#and as a hand freak as well. love it when the smallest acts of intimacy are the BIGGEST FUCKING DEALS for characters who are touchstarved
Note
okay I read your analysis on Forget Me Not and I'm in tears now thank you. (No but really thank you, it's such a touching piece.) Can you PLEASE for salvation of our fans souls write anything to like,,, give him hope? Forget Me Not x reader but it doesn't have to be actually all-out with hugs and kisses. We may,,,,,,,, just show him a new hobby? Any hobby of your choosing or idk play an instrument together. Just to give him something else to focus on, to channel at least part of his energy from self-destructive activities to something less hurtful. I'd personally like to bandage his (not actually wounded but still) hands as if they were bleeding. Something of the kind. Sorry for mistakes writing is incredibly inconvenient cuz tears aaa.
;R1999 FORGET ME NOT - "hands, fingers, scales"
Forget Me Not x Reader.
2.3k words.
self-harm implied
You've befriended Forget Me Not the same one befriends a rabid, beaten, old dog. And while he's much too busy fighting his inner demons, you're more worried about stopping these "pernicious habits" of his. A casual afternoon trying to make sure he's taking care of himself turns into something deeper.
thank you so much for the ask, nonnie!!
I got a little carried away with this request because thinking about how fucking insufferable and confusing FMN has to be just to indulge in HAND HOLDING and GETTING A FUCKING HOBBY made me so deranged and feral as if hes not fucking TOUCHSTARVED lmfao. this guy's love language is straight up worshipping, mf is not subtle about it
either way, hope you like it! here's the lil preview!
Sometimes, Forget Me Not understands the reason men and women kneel at the pew to worship and pray.
Devotion is something arcanists and humans share, whether honest or not. He's witnessed the rich and the poor, the pure and the depraved, and every binary that rules this world - all of them begging, pleading and praying at the end of their lives, casting away the pride they've held on for so long for the chance of salvation. Once stripped down to their core, there is nothing to do but hope God has enough love in His heart to look their way.
And sometimes, Forget Me Not prays that you’ll find someone else - anyone but him - to fill the role of devotee.
The gentleness in your eyes whenever you look at him is enough to bring him to his knees, and Forget Me Not doesn't know what to do with himself but to worship and pray. Praying that you'll continue to look at him for a little longer, silently begging for your attention until you finally tire of him. Do you think yourself holy enough to replace the vitriol in his veins?
He does.
On good days, he even hopes that you can save him.
You never asked him to become your one and only believer, of course. You're not even aware of the space you take in his mind, nor the conflicting images he keeps conjuring of you at night, he's certain of this. Otherwise, you wouldn't be here, holding his hands and inspecting them for any injuries. This role is one of the many self-imposed tragedies in his life.
Your thumbs knead and massage his palm, as if you could soothe the pain away, and yet you refrain from pressing down hard. He's at your mercy, why hesitate? What do you see that he cannot?
Something is bothering you. It's obvious in the way you touch him, like you're afraid of hurting him, as if you were the one with a body count between the two. Every so often, your movements come to a halt and you both sit in silence, until you return to your ministrations, filling the nothingness with your sighing and humming.
All he needs is to look up, right at your face, to know everything he wants to know - but he's too much of a coward for that. Instead, light grey eyes follow your index finger as it slides under the cuffs of his shirt. You trace over the bone of his wrist and continue upwards.
He can't tear his eyes away.
Normally, Forget Me Not wouldn't mind. There is an addictive thrill to witnessing the shock of anyone who dares get so close and personal, but he feels himself shrink when you brush against his scales and recoil away on instinct. That's when he raises his head and finds your eyes in the dimly lit staff room.
That expression on your face - surely, you were regretting every choice that led you to him. By now, you might've surely realized that there is nothing for you to salvage in this shipwreck he calls a life. All attempts to check on him were surely a façade for whatever ulterior motives you continued to withhold from him. He's stubborn, believing that he can read you like an open book, but now he's just as lost as you are. When he opens his mouth to speak, you beat him to it and he grows a little restless at your words.
"Sorry, sorry! Did I, uh, hurt you? Dumb question, you would've definitely told me if that were the case. Anyway, it looks like you're okay! I don't know why I was so worried, actually."
His silence prompts you to continue, and all Forget Me Not can focus on is the absence of your warmth.
You raise a hand to gesture dismissively at your behaviour, brush it off to ease your embarrassment, that much he understands - though it's painful to watch you fumble like that, to deny what he hides under his clothes. Forget Me Not thinks of filling the space between your fingers with his own, just to drag you back to that quiet, albeit suffocating, moment of peace. Instead of doing that, he retreats and places both hands neatly on his lap.
"Thanks for indulging me and, yeah uh, again - sorry about that? It just caught me off guard. I should've been more careful."
But you were never careful with his space or his rules, plunging in and out of his life and leaving him to figure out where he stood in his game of push and pull. Why were you being careful now?
"It's nothing, I understand," he lies. Everything you do means the world to him and he doesn't even understand why. "It cannot hurt to know what sort of things the person pouring your drinks might be hiding under their sleeves."
The word "hypocrite" lingers at the tip of his tongue, threatening to spill out with as much venom as he can muster, but it stays lodged behind his teeth because he knows he's even worse: Forget Me Not prays that you'll stay with him, while also opening the door right out his life for you. As much as he wants to, he has no right of calling you out.
He's not used to receiving apologies and so he chooses not to think too hard on yours - though he's dreamed countless of times for the perfect situation in which he finally rips out one apology after another from the throats of those who wronged him, this one feels different. Undeserved, even.
His heart, that wretched lump in his chest, finally settles down and he prepares to end this interaction to save you the awkwardness of addressing his "deformities". But then you go and surprise him once more.
"Come on, I already told you..." You sigh and he inhales in tandem, but you're much too busy rolling your eyes to notice. "That whole thing you do, when you start scratching or, like, picking at your hand? You've been doing it more lately. It had me worried you might've been doing, I don't know - something."
Forget Me Not's eyes widen in surprise. The audacity to notice such things about him? And to put them on display without a warning? What else did you find out?
Part of him wants him to embrace his nature and scare you away, but that's the side of him that's been slowly losing this battle of attrition in his heart - you're a bad influence for him, after all. The other part... Well, it's still trying to sort itself out.
He settles for slowly undoing the buttons on his sleeve. It only takes a moment to roll up the fine fabric to his elbow, knowing you're staring right at him, through him maybe. The expression on his face is one of indifference, one he fights to maintain - this is the most vulnerable he's felt in decades.
That unsightly pattern begins exactly where his sleeves usually end, coiling around his forearm not unlike a snake and traveling upwards. The scales are dark, an iridescent black that reminds him of an oil spill in the middle of the ocean, and the ones at the edges fade away into lighter hues until they mix with the pale, sickly tone of his skin. He knows the sort of beauty he holds, one that can only be admired at a distance, turning into a grotesque imitation of a man when up close.
