#lots of swearing but i got used to that pretty quick

[rabbidbunwy]

🔞Hawks x reader| Minors DNI| NSFW WARNING 🔞

You handle Keigo as he's on breeding season

Contents: Hawks x Anon! reader-both adult-explicit content-crampie-many rounds-moaning-breeding-smut-cumming-cute-fluff-aftercare-teasing-cuddle-whines-teasing-lots n' lots of cuddles towards the end-cheesy

i'm no english native so sorry for some mistakes

please reblog 🔁 and like❤️

P.s: i feel back again in my BNHA phase ahhhhhh (」°ﾛ°)｣

i love my bird man (⸝⸝ ˊᗜˋ⸝⸝ ) 💕

@muzansslxt @candy69gurl @kiwicopia @satorkive @ponderingmoonlight

“God damn…” Keigo says, his voice coming out as a low groan as he buries his face into your neck. His arms are wrapped around you, holding you to his chest as he tries to catch his breath. His wings are wrapped around the both of you in a protective layer of feathers, making it feel as if you’re in your own personal bubble. His hand slowly moves …until it’s right on your stomach, his fingers gently tracing the skin. “You still okay, sunshine?” The winged hero asks, sounding slightly breathless.

You nodded feeling stuffed "I'm…okay..just full" “Yeah you’re very full” he jokes, giving your stomach a soft pat. He doesn’t bother to move, and instead just keeps you cuddled up in his chest. Wings still wrapped around the two of you, keeping you both nice and safe.

“Still feel a little overstimulated?” Keigo jokingly asks, pressing gentle kisses to your neck.

“Keigo…” you whined, feeling your face burn. “Not so loud-“ He was pretty loud. Too loud. His voice echoed in the bedroom pretty loudly, your neighbors could probably hear him if they were trying.

“I’m supposed to be the one on top…“ you tried to complain. You hadn’t meant for the night to end like this. Not when he was so needy…

“Mmm…I know. But I’m a needy birdie right now.” He said with a pout. He nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck, holding you down on his lap. “I’m in my breeding season, babe. You know how I get.”

“You weren’t supposed to get needy today. You have work tomorrow.” You complained as his arms wrapped around you tighter, holding you against his chest.He whined, burying his face into your neck.Your cheeks were burning. “You already came four times…I’m tired.” The night had gotten long, and you were exhausted. Keigo wasn’t tired though - he was energized.

“We have time for one more round, come onnn.” He whined, pouting once again. He began trying to kiss your neck, nibbling at your skin. “It’ll be quick, I promise.” A complete lie; he never had a quick round.

“Come on baby…just one more.” He repeated, giving your neck another gentle bite. His arms were around you, holding you in place on his lap. “I swear it’ll be quick, then we can go to sleep…then in the morning I can give you cuddles before I have to leave.”

He was a good multitasker. Trying to persuade you for a fifth round while also giving you gentle bites on your neck. “Please, sunshine” he said, using that nickname he always called you. “One more round, then we’ll go to sleep. I won’t try and wake you up.”

“I’m exhausted, birdbrain. We’ve been going at it for hours now, I’m tired.” You protested, a pout on your face. “Four times is enough. No more.”

“Just one moree…” he whined, giving you puppy eyes as his wings wrapped tighter around the two of you. “Pleaseee” he repeated, giving another little bite on your neck. “I promise, one more and we’ll sleep. Then tomorrow morning I’ll give you cuddles before I go to work.”

“Mmm…” you hummed, your cheeks flushed. He was using his puppy dog eyes, the one he knew you couldn’t resist. “Fine…” you said reluctantly in defeat. “Just one more, okay?”

“Yes!” He said excitedly, planting a kiss on your cheek. “Thank you, thank you.” He was like a child that just got candy. He’d been begging you for a while now for this fifth round, but eventually you had caved in.

He quickly went back to nipping your neck, his hands moving around your waist. “You’re the best” he mumbled, beginning to kiss down your jawline. “You’re so tired and yet you still agreed.”

“You’re a big baby, you know that?” You said with a fond eye roll. “Such a needy birdie all the time.” You reached a hand around to ruffle his hair, messing up his blonde locks.

“Says the one who says yes to my needy wants, he teased back, returning to the little bites on your neck. “You’re the one who can’t say no to me when I give you puppy eyes.”

“G-God… you always know how to get what you want” you complained, your body tensing slightly as his pace began to quicken. “And I always give in…”

He gives a chuckle, his hands running up your torso to your chest. “You love it when I’m needy, though” he says, nipping your earlobe. “And I love when you give in” he added with a cocky sort of grin.

You moaned again as you felt closer "Keigo...amhn" “God…I love the sounds you make, sunshine” he says a playful smirk. “They’re my favorite…right next to you saying my name” his pace quickens once more, his breath becoming more labored.

“Say my name” he demanded, leaving another bite mark on your neck. He was beginning to feel his own high approaching; that familiar feeling in his lower belly that signaled his climax.

“Come on, darling” he said, his voice a bit breathless. “Say my name. I want to hear you say it.” His hands had moved back to your hips, holding you in place as he continued his pace. “Come on, sunshine.”

“Keigo..” you gasped out, feeling a heat begin to build in your stomach. “God…Keigo-” you repeated, your voice trailing off into a moan as he hit a certain spot. Something in him seemed to snap when you groaned his name. He suddenly let out a low groan himself, his hands tightening in their grip on your hips. “Again” he ordered, his breath coming out in short gasps. “Say it again. More.” You did as asked, letting his name pass through your lips again and again as his pace quickened behind you. “K-Keigo..” You repeated, beginning to reach your climax. “God…I’m so close…”

He groaned again, his wings shaking slightly in response. “M-Me too….g-god, me too” he moaned, letting out a low whine. “I’m close….say my name more, darling. I want to hear it more.”

“Keigo-“ You kept repeating his name over and over, feeling your climax approaching. “I’m gonna cum...I’m gonna-” You cut yourself off with another loud moan, unable to finish the rest of your sentence. “M-Me too-” he gasped, his arms pulling you against his chest in a tight embrace. “M-Me too, sunshine..” He groaned out. “Come with me, darling.” He managed to get out.

You let out a gasp as your climax washes over you, your body tensing against the winged hero. “K-Keigo..” you moaned, squeezing your eyes shut as you rode out your high. You could feel him twitch behind you as he continued to hold you against his chest, his wings wrapping a bit tighter around the two of you as he came.

He pressed another kiss to your neck, holding you tightly against his chest as he came down from his high. His breath was coming out in ragged gasps, his wings shaking slightly as he tried to steady his breathing. He kept you pressed up against him, arms wrapped tightly around your waist and one of his legs hooked over yours to keep you stuck.

“God..” he said with a breathy chuckle, burying his face into the crook of your neck. “That was a damn good one, sunshine.” He began placing soft kisses on your skin, planting them down your neck.

His wings were fully puffed up again, feathers all loose and messy again as a result of your caresses. He loved being touched on the wings whenever he was like this; being an avian with wings gave him a special kind of sensitivity to touch when it came to his wings.

He subconsciously let out a low noise in the back of his throat when you snuggled against his chest, sounding similar to how a bird coos.

Seeing his wings like that filled your heart with a warm feeling. He looked adorable with messy wings like this; like a giant bird with his feathers puffed up.

The noise that came out of his mouth definitely made you smile, and you let a soft laugh. “You really do act like a bird, you know that?” You teased fondly, running a hand through his fluffy wings.

He gave a huff at your comment, but it wasn’t in agitation. “Shut up” he grumbled, resting his chin on your head. He leaned into your hand, silently encouraging you to keep your hand in his wing.

You laughed again, beginning to slowly preen his wing feathers. He was like a cat with how he liked his wings being touched after having a good round.

“You like this, don’t you?” You teased, running your fingers down the feathers. “You like being pampered like an overgrown bird.”

He grumbled again in response, his grip around you tightening a bit. He did like it, but he would be damned if he admitted that fact out loud. “And so what if I do?” He mumbled, burying his face further into your hair.

You smirked as you scracthed in beetween the feathers "this?" He let out a soft whine when you scratched between his feathers, his wings shaking a bit. “God damn it…..” he muttered, burying his face in your neck. Of course you’d figured out a weakness already.

“Look at you, looking all pathetic now” you teased, continuing your scratching. “A great and powerful hero, brought down by a little preening.”

He whined again, wings beginning to droop from their upright position. He couldn’t help it; his muscles just went all loose whenever you preened his feathers. “Mmmm…st-stop. It’s embarrassing..” he mumbled, face still buried in your neck. you take a hold of a feather tenderly caressing it,feeling the soft texture of it "i like it" He let out a small gasp when you tugged gently on his feather, his body tensing slightly. “H-Hah…” He muttered, feeling chills go down his spine. Damn you, you found his most sensitive spot.

“D-Damn it…stop it. That’s not fair-“ he whined, his wings twitching once again. “H-How’d you find that so damn quickly….”

“I’m just observant” you teased, gently tugging on another feather. “You make all these cute noises when I touch your feathers, especially here.” You reached up to scratch between his feathers once again, hearing the whine he made in response.

This was absolutely not fair. You had managed to find yet another weak spot of his already, and he hated how good it felt.

“Mmmm…” he whined, wings shivering once again. “God…stop it..”

“Why would I stop though?” You ask with a smirk, tugging on another feather. “It’s so much fun to get those cute noises out of you, birdboy.”

He pouted at the comment, letting out a huff. He knew he looked absolutely pathetic right now, but he didn’t care. Being pampered by you made too many happy chemicals go through his brain.

“You’re evil, you know that?” He grumbled, wings trembling once more.

“You enjoy it though.” You mused, scratching softly between his feathers once again. Damn he loved that feeling. “And you’re not even trying to stop me, so clearly it isn’t all that bad.”

He grumbled once again, knowing that you were right. He could totally stop you from doing this if he really wanted to.

But he really didn’t want to, because it felt way too damn good.

He kept his face buried in your neck, wings trembling and twitching with every scratch. “Stop being so goddamn observant..” he muttered.

“No can do, birdbrain.” You teased, continuing with your scratching. You loved having this effect on him; seeing him act so pathetic and needy. “You’re just so easy to read.”

He let out a little whine, wings shuddering once again. God, you were going to wreck him at this rate.

“I hate you…” he mumbled into your neck. “You’re absolutely horrible and mean.”

“And yet you love me anyways.” You said with a smirk, tugging on another feather. You couldn’t deny it; this was a guilty pleasure of yours. Seeing him act like this, so needy and messy from just a little feather preening.

He let out a whine again in response, a shiver going down his spine. Damn you really were going to wreck him, you weren’t holding back in the slightest.

“God…you’re killing me here..” he whimpered, wings trembling from all the stimulation.

“Oh I’m fully aware” you teased, scratching softly between his feathers once more. “And I’m enjoying it too, because you’re my big tough birdie, but you crumble like paper in my hands when I just give you a little pampering.”

He let out a noise that was a mix of a whine and a moan, his wings shaking from all the stimulation. God, he was so weak to your caresses.

“Mmmn..god…why are you so damn good at this..” he mumbled, wings shivering under your touch.

“I’m observant, remember?” You said with a little chuckle, tugging once again on his sensitive feathers. “I notice you shiver every time I touch your wings like this, and the noises you make. They’re kind of adorable if you ask me.”

He let out a small whine as you tugged on his feathers again, wings trembling yet again. Damn, he really couldn’t handle it when you touched him here. His normally cocky and confident demeanor completely unraveled when you touched his wings like this.

“Mnn…s-stop calling me adorable..” he mumbled in response, face still buried in your neck.

“Why should I?” You teased, scratching between the feathers once more. “You do act adorable though; shivering and whining whenever I touch your wings…it’s cute, but I’m also enjoying how easily I can make the number two hero fall apart just by touching his wings.”

He let out another little whine, wings shaking again as you continued your ministrations. God, you could be so cruel when you wanted to be.

“God damn itttt…” he whined. “Stop making me sound so pathetic..”

You snuggle on his neck hinaling his scent "you're my birdie,my birdbrain" you cooed

He couldn’t stop himself from shivering slightly when you snuggled against his neck, letting out a little chirp and whining again. Damn, he hated (but loved) how easily you could get him to act all needy and whiny like this.

“Hnn…say that again..” he said quietly, burying his face in your hair once more.

“Mmm..” you hummed, nuzzling against his neck. “You’re my birdie, my cute little birdbrain.” You repeated, a smile tugging at your lips.

It was kind of adorable seeing him like this, all whiney and needy after you preened his feathers. Like a little puppy all riled up after their belly was scratched.

He let out another small whine, wings shuddering from your affectionate words and all the preening you had done. The way you called him your birdie did things to his heart, and it made his chest feel all fuzzy.

God, when you said stuff like that it made his heart do backflips.

You kept nuzzling against his neck softly, repeating the same affectionate nick names for him over and over again. He was just too cute right now, all whiney and clingy after you gave him just a tad bit of caressing.

“My birdie..my birdbrain” you repeated, continuing to nuzzle against his skin.

You felt relaxed as you snuggled and cuddle him,before you pepper kiss his cheek.

He let out another small chirp in response when you pepper kissed his cheek, nuzzling against you once more. Feeling you snuggle against him and cuddle against his side made his heart thump against his chest. Goddamn you were so affectionate.

He hummed in content, wings relaxing against his back as you gave him kisses.

You continued to press kisses on his skin, enjoying the flustered but happy expression on his face. Seeing him all flustered and whiny like this because of a few compliments and some caresses was adorable.

You nuzzled against his neck once again, resting your head against his chest.

He wrapped his arms around your waist once more, pulling you closer into him. He couldn’t help being clingy, especially like this. Being able to hold you in his arms like this after a good round of….“activities”, along with all the preening, left him feeling all clingy and touchy.

His heartbeat was steady against your ear, a thumping and calming sound.

© rabbidbunwy all rights reserved. do not copy, repost, translate, or modify my work without my permission. thank you for reading and supporting my work

[zephyrchama]

(Mentions/descriptions of minor injuries, present and past.)

“There, all good.”

“Thanks, Satan.”

Your leg looked much better now that it had been disinfected and bandaged. Not that it was in bad shape to begin with.

Anyone would have thought a dire medical emergency occurred by the way everybody had leaped into action when you fell. Six of the brothers somehow managed to carry you together - one for each limb and another two on the sides to support your back - because they couldn’t pick just one person to help you back to the classroom.

It was incredibly embarrassing. You closed your eyes to avoid making eye contact with any of the other students, but you still heard the hallway whispers and Thirteen’s loud laughter.

Once back inside, Lucifer immediately evacuated his seat behind the podium at the front of the room. You were placed down like a precious glass ornament. Each brother played a different role in patching you up, but you would have been fine on your own.

“This cut kind of reminds me of one I got as a kid.” You twisted your leg around a few times to look it over. “It’s in the same spot.”

Mammon leaned against the back of the chair and grabbed your shoulders. “Are you tellin’ me you cut your leg before?”

“…yes?”

“First time I’ve heard that.” Beelzebub frowned.

Satan nodded thoughtfully, hand on chin, “you’ve never told us this before.”

“Yeah, ‘cuz I just remembered it.” It happened so long ago that you completely forgot.

Asmodeus buried his face in his hands. “How could you be so irresponsible?”

“I was a kid! Kids get scrapes all the time. I probably got it the same way, too.”

“You fell? Well… At least it didn’t scar.”

“Asmo, how d’ya know that?” Mammon asked.

“Because I know every inch of their skin very intimately.” Asmodeus smirked.

Mammon gripped your shoulders tighter. “Ok! Well! So do I!” he growled.

Leviathan came to sit on the floor next to you, looking worried. He fiddled with your pants leg to make sure the hem wouldn’t roll down over your bandage. “So there were other times you got hurt as a kid?”

“I mean, yeah? Bruised my arm pretty badly one time, right here.” You pointed to the spot.

“How come you never told us?” Belphegor asked. He was craning his head up to look at you while laying on the table, which Lucifer hadn’t noticed until that moment. The eldest gave him a push.

Belphegor muttered some choice words and slunk off to get a chair of his own, which he relocated closer to you. It screeched loudly as he dragged it along the floor. Beelzebub just stared and the others flinched, but Satan and Lucifer looked ready for violence until the youngest finally plopped down.

“We’re supposed to know everything about you,” he stated.

“Since when?”

“Since forever,” Leviathan was quick to clarify. “You have to tell us everything, and don’t spare any details.” His sentence ended there, but you swear you heard “the lore…” whispered almost imperceptibly.

“You better not be holdin’ back on us.” Mammon shifted a bit. He appeared to be getting tired of standing, but didn’t want to give up his prime real estate by your side.

“So I have to tell you everything? Like… when a butterfly poked me in the eye?”

A couple of them winced.

“Did it hurt?” Asmodeus asked.

“Did you tear it apart?” Belphegor asked.

“No, I think I was more shocked than anything? Maybe a little? And no!” You glanced down. “Levi, stop taking notes about me.”

Leviathan tutted and swiped out of the notes app on his D.D.D..

These demons and their theatrics. You couldn’t help but smile. “You’re all just overreacting, as usual.”

Satan shook his head. “No, I think you’re under-reacting. There are lots of dangers to humans in the Devildom. You could have gotten a nasty infection.”

Asmodeus gasped, “you could have lost your leg!”

”Or attracted predators,” Beelzebub added.

“On school grounds? Please. At worst I’d only attract Mephisto sniffing around for a scoop for his newspaper.”

Lucifer crossed his arms. You had faith he was going to say something sensible. “At least this isn’t as bad as that time you bruised your rear in the bath.”

There were seven scandalized gasps, including your own. “I told you that in confidence!”

Mammon was yelling in your ear, “how come I wasn’t the first to know about this? Hah?”

Asmodeus lept forward, “show me where!”

“Is it still there?” Satan inquired.

“Do you not trust us anymore?” Beelzebub looked deflated.

“That’s not it, Beel, I just- ack, Levi!” You shouted and shook your bandaged leg as the third-born clung to it desperately.

“It wasn’t my bathtub, right?” he practically sobbed. “Aahhh, I knew I needed to fill it with more pillows. Ahhhh.”

“Why would they be anywhere your tub?” Belphegor took hold of Levi’s collar and wretched him back. By the way he fell, it wouldn’t be odd for Leviathan to get a butt bruise, too.

“If it happened in your room, you would have been there,” you assured, knowing this would start another round of arguing.

The bell signaling next period mercifully rang. You’d never been happier for class to start again. All that was left was to get to your usual seat, which you stood up to do.

“Woah, whaddya think you’re doing?” Mammon put an arm in front of you.

“Going to my seat…?”

“You’re in it, sit back down.” Lucifer said.

You hesitated, giving them a puzzled look. For a moment you considered running past them. A simple cut wouldn’t hold you back, but there were no scenarios where you could outrun them without magic. You narrowed your eyes and sat down as the seven surrounded you again. You got a bad feeling.

“Just make it quick.”

Other students were already starting to filter into the room. You didn’t particularly want to be seen being relocated by these overly doting brothers. You grabbed the edge of the seat as four of them lifted it up, with the others griping about there being insufficient space for them to grab hold anywhere.

[chestersturniolo]

Priority

Matt Sturniolo x fem!reader

Summary; Once again you find yourself in an argument with your boyfriend matt, due to his often absence. but this time you decide to tell him how you truly feel.

Warnings; swearing,angst,fluff,use of pet names and y/n. maybe slightly suggestive. I thinkkkk that’s all :)))

—————————————————————————

Matt and I have known eachother for pretty much our whole lives. I’ve been best friends with him for as long as I can remember, and we have been in a relationship for almost 2 years now. 

It’s the weekend, and me and Matt are finally spending some quality time together. I say finally because it has become a very rare occurrence. It wasn’t so bad when we first started dating, but the more popularity he and his brothers gained, the less time I got to spend with him. And truthfully it had been taking a toll on me, and our relationship as a whole. 

We are currently laid on his bed, Matt is on his back, slightly propped against the headboard , whilst I’m curled into him,laying on my side,one leg spawled over both of his, and my head laying on his chest. His arm wrapped around my back pulling me in,impossibly close. We agreed on having a lazy day today, which I suggested. Because our time together had been so limited lately , I really just wanted to be alone-alone with him. Taking him in as much as I could. 

I’m so at peace right now, my head gently rising and falling along with his chest whilst he takes gentle breathes. The soft sound of his heartbeat.  I slowly start to drift off. Matt must have noticed my grip around him loosening slightly , as I feel his hand trail up my back and in my hair, laying gentle strokes. I glance up to see a soft grin on his face, 

“Sleepy baby?” He coos. Now taking a piece of my hair and twirling it, the sound of his rings lightly clinking together.

