#sorry I’m being indulgent on main today | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sharkikive · 7 months ago

Note

Ken Sato with a supermodel!reader pls pls pls

Like they're dating in secret but accidentally reveals their situation and their fans go wild

OMG sure! Sorry this took time for me to write and I really do hope you'll like it <3

runway to your heart (ken sato x supermodel!fem!reader)

Summary: A baseball player and a supermodel, both celebrities in their respective fields. A relationship that had to be kept under wraps.

It was supposed to be a secret... until it wasn't.

Word count: 6,913

CW: Fluff, slightly suggestive (he def talks you through it), Ken Sato being the boyfriend of the year

A/N: I tried my best in writing this because I am not familiar with both fields (baseball and modelling) so here you go! This was purely out of my own imagination and is very, very self-indulgent because damn, who wouldn't want Ken Sato in their life? Rich, soft spoken, a good father, and the list goes on. Hope you enjoy this one just like how I kicked my feet every single time Ken becomes THE boyfriend.

***

Cheers erupted throughout the whole stadium and through the speakers, mixing in with the noise in the dressing room.

Hair rollers tucked in, brush with powder dancing across your face, and a neutral expression to let the makeup artist do his magic. Your eyes dutifully closed as the artist worked on your eyelids, but your ears got sharper to hear the conversations around you.

You knew who the main topic in the room would be, and that was the man that had just scored another point in the game on screen.

“Oh God,” you heard one of your model colleagues groan. “Ken Sato is too attractive. Look at that smile, that body-” she stopped talking and addressed you next. “Y/N, isn’t Ken Sato so handsome? Imagine being his girlfriend. That would be a-ma-zing.”

Your eyes were still closed and you hummed an immediate reply. “He’s okay. I’ve seen better and-” You opened your eyes when the makeup artist told you that he’s done with your eyes. “He seems like a cocky bastard.”

Your colleague, Hina, gave an exaggerated gasp as she heard your reply. “You did not just say that about Ken Sato. If he isn’t your type, I wouldn’t know who else would be able to satisfy you. He is the most sought-after man.”

You shrugged. “You never know. Maybe I like a single dad who has to raise a kid on his own, with him himself having daddy issues.”

Hina narrowed her eyes at you suspiciously, before prancing over and stared at you. “You know that whatever you described was very specific? Y/N,” she said, almost quietly, “are you seeing someone?”

“Yeah, I’m seeing you, Hina.”

She clicked her tongue. “You know, you always answer so smartly. One day, Y/N, I will discover your secret!”

You chuckled, watching as Hina got dragged by the stylist, prepping her to get her up to the runway. Your turn was still a long way to go, so you were left with your hair held up by rollers, while your eyes caught a notification on your phone. You read the notification and smiled, but quickly returned to a neutral expression.

The message read: It’s another win for us tonight, baby. Can’t wait to see you after this. Good luck for your show today, and break a leg. I know you’ll do great.

You typed in a reply, quickly snapping a picture of your prepped face and sending it over to the recipient. You weren’t even able to put down your phone when the next reply came in the next second.

You swore, this person could make you smile without even knowing, which could be a very risky thing considering the nature of both of your relationship.

Looking gorgeous as always, baby. The text message read. I really am the luckiest man to have you.

You put down your phone as your name was called over; your turn was approaching fast. You were practically floating around from one point to another, having different hands adding last-minute touch ups.

The line was moving fast before it was your turn, and you could see that every one of the models who finished their turn returned with a grim look on their faces backstage. You looked at the small entrance, and when you spotted Hina, you quickly signaled for her to come over.

“Was the runway condition that bad?” you whispered to her, whose hair was going in different directions at once.

“They said they wanted to simulate an ‘extreme condition’ on the runway, right?” She did quotation marks.

You nodded, agreeing to her. “Yeah.” You inched up the line. “The theme for today’s show is extreme weather.”

Hina exhaled slowly as she attempted to fix her hair. “All I can say is that they managed to replicate it well.” She shook her head. “Good luck, Y/N. You’ll need it.”

You turned your head back to the front, your turn coming closer as the models in front of you went out to continue the show. It was a rapid show, where you finally had your turn right after Hina disappeared behind a row of clothes.

You understood what Hina meant as soon as one foot was out from behind the scenes. The runway was boxed within a transparent glass, protecting the simulation from the audience.

From years of experience, you put on your best face before walking down the runway, doing your best in showing off the collection.

You were sure they were trying to imitate a blizzard, but the worst they could offer to models wearing heavy dresses and high heels. You saw the model in front of you fall first, the strong winds knocking her back before as she couldn’t fight it back.

One rule on the runway: you keep on walking, no matter the condition. Walk over your fellow models, maintain your expression and show off what you have. It’s an unapologetic world out here.

But that’s exactly the reason why you’re known as the rule breaker around here.

While maintaining your face, you did a show of reaching out to the fallen model, helping her up to let her continue, but you figured this time around, being a rule breaker did have its consequences.

You knew the fallen model; she considered herself as your rival, always trying to one up you in every single aspect. Every, single, aspect including boasting about having a ‘sweetheart’ while you don’t.

Your rival, Mei, quickly took this as a chance to get back at you and embarrass you in front of the audience. She accepted your hand at first, but you realised that she was pulling you down instead of pushing herself up. Not enough with it, she added an extra push, disguised under the pretext of accepting your help to get up.

You were thrown to the side, and coupled with the condition on the runway, you almost tumbled off the path. Luckily, you managed to break the fall but as you landed sideways, you could feel the bruise forming near your right ankle. You cursed silently as you saw Mei picking herself back up and smirking in a split second before strutting away, leaving you stranded.

You knew no one was going to help you up as long as the show was on, so you braced yourself while continuing. Throughout the whole show, you managed to finish without breaking rhythm. You didn’t let the pain hinder you, although all you wished to do was to be lying down, giving your body a much needed rest.

Backstage after the end of the show, your manager, a sweet woman in her 40s, quickly rushed to you. A single mother of 2, Ms. Tornado as you’d like to call her, as she always seemed like she was caught up in something chaotic. She fussed over you, but you quickly brushed her away.

”Ms. Tor,” you cooed, hiding the pain with a calm demeanour, “I’m done for the day. Let’s go back.”

On the way out, you gave a signal of reassurance towards Hina, who looked worried while her right fingers were tapping on her left knuckles. You saw Mei smirking at you, offering no words to you. You gave her no satisfaction of seeing you in pain as you smiled back.

You knew that everyone had seen you fall on the runway, but that didn’t disturb you.

Your phone pinged with a notification. As you read the message in the car, you turned to Ms. Tornado on the driver’s seat. She understood your signal.

”Usual place?” she asked.

Unable to hide your excitement, you quickly nodded.

No further questions asked as she drove towards the city border, bringing you to one special spot you had practically owned with that one person. In fact, you’re sure that he had bought ownership over the whole area. Your smile grew wider as you spotted the person waiting on a camping chair with an empty one next to it, a campfire lit up.

You sneaked up from behind, forgetting the pain in your legs as you broke into a run, almost causing the person to tumble forward as you hugged him from behind.

”Kenji!” You exclaimed, your character a total 180 degrees from whatever you put on when you were ‘the supermodel who revived the fashion scene’.

With him, you allowed yourself to be comfortable; no pretense of having to check your posture, controlling your expressions or giving off a cold demeanour. With him, you were just Y/N, the girl who preferred to be nested in your home, finishing your time up by watching your same favourite shows over and over again.

Kind of ironic how you considered yourself an introvert yet landed a job that essentially thrusted you into the spotlight.

Kenji exclaimed your name back in the same energy you gave him, hugging your arms as he planted a kiss on the back of your hand. He stood up and dear God, you love this man so much. One of your features that contributed to your modelling career was your height, but you loved the fact that even then, he towered over you.

Ken Sato, the name that had revived Japan’s baseball team, who had acquired a celebrity status after essentially becoming the saviour.

Ken Sato, the man who had kept the audience on the edge of their seats as he scored yet another point in the game.

Ken Sato, the one man who had essentially saved your life while unironically revealing his one kept secret to you.

And Ken Sato, your boyfriend.

Though both of your relationships had to be kept under the radar due to your statuses, you were content with what you’re having now.

Who cares if people think you’re too ‘cold’ and that’s why no one wants you? A small smile played on your lips as you thought, Well, Ken Sato does.

How both of you met was bizarre, to say the least. You were out eating dinner alone, under the disguise that you always wore when you’re just a ‘normal’ citizen, when the ground shook. You were sure that there was a monster attack somewhere, but you were calmly eating dinner when the restaurant’s roof got lifted up.

Ultraman’s giant figure was punching the monster, and you were left gaping at the sudden loss of roof above your head. You quickly finished up your dinner, and when you were about to walk back to your condo, you saw the one thing that you were sure you shouldn’t.

You saw Ultraman shifting back into a human-sized figure and lo and behold, it was Ken Sato. Before, you never bothered to dig deeper into his life because you figured out that you would never be affiliated with the baseball scene. You knew he was famous and that was it.

You couldn’t believe your eyes so you gasped, but your hand wasn’t quick enough to muffle the sound until he turned back to look at you. Both were stone statues for a good minute before he finally spoke up at that time, “Um… can you keep… uh the… secret?”

You sure as hell did keep the secret that even after a drunken stupor, a one night stand then turned into a secret relationship with him, it was still safe with you.

You were so comfortable with him up to the point that it was nice to be yourself with him.

”What’s wrong, baby?” He planted a kiss on your forehead, bringing you back to the present. You inhaled his scent as you buried your face in his chest. “You’re thinking of something?”

You shook your head, tightening your grip around his waist. “Nah,” you mumbled. “Just thinking about the time we first met.”

He chuckled as he ruffled your hair. “I’m sure you did great in your show just now, hmm?”

You stayed quiet, debating or not whether you’d like to tell him what actually happened. He most likely hadn’t seen the show yet, but sooner or later he’d find out. It’s just a matter of now or later.

You were in your comfortable clothes; baggy t-shirt with cargo pants and hair tucked underneath a beanie. In public, people would usually leave you alone when you’re in this attire. Today though, the long pants were also an attempt for you to cover up the growing bruise.

You decided to keep quiet about the bruise, figuring later that he would find out and by then, you hoped it wouldn’t look as bad as it was now. You detached yourself from his hug, careful to not make it so obvious that you were limping. You took a seat, beckoning for him to come over.

Ken traced you with his eyes, lips locked before he smiled. He passed by his seat but didn’t settle down. Instead, he sat cross-legged on the sand, facing you. He leaned forward, crossing his arms with each other on your legs and rested his chin on top. He looked up at you, that same boyish smile he had whenever he was with you.

You looked at him, uttering, “Looks like my boyfriend won yet another game today.” You patted his cheeks, and he quickly grabbed your hands to hold them.

”It was the team, really,” he said humbly, but with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “I was just one of the players.”

”Whatever you say, Mr.-eligible-bachelor-with-thousands-of-adoring-fans-waiting-to-be-picked.” You rolled your eyes.

He chuckled. “Little do they know,” he drew circles on your palm, “that I’m no longer available.”

He stared at you as you looked into the distance, the crashing of the waves filling in the silence between both of you. He stood up, cocking his head towards the shoreline. “Wanna go for a walk?”

You pressed your lips into a thin line, the trouble you had with your feet coming once again. You didn’t get a chance to answer as he knelt in front of you with his back towards you.

He gently pulled you on his back, your legs dangling on either side of his body as he piggybacked you. “Okay, let’s go for a walk,” he said, firmly placing his hands under your thighs.

You said nothing, circling your arms around his shoulders, your face buried at the nape of his neck. You loved the fact that you’re always calm around him, something that you’d always need after spending hours in a fast-paced environment for work every day.

As you walked along the shoreline, both of you pointed out stars shaped like objects, and he stopped at one point when you suddenly said, “I love you so much, do you know that?”

He laughed. “What’s with the sudden confession? I love you too, baby.” He gave your thigh a light slap. “And I’m glad to call you mine.”

”It’s time to go back, isn’t it?” You asked, hoping the answer would be no but knew the world would have to end for it to be.

He threw back his head to get a look of your face before uttering, “Sorry. I have a game tomorrow.”

You pouted slightly but knew that the circumstances wouldn’t change. Whether you’d like it or not, even though you didn’t mind your relationship was playing this way, both of you had your individual lives that didn’t intersect with each other.

Dates would always be a secret with limited areas you could go to, and you had to make sure you’re not seen within the vicinity of each other. If both of you needed to go to each other’s house, it felt more like you’re on an undercover mission.

Today, though, with you still on his back, he held onto you firmly and made his way back to his bike parked nearby some bushes.

”Kenji-“ you started, figuring that maybe he forgot that both of you were supposed to follow separate ways.

”Tell Ms. Tornado you’re staying at my house tonight,” he uttered, placing you on his bike’s seat, taking a helmet and helping you to put it on. “You’re sleeping at my house today.” He checked his watch. “I know that you don’t have any work scheduled for the next few days, right?”

You shook your head slowly, secretly happy that he actually kept track of your schedule. Your eyes searched for his from behind the visor, and you blinked slowly as he tapped your helmet.

“Stay at my house until you’re fully healed. Mina can take care of you.” He’s referring to the supercomputer his parents had programmed. He wore his helmet and leaned forward. If not for both of your helmets in place, he’d be resting his forehead against yours. “Of course, you’re welcome to continue staying until…” he winked, “whenever.”

He positioned himself in front of you, powering up his bike. You leaned forward, circling your arms around his waist.

Before your voice got swallowed by the roar of his bike, you said, “You knew I was hurt.”

Underneath his helmet he smiled. “I always do, baby. Always.”

***

One of the reasons you didn’t want to stay at his house for too long was because you knew you’d be too comfortable. It seemed that after the fiasco you ran into with Mei, Ms. Tornado told you that she was suspended from any work and your agency gave you time off.

So here you were, warm mug of coffee in hand, cross-legged on Ken’s sofa while wearing one of his hoodies. So far from your side, your manager was the only person who’d known about your secret relationship with the baseball player. You’re grateful that your agency was not the type to pry into your private life, so long it didn’t affect your work.

You made yourself right at home at Ken’s house. You could say that you became best friends with Mina, with her occasionally sharing stories about how Ken was when growing up and you helping her around the house.

You sunk in the plush sofa, watching a live show of another one of Ken’s games. You saw him turn to the camera, winked and did a secret sign that was directed at you. Seeing how he’s so expressive, you wondered whether Ken actually wanted your relationship to be public.

Even then, you wondered whether anyone actually noticed that Ken started doing the same pose to the camera whenever he scored a point, after he got into the relationship with you. Maybe the secrecy of your relationship was just held back by a single click to post on the Net.

As far as you knew, only five were aware of this relationship; both of you, your manager, Mina and Kenji’s father.

Rather than your own reputation, you’re worried more for Ken’s image. He just moved here from America, carrying the expectations of everyone who had set their eyes upon him. He rose to fame real quick, while you’d already established your foundation right in your hometown as you were raised through a family generation of models.

Night was approaching, and you did catch a message from Ken updating you that he would be joining the group dinner to celebrate their win first. He promised to come back as soon as the dinner was finished. While waiting for him, you caught Mina’s red bar from the corner of your eyes and you smiled at her.

“Y/N, Ken had actually asked me to ask you one important question.”

“Sure, what is it, Mina?”

Immediately, Mina displayed a projection showing a website of a furniture store. She changed the page to the ‘bed frames’ category.

“I was told that the bed broke last night. Ken told me this morning to ask you which ones would you prefer,” Mina said without any hint of emotion. “He didn’t want to disturb you while you’re sleeping this morning.” After remembering another point she added, “He said make sure to pick the strong ones.”

You, on the other hand, were already burying your face in your hand as your cheeks reddened. “Oh my God,” you groaned. He could go one day, one day, without making you blush. It didn’t help that Mina was delivering the message so robotically. Well, she was one, but you get the point. “Mina, can we talk about this… some other time? Don’t worry,” you pressed your lips into a thin line as you remembered how exactly the bed broke last night. “I’ll tell Ken that you delivered the message well.”

Mina backed up, doing her gesture akin to a nod. “Sure, Y/N.”

You turned your head towards the front door when you heard the door opening, and you stalked your way to your boyfriend, who was holding his jacket in his left hand. Your face fell when you saw that he was wincing, the skin near his eye bruised and his right hand gently pressing over the injury.

“What happened to you?” You fussed over him, requesting Mina to take a bucket of ice and a cloth. “Who did this?”

He winced once again, but grinned soon after. He threw his jacket on the sofa and grabbed your waist, kissing you, hard. It was like he was releasing whatever pent up frustrations he had the whole day, drunk in your kiss that you felt out of breath as soon as he let go.

You saw Mina hovering nearby, clearly not wanting to disturb both of you. You cleared your throat and Ken ran a hand through his hair.

Mina set down the requested bowl of ice and cloth, but Ken shook his head.

Ken uttered, “Mina, can you please bring a bucket of ice to the bathroom? I’d like to soak myself in the tub.”

“Sure, Ken.”

“Ken, you need to tell me what happened to you. You’re injured, for God’s sake!” Your eyebrows knitted in worry, but your boyfriend was displaying the opposite as he was happily dragging you along to the bathroom.

He only gave you a peck on your forehead as Mina helped to prepare the bath.

You wouldn’t let your eyes off his injuries, assessing how badly he was hurt. As Mina excused herself to leave both of you in the bathroom alone, he stripped and stepped into the tub. The water sloshed around as he settled down, and you gritted your teeth as you sat on the edge of the bathtub.

He lifted up his eyebrows, clearly teasing you. “Care to join me?”

You sighed, clearly dissatisfied at how he’s acting while not disclosing about what had happened to him until he returned with a black eye. You crossed your arms, not wanting to submit to his pleading eyes, not until he told you what happened.

Clearly, you were not strong against this man because now both of you were stark naked in the cold water, Ken hugging you from behind as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“Now tell me what happened.”

Ken obliged. “So we went for a celebratory dinner at this one grilled meat restaurant.” He buried his face at the nape of your neck. “There was this one group of guys who clearly were too drunk. One of them,” you felt his arms tightening around your waist. “Was making inappropriate comments about your body. My girlfriend. Of course I got pissed and punched him. It was an easy fight, but I was unlucky to get this one hit. I won, of course.”

The knot in your stomach got undone, that heavy feeling finally lifting off as you laughed, relieved. You leaned backwards, muttering, “Oh, Kenji. My idiot Kenji. I really thought you had an encounter with a hater, someone that wasn’t afraid to punch you in public just because they hate you. I was so worried. But didn’t your teammates suspect anything? For you to react that way when they’re talking about me.”

“Even if they do find out, it doesn’t matter. Anyone who speaks like that about you deserves to be punched, baby.” The water sloshed around as he turned you around so that both of you were facing each other. He rubbed a thumb over your lips, his mouth lifting at the corners. “And guess what?”

You narrowed your eyes. “What?”

“I got a personal invitation from one of the biggest sports brands here. They’re inviting me for an official photo shoot for their new attire collection.”

“That’s amazing, Kenji!” you exclaimed, and he shook his head, a smile plastered on his face.

“And you know what’s the best part? It’ll be a duo photo shoot, a collab with one of Japan’s famous models.”

“A man?” you asked, still clueless.

“A woman.” He grinned, “With my woman.”

“Oh!” You slapped a hand to your forehead, not believing that you hadn’t caught on when your manager had told you that you would be having an upcoming photo shoot with one of the most famous athletes. No wonder Ms. Tornado looked all smiley when she was delivering the news.

“They were surprised when I agreed to it without much questions,” he said. “Said yes as soon as I heard your name.”

***

Your leg was all healed, Ken’s bruise subsided, and it was finally the day of the photo shoot. Obviously, both of you had to come from a different place and at a different time to avoid any suspicion, so the night before you had returned to your house, despite Ken showing you his puppy eyes to make you stay.

You left without looking back, having to reassure him that both of you would see each other tomorrow.

The day came. In the makeup room, both of you had your lips locked, only a slight nod of greeting when he first came in before you returned your attention back to the mirror in front.

God knew how much Ken Sato was holding back from pulling you into a hug as soon as he saw you in the room.

You saw him from the corner of your eyes, his eyes closed as he let the brushes and artist do their work. You smiled, your mind thinking about how Hina would most likely go crazy once she heard that you had landed a job with this famous baseball player. You figured that you’d let her find out by herself once the official photo shoot had come out.