Forget Me Not presents himself to you and, with his free hand, gets ready to pluck one of the scales off.
"Wait, don't do that-!"
Seizing his arm and holding it close to your chest, you deprive him of the catharsis that comes with this level of self-mutilation. He knows you're connecting the dots, feeling the scattered, empty spaces from all the times you saw him pick himself apart and more. Your fingers brush against his bare skin looking for said spaces, counting them in your head, mourning their loss.
Some scales are in the process of regrowing like unwanted parasites, and he wishes he could feel anything at all just to be closer to you.
"God, what is wrong with you?! What was the point of that?"
Something compels him to laugh (perhaps it's your heartbeat reaching out to him loud and clear through your clothes, he feels it faintly) it comes across as sinister and condescending, the only way he knows how to express joy. Like he's making fun of your concern.
"Apologies," Forget Me Not begins to say, readjusting his glasses. The way you try to keep his own arm out of his reach doesn't go unnoticed. It's such a petty, childish gesture that makes his grin widen and your frown deepen. "I was under the impression you found this little oddity distasteful. There's no need to worry - they will return in a few days, they always do."
"Still, don't do that. It's not funny. It must...hurt a lot."
"Ah, but it doesn't. If else, I'd compare it to being pricked by a very small needle."
"You're just going to find something to nitpick and contradict everything I say, aren't you?" It's the least he can do to repay all the headaches you've given him, and for forgiving his transgressions too easily.
An intrusive thought makes itself known from the depths of his mind - would you forgive him just as readily if he were to kill someone in front of you? If he showed you just how destructive his arcane skills could be when given free reign? Where would you draw the line? And how much could he continue to push his luck before he lost you?
Before Forget Me Not realizes it, you've loosened your grip on his arm and returned to that previous moment of suffocating peace - the only difference is that you've gone from being deep in thought to troubled and miserable, one hair away from darting out the room and refusing to speak to him. At this, his pinky finger wraps around yours and neither of you mention it.
"Can't you... I don't know, do something else?"
"I could be doing my job, but alas, you're keeping me prisoner here." He says, like he's not delighted to be given your undivided attention. There are no complaints when you step on his foot with a huff, he deserved that one.
"I'm talking about the scales thing! You could wear gloves. If it happens when you get distracted then, I could hang around to make sure you stop in time." A pause, and then the sound of your voice becomes unsure and so very small. "Maybe if we covered them with bandages...? But that could be annoying. Band aids? No, no - too unprofessional. It would ruin the whole aesthetic you're going for."
You continue to trail off, coming up with many different ideas and solutions to a problem he caused. He doesn't understand why you'd even bother in the first place. For you to reciprocate the attention he gives you, to care about him? That's the hardest pill Forget Me Not has ever swallowed - it's something he twirls around with his tongue, as if deciding whether to poison himself with bliss or spit it out and continue latching on to his doubts and insecurities.
Outside, in front of everyone at The Walden, he's the one leading the crowd and talking for hours on end, commanding their attention and manipulating the flow of every conversation.
Behind closed doors, all he does is listen to every nonsensical thought, unnecessary opinion and strange anecdote you throw at him.
"...No, that won't work either." Absentmindedly, you fix and button his sleeve back into place.
You've grown used to his silence the same way you've adapted and grown used to his flaws.
"I mean, it worked on me - getting a little slap on the wrist whenever I started biting my nails, but..." Without even thinking, you rub circles with your thumb across his knuckles.
You might as well be the stupidest angel in heaven.
"Why don't you just get a hobby? That's good enough, right? It's been so long since I've heard you play piano, the one by the stage." And just like that, you're on your feet attempting to drag him outside for a demonstration. "You could teach me! That way, we get to do something fun and I get to keep an eye on you."
Forget Me Not knows he has nothing to offer to this world, but when his saint looks at him with such hope, he cannot refuse. The path to recovery seems almost doable when you bump your shoulder into his, challenging him to play the hardest song he knows.
The stars in your eyes whenever you recognize all the songs he plays becomes intoxicating, more so than the sweet, sweet revenge he's yearned for since he spiraled into decadence.
Some days, his patrons join with their own singing or humming, and he forgets that he hates each and every one of them for as long as his fingers dance across the keys - a momentary reprieve from the constant stream of negativity. It doesn't take long for his body to remember his training and soon, he's improvising.
A melody for gloomy, rainy days. A whimsical tune here and there for celebrations.
A song for you and himself - the first one he teaches you and the only one he plays in private, when he's all alone with nothing but his thoughts. Solitude has gone from a noose wrapped around his neck to the perfect time to compose and hone this long forgotten passion. For the first time in forever, he doesn't dread the silence of an empty room, the endless wait between his shifts at The Walden - not when he can simply fill them with more and more music.
And so, Forget Me Not plays, hoping that you'll continue to cheer him on. Hoping that this tiny spark you've ignited in him can truly become his salvation.
#reverse 1999#reverse: 1999#r1999#reverse 1999 x reader#reverse 1999 fanfic#reverse 1999 forget me not#forget me not#outing myself as a huge fuckin religion/devotion as a metaphor for relationships freak#and as a hand freak as well. love it when the smallest acts of intimacy are the BIGGEST FUCKING DEALS for characters who are touchstarved#i love writing reader inserts from the pov of the character instead of the reader like#what goes in their head and shit??? THE INNER MONOLOGUES AND DRAMA ?????#FORGET ME NOT'S WHOLE ACT IS A COVER FOR THE FUCKING MESS HE IS WHEN YOU LOOK AT HIMMMMM!!!!!!!#soggiest wettest most pathetic man at manus vindictae#i hope i got his whole fuckin two faced and contradicting mentality across. mf is not having a good time healing but my GOD hes. trying#he hates you but he loves you but god he hates you so much but yeah he'll still worship the ground you walk on#the title is a pun btw. scales. musical scales. his snake scales#IM VERY SMART
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“modern! mizu hcs”
Okay finally becoming a BES writer after I convinced myself Mizu would sooooooo be a bassist. This is a combo of modern Mizu relationship hcs and band+uni hcs :3 warning, I hardly edited this because I'm tired. Also I WILL be taking Mizu requests
pairing: mizu x fem! reader
tags: domestic bliss…?, modern! au, bassist mizu, band! au, other characters mentioned 🗣️
Mizu is oddly good at home decorating? It’s not a hobby or interest of hers, in fact, she thinks her room is quite plain, but the cohesive colors and pretty decent-looking fake plants say otherwise. (She would love to buy real plants, but she frequently gets swept up with time to care for them properly.)
A lot of your apartment is decorated by her, but in the sense that you asked her if an item would work with house and she either liked or disliked it. She wouldn’t have really cared about shopping for home decor if not for you.
Mizu gets so upset when it’s hot out since she can’t go a day without wearing layers. The apartment (or her room at least) is cold 24/7 whether you like it or not
She tries to go grocery shopping with you as often as possible despite her lack of cooking abilities. Her memory is perfect, so you rarely ever need to make a grocery list! Plus, she likes doing simple things with you. Her childhood was chaotic, so the normalcy of shopping with someone she loves puts her at peace.