“Yeaa” I smile sleepily, laying my head back down on his chest. “I just feel so content right now, we haven’t spent a lot of time together recently… ya know?” 

Matt let’s out a soft sigh “I know sweetheart,I know” he says, hand still entwined in my hair, laying a kiss on the top of my head. “But we have all weekend together, just you and me okay?” A couple of beats of silence falls between us ,before Matt gently starts shifting further up the headboard. I sit up with him,propping myself up with my arm next to him.

“Okay?” Matt repeats, his hand reaching out and holding my jaw, thumb grazing my cheek. I melt into his hand. 

“Okay.” I smile lightly. He pulls me towards him, placing a gentle kiss on the tip of my nose, and another on my lips. He slowly moved down to my neck,littering kisses all over it. My eyes flutter shut, taking in the feeling as I cup my hand around the back of his neck.

 

But my eyes are quick to open, when there’s loud pounding on Matts door, making us jump apart slightly. I turn to look at the door,

“Matt! get your ass out here, we needa film this podcast ep” I hear Chris shout through the door, his footsteps fading back down the hallway. 

My head snaps back towards Matt. He is fully sat up, eyes widened. 

“Fuck” he mumbles.

“Tell me you’re joking” i huff, sitting up.

A familiar pit forms quickly in my stomach. This isn’t the first time that our time together has been cut short.And i know it definitely will not be the last. 

“I completely forgot we haven’t filmed for the pod- I’m so sorry, fuck!”

I take a deep disappointed breath..

All of the times that his work has come before me start raiding my mind, and my disappointment and upset quickly turn into anger. 

“Matt,sorry won’t cut it forever. How many times has this happened? How many?” 

my voice slightly raising. I see Matt get slightly taken aback by my tone. 

He lets out a breath “I know okay, but you know our posting schedule-“ 

I cut him off 

“Well clearly you don’t! What happened to “we have all weekend together just you and me”  Huh?…Matt we hardly spend any time together anymore”

Matt shifts his legs to the floor, now sitting on the edge of the bed, and runs a hand through his hair with a huff. 

A small silence lingers whilst I wait for his response. 

“I said I’m sorry!-” He starts, his building frustration clear in his tone.

“-And I know okay, we have this same exact conversation every time I have to film!- but it’s my fucking job y/n!” he strains. 

My anger builds, once again hearing the same excuse I’m given every time. By now I would usually just give up and storm away to sulk. But this time I decide to let my feelings out properly. I’m tired of this. The same back and forth rut we’ve been stuck in. The familiar feeling of being pushed to the side. 

“Matt, I can’t remember the last time we even spent a full day together, just us!” My voice risen. 

“When you’re not filming, you’re with your brothers talking about what to film! When we’re apart you don’t call, and your texts are dismissive. I feel like I’m putting in all the effort here and I-“

“MATT BRO!” 

I’m cut off by Chris banging on the door once again.

I let out a defeated sigh, and bury my face in my hands. 

I feel the bed shift, I glance up to see Matt now stood infront of me, a frustrated expression plastered on his face.

“Look, I have to go and film this episode. I’ll only be gone for about an hour. I’ll come straight back and we can figure this out then okay.” He states,emotionless. 

Once again I’m brushed aside. “whatever Matt” I speak barely above a whisper, but my attitude still prominent.

Matt let’s out a huff and runs his hand through his hair. I let my gaze fall to my lap, as I hear him turn and leave the room. The slight slam of his bedroom door making me squeeze my eyes shut. 

I sigh, laying myself down and staring at the ceiling. A familiar lump starts to form in my throat, tears of frustration and upset now starting to pool in my eyes. 

Our interaction starts to replay in my head,

I really want to work through this with him, I love him a lot, and all I wanted him to do was hear me out. And he left. As usual.

I decide to try and take a nap to fill the void of Matts absence. 

After tossing and turning for what feels like an eternity, I pull out my phone. After a while of mindlessly scrolling , I pull myself off the bed and take myself to the kitchen to grab a soda. On my way to the fridge ,my ears prick at he sound of mumbled echos coming from the stairs. I stop in my tracks. I can’t help myself, as I tiptoe over to the bottom of the stairs. I turn my head to try and hear the boys. A small silence falls, and I shake my head at myself. Eavesdropping? Really? I turn around to start making my way back to the kitchen, until the mention of my name snaps my body back round to its previous position. Eavesdropping it is. 

My heart rate quickens as I hear Matts faint voice. “It’s too much, it’s fucking ridiculous bro”

The distance between us making it hard make out the conversation, picking up mumbled statements from Matt- 

“I need a break” 

“I can’t deal with it anymore”

“I’m done” 

My breath hitches. Tears finding their way back to my eyes as my heart drops. He’s leaving me? I’ve stuck by his side through all of this. After everything we’ve been through he’s…leaving me???

I’m snapped out of my daze

“y/n?” I hear Matt softly call from the top of the stairs, traces of worry evident in his voice. 

My eyes flit up to meet Matts gaze. Tears now streaming down my face. 

Matts eyes widen slightly , “shit” he says under his breath. 

I quickly turn around and head to the stairs down to the front door. I can’t see his face right now, I need to get out. 

I hear Matts quick and heavy footsteps down the stairs, following behind me. 

“Y/N!” 

I don’t stop, I reach the front door and swing it open, running out into the rain. 

“Y/N, wait, please!!!” 

It doesn’t take long before Matt catches up to me ,grabbing my wrist firmly, stopping me in my tracks. 

I keep my gaze on the street ahead.

“Stop okay! talk to me, tell me what’s going on!?” he pleads breathlessly. His voice laced with panic. Silence falls between us, only the sounds of the rain hitting the ground around us.

Matt loosens his grip on my wrist. 

“hey,look at me” his tone now soft. Taking his free, ring clad hand to my chin, gently guiding my gaze to meet his. I stiffen at his touch, but I let my eyes examine his features. His now wet hair slightly falling over his eyes that are frantically searching my face for answers.

I pull away from his grip slowly, taking a step backwards. 

“W-we’re…over…” i utter, tears still streaming down my cheeks, the rainfall disguising them. 

I watch as Matts face falls. Eyebrows knitting together slightly.

“what?” he replies, voice barely audible. Chest starting to rise and fall faster.

“I-“ I start , before burying my face in my hands in an attempt to calm myself down. I take a few hitched breaths before slowly lifting my head to see Matts fingers once again raking through his sopping hair. his eyes are glossy, like he’s close to crying. I feel the pain in my heart deepen seeing his desperate,pleading expression. But swiftly remember why it’s plastered there in the first place. 

Taking another deep breath I tried again “I-I heard you upstairs talking to nick and chris”

Matts eyebrows furrow deeper , a puzzled expression now evident, but this quickly turns into an eyes widened look of realisation as things piece together in his mind. 

“y/n-“ he tried before I cut him off.

“You said you were done with me. That I’m too much. That I’m fucking ridiculous!” I recite his earlier statements back to him through soft sobs.

“I’m sorry I was harsh earlier,but I’m trying here Matt! I wanted to work through this but you’re obviously done with m-“ 

“y/n no baby no! listen,okay!” Matt pleads as he takes a step closer to me cupping my face with both hands. 

“you mean everything to me. I listened to what you said earlier, and you’re not wrong. I haven’t been a good boyfriend recently to say the least and I’m sorry for that-“ 

He pauses , grazing his thumb across my cheek.

“Our filming schedule has been way too intense, it’s been consuming me, I know. what you heard was me convincing Nick and Chris that it is fucking ridiculous , that it’s too much  and that I’m done with it-“ he rambles, now reciting his own words back to me again. In a completely different context. 

My jaw drops slightly as I listen. Matts hands now finding their way to my hips. 

“turns out Nick and Chris feel the same…we agreed on completely stopping the podcast, aswel as cutting back on Wednesday videos. y/n, sweetheart, YOU are my priority,I’ve let this come between us for way too long. No more…”

An unexplainable wave of relief washes over me as I take in his words. How could I have gotten it so twisted? 

“M-matt I’m so sorry I thou-“ I cut myself off, bringing a hand up to hold my face. 

“hey it’s okay,don’t be sorry” Matt assures, his voice light and comforting, as he peels my hand from my face.

“I can see how you would take it the way you did, but trust me when I say I would never do that. I won’t let you go , I love you too much” he says with a small smile on his lips, pulling me closer, our bodies now flush. 

I wrap my arms around his neck, still slightly processing what just happened. 

“I love you too” I whisper , a smile of my own now forming. Matt leans down, placing a soft ,long kiss on my lips. I turn my head slightly to deepen it, standing on my tippy toes. 

The rain still crashing down on us as the kiss became even more intense and passionate. It felt like we were in a movie scene. 

I feel Matts hands snake further around my waist, lifting me off of the ground. I break the kiss with a squeal as he spins us around , my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.

He lets out a soft chuckle 

“Come on baby,let’s get out of the rain hm?” 

I nod with a soft smile, as he sets off back to the house, still carrying me. I let my head fall into the crook of his neck. 

“How does a bath and movie night sound sweetheart? I’m all yours” he offers as he squeezes me close.

“it sounds perfect”

—————————————————————————

the death of cut the cameras

—————————————————————————

A/N - ahhh okay guys that was my first time ever writing something and I’m not sure how I feel🫣 lmk what you think! If you have any requests/Qs my anon ask is on ✨

- 𝑺𝒂𝒈𝒆 ♡

[writingmeraki]

hurt hearts — k.mg drabble.

❝ in which you learn mingyu has a big heart ( and chest—) and he's terribly hurt while you might just beat the shit out of him.

( or mingyu's heart was already yours before you even knew it )

pairing : secret!agent mingyu x secret!agent reader, acquaintances stage. genre : fluff, angsty. warnings : mentions of injuries, treating wounds ( inaccurate forgive me🙏) mingyu ( he's a warning ).

a/n : the double update as promised hehe also the pic is not even related to the drabble but I just had to use it yk?? thank you to @etherealyoungk for feeding my delusions. also this got angsty quite quick 😭 ???( might do a summer fic with this mingyu hehehe ) pls I was also like naurr why is it so sad suddenly but eh it's fine. take this as some sort of teaser for the full secret agent mingyu fic I guess! and yes I will never get fed up of writing these two <3 let me know what you think of this mwah 💌

word count : 2.7k

“Are you fucking stupid?!?”

Silence enveloped the room as you asked in a voice laced with agitation.

It was all whispers of panic and chaos while you took in the scene in front of you, quiet and in your thoughts, but the more you thought of it, the more you got enraged.

“Do you even realise what could have happened?"

It seemed as though the wound on his chest was glaring at you as you spoke, unable to look away from it as it continued to bleed. You winced, frowning more as you shook your head.

Mingyu, on the other hand, like the true annoyance he was, blinked in surprise as he heard you cuss. It was rare you did, it was rare you talked actually, choosing to only answer in small replies.

Or maybe you just hated him because he swears he’s seen you not only talk but also laugh and giggle with Vernon and Chan, even Seungcheol!

He didn’t want to admit it before but now he can, he absolutely disliked the fact that you were more nonchalant to him than any other person. Was he the problem?

No, no negative thoughts right now. Perhaps you were just shy around him.

Right because a shy person would definitely be glaring at him with all the rage enough to just burn him with a gaze.

Who was he trying to convince? You hated him and for all he knew, he was just a nuisance in your life.

“Where’s Wonwoo?! Is Dr.Jeon not there?” You sat him down on the lounge chair in the agency building. It was supposed to mimic how an actual office building would be, hence they even did the extra and added the typical reception desk and waiting area at the ground floor.

Wonwoo? Since when were you on a first name basis with Wonwoo?

He frowned at that, he didn't want to admit it but it annoyed him just a little. Though. He did have other bigger problems right now.

Like the gash on his upper chest that was bleeding. But it seemed the adrenaline had dimmed down the pain. It felt more numb if anything.

“He-he left. I mean his shift is over there's no one—”

“How the fuck is there no other doctor on duty?! In a fucking place like this you'd expect at least one how—”

You pinched your nose and took a deep breath. You were on the verge of possibly killing someone.

Mingyu was bleeding and you needed to think.

“Seungkwan. Get me the first aid kit. Chan, go get some water. And you-”

You looked back at Mingyu in question,

“Can you walk?”

Instead of answering, he nodded curtly, not really wanting to provoke you than he already had. He knew when and where to speak up when he should. At least sometimes he did.

“Great, let's go to my room.”

[ A few moments later ]

Your office space was very…you. It was like a reflection of what he thinks you are.

Your artefacts, some polaroids with people in few and more so sceneries. It resembled a lot of you but also not enough to satisfy his curiosity. He wanted to know more.

He sat down on the sofa, a light pink coloured one, one that stood out in the monochrome room. But it was nice. It was pretty.

He also thinks you look pretty, even though you were tense, eyebrows scrunched as you cut the bandage tape precisely.

You look pretty all the time though.

“I'll need you to remove your shirt.”

Mingyu would love to hear so much from you, and wanted to hear you say so many things for him. This was one of them for sure, but definitely not in the circumstances he wishes.

“I-what? ” He chokes up, immediately sitting up from his leaned back position, one you forced him into when he came there.

You put down the bandage after you finished, looking at him with an eyebrow raised, now crossing your arms.

“How else do you want me to treat your wound?”

“You're-you’ll be treating it?”

“Does it look like there's anyone else right now who can? If you're scared, just trust me, I uh- I have experience from treating my own and others as well.”

You said it firmly because you realised the unsurety in his voice might be right. He didn't know that you knew basic first aid and actually more, it was a requirement for most agents but perhaps it was different here.

Mingyu did trust you. That wasn't what he doubted. He doubted himself, whether he'd be able to handle you touching him in any way. He's terrified he might pass out.

“Okay, now I'll need you to actually remove your shirt, I'll help if you-”

“NO!-uh no I'll do it myself.”

He immediately raised his hands and began unbuttoning, as the shirt got more loose, you focused on how the wound was.

It was a slice, not a stab luckily, so it wouldn't have caused as much damage as a stab would. But it still was damage that hurt.

He hissed in pain as his shirt moved away from his hurt chest, the wound being open to the air.

Slowly, he removed his other arm and finally got his blood soaked shirt out. He questioned where to put it without saying anything as he looked around but you just grabbed it and tossed it in the dustbin.

It was one of his favourites.

Seeing the slight pout on his face, you rolled your eyes because of course, Mingyu would find that to be an issue and not the fact that he was bleeding out.

“I'll get you another one.”

That made him look up at you, to which his eyes widened,

“Uh no I-”

“Shut up.”

You finished preparing the cotton to clean up his wound first, you turned to face him and for a brief moment you paused.

You didn't expect what was in front of you. Mingyu being shirtless was expected of course, but his toned torso and wait…were those abs??

You cleared your throat when you realised you might have been staring a little too long.

It wasn't like you weren't used to seeing people with muscular bodies or so. It was natural in your field for people to be fit.

But Mingyu. Holy shit, he looked like someone personally took their time on him.

“Uhm, okay so I'll just clean up your wound first and then disinfect it, then just bandage it up alright?”

Your voice sounded a lot less angry than before. Actually it sounded more timid if anything. It made Mingyu both shocked and curious as to why suddenly you'd seem so…nervous?

You moved to sit beside him, trying your best to not let your eyes waver more than they already have.

Unfortunately for you, fortunate for Mingyu, your eyes did wander and in fact lingered a little too long on his exposed chest. Along with his torso.

And he noticed.

And he realised.

Gulping slightly, no ordinary person would know but Mingyu did and the glint in his eyes shifted to something more confident, you raised your hand and gently began to clean the open wound.

It seemed it was not as deep as you initially thought.

Holy shit, I'm touching his chest.

You're not a teenager for goodness sake pull yourself together?!???

But his chest is buff and so- fuck. Fucking hell.

Your internal thoughts were in conflict as you cleaned up his wound, not even realising you were going over a place that was already cleaned.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed yours and you were startled out of your conflict.

“You already cleaned it enough,” Mingyu had to bite his tongue to not slip out any sort of pet names but that didn't stop the small smirk on his face from seeing your somewhat composed demeanour be a little thrown off by his sudden nakedness.

His hand holding yours made it seem like you were burning. It burned when he touched you.

And how would one react to a burn?

They'd move far away from the cause of said burn.

You pulled your hand out and stood up quickly,

“Right, right, I was just uh- making sure. I wouldn't want any infections or anything like that.”

You turned back to your first aid kit, turning your back on him and slightly shook your head.

Pull yourself together. He's just…a guy.

But was he really just any guy?

He was Kim Mingyu. The guy who caused you more stress than anything. The same guy who also would bother you a lot during missions.

And yet he was also the same guy who saved you today. You were ambushed during the mission and outnumbered.

It was you against six. You could handle them practically speaking but you also would have your attention split more than it should be. Meaning you wouldn't be prepared for a seventh guy from out of nowhere.

But Mingyu happened to be able to come there. On time too. As though he was keeping up with you despite being in another room with another problem.

What you didn't know was how quickly he made it out of that room when he heard you were ambushed. How he felt his heart drop when he heard you yelp in pain when you got attacked out of nowhere. How he couldn't actually care about the rest of the mission after that and what he cared about most was getting you out of there. Safely.

He knew perhaps it was risky to have jumped in front of you when you were going to get stabbed but darn it be him than you anytime.

Luckily you were also quick enough to make sure he wasn't actually stabbed and pushed him aside as you gained the extra hand and were able to take down the ambusher.

You were not at all happy with what he did. In fact, going as far as to not talking to him till you reached the agency because you were boiling in rage.

“You know you shouldn't have jumped in between like that.”

You said as you soaked up the cotton in hydrogen peroxide.

“But you would have gotten terribly hurt.” Mingyu frowned at your words. The doubt from before raising as to why you'd been so upset with him when he actually saved you.

“Yes but that would be my fault. I would get hurt in my own fight. I'd bleed and patch it up myself. There would be no one else hurt but me.”

You turned to face him, holding the cotton in your hand as you walked up again towards him.

“Not you who got hurt because of me. I wouldn't feel the…the guilt. You got hurt. Because of me.”

His eyes softened upon hearing your words. It made sense now. You were feeling guilty and that's why you'd been so upset. He thinks he'd feel the same too if you were to get hurt somehow because of him.

“I'm…I'm sorry I didn't think about that but I couldn't just sit back and let you get hurt knowingly, I just, I couldn't do that. Not to you.”

You sat back down to your original position, now having completely different emotions than before. But you weren't sure which you preferred because the current ones were only making you feel more worse if anything.

Lightly pressing the soaked cotton on his open wound, he hissed in pain as the alcohol came in contact with his open skin.

“It's fine Mingyu, you don't need to explain, I get it. I'd also do it. Thank you for…saving me.”

You don't need to thank me.I'd only do it for you though. I'd risk anything for you.

But instead he could only gasp in pain as you continued to clean,

“Yeah, what a time to say thank you when you're causing me only more pain.”

You rolled your eyes at his words but felt a little bad for him due to knowing the pain of hydrogen peroxide to an exposed wound.

“Oh, shut up now you big baby, this will help you.”

“Baby? Are we moving on to pet names now?”

“What??? I didn't- I didn't mean it that-”

“Oh I know, I was just messing with you.”

“You-!”

After a bit more cleaning and more arguing, you got up and grabbed the bandage.

“Now how will I wrap this?”

You questioned as you held it. He also got up, feeling a bit better but you still warned him not to move to much as the wound was not yet wrapped.

Then you got the idea of how to wrap it.

“Listen, what I'll do is wrap this around your entire chest, like the entire upper part alright? I don't have anything else besides this right now but it'll help temporarily. Tomorrow you go and get it properly dressed from Wonwoo.”

He nodded obediently and it was slightly cute as to how he almost resembled a little puppy quietly following instructions. Though you could see him getting tired from the way his eyes seemed to drift.

“I'll do it as quick as I can.”

And quickly you did, already wrapping over the wound enough,to the point Mimgyu had to tell you he felt like he couldn't breath and that's when you stopped.

No sign of blood.

You noted as you taped over the left over end part on the right side of his chest.

For this part, you were very close to him, to ensure the best precision. He was just glad it wasn't the left side of his chest or else you'd definitely feel how fast his heartbeat was going from the moment you got closer.

Mingyu likes you. Like really really likes you. You who stayed behind and treated his wound. You who felt guilty for him getting hurt for something he chose to do.

He thinks in this situation no matter how hurt he got, he was now sure about you. More specifically liking you.