In the studio, both of you exchanged a formal greeting before the photo shoot started, and you could see that Ken was trying to hide from forming a smile on his face. As the camera started clicking and poses were thrown, you could hear the photographer yelling out encouragement, including ‘Don’t be shy with each other’ and ‘Stand closer’.

You heard Ken slightly snicker, and he whispered to you subtly, his lips slightly brushing your earlobe. You shivered, and he was smart enough to not let anyone see what he was doing. “If only they know how close we are.”

“Last set!” The photographer announced. “This time around, I’d like to see some contact with each other. No looking like you’re two magnets repelling each other, but attracting each other instead.”

“Oh I can do that,” Ken said smugly as he followed the photographer’s instructions.

Funnily enough, he was the one looking like he had more experience in modelling as he followed the photographer’s instructions to a T, while you felt more like a deflated balloon guided by your boyfriend.

You promised you were a professional model, but with him, well, you faltered and posed like you’re a novice instead. Still, you managed to pull through the photo shoot as the photographer gave a thumbs up, fully satisfied with the session today.

You took some time to relax after the photo shoot alone in the dressing room. As you were leaning against the chair, your head turned to look at the door that just opened.

Ken’s head popped up through the space and he waved his hand. “Hey,” he whispered. He looked over his shoulder before slipping into the room, locking the door behind him.

“Ken Sato,” you said, more of a warning. “What if someone sees you coming in?”

“It’s fine,” he walked over to you, and lifted you up in a hug.

Naturally, your legs coiled around him as he firmly placed his arms around you.

“I wanted to say goodbye in person before I leave for my game this evening. You’ll watch the game live, right?”

“Of course, I’ll be there.”

You practically jumped away from him as a knock came on the door and panicked, you opened the closet door before shoving him inside. You shut the closet tight, catching his eyes trailing your movement through the bars before putting a finger over your lips to signal silence. Steadying your breath, you opened the door to find the photographer standing outside.

“Oh hey, uh…” you trailed off as you realised that you didn’t know the camera man’s name.

“I’m Yuichiro,” he extended his hand to offer a handshake, but you politely declined with a nod of your head. “It’s uh,” he nervously chuckled. “I thought that you looked great and I found out that we’re the same age. I was wondering if you would like to, you know, go have coffee sometime. As in, uh, I’d like to take you out sometime.”

“Oh, really?” You swore you could feel Kenji’s stare digging through the man’s skull as you stole a glance towards the closet behind you. “That’s too bad because I uh,” You silently prayed that Ken wouldn’t suddenly spring out of the closet. “I am too busy. I don’t even have time to drink coffee myself.” You gave a professional smile, hoping that the man would take the hint and walk away.

“Not even coffee?”

“Not even coffee.” You sighed, shaking your head. “I don’t drink coffee, actually.”

“Oh.” He looked surprised. “But I thought I saw you drinking coffee this morning at the set.”

You shook your head, pretending to be disappointed. “I’m afraid you are hallucinating, my friend. I don’t drink coffee. Anyway,” you clapped your hand, “I need to get ready to go to my next destination for another photo shoot, so if you could please leave?”

He looked disappointed as he nodded. “I mean, yeah. Please go on your way. Sorry to take your time.”

You smiled politely but as soon as you closed the door and locked it, you jumped over to the closet, the door creaking as you pried it open. You saw Ken sitting on the floor, elbows resting on his knees as his bangs curtained his eyes. You sat down in front of him, moving his bangs out of his vision.

“Kenji…?” you started, trying to gauge his emotions.

He stayed quiet for a few moments, and you poked his stomach when it seemed like he’s not budging.

“Are you okay?”

He breathed in and out, before looking up. His eyes caught yours, but still you couldn’t read his expressions. “I experienced this new emotion,” he finally said.

You inched forward.

“You’re doing great, baby.” The compliment came out of nowhere that you were slightly taken aback.

“Kenji,” the grin on your face grew wider, “were you jealous?”

He never broke off his stare to you, and you found it so attractive. “I was.” His eyes dropped to your lips. “I was stopping myself from jumping out of the closet and announcing that you’re mine.”

“I am,” you uttered, ruffling his hair. “You better get going. You have a game to win.”

“I sure do.” He stood up and you mirrored his actions. Before he turned to leave, he kissed you on the lips and whispered again as he peppered kisses on your neck. “With this jealousy, let’s just hope the bed won’t break again tonight.”

***

Of course you lied to the photographer to politely decline his advances. Your schedule was free this evening and you had promised Ken you would see his game live. You dressed as inconspicuously as possible, donning on the merchandise jersey they sold to the public.

Ken had offered you to wear his jersey, but that would practically mean announcing your relationship to the public. Tucking your hair under the cap, putting on fake glasses and looking at yourself in the mirror, you figured how Clark Kent had managed to turn people’s suspicions away from him being the superhero.

Now, you’re just one person among the thousands of show-goers filling up the stadium. You took up your seat, eager to witness the game Ken would be joining. Announcement blared throughout the stadium, signalling that the game was about to start. You heard your boyfriend’s name announced as he stepped onto the field.

Giants’ supporters cheered for him, and you joined in on the hype as you saw him giving his million-dollar smile to the crowd. You waited for the game to start, and truth be told, no matter how many times Ken had explained the rules of the game, anything barely stuck to your brain. Still, you tried your best to support him even though that meant cheering for him blindly whenever the others did.

The crowd went wild again as the Giants scored yet another point.

You got distracted by a notification coming to your phone. You wanted to ignore it, but as you saw Hina’s name as the sender, you had to sit down and open the message. She rarely texts you out of work, so there must have been something out of the ordinary. You felt your heart drop as you read the message, and a link towards a news website was sent together.

Your eyes caught her message first. Oh my God?! You’ve been dating Ken Sato?

You read the headline next. BREAKING NEWS: BASEBALL PLAYER KEN SATO AND SUPERMODEL Y/N IN A RELATIONSHIP?

You stood up together with the rest of the cheering crowd, but you had to wrestle your way through to make your way out of the stadium. You didn’t know what to do, Kenji was still in game and your feet almost gave way as your shaky hands opened the link to read the news.

Everything was summed up in one news article, and you felt your world getting smaller as you saw the pictures of the night Ken had piggybacked you after you hurt your leg, all obviously looking like they were taken in secret. You read through the whole article, your ears deafened by the sound of roaring cheers inside the stadium.

You were standing outside the stadium, and you looked back at the giant screen you could see displaying yet another shot of Ken doing his signature pose to the camera. You turned back to the news article in your hands, and read through the whole thing over and over again. Several lines caught your eyes, and you finally caught on who was behind this.

Photographer Yuichiro handed over the pictures of the two lovebirds having a secret date at the private beach, which was purportedly owned by Ken Sato. From the pictures taken, I’m sure everyone would come to one very obvious conclusion. The question is; do you find the relationship surprising, or are they a perfect match for each other?

You wondered if it was all planned by him; the photo shoot together with Ken. Was he testing to see whether you’d accept a date with him to assume whether you’d have a boyfriend or not?

You wanted to run away. But from what, exactly? Running away wouldn’t solve this problem.

Well, if it turned into a problem.

Cheers erupted again as you returned to the stadium, just in time to see the final score and then celebrating the Giants’ victory. Chanting swimmed through the crowd, and you gripped your phone tightly as you searched for Ken among the players.

You finally spotted him at the bench, and your mind was as equally noisy as the audience around you.

He looked in your direction, trying to search for you but before he could catch your eyes, his shoulder was tapped by a fellow teammate, showing him an article displayed on the screen.

Everything happened fast, you didn’t know that it was possible as your worst fear came to life in front of everyone. The giant screen in the stadium displayed the news article and the pictures of the both of you displayed in a slideshow. You could hear shouts of confusion and gasps among the crowd as all of them were looking at the same thing.

The noise of the crowd died down as Ken made his way to the edge of the field, where an interviewer was waiting to start the session. The topic of the interview was supposed to be about the win at first, but it had clearly turned into a different direction.

The camera focused on Ken, and you knew he was directly looking at you. He looked calm, the practised smile he had on whenever he appeared on screen.

“Ken Sato,” the interviewer started, as he looked into the camera, “The name that is no longer a stranger to every household. His return to Japan brought waves and hope to the Giants. But today,” she turned to him, “it seemed like you’re the focus on the interview for an entirely different topic. Who knew that this eligible bachelor was actually already taken? I have the man here with me, so, what would you like to say?”

The crowd was obediently silent as they waited for his answer. You felt your heart beating loud in your chest as you, too, anticipated what he would say.

For a split second your mind wondered whether he would vehemently deny the news, but you brushed that thought away. You trusted him.

“I do have a question for everyone here, first, though.” Ken swept his vision across the crowd. “Is it a sin for a celebrity, or at least someone who is quite well known by the public, I mean,” he shrugged, “I don’t wanna sound like I’m boasting or that I’m too full of myself thinking that I’m famous.”

There was a ripple of laughter through the whole crowd.

“Is it wrong for me to be in a relationship?”

Silence. A dread coming over you as you quietly anticipated that there might be protests coming from the crowd. No one spoke up until you heard a female shouting from the crowd, “No, it’s not a sin! Well, we would be slightly sad that our favourite bachelor is no longer available, but you’re still human!”

Your eyes travelled to the female shouting, and realised why the voice was so familiar. It was Hina. She saw you looking at her and she grinned, giving a thumbs-up.

“Thank you, random woman from the crowd,” Ken uttered. He turned back to the camera. “I think that answered the question. I’m still human,” he shrugged, his eyebrows lifting up as he announced, “and I fell in love with Y/N. We are happily in a relationship. I’m proud to say that she’s mine.” His eyes finally fall towards your direction. You could only discern his expressions and gestures from the big screen because he was too far from you. “I love you, Y/N.”

There was a momentary moment of silence that you could hear a pin dropping, and you feared that maybe, the public wouldn’t take it so nicely.

But soon, the whole stadium shook with cheers from the crowd. This time around, they were chanting both Ken's and your names.

Okay, so this was not the reaction that you had expected.

You saw Ken gesturing to you, asking to meet you privately after the game. You nodded, pointing to your phone to say that you would communicate through text.

He sent you a message for the meetup point, and you practically ran towards where he had wanted to meet you.

You saw him at the end of the empty hallway, the noise in the stadium a distant sound now that it was only the two of you. You ran into his arms and he caught you, laughing. You let your breath steady first before saying anything.

“Ken Sato… you…” you started. “You have this way of wording things. I never expected the whole crowd to just agree with you.”

“Hey, look at me.” He tilted your chin, and he gazed upon you. “Like I said, we’re still humans.” He kissed your lips. “And I fell in love with you.”

“Hmm…” You hummed, still feeling slightly worried.

Ken opened the article, scrolled down to the comments and showed them to you. “See, they’re all positive comments.” He cleared his throat, doing his best imitation while reading the comments. “Oh my God, they’re a perfect match for each other! I knew they were dating, it would be weird if they didn't date. Honestly, I don’t know how it happened, but I’m happy for them. Y/N, you’d be better off with me-” He stopped reading when he read one comment that irked him. “You know what, I’m going to report that last comment.”

You burst into laughter seeing how he was tapping furiously at the screen, blowing out an air of satisfaction as he finally reported the comment.

“There, problem solved,” he announced.

“You know that probably some time in the future that there will probably be people who won’t be satisfied.” You sniffed.

“Well that’s too bad.” He bumped his forehead against yours. “Because you’re already mine.”

#ken sato #kenji sato #ultraman #ultraman rising #ken sato x reader #kenji sato x reader #ken sato x you #kenji sato x you #x reader #ken sato x y/n #kenji sato x y/n #ultraman: rising #wr: mine

2K notes · View notes

endlessthxxghts · 1 year ago

Text

What You Need

no outbreak!neighbor!joel miller x afab!reader || W/C: ≈6.3k

Summary: You come home from a horribly stressful day at University to everything in your family home a complete mess only for you to take care of. Joel helps you and gives you exactly what you need.

Warnings: SUUUPER self indulgent (sorry guys - it makes for a good plot tho, so i’m not all that sorry <3). no use of “y/n”, age gap (22/42), LATINO JOEL MILLER (idc what anyone says, he needs a warning), established relationship, no physical descriptions of reader, pet names (darlin’, sweet girl, pretty girl, princess, etc.), reader “takes care of everyone but who takes care of her” plot, more porn than plot lol, [SMUT 18+ MDNI] daddy kink, sir kink, heavy on the D/s dynamic (reader falls into subspace), cockwarming, unprotected piv (don’t be like these 2 idiots), breeding kink, cum eating, creampie, finger fucking, finger sucking (briefly), choking, hair pulling, brief thoughts about anal, overstimulation/multiple orgasms, hickeys/marking kink, squirting!, toy use, fluffy ending… i think that’s it?? (dear lord pls forgive me, for i have sinned) if i missed anything, lmk pls!

Quick lil author’s note (see bottom for extended a/n): In all honesty, I wanna dedicate this (nasty) little one shot to @javierpena-inatacvest because if it wasn’t for our interactions as of late plus reading your “It’s Never Too Late” fic, I never would’ve said fuck it and just start writing with the intention of potentially showing it to the world. Thank you for inspiring me. You’re amazing & I literally love u so so much. You deserve phenomenal head all the love in the world for everything you do <3.

MAIN MASTERLIST || ONESHOT COLLECTION

It was a long day at university today, as per usual, but something about today completely drained you.

You went to bed past midnight last night because you were busy finishing up a paper, only to get up at 7am the next morning to spend the next 13 hours juggling between classes, assignments, and studying in your “free” time. By the time you were ready to head back home, you were on your very last thread, begging to snap. You also completely spaced on nourishing your body today, the only thing running through it being water and coffee — lots of coffee.

That’s not even the worst part. The worst part is that the minute you entered your family home, the entire house was an absolute mess, your pets weren’t given their food yet, and no dinner was made. And just like every other day since you grew into an acceptable height to reach the kitchen stove, you took care of it. All of it.

You were so grateful to your family for allowing you to stay at home during your undergraduate years. It makes your in-state tuition even cheaper, and you get the comfort of your own bed. You knew not many people could rely on their parents and family like this, so you don’t want to sound selfish when you think about how you really wish you had your own place right about now.

It’s been an hour and a half since you've been home, and you’re barely finishing up getting the food for your dogs when your phone dings in your back pocket.

Didn’t text me when you got home, baby. Everything okay?

It was from Joel. The neighbor directly across from you, and a quickly growing family friend of yours. Your heart both saddens at the fact that you forgot your unspoken ritual, but it swells at the way he can read you.

It all began at a small family party last year. You were 21 at the time, and for some reason you could not take your eyes off of your neighbor — who was 20 years your senior. It was always just shared glances or you bringing baked goods from your stress-baking endeavors, but at that party, there was a good period of time where your entire family went outside to the bonfire in the backyard to drink until their hearts gave out, leaving you with the dishes and a trashed house to clean. Joel noticed this, how much they relied on you. Whether it was coming over for a beer with your brothers or your father, or to fix an appliance for your older sister, they always walked all over you — when you did absolutely everything for them. So, he took matters into his own hands and went inside to help you clean up.

You insisted he didn’t need to, but you knew he wouldn’t let up. So, there, you two worked, harmoniously, straightening up your home in half the time it would normally take you by yourself. The second you completed the last task, you reached for the remote and plopped yourself on the couch, half expecting Joel to go back outside with your family. Except, he plopped himself on the couch right next to you with the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen, “What are we watchin’, darlin’?”

“You know you could’ve stayed outside with everyone else, Miller,” you say as you turn your body to him with an eyebrow quirked up. He matches your expression, “Well, where’s the fun in that?”

You break into a breathy little giggle, satisfied with his comeback, and you turn on the TV. With your family completely occupied outside, it was easy for either of you to make a move. And although Joel had been planning to for the last few months before this party, you took matters into your own hands and lifted his arm closest to you, tucked yourself into his side and pulled his arm back around your body. He looked down at you, smirking at your boldness while your eyes remained fixed on the movie before you.

The next few hours of the night were filled with secret caresses and stolen kisses, and you have never felt more loved and appreciated in your life. From then on, you’ve been absolutely smitten with him, and he with you.

Instead of replying, you dial him instead. Not even a third ring goes by before he answers, “Baby.”

“Oh my god, hi, baby, I’m so sorry. I completely spaced. The minute I got home, the house was a mess, the dogs weren’t fed yet, dinner wasn’t even cooked, and I-”

“Mi amor,” he says with a deep breath, implicitly telling you to take one, “it’s okay, baby. I don’t wanna hear sorry from you. I’m sorry everythin’ is a mess, baby. Can I help? Need me to come over?”

Your rapid heart rate immediately starts to slow at how calming, ready and willing he is to give you anything you need. Your family would go absolutely insane if Joel just showed up right now with the sole intention of helping you take care of the home and yourself, but you don’t mention that. “No, baby, I promise I’m okay. I just need to relax. I need-” you pause for a moment to take another breath because you feel your body going panicky again. “I need…honestly, I just need you.”

After the shitty day you’ve had today, having to take control of every single thing, honestly all you really want, and need, right now is for your control to be taken away. You don’t want to think, you don’t want to decide, and you don’t even want to figure out your dinner even though you haven’t eaten all day.

He pauses for a moment, hearing the slight whine at your last statement. And just like that, Joel is at your rescue. “You need me, huh, babygirl?”

“Mhm, please.”

“Cross the street, darlin’, right now,” and he hangs up the phone.

You bolt out of your seat, and sprint straight to the front door, quickly locking it. You think to say something on the Ring camera, letting your family know you’ll be back, but you know they won’t even think twice at your absence. You already cleaned the house and took care of the animals they begged for but don’t care for — why else would they look for you?

Just in case they do check the cameras, however, you immediately veer to the left side of your driveway into the blind spots of your front door.

Within seconds, you’re at his door about to knock, but he’s already opening the door, whispering a soft hi followed by your name, and pulling you into a tight embrace. He pulls you away for a second, assessing your face, assessing your needs. He sees your brows pulled together, eyes glossed over, and a pout beginning to form. You don’t need soft and comforting. You need stern, dominating control. You need nothing but pure bliss, and he’s going to give that to you. But first:

“Safe words. Repeat em’.”

“Red for hard stop, yellow if I’m starting to get uncomfortable, and green to keep going.”

“That’s my girl,” he says and finally pulls you in for that rough, all-consuming kiss you’ve been craving. It’s a battle of teeth and tongue, and obviously he wins. His hands are roughly sliding down to the underside of your asscheeks, tightly pulling you into his hardening bulge. You reach up to wrap your arms around his neck, but pause for a moment because he never gave you permission to. He senses that, and pulls back for just a moment. “Such a good fuckin’ girl for me. Go ‘head, baby, touch me.”

You immediately bring your arms back up to grab ahold of him but too riled up in how he’s making you feel, you don’t notice the huge grumble your empty tummy makes. He pulls both your wrists back from his neck and puts an insufferable amount of space between you two.

He says your name, filled with both concern and slight anger. “When was the last time you ate?”

Silence.

He lets go of your wrist and grabs your chin between his pointer and thumb, forcing you to meet his eyes. “I’m not askin’ again, baby.”

“Y-yesterday night,” you stumble out.

“I’m not givin’ you a heavy meal ‘cause that’ll just upset your stomach, but I am fixin’ you somethin’. Go upstairs, change into the clothes on the bed, come back down and position yourself on the ottoman, like I taught ya last week, hm?”

Too enamored by his roughly smooth voice, all you can muster up is a nod. His eyebrow barely shifts, but that’s all a warning you need. “Yes, sir.”

Padding up into his room, already feeling your insides start to float, you reach the edge of his bed to see a pair of black cheeky boxers, and a thin, fitted black tee. You quickly strip off everything you arrived here in and slip on the garments he gave you. Wasting no time, you head back down in a bee line to the ottoman.

Like I taught ya last week, hm?

His words echo in your mind as you begin to recall last week’s endeavors.

You were straddling his lap for a while now, slowly swallowing each other’s moans and making every part of each other’s body ingrained into your memories. Until suddenly he pulls back, eyes dead set with intention. “You trust me, baby?”

