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snoopyhq · 2 months ago

Note

Can I request smut headcanons where his gn s/o worships Jayce, Viktor, Steb, Vander, Silco, and Ekko's bodies please?

˚ ♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ the altar is my hips, even if it's a false god

type: misc. arcane characters x gn reader

summary: different body worship with different arcane men

warning: explicit content, mentions of restraints (silk), guided masturbation, mirror play (i think?? idk the name. uh, involves mirrors. viktor's part), implied sex positions, etc. i don't think i can write full blown smut, mainly because i'm not practiced, so i'll try to make it as romantic as i can with extra zealous passion

minors dni, thank you !!!

word count: 1555

a/n: false god is objectively a banger and is one of lover's most underrated tracks.

dividers used made by @/diviniyae

˚ ♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ JAYCE

he's getting tied to the bedposts

no rope, no handcuffs, no nylon

red silk ribbons adorn his wrists and ankles, contrasting the warm brown of his skin like a trail of your freshly applied lipstick

which is now making its way down the column of his throat

he needs the stability and reassurance

you're restraining his limbs, not to hinder his movement, or as a play on his autonomy, but to hold him down so you could hold him close to you and dote on him like he deserves

he's completely shameless his breathy whimpers and gasps

which is great! it's exactly what you want

you want him to feel safe enough to express himself with you, especially during such an intimate setting

he's the most beautiful canvas in the world, and you're going to turn him into your next masterpiece

he's a marked up mess by the end. lovebites litter his inner thighs and upper body, and god forbid you's skimp out on his neck

each one is a physical reminder of the message you want him to carry with him everyday

i love you, jayce talis. don't you ever forget that

˚ ♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ VIKTOR

mirror, mirror on the wall. who's the fairest of them all?

it's viktor

this man would be living off work if he could. he doesn't take the time necessary to just spoil himself, so you're taking matters into your own hands

quite literally

after weeks of contradicting schedules, you both have a couple nights completely free

the floor length mirror had its cloth taken off and now stands opposite your shared bed, gleaming faintly in the dim light

you'd taken off his clothes too, slowly, murmuring praises about each newly revealed part of his body

viktor isn't one to blush, but your words always make a softie out of him

you sit behind him, your legs on either side of his as you two look at your reflections. he wants to look away, but your encouragement keeps him from shying away from the revelation of his naked form

your hands find his, and as the jazz music continues its sensual crescendo, you trail them down down down, letting the tips of his fingers ghost over his skin in a featherlight caress

you're kissing his neck and telling him just how great he's doing and how gorgeous he is, and how much he deserves to see himself from your point of view (i love you chappell roan)

his head is thrown back. his soft brown locks are on your shoulders, shifting slightly with his labored breaths as he finally takes the time to love his body the way you always have, with your steady hands over his, guiding his motions and coaxing him to climax

you see now, viktor? can you see just how beautiful you are to me?

˚ ♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ STEB

i'm sitting here cycling through a myriad of options for him

my first thought was hot springs, but then hmm. gross lowkey. i am a hot springs enjoyer, leave the scenic nature place alone! i berated myself

and then i moved on to a luxury bath

but then i remembered outdoor jacuzzis are a thing, and baths inside in like a house or apartment kind of became boring compared to this

so picture this: outdoor jacuzzi, secluded in the shade of your guys' garden

the giant trees sway in the wind and the sunlight filter through the leaves to create dapples that dance on both your slick skin, your hands on either side of his face as you two move in sync to the slow lapping of the water

he isn't a vocal one, but he has his tells

the way his breath hitches, the half closed eyes, the fluttering his gills when you add extra emphasis on the next roll of your hips

this man's an enforcer (unfortunate)

the stress of work often carries over to other aspects of his life, but he's been trained to remain stoic in the face of adversary

these stolen moments of intimacy are the few times he truly relaxes. be gentle and patient with him, and you'll have him beyond whipped

˚ ♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ VANDER

the only vanderbilt i know is vander built like the man of mine and sza's dreams

more surface area = more space to love on. btw

being a single dad most of his life is stressful, even more so when you combine it with the leadership needed to keep the lanes in order

the worship you bring him is akin to one for a wine god

you're both getting blacked out wasted

it sounds irresponsible, but hear me out

a space where he doesn't have to be the responsible, upstanding adult in the room, where he can just go buck wild and release his inhibitions? that would fuck so hard, ok

especially having you as his drinking/party buddy

the amount of dirty dancing you'd be getting into with the drinking games available would make a sailor blush

the bedroom is empty, and the commodities of the bar have found their way to this little haven

pour out a cup for this much needed reprieve

maybe upon him too while your clever tongue provides the drunken declarations of love

the only vanderbilt i know is vander built like a fucking snorlax

more surface area = more space to love on. btw

being a single dad most of his life is stressful, even more so when you combine it with the leadership needed to keep the lanes in order

the worship you bring him is akin to one for a wine god

you're both getting blacked out wasted

it sounds irresponsible, but hear me out

a space where he doesn't have to be the responsible, upstanding adult in the room, where he can just go buck wild and release his inhibitions? that would fuck so hard, ok

especially having you as his drinking/party buddy

the amount of dirty dancing you'd be getting into with the drinking games available would make a sailor blush

the bedroom is empty, and the commodities of the bar have found their way to this little haven

pour out a cup for this much needed reprieve

maybe upon him too while your clever tongue provides the drunken declarations of love

˚ ♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ SILCO

it's a game of tug-of-war

silco is a drug lord and basically rules the underground. he's not relinquishing power without a fight

crafty wit? physical passion? maybe even a game of chess. you choose

the game changes every time, which he finds refreshing and mentally stimulating

it eventually gets to a point where you're finally given the reins

your neck is covered in hickeys and there are scratches down your back by the time it gets there, but they're routine by then

you didn't leave him unharmed either

you may both be panting from the adrenaline and exhilaration, but the true reward comes from the deprivation of senses you love so much

the blindfold goes over, and silco's yours for however long you want to go tonight

you worship him the same way a feral animal would

it's pure instinct and desperation and hurts so good

the consequences can be felt in full later

when you've had enough of your fun, you finally remove the blindfold and let him see the wreck he's made of you, and you of him

make sure to remind him with extra kisses to the left one that he's the apple of your eye, no matter how rotten

aftercare. duh.

he's gotten his hands on the finest creams and bath oils, so you get cleaned and patched up in luxury. rivals a piltovan spa, really

the settle down from such ferocity to something so tame is the perfect balance for your stormy relationship

˚ ♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ EKKO

worshipping ekko is an event that takes place over the course of the entire day

you've planned it down to the letter

similar to vander, he's in charge of so much and takes care of so many people, so you wanted to be the one pampering him for once

breakfast is brought to him in bed, and the watching the sunrise is a relaxing start to the day

here comes a medley of dates

a walk down his favorite street and hitting the shopping district

you insist he get himself something from at least three different stores

then treating him to lunch before heading off on your hoverboards as you guys race through the sky

back home, you'd put together a skincare basket to do together. the whole routine of exfoliate, moisturize, and then the face masks

you talk about the exciting day you just had, fingers intertwined the whole time until it's time to take the masks-and clothes-off

he doesn't let himself relax often, but around you?

completely gone

you make slow, leisurely love, taking every second as a chance to appreciate him, his body, his voice and that brilliant mind of his

everything about him really

as for aftercare, you'd go to the kitchen, and cook a simple meal to enjoy together before falling asleep right in the living room, too tired to trek back to the bedroom

he's the little spoon tonight

you left no room for argument, wanting to be the one to cradle him close to you and make him feel just as safe and protected as he makes you everyday

552 notes · View notes

cosmicwavelengths · 3 months ago

Text

green green dress

minors, dni! - 18+ only pairing: bucky barnes x f! reader summary: on a rare night out with bucky, a stranger at the bar gets close—much too close for yours and bucky's liking. bucky deals with him—and you—the best way he knows how... (based off of the prompt: "wear whatever you want, i can fight.") a/n: hello again! first off, happy birthday to my main man buck - 108 today! possessive! bucky has been on my mind for awhile, so i decided to cook this up over the last two weeks or so. i hope you enjoy! as always, likes/reblogs/comments are always appreciated mwah (postscript, the restaurant in this fic is based on rh rooftop in nyc, and the dress i had in mind was this one from motel rocks, if anyone was wondering) comments/tags: possessive! bucky barnes can be a jealous, dangerous man - stay out his way!, avenger! female reader, avenger! bucky, wanda maximoff (mentioned), bucky gets a bit violent, no y/n use, strange man can't take no for an answer cw: smut, kitchen sex, rough sex, penetrative sex (reader receiving), afab reader, explicit content/language, multiple big-Os (reader receiving), love bites/hickeys, kissing, guy gets a bit hurt (mild violence), mentions of alcohol/drinking, mentions of light bruising, stranger pushing physical boundaries wc: 2.6k | masterlist | ao3 ────୨ৎ────

“So… how do I look?”

You twirl slowly, allowing Bucky to take in the sight of you. Between your never-ending stream of missions, it can be difficult to find time to spend with Bucky. The next time you both had the night off together, he decided to take you out to a nice spot downtown. Even if fancy dinners aren’t exactly Bucky’s favorite, he loves to spoil you and, more importantly, see you get all dolled up for him.

When he told you of these plans, you were giddy with excitement. Mentally shuffling through the clothes you have in your closet, you asked him what he thinks you should wear.

He shrugged, squinting at his phone. “Wear whatever you want, I can fight.”

You and Wanda decided to spend a morning out in search of a dress to wear. And after wading through rack after rack, you finally found it: a pastel green minidress, lined with lace fabric, brought together with halterneck straps that cascade down your back. Complete with a tiny white rose in the middle of your chest, you paired it with sheer black tights, cream slingback kitten heels, and your favorite white handbag. You curled your hair before placing it in a half-up, half-down hairstyle, holding it in place with a medium sized white bow. After putting on light make-up, you grab your heels and walk downstairs to where Bucky awaits you.

He’s dressed in his normal outfit: polished brown boots, black slacks, his usual pair of gloves and a leather jacket. He traded out his normal long sleeved Henley for a crisp white button down, accompanied with a fresh haircut. Looking up from his phone, he sees you standing before him with a smile. His eyes rake over your figure, mentally noting how the dress fits you like a glove around your waist and hips. Even though you’ve been together for awhile, you still flush under his intense gaze—he still makes you shy with all his attention.

Walking towards you, he brings his large hands to your waist, gently tracing the seams with his thumbs. “Sweetheart, my, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” He presses a kiss to your cheek, making you giggle. Craning his head downward, his lips hover to the pulse point on your neck, leaving another kiss. “Tell me why I shouldn’t take you over the counter right now,” he whispers, tightening his grip on your waist.

Running his teeth over your skin, he forces a quiet whine from your throat. “Because, I am hungry and have been looking forward to this dinner all week. And judging by how you’re trying to take a bite out of me right now, I bet you’re hungry too.” Chuckling, he steps away from you. “Not my fault you’re so beautiful, I can hardly contain myself. I’ll call for a car.”

Situated atop a luxury storefront, you loop your arm into Bucky’s as the elevator takes you up. The rooftop bar is decorated with greenery and intricate glass chandeliers cascading down from the ceiling. For a Friday evening, the restaurant is unsurprisingly packed with patrons in the dining area and the bar. Taking a moment to rest your feet, you sit on a sofa near the entrance while Bucky checks in with the host.

He returns with a miffed expression etched on his face.“They said they’re behind schedule tonight, but they’re letting us sit at the bar while we wait on our table. I guess us having a reservation doesn’t mean much,” he informs you, grumbling the last sentence with a crabby tone. You smile up at him, undeterred from your objective of having a nice evening. “That’s fine, I could use a drink anyways.” Extending his hand, he helps you up from the sofa and leads you to the bar.

By chance, you were able to find a seat at the crowded bar. Bucky calls the bartender over to order you a drink. Losing yourself in conversation with him, you nearly miss the drink that the bartender drops off in front of you. Puzzled, you wave her down. “Hi, excuse me, but I don’t think this is what we ordered…” you trail off, embarrassed to have interrupted her workflow. Continuing to polish the martini glass in her hand, she explains. “Oh, that drink is actually from the man down there,” she smiles and nudges her elbow in his general direction. You peer over to see a well-dressed man sitting alone with a glass of whiskey in front of him. Catching your eye contact, he throws a lecherous smirk in your direction.

You shrink a bit, glancing between the man and the drink in front of you. “Oh, it’s okay, I’ll just stick with the drink I originally ordered, thank you and sorry for the trouble.” Giving her a shy smile, you push the glass back towards her. You turn to look at Bucky again, who’s taken to staring at the man rather pointedly. Taking in Bucky’s tense body language, you place your hand gently on his vibranium arm. “Bucky, it’s fine, don’t worry about it,” you add a sheepish ‘please’ at the end, hoping things won’t escalate. Bucky is generally a patient man, but it quickly wears thin when it comes to other men giving you attention. Or anyone, really.

He doesn’t break his stare, piercing blue eyes continuing bearing into the man’s skull. “I don’t want him looking at you,” he uttered, sneaking a protective hand around your waist.

Fifteen minutes pass, and you've finished the drink that Bucky ordered for you earlier. He takes it upon himself to inquire about the status of your table, leaving you alone while he looks for the host. The crowd had thinned out by this point, leaving empty spots open. While you flip through a menu the bartender had provided, the same gentleman from earlier, clearly not deterred from Bucky’s previous death stare, slides into an empty seat next to you. He leans against the bar, attempting to look casual.

“Hey,” he grins at you in a pitiful attempt to flirt. Unfazed, you throw him a side eye before looking back at the menu, ignoring him. Not put off by your coldness, the stranger shifts his body, angling his torso at you.

“I can’t believe that someone would leave a pretty little thing like you alone. I love that gorgeous dress you’re wearing.”

“I’m not alone, and I don’t wish to be bothered,” you scoff, keeping your attention fixed on the menu.

He chuckles darkly before downing the rest of his drink. “I love it when they play hard to get,” he comments, more to himself than to you.

“Look,” you spat, firmly closing the menu. “I have absolutely no interest in whatever this—” you pause for effect, waving a hand over him, “is, so you should leave me alone before you get hurt,” you finish throwing a glare in for good measure. If he had any ounce common sense, he would leave now before—

The stranger laughs at you again, and this man had the sheer audacity to toss an arm over your shoulder as if you were old friends. You immediately recoil at this invasion of your personal space.

“Oh, absolutely not—”

Before you had the chance to properly shove him away, Bucky, who seemingly appeared out of thin air behind you, violently grabbed the man’s hand off of your shoulder and twisted it behind his back. He yelps, losing his balance and falling off of the barstool. His metal hand reaches for his hair, yanking his head up so Bucky can speak directly into his ear.

“Don’t you fucking dare put your hands on her. I don’t do second chances, so I suggest you walk out of this bar now if you value keeping this arm—or your life.”

“James,” you hiss. Jumping up, your eyes dart between him and the man beginning to whine loudly in pain. Bucky’s spectacle had started to gather attention from nearby patrons, who began whispering amongst themselves and pulling out their phones. “Please don’t.”

After a moment, Bucky finally relents, releasing his tight grip on the man’s arm and letting him crumble to the floor. He scrambles to his feet and hobbles out of the bar hastily, wincing in pain.

“We’re leaving,” he grunts. He fishes for cash in his pocket before tossing some onto the bar.

“...But I’m still hungry,” you reply woefully. Shooting you a look, he wordlessly takes you by your wrist and guides you towards the exit.

Bucky was seriously pissed. Seething, even.

His anger practically melts off of him, making the car so thick with tension you could cut it with a knife. While he wasn’t exactly angry at you, the whole situation put him in a rather terrible mood, and you knew better than to start a conversation with him when he was in this state. Feeling resigned, you stare out your window and watch the skyscrapers go by, thankful he didn’t toss the man off of the roof.

At home, you kick your heels off by the door and walk to the kitchen, pulling out your phone to search for food options. You barely had the chance to sit down on the barstool in front of your kitchen island before Bucky is on you. From behind, he fumbles with your halter straps and lets them cascade down your front, completely exposing your chest.

Feeling the cold air hit the peaks of your tits, you stiffen. “Bucky!” He drops his head to your neck, sucking in a hickey into the flesh above your collarbone. “Oh…” His tongue lathers over the growing bruise he left.

“The only thing I’m interested in eating right now,” he breathes hotly into your ear before running his fingers over your chest, causing your nipples to pebble under his touch. “—is you.”

You whine when he brings his metal hand up, using the cool tip of his index finger to trace circles over your hardened peak. The temperature difference of his digit has you feeling yourself becoming wetter, your arousal soaking into your panties.

In a rapid motion, he spins you around on the barstool and grabs you tightly around the waist. Picking you up, he places you on the kitchen island, eliciting a small gasp from you. He chuckles at your reaction before closing the distance with a kiss. Bucky moves to deepen it, dragging his teeth lightly against your bottom lip before parting them slightly, allowing his tongue to slip inside. All you can do is moan as he works his warm lips over yours, sending vibrations against his own. His hands fall from your waist to your ass, pushing you forward to make you feel how his cock strains against his dress pants.

Your head rolls back with pleasure, losing yourself in how the seam of his pants brushes against your clit through your thin panties. Biting your lip, you struggle to hold in a whimper from the contact. Bucky smiles devilishly at you, taking a moment to watch you get yourself off by grinding against his clothed cock. He lets you persist for a few more seconds before holding your hips in place, holding you back from bucking into him. You whine quietly at the lack of contact until his lips latch onto your tits and suck on your hardened nipples, making you keen loudly for him.

Anticipation shoots through your spine as you hear the zip of his pants and the subsequent sound of hardware hitting the floor.

“Fuck, Babydoll, I’m gonna make you feel so good. ‘m gonna ruin anything and anyone else for you.” Forcefully parting your knees, he slides up the fabric of your dress, finally allowing himself to look at your glistening slit. Just for him. You feel so exposed, so exposed and you don’t fucking care, you need him inside of you. “Now, now, Bucky, please? Please give it to me!” you plead, wide doe eyes on display.

“Need what, sweetheart? Let me hear you say it,” he demands, gliding a light finger through your slick folds, making your eyes roll.

“Fine! Fuck me, fuck my pussy with your cock, please?” The words tumble out of you, needy and pathetic as you writhe your hips into his touch. Bucking your hips up, you search for something—anything to sate the ache that sits deep in your core. Leaning over you, he grazes his stubbled cheek over your smooth skin before whispering in your ear, “Atta girl.”

Pressing a polite kiss to your cheek, slides in, burying his cock your slick, tight cunt to the hilt. Taking a few grounding thrusts, he digs his fingertips into your hips before setting a hard, furious pace. “F-fuck! Bucky, please don’t stop!” You get impossibly wetter at his eager pace, squelching sounds echoing in the room.

He grunts unintelligibly in your ear, knowing that stopping is the last goddamn thing he’d want to do right now. He reaches behind you, shoving away the random tchotchkes and assorted papers on the surface behind you, allowing you to lie flat against the counter top. Shivering from the coolness of the marble against your back, he resumes his rough pace, groaning as he fills you over and over again.

“Oh fuck, sweetheart. Y-you really have no idea what you do to me, do you?” Bucky growled, pulling his cock all the way out before slamming back in, making you shriek with delight. “You’re so fucking beautiful, you know that, right? So good for me… Your cunt was made just for me. Just. For. Me.”

Punctuating his last words with his thrusts, he ghosts his fingers between your thighs, reaching for your clit and circles over the bundle of nerves. Inhaling sharply, you quickly come undone under his dizzying strokes. One light brush accompanied with a particularly deep thrust has you cumming under him, shaking and dissolving violently. As your orgasm ripples intensely through your core, you drag your nails down his back creating red lattice marks on his skin.

“Fuck! Bucky, I can’t—” Your back arches away from the marble as you attempt to move away from his thrusts.