“There. All done.” You patted down his chest lightly as you moved a little behind but before you could properly go, his hand out of nowhere held your own and pulled you closer.

It was unexpected so you couldn't help but stumble a bit as your eyes widened.

You were very close. Too close in fact you were sure if you moved a bit more closer, you might just end up kissing him.

It didn't seem like too bad of an idea.

“Mingyu, what are you doing?”

“I just, I want to tell you thank you for helping me out right now, properly.”

He smiled softly at you, his canines slightly peaking from beneath his closed lip smile and you swore you felt your body flush.

He looked…as handsome as he always did. Brown eyes shimmering in all sorts of emotions, lips a shade of pretty pink.

But you couldn't. You couldn't dare. Not now.

Clearing your throat, you pulled back and stepped behind, your body suddenly feeling a weird coldness from the sudden distance.

On the other hand, Minghu seemed confused. Did he push too far? He didn't mean to, he didn't want to rush anything, he just wanted to properly say thank you like actually say it and not do anything-

“It's alright. I hope you get better soon. I'll call Seungkwan to get you a shirt. You can get changed here. I'll just leave now, it's late anyways and you should to.”

“Have a goodnight agent Kim.”

Agent…Kim? Not even Mingyu?

Before he could even question your change of behaviour, you'd already moved out of your room as if you life depended on it.

As if you'd rather be anywhere but there.

As if you suddenly remembered your dislike towards him.

“Wait! Y/—”

Sighing out, in likely relief as you got out of your office, you made your way down to the lobby.

You couldn't help but feel the guilt, if not even more at how you left Mingyu just because you were a coward. Just because you didn't want to admit how he made you feel.

You couldn't do that to him. Not at this moment.

And perhaps you couldn't do that to him ever, for Kim Mingyu deserves the best.

And that was surely not you.

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feedback is always appreciated 💌 !

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[irisintheafterglow]

hi!!! could i request pro hero!bakugo & pro hero!reader where bkgs doing an interview and they ask about relationships and his answer is “I thought you people already knew that im married”

i have no idea how to word things but i hope that was readable🙏🙏

keeping it in the family

wc: 1.6k

cw/tags: swearing, mentions of drinking and alcohol, established relationship, dialogue-driven

note: RAHHH I LOVE HUSBAND BAKUGO. anyways !!! i hope you like this, i did get a little carried away when writing it so hopefully it makes sense. thank you for your ask!!!

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3

“And we’re on in five, four, three, two…give ‘em hell.” The roar of excited applause jumbles together with the late-night show’s opening theme and the screams of excited fans can still be heard even as Kirishima flashes a blinding smile to the camera. 

“Good evening, everyone, and welcome to Heroes on Heroes! We’re so glad you’re joining us tonight, seeing as this is the finale of season one!” The audience cheers with fiery passion and it makes the three heroes onstage chuckle nervously. This was going to be a long night, especially if the superfans were crying after every word they spoke. “I’m Red Riot,” he pauses while the cheering erupts once again, “and I’m joined by my fellow pros, Chargebolt and Dynamight.” You wince from your place at sidestage from the sheer wave of noise that slams into your eardrums when the latter is introduced. 

“Thanks for having us tonight, man,” Denki grins. He eagerly drums the armrests of his chair, to the left of Kirishima. “I’ve been looking forward to doing one of these since I saw Deku’s a few weeks back.” 

“It’s a great concept, really. I love being able to just chat with you guys and shoot the shit about hero stuff. It’s so manly.” Kirishima turns expectantly to the other hero sitting to his right, whose hot-headed nature was blatantly obvious by how he was slumped in his chair, squinting slightly at the burning spotlights and clicking cameras. You admire Kirishima’s confidence in forcing Katsuki to say something. “What about you, Bakugo? How’re you feeling tonight?” 

“I’m alright,” he shrugs indifferently. Your breath catches in your throat and you can hear the Dynamight agency’s publicist put his head in his hands. “It’s been a while, so it’s good to see you guys,” he adds with unexpected fondness and you exhale in relief. His eyes meet yours for half a second and he shoots you a wink that makes your knees wobbly. “I saw that save at the bridge collapse last week, Shitty Hair. Pretty decent work.” Kirishima blinks once, twice, and then glances at Denki. Katuski’s blank look narrows into a scowl. “The hell are you looking like that for? I got shit in my teeth or something?”

“No, no. Sorry, man,” Kirishima laughs. “I just wasn’t expecting a compliment from you so early in the show.”

“Yeah, we thought we’d have to booze you up a little more to get you to be nicer,” Denki jokes and he recoils a bit when he’s struck with a molten hot glare from the hero across from him. 

“Whatever you’re about to say, bro, don’t say it,” Kirishima warns and the crackles in Katsuki’s palms gradually dissipate. “But, I’m wondering too. What’s with the good mood?” 

“I guess I feel like playing nice tonight,” he answers cryptically, his gaze flicking over to you again with amusement. You can almost sense the fainting girls falling over each other in the front row. Kirishima’s attention subtly darts over to you and a knowing smirk grows over his face. It was the first time you and Katsuki were at the same press event, since you both thought it was too dangerous to sneak around until now. “But, talk about that bridge save. I don’t think a lot of people know that the guy was wanted by several agencies.”

“Ooh, yeah,” Denki agrees with a quick sip of his drink. He swallows and sets the glass down with a light thud. “He’d been giving us hell for weeks. It's not really the best matchup for a sand villain to be going up against an electric hero.”

“It was the sand villain and his wife, wasn’t it? That chick with the melting Quirk?”

“Yep, they were a nasty couple to deal with,” Kirishima confirms. “I had to keep track of this guy’s damn sand spikes and his wife turning the floor to goop at the same time.”

“Goop is a weird-ass way to put it,” Katsuki points out with obvious distaste. 

“Yeah, but he was a pretty goopy guy.” Chuckles ripple through the audience and you can’t help breaking a smile too at Kirishima’s joke. 

“I think for me, at least,” Denki adds, “the biggest pain was the fact that they were married, and they had, like, marriage telepathy or something.”

“Bro, I thought that was just me! Here I was, thinking that I’d incapacitated one and split them from the other, when bam! Both of them appear in front of me like a damn genie.” 

“You ever have to deal with villain couples, Bakubro?”

“Nah, not recently. We’ve been doing a lot of big raids on all the crime families downtown.” He flexes his right bicep and pulls back the sleeve of his shirt to show a gnarly purple spot growing on his skin. “Got this little beauty three days ago from a neo-Hassaikai asshole.” You're not fazed by the ugly shade of the wound because you were the one who stitched up the...less visible results of the raid.

“Jeez, man,” Denki says in disbelieving awe at his friend’s injury. “If you ever need backup, we’d love to do a team up with you.” 

“I think I’d rather die–”

“My agency would also love to team-up with you,” Kirishima interjects before Katsuki can finish his thought. The heart rate monitor of his publicist begins to rapidly beep behind you. “We can have a threeway team-up! That’d be pretty cool, don’t you guys think?” 

“What if we all just merged into one big super agency? Like a big family?”

“That sounds like the stupidest shit–” Again, Kirishima cuts off Katsuki’s brash protests and saves them from being taken off the air.

"That would be so awesome."

“Would that mean we’d have to get pro-hero partners, too? Keep hero work in the family?”

“I think Salonpas would have heart palpitations if we said we were trying to keep hero work within the family,” Katsuki points out and his friends nod in agreement. “On another fuckin’ note, that Half-and-Half idiot keeps hogging the number two spot and it pisses me off.” Though you didn’t often encounter Todoroki while you were on patrol, you knew that he was adamant about keeping work life and family life separate. It made him even more of a dedicated hero and a recent bust of a notorious crime ring bumped him into the number two spot over Dynamight for that month. You didn’t hear the end of it from Katsuki. 

“He and Deku just work really efficiently, Bakubro.”

“I can efficiently slam both their skulls into a–”

“You know what would solve that problem?” Denki butts in unceremoniously, covering up his harsh words for a third time. Katsuki grunts in response and the lightning-decorated hero gives him enthusiastic finger-guns. “Combining and making a family agency.”

“What are the chances that Sero would want to join too?”

“Probably pretty high,” Kirishima guesses. “He’s at my place every other week, anyway, so he’s basically my brother.”

“Alright, maybe this could actually work, then. I just need to find a smoking hot hero wife.”

“That’ll probably be the hardest part, buddy–”

“What about Bakugo?” You stiffen and the three guys turn their attention to a voice calling out from the audience. Speaking during the interviews was strictly prohibited until the question and answer section, but getting Katsuki’s attention was a surefire way to derail the entire episode.

“The fuck do you mean, what about Bakugo? Who the fuck said that?”

"Dude, just ignore them."

“Can’t be a family agency if Bakugo never gets into relationships,” the same nasally, irritating voice argues and your face feels like it’s been set on fire. Kirishima’s attention jumps to you for a moment and then back to his friend, whose palms are starting to spark like fireworks. “Do you just get no bitches, or something?” The audience gasps and security finally arrives to escort the disturbance out of the building. The director is ready to stop the cameras and jump to a commercial break, but Katsuki speaks before he can order the sound crew to cut the mics. To everyone’s surprise, his voice is nothing but amusement, like the insinuation didn’t bother him in the slightest. 

“You think I don’t get into relationships?”

“Bakugo…”

“It’s alright, Pikachu. I really don’t give a shit about whatever that guy said,” Katsuki reassures his friend with a sly glint in his eye. His friends watch him warily, like a grenade on the verge of exploding. Once again, burning red eyes meet yours with a single question that you answer with a resolute nod. “I’m not gonna blow up, so stop looking like that. Really, I don’t care.”

“Why not?” A tense beat of silence passes, then–

“I thought you people knew that I’m married.” A shit-eating grin spreads across your husband’s face as gasps of shock burst from the audience. Kirishima and Denki both shake their heads in exasperation. They knew already, of course, but they didn’t expect him to reveal his relationship status as a result of a heckler. “Yep, going on a year and a half, now. Around five years together total coming this winter.” More collective cries of jealousy, surprise, and betrayal shake the building’s foundation. "If you don't believe me, ask these guys."

"Yeah, we were at the wedding, too. It's hard to keep it a secret when all of your friends are also high-profile heroes."

“Can you guys believe that he fell in love during the winter?” Denki’s thumb juts out toward his friend, who frowns at the mere mention of cold weather.

“I fucking hate the winter,” he grumbles. 

“We know, man,” Kirishima says sympathetically, unsuccessfully hiding a chuckle. “You’ve been saying that since high school.”

“Yeah, and shit hasn’t changed,” Katsuki bites back with lighthearted indignance. “Look, they saved my ass when it was cold; how was I not supposed to fall in love with them?” To your delight, his complexion has turned a slightly darker shade of pink. “Yeah, I love them. What about it, asshats?”

“Is this a bad time to bring up the family agency again?”

“Let’s go to commercial before I blow this fucking chair to pieces.”

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[barefoot-joker]

Snake in the Garden Pt 2~Yandere!Lucifer X Reader

Hello, everybody! And welcome to part 2 of Snake in the Garden! I had a lot of fun writing this chapter and I can't wait to see what you guys think. There will be a couple more parts after this one, so be on the lookout! At the end I will have a taglist of people. If you would like to be added, don't hesitate to comment. Again, I'm sorry if Lucifer is OOC. I tried my best. As always, I hope you enjoy and have a great day/night!

Words: 2877

Warnings: Swearing, Mental Breakdown, Forced Companionship, Possessive Tendencies, Ignoring One's Wishes

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

I sighed as I shifted in the large King sized bed. It was quite comfortable with red silk sheets, fuzzy blankets and so many pillows one could almost make an igloo. While the mattress was quite huge, I wasn’t given much room to move. Currently His Majesty had his inky black arms wrapped around my waist and his legs tangled with mine. The heat of his breath and body felt hotter than the fires of Hell. I tried to shift again but he just cuddled closer. “Just five more minutes, darling.”

“Please, Lucifer-”

“I love it when you say my name,” he purred.

“I really need to go to the bathroom. I promise I’ll come right back.”

He hummed and I shuddered as his claws lightly tapped at my hip. “I suppose I can allow it. But do be quick, I’ll miss you.”

His grip loosened and I was quick to sit up. Fast walking to the bathroom, I shut and locked the door behind me. While there was no doubt in my mind he could use some magic to open the door if he wanted to, the lock soothed some sense of protection in me. A sigh of relief escaped me as I sat on the toilet and let my hands run down my face. I didn’t really need to use the bathroom, it was just a lame excuse to get away for a few minutes. After all, it had only been a few hours since I found out my little Red was actually the Devil himself and I was being ushered into the role of Queen of Hell. I shook my head as I tried to get rid of the look of adoration he held in his eyes throughout the night. It was frightening. Silently, I played with the hem of my favorite color nightgown as I tried to think of a way out of this. 

It’s not like I could kill him. He seemed pretty agile on his feet and with magic on his side he’d be able to stop a fatal blow.

Leaving wasn’t an option either. There was palace staff everywhere, little demons with suits waiting for their master’s beck and call. The property was guarded by David and Goliath as well. Besides, I didn’t really know the layout of the castle and would just be going in blind, despite the elaborate tour I had gotten.

The final thought was to play into his game, make him believe I was in love with him. I mentally gagged. Not only did I think I wouldn’t be able to handle pretending to be a fan of his courtship, I feel he would be able to sniff out my intentions right away. He was an ancient being of many eons after all and he had a previous wife.

I looked up from my thoughts and gazed at the Victorian stained glass window in front of me. The window was able to be pulled apart in the middle as there was a latch on either side. Hold on a minute.

I got up and stalked over, undoing the golden latch quietly. Looking down, I gulped at how high up we were. The dead grass seemed miles away. Perhaps if I got a rope of some sort I’d be able to climb out? 

“Darling, are you almost done in there? It’s getting quite lonely out here.”

“C-coming!”

I quickly closed the window, flushed the toilet, and turned on the sink. Can’t have him believing I was a liar already. A few seconds later I shut off the sink and unlocked the door. Opening it, I could see Lucifer’s gaze shift towards me and a smile peeled at his lips. He patted the empty side of the bed so I slowly walked over. I peeled back the thin black curtain that surrounded the four poster bed and sat. His claws slid across the blankets and planted themselves on my thigh, his thumb rubbing the flesh tenderly. “I’ve canceled all my meetings for the day to help try and get you more situated, dear. Doesn’t that sound lovely?”

“I suppose.”

I turned my head to glance at the blankets, my fingers drawing patterns being more entertaining. Suddenly a knock at the door had us both looking towards it. “Sire, breakfast is ready.”

“Thank you. We’ll be down in a few.”

“Of course, Sire.”

I heard little footsteps scurry away. “I guess that’s our cue to get up.”

He pulled back the blankets and I blushed upon seeing him shirtless and with boxers that had apples all over. I had forgotten that’s how he went to bed. He slipped past me and headed to a dark oak wardrobe across from the bed and opened it. Lucifer shifted through the various clothes before deciding on something. He brought out two hangers and laid them on the bed. One was the white suit that he wore yesterday and the other was a lacy white blouse, velvety green skirt and black boots. “I’ll admit I don’t have many options for you to wear as of right now. We’ll have to go shopping together sometime soon. I hope this will suffice for now.”

“It’s fine, thank you.”

I slid off the bed, grabbed my clothes and headed into the bathroom. I locked the door and began to strip. It took me a few minutes to do up the buttons on the blouse but once I was done I walked back into the bedroom. Lucifer was just putting on his boots while I draped my nightgown over the back of a chair. “Well don’t you just look enchanting, my dear.”

“Always the charmer, aren’t you?” “I’m just stating the truth.”

He leaned over and gave my cheek a kiss. I just huffed. “Shall we go?”

I nodded. Interlocking our arms together, Lucifer led the way to the dining room. It was quite the grand room with a chandelier hanging above the large table. The blonde pulled out my chair for me and scooted it in once I had sat. He placed himself across from me and as soon as we were situated a few castle staff came out. They placed a mug in front of each of us, a dark roast coffee smell emitting from it. Plates were put on the table as well. A couple of eggs, sausage and bacon were put in the form of a happy face, something I’m sure Lucifer had a hand in. Breakfast was quiet as the King looked over his newspaper and I poked at my food. From what I ate it was quite good, just uncomfortable with those red eyes gazing at me every once in a while. 

When the table was cleared, the two of us walked towards the Devil’s workshop. Lucifer gently pushed me into a black high backed chair as he sat on a stool on a podium. I looked at all the rubber ducks that filled the various containers spread throughout the room wondering why. Why rubber ducks? Why so many?

“I hope you don’t mind me working on my latest creation, dearest.”

“Not at all. But, um, what am I supposed to do?”

“Ah, how foolish of me! Here you are.”

A book materialized on the table in front of me and I realized it was one of my favorites. “I hope that is alright.”

I nodded and flipped it open. For a few hours our time was spent like this: him working on his latest invention and I reading. A little bit in I became a bit restless. I placed my book down and gazed around the small room. Besides the rubber ducks and table I sat at, there were other various knick knacks on bookshelves, tools hanging on the walls and some framed photos. The photos had the same three people in them: Lucifer, a beautiful blonde woman and a young blonde girl. Could that be his wife and daughter he mentioned before? “And, done!”

Lucifer spun on his stool to face me and proudly held out his creation. It was a yellow rubber duck with red music notes painted all over it. “How…interesting.”

He stood and placed the duck in my hands. “I know it may look normal, but this is no ordinary duck. Here,” he squeezed the wings and suddenly music came spilling from its beak. 

It was a romantic tune, one I didn’t recognize but sounded familiar. It sounded like a song I’d hear play from the church I’d walk past every day. “It’s music from my birth place. The tune was often played at our festivities and it just reminded me of you.”

“Well, thank you, I guess.”

I sat the duck down on the table and sighed. There he goes with the romantic gestures again. “Is it not to your liking, my love?”

“No, it's just…nevermind.”

I could feel his hands wrap around my shoulders and I tensed. “What’s wrong, Y/n? You’ve been off all day.”

“Can I ask you a favor?”

“Of course! Anything in my power is yours for the asking, you just name it!”

“I want to go home. My actual home on Earth. I, I don’t belong here, Lucifer.”

I could feel tears in my eyes as I gazed down at my hands in my lap. The hands on my shoulders squoze. “You know I can’t do that, sweetie. Your place is by my side here in Hell.”

I clenched my hands and bit my lip. Anger started to slowly rise within me. I stood fast, Lucifer’s hands flying off my shoulders. “How can you decide where I belong? You’re not my father nor are you my husband. Can’t you see how much I hate it here? How much I hate you?!”

His eyes widened and I rushed out of the room. I heard him call for me but I just ignored it. Tears fell down my cheeks as I let my legs carry me throughout the palace till I reached the outside. I fell to the ground near a hand carved stone bench and let my feelings out. I truly didn’t want to be courted by the Devil and no way did I want to remain in my own personal hell. Why couldn’t things be back to normal where I could tend to my garden and have Red join me? Red, that damn snake. Why did he have to come into my life? If only I hadn’t let my kind nature tend to him, then perhaps I’d still be home. “Damn him! DAMN HIM!”

I slammed my hands on the bench and continued to cry. It felt like an eternity till all my crying had ceased and I took the time to look around. That’s when I noticed something in the overgrowth surrounding the fence on the property. I stood and made my way over, pulling at the wiry, thorny brush. My eyes widened as I saw a hole in the fence. Could this be a sign from God? Was he giving me a way out? I looked back at the palace and then back to the fence. As much as I wanted to leave now I knew it wouldn’t be a good idea. Lucifer was no doubt looking for me and leaving would only heighten his upset emotions. I’ll just have to keep this in mind.

I moved the brush back to how it was originally and stepped away, just in time too. One of the servants came out from the glass doors and headed towards me. “Miss Y/n, His Majesty has been looking all over for you! He’s been worried sick!”

I didn’t say anything as he gently grabbed my hand, dragging me inside. “Come along. He’ll be glad to see you in one piece.”

The next few days Lucifer and I spent walking on eggshells around each other. There was an awkward air about us as we went about our days. I suppose my outburst was the cause of it. Even with our hesitation, the demon did his best to court me. Meals were spent in each other’s presence at close proximity, gifts of flowers, rubber ducks and long walks around the property were fairly common, and intimacy was at an all time high. Lucifer had to have his hands on me at all times and kisses on the cheeks and forehead happened at every turn. It was about a week later that His Majesty decided it was time we went out into the city. One of the servants drove us in and the ride over I was given some guidelines. “You are to stay by my side at all times. Pentagram City is quite the dangerous place. If somebody gets too close, I will deal with it personally. Anybody that talks to you will go through me and please dear, don’t hesitate to have fun.”

