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lunargrapejuice · 11 hours

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thanks so much, hero

sephiroth x reader with no pronouns used | 3.3k + words

warnings: hurt/comfort, jealousy, teasing, mutual pining, reader works for shinra/soldier but i didn't specify what kind of job

it doesn’t mean anything. you know it doesn’t. and even more importantly, you try to remind yourself, it shouldn’t mean anything. at least not to you.

because what reason do you have to be upset over what wasn’t yours.. what would never be yours?

and wasn’t this your stupid, stupid, idea in the first place?

yes, it was you who brought up the idea of a fan meet and greet for the first class soldier as a means to ease the tension of the citizens during this trying time in the war with wutai and yes it was you who helped put the contest together knowing very well this could be the outcome. your foolish heart had just hoped it would end up with an angeal or genesis fan winning but the gods seemed to be enjoying watching your suffering and much to your displeasure, you were giving them a show.

you want to look away, to walk away, maybe just go home for the rest of the day, because you don’t know how much of this your heart can take but your legs and eyes betray you and keep you frozen in place, unable to take your gaze from the hands that touch sephiroth like he’s some kind of coveted item without feelings or emotions or boundaries and the fluttering eyes that are undressing him without any kind of shame.

the tablet in your arms nearly gets crushed against your chest when you hug it tightly seeing the contest winner touch the exposed skin of sephiroths chest and watching her take a step closer to him, breaking out in deep pink blush and smiling shyly up at him, only makes it worse.

is it just you or does she look even more beautiful all flushed too? maybe prettier than when she first walked through the door and became the nail to the coffin of your feelings for sephiroth. whether it was sealing it or attempting to break it, you had yet to decide and right now you don’t want to think about it, can’t think about it, even if the sparkling sharp tip is digging into your chest.

thank the goddess you can’t see his face with his back facing you. you don’t think he’s enjoying being touched by this stranger but it’s not a comfort whatsoever. a part of it is your fault. each of them had agreed to it before the contest was announced but it was your idea and there’s an unswallowable lump in your throat seeing it come to fruition now and it’s for more reasons than being a cause for his discomfort, though that certainly makes the top of the list.

or maybe he was fine with it and it’s only you with the problem here. not wanting someone to touch him in ways you wish only you could and with the gentle care one should use with something precious. not like how this woman is now, on a different level than how the research and development department handles him but it’s on par all the same. had she even asked him if he was okay with this?

is it silly to think that you could protect him in that way anyways? he is the strongest soldier, with power incomparable to any other and if he truly didn’t want her to, he could stop her without using an ounce of his strength but still..

you owe him one big apology once you can get your shit together long enough to slap on an expression that didn’t scream you hated every second of this and pretend it isn’t a punch to the gut and the heart that seems to ripple through every nerve in your body.

stupid legs, just move!

“careful now. you may burn a hole right through her skull if you stare any longer.”

genesis’ voice is what pulls your eyes away and you’re equally annoyed and grateful for that devilish smirk on his lips that says he knows way too much. at least you don’t have to look at sephiroth and this woman any longer and your body finally obeys, allowing you to walk away from this tormenting sight and back towards the first class floor.

“i’m not in the mood,” you say as you walk past genesis, ignoring how unsteady you found your voice.

“are you ever when it comes to your feelings for him?” he teases, following right on your heels.

how long had he been standing there? you wonder. goddess how long had you been standing there?

“remind me to be better about not letting my guard down around you,” there’s no real bite behind your words but right now you could do without his teasing.

“it wouldn’t matter if you did, you’re terrible at hiding your emotions,” he says it so easily, as if everyone knows it to be a fact. “but i think it is not me you need to worry about showing your true feelings too.” he pauses to push the elevator button and you think he’s quite lucky when a second later a handful of 2nd class come out of the elevator right as he adds, “unless of course you’d like him to see you being jealous.”

you take in a deep inhale, hating how right he is, ready to throw your tablet at him but instead you wordlessly step into the elevator, genesis following, and press the button for the first class floor. with a silent wish, you aim to make the rest of this ride a quiet one but it wasn’t like your friend to give in so easily.

“it’s quite cute on you, i must admit.”

you really couldn’t agree. jealousy, this.. protectiveness - possessiveness - that isn’t yours to claim over sephiroth, it felt frustrating.. ugly and heavy. “genesis-”

“you know as well as i do that it doesn’t mean anything to him,” he doesn’t bother clarifying but he doesn’t need to either.

“i don’t know how he feels.”

“clearly.”

you don’t dare read into his words and feel that lump in your throat forming once more. it keeps you quiet and thankfully for the rest of the elevator ride genesis joins you in silence.

it’s too short lived.

one step onto the first class floor and angeals eyes on you, his question restarting the relentless torture you’ve found yourself in today but you think, just slightly, you prefer this over watching the man you’re helplessly in love with be ogled over and touched by another. someone who doesn’t truly know him or cares for him.

“what’s wrong?” angeal asks.

maybe you really were terrible at hiding your emotions. you hadn’t as much as looked his way but you knew genesis wore a smile and it was only you angeal could be talking to.

“someones jealous,” genesis answers for you.

hearing it again cracks your mask, makes it hard to breathe or think or care. you just wanted today to be over and then you were never ever going to suggest something at work again lest you end up in some other kind of fucked up situation where you’re left yearning and breaking under teasing you could handle had you been a little more centered. would it have been easier if you had told sephiroth how you felt? is it worth the risk of losing him when he inevitably doesn’t feel the same?

it’s not something you can think too deeply about right now.

“i. am. not. jealous.” every word is punctuated with a stride towards angeal. it feels like too much you could explode but you worry it would be you bursting into a fit of tears more than anything else and that’s the last thing you want. especially in front of these two. “she could stand to have some more tact,” you mumble under your breath, letting some of your emotions leak out, not able to care to hold it back or if they hear. you take the paperwork from angeals hands and turn towards genesis. “but what they do isn’t my concern.”

“what’s got you so upset then?” genesis asks.

“your slacking off,” you chide and push the paperwork into his chest, not meeting his eyes or angeals when you make your way towards the closed off office, thankful they seem to have gotten the hint you were finished with this conversation and that lazard is out for the rest of the day so you can sulk in peace. “get back to work.”

the office door shuts quietly behind you and you flip the lock as your back slides down the wood until you’re sitting on the floor, determined to not let anyone see the few tears escaping past your lashes that were hell bent on escaping no matter how much you willed them not to. you wipe them away quickly, like someone might catch you any moment but there’s no one to see.

you don’t know how long passes while you try to work away your frustration and guilt. the locked door handle moves at some point but it doesn’t open and you don’t look up or answer. your phone dings but you don’t pull it from your pocket. it’s not until the paperwork you had started is finished that you look up to see how late it is.

hardly anyone else is around by the time you leave the shinra building and you’re making the way up the stairs towards your apartment, deciding to make the walk up the last few flights instead of taking the elevator to try to work out the last of the lingering unease so maybe you could fall into bed and just sleep this all away. it’s not likely you’ll wake up and magically not have feelings for sephiroth, it’s a bit hard to even imagine that ever happening, but at least tomorrow you would -

your thoughts, your everything, stops in their tracks the second you step onto your floor and see a familiar figure leaning casually against your apartment door with his arms folded over his chest. there was no mistaking it’s sephiroth. you’ve never met anyone who matched his height or beauty or who captivated you as much as he does and his dark clothes and silver hair only help to give him away instantly.

the next shaky step you take, his head turns and your eyes meet. your heart skips far too many beats at the smile he offers you but somehow your legs don’t give way and you draw closer to him, your worries and woes from earlier in the day falling off of your shoulders and onto the ground behind you with each step you take towards him.

“wh-what are you doing here?” you question a bit breathlessly, blinking twice to be sure you weren’t imagining him. after each blink, every step you take, he’s still there, waiting for you.

he straightens, standing tall and taking a side step to allow you the space in front of your door. he looks down at you with mako eyes that shimmer in the dim hallway light, wearing an expression you can’t quite decipher but it’s soft, one you can’t tear your gaze from even as your cheeks warm.

he says your name and there’s no mistaking the gentle concern in his voice. “are you alright?”

it makes your chest ache and your mouth spews words that remind you of today’s uncomfortable events before you could stop them from coming out, before you could lie, tell him you’re fine with a smile that probably wouldn’t meet your eyes and would hardly convince his. “i really should be asking you that. honestly sephiroth, i owe you the biggest apology after today.i didn’t think about - i just -”

“own me an apology?” he quirks a brow at you and the confusion on his face is.. cute. boyish. you begin to feel the clouds of unease that had settled in your stomach slowly burst into butterflies. “you haven’t done anything wrong.”

“didn’t i though? if i haven’t come up with the contest idea..” you break your gaze from his, instead focusing on the patch of milky skin you had seen the woman touch earlier. your mouth feels dry, like your body is warning you to not say the words in case your jealousy also shows or he says something like he enjoyed her company and thanks you for introducing him to such a beautiful woman. you swallow it all down, hating how bitter and horrible it tastes, but push through. you know of how little others had cared for sephiroths personal space and you never wanted to be like those people, indirectly or not. this was the least you owed him. “i’m sorry if today was uncomfortable. i hadn’t considered the contest winner being so.. handsy.” goddess you wanted to cry. “fuck - sorry doesn’t even feel like it cuts it. seph, i - i -”

a touch on your arm, warm leather covering powerful fingers caressing just above your elbow, stops you in your tracks. a soft call of your name and the same gentle touch under your chin draws your attention back up towards the man that holds your very heart and doesn’t know it.

“there’s nothing for you to apologize for.” he uses a tone you’ve heard him use with the lower class soldiers, one with an unswaying conviction, leaving no room for doubt or question but with you it’s so unbelievably tender and considerate. “you don’t need to be sorry for other people's actions. i wouldn’t have agreed to the contest if i wasn’t okay with how strange someone may act around me.” he takes a step closer to you and in the same movement your hands reach for him, holding onto his coat that lingers with the same heat as his hands and as if to assure you that it’s okay, his own touch grows a bit bolder. the fingers under your chin glide along your skin beside your mouth and up to your cheek with the weight of a feather, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and lingering there. “the contest was a great idea. you wished to help lift the spirits of others,” he smiles then, “that’s a wonderful thing.”

“b- but, what about you?” you don’t know how you spoke the words, your chest felt so weightless and yet so full. so full of sephiroth, the scent of leather and flora and the warmness of his body.

“i’m more than alright.” he sounds so sure as he closes the last bit of the distance between you, pulling you against him in a sweet embrace that allows you to wrap your arms around his slim waist before he pulls you flush against his massive and muscular body and after a silent moment whispers against the crown of your head, his voice vulnerable and soft, tugging at your heart strings and making you pull him closer still. “thank you for thinking of my comfort. not many have before.”

“i’ll do better next time,” you mumble into his chest, another apology on the tip of your tongue but before the words come out, with his strong arm still wrapped around you, sephiroth squeezes you lightly.

“you’ve already done so much. more than anyone.”

he lets go of you all too quickly, as if it was urgent that he do so and it leaves you in a dizzying spell that you want to melt into and chase after. as you blink and he clears his throat, it starts to clear, you find your bearings and can barely hear his next words over the sound of your thundering heart, asking again if you are okay.

“yeah, i’m okay,” and you mean it despite the earlier whirlwind of your emotions. but he has always had this effect on you, everything felt okay when he was around and when he held you it was like nothing else mattered.

sephiroth lets out an audible sigh of relief, like he had truly been worried you weren’t. “good, i’m glad.”

before you can stop your lips from moving, you ask what’s on the front of your mind out loud, much to your horror. “genesis didn’t say something did he?”

that adorably quizzically look tugs at his features once more. “should he have?”

“no, not at all!” you try to brush it off quickly, even if he had would you really want to hear more about how jealous you came off earlier? what would sephiroth think if he knew..? you can’t think about it right now when he’s standing right in front of you with your face burning and you can’t meet his eyes. “i was just - don’t mind me.”

“as long as you’re okay.”

“i am,” you assure him with a sweet, genuine smile. how could you not be okay with him here with you, checking on you, smiling back at you? the jealousy you felt feels a bit foolish now. genesis was right, it didn’t mean anything but this.. this felt like it meant something, even if it was just to you. “thanks for checking on me.”

“i’ll let you get inside then.”

“okay..” you didn’t want him to go but hold back your wishes for him to stay. “get home safe seph.”

“sleep well.”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

it took nearly all of sephiroths strength to pull away from your embrace and somehow even more strength to refrain from running up the stairs back to your 20th floor apartment after he had made it outside of the building and took the first few steps back towards sector 0 and the soldier barracks.

somehow so much and not enough.. he wanted to be greedy, to hold you forever, call you his, accept your loving nature even if he was far from a man who deserved it. but tonight this would have to be enough, the searing of his skin everywhere you had touched him, the remembrance of how small and delicate you felt in his arms and the near painful longing to do it again alongside the overwhelming feeling of being cared for by you.

he’s no stranger to your kindness and thoughtfulness but it’s so foreign to him all the same.

the touch of others is all too familiar to him, and in worse ways than that of the winner of the contest today. it was something he learned to ignore, tune out, numb, but your touch was like being branded by the stars and cradled by the curve of the moon. every accidental swipe of your hands sending electricity through his entire body and the few times he had been bold enough to hold you left him basking in your warmth and gentleness and utterly aching when it was torn from him.

sephiroth feels it all over and over again on his walk back to the barracks and it snaps more of the strings on the leash of his feelings for you. it is getting so hard to hold back and today when it felt like you had been so far away, avoiding him, upset with him somehow, he could hardly stand it.

his worries are at least quelled for now and after your interaction he’s left with more emotions than he knows what to do with besides let them fill his chest and wrap around his heart. he can feel the heat of his cheeks lingering all the way through the shinra lobby and into the elevator.

should he tell you how he feels? could he handle the consequences of losing the only comfort in his life if you couldn’t return his feelings? could you love a man like him, someone who didn’t think they were even capable or deserving of this kind of love but wants to try for you, to give you everything and more.. for he would give you everything, even himself if you asked.

unusual for this late hour, the elevator stops on one of the soldier floors, stopping his thoughts and when sephiroth looks up, he sees a tired genesis step inside.

“late night?” he asks, a teasing lilt to his tone.

with a roll of his eyes, genesis replies, “it’s all thanks to you, hero.”

the first question sephiroth asks is if this is about you.

genesis only groans, “goddess help you both.”

main masterlist

#final fantasy vii #sephiroth #sephiroth x reader #final fantasy vii x reader #final fantasy x reader #final fantasy 7 #ff7 #ffvii #ff7 x reader #final fantasy 7 x reader

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unrelatedsideblog · 2 months

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Offtopic but I think that if One Piece was more gory (?) Sanji would rip some sucker in half Nikaido(Dorohedoro)-style

The question is: would Zoro like it?

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anantaru · 7 months

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DAY 30 — hate sex

kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3

𖧡 — including — wriothesley, ayato, scaramouche, alhaitham

𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, hate fucking, mild choking, they're assholes, exhibitionism, fingering, lots of teasing & they're meanies

𖧡 — WRIOTHESLEY

"i don't, fuck— even know if i told you this," you whine out through a clenched jaw, your trembling frame luxuriating in the feeling of wriothesley's thick cock rubbing against your spongy spots as the spreading warmth of his body fuses inside of your own.

nevertheless, you continue your taunting— truthfully, there was nothing better other than uttering out words that you knew, would drive him absolutely crazy, "but i really fucking hate you."

amusement swiftly settles on the duke's face when he notices something happening in front of his eyes, in spite of himself, he can see it plain as day.

that your sweet, angel face, combined with those lewd sounds and your pain in the ass, as well as bratty attitude, would ultimately make him lose his mind beyond salivation— right now, his face reminded of someone who was on the brink of leaning into this, the thought of stepping your relationship up and breaking free of this, occasional hook up scene between two people clearly harboring distaste for each other.

yet, instead of melting into those hidden emotions, wriothesley then, leaves one hand to fall against the headboard before jerking his hips back into you, this time much harder and in attempt to conceal the fact that you've evidently turned him on with your attitude, fuck, he'd never get tired of hearing you.

"oh, don't worry sweetheart," wriothesley grins, your body trembling when you hear him, and as always, he senses how you shiver under his large weight, your chest rising and falling when he wraps one hand around your throat, lightly, while the other remained on the headboard to steady himself and to not suddenly suffocate you with his figure.

"the feeling is very mutual," he winks, the only thing that seemed appropriate to you personally in this situation, was to punch him, especially due to that stupid, handsome, dumb smirk on his face. (you didn't punch him)

"oh fuck you," you spat angrily before feeling how he softly draws his fingers into your throat, mesmerized when you swallow the assembled saliva down and make him sense your pulse underneath his palm, ugh, it's so hot— and you're impossibly sensitive, constantly fluttering your hole around his girth, always so cutely reactive and moaning when his cock twitches through your walls.

your mess of a body was shaking, quivering and jerking up when he teases you once more, proudly showcasing his strength on your throat while never stopping the aching drags of his erection that was making your face twist in pleasure.

𖧡 — AYATO

ayato thinks you owe him, in fact, he believes you owe him a lot more than you're currently giving him— aside from that, the most unfortunate fact was that he secretly liked having you close to him, pretending that it's a way of paying him back for whatever reason, more so share your sweet company and yes, of course, it's a bit of a predicament taking into consideration that he literally cannot stand your guts and neither can you force yourself to like his.

it's a bit embarrassing and you're barely being able to grasp on how much you you were capable to hate another person, yet the second you hear his voice, it's a horrible sound, one that you eagerly wanted to choke right out of him.

well, if only ayato wouldn't be so adapt with your body— remembering every part of you, didn't matter to him if it's been a week or a month, he remembers and targets the spots he knew had to be taken care of.

because the yashiro commissioner knows how to fuck you, please you and make you sob out uncontrollably— you have clearly had the opportunity to experience it yourself and even now, while pressed down against his work desk, with both legs tightly shut around his waist, you almost forget about all the deep-rooted hatred that was growing inside of your heart.

every dip and curve, his hand would find when he drags his cock through your walls with each whimper of his name littering across his ear shells, his sensitive tip repeatedly pushing in and out of your soaked walls that the constant pressure of penetration was making your head spin, your shaking frame twitching under him as he curves ever so wonderfully into your warm cunt.

it's too good, too delicious to pass up on when you forget all circumstances and focus on the hate induced thrusts of his pelvis rutting against yours— both minds being drunk of lust and that sensual taste of sex and euphoria lingering across the room, your pussy convulsing as his lips melt against your own, shushing all your worries.

𖧡 — SCARAMOUCHE

"look at that," scaramouche grinned down on you, excited from head to toe, his ego downright overflowing when his tip pushes and presses into your warm, pulsing spots as he stares down on where your bodies connected.

his cock was slipping in an embarrassingly easy pace that it's quite shameful now that you think back on it, well, almost— at least scaramouche knew what places to target in order to make your spine curve and quiver when he leans his weight over your body to split your cunt a little better as he bucks backward, driving the intruding force of his length deeper with one hand steady on your shoulder.

you wrap your hands around his neck and pull him into a warm, passionate kiss before he sloppily groans into your mouth, his tongue lapping across your own when repeated thrusts power through the tight ring of your hole, his pelvis continuously kicking against you and forcing your spine to bend into his chest, "hah, i can barely move," he smirks, "you're too tight— embarrassing," he drawls, your walls fluttering as he leans his sweaty forehead over your own.

"seems like you missed me," scaramouche urges, hovering on top of you with a toothy smile, despite that leaning in for more, his fastened breathing close to your flustered cheeks as he grinds his cock deeper, finer and better— a small, little shade of pink manifesting across his face, everything about it was so sensual, so exposed.

without a doubt, whenever you would cross paths it would always end in the same story playing on repeat, almost like a broken record— and despite the fact that you weren't fond of him, or, scrap that, despite the fact that you hated him, a lot, you did like it, like him, kind of— most definitely when he fucks you like he hates you, because he does, but kisses you like you're in possession of the most delicious and softest lips.

or, digging a little deeper, when he, sometimes, wraps his arm around your waist when he accidentally falls asleep right beside you, hiding his fatigued face against your neck, leaning into your touch as he intertwines one hand with yours to stroke his thumb over your knuckles.

𖧡 — ALHAITHAM

it's a hard punch in your gut when alhaitham first stated that he didn't like you, nope, wasn't a fan of yours at all— and the way he phrased it infuriated you the most, it was so arrogant, detached and almost like he wanted you to know and feel bad.

it's not like you were forcing him to like you or anything, but the fact that he thought it was appropriate to tell you out of the blue while disregarding any negative emotions such confession could cause— to say it made you loathe him, detest his being with every vein in your body, was an understatement, truly.

but now, suddenly it's anomalous, like the first bite out of a warm home-made pastry you have never tried before.

then, a sudden wave of pleasure hits you, strong enough that you whimper when he first places both hands on your figure, when you find yourself pressed against a cold wall, a new sensation that was laced in thrill and excitement lusting up from deep inside, aflame and alive through your flesh like liquid fire in your veins.

your bodies were moving while concealed beneath the darkness with the scribe's hand long since stored under your panties and rubbing slow, precise circles on your clit— and the thought of doing something so sinful in the midst of the night, not to mention outside, was almost enough to turn you on entirely, drench his palm with your slick when the boiling heat inside of you changes its shape, manifesting into something exceptional.

"that— that doesn't change anything!" you argue, scowling as you lean your head against his chest, "you're still a snob."