He hushes you, gently covering your mouth with his hand and holding you still with his vibranium hand. “I know, I know, darling. Let me use your sweet cunt. Just lie back and let me take you, okay?”

With your whines and moans now muffled by his hand, he continues to pound away at your overstimulated pussy until you feel dizzy, screwing your eyes shut in an effort to ground yourself. Just as he was nearing his own orgasm, he felt you clamp down and get impossibly tighter around his cock.

He drags his hand down from your mouth to your jaw, holding you tightly in place. “Fuck, oh shit, doll, look at me,” Bucky lets out a strangled moan before cumming inside of you. His release triggered something deep in your core, making you scream bloody murder. A second orgasm rips through you, walls pulsing, your sore pussy drinking up his spend. You collapse into a sob when you feel him pull out, trying to adjust to the sudden feeling of emptiness.

Breaths ragged, he trails kisses up your neck while slowly rubbing the growing dark spots in your hips where he had gripped tightly. “You’re my girl, never forget it,” he murmurs hotly into your warm skin. Trembling, you nod, wrapping your shaking legs around his waist and pulling him into an embrace.

Later, you’re both relaxing in bed, exhausted from an evening of activities. Activities, you think, still feeling your inner thighs twitch. “Y’know, I’m glad you didn’t overreact or anything earlier,” you said, smiling. “That could’ve been really bad.”

Bucky huffs, shuffling on the bed to look at you. “You know I don’t like it when people get too close to my girl.” He runs his flesh hand through your hair, making you relax into his touch. “Besides, I probably shouldn’t do anything that threatens my pardon.”

You laugh, rubbing his cheek lightly with your thumb. “I love you.”

“Love you too, sweetheart.”

174 notes · View notes

janumun · 2 years ago

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Being the brand new omega roommate for alpha Alhaitham and alpha Kaveh, who were both carefully looking for a needed extra to fill in the space in their housing near Port Ormos, purely for important research purposes Alhaitham claims.

And conveniently, they were also looking for another proper lover (Preferably an omega) for their alphan pod for their upcoming ruts, both of which just so happen to be right around the corner.

Poor sensitive alpha Kaveh, and absolute buster alpha Alhaitham, are both equally slick and suave in pursuing what they desire. Once they put their mind to something none can ever stop them from achieving their appointed goal.

Kaveh is more romantically obvious than Alhaitham, but that doesn't mean Alhaitham won't have his fair share of aces up his sleeve to properly convince you to join them in their pack. And with their ruts coming up alongside the brand new omega moving in, time is short and ever increasingly fragile.

Surely you will be so kind as to aid their little predicament?

OBLIGATORY NSFW 🔞 BREAK

Before we dive pussy first into this, I’ll have you know that your Ask was what took me out of commission for this long, Nonny. I had to sink back into the sofa and just stare into space for the next several weeks. 🤣

While I would’ve really loved to write something more cohesive for this (I am so, so insane for the ABO AU), the ideas I had would’ve ended up spanning a multi chapter fic, which I simply could not afford to work on, at the moment xD You are so ✨big-brained✨ for this, though!

If you’ve read a couple of my stories, you might’ve noticed I prefer romance dashed spice over hot, sweaty, sexy spice (very good on you if you prefer the latter!).

I’m currently working on a story where Traveler (/my MC) lives with the Akademiya duo and part of their dynamic might be reflected in these few headcanons I’ve got for Alpha Hai/Ω Reader/Alpha Kaveh.

I cannot believe this is nearly 1k words of ABO thirst because I simply hold no control over myself.

Al-Haitham’s fond of you. It isn’t quite what he intended — nor the direction he intended it in — when he divulged the fact that he was interested in you.

Perhaps, it is your unconventional ideologies, only on par with Kaveh’s naivety, or perhaps the way you seem to have Kaveh so domesticated (he was at Al-Haitham’s ear for weeks for daring to point out how the two of you seemed to get on like a house on fire, worded perhaps in less kinder terms) it’s an amusing sight to witness.

Or your unwitting genius, when you come across Al-Haitham on days he’s going through new texts, and strike up a debate regarding the contents of the author’s mindset and the degree and quality of said research.

He isn’t quite as obvious as Kaveh; ready with his smiles and clear affections worn across his sleeve.

…Nor is he quite as lacking as his former friend in self-discipline, when it comes to reigning in his instincts as an Alpha. Finding himself against you at the weakest callings of an approaching rut, or the siren call of your heats. Al- Haitham supposes you too are to blame, for spoiling Kaveh as you do; you never turn the man down and try as Kaveh might, to be a gentleman and spare you, it is always you giving him the go-ahead to fuck you as he pleases, wherever…

And later on, whenever—

His ruts are close at hand, Kaveh finds it physically intolerable to have you close and not bury his entire body into yours, threading his limbs about your body and sinking his face into the soft heat of your breasts.

He started off gentle and slow at the beginning of your arrangement, and he remained determined to follow through his resolve to relieve himself on your scent alone. The idea of tackling you down like some sort of… beast every time a rut hit, seeking you out for mere physical relief — despite your arrangement — didn’t sit right in his heart.

But you are a curious and fascinating creature, and Kaveh did not quite bet on being as infatuated with you as he is; you seem almost crafted to complete a whole of him. And you are… unfortunately, incredibly persistent.

And—

Incredibly tight, he gasps. When Kaveh finds himself buried up to the hilt within you, he’s blind to all sense except the feeling of your wet heat, the burn of pleasure streaking up his length and knotting into his abdomen with the force and desperation of his thrusts. Close, the need to have you closer burning at the back of his throat and gnawing with the bite of bitter teeth into the swell of his lip.

“K-Kaveh.” Before you scold, and he complies, immediate; love-stricken, lust-driven, clenching his teeth into a bite at your shoulder and moans deep and long, mirroring the intensity of his release into you.

Nosing at that spot against your neck in post coital euphoria and overwhelming protection. Uncharacteristic burst of an intolerable instinct to bite into you and mark you his.

When Kaveh and Al-Haitham have their ruts coincide on the rare occasion—

The Scribe does not shy away from availing his privilege of several days of paid leave, off his roster of scarcely used holidays, when his ruts are near carnal, and certainly not when they happen to fall upon the same cycles as Kaveh’s (perhaps a natural result of bonding with the same omega). He needs the entirety of a 24/7 workday and more, when he is forced to share your body, pleasure and time with Kaveh. The latter not ceasing to whine and huff, even as he moans at Al-Haitham about positioning her right, going slower so she can concentrate on us both.

Taunts usually he answers with silence, or on occasion, when Kaveh is unbearably loud,

“Perhaps you aren’t pleasing her as well as you seem to think yourself able, if you believe she cannot concentrate simply because I am “harsh” on her.” Punctuating his statement with a particularly firm thrust, your quivering moan breaking along with Kaveh’s fumed sputtering.

Your tightening, at the punishing pace Al-Haitham sets for you both, dragging their orgasms from the Alphas at the same time, flooding you to the brim with their hot seed. Their knots traveling up and lodging into your pussy undoing your own vehement release from how large the stretch is, all of a sudden, and you see stars as you collapse against Al-Haitham, his low grunt burning at your ears from how incredibly hot you find him, so undone inside you.

Squeezing around them on instinct, pulling a collective groan from the two men. Al-Haitham raises his head, his gaze inspiring a fresh wave of nervous anticipation inside you, from how he looks at you as if he has no intentions of stopping until he has you well and truly bred. A man of spare words but the intensity of his lust and emotions once unstoppered, is enough to have your legs aching for days after.

A shudder creeping up your body from where he treks a gentle thumb against your cheek and just before he kisses you, a whisper of one, “Well done,” has your heart soaring within your chest.

And if Kaveh’s soft brushes of kisses against the crown of your shoulders, venturing just shy of your glands, is anything to go by, you know he too, is far from done yet.

#asks #anonymous #genshin impact kaveh #genshin impact al haitham #al haitham smut #kaveh smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader smut #genshin kaveh x reader smut #genshin al haitham x reader smut #GI kaveh #ns/fw #janulogue

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saturnbellfromhell · 2 years ago

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ASTRO OBSERVATIONS

On today's astrology post I will list my favorite placements, signs and aspects. Now, there are many of them so I'll make a part two next week if this this one is liked by all of you. Hope you enjoy!

🟤 Jupiter in the 1st House

This placement is like finding a pearl in the ocean. These natives ooze positivity, truthfulness and cuteness. Their desire to make others feel content and loved is something I admire about them. They are the wise and thoughtful one of the group and they truly deserve the biggest hug anyone can give.

🟤 Mercury in the 9th house

The dictionary on two legs. These people are so interesting to befriend. They always have new knowledge to spread and are interested in anything from novels, essays, poetry, encyclopedias...they are hungry to learn and spread their knowledge. They also love learning other languages and others traditions. Very open to talk about anything and everything.

🟤 Cancer Moon

I've already wrote about this placement in my Moon saga, but it definitely needs another reminder. The softness, loyalty and nurture these people have is healing, physically and emotionally. They will do anything to make you feel comfortable and safe, always help you with anything you need and never back down from you even if the whole world is against you.

🟤 Lilith in the 1st house

They're just the definition of sexiness. You can spot them from a mile away and the moment you touch them you can really feel this raw energy they give.

🟤 Sun in 8th house

Having such a personal sign in one of the darkest houses can be quite a storm to overcome. Nevertheless these people are so brave and utterly beautiful from the inside. They hold their pain away from the world with a hard shell of humor and sarcasm. This placement is the one which inspires many. They deserve recognition and to be taken care of.

🟤 Mercury in Pisces

They just know how to explain everything in your manner, being that you're a child, teenager or grown adult they are so patient and talented for it. Never wanting to fight, always thinking before speaking and truly an emotional fairy of words.

🟤 Moon in the 12th house

These natives feel everything and anything. They always know how to make your day better of what to get you for your birthday. With a collective sense of emotion and the willingness to constantly heal, these are the witches of the zodiac. The one's always seeking the darkest parts of others and seeing beauty in it.

🟤 Scorpio Rising

They have such a captivating appearance with their fierce look and everylasting eyelashes. They seem scary and creepy to some, but I beg to differ.

🟤 Scorpio Sun

Even though people love to hate Scorpio sun's, I absolutely adore them. I mean I am a Cap, so dark humor, making fun of others, the cold shoulder and sarcasm are nothing new to me. They are very loyal individuals, that's a fact, even though I've never dated one...but the friends I had as Scorpios are amazing people to have around.

🟤Sun trine Moon

What can I say, the harmonius aspect between the ego and the heart. These individuals are the calm one's who always have a wise answer for everything. Down to earth and an amazing support system.

🟤 Pluto in the 9th house

These individuals cam experience some rocky times in school and/or college, but after some ups and downs they are such interesting individuals. I've also met alot with this placement who love anything crime related especially serial killers and looking into their demonior and motives. They are the curious cats and are highly intelligent. Absolutely oppressed with these people.

🟤 Leo Venus

Even though they're not for me, being a earth Venus they are the one's that love showing their partner off and put them on a pedestal. They make you feel like a Hollywood star and being out the red carpet out every other day. They are the one's to spoil the hell out of you.

🟤 Neptune in the 11th house

Having this placement myself I know the struggle of always believing others and getting hurt by their selfishness. You always feel like your peoples second even though ypu try your best. So all my Neptune 11th hoursers, you're not alone. Love you alot!

Xoxo Numa

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yesimwriting · 4 years ago

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To Be Alone

VAGUE SPOILER WARNING FOR SHADOW AND BONE BOOK SERIES-- I try hard not to mention why the Darkling/General Kirigan is the bad guy so that I don’t spoil anything,, but the reader finds out that he lies about his identity and that he’s super sketchy/not a good guy (again,, I avoided as many specifics as possible to keep it from being spoiler-y)

Warnings: lowkey manipulation, kissing/makeout, slight fingering

A/n y’all drove me to this lol,, pls be nice!! This is the closest to full on smut I’ve ever written!! Ahh I’m lowkey scared to post

Summary: the reader finds out something about the Darkling/General Kirigan, he finds a way to convince her to stay

No amount of evidence will ever be enough to convince me fully. A part of me will always hold onto unjustifiable doubt because a part of me hopes that if I hold onto the lies tight enough they’ll turn into the truth. But that’s not how the world works.

General Kirigan. Ravka put its faith in him. I put my faith in him. I did more than that. I pushed aside my reservations and doubt in order to try and comfort him when he spoke of loneliness. Was all that a lie as well?

No. I can’t afford to think of the emotional side of it all, because if I do I may find myself incapable of moving from this spot. I don’t have time to reflect on it all, to try and unravel hopeful lies and manipulative truths. That can be done when I’m not here. If I stay here, he’ll know I know and he’ll stop me from...what? What am I supposed to do next? I could find someone with some level of power to warn.

“There you are.” Kirigan. I’m turned towards the window, not facing him, but there is no weariness or malice in his voice. He has no reason to suspect my suspicion. “Are you unwell?”

Calm. I need to pass as calm. Not turning, I force myself to ignore the endearing hint of concern in his voice. “No.” I can hear his measured footsteps. “Why would you think that?”

“I haven’t seen you all day,” he’s directly behind me now. If I turn, I’ll practically be against his chest. “And you didn’t come see me last night.”

Oh. I knew it was a mistake to begin to pull on such a small thread so close to when he expected to see me, but it kept gnawing on me. That doubt. That tiny thing I couldn’t ever let go off. “I fell asleep.” No--I cringe at my impulsive response. He knows how difficult it is for me to fall asleep. “Yesterday was just really...draining.”

In an easy movement, he places his hand on my shoulder. It’s a silent request for me to turn. Exhaling, I obey. Why? I could lie to myself and say that I’m listening to him in order to kill his suspicions, but the effect he has on me is undeniable. Even before touching each other became a casual thing on his part, my body wanted to react to him.

He’s quick to cup my face, tilting my chin up slightly so that I can’t avoid his gaze. “What troubles you, little dove?” A nickname for when he’s feeling particularly gentle. Thoughts of the evil he has to be twist my stomach as my face flushes. Kirigan’s thumb brushes over the corner of my bottom lip, stalling as I fight the urge to melt into the contact. I meet his tense gaze cautiously. “You said nothing could make you look at me differently.” No. There’s no way he figured out my change with one look alone. I’ll deny it. I’ll do what I need to do to be convincing, and then I’ll manage to escape. His grip on my shoulder tightens. “Don’t you dare lie to me again.”

The urge to snap and point out the sick irony of him telling me not to lie at him almost forces me to break. His gaze starts to shift away from me--towards the half packed escape bag I’d been in the middle of constructing. I stretch my arms forward, desperate to keep his gaze on me and away from what I can’t explain.

Kirigan’s free hand moves to pull my hand off of his cheek, but he pauses, eyes shutting in peaceful contentment. “What do you know?”

I expected his words to be angry, to border on violent...but he just sounds tired. Please, Saints, let me be wrong. “Is there anything to know?” The only reaction I get is the slightest stall of his breathing. “You said you didn’t want to be alone anymo--”

“I don’t.” The harshness of his words almost coax a small flinch from me.

Swallowing back the knot in my stomach, I exhale slowly. “A part of not being alone is being honest.”

His eyes finally open. I don’t dare move as he moves my hand off of his cheek so that he can brush his lips against my knuckles. I suppress an embarrassing shudder. “You wouldn’t have stayed--if you knew you wouldn’t ha--”

No denial. I can’t--I can’t do this. “You know what the worst part is?” I can’t believe I’m about to say this. I can’t believe it’s true. “I might have.” Those words break something in me as I force myself away from him. The lack of contact leaves me more frozen than ever. “I might have! I might have been able to bear all the monstrous things you’ve done if you had just--”

“What?!” He meets my outburst with one of equal power. “You might have stayed regardless?” The way he scoffs leaves me feeling like a wandering child. “You might have still looked at me like I hung the stars in the sky instead of like I’m the darkness they fight against?” I stay silent as he steps forward, quick to hold my chin in place with his long fingers. “I couldn’t risk you on possibility.” Kirigan’s gaze is so intense, a part of me is surprised that shadows don’t come at me--drowning me in darkness and him. “And don’t think me foolish enough to believe that someone like you would understand that I have to do what I’m doing--”

“Have to?” No--how did I almost let him lure me back in so easily. I pull myself away, approaching my open wardrobe. “That’s not past tense.” He’s still--he’s still actively hurting people. Why had I been so stupidly naive to think that maybe this was all history? “I--I can’t do this.”

Each step towards the exit of the room chips away at a piece of my soul. “You’re not walking away from me,” his strong grip is on my arm in a sharp instinct, “I won’t--I can’t be alone again.”

I swallow back the lump of emotion in my throat. “You already are.”

His eyes are pleading, pools of frightened adoration. “No--no,” he steps towards me, not releasing his grip on my arm, “You’re hurt that I lied, but now I’ll never have to lie to you again.” I push against his grip. Kirigan doesn’t release me. “Y/n,” my name is a lament from his lips, “Please.”

My eyes round out as my heart leaps into my chest. “I used to think that you were only touched by the darkness, but now I’m not sure you can tell where the darkness ends and you begin.” His grip just barely falters. Maybe it’s acceptance.

I shift weakly, a softer attempt to escape. His grip tightens even more than before as he tugs me forward. The reminder of his physical strength leaves me frozen in shock. I can’t read his expression, but something about him has darkened. When I don’t pull away again, his thumb brushes up and down my forearm. The silkiness of his touch is warm temptation. I inhale slowly as he moves his other arm in order to touch my shoulder. The contact is almost shy.

“Kirigan,” my voice betrays me, breaking as his fingers trace down my collar, “What--what are you doing?”

He tilts his head, taking in the way his touch rids my body of fight. “Nothing, really.” His voice is low, supple in its assuredness. “You’re the only person who has ever seen me--and for you to leave me after that.”

“No,” I try to step back, but my body freezes as he toys with the collar of my dress, “What I saw--what I found out--that wasn’t you.”

“It’s who I have to make myself be,” he whispers, “I’m doing what needs to be done.”

“That logic can earn you a lot,” my words are careful, “But it cannot earn you me.”

His hand brushes past my neck, finding the root of my hair. Kirigan pulls on it slightly, forcing me to expose my lower jaw and neck. I’m still as he leans forward, warm breath fanning across my skin. I fight against a shiver in vain as his lips brush down my skin, only stopping as he nips the base of my neck. I can’t help the small sound of surprise that escapes me.

“Are you sure about that?” Blood rushes to my face, motivated by both embarrassment and something else. “Little dove, don’t ruin us.” His touch is warm, but his words leave me with an uncomfortable chill. In an attempt to escape the coldness, I half-press myself into the trail of soft and desperate kisses he’s leaving down my neck.

Kirigan pauses, exhaling slowly, and I feel some mental strength return to me. “There can’t be an us--not like this.”

“Y/n.” He never uses my name. “You are the only light I know.” His words steal something from me as he pulls away enough to look me in the eyes. “I can’t handle the weight of solitude anymore--it’s worse than the dark.”

I am unflinching, watching him with a markman’s care. Kirigan takes my silence as a positive. I don’t move as his gaze drops to my lips before he presses his own together. I don’t move as he destroys the distance between us like it’s some type of unbearable weight. His lips meet mine with enough force to bruise my face. The surprise of it gives him the chance to coax my lips into parting as his hands move to either side of my face. My body reacts without my permission, letting him deepen the kiss. Every time I find some kind of free will, Kirigan pushes it away with some kind of tactful lull of his tongue. Keeping his control, Kirigan ends the kiss by grazing sharp teeth against my bottom lip.

I’m left panting. “You’re--you lied, Kirigan--I--”

“You told me once you could never see me as a monster.”

“I said that to a version of you that technically doesn’t exist.”

The grief in my chest and desire in my stomach twist in a nauseating way. Kirigan’s eyes watch me patiently, a pain similar to my own reflected in them. “Who I am when I’m with you is less fictitious than any identity I’ve ever given myself.”