I’ll try with the short leash you have on me.

The car stopped and Lucifer and I got out. He stooped to the window and whispered something to the driver before coming to my side. Interlocking our arms, we began our walk. “I thought some fresh air away from home would do us both some good, my darling. Besides, this will give us a chance to look for some clothes for you.”

I nodded. As we walked down the sidewalk I could feel a dozen stares pointed in our direction, whispers about our presence floating amongst the civilians. Lucifer didn’t seem to mind but with all the gawking I felt a bit shy. As we passed by an ornate window display, he stopped suddenly. “This seems right up your alley, sweetie.”

He pulled us inside the store. We stood at the entryway and I couldn’t help but gaze at the various clothes. It seemed this shop was more on the posh end, with skirts, dresses and fancy blouses decorating the mannequins. The store itself was a bit busy as customers wandered, but as soon as we entered all eyes were on us. I did my best to shrink into myself while Lucifer puffed out his chest in pride. “Your Majesty, welcome! How grand of you to grace us with your presence! How can we help you today,” asked a female imp in black clothes. 

“My darling here is lacking a wardrobe at home, so I thought it fit to come and look around.”

The woman looked me up and down and smiled. “I’m sure we can find something for your sweetheart. If you’d like to follow me please we can start looking at some pieces.”

I looked to the short man beside me and he just nodded in her direction. “Don’t be shy, dear.”

The two of us followed along as the imp pointed out some options, Lucifer stating his opinion on each one. When we had grown quite the collection, we were led to the fitting rooms in the back. The King perched himself on a plush bench as I stepped into one of the smaller rooms. As I was getting dressed, I heard a phone going off. The circus ringtone rang throughout the store until it stopped when the person picked up. “Charlie, sweetie, how are you?”

I stopped upon hearing Lucifer’s voice. “That’s great to hear. You and Maggie had a good date the other night? Wonderful. How have things at the hotel been? Any recent sinners looking to be redeemed?”

Redeemed? I scooted closer to the curtain to listen in. “I see. Heaven is giving you a hard time, eh?”

Heaven? “What am I up to? Oh your old man is just taking a stroll through town. Listen Charlie, I am quite busy at the moment. How about I give you a call later, okay? Alright sounds good. Buh bye. How’s it going in there, Y/n?”

I stepped out and a smirk rested itself on his face. “My, my. Don’t you look lovely. You know, if we were back at home I don’t think I could hold myself back from ravishing you.”

I felt a shudder go up my spine. Gross!

“I like that blouse on you. It brings out your eyes very nicely. How about trying some more on for dear ole Luci?”

“O-okay.”

I slammed the curtain shut and let myself gag at what he had said earlier. How very forward of him. Now about this hotel…maybe this could be my ticket out of here. 

“Lucifer?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Who was that on the phone?”

“Oh, that was my daughter Charlie!”

“I thought you said you didn’t have a great relationship with her?”

“I don’t, but we’re working on it. I’m helping her with her little passion project.”

“Oh? And what’s that?” Gotcha.

“The Hazbin Hotel. She believes she can solve Hell’s population problem by getting sinners redeemed into Heaven. I honestly don’t see the point, but if helping brings us closer together then I’ll be there for her.”

“I see.” Perhaps if I went the Princess of Hell could get me back to Earth!

After I had tried everything on, we went to the checkout counter and bought a few pieces. I carried the bags back to the car and the whole time I brewed up a plan on how to escape.

~~~~

TAGLIST

@ladymothbeth @cosmic-spider @l0vedoe @stormz369 @strawberry-gothic @repostingmyfavs

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

Hello! How do you think König (or any of the guys really) would react to you calling them "my sweet lil guy"?

Thanks for this request!!🩷🩵🩷🩵 I just did this for multiple characters, as I thought this would be funny to see them! They’re short and sweet!

141 + Königs Reactions to Reader Calling Them "My Sweet Lil Guy."

Warnings: slight swearing, fluff, slight sexual references

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Simon Ghost Riley-

“Bloody hell.” Simon groaned, his hands moving to grasp at his back. “Damn thing hurts.”

"Awe, my sweet lil guy got a backache?" You teased, moving to rub Simon's back gently.

Simon turned, slowly, toward you a look of mock horror on his face. "The hell you just call me?"

You bit your lip to prevent a giggle, watching the confusion on your boyfriend's face with amusement. "My... sweet lil guy?"

Simon stared at you, his brows furrowing in confusion. “I’ve been called a lot of things in my life, but little isn’t one of them.”

“First for everything I suppose.” You shrugged your shoulders, struggling not to crack a smile under Simon’s intense stare.

“You’re a little brat, you know that?” Simon chuckled, kissing your temple.

“I’m the little brat, you’re the sweet lil guy.” You teased, scrunching your nose at him.”

“You’re pushing it, kid.”

Johnny Soap MacTavish-

“Everyone, I’d like for you to meet Johnny.” You smiled, introducing your boyfriend to your group of friends.

"Is this the "sweet lil guy" you've been telling us all about?" Your friend asked as she regarded Johnny with a smile.

Johnny blinked a few times before looking at you. "Your sweet lil guy?"

Your friend gave a hearty chuckle. "Yep, they call you thay all the time."

“Tha’ so?” Johnny quirked a brow at you, a devious smile making its way to his lips.

“Johnny no, pl-.” You started, but Johnny was quick to cut you off.

“That’s not what they were screaming in bed last night.”

Oh yeah, he won your friends over that night.

John Price-

“Cmon, sweetheart. It’s past midnight, surely you can put the book down and go to bed.” John groaned, it was well past his bedtime.

“Is my sweet lil guy tired?” You cooed, turning to face John in bed. “Promise I’m almost done.”

"Your sweet lil guy?" He looked at you, bemused by your nickname. “That really what comes to mind when you think of me?”

“Sure is.” You faked a yawn, flipping over to finish the chapter of the book you were reading.

John wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling your back flush against his chest. “Yeah, you’re sure about that?”

Your cheeks burned crimson, the prominent bulge in your lovers boxers now pressing hard against your back. “Y-yes.”

“Give me about two minutes. Once my cocks inside that pretty little mouth of yours- you’ll be choking on those words.”

König-

“Maus, can you help me with these straps?” König asked, gesturing to the buckled straps of his vest. “I can’t reach them.”

“I’ve got you sweet lil guy.” You chuckled, making your way over to him. You began to fiddle with the straps before he stopped you, abruptly turning to face you.

Königs cheeks became beat red as he stuttered out his words. "W-what?"

“Sweet lil guy? I meant it as a term of endearment Kö.” You blinked a few times, watching as your boyfriend’s face became as red as a tomato.

König couldn’t explain why.. exactly the name had him feeling so flustered. He was ANYTHING but small, in any regard, but he…liked the thought. It made him feel you didn’t find his large stature menacing, and the thought was comforting to him.

“Can you.. call me that again?”

Kyle Gaz Garrick-

“Damnit!” Kyle exclaimed, running his hands over his head in frustration. “I was so fucking close! I had him!”

"Did my sweet lil guy lose?" You chided, watching your boyfriend throw his controller on the couch in frustration.

“Yeah. I fucking did. I’ve been trying to beat that game all.. wait what did you call me?” Kyle whipped his head around to you, and it took everything in you not to laugh.

“My sweet lil guy is throwing a tantrum.” You giggled, watching as the corners of his lips turned upward. “Does baby need a kiss to make it better.”

Kyle nodded, his bottom lip pouting slightly. “I do.”

You bit your lip in amusement, before wrapping your arms around your boyfriend pulling him close to you. “I’ve got you baby boy.”

Kyle wouldn’t ever admit it, to anyone, but he certainly wouldn’t complain if you wanted to call him that again.

[barcaatthemoon]

passenger princess || mackenzie arnold x reader ||

sometimes, you wish that mackenzie would let you drive.

"come on, we're gonna be late!" you shouted at mackenzie. the two of you both had media to do, and mackenzie had taken all morning getting ready. you thought that she looked absolutely stunning, but you didn't want to get yelled at for missing your required media.

"your chariot awaits," mackenzie said as she opened the passenger's side door for you.

"mac, babe, i love you, but i think that i should drive today," you tried to tell her. it was really no use because mackenzie obviously didn't want to listen. she always got like this whenever you suggested driving the two of you somewhere.

you had grown up in the city, and while mackenzie had been there for a good amount of time, she wasn't a local. mackenzie didn't know all of the shortcuts and side roads that would cut your travel time down by a third. and so, the two of you truged into the training facilities about 10 minutes late.

"sorry boss, traffic was horrible." mackenzie was quick to diffuse your coach and the media team's ire towards the two of you. they didn't seem too annoyed with mackenzie, but that same courtesy wasn't extended towards you. mac was their world class goalkeeper, and you were just another midfielder that they had gotten cheap. you had come up with a team that had come up during a relegation swap. whenever they went right back down the next season, you had joined west ham instead.

"we could have gotten here sooner if someone would have let me drive," you said. a few of your teammates started snickering behind you, as did mackenzie. you turned to glare at all of them, but the look that you sent your girlfriend was a bit more hurt.

"don't take it personally babe, but you're just not the driving type. you look too pretty in my passenger's seat." mackenzie was trying to be sweet, but it didn't work. she placed her fingers underneath your chin to tilt it up and kiss you, but you turned your face at the last second. a chorus of 'ooo's rang out from your teammates as you stormed out of the locker room.

the media bit was a little intense after that. mackenzie had only been joking, and her attempt at an apology had been brushed off. she didn't mean to upset you. driving wasn't something that she thought would be such a big deal for the two of you. she just liked doing things for you, and since you were normally very independent, this was one of the few things she had the opportunity to even attempt.

"are you ready to go back home?" mackenzie asked as the two of you made your way towards the parking lot.

"i'm not going home with you tonight," you told her. mackenzie's face fell immediately at the news. you hadn't been back to your apartment in two months, having stayed at mackenzie's. your lease was going to be up soon, and your roommate was in talks with a new transfer about moving in. however, you still had a couple of weeks before that happened.

"no!" mackenzie shouted. you winced at the loudness in such a close proximity. mackenzie's face softened a bit as she grabbed you by the arm and tugged you towards the car. "you don't live there, you live with me. we always go home together, you know this. did what i say really upset you this much?"

"it's not just the passenger princess jokes, mac. it's also not just you. i don't want all the girls and the staff to think that i can't do anything for myself. you don't hear all the jokes and comments. i swear that some of them think i can't do anything for myself." mackenzie's face fell as she saw how genuinely worked up you were getting over this. it went a lot further than she had known, and suddenly, mackenzie felt absolutely terrible that you'd been holding in these feelings for so long by yourself.

"hey, (y/n), look at me." mackenzie grabbed your face and leaned in close enough for you to feel her breath against your cheek. "i am sorry for making you feel bad. i am sorry for letting things get so out of hand. i know that you're independent. hell, you do practically everything for me, and driving you around, it feels like the only thing i can offer to help you out. if you want to drive us back, you can, just please come home with me. i don't want to spend a single night without you if i don't have to."

"mac, baby?"

"yeah?" mackenzie seemed scared, as if you were going to tell her that you still wanted to go back to your own apartment. a night in with mackenzie, even whenever you were mad at her, was better than a night in with your roommate any day.

"take me home," you told her. mackenzie's shoulders sagged down a little with relief. you pressed a quick kiss to her lips and threaded your fingers with hers. the two of you walked through the parking lot together towards mackenzie's car. she got the door for you, absolutely beaming when you kissed her cheek in thanks. "can we stop by tesco's on the way home?"

"of course. i'll take you anywhere you want to go." mackenzie grabbed onto your hand and kissed the back of it. you let out a little giggle and settled back into your seat. there wasn't any tension in the car, which you were beyond grateful for.

mackenzie pushed the cart for you in the store, following as you walked around picking out seemingly random things. some of it was groceries that you had noticed earlier needed to be replenished, but quite a bit of the things you were buying weren't things that you normally bought at all. mackenzie didn't bring it up, assuming that it was for some sort of surprise at home.

"can i get some assistance from my favorite sous chef?" you asked mackenzie. she looked up from the couch to see you standing in the entryway of the kitchen holding an apron that you had bought her as a joke. mackenzie could cook, but she rarely did outside of using the grill every other weekend during the summer months.

"i don't know what you're making," mackenzie told you. you brushed it off and helped her into the apron. you gave very clear directions and within the hour, you had a homemade sauce simmering for a spaghetti night.

"how does it taste?" you watched nervously as mackenzie tasted a bit of the sauce.

"if football doesn't work out, you should open a restaurant," mackenzie told you. you moved to press a kiss to her cheek as thanks, unsurprised when mackenzie turned so your lips landed on hers. her hands grabbed at your waist, squeezing gently as she deepened the kiss. "better yet, i'll keep you on as my personal chef. and i can be your chauffeur if you'd like."

"sounds good to me. now, go set the table, the food is almost ready." you gave mackenzie a gentle shove away from you. mackenzie blew you a kiss as she carried the plates and silverware out to the dining room table. mackenzie sat excitedly at the table when you got out there, right next to the place that she set for you. she spent the whole meal practically just staring at you, often to the point of spilling a bit of her sauce on herself every other bite. it was ridiculous, but another reminder of why it was so easy to love mackenzie sometimes.

[apute11as]

Everything happens for a reason part 5 - Alexia Putellas x pregnant!reader

Summary: the world cup final holds some bumps and bruises.

Warnings: angst, blood, injury (all resolved don’t worry!!)

Notes: We pretend alexia played the full 90 of the final… and assisted the winner🤫and no R*biales situation. ALSO deepest apologies for how inactive i’ve been, i have been busy but… i’ve also been lazy i’ll try and be better from now on im sorry!! ❤️

⭐️My requests are open!

Other parts here!!

~~~~

Things had been a lot calmer since yours and Alexia’s phone call. The morning sickness and overall fatigue was ever present but the mind numbing arguing had subsided. Alexia still wasn’t overly impressed that you were still playing, as you were nearing the end of your first trimester. The management staff now knew about your pregnancy but after a medical checkup and lots of reassuring, they cleared you to complete the tournament.

The World Cup final was soon and you’d just finished the match that saw you get through. As the final whistle blew, relief flooded your system at the win.

“YES WE’RE THROUGH Y/N!” Screamed Mary, picking you up and hoisting you onto her back.

“I know I can’t believe it!!” You shouted back

The rest of the girls were celebrating as you remained on the goalkeeper’s back, her carrying you around like a carriage.

“Oi careful Mearps don’t want to damage the little princesa!” Bellowed Lucy, upon seeing you on her back.

You were pretty sure Alexia had threatened Lucy in some way in order for her to look out for you whilst Alexia couldn’t. You couldn’t go a day without the older brunette either piling extra food onto your plate, shouting at someone for touching you lightly or simply calling the baby “La princesa”.

——

Later that evening, you were splayed across Lucy’s bed, Alessia beside you as the two of you had decided to bombard the older girl until she agreed to let you come in. A Disney movie was playing in the background as you rested your head in Alessia’s lap, your hand absentmindedly tracing patterns on your small bump.

“Ughh why are my tits so sore!” You groaned

“I don’t think your wife would be too happy about me partaking in a conversation about your tits” joked Lucy sarcastically.

“oh shut up! Everything just hurts all the time now, my whole body just kills, especially after the matches” you whined.

“Old age feels the same” laughed Lucy.

“Well both of you are complaining an awful lot considering we only have the final to go, surely that’s exciting no?” added Alessia

“I mean sure it’s exciting but i’m not really looking forward to playing against my wife and half of our team”

“Yeah me neither honestly” agreed Lucy

“Ugh you’re both so miserable, we’ve made it to our first world cup final!” Alessia insisted

“I can’t wait to go home honestly” you began. “I mean obviously I’d love for us to win and this tournament has been incredible, but I just miss my wife and my dog” you explained, eyes filling with tears.

“Oh honey are you crying?” Alessia asked, pulling you into her embrace

“shut up i’m not crying” you huffed in disgust, causing alessia to squeeze you harder. “it’s the baby it’s not me” you sobbed

“look at that la reina is controlling you through her spawn even when she’s not here” bellowed lucy

“Piss off bronze” you sulked

———

Training leading up to the final was exhausting to say the least, and it really wasn’t helped by the helicopter parenting you got from half of the team, regarding the baby. The running joke of you “carrying the heir to the throne” caught on quick, even Sarina had played into it, which really didn’t help the teasing you were already receiving from the girls.

Alexia had managed to call you every day recently, inquiring after the health of her “princesas” and somehow managing to hover more than anyone, despite not even being there in person. That is how you found yourself, the day before the final on the phone to your wife, despite you both swearing not to speak to each other before the match.

“Yes Alexia i have been eating well” you huffed

“Are you sure mi amor? How is the sickness?” she replied

“Still exists but it’s definitely better now, it’s only in the morning so it’s not draining me quite as much.”

“That’s good bebita, how are you feeling about tomorrow?” Your wife questioned with a frown.

“Hey i thought we agreed, no football talk” you asked, raising your eyebrows.

“sí but i couldn’t resist mi amor, it won’t leave my mind”

“i know Ale but just think, after tomorrow we’ll be together again, regardless of the result” you smiled

“i miss you so much” she sighed

“i miss you too baby” you agreed

———

Dinner that evening was tense, it was evident that despite the excitement in the air at the prospect of a world cup final, the anxiety levels were also high. Even Georgia who was infamous for her inability to keep quiet, was relatively subdued. A strange sense of dread overcame your body as you realised your little bubble would burst as soon as the World Cup was over. Which was not to say that that you didn’t miss your wife because you most definitely did but you knew that this would almost certainly be your last game of competitive football before the baby arrived which was bittersweet when you really thought about it.

“How you feeling darling?” Questions Mary, lightly bumping your hip as she passed her plate onto the chef to be loaded.

“Nervous but excited i think” you half laughed.

“You’ll be amazing, you’ve saved us multiple times in this tournament. I know how hard it’ll be to be up against her but you deserve it y/n! Celebrate that regardless of the result tomorrow”

“You always know what to say Mary” you smiled, bringing the older woman into a hug.

You hadn’t slept so well since the tournament has started, sometimes all that was needed was a friend.

The journey to the match saw you receiving a good luck text from many people, one of which being your mother in law. Although you knew she’d be supporting Spain, as would Alba, you knew that the pair would be proud of both you and Alexia regardless of the result.

——

The bus arrived at the ground after a short 30 minute drive, something you were thankful for as that pregnancy travel sickness was no joke. You were seated next to Alessia much to your delight, the younger girl had been nothing but supportive of you the entire tournament. Ella and Mary were sat opposite you two on the table, playing a rather competitive game of uno.

“You ready?” Alessia sighed as she stood up.

“As ready as i’ll ever be” you said, mirroring her sigh.

“LETS GO GIRLS!” Bellowed Ella, the brunette forever having no filter.

You stepped off the bus, only to be greeted by masses of fans behind the gates, waiting to cheer you in. Many of those fans were adorned in Spanish shirts, likely hoping to get a video of you, Lucy and Keira as you noticed a couple of them with Barça scarves around their necks.

You smiled as you high-fived the row of mascot children to your right, carrying a bottle of water in your other hand.

As you found your way to the changing room, the atmosphere started to sink in as you realised you were actually at a world cup final, something that 5 year-old you had dreamed of since the day your idols Ronaldinho and Rivaldo had stepped onto that same stage 21 years ago.

Pitch inspection was up next as you wandered beside your captain with her reminding you of formation and reassuring you of your importance to the team throughout the tournament. You looked across the pitch and saw the Spanish team doing the same thing, wondering whether or not it would be appropriate to go and greet them.

Lucy being Lucy, beat you to that thought as she bounded over in the direction of Ona and your recognisably pink-haired girlfriend. Alexia was adorned in a navy blue tracksuit that proudly (or rather not so) displayed the RFEF emblem on her heart.

You wandered over, slightly more carefully than your counterpart, locking eyes with your wife as she looked up from her phone. Her gaze softened as it met yours, the both of you knowing that a conversation would result in tears, no matter the nature of it. Instead, you chose a simple hug, a hug that said more than words ever could. One of her arms was settled on your back, the other reached gently over your hoodie to caress the small bump that formed there.

“I love you” she whispered softly in your ear.

“Te amo” you responded, before breaking the hug and wandering back over to join the rest of your teammates, knowing you both needed the focus before the match and any further interaction would have to wait for the sake of concentration.