"huh, what?" alhaitham huffs in between a relatively normal breathing, as if he didn't just fuck two fingers into your hole and was the single reason for your legs turning to jelly, wantonly destroying your stability, "i think you don't know what that word means," he mutters before rolling his eyes at you.

archons, you're so annoying, alhaitham could honestly tell you those exact words over and over again until he'd get a headache— and it fucks him up, you do, you never fail to irritate him but also make him intrigued. ugh, it fucks him up so dearly and you destroy his rational thoughts, he wanted to do nothing more other than distance himself from you if only you wouldn't be so damn addicting, and soft, or reactive when he prods one finger against your hole.

awakening at the touch, your desire for him flares anew as you buck your hips forward, driving his finger deeper, his digit spilling right into you when you greet him with a broken cry, your hips rolling and needful for more— alhaitham's eyes never averting their gaze from you, your hips searching and clinging on his body, a slight tremble reaching your spine when you hold your gaze on him, all now feeling in different way.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley smut #ayato smut #ayato x reader #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham smut #genshin x you #kinktober #genshin impact x you #genshin drabbles

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guinea-pig-enthusiast · 5 months

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A comprehensive guide to my mindset when I play Minecraft:

Dig holes in the ground overnight to hide from the mobs. I cannot fight at all, and this is the only strategy I have.

If I ever get lost (which is very often), I am not able to use the environment to find my way around. My only option is to not dig a hole at night and hope I remember anything about where I respawn.

There is nothing intuitive about crafting recipes to me. I can make crafting tables and glass. Guess what I build my houses out of. Guess.

I saw someone say that enderpearls are "really good in the early game". Absolutely hilarious. My "early game" is three years in the making, and I don't even know what diamonds look like in-game.

Message my friends about the progress I'm making! I got a lot of cheers when I played for like twenty hours over the course of the week to find iron.

(I was actively looking for Iron the whole time.)

What the heck is an enchantment?

There are chests everywhere full of junk that I'm sure will be useful later. As long as I remember it's there. Which I won't.

Punching fish may not be effective but it sure is fun

I can't fight any mobs, but I have never won against a spider. If I see a spider, I either run or perish.

I like to look up inspiration online by seeing what other people build! It's always way out of my skill range, and I never will actually be able to imitate it, but it sure looks nice, doesn't it?

Google "where do I find x?" because I only know the location of dirt, and then I do not understand the coordinates system thing that's happening when I find the answers.

Marvel at the squid(?) creatures. Man, they sure know how to swim.

I never know where I am.

What even is the End? I went to the Nether once I think, but I'm pretty sure y'all are messing with me about the End.

If I see coal, I am filled with the sudden need for torches. It does not matter how many I have, I can always have more.

Marvel at the beauty of the pigs.

Half of my inventory is pickaxes. Just in case I get stuck in another cave.

So. Biomes, amIright?

I think I'm being lied to about redstone there is no way that is real

#minecraft #mineblr #the three years is not consecutive btw. i do not play constantly and still suck #i play constantly for a week and then forget about it until a new season of hermitcraft. rinse repeat #to everyone who is just so bad at minecraft but loves it anyways: i see you. i don't understand how roofs work.

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steddiewithachance · 4 months

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In Your Dreams

Steve has a good dream about Eddie. Eddie fights a blush as he is forced to sit and listen to Steve tell him all about it. Part one is SFW!

Part One • Part Two

***

Eddie startles when he hears someone knock on his window. He flails and clutches his chest. Outside, Steve smiles smugly and does his little wiggly finger wave. Eddie takes a deep breath before pushing the glass open so that he can talk through the dusty screen.

“Jesus Steve, I have trauma. You’re not allowed to scare me.”

“Sorry Eds. I did try your door first but I was ignored. Are you busy?”

“Never too busy for you, darling.” He teases and then nods his head towards the front door. Steve starts walking back around the house.

When Eddie whips open the front door, Steve is jogging up the porch steps with a spring in his step. He’s wearing a sweater that Eddie always compliments him on. It's black, maybe the only black item of clothing that Steve owns. It’s tight and it just looks so mouth-wateringly good on his chest and arms… not that he’s expressed the mouth-watering part to Steve, he usually just says, ‘I like that sweater, man. It suits you.’

“You’re wearing the sweater.” Eddie pokes him in the chest.

“I know, your favorite.” Steve wiggles his eyebrows and pushes past him into the trailer towards Eddie’s room.

Eddie gets a whiff of cologne in his wake. Fuck. There go his chances of functioning normally around Steve this afternoon. He follows Steve down the hall in a daze.

When he enters Eddie’s room, Steve kicks off his shoes and launches himself forward onto the bed with a grunt. He wiggles around to get comfortable.

“Hi.” Steve says after he has settled and Eddie wants to punch a hole in the wall because he’s so goddamn cute. Eddie could write poetry about how it feels to have Steve drop by unannounced just wanting to spend time with him. Steve has done this a handful of times, laid across Eddie’s bed and made easy conversation while Eddie messes with his guitar or works on a project. Ed just feels so childishly giddy and warm every time it happens.

Steve points to the jacket Eddie had been painting on his desk. “What are you working on?”

Eddie turns and reaches for Wayne’s old denim jacket. Wayne’s been so precious about all of Eddie’s artwork since spring break. Eddie thinks his near-death experience really hit Wayne in ways he hadn’t expected it to. Now Wayne is asking to keep all the doodles that Eddie shows him like he’s cherishing everything deeply just in case Eddie suddenly disappears again. Eddie doesn’t mind, he thinks he owes Wayne for everything he put his old man through this year.

Wayne asked Eddie to paint on one of his favorite jackets. He had no specific requests so Eddie’s painting a landscape over the left shoulder. He hands Steve the photo he’s using as a reference.

“It’s a gift for my uncle. The inspiration was the background of that photo of him as a kid, except I’m painting it in color, obviously.” Eddie holds the jacket up so Steve can look between the reference and the jacket. It’s a wide valley with jagged mountains framing the tall grass.

“That’s so fucking sweet Eddie. You’re a sweetheart.” Steve hands the photo back and looks up at him with sparkling eyes. Eddie nearly blushes, he turns around before he can give Steve the satisfaction of seeing that.

“So, any particular reason you stopped by? Did you just want company?” Eddie lays the jacket back down carefully and sticks his paintbrushes in the mug of murky water placed beside them. Steve is quiet for a moment, so Eddie turns to see what sort of expression he’s wearing. He’s looking at Eddie with dark thoughtful eyes, chewing on his lip.

“Wanted to tell you about a dream I had.” He finally says and flips onto his back, cushioning his head with his hands.

“Uh oh, nightmare?” Eddie sits down beside Steve, leveling him with an empathetic frown. They’ve had a lot of conversations about nightmares. Steve admitted that it’s easier to talk to Eddie about them than anyone else. Steve feels a responsibility to appear strong around the rest of the party: unaffected.

“No, not a nightmare this time. This was a good dream.” The corner of Steve’s lip twitches, like it’s a joke Eddie’s not in on. Is he about to tell Eddie about a wet dream he had or something? Eddie is suddenly uncomfortable by how little space there is between them. He jumps up.

He awkwardly moves to lean on the desk and then restlessly slides into his desk chair again, as ungraceful as ever. He cringes at his own unnerving behavior.

“Oh… that- that’s good.” Eddie’s voice cracks.

“You were there,” Steve tells him. His voice has gone all sultry. Eddie’s heart is pounding. Oh, Jesus Christ.

“Oh yeah?” he barely manages to croak out.

“We were right here, on your bed.” Steve carries on. He stretches a leg out and presses his socked foot against the inside of Eddie’s thigh. He uses his foot to swivel Eddie around so they’re facing each other fully. Eddie must be bright red. He rubs his face aggressively.

This is territory that they have never come near to crossing into. Eddie barely even jokingly flirts with Steve anymore. He received one too many knowing glances from various party members.

“Ah yeah. I get the picture Steve, you don’t have to go on.” It’s partly muffled by his clammy palms. How is this real? In what world is Steve Harrington willingly hitting on Eddie Munson? In what universe does Steve have sweet dreams about him?

“Oh yeah? Tell me what you think happened next then.” Steve challenges, Eddie can hear the amusement in his voice.

“I dunno.” Eddie peaks through his hands to see Steve is all splayed out, sweater riding up, hair haloed around him sweetly. Evil, he’s evil.

“Use your creativity, Eds. I know you can do it.”

“Steve, please,” Eddie shrinks into himself in embarrassment.

“You started undressing me. Took your sweet time too.” Steve starts pushing the sweater up his stomach with a seductive slide of his hand. Eddie’s pretty sure this afternoon is going to haunt him for the rest of his life. He swallows loudly like a love-sick cartoon character.

“I’d let you, you know? Right now if you wanted to.” Steve bats his eyelashes at Eddie. Now’s your time to act, you virgin idiot. Do something! Say something, he urges himself. But he’s paralyzed.

When Eddie makes no move to get up from his desk chair, Steve scoots off the bed and stands over Eddie. Walks right up so that he’s got one of Eddie’s legs between his own. He grabs Eddie’s chin and pulls his face up.

Eddie blinks up at him nervously. Sure he’s heard loads about the Steve Harrington charm, but having it directed at him is heady and overwhelming. He’s not confident enough to enjoy it. Steve’s hand twitches and his expression falters slightly.

“Or… sorry, do you not want me? Robin thought- well, nevermind. Did I read you wrong?” Steve is giving him uncertain, puppy dog eyes. He wonders how anyone has ever said no to Steve’s pretty eyes.

Eddie would be an idiot to pass up an opportunity like this. But the fact of the matter is, he’s scared. He’s scared to disappoint and scared because he has no idea what he’s doing. He’s scared because he doesn’t know what Steve expects from him. He doesn’t want to blow his only shot at this.

“No, I do. I want you,” Eddie assures him. He swallows and rests a shaky hand on Steve’s hip. “I worry I won't live up to Dream-Eddie, though. He seems like a charming fellow.”

Steve smiles and hooks a finger in the collar of Eddie’s shirt.

“I guess you have your work laid out for you then. You’re competitive, right?” Steve pulls Eddie to his feet so they're standing, beating hearts pressed together. Eddie wants to curve away, embarrassed by the absurdity of how fast his heart rate must feel.

Steve trails gentle hands up the lengths of Eddie’s arms. Eddie does his damndest to suppress the shiver he gets. Steve slides his fingers into the sleeves of Eddie’s t-shirt and wraps his hands around Eddie’s biceps.

“Flex.” Steve demands, and looks up at Ed through long pretty eyelashes. It takes Eddie a second to realize what he’s asking. He belatedly tightens his arm muscles and Steve squeezes with a satisfied little grin. He hums appreciatively.

Steve slides out of Ed’s sleeves and continues upward to wrap his arms around Eddie's neck, gently sweeping hair out of the way. It brings them impossibly close. They’re sharing air now, it’s expensive Steve Harrington air. It’s a commodity. It tastes like Eddie’s about to get his first kiss.

Eddie suddenly remembers that he has arms and Steve is probably waiting for him to use them. A million different ways Eddie could touch him, flash behind his eyes like a montage of all of his sweetest daydreams.

Eddie isn’t really sure what possesses him, then. He doesn’t think too much about it. He just slides his hands into Steve’s back pockets, and he fucking squeezes. Oh god.

Steve’s mouth drops open; he lets out a soft surprised huff. His cheeks are flushed, and his big brown eyes bounce between Eddie’s.

Steve moves to cradle either side of Eddie’s jaw, pushing a thumb into one of his cheeks. Eddie must look confused by that because Steve whispers, “dimple,” before tilting his head and surging forward to catch Eddie’s lips.

Eddie’s heart jumps when he feels Steve’s pillowy lips seal against his. The kiss is heated, insistent from the get go. Steve sets an ambitious pace, pushing and pulling, and Eddie is doing his best to follow his lead.

Steve’s big hands are framing his face, keeping him in place, and the smell of his summery cologne is giving Eddie butterflies.

Eddie can’t help himself, he reaches up with a shaky hand to gently thread his fingers through the ends of Steve’s hair. He misses twice because Steve is writhing against him as the kiss picks up in intensity. When he finally gets a handful of hair, he sighs. It’s so soft, he wants to run it along his face.

Meanwhile, he tries not to feel embarrassed about the loud smacking sounds of their lips breaking apart and the deep exhales from their noses pressed into each other’s cheeks.

Eddie jolts backwards when Steve’s tongue licks across the inside of Eddie’s bottom lip. Steve pulls away unwillingly, voicing a hum of dissatisfaction. He opens his eyes to behold Eddie’s undoing; Ed can only imagine what he looks like right now. His cheeks are probably splotchy and red, eyes wide, looking a mess.

“What are you acting so shy for?” Steve chuckles and pulls Eddie in by the waist. He presses a few more smiley tight-lipped kisses from corner to corner of Eddie’s mouth, switching the tilt of his head to maneuver around Eddie’s nose.

When he pulls back again, Eddie covers his face by crossing strands of hair in front of it to hide his smile.

“So shy! You’re acting like it’s your first kiss or something!” Steve exclaims playfully.

Eddie feels his face drop and heart sink like someone just cast an anchor and dragged his confidence along with it. Is that why Steve made a move? He was expecting Eddie to be just as experienced and adept?

“Yeah, I mean… it is. It is my first.” He whispers and steps back until his thighs hit his desk. He crosses his arms in front of himself and wonders how unappealing he just became in Steve’s eyes. He could have lied maybe, but the jig was up as soon as Steve kissed him. Eddie has no idea what he’s doing.

Steve’s shoulders drop, his eyebrows furrow. Eddie Munson: ruining moods since ‘65.

“Oh, no shit? You’ve never kissed anyone?” Steve grabs Eddie’s elbow.

“Well, I have now.” He responds with a pout. Steve steps back and runs hands down his face.

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry Eddie, I didn’t know! I feel a dick for coming on so strong now.” Steve’s eyes are wide and apologetic.

“I had no idea, I swear. It’s just, you walk around swaying your little hips and smirking at people like you’re some sort of… sex god. Or something.”

“Sex god?!” A loud laugh is startled out of Eddie. Now it’s Steve’s turn to look embarrassed.

“You’re usually so confident! I dunno! You’re the freak! I thought you were a freak.”

“Nah, man. You’re a freak, Harrington. You come into my home and start insisting we act out your sex dream…” Eddie pulls him in and squeezes his sides so that he knows Eddie’s only teasing.

“Sorry, Eddie. We can do a do-over of your first kiss. I’ll be softer.” Steve leans in and nuzzles into Eddie’s neck. He presses a kiss against the silver chain that rests there.

“C’mere, Handsome” Eddie whispers and pulls Steve into a sweeter kiss. This time it’s delicate, indulgent. He luxuriates in the drag of Steve’s lips every time they pull apart. He winds his arms under Steve’s to rest palms against his broad swimmer shoulders. It’s a dream, kissing Steve Harrington. How lucky he should be to experience it twice. He wonders what Steve’s dream was like.

“Tell me what happened in your dream?” Eddie asks between tender kisses. Steve drags them over to sit on the edge of his bed together. He gives Ed one last lingering press of his lips before responding.

“You were sweet, kind of a tease. I liked it.”

“I was a sex god?” Eddie cracks a wide smile and Steve reaches to smooth over one of Eddie’s dimples.

“Shut uppp. I shouldn’t have said that. You’ll never let it go.”

“I’m just as dismayed as you are, Sunshine. I also wish I was a sex god.” Eddie flops back on the bed and Steve crawls over, following him up. Eddie lowers his chin to watch. Steve lays his weight on top of Eddie and it feels so good.

Eddie runs eager hands all over him. “Are you still interested in me despite my lack of experience, or…?” Eddie asks him. He feels Steve nod eagerly into his neck, and Eddie sighs in relief.

“Well where do you wanna start, Sunshine?”

I could be persuaded into writing a part 2 if the people wanted... Otherwise I hope you enjoyed ◡̈

#steddie #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie fluff #virgin eddie munson #steve harrington is a flirt #steve loves eddies dimples #should I write a part 2 #steddiewithachance

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honeesucker · 5 months

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*°:⋆ₓₒ Neighbor!Simon x fem!reader ; masturbation, descriptive sex fantasy.

*°:⋆ₓₒ .5k

Neighbor!Simon who didn't think much of you when you moved into his building aside from some initial caution as he did the basic background check to ensure you weren't connected with anything unsavory. He didn't need to know everything about you, but he couldn't take the chance you were someone planted to get to him or his team - a risk he wouldn't ever take. So when it came back that you were just a normal woman who moved away when you outgrew your hometown, Simon relaxed a little and started to let more natural thoughts in...

...thoughts like how cute you looked with a red-tipped nose from the icy cold air outside when you forgot your scarf, how he wished he could somehow get an invite over on the days a savory, delectable scent wafts from your apartment at dinnertime; how whether you were wearing leggings or baggier joggers he could make out the plush flesh of your ass that gave him an uncomfortably stiff cock imagining slapping the meat of your cheeks and watching it jiggle, or how when he found you in the building's community gym and you were training on a punching bag the grunts you made went straight to his cock, imaging all the other sweet sounds he could pull from your lips.

The final straw, the bane of his existence, was the paper-thin wall that you both shared that seemed to be connected to each of your bedrooms. Late at night he could hear the soft buzzing and airy mewls of pleasure as you fucked a piece of smooth plastic into your dripping cunt. Simon could just imagine it now as he roughly palmed his cock... you laid up in your bed with your legs splayed open as your teary eyes looked up at him, begging him for his cock as he stood beside your bed fisting the thick, veiny length. The way your nipples would harden in the cool apartment air, twin peaks of desire that he wanted to suck and nibble on, oh and the absolute eye-rolling pleasure he would feel when he finally got to sink his cock into that tight little cunt of yours - crying and squirming, telling him in airy gasps "s'too big Si" as you tried futilely to push him away. He would just drop his full weight on you, propped up only by his elbows as he fucked his cock deeper into you until your walls gave way, slippery and accepting, as his movements began to glide in and out of you; the sounds of you coming undone around his cock as he plowed into your tight hole until he was stuffing you full of his cum.

Simon would be shocked out of this fantasy as a thick load of cum splattered on his abdomen and up to his chest, his cock twitching as rough grunts and a breathless panting filled his room as he tried to bring himself back down from the high of hearing you through your walls...

... he'd have to figure out how to get that dinner invitation after all.

#Honee.COD #Simon Riley #COD Ghost #Ghost COD #COD Simon Riley #Ghost mw2 #mw2 Ghost #ghost call of duty #ghost simon riley #simon riley cod #mw2 smut #ghost smut #simon riley smut #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x you

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sttm99 · 6 months

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PART 2 of Bakugo falling for a 'popular' girl

Bakugo likes to think he's fine with all the boys that are constantly vying for your attention. Mostly because he assumed their desperation would reduce now that you'd been seen more frequently around him.

It didn't. It only got worse, because now getting a date with you didn't seem like some far-fetched dream. It was attainable.

'If Bakugo could do it, why couldn't they?'

The blonde boy almost punched someone for saying that in the hallway.

And now he was becoming paranoid. You guys weren't dating. Sure, you'd gone on, like, three dates. And you let him sit next to you during lunch, and let him walk you to your classes. But there was no sort of exclusivity between you two. You could still go on other dates with other guys. You could still flirt.

He even assumed that was what you were doing now, as he sat in the cafeteria with Kirishima and the others, watching you intently as you conversed with some boy in your class. He was way too close to you, way too smiley, way too flirty.

"Dude, stare any harder and you're gonna burn holes in the back of his head." Kirishima said, pushing at Bakugo's shoulders.

"Yeah dude," Kaminari joined in. "She's not talking to anyone else. Calm down a bit."

He scoffed, rolling his eyes and still watching. You leaned closer to the boy, your hands coming forward to touch the boy's hair. And it was too affectionate, you were smiling too much, your body language too soft.

And before he knew it, Bakugo was harshly pushing his seat back and stalking out of the cafeteria despite his friends' calls.

"Seriously?" You scoffed as you looked down at him sitting on the stairs, your arms folded over your chest. "Kaminari said you stormed out cause I was flirting with someone else."

Bakugo rolled his eyes, his arms tensing as he made a mental note to kill Kaminari later. "He's an idiot. Don't believe shit he says."

You rolled your eyes. "So why did you walk out like that? There were practically sparks flying out your hands."

"What? Keeping tabs on me now? I can't just leave a place when I want to?" It came out harsher than he intended. And he was immediately looking up at you and stuttering, backtracking, trying to rectify it.

"You're being insecure and jealous," you spat out at him before he could take back his words. "Don't take it out on me. We're not gonna do that, you hear me?"

He sighed out, frowning. "Yeah... I'm sorry." He mumbled, his head hung.

"And besides," you took a seat next to him, your thighs even touching. "I'm not interested in him."

"So why were you touching him like that?"

"I touch you like that, don't I?" You chuckled.

Bakugo whipped his head around, eyes locked on you. "Are you trying to say you're not interested in me?"

His shock and frustration made you laugh, leaning forward and holding your sides. "I'm joking. I'm joking, Bakugo."

He hummed, allowing a calm silence fall over you two.

"So..." He mumbled. "You're gonna keep- you're gonna continue flirting with other boys like that? Playing around?"

You shrugged. "I'm not taken, am I?"

"But-" He let out a sharp breath. "I just- I don't want you to... I want us to be-"

"To be exclusive?" You completed, looking at him. "You want us to be together? To date."

He nodded after a while, slowly, tentatively. "Yeah."

You paused, still looking at him. "I think we should get to know each other a bit more, as friends."

His face fell, and you quickly took note of that.

"I don't mean I'm friendzoning you, Bakugo." You chuckled. "I just mean that we should attain a certain level of friendship before dating. I'm obviously not interested in being just friends with you."

He hummed and nodded, his cheeks turning a faint pink. And then he began shifting a bit closer, turning his upper body so he was facing you a bit more.

"What about being exclusive? I don't want others thinking they have a chance." He said firmly.

And you smiled. "Nobody else has a chance with me. Just you."

"So this means you're mine?" He asked, his voice several octaves lower, head leaning into yours and eyes focused on your lips.

"Yeah. 'M all yours," you mumbled right before he kissed you.

#bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katuski x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #mha bakugou #bakugo fluff

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gamergirl929 · 2 months

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Your Biggest Mistake (Became My Future) (Kristie Mewis x Reader)

When your childhood best friend Kristie Mewis showed up at your door in the middle of the night crying because Sam Kerr had cheated on her, you took her in without a second thought. What you didn't realize was that the feelings you'd been holding back for so long were about to surface, and what that meant for your and Kristie's relationship, you didn't know.