The vulnerability in his voice is as alluring and distracting as the kiss. I find myself thinking of the warmth of his mouth against my skin. He had kissed me like the cure for ancient solitude could come from me. I think he had a point, because now that he’s not touching me in that way I feel the familiar tugs of cold emptiness.

“I don’t understa--” My words are cut off by his lips brushing against mine.

His touch is soft, but it’s far from shy as he draws out the kiss. It’s an attempt to keep me on edge, to keep me wanting him enough to push past my doubts. “Y/n,” there’s a reverent quality to his voice, “I--” Kirigan grabs the collar of my dress, pulling me to him sharply. His kiss conveys things that neither of us truly understand. “Don’t go.”

I don’t want to. The realization is a cruel wave crashing against my chest. “You lie to everyone, you lie to me--you--you hurt and destroy and I--” One of his hands brushes against the hem of my dress. “What are you,” the words are supposed to be sharp, but my resolve melts as his hand presses firmly against my thigh, “Doing?”

“You know me,” he draws out each word as his fingers graze towards the inside of my thighs. The cool metal of his rings are practically ice against my flushed skin. “Little dove, trust me.”

My nails dig into my palms as I try to ignore what he’s doing. “I did and you betrayed me.”

“I couldn’t lose you,” he whispers, thumb inching up my inner thigh.

I press my lips together, fighting against a natural reaction. “You did lose me.”

Kirigan’s eyes darken as his grip on my thigh tightens. “We’ll move past this.” He’s both pleading and assured. “I think I know how to make it up to you.” He trails his hand up my thigh swiftly, stopping with his hand on my lower hip. Shamelessly, he toys with the hem of my underwear. “The only thing that’s really changed is that now I’m touching you like this.”

The only thing I can do is gape at him. He’s a villain, his hands are coated in unnecessarily spilled blood, and I am helpless against his slightest touch. I should try pushing him away or at the very least resist his blatant advantages. His fingers brush down my underwear, stopping at a growing wet spot. The knowing look he gives me burns my core. I try to keep my expression hard in a final form of protest, but when he presses his pointer finger against me all the resolve in me is shattered.

My eyebrows draw together as a small sound escapes me, “Kirigan.” I can’t tell if it’s praise or a warning.

He pauses, hand retracting slightly at my whining. “Y/n,” his other hand cups my cheek. I lean into the contact without permission from my body. “There is only one name that I have not given myself and only one name I want to hear you breathe like that.” His thumb traces my lips softly. I don’t move as he leans forward, turning his lips towards my ear.

“Aleksander.” His name is nothing more than a breath, a stolen heartbeat on his lips.

He presses his fingers against where I’m the weakest again. My hips grind forward instinctually, desperate for more contact as he kisses the top of my jaw.

“Aleksander.” The name escapes me in the form of a broken moan. Speaking it feels more intimate than the way he’s touching me.

There’s the slightest pause in his consuming actions. “Again,” he breathes, “Say my name again.” His request is so soft it feels like he’s more at my mercy than I am at his.

My eyes shut as his teeth graze my neck. “Aleksander.” At the sound of his name, his teeth brush against my skin harder than ever.

When he starts to pull away, I reach out desperately, grabbing his kefta. “I thought you wanted to leave, little dove.”

No. No. He is not going to get me to agree to stay by giving me something as intimate as his original name and by denying me his touch. “Please.”

He reaches for my hand, pulling it off of him cruelly. “Do you want to stay with me?”

I know which answer will get me what I really want, but I’m not sure which answer is true. Do I want to stay with him? Even after knowing what he’s done? “I don’t want to leave you.” The vulnerability of the statement cracks at my heart. He turns away from me in order to face the wall. I take a tentative step towards. “But I’m not sure what I want matters.”

In one quick motion, he’s yanking more forward and pressing me into the wall. “Of course desire matters,” his body is pressed against mine almost entirely, “It means something.” He brushes his knuckles against my cheek. “It means you could choose me.”

What could I say to that? I part my lips to speak but he silences me by pressing his lips against my jaw. I offer no protest as he starts touching me the way he did earlier. I’m more desperate now, more needy and okay with that. His fingers slip past my underwear testingly, hesitating before finally entering me slowly.

“Aleksander,” my voice is so needy I’m not sure it’s my own.

“I want you to say my name like that again,” he whispers, kissing down my collarbone as he begins to press his fingers in and out of me faster, “And I want you to say my name casually,” his pace doesn’t slow, even when I begin to let out indistinguishable whines, “And I want you to say my name while you’re falling asleep,” his touch becomes more aggressive as his words become more sincere, “And I want you to say my name every other way there is to say it.”

The bundle of nerves in the pit of my stomach grows until there’s nothing else for me to hold onto. I finish with a sharp gasp. The feeling of euphoria is only intensified as Aleksander begins to kiss up my jaw before finally pressing our lips together.

I break the kiss first, desperate to breathe. Have my legs been so shaky this entire time? Aleksander lets me recover, resting his head against my forehead. “I’m tired of being alone.”

I imagine all the foul acts he’s committed and all the bad he wants to bring. I picture all the innocent blood he’s spilled. I see all of it--every horror and dark deed he’s ever committed. But I cannot see me leaving him. Maybe that makes me a monster, maybe that makes me an idiot...but I can’t do it.

Slowly, I move to drape my arms over his back in a loose hug. “You’re not alone, Aleksander.” I’m not sure what that signifies, but I know it’s true. There has to be good in him. No one capable of such warmth can be pure evil. “I choose you.”

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mercy-burning · 4 years ago

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Your Favorite — Part 3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: As the summer comes to a close, Spencer and Y/N start feeling a shift in their relationship. Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Adults w/ age gap, thigh riding, exhibitionism, oral sex (male receiving), penetrative/unprotected sex, breeding kink, one line of daddy kink, Word Count: 4.3k exactly, love how that turned out lol

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | MASTERLIST

NOTE: Thank you all for sticking with me through this long wait, I feel so bad for having to keep putting it off. But I’m very proud of where this ended up, and I’m so glad you’ve all been so excited about it! I had so much fun writing this story, so again, thank you very much for reading and indulging me in this weird fantasy lolol ❤ Love you guys! And, as always, thank you to the lovely Em ( @boldlyvoid ) for being my beta for this series! Your feedback and support has been a big help from the start, ILY

———

AUGUST 12th

"I don't wanna hear a single word, understand?"

Not like I have a choice; As soon as the harsh whisper leaves Spencer's mouth, his hand is covering my own and my back is being pressed up against the wall of the storage closet.

But that's all he does. I wait for him to make a move, but instead he insists on being a tease.

"What? You've been trying to get my attention all night, and now that you have it, you're not gonna do anything with it?"

"I want you to do it for me," I mumble into his hand.

He shoves me harder into the wall and slots his knee in between my legs, spreading them apart and making me sigh.

"You wanted it so bad... So take it..."

Watching the amusement dance through his features as I grind down on his leg and whine into his mouth only excites me more, right next to the knowledge that downstairs the house is congested with people visiting to celebrate my mom's new promotion at work.

Needless to say, it doesn't take me very long to start feeling my stomach tense. My hips are wild as they roll over his leg, whines spewing from my mouth and into his hand. I look up into his eyes, doing my best to show him how much I could never grow tired of this, and he returns the favor by lifting his leg higher and giving me more friction.

In no time at all, I'm shuddering against him, feeling his hand press harder into my mouth to muffle the high-pitched whines that I can't help but expel.

"Nice and quick... Good girl..." Spencer muses, slowly peeling himself away from me. "You're really looking forward to being spoiled later, aren't you..."

The grin that spreads over my face is unwavering. "Definitely. Knowing Mom, she'll be passed out cold in like an hour."

I know I'm the one who brought her up, but it still stings a little when Spencer smiles fondly. "Yeah, she's a lightweight alright... You sure you can handle all this time without me until then?"

Despite the butterflies I get when he says it, mischievous and downright delectable, his hands reach out to grab my waist and pull me closer to him, I roll my eyes. "You underestimate me."

He studies my face for a moment, a pretty smile flashing before me in the dim light before he kisses my cheek. "Sure."

And when he leaves, I wait.

Minutes later, my skin still burns from his touch.

———

The moment my eyes open the next morning, it all comes back in flashes.

His lips are on my skin, travelling lower and lower...

His hands trail all over my body, featherlight in a way that leaves me with goosebumps.

His tongue starts slow, taking its time to taste me and savor every precious second.

His voice is like the sweetest prayer, whispering praises that leave my head dizzy and my heart pounding.

His lips languidly open and close around the most sensitive parts of my body, in tandem with that sweet, magnificent tongue as each action pulls sighs from the very depths of my soul.

His hands reach up and tangle with mine as he makes me come on his tongue, over and over again until I'm practically numb and the lull of sleep drags me under.

His hands now ghost over my bare skin, along my sides and down to my waist. I hum happily and push back against him when I feel it.

He's hard.

"How long before you think she wakes up?" he whispers in my ear.

"Not long... Maybe we... shouldn't risk i—"

The words fall off a cliff, never to be seen again when he slowly enters me, gripping my leg and forcing it over his own. "I'll be quick."

I can tell, though, that he doesn't want to be. It's present in the way he enters me, over and over with motions that feel rather stunted and definitely too rushed.

"Baby, no," I whine, reaching behind me to hold his hips still with one hand. "Fuck me slow... Don't rush..."

"But... Your mom..."

"Please..."

Spencer sighs, though not from exasperation. No, his breath is long and teeming with relief, hands gently roaming over the entirety of my body as his hips move slower. He's taking his time, relishing every second and feeling me gradually get more slick at his undoing.

His lips are on my neck, not providing marks to match the ones hidden on the inside of my thighs and my chest, but merely resting there. He kisses me in between gentle thrusts, letting out small whimpers of his own when I clench tightly around him.

This...

This is different.

We've had slow morning sex before, but never like this. Somehow, I find myself drifting, like I'm being carried away by his current. There's nothing but me, Spencer, and our breathing... Our bodies, our air, our souls...

This is what I imagine making love feels like.

Which is why I barely notice when it slips from my mouth— Three words that should feel more daunting due to the weight they hold and the way they ultimately change everything. And yet, whispering “I love you,” in a nearly breathless string of syllables feels incredibly natural. It’s more sincere than anything I think I’ve ever told him, so much so that I don’t even think about what it will mean in the long-run. Instead I let it fall from my lips again and again without regret or consequence.

He doesn't stop, either. Spencer continues to fuck me softly, like it's all he knows how to do. In fact, my confession only seems to make him relax more.

And that's what finally pushes me over the edge.

His name escapes my mouth in a whisper that sounds more like a plea not to leave, and he holds me closer to him. Our bodies are flush together, my back resting perfectly against his chest as he takes a few final thrusts and empties himself inside of me.

If we stayed like that forever, I could die happy.

And actually, that wouldn't be far from the truth, given that if we did stay here forever, my mom would certainly find us and kill us.

The thought makes me sigh.

"You have to leave..."

"I know..."

Spencer pulls me closer, squeezing me tight and giving me a long, bold kiss on the jaw before he rips himself away and takes my heart with him.

AUGUST 18th

Things are significantly different now.

After the morning I let slip that I love him, Spencer and I had been intimate once. We found ourselves alone while Mom was at the grocery store and instinctually came together.

It was quick, and it was fast and rough, and while it obviously felt good, something was off. But I knew it wasn't a physical problem. Like I said, it felt as good as any other time we'd been together, but it just wasn't right.

I hate it.

It hasn't even been a week since then, and I miss him. I miss our dynamic, and I miss the way I used to feel when he touched me.

So I stalk into the office and lean against the doorframe, watching Spencer as he goes through a large pile of paperwork. His hands and his eyes are moving at near light-speed, and the way he concentrates almost makes me feel bad for my intrusion—Honestly, I could have looked at him all damn day.

But there's a bigger plan in mind.

"What'cha up to?"

He looks up and greets me with a smile. "School starts in a few weeks. I'm just trying to get my coursework prepared."

"Oh... You... mind if I keep you company?"

"Not at all."

It's an innocent enough exchange, though I'm hoping I can change that. Mom doesn't get off work for another few hours, so it gives me ample time to do what I have planned.

I walk over and nudge his leg with my knee, and he lets me in. I climb on his lap, and after giving me a brief kiss on the cheek he returns to going through his paperwork.

My face turns and I nestle it into his neck. He hums softly when I kiss the skin under his jaw, once, and then twice, and then over and over in quick succession.

I can feel him smile. "What are you up to, princess?"

Hearing the nickname return in earnest makes me smile. I nip softly at his neck and run my tongue along it. "Mmm, trouble."

"Sounds like you," he mutters through a sultry sigh once I start going lower, kissing the top of his shoulder.

I slide my hands up the front of his chest and gently undo the top button, giving me access to more skin. "You love it when I make trouble..."

"Hmm, I'm not sure about that."

I slide off his lap then, crouching between his legs and looking up at him with a smile. "Really?"

All he does is look down at me, his pupils growing bigger by the second. So I continue my venture, sliding my hands up the insides of his legs until I reach the belt. "So you don't love when I do this?"

Spencer sighs, helping me by lifting his hips a little and letting me slide down layers of fabric until his dick is right in front of me.

I don't waste any time, taking him in my hand and bringing him to my mouth. He's still not entirely hard yet, but I don't mind at all. In fact, I let out a happy sigh just before I press kiss after kiss along the entire length of him. From base to tip, I take my time kissing and licking along the salty skin and giving him my full attention. I pull back and admire him, I smile, I kiss and I lick and I squeeze him with my hand... And when he's finally nice and hard, I take the head of his cock in my mouth and suck gently.

"Y/N..."

I hum around him, sinking further down until he hits the back of my throat, and then I come back up and repeat. It's slow. Maybe torturous even, but really I don't mean it to be.

Thankfully Spencer seems to be happy with my speed and technique; His eyes are on the verge of closing and his chest is heaving slowly, fingers gently caressing the sides of my face as I go down on him.

It's this same slow, steadying pace we'd taken before, and it's exactly what we needed.

I can feel his touch on my face, burning into my skin and marking me for all eternity. Likewise, the thick, throbbing weight of his cock sliding over my tongue and down my throat feels just like home— Like it's right where we're meant to be.

Once again, we fit together perfectly.

This epiphany sets a fire deep in the pits of my stomach, and just like that our spark is back again.

I look up and catch his eye, and he lets me keep it, forcing himself to keep his eyelids open to watch me. My pace remains consistent and slow, and and he brings both of his hands under my chin. The way he holds my face is so gentle, so loving and sensual that I nearly burst with tears at the sentiment alone, and it doesn't take long for him to start letting go.

He stutters my name when he comes, still using the pads of his nimble fingers to caress my throat. I take in and swallow each rope of cum until it's gone, and even then I keep him in my mouth, gently bobbing my head up and down just for the sake of feeling him inside me somehow.

But then he lifts me off of him and his dick falls limp in his lap. I sigh and lean down, kissing it a few times before just resting my head in his lap as he strokes my hair.

"You're right," Spencer says after a few moments.

"About what?"

"I do love when you make trouble."

We laugh, and I lift my head to look up at him.

"I know... It's your favorite."

"That it is, princess."

AUGUST 26th

I wish more than anything that this orientation would just end. My left foot is anxiously tapping the cool white tile of the floor as I wait to be next in line to grab my paperwork and get on my way— To home for what I'm sure will be a long weekend trying to find free minutes to steal with Spencer.

In another life it might have gotten tedious and painful sneaking around for so long, but I found it excited me. Sure, my feelings for Spencer were growing at an exponential rate, but ever since I visited him in our home office, we seemed to be getting back our groove— With an added flair I might add...

Each time we were together was more intense than the last. His hands got more possessive, his kisses got deeper and more passionate, and the way he looked at me?

I could swear I felt him falling just as deep as I was.

The smile it all brought to my face in that moment fell a little short when they called me next in line, and I fell into a joyful step forward to collect my things.

When I get home, though, things aren't as joyful.

The first thing I notice is that Spencer's car isn't in the driveway or even on the street. He's usually here on weekends, so I wonder if he's out for something, or even out with my mom on a lunch date or something.

I try not to think about that thought too much and step inside, hoping to at least enjoy the silence for a little while, lest they really are out together.

I think I'm out of the woods when I hear the television, a laugh track of some kind, but then it turns into the Friends theme blaring through the speakers, and my heart nearly falls into the pit of my stomach.

There's only one reason Mom would be watching Friends. She swears up and down that she hates it, but it always ends up on TV when there's one specific thing she's going through, because "Hearing them complain about their stupid problems make me feel better about my own!"

Her own problem being a breakup.

For a moment I wonder if maybe Spencer had told her about us. Or maybe she found something somehow that would give us away. I make my way slowly through the space until I reach the living room, my brain making up every possible horrendous outcome— Not even to prepare for the blow, because I know that absolutely nothing could prepare me for the wrath of my mother in any situation... I simply can't help myself from feeling guilty and heartbroken as my stomach churns and my heart beats so loud I can barely hear the TV anymore.

When I come into her view, Mom freezes and lets out a large breath of shaky air. The small tub of ice cream in her hands shakes just as much, and I can tell she's trying her hardest not to burst into tears.

I've never seen her this upset before. Normally it's just anger and annoyance, but this time she looks utterly broken.

"M—Mom?" I stutter, even though she probably can't even hear what I'm saying over the TV. I still don't know if she knows about my involvement with Spencer, but I feel like she'd be more angry with me than sad, so I figure it's safe to come closer.

The moment I take a step forward, she sets the ice cream on the floor and opens her arms to me, a choked sob forcing its way out. It almost makes me cry, just seeing her this heartbroken, and in an instant I'm running to her and snuggling into her side as she hugs me.

"What happened?" I will myself to ask, even though I still have no idea what it means for me. Maybe that's selfish, but if he's taking himself out of Mom's life, surely that has to mean he's removing himself from mine as well, right? And if he's just leaving without saying anything... God, that would ruin me, too.

Still, I wait to hear what Mom will say.

"He broke up with me," is all she says, through a long and tired sigh. She mutes the TV and then holds me tighter. I can feel that there's pure sadness controlling her every movement, and it crushes me.

"Why?"

"I don't know, he just... He said he didn't love me, and he wasn't feeling it anymore."

"That's all?"

"Uh huh... It was so sudden, too, like... I thought we were really getting along, and I just... I don't understand how he couldn't feel it... I felt all of it, and he just... He felt nothing. How could he feel nothing?"

I really don't know what to say anymore... It seems to me like Spencer really told her the truth and ended their relationship because he didn't feel anything for her anymore, but... I always knew he had to have felt something... I guess I just didn't realize someone could fall out of it so quickly.

The guilt overwhelms me then, when it dawns on me that I made him fall out of it so fast. I was there, taking up small moments of his time until, eventually, I'd taken up so much of it that it wasn't just his time I was stealing, but also his love. His fire, and his passion... Month by month, day by day, I was draining the love he had for my mom and distilling it to meet my own desires.

And now, here I am, in my mothers arms as she weeps over a man she truly loved, all because he and I were selfish and treasonous.

If Spencer decides he still wants to be with me after this, I really don't know if I could do it. Even after all this time... After all this trouble and guilt and glorious treason...

He could never really be mine.

———

Y/N,

I knew this day would come from the moment I met you. Of course, I didn't know how far my feelings would take me, but in the end I knew I would one day have to leave you and your mother behind.

Day by day my feelings for you grew stronger, and it wasn't until you told me you loved me that August Thirteenth that I realized I loved you, too. What we had was always dangerous, but by then my heart was focused solely on you, and I could feel your mother slipping from my grasp.

I pretended for as long as I could, but now you've taken up so much space in my brain that when Eve pulled me near, I almost sighed out your name instead. I knew then that no longer could I "keep up appearances," as I often like to tell you.

Maybe one day you and I can find our way back to each other, but for now, I think it's for the very best that we go our separate ways.

