyra's daughter.
Didn't you wish she had one to fix the plot?
You might be the key to prevent a lot of loss if you play your part right.
“Princess, The petition is about to begin soon.” A guard announces, “Already? But my daughter is sick.” She asks, letting go of you, you stare at her. “The hearing was already delayed further, they do not want to waste anymore time.” He replies and Rhaenyra sighs loudly. “Very well, we shall head over in a bit.” She informs him and he doesn't leave, “Is there anything else?” She asks and he bites his lip, “The queen has also commanded that princess Y/N also be present in the throne room for the hearing.” He answers shakily.
“What?! My sister is sick—”
“Jace.”
Jace tries butting in but Rhaenyra stops him, “Oh don't worry, tell her I'll be there.” You reply with a smile, not being able to read the room as you were excited over the idea of witnessing the iconic Vaemond scene live.
“What do you mean—? You're not well—” Your mother tries arguing with you but you stand up immediately, “I'm fine, I just didn't get any sleep.” You rub your eyes and fix your hair, ready to leave.
Rhaenyra lets out a heavy sigh.
The sound of a mother's disappointed sigh.
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The hearing was pretty boring, realising you're in a moment of unnecessary dialogue and argument, the fun part of Vaemond bluntly calling your siblings bastards hasn't arrived yet.
So you zone out.
Aemond couldn't stop looking at you, in fact, he stared at you throughout the entire session, not looking away once, Alicent noticed this and immediately became uncomfortable and fidgety.
He tried not to show it, but he was feeling excited deep down, his gut churned with giddiness, you looked so frail and out of place, he noticed your lack of attention to the hearing which made him smile slightly.
He heard you had fainted right before the trial, and expected you to take rest but you were standing in front of everyone as if nothing happened.
You were still stubborn.
‘So how do people poop here?’
‘Are they all naturally hairless on their bodies?’
You look at your arms, concluding they are.
Those stupid questions circle your mind, your thoughts keeping you entertained.
You jumped when you heard the doors open as the entry of the king was announced, your heart pounded in your chest as you witnessed the king enter.
You were a bit bummed that there was no background music.
You witnessed the original script of the scene take place with Viserys reaffirming Jace's claim to the driftwood was settled.
Wait what.
Jace's claim? Wasn't this Luke's plot?
What the fuck is going on?
This could only mean one thing.
You were the next heir to the throne.
After Rhaenyra, your mother, being the eldest daughter and the oldest child of hers. ‘What the genuine fuck.’ You think, realising how much of a big deal your existence is.
You couldn't really focus much on the next conflict since you already knew what would happen, so you excitedly waited for the iconic scene to occur and it did.
It left you traumatised.
You forgot that this was your reality, it was only reconfirmed when you felt Vaemond's blood spurt out onto the floor.
Viserys falls down on his chair tiredly.
“One… more thing.” He wheezes, Alicent rushes over to grab him but he protests. “My second son Aemond… and my granddaughter shall be wed by the next moon.” He announces randomly and your eyes widen.
What.
You can tell it was unexpected and unplanned by the way both of the families reacted, Alicent and Rhaenyra immediately wanting to protest.
“Father—”
“Husband—”
“It is not a request, it is a command, a King's command, protest against it and you will pay the consequences.” He breathes heavily before he stumbles forward, the guards immediately rush over to him and take him out of the room.
Everyone is left silent.
You turned to look at Aemond, and his face held no expression, not even surprise, so you immediately looked away.
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“It is a "King's command," he said! How foolish.” Daemon mutters, frustrated under his breath, “Your father is willing to sacrifice your daughter for the sake of undoing the rift amongst the families.” He grits his teeth.
“We cannot disobey the word, for it would be disobeying the law.” Rhaenyra sighs, trying to calm daemon down.
“I don't mind.” You chime in and they all turn to look at you.
You were currently back in your chambers, with your family members pacing back and forth, Daemon sitting down on the table frustrated at his brother's decision whilst you stood nearby the door.
“It would be beneficial.” You shrug, hoping to convince them that it will be alright, perhaps this is a major sign that's confirming that you'd be the one fixing the plot.
They ignore you and whisper amongst themselves, making your jaw drop in offence. You realise that your attempt of assurance only made it worse so you turn around and leave the room, nobody questions you or bothers to stop you as you leave the room as they were occupied with the matter at hand.
So you decide to trudge through the corridors, making your way to the gardens, wanting some fresh air.
Of course, to your luck, you ran straight into Aemond at a turning corner. He grabbed your arm so you don't fall, balancing both of you. He immediately lets go, clearing his throat.
“I was looking for you, niece.” He breaks the silence, to your surprise, your body isn't behaving weirdly around him anymore, which means you get to be in full control, so you smile at him before you grab his hand. “Let's go for a walk, Aemond.” You tug at him.
He feels nostalgic when he sees your form dragging him, it reminds him of the time when you both were young, you always used to drag him around with you, asking him to spend time with you.
He grabs your forearm and pulls you into a secluded hallway, taking control before he pushes you up against the wall. You let out a surprised squeal when you feel the cold wall hit your back.
He trapped you in his arms.
He hand travelled up towards your face caressing your cheek, your eyes widened.
No way.
Are you two about to kiss?
Did you both have a thing in the past?
Your mind spiralled with these questions.
Aemond presses his thumb against your cheek bone, increasing the pressure slowly.
Is this a type of foreplay he enjoys or what?
He distances himself from you and immediately leaves, stranding you confused.
You rub the spot he pressed harshly against and felt a cut that was leaking blood. What the fuck did he does this for?