Disclaimer: SO, this fic contains smut, and also a g!p reader, so if that isn't your thing, feel free to skip this one. As always, let me know what you think, I'd love to hear from you guys, enjoy!

Knuckles wrapping loudly against your apartment door is what jars you from your sleep, your brows furrowed, and eyes narrowed as you leave the couch, you’d fallen asleep on and make your way to the door.

You glance at the kitchen stove’s clock out of the corner of your eye, your brow furrowing when you realize it’s well passed 3AM.

Who could be knocking on your door at this hour?

Your peer through the peep hole, your eyes widening when you realize the person standing on the other side of the door is none other than Kristie Mewis.

You jerk the door open, coming face to face with a red-rimmed eyed Kristie Mewis, her bottom lip trembling, a suitcase in one hand, a duffle bag hanging from her shoulder.

She drops the bag and suitcase on the floor with a thud before leaping into your arms, the blonde burying her face in your neck as she sobs in your hold.

“She cheated on me.”

Your nostrils flare as you grab her suitcase and duffel bag, the woman still clinging to you as you guide her into your apartment and onto the couch.

You’d been best friends with Kristie since childhood, the two of you attending the same college before you went your separate ways, the blonde joining the NWSL, and you joining the WSL, heading overseas.

You were elated when Kristie had ended her contract with Gotham and was coming overseas to be on your team, West Ham United.

You were less than thrilled that the reason she was coming overseas was for her fiancé, Sam Kerr.

You’d never liked the woman, not only because she stood between you and any potential chance of getting with Kristie, but because she was too cocky for her own good, which to you, was off-putting.

She’d done everything she could to keep the two of you apart, to weasel her way between the two of you and your friendship.

You knew she had to have guessed by now that you had feelings for Kristie, which was why she was attempting to separate the two of you yet again, but that strategy hadn’t worked and once again, you and Kristie became inseparable.

You knew it had caused a significant number of fights between the pair, but you were confident in the fact that Kristie would never cut you off, simply because Sam wanted her too, she was your best friend afterall.

“Shhh, it’s okay, just tell me what happened.” You coo as you run your hands gently down her back, your heart aching in your chest at the sight of the woman’s tears.

She sniffles, burying her face in your neck, her nose brushing your jawline.

“She slept with someone else, she wouldn’t tell me who.”

You snarl, your hold on her tightening, the thought of wringing Sam Kerr’s neck coming to mind.

“She thought I cheated on her, so she did it to ‘get back at me’.” She cries, her hold on you tightening.

You scoff.

“That’s just her excuse.” You growl, the woman pulling back to look into your Y/E/C orbs, orbs that hold a fire in them that she’d only seen once before during college when you punched a man outside a bar for harassing and touching her without her consent.

“Can I...” She swallows hard, her mouth opening and closing before you smile softly, tucking a strand of hair that had fallen in her face behind her ear.

“Ask.” You say, brushing a tear off of her cheek, the woman’s breath hitching as she leans briefly into your touch.

“Can I stay here?” She whispers and you smile, ducking down to kiss her forehead, like you’d done since you were kids.

“You didn’t even have to ask.”

************************************************************************

It was a week later when Kristie took to social media to announce her and Sam’s dissolved engagement and the subsequent end of their relationship, something that upset those in the WOSO community.

Kristie however was more upset than all of them combined, the woman a shell of herself as she shuffled around your apartment.

The day after the announcement, you decided to do something about it, making your way to the guest bedroom and approaching the blonde who’d just been laying in bed, buried beneath a heap of blankets.

“Come on.” You say, prodding the pile of blankets, the woman growling beneath.

“No.”

You sigh, pulling the blankets off of the woman, who whines.

“I can’t see you like this anymore, come on, we’re going out.” You say, earning a frown from the woman curled up in bed.

“I don’t want to Y/N.” She whispers and you sigh, sitting down beside her on the bed.

You reach your hand towards her, placing it face up on the bed beneath you, her blue orbs darting from your hand to your eyes and back.

Barely a second passes before she’s taking your hand, smiling when you give it a squeeze.

She silently plays with your fingers, your heart skipping a beat, something you try to ignore, knowing that the last thing she needed was your pining.

“Do you trust me?” You whisper, your eyes locking with Kristie’s shimmering blues.

“More than anything.” She smiles softly.

You squeeze her hand again, before reluctantly releasing it, missing the woman’s pout as you move to your feet.

“Come on, get dressed.” You say, Kristie huffing, but rolling out of bed before moving towards her suitcase.

A smile stretches across your face as you make you way towards your own bedroom, intent on getting dressed and taking Kristie someplace nearby that would, hopefully, cheer her up.

************************************************************************

You couldn’t help but smile as Kristie licked her ice cream intently, your smile splitting into a grin when she did a little happy wiggle on the bench beside you.

You chuckle, turning your attention to your own ice cream, watching as people walk past.

If you knew one way to cheer up the woman beside you, it was with ice cream, her go to for when she was feeling down in high school, in college, and into adulthood.

“What?” Kristie asks, pulling you from your daze.

You snort, zeroing in on the bit of ice cream hanging from her nose.

The blonde’s breath hitches as you wipe it away with your thumb.

“Some things never change.” You snicker, earning an eye roll.

“At least you didn’t leave it on my face like you did in high school.”

You stick your tongue out at the blonde, who barks out a laugh before turning back to her ice cream.

You’re unable to take your eyes off of her, watching as she enthusiastically licks the sweet treat, the rod between your legs beginning to stir.

“Goddamn it.” You mumble, the blonde turning your way mid-lick.

“Are you okay?” She asks and you nod.

“More than okay.”

She turns away, your eyes zeroing in on the bulge in your pants, something you immediately shift to hide from view.

Thankfully for you, Kristie was made aware of the extra appendage between your legs when you were kids, meaning she’d pretty much accepted you right away.

Deep down, you knew even if she found out about it later in life, she still would’ve accepted you, her heart was too big for her NOT to accept that part of you.

You chuckle to yourself, turning back to your own ice cream, unaware that the woman beside you is watching you closely, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

************************************************************************

It didn’t take much prompting for you to get Kristie to go out after that, the two of you frequenting the ice cream shop weekly, so much so that the workers behind the counter knew your names.

You grimace, digging the doorknob of your apartment’s door into your back as you backed into the apartment, carrying a number of takeout boxes, food you knew Kristie would enjoy.

“There you are!” Kristie says from her place on the couch, the woman deep into a The Bachelor marathon.

You chuckle, kicking the door shut behind you.

Kristie rises from the couch, stretching her arms high above her head as she makes her way towards you, taking one of the bags full of takeout boxes out of your hand.

“You know, we shouldn’t be eating this.” She jests, though she can’t help but grin when she pops the takeout box open, grinning down at its contents.

“I won’t tell if you don’t.” You wink, making your way towards the couch, takeout box in hand.

“Come on, let’s watch this shitty TV show you love so much.” You tease, the woman growling.

“It’s not shitty!” She says, giving you a nudge as she takes a seat beside you.

“Whatever you say.” You snort, earning a groan.

“Don’t act like you haven’t been catching up on episodes when I was asleep.” She gives you a pointed look and you bark out of laugh.

“Yeah, I don’t recall that.” You scoff, Kristie staring intently at your profile, her brow arched and a smirk stretched across her face.

You growl.

“Shut up Mewis and watch the TV show.”

She giggles.

“Only if you admit you like it.” She says, poking your side and you squeak.

You shoot her a glare, earning only a playful smile in return.

You get lost in her blue orbs momentarily before your gaze falls to her lips, your eyes widening as you turn abruptly away.

“I guess it isn't THAT terrible.” You mumble as you take a forkful of food and shovel it into your mouth.

Kristie smirks.

“I knew you liked it.”

You hum.

“I never said that.”

“Shut up Y/L/N and watch the TV show.” She says, starting the show again and you sigh, eyeing her profile before turning away, unaware that she was now gazing your way, her lips splitting into a grin.

***********************************************************************

It’s a short time later that takeout boxes go empty, and you soon find yourself knee deep into whatever season of The Bachelor you were currently on.

To be honest, you weren’t at all sure.

“Seriously, why’d he pick her? I mean come on--

You fall silent, your eyes widening when a weight settles on your lap, your eyes leaving the TV in favor of glancing downwards, realizing Kristie’s head was in your lap.

You smile softly, brushing a strand of hair out of her face before tucking it behind her ear.

Luckily, you saw the glow returning to the woman’s blue orbs, the blonde well on her way to being the same, bubbly and silly woman you knew her to be.

You sigh, tangling your fingers in her soft blonde locks, the woman humming in her sleep as your nails graze her scalp.

Your heart lightens in your chest as you trace her sharp jawline, her brows furrowing in her sleep before she grabs your hand.

Your eyes widen when she traps it against her cheek, her eyes fluttering open.

“Y/N?” She whispers and you smile, caressing her cheek with your thumb.

“It’s me. Go back to sleep.” You mumble and she hums, her eyes fluttering back shut before sleep takes her once more, your hand still in hers.

************************************************************************

Even though months had passed, you could see the sadness on Kristie’s face when she found out that Sam Kerr was in a new relationship, her eyes dulling as she read the news.

She’d again withdrew into herself, you knew she'd loved the Aussie very much, and seeing her with someone else had to be painful.

Still, you did everything you could to cheer her up, taking her out for ice cream and binge watching The Bachelor.

You push your way into the apartment, sighing when you realize she’s fast asleep on the couch, her phone laying on the floor.

You smile sadly as you make your way towards her, tear tracks visible on her flushed cheeks that make your own heart break.

You pick her phone up off the floor and place it on the table before crouching down beside her.

“Kris?” You whisper, brushing a strand of hair out of her face, the woman continuing to snore away.

You smile softly, taking her gently into your arms before carrying her down the hallway towards the guest room she’d been residing in.

You place her softly on the bed before pulling the covers up over her, your eyes tracing the woman’s face.

You had no idea what it felt like to be cheated on by your fiancé, but what you did know is that you’d be there for her every step of the way.

You duck down, pressing a kiss to her forehead, the woman mumbling in her sleep.

“I love you, Kris.” You whisper, leaving the room quietly, the door shutting softly behind you.

************************************************************************

It isn’t until hours later that Kristie wakes, her brows furrowing, when she realizes she’s in bed.

She glances around the room, her head on a swivel as she tries to find her phone, which she unfortunately can’t find.

She slips silently out of bed before making her way down the hallway towards the living room.

The apartment was pitch black, meaning that it was well past midnight, and considering she could hear you snoring softly, she knew you were fast asleep.

She stumbles through the darkness, eventually finding her phone which was resting on the coffee table, its screen lighting up when she picks it up.

She frowns, notification after notification littering her screen, most tagging her in Sam Kerr’s post.

Kristie shakes her head, realizing that it was well past 2AM, which meant she’d slept the day away.

She creeps silently back to her room, stopping midway down the hall in front of your door, the door cracked open slightly.

She slides a hand into the crack, pushing the door open a bit on zeroing in on your sleeping form, her heart lightening in her chest.

She’s unsure of what it is that leads her to make her way into your room, the woman clearing her throat.

“Y/N?” She whispers, her voice soft and raspy, despite that however, your eyes flash open.

“Kris?” You croak, digging your fists into your eyes in an attempt to clear your vision.

“Are you alright?” You ask, swinging your legs out of bed, your movements stopped when Kristie place a hand on your shoulder.

“I’m okay... I was just wondering if...” She pauses, shuffling from foot to foot, the sight endearing.

“If...?” You start, staring at the woman expectantly.

The blonde’s throat bobs.

“Can I sleep in here?” She asks, your eyes widening.

“Umm, sure, of course you can, I-I mean...” You stutter, shivering when the blankets are pulled back, the warmth beneath the blanket escaping for a mere moment before Kristie slides beneath the covers beside you.

Your cheeks flush as she shuffles around, the two of you now face to face, her head resting on the pillow beside your own.

“You’re sure this is, okay?” She whispers and you nod, unable to stop your eyelids from fluttering.

“Of course it is.” You whisper, your words slurring.

Kristie simply watches as you fall asleep, unable to stop herself from shuffling closer to you and burying her face in your neck.

She’d been upset after finding out that Sam had moved on, but now, as your arms wrapped around her, that sadness ebbed away.

You’d done everything you could to keep her spirits up, binge watching her favorite TV show even though you didn’t really like it, buying her takeout from her favorite restaurant every chance you got, and taking her out for ice cream nearly every week.

You’d been a constant in her life since childhood, doing all you could to keep in touch, even when you lived overseas.

And here you were, holding her tightly against your chest, your nose buried in her hair as you slept soundly.

Seeing Sam with someone else had been heartbreaking, but the more she thought about Sam, the less sadness she felt.

That sadness was replaced, replaced by the way she was feeling about you, how she’d ALWAYS felt about you.

Even during her time with Sam, she still couldn’t shake the feelings she had for you, she couldn’t let you go, no matter how many times Sam asked.

She knew deep down it was because she loved you, in an entirely different way than she loved Sam.

“Maybe this was a blessing in disguise.” She whispers, caressing your cheek gently, a growl rumbling in your throat as you snuggle closer.

She smiles, leaning forwards, her forehead resting against your own as she too falls fast asleep.

************************************************************************

The following morning, she wakes with a hum, snuggling back into your warmth, her eyes flashing wide open when something hard brushes against her backside.

She swallows hard, a lump forming in her throat when she realizes what it is that’s brushing against her.

She’d known that you were intersex since you were children, and of course, it hadn’t bothered her.

In fact, she’d grown rather curious about it in your teenage years, asking to see it once, which you had done, nervously.

She’s seen it a number of other times, considering you slept at her house more often than not, and boxers were your go to sleepwear.

She, however, never felt an iota of discomfort.

It was a part of you, and she loved you.

She knew you were embarrassed by it, and in high school, when the first girl you slept with let it slip that you were packing, you became the talk of the school, something that Kristie did everything in her power to shield you from.

The night you’d told her you lost your virginity, she’d felt a tinge of jealousy, jealous at the fact that someone else had taken what she wanted.

She’s brought back to reality when you groan softly, snuggling closer, brushing the bulge in your boxers against her.

She slams her eyes shut, resisting the urge to grind back against it, uncertain if that was what you wanted or not.

The woman stiffens when you begin to stir, a lengthy yawn leaving you as you become aware of the situation.

“Fuck.” You mumble, your eyes widening when you realize Kristie is awake.

“I-I-I'm so sorry Kris. I--

You’re cut off when the woman shakes her head.

“Don’t be sorry, it’s natural.” She shrugs and you nod, still deeply embarrassed, the tips of your ears blood red.

“Uh... I’ll be back in a—Yeah.” You stutter before sprinting out of the room, the woman shaking her head as she rests back into your pillows, your scent clouding her senses before she falls fast asleep.

***********************************************************************

Sleeping in your bed had become a regular occurrence, and nearly every morning she had to resist the urge to grind back into the hard appendage digging into her from behind.

The more time that passed, the more she realized how deep her feeling for you went.

She craved the sound of your laugh, and to see your smile. She loved when you complained about watching The Bachelor all the time, but never even attempted to stop watching alongside her.

She loved the way you’d smile at her when you thought she wasn’t looking, and the way you’d carry her to bed if she’d fallen asleep on the couch.

She loved the way you’d gently hold her and bury your nose in the space behind her ear when you were fast asleep, a position you were currently in.

You let out a growl at the sound of your dinging phone, the rapid notifications pulling you from your slumber.

“What the fuck.” You mumble as you blindly reach for your phone, refusing to turn around and leave your place pressed against Kristie’s back, a way you’d woken up often as of late.

You stare bleary eyed at the screen, your brows knitting in confusion before your eyes widen and you shoot upright, startling the woman in front of you.

“What?” She asks in concern, her own eyes widening when you turn the phone towards her, multiple pictures of the two of you together littering the screen, all beneath the caption of.

A New Relationship blossoming in the WSL?!?!

Her throat bobs as she scans the article, the writer suspecting that there was a relationship blossoming between the two of you, that there was more to your relationship than just friends. They also mentioned their surprise at the idea that the two of you may be together, since you had an organ, most lesbian weren’t interested in.

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose as she takes your phone.

“I’m sorry Kris, you’re already going through a lot, and this just made it worse.” You mumble, running your fingers through your hair.

Her blue orbs scan the article again and again before she eventually places the phone on the nightstand beside you, the look on her face telling you she’s contemplating something.

You swallow hard, unable to take the silence before you move to your feet and leave the room, heading towards the living room and sitting down on the couch.

“Y/N?!” Kristie calls out as she follows close behind you, your head down, your hands covering your face.

"Hey...” She whispers as she drops to her knees in front of you, prying your hands away from your face before she cups your cheeks.

“What's wrong?” She asks and you shake your head, your eyes fluttering shut.

“I’m sorry I made it worse.” You mumble, unable to look her in the eye, that is until she tilts your chin upwards, your Y/E/C orbs meeting her bright blues.

“You didn’t make anything worse.” She whispers, cupping your cheek.

“They mentioned my...” You glance downward at your lap, realizing you were still sporting a hard on, making you blush.

Kristie sighs, the woman’s blue orbs darting from your face to the front of your boxers and back.

Your breath hitches when she moves to her feet, a sharp gasp leaving you when she climbs into your lap, her hands resting on the couch behind you.

“K-Kris...?” You stammer, willing yourself not to rock your hips into her.

She cups your cheeks, caressing your smooth, tanned skin gently before leaning forwards.

You go stiff as the woman’s lips meet yours, but you kiss back with no sense of hesitation, the woman’s breath hitching when you start kissing back.

You get lost in the kiss, your tongue flicking against the blonde’s bottom lip before her lips part, allowing you entry, your tongue tentatively brushing against her own.

“Kris.” You sigh between kisses, her arms wrapping around your neck as the kisses between you grow sloppy.

Reluctantly, you part, only to chase her lips for one last gentle kiss before you pull away, your Y/E/C orbs fluttering open at the same time as her blues.

“Wow.” You whisper, your chest heaving as you take in the blonde’s disheveled state, her cheeks flushed and chest rising and falling rapidly.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” She confesses, your eyes widening.

“R-Really?” You stutter, the woman nodding.

“How could I not?” She asks, her hands settling on your shoulders.

“I love you Y/N, I always have.” She whispers, though to you, it sounds like she’s screaming.

You stare at her, mouth agape as you wait for the other shoe to drop, wait for yourself to wake up in your bed, the woman snuggled against your chest, fast asleep.

You however don’t wake up, considering you were already awake, the woman you’d loved since your childhood straddling your lap, and confessing her love to you.

Your throat bobs as you lean back in, your lips meeting hers in a much tamer kiss than the ones you’d just shared.

“I love you too.” You confess, the woman grinning as she throws her arms around your neck, hugging you tightly to her chest.

She giggles as you kiss her neck playfully, your fingers digging into her sides.

“Stoppp, that tickles.” She laughs, wiggling in your lap.

You still, a groan crawling up your throat that causes the two of you to spring apart, Kristie’s blue orbs wide when she realizes she’d been grinding against you.

“I-I-I'm sorry.” You stutter as you try to hoist the woman off your lap, but she doesn’t move, pushing her knees down hard, making it nearly impossible for you to move her.

Your eyes meet hers, a twinkle in her blue orbs you hadn’t seen before.

Her hands again find their way onto the back of the couch, her tongue swiping at her lips before she gives her hips a roll.

“K-Kris...” You stammer, your hands on her hips as she rolls them again, her core dragging against your hardness.

“Jesus.” She sighs, burying her face in your neck as she rocks against into you.

You wrap your arms tightly around her as she grinds harder into you lap.

“Fuck.” You moan into her neck, the couch squeaking beneath you, your hips bouncing.

You feel the telltale sign of your impending orgasm, the base of your hard cock starting to thrum in pleasure.

“Kristie, I’m--

She pulls back, resting her forehead against yours, your lips brushing with each roll of her hips.

“Close?” She asks and you nod rapidly, her tongue swiping at her lips as you moan against her neck, sounds she’d never heard before coming from your open mouth.

Sounds that make her core pulse and her clit throbbing.

You let out a growl, thrusting upwards as you come, the woman moaning as you twitch and quake against her, the front of your boxers now a darker shade thanks to your release.

You pant heavily, the woman’s hips still rocking gently against your own, her lips pursed.

You lean in, your lips meeting hers gently, the kisses, again, growing heated.

“Come here baby.” You whisper, the woman whining softly as you turn her around and pull her back into your lap, her back resting against your chest.

“Is this, okay?” You ask, tracing the hem of her shorts and she sighs.

“Yeah.” She says, her breath hitching when your hand brushes the front of her shorts, which is incredibly soaked, from not only your release, but her arousal.

“You’re so wet for me.” You whisper in her ear, earning a whimper as you trace her through her shorts, your fingers lightly brushing against where you know her clit is.

“Oh...” She gasps, pushing back into you.

“Right there?” You whisper in her ear, kissing the soft skin behind her ear.

“Right there... Please...” She begs, moaning when you start drawing small circles against the damp patch on her shorts.

Her hips rock, the woman grinding back into you, your flaccid cock again growing hard as she moans shamelessly, the woman near tumbling over the edge.

“Are you gonna come?” You whisper in her ear, the woman nodding rapidly, her moans raising an octave before she stiffens in your hold.

She quivers in your hold, her thighs shaking as she comes with a sinful moan that sounds a lot like your name.

She pants heavily, your fingers drawing small, teasing circles against her clit, prolonging her orgasm, only stilling when she grabs your wrist.

“Fuck.” She pants, the woman stilling entirely in your hold before turning around, again straddling your lap as she surges in.

Unlike the kisses before, it’s passionate, fueled not by lust, but by love, your kisses sweet and tender.

You eventually, reluctantly part, the two of you resting your foreheads against one another.