Upon reaching the dressing room, you began to change into your warmup kit, placing your hands where your wife’s have been just moments ago and smiling.

“Starting to show are we?” Questioned Leah with a smirk

“Hmm yes a little” you smiled

“How do you feel seeing her?” She inquired after Alexia

“Honestly relieved to be with her again” you sighed

“Well that’s good darling, we’ve got a game to win now come on!” She cheered as she dragged you by the arm, onto the pitch.

——

You readied yourself into position, you spared a simple glance at your wife, knowing that regardless of the result today you would end up in her arms and that thought alone was enough to calm some of the nerves currently enveloping your body. You glanced into the stadium briefly, scanning the crowd where your gaze met your mother and sister in law, cheering frantically. You noticed that Alba was in fact wearing an England scarf on top of her Spain jersey, a detail that made you grin slightly at her love.

The game kicked off relatively fast paced with Spain holding much of possession but luckily the majority of that possession was through their defence and midfield and far from your backline. The actual tempo of the game was relatively calm with the majority of Spain’s attacking opportunities being closed down through the talented midfield and sharp defence that England possessed.

However this all but changed in the 29th minute as Lucy made a risky run out into the middle and you were torn between covering her and staying on Jenni as she’d positioned herself perfectly onside, ready to receive any loose ball that came her way and likely put it in the net, knowing the talented feet of the 33 year old. Ultimately you stood your ground with Jenni, calling on Georgia to come back and cover. Before Georgia could grasp what you were saying over the volume of the crowd, Spain had regained possession via Alexia as she slotted a pass of pin point accuracy across to Olga Carmona who running at full speed down the wing, the wing in which Lucy should reside. Damn Lucy Bronze and her spontaneous spurts of energy. Your legs moved faster than your mind as you raced across the pitch, attempting to thwart Spain’s promising attack but before you could get there, Carmona struck the ball with a perfection that many could only dream of. You watched as the ball soared across the goal, straight at the right post and hit the back of the net as Mary stretched out fully.

The save never came.

Everything went silent.

Spain had scored and there was nothing you could do about it.

Your ears tuned back into reality as you watched Olga lift her shirt to reveal a message in celebration, you watched as her teammates, including your wife, rushed to pile her into a group hug. You watched as your own teammates sauntered back to the half way line in despair, knowing that your decision to stick back could’ve been the decider that cost a goal in potentially the most important game of your career.

Despite all this, you couldn’t help but feel a warmth inside you as you saw Alexia, the look of pure passion and happiness on her face, a look you missed seeing when she played. Your wife had assisted the goal to put her team ahead in a World Cup final and despite it being against your beloved England, you couldn’t help but feel a small sense of joy for the woman you loved.

——

Half time couldn’t have come any sooner as you wiped your brow and plodded off the field, exhausted from both the physical and emotional battles that the first half had brought.

The dressing room was tense, Sarina was in the centre of it offering a motivating team talk, a team talk you payed little attention to as all you could think about was how you selfishly hoped she’d pull you off at half time. You’d never ask to come off but if she did decide to take you off in that moment, you couldn’t help but feel you’d be happy for the rest as the pregnancy was seriously impacting your energy levels.

To your disappointment, your prayers were not answered and you were forced to likely endure another 45 minutes of football, despite the ache that persisted throughout your body. You gathered into the huddle of your teammates, just as the second half was about to commence.

“You alright y/n?” Asked Lucy, concern etched in her face

“Mhm just a little exhausted” you assured the older woman

“Well vamos chica let’s kick some Spanish ass!” Cheered Lucy, as the huddle broke up and everyone returned to their positions.

——

The second half started slowly with near enough no excitement, England has their chances throughout but none of them connected, hitting the crossbar or going just wide every time.

That didn’t stop Spain from fighting for a second all throughout, a second they might be coming close to.

Aitana dribbled through the English midfield as if they were cones in her training drill, leaving each one for dead and proceeding to boot in your direction. You met her run, using your body to shield your goal as she curved to the left, in an attempt to foil you but you stood your ground. Hands behind your back, body perfectly positioned as you blocked her powerful cross that would’ve found Jenni, unmarked in the box had it not been for your body. The ball went out for a corner as you let out a small sigh of relief which didn’t last long as you moved to mark none other than your wife on the edge of the box.

“Hola bebita” alexia grinned, in an attempt to distract you

“Shut up Putellas” you countered, causing her to roll her eyes and laugh from behind you, where her body was flush against your back, albeit a little softer than usual. Likely due to the precious cargo you carried.

Mariona aligned herself at an angle with the corner flag, holding one arm in the air to signal the corner routine.

A split second later she struck her foot to release the ball, a ball heading in your direction. You jumped and full power, in an attempt to beat a most definitely taller Alexia to the ball. Alexia jumper almost in sync, mind set on nothing but ensuring the ball reached the back of the net. However, neither of you made it to the ball and Alexia’s head collided sharply with the back of your head, causing a wave of pain to wash over you and your whole body to crumple forwards due to the shock, Alexia landing half on top of you.

You screamed out in pain as everything went black.

“Y/N!” Screamed Mary as she watched blood drip from your head.

“MEDIC NOW!” Yelled Lucy as the medical staff came rushing over to your unconscious form.

Alexia rubbed her head in pain as she sprung up at the commotion, met with the sight of her wife bleeding on the floor. Her pregnant wife, hurt, because if her. Reality kicked in at that moment.

“No no no no mi amor.” She pleaded “Lo siento, lo siento” she beckoned as she crouched down, eyes wide in horror at the sight in front of her.

She felt an arm grip her shoulder and pull her back and was met with the faces of Chloe Kelly and Lauren James as they shoved her away, screaming abuse in her face.

You’d regained consciousness as this point as the medics shone a light in your face and began assessing the wound.

“She’s pregnant” Mary announced to the medics, as they nodded with a look of pure worry that elicited a sinking feeling in the stomachs of those present.

Your teammates huddled close by, with concern present on all of their faces. Alexia fought her way back through pleading to you.

“Go away Alexia” was all you could manage before you slipped back out of consciousness.

Alexia’s heart broke at the sight, you blamed her, you thought she’d done it on purpose, shock set into her body as she watched in horror as the medical team loaded you onto a stretcher and stretched you off to medical.

“¡Quiero ir con ella!” Alexia demanded towards Vilda who shook his head and began lecturing her in Spanish. She protested consistently but eventually agreed to play the final 10 minutes, out of fear of punishment, not to herself by the younger players, should she argue any further.

The final whistle felt like an eternity later. Alexia having done nothing but fight the urge to run off the pitch in the final 10 minutes. Spain had won the World Cup but Alexia had no desire to celebrate with her team, all she wanted was to run to her wife and ensure you and the baby were okay. She was stopped by a firm grip on her hands as Vilda shoved her in the direction of the team. She shoved him right back, a moment she knew would be plastered all over social media later. A problem that could wait for the future.

As she was stopped again, Alexia spotted her mother in the crowd and signalled for her to find you and her mother did so, barging past security and into the tunnel.

Alexia slipped past everyone, ignoring the beckoning of the Spanish staff and bolted into the tunnel, knowing that the media would tear her apart later, calling her “cocky” “overrated” and “ungrateful” for her obvious disinterest in the trophy and general celebration but she did not care. The only thing on her mind in that moment was her family. No medal, trophy or football game was more important that you or her child.

After a frantic search she located you, accompanied by your medical staff and her mother and sister.

“Mi Estella, lo siento mucho” she pleaded, tears welling in her eyes

“I know Ale you didn’t mean it” you mumbled weakly

“No of course not amor! Are you okay? El bebé? Is the baby okay?” She rambled, ignoring the look of pure shock on her mother and sister’s face.

“We’re running tests now, just prepping an ultra sound machine” informed one of the doctors, as he squirted a blue gel across the gentle curve of your stomach.

“I’m so sorry querida” tears were streaming now “I hurt you! I hurt our bebita” she spluttered cupping your face as you felt the doctor begin to move the probe over your stomach.

“Ale no it’s okay, i’m okay look” you gestured towards the ultrasound machine

A steady heart beat filled the room.

A grainy image of your baby filled the screen.

The baby was okay.

“Oh, gracias a Dios” her mother exclaimed, relieved at the health of her grandchild that she’d only learnt existed moments ago.

“YOU’RE PREGNANT?!” Yelled Alba

“Sí lo siento for not telling you both, I found out during the tournament, we’ve been trying for months” you smiled, tears in your eyes.

The ultrasound technician wiped the gel with a tissue before printing out several copies of the image.

Your wife was unbelievably silent, staring, mouth wide at the ultrasound.

“Alexia” you called

“Te quiero más que a nada” she breathed. “I’m so sorry mi amor, I’ve missed you so much” she placed a gentle kiss to your lips, squeezing your hands firmly with her sweaty ones, before she placed a second kiss to your bump.

“I’m so glad we’re together again mi vida” you replied with a smile, touching your foreheads together.

“I so hope it’s a girl so she can be alba junior!” Raved the younger Putellas sister