You wanted to curse him, what if his nails were dirty and you got an infection? There isn't even proper treatment for infections in this era, you'd die.
You shrugged it off and left the hallway as well.
Aemond hurried back to his chamber, his heart drumming against his rib cage violently as hot lava courses through his veins, his fists were curled up as he was reminded of something very bitter.
How could he ever forget?
Was he so happy that you'd woken up to the point he had forgotten everything?
He hates you.
He despises you.
Of course anyone would.
After all, you were the one that took his eye on that eventful night.
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TAGLIST <3
@intheheartoftheking @dracaryxzs @ladyoffandoms @spear-bearing-bi-witch @myheartfollower @jom3leo @zoleea-exultant @saturnssrings @uniquecutie-puffs @aleemendoza2425-blog @marvelita85 @feelingfaye @anaya-rhys @visenyareads @sylvievil @cypherpt5fttaehyung @ttysmfwna @void21
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thragedys · 1 month
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Midnight Visitor
Sol x Reader
Synopsis: Thanks to the takeout you ate last night, the effects of food poisoning from poor catering have finally kicked in, hitting you when you least expected it. To ensure you’re properly cared for, Sol takes the duty of watching over you.
Word count: 1.8k
Includes: Gender neutral reader, sick reader, Sol being soft, affection, trespassing, jealous Sol (+ more!)
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After undergoing a series of nausea and intense dizziness, Sol insisted on walking you home despite being out in the city with him and Hyugo. It was as though all life was drained from your face, the only support you had while walking was Sol’s arms holding you upright. 
Food poisoning… Should’ve never eaten from that takeout place with less than three stars in their reviews.
Grabbing the key from your bag, he unlocks the door and escorts you inside, directing you to your bedroom while you whine and hold your face in your hands. Even the slightest tilt of your head would send you spiralling sideways, a recipe for disaster as your stomach decides to conjure its own storm.
Inside the kitchen, Sol spots a paper bag. The logo of the company which made you unwell is there, presented in a large font. Retrieving his phone, he snaps a picture of the logo, alongside the contact details printed on the back. He’ll deal with that later. Currently, he has more important things to tend to. You.
Rummaging through your cupboards, he successfully finds some medication that will ease the aches in your stomach. As for your dizzy head, the best thing he can do for you is close your curtains and encourage you to get rest. Fluid intake is also vital, it’ll aid dehydration. Returning to your side with a glass of water and some pills, Sol places them on your bedside table and sits on the edge of your bed.
“Are you okay? Let me feel your head.” Sol sighs, placing his palm flat on your forehead.
“Sol…” You whine, one hand remaining on your stomach and the other clutching his free hand.
“You’re not that hot, yet. Leave your window open—”
“No! No, I can’t! You’ve seen the news…”
“You will be fine, I promise. Fresh air will make you feel a lot better.” 
“I’m sorry for burdening you with this…”
“Don’t be. I’d rather it be me taking care of you than anyone else.”
“I’ll buy you a—”
“No. Sit down.”
“Ugh, Sol—”
“Rest.”
“I’ll buy you a thank-you gift when I’m better…” You mumble, pouting at him as he leans against the doorframe.
“Send me a text or call me if you need me. Doesn’t matter what time it is.”
“Text… Call… Yeah.” You repeat, rubbing your eyes while burying your head into the pillow.
“Don’t forget, take your medicine.”
“I’m gonna take it… Now.” You reach over and drop the pills into your mouth, then take a small sip of the drink to wash them down.
“Goodnight. I hope you feel better soon.”
Before leaving, he waited until he heard your breathing pattern change, signifying that you were asleep. Alongside the medication, he slipped in a sleeping pill, its dosage strong enough to keep you out for the correct amount of time. 
As if he would leave you alone so easily while you’re sick.
Right now, however, his main concern is dealing with the business that made his soulmate ill, after all, what good is a company in operation if its only achievement is casting a vast majority of its customers extremely unwell upon eating their cheaply sourced food?
Upon arriving back at his apartment, he stripped from his usual attire and threw on a set of his darkest clothes, a matching surgical mask to cover what remained exposed on his face. A complaint wouldn’t be enough, they clearly racked up enough of them online but did not change a singular thing about their selfish ways.
It was just after midnight when the streets were soundless and the civilians were tucked away inside of the safety of their homes. Strolling down the deserted sidewalk, Sol stops outside of a building, comparing the logo to the one saved in his photo album. A perfect match. 
Subtly, Sol explored the perimeter, tracing the outline of the building before returning to the front. It’s no wonder why all of their customers become unwell, the amount of trash that remains behind the building is piled up, much taller than him. 
There is no point in teaching those who do not wish to learn. An ignorant mind reflects an ignorant heart. Only the careless would profit from neglect like this.
Flicking his lighter on, he tosses it to the ground before walking away, the flicker of flames igniting in the distance as he glances back. It won’t be long before a passerby calls the fire department, but that’s no concern to him. When the authorities see the state the building was in previously, they could rule it out as the impact of an unkempt business.
His feet led him back to your apartment, the open window a much easier entrance for him as he climbed up. After all those locks you’ve bought in the past, he’s surprised you never gave up your safety protocols. Securing his footing, he creeps back into your bedroom, kneeling beside you as you rest peacefully in your slumber.
You are so beautiful. Every feature of your face was crafted with tender hands. He traces over your lips with his index finger, slowly drawing his hand back.
“Hi, Pumpkin.” He whispers, leaning in to press his lips against your cheek. “I’m going to check your temperature again.”
This time, Sol uses the back of his hand. Thankfully, he would say you are around average, partially a slight bit higher than usual.