“Well, that was unexpected.” You say with a grin, the woman giggling as you bump the tip of your nose against hers.

“Yeah, it was.” She whispers, pecking your lips over and over again until you laugh.

You wrap your arms tightly around her, hugging her to your chest, the woman burying her face in your neck.

“Do you regret it?” She whispers nervously against your flesh, and you scoff, your hold on her tightening.

“I could never regret being intimate with the woman I love.” You turn your head, kissing her temple.

She pulls back, her shimmering blue orbs locking with your Y/E/C’s.

“Do you?” You ask, full well knowing what her answer was going to be.

She smiles cupping your cheeks, her lips brushing yours as she whispers.

“Definitely not. In fact...” She pauses, burying her face in your neck, the woman sucking on your pulse point.

“I wouldn’t mind doing it again.” She whispers, her lips brushing your earlobe.

She squeaks, as you lift her into the air, carrying her towards the bedroom, the woman giggling as you kiss her neck playful.

In reality, your day ended there, the two of you, instead, falling fast asleep in one another’s arms, right where the two of you belonged.

You couldn’t help but think that Sam Kerr’s biggest mistake became your biggest gain, because now, you had what she didn’t.

You had Kristie Mewis.

#uswnt x reader #woso x reader #kristie mewis x reader #kristie mewis imagine #let me know what you think guys!

325 notes · View notes

sooniebby · 1 year

Note

Hello, I am actually not sure if requests are open or not but feel free to ignore me if they aren’t! Would you be comfortable writing nsfw, pirate Bakugou x merman reader? Maybe Bakugou found him and decided to examine, and found a “hole” on m/n’s backside.. y’know? :D Thanks love, your writing is great!!

ఌ 𝐁𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐆𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈

꧁ 𝙆𝙖𝙩𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙞 𝙭 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ꧂

Word count › 2.2k

Rating › NSFW

Warnings › reader has a vagina. Use of pussy/cunt. Weird mermaid butthole

Kinks › breeding/creampie, dub con

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

╰┈─➤ ＢＥＧＩＮＮＩＮＧ

Katsuki wasn’t scared of anything. Any sea creature was swiftly killed by himself before they could even get a chance at him. He was the leader of his ship for a reason. But the sea was unpredictable.

He had knew that.

His ship, and his crew, were almost killed by a sudden tsunami passing through. Their boat was set off course and they wound up on some island. It was deserted so he sent his crew to find someone to repair the boat.

His crew was pretty small. Just Izuku, Tenya, Eijiro, Mina, and some random ass man named Aizawa. He wasn’t even sure were Aizawa came from. But it was nice to have a much older pirate to give him some tips whenever he was having trouble.

He would never tell him that. That’s for him and his brain to now.

But being captain, he decided to stay back with Tenya to watch the ship. Tenya was doing the best he could to fix the ship but he certainly needed help and new material. It was a miracle the ship hadn’t sank.

Katsuki was giving Tenya his space to work properly when he spotted a body on shore. He ignored them the first hour, believing they were just sunbathing.

But the body didn’t move.

It didn’t move for two hours.

He decided to just check. Just to make sure he hadn’t been staring at a dead body for so long.

“I’ll be right back,” he grunted before jumping off the ship. He didn’t even wait for Tenya to answer.

Not like he could stop him. He was captain after all.

Once he reached close to the body, he froze.

A mermaid!

He had thought Aizawa was crazy when he told about it before. But no, a mermaid was on the ground. Dead..?

Katsuki leaned down and pressed his ear on the mermaid’s chest, waiting for a heartbeat. Maybe it shouldn’t be in the sun. He reached down to grab the mermaid’s tail(?) and tried to pick it up.

That didn’t work. It would’ve even budge. He grunted and decided to just drag it to the ocean. Grasping the end of the tail, he began to drag it.

The thing didn’t even budge. Could it really be dead?

The first touch of water on his feet and the tail sent the mermaid awake wihh the a jolt. It screamed in shock, mainly fear, and began to try and pull away from Katsuki.

“Hey! Calm down!” He yelled, letting go of the tail as it began to violently slash water in his face. Wiping away the water, he glanced down at the mermaid who had stopped moving.

It looked at him in fear before looking around the area.

“Where…?” It said but soon stopped.

“You okay?” Katsuki asked.

Katsuki wasn’t even sure if this mermaid had a gender. It looked male based on its flat chest and boyish features. But was that a male to other mermaids?

“The water..” the mermaid replied. He(?) looked at Katsuki before glancing over at their wrecked ship. A frown appeared on his lip. Was he connecting the dots..?

“The water pushed me away. I don’t know…” he looked panicked, tears streaming down his face. “Oh no…”

Katsuki didn’t know what to say. What could he say to someone, a creature he thought was fake, on basically being washed away from his family? How far did it take him?

“I can… I can help you find your family.” Katsuki said. He wanted to punch himself in the face. How the fuck were they supposed to find them?

A smile appeared on the mermaid lips. “Really?! You’re so nice!”

“Yeah…”

“Meet me back here tonight, yes?” The mermaid asked.

“Sure.” Katsuki said. He didn’t have the heart to tell him that he wasn’t sure he could actually do that.

“Call me… oh. (Name)!” (Name) said. “What’s your name?”

“Katsuki. Bakugo Katsuki.”

“Suki!” (Name) giggled.

“No—”

“I’ll see you later, Suki!” With that, (Name) went back into the ocean. Katsuki watched with a heavy feeling on his heart. He didn’t know what to do. For the first time in awhile.

He’d have to ask Aizawa.

ꕤ

“Hey! Those mermaids you were yapping about! I got a few questions.” Katsuki said when everyone else was sleeping in their quarters. Aizawa looked at him with a raised brow but nodded for him to continue.

“What if… what if they were real?”

“They are.”

“Tch! You know what I mean. What if you meet one?”

“Mermaids don’t like talking to humans. Only if they need something.”

“…what if you promise something one of them?” Katsuki asked, glancing at the sunset. It was almost time for him to meet (Name).

Aizawa finally turned to face him. “What have you done?”

“The fuck? Why’re you so scared?”

“Katsuki, what did the mermaid want?”

“To find his home. He got washed up by the tsunami.”

“Okay.. okay. What was the promise?”

“Well, to meet him tonight. The family was something I said.”

Aizawa seemed to calm down a bit. “Alright. Go tonight but tell him you can’t help him. You have a ship and crew to worry about. Mermaids aren’t as innocent as they seem.”

Katsuki hummed. “Alright. I’ll tell you how it goes.” He didn’t know why he felt sad. It felt so cruel to get the mermaid’s hopes up only to tell him no right after. But if Aizawa was fearful of the mermaid, he’d do what he said.

At the spot he had last seen (Name), it was about a twenty minute walk from the ship. It was a bit hard to see anyone from where his ship was, especially in the dark. Katsuki waited a bit until he saw (Name) swim up.

“Suki!”

“Hey, I’m sorry but i can’t help you.”

(Name) frowned.

“I have my ship and crew mates to worry about. We also got displaced by this tsunami too. I’m sorry for getting your hopes up.” Katsuki hoped that would suffice.

(Name) stared at him. He just stared. His mouth opened and suddenly Katsuki found himself in a cave. Katsuki looked around in shock, wondering just what the hell happened.

The cave was illuminated with blue crystals. It looked like the cave they had saw when steering themselves to this land. But how did he get here?

He looked around and saw (Name) beside him, on his front. His backside was out and free, showing off a hole in his tail. If (Name) had been human, Katsuki was sure it would’ve been where his ass is.

Was that a butthole?

Something was certainly wrong with Katsuki because never in his life would he willingly touch someone’s asshole. Especially a sea creature. But he slowly reached over and pressed both hands on either side of the hole and pulled it apart.

It certainly mimicked an asshole. But it was blue, like (Name)’s tail. Katsuki couldn’t help himself. It was as if his body moved on auto pilot as he slipped in two fingers with ease.

The feeling was unreal. He wasn’t sure what it felt like but he didn’t really have anything to compare it to. It clenched tightly around his fingers whenever he pulled them out too far.

“Suki…”

Huh? Was (Name) awake?

“Suki, you big pervert!”

The sound of skin slapping together caught Katsuki’s attention. Whatever or wherever he was, he was back on the beach. The sand on his back and the moon shining down on him.

Did he take any fucking drugs during dinner? What the hell was going on?

“Suki! What were you dreaming about?”

Katsuki grunted as he looked at the heavy body on top of him. It was (Name). But with a human lower half. (Name) had a pussy. But still had a male upper half. It was strange but Katsuki couldn’t ignore the pleasure he got from (Name)’s pussy(?) around his cock.

Was he going crazy?!

“You’re so big, Suki. I’m glad the moon chose you,” (Name) moaned, picking up the pace as he slammed down on the cock beneath him. His moaning tied with the slapping of skin was so foreign to Katsuki.

He had become a pirate since he was fourteen. He never had the time for dating. His crew and ship mattered too much to worry about dating. Sure he masturbated but he never felt tight heat of a pussy or ass.

And god was he angry he waited until he was twenty-five for it. What a boring life to live.

(Name) was a moaning mess, his pussy clenching down on Katsuki’s cock whenever he almost slipped out. He was too focused on his own pleasure at this point.

Katsuki grunted as he gripped (Name)’s waist. He wasn’t sure if he should push him off or pull him closer. Something about the moon above him was making him feel hazy. He couldn’t think straight.

All he could think about was breeding.

But he was never into having children. Was it because of (Name)? He wasn’t sure but he knew that future Katsuki could worry about that. Katsuki right now would enjoy the pleasure he’s been missing.

“Suki… Suki, please give me babies,” (Name) babbled, his bouncing beginning to be inconsistent. He was getting tired. If (Name) was a mermaid all this time, using legs would be so tiring.

Katsuki smirked to himself. He might as well help the poor guy out.

With ease, he switched their positions. (Name) squeaked as his back touched the cold sand and Katsuki towered over him. He blushed at the sight of him covering his body.

“You want a baby so bad? I’ll have to breed this cunt, then.”

Katsuki slammed his cock back inside (Name)’s awaiting cunt, enjoying the squeals he got from him. He reached one hand down and rubbed at the large nub sticking out of (Name)’s pussy. It resembled a little cocklit, if he had to be honest.

The attention towards it gained screams from (Name). His hands clawed at Katsuki’s back as he wrapped his legs around his waist, effectively making him trapped inside of his wet cunt.

Whatever the moon was doing to his libido, Katsuki felt close already. His thrusting began to speed up, wanting to dump his load inside of (Name).

“Suki! Inside, please~!”

Katsuki simply grunted as he captured (Name)’s lips into a kiss. (Name) easily returned it, his moans being muffled by it. It took only two more thrusts before Katsuki’s was emptying himself inside of (Name), pulling away from the kiss for a breather.

“Suki, you helped me fulfill the moon’s promise.” (Name) said, grasping at Katsuki’s face as he smiled up at him. Katsuki hummed in confusion. He honestly just wanted to sleep.

“Mermaids are born female and male… but a curse makes males unable to have a cock. We have to get pregnant by human males. It’s why I have a vagina.”

“I’m so confused..” Katsuki yawned. “It doesn’t explain that weird dream..”

“Thats what I have in my true form. The moon gives us human body parts for the breeding. Thank you, Suki. I’ll be able to have babies.”

Katsuki simply hummed and collapsed on top of (Name). (Name) blinked as he heard the pirate fall asleep. In the moon, mermaids got their human body and much more hornier for breeding. It did enhance the human males’ libido as well but it always gave the after effect of falling asleep right after.

“But I’m still horny…” (Name) whined.

ꕤ

Katsuki woke up with a jolt. The sun was beginning to rise. He groaned in pain as he felt something clench around his cock. It felt similar to the weird hole in his dream.

He glanced to his side and saw (Name)’s back towards him. Katsuki’s own arms was wrapped around his waist as his cock was buried deep inside the asshole. (Name) had his tail back.

“Are you finished…?” (Name) whimpered, his breathing shallow. He sounded tired. Just how long did they go for?

“What the..?”

“You started to fuck me so suddenly. I think the moon was still affecting you to breed. But I’m back in my mermaid form, it won’t take.” (Name) sounded disappointed.

Katsuki glanced down to see the hole was drenched with cum inside. A few drops dripped out onto the sound. He kinda wished he was awake during that. How did a mermaid asshole feel to fuck?

Well, it’s not like he’d have anything to compare it to.

Katsuki pulled out, watching the sudden glob of cum that rushed out of (Name)’s hole. (Name) whimpered at the feeling.

“Sorry… but do you mind pushing me back to the ocean…?”

“Oh, sure.”

Once (Name) was in the water. He looked back at Katsuki with a grin.

“Can you come back here in six months? The babies would be born by then!”

Katsuki felt faint. First time he ever had sex was with a mermaid and he was already a father.

“Yeah.. yeah I’ll come back.”

With that, (Name) was gone with a flourish. Katsuki pulled up his pants as he tried not to think hard about how he was going to be a father to mermaids. How much would (Name) give birth to?

“I’m shocked you lived.”

Katsuki looked over to see a tired Aizawa.

“The hell? What do you mean?”

“Usually the mermaid kills the father. He probably likes you.” Aizawa muttered, turning to go back to the ship. “Oh, congrats on the kids.”

Katsuki wanted to fucking kill him.

But he wasn’t wrong. He was now a father.

But he did wonder, was (Name) really washed up by the tsunami?

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

╰┈─➤ ＥＮＤ

Added a few things 🤭 little special something

Thanks for the request!

#bottom male reader #bnha x male reader #bakugo x male reader

1K notes · View notes

muchosbesitos · 8 months

Text

forbidden pt 2

pairing: brother’s best friend miguel x fem reader

warnings: mentions of a piss kink(as a joke i’m sry 🧍🏻), exhibition, fingering, 69, missionary, overall smut 🫡

author’s note: not much to say, hope you enjoy :)

Before you got a chance to try to explain yourself, Miguel interrupted you, putting his hands on your shoulders as he looked directly at you. "Look, for your sake and for your brother's sake, I didn't hear anything. Nothing happened, right?" He asked, watching for any reaction from you. "Right," you mumbled, feeling embarrassed that you had completely misread the kiss in the closet at the party. You walked over to the living room with Miguel, grabbing two water bottles and handing one to him. "So you don't need anything?" He asked, glancing over at you as you sipped on your water. "Just a hole to swallow me up," you mumbled, more so to yourself than him. He pursed his lips, choosing to stay quiet as you turned on the tv in front of you.

Soon enough, you'd fallen asleep to the show playing on the tv and Miguel couldn't help but smile a bit as he looked over at you. Your lips were slightly parted as you snored, your hair disheveled from the moving on the couch, but most importantly, he saw how relaxed you were, a sharp comparison from the outspoken girl he got to meet. He picked you up in his arms, taking you to your room. He was about to leave the room when he felt your hands on his arm, preventing him from leaving. Miguel decided to stay the night, laying down on the bed next to you as he stroked your hair. As he held you in his arms, he couldn't help but wonder if this was what Eve felt with the apple, having the temptation dangling right in front of you without being able to divulge in it.

Miguel started to shift on the bed, trying to get comfortable but felt something digging in his back every time he moved. His shifting had woken you up and you turned around to see him holding your pink sparkly dildo in his hands, an amused smirk pulling at his lips. "You could've asked me if you wanted a proper size reference, preciosa," he said, looking over at you. "Cállate. It was on sale at Spencer’s," you replied groggily, grabbing the dildo from his hands as he burst out laughing. "Do the sparkles make it feel better?" He asked in between laughs, letting out a small groan as you punched his arm. "You can sleep on the floor si sigues burlandote," you replied, turning to your side as you put the dildo in your nightstand. "But yes, the sparkles make it feel better." (if you keep making fun)

You woke up the next morning with a hand splayed across your stomach, your back plush against a hard chest. You shifted a little on the bed to see Miguel cuddling up next to you, his soft snores filling up the room. You couldn't help but smile a bit, seeing Miguel so vulnerable and so comfortable with you. You tried to get up from the bed but Miguel held on to you like a stuffed animal, clutching you close to his chest. "Miguel, I have to pee," you huffed out, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. "Just pee in my mouth," he mumbled, his face buried in your neck. "Would've never taken you for a piss kink guy," you mumbled, giving up on your efforts. "So what you're saying is that it's completely fine to fuck yourself silly with a sparkly dildo to my beach Instagram pic but a piss kink is where you draw the line?" He asked, rubbing his eyes as he let go.

"I don't see how those two correlate. And how'd you even know it was that pic?" You called out from the bathroom once you went inside, closing the door with your foot. "You liked it at 12. Wasn't that hard to figure out," he remarked, a hint of amusement in his tone. You came out out of the restroom a couple minutes later, going back to the bed. "Even if I did do such a thing, someone said it never happened," you responded with a small shrug, glancing over at him. His hair was sticking out in all directions as he got up from the bed, his shirt riding up as he stretched. "Touché."

You and Miguel went to the kitchen a little while after, starting to bake some pancakes when your brother came in through the front door, trying to be as quiet as possible. His eyes grew wide as he heard you and Miguel’s teasing laughs, walking over to the two of you. "Are you sure you slept with Katie last night? You look like you got attacked by leeches, man," Miguel remarked, watching the reddening hickeys on your brother's neck. Your brother rolled his eyes, walking over to the kitchen to get himself a cup of coffee. "What're you doing here so early, O’Hara?" Your brother asked, leaning against the counter as he watched you mix the pancake batter. "Your sister was asleep when I got here so I figured staying the night wouldn't hurt," Miguel responded, handing you an egg. He took notice of the way your fingertips grazed against his, but remained neutral as to not give your brother any motive for suspicion.

Your brother left the kitchen a little after, claiming that he was tired and needed some sleep. You and Miguel sat at the dining table, eating the pancakes in a comfortable silence. You stopped eating when you noticed Miguel was staring at you, your brows furrowed as you tried to decipher what he could be thinking about. "Mira, it's not that I don't want to sleep with you. God knows I’d love to but you saw the look on your brother's face when he saw me cooking pancakes in the kitchen," he spoke up, wiping some syrup away from his chin with a napkin. You thought about what he said, taking a bite of your pancakes as you looked down at the floor. "Look, what happened last night was just a stupid mistake, okay? I completely misread what happened with the kiss and I'm sorry if it made you feel weird," you replied, wiping some syrup away from your own mouth. He wanted to tell you that he didn't find it weird at all, that the only thoughts from now on when his hand wraps around his cock will be just how pretty you sounded, but he chose to stay quiet.

You had managed to avoid Miguel for the next couple of weeks, since you'd passed your physics class and he made a point of not coming to the apartment when he knew you were at home. However, one of the events that neither of you could miss was the annual Christmas dinner that your brother put together, since that would arise his suspicion that something was going on. He'd even asked you the other day if something was going on with Miguel, to which you denied way too quickly but your brother responded with a small shrug, still under the idea that you and Miguel hated each other.

You couldn't handle facing Miguel at the party with some backup so you decided to ask one of your best friends for a favor. You knew that he had just gotten out of a messy breakup so he would be the perfect candidate for this plan you conjured up while in the bathroom. You picked up some of his favorite snacks, hoping that the bribery would work. "Can you be my fake boyfriend please?" You asked once he took the snacks from you, fluttering your lashes innocently as you sat down on the edge of his bed. He rolled his eyes, taking a bite out of the snack as he looked over at you. "Fine, so long as this isn't like some Wattpad scheme to get me to fall in love with you," he remarked, a small smirk on his lips as he extended his hand out. You shook his hand, letting out a small laugh at his condition. "I solemnly swear I won't fall in love with you."

Before the party had started, Miguel approached your brother and decided to ask him the question that had been lingering in his mind. "What would you think if I wanted to start dating your sister?" Miguel asked, grabbing a beer from the fridge as he looked at your brother for any reaction. "Well, I wouldn't be happy with it given your dating history but I wouldn't tell her against it. Shes smart enough to know what's good for her, and besides, the more you tell someone not to something the more they want to do it," he replied, surprising Miguel with his answer.

"That's weirdly insightful coming from you."

"First of all, that's very rude. And second of all, I am a licensed psychologist after all."

"Taking AP Psychology in high school doesn't make you a licensed psychologist, dude."

Despite all the remarks with your brother, he felt a weight be relieved from his chest when he got the approval that everything would be okay with the two of them. He was now going to pursue his feelings towards you, start showing you just how much he liked you throughout the years. However, that idea quickly flew out the window when he saw you walk into the apartment hand in hand with someone else. He felt the blood roaring in his ears as you started to introduce him as your boyfriend, his grip almost crushing the guy's hand when it was his turn to shake hands. His knuckles turned ghostly white from how hard he was gripping his hand, only letting go when he saw the look of concern in your eyes.

The dinner went by smoothly, the conversation flowed with easy as you managed to ignore the stares that Miguel was giving you throughout the night. You saw your date gently rubbing his knuckles from how hard Miguel had shook his hand, giving him a sympathetic smile. When the dinner had ended, your brother stood at the edge of the table, clinking his fork against his champagne glass. "So as I'm sure you all know, me and Katie have been dating for the last couple months and they've been amazing. so with that, I'd like to announce our wedding!" Your brother spoke out, your eyes drifting over to Katie to see some tears forming on the brim of her eyes from how excited she seemed to be. Even if the concept of marrying young confused you, you were glad that your brother found someone that made him truly happy.

The dinner had died down soon after and everyone had moved to the living room to share a glass of aguardiente that Miguel had brought over, reminiscing over past christmas reunions. Your eves eventually landed on Miguel, finding that he was already staring at you with an expression of longing. Like he wanted to say something but he couldn't. You brushed off those thoughts, deciding to take the rejection with some dignity, and went back to looking at your brother as he acted out the time you broke your nose at the ski lodge.