She survives off of snacks; it’s a terrible habit of hers, and she knows. It gets worse when either you’re not at home to cook, or she’s out somewhere else. Normally, she walks into the kitchen when she smells food or when you call for her, but she’ll completely forget to eat a real meal otherwise.
Though Mizu rarely (if not ever) has guests over, she makes sure your space and things are respected. If you’re out and your room door is open, she’ll close it. Any special glassware that you bought for personal use, like mugs? Nobody is allowed to touch them.
She’s gotten mad at Taigen for messing with your stuff before.
She isn’t much of a clean freak, but she’d prefer to have things kept orderly as often as possible. She enjoys splitting the chores with you, especially seasonal cleaning.
She’s extremely mindful of personal space. Even if she thinks you look adorable napping on the couch, the most she’ll do is kiss your face and fix your blanket. She’d love to join, really, but she’s afraid of waking you or making you uncomfortable. The last thing she wants to do is disrespect you.
She’s extremely touch-starved but doesn’t know how to make physical contact with you at first. She opened up when you first got together and started asking her for hugs, etc. Now, she loves the smallest of purposeful, or accidental touches, whether it’s brushing up against her, or her hand resting at your hip or waist while you’re out together.
Though you have separate rooms, you’ll sleep together on most nights (usually in your room– she finds your bed more comfortable, plus your room smells like you!)
The only time she heavily insists on staying in your rooms is if one of you gets sick, no exceptions. She hardly ever falls ill, but she’d rather not risk it. That doesn’t stop her from taking care of you, even if the only hot meal she can prepare is upgraded instant noodles or an easy, fool proof soup.
She has a horrible habit of making confining rules for herself, even if she’s on track with certain goals. You have to put hard work into easing her up to let her realize she has a lot more freedom than she thinks she has.
She doesn’t mind dates that you go out for, but she loves cute little dates at home. She doesn’t dislike showing you off, she just appreciates the private intimacy between you two. Even if she isn’t a great cook, she’s happy to help you measure or chop things while you talk.
Speaking of, acts of service is a huge love language of hers. If she can’t do something well, she’ll compensate for with something else that she’s better at to make your life easier.
"Band + Uni Hcs"
Mizu has a habit of not making herself visible on stage. It’s not completely intentional, but her usual spot on stage has harsher lights and this carries over to every single venue. The constant squinting was giving her headaches.
Following up with that, she’s so light-sensitive. It takes a good minute or two for her to adjust from a dark room to bright lights. At some point, she considered getting darker-tinted glasses but keeps putting it on the back burner.
She doesn’t dislike showing you off on stage, but she’d rather not be all the talk at school when it comes to your relationship. This doesn’t mean she lets your relationship go unnoticed though– she makes it very clear she’s taken and doesn’t participate in flirty behavior with any of the audience
Taigen however
The only reason she’s the band's bassist is because nobody else knows how to play. Taigen could play in theory, but he didn’t want to, plus, he thought bass was too easy.
He says that and can’t write a bassline like Mizu. He does write insane guitar solos though, and he can definitely make up something on the spot under pressure. That's actually how a couple of his solos were made.
Ringo is so good at budgeting that it’s genuinely impressive, but he’s not thrilled at how much of that budget cuts out good quality food to keep up with his uni payments. Luckily, Akemi made sure to let him know he was free to experiment with cooking at hers anytime! He's the only one with a spare key to her house. (more on that later)
Akemi knows how to play so many instruments, but none of which are typical band instruments. Her house has a pretty extensive collection of instruments, just no drums or electric string instruments aside from an electric harp. Her father didn’t really monitor her hobbies in her own house, so she played around with whatever piqued her interest first. She had been playing piano and koto since she was young, so she’s automatically the keyboardist (and vocalist,) but she pulls out an odd instrument here and there during a show for fun.
Taigen does have a podcast. The equipment was bought by Akemi with the hopes that he’d have a new hobby, but… sigh.
Ringo is an insanely good drummer, but he couldn't care less about having a music career. He agreed to join because all his friends were in a band– plus, they needed a drummer. Turns out, he’s a natural!
Mizu knows how to play drums too, and she’s great at it, but Ringo unintentionally disses her sometimes on her technique. He’s definitely said something like “Oh, wouldn’t it be easier to…?” She doesn't care much since she knows he means well. That does NOT stop her from continuing to catch accidental strays from him
Taigen and Akemi sort of live together? Akemi’s dad is a little sour about him not returning her home on time. That got his house key privileges revoked for three months. He’s welcome to stay by Akemi’s word, but she doesn’t keep a spare key for him, so he’ll have to be let in by her. Occasionally, he'll ask Ringo to let him in if he happens to be over to cook or practice at a different location, but if Akemis dad catches them, they're both getting an earful. That hasn't happened yet, luckily
Akemi has a couple of songs with a crazy keyboard solo that she has never in her life messed up. She worked through blood sweat and tears to perfect every solo she's written and has her muscle memory down.
Taigen is actually a really good guitarist, but he does make a fair amount of mistakes that he gets dogged on for– most mistakes being dropping his pick. He doesn’t really mess up chords, but a lot of their fans are waiting for that day to come (it'll never happen honestly)
Mizu could and does definitely show off on stage sometimes, but she won’t be pushed into doing a solo for the life of her.
Nobody can touch Mizus instruments except for you and Ringo (he’s a great bass and guitar tech somehow– he just has a lot of specific things he can pick up.)
Mizu, Taigen, and Akemi do separate gigs. Mizu does a little bit of everything– a lot of the bands she plays for are usually gothic rock or metal.
Ringo makes sure Mizu’s basslines can be heard with the drums while Taigen has a running joke of playing too loudly over her basslines during practice. Mizu isn't thrilled, to say the least.
Akemi gets extremely frustrated whenever she has mic problems. Honestly, she wouldn't mind a keyboard problem, but a mic problem is too much
Mizu’s bass wasn’t decorated until you came around– She wants something that reminds her of you on her instrument, so she had you make stickers of your lipstick print to slap on the body of her bass.
By no means are they a large band– they definitely are a local uni band that probably would get popular eventually, but nobody really cared enough about their popularity enough outside of their other hobbies
Speaking of, both Taigen and Mizu do Kendo
Akemi is a top-tier lyricist– she puts her interest in poetry to work ^_^
Taigen has an insanely expensive pedalboard along with a collection of pedals (From Akemis money)
Every day, Akemi considers using a keytar, but the music shops nearby don’t carry good quality keytars and she gets so upset when they aren’t comfortable enough to play.
Taigen has a set practicing schedule on his own, but he often gets held up with classwork. He also has a set sleep schedule but sometimes takes time out of rest to catch up with practice.