“Good… You’re going to be okay. You might be sick tomorrow but I’ll come over to make sure you aren’t alone.”
“You like having me here, don’t you? You feel so safe, so loved.” He strokes your hair similar to how you would pet a fragile animal. As his hand ventures under the blanket, he comes in contact with something.
“You still sleep with the plushie I bought for you? You…” Sol’s smile expands, his cheeks lighting a subtle shade of pink. “You must love it. Or me. I hope it’s me.”
In your sleep, you moan, your body beginning to shift. He strokes the side of your arm, calming you down as you endure whatever dream is unfolding. After a while, your body stops with its relentless motions and goes still again.
“This is our special time together. It’s my favourite part of the day.” Sol’s lips curve up, his eyes filled with adoration as he clutches your plushie close to his chest. “I’ll make it smell like me again, don’t worry.”
“Mph…” Your lips moved, but he couldn’t decipher the sound that left them.
“Hm?” Sol pinches your cheek, a procedure to test if you’re awake or not. 
You must be mumbling to yourself since you didn’t respond to his touch.
“I’m guessing you missed smelling me then. That’s cute.” When he finished rubbing the plushie against his flesh and clothing, he tucked it under your chin. “You’re cute.”
“He doesn’t deserve you, you know?” Sol mumbles, sinking onto the bed beside you, fingers toying with your hair.
“He would never do the things I have done for you.”
“I know you prefer me. It’s okay if you don’t want to admit it right now. I can wait.” He rolls onto his side, your face now in view. 
“You make it hard for me to leave every single time…” His pitch was low, an almost pouty tone as he nuzzled his head against your chest. Lifting your limbs, he wraps them around himself, drawing the blanket over both of your bodies this time.
“I’ll just stay like this for a few more minutes… Then I have to go.” Sol closes his eyes, the therapeutic beats of your heart are a soothing melody to his ears.
Sunlight filters in through the curtains, a bitter breeze hitting your clammy skin. Compared to yesterday, you’re feeling a lot better, the only thing remaining is the dull ache in your stomach. Rubbing your eyes, you squeeze your plushie, only to hear a strange noise. 
Last time you checked, this plushie shouldn’t be able to communicate. Shooting your eyes open, you find a mess of green hair sprawled out on top of you. 
“Sol?” You rub your eyes again, unsure if what is in front of you is reality or a fever dream.
“Yeah…?” Sol mumbles in response, his body shifting. Then he goes still, springing up from his previous position. Shit.
“I thought you left last night.” 
“After you took your medicine, you asked me to stay. You went out like a light but I made sure that you were okay.”
“Did you have this on yesterday?” You tug at his hoodie. “I’ve never seen you wear clothes like this before.”
“These are my comfy clothes, that’s why. I keep the hoodie in my backpack.”
“Oh…” That food poisoning must have hit you hard to leave you so delirious. “Thank you for staying with me.”
“…?” Sol flutters his eyelashes while your hands cup his cheeks, drawing him near. Your lips plant a peck on his forehead, a suiting reward since he went out of his way for you.
“Ah… You shouldn’t have to thank me… It’s what anyone would do.” Sol rubs the back of his neck, a flush spreading over his face.
“I feel sick. Like I’m going to throw up.”
“I’m not surprised. Let’s get you to the bathroom. Get all of that food out of your system for good.” Sol stands first, offering his hand to assist you to your feet.
“I don’t like vomiting.” You mope, refusing to move despite your stomach cramping further.
“But it has to come out. You’ll be okay, I’m right here.” He grabs your hand, squeezing it gently.
The only option is to get up if you don’t want to clean your bedsheets. Swiftly shuffling between rooms, you kneel before the toilet and allow your body to regulate itself, removing the foreign pathogens that invaded your meal. Sol rubbed your back, making the process easier. There wasn’t a lot of retching, but you still felt that familiar burn in your throat when you were finished.
“Any more?” Sol pats your upper back and you shake your head.
“I’ll cook for you this time. No more buying from trashy food places.”
“But they’re cheap…” You puff air into your cheeks, taking your toothbrush which he handed you to remove the bitter taste from your mouth.
“My meals are free. Don’t be ashamed to ask.” Sol takes a final glance at you before heading back to your kitchen, scouring the cupboards in search of something to work with.
For you, he would do anything. Make anything. Even if it’s from scratch. No matter the simplicity or complication of a request you have, he will ensure that you get what you ask for. You don’t deserve anything less. If only you were aware of the lengths he has gone and is still willing to go for you.
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metranart · 4 months
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Acting like a bird in heat, Hawks ends up fulfilling his mating cycles with you… but now that his mind isn’t a pool of hormones… why does he keep looking for you?
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Hawks x Student! Reader (Part 1)
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Warning tag: obsessed! Hawks, possessive! Hawks, naive! student reader, violation of trust, dubious consent, mating cycles, rut response, obsessive behavior, uncontrollable thirst for reader, manipulation, forced, thigh riding, hormonal minds out of control, sexual content, first time, cock riding, teenage fuck, Dabi's toxically interested in you, Bakugo bestie yet secretly inlove wit you, love confessions, cock-drunk, Hawks trying to be good but failing miserably, gaslighting, HEAVY plot, lots of smut.
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The last time you saw him, your fingers dripped in his milky and creamy essence, his cheeks were bright red, and foggy as the feather adorning his back, and his voice held an elusive pant as if trying to catch his breath, along with his actions. Self-consciousness, the new mask for him to wear as he disentangled your hand from his now flaccid cock, almost caringly, half-lidded golden orbs shinning in its post-delirium bliss yet hiding a regretful truth. How the fuck did this happened? And why the hell did he allowed it? What was that new confusing feeling inside his chest?Takami Keigo knew what it was, but had never had such a close encounter with it in his whole life. 