You had been trying to learn how to ski since you spent most of the time at the resort watching your brother and Miguel do it from the window. You wanted to ask your brother how to do it, but you remembered the hushed whispers he shared with Miguel in his room, about how he asked him to feel bad that you didn't have anyone else to talk to, and decided against it. However, you had completely miscalculated just how steep the slope was and while you were on the skis, you completely lost control. A giant rock in the middle of the mountain was all you saw before you went unconscious, one of the ridges hitting your nose directly.

When you arrived back at consciousness, you saw Miguel looming over you with a worried expression on his face. "Oh thank god you're not dead," he sighed out in relief, helping you get up from the snow. "Why would I be dead?" You asked, looking over at him in confusion as you leaned against him for support. "Well you were unconscious in the middle of the snow," he muttered, taking you to the nurse's room in the resort room. "Don't do that again, next time you wanna learn something, ask me," he spoke up when the nurse left the room to check up on another patient. You weren't sure why, but seeing him so worried about you made something fluttery take hold on your stomach, feeling something apart from disdain for him.

The memories from what happened were bittersweet, the way Miguel looked at you when your brother was describing the events making that fluttery feeling take place once more. Eventually, your brother and Katie headed back to her dorm to spend Christmas Eve at her place leaving just Miguel and your fake boyfriend in the room. Your ‘boyfriend’ leaned over, pressing a small kiss on your cheek, just enough to still sell the relationship, before saying goodbye to Miguel and leaving. You felt Miguel’s eyes boring into you as he left, the feeling making you a bit unsettled. He started to speak but you decided to interrupt him, the need to explain yourself starting to grow overwhelming.

"He's my fake boyfriend, we're not dating," you spoke up, rubbing the back of your neck as your eyes darted from side to side. "I guessed, he just ended things with Eddie Brock," Miguel replied with a small shrug, keeping his gaze on you. You looked back at him, your eyes widening a bit as you brushed a piece of hair away. "Thanks for not saying anything," you mumbled, feeling your cheeks flush red at the fact that Miguel had caught your lie so early on. You watched miguel roll his eyes and get up from the couch, taking a small box out of his pocket. He handed the box to you and started to head out the door before he turned around to look at you. "Your brother said he wouldn't have a problem if we started something, but have fun with your fake relationship. I'm sure that's very fulfilling. Merry Christmas," he spoke up, clearing his throat before he left.

A couple of weeks later before the actual wedding, you and your ‘boyfriend’ decided to end things before it got too serious. You knew that he deserved a chance to get out there and start dating once more, so you didn't want to hold him back. You walked into your brother's room with tears in your eyes and your mascara dripping down your cheek as you threw yourself on his bed. "What happened?" He asked you in a soft tone, rubbing your back. A part of you felt bad at how comforting he was being, but you knew that you had to sell the part. "My boyfriend and I ended things. He said he wanted to prioritize other things in his life," you spoke up after a couple minutes, completing it with a choked sob as you wiped away at your eyes. Your brother started to try to cheer you up, giving you free access to the remote and even buying some of your favorite ice cream.

Soon enough though, the wedding arrived and you found yourself sitting at the reception, simply watching other people talk and dance while you sipped on your champagne. Your eyes widened a bit as Miguel sat down next to you when the waiters started to take the food out and your brother started with his speech. You tried to focus on what your brother was saying but you felt Miguel’s gaze burning into you, your eyes flickering to see him. You instantly regretted it since you realized that Miguel was dressed in a black tux, the same as all the other groomsmen, but he filled it out so well. The suit looked like it was tailored just to fit his body and his normally disheveled hair was slicked back and away from his face. You turned away quickly, hoping he didn't catch you ogling over him and returned your attention back to your brother.

You felt Miguel’s fingers gently squeezing on your thigh, rubbing small circles as he started getting closer to your clothed pussy. His touch felt like it was waking a fire deep inside of you, the feeling of having him so close starting to mess with your brain chemistry. You looked up to see if he was as affected by this, but he remained focused with the conversation he was having with your brother. You spread your legs instinctively when you felt his fingers brush against your clothed pussy, his fingers rubbing small circles through the fabric. "Already so wet and I didn't even do anything, hm?" He whispered in your ear when your brother started to speak to another one of the guests, your pussy clamping around nothing.

Miguel continued with his teasing for a bit, prodding and rubbing through the fabric but not quite touching you just yet. You felt yourself growing needier with every single of one of his caresses, the pressure he was giving you wasn't enough to satiate the need you felt. "Please, just do something," you begged, the tone in your voice surprising you from how needy it sounded. "Calladita," he whispered, moving your panties off to the side as he plunged one finger deep inside of you. You nodded, biting down on your lip to suppress any noises as he slowly started pumping it in and out of you. His thumb went to your clit, rubbing small circles that matched with the rhythm he was going at. You clenched around his fingers, watching the way his brows furrowed at the tightness. He plunged another finger inside, the thickness of the two already filling you up. He curled his fingers to hit your g-spot, your hips grinding to match his rhythm. You pressed your hand against your mouth, your releases coating his fingers completely.

Miguel pulled his hand down from the table, licking his fingers as he looked over at your brother with a cocky smile on his face. "Dinner was amazing, thank you," he told your brother before standing up to go mingle with some of the other guests. You and Miguel didn't talk much after that, sometimes you caught yourself staring at him for too long and sometimes he would stare at you but that's where it ended. You kept wishing that he'd come over to talk to you , but he never did, choosing instead to maintain his distance. You got tired from the party about an hour later, excusing yourself from your brother and the guests before heading to the hotel room your brother had rented out.

You were in the middle of scrolling through tv channels and sipping on the wine room service had brought when you heard a knock on the door. Your eyes widen a bit as you saw Miguel standing in front of you, his suit jacket gone along with his tie. He stepped closer and grabbed your chin, kissing you like he'd been meaning to do that all night. You let out a soft whimper as your hands wrap in his hair, pulling him closer to you. He pulled on your lower lip, soothing the sting with his tongue and took the opportunity to slide his tongue in your mouth. He kissed you with so much passion, so much need and desire, and you felt your knees weakening at the intensity.

Miguel grabbed a 'do not disturb' sign and put it on the door knob before shutting it. Your clothes were discarded along with his on the floor, your bodies colliding as you made your way to the bed. You ended on top of him with your pussy in his face and your face against his cock, the tip reddening and leaking out precum. You let out a soft moan when you felt Miguel plunge a finger deep inside of you, curling as he moved it in and out of you. Your lips wrap around his cock, wanting to give him an ounce of the pleasure he was providing you. Miguel let out soft groans as you sucked on his cock, the vibrations adding on to the sensations you were feeling. His mouth wrapped around your clit, rolling his tongue around the bundle of nerves and making figure eights. Your cheeks hollowed as you took Miguel deeper in your mouth, his cock practically down your throat as you bobbed your head.

You took his balls in your hands, massaging them and tugging them to add to the pleasure he was already feeling. You felt the familiar coil building up inside of you, your juices practically soaking Miguel’s chin and nose as he buried his face into your clit. Miguel curled his fingers as he plunged one last time, your walls tightening around him tightly as you rode out your orgasm. Miguel felt his balls growing heavier as your tongue wrapped around the tip of his cock, the sensation shooting straight through him. The way your mouth just engulfed his cock felt like pure heaven, and he wanted as much as you would give him. "I’m gonna cum, princesa," he moaned out, alerting you to pull away. You were unrelenting and felt his cum shoot straight in your mouth, swallowing it as you licked at the corner of your mouth.

"Such a shame we don't have the pink sparkly dildo here," he remarked, an amused smirk pulling at his lips as he looked over you. His cock was already starting to get hard again, prepared for the next round. "We'll save that for next time, hm?" You replied, letting out a small laugh at the way he was still thinking about that. Miguel got on his knees in the bed, slowly running his cock against your folds to pick up the slick you were releasing. He slowly pushed his cock inside, filling you up already with just the first couple inches. You felt some tears prickling at your eyes at just the sheer size of him and he wiped them away, looking down at you with a tender expression. "Shh, you're doing so well for me."

He bottomed out after you got adjusted to his cock, slowly removing it before plunging it inside of you once more. You felt the air leave your lungs as he started off slow, yet deep, feeling his cock all the way to your cervix. He wanted to be a gentleman, take this slow and let you enjoy this as much as possible, but when you gripped his shoulders and your legs wrapped around his waist, he lost all semblance of self control. His hips rutted against yours, his pace quick and unrelenting as your moans filled the room. Your nails were digging into his shoulders but he enjoyed the feeling, encouraged it even, as his hips moved faster against yours. The sound of his balls slapping against your thighs and the moans escaping from your lips filled up the room, and you were certain you would receive a noise complaint tomorrow.

Miguel started to rub on your clit, giving you gentle but firm pressure, just enough to stimulate you but not enough to make you cum. Your toes curled as you felt his cock hit your g-spot, the grip on his shoulders tightening as you moaned. "I'm gonna cum," You babbled as miguel continued to thrust inside of you, his thrusts almost punishing. You clamped tightly around him as you came, your releases coating his cock completely. Miguel picked you up, pinning you against the wall as he slowly pushed inside of you once more. "I'm gonna fuck you on every surface of this hotel room, okay?"

You simply nodded, too dumbfounded to say anything, as his hips slowly snapped against yours. Your legs wrapped around his waist tightly and your hands around his neck as he started to speed up, his mouth attached to one of your breasts. "Tell me, did the dildo feel as good as this?" He asked, his lips now on your earlobe as he tugged slightly. "N-No! Only you make me feel like this!" You moaned out and Miguel felt his ego inflate at how dumb he had you on his cock. Your walls clamped around him tightly as his thrusts got deeper and faster, your nails raking down his back. He let out a moan as he started to feel his orgasm creeping up, but he didn't want to cum without you. His hand slowly snaked down to your clit, rubbing small precise circles on it as you babbled. You clenched around him tightly as you released, your juices hitting his abdomen and coating his cock completely. He saw the look on your face, one of complete bliss, and that pushed him over the edge, cumming deep inside of you.

"La fruta prohibida siempre es mas buena," he murmured to himself as he dragged a warm washcloth against your pussy, gently so as to not overstimulate you. (the forbidden fruit is always the best one)

@plumplumpurin @thel0velykey190

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neotohuu · 6 months

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Baby, only look at me.

jealous dom top male oc x sub bottom male reader; age gap (oc is older), breeding kink, cr*ampie (e), ch*king (o), hair pulling, semi public s*x (e), vouyerism, characters are implied to be under the influence but everything is consensual.

note: i'm the inconsistancy king lol...i'll find my writing style some...day.

Kai sipped on his whiskey as he watched you have fun on the dance floor with your friends. He chuckled when he saw you do your dorky little dance, he thought that you were the cutest guy in the world.

You barely even drank anything but laughed and danced around like you drank the whole bar under the table, this was definitely your first time in a club.

He didn't mind your friends dancing with you as for most of the time whilst you were dancing, they were protectively looking around you and keeping away any perverts.

"Hey, (Name)! We're gonna go get some drinks, okay? You just sit here!" One of (Name)'s friends said as Kai quietly tagged along with them to get some drinks, he gave you a small kiss on the forehead before leaving.

You sat there quietly, checking your phone every once in a while whilst sipping your virgin cocktail. Then, suddenly another man slipped into the booth, you didn't look up from your phone as you thought it was Kai who sat next to you.

"Oh, you're back early, baby..." you said to the person next to you who you thought was Kai, as an unfamiliar chuckle bubbled from his throat. You snapped your head towards the man. You immediately got a whiff of cigarettes and hair gel as he leaned closer to you.

"You're calling me baby, already huh, cutie...?" His gruff voice groaned out as he scratched his stubble and was about to put his hand on your thigh until Kai came and pushed him out of the booth.

"Get the f*ck away from him." Kai sneered as you sat there, confused and scared as you held him back from proceeding to punch the other man.

The man just glared at Kai before walking out of the bar, but before he opened the door, he turned back to look at you and pointed at your pocket.

You shuffled your hands inside your pocket to find a small piece of paper that had his number written on it, you looked at the man with shock and confusion as he winked at you.

Kai saw the piece of paper in your hand and his mind just snapped.

He immediately crumpled the paper and threw it on the dirty ground as he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you to the restrooms.

You and Kai were standing close together in a stall as he started groping your chest from behind, he peppered kisses on the nape of your neck as you let out a confused moan.

"W-Wait...ngh~ What's going on, Kai...- haah~" You whimpered out as he started pinching your nipples.

"I'm claiming back what's mine." He replied briefly as he flipped you around and kissed you passionately as he pulled out his already hard cock from his jeans.

Your hands tangled on his short dark hair as he shoved his tongue in your throat. "Ngh~ c-calm down, Kai..." You muttered in between kisses as he flipped you back around and bent you over.

He tugged your pants down and groped your plush and supple ass. "This ass is mine." He grunted as he spit on his cock to lube it up a bit, your hole was presented to him in a naughty manner as your face was laid against the wall.

Suddenly, someone entered the restrooms as well, the other person entered the stall next to you both. You gulped as you stayed silent but Kai had other plans.

He teased the outside of your hole slowly with his hot tip, your eyes widened as you grasped his hand and your puffy and watery eyes look at him. He coos silently before slamming his cock into your tight and wet hole.

You gasped and held back a moan as his cock curved perfectly to hit your g-spot. He then started to punish you with his slow thrusts...the sloppy sounds and the precum dripping on the ground, the person who just went inside the other stall would've clearly known.

And your friend did. He slowly pulled out his own hard cock in his pants as he stroked himself to the sound of your soft moans and gasps.

"Slut..." Kai groaned as he held your hand in his right hand and pulled your hair harshly in the other. You moaned due to the mix of pain and pleasure, you started drooling on your hand as you tried to silence yourself.

Your hand gripped on the wall as Kai's hand gripped on your hip tightly, he started thrusting into you faster and harder. At this point, the sloppy noises and your soft, lewd moans were making it obvious what you and Kai were doing in there.

His cock was hitting you in all the right places, your eyes were watering as he flipped you around and placed you on top of the toilet cover, not even pulling out for a second as he continued fucking you animalistically.

His hands slowly traveled from your hips to your neck, his grip slowly became tighter on your neck. "H-haah~" You let out a strangled, breathy moan as you started to bounce yourself on his cock.

Kai chuckled at the sight of your fucked-out face, a loving smile on his face as he kissed your lips. You were numb in pleasure as you took short breaths whilst he choked you.

"Mm...!" You whimpered in the kiss as he pulled away from your lips reluctantly, your arms wrapped around his neck and your legs wrapped around his waist.

"I-I'm gonna c-cum...ngh...h-haah!" You moaned out loudly, not caring if anyone heard you anymore. "S-shit...how'd you become tighter? ...I'm gonna cum too, baby." Kai groaned out as his thrusts became slower.

At this point, your friend in the other stall had came numerous times in his hand, and so did the other guys at the other stalls...

But you both didn't care anymore. You knew that you were his. He gave you one last thrust before releasing inside of you, you could feel his hot and gooey seed fill you up as you orgasmed as well.

Very lewd and pornographic moans came from your throat as the other guys couldn't help but imagine what it would've been like to fuck you.

You leaned your head back, breathless as he panted softly. You turned your head away from him, a shy habit you always did after sex. He grabbed your face softly but firmly and turned your head towards him.

"Baby, only look at me. Okay?" Kai said in a quiet, possessive tone. "'Kay..." You nodded softly as he pulled out from your hole. You could feel his cum dribbling out from your ass as you struggled to stand up.

He felt proud of his work as you both got out of ths stall, messily dressed, Kai's coat draped over your shoulders as the other guys opened their stall doors to look at you.

You both didn't care anymore though, you looked at Kai with a loving smile and leaned your head on his shoulder as he grabbed your waist comfortingly.

He knew you'd only look at him.

#male reader #x male reader #bottom male reader #x bottom reader #sub male reader #oc x male reader #gay

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blindmagdalena · 9 months

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The Fall

2.8k mostly sfw homelander x reader. christmas adjacent. depowered homelander.

Summary: After being struck by an unidentified projectile that renders him powerless, Homelander crash lands in your backyard, wholly at your mercy.

this is a rework of this original prompt. inspired by the fable of the mouse that aids the lion whose paw has been stuck by a thorn. ♡

Homelander is over a hundred feet in the air when he hears something whistling through the sky behind him. Some kind of projectile. A small missile, maybe. It's nothing he hasn't handled before: It could blow up in his face and he would be fine. He’s more curious about what exactly it is, who’s stupid enough to fire it at him, and where it’s coming from.

With that in mind–in that split second he has to react–he decides to forgo dodging it and instead attempt to catch it. However, as the mystery projectile gets nearer, his vision begins to tunnel.

What the fuck?

His reflexes slow, and before he knows it, the projectile strikes him hard in his left side rib, exploding in fumes that fill his lungs and coat his skin. In an instant, he feels pain like he's been turned inside out, a sensation worse than anything he’s felt since childhood. Instantly he's plummeting towards the ground, crashing directly into your backyard in an eruption of snow and yard furniture.

With his vision going black, the last thing he hears is the sound of the world turning deafeningly quiet.

When Homelander comes to, he's being shaken. No–compressed, hands over his chest, pushing again and again in a steady rhythm. Warm lips press against his, and a rush of air fills his lungs. His eyes snap open, and out of pure reflex, he drives his fist into your unfamiliar form, sitting up with a frenzied look in his eyes.

You should have flown back thirty feet with a hit like that. Instead, you only fell back onto your ass, coughing. Homelander's hands are shaking as he looks at them, and he can feel blood dripping from his ears, taste it in his mouth. He's disoriented, his whole body heavy. He's having trouble breathing, every ragged inhale a struggle, and his heart is pounding.

"Someone tried to kill me," he rasps in disbelief. Not surprised that someone tried, but that someone very nearly succeeded. "Someone... Someone tried to fucking kill me," he says again, growing more hysteric the more the pain sets in. His own brain is hammering against the confines of his skull, beating at the backs of his eyes.

He’s certain that he’s halfway to cardiac arrest, but no matter how he tries to focus, he can’t calm himself. His strength is gone. It’s gone. He looks at you, you, who should have a hole punched through your chest. Instead, you’re staggering to your feet, totally unharmed.

"Homelander!" You address sharply, audibly trying to rein in your own bubbling panic. He can see his own fear reflected in your eyes. You’re just as confused as he is. Just a stupid little mouse that crawled out of your hole and found him like this. "I can help you, okay? Let me help you."

There’s something about the sharp authority in your voice mixed with an undeniable quiver of compassion that catches his attention. It could be the degree of his vulnerability sinking in, but after a second of dumbfounded staring, Homelander nods.

It must be pure adrenaline that gives you the strength to help him into your house. You don’t look like you should be able to carry him. He's practically dead weight in your arms, barely keeping himself on his feet as you both stumble into your living room. The height difference does neither of you any favors.

You get him down onto the couch before fetching a wet rag, a bottle of water, pills, and a first aid kit. He watches you fumble with it, hands shaking. He assumes it’s adrenaline, though you lack the acidic stench of it. No, you probably don’t. He just can’t smell it anymore. He can’t smell anything except the faint tinge of blood, and whatever nauseating scented candle you use to stink up your home. Though, even that’s distant compared to what he’s used to. However, he finds he doesn’t have it in him to panic. Is this what shock feels like?

He takes the water you offer him, but denies the pills. “No, no. I have no idea what that shit will do to me right now.” You nod, setting the bottle aside. You then lean over him, inspecting the level of damage. His ears are ringing, and his whole body is throbbing with sharp, painful aches. Maybe the pills would help, but he’s never had to take painkillers before. He’d rather swallow tacks than lean on something so pedestrian.

As you work, he notices a mottled mark blossoming darkly across the center of your chest, just under your collarbone, approximately the size of his fist. Without thinking, he reaches up to touch it, remembering the blow he’d dealt you.

You startle, looking down where he touches with a wince. The skin looks as tender as he feels. It must sting. Is he bruised like this beneath his suit? The thought of these same ugly dark marks mirrored on his own body brings him visceral disgust.

"Don't worry about me," you tell him, as comforting as your voice can muster. You grasp his wrist and gently lay it back down at his side.

I'm not worried about you, he thinks derisively. "That should have caved in your chest."

"Guess it's my lucky day, then," you say absently, more focused on using a wet cloth to wipe away the blood from his temple, up into his hairline, seeking the injury. You're meticulous but gentle in the way you handle him, cupping the side of his face to turn him one way, then another.

If not for how clumsy your movements feel, he’d think you’ve done this before. There is care and determination in the way you tend to him, but no obvious medical expertise. Even the kit you pull from looks out of date and sparse. You probably picked it up from a gas station on a whim because you needed safety pins. "I think these need stitches," you say as you carefully apply bandages, brows furrowed. Homelander's gaze lingers on your lips as you speak. What kind of person sees someone fall out of the fucking sky, blowing a crater in their yard in the process, and then thinks to give them CPR?

"I'm calling an ambulance," you say, moving to stand. That breaks him out of his stupor. He catches you by the wrist, stopping you in your tracks, despite how pitifully weak his own grasp feels. "No, no, not... Don't do that," he says, screwing his eyes shut briefly. No one else can know that this happened. Besides, if those psychopaths are still out there, it will draw them right to him. "Too much attention, I just... give me a fucking minute," he says, flexing his hands. They still feel weak, tingling like they've fallen asleep, but the bizarre sensation is gradually beginning to abate.

Whatever was done to him, it doesn't seem to be permanent.

He hopes to fuck that it isn’t. "Okay," you say tentatively. Instead of leaving, however, you reposition to continue wiping the blood from his face, gently rubbing from his temples down his jaw. He watches you like a hawk, rolling his fingers in and out of fists, gradually feeling his strength return to him.

He's unaccustomed to the way you're handling him. One hand cupping his jaw, ginger in the way you move his head only when you absolutely need to. The concern wrinkled between your brows is so palpable, so sincere, that for a moment he almost forgets you're strangers to each other.

"What're you doing?" He asks eventually, voice low. You pause, looking down to meet his eye. "Oh, I just... There's still blood, and I didn't want to leave you alone."