“ALBA!” Alexia and Eli retorted simultaneously.

~~~~~

Thank you so much for reading this series, please send any requests in my inbox and any feedback too i love you all <3

[madschiavelique]

𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 (𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨'𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was rumbling from the ground, right underneath you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Same here, see ya," said Hobie.

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

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

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

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

Oh, it won't be sleep.

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

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

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

His nose wrinkled slightly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His eyes crinkled with his smile.

"Mira que buena."

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

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

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

"Tell me more about these desires you mentioned.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I want you to fuck me."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I want you to fuck me."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Fuck me, please."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hang on," he whispered between two kisses.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Say that again."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Use your words," he said simply.

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

He nodded, proud.

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

Timidly, you parted your lips.

"Wider," he ordered in a calm voice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ready?"

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

"Ready."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Qué guapa," he breathed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How did you know?" he whispered.

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

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

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

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

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

"Two letters?" he asked, curious.

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

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

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

Us, two letters, a whole world.

[dreamermonica]

“how much do you love me?”

in which you question the extent of their love out of the blue.

—includes itoshi sae, itoshi rin, michael kaiser, mikage reo, nagi seishiro, isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, barou shouei

—gender neutral reader, isagi is the only normal one AGAIN, trigger warning for kais*r himself, established relationships, fluff, crack, nagi’s got a bit too real for a sec, some swearing, yeah this is reminiscent of my most popular post on genshinblr what abt it😤

SAE surprisingly ponders your question. years of your random questions getting ignored has its effects, and it is definitely the reason you're now staring at him like a madman, ready to catch his response in an instant. oh my, you think your heart isn't ready for this. what could your lovely and handsome boyfriend say that'll effectively swoop you off your fee—

“as much as one would love a rock, i guess.”

you whine as you throw your head back in frustration, sliding off the couch dramatically, earning him a scoff. “so mean! and unromantic too! pick a disability, not multiple!”

“well, you're as dumb as a rock. can't have too much in this world, unfortunately.”

a pout makes its way to your features, before suddenly switching into a suspicious frown when you see a small smile creeping on his face.

wait...you're as dumb as a rock?

“oh...?” your face immediately looks up at him. “and how much do you love this stupid rock exactly...?”

seeing that you finally caught on his antics, a heart-fluttering chuckle escapes his lips, his eyes shut in amusement as your heart beat quickens at the melodious sound.

“a lot—as in more than anything in this world.”

RIN ignores you. acts like you never spoke in the first place. why? hah, his pride's too high for him to even properly answer that. even if he said something that's relatively joking or teasing, it'd be lying in a way, right? so what purpose would it solve in answering your question? exactly. none. so you get no response, whatsoever.

“rin-chan, answer my question, please?”

radio silence.

“rrrrrrrrrin. rinnnnnn. riiiiiiiiiiin. RIN!”

he still continues on walking, gaze still ahead whilst you struggle to waddle along with his wide strides, opting to grab his arms as to not get left behind.

“itoshi rin! just how much do you love m—”

he places his gloved hand flat against your face, shutting you up as he moves you away from his line of sight. his teal stare still bored and unbothered.

“any louder and you'll attract attention. i don't want paparazzi stuck to us for the rest of the day.”

you narrow your eyes at him as he practically drags you along, legs unable to keep up with his pace. “i don't see how that refrains you from answering my question, though.”

“i won't answer a question you already know the answer to, so shut up.”

you blink twice, swearing you just saw his cheeks go a bit red for a quick second. were you seeing things...?

KAISER, the mischief, always has to edge you on for a bit before giving you what you want. (🤨📸) it's how he functions as a partner—never failing to be an infuriating piece of shit who gets on your nerves whenever he gets a chance. what makes you think now would be an exception?

“hmm...” he hums with that annoying curl of his lips once more, feigning thoughtfulness. “what do you think?”

“more than you love yourself?” you guess expectantly.

but with how he gasps dramatically at you, all your expectations of the narcissistic king drop like dead flies. your expression must’ve also dropped without you noticing, because now, your asshole of a boyfriend is cackling at you. you mercifully resist the urge to hit his annoyingly pretty face as you pout and face away from him with a huff.

“what’s with that glare? i didn’t mean it, you know.” yet he continues to snicker like a child.

“what did i even expect from you…" you sigh, visibly deflating in disappointment as you stand up to leave. “i’m an idiot.”

“yep, you are for even believing i’d—” wrapping his arms around your frame, he pulls you onto his lap with yet another shit-eating grin of his. “—let you go like that. now gimme a kiss, chuu—”

pushing away his exaggerated puckered lips from your face, still glaring at him. “what do you say first, my liebe?”

he chuckles, half of his face flat against your palm that’s pushing him away. “i’m very sorry. i love you more than anything. well, except my side chicks—” your glare turns into a scowl. “—just kidding! i love you, baby. so much that i’d give up anything in this world just to see you smile.”

removing your hand from his face, you finally let him attack you with his kisses.

REO smugly raises his black card. well, it would’ve been a lot more cool and impressive if he didn’t practically jump out of the couch in his pajamas and full-on sprinted to his bedroom to fetch it. was he waiting for this question for a long time now?

“…what’s that have to do with—”

“i love you, as much as the amount within this baby right here. if not, then more!” he slaps the who-knows-how-much card onto the coffee table, gazing at you with excitement not much unlike a puppy waiting for the coos and praises of its owner after fetching them a stick.

adorable. so goddamn cute. ahhhhh. you want to rip your hair out.

“how long were you waiting for this moment…?” why does this scene seem so familiar?

"a long time. i saw this while reading one of the romance novels you had, and i just had to do it.” he smiles sheepishly at you. “was my excitement a dead giveaway or…?”

that explains the feeling of deja vu, then. you remember getting giddy over that specific scene. mindlessly, you snort at the fact that this man has more achievements than anyone you’ve ever known yet he’s still trying to impress you. jesus. he’s so…

you lean over to him, grasping his hand in your own. “you know, you look so kissable right now.”

he perks up immediately. “heh—then, don’t mind me if i do.”

NAGI hums, animatedly tapping away at his game, not sparing you a glance. “would it be bad if i said that question’s a hassle?”

“…? why do you think so?”

“well…you’re only asking that because you want me to say something that’ll uh…make you blush or something right?” he starts, voice remaining bored as ever. “but if i don’t manage to, you’ll be dissatisfied or even use it as leverage to get mad at me to get my attention.”

you frown. “what are you—”

“i don’t mean it in a bad way.” he finally looks at you, a bold ‘victory!’ visible on his phone screen. “it’s not that i’m not willing to indulge you—it’s just that i don’t really know how to be romantic, and i also don’t wanna make you sad so…”

you blink when he performs a beckoning motion with his fingers, silently requesting for you to come near him.

complying with a raised brow, your confusion is immediately replaced by shock, and maybe a tad bit of warmth as the tall boy’s arm wrap themselves around your form, pulling you down with him with a small ‘oof’.

“n—nagi!?” you squirm.

“i love you a lot, [name].” he nuzzles his face onto your hair, his next words a bit muffled as they left his lips. “so don’t get mad at me, please?”

how in the world are you going to get mad at this goddamn sloth when he’s acting like this??

ISAGI blinks. scanning your face for a moment for any uncertainty or insecurity that might’ve influenced your posed question. but when he finds none, redness takes control of his entire face like a infectious parasite.

“why do you want to know?” his voice is meek, most likely caught off guard by such a direct question.

“just curious.” you reply, smiling at the way he seems so wrapped up in your finger despite it being so loose. “you don’t have to answer though. it’s quite an open question—vague and has a lot of possible answers.”

he stares down at his palm, carefully planning out his next choice of words for your inquiry. he really wants to provide an answer, something that shows he’s completely confident in your relationship. but…

how much he loves you? how is he even going to start?

“i’m not really sure how to put it but,” he starts, determination on his expression as he turns to look at you. “i’m certain i love you a lot. not sure just how much exactly but…”

“if it could go by anything, i think about you so much that my first instinct in the morning is to grab my phone and text you a good morning,” he adds on while rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “i-i don’t know. was that a good way of putting it? there’s also the fact that i always unconsciously brew two coffees even when we don’t live together, and oh! there’s also that time i—”

too caught up in his mind to recount the times his love had overshadowed his rationality and normalcy, he fails to see the lovestruck gaze given by a certain someone, completely and utterly in love with the man chatting away that you could probably see hearts in those [e/c] irises.

just wait till you start on sharing your side of the relationship.

BACHIRA grins impishly as he takes out a ruler, pulling down an imaginary board from thin air whilst putting on some nerdy glasses from nowhere. he points the tip of the ruler on an equation, your face now deadpan.

what is he doing…?

“the formula for measuring my love for [name]! note; very easy!”

you snort at his antics, before deciding to play along as you nod for him to continue.

with his ever-present grin, he taps the board with his ruler, adjusting his glasses as if to catch your attention like a typical teacher. “now, [name], can you try to answer this equation for me? these glasses are kinda blurry.”

n-no teaching or guides at all? uhm, okay.

you suck in a breath, gazing at the imaginative board with an unperturbed focus.

[name]’s infinite beauty x [name]’s infinite kindess x [name]’s infinite funniness equals N…what are these variables?

this shouldn’t even be a working equation but if you’re playing with how bachira’s mind works, then…“infinite?”

“yes!" he swoops in lowly and sweeps you off your feet, a yelp escaping your lips as he lifts you up bridal style. “looks like i have to add [name]’s infinite smartness into the equation too, what do you say?”

“whatever you want. but i think i need to mention that infinity isn’t actually a number so i think you’ll have to make a different formula—”

“jokes on you, i won’t let the laws of math deter me from figuring out the estimate of my infinite love!”

BAROU sneers. making quite an ugly face that forces you to be wary if he’s about to spit in your face or not.

“hah, when and where did you hear that i, the king, loved you, a mere peasant??”

raising a brow at him, you quickly throw a glance at the bouquet of flowers delicately placed onto a polishes and refined vase, the glint of its glassy appearance reminding you who it undoubtedly came from, and whom it was given to.

“at the front of that bakery you like, around 3pm on a sunday a few weeks ago, after i gave you flowers, you replied to my confession by saying—” you’re promptly cut off as an oven mitt is unceremoniously thrown at your face.

“what the hell?” he says breathlessly, letting out an unbelieving scoff as he crosses his arms. like a tsundere. “why do you even remember all that? creep.”

“well, you see, it was the first time king barou had bared his feelings towards me. an extremely rare moment, even though we’re basically dating right now.”

his eye twitches. “WHO THE HELL SAID WE WERE DATING?!”

“eh?” your sarcasm is immediately gone. “you said you loved me back, so i thought that—”

“is that why you’re always in my goddamn house unannounced??” he cuts you off, again.

“it’s kinda late to retract my view of our status now though. your sisters really like me as your lover for some reason.”

he responds with a groan, muttering something about how his soccer is now doomed by some outsider. silly king. he doesn’t even notice that he could always kick you out, yet simply chooses not to.

no i didn’t add a part where they’d explicitly have to theoretically choose between you or soccer because lets be fr they’d all choose to kick a ball forever over some head

its 3am rn (no beta we die like men) so if theres a few typos or pronoun and grammatical errors that ive missed, please do tell me!

[corvidae-00]

Joost Klein x drunk!reader in the club🎉🎉🥳 (but she’s like messy drunk and probably needs to be cut off)

A/n: MY FIRST REQUEST 😭😭 THANK YOU ANON! I had tons of fun writing this for you! I hope you like it 😭

CW: weed, drinking, throwing up, swearing, clubbing, LET ME KNOW IF I MISS ANYTHING!!!!!

Word count: 1,297

Getting drunk was something that wasn't the norm for you, not that you didn't drink but you always were lenient at getting DRUNK. But it was a good night, Your boyfriend and his group had just finished a concert that went super well and with adrenaline and energy still high everyone decided the night club was a good location to let loose and enjoy the rest of the night while its young. You of course decided to let loose a little- just a little tonight seeing as your boyfriend Joost was so ecstatic and you had so much energy from being in the crowd who was loud and very very expressive tonight. The club was surprisingly packed and that just added to the excitement even more. “We are going to have a good night, yes?’ your boyfriend whispered into your ear leaning down and kissing your cheek with a smile “of course” you reach back to run your fingers through his hair that was still damp from the many water bottles he had poured over himself to cool down. He shudders and sighs into your ear before standing up and stretching a little looking over at his friends and back over at you sliding you his card from his wallet “Get yourself something to drink- i might lay off the alcohol tonight-” he thinks to himself deciding a few cigarettes and maybe a joint or two sounded a lot better than getting drunk and dealing with a hangover ontop of exhaustion the next morning “then come meet us over there-” he points over at a little less crowded part of the club “maybe me and you can test the dance floor” Joost winks leaning down to kiss both your cheeks which you accepted before catching his lips in a quick kiss “Ill be over in a second” You hummed “Save me a seat-” you requested stepping back towards the crowded bar. Joost smirks and pats his thigh with a wink “you always have one if you ask” He purrs and you can feel your face flush before waving him off “go sit down” You chuckle before turning on your heel going towards the bar ignoring the cat call your boyfriend sends your way but you cant ignore the small smile and a laugh making its way up your throat.

You dont actually know what happened. One drink turned into two before you could stop and then three- you knew you were supposed to go back to meet up with Joost and your friend but the drink you randomly picked out was just- so good- and before you could even step away you had finished the glass and got another. Clearly the alcohol in the drink was a lot stronger than what you were used too as you began to get fuzzy and eager for the next drink- the bartender not realizing how quickly your tolerance was dwindling- and you were also admittedly not aware of how quickly your once steady standing turned unsteady and how quickly vomiting sounded pretty nice, on your 8th glass you ended up leaning on the counter to support yourself drunkenly singing along to the fast paced dutch song blasting out of the stereos at the head of the club- the people around you joining in on your own little concert you didn't even realize was pretty loud. Ordering another drink unable to even lift your arm without feeling tingly or nauseous you felt a hand grab your shoulder “I have a boyfriend you fuck-” You whip your head around and look at the chest that greets you “Ugh men-” You slur and look up at concerned blue eyes “ shit schat- your fucking hammered” Joost mutters smelling the sweet alcoholic drink on your breath “How much did you have?” he questions a little worried as you blink and then giggle a little “You are so hot-” you mutter falling into his arms a little “how did i bag a beauty like youuuu~” you giggle running your fingers over his shoulders and Joost wraps his arms around your waist to support your unsteady weight “so warm” You flutter your eyelashes at him closing your eyes and humming in content “You are drunk” Joost hums smiling down at you a little “How did you get so drunk- i leave you alone for a few minutes” He raises a brow not an ounce of anger or disappointment in his voice- if anything he is amused- you dont ever get drunk so what was different today? Joost reaches behind you grabbing your half drank beverage and taking a swig surprised at the intensity of the Alcohol count “Holy shit-” He blinks and looks down at you “i didnt know you were that hardcore” He laughs dodging your hands which are now trying to touch his face in sheer admiration “it’s nuuthing” you giggle out running your fingers through his hair “mmsoft” you chuckle letting Joost gently pull you away from the bar after confirming with the tender the bill was payed not worried about the expenses. Joost tugs you along letting you drag your feet every now and again not too worried about how heavy you were as you werent heavy at all to him, just a cute bundle of drunken mumblings and yelling at women who even look at Joost- threatening to fight them outside even if you couldnt stand by yourself- your threats or reasonings for being mad not even making sense and thus causing your blonde boyfriend to sheepishly wave and look down at you with slight amusement. Once outside Joost lets you get some fresh air, the club too stuffy and heavy to even think straight let alone feel better after getting hammered. “I dont feel good” you finally slur out hanging your head in defeat “i dont doubt it mijn liefje” he whispers to you rubbing your back before quickly pulling your hair up letting you throw up the insane amount of alcohol in your body. Joost winces and rubs your back with his free hand. You blink slowly once you are able to stand up straight, “Ugh” you groan out holding your head and Joost takes out some napkins he had in his back pocket to wipe your mouth and shake his head “we should get you back to the apartment” Joost offers and you pout “But the night is still younggg” you whine and joost takes your arm wrapping it over his shoulders careful to lean down so he doesnt hurt or stretch your arm out “theres always another night” He hums to you and starts leading you away towards your shared home careful and slow listening to your slurred complaints and compliments mixed in always something about how wonderful his hair looks or how special he is to her.

When they get home Joost is quick to lay you down in the bed and get your shoes off and changing your flimsy drunk figure into a pair of soft pajamas. He kisses your cheek and laughs softly “you are so cute” He admits standing up straight “No you are” You retaliate looking up at him and giggling. Joost quickly leaves the room and comes back with a glass of cold water and sets it down on the night stand before climbing into bed with you discarding his shirt and scooping you towards him. “Feeling any better?” he questions running his fingers through your hair “jus a lil” you mumble snuggling yourself into him the room spinning slightly “Thats okay, ill take care of you tomorrow” Joost hums leaning over and turning the lamp off “Just take it easy” He kisses your forehead “and next time there is alcohol im monitoring you” He jokes laughing at your groans of disagreement

Dutch meaning: schat- babe. Mijn liefje- my darling

A/n: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE LOVE ON MY FIRST JOOST FIC!!! Keep the requests coming!!! I love writing for this man

[sincerelyneo]

no judgement | l.mk

“i can be your lover or your shoulder to cry on, you can be whoever you like”

💿now playing: no judgement by niall horan

❯ summary: Mark’s shocked to see you at his front door step crying, but he isn’t surprised. You do this all the time - get a new boyfriend and forget about your childhood best friend. And the minute that asshole dumps you, you always want him to pick up the pieces. And he will. He always does.

❯ pairings: mark x fem!reader (brief mention of yuta)

❯ genre: friends to strangers to lovers? smut, angst

❯ words: 4.9k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, protected sex, lowkey sub!mark, hookup, rebound sex, glasses kink, big dick mark bc yes, oral sex (m receiving), nipple play, slight begging, yuta is an asshole for the plot, reader is also kinda mean, mentions of cheating (not between mark + y/n), slight unrequited love, use of ‘pretty girl’, reader uses she/her pronouns.

Mark thinks his mind is playing tricks on him. I mean - it would make sense - the last time he’d checked the clock on his desk it was 12:17 am. So, there’s no way the light knocking on his front door is really happening…right? 

He tries to focus on the papers in front of him - a work assignment that was due last week that he’d already managed to get an extension on. He knows his boss will have his balls if he doesn’t have it completed and on his desk by 8:00 am sharp tomorrow (today). 

However, Mark’s fears of premature insanity are put to a quick end this time when the knocking is paired with an unnecessarily loud yelling through his letter box. 

“Mark Lee if you don’t open this door right now, I swear I’ll kick your ass the next time I see you.” 

Now that - the sound of your voice - wasn’t in his imagination. 

You bang harder, clear that you're using a fully clenched fist to make as much noise as possible.  “I’m serious dude, I’ve kicked your ass before, and I’ll do it again. Now open. The. Door.” 

Mark knows he should just ignore you, pretend that he’s sleeping and focus on his work; but, he hasn’t seen you in months, and you are supposed to be his best friend after all. He can’t just leave you out on the street at this hour — he won’t — what sort of friend would he be?

He rises from his desk, removes his glasses, and places them gently on the wooden surface before pinching the bridge of his nose.

You knock (pound) again. 

“‘Alright alright, jeez, I’m coming,” he says, followed by a small curse as he ushers through his hallway to the front door. 

As he swings the door open, he’s almost hit with a nasty sucker punch to the cheek as you simultaneously raise your fist to knock again.

“Woah there, calm down, you’re gonna get me a noise complaint,” he flinches. 

“I think it’s a little too late for that,” you point to the house next door, “That woman has been glaring at me from her window since I got here.” 

Mark peers out of his house, the cold night air nipping at the tips of his ears, and sees his neighbour looking down shaking her head disapprovingly at him. He raises his hand in a feeble apology, with a tight-lipped smile to ease the edge, but it doesn’t, he knows it doesn’t and he knows he’s going to have to do a lot of ass kissing in the morning. 

“Well, Mrs Kim and her husband have just had a baby.” 

He watches you shrug then grimace, “How was I supposed to know that? They didn’t have one the last time I was here.” 

It’s now when Mark takes in the person standing in front of him, a mere silhouette of his childhood best friend. You’re barefoot, which already raises questions in his mind, and a bottle of wine is in your hand. Your hair is dishevelled and mascara smudged under the bottom of your eye – which makes sense since he can see the faded redness from where he knows you’ve been crying. 

 “So, you gonna let me in or what? I’m freezing my ass off out here.”

Well obviously, Mark thinks, you’re wearing nothing but a short black dress, covered by a thin sheer blazer leaving your legs completely bare in the middle of winter. Your teeth chatter and he has to suppress the smile threatening to dance on his lips because it reminds him of when the two of you used to mess around in the snow during winter break back in high school.

But he pushes those memories to the side, just like his front door, as he makes enough room for you to slip into his house. As you step inside, you waste no time making yourself comfortable - old habits die hard you guess - remembering how things used to be.

You remove the blazer you're wearing and walk over to Mark's desk, draping it over the back of his chair. Your eyes fall on the sheets of paper scattered across the surface, partially covered by his glasses. You recall that he had stopped wearing them during junior year, opting for contacts instead - a decision you found disappointing. You had always liked his glasses; they made him look kind of... cute.

“I’m not interrupting you, am I?”

Yes. 

“Nah, not really,” Mark shrugs following in from behind you. 

“Really?” You ask picking up a sheet of paper as you raise an eyebrow, “Marketing campaign for neo gummies, on my desk Monday 8:00 am.”

There’s a smile on your face as you read it because it’s nice to know that the Mark standing in front of you is the same as the one you grew up with. He was always the last person to hand in his college assignments, and school science projects; but don’t get it wrong, he’d always ace them. 

“Don’t worry about it, I’ve basically finished it.”

Mark’s lying, and you can easily tell by the way his arm reaches up to scratch the back of his neck. It's a mannerism you've become aware of, noticing how he used to do it when you asked him for his opinions on some of your uglier fashion choices throughout high school. 

“You sure?” You add, “I wouldn’t want you getting in trouble with your boss or anything. Especially now that you live in this fancy-ass townhouse, your mortgage payments must be crazy.”

Mark shakes his head with a smile, reaching for his glasses and putting them back on. “They’re not that crazy…”

You give him a knowing look, his living room alone is practically the size of most apartments in the city. But you didn’t expect anything less from him, he’d always worked hard for everything he had. He graduated with flying colours, found a high-paying job after college, bought a nice house; and you’re sure that one day he’d secure himself a nice girl to live in it with him. 

What you’re trying to say is Mark Lee had something to show for himself, which is more than you can say after you took a more leisurely approach to college. Mark had always worked a little too hard for your liking, or maybe you just worked a little too easy for his. Either way, he’s the one with his life put together and you’re just…standing barefoot in his living room, looking a mess, with a bottle of alcohol in your hand.  

“Well then, since I’m not imposing, how ‘bout a drink?” You suggest, waving the bottle of wine in the air in an attempt to win him over and distract yourself from your own reality. As shitty as it sounds, you come to Mark to escape the chaos of your own life, so dwelling on comparisons isn't something you want to keep doing.