In my wildest dreams I will think of you fondly, and I can only hope that you might do the same.

Always Yours, Spencer

JUNE 19th, SEVEN YEARS LATER

There are so many things I'm thinking about when I come home tonight.

One: I'm a little tipsy and completely fucked out, which reminds me of that night I came home in the exact same state, only to find my mom's old boyfriend, Spencer, unable to sleep and to stop staring at my bare legs. The memory brings a smile to my face.

Two: My feet fucking hurt and I want to get these goddamned shoes off.

Three: The ghost of Spencer's smile when he saw me for the first time in seven years burns in the back of my mind, right next to the ghost of his hands caressing my skin like it had been the first time.

Four: How am I going to spend the rest of the summer back in town knowing what it feels like to have fucked him at all without an ounce of guilt attached to it?

Five: Am I going to tell my mom that I slept with her ex-boyfriend tonight?

Six: Fuck, I'm hungry...

My heels come off as soon as I step through the door.

The light is on, and I can hear Mom laughing in the kitchen with Adam from far away, which brings a fond smile to my face. I'm glad that she's finally happy, with someone who doesn't make me want to fall to my knees, thank you very much.

And truthfully, if I hadn't ran into Spencer at all tonight, I'm not sure I ever would have thought about that whole situation again— It was fucked up, he ended up leaving both of us, and Mom was so deeply devastated after their breakup that I didn't have the heart to tell her I missed him too. I just buried it deep down and tried to move on right alongside her, eventually erasing his memory from my mind, body, and soul.

Well, almost.

There were days, obviously, where his letter hummed inside my pillowcase where he left it, whether I brought it to college or kept it at home, or it sat soundly in my new apartment. His words were always there, spilling into my dreams and dancing with me through our memories; tangled tongues and limbs, wild nights and passionate mornings...

I'd wake up feeling hot to the touch and missing him completely.

Thankfully those days were few and far in between, and for a while I'd stopped thinking of him altogether.

But of course, it turns out that Spencer Reid is in fact, pretty damn inevitable.

That bar downtown was packed, so it was a wonder I'd even ran into him of all people in the first place. What he was doing there I didn't know. And neither do I now, because from the moment we laid eyes on each other, it was this constant state of shell-shock and fire, nothing else. He asked briefly about Mom, I told him she'd been married for four years, and then he joked about how he was surprised I hadn't tried to steal him from her.

Naturally, with that ever so playful look in his eye practically taunting me, I played to his joke and responded with a sultry smile, "The only one I ever wanted to steal was you, Doctor..."

The rest wasn't exactly a blur, but all I'm going to say is that we spent the rest of our time together at his apartment, "catching up on lost time"... And as much as I'd grown out of the submissive role sexually over the years, I found myself crawling back, submitting to him like I'd done it a million times over. And, really, I might as well have.

It's like we'd never stopped.

That being said, I declined his offer to stay the night and told him to give me a call some time before I left to go back to Seattle. Though, not without giving him a thousand goodbye kisses that were rather counterproductive.

Thinking about it makes my cheeks burn hot, though thankfully it's summer, and Mom won't have to question it. Though, if she does, I suppose I could keep it short and sweet and tell her the truth at the very least: that I met up with an old friend who showed me a good time.

"Hey'a, Sweetpea," she greets with a bright wave. She and Adam are obviously a little tipsy, more than me by the looks of it, but I pay it no mind. "How was you're night?"

"Great! Went to a few bars downtown, met up with some friends..."

"Oh, good, well we're glad you got back safe."

I snag a bottle of water and an apple from the fridge, then turn back around to see Mom and Adam snuggled in, sharing a smile that would make even the happiest person on the planet sick to their stomach.

Oddly enough, it reminds me of back then, when she was with Spencer, happier than ever and completely oblivious to what was going on in her daughter's life.

The thought makes my stomach flutter, taking me back to earlier in the night when he had his hands tangled in my hair and his mouth attached to my skin, spewing filthy words and praises that had me begging for more...

"I missed you, princess," he whispers, holding himself deep inside me. His fingers brush the matted hair from my face, revealing more of my saccharine smile and eyes that swim with mischief.

"I missed you too," I whine, reaching out and grabbing handfuls of his ass, shoving him even farther inside me and wrapping my legs around him tighter. "...Daddy..."

Spencer loses all semblance of cool, pulling back and slamming into me with full force. I—

"Y/N?"

I blink away his memory, reminding myself of where I am and what I'm doing, finding Mom looking at me with a curious gleam in her eye.

"What are you thinking about?"

With a small smile, I nod in her direction. "Oh, uh... You'll never believe who I ran into tonight."

———

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#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut

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chokiipng · 4 years ago

Text

Hay fever : Genshin various

a/n : suffering from seasonal allergies isn't fun . so instead of trying to do school work, i'm gonna write hcs to make myself feel better

character(s) : Xiao, Diluc, Kaeya, Albedo, Childe contents : fluff with a bit of crack (my specialty) + : reader has really bad seasonal allergies

Xiao :

he doesn't really understand tbh

he plays it off as a common cold at first and entrusts you with Verr, much to her annoyance. he didn't realize the true severity of the situation until a week had passed.

he's heard of seasonal allergies before, so it's not like he was entirely clueless, he just didn't know how to go about treating it.

because of this, he turned into a big ball of concern for the entirety of spring

he asked everyone he could for help, even that ginger haired harbinger (to which he had no clue since he basically lives on an iceberg)

this also happened to peek Zhongli's interest, who then took him to Bubu pharmacy to learn more. it took Xiao about 5 different interrogations to actually visit Bubu, he cursed himself internally for not checking there in the first place

of course, Baizhu laughed it off and informed the both of them on how allergies work, how they're triggered, and how to prevent/soothe them

if you sneezed/sniffled, he was immediately by your side with a tissue and some water. itchy eyes, he had a small bottle of eyedrops for you courtesy of Dr. Baizhu and Qiqi

it was amusing to say the least, watching a feared Yaksha running around frantically in order to soothe your allergies

of course, he soon picked up that it was because you went outside every goddamn day to complete commissions and to pick flowers for who knows who (Qiqi, you often found yourself picking herbs with her because who could say no to that face?)

he legit locked you in your room at Wangshuu Inn and did your commissions for you. he didn't want you in any pain, so he stayed with you when he finished all of his tasks

he didn't isolate you though, but if he takes you out he makes sure you take your allergy medicine (given by Qiqi, ty bby) and that you have a mask on

Diluc :

he never really experienced hay fever, but he knows the gist of it

he's heard stories of it from customers of the Angel's Share and was immensely grateful to the Archons for blessing him with immunity to seasonal allergies

but he wasn't prepared to catch you practically sneezing your guts out one morning

Diluc drops everything, much to Adelinde's horror, and orders for a box of tissues and water immediately. he whips out the blankets from under the couch that he knew you hid and props you on some pillows he fluffed in a panicked rush

the maids watch with a nervous chuckle as he runs around the mansion, completely forgetting about his shift at the Angel's Share and his nightly heroic duties

as soon as he calms down from the initial shock of how hard allergies hit you, he asks you how your feeling and if he can do anything

the next day he asks Donna (who stutters at his mere presence), who mind you is an employee at the Floral Whisper, since Flora isn't there herself about hay fever. he figured that people who worked at a flower shop would know about allergies caused by the pollen produced by flowers

he brings back medicine that you've been instructed to take daily as to lessen the affects of your allergies

despite his day duties, he offers to take up your daily commissions during the days you are physically unable to do them or just does them of his own volition

he trusts that the maids will take care of you in his stead

in the mean time, you're allowed to roam the city as you wish, but that's about it. he threatened Lawrence and Swan that they would feel the wrath of retribution if you stepped foot outside the city

Mondstadt was a land of eternal springtime, there was no way in hell he was letting you out of the city without his supervision

while all of this may be a bit much, he makes sure to let you know that this is just him caring for you. he doesn't want to seem overbearing and trusts that you know what's happening to your body and how to treat it

Kaeya :

he laughs at your demise

what did you expect ?

but he really is worrying on the inside

he makes sure to check in with Barbara just to make sure that you're not suffering from a lethal disease

once he knows that they're just seasonal allergies, (almost) all his worries subside and he sighs of relief

he notifies Jean beforehand (but sometimes forgets), he works considerably less during the time of your allergies since he doesn't really trust anyone else to take care of you

he also doesn't drink as much, surprising, he knows

he refrains from bringing you flowers as he usually does and instead spoils you with unnecessary affection

Kaeya doesn't worry as much since he puts faith in you that you know what's going on in your body. since they're seasonal allergies, he realizes that you must've gone through this before and know how to treat it

since you can't really cure it, you just act more cautious in the outdoors

he often accompanies you on your daily commissions and such, just to be sure that your okay. he takes over the moment you pause to sneeze or itch your nose even once

aside from this, he's the other reason why your allergies are unbearable

once they're all done and over, he teases you relentlessly about how reliant you were on him when in reality it was him doing your tasks of his own volition rather than you asking him. you told him several times that you could handle it, but he persisted nonetheless

he's more reasonable during your hay fever, and despite his unnecessary comments, you find it endearing

Albedo :

he is among the few men who are actually calm during the situation, but since when is he not?

he probably already has a remedy for you that greatly lessens the affect of your allergies

but even without it, he trusts that you know how to handle it

the only factor in here that would cause chaos-

is Klee

once Klee hears you sneeze all hell breaks loose in Albedo's workspace

she runs around everywhere looking for tissues and then ends up bringing Mondstadt's entire supply, which you and Albedo laugh nervously at

once Klee calms down, you explain the bare minimum of hay fever, which she manages to understand

while he has faith that you can treat it yourself, Albedo still recommends that you stay inside more rather than going out exploring and looking for chests, to which you sheepishly comply

Jean cannot thank you enough when it comes to Klee's behavior during this season, as Klee tends to spend more time at home with you and Albedo once you finish your commissions so that "you don't feel lonely!"

she even drew you a picture to show how much she cared!

if you can't sleep at night because of your allergies, Albedo (who is probably still up working) will gladly allow you to indulge in his studies or to just simply read with you until you fall asleep

he too is also happy that you managed to tame Klee

Childe :

this man has no idea what the fuck hay fever is

need I remind you that he grew up in the land of perpetual winter, hay fever doesn't even exist to him. unlike everyone else, he hasn't even heard of the concept

so when you hold a finger up during your weekly sparring, he pauses with a curious tilt of his head

he screams in horror as you sneeze out all of your bodily fluids not once, not twice, but three times

Childe calls off the spar and cradles you in your arms as if you're about to die

it's until he rushes you to Baizhu in a panicked frenzy that he realizes that its...a fever?

now Baizhu is a patient man, he had to raise a zombie child who basically loses her memory each time she wakes up and wields a sword/cryo abilities

but he was getting tired of Childe's endless questions quick.

Childe shrieks as the normally passive pharmacist slams his hands down on the counter with a sickeningly sweet smile

he ceases in his questions, apologizes for bothering him, and races back to the Northland Bank in a cold sweat

it takes you explaining it in a calm voice for him to finally understand it

and he takes this very seriously

while he knows that it's seasonal and that you've gone through it before, he can't help but worry for you

he coddles you, and he doesn't relent even if you tell him

he slaps a mask on you, takes away your fighting privileges, and even order his subordinates to keep an eye on you at all times

that is if he's not already

he clings

he's attached to you

he just wants you to feel better, and you appreciate it, but it can get a little too much sometimes

and while you do tell him this, the same situation happens every year when spring comes around and there's nothing you can do to stop it. Baizhu can't catch a break from the rowdy harbinger

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thorfemmes · 5 years ago

Text

Cloudy

in which harry hates summer storms, but she loves them.

Hi everyone! I know I’m not really a fan account, so please feel free to skip over this post if you don’t want to read fanfic! I’ve decided to take part in @helladirections ‘s Summer Feeling writing challenge, and this is what I came up with! Feedback is greatly appreciated, I’m trying to hype myself up into writing again. Also thank you @jasline-arod for being my beta reader, I love you endlessly!<3

Prompts: summer reading & ice cream

Rated 18+: fluff, SMUT, soft dom!harry, teasing, edging, punishment, impact play, light bondage, condescension kink if you squint, cute aftercare!!!

Word Count: 3.8k

Summer storms were quite melancholy.

Harry supposed he was being a bit dramatic, considering (y/n) loved the rain. If it weren’t for the possibility of getting a cold and the wandering eyes from their surrounding neighbors she would be out dancing and skipping around the backyard in the puddles and mud. But alas, their neighbors were a bit too nosy and she couldn’t afford any sick time off at work right now, so she was using this day to clean the house. Some last minute spring cleaning as she called it.

Harry, on the other hand, wanted nothing more than to roll around in the sheets all day with her. The young couple had planned a nice date out for the day: a stroll around the neighborhood, a picnic in the park, maybe some window shopping in the plaza. Their car was currently in the shop so anything they wanted to do would have to be within walking distance -(y/n) really didn’t like Ubering around. Mother Nature apparently had other plans.

Which leads us here. Harry had seen the storm die down and in all of his stubborn brilliance had insisted on making an ice cream run. ‘S just a little drizzle! He maintained. I’ll be back before you know it, Poppet. It turns out “a little drizzle” can easily turn into torrential downpour in the twenty minutes it takes Harry to bike to and from the grocery store. He couldn’t believe his luck, and now as he approached his front door sopping wet and dragging his bike up the steps, he was silently cursing himself for deciding Ben and Jerry’s was worth the trek.

“Babe? Is everything alright?” (Y/n) proffered over the soft music she had put on when he left. She could hear his frustrated grumbles and sighs from the living room and had of course seen the storm pick up.

“ ‘M fine, sweetheart, just a bit wet ‘s all.” Harry griped from the kitchen. He quickly dried off the pints of ice cream and stuck them in the freezer before pouring a bowl of uncooked rice for his cell phone. Flicking off the lights in the kitchen, spotless and dust-free thanks to (y/n), he walked into the living room to find her tucked into the corner of the couch reading a book.

Peering over the pages, her eyes softly danced over her lover -damp and frumpy from the rain outside. He had a slight pout on his face that made her giggle playfully, eyes glittering with nothing but adoration and humor.

“My strong love, fought the rain and thunder just to get his girlfriend ice cream.”

He snorted at her, trying his hardest to hold back a smile. “Think I deserve a prize, don’t you think? It was quite brave of me to go out there, I could’ve gotten swept away by the flood of puddles!”

Her laugh rang like a chime. It was times like this, soft and quiet and domestic, that made his heart skip a beat. She made him delirious and dizzy with love.

“Of course, my love. Your prize is in the bathroom, hanging from the towel rack. I saw the rain pick up and figured you might come home a bit soggy,” She said with a laugh. “Go get changed, when you come back we can lounge about and read together.”

Harry’s heart fluttered as he shuffled out of the living room. When he came back, now changed into a crisp crew neck shirt and some washed worn sweats, he quickly popped over in front of his love. She looked up from the novel in front of her, stars in her eyes. Harry quickly leaned down and showered her in kisses. Anywhere he could reach was covered in smooches. She wiggled and whined playfully as he threw his leg over her waist, but not before grabbing the book and laying it on the coffee table face down. They grappled and playfully dodged kisses until she cried “Alright! Fine you win!” with a ridiculous pout and her hands pinned to the couch under Harry’s grasp.

“You’re so mean,” she pouted through puffs of air.

“Mean ‘m I? Would a mean boyfriend have gone out in the harsh winter storm for-”

“It’s the middle of July!”

“For pints of Chunky Monkey, Phish Food, Karamel Sutra, and Tonight Dough? I don’t think tha’s very mean, d’you?”

Harry swore the sigh she let out sounded harmonious. “No, I suppose not. It sounds like you’re spoiling me, huh?” She tried to loosen his grip again. “Let me up, please?”

He grinned down at her. “Kissy first?”

She leaned up the best she could for a smooch before he let her get back up. Harry laid down on the couch and patted his tummy with the hand not resting under his neck.

“C’mere, let’s read.”

(Y/n) crawled between Harry’s legs and laid between them, her head resting on his soft stomach. “Mm, nice and comfy.”

Harry chuckled with her, loving the warmth and comfort the weight of her gave him. He wrapped an arm around the front of her chest and softly rubbed his thumb over her shoulder.

“Do you want me to start the chapter over?” She asked, perfectly content to reread for him.

“Course not, Petal! Just pick up where you left off, please.”

“ ‘I’m going to America. To seek my fortune.’ (This was just after America but long after fortunes.) ‘A ship sails soon from London. There is great opportunity in America. I’m going to take advantage of it. I’ve been training myself. In my hovel. I’ve taught myself not to need sleep. A few hours only. I’ll take a ten-hour-a-day job and then I’ll take another ten-hour-a-day job and I’ll save every penny from both except what I need to eat to keep strong, and when I have enough I’ll buy a farm and build a house and make a bed big enough for two.’ ”

Harry began to lose focus on the story, instead concentrating on his petal’s voice, soft and clear enough for just the two of them. Almost as if the bubble around them might burst if she spoke too loudly. She began to alter her voice, adding in dashes of accents and key changes as the characters varied. Harry let a heavy breath fall from his nose as he smiled and bit his lip with a smile.

“ ‘Do you love me, Westley? Is that it?’ ”

Harry held his breath.

“ He couldn’t believe it. ‘Do I love you? My God, if your love were a grain of sand, mine would be a universe of beaches. If your love were-’ ”

Now, Harry knows he has a very specific taste in literature. And while he may personally prefer obscene prose and Joan Didion, this line -from a novel built on fantasies -was embroidered on his heart in bright yellow thread. The millions of grains of sand could not even begin to embody how dearly and how fiercely he loved her. His heart physically ached at the thought of her; her presence, her laugh, smile, ambition, everything. He loved (y/n) in a way he never imagined possible. Harry could not even begin to fathom a world without her. And if the little velvet box hidden in an old shoe box behind a ton of winter coats in the upstairs closet was anything to go by, he didn’t want to begin imagining it.

“Lovey, are you okay?” (Y/n) spoke up. She noticed him stiffen up immediately after she finished reading that paragraph.

Silence followed her question. She stuck the loose playing card she had found into the book to mark her place and gently sat up to shift herself in his lap, setting the book down on the coffee table again. Harry was pulled from his thoughts of navy blue suits and white lace gowns when she softly called his name again and stroked his cheeks with her thumbs.

“Is everything alright Harry? You zoned out for quite a while there.”

Harry looked at the heavenly sight in front of him. Her hair was a bit mussed up from the cleaning and the sweat that had no doubt appeared in the slightly humid house. She sat in an old cropped cotton shirt that proudly touted a faded improv club logo from college on it (she had gone to one meeting and of course it was the meeting where they gave out free t-shirts) with wrinkles and dried stains from cleaning spray. Her gray pajama shorts had little line drawings of bumble bees on them, and were currently riding up her thighs as they sat straddling Harry’s hips. He dragged his eyes to look at her face. He swore she was glowing in the grayish sunlight streaming from the windows. Little moles and freckles and acne scars dotted across her makeup-less face. Her eyes were wide and her lips were gaped open slightly in worry as his silence continued.

Harry finally, finally took in a breath (he desperately needed it, he didn’t realize she had literally stolen his breath away) and mumbled “ ‘M fine, petal. I just love you so much,” and with that closed the all too wide gap between them.

Her eyes widened just a bit more before kissing back, her eyes fell closed and her hands held tightly to his cheeks. Harry swore the kiss was meant to be gentle, but then he found himself nibbling on her bottom lip and soothing the slight sting with his tongue when she whined against him. She pulled away breathlessly and looked over his face, now flushed crimson with their movements.

“I love you too!” She breathily laughed. “Let’s-”

Her thoughts were lost as Harry began to kiss a trail from below her ear and down her neck, one hand squeezing her soft hip and the other holding her head in place as she squirmed (she was a bit ticklish). He sucked and softly bit at the junction between her neck and shoulder as she let out a faint moan at the attention being given to the sensitive skin. She ran her fingers through his loose curls and gently led his head back up to meet her lips. She tenderly rolled her hips against his -his hands quickly following the motion.