Your response tightens something in his chest, like a steel coil wrung too tight, leaving him uncomfortable. He feels small, vulnerable, and the tenderness of your touch is doing nothing for it. "I don't need you," he snaps defensively. "I'm fine."

"Okay," you respond, aggravatingly calm. Still soothing. "What do you need?" Homelander opens his mouth, but hesitates. Your earnestness is infuriating, waiting on bated breath for what you can do for him. He closes his mouth, jaw tight. His gaze flickers back down to the bruise on your chest. It's darker now, varying shades of purple and yellow fading into one another.

Looking back up at you, he schools his expression into calm focus. "Close the blinds," he says, gesturing with his head to the window, where you have twinkling white Christmas lights strung up.

"I need to lay low awhile." He can feel his powers steadily returning. Once he gets back to Vought, he'll find out who it was, and rip out their fucking spine.

You've already gotten up to do as he asked, drawing the blinds down, and then closing the curtains over them. Afterwards, you turn to leave.

"Hey," Homelander calls, frowning. You stop in the doorway. "Where are you going?"

"The kitchen," you answer, hand on the doorframe. "You can call if you need something."

"Stay here," he says, ignoring the bit of petulance he can hear in his own voice. He doesn't care if you're confused. He doesn't care that he doesn't entirely understand himself. He just wants you to stay.

He watches you take a seat at the end of the couch, near his feet. He exhales, closing his eyes. It isn't as though you could do anything if proficient killers did appear, but for whatever reason, no matter how useless you would ultimately be, he feels better for having you near.

Even a curtain is better than no door at all.

After half an hour, his senses begin to sharpen again. It begins as a dull, irritating buzz at first. It has him rubbing at his ears, screwing his eyes shut. It rolls in and out of focus, making it difficult to adjust to. “Are you okay?” You ask from the other end of the couch, where you’ve been sitting with remarkable patience. Maybe you’re afraid of him. He hates not being able to tell by the rate of your heart.

“Peachy keen,” he replies flatly. “Hearing’s coming back.”

“That’s good,” you say, though the inflection you end with makes it sound more like a question.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s good, it’s just… Loud,” he says, grinding the heel of his palm into his temple. His skull is still pounding. “Everything’s all… Coming back in a jumble. Giving me a fucking headache,” he says, though as he speaks, he realizes he’s able to focus fairly well on the conversation, drowning out the more intrusive ambient sounds. “Keep talking.”

You look surprised by his demand, but after a beat, you oblige. After maybe an hour of idle conversation, he learns your name, that you work from home, you like decorating for Christmas even when you spend it alone, and that you've lived a thoroughly dull, ordinary little life until this very moment.

That’s just what you’ve told him.

From his personal observations, he's learned that you’re a perpetual fidgeter, that you touch your face when you're nervous, and that you would rather laugh than take any of his disparaging remarks about your mundane life to heart.

"I think it's lucky for you that I’m so boring. I might not have been here otherwise," you counter. Your smile is so inexplicably charming–nose wrinkled like you’ve somehow pulled a fast one on him–that Homelander forgets to refute your point. Instead, much to your alarm, he sits up.

"Oh, steady! Are you sure you're okay?" You ask, standing as he does, hands out as if to catch him. He stretches his hands out in front of him, and then curls his arms back in. Exhaling, his eyes flare crimson. He likes the way it makes your heart jump when he looks at you through the red glow.

His lips quirk, lasers fading out. "Good as new," he says confidently, though the aches of his fall still linger in his joints. Not quite new. He takes a few long strides across your living room, pausing in the doorway to your kitchen, where he can see through to your yard, and the absolute crater he left in it. "Vought will... take care of that," he says, gesturing vaguely to the destruction.

You can't help but laugh, crossing your arms loosely to survey the damage with him. "I appreciate it, but really, I'm just glad you're alright," you say honestly, staring out into the wreckage of your yard.

Homelander purses his lips slightly, glancing at you from his peripheral. Above him, he feels something brush the top of his head. When he glances up, what he sees hanging in the doorway makes him smile deviously.

Without warning, he puts his hands on your waist and spins you to him, lips landing warm and firm on yours. He absolutely devours the surprised little noise you make against him, halfway tempted to see what other sounds he can wring from you.

Your heart quickens to a race in his ears, and much to his delight, you kiss him back. You even surprise him by grabbing the back of his head with both hands, deepening the kiss of your own volition.

Not one to be out done, he adjusts his hold on you, one arm wrapping properly around your waist while the other slides up to cup the back of your neck, gloved fingers gently squeezing your bare skin.

To his delight, you retaliate with your tongue, slipping it between his lips and coaxing his forth.

Just full of surprises, little mouse.

Maybe you aren't so boring after all.

He meets you eagerly, exhaling a rough, excited little huff through his nose, dropping the hand at your waist to grab a cheeky squeeze full of your ass, wringing a soft moan from you that sends a bolt of heat straight to his cock.

When Homelander pulls back, you're flushed warmly all over. You smell of antiseptic wipes and peppermint, like Christmas in a hospital. It’s bizarrely appealing.

"What was that?" You ask, dazed.

"Mistletoe," he purrs, tipping his head back without taking his eyes off you, settling his hands back on your waist.

You look up slowly–taking a solid few seconds to process–and huff a gentle little laugh, nodding at the aforementioned ornament dangling above you.

"Is this your way of saying thank you?" You manage to ask after swallowing back the lump in your throat, your shoulders relaxing, though your heart continues to gallop in your chest. "I hope you're still going to pay for my yard."

It's Homelander's turn to laugh. "Oh, no. I haven't even begun to say thank you yet," he assures you, hands lingering on your hips.

The kiss had been pure unrestricted impulse, nothing he intended to follow through on. However, now that you're toying with the hair at the nape of his neck, your skin warm against his, your eyes half lidded, he’s not sure that he wants to let you go. Your lips shine where you’ve licked the taste of his from them.

“I think for your good deeds, you’re owed a very merry Christmas,” he says, waggling his brows.

You give a flustered, incredulous bark of laughter, covering your mouth as you look away from him, that flush of yours intensifying, making your whole body thrum warmly. You wouldn’t need to worry about keeping warm on these cold winter nights if he had his way with you.

“Okay, well, uhm, thank you for… for that thought,” you say, tripping over your words in a way you haven’t this entire encounter. “You hit your head pretty hard, though so maybe before you make any promises, we make sure you get checked out by an actual doctor,” you say, pushing lightly against his chest.

He maintains his hold for just a second longer, utterly immovable. It feels good to be himself again. He runs his tongue along his teeth, downright predatory in the way he stares down at you, but he does relinquish his hold.

“You should come with me to the tower. You know, now that you’re… Compromised,” he says, folding his hands behind his back. “Someone might come looking for me here. Interrogate you on my condition.”

Real fear flashes in your eyes at that. “Wait, you’re serious?”

“As a heart attack,” he gives back gravely.

“Uh… Okay. Uhm, let me… I’ll pack a bag,” you say nervously, stepping away from him to do just that.

“Okie-dokie,” he gives back simply, glancing around your home while he waits. He picks up an odd little gnome with a big red hat that covers everything but a little button nose, and a long white beard. Maybe he’ll convince you to bring along some of your festive decorations.

Merry Christmas to me, he thinks, already daydreaming about twisting the head off of whoever hit him with some kind of neutralizing agent.

He might thank them for the impromptu date while he’s at it.

#homelander x reader #homelander x you #depowered homelander #i was originally just going to edit the original post but #i couldn't add a title to it that way #so have a brand new post lol #i never posted this one to ao3 because i always meant to do this #so i'll cross-post this later #also i think i want this to serve as the foundation for my depowered HL verse #especially that one where he's seemingly lost his powers for good #my writing #ho ho homelander #enjoy some wildly out of season christmas btw lol

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jinwoowoo · 8 months

Text

Flames

Male reader x Aespa Winter

Length: 5564 words

TW: smut

Perfection is a word you rarely use, if not, have not used it at all, believing that everything has its own flaws and weaknesses. It is almost like a mantra of your life, an excuse to let every mistake in your life have a reason why it happens, but that stubborn way of thinking changed after you met Kim Minjeong.

Minjeong, who prefers to be called by her friends as Winter, has an exceptional beauty comparable to a fine winter morning. Her beautiful eyes shine like sparkling snow reflecting the sunshine. Her nose is so small it looks like a fawn resting peacefully inside its hole, protected against the layer of the cold snow. Most of all, her cold glare and attitude against strangers fit her name, that's why they wonder how a tacky, not-so-cool-looking guy like you managed to melt her ice-cold heart.

Though you see Minjeong as a perfection, a pearl among a sea of pebbles, she sees herself differently. She loves how you cherish and worship her like a lover, respecting her for who and what she is, but she still can't help but compare herself to others. Society has this image of what they define as a sexy, alluring woman; marvelous bust, tiny waist, and round hips. Minjeong fits on all of it except the first category.

Even if she has a smaller, sexier hip and waist compared to other women in her same frame, Minjeong’s breasts are too small to be considered a woman’s. Because of her tight, teenager-like body, Minjeong has frequently become a target of malicious unwitty slanders on Instagram; that a chopping board has more curves than her breasts and kissing them will let you know what kissing a man’s chest feels like.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” you ask Minjeong during your cozy cuddle, sensing her sudden gloom as you spoon her on the couch. Today is one of the rare days when both of you are out of work. Every time you two are free, Minjeong invites herself over to your house to hang out, sometimes arranging a dinner date in advance to enjoy sweet moments together.

“Oh, it is nothing, oppa. Don’t worry about it.” Minjeong replies, dispirited.

You take a peek over Minjeong’s shoulder to see what she’s been doing, and you witness something that breaks your heart. Hands trembling as she tries to control both anger and sadness breaking her heart, Minjeong scrolls through her latest Instagram post, reporting every malicious comment about her.

Minjeong senses the fiery anger fuming out of your nose touching her skin, scrolling downward to refresh the app quickly. She knows and is aware of what you have done to help her against her haters, reporting and filing cases against some of them, and she doesn’t want to bring this more in front of you, more than today you two are supposed to be chilling out and getting cozy.

You reach over Minjeong’s body and shut her phone screen off. Setting her device on the coffee table in front of her, you hold your girlfriend by her shoulders, spinning her body to face you.

Meeting you eye to eye, Minjeong cannot suppress her feelings anymore. She breaks down, wailing against your chest heavily. Your blood boils in an instant, filled with rage as you see a fragile kind girl like Minjeong crying and hurting over some trolls behind their monitor who doesn't care how much they hurt the person they are criticizing. Your fists clench until your knuckles turn white. You want to punch someone, you truly are, but you suppress your anger as Minjeong needs you right now. Grabbing some tissues on the coffee table, you wipe Minjeong’s tears, rubbing her back to calm her down.

“Oppa… Do I look hideous?” Minjeong asks while sobbing, stifling between her words.

“Of course, not! Why are you asking that? You are the prettiest girl I have ever seen, Minjeong. The most beautiful woman I fell in and will love forever”

“But the comments on my Instagram account. They said I look ugly. Maybe I-"

As you don’t want to hear Minjeong doubt herself and assure her she isn't as ugly, you lean forward and shut her lips with a kiss. Minjeong gasps, startled by the sudden kiss. Her hands grasp your shirt, toes are curling when you deepen the kiss.

“You are not ugly, Minjeong. People who call you ugly don't know the real definition of beauty, let alone know you personally. Please don't doubt about your looks." Patting her head, Minjeong slowly nods her head, now blushing and burying her face on your chest again for a different reason.

Feeling Minjeong relaxing, your chest feels a lot lighter now. You hold her chin with your thumb and index finger, lifting her head to face you again. With eyes sparkling like stars, lips quivering as they touch, puckering and parting away, it is Minjeong’s turn to catch you off guard, leaning forward and surprise you with a kiss.

You kiss her back and up the notch, licking her lips for an entrance that she didn’t hesitate to provide. The simple soft soothing kiss to calm down Minjeong slowly turned into a making out, her hands wrapping around your neck to pull you on a deeper kiss. The sound of your lips smooching and smacking, followed by soft groans and wet sucking of each other’s tongues broke the silence of the quiet morning.

Your body heats up in excitement, and you can feel Minjeong feel the same when your hand slides under her shirt, rubbing the skin of her back. Her legs are rubbing against each other, seldomly hitting your leg with her knee as the heat reaches her core. Getting needy as she is, your other hand reached for Minjeong’s top leg, lifting it so you can slide in your thigh between her legs. Your girlfriend slowly slides her crotch on your thigh, her body grinding against your torso.

Minjeong is having the best feeling of her life completely forgotten the malicious comments about her on her Instagram, now that the one that truly cares for her worships and loves her back. She grabs the hem of your shirt, tugging and begging for you to take them off. You smirk between the kiss and pull away, staring at your girlfriend's eyes who's aroused right now.

“W-why, oppa?” she asks, stuttering as her lips quiver, already missing the taste of your lips. “Why did you stop?”

“Because this isn’t the place to treat you with love, my princess. Let’s go back to our love nest.” Smiling, almost a smirk, you answer Minjeong with a wink.

Minjeong was still flabbergasted when you rolled and stood out of the couch. She yelps when you scoop her body, easily lifting her body and carrying her to the bedroom. Slowly, you put Minjeong down on the bed, letting her sit on the edge as you take your shirt and pants off, leaving you in your boxer. Putting your hand over Minjeong’s shoulder, you gently push her down until she's lying on her back, you hovering on top of her. Your hand that holds her shoulder now reaches upward to cup her cheek, the other rests beside her head to keep your body supported.

“You are so beautiful, Minjeong. I can’t help myself but fall for you even more.” You told her the sweetest yet sexily as you could.

“Hmph. Flatterer.” Minjeong huffs, looking away from your melting gaze.

You chuckle and hold your girlfriend by her cheek, turning her head to face you. Her blushing cheeks and welling eyes are the most adorable you have seen, a stare hitting your heart directly and calling out for your love. Losing your control already, you dived in and captured Minjeong’s lips with yours, continuing the making out you two hadn't finished on the couch.

Minjeong gasps, feeling the fiery heat of your love surging in the kiss. Her hands reach forward and rest on your chest, but you immediately take them on each of your hands and pin them beside her head. Her fingers entangle with yours, nails digging on your skin as your hungry wet kisses trail down from her lips down to her jawline.

“O-oppa~ mhhh~” Minjeong groans a throaty moan, fueling your lust further.

You don’t stop kissing her neck until you leave hickeys all over her soft skin, marking her as yours. You keep going further south until you face the hem of her shirt, quickly biting on the fabric and pulling it up to her chest using your teeth to reveal her sexy tummy. With no hesitation, you dwell down, and French kisses her belly button, tongue sweeping the sweet tiny hole.

Minjeong groans from the sudden surge of pleasure, her hands slip out of your hold and immediately grabs the pillow sheets above her head. She didn’t have the chance to process the delectation she feels as you raise her shirt higher, taking her bra up along the way to expose her perky boobs.

The tingling feeling suppressed Minjeong’s urge to hold her moan as your fingers played with her nipples, trapping each inverted nub between your ring and middle finger while the rest pressed and played against her teats.

Squirming hard and lively underneath you, the way Minjeong’s body moves shakes the cage of the wolf inside you. You want to be an unleashed beast, to become feral and feast on the poor gentle fawn beneath you, but you always remind yourself that you must take care of Minjeong’s needs first.

You stop kissing your girlfriend’s sexy midriff and capture one of her teats in your mouth, suckling on it with your tongue rolling on the hardened bean. The sweet taste of her perfect size boobs fills your buds, your glands activating to salivate and savor every flavor you could get. Your free hand roams on the side of her body, tracing the outline of her slim alluring waist until it goes down to her pubic, reaching down to discover her heating core.

Minjeong closes her legs in a snap, trapping your hand to stop your advancement but you still prevail and push her soaked panty aside. Your digits are immediately coated with her slick juice that she squirts after you sucked her breast a bit harder. Wasting no time, you plunge your middle finger inside Minjeong, sliding in and out leisurely while using your thumb and pinky finger to spread her thighs apart.

“Oppa~ ahh~ more please~” Minjeong pants heavily, her neediness shown in every word.

“More of what, Mindeongie? You should tell oppa more clearly” you tease, earning you an unsatisfied grunt from your cute girlfriend.

“P-put more inside me, please~ I need yo-mhhhp! ~" You abrupt Minjeong’s words mid-sentence by putting your index and ring fingers in,

Minjeong’s back arches, pushing forward against your chest as your additional fingers inside her descend deeper into her dripping cavern, each thick digit curling and pressing hard against her warm walls. Her love honey squirts out, wetting the back of your hand as it keeps pumping her.

You stop devouring your girlfriend’s boobs to watch her squirm in pleasure. Her eyes are shut tight, lips parted with tongue sticking out, trying to elicit a moan but can't as she finds herself choking on pleasure.

As you keep giving Minjeong the care she needs, your fingers feel a sudden tightness around them; your hand is soaked and dripping. Her moans are getting high-pitched, breathing turns erratic as she trashes her head around. Knowing that she is already at her limit, you decide to level up your game. You lay down beside Minjeong and tuck her hair behind her ear, blowing hot moist air on her neck.

“Don’t’ hold it, Mindeongie. Oppa wants to feel his baby squirt~” you whisper in Minjeong’s ears, stimulating her mind just as you do her body.

“No! ~ Nghh ~ You are so unfair, oppa~” she wince, still fighting her urge not to cum

Growing impatient, you pump your fingers harder, intentionally making loud, lewd. and wet noises. You then whisper in Minjeong’s ears how much naughty she is for being so wet right now, that her little coochie makes not-so-innocent sounds. You position the base of your palm above her slit, finding her swollen clit effortlessly, and rub it in circles.

Minjeong feels her defense crumbling, slowly succumbing to the pleasure and urge to climax. Having you near her neck, sucking her pulse point, and licking the back of her ear doesn't help either. With a suppressed squeal, each muscle of her body tensing, Minjeong finally let go and orgasms hard against your hand. Her pussy clamps vice around your fingers, thighs trapping your arm as her warm juice floods your hand. Her breathing hitches for a while, mind shuts down due to overstimulation.

“Oppa… I really hate you… You perv…” she pants between her words, eyes still trying to focus.

“Awww~ I love you too, Minjeongie. But I’m sorry. Oppa is still not done with you yet.”

You pat Minjeong’s head and give her a sweet peck before reaching for her clothes. Minjeong groans as she tries to move her tired body, helping the much as she can while you undress her. Now that she’s fully naked, you remove your boxer from your hips, finally unleashing your penis that's been begging for Minjeong’s touch.

“Babe, can you help me with here please?” you beg cutely, earning a chuckle from your girlfriend.

You grab Minjeong’s small hand and wrap her fingers around your veiny shaft, forming a knuckle with a hole to slide your penis on. Minjeong giggles as you give her puppy eyes, which she always says doesn't suit you, yet always falls for it. She slowly moves her hand back and forward, stroking your penis delicately while pulling it closer to her at the same time. You just follow her tugs until you are kneeling beside her head, your bulbous glans reaching close to her face.

“Do I have to suck it? It looks dirty" Minjeong teases, making you pout. "I’m just kidding, babe. Kneel in front of me"

You follow Minjeong's command and straddle her chest, hips hovering above her so you won’t crush her body with your weight. Your girlfriend smirks and parts her lips, attempting to catch and put your dick inside her mouth without the help of her hands. Her futile attempts only cause your dick to grind all over her beauty. Sometimes you make your dick twitch once it aligns with her lips so she has to try capturing it again.

Annoyed and needy, Minjeong surrenders to putting your dick into her mouth using only her lips and finally uses both hands, stroking it hard and rough as a little petty revenge for your teasing, before putting it inside her mouth.

The pleasure your cute girlfriend's small lips give makes you groan sexily. Her soft yet rough tongue flicks on the slit of the tip, harvesting the oozing precum as if your glans is a tap that releases precious sap. You look down and watch Minjeong giggle while sucking your dick, not sure if she finds her actions funny or she’s enjoying having your dick in her mouth; nonetheless, she looks so cute and innocent.

Your hips thrust slowly, carefully fucking Minjeong’s mouth to the back of her throat. She hates it when she gags, complaining that your penis is too big for her throat. You once tried to teach your girlfriend how to deepthroat you, but her uvula immediately contracts and pushes your dick away, an unpleasant feeling for both of you.

Though you dream to have Minjeong suck your dick all day, that plan should be done next time. You retreat your hips, pulling your drool-lubed dick out of her wet lips. Minjeong tries to chase your dick back, looking like a puppy chasing for her treat, but she pouts at you when you rest your whole length on her face instead.

"Appetizer's over, baby~ time for the main course." You coo, putting your hand on Minjeong’s cheek where she grinds over it.

You go out of bed and position yourself in front of Minjeong. Slowly, you crawl your way up starting from her feet, kissing her soles and calves. You then fold her knees and point them to the ceiling, pushing her heels closer to her cute ass. Getting closer to her thighs, your girlfriend tries to kick her legs and straighten out of impulse, feeling ticklish as your tongue and warm breath touch her rosy skin.

You hold Minjeong’s legs firmly, spread them apart, and invite yourself to have a taste of her body. The juices she squirted still linger on her thighs, adding exquisite flavor to her soft skin. You purposely make loud and lewd licking sounds, telling Minjeong how much you enjoy her taste that words can’t convey.

Minjeong curses under her breath as she feels your warm breath teasing her shaven pussy. Her toned legs are trying to close but your body blocks her attempt. Even if you want to taste her more, you teased Minjeong enough and can’t contain your excitement any further.

You trail your perverted tongue from her sexy tummy up to her jawline, hastily capturing her lips and making out with her.

Minjeong’s body squirms underneath you. Her craves for your touch, the lingering feeling of your body against her skin that keeps her warm, are expressed by each slight movement of her body. Her hands slide from your shoulders down to your chest, and one continues to go south until she holds your dick and aims the head in front of her entrance.