Shame. 
No man, no citizen, no hero... –shall call himself trustworthy, after what he did. After the kind of thoughts that now circled his brain...agh! and he called himself the Number two hero. What a farse.
A steady hand passed through his golden locks, disheveled strands restricting the smooth motion, as he heavily sighed. 
I need a bath, thought mildly annoyed. Maybe that would serve him to clear his mind and untangle the treacherous feeling threatening to drive him insane, a cold shower would serve the purpose of cooling the deep mortification, he was experiencing. Fresh summer wind ruffled the papers scattered on top of his desk and at the same time, refreshed his blushing skin. The memory of his recent untactful sin, raving his brain like a horde of savages attacking a peaceful village. Damn his luck. Damn his choice of actions and must of all, damned the day, he saved you. Hawks could still remember so many details, little yet so endearing details about you. When arrived at the scene never thought for a minute, would become involved in such colorful acts.
Everything went peachy during the rescue; Endeavor handled the Villain with upmost care while incinerating his head right away from his body. Tactful, the winged hero recalled to think quite amused, it would have been a scarring scene, if not were for the villain being a Nomus. Yet, he couldn’t avoid but to think, there still were so many more options to reach the same end. His job in this particular scene was easy, to say the least. Save the hostage. A sweet, scared and highly ordinary young girl who found herself trapped in the crossed fire. UA uniform hugging your figure, as the Nomus paraded itself around you like a bee setting his sting to hurt. There was little time to act, and the moment the flames exploded from the Number one hero, Hawks saw his window open to save the deceptive young girl. Flying through hell fire landed with a soft thud in front of you, displaying his wings to envelop you in a cocoon of feathers, the red flames licking his crimson wings while shielding you from harm.
His gloved hands went straight to your waist in a studied motion, at the same time his gaze fixed in yours asking for permission to touch you, you almost threw yourself at him like a trembling leaf who seek shelter from the chaotic winds. The winged hero was quick enough to pull you into his welcome arms and fly up, taking you both from the ground just in time. The scorching heat caressed his flying form before both were out of reach. The crowd around the sinister cheered the incineration of the villain, and a swift smirk kidnapped the blonde’s lips in a sassy gest.
He knew he have it in him, Endeavor just needed a few notches in the right direction. All those musings were curtly interrupted as his eyes focused on the civilian resting in his arms, your round eyes caught him off guard, nevertheless, was quick to smile and reassure your questioning stare. You seemed in shock, probable still were. These nasty things never left a sweet taste behind. Flying you to the safety of the ground, landed near the scene, but far away to gift you with some privacy to compose. Hawks gently unwrapped you from his chest and placed a comforting hand over your hunched shoulders, reassuring smile always present in his welcome expression. "It´s ok, you are safe now." His palm gently squeezed your shoulder, thumb doing comforting circle motions over the fabric of the uniform. "Breath, in and out, you'll see how you feel better in matter of seconds–" You managed to quirk the edge of your lip up, and your frame stopped shaking, the tremors slowly disappearing the more oxygen you gulped. "Atta girl" The hero cheered, lowly. "In and out, you’re almost a pro." His good-hearted joke reaped the fruits as a melodic giggle escaped out of you, and your tense frame seemed to relax. "T-thank you, Hawks" you timidly stammered, eyes glued to your fidgeting fingers interlacing each other, nervously.
Looking up from your hands met his gleeful stare, and your cheeks gained a dust of pink. Your lips opened and closed as if wanted to say something but didn’t dare to. Hawks pretended no to notice, to save you the embarrassment. 
He was used to have this effect over the female population, every woman in town was one smirk away from his warm bed, but the young hero had grown tired of those kinds of relationships. When you can have all, you can eat, eventually the buffet seemed less attractive, almost boring.
He liked sex, holly shit, he fucking did! as much as the next guy would. But he needed a challenge –   actually wasn’t sure what he needed, but something inside him was unsatisfied and restless, continuingly poking at the back of his mind.
“Don’t mention it, cutie.” The hero said simply and looking around, realized that your home shouldn't be far away.
“If you want, I can take you to your house" he suggested, in a carefree and friendly tone, "flying everything is closer." Cheerfully, added.
Taking a moment to think, nibble your lower lip a bit but you ended up accepting. His amber glasses shone under the rays of the sun and without preamble, he offered you his arms which you nervously climb for him to leave the safety of the ground and surf the sky, again.
"Are you comfortable?” Keigo asked, feeling your body a little tense among his arms, being carried bride style across the sky would definitely woo any girl, nevertheless, you seem more uncomfortable than anything else. 
“M´Ok.” you said, curtly, and hawks, merely nodded. “By the way, are we heading in the right direction?"
A blush swept across your cheeks at the realization of what he just stated, and timidly squeezing his arm to feel more secure, you glanced down and before you could tell him exactly where your house was, you noticed something coating your fingers.
“You are hurt!” You half-yelled worried, looking at your blood covered hand, and then, at his wounds. You had not noticed it because he had not said anything, nor had he complained, but his arm was burned and one of his wings was semi-scorched. To which the young hero, just shrugged his shoulders, not giving it much importance.
"Comes with the territory." He openly joked, but your eyebrows continued to frown. "It's not serious, a few of Endevour´s flames got me... nothing that won't heal in a few days." He encouraged you, but you weren't able to shake the feeling of guilt.
You had been training hard to become a hero, and just when it was time to prove yourself, you froze.