“Always, Joel,” you say back with as stern a voice as possible, confused as to why he’d ask such a thing. “Can I teach you somethin’, then, darlin’?”

You pull him into one more kiss before you breathily tell him yes and pull yourself off his lap to stand before him, fully at his disposal.

He stands up, and without any verbal indications, he’s grabbing onto you and molding your body onto the ottoman in a position that begins to drift you off into subspace. You don’t know if it’s the fact that you're sitting on your knees with your legs tucked under you, or if it’s the slow drag of his hands caressing your inner thighs, pulling them farther apart from each other. Or maybe it’s the way he softly places your hands, palms up, atop of your thighs. Whatever the hell it is, you absolutely fucking love it.

He feels you melting into every little touch he makes and he notes every little moment you slip further and further into your space. “Doin’ okay, my sweet girl?” he asks, voice dark and sweet.

All you can pull out of yourself is a pathetic little whine and a head nod.

“This is position number one. Remember it. We’ll learn more later, but this’ll do just fine for a while, baby.”

And with that, he kisses you ever so softly but with such a dominating, addictive energy that you feel yourself try to push up into him, and immediately he pulls away.

“Sweet girl, Imma let it slide this time, but you do not move from this position unless given permission. Ya hear?”

You return to your original position and assure him how good you’ll be, “Won’t happen again, daddy, I promise.”

His jaw clenches at the honorific; that’s your number one tell that signifies you’ve completely submitted and fallen into subspace. He had originally planned on giving you what you asked for two days ago — “Please, Joel, I need you to fuck me, hard.” — but seeing you all docile and ready for him just makes him want to absolutely praise you in the most beautiful ways possible.

So that’s what he did. For hours. An hour of bending you over the ottoman to eat your pussy like a man who had all the time in the world, an hour of fingering orgasm after orgasm out of you while his mouth switched between licking and marking your tits, and a few hours after that just slowly fucking you into his mattress, caressing and loving on every single part of your body he could reach.

Let’s just say, your family didn’t see you for the rest of that day or the next, and you did not care one fucking bit.

You shuffle onto the ottoman, your form now perfected after secretly practicing each night to increase your endurance of staying in such a position for however long Joel needed you to.

You wait for about five more minutes before he comes back with a platter of all of your favorite fruits — strawberries, mangoes, and pineapple — and sits on the cushioned seat right in front of you. He melts at how good you sit for him, immediately disregarding his original plan and wanting you as close to him as possible.

“My good, beautiful girl,” he says softly, in a way that you’re not sure if it was even meant for you to hear, but you still melt nonetheless. “Come,” he says as he pats his lap while setting the plate off to the table beside him.

You shoot up like a lightning bolt, too excited at the thought of being able to feel him again, but before you can climb up, he grabs your hips, stopping you for a second. He slides his fingers into the hem of your underwear and slowly slides them completely off of you, setting them neatly on the ottoman behind you. He slowly reaches for his belt, then slides it off, letting it fall somewhere on the ground. You stand completely still, patiently waiting for whatever he’s going to give you, although your pussy is proving anything but patient.

He undoes the button and zipper of his jeans and signals for you to come up. “Take me out, cariño.”

You climb up on his thighs, not fully straddling him to give yourself some room to tug his jeans and boxers down enough to pull him free. You pull him free with a small moan escaping your lips, wanting to dart your tongue out and lick his angry tip, but he didn’t give his permission for that. So, you begrudgingly let him go, and wait for what comes next.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” he states nonchalantly as if his dick isn’t absolutely begging for you to reach out and grab it. “You’re gonna sit on my cock, keep me nice and warm. Without moving. Only until you’ve eaten all the fruit on this plate will I think about what’s gonna happen next. Got it?”

Your voice trembles, “Y-yes, sir.”

He nods his head, while bringing his hand up to your mouth, signaling for you to let your drool fall. You scoot closer and lift your hips up while he pumps himself a few times to completely cover himself in your spit. With how much your cunt is dripping, you knew his lewd act was for his benefit and his only.

The second his tip catches at your entrance, you can’t control the high-pitch whine that falls from your mouth, and he can’t stop himself from gripping your hips with a bruising force in an attempt to keep from mercilessly pounding up into you right here.

“So f-fucking full,” you breath out as you sink lower and lower, to which he nearly growls with a strained, “So fucking tight.”

You finally bottom out, and you both take a moment to breathe and settle any impulsive thoughts of forgetting the purpose of tonight’s scene. You shift a little to adjust to settle your legs more comfortably at his sides, while he leans over to bring your plate of fruit closer. Both your actions together make you hiss in desperation.

“Color, baby?”

“Green, sir, green,” you promise him.

He smiles, genuine and bright, before his face goes dark and smug again. He picks up a piece of pineapple with his fingers. “Open.”

You lean in and take the sweet fruit from his fingers, making sure to lick any residual of the pineapple’s sweet juices. This goes on until you’ve finished every last piece he cut for you. Towards the last few pieces, your pussy was absolutely drenching his cock with your slick, both your thighs and his soaked. He could feel every pulse and every flutter, and no matter how patient he usually was, something in the air tonight was testing every ounce of his strength.

He sets the plate aside and licks a mix of fruit juices and your spit clean off his fingers. You watch him, completely entranced by the way his tongue wraps around his thick fingers, and you can’t help but feel such an aching need to throw yourself at him.

So you do. And to your surprise, he allows it. You pull both his arms to wrap around your middle and you push yourself into him for a searing kiss, whimpering for him to slip you his tongue. He indulges, and you immediately begin grinding your hips down onto his cock. He growls and wraps his arms tighter around you, adding more pressure into your grind, forcing you to break the kiss to regain your breath. “Fuck, baby. Such an impatient little one, aren’t ya?” He rasps out.

Your hips move faster at his words, trying to will yourself to say something, anything, but you can’t. He notices your effort. “It’s okay, I’ve got you, baby, hm?”

And with that — with the notion that he’ll take care of you with anything you need — you completely fall. “Y- yes,” you moan out, “Da- fuck- daddy’s got me.”

Ah, there she is. Daddy’s girl. His back straightens so he’s towering over you more. He grabs your jaw tightly while you continue to pleasure yourself on his dick, forcing you to hold his stare. “Oh, sweet girl, daddy’s always gonna give ya what ya need. Promise, baby. Now be the good little girl I know you are and cum for me.”

You can feel him meet every movement of your hips, coaxing your high out of you faster than you realize. The wet, squelch your pussy makes every time you suck him in is enough to make him release his load, but he won’t. Not until you’ve came more times than ever before, not until you’re left completely fucked dumb.

He snakes his hand down to the front, reaching for your clit, using his thumb to make mind-numbing, calculated circles. Your back arches at the sensation, head thrown back, and he brings his other free hand to the back of your neck to pull you closer into him. He ravishes your neck all over, sucking and biting all your weak spots, your pulse points, only to run his tongue over it in soothing motions, getting even more worked up at the marks that’ll form tomorrow. Then, he rips your shirt right in half, letting it fall to the ground. So much for makin’ you change, he thinks. He brings his mouth lower and lower, sucking one of your nipples in between his teeth, throwing you over the edge.

Your vision goes white, your entire body goes rigid, and your pussy uncontrollably flutters around his dick as he peppers your neck and chest with more kisses while you come back down.

Your body is now soft and pliant, fully ready for whatever more Joel is going to give you. Your head is still high up in the clouds, and it will be for a while, but he always knows how to take care of you. You feel him slowly lift you off his dick and you hear him groan as he looks down.

“God fucking damn, doll, look at you all over me. Such a fuckin’ mess.”

Your face heats up immediately, “I- I’m sorry, daddy, I-”

He grabs your jaw again and pulls you in for a sloppy kiss, all teeth and tongue. He pulls away bringing your bottom lip with him until he lets go, letting it fall back into place, now wet with his spit. “Don’t fuckin’ apologize for that. You made daddy so proud, baby. So much so that you’re gonna do it again for me,” he says as he squeezes your ass cheek.

You squeak out a gasp and a breathy please. He stands up and makes his way to his bedroom with you still wrapped around him like a koala.

Immediately he throws you on the bed, and before you’re able to scramble up towards the pillows, he’s already pushing you up by the thighs and kneeling between your spread legs.

He releases one thigh for a quick second and holds his hand out, “Pillow, baby.” It takes your blissed mind one moment to register, but as soon as it does, you don’t waste a second, grabbing the pillow next to your head and eagerly handing it to him. He takes the pillow and taps your thigh twice, signaling for you to lift up. He secures the pillow under your hips then brings both his large hands back to the underside of your thighs, pushing your legs up so you’re nearly folded in half, giving him complete access to your dripping heat.

If there’s one thing about Joel Miller, it’s that he loves to make a fucking mess. You thought your first sensation would be one flat lick up your cunt, but instead you feel warmth. Wet and warm and everywhere, and finally you realize, he let his mouth fill with spit only to absolutely drench you with it. Once he’s satisfied with his mess only then does he dive into you like a man starved. Licking and pushing into your slit while the tip of his nose rubs against your clit has you climaxing in an instant, your back arching and your hips lifting as much as they can with the weight of his hands on your thighs keeping you in place.

He lets one hand slowly slide off your thigh and up your belly until he reaches one of your tits, switching between grabbing your entire breast and pinching your nipple. He continues to lick at you and circle your clit with his tongue until you’re a complete whining mess from the overstimulation. “Daddy, please,” you moan.

He lifts his head, eyes as black as ever, “I’ve got you, princess, you can take it.” He reluctantly breaks away from your cunt and kisses his way up your body, taking his time with sloppy, open mouthed kisses near your hip bone and your sternum, knowing those areas drive you crazy the most. He makes sure to bite a little extra hard in some areas on his journey up, knowing you love to admire all the marks and bruises he makes on you.

He sucks another bruise right underneath your jaw, making you push up into him more, while his hands continue to wander and grasp every part of your body that he can. Finally he reaches your mouth and gives you a sweet, long kiss to your mouth, distracting you enough that you don’t see him reach for the vibrator in the nightstand beside the bed. You feel him slide his hand back down your body, but you still don’t realize the vibrator’s presence until you feel the buzz directly on your clit.

Out of pure reaction, your hand flies to the nape of his neck and tugs sharply, all while obscenities fall pathetically from your mouth, “Oh- f-fuck, daddy, yes! J-just like that, please, please don’t stop…” The quick-paced, blinding pleasure builds so fast it cuts off your dirty mouth and reduces you down to moans and gasps and whines of daddy, daddy, daddy.

He slips two fingers into your pussy, sliding in with so much ease with how wet you are from a combination of your cream and his spit, all while he uses his other hand to push the vibrator into your bundle of nerves.

You don’t know whether it has been one minute or one hour of this, but all you know is that you’ve got sweat lining your forehead, beading down your body, and you absolutely can’t take the buzzing pleasure with the constant come-here motion with his fingers anymore, you have to let go. Although this time, it feels different than the rest of the times Joel has made you cum. This time… this time it feels like- you have to pee?

Immediately you start to panic and try to break away from his hold, unable to allow yourself to fucking pee all over him. “Daddy, wait! Please stop.. it- it feels different, like I.. I think I’m gonna pee..” you gasp, trying to articulate your thoughts while he continues his torture on your cunt.

His eyes go wide and it immediately registers for him, “Fuck, baby, don’t worry about that, just let go. Come on, daddy’s got you. You trust me?”

You hesitate for a moment, but still, you know the answer, “Y-yes, daddy.”

“Good, my princess. Cum for me, fuckin’ soak me. I told you I wanted another fuckin’ mess,” he demands and fucks you even harder with his fingers and increases the pressure of the vibrator.

You all but scream, definitely sure the neighbors can hear you, but you don’t give a fuck with the fireworks erupting behind your eyes and all throughout your body. Your body is still convulsing and you’re sure you’ve gone unconscious for a moment, but what brings you back to the Earth is the feeling of a warm, flat tongue licking you all over, cleaning you up. Then another sensation hits you: your bottom half is completely fucking drenched. You muster up all the strength you can to open your eyes and look down to see what’s going on.

You see your big, broad man licking you up so sweetly, but from his mouth down he is also absolutely soaked, down to the collar of his dark green shirt he was wearing.

Holy fuck. You fucking squirted. That was new. And with Joel’s reaction to it, you’re definitely sure that’s not gonna be the last time he pulls that out of you.

He doesn’t realize you’re up again until you’re softly calling his attention back up to you and not your pussy. He makes eye contact with you, and his eyes fucking sparkle. Yeah, there’s no way this was a one time kind of thing. He sits back up on his haunches and strips himself of his shirt. He never pulled his jeans back up from when you used him to get off in the living room, so his dick has been patiently waiting for attention since your last two orgasms.

He strips himself completely at the bottom half, too, leaving you with a perfect view of his toned chest, softer middle, and bulging arms and shoulders. Your cunt, all used and abused, fucking clenches on nothing at the naked sight of him. Of course, he fucking notices.

“Oh, my poor baby. She’s just fuckin’ beggin’ to be filled, huh?” His southern drawl always intensifies whenever he gets spurred on like this. And, fuck, if it doesn’t make you fold more than you already do.

You whine at his words and spread your legs even wider for him to see what’s rightfully his.

“Just beggin’ to get pumped full of my fuckin’ cum, huh, princess? Is that what she wants? That what my babygirl wants?”

“Please, daddy! Yes, that’s what I- what I need, daddy… need you ins- fuck- need you inside, daddy,” you ramble out, already fucked stupid but still begging for more. He situates himself on top of you, stopping your begging with a harsh kiss that leaves your already swollen lips throbbing. “Shhh, I’m gonna give you what you need, darlin’,” and he kisses you one more time as he begins to notch his tip at your entrance.

He hooks his arm underneath your knee, hiking your one leg up higher to open you completely. You feel him start to push in deeper, and neither of you can help the initial gasp of how good it feels to be consumed by one another. He leans down again to kiss you, unable to get enough of your lips on his, and you bring your hand back up to the back of his head, keeping him close to you, feeling the exact same way.

He completely bottoms out into you then, his breathing labored and you, a whimpering mess. No matter how many times you two have fucked, his sheer size always makes you feel like it’s the first time. He stays still to let you get used to the feeling again. You both lay there for a few minutes, kissing and consuming each other’s breaths and moans while he gives you rhythmic little grinds to stimulate your clit. Your pussy is sobbing at this point, enough wetness has accumulated that he’s able to slide right out until just the tip is in you and he pushes right back in, hard.

He fucks you hard, maintaining this rhythm for a while, completely consumed by the way you wrap around him so perfectly. What started off as one leg hiked up around him turned into a complete mating press, giving you the maximum sensation of his length and girth pumping in and out of you. He always gets so foul-mouthed whenever you two end up in this position, not that you’d ever complain because you love hearing that rough, sexy Southern drawl utter absolute filth that only your ears will ever get to hear.

“Fuck, darlin’, it’s like she was fuckin’ made for me. Wrapped around my cock, so fucking tight and warm. I could spend fuckin’ forever here wrapped up in your tight fuckin’ cunt,” he groans.

“All for you, daddy, always,” you respond, purposefully squeezing your pussy tight in time with your words. That drives him absolutely fucking crazy that he pulls his arm upwards in between your legs that are resting on his torso and brings his hand up to wrap around your throat. “Say it again,” he growls, “tell me who the fuck this pussy belongs to, baby.” He squeezes the sides of your neck tighter, creating an even lighter sensation in your head coupled with the submissive daze you’ve been in since you got here.

“F-fuck, d-daddy- shit,” you can’t focus on anything but the way he feels wrapped around your neck while balls deep inside of you.

“Darlin’ girl,” he warns, “don’t make me repeat myself.”

You sob out, willing your body to respond to him, willing your body to obey, “Th- this pussy belongs t- to-“ you take a breath, “to you, daddy, only you. Forever.”

He releases your throat and pulls your legs down from the mating press, wrapping them around his waist instead. He places one hand at the back of your head and the other on the headboard, then kisses you furiously before breaking away, “God damn f-fuckin’ right, princess. All fuckin’ mine to do whatever I fuckin’ want.” And with that, he’s slamming into you, his hand on the headboard in a (wasted) attempt to save the wall from the constant banging.

“Touch that pretty little clit, princess,” he breathes out, chasing his own release now with the sole intention of marking you with his seed. One hand still on his neck, the other snakes down to rub your clit in fast, messy circles, your body begging to cum for a fourth time tonight. “Daddy,” you whine out again, the honorific clearly being your only vocabulary for tonight.

“I know, honey, I know,” he coos, “Cum for me, mama, and I’ll fill you up right fuckin’ now,” he sucks on your bottom lip, “You want that, baby? To be pumped full of me?” He knows your answer, yet he still asks anyway knowing how much his words affect you.

“Please, God, yes, fill me up… I need your cum so fucking badly, I need to feel you, please,” you beg, only spurring him on more.

With both of your mouths spilling such dirty words, his lips anywhere they can reach with the combination of you playing with your clit and him pounding into you, your body enters the astral plane yet again for the fourth time tonight. Though, this time, you force your body to come back down, so you can feel his warmth spill into you.

It only takes but a few more thrusts after you climax for him to follow suit, roaring out as hot, thick ropes of cum spill into you, overflowing and dripping out of your sore cunt. He slowly pulls out, labored breathing, sits back up and just watches. Watches as your pussy clenches to keep him locked inside of you, watches as his load drips down your folds over your tight, little asshole. Another day, he thinks to himself with a smirk.

He doesn’t even realize what he’s doing until his fingers are engrossed in the thick combination of your releases. You moan out at the sensitivity of your pussy, but Joel doesn’t care. He slips his middle and ring finger in, feeling just how much he filled you up. And before you know it, he’s pumping in and out of you yet again, his eyes completely focused on your glistening sex, hitting that spongy spot inside of you that has you fluttering for another fucking release.

“Ahh,” you hiss, not knowing whether you want him to stop or keep going. He uses his other hand to rub on your clit. Fuck. Yeah, okay, you want him to keep going. “Shit, daddy, I’m gonna cum again,” you say as you scramble to get ahold of the bedsheets.

Joel’s gaze breaks away from your cunt to look at you, he smirks like the devil, “Oh, yeah, honey? Gonna give me another one? Come on, baby, I know you have it in you,” he slips a third finger inside. You whine at the stretch. “One more mess, baby, and then I’ll take care of you, I gotcha,” he says for comfort.

You’re nearing the point where you guys usually begin to transition into aftercare, and he knows. He always knows. But he also knows that today you need a little extra push, so he gives it to you.

The thrusts of his fingers don’t come to a stop, but they exponentially slow. “Give me a color, mi amor,” he softly encourages. Even with your erratic breathing, you’re able to force out, “Oh my god, daddy, green, green, green, please go faster, just like before, please-”

He quickly leans forward and stops your blabbering with a chaste kiss and chuckles when he pulls back, “My god, I love you so much, princess.” Then his fingers pick back up to the speed you were so desperately loving before, his and your cum leaking out all over the inside of your thighs.

“Fuck, daddy, I love you so fucking much, fuck, thank you, thank you,” you cry out. A few more pumps and a few more circles to your clit and you’re cumming for the fifth (and final) time tonight. Joel groans at the way you finish on his fingers, and it’s his mouth that blabbers out this time.

“Shit, baby, yes, soak my fuckin’ fingers, let me feel you, fuck-” He’s so enthralled at the sight before him, he doesn’t hear you pleading for him to stop pushing in and out until the honorific fades, “Baby, baby, baby,” you frantically breathe.

He makes eye contact with you again and realizes how caught up he was in you. “Oh, darlin’, shit, I’m sorry, mi amor. What’s your color, baby? Fuck, I’m sorry-”

It’s you this time who forces your entire wobbly body to push up and meet him in a bruising kiss. “Stop, daddy,” you say with a lilt in your tone, signaling to Joel that you’re back from subspace. You smirk, “My color is green, cowboy, but I really need you to run me a warm bath now because I can’t move a single muscle with how you had me, baby,” and pull him in once more for another kiss.

His smugness returns and he pushes you back down on his bed, peppering your face and neck with kisses, forcing sweet out-of-breath giggles from you. “That, I can do, baby. May I join you?”

Your face completely softens, your stresses and worries from the last 24 hours completely nonexistent. “I’d be mad if you didn’t, Miller.”