You stop kissing Minjeong and look her in the eyes. Minjeong stares back, gulping hard when she feels your warm heavy breath blowing on her face, and nods slowly. She strokes your penis a few more times before pushing the head inside her, letting you do the rest.

“Fuck…” you and Minjeong moan lowly in unison.

Minjeong embraces your body tightly, gasping as you keep pushing and putting your whole penis inside her vagina. Her walls immediately contract around your dick, recognizing its owner and welcoming it with a warm hug. You move your hips slowly, allowing your girlfriend to adjust to your size.

Your leisurely slow pace continues, letting Minjeong enjoy the pleasure your dick gives her. She moans softly as you push in, grinding your dick against her sensitives, but whines adorably when you retreat your hips and pull some of your lengths out. Her fingers are digging into your skin, scratching and wounding up the old wounds she dealt on your back.

“Shit, baby… Why do you look so cute even while having sex?” you groan on Minjeong’s face.

With her eyes half-lid, welling up with cheeks reddened in a rosy hue, Minjeong’s lips parted as she pants, her red tongue sticking out and looking like a puppy. You release a raspy growl, feeling the lust residing deep inside you unleash.

With one arm wrapped around Minjeong’s shoulders, you pull your girl closer to your body, capturing her lips and harshly making out with her. Your thrust increases its pace, pistoning Minjeong’s slick pussy roughly.

Minjeong’s hug on you tightens, embracing her body to accept your wild relentless thrusts. Your sudden roughness sends her to her climax, cumming around your thick and have her juices splashing as your hips collide. Her moans and air in her lungs are being sucked by you, taking her breath away during her orgasm

Feeling her body being less active, her grip around your pussy tightens as she cums, you let Minjeong catch her breath for a while, unlatching your lips from hers and attacking her neck instead.

“Mhhh~ daddy slow down~” Minjeong whines thoughtlessly, gasping for air.

Minjeong’s words sink in both of your minds in a second, and you realize what she just called you. Lifting your head, eyes wide open out of shock but with lips curving upward while trying to suppress your laughter, you and Minjeong slowly turn your heads to look at each other, too sync that it is almost comical.

Mijeong’s whole face turns red, her ears fuming imaginary steam when she looks at your teasing gaze. Never once in the history of making love with you she calls you daddy, saying it was too cliché and hates being treated like a baby now that she’s an adult, yet here she is right now, uttering such an embarrassing word unknowingly in the middle of sex.

"What did you just call me, babe?" you ask with a chuckle, breaking the awkward silence between you and her.

“I-I didn’t say anything! It is just your imagination.” Minjeong huffs and turns her head, looking to her side to avoid your teasing gaze.

“Yes, you are. You just called me daddy,” you say back, “can you please call me daddy one more time?”

Taking her hands away from your back, Minjeong crosses her arms and huffs again. “I don’t want to! Hmph. I’m already done. I lost the mood.” Pouting, Minjeong puts her hands on your chest, trying to push you away

“Wait, wait! Okay fine. I’m sorry babe. I won’t insist on it anymore.”

Trying to bring her mood back, you pepper Minjeong with kisses, alternating between wet lewd kisses with ticklish ones. Her stern angry look crumbles easily with your ticklish lips, can’t resist when you are giving her puppy eyes and sincere care. You lean and peck her pouting lips, hand pats her now ruffled hair. Minjeong sighs and wraps her arms around your neck, keeping her eye contact with you.

“You promise? It was just a spur of the moment, okay? I don’t why I called you daddy. Don’t make me say it again, it is embarrassing” Minjeong explains softly, speaking with her lips open as tight as possible.

You nod and peck her lips, your forehead leaning against hers. “Of course, baby. I won’t insist you to call me daddy unless you want to”

The kiss to seal your promise turns into a messy making-out. Minjeong closes her eyes and kisses back, her fingers sliding against the frame of your broad shoulder. Your lips never left hers as you start moving your hips again, slowly picking up the pace with thoughts of not breaking her.

Your hand leaves her head to knead her boobs, pushing the supple flesh with the base of your palm. As Minjeong breaks the kiss to catch her breath, moaning in pleasure, you lower your kisses down to her neck and chest, capturing her unattended breast between the pair and suckling on her nipples.

Minjeong’s whiny moans feel like music to your ears, her body writhing and dancing to the symphony of making love. Her pussy is now slicker and easier to thrust in, walls are contracting around your shaft and massaging it. Wanting to feel you deeper inside her, Minjeong spreads her legs wider, her feet barely standing on their toes, almost leaving the drenched sheets.

The monotonous thrusting, though you enjoy being on top of your girlfriend and giving her the climaxes she needs, tires your body easily. You feel that your orgasm is near, but exhaustion slowly chases on you, and might even finish you first before you get your pent-up release. Noticing that your pace becomes sluggish, Minjeong smiles and leans closer, kissing your lips and wiping the sweat on your forehead.

“You look tired already, Daddy. Let Mindeongie ride you this time”

Minjeong’s words shock you especially when she spoke in a sweet cute voice and have the thought of her hating calling you daddy. She seizes the chance while you are flabbergasted and flips your bodies over, being the one on top this time. The sweet and caring Minjeong you know has changed, flipping her personality and now letting you be the receiving end.

Your girlfriend leans down and captures your lips with hers, sucking the air and soul out of your lungs and body during the kiss. Your hands instinctively reach for her waist to hug them, but she intercepts you midway and pins your hands on each side of your head. Just like how you do her, Minjeong kisses your jawline and neck, slowly positioning herself to sit upright with your dick impaling her pussy.

Moving her hips up and down, groaning as your whole shaft slides against her velvety walls in a new yet familiar way, Minjeong moves her body sexily on her desired state. Her eyes are half-lidded, pupils rolling to the back of her head, her cheeks flushed and drunk in pleasure, even drooling and biting her bottom lip to suppress her sultry moans; you are on a treat with Minjeong’s sexy show while she’s riding you.

Her grip on your hands is slowly getting weaker, allowing you to unpin your hands from the space beside your head. You place Minjeong’s hands over your shoulder, freeing yours so you can hold her by the waist.

After a few minutes of riding you, bouncing herself on your lap and having countless orgasms, Minjeong reaches her limit and falls on top of your body. You peck and kiss Minjeong’s forehead, combing her hair to the back of her head to thank her for a wonderful ride. Gaining bits of your strength back after Minjeong’s ride, you flip your bodies over, hovering on top of your girlfriend again and fucking her to chase your orgasm.

Minjeong whines and complains as she is still sensitive, triggering a cluster of orgasms that sends her nerves haywire. Her pussy holds and tightens around you, sucking your penis deeper as if it wants you to penetrate even her womb.

As the tightness in your groin grows stronger, breathing gets heavier with some blood on your brain sending down to the other head for additional backup, you lose your control over your lust and reach your peak, cumming hard inside Minjeong. Ropes and ropes of your semen shoot out of your penis, filling up Minjeong’s heated womb to the brim, even leaking some of it to the crevices of your connection.

After the intense orgasm, exhaustion hitting you like a truck sending you to a parallel universe, your dick grows sensitive and limp, slipping out of your girlfriend’s swollen gaping hole. You pull Minjeong and hug her tight, keeping her convulsing body to post orgasm warm in your embrace.

You roll to your side and snuggle her, burying her face to your chest. She once said that your heavy panting and warm breath blowing on her hair helps her to calm down, so you are doing your best to keep your bodies tangled together after sex. Gaining her senses back, nerves calming, Minjeong looks up from your chest, slapping your pecs playfully.

“You meanie… I told you to slow down…” Minjeong whines, looking like a child in your arms

“Sorry, babe. You are just irresistible”

Mustering the rest of your strength, you pull Minjeong to the side of the bed, wrapping her with the dirty sheets and carry her to the bathroom princess style. She complains a bit, worried that you might turn her into a cute “sushi roll” by fucking her while she’s wrapped up like a sushi, but you promise that you just want to clean her up.

You unwrap Minjeong and let the warm water soak her body, sweat, and other bodily fluids being washed away while the heat of the water calms her muscles down. You go back to the bedroom and clean up all the mess, wiping fluids from the floor and airing the scent of sex out. After cleaning and changing the sheets, you went back to Minjeong and saw her staring at the bathroom mirror.

“What’s wrong, Minjeong? You seem to be deep in your thoughts." Hugging her from behind, you kiss her shoulder and ask.

“Nothing is wrong, oppa.” Minjeong shakes her head, but she knows you are not convinced by mere words. Sighing dispirited, she turns around and faces you, putting her hands on your waist. “I’m just thinking of some things. May I ask you something, oppa?”

“Of course, Minjeong. I am your boyfriend; you are free to share your thoughts with me if they bother you.”

You hug and carry Minjeong by her butt, where she instantly wraps her legs around your waist and brings her back to the shower. It became your habit to keep a small plastic stool on the shower for moments like this, letting Minjeong sit on the small chair while you lather her body with soapy water.

“Do I bore you? Most guys prefer busty women with nice hips and tiny waists, but here I am, chest flatter than a teenager” Minjeong rants while behaving like a puppy getting bathed by her owner

“Most guys just admire something big, Minjeong. Others love big butts, some love huge breasts because they look like their mom’s when they were being nurtured,” you answer, making Minjeong tilt her head back and look at you. “But that doesn’t mean all guys are the same. I love you, Minjeong, everything about you. I don't love you for your looks alone. You just came to my boring life and made everything perfect. And I want to be like that to yours. I will do everything that will make you happy. So Minjeong, will-”

“Stop being cheesy, idiot. Don’t say something like a marriage proposal while we are in the showers.” Minjeong hushes you quickly, blushing and turning small right after.

You chuckle and raise your hands, retreating and stopping being flirty with Minjeong. You pool a huge amount of water on the basin and rinse your girlfriend in an instant. After cleaning yourself up and drying up your body with Minjeong, you carry her back to the bedroom and tuck her under the newly replaced sheets, cuddling her in a spooning position.

“You still didn’t answer my question, oppa. Do I bore you?” Minjeong asks once more while scrolling through her Instagram feed.

“Me? Getting bored of you? Of course not. You turn everything around me exciting and I even feel sad that we have to sleep than having fun together.” You cheekily reply.

“Gosh… stop being cheesy. You know how hard I fall for your corny antics. But no jokes, oppa, Do I bore you?” Minjeong asks for the third tike

“Never, Minjeong. I sincerely don’t find you boring. Why do you ask though?”

Minjeong smiles excitedly and scrolls more through her feed until she finds one of her close friend's accounts. She taps on the username to view the full profile, along with some of her pinned posts.

“This is my friend, Jimin, but I sometimes call her Karina. She has beautiful breasts and a plump ass. I was wondering if you would agree to have a threesome with us." Minjeong explains excitedly, keeping her finger on her phone to scroll and show more of her friend’s photos.

The girl in the subject is indeed one hell of a beauty. Her boobs are enormous and a bit saggy, bouncing on even slight movement she does. She has a taut midriff and defined abs as well, lean arms and toned thighs that tell you she works out a lot. You are a bit concerned though as her face looks like a video game character, that she might be using some filters to hide her real beauty. Nonetheless, your mind goes back to Minjeong’s words.

"A threesome? Where did that thought come from? I didn't know you were up to something kinky."

"D-don't call me kinky! I'm just feeling guilty that I can't give you much of what other men feel during sex time with their partner. Karina unnie is bi and has experience in handling both genders on the same bed, so I was wondering if we could bring her to a threesome the next time we have sex."

Minjeong’s explanation gave you a sudden spurt of lust, turning you on in an instant. "Okay we will do it, but I want you to be the mediator over us. If you feel jealous or insecure, we will stop immediately after that."

Minjeong nods fast and with excitement. The thought of a threesome never came to your mind as you are contented with Minjeong, but right now, your heart won’t stop beating fast knowing that two best friends are willing to share the same bed and get naughty with you. Your dick got hard immediately after imagining them moaning your name. Out of instinct, more of a habit, you hold Minjeong by her waist and push back inside her pussy, flipping your body over until she’s on her stomach while you are on top of her.

“Eh?! I thought you were already tired, oppa” Minjeong gasps as she feels you penetrating her again.

“I know, baby. I know… Just one more time, please?”

You hug Minjeong’s body, trapping her arms along with your embrace and start fucking her like a rabbit in heat. Little did you know, this is just the start of a new chapter of your love story with Minjeong, where the smoldering heat of love your girlfriend provides to you will grow stronger, melding with the scorching, roaring fire her best friend will bring to your life.

#kpop smut #aespa winter #gg smut

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stillnotyourmusebitch · 5 months

Text

Ain't nothing but a shower scene - Hellboy x Afab!Reader

I am reposting my old hellboy fics on tumblr again.

(These are from my old account)

I had to admit that HB truly had the best shower in the whole of the Colorado B.P.R.D. headquarters. So, when I get the chance to make use of these facilities, you know I will.

But sadly, due to the sheer amount of bloody research I have had to complete over the past eight days, I haven’t been able to see very much of or be anywhere near Hellboy. If it wasn’t for Alice insisting, I really need to take a break and that it wasn’t normal to go so long without sleep, food or the basics of hygiene.

Normally I would flip her off, then go back to my work. Drinking my umpteenth coffee of the day, but I hate to admit it the kid was right. Gods, I could actually smell myself. That is never a good sign.

Marking my place in the old dusty tome I was halfway through reading/translating. I scrape the chair backwards unceremoniously loud along the floor to let people near me know I was in fact leaving the much-needed research table and if anyone messes with my organisation system in my absence, I will ruin them.

Upon standing for longer than needed to walk to the coffee machine and back. Only then did I realise how dog gone tired I really was. Taking my time I slowly and carefully make my way through the facilities many winding corridors. Trying my hardest not to bump into other agents or the walls, until I arrive at Hellboy’s quarters. At the first glance I can see he isn’t there which is both a blessing and a little disappointing.

Yes, I do get the shower and bed to myself for the time being but that also means I missed out on seeing him. We have really become good, close friends.

Now you are probably wondering why I have been mentioning HB a lot. Well that is simple we have been sharing his room ever since a certain someone magically managed to punch a massive hole through my exterior wall and out into the cold mountain air. He claims to have been swatting a fly. Not that there were any in my room at the time. But there was still no need to punch a massive three feet wide hole in my wall with his stone hand at that.

So I am now staying with him for however long it takes to patch the damage up. He insisted on sharing with me as an apology. It’s been over three weeks now and there was still a gaping hole in my quarters wall. I ain’t complaining tho. Hellboy really did have the best rooms in the facility and I’m damn well sure gonna make use of them. Since I had the place to myself I start stripping out of my uniform until I was stark naked and fiddling with the nobs and handles to try and get the water running in the oversized shower exactly how I preferred, amping up the heat to scolding levels that I find great comfort in. Maybe it is because it steams up the entire bathroom area nicely to the point I feel like I’m in a warm, safe cocooned state.

The multiple water jets pummel at my aching back and shoulders. I groan out at the blissfully sensation of my body finally unwinding and relaxing. Oh how I have needed this time to gain back my spark. I grab the bottle body wash that smells just like him. A calming fig and leather scent. I work up the lather in my hands then tackle the layers of dried on sweat and dirt I have accumulated over the past 8 days. Somewhere in between cleaning myself and the warmth of the water. I found that it managed to amplify the scent of the body wash. To the point it felt like he was right there with me. Meer inches behind me.

Maybe I let my imagination get away from me but it was as if his unique stone hand was scratching lazily down my hip. I try to lean back into what would have been his chest only to meet thin air.

“Shit.” I mutter to myself. This is not the time or the place to be thinking such things. Scrubbing the hot water over my face to try and clear my perverted mind of thoughts that were just that. Thoughts.

It isn’t that I don’t find him handsome. Oh I really did I mean that guy can charm the pants off anyone given the chance but we were only friends and nothing more.

“No, get outta your head. Finish your shower and have a damned nap, then back to work you go.” I spoke firmly to myself as I shut off the water.

I left the bathroom grabbing a clean towel and throwing it over my head to begin drying my hair as I wander back into the main part of the bedroom.

Someone clears their throat. I rip the towel off my head to see Hellboy stood there staring at me. His eyes are roaming all the skin available to him and it takes me a second to click I am stood there completely starkers. I try to cover myself but at this point what is the use. He has seen all of me now. I sigh.

“When did you get back?” I try and break the awkward silence as I continue to towel dry my hair.

His duffel bag drops with a thud to bring him back to the question I just asked him.

“Urm, just got back from a mission. Was gonna come looking for you actually.” He was clearly unsure if he was to look away or stare.

“Well you found me Red.” I say as I bend to dry my legs. “What do you want?” I ask casually, unsure where this confidence in my body has come from.

“You.” He breathed out the word in a contented sigh and a goofy smile on his lips.

I definitely heard him correctly trying to hide a creeping smile tugging at the corner of my lips. I stood back up to my full height taking the small grey towel away from my legs and dropped into on the floor.

“I didn’t quite hear that. I must still have water in my ears.”

His gaze drops to the floor

“Well.” I take a step closer to him. “You have me.”

His golden eyes flick up back to mine to see if there was any hint of hesitation or a cruel prank.

“Do I?” His voice low in a sort of warning that if I was messing with him I needed to stop now.

I kept moving slowly closer to him. The warmth of his body begins to radiate into mine from a couple feet away. He could see I wasn’t playing with him and that I really did want this. Whatever this moment was that clung in the warm air left behind by my shower.

As I got close enough to feel his body against mine I turn as take his right hand in mine and pacing it over my hip in the way I imagined only minutes before I had turned the water off. He is hesitant in his touch as all he knows is how to break and destroy with this hand but I want to show him the things he was clearly missing out on.

“You know you do.” Saying these simple words seemed to break the dam in both of us. His left arm winds around me stomach pulling me flush against his chest. His right hand caressing my hip and upper thigh. The contrast of his flesh hand and the stone one is magical. All the while his mouth descends upon my exposed throat kissing and suckling at the flesh marking my skin not that I cared. I grind back against him causing him to break contact and spin me to face him dead on.

“You’re playing with fire (Y/n). Are you sure you want this?” I can see a flicker of concern in his features. His golden eyes are purely molten with lust.

“More than you know big guy. I’m not afraid to get burned.” I scratch my nails down his firm pectorals.

His left hand cradles the back of my neck bringing me in for a kiss that could wake a million princesses, princes, kings, queens. Hell a whole kingdom from a cursed sleep. His lips are so intoxicating and I can’t get enough of him. I leap up as we break for air. His strong arms catch under my thighs and we go back to kissing like the world is going to end. It is bound to happen one day but right now all I need is him. I push at his large brown coat to try and remove the infuriating item of clothing to give me more of him to explore.

Hellboy can feel me pushing at the jacket. Seeing no other way to remove it with me in his arms. He moves us both to the nearest divider wall in his room and pins my body there with the weight and strength of his hips holding me in place as we break apart to gasp in lungful’s of air. I’m sure our lip look kiss swollen from such a fiery kiss that has become one of the best make out sessions I have ever had. He tears away the jacket, letting it drop to the ground, his hands go to my chest and thumbs swiping at my hardening nipples.

I’m chanting in my mind for him to use that mouth on them. He leans back slightly before slamming his hands either side of my head.

“We can stop now if you want. I don’t want to overstep.” I see the genuine concern on his beautiful face.

“I want this Red. I need you.” I rest my forehead against his.

“I could sure get used to this.” He smirks to himself.

“So could I. but unless you fucking touch me I will implode and take the entirety of the mountainside with me..” I grind down on his member that was tenting so wonderfully in his dark trousers.

It was my turn to get him panting beneath me.

“(Y/n), baby. I am trying to have some restraint here as not to hurt you . . . “

“I’m no China doll. You won’t break me. Remember I have advanced genetic healing, anyway I want you to mark me. Let everyone know who it is I belong to.” I say as I stretch my arms up above my head to grasp either side of the thin divider wall and use my legs to pull him back firmly against me possessively.

Hellboy is mulling over my words with a hooded gaze. His left hand grasps my throat squeezing it generously. “Is that right? You belong to me and only me now. You are mine.” His words are almost a low growl as he speaks he moves his lips closer and closer to mine. He speaks the last word with his lips grazing mine.

I mirror the word mine before he descends into another mind blowing kiss. I’m so engrossed in the sensation of our lips moving in perfect rhythm. That I don’t notice he has pried away his right hand from the slight indentation he left on the wall by my head, so he can unbuckle his belt and trousers in a swift movement, freeing his engorged cock to slap up against my ass. He hisses at the skin contact. I feel the stuttering in his hips. He really is trying to stay in control. When his left hand loosens on my throat I break the kiss to grasp that hand and bring the digits to my mouth and suck at them in earnest.

I moan around those fingers as I close my eyes and just being in the moment. I stay like this for as long as either of us could take. When I open my eyes, I pull away his fingers from my mouth with an emphasised pop sound. Then guide them in between our bodies till he feels just how much I truly need him. He easily inserts one digit into me gasping at the wet tightness that greets him. A second digit followed by a third in quick succession are enough to have me moaning his name in an almost scared prayer. He thrusts those fingers so well that the heel of his palm grinds down on my bundle of nerves that sparks lightning through my limbs and curls my toes.

“Ffffffuck (y/n) I’m not gonna last if you keep this up.” He is groaning from the way our bodies are so close to that final embrace we both need.

“Then take me Red. Fuck me and claim me as yours and only yours” I’m so close to falling over that blissful edge of completion when he withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his lips he sees the mess I have become.

“Oh (y/n) Is this all for me? It must be my birthday.” He exaggerates the last sentence by swiping the flat of his tongue up to gather the distinct flavour of my arousal. “Better than I imagined.” He cleans his fingers of my taste.

“Bed now.” I need this man to fuck me and or let me ride him. He chuckles at my enthusiasm but takes my ever so subtle hint to move to the oversized bed. Dropping onto the mattress Hellboy turns at the last moment so I’m straddling those thick muscular thighs of his. “Red, you gotta let me take care of you.”

I push his chest lightly till his back hit the plush covers. I manoeuvre so I am able strip him of trousers and help him kick off those clunky boots to free those cloven feet I rarely get to see.