It was so, so embarrassing that Todoroki's father had to save you, that you refused to go back to the dormitory you shared with your class A classmates. Surely, they would be worried, not to mention, you had already ghosted, a few text messages from Professor Aizawa asking if you were okay. But you just kept feeling like you let everyone down. That was why you preferred to go home and cry your eyes out in the solitude of your bedroom, or among your mom’s arms. 
Now, you felt even worse, since Hawks, the number two hero, was injured because of you. Maybe he didn't show it since he was too professional, but that wound was serious and would take more than a few days to heal, not to mention it could get infected.
Ugh! you had to help him, was the least you could do… It was what a true hero would do.
Setting your mind, you decided to use your quirk on him, despite Recovery Girl several warnings. Without a doubt, you could heal him... now the only setback was, not losing control while doing it.
An idea suddenly lights your brain, and catching a glimpse of a well-known hidden alleyway, near your house, you signaled to him that you had arrived.
Hawks landed softly, and let you down, looking around the place. "I'll take you to the door, which one is yours?" The young hero, offered.
“...Is the one on the other side of the alley.” You indicated, signaling a house, close by.
“Oh, fine.” Keigo said, not really understanding why you choose to walk instead of fly straight to your house, but he let it pass. “Lead the way, then.”
Both entered the alley which was being embraced by thin shadows and before you reached the other side, you turned around and looking at Hawks with embarrassment, you fidgeted with your fingers for a moment. Surprise morphed Keigo´s features comically when out of all the requests in the world, you suddenly asked. 
“May-may I give you a kiss?” You asked, timidly and noticing his bemused expression, corrected. “...As a way of thanking you.... for saving me....”
Your timid request took him by surprise momentarily, but soon his features regain his cool, and was quick to nod to then leant down. A kiss on the cheek, Keigo thought it to be innocent enough, not a usual request, nevertheless, a simple one. If this put you to rest, he'll humor you. Keigo was cocking his head for you to place your sweet lips.... it's now or never, you breathed deeply.... if you were going to use your quirk, now was the moment.
Two slender hands perched in each side of the Hero´s face and in a firm, straight movement, you cocked his face in your direction, surprise registered in his face, and his golden orbs popped open at the feeling of your lips locking with his.    
COMING SOON PART 2....
⭕️ In my PATREON you will find NSFW art of this chapter and more spicy MHA NSFW art and exclusive smut fanfiction.... Plus 'Spicy Foreplay tier reward' like: voting poll privilege for the exclusively Patreon one-shot stories where you can choose the couple pairing and kinky mood for the story and NSFW art, along with some naughty animation like THIS ONE ....and my eternal and vast gratitude for your support!!!
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httpsdrewstarkey · 15 days
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i would like to see drew starkey x popstar!reader like tate mcrae or olivia rodrigo
Backstage Moments || Drew Starkey
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authors note: enjoy anon!!! 🥰
Y/N sat on the hotel balcony; her knees tucked to her chest as the city lights stretched endlessly below. The air was cool, and the faint hum of traffic buzzed in the distance, but all she could focus on was the buzzing phone on the table beside her. Another reminder of the whirlwind her life had become. Just hours earlier, she’d wrapped up a meeting with her team, where they talked logistics for her upcoming international tour. The tour she’d dreamed of since she was a teenager, as her manager rattled off numbers, dates, and sold-out venues, the excitement that used to flood her veins now felt like an undercurrent, muted by something heavier.
“Hey, baby.” Drew’s voice was warm as he stepped onto the balcony, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket. He lit one with ease, the small flicker of the lighter casting a soft glow across his face for a moment.
Y/N looked up and smiled softly at him, feeling a wave of comfort just from his presence. “Hey,” she murmured, shifting slightly in her seat as he sat down next to her.
He inhaled the smoke, exhaling slowly as he studied her face. “You nervous about tomorrow?” he asked, reaching out to rest his hand on her leg, gently pulling her feet onto his lap. His fingers absentmindedly running up and down her leg, grounding her.
She gave a small shrug, brushing a hand through her hair. “I always am,” she admitted quietly, the tension in her shoulders palpable.
Drew’s lips quirked into a smile, his thumb stroking her skin in soft circles. “You’ll be incredible. You always are.”
And just like that, his words—steady, unshakeable—settled some of the weight in her chest. She leaned back in her chair, the corners of her mouth lifting in a faint smile. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” she whispered, almost to herself.
The pre-show chaos was in full swing. Y/N sat in her dressing room, a cozy pair of sweats on while her makeup artist worked her magic. The familiar click and hum of hair rollers being set into place filled the air as they laughed over a joke Y/N had made. But behind the laughter, there was that gnawing feeling of anxiety creeping in, tightening its grip the closer they got to showtime.
Drew sat on the couch in the back of the room, one leg crossed over the other, phone in hand. But he wasn’t really paying attention to it. Instead, his eyes kept drifting back to her reflection in the mirror. He could see the way she smiled so effortlessly, chatting away with the team like she wasn’t moments away from stepping onto a stage in front of thousands. From the outside, she looked calm—like she had it all together. But Drew knew better. He knew her little tells—the way her fingers fiddled with the edge of her sleeve, the subtle tension in her jaw when she thought no one was watching. She was nervous, worried about every little detail.
He loved that about her. The way she cared so deeply about getting it right. She never half-assed anything; she was all in, always.
Y/N was so different from anyone he’d ever known. Where he could be reserved, preferring quieter moments and more intimate spaces, she thrived in the noise, in the crowd. She had a confidence that was intoxicating, an energy that drew people to her without her even trying. On stage, she was electric and sexy, her presence so magnetic it was impossible to look away. The way she moved, the way she owned the space—she was fierce, sensual, and completely in control.