The next hour and a half — or until the bath water becomes tepid — is spent with him cherishing your body, washing you with your lavender, oat milk body wash you love so much, ultimately just helping you softly come down from your oxytocin high.

You’ve never felt more loved, appreciated, or taken care of in your life. He always makes sure your come down is smooth and unnoticeable as you fall from a blissed state of mind to one of pure love and adoration. As long as you have him in your life, you truly believe you have all of what you need.

As he’s drying your body up and slipping you into one of his t-shirts, your stomach growls… loudly.

“Darlin’...”

You pull away from his grasp, jokingly rolling your eyes while smirking, “Yeah, yeah, Miller. Come on. Gotta fill me up again, don’tcha, cowboy?”

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes out followed by your name, “Tryna put me in an early fuckin’ grave or what?”

Author’s note - extended: Hi guys! I birthed this little one shot on a Friday night while sippin’ on a glass of whiskey and stressing about the stressful entire week I just had. This isn’t my first time writing, in general, but this is my first time writing with the intention of truly producing a story out of it.. this is also my first story I’m posting, so I’m very nervous. Even if just one other person reads this and enjoys it, that’s all that matters to me <3 I also wanna give a quick thank you to my bestie, who’s an AVID smut reader, for proofreading this. She said, and I quote, “gotta change my panties” and “she’s growling” after reading this LMAOO. So, thank you for that, bestie. I love you with my whole heart.

As with any fic, reblog and comments are very much appreciated!! All feedback is appreciated, too!!! Please do let me know how you liked this, and if there's anything specific I could work to improve, I'd love to know! I hope I did okay for my first actual attempt at smut.

Much love to everyone! <3

EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!

2K notes · View notes

satoruxx · 1 year ago

Text

NORTHERN LIGHTS.

✧ PAIRING: kaeya alberich x fem!reader | 4.5k words

✧ SUMMARY: smut, p -> v, praise, fingering, lots of pining, angst, angsty bc it’s kaeya tbh lol, kaeya lore but it’s vague, also military themes bc sometimes we forget kaeya is a captain and i love the knights of favonius, he’s highkey got commitment issues but i think he’s valid, man is whipped tho, he's just an overthinker and traumatized, also can you tell i’m a med student?

✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: first i have to apologize bc this is SO late??? i got this request back for my 200 event, asking for kaeya with the song northern lights by kennie (which is such a good song). at first i was gonna make it a short little drabble, but the more i wrote, the more i wanted to make it a full fic, which is what ended up happening. kaeya's character has so much depth and i wanted to explore it hehe. northern lights is such a fitting song for him so i just had to go all in. but i'm so sorry that i got to your request so late, hopefully you still enjoy it lovely! (even tho it’s not the main focus in this fic, this is technically my first real smut fic so take it with a grain of salt; i don't think i write it that well LMAO)

it was rare to truly know your own weaknesses, but kaeya knew his a little too well. behind his carefree, unbothered exterior he cared a little too much. he cares a little too much when klee tugs on his fur cape and whines about a scolding she’s gotten from jean, and he ends up indulging her with whatever she’d like. he cares a little too much when rosaria spills just a tad more than usual during her drunken ramblings. he cares a little too much when he sees the discomfort in the face of certain fiery bartender as they speak, and he consistently lies awake and remembers days when that discomfort between them didn’t exist.

it’s a curse, he thinks, because he always ends up feeling too attached to people he knows he shouldn’t be attached to.

even now, his weakness is acting up as he barks orders to his soldiers. they scramble around him as they enter the city, carrying their wounded brethren to safety up at the cathedral. kaeya knows he shouldn’t blame himself but as their captain he feels like he should’ve seen this coming. new recruits wouldn’t be able to handle the hordes of monsters at daduapa gorge—he miscalculated.

“take them to the sisters at the cathedral. sister barbara and the others should be able to heal them,” kaeya commands, clasping one of the men’s shoulders and helping him up to the church. he’s ignoring the now dull throbbing in his side as blood stains his clothes—his soldiers were most important right now. like he said, he cared a little too much.

the nurses had set up a medical station at the cathedral, and in between all the commotion, kaeya’s finally able to hand over the groaning soldier to a nurse, who immediately gets to work.

he then takes a few steps back to assess the damage, grateful that all of his soldiers are getting the attention they needed. he’d hate himself if there were any losses today.

he doesn’t even realize that he’s now leaning against the wall, panting shallowly as blood continues to pour from his abdomen. oh well, he’d wait his turn—only after his soldiers were taken care of.

kaeya shuts his eyes, letting his body rest for a minute.

“you’re wounded.”

his eyes shoot open to see you standing in front of him. he assumes you’re not one of the nuns because your clothes are entirely different. you’re young, appearing to be around his age as you eye his torso critically.

“it appears so,” he answers.

“did someone take a look at you yet?”

“i’d prefer all my soldiers be taken care of first.”

your eyes flash with recognition. “so you’re captain kaeya?”

“indeed i am.” he lets his eyes roam over your concerned features.

you give him a small smile before continuing with a sigh. “i can safely tell you that all the wounded are being treated. i’m still an apprentice so i’m only here to deal with the non fatal injuries. like yours, captain.” you crouch down in front of him, fingers reaching towards his clothing with a silent question of permission. he lets his hand slacken as he gives you a nod and you attempt to peel back as many layers as you can to asses the damage before you’re motioning him towards a tent.

a few minutes later and kaeya is letting you strip his torso bare until you have a full view of his injury. your fingers brush over the wounded skin gently, and he wonders if you even touched him at all. “it’s long, but not too deep. a few stitches and you should be alright. if you’re okay with it, i’ll get started,” you tell him.

kaeya wants to tell you that he’s no stranger to the pain of injuries, but he finds something oddly refreshing about your comforting attitude, so he just says yes and lets you begin to work.

you thread through the skin with a delicate hand and despite the sting he honestly can’t even focus on it, choosing instead to analyze your features.

he realizes that you’re awfully pretty.

kaeya makes small talk with you as you work, partly to stay awake through the pain and mostly because he can’t stop his curiosity. he finds out your name, your hobbies, your goals. you may not have the most exciting life but kaeya thinks there’s something so alluring about you it makes him a little dizzy. he's not sure what it is, but he thinks about it the whole time you tend to his wound. realization hits when you finally finish, looking up at him with a smile, and kaeya realizes that your eyes hold the stars in them.

it’s hard to explain but when kaeya watches you work, nose scrunching in the dim lighting of the tent, he thinks you remind him of home.

(kaeya has chased the stars for as long as he can remember. he remembers shouting with diluc in the grass behind the winery, the two of them reaching for celestia because the stars up there were so undeniably pretty.

"we're never gonna get them!" diluc would laugh, trying hard to balance kaeya on his little shoulders. "they're too far…"

and kaeya only grins down at him toothily, raising his fists to the sky. "no way! i'll catch them one day!"

and yet his whole childhood went by without being able to capture the stars. as he grew older he started to learn that it was impossible to steal what the sky so selfishly held on to.

but even as an adult, kaeya knows to appreciate the stars when he gets the privilege to see them in the sky.

especially after he finally seems to find them in the dim glow of a medical tent.)

he hates to admit how often his eyes seek you out after that one encounter. sometimes he’ll see you at the cat's tail, giggling with your friends as you slam tcg cards down on the table triumphantly. other times he’ll catch a glimpse of you at good hunter, chewing on a quick meal as you browse through a book. almost every time he gets caught staring you only smile and offer him a little wave that sends his brain into a frenzy.

(maybe in another life kaeya would allow himself the luxury. he’d let himself go through the motions for you. let himself stress every time you threw a glance his way. work up the courage to ask you out on saturday afternoon. finally get the chance to press his lips to yours. trace your skin with nimble fingers and have the privilege to call you his.

in another life maybe.

but for now he’ll just keep you his own little secret—a guilty pleasure he’ll indulge in because it’s hard to rid an addiction, especially if you don’t have the will to rid it in the first place.)

kaeya’s messed up this summer. he knows it in his soul that he’s made the wrong decision as he watches you babble about something as you lean against his bare chest, still basking in your own afterglow.

he knows that he should have resisted the temptation. as soon as he and the troops got back and he saw you sitting in a secluded corner at angel’s share he knew that his feelings for you hadn’t dissolved.

they say absence makes the heart grow fonder and kaeya only now knows this to be true because just the sight of you sends his mind into a frenzy. you could probably feel his gaze on you because you look up from the book you’re reading and make straight eye contact with him. for a second, he wants to turn away but then you smile at kaeya like you’ve never once forgotten him, and he’s putty. before he knows it, he’s buying you a drink and walking over to your little corner to make himself comfortable.

it’s a slow descent for him because in his head he knows he shouldn’t get too attached. he’ll leave again soon with the troops, and who knows maybe he’ll leave them behind one day too. his future has always looked so clouded to him, and he knows you belong in the sun. he’d like to leave you there in the light—avoid dragging you into his darkness.

so he tries to keep it simple, occasionally meeting you for a drink or catching up around the city. but then you’re showing him your favorite place to study near starfell lake and he’s showing you his favorite stars while laying on his back on starsnatch cliff. and he knows he can’t avoid it.

soon enough he’s giving into everything he said he wouldn’t, finally finding out what you taste like. finally knowing how his name sounds when it falls from your lips.

it's more addicting than he could've predicted, the feeling of your breath against his skin as you pant out his name. kaeya can't even bring himself to pull away from you to stop and think for a second. if he did then maybe he could slap some sense into himself and draw some distance because archons above he was digging himself deeper into this hole. but he can't, not when you're gripping his shoulders as he presses you against the wall of his bedroom, whining into his lips for all that he can give you.

and kaeya is nothing if not generous.

so he indulges both you and himself—the perfect mix of selfless and selfish as he guides you to his bed, nimble fingers loosening the ties of your clothing until you're bare in front of him. he can see the bashfulness settling into your cheeks and he almost feels like goading for just a minute, but he decides he'll be nice.

you've always deserved a nice guy anyway.

he tries to push that thought away, instead distracting himself with the heat of your body, his fingers dancing along your skin eagerly. maybe, just this one night, he can let it be about you two. he can afford to forget about all the old promises he's made—all the responsibilities and duties he devoted himself to a lifetime ago.

kaeya ignores the flush of heat crawling up his neck as he hovers over you, caging your body underneath his as you squirm in anticipation. he understands—the tightness in his pants is enough for him to feel the same. but he's not worried about that, not when his fingers part your thighs eagerly, brushing over heated skin and finding slick wetness there as he dips into your cunt. he hears the sharp intake of breath, the quiet restrained moan, and he preens. kaeya revels in the sounds he pulls from your lips as his fingers curl against your slick heat, your head lolling back against his pillows.

there's a possessive streak of something that cuts through him then—something that tells him how he aches to be the only one who gets to hear those sounds.

it makes him slightly sick.

kaeya realizes then—he's been quite stupid when it comes to you. he's kept the maelstrom of feelings brewing in his soul trapped under all his bravado, arrogant and cowardly all at once. he needs to tell you, needs to be honest because this isn't something he can trick his way out of.

but all he wants to do is run. run so far away from you because he doesn't want you to to get caught up in his own ruin. you're far too good for him, too sweet and carefree to be tainted by his sin-laden hands. he needs to run.

but he does none of that, not when he's guiding his fingers to the apex of your thighs and exploring territory he knows he shouldn't claim. because then you look at him with an expression so blissful—so thankful, relieved that he's giving you a part of himself he never wanted to—and he can't even be angry about it.

kaeya presses his lips to the swell of your chest, feeling the rapid thumping of your heart under your skin, and he shuts his eyes as he breathes out your name. you answer with a resounding mewl, catching his eyes even through the dark strands of his hair.

he then chooses to focus on pumping his fingers in and out of your cunt because archons do you look heavenly when your eyes roll back like that.

but it scares him, the way you leave him open and exposed and aching even when he doesn't want to be.

in his head you're perfect, all bright and glowing under him as you chant his name like he's some kind of savior. but kaeya isn't a savior—if anything he's destruction in human form, sent by the heavens to wreak havoc on those around him. he'd destroyed enough already—he doesn't think he can do it to you too.

but archons the way you're looking at him now, from under fluttering lashes and dewy eyes that shine even brighter when they're trained on him—begging, pleading, and oh so trusting of him and every thing he wants to give you. he can't even help himself.

"i know, sweet girl," he sighs, voice strained as you buck your hips just perfect—a temptress, sent to lead him to his doom. and yet he can't stop his fingers from pushing back your hair from your sweaty skin, knowing that he should be careful because he doesn't want to destroy something as fragile as this.

"kaeya please," your breath comes out in short desperate pants, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt and sliding it off his shoulders haphazardly.

"i know," he repeats, reaching down to heft your thigh over his waist as he slots his hips against your own, biting back a groan at the sensitive brush against his cock—throbbing, aching, needy.

"ah fuck," he's almost shy at the way his voice shakes as he lines his cock up, the heat and slickness of your cunt a teasing caress against his sensitive head. he drops his forehead against your shoulder, breathing heavily even before he's inside you because something about this makes him so incredibly nervous. a single desperate whine and the soft squeeze of your fingers into his biceps and he's stilling—breath catching, heart pounding.

for a moment, he doesn't even feel like himself. he's not anything, no one.

and then he slides in and kaeya knows that there will never be anything better—another experience that would feel this right in his life.

he pulls out a little, gaze lingering at the sweat beading at your forehead, and something in his chest stutters. "okay?" he traces your face for any hint of hesitation—of the nervousness that he feels in his gut, but all he finds is a stormy mix of desire and devotion.

"uh huh," reassurance, stability—everything he isn't. his brows pinch, eyes shutting because he doesn't want you to know.

he's pulled out of the whirlwind that is his thoughts when he feels your fingers on his cheek, brushing over his skin gently. his eyes snap open, and even through the haze he can feel himself relaxing under your touch, because the way you're looking at him is so undeniably loving and it makes his stomach flip.

"you okay?" you whisper, looking up at him carefully, and kaeya feels as though you've put him between the halves of a microscope slide to analyze him.

"i'm fine," he breathes out, not a lie but not the whole truth either. "don't worry."

his words do little to quell you, but one roll of his hips has your eyes fluttering, a choked moan escaping your throat, and the sound makes his pride sing.

there's an image then—hazy and yet so obvious as his brain registers it. the implications behind it makes his stomach churn.

quiet smiles, hazy kisses, soft goodbyes—and then the inevitable distance as he crosses over the border separating your world from his. a lone figure standing in the streets of mondstadt, always waiting for him to come back. always disappointed.

you buck your hips upward, blissfully unaware of the torrent of conflicting emotions in his head. kaeya's brain short-circuits, and then he's pushing back, a steady rhythm against your gummy walls that takes the breath out of your lungs. you savor every thrust, punctuated by the sharp grunts he lets out against your throat.

your fingers rake over his back, desperate and needy and focused on one thing only—kaeya, kaeya, kaeya.

"that's it sweetheart," he doesn't have any more control—not on his mind, his body, his mouth. they've all escaped his grasp, too spurred on by you and everything you're willing to offer him.

"'s okay…ah fuck…it's okay," kaeya groans into the column of your throat, not sure whether he's telling you or himself. the clench of your walls sends him spiraling, hips picking up the pace as he pistons his cock in and out—trying to find out just how far he can go.

then he hits one spot, and his vigilant gaze catches the way your jaw slackens, eyes glazing over even as they roll back and a shaky moan escapes your throat—surprised, unexpecting. his ego jumps.

an experimental roll of his hips against the same spot and you make a sound so unhinged that he finds himself already addicted to it. and to tease is in his nature.

"yeah? right there?" he drawls, masking his anxiousness with his bravado once again.

"right there," you whimper, nodding meekly as you grip his shoulders. he huffs out a soft laugh, pressing a gentle kiss to your eyelids like he's trying to kiss away the tears that have gathered there. you preen under his ministrations—it feels a little too domestic.

he understands. it scares him, but he understands. he wonders what the point of worrying is—wonders why he's letting his paranoid brain taint this moment that he'd been waiting for. the only solution left is to ignore it. because you're here, writhing underneath him in the throes of pleasure, vulnerable and trusting and just for him. he should give you what you deserve after all.

so kaeya pushes every other thought out of his head, only focused on you and making you feel good because that's what someone like you deserves—everything you desire laid at your feet.

he presses a chaste kiss to your mouth, paired with a languid roll of his hips as he quietly groans. "okay…." his voice comes out an octave lower, pushed down by the barely concealed need for you. "okay sweet girl. i've got you."

another searing kiss as he breathes through his nose, picking up the pace again as he slams his cock into the spot that makes you see stars. your moans get louder even as they remain muffled against his lips, and kaeya can't help but dig his fingers into the meat of your thigh, leaving behind finger shaped dents in the plushy skin.

a claim—possessive, desperate, selfish.

your kisses become sloppier as kaeya leads you closer to the edge, walls clenching around the length of him, tighter with every thrust he delivers. the chants of his name have become almost reverent, and kaeya thinks his name couldn't possibly sound more beautiful than in that moment. he wonders if he could be blessed to hear it for the remainder of his life, and the thought sends pure unadulterated need through him.

his hips stutter, red hot fire coursing through his chilled veins—building, climbing, overwhelming as every sense goes fuzzy with heat. his grunts become more irregular, in time with the reckless thrusts of his cock as your cunt tightens around him greedily.

his cock twitches as you suck him in eagerly, feeling every ridge and vein as he grunts and groans and tightens his hold on you—unyielding, unrelenting, selfish.

your eyes stay locked on his even as your orgasm rips through you, and kaeya sees celestia in them—brighter than ever before. your muscles spasm, clenching almost painfully as you tremble and writhe underneath him, and he follows you to the doorstep of nirvana with a throaty groan. his hips stutter, twitching and throbbing as he pants out a broken chorus of your name and every praise that doesn't do you justice.

then he drops his forehead against yours, watching your eyelids flutter—celestial stars dim. a soft brush of your lips against his.

your muscles go lax, every guard dropped just for him—trust he realizes, trust he doesn't deserve. he doesn't know how to tell you that.

because even after everything—when you're curled up against his chest, skin warm and dewy against his own, he does not think about how he adores the feeling of your hair brushing against his arm, nor does he focus on the soft tickle of your breathing washing over him. instead he thinks about how he's ruined it all, how he's dragged you into him, and how he needs to let you go before he destroys you completely.

at the end of the summer, kaeya tells you he can’t.

“what are you talking about?” you ask him, a light chuckle escaping your lips as you barely focus on his words. your nose is buried in some medical text, and kaeya thinks that the universe is punishing him now by making him repeat himself.

“us. we shouldn’t have…” he sighs, shoulders dropping. “i mean, we should stop…seeing each other.”

he can practically feel the way his words pull your attention and when he looks up he sees the way your grip on the book has slackened. there’s panic settling in your eyes, mixed with a bit of confusion. a conflicted emotion runs across your face and kaeya’s fingers itch to touch you. “w-why?”

it’s a simple question and he should have no problem answering it, but he struggles to get the words out, his throat constricting uncomfortably. “it was fine in the summer, when i was back here with the troops. but now i’ll have to leave and-“

“so what?” you question, turning in your seat to face him completely. his eyes drop to the shirt you’re wearing, his shirt, and he feels his heart squeezing.

“so-“ he gulps, head spinning as he tries to explain himself. he doesn’t even have a proper answer—he just knows that this is his only option. because there’s no way in hell he deserves this kind of comfort, this kind of happiness. “so i cant-“

“can’t what, kaeya?” you stress, voice going slightly higher and he only then sees the real fear in your expression.

he pauses, mulling over his words and the bitter taste they’re leaving in his mouth. he can feel the sting of your pleading stare, and he swallows hard. “can’t stay,” he finally answers, and he’s shocked at how miserable he sounds.

you look at him like he’s insane, and honestly he feels like he might be. you’re confused and rightfully so, because there are so many remnants of him left in your space, so clearly evident the impact he’s left on you.