“Ah, fuck baby. You’re so fuckin’ sexy m’love,” Harry groaned against her lips. They were breathing in each other's air, hips thrusting against the other and hands grasping at fabric and anywhere they could grab. Harry lowered his hand to cup her hot pussy over her shorts, rubbing his palms against her clothed clit.

“Mmf, please Harry please!” She wanted him so badly, she was this close to ripping his clothes off at the seams.

“What d’you want baby girl? Hmm? Ask me nicely ‘nd maybe I’ll give it to you.”

The air shifted between them. She knew he would give her whatever she wanted, but the power was now in his corner. She whined loudly and bucked her hips up as he teased the waistband of her shorts.

“Don’t be a brat, petal. You won’t like the outcome.” Harry grinned up at her, running his thumb over her bottom lip that had stuck out with a pout. “Why don’t we run upstairs so I can fuck you properly. Tha’ is unless you want to stay down here with a sore bum ‘nd nothin’ else? Hmm, petal?”

“Harry, I swear if you don’t do something I’m going to screa- ah!” Harry’s hand came down on her ass with a loud smack!

(Y/n)’s eyes widened as she scrambled off of his lap and up the stairs to their “guest” bedroom, Harry not far behind. Harry giggled at her antics. Of course he wasn’t planning on leaving her needy and wanting, but she was being bratty and he couldn’t have that now could he?

(Y/n) all but threw herself onto their bed and ripped off her clothing, absolutely desperate for whatever Harry threw her way. She’d ride his thigh if that’s all he’d give her. She was that needy right now.

She scrambled up the bed and sat down with her legs crossed, patiently waiting as Harry stood at the foot of the bed.

“I think 10 swats on your bum are an appropriate punishment for you steppin’ out of line. Don’t you think, baby?”

“Yes, sir.” (Y/n) watched as he walked around the side of the bed. He reached into the bedside table and pulled out a bottle of shea butter lotion and the pretty pink ribbon she was all too familiar with.

“Lay down on your tummy, petal,” Harry said, setting everything on the table.

(Y/n) quickly laid down, grabbing her pillow and nestling her cheek into it. Harry grabbed one of the extra pillows and shoved it under her hips. He then pulled off the t-shirt and shrugged off his sweats, leaving him in a pair of heather gray briefs that left nothing to the imagination.

“You’ve such a pretty bum, sweetheart. ‘M so excited to see it marked up with my hand marks,” Harry caressed and massaged her cheeks carefully. “Count aloud for me, lovie.”

(Y/n) was about to answer when Harry’s hand came down on her left cheek, hard. “One!” She squeaked out.

“D’you know why you’re bein’ punished, lovie?” Smack!

“Ah! Two! Yes sir! I was being bad earlier. I was being naughty and begging without saying please!”

Harry rubbed over the sore area. “Very good, baby. Are you going to do it again?” Smack! Smack! Smack! Three spanks came in succession.

“Three! Fou-, Four! Five! No, Sir! I won’t!” She squirmed and hid her face in the pillow as her grip tightened on the material. She was a bit embarrassed at the fact that she was already getting teary eyed, but it had been a second since she'd been punished like this.

Harry paused and moved her hair out from around her face. “How are you doin’ (Y/n)? Gimme a color, please.”

“Green, Harry. I’m good, please keep going.” She wiggled and lifted her ass up towards Harry's other hand.

“Okay, lovie. Just makin’ sure.” Harry quickly kissed her cheek then pushed her head back into the pillow. She moaned loudly at the forcefulness.

The rest of the spanks came and went, leaving both of them breathless and stinging. Harry reached up and grabbed (Y/n) by the hair to pull her on all fours, his other hand removing the pillow from under her hips before running his fingers over her pussy.

“Y’not gonna do tha’ again, are you, petal?” He said smugly.

“No sir,” She hiccupped.

A jolt ran through her as he gathered her wetness and began circling her clit with two fingers.

“So sensitive, petal. Bet you almost came jus’ from me spankin’ you. Maybe you don’ need my cock after all? Maybe I should jus’ take care of myself and leave you here, what d’you think, petal? ”

She let out a pitiful moan. (Y/n)’s whole body was shaking; she was desperately trying not to come, her arms were shaking from holding herself up, and her breath was shaking from the stimulation of it all. She was almost there, almost ready to come when Harry suddenly let go of her hair and stopping playing with her pussy. Her arms gave out under her as she whined desperately at the loss of stimulation.

“Please! No, don’t leave me!” She sobbed. “I need it! Please give me your cock sir! I’ll be so good, I won’t come without askin’ please! Ple-”

“Okay, shh baby. Shh, ‘m gonna make y’feel so good. Y’such a good girl f’me.”

Harry leaned down and kissed up her spine gently. As he reached the base of her neck he grabbed the pink ribbon and ran it teasingly over her shoulders. “Color?”

She sniffled a bit before answering confidently, “Green, sir.”

“Tha’s my girl.” He pulled her up so she was kneeling and grabbed her arms, skillfully tying a cute little bow around her wrists. She wiggled a bit to make sure it was comfortable. Once she was settled, Harry pushed her back down into the pillow.

“What a sight. Must’ve been savin’ this for a rainy day, huh petal?”

She snorted at his joke but was quickly silenced by his finger sinking into her pussy. She hissed at the sensation, already a bit sensitive from the first orgasm he denied her.

“Y’always so warm for me, lovie. So warm ‘n tight. Can’t wait for my cock, can you?”

She whined and pushed back on his fingers as he added another, thrusting in and curling to find her g-spot. “Please! I’ve been so good, I’m ready!”

He chuckled at her begging, letting his thumb pet over her clit again before pulling his fingers out of her after one final thrust. “Y’think you’re ready, baby girl? I know I am.”

“Mhmm,” she nodded. “I’m ready, I promise.”

Harry used the wetness he had gathered from fingering her and stroked himself a few times, exhaling heavily as some pressure was finally released. He grabbed the ribbon where her wrists were tied and lined himself up, pushing gently into her soaked cunt.

They both released a guttural moan as he moved in her; her walls tightening around him and his length rubbing inside her perfectly.

As she felt him bottom out she let out a sob that was stuck in her chest. “Fu-ck. Thank you! You feel so fuck-fucking good!” He growled in response, reaching around and playing with her clit again while he waited for her to get accustomed to his size. She choked out another moan and squirmed, crying “Please! You can move now, please fuck me!”

He pulled out until only the head of his cock remained in her cunt, and then thrusted back in experimentally. Her moan spurred him on, allowing him to continue to set a slow and rough pace.

“Holy fuck, bunny. Y'feel so good,” Harry grit through his teeth. “I love this fuckin’ cunt, this ‘s all fo’ me, huh?”

She moaned and nodded as she squeezed his cock as tight as she could like a good girl. She wanted to behave, be his good girl. (Y/n) wiggled her hands at him as he continued to thrust. He got the hint and laced his fingers with hers. She let out a contented sigh that melted into a moan as his thrusting sped up. He loosened one of his hands from her grasp to reach down and stroke her button of nerves.

She wailed in response, tears brimming in her eyes again from the overwhelming sensations attacking her. Harry was all that existed. He surrounded her, stopped playing with her bundle of nerves and reached his hand up to wrap around her neck, pulling her up to meet his kisses. All she could feel, smell, taste as he paused thrusting to slide his tongue into her mouth before slamming back into her and letting her drop back into the pillow.

“Sh-shit baby girl. I can feel y'squeezin me, you’re almost there aren’t you?” She nodded in response, unable to form words. “Hold it jus’ a bit longer, I know you can do it. Fo’ me please, petal. Wanna feel tha’ cunt come with me.”

She shuddered as she fought to hold her orgasm back. Her cunt clenched and dripped down her thighs as Harry pounded into her as quickly as he possibly could without hurting either of them.

“N-now! Come now, petal! Give it to me, baby. Come for me!”

(Y/n) came with a shout, her eyes shut as tightly as possible. Her whole body clamped down onto Harry’s cock as she came and came and came. Her orgasm pulled Harry’s out of him, milking him for everything he had. One final thrust had him filling her with his cum, both moaning at the feeling of her pussy being filled even more.

She slumped into the pillow, body feeling like pudding. Harry leaned over her as they both took a moment to catch their breaths, both spent and relaxed after their afternoon delight. Harry recovered first, gently pulling out of her cunt. She clenched around him as he left her, almost as if she was inviting him to stay.

He quickly untied her wrists, mind set on dealing with his spilled seed later. He delicately rubbed the tender area, gently kissing the indentations.

“Y’did so good for me, (Y/n), thank you baby,” he whispered to her. She looked at him with foggy eyes, the afterglow finally settling in. She hummed in acknowledgment of his praise, smiling softly at him. “I’ll be ri’ back, petal. I’ve gotta go grab stuff to clean you up.”

He ran as quickly as possible to grab water bottles and snacks from downstairs, before stopping for a wet washcloth and a change of clothes for her on the way back. He set the food and spoons on the bedside table before cracking open a water bottle for her.

“Can you sit up a mo’? I know your bum’s a bit sore.” He helped her sit up enough to drink the water he gave her. As she gulped down the water, thankful for the cool drink to sooth her heated throat, he gently wiped up the mess he made of her pussy. He ran and tossed the cloth into their ensuite sink, quickly returning to his love.

“Can I rub some shea butter on your bum and wrists? It’ll help with the soreness, lovie.”

She sleepily nodded before asking “Could you please pull my hair back? It’s sweaty and itchy now.”

He laughed at her cloudy state and grabbed one of their scrunchies off of the dresser and carefully tied up her hair. He then pumped some lotion into his hands, warmed it slightly and guided her to lay down on her tummy again so he could soothe the red marks. After a few moments, when her fogginess had cleared and they were giggling and cracking jokes as he jiggled her bum in his hands, he helped her get up and walk to the toilet so she could relieve and redress herself before heading to their bedroom with the snacks.

(Y/n) climbed into bed, mindful of her sore bum, and excitedly grabbed the remote to turn on a movie for the couple to unwind to. Harry followed closely with two pints of ice cream and spoons -Chunky Monkey for her and Karamel Sutra for himself. They giggled again and settled down under the blanket as the opening scene to Clueless started on their television.

Taking a bite of the ice cream, (Y/n) looked over at her boyfriend. “Hey Har?” He looked at her, mouth full. “Thank you for getting us ice cream even though there was a storm. And for letting me read to you. I hope you enjoyed your prize.” She winked at him with a huge grin.

Heartily laughing, he leaned over and landed a loud smooch onto her cheek. “Of course, anything for you my love.”

As she cuddled into his side, snacking on ice cream and watching this cheesy rom-com, he knew he needed to find a reason to excuse himself to the closet that evening.

#oh shit i did it #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry smut #harry styles fluff #soft dom!harry #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry x y/n #harry style x y/n #fanfic #fic #writing #harry styles

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stanknotstark · 4 years ago

Text

Astral Pt. 8.1 (Loki x Reader)

I know the gif kinda spoils what’s gonna happen but I hope the build up is still enough to keep you surprised and happy XD I couldn't hold it back im just so excited they kiss I had to let you all read it 🥲

After dinner the entire team broke up and went to their respected rooms, leaving you and Loki in the living room together. Thor obviously wanted to speak to the two of you but you’re pretty sure it’s Natasha that convinces him that you two need your privacy for now. You’ll have to get her something, as thanks.

Loki takes both your hands into his as you both sit on the couch. You’re sitting apart from each other still finding things to be tense between you both.

“I’m the cause of this?” Loki asks running his thumbs over your bruises, looking over your hands.

“No,” You grimace when Loki squints at you, “Maybe. Yes. Kind of.” You blabber out.

Loki hums then his hands flow with green magic and in an instant the magic disappears along with your bruises.

“Thanks.” You say. Loki reluctantly lets your hands fall into your lap and he crosses his arms across his chest. More in a way that he probably feels vulnerable right now than anger or trying to close himself up to you.

You’re both awkwardly silent. Both of you start to talk at the same time.

“So we-”

“I believe-”

Both of you go quiet to let the other speak, realize what’s going on and chuckle together. You shoulders stop from tensing and you bite your lip, raising a brow at Loki. Loki gives a closed mouthed smile and opens his arms. You practically throw yourself into him and hug him tight. You’re never letting him go again. Ever.

“I missed you.” You whisper into his neck. Loki’s hand finds its way up to your head and plays with your hair like old times.

“And me, you.” Loki whispers, kissing your head then resting his face on your head. His hand pulls at your strands for a bit then he just rests his hand on your head, holding you.

There’s a question bugging you that you finally ask, timidly because it’s probably still a sore spot for Loki. “So, if Thor is king, how is he allowed to be here for so long?”

Loki hums thoughtfully, “He isn’t. He declined the crown.”

You pull away a bit to look at Loki in the eyes. “What?”

“Thor had a plan to attack the Jötunn, so we went and when we came back fa-the Allfather banished him, here, I’m sure you remember?”

You nod, remembering the reports coming in through Coulson that Thor had been in New Mexico. If you recalled correctly, Loki had sent a machine by the name of, The Destroyer, to kill Thor too...

“Well, the crown fell to me when the Allfather fell into Odin’s Sleep.”

Your eyes widen but the look on Loki’s face isn’t one of joy so you frown. Loki is looking into space, lost in thought, his hand moving down a bit to cup your neck and trace shapes into your skin.

“There’s something you’re not telling me...” You whisper suspiciously.

Loki’s eyes come back to yours, clouds of despair in them, but he blinks and it’s gone. “A story for another day.”

You take a deep breath but don’t have the heart to drag it out of him right now so you leave the topic behind and tell him about yourself instead.

“I’ve developed my powers, more so than what you last saw.”

Loki raises his eyebrows in question so you settle your head back in his neck and tell him. “I can control people’s minds for a bit, it takes a lot to do it for too long, honestly, and I can plant thoughts in people’s minds, see their memories.” You go quiet for a second thinking of what else you’ve learned, “I can shape-shift, only to other people right now trying to turn into an animal is really hard for some reason.”

“It’s because you’re not used to being in their form, you’ve only ever known the humanoid form so it takes a lot to grasp being in a different body.” Loki explains.

You gasp, “Can you change into an animal?”

Loki chuckles at your wonderment. At heart you still had that child-like fascination he’s always adored.

“Yes but it takes a lot of magic, I only do it when necessary.”

You hum thoughtfully, finding your hands had found their way to his leather and fidgeting with it. Pulling, tugging, rubbing.

“Oh!” You exclaim.

And I can do this. You say in Loki’s mind, pulling back from his hug, reluctantly, to see his facial expression. Loki looks pleased and shocked at the same time.

I was wondering when you’d develop telepathy.

Smirking, you think of holding hands in an image which Loki got because he reaches for your hands and holds them in his, shaking his head smiling.

“You can’t get enough of me, can you sweetheart?” Loki says regarding all the physical touching, smiling harder at the flush in your cheeks.

“I missed you ok,” You admonish, “I don’t see you complaining but I can stop-”

You begin to pull your hands away but Loki grabs your hands back and gives you a look of warning, as if daring you to stop touching him. You smile inwardly.

Instead you push Loki back into the couch, manhandling him (He snickers when you huff at him for not helping you move his body) until he’s laying in a good position for you to cuddle with him. You the little spoon, sigh contently.

Loki wraps his arms around your waist, pulls you into him as much as possible, then rests his cheek on yours.

You feel completely stupid after you say it, you’re not even sure why you blurted it out in the first place, but you randomly exclaim, “I’m not dating anyone.”

Ok, so, maybe you do know why you blurted it out but your mind is catching up to what you’ve just done. You hold your breath and get tense.

“Is that so?” Loki says, beating around the bush because he’s enjoying your nervousness for him.

You’re not sure what to do so you begin babbling (and you think maybe you’ve been around Tony too much), “I haven’t dated anybody. Haven’t had the time. I might have crushed a bit on some people-” Loki’s arms hug you tighter to him, “-but I never initiated anything with them just kind of kept to myself.”

“Why’s that?” Loki breath ghosts over your face.

You turn in place, Loki’s arms giving you room to do so, and when you face the God you bite your lip. Loki’s hand comes up, his thumb pulling your lip from your teeth, his eyes stuck on your pink lips. His hand still rests on your chin.

“Why?” He whispers.

You switch between looking at his eyes and lips and say, “Because I want someone else.”

Loki practically purrs the next question, his lips twitching at the edges.

“Who?”

You smile. “You. Asshole.”

Loki chuckles then closes the space between you both. When your lips meet it’s almost overwhelming. Your stomach is fluttering and you literally think you can feel sparks when your lips meet. With your eyes closed you focus on his mouth and just go with the flow because it all feels so natural, to reach up with your right hand and tangle your fingers in his hair, to tilt your head so he has better, deeper access to your mouth, to open your mouth at his inquisitive tongue. As Loki’s tongue explores your mouth you can taste him it’s a sweet taste it doesn’t taste like anything you know of, it just tastes like Loki.

For a second your tongues battle for dominance and you let out a gasp as his tongue dominates yours. One of his hands wraps around your waist and pulls you into him, the other hand strokes your hair, occasionally tugging at your strands as he loses himself in you.

When you both need to breathe you pull apart. Opening your eyes you watch Loki keep his closed but he has a ghost of a smile on his lips. Slowly his eyes open too, looking into yours with desire. The hand that had been stroking your hair goes back and hooks with his other hand to wrap around your waist.

You’re too scared to break the silence that has formed so Loki does instead.

“I’m assuming that was your first kiss?” He asks.

You can feel your face heat up. “Why was it ba-”

Loki pulls your lips to his again, this time without tongue. When he pulls back he breathes out, “No, darling, I merely want to confirm I was your first.”

You nod at him, your eyes roaming his face to keep as a memory forever.

Tag list: @justfangirlthingies @emelieh99 @high-functioning-lokipath

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yandere-daydreams · 5 years ago

Note

darling escapes from atsumu & runs to osamu for help, not knowing that the twins share the same feelings for her

I try to keep my Reader-Inserts gender neutral as often as possible, but I /love/ the idea of escaping from one brother, only to fall into the loving arms of another. At least Osamu’s a little nice, or, he can be, at least. He tries to be. Sometimes. Maybe. If you’re really, really lucky.

Title: Trade Off.

TW: Kidnapping, Captivity, Mentions of Physical Abuse, Dehumanization, and Slight Infantilization.

Osamu greeted you with a hug.

From anyone else, it wouldn’t have been surprising. What kind of friend wouldn’t hug you - a missing person, a victim of something awful with the evidence littered all over your skin, in burns and cuts and too many bite-marks to count, but Osamu had always been reserved. A hug from him was like rain in the desert, snowfall in the tropics, and despite everything you’d done to earn something more than just a stiff embrace and a moment of uncharacteristic affection, you’d cherished it. You’d fallen into it. You’d wanted it and you’d loved him for it, if only because it was something Atsumu’d never do. If only because it reminded you how different he was from his twin, despite their identical appearances.

If only because, from that point forward, you’d been sure you made the right choice by running to him, before friends and family and a dozen more reasonable choices. You were still sure.

It’d proved he cared about you, and that was something his brother could never do.

Even now, his protective fondness hung in the air, laying over you and keeping you warm like a blanket of worried glances and soft touches, Osamu taking any excuse to rest his hand on your shoulder or let his fingers brush against yours, little things to reassure himself that you were there and you were real, even if hours had already passed since you turned up on his doorstep. You’d already told him about Atsumu, how he’d turned into a monster overnight and the more palatable parts of your captivity, and he’d sat across from you in the cramped living-room, nodding occasionally and letting you speak, getting you a cup of something hot and herbal when your eyes went cloudy and your hands started to shake. You drank it down, thankful for the excuse to stifle the words you found pouring off of your tongue, despite your best efforts to hold them in.