Eji tries to come to their shows, but he isn’t much of a fan of the noise level when it comes to live music. He doesn’t understand Mizu’s more alternative gigs, but he’s happy she’s able to get around. He used to lecture Mizu for not wearing earplugs to her shows when she first started performing.
Taigen and Akemi have their own shoegaze duet act together outside of the band– they're getting quite popular from that!
Mizu has written a few songs herself for fun after Akemi texted the group chat about a delay on lyrics due to writers block. She actually finished up recording those songs herself after you found her notes, and urged her to actually make and post those as songs.
#do it like dior#do it like dior.#keegansgf#mizu#mizu x you#mizu x y/n#mizu x reader#mizu blue eye samurai#blue eye samurai mizu#blue eye samurai#blue eyed samurai#blue eye samurai x reader#blue eye samurai x you#bassist mizu#bassist! mizu#modern au#band au#modern mizu#blue eye samurai modern au
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Shinsou Hitoshi nsfw alphabet
damn kat back at it again with the thirst i hate myself
Idk how I haven’t done a nsfw alphabet for my KING yet but I’m disappointed in myself for it
this post was mostly finished before the whole ‘this cold makes me feel like im dying’ thing so i just had to add a few and it was ready for publishing (bonus points if you can tell which ones were added in my cold-induced craziness)
Warnings: you know it, you love it, the thirsting of a lonely writer
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Shinsou is a king when it comes to aftercare. Hot baths, massages, cuddles, you name it. You mean the absolute world to him, and he’ll go out of his way to show that, both in and out of the bedroom
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and their partner’s)
Shinsou can be pretty self critical, but if you pushed for an answer he’d probably say his hair, cause he knows how much you like it. For his partner, horny Shinsou would immediately go for your neck (literally too). He loves how a single kiss can turn you into putty in his hands, and he’ll leave marks in places he knows you can’t hide just to prove to the world that you’re his
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Inside you, on you, he doesn’t really mind. Whatever you prefer, he’s happy with. If you want to get messy, he’s more than happy to help, but if not he’ll keep you clean (ish). Although he’s unlikely to admit it, seeing you swallow his cum ignites a fire in Shinsou, and sets up quite a few more rounds so he can give you a reward for being so good
D = Dirty secret (pretty clear, a dirty secret of theirs)
Shinsou’s pretty open with what he wants, but when you first start getting intimate there’ll be a few things he doesn’t really want to say in case he scares you away (he could never, but he still worries). He wants to experiment, but he makes sure he knows your boundaries before he suggests anything too out there. The thing he keeps secret for the longest is the desire to wrap your neck in a beautiful collar emblazoned with his name, simply cause he doesn’t want you to think it’s weird
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
He does his research, but hands on experience is pretty limited before you. It’s a learning curve, both of you learning what makes the other tick, what causes you the highest amount of pleasure, and what to steer clear of
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Loves to see you ride him. It gives you the power to control the tempo, but also gives him a beautiful view to tip him over the edge of ecstasy. More needy Shinsou (aka when he’s in hornball mode) likes doggy style, cause it means he can pull your hair or hold you up against him and kiss your neck
G = Goofy (how serious are they in the moment?)
He’s not going to whip out a joke book in the middle of sex, but he’s also not going to act like an uptight secretary who’s only able to follow the rules (well, not unless you ask 👀)
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Keeps himself trimmed, possibly even shaved. It’s no nonsense and means it’s also more enjoyable for you if you’re giving him head
I = Intimacy (how romantic are they in the moment?)
He’s an intimate guy, but he’s also not above teasing (though there’s another letter for that so I’ll keep on intimate for now). Like I mentioned in B, Shinsou can be pretty self critical, and sometimes he can get scared that you’ll leave him if he doesn’t prove how much he loves you, which to him means intimate sex and reassurance (aka, saying ‘I love you’ every two seconds)
J = Jack off (what are their views on masturbation?)
He does it when needed. He’s not insanely horny, so chances are if he is you’re there to deal with him. But if you’re not, and he’s especially needy, he’ll most likely call you up for a little phone session. The thought of you is incredible, but being able to see and hear you is even better
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
I think we all know the phrase kitty, right? Well inference leads me to believe that Shinsou would be down for trying out pet play. And yes, as I mentioned before, he would 100% have a collar for you with his name on it. I don’t take criticism for that one
L = Location (favorite places to do the dance with no pants)
More traditional. Sex between the two of you means intimacy, so he’d prefer privacy. You have yet to find a surface in your house he hasn’t tried to fuck you on. That being said, your comfort is of the utmost importance to Shinsou, so if he’s going to fuck you over the kitchen counter, he’s going to make sure you feel comfortable while he does it. So yes, that means he’ll take pillows off the sofa’s just to make you comfy
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going, etc)
You. Simple as. There are certain things that especially turn him on, such as you biting your lip or being extra attentive to him in what would seem like a normal scene to anyone else watching. Put your hand on his thigh when out at dinner and pay the price when you get home. Or maybe that was your plan all along
N = No (turn offs, something they wouldn’t do)
Shinsou never wants you to be in pain (well not unless you want to be in pain). He’ll leave hickies all over you, but that’s about as far as he’ll go with marking you. Maybe a spank here and there, but he won’t scar you or leave any marks that won’t be gone in a few days
O = Oral (do they prefer giving or receiving? how skilled are they?)
Shinsou prefers giving, but he’ll never say no to receiving either. He wants you to feel good, but if you decide to turn the tables he’s not going to deny you. Once you’re finished though, he’s repaying the favor tenfold. And just as a note, pull his hair when he goes down on you. He adores it
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Yes and yes. It all depends on the situation, his mood, the usual things. He’ll do whatever provides you with the most pleasure (while also allowing him to tease you)
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies)
He doesn’t love them, but if they’re the only way to get some gratification then he’s willing (only if you are though). He’s careful about location, he doesn’t want someone walking in and ruining the whole thing, even if the risk of being caught makes everything a little more exciting. Chances are he won’t engage in quickies unless he’s been to the place at least once before (he wants to know which wall you’d look best pinned to). He has to feel slightly comfortable in the environment
R = Risk (how risky are they willing to be?)
He’s down for a little risk, but nothing that would be too mortifying for you. If he’s going to screw you somewhere other than your home, he’s going to vet the place over a lot, and find the best place where you have the comfort of being private but the thrill of being caught if someone were to venture too close to your hideout
S = Stamina (how long do they last? how many rounds?)
Freaking hell where does he get it from? Like, he just doesn’t stop. Not that that’s a bad thing, mind you. Most of the rounds consist of him pleasing you, and he’ll only give in and finally fuck you when your throat is hoarse from begging, or when he feels the smallest amount of pity at the tears rolling down your face (did someone say crying kink)
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them on a partner or themselves?)
Vibrating panties. I said he doesn't physically act on desires when in public, but touching a remote isn’t the same thing as touching you, so he makes an exception. He’s not insanely cruel. For him it’s more about teasing that mortification, so if someone senses something’s wrong, he turns off the remote until they give up. But the moment they’re gone, it’s back stronger than ever
U = Unfair (how much do they tease?)