“can’t or won’t?”

kaeya’s eyes snap up to yours, because the tremor in your voice sends a jolt of fear down to his stomach, churning and roiling until it makes him sick.

he regrets looking, because he can feel himself breaking then and there.

you’re looking at him with these shining eyes and he swears that he’s glimpses them again—the brightest stars he’s ever had the privilege of seeing. for a second he thinks the light of those stars might disappear because that’s what always happens. but they remain, glowing against the backdrop of your irises and he’s captivated all over again.

his plans to leave you in tears fly out the window then and there.

he’s reaching for your cheeks in less than a second, holding them delicately as he lets his thumbs brush over your teary lashes. there’s a reasonable bit of confusion in your face at his sudden change, but when he leans down to kiss you, you don’t protest, melting into him even though he’s so undeniably cold. kaeya doesn’t even realize he’s saying he loves you, choosing to murmur it against your lips because it’s not meant for anyone else to hear—just the two of you.

he remains there, in the quiet darkness of your room for the rest of the night, because he doesn’t want to leave your side even after he told himself he would.

and yes, he dreads tomorrow. he dreads tomorrow because he knows that he will have to choose between the comfortable home he’s found in you or the dark abyss that has swallowed his past.

he’s scared that the more he allows himself to fall into you, and the more he finds that your eyes are the ones that hold the stars of celestia, then the easier his choice will become.

he’s been chasing the stars for so long after all. now that he finally has them, why in teyvat would he let them go?

276 notes · View notes

whatsthemadder · 14 days ago

Text

You too

Bakugo Katsuki x reader

Word count: 4.8k

Hi! This is my first ever fanfic (welcome to me making my own history and thank you for being here :’)) it’s very rough, very self indulgent, very much a blur of incoherent thoughts all struggling to make a complete story. Umm what to tell you about it, you and bestie Bakugo confessing your feelings, reader described is female and she/her pronouns mentioned, lots of cussing cause duh boom boom boy, mentions of w33d and alcohol, slightly suggestive at times, lots of cringey, cheesy, fluff. Please let me know if I’m missing or should add something! (Seriously guys pls send help🥲🙏) anywho enjoy! AND ITS COLLEGE AU! SORRY

The music was loud and blaring through the various speakers in the house, sending vibrations through your body. You were right on the dance floor, maybe five or six shots in (fuck if you could remember). Somewhere after number three is when you stopped counting. You originally didn’t plan on drinking so much, but that’s to be expected when you’re best friends with Mina. She always knew how to push your buttons and get you to loosen up a bit. Not that you needed much help, in fact, you kind of loved the little games and shenanigans you and her both pulled together and tonight is no different.

Your school beat their rival team today and the boys decided to throw a party to celebrate. That’s how you ended up at your friends’ house, home to Denki, Sero, Kirishima, Midoriya, Todoroki and your childhood best friend, Katsuki Bakugou. His parents are the main reason they live such a nice house, wanting to give him the best and set him up for success as much as they can. It was so cute and heartwarming to see how they supported him, and deep down he appreciated it even if he would tell you to “stop saying corny shit” if you brought it up.

You hadn’t seen the explosive blonde yet, but the night was still young. He was probably in the basement playing some drinking game with his teammates or making out with some new girl for the night. The idea turned your stomach. You’ve had feelings for your best friend for what feels like forever. You don’t quite know for sure when you realized you were in love with him and for the longest time you rejected those feelings (shocker) for fear that he didn’t feel the same way. You love the relationship you have and don’t want to do anything to jeopardize it, so you’ve been keeping your feelings to yourself deciding having him at all is better than nothing.

A pretty pink hand, holding yet another glass out for you brings you out of your daze. “Stop thinking so much for once and have fun girl,” she pouts at you. With a roll of your eyes you take the glass and giggle, protesting, “I am having fun. are you trying to make me black out?” She grins mischievously only saying “tits up” before downing her drunk. You quickly follow suit. She grips your shoulders and shakes you slightly, making you extra dizzy. “Y/n you’re my best friend and I want- no NEED- you to have the best time of your life. Unless you’re gonna find some balls and jump that man’s bones, I hereby order you to,” she unceremoniously burps in your face making you cringe, “get out there, shake some fucking ass and have the best. Fucking. Night. Ever! Make your future grandchildren proud!” She threw her head back to tell the last part. How she was able to get through all that is beyond you but Mina has always had a strong tolerance to alcohol, unlike you. While you felt your heart twist a little at the mention of Katsuki you decided she was right. It’s time to shake some fucking ass.

Katsuki was downstairs in the basement as predicted playing a game of cup pong with his friends. Currently him and Kirishima were getting their asses handed to them by the biggest dipshits known the man: denki and sero.

“Drink up, bakubro. Man who would’ve thought our quarterback would be so shit at beer pong?” He laughs and Bakugou wants nothing more than to slap that stupid fucking smirk off his face. He does as he’s told though after giving a tch and flipping the yellow haired boy off. “I’m not shit, dumbass, just thought I’d take it easy on you two jackoffs.” No one is convinced

“I didn’t realize you knew how to take it easy,” the black haired man on the other side of the table teased, taking a lazy hit off his blunt. He passes it to Denki.

“Yeah, I think that’s a lame excuse to cover up the fact that you keep getting distracted looking for a certain someone,” denki wiggles his eyebrows knowingly and Bakugou is seriously considering punching his face in.

“Fuck off, dunceface before I punch your shitty face in.” He gruffed. He felt his cheeks start to heat up at the mention of you. Truthfully, whether he’d want to admit it or not, he did want to see you. Was excited for a chance to glimpse at you again. Sure you both see each other and hang out all the time outside of parties but he can’t stop himself from getting giddy thinking about being with you again. How your hair always smells so sweet. How your skin always looked so soft and smooth. Your laugh that makes him feel warm and dopey inside. Or the way your eyes will focus wholly on him like nothing else matters. He didn’t know when it happened but one day he just started being softer with you. Not yelling as much when you were close, sharing his food with you when you forgot (after getting scolded and lectured for forgetting your food like a dumbass of course), complaining about doing something half heartedly when you both knew he’d comply with what you say regardless. Fuck he was whipped, huh? Not that he was complaining. Dammit he wished he grew some balls already and ask you out. He’s too scared omg Bakugou scared?? to admit his feelings for fear that you wouldn’t feel the same and reject him. He’d rather accept his unrequited love and keep his friendship with you than go fuck it up by sharing his feelings and shit. The only problem is he doesn’t want you being with anyone else. The thought of someone else holding you, making you laugh, touching you, looking at someone else in that dreamy way that’s only for him, pisses him the fuck off.

Bakugou is immediately brought back to reality by a cloud of smoke blowing in his face. He coughs a little, startled, before glaring at the idiot next to him who’s smugly watching him. “Whatcha thinking about kacchan? Could it be another wet fantasy about a certain someone getting you all worked up?” Prick. It was then that bakugou realized he had crushed his solo cup in a death grip.

“Tch. Shut the fuck up asshole before I kick your ass.” Bakugou snarled. “Fuck. I need to clean this” he mumbled to himself. “Oi! Icyhot! Get your ass over here!” The two hair colored boy in question looks up from his spot on the wall with a blank stare where he’s talking to a pretty little brunette. Then flips Katsuki off. The fuck?? That fucking bastard. He made a mental note to kick his ass too after dunceface. Midoriya comes up shortly and claps his hand on his back, “just go bro, I’ll take over.”

“Thank god!” Kirishima yells. “Finally someone manly. Was tired of paying the price for your shit playing.” Kiri let out a sharp toothed grin. God he hated his insufferable teammates sometimes. Assholes.

“You’re all gonna fucking get your sorry asses kicked later!” The angry Pom shouted before storming for the stairs. He faintly heard one of them say “ooh we’re so scared” followed by snickers as he walked away.

Getting to the stairs proved to be a bit more challenging than he expected, but honestly because of his towering 6’3 body, beefy frame, and scary repetition, the crowd parted easily for him, but not without some random extras trying to talk with him or grubby hands that definitely didn’t belong to you attempting and failing to grab hold of him. There were people all up and down the stairs but that didn’t stop him from bulldozing through. Once he reaches the top he beelines for the kitchen to wash his beer soaked hands. He’s on his way to his room to change his shirt when he emerges into the living room and sees you. His eyes widen slightly and gloss over a bit. Holy shit.

You wore a red and black football jersey that you modified to cinch your waist better and had a neckline that accentuated your chest more. Your low waisted pants hugged your ass just right and exposed the cute little belly ring you have, twin to Mina’s. It was an impulsive decision you both made one random Tuesday night that you don’t regret. He didn’t need to see the back of your jersey to know that it was his name there. Fuck he loved when you showed off his number. It made him feel like you were his.

All of a sudden he’s drunk at the sight of you. The way your hips are swaying and your body is moving. You look so angelic but somehow sinful too. He wanted nothing more than to hold your body against his, feel you grind and dance on him and show everyone that no one else is allowed to have you. He’s currently in the middle of an internal debate deciding whether or not to act on his impulses when some fucking extra comes and puts his hands on you. You don’t realize that you’ve been moved away from Mina and are now in the arms of Neito fucking Monoma, happily and carelessly dancing to the rhythm. The fuck was that dipshit doing here? He plays for the rival team they beat today. He should be somewhere fucking crying like a child and throwing a tantrum, not here in HIS home putting his filthy hands on HIS your pristine body.

It takes bakugou all of two seconds to get his feet moving. Another three and he’s standing right in front of you gently, yet firmly, pulling you out of Monomas grasp and letting you fall into his chest.

It doesn’t take you long to realize whose body you just crashed into, that familiar warmth and Smokey, caramelized scent wrapping a comforting blanket around your drunkened senses. Immediately you melt into his body. You look up, surprise lighting your eyes, and find him with the meanest, nastiest look on his face you’ve ever seen, but it’s not directed at you. Thank god. He looks really pissed as fuck. Damn. Has he always been this hot when he’s angry? I wonder if he’d ever try taking that anger out on m-

Piercing crimson eyes were staring down at you, stopping your perverted thoughts in their tracks. When did he start looking at you? Maybe you’re more fucked up than you thought, but his eyes looked softer as they gazed at you. Your cheeks started heating up under his undivided attention. You couldn’t help the dopey, stupid smile that began to split your face in two. “Katsuki!” You squealed. Youre arms circle his waist, holding him tight, while you lay your head on his surprisingly soft chest, nuzzling into him. His arms immediately came up to wrap around your shoulders, pressing you unbelievably closer to him. God you were so happy. So unapologetically happy. Maybe you’ll say fuck it and tell him you want a relationship more than just friends. At least you’ll know you tried. For now you were content.

Bakugou couldn’t help the blush that erupted on his face. His cheeks rivaling the color of his red headed friend’s hair. He had never heard a sound so sweet than the way you just said his name like he was responsible for making the sun rise everyday. He knew right then that he’d be spending the rest of his life chasing after that sound again and he has a good idea about to make it happen. He almost forgot why he was so fucking mad in the first place when you started clinging onto him like you’d melt away if you were any further apart. He just wants to hold you like this forever.

A grating noise breaks him from his bubble and he looks up, remembering exactly why he was so upset. Monoma stands there with cocky smirk on his face, his eyes scanning your body. Oh hell no.

“The fuck are you doing here asshole. First beating wasn’t enough?” A smirk danced on his face, but his voice was anything but amused. The growl and vibrations that rumbled through his chest startled you, causing you to regrettably pull away from him. You looked over your shoulder to see Neito Monoma standing right behind you looking at you in a way that made you uncomfortable. Is that who you were dancing with just now? Now that you’re thinking cap is starting to come back on, you wonder where Mina went. One minute you were dancing together, giggling like school girls and the next you were sandwiched between two really huge guys. If you weren’t so tipsy and slightly crossed, you’d probably be more concerned as to how you ended up in this situation in the first place, but how could you when the way Katsuki’s biceps moved under his sinful tight shirt was all you could focus on. You don’t even realize that you’re now looking at his back until you see hands start to grab for him. You sober up long enough to realize that the hands belong to a couple of his teammates- sero and Kirishima- holding him back. You notice his breathing turned ragged and his fists are clenched at his side. Monoma is standing a couple of feet back, cradling his jaw that’s starting to sport an ugly shade of purple. He spits out some blood mixed saliva and looks like he’s about to murder the angry headed Pom. After a brief glance at the quick assembling team of giants, he decides against starting anymore shit and just scoffs. “You’ll be fucking sorry you ever touched me asshole.”

“Get the fuck out of my house. Stay away from me and stay the fuck away from her. If I catch you even breathing the same air as her I’ll make sure that’s the last fucking breath you take, you got that shithead?” Unlike his usually loud, brash demeanor, Katsuki’s voice was deathly quiet when he said that. Even over the music you could hear every word he said. Fuck why is he so hot? you think. You shouldnt be feeling butterflies about promised death, but damn did your knees go weak at the threat. It wasn’t just any threat but one he made on your behalf. If it wasn’t for the slender pink arms holding you up you might’ve collapsed. Wait pink arms? Mina!

Her worried eyes meet yours and she looks you over making sure you’re alright. “Are you okay?” You’d never seen her so concerned before. It doesn’t sit well with you so you flash her the brightest smile you can muster and say “yep! You’re here now why wouldn’t I be?” She gives you a small smile and kisses your head. “I cant believe that bastard had the balls to show up here like that and start dancing with you of all people.” She laughs at the way your eyes bug out of your head. “What?!” Fuck so I did dance with him. You cringe at the thought and she laughs again. Now the situation with Bakugou makes sense. Shit! Where’s Bakugou?

You turn back to where you last saw him and found him staring at you, his breathing more controlled. You can tell he’s still tense. Ready to snap at a moments notice if provoked. You don’t think about what you’re doing as you walk up to him and take his hand, planning on leading him somewhere out of here. You don’t think about all the eyes that watch you two, fearing that you’ll lose your nerve if you pay them any mind. Honestly, with the way he’s looking at you right now it’s not that hard to do. He’s watching you like his life depends on it, ready to jump in head first at the first sign of trouble. You don’t notice monoma’s absence or how everyone else tries to act like nothing happened for fear of upsetting the angry blonde.

He lets you lead him to the stairs to the second floor where the boys rooms are. They each have a lock installed so no unwanted visitors find their way through their safe spaces and belongings. You of course were one of the exceptions for Katsuki’s room. He had given you the passcode to his door as soon as they moved in saying you could use it if you ever needed a place to crash or get away from extras. You’ve definitely taken him up on his offer, much to his delight, especially after finishing those so called dates with those fucking losers. One time this guy tried following you home so you showed up at the boys house who all conveniently happened to be home at the same time and waiting for you outside, making the creep think twice about his actions and ultimately giving up. Thankfully you didn’t see him after that and good thing cause Bakugou would’ve knocked his teeth in if he ever tried. He doesn’t understand why you give those shitheads the time of day anyway. Don’t you know he’s the only one for you and no one else will come fucking close to him? No of course not because he’s been too fucking scared like a wimp to confess how he truly feels for you.

You’re at his door before you know it (it wasn’t hard when everyone avoided you like the plague) entering the code and stepping inside when the light turns green. He silently follows you in and you usher him to his bed, gently pushing him to sit down. You’ve started sobering up a bit more when you saw Mina and are now fully aware that it’s just the two of you in his room. It’s not like this is a new occurrence- not by a long shot- hell you’ve even slept in his bed before on nights when being out with the girls went on longer than you expected. Other than Mina, he was your emergency go-to contact, there for you whenever you needed him even when he’d tell you to figure out your shit on your own you knew there was no weight behind his words. He always showed up for you, however you needed him.

He carefully watches you from his spot on the bed seeing you roam around his room picking out fresh comfy clothes for him to change into and gathering items to help prevent a monster hangover in the morning. Now that his adrenaline was wearing off he started feeling the beginnings of a pounding headache building behind his skull. Fuck. He wishes he could just discard his head until it went away. “Katsuki!” He blinks and realizes you’d been talking to him. He lets out a grunt of acknowledgment to which you roll your eyes. “Do you have any more water bottles in here?” He looked at his empty mini fridge remembering that he’d used his last bottle yesterday, forgetting to restock. He shook his head. “Hold on” you say and you disappear back into the loud house, presumably to go get more. He wanted to tell you not to worry about it and that he’d be fine without it, but words suddenly became too much. Why couldn’t he seem to get his shit together anymore? What the fuck was wrong with him? He didn’t think he drank that much but damn if he didn’t like he lost his grip on reality.

You come back moments later, fresh bottle of water in hand, to find the giant ash blonde man sprawled on his bed. He looks so peaceful and handsome like this you think. His pretty face free from its usual scowl making him look angelic in the soft glow of his rooms lamps. “Katsuki,” you whisper. You lightly nudge his leg. “Katsuki,” you repeat but a little bit louder this time. You go to give him a little jab in his side when giant hands all of a sudden grab you and pull you down. You squeal as you land on top of him. His body hard beneath your soft one, but warm. So so warm. You do your best to at his face but his arms are holding you so tight to him that it’s hard to manage. His face buried in between your neck and shoulder.

“…you.” Is all you hear when he speaks into your skin. “Katsuki I can’t understand you.” You tentatively bring your hand up to card through his hair and he nuzzles into your touch immediately. EHEHEHE internally you’re dying. How the hell is he so cute? “I need you,” he repeats. It’s still slightly muffled but you understand him clear as day this time. You freeze for a moment, hand slowly slipping from his hair. He stops you just before you pull your hand away entirely and holds onto it. His ruby red eyes bore into yours as he retreats from his hiding spot in your shoulder, looking at you intently. He had glossy, drunken eyes earlier and now he’s staring at you with such intensity and clarity in them. It’s enough to make you momentarily forget how to breathe.

“I need you.” He says again but with more confidence. “I’m tired of pretending that being your friend is enough. Tired of acting like it’s not you who I want to spend the rest of eternity with. Tired of watching you go out with fucking extras who aren’t worth your time. Tired of trying and failing to find someone who compares to even an ounce of you. Tired of fucking being the biggest dumbass to ever walk the fucking planet and missing chance after chance to tell you how I feel all because I was a scared little bitch. I’m tired of us dancing around our fucking feelings and-“ Katsuki was cut off by your lips suddenly crashing into his. They were slightly chapped, but so sinfully soft. When’s the last time you heard him ramble like that? Doesn’t matter. All you can think about is his lips on yours and his proclamation of wanting- no needing- you. How long had you been dreaming of this moment?

He gently rolled the both of you so you were under him. One of his hands came to hold your face while the other gripped your exposed waist. Your arms snaked around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer to you. You lightly tug at the hairs on the base of his neck causing him to softly moan. You can’t help but smirk at the sound, already thinking about all the other noises he might make for you. Buuut that’s for another time.

Much to his your dismay, you pull away from him. As much as you wanted to jump his bones and take him for all he was worth (he definitely wasn’t opposed to the idea) you knew this wasn’t the time. You could get to that later. You had eternity after all, right?

You’re both panting, catching your breath, when Katsuki places a chaste kiss to your cheek. You give him a sweet smile that has him falling for you all over again. You motion for him to get off and soon pulls you up with him. He watches you grab the clothes you chose for him earlier- shorts and his signature black skull shirt- and lets you place them in his awaiting hands. “Strip.” Is all you say. A cocky smirk graces his handsome face and you have a sudden urge to smack it off of him. You roll your eyes. “Just change you idiot,” you giggle.

He shakes his head, that smirk still there. “Nah I’m good.” You narrow your eyes and pout at him.

“Why not?” You ask, arms crossed.

“Because I sleep in my underwear dumbass.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Hmm. I guess that’s fair you think.

His voice is teasing. “Here. Strip.” You stare at the clothes presented before you.

“Fine.” Bastard. One minute he’s declaring his feelings for you, making you weak in the knees, the next you wanna body slam him.

You go to the bathroom and change, suddenly a little nervous about him watching you. When you finally emerge his eyes nearly fall out of his head along with his tongue. The hem falls just below the top of your thighs and you look so fucking cute like a mini version of him. He immediately notices you left the shorts. You look at him and shrug. “You go to bed in your underwear, I go with a shirt but also underwear if that wasn’t clear.”

“Here” you hand him the glass of water and some meds to help lessen the hangover effects. He surprisingly complies and you do the same thing. You brought crackers and a granola bar for you both to eat. Hoping to soak up some of what was in your system.

Sitting criss crossed facing each other on his bed, him at the head, you both munch quietly in peace until he clears his throat, catching your attention. Looking at him expectantly, you wait to hear what he has to say.