Osamu took your story in stride. With his chin resting on his fist, he scanned over you, his gaze lingering passively on Atsumu’s shirt, the only piece of clothing you’d been able to grab before you fled, and a particularly bad bruise over your shoulder, dipping down until it reached your collarbone. “Want to use my phone?” He offered, his voice flat, but the question itself full of concern. “Your folks must be worried sick. I wouldn’t blame you for wantin’ to get out of here sooner than later.”

You should call someone, your parents, the police, someone, but a selfish, exhausted part of you just wanted to curl up on Osamu’s couch and spend a few more days in denial, pretending the past few months of your life hadn’t happened or dismissing the fact that they’d continue to take a toll on you. Embracing the idea wouldn’t be a good idea, but it couldn’t hurt to indulge it. Get a few hours of sleep, see if you could find a decent pair of pants. Take in Osamu’s hospitality rather than try to tell yourself you didn’t need it. “I need a little time,” You said, shaking your head idly. “You don’t mind if I hang around for a while, do you? I just… I’d like to get my story straight. Saying ‘my famous boyfriend locked me in his basement because he loved me’ might not go over well with the police.”

That earned an airy chuckle. Osamu stood, taking you by the hand to help you do the same. “C’mon. I have a spare room I’ve been fixin’ up, you can stay there for as long as you need to.”

You smiled up at him, and he smiled back. You weren’t sure whether it was relief, joy or gratitude that flooded into your body before you could remind yourself to be cautious, but you let Osamu guide you through his home without complaint, only letting go of his hand when he came to a white door at the end of a long hall, and Osamu had to fish through his pockets to find its key.

‘Fixing up’ had been an understatement.

You weren’t sure if Osamu and Atsumu had a younger sibling, any cousins they favored, but if they did, those kids must’ve been spoiled rotten. The walls were painted a rich, pastel pink, the desk and the bed both new and trendy and absolutely covered in trinkets and toys, things that fell somewhere between decorative and unnecessary. There weren’t any windows, but with a flip of a switch, a small army of lamps lit the room with a soft glow, making you want to fall onto the plush rug that covered most of the floor and lose yourself in the unadulterated homeyness. You couldn’t say you were difficult to impress - with Atsumu, your ‘room’ was either an empty, darkened closet or a crate, sometimes big enough to accommodate you, sometimes not. This felt… extravagant, in comparison. More than you deserved. More than you could accept without paying a price.

It made sense when you heard the door close behind you, a lock clicking into place and Osamu’s key slipping back into his pocket. Your heart still froze into your chest, your pulse slowing down and racing at the same time, but it made sense.

You swallowed your nerves hastily, forcing yourself to turn around and cross your arms over your chest. A futile gesture, considering Osamu’s height and your blatant frailty, but it was too early to grovel. If he wanted to push you around, you’d prove you could push back. “Let me out, now. I don’t know if you think this is funny, but--”

“I started putting this together the day after ‘tsumu got to you. It was already too late, no one knew what ditch you’d died in, but what the hell, right?” He walked past you swiftly, not bothering to acknowledge your rebellion. He didn’t speak loudly, nor was he any more imposing than he’d been a minute ago, but what he was saying, how casually he was saying it, was enough to render you speechless. Absentmindedly, he slid open the closet’s mirrored panel, rummaging through its contents as he went on. “It wasn’t hurting anyone, and if I was gonna get my hands on you eventually, I’d have a plan. He’s too impulsive, never had to wait for anythin’ in his life. I was worried he was gonna break you, for a few weeks.” He paused, pursing his lips as he found what he was looking for. Clothes were thrown at your feet, a full outfit too sheer and too minimalistic to be for your enjoyment. “Change. I’ve wanted to rip those fucking rags off of you since you got here.”

You didn’t bother responding to that. You had a feeling it would only fuel his smoldering hostility. “This isn’t--” You bit your tongue before you could finish. ‘It’s not fair’ was something a child would say, and you were an adult, a capable, independent adult. Clearly, you’d already done something to make the Miya twins think otherwise. “You have to let me go, Osamu. I just got away from your brother, I just got free, you can’t take that away from me. We’re supposed to be friends. You’re supposed to care about me.”

“I’m doing this because I care about you.” On their own, the words might’ve been kind, empathetic, but whatever warmth his gaze held was balanced out by the way his lips curled back, how his tone turned into a snarl so easily. “What would you do if I opened that door? Run off and tell the cops? Knock on doors until you find someone willing to believe that a celebrity and his twin both tried to kidnap you, back to back? Or, would you go crawling back to ‘tsumu, see if he still wants you after you let his brother put his hands all over you?” He had a way of laughing at his own jokes, the noise so arrogant, so confident, so annoying, it was hard to believe he’d ever found anyone else funny. Maybe he didn’t. Maybe he couldn’t. “I’m trying to be nice, but if you make this hard for me, I’ll make it hard for you.”

You grit your teeth, but your body betrayed you, eyes flickering down to the cloth at your feet. “I can manage on my own--”

“Don’t lie to me.” His fingers were in your hair before you noticed he was moving, forcing your head to bow as his blunt nails dug into your scalp. “You’re helpless, and you know you are. If you aren’t in ‘tsumu’s bed, you’re gonna be in mine, and you’re smart enough to make the right choice. Fucking change, before I start to think it’d be easier to throw you out myself.”

You stiffened, going rigid under his palm. Then, you kneeled, taking up the silken fabric and casting him one last glare before retreating to the other side of the room, turning your back to Osamu as you slid Atumu’s shirt over your head.

Just exchanging one kidnapper for another.

Silently, Osamu watched as you fled and regrouped, facing away from him to hide the way your shoulders trembled, your body shaking so violently, Osamu couldn’t be sure whether or not you were trying to make him pity you. He didn’t mind, though. He’d been waiting months for this. Years, honestly, but Osamu’s teenage daydreams hardly centered around taking in his brother’s wayward brat. If Atsumu had tried to train you, he’d done a piss-poor job. You were as obedient as you would’ve been fresh-off the streets, and now you knew all the tricks and tactics of a well-worn captive.

Still, he’d be lying if he said he was disappointed. Already, a collection of incentives were burning holes in his mattress, tucked under his bed and waiting to be used the first time you acted-up with something more aggressive than words. Luckily, you were too preoccupied to notice his mouth moving in a silent prayer, words of thanks that you’d turned down his offer to use his phone. If you thought to go through his messages, his call history, you wouldn’t have liked what you found. He was already planning for how… distressed you’d be, at the next trade-off.

If you were this fussy to fall into Osamu’s care at all, he couldn’t imagine how you’d act when Atsumu’s next turn came around.

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shinydelirium · 4 years ago

Text

MLQC KIRO SPOILERS FROM S2 CH10-13

WARNING: DO NOT, I REPEAT, DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO BE SPOILED ON FUTURE MLQC CONTENT!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

This is a small translation of a Kiro scene from the new chapters recently released on CN server(s2 ch10-13). Just to let everyone know, I do not know Chinese so this was translated using Google Translate. I do apologize for any errors and mistranslations you may encounter. I did my best to make it flow well but the scene should speak for itself nonetheless. I do not know whether I will translate other Kiro scenes from the chapters since this one scene alone was just BRUTAL. Thanks @link4eva for looking over it for me. Sorry for making you read this :(

[Location: Hospital room]

Kiro never felt that his world was so quiet. He slammed his fist against the wall and there was no feedback other than the faint pain. He opened his mouth and could clearly feel his throat vibrating, but the whole world was silent.

Did I speak? Did I make a sound?

He did not know.

Doctor: Based on the existing medical conditions, it is difficult for doctors to fundamentally cure your condition. We can use external equipment to help you simulate the real sound to the greatest extent on a physical level, but in any case, it will be different from the sound obtained by the real human ear. Next, we will equip you with the best hearing aids and adjust their parameters according to your use as much as possible until the most optimal results are achieved. This process will last about a week and I hope you can cooperate.

After waking up, Kiro shut himself in the ward. He didn’t want to see anyone.

Kiro: Hello, can Kiro hear it? Hello, please respond when Kiro has received it.

He spoke softly and closed his eyes. He felt like he had fallen into the deep, silent sea and couldn’t hear any echo from this world. Kiro didn’t know how long he had been lying on the bed. He sat up and stared at the blank wall opposite him. He didn’t think about anything. In other words, he could not think about anything.

The whole world was empty and he tried hard to smear something on it, but only a blank space was left. Suddenly, without knowing why, he had a feeling that someone seemed to be standing outside the door. The person he wants to see the most, but also the person he least wants to see.

At that moment, he seemed to feel a force pushing him forward, making him unable to flee. He got out of bed, walking very slowly, step by step, lowering his head to confirm that every step was indeed on the ground. Kiro walked to the door and put his hand on the door.

Kiro: Is it MC?

He moved his lips, wondering if his voice had come out.

How could she be here?

He told Savin not to tell her. He couldn’t tell whether these words were spoken in his heart or whether he had spoken them out loud. Kiro leaned back against the door and sat down. His shoulders slowly slumped, and he stretched out his hands and buried his head in his knees. The breath he seemed to be holding back was finally released. He knew he shouldn’t be like this. When he decided to do those things, he should have known he would pay a lot of unexpected prices. He thought he was ready. No matter what he did, he would be firm in his decisions.

*NOOOOOOO, PLEASE!!!! MY HUBBY!!!*

But when he couldn’t hear any echo, couldn’t hear the tune he was singing, he thought of her face. He finally realized that he is now “Kiro” who is no longer perfect.

*MY HEART IS BEING RIPPED OUT AND PUT INTO THE SHREDDER!!!*

As if resisting this conclusion, there was a sudden vibration at the door.

Kiro: ….Miss Chips?

Subconsciously, Kiro said the name and then he couldn’t help but laugh at himself. There are not many people who know about him, but the medical staff may have leaked the news.

Maybe it’s an unknown fan. Maybe it’s someone knocking on the wrong door. Maybe it’s her. He doesn’t even dare to confirm if the person outside is her. She shouldn’t be here but Savin told her what to do. Did people outside say anything?

He turned around and put his hands on the door. Anger, powerlessness, unwillingness, frustration, all these emotions filled his heart at this moment. Then, everything fell to pieces.

He couldn’t help clenching his teeth to restrain himself from shaking. He tried to raise his voice and say an answer. No matter who it is, there will be no mistake.

Kiro: Thank you, go back, alright.

[Scene change: outside Kiro’s hospital room door]

However, I did not intend to give up. I dialed Kiro’s phone number and the phone rang from inside the door. The person leaning on the door didn’t seem to hear it and didn’t respond. I dialed over and over, but he remained indifferent. I resisted the urge to shout and took several deep breaths. Since you are not going to answer the phone---

I patted myself on the face, simply sat on this side of the door and started speaking.

MC: Kiro, I know you don’t want to see anyone. You don’t seem to want to see me either. But let me at least talk to you on this side of the door? Kiro, please reply when you receive it------.

End of translation

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quixotic-writer · 4 years ago

Text

Love and Lust

Song Request: Salvatore – Lana Del Rey

Plot Request: Wattpad

Summary: In the world of romance, there are two categories of it that go hand in hand: love and lust. In the romance between Brian and Sal, there seemed to be a perfect balance that they adored. Valentine’s day dinner was the love, what came afterwards was the lust.

Warning: Smut ahead!

In the world of romance, there are two categories of it that go hand in hand: love and lust. In the romance between Brian and Sal, there seemed to be a perfect balance that they adored.

Love

Brian showed this through words of adoration, continuously telling Sal how in love he is with him, how handsome he is, and endless slews of ‘I love you.’ He was always quite a gentleman, holding doors open, helping Sal with little things, and a surprise gift once he came home from the supermarket which was something he saw in a window that just reminded him of his lover. Whenever they argued, he saw the hurt and fear in Sal’s eyes and was always quick to simmer down and apologize and talk things out, always ending it with ‘sorry,’ a kiss, and ‘I love you.’

Sal showed his love through surprise hugs and cries for kisses and cuddles. Physical touch was quite possibly his biggest love language. He always was quick and ready to take on chores around the house, including helping with Brian’s little feline friends. That was his biggest show of adoration and love: making an effort to befriend and care for the creatures he would often run from. He would always find ways to get Brian to smile especially if he had a hard day. Nothing made him happier than making sure his love had a healthy dose of happiness and laughter to off-set the more negative emotions.

Lust

They both desired each other in the most delicious ways. Their passion for each other in the bedroom was just as prevalent as it was outside of the bedroom.

Sal more often than not was the one to initiate and get things in motion. Brian was never one to complain and he was quick to get excited too. Truth was: Sal couldn’t get enough of Brian’s body. He loved every inch of it. Broad shoulders, rough hands with a delicate touch, sometimes he’d love to trace his fingers over his tattoos, and the main attraction. Brian knew how to work Sal into absolute euphoria, hitting all the right erogenous spots and filling him to the brim. He was long and thick, and Sal salivated every time they got intimate knowing just what was waiting for him.

Brian felt the same as Sal. He loved running his hands through his lover's slight curls that sat atop of his head as he was receiving a blowjob. He adored the way that Sal wanted nothing more than to please him over and over again. He loved the skin on skin contact, it felt like a fire was ignited every time he felt the other’s bare embrace. Above all: he fell submissive to Sal sometimes and he loved letting Sal have control once in a while. It created a whole new dynamic and it kept things fresh for them.

Valentine's day and it was a romantic evening out. Brian decided he wanted to spoil Sal for the evening; Bringing him to the fancy steak house they occasionally passed by in the city. Sal would always turn his nose to it saying ‘only absolute snobs would eat here.’ Brian knew he liked things simple, but a little treat once in a while never hurt.

“You absolutely did not Bri.” Sal retorted to the news of how he should dress for the occasion tonight. He was reluctant, not wanting to spend so much money on a silly dinner.

“You don’t worry about it. Just get ready and let me treat you tonight, okay?” Sal huffed but put on his nicest suit and freshened up. Emerging out and looking at Brian, Sal knew that they looked good and cleaned up incredibly well. “Look at you. Big ol’ teddy bear.” Sal said as he let his palms graze Brian’s chest and went in for a kiss. They both kept gushing until it was time to leave. It seemed to finally take Sal’s mind off of where it was they were going and all his other grievances about Brian’s evening plans.

The restaurant was gorgeous and the food was delicious. All Sal’s worries melted away as he enjoyed himself the whole evening and the presence of his lover with him. They talked and joked the whole evening, laughing, smiling, content.

“Would you gentlemen care to see a dessert menu?” Both Brian and Sal looked at each other. In that moment Sal had a glint in his eye, one that Brian knew all too well as he smirked and looked back to their lovely waitress.

“No thank you, just the check please.”

“I will get that for you then.” She was off leaving the two alone with devilish smirks on their faces.

“What’s the look for Salvatore?” The way Brian said his name already sent shivers down his spine.

“Oh you know, we just have dessert waiting at home that I'd love to dive into and enjoy.” He winked at Brian and licked his lips. Brian hummed with a smile.

“Might just take a little bit of that and enjoy some myself.” The fire was already beginning to ignite and the waitress couldn’t seem to come back soon enough.

Brian was quick to pay and get them out of there as soon as possible. He tried driving as safely as he could but he wanted to be home quickly. Their lust was getting the better of them, Sal was already squirming in his seat and Brian’s imagination was running wild and sending a quick pulse down to his groin as he started to strain against his dress pants.

The moment they burst through the door, clothes began to shed away and lips were promptly connected as they began to stumble their way to their bedroom.

“Fuck you looked so good tonight.” Sal mumbled against Brian’s lips as they tugged at the buttons of their dress shirts and grasped for the buckle of their belts. Brian moaned into the kiss hearing Sal speak. They continued to leave a trail of clothing, not caring and making a mental note to clean it up later.

Once they reached the bedroom, Sal pushed Brian onto the edge of it as he quickly tugged at his boxers. This was when Brian knew what kind of tone was being created within the bedroom for the evening.

“You treated me, it’s my turn now to give you a little something special.” With trained eyes, Brian watched as he sprung free from his boxers, twitching and aching in anticipation for what Sal had in store for tonight. Sal takes Brian’s length in his hand and gives long drawn out strokes, his grip changes as he goes up and down gripping harder at certain parts and watching as Brian lets out a drawn out moan at the sensation and rolls his head back. As he reaches the tip, he swipes his thumb around the top, spreading the pre-cum everywhere. When he did that he took his thumb and licked it, tasting the slight taste of pre-cum and smiling up at his boyfriend.

“More, please. Sal, I need more.”

“You do?” Sal looked up and batted his eyes at Brian, watching as he fell into submission. Brian knew better than to start touching himself, as much as he wanted to he knew better. If he had, Sal would have edged him for hours, pure torture. So he sat there aching for more contact, begging and pleading for it with small whines and moans.

“Yes! Please, anything. I just wanna feel you.”

“I love the way you sound when you beg.” He licked the tip of Brian’s cock, a sharp inhale was the sound he received from that action. He swirled his tongue around the tip before taking it in his mouth, bobbing his head just there at the top, listening to the sounds of his boyfriend and watching as his eyes sealed shut and lips parted. Brian was gripping at the sheets on either side of him, resisting the urge to shove Sal down farther. It felt so good, but it just wasn’t enough yet.

Sal was slow with his movements, savoring each and every inch he took into his mouth. As he bobbed his head, he decided that his lover’s had enough torture; He started taking more of him into his mouth. Brian groaned in relief and basked in the sensation. As Sal continued he wrapped a hand around his own cock and started pumping himself as he sucked Brian off.

“Oh god ‘m close Sal.” Brian was panting and Sal only picked up in speed. He now took his free hand and gripped it around the base of Brian’s cock – whatever he couldn’t get into his mouth without severely gagging – and started twisting and pumping, adding to the sensation and bringing Brian closer and closer to his climax. “Oh fuck~” Sal felt the spurts of hot cum fill his mouth, he held himself still as he continued to pump his hand allowing more cum to seep into his mouth and allow Brian to ride out his high. Sal pulls back and swallows, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Brian quickly pulls Sal onto his lap, lips crashing together again, tongues swirling about with the lingering taste of Brian’s ecstasy on Sal’s taste buds. Sal’s hips come to life as he starts grinding his hips into Brian’s to reach his own high. His hips were moving fast as he was already so close, moaning into Brian’s mouth, eyes closed, loving the sensation of Brian’s slick cock rubbing against his own.

“You’re so perfect. You make me feel so good. Gonna cum.” Brian held Sal close as they continued kissing until Sal pulled away, his abdomen constricted and ropes of cum painted both their torsos. Sal let out a moan that scratched the back of his throat as his legs shook because of the sensation of his climax. Brian pushes the hair out of his face to be met with half lidded green eyes and smiles, laying a soft kiss on his forehead. “We’re not done just yet sweetheart.” Sal said quietly as he pushed Brian back onto the bed. Brian was excited and ready, eagerly anticipating round two.

Sal ground his ass against Brian’s cock, biting his lip, excited to feel him inside of him. He grabs Brian’s cock, guiding it to his entrance, and slowly sinks down. Brian watches for just a moment and watches as he starts filling Sal and presses his head back into the pillow at the sensation of his boyfriend around him. His hands were on Sal’s hips, finger tips digging in slightly as he sunk lower and lower.

“Fuck I love your cock inside of me Bri.” Sal says as he circles his hips, eliciting a moan out of Brian.

“You feel so good around me. Please. More.” He tries to lift Sal off his lap to feel more friction, but Sal firmly plants himself down and places a hand on his chest.

“No no no Bri. I’m in charge tonight. I could punish you for that.”

“Please no, please. Don’t stop.” He was begging and pleading, hoping that it would be enough.

“Since you’ve been so nice today, I guess I'll be nice too baby.” Sal decided to take pity on him just for tonight, not wanting to torture him too much because that would mean losing what he wanted just to torture him. Instead, he decided he was gonna ride Brian until he was seeing stars. His hips quickly worked into action, lifting himself up, then dropping down thanks to gravity. As he did that, he could feel Brian’s cock hitting his prostate and sending sparks of pleasure through each and every nerve in his body.