*roblox oof sound effect*
Once Shinsou gains his confidence with you, he’s not going back. His teasing is often coupled with praise, telling you how good you’re being for him while he denies you pure bliss again and again. He’ll edge you to hell and back if you give him the chance, but don’t worry, it’s worth it in the end
V = Volume (how they sound, how loud they are, etc)
Small moans and louder grunts are the main sounds coming from Shinsou when he’s enjoying himself. He swears a lot, and it’s always easy to tell how close he is to the edge by how creative his swears become. As for his partner, he wants to know how well he’s doing. He wants to hear you whine and beg while he edges you, and the pornstar-like moans that fill the air when he finally gives in and gives you what you really want
W = Wild card (a random headcanon)
You think I forgot about his quirk. Ha, I could never. I said in my hcs that it takes a while for Shinsou to integrate quirk use into sex. As much as you assure him you’re in full trust, he’s anxious about the inability to say no when he has you under his control. The longer you’re together the more willing he is, but even when he does use it it’s usually a way to make edging even more dangerous, with you unable to resist his words when he tells you you’re not allowed to cum just yet
Okay maybe we have 2 wild cards this time cause I also wanna mention his capture weapon. Again, it’ll take a while for it to be available in a less-than-pg manner, but he’s more willing to use his capture weapon than his quirk. Main reason being, you can still use a safeword when tied up. But tying up goes both ways, so even if he prefers to be the one giving the pleasure, he’d never deny your wishes
X = X-ray (let’s have a looksee in those pants)
I’m trying not to be biased cause I love him so much but I feel like Shinsou’s kinda packing. A good 8.5-9 inches (no, I won’t take criticism) and on the skinnier side. But the amount of attention he gives you before his pants are even off means taking him is never difficult
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Not the highest, but when you’re around it increases significantly. He’s not going to fuck you every time he sees you (I mean, he thinks about it) but he also isn’t a nun. It’s a good level, cause most days you can walk, and then on the weekends you’re a little bedridden
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
He’s a bit of an insomniac, so screwing the energy out of him is one of the best ways to get Shinsou tired enough to sleep. He likes to hold you, so once he’s satisfied with the aftercare, he’ll crawl in bed for cuddles until the both of you pass out
#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#boku no hero#hitoshi shinsou x reader#hitoshi shinsou#hitoshi shinsou smut#bnha shinsou#Shinsou#shinsou x reader#shinsou smut#mha x reader#mha smut
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UnreQUITed - Part 3
Request: UnreQUITed 3?
A/n: Sorry for the wait! Please say if you want a Part 4 or if you don’t.
Warning: Strong language.
>>>>——————————>
~ Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~
Word had spread, as had Deathstrokes' influence. He was already a feared assassin with his own men if need be but there were very few he actually trusted - you were not one of them but automatically gained a high position despite your unwilling dedication. All of the attention from Gotham's underworld was bound to draw the Bats to you eventually but for now your priority was protecting the ones you cared about.
"So, how does it feel (Y/n)? Being back where you belong little Renegade."
You were leaning against his desk, neck deep in your flooding thoughts when Slade disrupted you, the mocking nickname the very definition of traitor. He meant it as an insult or wind up, you weren't quite sure but you knew you disliked it.
"Don't call me that, and I'm fine. Not that you give a shit anyway." Your words spit like venom, and you hoped it poisoned him like he had you many moons ago.
"You know (Y/n), when you disappeared he got reckless. He seemed angry, lost even. It was amusing, I've never seen your bird so off his game than without his love by his side or at the very least in his life."
"That's bullshit, he didn't love me. You know full well he had a thing for Batgirl." You hissed, glaring daggers at the bemused but skeptical Deathstroke.
"You didn't see how he always watched out for you in a battle? He was the first to defend you and looked at you like the light of his life - and you thought he was into Batgirl - he was but that was after you. Do you really think he'd infiltrate my organisation, alone, to fight only one member in particular. Damn that man tried so hard to win you over but I never thought you'd fall for it."
"C'mon, that's just who he is."
"Alright deny it. Tell me, what's this thing with his 'brother' then?"
"Stay outta my life, we are not friends and I don't look up to you anymore Slade."
Despite storming out of his office with a foul attitude, Deathstroke's words struck a cord in your train of thought. Why would he bring Jason up? You were friends and it had no connection to romantic involvement. The big bad vigilante wound you up something dreadful, it was like he enjoyed pissing you off but in contrast he was there whenever you needed it and when you didn't - like his mind went blank and Jason would nearly always help you after making a mini protest. Almost like you were with... Oh.
Of course, you could be overthinking, Jason would do anything for his friends and you were lucky enough to be classed as one.
————————
It wasn't long until the organisation was infiltrated, you strolled into the main area swinging your sword to rhythm of the blaring alarm siren but fell into a paralytic trance once locking gazed with a witty Nightwing. Internally, you were forever thankful for the armour and mask, it acted as a facade to be someone else - someone who hadn't been in love with him. Slade was the one to pull you back to reality, your head tilted slightly, twin swords drawn at the ready.
"Well? What are you waiting for little Renegade?!" At his unorthodox command, a frustrated groan was sent to Deathstroke before you tackled the interference.
.
Escrimina sticks consistently clashed with your blades and you found yourselves moving the battle to the rooftops in order to rid Slade of distractions.
"Are you Ravager Junior? Because you didn't seem to like that name he called you earlier."
"Sorry pretty bird, that's none of your business." You responded, knocking him off of his feet again.
"It means traitor right? Did you do something to piss him off because if that's the case I'm surprised you're still alive." Nightwing was forever chatty, you were glad that hadn't changed.
"Oh y'know, I did it for a boy." You laughed bitterly, almost as if it was a joke.
.
It was a combination of your voice and the way you moved that prompted his memories of your past rival fights to resurface, how you didn't aim for any lethal blows - if anything you were herding him away with no intention of hurting him which was abnormal for a criminal.
As of that point, you noted a change in the way he fought also, his sole focus was on removing your mask and you didn't notice until it was too late. A well placed kick to his chest sent him skidding away from you but when the soft chill breeze brushed your cheeks and strands of (h/c) flew into your face you knew your secret had been ripped from you.
.
"(Y-y/n)... I knew it, how are you - where were you - shit, I can't believe it’s you. I don't know what to say, I just really freaking missed you!" The moment you dreaded had finally arrived, his voice radiated relief and happiness at the mere sight of you even if you were glaring at him.
Nightwing didn't care, you were back and that's all that mattered to him and it caused your hard expression to falter. However, you remembered who you were and it wasn't his so when he moved to hug you instantly refused - the first time you had ever done so with the tip of your katana resting millimetres from his heart which forced him to stay back.
.
The action received a quizzical expression, a contrast to the broken one that soon followed but what you were about to say was probably so much worse. A split second lie that you’d hoped would make him leave.