For Mark though, he knows he shouldn't indulge in a drink – after all, the work assignment on his desk is practically begging to be completed. But he's always struggled to say no to you, and he's well aware that you know that too. It's why you're so comfortable knocking on his door in the early hours of the morning when most of the city is asleep; you know he'll always open up for you.

And that’s exactly why he’s heading into his kitchen and rooting through his cabinets until he finds two wine glasses. 

When he comes back into the living room, he finds you standing by the fireplace. It's not unusual, considering you were freezing just moments ago on his doorstep from your attire. However, what catches him off guard is that you're not warming yourself by the fire; instead, you're holding a picture – Mark's favourite one – taken by his parents on the day you got your wisdom teeth removed.

"No way you kept this," you groan, though there's a hint of laughter in your voice.

"Of course I did. You were completely out of it on anaesthesia, going on about marrying Lee Taemin," Mark replies.

You squeeze your eyes shut, remembering the way you sent the hot senior you had a crush on in your freshman year a DM in your high state. “Oh gosh, don’t remind me.”

But truthfully, that's not the sole reason Mark kept that picture, or why he still chooses to display it despite having hundreds of clearer, better ones of the two of you together. He treasures that particular photo because it was the day you told him you loved him – although you never brought it up again. Mark pins it down to you not remembering from the anaesthetic, but that photo, it’s the last slither of hope he has left. 

“Well, I must say, Mark Lee, you have had quite the glow-up since your high school days,” you laugh putting the picture back on the fireplace. 

Mark can't believe his cheeks are warming up as if he were that same teenager – pathetic, he thinks. And he wants to say the same about you, but he hardly recognizes you. You're a completely different person from the girl in the picture, and while he loves you, truly, it doesn't change the fact that you're a mess sitting before him.

To his defence, it's impossible not to notice it; he saw it the moment he opened the door and saw your smudged makeup and raw eyes – you’re defeated. And even though he knows precisely why, he still asks.

 "What are you doing here, Y/N?"

You swallow, “Can’t I just come and see my best friend?”

“No, you can’t.”

His words carry a double-edged sword, both an accusation directed at you and an expression of the hurt he's experienced from your repeated instances of ghosting him over the last few months. 

You begin pouring yourself a generous glass of the wine you brought along. If you were going to have this conversation with him, you weren't about to do it sober.

“Yuta broke up with me.”

And there it is. You always do this –  get a new boyfriend and forget about your childhood best friend. And the minute the asshole in question dumps you, you always want him to pick up the pieces. 

And Mark hadn't forgotten the name Yuta; in fact, it had been seared into his mind ever since you posted a picture with him on your Instagram account, looking all lovey-dovey. And then Mark had gone into full stalker mode – because of course he did – he always did. But the thing with Yuta was that he was one step ahead. One particularly awful day at work, when Mark wanted to check your account, he found himself blocked.

Honestly, Mark doesn’t blame Yuta, he’d be lying if he said all his thoughts about you were completely innocent, but you’d never blocked him over a guy before. He's accustomed to the isolation, the ghosting, and the personality changes that come with you getting a new boyfriend; but being digitally blocked by you was a new low. It's safe to say Mark had already formed his opinion about your new ex-boyfriend: he was definitely an asshole.

"Why did he break up with you?" he asks, not out of genuine concern, but rather out of selfish relief. Still, he knows it's the right thing to do.

“He found someone else, or I found him fucking someone else,” you spit bitterly, “and do you know what? That fucker didn’t even give me a chance to grab my shoes before he kicked me out.”

You take a long gulp from your glass, the liquid burning slightly as it goes down your throat, and then you flop back on the sofa. Your movements are heavy, weighed down by more than just the alcohol in your system. As you sink into the cushions, a wave of emotion crashes over you, threatening to engulf you completely. It's a moment of vulnerability that you've been holding back, and tears prickle at the corners of your eyes. You try to fight them, push down the rising tide of emotions, but it's futile. 

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he reassures, quickly taking a seat beside you on the sofa and resting a gentle hand on your thigh, where he begins to rub small, soothing circles into your skin, just like he used to do. "You can stay here tonight."

You groan into your hands, you can’t believe you're acting like this – pathetic – and it has you immediately defensive. “Don’t look at me like that,” you mutter, so quiet Mark almost misses it.

“Like what?”

“All judgy.”

“When have I ever judged you, Y/N?” he questions, his tone gentle, “I’m always your shoulder to cry on, we’re past the judgement stage,”

"I don't cry that much," you protest weakly.

“Well…” he starts, that teasing look in his eye you love.

In response, you push his chest playfully, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Because you’ve missed this – missed him.

And that’s the part that always stings the most: how effortlessly you two slip back into each other's company. Despite not speaking for a couple of months, it's like you didn’t lose any time. And perhaps that's why Mark finds it so easy to keep forgiving you, and why you find it so natural to slide in and out of his life and then expect him to mend your broken heart.

Mark grabs the hand you used to push his chest and looks at you seriously but gently, “Seriously, Y/N, you can just be yourself with me, just like it’s always been.”

His words resonate with you, stirring something deep within the pit of your stomach. You meet his gaze with glossy eyes, and in that moment, you feel an overwhelming surge of emotion. Without hesitation, you lean in and press your lips to his. 

It's a tender kiss, soft and sweet just how you expected Mark’s lips to be. And he melts into it just as much as you do, if not more so. It’s like he craves it, like he’s hungry for it. And he is because you – his first-ever crush, the girl he’s been in love with since he could remember – is pressing her lips to his. The teenager in him is jumping up and down right now.

Just as you're about to deepen the kiss, your face bumps into his glasses, causing both of you to pause as they sit askew on his face. Mark blushes and begins to fumble with them, but just as he's about to take them off, your hand wraps around his and stops him.

“Mmmm. Keep ‘em on,” you bite your lip as you reposition them on the bridge of his nose. “I like them.”

“I didn't realize you had a glasses kink,” he teases.

“Neither did I...just like them on you.”

That triggers something inside of him because his tongue lightly sweeps over your bottom lip where he nips it with his teeth. One of his hands reaches up to cup the nape of your neck; the other finds its way to the hem of your dress, intrusive fingers brushing over your bare skin, making you gasp.

He stills.

Did he just fuck this up? Was he reading it wrong?

There’s a fraction of a beat where you just breathe against him, and Mark feels a twinge of self-consciousness. And just when he’s about to apologise, you dive into him and all reservations are thrown out the window as you give him the green light. 

His hand wraps around your waist and he pulls you over his lap to straddle him. It gives him all the access he needs to grab your thighs and lift you up as he stands. He keeps your lips connected as he wraps your legs around his waist, pressing into you just enough to feel the swelling in his crotch. 

If you thought he was hungry for it before, now he’s starving. 

Your arms wrap around his neck, your breasts crushing against his chest. Your hips start to move against him without any control, almost like it’s instinctual. You suck on his tongue and he groans. And God if it isn’t the sexiest sound you’ve ever heard. 

“You feel so fucking good, Y/N,” he says into your mouth, “Are we really doing this?”

You smile against his lips, “We’re doing this.”

You both take that as a confirmation to go harder, kissing like you’ve been starved of each other for years, and Mark supposes you have. His body moulds to yours and you feel his hand wander to your ass making your dress lift as he carries you out of the living room. 

When you see him heading for the staircase you know exactly where his head is at, and when he opens his bedroom door with you still in his arms, you feel wetness pool right between your legs. 

He drops you on the bed so gently and carefully not to hurt you – because even though he’s so goddamn horny right now – he’s still Mark. When your back hits the whites of his sheets it gives you a moment to look at him, his chest is heaving, lips swollen and cheeks flush. His hair is tousled and it makes your blood run cold. 

He looks like pure sex. Hot sex. Good, filthy, all-night-long sex. And you want him, more than you’ve ever wanted any man before in your life.

Mark kneels on the bed in the space between your legs, coming close enough to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, and you wonder if he sees you the same way you see him right now. He brushes your cheek gently with his thumb and you lean into his caress and plant a small kiss against his palm. 

His lips meet yours again as his hands slip between you two. They glide up your leg, to your stomach to under your dress, where he finds you not wearing a bra as your nipples pebble under his rough hands. 

Instinctively, your arms stretch over your head, reluctantly breaking the kiss so he can tug the material off and over you, lips crashing back together as you roll your hips into his with desperation and need. 

Mark groans when he pulls away to look at your naked chest in front of him, it’s a picture he thinks. One that needs to be hung up in an art gallery or some shit – actually now that he thinks about it – he hates the idea of you being on display like that for someone else.

His fingers wind themselves in your hair, a delightful shiver skittering along your body as you soften into his touch. You can’t help but grin suggestively as you look him in the eyes, top teeth holding down on your lower lip as your hands creep low enough to hook into the band of his pyjama bottoms. 

Mark practically whimpers as your hand teases at the elastic, “Please.”

The plea has you smiling wider, knowing exactly what he wants. You remove his bottoms without a second thought, the same time he strips from his t-shirt. His cock springs free, thick and long and straining so eagerly for you. 

You get a thrill knowing you’re the one who’s made him this hard and that makes you want to please him badly. So you do, taking control and flipping him over to be underneath you. He gasps at the motion and then he almost cums untouched at the sight of you kneeling between his legs, lowering yourself down just enough to kiss the tip of his cock.

The teasing touch sends a chill right through him. He leans back on his arms just to see you, eyebrows strained as he concentrates, glasses slightly fogged – he wants to remember exactly what you look like like this. You’re intoxicating, strong enough for him to get drunk on.

“So pretty,” he murmurs under a soft breath and you blush.

You lick your lips, focusing on his cock, flattening your tongue from the base all the way up to his head, where the slit is leaking with pre-cum. You hear him suck in a breath and it makes you smile. 

You like knowing he’s needy, teasing him to ignite small reactions, but continuing to do so would only be hell for you; because right now you want nothing more than to suck on his cock like it’s the last thing you’ll ever taste. 

You wrap your hand around his shaft and don’t waste another second before your mouth is sinking to suck on him. You manage all you can – there’s a lot of him – and use your fingers to move up the length you don’t swallow, stroking him painstakingly slow.   

As you kiss and lick at him, Mark is going mad because it’s your mouth. Your mouth is wet and hot and currently wrapped around him good enough that his thighs have started trembling. 

It’s not long before his hands find your hair and he helps you to slide more of his cock inside, knowing exactly when to stop instead of making you take too much. But he’s big and thick and your mouth barely covers him – which he hates – it feels like a reminder that he’s not made for you. 

The thought has him letting out a growl, which catches you by surprise from the whimpering mess he was seconds ago. The grip he has on your hair tightens. 

“Fuck, Y/N, suck me harder…” The dirty words sound dominant at first, but they trail off as you continue sucking on him, a lot like you’re melting him, and you fucking love that idea. 

The thought of having him be so desperate for you is making you wetter and needier. And it’s that need that has you reaching up to graze his nipples with your fingers. Mark finds the chill of your cold digits distinctive, responding with a mewl that rings between the walls of his room. 

You can't believe such a small touch makes him so…responsive. 

Every tug on his sensitive peak is enough to pull a sound from his pink lips, enough to make him writhe his hips and edge his cock further into your mouth. 

You twist and pinch and watch as Mark’s face twists in the feeling, mouth dropping open to release a stuttered breath. It’s so sensual - so carnal. 

You pull off his cock with a sickening pop, looking up at him with spit-covered lips. “Who would have guessed your nipples would be so sensitive?” 

Your hand stays at a steady pace, stroking him slowly as you speak. Mark shivers from the loss of your warm mouth around him, but there’s still a part of him that’s glad you stopped. But not because he doesn’t want this — he does, so badly — but because he was starting to feel his cock’s overwhelming urge to twitch with his orgasm. And there was no fucking way he was going to cum before he’d even buried himself inside you. 

In a cooling breath, he replies, “Only sensitive for you.” 

Warmth flushes on your face, and the arousal soaking between your legs begs to soak his cock. He’s so cute when he is all red-faced and whiny, eyes closed tightly as his brows knit together. And you suppose his own state of neediness triggers yours. 

“Want you inside of me now, Mark,” you pant, “Need it.” 

“Fuck~” his voice drips like honey as he moans, hands moving to grab at your waist to flip you under him.

You push yourself further up the bed and he crawls after you. It’s only now he realises the lace barrier still on your skin standing between you and his cock. Your panties are dark blue and they look so pretty against your skin.

He leans down, kissing the inside of your knee, letting his fingers slip up your ankle to cradle your smooth calf.

“Sometime tonight,” you tease.

But Mark likes to go slow, he likes to savour in your sight, study your body to remember every detail for his next late-night fantasy. He wants to bask in you being so bare and so ready for him — not your ex-boyfriend — him. 

He skims his hands further up your bare legs until he slides your underwear down and disregards them somewhere on the floor. Then, he wraps his arms around you, holding you close, pressing your chests together skin to skin. He likes it like that — being so close and so intimate with you that it's almost raw. 

He reaches into his nightstand and pulls out a condom. You don’t take your eyes off him once as he rips it open with his teeth and rolls it down the entirety of his length. Heat pools in your stomach because this is happening — and that makes your pussy throb. 

He keeps his eyes on yours as he lines himself up with your entrance, pushing inside of you, breathless. You can’t help but sink your head back into the mattress, eyes closing.

“Eyes open.”

You lazily blink them open.

“Eyes always on me pretty girl,” he demands, thrusting into you. 

You’ve never felt anything like him. You feel so full. He’s everywhere. Even your lungs and head are filled with him.

“Taking me so well pretty,” he groans.

His praise has you gushing, whining with the feeling of him stuffing you. It’s not awkward like the first time having sex with someone can be. It feels like you’ve always been doing this.

“You’re okay?” he asks.

He sounds calm, but you can see the restraint that he’s barely holding on to by the tightening in his jaw, and the tension in his brow.

“More than okay. Just fuck me, Mark. Please.”

He brushes his lips over yours and whispers, “Oh I plan to.”

You smile, but it’s quickly gone as he starts to move, fucking you slowly, then quicker and quicker, and harder and faster. The headboard is banging against the wall, surely denting it, and you know if the neighbours weren’t already pissed about your knocking they’d definitely be pissed now. 

And selfishly, you can’t find it in you to give a shit because he’s like a machine, working thrusts into you at all the right angles to elicit sweet moans from your lips. 

You’re panting and groaning like a bitch in heat. Mind fuzzy with euphoria as your flesh slaps loudly together. If college you knew that Mark Lee, your best friend, was about to give you an orgasm she would have laughed in your face. 

But, God, the man can fuck. 

He urges you onto his cock harder, clit rubbing against his pelvic bone, each time your hips connected in powerful thrusts. 

“Oh God, Mark,” you try your best to keep your eyes open, but the pleasure is threatening to consume you. 

“That’s it. Cum on my cock pretty girl. I won’t come until you do.”

The idea makes you want to hold off forever, let him fuck you for hours just to bask in the feeling of your closeness. However, your body disagrees with that sentiment, and suddenly you’re cumming hard. 

“Shit,” he hisses, feeling your walls flutter around his length. 

Mark doesn’t slow down though, he fucks you through your orgasm like a madman, hammering deep to the hilt to chase his high. 

“I’m gonna cum, Y/N…shit…fuck…” He growls a sound so erotic in your ear, you feel like you might cum again.

He sags onto you, his body heavy but not crushing, his skin warm against yours. You touch your fingers to his cheek. 

“I don’t think I can move,” he says, breathless.

“So, don’t.”

The tips of Mark’s ears turn red at the suggestion, but eventually, he figures he needs to move — much to his dismay. He eases out of you, catching hold of the condom and pulling it off his cock. He rolls off of you and out of bed to put it in the trash before he’s back next to you, arms engulfing you in a hug. 

You look up at him and he presses a kiss on your lips before pulling back. “Are you staying?” 

“Do you want me to?”

“I asked first.” He says.

“I’ll stay if you want me to stay.”

Liar.

Mark swallows, “Okay well, I’ll get us breakfast in the morning then, yeah?”

He says it but he knows come the morning you’ll have slipped out in the middle of the night because this isn’t the first time he’s had sex with you. 

Mark has always been your rebound. Yes, he’s your best friend, but he’s also your favourite hookup call when your boyfriend’s being an asshole.

And he knew that when he first heard you knocking on his front door. He knows you'll never change – and strangely, he's content with that, he’s accepted it. Because even though he knows you'll move on again, he doesn't mind keeping your secrets safe until the next time when you want a man to heal your heart.

Because Mark will settle for being a pity fuck if it means he gets to be a constant in your life.

[unabashednightmarepizza]

A/N: Okay I have been playing Genshin for quite some time now, and I'm sure my eyes are hurting like a bitch, but this is a quick idea( and also a short story of a series I'm writing) since I have been reading SAGAU and Creator!Reader works a lot!

Everyone thought, just like Creator!Reader did who played Genshin for hours and built the characters, that Mondstadt would be home. With the jolly people and freedom coursing through the air, and with Venti being the Spirit of Freedom, everyone would listen at least. You were just as terrrified yet also happy and confused as anyone could be, surely they wouldn't execute you, right?

Wrong, so painfully wrong.

Instead Creator!Reader was hunted down blindlessly, who only entered the city with a big smile but left it as soon as possible with a horrified look.

But instead... Razor and Bennett found the Creator!Reader, shivering in the cold with- Was that golden blood?

Razor, since he was raised by wolves, didn't have an exact understanding of the Creator but he listened to his family talk about Them, how they thanked Them with their howls for the food and family and shelter given to them and how they praised the Golden Blood of yours to keep flowing through your very being so that one day, you would come back to Teyvat.

Therefore he knew who you were but Bennett?

Poor boy grew up with the stories of yours! How you created new worlds where there were many different creatures, magic and every kind of ores... Or how you gifted them with many new weaponary and such, how you gave them life and what they have built so far.

How you let them live in peace through their Archon.

So, to see your body covered in Gold blood with a terrified look, their first reaction was to jump up and warm you immediately, patching up any wounds so that their Creator didn't suffer anymore.

But whatever the people must have done to you, had messed you up pretty bad because you, The Creator of All, whimpered in fear and pain, still shaking with your hands up defensively.

"P-Please don't hurt m-me... I swear I didn't mean t-to..."

So, that was how you were coddled up by these two babies while they wondered with rage coursing through them that who did this to you. They weren't stupid, since they were close to their City, they knew it was them and couldn't help but feel shame for their actions. Everyone had been expecting your arrival for quite some time, preparing feasts and what they would say to you in person and then they just...

Blinded by fake religion and ideas, tried to kill you.

How funny Teyvat was more like Earth than you ever imagined?

And they didn't even want to know what would have happened to Teyvat, how angry the Winds and the ground would be at the people for killing the Divine One.

You were still aprehensive as normal, not used to the kindness they were showing you but watching as Razor bring you a very pretty shaped stone with a happy grin and offered it as a token of friendship, you couldn't bring yourself to break his heart as one of the many wolves in his family laid around you protectively.

You asked why he was doing this, when he had no understanding of who you were, when his people were hunting you, but the only answer you got was a confused tilt of his head and a soft spoken,

"You are my lupical and I want you to be happy... They are not my people, they were wrong."

Now Bennett didn't know if he should correct Razor since he was actually talking to their Creator, warn him about not to refer to you so casually, but the big and wide smile on your face as you hugged them thightly to yourself with tears in your eyes which held the stars warmed them both so affectionately and lovingly that they knew you needed this.

You needed to have friends, not worshippers.

And as they, alongside with the Traveller, Klee, Albedo( who was glad he was pulled here by Klee and help you) and Amber who was convinced of who you were by the wounds you had and how you literally breathed life into one of the many burned and ruined forest and was horrified at learning what the Mondstadt did, healed you back and helped you hide, that was when you realized that you did a good job by loving those four and building them up as much as possible.

But those traits weren't the only ones who convinced them. It was how you saw Amber's ambition and praised her for having such a strong dedication to her job to which she bashfully thanked you and cried softly because how kind and generous you were to them even when your life was in danger.

And you didn't forget to tell Lumine to let others deal with commissions and errands, to give herself a rest, with a huge amount of Mora you really didn't know where you got from but was just inside your pouch ( since I chose her and believe the Twins need to hear this) and also about what was going on with her brother and promised to explain more in depth after you were safe to which she held your hand in her warm and calloused ones softly and answered with don't worry about us, Your Grace. Just focus on your life and that's all the gift that you can give to me.

But as much as they loved to have you here and listen to your world and jokes, they also knew you couldn't stay here for much longer. Yes, the forest was big ( and the nature seemed to be hellbent on protecting you) but they knew the Knights wouldn't stop until they got you.

What a surprise that the Crux came to the City, with a frantic Kazuha searching everywhere in the dock for what the Wind whispered to him.

"Our Creator needs help. Help them. Save them."

And that was how you started to wander the streets of Liyue with Kazuha next to you, also hellbent on protecting you especially after seeing the state you were in. The City was literally glowing, and no it wasn't because of the lanterns but you, The Divine Creator who stepped in the City which was raised and built in your name.

He knew there was a famous pharmacy named Bubu Pharmacy and the owner of it was able to heal pretty much every kind of this disease, so he took you there in hopes that the fever you had been suffering from could be solved there.

And it was.

Baizhu, as the usual self-sacrificing man he was, did everything in his power to help you. You knew how his hands were already full with both his own disease and Qiqi who quickly grew on you since she has been playing with you and telling you all about what she learnt about the herbs and the City( she couldn't explain why but she just felt so close to you, as if you were like a parent to her which her caretaker also shared kind of the same love for you) and you were grateful for what they had done to you, how kind they were.

They had shown you the kindness you expected to have when you first arrived, and it wasn't given by other.

Not the most known ones, but the kindest of them all did.

So, as a token, you touched the hand of Baizhu softly one day while he worked to pack you herbs and medicine you might need, stopping him and asking him why he was doing this when he casually( though his heart was beating hard at having you touch hım so softly) replied with a I'm a doctor and you needed help.

You looked at him for some time, then a smile so bright that it made the doctor take a while to stare at you softly overtook your face and you replied You're so strong for carrying such a burden like your disease but still help people, Baizhu.

That was when his suspicions about who you were was proven, since he never told about his disease to anyone (after realizing the golden wounds and how he seemed healthier in your presence) and he immediately went to kneel but was stopped by your gentle hands on his face, rubbing soft circles under his tired yet wide open in shock eyes, his heart almost giving out when your lips touched his forehead softly and blessed hım with your warmth.

Never bow to me, thank you for all you had done for me... Now, let me pay back.

After healing him back and yet once again running away from Liyue so that you weren't hunted down, making the Crux the enemy to Liyue since they were helping you (not that they cared, they loved being pampered by the True God with love, luck and food), a certain sea monster and the eartqueaks of Liyue almost destroyed the whole City for their disrespect so much so that Zhongli had to come back as Rex Lapis and he wasn't even able to stop it until the Wind carried your soft words to Liyue and Osial and made them stop.

Don't punish and destroy them, they don't deserve it...

-- A similar situation happened back in Mondstadt when Dvalin caused chaos after learning what they had done to Divine Creator, roasting the shit out of Venti for his mistake but also was stopped by your gentle caress even from Miles away, to stop hım from harming them. He gave them their lesson anyways, he only needed to find you to protect you as he left the people of Mondstadt in Terror and fear for what they had done.

The "they" in question was obviously the Crux, Baizhu, Qiqi, Xiangling and Shenhe who showed their love and care for you, who was logical enough to listen to you and see the truth for themselves. Xiangling who made you many delicious food you never ate before, Shenhe who was comforted by you about how she wasn't a cursed child and was loved dearly by everyone and most importantly you as she cried into your chest, who believed in her purpose to fit in with humans even with her tendencies, which you found to be a beautiful part of her...( not me reflecting my Shenhe love here ehe ｡⁠◕⁠‿⁠◕⁠｡)

Asking "why are you doing this?" had become some kind of a test, like those in fairytales in your world, to see who was kind and sincere and who wasn't.

And you used it in many nations: Inazuma, Sumeru, Fontaine...