Both men were covered in a sheen of sweat. Sal was working his hips as fast as he could loving how he was feeling as he felt his second orgasm starting to slowly creep on him. His hands were planted on Brian’s chest for leverage and balance. He loved feeling Brian’s hands roam over each and every part of him that he could reach, they eventually found their way to his leaking cock and promptly started pumping him in a tight fist, adding to his pleasure. Brian was hypnotized by the sight of Sal’s hips working so fast and it turned him on even more. Despite sinking down so fast onto his cock, Sal was still as tight around him as ever and it felt so damn good. He loved hearing the sounds Sal was making and each moan, whine, and grunt only brought him closer to the edge.

“Gonna cum again babe.” Sal said through pants as his thighs began to tremble and grow tired. Brian saw this and was quick to help, thrusting up and meeting Sal’s hips. This ended up hitting Sal deeper than ever before and he felt like he was in pure lustful bliss.

“I’m close too, cum for me baby.” Brian sped up the movement of his hand while thrusting his hips. With a cry Sal came all over his abdomen and Brian’s fist. This set off Brian, with a final thrust he finished inside of Sal. Both were left panting, tired, and just a little sore from the workout they just got. Sal had his head on Brian’s chest, it was lifted by his hand and their lips met for a soft kiss. “God that was incredible Sally.”

“Happy Valentine’s day. Let’s get cleaned up.”

“Yeah, this is… A lot.” They both looked at the mess they made and laughed as they found the energy to lift themselves off the bed to go and shower.

#fluff #smut #vulquinn #suki writes

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hetalia-has-a-secretary · 4 years ago

Note

Allies + Canada and Axis + Prussia walking in on their toddler singing Disney songs while wearing a costume that matches that certain Disney movie (like for example Germany walks in on them singing I’ll make a man out of you and the toddler is dressed like Mulan, you decide the song the toddler sings that fits which country and who they’re dressed up as)

QwQ omg my favorite Disney princess is 100% The girl from brave! (I'm kicking myself for forgetting her name...) And you know this prompt is gonna be super cheesy lmao and I'm stretching it across general kid movies!

Dad!Allies and Dad!Axis catching their child dressed up as their favorite Character!

Allies-

America:

He could hear Monster's Inc. playing for about, the fourth time today

The only difference this time was he could hear his kid going "Rawr!" Every five seconds.

The man got curious and just about busted a gut from restraining his laughter.

His kid had Purple colored paper taped all over them. It was hard to tell but they were dressed up as Boo!

This gave him an idea!

Running up to this spare attic he found a purple blanket and an unused mop and some googly eyes.

Walking back to his kid he helped them get on his make shift Boo outfit, and the kid was ELATED about it. No more paper cuts for them!

The best part was when he asked them why they dressed up as Boo, they told him it was because Boo was brave, and wasn't scared of monsters, just like their dad!

Cue their kid getting America a box of tissues while he cried on the floor.

England:

He wasn't a fan of American movies, but his kid was, so what his kid wanted, was what they got.

It... It was Shrek.

At first England kind of disliked the movie, but the more he watched it with his kid, the more he liked art the interpretations of the fairy tale characters.

And this was an extremely special moment for england.

Around the fifth time watching it he saw his kid point to one of the characters and say "That's not what tinker bell looks like!"

England had immediately spit out his tea, and started questioning his kid about it.

This was how he learned that his child had the same ability to see fairytale creatures as he does!

Soon enough he had his kid running around grabbing different blankets and scarfs to try and recreate what she really looked like!

Now he has a child sized Tinkerbell running around, Tinkerbell herself chasing after them playfully.

France:

He has the whole Disney collection from start to finish, and it's terrifying.

His kid is also badly addicted. But especially to Little Mermaid.

The thing is, France has his child completely spoiled, and has a bunch of maids around the place. One of which loves nothing more than sewing together cute outfits for the kid.

It's not that France doesn't have the time, oh no, this was the kids idea, and their idea only.

One day, after a grueling work day, he's in his room, trying to rest. His kid comes in wearing a trench coat.

France is courious as to why, and his mood is immediately lifted as the small child acts out a shortened play of The Little Mermaid, all costumes included.

It was amazing how well they moved with all the clothes they were wearing, and taking them on and off again as quickly as possible.

By the end France had given them a standing ovation, and they both happily napped on his bed due to the amount of physical exhaustion.

You can 100% catch France bragging about his little star to the other countries when he gets the chance!

China:

China's rubbed off on his child with several things.

One of those things is his love for old culture and reminiscing memories.

so surprise! Mulan is 100% a movie in the house... Except his kid has become brutality obsessed with the dragon.

One day China's fancy res shirts goes missing, and he finds it on his child while they were watching Mulan.

Mimicking everything Mushu does.

China has to hold his hand over his mouth as his kid eventually trips over the long shirt and starts saying things like "This is disrespectful to dragons!" And "If this shirt has a cow, it is now dishonored!"

Eventually china, very shyly, dresses up as Mulan while his kid isn't watching.

The kid proceeds to act like they're meeting a princess at Disney, not recognizing their own father.

Russia:

Unlike him, his kid really, REALLY loves the snow.

It's something that he hopes his child grows out of because he's heard them sing 'let it go' about 50 times.

It was very cute at first. Now he wants to beat the CD with his pipe (and then America for gifting them the movie).

But then the SECOND on came out.

Now his child parades around as Elsa, hitting high sqeaky notes, and following around the cat.

Cat is having more fun then the kid to be honest.

Russia was about to try and distract his kid until they asks him to play dress up with them

The sparkle in their eyes made him immediately say yes.

They wanted him to be Christoph, and when he asked them why he just about cried.

"Your cool, funny, nice, and you have the same nose!"

That's it. That broke him, he's trying not to cry

Has never knitted a dress so fast in his life, and has a very similar outfit to Christoph as well, so the two of them are parading around the house with their cat trailing behind them. His own little knitted Olaf costume on!

Canada:

Canada's kid can be rebellious at best, but seeing them dressed up as maleficent almost made him choke.

Is his kid turning into a villain!?

Nope. Turns out they just thought she was really cool, and felt bad that she wasn't invited to the child's birthday, or whatever.

And to be honest, yeah, that's kind of cruel.

Canada had bought the Sleeping Beauty film via America's suggestion, and wasn't dissapointed.

And now it was totally worth it since his kid was going through their "I have one outfit and no matter how many times my horns won't fit through the car door, I refuse to take them off" phase.

He enjoyed watching his kid act out a happier ending dressed as the Disney villain. And even snuck a few pictures of them prancing around and singing.

It brought tears to his eyes knowing that no matter what, his kid can see the good in anyone, and maybe one day that will come in handy!

Axis-

Germany:

I need to make it immediately clear, that Germany and China now officially plan playdates for their Mulan obsessed children.

Except Germany's kid is obsessed with Li Shang, and the "let's get down to business" song.

He's so proud of his kid not being afraid to show their little clumsy moves in order to show people they mean business.

Even if he can't take them seriously when they are this small and cute.

It starts out when they wanted to be a character from Mulan on Halloween, not yet seen the movie, but all that was left was a mock up Li Shang costume.

It was game over.

The kid would sing to his German shepherds as if they were their shoulders and bark dog commands.

Germany is a proud father now.

And the playdates I mentioned earlier? Oh yeah it's twice as cute when you have a tiny red dragon going "I HAVE TINY ARMS I CAN NIT BE MAN!"

Italy:

Beauty and the beast.

Italy's kid adores Bell, and has memorized every line, and dance.

One point gave him a heart attack catching them climbing a latter.

The best part is, Italy kept his chibi outfit from when he lived under Austria's rules. Which was at some point died blue, but now he has a tiny Bell running around more than gleefully.

Italy even joins in with him, and honestly it's the cutest thing.

Surprisingly his kid is really good with singing, and this is their new favorite hobby now.

Italy is also really emotional over the fact his kid wasn't scared of Beast either. His little tike is going to be a brave one, Italy is going to make sure of it!

Japan:

Yeah, Disney movies don't exist in his house, but Studio Ghibli 1000% does.

His kid is obsessed with Ponyo!

One day Japan was really concerned over how quiet his kid was being until he found them in the koi pond, trying to talk to the fishes, and heard him name them Ponyo 1-5.

His heart dank because he wanted to tell them the fish had no clue what they were saying, but at the same time.

Kawaii overload.

Small child talking to the koi, and enjoying the water, and muddy rain puddles? Oh yeah. That's adorable.

Eventually he makes them a fish outfit and it's a good thing it was mostly foam because the first thing his kid did was splash around in the puddles.

Japan filmed it.

He's planning on embarrassing his kid when they turn 16.

It's payback for not letting him watch the movie with them earlier.

Prussia:

Oh no. His kid has become obsessed with Rapunzel.

"how is that an issue?"

Well when your kid developed some of your impulse control issues, you will find them trying to crawl out of a window to escape their unlawful step mother/Prussia.

He was extremely confused about it at first as well. Untill his kid said, something something RAPUNZEL!

Then it clicked, and he was able to laugh about it.

Prussia hasn't seen the movie himself, and when he watches it he thinks Rapunzel is so quirky and super AWESOME! Especially because his kid now has a bunch of yarn on their head.

Not gonna lie, they both dress up as Rapunzel and try and fight each other with the long wigs.

Which is a sight to see first thing in the morning. Just ask Germany.

I know I didn't answer the prompt exactly, but I couldn't resist making some wholesome content! Also-

HER NAME IS MERIDA I JUST REMEMBERED IT LIKE, 3 DAYS AFTER THE FIRST DRAFT! THE CHICK FROM BRAVE IS MERIDA!!!

#hetalia #hetalia russia #hetalia american #hetalia england #hetalia france #hetalia china #hetalia canada #hetalia germany #hetalia italy #hetalia japan #hetalia prussia #hows that for a tag list #hws #hetalia world starts

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darkpoisonouslove · 4 years ago

Note

Can I give you a lot of work and ask you to answer all the questions in the otp question meme for Griffin x Faragonda, please? (I like them too much, and there's a lack of content about them...)

I love them, too, and I totally get the disappointment of having so little content about them. I feel it myself.

These are all set after season 1 in what is decidedly not an AU but canon keeps refusing to confirm.

1. Who is the most affectionate?

Faragonda has always been more touchy-feely but Griffin is completely on board with it. They’ve been apart long enough. She can more than use all of the clinginess.

2. Big spoon/Little spoon?

They switch but Faragonda is the big spoon more often. She loves giving Griffin all the affection. And Griffin melts in her arms.

3. Most common argument?

Where the line lies for witch pranks at official events. They really do not share the same view on that and the dissonance arises quite often. Not their most heated argument by a far cry but certainly the most common one.

4. Favorite non-sexual activity?

Having a tea party and just getting to talk to each other while they’re relaxing. It is the best stress relief to just sit together and chat about anything and everything.

5. Who is most likely to carry the other?

Faragonda. She totally sees it as yet another opportunity to be affectionate. Griffin is more surprised than Faragonda thought she’d be and she also seems more touched. That might have made Faragonda repeat it. Griffin is starting to feel spoiled.

6. What is their favorite feature of their partner’s?

Griffin’s is Faragonda’s eyes. She loves the contrast of their dark color that reminds a lot of a cloudy sky and how soothing they are to her. Just a look in Faragonda’s eyes lets her know that she’s home.

Faragonda loves all of Griffin but she especially loves running her fingers through Griffin’s hair. Or brushing it. Or braiding it. It’s super soft and just the lightest touch can send Griffin shivering which is Faragonda’s favorite part. She loves how responsive Griffin is to touches of her hair.

7. What’s the first thing that changes when they realize they have feelings for the other?

Griffin starts getting jealous which is definitely new at least in a romantic context. She’s seen Faragonda date before and even encouraged it but now it is unbearable to even think about it.

Faragonda is more subtle about it. It’s her body language that changes - lingering gazes and touches. Maybe a couple remarks that are more suggestive. She’s careful not to push them back into not talking to each other, though.

8. Nicknames? & if so, how did they originate?

They don’t have nicknames for the other. They might just love saying the other’s name too much for that.

9. Who worries the most?

Both of them worry enough about each other’s well-being and the general state of things with the world at large - considering what they’ve lived to see - but Griffin actually worries a little more. Since she was the one who sort of initiated the rifts between them the previous times, she is worried about what might happen next and whether she won’t be stupid enough to let them get torn apart again. Faragonda has to reassure her that they will be fine and they will come out of anything together just like they always have.

10. Who remembers what the other one always orders at a restaurant?

Faragonda. She thinks it’s the least she can do when she drags Griffin out to a restaurant when Griffin would prefer to stay home even if she will be the one to cook in that case. Griffin also remembers what Faragonda orders, however, and then makes it for her at home.

11. Who tops?

They switch but Faragonda tops more often. Griffin totally loves leaving her in charge, especially since Faragonda makes her feel like the most loved person in the world.

12. Who initiates kisses?

Griffin does. Faragonda is not shy at all, especially with Griffin but she actually likes it when Griffin initiates the kiss and directs it.

13. Who reaches for the other’s hand first?

Faragonda. Again, she is more about touching but once they’re holding hands, Griffin won’t let go of her.

14. Who kisses the hardest?

Griffin. She kisses like there’s no tomorrow and leaves Faragonda totally breathless but she’s not complaining.

15. Who wakes up first?

Griffin does most of the time. It is hard even for Faragonda to beat her to it when Griffin seems to have endless energy even if Faragonda is the one with the sunshine personality. Griffin claims that is exactly why Faragonda needs more time to recharge - she is spreading too much of her positivity around and it uses up her energy.

16. Who wants to stay in bed just a little longer?

Both of them. They have actually been late for work because they didn’t want to leave the bed and each other’s company.

17. Who says I love you first?

Griffin. Faragonda actually wants to take things at Griffin’s pace and not rush them into something they’re not ready for that could tear them apart.

18. Who leaves little notes in the other’s one lunch? (Bonus: what does it usually say?)

Faragonda does. Griffin is a little surprised by how Faragonda managed to sneak them in there without her noticing since she was the one who prepared the food. She knows the fairy has her ways, though, especially since Griffin is often distracted by her presence. And it makes her day so who is she to complain, really?

19. Who tells their family/friends about their relationship first?

They don’t really say anything but Griselda figures it out a couple months before Ediltrude and Zarathustra do. Saladin, on the other hands, only learns from the twins a long way down the line and is pretty salty that they didn’t tell him sooner.

20. What do their family/friends think of their relationship?

They are all ecstatic that it is finally happening because they all know how much Griffin and Faragonda have always meant to each other and how much not speaking had affected them. Seeing them finally taking the chance and making each other happy makes their friends happy, too.

21. Who is more likely to start dancing with the other?

Faragonda totally drags Griffin into dancing whenever she feels like it. Griffin only complains about it a little. Just for the sake of it. She actually loves slow dancing with Faragonda but she has to be dramatic. It’s good for the soul.

22. Who cooks more/who is better at cooking?

Griffin is the better cook and she cooks almost always unless she is dead tired in which case Faragonda might take the risk and try her hand at making dinner. She isn’t actually that bad at cooking but she feels her meals can never live up to Griffin’s even if Griffin claims they’re really good.

23. Who comes up with cheesy pick up lines?

Griffin. Faragonda has expressed profound shock over her never ending arsenal of those but Griffin keeps delivering.

24. Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear during inappropriate times?

Griffin, most of the time. She is a witch; she has a reputation to uphold. And it is pretty fun (and hot) to see Faragonda get flustered. Except, Faragonda retaliates sometimes and it is Griffin that ends up flustered. But she has to face the consequences for her actions and Faragonda makes up for it anyway. ;)

25. Who needs more assurance?

Griffin. She has some guilt in storage both in regards to her relationship with Faragonda and just in general and is relieved when Faragonda reassures her that everything is okay, especially between the two of them.

26. What would be their theme song?

Find Me by Sigma ft Birdy (acoustic version)

27. Who would sing their child back to sleep?

Griffin. Faragonda might join her but she’s also quite content just listening and watching. She also gets pretty lulled by Griffin’s singing.

28. What do they do when they’re away from each other?

Griffin is impossible when Faragonda can’t be with her for whatever reason. She gets irritable and starts making everyone miserable by turning even more pedantic than usual. Zarathustra and Ediltrude do their best to keep her occupied which sometimes involves lots of wine and chess.

Faragonda definitely handles separation better by doing things that will make her feel closer to Griffin like reading Griffin’s favorite book or tending to the plants. It doesn’t mean that she doesn’t miss her super much, though.

29. One headcanon about this OTP that breaks your heart

They’ve ended up seriously hurting each other - both physically and emotionally - while Faragonda was with the Company and Griffin was with the Coven. They didn’t necessarily want to fight each other but were forced by the circumstances. There was also a decent amount of anger and despair on either side and the possibility that they might have actually hurt each other on purpose freaks them both out.

30. One headcanon about this OTP that mends it

They retire together on Domino and help raise Daphne and Bloom’s kids. Also, they have a peaceful life because they have been through so much and deserve some rest.

#winx club #winx griffin #winx faragonda #griffin x faragonda #winx headcanons #ask #hoanjakeahna

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everlarkbirthdaygifts · 5 years ago

Text

Happy Birthday, amazinglovers747!

Happy Birthday, @amazinglovers747! We hope you’ve had a wonderful day so far, and you got exactly the presents you were hoping for! To keep your party going a little while longer, the lovely @endlessnightlock has written a story just for you!

Happy Birthday! This fic is rated E for explicit sexual content and swearing. There are also mentions of Covid home-quarantine if anyone is trying to avoid that subject right now; it's not a big plot point, just a means to the end.

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Johanna slid onto the stool next to Katniss at the breakfast bar She casually grabbed her wrist, temporarily holding her prisoner.

“Hey!” Katniss cried as Johanna raised her trapped hand and took a bite of the toast dangling between her fingers. Once she was free, in disgust, she flung it away. Johanna, of course, deftly snatched the toast mid-air before it had a chance to land on the kitchen floor.

“You do remember we’re in the middle of a pandemic, don’t you? We shouldn’t be eating after each other! Are you trying to get sick?”

Johanna rolled her eyes as she stood, her crunchy, perfectly browned spoils in hand as she moved to the sink. “And we live together, brainless. We’re around each other all the time, so it’s not like we’re not swimming around in each other’s germs already.” She took another bite of the toast, letting it dangle from her mouth as she poured herself some coffee. ”If one of us gets sick, we're all going to.”

“Speak for yourself,” Finnick said, rounding the corner next to the refrigerator. He had a towel slung low over his hips, barely in place, casually rubbing another one across his hair. “I keep myself in peak physical condition, just for such a reason. My body is a perfect, well-oiled machine. I don’t have time to get sick- I can’t deprive the world just because of something like COVID; after all, I’m already covering my face when I go out. That’s enough of a loss.”

Katniss ignored him- this was just typical Finnick Odair nonsense, same as the display of skin. Neither was anything new. When she first moved into this place a year ago, it’d been an adjustment, to say the least, getting used to all the nudity that went on within its walls.

It wasn’t like Katniss was ashamed of her body or anything; she looked okay, she guessed. She’d just never met two less-shy people in her life than Finnick and Johanna. Neither had a problem walking around the apartment half-dressed or worse at any hour of the day.

Katniss had lost count of the number of times she’d seen Finnick’s bare ass or watched Johanna casually stroll around naked in the girls’ shared bathroom while one of the other of them was getting ready in the morning.

At least it’s not Peeta walking around naked; Katniss thought as that squirmy, ticklish feeling reared its head the way it did every time she thought of her third roommate. That would be sensory overload.

Not that she wouldn’t want to see Peeta in the buff (lord knew she did), she'd just prefer that happen in private.