Your eyes were darkening, brow raised in skepticism. "Do I know you?"
You could practically hear the crack of his heart, feel the utter wave of loss that pulsated from his body as every vein filled itself with regret. Did you really mean that much to him? You'd thought it would be better this way, that he believed you couldn't remember even though you did. Maybe he’d hate you? Start fighting you again? It’d be a welcome alternative than acknowledging your own longing waging a war in your system.
"Wha-what? No. No this can't be happening - (Y/n) it's me, Nightwing, Dick Grayson, your best friend... anything? Look, I'm not gonna hurt you, I can't, so do whatever you need to." The ravenette ran a hand through his windswept locks, tone holding a mixture of pain and melancholy, and in the end he just shrugged, offering you one of your katanas that'd been disarmed previously and dropped his escrima sticks to the ground in defeat.
.
He had to do this, no doubt he was blaming himself for your apparent betrayal and brainwashing but you couldn't kill him despite how easily he’d allow such a thing. Instead, you ended up pinning him to the windy rooftop with a blade to his throat and he didn't even attempt to fight back. It was both pitiful and honourable.
"What was it you wanted me to remember? You love me, I wish you would've told me (Y/n) - heck I wish I would've told you in the first place..." His words made you feel sick, anger burned deep in your heart and you wanted to rip him to shreds after he’d said it. Where was this attitude 6 months ago? Where was it when you needed to hear it?
"Ohhhh no. You don't get to do this to me, not now Dick!" You viciously muttered, looking away from him with furrowed brows haphazardly removing the blade. Your plan miserably backfired.
"Ah so you do remember! You need to stop this (Y/n), come back to me please." The pure sincerity in his voice had your knees trembling, to the point where the weight of your body and your guilty conscience was too heavy to hold and soon you collapsed.
The cold night winds whipped through your hair as you hid your face from view, thanks to your muscles weakness you were straddling your friend and on the verge of tears.
A surprised gasp escaped your lips, a feeling of comforting and gentle warmth spread through your body, originating from the toned arms encircling your waist. One reached up to gentle tug your wrist to be met with soft vibrant blues and a charming smile.
"Hey (Y/n)."
In that brief moment of happiness you returned the gesture, wrapping your arms around him to narrow as much distance as possible, your fingers entangling themselves in his mess of strands just as he did to you. The closeness allowed access to his familiar scent of cologne, his calming breathes all the more apparent once Nightwing nuzzled into the nape of your neck with a deep chuckle. All of the confusion and anger dispersed, despite everything your friendship remained and you belonged on his side.
"I'm glad you're back..." Your past best friend told you meanwhile carefully wiping the tears from your face.
"How can you say that?! Dick, have you seen who I'm working with - you're supposed to hate me!" Emphasis was forced on your words, it’s what was expected of him.
"I could never hate you, you are and always will be my best friend. Besides, I won you over once and I know you've got your reasons, I trust you (Y/n)." Intimacy seemed to rise, the way his nose gently brushed yours in a soft manner, the way his words flowed so effortlessly with truth and emotion. It was no surprise when you felt his lips lightly press against yours as if asking permission.
The smallest of touches from him could send your heart racing but this had you on edge, had the butterflies in your stomach dancing with the stars and you wanted more. But you knew better than that, friendship came before self indulgence.
"Mm-no - Barbara. You have Barbara, you can't." Your voice was a soft pained whisper, gazing to down to prevent his lips from meeting your own once again. His breath hitched at your accusation, pulling away and fingertips brushing your cheekbones in hopes of regaining your full attention.
"I can, me and Barbara... we're not, I mean we're um..." He took a deep sigh, contemplating how to deliver the information.
"After you left - things between us changed and it was harder to keep a relationship going because I realised that I relied on you, relied on being with you more than I ever wanted to admit. I spent most of my time looking for you, to bring you back so I could talk to you - I mean you can't just disappear with only a note (Y/n). I missed you and Babs noticed, I think she knew deep down it was more than that but chose not to say anything. We drifted apart, then decided it was best we remain friends so we aren't dating anymore." By the time he’d finished his much needed explanation he could barely look you in the eye, most likely due to regret and the following developments only worsened it for him.
"How long have you two...?"
"3 weeks after you left, so it must've been a few months. We laugh about it now actually."
.
It was silent for a moment, a period to process the information you'd been given that provided a fill in for what you'd missed whilst you were absent.
"I never meant to hurt you, I'm so sorry Dick." You got to your feet and offered him your hand as you spoke, no longer avoiding eye contact.
"So am I (Y/n)."
You both released short sheepish but content breathy laughs, as if getting to grips with each other again as you stood opposite. His fingers brushed through your stands again almost tenderly, he was nervous with the way he closed the distance between you two. His shaky breath hit your skin and you suddenly became hyper aware of his every movement, practically anticipating what was to come. You smiled slightly, kissing his bottom lip teasingly but you barely had the time to pull away before he connected them again, all hint of nervousness evaporated with your touch. Dick didn't have to hold back anymore, there was no fear of rejection, no Barbara, he wouldn't lose you - all of this was demonstrated and the passion alone soon had you backed up against the wall with your hands lost in his raven hair. He'd jokingly scold you for ruining it, you knew that but with him smiling against your skin and whispering sweet nothings it seemed worth it. It was the only way you could think of to express how you’d truly felt about seeing one another again, being on the same side once again - a kiss seemed more fitting than words could ever describe. The both you were able to enjoy the others presence after sharing the intimate moment, basking in the closeness of one another’s energies and simply being able to communicate without the shadow of awkwardness lingering.
.
However revitalising as being lost in everything Dick Grayson was, you were blinded by a vibrant flash of ruby skimming your vision.
Aiming.
You didn’t have the time, neither of you did before you heard it.
Bang.
<——————————<<<<
Tagging: @palmtopliion
#dick grayson#nightwing#dick grayson imagine#nightwing imagine#dick grayson x reader#nightwing x reader#dc#dc imagine#batfam#UnreQUITed
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Loki’s ABCs of Sex (Part 1)
A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)
Loki is very attentive after sex. Once he’s made sure you are throughly sated and unhurt, his hands still never leave your body. His fingers trail over your body, over the newly formed bruises and bite marks. His lips brush against your forehead and his arms wrap your body up into a tight hug. Consistently praising you for how amazing you did just a few minutes before, making you smile and blush into his chest.
B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Surprisingly, Loki’s favorite body part isn’t his Silver Tongue or his member. It’s his hands. His hands are soft, yet rough when handling you in heated moments. When Loki watches his long fingers disappear into your wet heat, the smirk on his face grows into a grin. He knows that his fingers reach places you could only dream of, and it shows when his eyes trail up your body to your face.
Your face is Loki’s favorite body part. Obviously, he loves every inch of your body without a question. However, when Loki is touching you and he sees how your little mouth is parted, eyebrows knit together, and the smallest of moans spill out, he looses all sense of control. No matter the position, seeing how good you feel just by the expression on your pleasured face is his absolute favorite part.