Inazuma was, of course, the WORST so far since Ei was obsessed with Eternity and the Creator, not even listening at all. But even if she didn't, the Kamisato siblings, Kokomi, Gorou, and Thoma believed in you from the very beginning, with many others soon following after them.

Ayaka and Kokomi were the first ones, with Ayaka seeing the sadness in your eyes at how restricted you were, how no one seemed to believe in you and how Inazuma seemed calmer and more happy as soon as you arrived( and how you reassured her to be herself and not live according to what people would say which made her love you and convince her brother to listen, who was glad she did if not... Well, he didn't want to imagine it.) and Kokomi hearing the whispers of the ocean who was the happiest, who cheered for you and didn't stop chanting your name, which lead her to see it for herself and welcome you to Watatsumi Island as the God she worshipped. Who was also praised by you for her smartness and how she worked hard for the Island even if her career plan wasn't this, but was warned to not to overwork which she blushed at and assured Creator!Reader.

Not surprisingly enough, Sumeru was the kindest to you since Nahida knew who you were even before coming to her nation and greeted you herself excitedly, showing you around as her people( Yes, even Tighnari and Al-Haitham who was known to be stern) smiled and offered you a new home.

Fontaine was probably the happiest you had been, after Sumeru, to stay. Furina, as much as she didn't believe in herself, saw right through you and knew who you were, providing you with utmost care and protection ever alonsgide Neuvillette who always hang around you, protected you and even became your friend! Maybe it was the dragon instincts in him, once the closest to you like Zhongli but also one who wasn't blinded like him, as he stayed with you when your fears and nightmares became too much to bear.

Who knew, maybe something more would happen?

And after all the nations realized their mistake, after you defeated Celestia and came to a peace with It, and restored Khaenri'ah who always believed in you from the beginning even years ago, they feared the punishment waiting for them. They didn't want to accept their mistake, blame Celestia for all of it... But they also knew they were blinded by hard and unlogical belief and almost did the most unforgivable sin ever.

They were ready for any punishment from you, even if it included never seeing you again...

But the only answer to their question was a letter written by you, which made them shiver.

The only reason none of the nations who wronged me are not punished severely was because of the names listed below. Shall any harm come to them, your nation would see the true wrath of the Creator.

Thank you to Razor, Bennet, Amber, Klee, Albedo and dear Traveller from Mondstadt.

Thank you to Baizhu, Qiqi, Xiangling, Shenhe, the Crux, Beidou and Kazuha from Liyue

Thank you to Kamisato Ayato and Kamisato Ayaka, Thoma, Gorou, Kokomi from Inazuma.

Thank you to Sumeru, Khaenri'ah, Fontaine and Natlan people for their never ending kindness and belief.

Eternal gratitude and blessings from the Creator, who you helped to gain confidence and power...

[hannie-dul-set]

AN UNLIKELY FANMEETING.

p — LEE JENO x female! reader. g — gang leader! jeno, actress! reader, humor, tension tension tension, jeno gets kidnapped by his celebrity crush, this is stupid, this is dumb, don't take this seriously. w — swearing, kidnapping, morally dubious characters HAHHAHA. 935 words.

note — happy birthday jeno. to the anon that sent the trope list curated for me, this is your fault. take responsibility. the prompt "accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss" suddenly terrorized my brain while i was studying. enjoy.

when lee jeno opens his eyes, a dull ringing in his ears, he sees nothing but the faint impression of a lightbulb burning through the sack covering his head. it’s dark. there’s an echo when he grunts and tries to move, but upon feeling the rope pressed against his wrists, the stiffness of his shoulders and the metal scratching of the chair against the rough ground— he’s quick to understand the situation he’s in.

the last thing he remembers, he was about to board a plane to japan. to spend a few months lying low after the particularly risky job his gang had to undertake not too long ago.

seems like someone managed to sniff him out before he could flee.

splash!

“wake up, you slimy son of a bitch.”

cold water hits, seeping into the fabric covering his face and crawling down to his collarbones. now, considering his line of work, jeno isn’t too fazed by this situation. he has a lot of enemies. maybe this one’s from a rival gang. could be a relative seeking revenge for a brother’s cracked skull, or some shit. doesn’t matter. he’s not gonna stay sitting for long anyway.

“did you really think you could cheat on me and run away scot free?”  

cheat? the sack gets thrown off from his head, a hand yanking a handful of his hair to pull his head back and he lets out a grunt. the chair is tipped back. jesus fucking christ, that felt personal. but when the sudden illumination stops blinding him, and he can finally see who the hell had the guts to jump and kidnap him, he’s a little taken aback.

jeno has a lot of enemies. the list goes on and on.

“use your fucking mouth, bast—”

but he’s pretty sure that the darling angel of south korea’s film industry isn’t on that list.

jeno watches as the vivid scorn and disgust in your eyes slowly meld into confusion, then realization, then a slow but sure descent into panic alongside the loosening of your grip.

“oh.”

must be the skills of an award winning actress. he feels almost a hint of disappointment when you stop pulling on the roots of his damp hair.

“oh, shit. one moment.”

clang! the chair he’s tied to settles once more into the ground with a clatter, and jeno watches as you quickly secure a distance between you and him, pulling your phone out of your sweats while biting the tips of your thumbnail. it’s a little funny seeing the nation’s sweetheart pacing back and forth all jittery in what looks like a basement— maybe your basement. as far as jeno can remember, you’re always casted for romance films. those feel-good, slice of lives and the pocari sweat commercial you once did echoes in the back of his head. but maybe you have a hidden knack for some thriller.

he starts fiddling with the ropes tied around his wrists right at the moment you screech into your phone. dispatch would have a field day if they see this.

“you got the wrong guy! my ex isn’t this hot!”

his fingers slip. his skin scratches the rough threads of the rope.

“i paid you useless fucks a shit ton of money to get the job done, but you can’t even get— ugh! nevermind. just go and bring me the actual son of a bitch i asked for this time.”

the knot is almost loose. this is quite the show. it’s better than all the movies he’s seen of you.

“what?! hello?! what do you mean you can’t help me anymore, what about our—”

drop. jeno gets up from the chair. he stretches his joints, neck cracking, watching as you sputter out a trove of profanities at your phone. his clothes are still damp from the water you splashed him earlier. maybe he should have a bit of fun first before leaving. it’s not everyday that you get to meet your celebrity crush.

“hey, dollface,” he calls out. you freeze. you look at him with the drop of a needle, eyes growing a little bit wider when you realize he should be sitting down. damn, they really need to cast you in a grittier film. “you should pay a bit more attention when you have someone hostage.”

a beat of silence. 

“uhm,” your voice croaks. jeno takes a step towards you. you take a step back. “listen, haha, there has been a misunderstanding.”

your steps stutter a little, moving back and back and you swallow nervously, looking at him with almost sheepishly— a sense of feigned bravery in the midst of retreat, teeth tugging on the skin of your lips. “oh, yeah?” he says, and you visibly rattle. you’re prettier like this than when you’re batting your eyes and flirting at the camera. you’re definitely prettier.

“yes, ahaha, there was a minor switch-up, you see i— i didn’t mean to...uh, escort you from the airport, i actually meant to target someone else, and— o–oh, and there’s a wall behind me. oops, haha. do you mind backing away a bit, um—”

“how about i help you with the ex boyfriend problem you have?”

the tables turn. it’s him digging his face up against yours this time, but the mention of your ex strikes a chord. you’re looking at him, gaze unbreaking. he can feel your shallow breaths on his skin.

“who are you exactly?”

“someone who can do the job better that the fuckers you sent me, definitely,” he chuckles. “how about it?”

he won’t ask for much. maybe just an autograph in return.

AN UNLIKELY FANMEETING. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

[charliemwrites]

A reader x Simon commission piece I just recently finished for my sweet bean N.W. I had a lot of fun writing a little scenario I never would have thought up on my own!

(Reader is described with FAB anatomy, but no gendered pronouns are used. No sensitive content warnings, just spice.)

It’s a perfect day.

The sun is a bright golden marble in a perfect jewel sky, toasting the sand into a powdery bed. There are only wisps of flossy cloud to interrupt the light, a feathery salt-soaked breeze to soften the edge of heat. The water is nothing but lazy ripples, foamy waves crawling up the coastline before slithering back.

And your coworker is soaking wet.

When you first signed on as a lifeguard, you didn’t expect more than some extra pocket money. A little financial cushion while you finished working through your master’s program. A chance to get some sunshine instead of holing up in your room. Maybe the occasional bit of eye candy while you fished children out of the shallows and fussed at families for littering around the barbecue grills.

You didn’t expect Simon “Walking Wet Dream” Riley. (Okay, that’s not his actual nickname – apparently it’s “Ghost.” Because of course it is.) You didn’t expect his big, fuck-off muscles, or his perfect sun-bleached hair, or the dark ink of his tattoos, or…

Well.

You got more than just eye candy when Mister Price hired you. Simon is a whole damn feast. Especially when he’s fresh from a cool-down swim, red trunks weighed down by water and tides, revealing the tantalizing curves of his hips. Droplets skittering over the bulges and divots of his body, sparkling in the sun…

“Excuse me?”

You try not to jolt, head jerking to the guy that hopefully hasn’t been standing there too long. He looks about your age, maybe a bit older. Wavy, chin-length brown hair and eyes nearly as blue as the water. Pretty, in a young Instagram prince kind of way. Maybe your type in another time – the time Before Simon.

“Hi,” you say quickly, “did you need something?”

“Do you have any plasters?” he asks. “My little brother scraped his knee.”

You glance at the kid shuffling just behind him, his knees dirtied and one red with a bit of blood. Nothing serious, you determine, but could use some first aid.

“Oh, poor thing!” you say. “C’mon, we have some bandages in the shack.”

You wave to get Simon’s attention, make the quick hand-sign indicating you’ll be gone for a moment. He notices you, the two boys, then nods and makes his way back to his usual lookout spot.

The shack is a quiet, cool oasis away from the heat. You’ve dozed off next to the mist fan more times than you care to admit, only to be woken by Simon pressing a cold water bottle to your cheek. It used to annoy you, but now you appreciate the reminder to hydrate.

There’s a robust first aid kit in one of the cabinets, though you groan a bit when you see how high Simon’s stashed it this time. Damned tall man; you could swear he does it on purpose. You try to reach it on your toes, but when that doesn’t work, you jump a bit. Still no luck. You’re going to have to get the stepstool at this rate.

“Here, I’ve got it.”

You jump a bit as Insta-Prince comes up behind you, sliding in close before you can scoot out of the way. He stretches his arm over your head, tugging the kit down from the shelf. When you glance up – concerned about something falling on you – you find him smirking down at you.

“Thanks,” you say trying not to snatch it out of his hands.

“Seems like an… inconvenient place to put that,” he muses.

You sit the younger brother on a plastic chair near the door and kneel, kit open on the floor. “We usually keep it lower… I think Simon forgets I’m shorter than him.”

The kid winces a bit at the sting of wound wash but puts on a brave face when you smile at him.

“Seems pretty rude. Is he hard to work with?” Insta-Prince asks.

You hesitate, trying to think of how to respond. Simon was intimidating, at first. Dark eyes and stoic expression, he was difficult to read. Always within a stone’s throw, you used to feel like he was hovering. Like he didn’t think you could do your job right.

Over the months, though, that insecurity has bridged into a tentative friendship. Even if he’s not talkative himself, he lets you chat to your heart’s content. Keeps you hydrated, reminds you to eat snacks and apply sunscreen. Even handles the rowdier beachgoers when they break rules, his bigger stature and sharp glare enough to cow even the most entitled people.

“No, he’s—”

“What’s the hold up?”

You glance up at Simon’s broad form angled in the shack’s doorway. His eyes aren’t on you or the kid, though. They’re on Insta-Prince – standing a little close to you, now that you’re not focused on the younger brother.

“Just finishing up,” you answer, smoothing a waterproof bandage over the scrape. “You did great, buddy, high five!”

That earns you a little smile and the requested high-five as the kid hops out of the chair. When you stand, Simon’s eyes flick to you. Darker than deep water, something swimming within that you can discern from the surface. It makes you fidgety, like you’ve been caught out doing something you shouldn’t.

“Remember to log it,” he rumbles.

“On it!” You lean over the wooden counter to pluck the clipboard from the wall on the other side, relieved that someone put the pen back for once.

“So, you have to write down all the injuries people get?” Insta-Prince asks, trying for casual conversation. The air feels oddly stifling, and gets worse when he settles closer, peeking around to see the sheet.

“Just if we use medical supplies,” you answer, scribbling quickly.

“Lifeguards only in the shack, kid,” Simon interrupts. “Get moving.”

You try not to snort in amusement. While Simon might tolerate you, he’s got a general disdain for most beachgoers – ironic considering how adamant he is about safety. But he seems to find the average person a nuisance to be constantly monitored and herded away from trouble. Like a shepherd with a flock of particularly stupid sheep.

“My brother was hurt, man, give me a break,” Insta-Prince protests, annoyed.

“And now he’s not,” Simon replies. “You should catch up with him. Kids need to be watched, isn’t that right, sunshine?”

You hum absently in agreement, signing off on the injury log with your initials. There’s a beat of silence that itches at the back of your mind. When you look up, Simon’s arching an eyebrow at the guy, thick arms crossed across his barrel chest.

Sir, firearms are not allowed on the beach, you think, before wrenching your eyes from Simon’s biceps.

“Did you need anything else?” you ask Insta-Prince.

“Just what time you get off work,” he replies, giving you big, soft, hopeful eyes.

You blink, a bit shocked. Flirting happens rarely for you, except maybe platonically with Soap or Gaz. To be fair, you’re not exactly the female lifeguard idol that most people would fantasize about. Half the time you jog around in shorts and a rash-guard, more comfortable in unisex swimwear and keeping the worst of the sun off yourself. Helpful to avoid wardrobe malfunctions if a panicking swimmer grabs at you.

Besides, you’re not really looking to get hit on. Hard to keep an eye out for emergencies if someone’s chatting your ear off for a shag by the restrooms. (You didn’t think people really did that until Farah groaned about it at the bonfire when you first hired.) Still, now that it’s happening… you don’t hate it. This guy is objectively attractive, apparently cares about his younger sibling enough to get him first-aid, and is weathering Simon’s increasingly annoyed scowl.

You figure there’s no harm. Not like someone else is showing a similar interest.

“At sunset,” you answer. “So, uh…”

“6:30,” Simon offers.

You shoot him a grateful look as the kid begins scooting for the door, skirting around Simon’s wider, thicker frame. Christ, the difference is stark. You tug at the front of your rash-guard to relieve some of the sudden heat.

“Maybe I’ll see you then,” he says before disappearing around the corner.

You stare after him for a second. He didn’t even ask for your name. “Huh.”

“The hell was that, sunshine?” Simon grouses.

You turn to him and shrug. “No idea.”

“Really now?” he scoffs.

You shake your head, already agitated by the whole thing for no reason you can pinpoint. Lean over the counter again to hang up the clipboard. “Really.”

“This isn’t a place for your silly summer fantasies and little meet-cutes,” he growls. “This is a real job, with real lives on the line.”

You twist around, brows furrowed as your mouth drops open in offense. “I know that.”

“Do you? Then why the fuck were you in here flirting?”

“I was helping the kid,” you argue, “you saw him!”

“Real convenient, that. When the older one’s been eye-fucking you all damn day.”

Any snappy retorts drown in the shock of his crass language and the accusation. All day? That guy? And Simon noticed? Never mind all that – Simon would seriously think you’d use a kid’s injury as an excuse to… what? Get cozy with an attractive stranger while on duty?

“I don’t know what you’re on about,” you huff, “but I need to get back out there.”

As you pass, a big, rough hand snaps out and catches your elbow. You come up short, half-turning towards him, face hot. Equal parts angry and ashamed for some reason. Summer romance your ass.

“Get it together,” he orders.

You click your tongue at him. “Same to you.”

You wrench your arm back and storm out onto the sand, snatching your floatie from the shack railing along the way. Don’t know what jellyfish stung his ass, but you hope he figures it out. Don’t think your self-esteem can take another round of… whatever that was.

The rest of the day passes tense and slow. Without Simon to talk to, and the beach relatively peaceful, you’re left to fixate on the incident in the shack. What was that about? You thought for sure you’d grown on Simon a bit. Sure, you’re one of the younger lifeguards, which is why Price assigned you to Simon’s post, but you’ve worked hard. You thought you’d proven yourself.

Checking your watch, you find that it’s nearly 6:30. The sun doesn’t seem that low yet, but the beach got empty while you were idly keeping watch. Might as well pack it in, you figure.

Not even thinking of Insta-Prince when you hop up the little wooden steps to the shack. Simon isn’t back from wherever he’s monitoring yet, and you’d like to be clear before that changes. Just in case he’s still in a bad mood.

You shed your blue swim-shorts and rash-guard on the counter, leaving you in the more standard one-piece. Roll your shoulders a bit uncomfortably, itching to squeeze into your binder after a day with tits-out. You’ve gotten accustomed to the sensation of leaving it off for the job, but you’d still prefer to wear it when safe.

You flop onto the counter, reaching over the side to fish your bag out from its cubby. Of course, that’s the exact moment that you hear Simon’s heavy step on that creaky board by the doorway.

“Bloody hell,” you think you hear him mutter.

“I’m just about to head out,” you assure him.

“Meeting up with that knob?”

Your temper flares. You abandon your bag and land on your feet, spinning around. Come up (very) short when Simon’s right there, not enough room to breathe without your chests brushing. But you don’t allow yourself to be deterred.

“So, what if I am?” you challenge.

His eyes darken, then narrow. “This isn’t a game you want to play, sunshine.”

“Maybe I do,” you insist, planting your hands on your hips.

He exhales slow and heavy, boxes you in against the counter with hands on either side of you. Your stupid, traitorous heart skips a beat, then trips into double time. Normally he wears a rash-guard too, but not today. No, today it’s swathes of tanned, scarred skin. And it’s so, so close to yours.

“You won’t win,” he warns.

Your tongue feels heavy and clumsy, maybe because your thoughts feel the same way. Now, you’re not always the most aware of “signals,” but there aren’t many other ways to interpret someone near-pinning you to a counter with smoldering eyes.

You scramble to review the earlier confrontation through a new lens. The way Simon glared at Insta-Prince, not you – until you seemed open to his interest. Oh. Ohhhh.

You wet your lips; the way his eyes lock onto the movement bolsters your courage.

“What if… I don’t want to win?” you ask.

His eyes dart up to yours, something a little sharper than longing when he whispers, “I’d make you a sore loser.”

An unexpected laugh bursts out of you; his teeth flash in a crooked smile as he scoops you up so easily. He sits you on edge of the counter and steps between your thighs, pelvis bumping against yours. You gasp, head dropping to stare wide-eyed at the frankly monstrous bulge in his trunks.

“W-wow,” you mumble faintly, thighs squeezing around his hips.

“C’mere, sunshine,” he growls, cupping your jaw.

You tilt your face up, sigh softly as his mouth slots over yours. He tastes like blue powerade and sea salt, tongue curling against yours when you grant him enthusiastic access.

Your hands make scattered, eager work of exploring him, unsure where you want to touch first, just that you have to. He’s as solid as you always expected, densely packed muscle under healthy, hydrated layers of fat. Sun-warm beneath your palms, shudders as your skim them dangerously close low on his twitching abdomen.

“Can I take this off?” he asks, tugging gently at the shoulder strap of your swimsuit.

“Yeah,” you mumble, wriggling closer.

He huffs in amusement, peeling the elastic material over your arms and down your chest while you scatter kisses over his jaw and neck. You gasp into his peck when his calloused thumbs brush your hard nipples. Just a small touch, yet electricity is racing up and down your spine.

“This alright?” he checks.

You hum the affirmative, pressing into his touch as he pinches and rolls the sensitive peaks, slow searching. Reclaims your mouth to swallow each and every little mewl and moan that spills off your tongue. You can’t help rocking against him, hot and hard through the thin layers of swimwear.

“Simon,” you whine against his mouth, “c’mon.”

“Impatient,” he teases, nipping your bottom lip.

“You’ve kept me waiting long enough,” you complain, tugging at his trunks.

“I know, sunshine,” he coos, “just wait a bit longer.”

He takes the tiniest step back, fingers hooking in your swimsuit again to roll it the rest of the way off. You lift your hips to help, nearly squirming as strings of slick web between the fabric and your pussy. But Simon seems hypnotized, snapping the strands with his fingers and following them back to your swollen cunt.

“Fuck, all this for me, baby?” he rasps.

You make an embarrassed noise – which quickly graduates into an alarmed squeal when he drops to his knees.

“Simon, wait, I’ve been working all day and—”

“Don’ give a fuck,” he growls, “I’ve been dying to taste you for weeks.”

He yanks your thighs over his big, strong shoulders and dives in. It’s messy and obscenely loud, filling up the tiny shack and all the empty space in your head. Would be embarrassing if you had any room for something so frivolous. Instead, you’re gone on the way he sucks your clit and laps thirstily at your entrance. Utterly obsessed with the deep, throaty groans that leave you throbbing.

It's been a while, true, but you know he’d have you on edge so fast regardless. And he does, rushing up on it like a building, rolling wave. The devastating kind that’ll drown you in unyielding currents.

“Wait, wait,” you squeak, tugging at his coarse hair.

To his credit, he stops instantly, though he sounds absolutely gutted about it. Pulls back licking his lips like a cat with cream, chin practically dripping.

“Alright?” he asks, voice shredded to ribbons.

“I just,” you pant, “I just w-wasn’t ready to – to… I wanna cum on your cock. Please, Si?”

“Fuckin’ hell.” He surges up, pressing you down flat to kiss you stupid(er) and senseless. The taste of you isn’t as offensive as you expected, not coming from his tongue. “You’ll get anything you want if you keep talking like that.”

“Just want you.”

He helps you off the counter, drags you by the wrist to the plastic chair by the doorway. You’re about to protest – no way can that chair support someone his size, never mind both of you. But then he’s spinning you around, crushing you to his chest, and yanking you down into his lap. Any such nonsense as good sense dissolves like a sandcastle.

You can feel the length of him pressing hot and a little wet against your spine. (So, so high up your spine, good god). When he freed himself from his swim-trunks, you’re not sure, nor do you care at this moment. Your priorities narrow down to one absolute necessity: getting him inside you now, now, now.

“Easy now, baby, don’t hurt yourself,” he purrs in your ear. “Let me help.”

He curls big hands around your hips, tight enough that you relish the bruises that may bloom there later. Supports your weight as if it’s nothing to him, propping you over his lap as you line up his cock, dragging the flushed head through your pooling wetness. He curses low and rough, sinking you down until the tip catches on your entrance.

“There we are,” he grits, hands flexing in your soft flesh. “Nice and slow now, sunshine.”

If you had your way, he’d already be balls deep in your aching pussy. But his grip is firm and unrelenting, lowering you inch by thick inch down his shaft. You back and squeeze around him, encouraging him deeper, faster, helpless little noises escaping from your gaping mouth.

“That’s it, halfway there,” he breathes. “Doing so well.”

You choke. Halfway?! You already feel stuffed, walls gripping every contour of his cock like you were made for him.

He twitches inside you, bulbous, leaking head grinding deliciously, and your resolve cracks right down the middle. You dig your nails into his thighs and slam your hips down, crying out as he buries deep inside. Can feel him nudging your cervix, stretching your silky walls, all the way down to where your opening is sealed tight around the base of him.

“Fuck,” he snarls.

“F-feels so good,” you whimper, head falling forward as you clench around him.

Oh, you are definitely going to be so perfectly sore after this. You can’t fucking wait.

“If you’re that impatient to be ruined,” he chuckles breathlessly, “best brace yourself, lovie.”

You barely manage to get your feet planted before he’s fucking up into you, hard and mean. Just what you want, what you need. Your head falls back to cry your pleasure to the shack roof as you bounce. Rocking your hips each time he bottoms out, grinding him against that spongy bundle of nerves inside you. It’s mind-numbing; you’re leaking around him, know it must be dripping onto the floor at this point.

He snakes a hand around to your front. Brushes where the two of you are connected, the strange and dangerous sensation making tears prick at your eyes. Then his fingers skip up to your needy, oversensitive clit. You almost want to stop him, already so overwhelmed with pleasure. But again, anything like coherent thought is ripped away on a tide of ecstasy when he begins rubbing quick, tight circles.

Your rhythm faulters at the new stimulation, but Simon just widens his stance. It changes the angle, drags the head so perfectly against your g-spot. With the hand still on your hip, he starts jerking you down to meet each thrust. It’s slightly slower, but so much sweeter, combined with the rhythm he’s strumming on your clit.

Your orgasm rises like a tsunami, higher and higher, a devastating force building up inside.

“Simon,” you keen, “Simon, I’m gonna – right there…”

“That’s it, sunshine. Get me nice and wet with your cum.”

That voice, saying such filth in your ear, sends you over the edge. You nearly convulse, eyes rolling back in your head as you scream. Back arching, writhing and gripping crescents into his thighs. And you can feel yourself gushing all over him, onto the floor.

“Yes, yes, fuck, just like that.”

You’re near limp as he keeps hammering into you, practically using you like a toy to get himself off. The thought alone makes you squeeze around him again, a powerful aftershock bringing another flood of wetness. Your head lolls back against his shoulder, crying into his ear, begging him to cum inside you, fill you up…

He crashes his mouth into yours as he cums, groaning into your lax mouth, jerking violently into your overstimulated pussy. You swear you can feel him spurting inside you, thick and white-hot. It feels… it feels…

You break the kiss to suck in a deep breath, lightheaded and still squeaky with pleasure. Simon trails soothing kisses over your shoulder, grip easing up to caress over the forming finger marks. You hum softly, voice husky. Flutter your eyes open and blink at the pink sky out the window.

“Is it… is it just now sunset?” you ask.

Simon chuckles against your ear. “Looks like I was about thirty minutes off. Whoops.”