And yet, off-stage, she was the opposite. Vulnerable, thoughtful, deeply empathetic. She had this rare ability to balance both worlds—the wild, untouchable star and the girl who curled up beside him at night, her head on his chest, telling him about her dreams in a whisper.
“You look gorgeous,” Drew said, standing up and walking over to her as the makeup artist stepped away for a moment. He bent down and kissed her forehead gently, careful not to disturb her makeup. “Completely stunning.”
She smiled up at him, the kind of smile that reached her eyes, making them sparkle with something more than just excitement for the show. “Thank you,” she whispered, her hand reaching up to touch his arm. “I’m glad you’re here with me.”
There was something in the way she said it that made his chest tighten. Even after all this time together, she still gave him butterflies. There was something raw and real about her, something that went deeper than the fame, the flashing lights, or the music. She was his grounding force, and he was hers.
Before the show began, Y/N’s photographer approached them, “Could I get a quick photo of you two before things get hectic?” he asked, his camera already poised.
Drew and Y/N exchanged a smile as he wrapped his arm around her waist, giving her a small, affectionate squeeze. Y/N leaned into him, their expressions glowing with genuine affection. As the photographer snapped the picture, her nerves seemed to settle.
As the photographer began to walk away, Drew turned to look at her. his gaze softened as he cupped both sides of her jaw. “You’re going to be incredible, honey,” he said softly.
He pulled her into a warm hug, his arms resting comfortably on her shoulders, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her forehead, whispering an “I love you.” The tender gesture was filled with reassurance and unwavering support, a quiet promise of his presence through it all.
As he made his way outside the venue, the roar of the crowd met him like a wave, screams intensifying as soon as the fans spotted him. He smiled, offering a small wave as he walked towards the VIP section. A few fans called out his name, and he stopped briefly to take photos and chat with them, all the while feeling the excitement building inside him. He was proud of her—not just for who she was on stage but for the woman she was behind the scenes. The girl who still got nervous before every performance but always found a way to shine through it.
As he made his way to the VIP section, his heart swelled with a mix of pride and love. She was about to take the stage, and he knew she’d blow everyone away. But to him, she wasn’t just the pop star. She was Y/N. The girl who kicked his ass at Mario Kart, who made the best pancakes on Sunday mornings, who danced around their living room when she thought no one was watching.
He smiled to himself as he found his seat, the crowd buzzing with anticipation for her to take the stage. She was about to show the world what he already knew—she was unstoppable.
And as the lights dimmed and the first notes of her song played, Drew’s heart pounded with a familiar rhythm. He would always be here, in the front row, cheering her on. Because no matter how high she soared, he knew their love was the one thing that kept them both grounded.
When she finally stepped onto the stage, the crowd’s roar was a wave that crashed over her. Drew pulled out his phone, capturing the moment with a quick picture. He looked at the picture with a proud smile, a small giggle escaping his lips. The image of Y/N, radiant and poised, was not just a memento for him but a moment he knew would make waves online. Fans would swoon over the intimate detail—the proud boyfriend taking a picture of his girl in her element. It was a snapshot of their shared journey, that he would always cherish.
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delirious-donna · 6 months
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Awake At The Witching Hour [Part Four]
story summary: Your best friend lets you crash at her place over the spring break since you have nowhere else to go. Little did you know that it isn't actually her place. Instead, it belongs to a tall (grumpy) hot guy who finds you in his apartment–her brother.
chapter summary: You can't sleep and it seems your handsome host can't either. What is there to do in the middle of the night?
pairings: Nanami Kento x female reader
warnings: NSFW, mutual masturbation (but separate, you’ll get the gist), Nanami being pent up, imaginations running wild (both Nanami and reader), cumshot, reader described as being generous and soft in body
Part Three | Series Masterlist | Part Five
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The witching hour. When it is said that the veil between worlds is at its thinnest, and the power of the nefarious is at its strongest.
You weren’t entirely sure what had roused you. No sense of fear gripped your heart so you doubted it was due to some bad dream, though it had taken a moment to remember where you were.
Black velvet darkness impaired your vision at first, drowsiness adding to your inability to pick out the details of the room you were lying in. The air was pleasantly cool against your warm sleep-soaked skin. You pushed back the duvet to feel the faint breeze play across the soft squidge of your abdomen—the oversized t-shirt you wore pushed up to your chest in the disarray of a tumultuous sleep.
The events of the day unfurled in your mind’s eye like a low budget movie. It still didn’t feel real, though you well remembered the blind panic and sense of anger then irritation at being walked in on whilst bathing. No, not walked in, leapt in on. Now that you knew Nanami Kento a little better it was hard to fight the smile that rose to your lips in memory.
He seemed so different at that moment, the booming “booo” not something you would ever expect from the rigid man he had been since then. You wondered if he was a little more relaxed with his friends and loved ones. Did he even have friends?
A suspicion told you that he was the type to keep to himself, or maybe one or two close friends at most. That was relatable, and made him all the more human in your eyes. What might he be like as a boyfriend, you wondered? Attentive and loving or distant and cold? Either was possible, as well as a multitude of other attributes and combinations.
Sighing deeply, you turned onto your side and pulled the covers up to your chin now that your body had cooled from the stream of air that crept in from the ajar window. A glance at your phone told you it was late—an hour you should be asleep at—but you were annoyingly awake.
It seemed the only thing on your mind was that of the man asleep in the room next to yours. A man that didn’t want anything to do with you, a perfect stranger. Yet, you couldn’t help but wonder… couldn’t help but fantantise that he could be interested. If he were to knock on your door right now, his hazel eyes, dark pools speared with lightning, and desire evident on his cheeks you would welcome him.