C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)
Ohh Loki can get very dirty when it comes to this. When your mouth is on his member, he’ll make sure he watches you swallow every bit of his seed. When you open your mouth to gasp for breath after pleasuring him and some of his seed drips out of your mouth, over your lips and down your chin? And then you use your tongue to lick it off??? Fuck, nothing in the nine realms is more arousing than that sight.
D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Loki is very open about his sexual desires. But this one is more personal to him. He likes to use his magic to set many different scenarios with you, just to keep things interesting. He doesn’t tell you at first because of how many times he has used it to help him cope with different situations in his life, sexual and non sexual. So when you excitedly accept the fact that your magical boyfriend wants to create a very very real fantasy to fuck you in, he’s surprised for a few moments. He asks what you wouldn’t want, what you would want, all the while being fascinated that this little human wants to do something so... for lack of a better word, dramatic. You are the perfect partner for this creative sexual deviant.
E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)
Well, Loki is a VERY old god. By no means is he inexperienced. He knows tricks, games, kinks that no one could ever imagine. Hell, he is the patron god of certain sex acts. However, he hasn’t has the most experience with intimacy. Loki comes by intimacy quite naturally, but his past lovers weren’t deemed “worthy” enough to witness his kindness. That, or they wouldn’t return it. Once he entered a relationship with you, he quickly learned that you looooooove how freaking cute and sweet he can be when you have a romantic night together. That smile on your face when he gives you little peppered kisses all over your face during intimate moments are some of the happiest times for him.
F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)
I suppose this is more two positions. Loki loves to have you on your hands and knees in front of him as his cock sinks into your wetness. He has a perfect view of his second favorite part of your body. Without a doubt, his favorite moments have to be when he needs to feel your body against his. When his hand tangles in your hair and his arm wraps around your stomach. When he pulls you up so your back is against his chest and his lips are against your ear. When he whispers filthy things about how obscene the noises were that came from your body. When he feels your legs try to spread wider to feel more of him inside you. When his teeth roughly bite the tenderness of your neck, making you cry out louder than you already were. When his hand that was resting on your stomach slides up your body to your breasts and grips them like an anchor as he pounds into you.
That’s another favorite of his.
G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)
Loki is very serious when he needs to be. He is the god of mischief, so he has his fun here and there. But don’t forget, just because he’s a God doesn’t mean things can’t go wrong during sex. Bodies make funny noises, causing both of you to smile and laugh into each other’s shoulders. Certain positions can end up being uncomfortable and you both could end up nearly falling off the bed. Loki ends up catching himself and you but not so gracefully, and you both can’t stop giggling about how you squealed in shock.
H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)
Loki has some gorgeous hair. It falls around his face so perfectly, framing his cheekbones. When you get to bask in his beauty, you notice he keeps himself bare nearly everywhere. Yet, when your eyes reach his cute belly button, you notice a very light trail of black hair leading down to the trimmed area around his cock. You like to run your finger down that dark line of hair, knowing it leads you to one of the best parts of Loki’s body.
I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)
Your back is against the bed with Loki above you, his length was deep inside you and you hold your arms around his neck and you moan softly. Loki’s forehead is pressed against yours as he occasionally looks into your eyes and you both share a very intense stare. His hand reaches up to cup your cheek and his lips are placed against yours in a soft yet strong kiss, moans escaping both of your mouths.
“God, y/n, I love you. I love you so much.” Loki says through a single broken and quiet moan.
You pull him down for a kiss again, muttering against his lips as your eyes flutter closed.
“I love you Loki.” You gasp and pull him closer, hands running up into his hair as you feel his thrusts deepen.
J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)
Loki’s obsession with you eats away at him catastrophically while you’re away. His mind always wanders back to you every so often. He can’t help his body reacting to the images that pass through his mind of your legs being spread open before him.
Yes, occasionally Loki pleasures himself with the thought of you. Sometimes, if you’re gone too long, you both touch yourselves via webcam in some of the most erotic Skype calls you’ve ever had. And he does use it to his advantage while he’s teasing you. When Loki touches himself in front of you, your mouth waters, your centre aches and he knows it. He loves it.
K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)
What kink doesn’t Loki have?? That’s actually a tough headcanon for me because I see that man wanting everything. I suppose one of his more frequent kinks would be bondage. Scarves, silks, ropes, leather, you have it and Loki will happily bind your arms behind your back. Both legs bound to each side of the bed, spread as wide as possible for Loki to gaze upon as he wishes.
L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)
Loki could be considered somewhat of an exhibitionist. He loves to surprise you by stealing you away down an abandoned hallway while others are walking by. His hands touching your most sensitive spots as you have to cover your mouth or risk someone hearing something obscene spill from your lips. When you’re alone however, he finds it very arousing to make love to you in a bath. The water surrounding you both, making you feel closer to each other. The way your skin glows with water droplets cascading down your body.
You do end up having sex in bed more than anything, just because it’s convenient.
M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)
Anyone can see this coming from a mile away, but Loki loooves when you call him authoritative names. My king, sir, master, daddy, all of it. When you call out his name, that’s another turn on of his. He gets off knowing the kind of power he has over you. If he can’t control the people of Asgard or the people of Earth, then he’s happy with controlling you in the bedroom. When you want him to, of course. It’s not like you mind, though.
#wow first ever post#be gentle i know its not the best ive literally never written anything besides essays for school#i read a lot of fanfiction tho#loki x reader#loki#loki laufeyson#loki headcanon#thor ragnarok#thor#marvel#ns
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A number of people asked me to do a follow up to this fic and while I had originally planned for this to remain an unrequited love story, I guess my heart had other ideas. I hope you enjoy!
“Are you fucking with me?” Simon replied after a beat. A beat that seemed like an eternity as he processed what the fuck had just happened. In that beat he replayed every interaction he and Raphael ever had. A new light shone on them, blinders at last removed. The guarded emotion in Raphael's stare, the way his touch lingered. The very thought of it had heat coursing through the blood in Simon's veins.
Raphael flinched at Simon's use of the F word. Simon wasn't much for using swear words but he figured the situation called for it. Right now the word was lit up like a neon sign in his mind. Fuck. What the fuck?
When Raphael didn't answer, a nervous laugh erupted from Simon's mouth and his hand rubbed at the back of his head, his fingers tugging on the hair there. “Jeez, Raph, you really had me going just then...” Simon carried on, his eyes darting from Raphael's face to the ground where they became very engrossed in something on the carpet. A joke. Of course it was a joke. For what reason? Simon had no clue but of course it was a joke.
“I didn't- It wasn't-” Raphael began but before finishing he let out a harsh sigh and glanced to the heavens. “Dios...” he muttered. He hadn't really thought about the aftermath of this. He thought he could blurt out his feelings and be done with it. That Simon would be so freaked out he'd be out and away from Raphael as fast as his little – but highly attractive – vampire legs could take him. Raphael should have known better. Simon wasn't exactly the type to be predictable, well, aside from having a crush on his pretty best friend. In that regard he was a giant cliché.