“So.. about what happened earlier and what I said..” he’s not looking you but rather focusing on the wrapper in your hand. Raising an eyebrow at him when he doesn’t continue, you drawl out, “yees.” When he continues avoiding eye contact you realize it’s cause he’s shy. Holy shit. Bakugou Katsuki is shy? Omg he’s so cute I just wanna squeeze his pouty face and kiss him. You don’t though :( not right now at least.

“Oi stop staring at me like that creep. Can’t fucking concentrate,” he mutters. Shit when did talking become so hard? And why the hell was he so fucking nervous. He’s always been confident, even if he didn’t particularly feel like it at times. Hell, he didn’t even feel this way for championship games. That’s because he knew this wasn’t a game. This was a serious matter and something so important to him he doesn’t want to fuck it up.

“I need you too.” His head nearly snaps off from how fast he turned to you. You keep going. “I need you in my life, more than a friend, and I was trying in vain making myself believe otherwise. I didn’t think there was a possibility of something more between us, didn’t think that was something you’d want. So, I tried distracting myself. Going on stupid dates, talking to random people and seeing how and if they compared to you too. No one ever did, of course,” you say softly.

You look at him and he feels his breath slip away for a moment. You’re looking at him again like he just made the sun rise in the west. Like he was one of the seven wonders of the world you just had to experience and explore. You looked at him like he held the world in his hands and as far as he’s concerned, once he’s holding you again he will be. “I’d like that… spending eternity with you I mean” you finish when he gives you a confused look.

He flashes you that signature smirk of his that usually meant trouble. “Eternity, huh? I guess I wouldn’t mind putting up with your annoying ass for that long.” He laughs when you lean over to smack his shoulder. “Asshole,” you saying jokingly. He grabs your hand again and pulls you into him, leaning you both back against his pillows. You melt into him without hesitation, immediately finding ease and comfort. Amusement still danced in his eyes as he kissed your nose. “I’ll only ever want you, dumbass.”

“Damn straight.”

You giggled when he starts pushing you off of him, rolling his eyes. “No! Wait, I was kidding!” You laugh.

“What I fuckin’ thought,” but he’s smiling too. Soon you’re snuggling deeper into his chest, his arms locking you in place. He hears your breathing start getting more even and heavy, easily being lulled to sleep by his warmth and the feeling of his heartbeat. You don’t even fully register the chaos of the party still going on outside of your little bubble.

He looks down at you and watches as sleep slowly overtakes you, his hands mindlessly drawing on your back. He kisses your forehead and he can’t believe how long it took him to get to this point with you. He wasted too much time before and now he’s ready to make up for it. “I love you,” he whispers.

Before he joins you in dreamland he can’t help but veryyy briefly think thank god for Neito fucking Monoma’s dumbass.

#bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #bakugou x reader #fluff #katsuki x you #anime #bakugou fluff #bakugou x y/n

39 notes · View notes

beomglocks · 2 years ago

Note

mtl in txt to be brat tamer💗

OK LETS GO,, *um this is extremely self indulgent bc i myself am a brat so i can see myself in these situations* I’m sorry in advance

yeonjun

let’s just get this out the way, yeonjun is a brat tamer. no no he’s THE brat tamer. you may be asking yourself why but look at the way he treats beomgyu who is txt’s main culprit. he won’t take disrespect. absolutely no sucking of teeth, no rolling your eyes, and NO pouting. if you talk back well there goes your ass. spanking is main form of punishment, no further explainations. you need a safe word with him bc as soon as he feels like you’re being a little too bratty for it to be cute he’s like “cmon let’s go” you’re like 😒 but also kind of alarmed????? i feel like he can get really serious like he’s like “i said bring your ass here 🤨” you’re like no I’m not going to you leave me alone. DOES THAT THING WHERE HE POKES THE INSIDE OF HIS CHEEK W HIS TONGUE AND DOES A SARCASTIC CHUCKLE. will lean close to you a whisper “threats”” in your ear that have you squirming. yeah no, he will drag your ass to the bed and bend you over til you’re apologizing. honestly yall just like playing each others game.

taehyun

tbh i feel like he will tolerate it til it gets too much. he thinks you being a brat is cute like it’s endearing to him. he just looks at you fondly like “awww you’re so cute thinking you have all the control rn!! 🥰” tbh it’s just fun to rile him i feel like,, as soon as you talk back (which he hates) he’s like “what was that?” if you’re feeling extra bratty and you repeat it he’s like “yeah i thought so..what punishment will it be today” OMG taehyun is really the type to be oblivious as to why you’re acting so bratty it’s like he likes messing with you. phrases like “what’s gotten into you :(“ “why are you acting like such a brat” “you’re my good girl right? why are you acting out” but obviously you’re always like this he’s just having fun.

honestly the others i cant see being brat tamers. soobin & kai will cave to anything and prob let you run rampid. like idk maybe soobin just a bit like theres moments where he would absolutely have to put you in your place but its not really his thing. being with sookai you are literally their little angel no matter if you are acting like the devil reincarnate. beomgyu is literally the brat, change my mind on this one.

498 notes · View notes

tired-pigeon789 · 10 months ago

Text

A Deeper Understanding

(Astarion X Anemic GNreader)

Notes: this whole fic is based on MY OWN experience with anemia which happened with extreme blood loss and just general low iron. and is VERY self indulgent. I also don't think about Astarion romantically but if you read this fic that way go ahead. I don't blame ya lol. Tav is also gender neutral and not named, there no description of what Tav looks like aside from them at least having shoulder length hair. (I also didn't really re-read this lol so sorry for any mistakes)

word count: 1983

general warnings: lots of mentions of blood and blood loss.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was rough, the last encounter took a lot out of all of us and I’m feeling weak even after Shadowheart’s healing and the health potion. Even worse was the blood loss. Dreadful goblin gave me a deep slash and even though it’s patched I’m dizzy and lightheaded. A feeling I’ve grown used to but this is a new extreme. Personally I don’t feel the need to disclose my low iron. Just how often does one need to bring up such a thing? Well, one needs to bring it up when they are being healed I suppose. “If you knew you had this condition, why throw yourself at the main line of fire?” Shadowheart asks while taking my pulse. “I overestimated my abilities, yes, but at least they got me and not Astarion, he gave the final blow to the mage goblin.” I point out while I drink a hot tea while lean against one of support poles in shadowheart’s tent. She simply sighs as I feel her opinion change of me. “You’d be as good as dead if you don’t watch yourself. We already have enough going on.” I simply say ‘I know’ as I thank shadowheart for her help and rest up a bit before I go off and help the others set up camp for the night. We had found a cast iron pot and pan to cook with so at least I’ll be getting what I’m lacking from that. The stew Gale had made for everyone was wonderful and tasteful, and even though I had little to no appetite it helped and I started to feel more alert but sleep is still needed.

It was dark and late, the moon shines overhead and keeps my eyes closed. I feel weak after everything I’ve been through today but I’m just happy to have a bedroll to lay in. I just can’t sleep. In, out, in, out melt away stress. Breathe in, breathe out. I think this to myself as I try to sleep. I feel as relaxed as I can be but I just can’t slip away into the blissful void of sleep. First the blood loss and now the loss of sleep. There’s simply no winning today it seems. Sighing I open my eyes and gasp as I see Astarion hover over me, Fangs bare, a vampire. Quickly I prop myself up and try to steady myself despite the lightheadness and the massive headache.

“Shit.” He says as he backs away while I prop myself up on my elbows while I glare at the man “No No- It’s not what it looks like I swear.” “What the hell Astarion!” Glaring at the pale elf I see him look down at me. “I wasn’t going to hurt you I swear, I just needed some blood.” Getting at better at him I see now for what he is. “A vampire, honestly I'm kicking myself for not seeing it sooner.” I say as I try to keep my distance from him. “I’m not some monster,” he says in a desperate voice as he try to find the words to defend himself. “I only drink from animals, Boars, dear... Kobolds, whatever I can get, it’s just, after everything I’m too slow to go out and hunt.” “And you thought the best way to deal with that was to get a drink from me?” Astarion looks taken a back but sighs. “I just need a little blood, so that I may think clearer, and fight better. Just a taste, please.” The way he said please made me hold my breath for a moment. Probably because I know that feeling well. That lightheadedness, the faint lights that plagued my eyes when I walk the need to hold on to anything. It’s helpless feeling, one that I didn’t expect to share with a vampire.

“So if you drink my blood, you’ll be stronger?” I ask as I try to calm down and think more pragmatically about this offer. “It would benefit us all, but if not I could just hunt a bear or boar out in the woods.” Astaron says plainly. If I do this he’ll be better in combat, but I’m already weak as it is if I don’t sleep or eat something bloody myself. I know what he says is true, it’s basic logic when it comes to vampires. And deep down inside me I feel that understanding, maybe it’s one sided trust but I know if I had a way to rid of this feeling this hunger myself I would. At the end of it I sigh and nod. “Ok, I’ll let you do this, but you have to promise to stop when you have your fill and, you have to keep an eye on me.” Astaron smirks as he kneels in front of me with a look in his eye saying ‘I can’t believe I’m getting away with this.’ And frankly I can’t believe it either. "I promise you have my word. You can trust me” He says.

Laying back down Astarion hovers over me as he pushes my hair to the side, pulls down the collar of my shirt in a less obvious place to hide whatever mark would come of this, and takes a bite at my shoulder. Hissing in pain I take a deep breath and my hand holds onto his bicep as he drinks from me. The pain melts after a minute but the lightheadedness that I’m used to now feels even more nauseating and I start to push on Astarions shoulder to get him to stop. He stops thankfully but his face doesn’t leave the crook of my neck just yet. I’m shaking and running colder than usual, my breath is faint and I lay my head firmly on the thin pillow underneath. “Your blood, it’s faint. Are you anemic?” I nod as I try to control my breathing. “I know it isn’t a lot, but I don’t think anyone else in our party would’ve let you drink from them.” I say softly as I close my eyes as tiredness finally creeps up on me. “And I’d rather it had been me you drank from than some poor stranger.” “You’re going to be in a long sleep after this, you have nothing to gain from what you just did.” He says as he finally pulls away and looks down on me. “I couldn’t sleep anyway. And you got stronger right? At least a little bit? Surely it’s enough to cover for me tomorrow.” I jest a bit as I continue to shake a bit and cover myself with a blanket.

“I won’t drink from you again, your blood is very watery.” “Thank you?” I say weakly as I hear Astarion sit himself down next to me. “It’s not a compliment. You need to do something about that.” “Believe me I know. However last I checked I’m not in my cozy apartment in Baldur's Gate, where all my medicine is. I hate feeling like this.” opening my eyes I look over at Astarion as he just simply looks into the fire in front of us keeping us warm. “Be honest, with me” Astarion starts while he keeps his gaze on the fire, “If you knew you had this condition, why did you let me drink from you?” I think again for a moment before I speak. “Because I know what it feels to be weak from blood, It’s a weird craving and I know it horrible, maybe not in the same way as you but I can make a good guess. I’ll be fine, I’ve like this before.” I can’t move much, my whole body aches and my breathe is shallow as I feel the need to stay awake, it’s not really a fear of death from the Astarion bite but just unease and general paranoia. “Did my blood even do anything for you?” I ask. “Some what, I just didn’t expect the weak taste.” I just let out a small chuckle. “Talking about my blood like one would talk about wine, funny.” “how long had you know about your condtion?” my breath evens out but I still shiver under the blanket as I think about the question. “About a few years now, I figured it wasn’t normal to feel faint everyday.” Astarion hums in understanding as he sits next to me. “I’m surprised you’re still next to me if I can be frank.” I say softly as I look up at Astarion. “Can’t let the others think I killed you in your sleep now can I.” he pauses for a moment before he continues, “I also feel like we’re kindred spirits now in way” “you’re very funny.”

After a moment of silence between us, Astarion speaks up “you ought to sleep, there will be plenty to do when day comes.” I just hum softly while I cover my eyes with my arm “I doubt I’ll be of much use. You guys are going to need to do whatever is needed in my place.” “how long do think you’ll be out?” He asks with some surface level concern. I know he only cares enough about me to make sure I get the tadpoles removed, to how I just became the leader of this strange group I do not know but can understand why Astarion would ask that. I would too if I was him. Sluggishly I pull my arm away from eyes and see Astarion look down at me with slight concern but the arch and furrow brow of his gives away that he really doesn’t want to be next to me. Maybe it’s out of pity or guilt, or perhaps he just want’s to go hunt to get his fill. “I don’t know, but I know I can’t do much of anything tomorrow, I’ll be fine in case you were worried.” I say softly as the sweet void of sleep came creeping up on me, however I felt just as scared as I did when I first woke up in the Nautiloid. I know I won’t die in my sleep. I know I won’t. But the paranoia doesn’t leave me. I need to stay awake.

Struggling to keep my eyes open Astarion brings his hand over my eyes to close them “Sleep. like I said, I don’t want the rest of the camp thinking I killed you.” “How kind, but you would have though, Had I not woken up.” I say absent mildly. Astarion doesn’t say anything for a minute, not a ‘I would never!’ or a ‘yes I would.’ which in a way is enough of answer to me. I didn’t like that I was right. I feel the fire dies down a bit and I hear him shift the logs and the warmth comes back. “You’re not dead though, so lets not dwell on that.” he says. Almost like a child saying ‘you should be happy that worse case scenario didn’t just happen so you can’t be mad’ the idea almost makes me laugh. “You can still drink from me, only when I’m well of course and you can’t find anything else. I want you at your best.” “Even with your condition and finding out my secret you’d still let me drink from you? You must really not care about your life.” Sleep feels closer as I drift off while trying to the words to say something in response. “I’ll take my chances, I’d rather die bloodless than become a squid. But I’ve also grown to trust you a bit, Despite everything.” “Questionable logic at best my dear.” he chuckles which in turn makes me smile a bit. “Well I’m not in the best state of mind. But I don’t think it will change.” I sigh. “Sleep, I won’t leave-” before Astarion could finish his sentence my mind fades and I do in fact, finally sleep.

@half-poison-and-half-hope Just for you

#mick says shit #astarion x reader #buldars gate 3 #bg3 astarion #astarion ancunin #kinda angsty #astarion and tav

41 notes · View notes

enjoythesilentworld · 8 months ago

Text

Wille's Month - Riding

day 9 @youngroyals-events xx thank you for all you do.

“You’re sure you don’t want a ride from me instead?”

Wille really enjoys his morning.

rating: T (cw implied sexual content... duh)

read below the cut or on ao3.

A very loud beeping jolts Simon out of sleep. He scrunches his face and burrows further into the pillow, trying to drown out the sound. The warmth next to him shifts away and there’s a chill that runs down his back at the morning air on his newly exposed skin. Even worse, he’d been having a very nice dream, and was interrupted right before the good part.

“Sorry, love.” Wille’s sweet voice reaches his ears, much more pleasant than the alarm which is now, thankfully, shut off.

The sound reminds him that he can fix both problems quite easily. Not only is Wille perfectly warm, he was also the main star of Simon’s dream. He reaches out blindly, wrapping his arms around Wille’s waist and pulling him closer. Though he has yet to open his eyes, he knows Wille’s body just as well as his own and can easily find the soft skin of his neck to kiss.

“I’ve got to get ready for work, my love,” Wille whispers, brushing curls out of Simon’s face, who shakes his head and latches his legs around Wille, as well. “Simon.”

Grudgingly, he peeks his eyes open just a sliver to look up at Wille, who’s already smiling down at him with a loving gaze. “Get some more sleep,” he says, then begins to move away. And that simply won’t do, Simon has other plans. He lets Wille untangle himself from Simon’s koala-like grip, but reaches out for him again, catching him by the arm. Wille turns back and plants a soft kiss to the inner skin of Simon’s palm, then his forehead, before slipping away. As his beautiful boyfriend begins to clank around in the bathroom, Simon flops back onto the bed and thinks. He kicks the rest of the sheets off and poses himself just so, then he waits.

When Wille re-enters the room, humming happily, he barely spares Simon a glance, already browsing the closet for an outfit. He’s a buzz of energy, flitting around the room excitedly. This was pretty typical for Wille, ever the morning person, but Simon knows today is special. Still, Simon also knows he’d really liked that dream, dammit.

“Baby,” he purrs, rolling onto his side, “come here.”

It’s as if he’s said nothing, though, because Wille turns around, holding up two ties and asks, “Which do you think is better?”

Simon tries not to look too exasperated. He’s laid himself all pretty on the bed and Wille is asking him about ties.

“The right one,” he says, then crawls forward on the bed. “Do you want my help?”

Wille nods happily and strides forward, handing over the strip of silk.

“Guess what today is?” Wille asks giddily, practically bouncing on the spot.

“What’s today, baby?” he indulges, focused on looping the tie around Wille’s neck, being sure to caress the soft skin there as he goes. It’s one of his favorite spots.

Wille grins wildly and doesn’t even flinch when Simon leans forward to press a lingering kiss on his jaw. “I’m riding the bus to work today.”

Ah, yes. With Wille’s renouncement of his title and officially stepping down from the throne, he was now, technically, a private citizen. Things had been tumultuous and crazy for a while with the press and the royal court, but he had recently received the affirmative that he no longer required security or private transport. Now, Wille was just Wille. He finally had the normal life he’d been hoping for, wishing for his whole life. When they’d gotten the news, Wille had collapsed into Simon’s arms on the couch and cried in relief. Simon had cried, too. Like that last little weight had been lifted, that last little wedge between them removed.

So, when Wille had been hired for a new job soon after, he’d been ecstatic. He also had not stopped talking about how excited he was to ride the bus. Sure, they rode public transportation together all the time. This, Wille said, was different. It was an everyday, normal thing. Simon understood. In fact, he found it adorable, if not a little ridiculous, that Wille seemed more excited for the bus ride than the actual job.

“You’re sure you don’t want a ride from me instead of taking the bus?” he teases, giggling softly when Wille makes an affronted noise.

“Simon,” he pulls back.

“I know, I’m just joking. Unless,” he pauses, reaching out a hand to fiddle with Wille’s belt, “you’d like to ride me before you go?”

Wille groans and, ever so slightly, leans into Simon’s touch. “You can’t…”

“Can’t what?” Simon asks innocently, tilting his head up from where he’s knelt on the bed before his boyfriend. He leans upwards and presses a kiss to the corner of Wille’s mouth.

“I’ve really got to go,” he mumbles, half lost in a sigh as Simon kisses along his neck, using the tie to pull him closer. Simon just hums in assent, then guides Wille further forward, coaxing him back into bed. He doesn’t get very far, though, because Wille manages to slip out of Simon’s grip again.

“I love you,” he says, already grabbing shoes and heading towards the kitchen, “so much. And I promise the second I get home tonight I will be all yours.”

Simon groans softly in slight frustration, but lets him go. Any remaining frustration is quickly dissipated when Wille sends him many happy selfies along his journey. One at the bus stop, one of the bus pulling up in the background, one with the actual bus driver – how he managed that one, Simon does not know – and a final one of him settled in his seat. He looks incredibly happy and proud, and Simon’s heart swells at the sight. It all works out because later that night, Wille returns with a ridiculous amount of stories about the ride to and from work, then happily follows through on his promise.

#major fluff here #simon loves wille but also is a little frustrated #wille is a little shit #but not on purpose #you think imma write for this prompt and not make it a little bit of a joke?#you think wrong #wilmon #young royals #willemonth2024 #wmday9 #yr fic

25 notes · View notes

bugsbenefit · 1 year ago

Note

It’s because some of us can’t stand fanon mike he’s not will or el at the end of the day it’s not our fault the duffers already messed up his character arc long ago. some of us aren’t really interested in mike like that and to be frank I hate how much trauma people are putting on him as if he isn’t a privileged middle class *maybe cis maybe not* kid with insecurities cause he can’t play hero anymore like he used to. Fanon mike is retaliation to whatever we got the last two season from the character and I get it, but why are we keep acting like he’s important to vecna or the plot like that he’s just els boyfriend and wills crush at this point.

You don’t agree with this most likely but idc I’m just here to let this out for those who sympathize with mike. He’s genuinely not a interesting character and if Will wasn’t in love with him I wouldn’t look his way.