Did he sleep naked? The thought of all that glorious skin bare beneath covers that matched the ones you were snuggled under sent a throb directly between your legs. You were developing a second heartbeat at an alarming rate and it was all his fault. It was ridiculous how good looking he was, and what made it worse was he didn’t seem to know it. You imagined your fingers running through his neatly parted hair and knew he would look even sexier with it all mussed. The just fucked look.
He was well built and definitely strong. Biceps didn’t bulge against shirt sleeves in the way his did if you weren’t bench pressing a decent amount regularly. That and the small home gym were more than enough to know with certainty that if he meant business, you’d be in a heap of trouble. In the best way. Your mind whispered, and you felt fiery warmth fill your cheeks.
You weren’t honestly sure when your hand had begun to stray.
The peaks of your nipples rubbed against your shirt, thumb and finger tweaking the sensitive buds and rolling them deftly until your thighs pressed together at the crave for friction. It was wrong to be thinking such lewd thoughts of your generous host—unwilling as he might have started out—but you couldn’t stop. Kento’s broad frame filled your mind, the looming shadow dwarving you enough to make you feel diminutive by comparison, and equally as thrilled.
The laboured breathing of his barreled chest hard to resist, the rise and fall evidence of a man close to the limit of his restraint and you badly wanted to reach out and touch him. Wild desire radiating from his every pore like a heady musk that you inhaled greedily, longing to become entirely intoxicated by him. Who would break first in the game of lust and longing? Regardless of the answer, there would be no loser.
This was so wrong. So stupendously wrong, not to mention, futile. A veil of madness shrouded the bed and you couldn’t stop nor did you actually wish to. In the darkest part of the night your deepest desires unfolded in perfect clarity. He ticked so many boxes and left question marks in many more. An enigma that you longed to solve. A riddle that you wanted to crow over the answer when it finally revealed itself.
Nanami Kento…
Your fingers dipped beneath the waistband of your underwear, eyes widened at the searing heat you encountered. The skin of your pubic mound was warm to the touch, but as you raked through the neatly trimmed hairs and moved closer to the heart of your sex, it increased tenfold. You might have hissed if you weren’t concerned with making any noise that could alert the object of your arousal. Wetness glided over the pads of your fingertips, sticky and abundant. It spread along your plump folds engorged with blood until your tented knees butterflied outwards and you could feel the twitching urge to toy with your clit.
What would he think of this madness? A young woman intent on masturbating to the thought of him. Would he deepen that permanently etched scowl and reprimand you? And why did even the idea of that outcome spark the ends of your nerves with raw electricity?
Speaking of the man in question, he was awake. Blinking into the darkness as if the ceiling held the answer to his current dilemma. That dilemma being the tent in his tight navy boxer briefs.
Without looking, he palmed himself and manoeuvred his cock to lie flush against his thigh. There. Now it didn’t appear like he was pitching a tent that could sleep a family of four. Instead, the heat of his erection seeped into him and roused his mind all the more.
His dreams had been a jumbled black and white mess, an indicator for the state of his mind. Sleep had found him easily, but the wrinkled and twisted covers showed that it had not been a sound slumber.
Kento puffed, grumpy and aching. He couldn’t recall the last time he wrapped his palm around himself to let off some steam. It had always seemed like a poor use of his time. Opting for cold showers to numb his swollen member, focusing on getting in a rigorous albeit begrudged workout in before the commute to work.
He baulked at the realisation he hadn’t cum in nearly six months. The last time he entertained the idea of dating even further back than that. So what was different?
You. You were something different. Smiling before he could school his features into neutrality, he surmised that your presence was fucking with more than just his routine. It was you that he thought of when he adjusted himself, trying and failing not to think of your smaller fingers around his shaft.
“What is wrong with me?”
He recalled the smile you gifted him when you parted ways for the night, how your small hand had once again reached out to lightly touch his bicep in thanks for carrying your small suitcase into the room. His cock twitched in response. Groaning, he smacked the pillow next to him over his face. If he were a dog his tail would be wagging. Not just a dog, more like a mongrel.
Kento swore your scent lingered in his room. The wafts of your perfume were stronger in the bathroom and he tried to ignore the subtle sweetness even as it infused inside his nose. Right now, it seemed to have settled into his sheets and he longed to bury his nose in the high count cotton and inhale deeply. Nothing was dissuading him from lowering the band of his briefs until he stood proudly erect.
Maybe if he satisfied the urge now, the fog that clouded his judgement would clear and all would be right again. That was what he told himself while pulling back the covers to free himself. Precum dribbled from the angry slit of his cockhead, turning the near purple tip glossy and sticky.
His thumb swiped through the mess and his hips rose instinctively. Behind his shuttered eyelids he saw you approach the bed, generous hips swaying clad in the softest satin. In truth, he couldn’t give a fuck for expensive lingerie, but it was aesthetically pleasing and this was his fantasy so why not indulge? He’d be just as happy to greet you in sweats or better yet… his shirt.
Oh fuck.
The tendons in his neck strained, head thrown back whilst he pumped himself lazily at first. Would you be shy in bed? Assertive? Would you drop your jaw to let your tongue run over the seam of his balls whilst using that quick witted mouth of yours on him?
The unknown was almost more tantalising to him than the act itself. It had been so long since the experience of working someone out appealed to him. To learn their nuances and what made them tick. More specifically, your nuances and what made you tick.