“It wasn't a joke, Simon,” Raphael uttered, finally. It was in a low, gravelly tone that did something to Simon's stomach. Oh, and there was that heat running through his veins again.
A range of emotions passed over Simon's features. The smile that had adorned them when he thought Raphael was joking became an impression of a deer in the headlights and then confusion as his brows drew together. “Why?”
A weary laugh spilled from Raphael at that and he replied, “Why?” It seemed crazy to Raphael that he'd need to explain this to Simon. That just because Clary took so long to notice the perfection that was Simon Lewis, didn't mean it was that way for everyone. It had hit Raphael like a runaway train right from the beginning. He'd be lying if some small, dark part of him didn't rejoice the day Simon turned. Another small part of him wished it was him that had done it. Resented Camille for having that privilege but also hated himself for seeing it as such.
“Why?” Simon repeated, his tone a little sharper now, the whip crack of it surprising Raphael. Then he continued, “Why now?” His voice was louder now and instead of confusion, his face portrayed almost anger. “You had all this time to say this shit but no, you don't say a word until I'm with Clary. Until I've finally got the girl I've been dreaming about for years.” Now it was Simon's turn to spin away, unable to look at Raphael any longer or perhaps have Raphael look at him. His hands clasped at the back of his head, the nails of one digging into the back of the other.
“Simon, I-” Raphael paused, taking a step towards him, needing to close the distance. Needing to make this better. His hands itched to touch Simon, to soothe him. “I didn't plan this. Fuck, I just wanted some space. If you'd just left it at that-”
Simon turned on him, slapping the hand away that Raphael was hesitantly reaching out towards him. “So this is my fault? You basically tell me you're in love with me and that's my fault?”
“I didn't-” Raphael began, only to be cut off again with a shove to the shoulder.
“At least be man enough to own it. You fucking love me. Jesus Christ,” Simon said, ending on a dark laugh of disbelief and bitterness. He wasn't sure why he was so angry. It didn't change anything for him, not really. Sure things would be awkward between him and Raphael for a while but they hadn't exactly had an easy friendship – if that's even what it was. I mean, Raphael did kidnap Simon to begin with. All Simon had to say was thanks but no thanks. He was happy with Clary. Clary is what he wanted. Clary was what he had always wanted.
“Would it have made a difference?” Raphael interrupted Simon's thoughts and for a moment that look of confusion clouded Simon's features again. “If I had told you before, before Clary, would it have made a difference?”
Simon was struck mute by the question. The answer was no. Obviously the answer was no. So why couldn't he say that? Why did the word sit like led on his tongue? He found himself staring into intense dark eyes. They were rich, warm and brimming with emotion. Simon could get lost in those eyes if he let himself. He realised those eyes were closer than he'd realised. When had Raphael moved so close? One step, maybe two, and he they could be touching.
Simon shook that thought from his head and decided not to examine where it came from. “That's not the point,” he finally replied.
“I didn't think so,” Raphael said, glancing to the side and away from Simon.
“Fuck you, Raphael. You don't get to put me on the spot like that and then act hurt when I don't tell you exactly what you want to hear exactly when you want to hear it.” In the back of his mind, Simon wondered where he was getting this courage from. Why did he feel like he could talk to Raphael like this without any repercussions? Why had he always felt that way? Had he known? Somewhere deep down had he known that Raphael felt more for him than either of them had openly acknowledged, that Raphael would never hurt him? Again, Simon wasn't sure he could say no.
Raphael sighed and looked back at Simon, defeat and surrender plain to see on his face. “Simon, I'm not trying to put you on the spot. You're happy, I see that. I know you don't feel the same, I've always known. This isn't about making you feel shit about it, it's about being honest and admitting I can't do this anymore. All I ever wanted was some space.”
“But I need you,” Simon's voice was small as the words spilled from his lips unbidden. His eyes were cast down.
Raphael stepped forward, closing the small distance between them. His hand cupped Simon's cheek in a gesture more tender than they'd ever shared before. Simon's eyes drifted closed for the briefest of moments as Raphael's thumb gently brushed against his skin. Simon heard more than felt the audible click of his throat as he swallowed. When he opened his eyes he found Raphael's gaze on his lips. Unable to help it, he ran his tongue along the cushion of his bottom lip, watching as Raphael's eyes followed the movement. The air around them was charged in a way Simon had never noticed before.
A moment later Raphael shook his head, as if shaking off the fog of whatever was happening between them, and seemingly for him the spell was broken. “Simon, I'm not going anywhere. If you need me, really need me, I'll be there for you. Do you understand?”
It took Simon a little longer to catch up but he finally replied with a weak, “Yes.”
“Okay,” Raphael said, still holding Simon's cheek in his palm. He couldn't quite bring himself to relinquish the intimate touch. He'd waited so long, too long, to feel it. “Okay.” The second time was spoken in a breathy whisper as Simon's eyes darted between Raphael's eyes and his full lips. Simon made the smallest of forward motions, tilting his chin up just a little in silent request. Request for what, neither he nor Raphael were sure.
“Fuck it,” Simon whispered before pressing his lips to Raphael's. He couldn't not. Simon loved Clary. He had always loved Clary but he would never be able to live with himself if he didn't make sure. If he didn't address the questions Raphael had undercovered, the feelings that had arisen.
The kiss was no more than a press of lips at first. For a split second Simon thought he'd made a mistake. But then Raphael's other hand came up to craddle Simon's other cheek, using the hold to tilt Simon's head to deepen the kiss. As Raphael parted his lips, letting his tongue slide along the seam of Simon's, a small gasp escaping from Simon's mouth from the intimacy of the contact. The noise gave Raphael pause and pulled back an inch or two, his eyes taking in Simon's face, looking for confirmation that he was alright. That this was alright.
“No, don't stop-” came in a hushed breath from Simon's lips as he gave a small jerk of his head, a reply to Raphael's silent request for consent. “I need to-”
Simon's breathy plea was silenced by Raphael's lips. This time Simon's arms came up to curl around Raphael's neck, holding him in return. One hand lay flat against Raphael's back, his nails gripping at his clothed skin, while the fingers of the other slid through his hair. The softness of Raphael's hair had never occurred to him before but now all he could think about was running his hands through it. Feeling it against his chest as Raphael's head rested there.
A moment later Simon's back hit the wall as Raphael once more pinned him against it. When had they been moving? How things had escalated since the last time he was pinned to this flat surface. On the fringe of his mind Simon was wondering how much further this might go. How far might he let it go?
When he felt the press of Raphael's firm body against his own, the way they fit together, he knew the answer to that question.
#saphael#simon x raphael#shadowhunters#simon lewis#raphael santiago#saphael fic#bloodoesfics#bloo writes
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