Hello? Will solo stan that doesn't get the show in My asks? more likely than you think

i'm sorry but you clearly sent this knowing i wouldn't agree with you and you don't sound like you want a conversation so... why did you send this? was it just to tell me there's people that don't care about Mike? because shockingly, i know that already, the influx in open Mike hate was why everyone doubled down on his character being important and purposeful last week in the first place

i'm genuinely confused on how you're watching the show, though. i mean, at least you're admitting you're only in it for Will so i guess you're aware of your bias and shortcomings?

also lmao sorry but *maybe cis maybe not*?? are you trying to say being queer in the midwest 80s in a small town with a conservative environment wasn't that bad or damaging or worth elaborating on because he's "probably cis" and the family is middle class? hello? newsflash just in, the queers need to stop complaining about how scared they are of coming out and potential consequences of it, if you're cis you're basically getting cishet privileges anyway. i'm really not sure what you meant to say here, you okay? also, aren't All the characters cis??

the vendetta you have against "fanon Mike" is fascinating tbh. what exactly is "fanon Mike" to you, bc the ask suggests it's just Mike with any motivations and 3dimensional writing orrrr? also thank you for telling me that Mike El and Will are separate characters! i almost forgot! i really needed the reminder that these extremely different characters aren't actually the same person or re-skins. thanks for your service, you really showed the evil Mike-sympathizers today o7

but you know what, sure, i'll indulge this a bit, i like talking about the show after all, you don't have to read this ofc, i feel like we're both aware we won't find common ground here

saying that Mike isn't important to the plot is batshit crazy sorry not sorry. not even talking about s5, it's just plain wrong in general and i'm assuming you haven't seen the show in ages

even right from the beginning Mike is established as the first MC and then proceeds to be the main pov for the entirety of s1. in universe Mike is the parties dm unofficial leader and according to Will "heart of the party", out of universe Mike is the only character that has established relationships and evolving conflicts with every single party member and even most adults like Hopper and Joyce. i don't know how you're watching the show to take away that Mike is unimportant and a support character

ST is an ensemble show and Mike is one of the characters, alongside El, Joyce and Will that consistently fills an MC role. (while also being one of the only ones to outright get referred to as one of the mains by actors and writers) where you got the idea from that Mike is a useless character people are stupid to care about is beyond me

if you're genuinely going into s5 hoping for Mike to be as unimportant and off-your-screen as possible i feel like you're setting yourself up for the disappointment of the century. i feel stupid just listing the reasons for why Mike is clearly going to be an important player in s5 because of how obvious they are but oh well

Mike is the first protagonist ever introduced and the final season that wants to go "full circle" Has to finish his arc satisfyingly for it to work

Mike is Will's love interest, a character that's already confirmed to be more of a main on screen again, so focusing on both parties of the ship is necessary to get them together

also Mike is still in a relationship? if he's supposed to go from dating El to suddenly dating a guy that's also his childhood bff you need to elaborate on his feelings. otherwise Will's romance is also going to fall flat and i'm sure you don't want that anon

Mike is part of the people that only came back to town after everything in s4 went down already and part of the group that seems to be the main focus in s5 (see the hill shot)

also just regarding the hill shot, Mike is center stage here (and also between his two "love interests"), totally accidental i'm sure

also the only character Will told about Vecna being alive in s4 and already swore to kill him with Will, also totally not a s5 set up don't worry

and before i go on here, aside from the writers themselves mentioning Mike as a main in multiple interviews David talked about the s5 mains a few days ago and Obviously Mike is up there along with El, Will and Joyce, exactly the people you'd expect

i don't understand how people are trying so hard to claim that there's nothing interesting about Mike to get into, as if even just s4 itself doesn't go out of it's way to set up an excess of potential conflict for s5

obvious relationship drama with El left hanging after an "i love you" monologue which we didn't see a response to yet

feelings for his best friend while he's still dating his gf

the unresolved painting lie

also the sexuality issue that comes with being queer/gay, that's been going back to s1. also made more severe by the show going out of it's way to repeatedly hammer home that the Wheelers are conservative and don't have close relationships with their kids

"you're the heart", speech about leading the party and bringing everyone together. he can't just face into the bg after Will gave him that talk, there needs to be payoff

the whole hellfire thing that's set up with the members names and faces being broadcast as "satanists" and the potential reason for everything that's been going on ON TV, sure that won't have any consequences am i right?

the Vecna plot itself, s4 makes it a point to have Will tell Mike and only Mike about Vecna being alive and the two of them agree to kill him right before the season ends

and that's just the obvious set ups s4 leaves us with, not even touching on the fact that Mike's pov has been withheld for essentially 2 seasons. which is something you can do and ignore, but only if the characters don't have anything going on during that time. Mike meanwhile changes drastically in these two seasons and we never get to learn what actually happened, why he's suddenly so set on growing up and getting gfs in s3, why he's suddenly such an uninterested bf in s4, why he suddenly feels weird about kissing El in the s3 finale after already having made out with her. there's a lot happening and we only see the fall out of it, we don't get Mike's pov. you call it "bad writing" but that's a picture book writing 101 set up, if you don't see that i don't know what to tell you

but i feel like you said everything already, i'm just rambling because i like talking. we probably won't find any common ground here. you only tolerate Mike because you like Will and that's that. not everyone has to care about every aspect of a show, however, i don't get why you're going to other blogs to tell them about your personal preference and about how you don't like one of the MCs. this is an ensemble show, it's not the El-show, and it's not the Will-show either, both of these takes are equally wrong

i don't know what the ideal s5 would look like to you, but if it turned out Will was the only important thing and the only character we focused on it would be absolute ass and horrible writing

Lucas just lost Max and left him with a shit ton of trauma, also Erica's gone through so much too. Max is still lost in a coma. El is distraught over not being able to save Max and now not find her anymore. Dustin just lost Eddie right in front of him too. there's a military presence in Hawkins now, the hellfire club fallout still hasn't happened, and so on and on. (also things like the "Nancy love triangle" still need time to be resolved too)

there's a lot s5 has to focus on to be a good wrap up for all these arcs. and yes, handling Mike's arc well is also part of that, shockingly

also ending this with a: you know people are allowed to like and care about character even if you don't give a shit about that character, right? claiming a central character with a ton of conflict set up isn't interesting is well withing your right and i won't change your mind on that, i'm aware, but going after people for actually caring about the conflicts the show is setting up isn't the move either. not everyone is obligated to share your views, especially when they're this far out there. and i feel like you knew that going in here

#help what a take #no hard feelings anonie we clearly knew there wouldn't be a consensus from the start here lmao #but oh well i'm still kind of surprised to see these takes ngl #ask tag

97 notes · View notes

twostepstyless · 2 years ago

Text

Love Locks

A Valentines Day story from the Not Just For Christmas series

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Authors Note: Harry is a hopeless romantic and Y/N isn't but let's him get swept up in the Valentine's Day festivities anyway because it makes him happy. This is the gift Harry got Y/N if you're curious! X

Word Count: 3k+

SFW

———

Paris on Valentine’s Day was, for lack of a better, a fucking nightmare. It was disgustingly busy as loved up couples were hanging off of each other at every turn. What was Y/N’s nightmare, however, was Harry’s dream come true. Harry Styles would be the first to admit he’s a hopeless romantic. He indulges in a romantic comedy film at least once a week, he has playlist after playlist containing endless love songs, and as January comes to a close and February eases in, he thrives on everything in the shops turning red and pink as he buys into all the novelty, heart-shaped rubbish they have to offer as the most important day of February creeps closer. Well, second most important day, after his own birthday of course. Valentine’s Day had become one of Harry’s favourite days, especially in recent years and his love for the day of love has only grown as he and Y/N celebrated their sixth one together this year. So yes, he’s a hopeless romantic. Love songs, movies, heart-shaped chocolates and all and is there anything more fitting for a hopeless romantic than whisking the love of his life off to the city of love to spend his favourite day?

-----

Vincent had his lunchbox and stuffed bunny packed and was off on a two-night sleepover at his day-care and boarders, ‘Barkingham Palace’ and Harry had swept Y/N off to the airport soon after they had bid goodbye to the happy golden retriever.

Now it wasn’t as if Y/N hated Valentine’s Day, she was fine with it, it was lovely but she didn’t need all the flounce and showmanship that came with the day. But Harry loved it, and she’d let him do whatever he pleased to mark the special day to see the smile and permanent pink blush that seemed to stain his face on days like today.

He had started their day in Paris by waking her gently. Crawling under the swathes of blankets that buried her in the hotel bed, his nose skimming the surface of her neck and alongside her cheek as he pressed whispers of kisses into her sleep-warmed skin until her eyelashes began to flutter as she stirred from her sleep. She could feel the warmth of Harry’s body as he held himself above her as his kisses began to press heavier on her skin.

“Mmm, g’morning,” she mumbled, wrapping her arms around his mid-section, pulling him down, revelling in the weight of him against her, “why’re y’dressed already?” she questioned with a pout when she felt his fully clothed body.

“Good morning, m’valentine,” he smiled before gripping her chin and kissing her soft lips, trying his hardest to deepen it but Y/N stopped him by turning her head away with a giggle.

“Nuh-uh, morning breath, plus m’not your Valentine, you never even asked me. Now answer the question, why are you dressed?” she shuffled them round so they were lying on their sides facing one another.

“I’m dressed because I’ve already been out this morning,” his finger booped her nose when it scrunched in confusion, thinking she would have heard him slip out or he would have at least told her he was popping out. “As for the Valentine thing, I sort of assumed it came with the territory what with being together for near enough six years” he quirked an eyebrow with a smirk.

“I still like to be asked, thought you were meant to be the romantic one?” she cuddled into the warmth of his chest.

“Oh, I’m very sorry, good thing I popped out early this morning then, eh?” Harry pulled himself out of her embrace and swung his legs back out the bed to go get something as she whined about him getting out of bed, “hush up, m’coming back,” he called back, with a teasing lilt in his voice, from the living area of the suite they were staying in. Y/N wriggled herself up in bed so her back was against the headboard, hands resting atop the puffy, white duvet of the bed as Harry reappeared back in the doorway. Y/N rolled her eyes playfully as a shy smile and giggle came from her when she saw the human embodiment of Prince Charming, with the twinkly eyes and showstopping smile to boot, crossing the threshold of the bedroom with a bouquet of the reddest roses you’ve ever seen paired with soft baby’s breath gypsophila and greenery, tied off with a silk satin ribbon in his right hand along with a card he was holding between his index finger and the bouquet. In his left hand was two boxes, one with branding she knew very well and another that was covered in plush velvet. “So, Miss Y/S/N, m’heart and soul and all that is good in my life,” Harry crooned as he approached the bed, sitting on the edge, “do me the honours and be my Valentine?” he asked as he handed her the bouquet.

Y/N eyes slipped shut as inhaled the perfume of the flowers before blinking them back open, “oh, I suppose so, I couldn’t take the heartache seeing your face if I said no,” she giggled before leaning forward and placing a delicate kiss on the corner of his mouth. A light blush tinged his cheeks as the hand that still had the card in it, punched the air and he let out a quiet ‘yes!’ under his breath.

“For you, my love,” he handed over the card and the two boxes as he took the flowers from her and went over to place them in the vase of water he had set up on the sideboard while she slept this morning. Y/N opened the envelope to reveal a delightfully tacky Valentine’s card that described her as wonderful, and special, and lovely, and delightful in the curly font of the printed poem on the front. She opened the card to see Harry’s handwriting with a much more personal note inside, as he wrote about what she meant to him and how she was the perfect Mum to their dog and how he can’t wait for as many Valentine’s days together as she’ll give him.

“Christ,” Y/N croaked out, her voice thick with emotion as she fanned her glazed over eyes with the card, Harry whipped round from his flower arranging with a look of worry on his face, as Y/N waved her hand trying to insinuate that she was fine. “Y’should try this writing stuff out professionally, you’re quite good at it,” she joked, placing the card on the bedside table next to her.

“Yeah? I’ll think about it, pretty,” Harry smiled as he perched on the edge of the chest of drawers where the flowers now sat pretty in the middle. “Want to open your gifts?” he nodded towards the two boxes.

“Ladurée macarons? Y’know the way to my heart, don’t you?” Y/N opened the box pulling out a pink tinged treat, biting off half of the raspberry flavoured macaron before handing the other half off to Harry who chewed it down quick.

“Try m’best,” Harry shrugged, “got one left,” his eyes glanced to the velvet covered box by her leg, as Y/N picked up the box with a deep breath, “don’t shit yourself now, m’not proposing in Paris, I know I’m a romantic but I’m not that predictable,” Harry smirked, “jus’ something pretty for my pretty.”

Y/N cracked the box open to see a golden bracelet fastened to the cushion of the box, with heart shaped precious stones in multi-colours fastened to the band of the bracelet. “Fuck off, Harry,” Y/N gasped, her fingers tracing the purple amethyst heart before running over the peridot stone next to it.

“That’s the one, right?” he asked, slightly unsure, she had mentioned the bracelet once in a passing comment when she it online, just a quick, ‘look how pretty this is’ while shoving her phone under his nose.

“Yeah, this is the one,” she breathed out, unable to tear her eyes away from the pretty jewellery.

“Thank Christ,” Harry laughed as she thrust her wrist and the box out towards him, silently demanding he fasten it on her. He stood at the edge of the bed as he pulled the bracelet from the box and wrapped it around her wrist, “like it, then?”

“Love it, too expensive though, H,” she chastised as the cool metal slinked against her skin.

“Eh, worth it,” he shrugged with a smile.

“You’re trying really hard to get your leg over, aren’t you?” Y/N giggled.

“Is it working?” he flirted, raising an eyebrow.

Y/N flopped the duvet that had been covering her open, “c’mere and find out,” and Harry didn’t have to ask twice before pouncing on top of her as she shrieked in laughter as his mouth attached to her neck. “I love you,” she breathed, combing her fingers through his hair as he peered into her eyes.

Harry’s smile burst across his face like the morning sunlight in the sky, crinkles appearing by his eyes, “and I love you” he said sincerely before sealing his lips over hers.

-----

With Y/N dressed and Harry redressed, Harry had her by the hand and was pulling on her hand through the streets of Paris, seemingly on a mission.

“Slow down, y’going to rip my arm out it’s socket and I don’t think that’s very romantic,” Y/N huffed out a breath trying to keep up with his long strides.

“Sorry, m’heart, jus’ want t’get there before it’s proper busy,” he slowed down slightly, not enough to make much of a difference. Y/N was grumbling, keeping her hand latched onto Harry’s as she dodged a couple who apparently just couldn’t wait and had to stop directly in front of her in order to suck the face off each other in the middle of the pavement.

“Get where?” she hurried after him before slamming into his back as he stopped dead at his destination with no pre-warning, “eh ow?” she complained, rubbing her forehead and then the back of Harry’s coat where her makeup had slightly transferred onto the fabric.

“Sorry, baby,” he tried not to laugh as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Yeah, you will be. Fuck, I feel like I’ve walked into a romcom or somethin’” Y/N looked around them, “there’s couples smooching everywhere,” some of them could definitely get in trouble for indecent exposure the way they were going at it on a busy street at 10:30 in the morning.

“Are you implying something?” Harry’s arms settled around her waist, pulling her close, his arms clasping at the base of her spine.

“Well, y’know I’ll never say no to a kiss,” she clapped her hands down on his shoulders and reached up on her tiptoes to press a series of kisses onto his lips. “Now, what did you bring me all the way to Paris for, hm?”

“For this,” he stood back and through his arm out, revealing a bridge that crossed the Seine.

“Y’brought me to Paris for a bridge?” Y/N gave him a look from the side of her eye, “I mean it’s a nice bridge, H…”

“Not just a bridge, it’s the bridge,” he laced their fingers together again as he began to walk them across the wooden slats that for a bridge had a remarkable amount of people, couples, lingering on it. “This is the Pont des Arts,” Harry said proudly.

“Oh, is this the padlock place thingy?” Y/N asked, and she now could see the beginnings of padlocks of various sizes, colours and shapes, locked onto the bridge.

“‘The padlock place thingy,’ really? Yeah, lovie, it’s where the Love Locks got popular,” Harry spoke, a dreamy sort of smile on his face as he looked at all the tokens of peoples love attached to the panels. As they said, he’s a hopeless romantic.

“You want to put one on, don’t you?” Y/N grinned, she knew him too well, he’s a sucker for this type of thing.

“Why else would I bring you to Paris?” he asked as if it was obvious.

“Alright then,” she sighed, “let’s pick a spot, yeah?” as Harry tugged her to one side of the bridge and began looking for a little space.

-----

“It’s a shame they get cut off by the city council after a little while,” Y/N spoke, watching Harry as he was crouched down reading the engravings on every lock he could see, every so often he’d go, ‘look baby, this one has been here since 2008!’ or ‘look they’ve put their baby’s name and birthday on it too, maybe we could come back and add another if we have a baby.’

“Humour me, yeah?” Harry stood back to his feet beside her and began shuffling through the tote bag he had on his shoulder before pulling out a bronze padlock and a sharpie from the depths of the bag.

“Yeah, sorry,” she looked at him as he took the cap off the sharpie and began writing, his tongue poking out the edge of his mouth in concentration, “what are y’writing on it?”

“Hm, hang on, I’ll show y’when m’done,” he mumbled before blowing on the wet ink, trying to dry it down before flipping the lock in his hand to write on the other side too.

“All these locks are corroding and destroying the bridges you know, years old architecture, not even just here, all over the world,” Y/N said as she watched a couple, clearly still young enough to be school students fasten a lock to the bridge, they’ve probably only been together a week, Y/N thought to herself, snapping her eyes away from them as they started a very awkward, wet, sloppy looking kiss.

“Baby, stop,” Harry whined.

“Sorry! I’m sorry, ours won’t do that, we’ve got a special lock,” Y/N giggled as Harry rolled his eyes playfully. “Do you know at some bridges; they are arresting and fining people for doing this?” Y/N piped up again without thinking.

“Oh my God, Y/N/N,” Harry capped the sharpie, tossing it back into his bag before looking up at her, “you’re like Valentine’s Day Satan, the grinch of love languages,” Harry chuckled pulling her under his arm as they faced the sea of locks.

“Sorry, my love, I’ll stop, know it’s important to you,” she squeezed his side before pointing out a gap on one of the railings, “how about right there?”

“That’s perfect, sweets,” Harry pressed a kiss to the top of her head as he unlocked the padlock.

“Gonna show me what you wrote first?” she nudged him with her hip to remind him as he passed the lock into her free hand. There, in the nicest handwriting Harry could muster up given the size restraints and writing tool, read H.S and Y/N’s initials, with the date of the 1st of September 2017, the date they made it official, scrawled underneath. Y/N smiled up at Harry’s bashful looking face, the pink blush she loved so much tickling his cheeks again, as she flipped the lock over. On the back, in tiny writing, read ‘Vincent Styles, 15/6/20’ his birthday in the middle of June. Y/N pouted at their dog’s name as her thumb rubbed over the tiny paw print Harry had drawn on in the corner. “Our baby,” Y/N smiled.

“Had to include him, he’d somehow know if I didn’t and wouldn’t talk to me when we pick him up tomorrow,” Harry said as Y/N laughed at how true it was, he really was a Mummy’s boy of a dog. “Gonna help me lock it on, m’heart?” he asked as he crouched down in front of the railing, as Y/N nodded, bending down next to him. Together the hooked the latch round the railing and pressed it firmly into the lock, pulling the keys free.

Y/N hummed as she looked at it, as much as she wasn’t as big a romantic as Harry, there was something about seeing it locked on there for the foreseeable future that made her tummy feel fizzy. In a good way. It felt permanent, the couple knew they were forever, but it was nice seeing something physical that proves that.

“Knew I’d get you on side,” Harry laughed, nudging her, making her lose her balance as they remained crouched in front of the lock.

“Oh, fuck off, you got me, it’s a nice idea alright,” she rolled her eyes as Harry helped her back to standing by the hand. “What do we do now? Toss the keys in the water?” Y/N peered over the edge of the railing into the murky water of the Seine.

“I think that’s what your meant to do, but a fuck load of keys in a river doesn’t scream eco-friendly does it?” Harry asked, twirling the key ring around his finger.

“Want to just shove them in the bin? It’s a bit less romantic but I suppose still does the unsalvageable idea? That is unless you dump me and want to go metal detecting through landfill to get the lock off?” Y/N joked.

“I’m positive there’s more chance of you dumping me,” Harry said as he began walking over to the nearest rubbish bin with her hand still in his.