It might seem strange while living with easily the most handsome man she’d ever met (Finnick was vain, but honestly, she didn’t blame him; if she were that attractive, Katniss would probably be the same), she couldn’t keep thoughts of her other roommate from sneaking in.

She had the worst crush on Peeta. Shamefully, he was who she thought of when she, ahh, took care of her own needs. It was so disrespectful of their friendship, but Katniss couldn’t stop herself from fantasizing about him.

Speaking of which-

There was Peeta too, yawning against the back of his hand as he slumped down onto the stool beside her.

“Morning,” Katniss told him softly, touching his elbow in greeting.

He smiled at her, shifting on the stool to get comfortable before pushing an errant strand of wavy hair out of his face.

Katniss wished she could do that herself- she had such an urge to touch Peeta’s hair. His blond waves were so fluffy-looking and soft, and he hadn’t had a haircut in ages; his barber shop was shut down for the pandemic.

She could tell the length was starting to get on Peeta’s nerves, although he didn't say it. He typically kept his hair just long enough to be manageable, not those long, wavy bangs that were currently hanging in his eyes. Katniss would ask him if he wanted one of her ponytail holders to pull it back, but the idea of him with a douchey man-bun was revolting.

Finnick turned around, squinting disapprovingly around the protein drink he held up to his lips as he studied Peeta carefully. “You need a haircut,” he finally said, ”that mop looks terrible.”

”Thanks a lot, Captain Obvious,” Katniss grumbled, scowling at the side of Finnick’s ridiculously handsome face. He was so annoying with his fastidiousness sometimes: not everyone was that worried about their appearance.

Peeta took his teasing in stride, though. “Yeah, but what am I supposed to do? We're quarantining. Besides- I’m working from home. Who’s going to see me? Just the rest of my department at our Zoom meetings, and they look as shitty as I do. Seneca Crane has two inches of white hair coming in at his roots.”

“I bet that’s a look,” Johanna quipped.

Peeta’s supervisor was an asshat of epic proportions.

She picked up her travel mug. “I gotta go; I have to be in early today.”

“You don’t look shitty,” Katniss reassured Peeta once Johanna left.

“No, he’s right,” he sighed, crossing his arms on the counter and burying his face there.

Katniss shot a scowl at Finnick as he breezed by; he winked at her and she rolled her eyes. The back of Finnick’s towel was slipping off, giving her a view of spray-tanned ass cheek as he headed back to his room to get ready for work himself.

“Covid certainly isn’t stopping Finnick from keeping up with his salon-services, is it?” she muttered once he was gone. “That’s ridiculous, even from him.”

“I think he’s got a thing going on with the tech,” Peeta told her, looking up again. “Annie, I think he said her name is? If they’re fucking the way he insinuates like they are-”

Katniss felt her whole body flame as that word slipped from his mouth. Peeta didn’t swear very often, so that made it a thousand times hotter when it happened. She could feel her body tensing from one pass of the word fuck from his lips. It didn’t hurt that they were alone, and Peeta was grinning conspiratorially at her.

When he leaned closer, she could feel the warmth from his body and smell his soap-and-Peeta-scent. It was too distracting-

“Katniss?” He was staring at her questioningly. His lips turned up in a little smile, and his eyes crinkled in the corners the way they did when he was genuinely amused by something and not just being polite- something he thankfully never did to her. “Are you alright? Lost you there for a minute, I think.”

“Sorry. ” Katniss had been so distracted by his nearness she’d zoned out on the tail end of what he was saying. ”Finnick and Annie are fucking-” Her brain was absolutely not keeping up with her mouth.

She had to get out of here before something stupid came out.

“Yeah, just um; I’ve got to go use the bathroom,” Katniss said, sliding off the barstool like her seat was burning, making her escape.

“Are you going to be around today?” Peeta asked as she inched away from him.

He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and started scrolling, as she held her breath. Finally, after what felt like tense silence to her but didn’t seem to phase him a bit, Peeta glanced up, waiting for her answer.

“I’m not working today.”

“I might need your help with something later,” he said, glancing down at his phone screen again. “If you don’t mind.”

She let out the breath she’d been holding. “No, that’s okay. Just come find me when you need me.”

“Thanks.”

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A few hours later, a little rat-a-tat-tat sounded on her bedroom door.

“Katniss?” Peeta called from the hallway, “are you busy now? I was wondering if I could get your help.”

Katniss sat up on her bed, tossing aside the book she’d spent the last hour or so trying to read after running to her room to hide. She stood up, straightening her clothes as she walked towards the door. Peeta was on the other side when she opened it, grinning at her, wearing boxer briefs and an undershirt.

“Hey,” Katniss said, crossing her arms over her chest. She tried to sound casual and not at all like she had to force herself to keep her eyes on his face.

But then, she couldn’t take her eyes off his face because something was different-

“I’m giving myself a haircut,” Peeta explained, running a hand through the blond waves on top of his head. The hair around his face was shorter and somewhat even, but the back still long- it didn’t look like he’d done anything to it at all. “Would you help me do the rest? I’m afraid I’ll screw it up if I try and finish it on my own.”

“I’ve never cut anyone’s hair-” that and the fact that she probably wouldn't be able to breathe standing that close to him.

“You’ll do a better job than I would, at least,” Peeta reassured her. “Besides, if it’s awful, I’ll just shave my head and start over.”

Katniss frowned at him. “Like that’s not putting any pressure on me!” The last thing she wanted him to do was shave his head- that would be a disgrace to such a nice head of hair.

“Maybe I’ll just shave it anyway. If you don’t help me, I will. I can’t walk around with a mullet.”

His hair was a baby mullet right now- she had to agree. At the least, it looked like that dark-haired guy from Hall & Oates.

”It’s just hair. Besides, what harm can it do? It’ll grow back,” he went on.

Katniss frowned at him for a minute, to no avail. When he refused to give her an easy out, she sighed resignedly. “Fine. I’ll try it.”

“Atta-girl,” Peeta cheered her on as she followed him down the hall to the bathroom. “What harm can it do?”

kpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkp

What harm can it do? Oh, a hell of a lot, to her nerves, at least.

When they reached the bathroom, Peeta sat down on the closed toilet lid and promptly reached behind his back, pulling his shirt off in that one-armed way guys have that made his biceps and shoulders and abs bunch before tugging the material over his head.

Dear god, give her strength-

And then he just sat there smiling up at her like it was perfectly normal to be hanging out in his underwear, waiting for her to put her hands on him.

Not that she was putting her hands on Peeta per se, only his hair.

Katniss let out a shaky breath. How was she going to do this? To cut his hair, she was going to have to stand just inches away from him like that. At least if she were doing the back, his eyes wouldn’t be on her, she told herself. That was some consolation.

“I don’t want to get any hair on my clothes,” Peeta explained with a shrug. “Maybe I should’ve got a trash bag or something to cover up with.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Katniss said, berating for getting so flustered. She reminded herself to breathe and, under no circumstances, let him see the way he was affecting her. They were friends- this wasn’t so outrageous. She was the one with hangups about semi-nudity. “Where are the scissors?” she asked, looking away from him.

“On the counter,” he said, indicating the sink with a tilt of his head.

She walked over to grab them.

“Do you have a bra on?” Peeta asked casually, just as her hands closed around the scissors.

It was the worst timing; Katniss nearly stabbed herself, trying to correct her grip on them when she dropped them in surprise. “What?”

“I can’t always tell- you’re not very big-”

Katniss frowned down at her hand. She briefly considered stabbing a particular roommate, who was currently lounging around in his underwear, in the side of his neck with the scissors.

That was a shitty thing to say about her chest- it fucking hurt, actually, sending her confidence in an immediate nosedive down the staircase of self-respect. Okay, yeah, her breasts weren’t massive by any means, but she was petite; what kind of a jerk thought he had the right to say something like that? She was just fine, proportion-wise-

Peeta laughed nervously. “I’m an idiot, Katniss. What I meant to say was you’re perky. I can’t always tell whether you’re wearing a bra or not.”

“Why exactly are we talking about my breasts?” She managed to get out, between frustration and, yes, uncertainty, because she could never un-know that Peeta had spent enough time thinking about her breasts to describe them as “perky,” and that meant he’d been thinking about her, right?

Did that mean he was looking at her the same way she looked at him? Katniss doubted that- she’d think she’d notice, but still.

Either way, she told herself, this had to be a personal all-time-low for her.

But then again, it was Peeta, and he was her friend. And friends could joke around with each other about breasts, right? It didn’t have to be a huge deal.

Right?

“If you are wearing a bra, you could take your shirt off. I figured you might not want to get hair all over your clothes either,” Peeta ran a hand through his hair again. He seemed nervous, which wasn’t like him. “I’m not trying to get you naked or anything-“

Katniss was sure her heart was going to explode out of her chest at any minute, a ticking time bomb waiting for one more word or action from Peeta. She was so confused.

But then she relaxed- she had on a sports bra; it was no less than what she would wear when they went running together, so she peeled her shirt over her head without thought. Why not- it was still more than Johanna or Finnick would wear on any given day, and it’d never bothered those two.

Katniss picked the scissors up off the counter again before stepping towards Peeta. “Any requests?” she asked, clicking them a little, trying to lighten the mood.

He turned around, presenting her with his back, and she didn’t think she’d imagined the way his eyes lingered on her chest before he moved. She watched the rise and fall of Peeta’s shoulders as he shrugged. “No, just try to get it a little shorter. It doesn’t have to be perfect.”

A loaded sort of silence descended on them as she assessed the back of Peeta’s head. The only sounds in the room were slightly strangled breathing coming from him; she kind of reveled in the sound- it meant he had to be at least a little affected by her proximity, too.

Finally, Katniss began. She grasped a handful of his hair to get a feel for it. His blond strands were soft, curling around her fingers, and when she grazed her nails across his scalp accidentally, Peeta shuddered.

“That tickled a little,” his voice sounded strained. Katniss could make out the rough bobbing-up-and-down of Peeta’s Adam’s apple when he swallowed.

She continued cutting his hair in silence, little snips here and there. She trimmed it slowly, savoring the moment, trying to get it short around the edges, being extra careful around the back of his ears and the base of his neck.

The air in the room grew more charged between them as the clock on the wall ticked the seconds by, still the only sound to be heard.

Katniss found that the ever-present awareness of him made it difficult to speak. There was a trace of yesterday’s cologne on his skin, and standing so close to him, looking at the arms and shoulders and back that she wanted nothing more than to run her hands over was driving her crazy. The temptation was so strong- what would he do if she buried her face in his hair or kissed that space between his shoulder blades that called to her?

“I think I’m all done,” she told Peeta after fighting off the temptation. She hardly recognized the sound of her voice, shaky and low as she forced her hands back, curling them tightly into fists to keep from touching him.

Katniss stepped back, giving him some room to turn around. She crossed her arms over her stomach anxiously while Peeta got up and walked to the mirror. He brushed past her quickly, but it wasn’t fast enough to ignore the tingle at the place of contact.

Katniss placed one hand over her throat. She was freaking out- her pulse was beating so rapidly she was sure it was visible beneath the thin skin at her neck.

When Peeta reached the mirror, he glanced at himself while she watched him in the mirror’s reflection. The color in his face was high, but he was so fair-skinned he couldn’t hide a blush to save his life. After the agonizing silence went on longer than she could stand, Katniss looked away and reached for her shirt. She needed to get away from him before she did something stupid like kiss him or cry.

“I think it might be a little uneven in the front.” Peeta stopped her, his eyes meeting hers in the mirror when she looked up. “Would you take a little more off the front for me?”

She nodded. She still didn’t trust herself to speak.

Peeta sat down on the toilet seat again- but this time, he faced her head-on without moving. She inched closer and closer, and when she got close enough that her legs were just grazing his knees, it sent a shiver through her body.

He took her hand, and widening his legs, urged her to stand between them.

Katniss moved closer, refusing to look below his shoulders; she was unsure what she would do if the outline of an erection were visible against the material of his grey boxer briefs. She had an almost-sickening (because the possibilities excited and scared her in equal measure) feeling that was precisely what she’d find.

“You’re so little, I didn’t know if you could reach me standing over there,” he explained. His voice was husky. The sound was as sexy as hell.

Katniss wondered how Peeta was taking her silence as she moved closer to him. She was on edge and hot all over. With the first puff of his breath on her skin, though, she shivered. Staring down at the top of his head and trying to control her breathing, she debated where exactly she should start cutting this time. Eventually, she just started taking tiny snips out of the crown and sides of his hair.

Katniss had no idea where any of this tension was going to take them and no close what his hair would look like, either.

It was almost impossible to focus on what she was doing with the way his warm breath fluttered against her body.

It felt like his eyes were boring into her skin.

Torture: that’s what this would get labeled under, she decided. Shirtless time with Peeta spent giving him a haircut would be a prominent feature in her future spank bank. And unlike her other moments, at least this part of it was real. Her brain could fill in the fantasy portion long after it was over.

Peeta sighed, and the sound was different, almost resigned. Before she had a chance to say something to him, though, his hands were at her waist, just above the band of her sleep shorts. She froze mid-snip, scissors dangling awkwardly between her fingers.

“Katniss?”

“Hmm,” she said, because this felt so good it couldn’t be real, and if she said something, it might be over. Also, her brain pretty much felt like mashed potatoes: fluffy and warm, but not possessing any higher-reasoning ability.

“Is this okay?” he asked, fingers just pressing into her skin.

She couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything but look down at his familiar blue eyes.

Peeta stared at her, and there was something there distinctly begging her not to reject him. He finally dropped his hands when the silence dragged on for too long- it was only then Katniss found her voice again.

“No, don’t stop. Please.”

It must’ve been just enough encouragement because he was pressing his lips against the space between her breasts before she could blink. “Oh god,” she whispered into the top of his head. His lips on her body had to be the best thing she’d ever felt, soft and warm.

Peeta pulled her closer, and she let him take the scissors out of her hand when he reached for them. It was probably a good thing- she’d forgotten she was still holding them.

He dropped the scissors on the bathroom floor, and they made a clinking sound hitting the tile, barely audible over their heavy breathing.

Peeta trailed his lips up her neck and across her jaw while his hands were at her hips and thighs, caressing her smooth skin, pushing up beneath the flimsy material of her sleep shorts.

Finally, their lips met, and Katniss wrapped her arms around Peeta’s neck, melting against him- at least as much as she could while he was sitting on a toilet, anyway. But who cared where they were? He was kissing her, she was kissing him, and it was all glorious.

It wasn’t long before things grew heated between them; the flood of repressed longing came out in a rush of touches and words:

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long-”

“You have no idea-”

More kissing, more hands moving everywhere.

“Do you want to go somewhere else?” he asked, finally.

Katniss nodded, breathing against his mouth. Things were moving fast, and she didn’t want to stop, but they probably shouldn’t be doing this here. Maybe somewhere else that wasn’t too far away, though. “Shower?” she asked.

“Fuck, please. Yes,” he muttered, standing up quickly. He caught her off guard but was then walking her backward, taking her with him, stumbling towards the shower. When they made it there, still upright, Peeta reached around the curtain and turned the water on. Katniss pulled her bra off, and her shorts and underwear quickly followed behind as he shoved his underwear down his legs.

And then they were both bare. How had this happened so fast?

But she didn’t have much of a chance to dwell on things because Peeta’s naked body was pressed against hers, sending sensation through her every limb, every inch. Not to mention, his hands were everywhere.

She loved his hands.

“Let’s get in,” Katniss mumbled against his mouth, just keeping herself from kissing him long enough that they wouldn’t end up horizontal on the bathroom floor.

After checking the temperature, Peeta yanked the curtain back and pulled Katniss inside the shower, beneath the warm spray with him. She expected something fast and hard to happen because they were both so worked up, but instead, the act of getting into the shower slowed them down. They were still kissing, wet and slow and deep, until Peeta backed away from kissing her long enough to lean his forehead against hers and stare down at her.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” he finally said, his hand trailing up her thigh, his touch so inexplicably gentle, worshipful. Peeta slid up her belly, stopping to cup her breasts. He kissed her deeply before running his thumb across her nipple. “You’re sexy everywhere, but these are spectacular.”

Katniss gasped against his mouth when he pinched her lightly. “Not too small?” she asked, half-laughing at her question. With the way Peeta seemed enthralled with her, she wasn’t concerned. It was quite the opposite. She’d never felt so comfortable or confident with a guy before.

“That was so stupid-”

“It’s fine.” She let her hand skate down his hip, and he pressed his lower half against her thigh in response.

“I’m just teasing you,” Katniss said, as she ran her lips down at his neck, sighing against his wet skin. His body was gorgeous- not hours spent working out at the gym perfect like Finnick’s, but because he was real and muscular, and it was Peeta, and she’d wanted him forever.

She couldn’t believe he wanted her too. “You wouldn’t just do this with just any girl who cut your hair, would you- spectacular breasts or no?”

“Why do you think I asked you to take your shirt off?”

“So, you were trying to get me naked!”

They did laugh then, lips and teeth bumping together as he kissed her. It only lasted until his hand moved down between her thighs, cupping her sex. Katniss stood on her toes and kissed him deeply, and he took the cue to delve further when she widened her stance. He slid his fingers between her lips, touching her where she was swollen and achy for him.

“You feel so good,” Peeta said, stroking lightly, “you’re so wet.” His fingers brushed against her clit, giving her a teasing little swipe around it that made Katniss bite her lip. “Feel good?” he asked.

“Yes,” she mumbled, closing her eyes and letting her head fall back against the shower wall.

Peeta kissed the side of her neck as he touched her, sliding his fingers through her folds and around her opening, dipping inside of her before pulling out to rub a little more firmly with each forward pass, until her hips were chasing after his fingers each time he moved them away. Finally, tired of his teasing, Katniss scrabbled at his hand, squeezing his wrist to let him know he needed to stay there until further notice.

Soon, with Peeta’s wrist still in a death grip between her thighs, his fingers rubbing quickly at her nerve bundle in an on-again, off-again motion, Katniss cried softly, dropping his wrist when she began to climax. She slumped against his body as he thrust two thick fingers deep inside of her, burying her nose against his chest as she pulsed around them. Peeta kept pumping his fingers in and out of her, fucking her with them.

Katniss was still catching her breath, mouth hanging open against his shoulder where beads of moisture left his skin slick to the touch when he pulled his fingers out of her. She looked up at him when she could focus again, her lids heavy, her body heavy and muscles relaxed from release.

Peeta was staring down at her, his gaze intense.

“What do you like?” Katniss asked shyly. She straightened up the best she could, a little wobbly on her feet and wondering exactly how it was that people had shower sex.

Peeta cut her words off with a quick kiss, and while she was kissing him back, he took her hand and wrapped it around his cock. “Let’s just go with this, okay?” he said, his eyes searching hers. “I’m not in any big hurry, are you?”

This part felt like Peeta too (and she didn’t mean his very hard, very thick cock in her hand); the not pushing her, not being in any kind of a rush to move things fast. Katniss knew he was a methodical guy, and the thought of what that could mean sex-wise with him was kind of thrilling.

Absolutely nothing seemed wrong with just fooling around for now. It made Katniss’s core ache all over again, just running her hand up and down his shaft rubbing her thumb across the broad head of his cock.

Her jaw went slack as she pumped Peeta to completion- it was better than any fantasy she’d ever had about him. His eyes were closed, one hand on her breast and one at her hip, when his face contorted in ecstasy. She watched his abdomen flutter and felt his cock tense. He throbbed in her hand as his cum came spurting out over the top of her fist like a fountain. Peeta moaned her name as he came apart, his hips rocking in time with the pulsing of his cock. It was easily the sexiest thing she’d ever seen.

And the best part was Katniss knew they had the apartment to themselves all day.

She had every intention of taking advantage of it. “Come on,” she said to Peeta, turning off the water and flinging the curtain back once he recovered, “my bedroom, now.”

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #everlarkbirthdaydrabbles #everlarkbirthdaygifts #fan fic #by endlessnightlock

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