With months of denying himself under his belt, it didn’t take long for Kento to feel that familiar tingle begin at the small of his back. His balls drew tight and full, and he flushed a darker red at how easily he was ready to cum. His free hand clenched into a fist, the cotton of the sheets held tightly whilst his toes curled. A guttural groan escaped his throat before he could smother it, quickly biting his lip as spurts of hot cum lashed his quivering stomach. Warm honeyed pleasure dripped in inversion from the bottom of his spine to the base of his skull until his eyes rolled over.
Kento slowed the stroke of his hand, wringing his cock of every last drop until he was close to whimpering from the sensitivity. Panting from the far too quick ejaculation, his eyebrows pinched at the mess he had made. Streaks of milky release pooled near his navel, his hand and softening cock sticky and webbed from the moment of madness. As soon as he was certain his legs would work, he trudged into the bathroom to clean up with guilt weighing heavy in his gut.
A similar sensation burned in the pit of your stomach. Your chest heaved from the release you’d found, but it came at a price and now you were paying it.
You didn’t regret your actions but there was still a guilt associated with them. You were two unattached adults, and you couldn’t deny or sweep aside your attraction to Kento any longer, but he was Karin’s brother. He should be forbidden. You wouldn’t give oxygen to the mean voice in your head that said she deserved it for not telling you about him sooner.
The little pulsing aftershocks of your orgasm were fading, fingers sticky from how you had done your best to fuck yourself before switching to manipulating your sensitive pearl until white sparked in your vision. All the while you thought of how it would look to have his head between your thighs, his mouth on your pussy and your fingers tangled in his hair. Would he eat you sloppily or bite at the tender inside of your thighs? Would he welcome you rutting yourself against his mouth or would he hold your hips steady?
You sat up, legs wobbly when your feet fell to the floor. The bathroom wasn’t far and you needed to clean up and change your underwear. The reflection in the mirror over the sink looked hesitant despite the soft glow your skin exuded. A healthy dose of dopamine and the pump of blood circulating your body brightened you up even though it was the middle of the night, and you looked away with a troubled sigh.
The apartment was silent, your footsteps the only sound as you tiptoed barefoot into the kitchen for a glass of water before heading back to bed. Leaning your forehead against the cabinet, you listened to the rushing water for a moment or two longer than necessary before filling a glass and taking a sip. The sound masked the footsteps that approached, pausing then continuing on.
“Oh, you’re awake.”
A strangled scream caught fast in your throat, muffled by the water now rushing down the wrong way and making you cough and splutter. You whirled on the spot and came face to chest with the man you had spent the last half hour pleasuring yourself to the thought of.
Kento was bare chested—a fact your bulging eyes couldn’t believe—with a faint smattering of ash-coloured hairs decorating between his meaty pectorals and leading down towards his stomach. You didn’t dare follow it any further for fear of knowing whether it went right down to his happy trail, a fact that most definitely would see you moaning aloud.
A pair of pale blue pyjama trousers hid the rest of him and you were grateful for that. He stalled next to the kitchen island, an unreadable expression on his face, and were his ears red? It would be comical if you weren’t burning with mortification. Your heartbeat raced so thunderously that it was amazing he couldn’t hear it from across the room.
“I… couldn’t sleep,” you finally offered once you could breathe again without coughing.
His eyes seemed to search your features, whether for signs of lying or something else, you weren’t completely sure. At last, he nodded and walked closer to grab his own glass and fill it with water.
The silence was oppressive, thick and charged with an energy that bristled down Kento’s spine. “Do you need anything?”
Your head snapped around so fast he was surprised you didn’t give yourself whiplash. If he didn’t know any better he would say that warmth seemed to fill your face. The question was innocent but perhaps… no. He was trying to see things that weren’t there.
“An extra pillow. A thicker duvet.” He elaborated when you didn’t answer.
Having this casual conversation was excruciating enough given what he had just done to the image of you in his mind. It was made worse with the realisation that the reality of you was so much more appealing than his imagination could ever conjure.
The almost comically oversized t-shirt you wore dragged nearly to your knees, with the sleeves reaching well past your elbows. It kept your modesty intact and the mystery of it all made his mouth water. Discovering the curves of your body, which parts dipped and the soft rolls of your body would be hours of fun if he were given the chance, not that he would be. He idly wondered if you would look this good in one of his shirts before dismissing the thought, or trying to.
His cock twitched in his clean briefs and he cleared his throat and turned away, terrified of pitching another tent when one was not wanted nor needed. Kento didn’t need to think about how close you were, how all he had to do was reach out a hand and discover whether you would step away or approach. He couldn’t decide which outcome would be the better one.
“No, I don’t need a pillow or anything like that,” you said finally, though you left the sentence hanging because you did want something, but you couldn’t tell him that. “I’m just adjusting to sleeping in a new place, I’ll be fine.”
“Alright, but don’t hesitate if there is something I can do to help.”
You could stop looking like a damn five course meal.
The thought was in your mind so suddenly you nearly gasped, instead, masking it by taking a long gulp of water and walking towards the hallway. You needed to put some distance between you, to retreat to the relative safety of your room and chastise yourself for being no better than a lustful bunny.
With a faux smile and an appreciative nod, you turned one last time to glance at him. “Thank you, Kento.”
Kento watched you slip out of sight, back along the darkened hallway and listened to the soft snick of your bedroom closing shut. He was throbbing, a hand drifted to his crotch to hide what was growing. That was the first time you had called him by his given name, and he liked it.
What a mess, he thought whilst returning to bed. His eyes never wavered from your door until he was safely behind his own. His guts still twisted in memory of his unsavoury actions, but something more pressing was on his mind as he screwed his eyes shut and prayed for sleep.
I want to hear my name from your lips again…
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