“How about none of us do any breaking up with the other? I don’t think I could co-parent Vince, he’d also hate it and would be packing his lunch bag and bunny to run away,” Y/N giggled.

“Yeah, Vinnie is dramatic like that,” he agreed.

“He’s your son, of course he is,” Y/N teased.

“Oi!” Harry looked at her in faux shock, “thank you for doing this with me,” he then said, almost shyly.

“I’ll do anything y’want with you, you know that. Plus, this was actually pretty nice. You’ve got me locked down forever now, Styles, literally,” she nodded towards the section of the bridge where their lock was tied on. Harry smiled down at her, a soft look in his eyes. “My hopeless romantic of a boyfriend, eh?” Y/N grinned back, before reaching up and combing some of his loose curls back.

“Keys in the bin, then?” Harry asked.

“Keys in the bin,” she confirmed as Harry slung the keys into the metal bin hearing them land in the bottom with a clang. The symbol of their everlasting love for each other and their dog now attached to the Pont des Arts forever. Or until the city council cuts it off in a month.

———

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

312 notes · View notes

fragaria-imagines · 1 year ago

Note

I saw that you allow suggestive fics 🤭🤭

Can we please have one with Tuxam, like reader is teasing him while he's on his break from his service with Tuxedo Sam (if he does take breaks that is) (͡⁠°⁠‿⁠ ͡⁠°⁠) hehehehhe, thank you <3

Ahh thank you!! This is my first suggestive fic so I’m sorry if it doesn’t turn out well (,,>﹏<,,)!!

You consider yourself a very patient person, maybe even too patient, hell some might even call you a saint! When plans or dates are abruptly canceled at the last minute because your boyfriend has to work, you are more than understanding. Or when your boyfriend falls off the face or the earth due to work and doesn’t check in or call you, you once again, completely understand. Or when your boyfriend completely forgets to pick you up, —after promising you beforehand that he would—, because something at work came up, you still once again, understood.

But there comes a time in someone’s life, that being too patient and being too understanding, would one day run its course, and for you, that day is today. And while you knew realistically, that Tuxam wasn’t blowing you off on purpose, and that he really did have work to attend to, but for god’s sake, would it kill him to take a break from his service, every once in a while!

And as you made your way to the Strawberry Kingdom, bulldozing your way into the main entrance, scanning the room for Tuxam, you made sure to give him exactly that.

“Y/N, is that you? I wasn’t expecting you to come here today, is everything okay?” Tuxam asked in surprise, his eyebrows furrowed in faint concern, noticing how on edge you looked. You didn’t make it a habit to show up at his work unannounced or without telling him beforehand, so it was quite a shock and a bit worrisome to him.

Seeing the concerned expression on his face, did ease your annoyance and impatience from earlier, and you wondered if you were too hasty in your decision of confronting him head on.

However, as you stared at him a bit longer, those concerns quickly came to an end, as you took a really good look at him, a new set of emotions and urges took over you.

“Did he always look good in those tight leggings?” You thought to yourself, now no longer looking at his face, and instead, was blatantly checking him out.

You couldn’t help it, after all, when was the last time you two had some fun between the two of you? When was the last time he touched you? When was the last time you touched him? It seemed like your frustration with him earlier, didn’t seem to be stimming from just anger alone…

“Y-y/n…! Is there something you want?” Tuxam asked sheepishly, noticing how your attention shifted to his lower half.

You looked back at the knight in front you, who was now fully red in the face, barely able to make eye contact with you. And for a second, a slightly mischievous part of you wondered if he was just as red down there as his face was.

“Are you on your break?” You bluntly asked, avoiding his question, acting as if you weren’t blatantly checking him out and staring right at his bulge.

Subtly was never your thing, and while originally you were just planning to chew him out a new one for neglecting you so much. As you indulged further into your not so innocent thoughts, and noticed how just attractive he was in those tight leggings, a new idea popped into your head, an idea that would really show him just how needy you were.

“W-what? No, I’m not, I’m meeting with Hangyon right now actually, we’re supposed to be tallying up the fish population in the northern side of the blue bouquet” Tuxam answered, a bit caught off guard at how suddenly your mood seemingly changed from possibly agitated to gazing at him lustfully to acting nonchalant, in a span of three minutes.

“You look a bit tense, are you alright? Work hasn’t been too rough has it?” You asked softly, noticing the creases in his forehead deepening as he spoke.

While you knew Hangyon could care less about counting the fish population, and you were pretty certain that Tuxedo Sam did not ask Tuxam to do this, you knew that this was just how Tuxam is. How he always go above and beyond for the people he cares about, how he always so ambitious and driven when it came to fulfilling his knightly duties, it was one of the many reasons why you love him, and you hated to see him in so much stress, regardless if he did this to himself or not.

“Would you like me to give you a massage for your neck? It can help relieve the stress” You offered, before he could reply to your question.

Tuxam pondered at your suggestion, debating on whether he should take you up on your offer or not. On one hand, he had a lot of work to get to, but on the other hand, his neck has been killing him…

“I don’t know Y/N, I still have a lot of work to do and I don’t want to trouble you-“

“Oh come on! It’s no trouble at all, I’ll promise it’ll be quick, and you won’t even feel the pain in your neck, once I’m finished!” You promised hastily, knowing if you don’t act on it soon, you’ll lose your window of chance, the fact that he hasn’t bolted out the room already, is both of a shock and a pleasant surprise to you.

Before you could let him respond, you pushed him to the nearest chair, you placed your hands on him, starting to carefully massage his shoulders.

You felt him slowly starting to relax underneath you, a sigh of pleasure escaped his lips, when you started to apply more pressure. It was quiet, but you were certain that you heard it, a rush of excitement filled your body, as you wondered what other noises could you get him to make.

Your hands quickly traveled down his spine, carefully touching and groping every curve there is, under the guise of a “massage”. You pressed your chest on his back, practically leaning on top of him, you felt Tuxam breath hitched at the sudden contact of your body being so close to his.

“Y-y/n i don’t know if this appropriate, I still have a lot of work—Ah…!” A loud gasp escaped his lips, as your lips made contact with the back of his neck. He gripped the handles of his chair, biting his bottom to hold back his moans, as you continued your assaults on his neck.

You pulled back from his neck with a wet popping noise, taking a second to admire the hickey you left on his neck. Looking at the whimpering and shaking man beneath you, a thrill of excitement and pleasure rushed over you, as you roughly bended the smaller knight over the table in front of the chair that he was sitting in, his hat falling off his head and landing on the floor.

Your hot breath tickled his now bright red ears, and any thought or complaint he had before, were immediately shut down once he felt your body was fully on top of him.

“Is work really your biggest concern right now, Tuxam? Looks like I need to straighten that out…” You whispered in his ear, not missing just how flushed his face turned as you spoke. You slowly lifted his chin towards you, staring at his bright blue eyes that were once very anxious and stressed, now dazed and full of heat, and begging for you to take him.

You captured his lips with yours, and you were pleasantly surprised at the level of enthusiasm that you were met with. Even though Tuxam was not the tallest of his class, he was still a pretty strong knight at the end of the day, and if he wanted to, he would have no trouble flipping you over so he could leave for work, at any given moment.

So the fact that he not only stayed for this long, but was equally as needy and craved for this just as much as you did, made your heart flutter. You didn’t realize the growing insecurity that was looming over you about the state of your relationship, but as you felt Tuxam whimpering underneath you and trying to chase your lips, once you pulled away, you knew everything would be okay.

“You’re so loud Tuxam, do you really want the whole castle to hear you? That’s not very knightly of you~” You teased. Before he could retort, a loud moan escaped from his lips as you grind your hips against him, which only seemed to excite you and motivate you further.

As you quickly unbuckled his pants, pulling the waistband, exposing his rear end, Tuxam closed his eyes shut, fully aware that he was not going to be able to get back to work at all. And while usually, the thought of not completing work would put him over the edge, but today he didn’t mind at all.

For he has learned that maybe it’s not so bad taking a break from his duties every once and a while… especially if this is what’s in store for him when he does, then he might be inclined to take even more breaks.

#🍓: memoria #sanrio #fragmem #fragaria memories #tuxam #tuxam x reader #fragaria memories x reader #fragaria memories imagines #fragmem x reader #suggestive

40 notes · View notes

blkkizzat · 4 months ago

Note

you’re my favorite toji writer so i’m curious as to any head cannons you may have for him? can be nsfw or not! up to you lovely 💘

sorry this took so long nonny but i wanted to give you something good...

THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE!!!! HELLO!?!?! CAN I OPEN MOUTH SLOPPY KISS U ON THE LIPS!?!?

No one. I mean NO ONE ever says that to me about daddy Toji!! but I've gotten that so many times with Gojo and Geto and i don't even fux with them that hard. they is not my main mans (but im also for the streets so we dont send good diq away over here!)

Nah, imma share this in the group chat fr cause they always tease me about being a gojo writer now and im like NAURRRRR Toji is forever and always daddy.

SO BLESS YOU!!! THANK YOU!!!

I hope you get your ass ate for that one nonny. Also pick an emoji plz cause imma need to talk to you lots more

YOU GET ME. YOU SEE MEEEEE!!!! 💗😭💗😭

But Toji headcanons?? Oh you got it babes!! Theres are SFW cause im feeling a bit sweet and demure today jfkhdfjdh.

i really headcanon one of the best dynamics to have with him is a play/challenge type relationship with him where you guys share the same sense of humor and both a lil morally ambigious.

like y'all are constantly playfully dragging each other. i know this is already part of his "asshole front" of a personality but what surprises him is when you can not only take it but dish it right back.

example, toji is huge with a high metabolism so he eats alot, a party size bag of chips is like a snack to him. he also doesn't wanna share (greedy). so you def gonna say "oooo BIIIIIG!" when he flops down next to you on the couch prompting a grunt from him and him nudging the bag towards you with a slight dust of red on his cheeks.

oh speaking of lying on the sofa, i imagine you come home to see him laid out dozing and so you get comfy and instead of making him scooch over just light on top of him. either his stomach or back but usually he sleeps on his stomach so you are on his back, curling up on his broad back like a kitten. and he just grumbles a bit in his sleep and although he will never admit it he loves being the "little spoon" in these occasions.

also he is taken aback when you say you want to go with him to the boat races. after you nag a bit, he'll take you, thinking you will hate it. you love it, you're actually good at gambling, unlike him. and you actually win money. so now every time he gambles for ANYTHING, pachinko, lottery, cards, etc, hes texting you asking what you think since ur "his good luck charm".

i imagine for vacation "cause he never takes you anywhere" he'll take you to vegas, and y'all will scam harder than bonnie and clyde. y'all on the blacklist from every major casino by the time the weekend is over. but y'all up like $2 million USD.

Toji loves you because he can have fun with you and on a certain level he thinks you might be crazier than him. If he's telling you he's not sure if thats such a good idea and is the voice of reason then you KNOW you went to far lmfaooo.

Ah thanks for prompting me to write these anon! I really do headcanon a relationship where im just as wild and out of pocket as he is hehe. so this was def a bit self-indulgent.

#ೃ༝💌⁀➷ 𝓀𝒾𝓏𝓏𝒶𝓉мαιℓ #ೃ💌⁀➷𝓀𝒾𝓏𝓏𝒶𝓉αησηѕ #YOU DA BEST ANON LUV U #toji fushiguro #toji headcanons #jjk headcanons

17 notes · View notes

polarisbibliotheque · 1 year ago

Text

Writing Advice - Answering an Ask part 1

Hey everyone!! I recently got a super cute, beautiful and heartwarming ask requesting writing advices/how to beat writers block.

I wrote the answer on a doc and it has 3 pages, so I'm gonna be posting it in different parts - do forgive and AMAZING ANON WHO ASKED ME I HOPE YOU SEE THIS, IT'S PART OF YOUR ANSWER xD

Seriously, I've been sitting on this answer for a week now thinking how I'm gonna make it shorter >.<

So, without further ado, for the first part of the answer, I wanna tell a little bit about my writing journey - how I got from "not writing at all" to where I am now.

Because people think that you have a gift and words just flow like ambrosia in the cups of the gods - but I've actually started writing some pretty cringe stuff when I was 10 years old to get to a more poetic sort-of writing during my 29s currently.

THEREFORE, a little bit on how I got from cringy to still cringy but sometimes good writing ;)

I started by telling made-up stories to my sister when she couldn’t sleep and to my cousins during sleepovers because, I don’t know, they seemed to like my stupid little stories when I was 7 years old – or even younger. Sometimes I wrote some things, sometimes I didn't. But I was telling stories!

When I was 13, I discovered the magic world of fanfiction, and I wrote and published a HORRID thing on a fanfic website in my country, based on the band McFly that me and my sister adored back then (the gods have graced me with the power of deleting it and I thank immensely to that).

It was the first time I wrote AND published something to an audience outside of my friends/family.

After that, I kept on writing, and I moved to creating my own stories. When I was 14, I wrote a fanfic with the same band, but really the main theme was that I was an archeologist living in Egypt who researched on Atlantis and ended up finding the lost city. Somehow, I was allowed to climb the pyramids as well - because, you know, I ADORE Tomb Raider, and if Lara Croft could do it, so could I.

Told ya there would be some pretty cringy stuff in here, huh? xD

When I turned 15, I was bullied non-stop at school and so creating stories became my way to escape reality and have some fun with the people I wanted to meet in my life. I started carrying a notebook everywhere with me – it was my writing notebook. I had so many stories, and I never finished any of them (and good heavens, they are THE MOST cringy stuff, I’m glad they will NEVER see the light of day).

But I use the writing notebook thing to this day - whenever I'm travelling and internet isn't granted, I have somewhere to write.

I finished my FIRST novel when I was 16!! I was SO HAPPY about it!! It took me a year and a half writing it: a young adult book, kinda like Twilight (it was THE thing back then), with a secret society based on Arthurian Legend because I was a sucker for everything King Arthur (still am).

I can’t BEAR to read the first page of it nowadays, because c’mon. It was 15-year-old depressive me being bitter about everything and post-Twilight frenzy. The universe and worldbuilding has one HELL of a potential, but oh LORDS, it IS painful to read. I was a teen after all… But I finished a novel! If I haven’t done it, I wouldn’t be writing the way I’m writing today!

When I got into Law School, things got a little slow. I couldn't focus too much on writing and my social life improved a lot. I started tweaking my Arthurian story, but nothing too defined - I kept on writing lots of WIPs, though.

Around my 20’s, while I was close to graduating Law School, I started writing again… Supernatural fanfiction. With the SOLE PURPOSE of self-indulging, because I couldn’t find A SINGLE fanfiction that I could self-insert and love Dean Winchester while kicking some demon ass (sorry, I couldn’t resist the Nico inside me).

That led me to writing a 4-part Supernatural fanfiction that, honestly, for the next 6 years, it was the thing that made my heart soar while I was slaving away at a job I hated.

While I was overworking my ass off, I started writing (brace yourselves...) BTS fanfiction. I got into the band and some people from the website I wrote my Supernatural fanfic embraced me and kinda put me in the group and into the BTS world.

I was on the path of a burnout, so that became my escape - the girls from the website were so nice and we had many MANY writing projects of short stories. Throughout the years, I think I wrote around 25 or 30 stories, 40 pages max, to publish on this website and just have fun.

It started nice, but as time went by and I started moving out of the rom-com clichés (which are nice, don't get me wrong, we all love 'em) and became more existential and philosophic with a lot of metaphorical things while writing - and people stopped reading my work. I started to think I was bad, no one wanted to read because I lacked quality in my writing, or just my stories weren't so appealing as I thought. So I lost my will to write and slowly went back to my personal original stories.

When I hit 25 years old, I got fired and had a full burnout. I got really sick and my life literally stopped for the last 5 years - it has been hard, but that gave me time to sit back on my computer and recover ALL the books and stories I never finished writing.

I am NOT joking, I just counted all of them, and I have 65 DIFFERENT unfinished stories sitting on my Word folder right now on my computer. I also have a txt file I keep some “ideas that might be interesting to work on” and those have around 12 different full ideas of stories I might never write as well.

Upon hitting 27, I went back to writing niche fanfiction I didn't think anyone would want to read, so I published it here. I thought no one would want to read Devil May Cry fanfiction written by a woman who clearly worries more about the internal turmoil of characters rather than if what I'm writing is cute/rom-com like.

I opted for a more adult approach - given Dante and Vergil are adult men with lots of traumas, and I thought "hey, I don't have to write teenage things anymore, I can actually write how two adults would have difficult conversations and relationships in this fucked up world of ours" and that made a HUGE difference to my writing.

and once again thank the gods I found my people who like to read this sort of stuff :)

For quite a while, I was worried if what I was writing was consumable - you know, if the romance was that kind of tacky romantic thing to sweep you of your feet with perfect characters who don't exist, if people only have good times and are always laughing and having fun, if people enjoy touching each other 24/7 and being romantic and all that sugar coated stuff, if what I'm writing is politically correct, if it hasn't any subjects that are triggering or "wrong" in any sort of capacity... And that stiffed me. I lost my will to write and I stopped enjoying it, because I couldn't get my ideas out anymore.

Being quite honest, I'm not a person who had an easy, beautiful life. I had many things happen to me that made me understand Vergil on a soul level (and I think that's why I'm so comfortable writing him, as much as I hate that man), because I'm wary of people and my trust issues make me keep everyone at bay. I can only put my feelings safely out on my writing and my music, and I wasn't being able to.

So I tossed everything out of the window and started writing unhinged stuff. And oh, that made me feel SO good! I always smile a lot when re-reading my Cyberpunk-style story and a character called Abby tattoos on the ass of a corporate man that he is hers bitch, and when a "fallen angel" from my vampiric story smiles creepily and tells everyone she's got the most unhinged vampire on a leash and tells him to just kill everyone in the room for sheer revenge.

Not the best, politically correct stuff. Very wrong, by the way. But I had so much fun writing them, and it has so much character building behind these actions, it makes me feel nice :)

Out of all the 65 WIPs on my computer, I have around 5 that I think are really worth it for a full novel and so. They are:

My Arthurian Legend based novels. I outlined a series, I made character sheets, I planned and planned and planned... Since I'm 15, I've been thinking about it. Someday, who knows, this story will see the light of day.

My Cyberpunk-style novel. Halfway through it and every time I go "oh this is too heavy, I can't write this" I just toss the thought out of the window and go for it. Quite unhinged, very existential and grim, everyone is depressed and traumatized, but I love it :)

The Angel-Vampire stuff. Or, as I call it sometimes, the trip of an angel-like being going through the 7 deadly sins until finally falling for good, all aided by the most unhinged vampire in town. It's more like a villain origin story than anything else.

The Tea Shop thing. Oh, this one has been on my mind since 2018 and only now I've found some plot I like for it. Creation (yes, humanized form of creation) runs a tea shop and everything is fine until a woman enters and she has no Universe inside her eyes - and that is something to be afraid of. Doesn't make sense? Oh, yes, indeed. I'm going crazy with the concepts on this one, thanks to Neil Gaiman and The Sandman.

The rockstar guardian angel one. That's it. It's literally what the premise says: a woman has a dead rockstar as a guardian angel - and they couldn't be more opposite of each other. It doesn't help she's investigating his death and can talk to ghosts.

And my original vampire story, which I just call Nathan and Kathleen. I started this one when I was 16 or 17, so the writing is VERY cringy. I had just seen The Witcher 2 gameplay and, by then, I had never seen anything like it. As it's expected, I'm re-writing the 150 pages of unfinished work I already have.

Will this stop me from writing the other WIPs whenever I want to? Nah. I’ll keep on writing. Even if they are bad or horribly cringy.

Why am I blabbering about ALL this???

Because the most important stuff you can do is write.

You see, I didn't start out writing the way I do today - and I have so many stories, with so many pages, that I like so much, but I read it nowadays and I see I need to re-work them. And that's how you evolve! That's how you get better! By refining your abilities!

This is something I learned with the rockstars I love so much. None of them started out by playing perfectly - most of them had to sit down, listen and learn their instruments on their own. They got a LOT of things wrong to start getting something very simple right. And the more they play, the more they train, the more they refine, the better they become.

The same goes to writing - so, keep on writing! Everything you can, as much as you can, don’t feel bad about starting something new and never finishing another one, and don’t feel like you need to put out a masterpiece every time you sit to write.

Sometimes you just need to… Write.

16 notes · View notes