Crawling up his chest slowly to make sure I still have his full attention, kissing here and there to see if I can hear those wondrous sounds.

“Baby, you’re killing me.” His hands move along my sides to my hips, giving them a firm squeeze. “Please I need more.”

I kiss him once more before positioning body so I can stroke his girthy cock in my palm. He bucks into my palm. I can tell he needs more. Mouth-watering ideas flash into my mind which I lock away for later use.

With is cock still in my palm I move so I can gather up the wetness pooling between my thighs.

“You ready big guy?” I lock eyes with him. He can only nod in agreement.

Slowly I guide him to my entrance. I push down till the head of his cock disappears inside me. I gasp at the feel of him stretching me so sinfully. Inch my inch I lower down onto him until I am completely seating on him.

I watch his face melt into that of awe. Here I am taking his cock so well. Clenching at the thickness of him.

“You okay there (y/n)?” He knows that he is well endowed and some people can’t take him completely the way I just have.

I experiment by rocking my hips gently. We moan out in unison. This urges me to move more and slightly faster.

Hellboy begins to rut up into me, I push down to meet him thrust for thrust. We work up into a pattern that transcends anything my simple fingers could live up to on those late nights alone in my room.

Our left hands interlock as we move as one. The room around us is filled with the wet slap of skin on skin, loud moans of each other’s name and the encouragement to go faster and harder.

“I’m so close Red. Please I need to. . .” I cry out.

“Cum for me (y/n). I got you.” His thrusts are becoming sloppy now. I know he is so close too. I lean forward to kiss him once more. This new angle is all I need to climax harder than anything in my entire life. A few more haphazard thrusts later and he spills inside of me.

I slump against his sweaty chest. Grinning from ear to ear which I know he is mirroring above me. We stay like this till we get our breath back. Shakily I climb off him and lay down by his side completely stated.

“Wow.” He turns his head to look at me. “Are you okay?”

“Mmm, yes I am now.” I try not to yawn but I know I will drift off soon after such a satisfying ‘workout’

He shift on the bed to go and grab something from the direction of the ensuite. He returns seconds later with a damp cool cloth. He takes care of me before climbing back on the bed to pull my against his chest.

“Sleep now. I got you.” I feel him lightly kiss my hairline before sleep takes me.

#jamie writes #my old fic #hellboy 2019 #hellboy imagine #hellboy x reader #reader insert #afab reader #b.p.r.d. imagine #b.p.r.d.#hellboy smut

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sopiao · 9 months

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can i request headcannons with the 141 and konig during a road trip? like a looong ass road-trip. nothing for a mission, just a little trip or vacation.

ooh i just got back from a 10 hour long road trip too!

(Callsign will be ‘Shark’)

Price would be the one driving, Soap in the front, Shark, Ghost, and Gaz in the middle row, while König gets the back all to himself. Sometimes it would cycle who would be in the front with Price since they all wanted to take turns sleep.

Since König is the big bitch he is, he gets the whole back row to himself. He can ‘shooonk’ and ‘mi mi mi mi mi’ all he wants. With his pillow and pink jaguar blanket someone lent him cause he forgot his (most likely Soap’s). While Shark is stuck in the middle, stuck between Ghost and Gaz.

—

Price would have first dibs on the aux since he’s the driver. He’d only play songs that no one knows. Y’know the classics and his personal faves. No one gave him the aux since.

Soap would play songs that he likes, regardless of what anyone else thinks. ‘Shut up and drive’ by Rihanna, ‘Talk dirty’ by Jason Derulo, ‘Treasure’ by Bruno Mars. Will literally blast the volume at his favorite parts.

Occasionally Ghost or Gaz would yell at him to shut up, his only response being to turn the music up even louder.

—

“I’ve got to go to the loo..” Soap asked. Price gripping the wheel and taking an audible and long breath in and out through the nose.

“We just left THE FUCKING STOP”

—

During stops to restock on gas stations snacks or fill up on gas Gaz would get drinks he never finishes, it just piles up in the back. Shark got a bag of chocolate marshmallows, they later played basketball with it, Ghost’s mouth being the hoop.

Price would 100% do the dad-snack-hand from the drivers seat. While König got a whole tub of ice cream to eat in the back, just because he felt like it.

Soap actually got left at a gas station once. The car ride back to get him was quite.

—

Shark’s gasp made everyone turn to attention since it was so quite and their gasp sounded so alarmed. Shark leapt across Gaz’s laps and looked out the window.

“Cow!” They pointed out towards the field of cows minding their business.

“Cow?

“Woooaaah”

“COW”

—

König gets motion sickness very easily. Which is why he spends 60% of the car ride sleeping. But the times where he is awake, half the time he’s throwing up in a paper bag. Ghost having to throw it out while Gaz and Soap try not to gag. Shark is rubbing him on the back and giving him water to feel better :).

—

Gaz would sleep against the car door, a pillow between him and the door, one leg would be across Ghost and Shark’s lap and the other would be on the middle console of the front. Sometimes Soap would have to nudge his dinosaur socks out of the way.

Ghost would claim he’s not tired at all, but is always the first one to fall asleep. Arms crossed and head back while he snores like a motor boat. First time this happened Price freaked out that he was dying, choking or something, and had Shark punch him in the chest.

He didn’t feel like sleeping after that.

Eventually when he does he’d be in the same position as Gaz, but both of his legs would be across Sharks and Gaz’s lap. Hitting the opposite door.

—

“Would you rather fight 100 toddlers or—” Shark asked of the first thing that came to mind.

“A hundred toddlers” Soap interrupted them, no hesitation.

“I didn’t even finish the question—”

“Those kids are getting CURB STOMPED”

“No—”

—

Going down a long path in the middle of the night. Practically in the middle of nowhere as the only thing keeping them company was yards of grass and mice that hid in little holes for the night. Everyone was fast asleep until they felt the car shift to a stop. They all immediately looked at each other after seeing where they were stopped.

“Let’s stretch our legs, been a while” Price explained, being the first to get out, turning the car off and the key out of the ignition. They were all still confused why they stopped suddenly, but they understood that hours of driving does no good for the legs.

Price made sure to turn the head lights off too. The rest of them thought that they’d just but in the middle of nowhere in the dark but they were frozen in amazement when they saw how bright the sky is, despite it being 12 midnight.

Without all the city lights and street lights to pollute the sky the night looked so bright. Stars that were barely visible, only a dot in the sky, were now shining and bright. In the city you could only see 6-7 stars 10 if your lucky, but right now it was like you could see till the end of the galaxy.

Not a word was spoken the entire time they were out. It was beautiful but also so surreal and bone chilling seeing how much space there is beyond this world. Every star a sun and every sun had at least 5 planets. There had to be at least one other life form.

Those 20 minutes were the most quiet but calming 20 minutes of the trip. Something they shared and saw together.

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honestsycrets · 10 months

Text

before anyone else I: the venerable [admiral!miguel o'hara x princess!reader]

❛ pairing | admiral!miguel o'hara x princess!reader

❛ type | one-shot, sfw (minor past suggestive themes)

❛ summary | once upon a time, miguel loved a princess. upon learning about her engagement to his father, King Stone, he's back with a plan in hand.

❛ tags | forced marriage, arranged marriage, historical period not defined, royal!au, admiral!miguel, princess!reader, mention of character death, elements of implied treason and betrayal, some angst, some fluff, annoyed miguel, lyla makes trouble, self edited, f!reader, persuasion inspired, a kiss, innocent!reader, Spanish is not translated, a kiss.

❛ sy's notes | no requests were fulfilled; filled to meet this poll.

An imperial boat docks. It waves in the water a little off-kilter, pulling to the right in all its glorious majesty. On the dock itself, the head of ground forces stood dressed in full regalia, all navy blue and white, the gold buttons glistening in the fresh morning light. Jess expected this day would one day come. The seamen shouted among one another on the ship until at last the crew outstretched a thick oak plank. Boots bounded down the strong wooden ramp leading from an imperial ship to the dock. The awaiting crowd was rough and rowdy, casting bellowing screams at the admiral and his crew.

“There he is!” Jess boomed, clapping her umber hands together.

They were freckled, with the frequency of her exposure to the sun. Today, her skin was shielded by a heavy coat. She abandoned the thing over her chair as she wrote letters, recommendations, and battle orders. But she preferred it when her poet shirt was thrown open, teaching the men and women in her charge.

Admiral Miguel O’Hara led the charge, passing by the lackeys throwing down trade goods from the belly of the boat. Compared to Jess, his clothing was rough, punctuated by his time at the sea. What use was there for a thick coat with the spray of sea spray daily? No, he stood in dark brown breeches and a thrown open poet-shirt, sodden with sea water, likely from dealing with whatever injury brought his ship back to this usually forgotten port.

He was glad to be back on the Spanish shore, if only it weren’t this shore and the many stairs he would have to brave to get to the castle while the engineers worked on the Venerable. Miguel loosened the sweat from his coarse locks, his shoulders bunched and ready for another fight. He came to a stop in front of Jess, exhaling deep, rage-filled breaths. Jess shifted back on her boot heel, a grimace on her countenance.

“That’s a pretty good hole. She’s taking on water quick. You hit something, Miguel?”

“Me? No, I don’t hit rocks.” Miguel snorted, casting a look over his shoulder to the woman that stood at his side. Lyla’s eyes averted, not quite saying anything and saying everything at the same time. Lyla obscured herself behind her thick honey-brown bob. “Someone was distracted with the king’s cask of Carribean rum.”

“Lyla?” Jess came up behind her, grasping her shoulders for emphasis. “No. Our Lyla couldn’t’ve done that number.”

“It was once! One in eight years.”

“Those... those changes you wrote me about. They have you on edge, paranoid. Let’s have a drink with the imperial guard. They have missed you.”

Miguel threw a hiss back at the two as he stormed up the stairs, bundling buttons of his dirty poet shirt to obscure the sight of his dark chest from onlookers, namely the sex-deprived women and men of the capital whose hungry eyes ogled his crew. He didn’t need a loon bothering him right now, not here, he might punch them into a permanent, instantaneous sleep.

“Oh, come, Miguel, these things happen. Look how sorry she is.” She says as if he cares. Jess rushed to catch up with him, the beads on the ends of her braids snatching and clicking. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply, his head heavy. He doesn’t have time for this.

“What she meant to do is as much irrelevant as it was irresponsible. If you’ll excuse me, Jess, I now have to prepare a new ship to set sail.”

“The king wants to see you. It’s about her,” she shouted. Miguel’s steps came to all but a grinding halt, his finger fingers flexing into a tight fist. His mouth was dry, and it wasn’t due to a lack of hydration but the mention of your name on Jess’s lips. She brought her hands to her hips, her hands on the golden embroidered loops. His face sagged, all irritation melding into something different, inscrutable. He threw her a look.

“Fine.”

But first-- he had to get this sea stank off of his skin.

“Admiral O’Hara! There is just the man I have been looking for. Come, come, let me pour you tea. No? No tea? Of course not, it seems I don’t remember the boy I used to know. You’re a man now. And one of decisive action! Coffee, yes? You are better suited to black coffee. Am I correct?”

Everyone thinks he is thirsty in this blasted place.

He didn’t belong here. He was, as he preferred to be, stuck at sea. The unforgiving sea required his attention lest his men befall a terrible end. He could handle that burden. He stood below a great sigil of a sea dragon whirling to chew its tail. Its hands secured a great many orbs in its sharp, jeweled talons. His eye tracked across the inside of the crest, turning over the word hopelessly on his tongue.

“Rum,” he answered caustically, his eye dropping from the great sigil before him to the jeweled sapphire and emeralds that were embedded in the floor. Between rows of sentinel were porcelain statues, their hands wrapped around blunt and aged swords, their fingers almost palpable on the artifacts that remained from times of old. The deep navy blue curtains and tapestries are detailed in ineffectual teal. He never cared for the other assortment of pots and jars that were so-called mythical artifacts and rolls of paper that would soon house the king’s poorly-made royal decrees.

“Aha! A good seaman and his alcohol,” the king minced his laughter. The noise aggravated him, the memory of the man’s words buzzing in the back of his head. Now he kissed up to him. How he’d fallen. He blinked up to the royal crest, then down to the aged king. His long, grey hair at the middle of his back reflected his many losses. Miguel turned his eyes back down to the king, eyes crinkling at the corners, taking a glimpse of him. His tone slipped. “It makes the time pass more tolerably, does it not?”

“It does.”

He pops open a glass bottle of rum, pouring it into a cup encrusted with more fine jewels. Miguel doesn’t drink.

"I suppose you want me to get to the point.”

That would be a nice change, yes. His eyes held modest deference, his heavy dark brown boots pacing toward a hearth in the middle of the king’s study. Wisps of vibrant blue fire threw embers into the air. He finds himself staring at a stained glass effigy of your mother. A woman who undoubtedly would have been ashamed of the husband that stood before him now.

“You recall my daughter,” How could he not? He released a small grunt, an acknowledgment of the king’s words. Mindful of his reaction, Miguel turned his hands over the hot air, plumes of warmth kissing his sun-worn cheeks. As the king spoke, the flickering flames warmed the slight ring on his thick fingers. “I’ve arranged her marriage to Lord Stone. An alliance of sorts.”

Miguel’s eyes go wide, aghast, staring into the blank flames. He grits his teeth together, the thin blade of his patience whittling down with every word from the king. He kills his face of the horrified, fleeting emotions that dappled his skin like obvious spots. He might have snapped a look at the king before his eyes calmed, trained to maintain the illusion of composure.

“How unfortunate.”

“King Stone?” around the corner, his second-in-command squeaked. He should have left her outside. Miguel brought his hand to cup his slight forehead, throwing her a warning look. “That old coot is still--”

“Lyla.”

“Yes, he is quite old, isn’t he? I was surprised when he asked for her hand in marriage, truly,” the king said tightly, born in annoyance. He has gone ashy, eyes desolate as he recounts the death of the prince, or perhaps his own. “I would have preferred an engagement to his son. I trust you heard about his assassination. It was a great surprise. A tragedy, indeed.”

“We have heard many things about it. I am surprised that you would agree to such an alliance after what he's done.”

It was impossible not to hear rumors in the ports he sailed through. Miguel did not only hold to royal ports but those that held slimy crowds of pirates and prostitutes. If he did not, he would never have the truth behind the many rumors that swirled through the air. Women in richer towns had time to spread rumors. Those suffering from poverty had no time for them. Their lives were ones of perpetual struggle. What use had they for the death of stupid princes?

“Feelings change.”

Did they really--

“Miguel. Truly, I understand your apprehension. But unless you have the magic to raise my dead sons from the grave, I have no choice.” The king sighed, beating his old knuckles on the game board. He’d sacrifice another child for his own safety-- the illusion of it. Coward. “I must know if I can I trust you with her transport.”

“She won’t last.” Miguel stared at him, breathing the words out, his frown darkening the rest of his features. “She is a balm to any battle-worn king, but Stone is not just old. He is dangerous. If you send her there, you will send her to her death.”

“His wives are well cared for,” your father argued mildly because it was not him who would face the rest of a lifetime with Stone. He brought a fist to his mouth and bit down upon it, a vestige of the man he used to be. “Perhaps your feelings for her cloud your judgement.”

“I can separate my feelings from my professional judgements, mi rey.”

“Yes. I suppose you can, admiral. How long has it been since you bore the responsibility of being the Head of Guards? Seven years?”

“Eight,” Miguel cropped, his hand shifting to the top of his pommel. “It has been eight years since I left the crown city.”

“Head of ground forces regulates my guard now. I find them lacking,” he grabbed Miguel’s cup of undrunk rum and threw it back, his tongue snapping against the roof of his tongue. He felt for the sentinel of guards in the room. “My soldiers, that is. If they had been stronger, perhaps my sons would still be alive.”

Be it like him to find fault in everyone but his own battle choices.

“But I am ever humbled by your selfless service, mi hijo,” he spoke mildly, “Please know it isn’t a decision I make lightly. I know my daughter. She would feel more secure if you were the one to take her to Stone.”

They were nice words from a soon-to-be puppet king. Miguel turned his gaze onward, locating Lyla by his side. Her small, scarred hands warmed themselves over the ancient blue flame. A surge of heat turned over in his stomach, punctured by a fear he hadn’t felt in a while. He steadied his voice.

“I would not be so certain.” Miguel wrinkled his forehead, throwing a look that looked almost off-kilter. After this many years, would it be easy to face you again? No, he decided. Not for this purpose. “Soft women are fickle to easy words.”

What of me?

Not you, Lyla. You’re not soft.

“If you do not want to, I can send her by way of Jess,” a long sigh slipped off the king’s lips. Then quiet, only broken by a clatter and Lyla’s frantic attempt to replace game pieces into their proper position. Miguel swayed to where she was, grabbing the head of a miniature oak knight and popping it into the proper position.

“For her sake, I will deliver her.”

Miguel said nothing more. He failed to wait for the king to dismiss him, perhaps out of confidence in their relationship, that this was not something he had to tread lightly around. Lyla rushed by his side, the wordless guards drawing the heavy doors open to the wide stone hallway before them.

“You cannot take her there,” Lyla spoke with a rigidity that Miguel admired, mindful of the volume of her words, only a whisper. “Your father is--”

“Yes, Lyla, I know very well.”

“Then what next?”

At the end of the hall, Miguel rushed down the steps, out of the king’s chambers, and into lush, almost stabilizing grass. Free of the constricting walls that he would have once called home, Miguel took in the fresh air, his hands behind his neck. To take you there meant certain death. To not take you there, well, he regarded both just as poorly. The fat roses bobbed on their pointy stems. Miguel expects to see you there, with your chambermaids, eating fruits on an Arab blanket.

“We take Jess up on her offer. She’ll be expecting me.”

“Miguel, the intent in horseback riding is that your ride the horse.”

“You know, on top,” Lyla jumps onto Jess’s sentence. “He hasn’t been on top of anything in years--”

“And break its back?” Miguel held the reins in his thick fist. The horse, a chunky mocha and white painted thing was a profit from his voyages overseas. Not only was it subjected to awful sea travel, but now to have a man of muscle on its back? With his newfound speed, it was a risk he did not need to take. “No. I have two feet. I can walk.”

Miguel was many things, but he wasn’t a monster. Or so he liked to think.

“I think you’re quite sweet, Admiral O'Hara.” Jess’s own guard, Gwen, spoke. She was a willowy thing, barely a sprout of a woman with a good heart. He could tell. Miguel looked down, opting for silence as he crunched down full blades of grass under his foot.

“Miguel doesn’t like compliments,” Lyla said.

He also didn’t like long, relaxing walks in the valley. Jess proposed something like drinking in her office. It would have been glorious-- but Lyla, whose recent binge nearly scuttled his ship, chose a good ol’fashioned horseback ride. Something that didn’t remind her of sitting on the patchwork doll that was the Venerable.

“The princess would marry someone she does not know?”

Dread filled Miguel’s stomach at the words, the truth in them half-cocked and wrong. He found no words on his tongue that could fit the weight of bitterness that he felt about the arranged marriage. Everyone knew, everyone but Gwen. She was a young thing.

“It’s not her choice,” Lyla spoke in your defense. “It’s her father’s.”

“Forced marriages are a thing of the past. They are not right. Has the princess ever even met Lord Stone?” Gwen asked.

In less than a week’s time, following the festival of roses, they would sail eastward. Or, so said the sailing plans he laid out for Jess. Who, for her part, looked away. Lyla and he exchanged a glance of mutual understanding. That was what he liked to call a sign.

“No, before their deaths, her brothers never would have allowed her travel to Alche. This whole alliance is a sham. We’re expected to deliver the princess in some false faith that he keeps this so-called alliance. He will not. I cannot decide if the king truly believes in this alliance or if he is hopeful he will remain as a ruler. In either case, it is foolish. Stone would murder his own legitimate heir and for what?”

Except they aren’t his words. Those words flowed freely from Jess’s lips.

“The king will fall.”

“Miguel. Those are treasonous—“

“Treasonous? He is incapable of governing.”

“The council helps him,” Jess says, but the words come out slanted. She convinces herself as much of the truth as him. Gwen’s lips close, looking down to the sword at her side, then back to Jess’s troubled eyes. Miguel had her where he wanted her. Where she wanted to be-- abandoning this foolish faith in a man who long since gave up hope on a strong, independent nation.

“A counsel of plants. Five of his sons have fallen. If this keeps up, we will fall next.”

Jess felt the words running bone-deep.

“You have a plan.”

He always did.

The deep night sky was a sea of twinkling stars. Oil lamps illuminated the solitary garden. Miguel fit his hands in balls on his hips, eyes flickering from the blades of grass to the long stems of lilies. He breathed softly, drawing in breaths that should have been relaxing, but morphed into something awful, some unfiltered fear of the failure of his plans.

“These are her gardens, aren’t they?”

“They are,” Miguel answered. “If nothing has changed, she cares for them herself and harvests them with the peasants. She’ll be here, tomorrow, for her last harvest as a princess.”

On one hand, overturning the king and his council could go seamlessly. He had Jess, that much was for certain. Gwen, who seemed to go with her bidding, held a good heart about the ethics of arranged marriage. She turned her nose up at it, the suggestion that you would be forced into a marriage with an old, cruel king. Lyla, his Lyla, held no apprehension to the plan. She treated him with deference, seeking only his happiness as his best friend.

Would this-- being king-- make him happy?

Miguel looked down. Soft pink roses, ripe and ready for the rose-picking festival. Your last, if things went to your father’s plan. He hadn’t thought about it: about how you might feel in the push for another engagement. Not one to an aged, cruel man-- but… he never thought to find you, to ask. He wasn’t sure he could stomach the rejection and yet still force you into a marriage with him.

It wasn’t that he wanted to-- but had to.

Miguel turned his hand into the suit vest across his chest, removing a bit of aged parchment with a broken wax seal. He turned his finger over the old ink. In every interaction I face, I long to spot you, hidden among the roses, the lilies, to be one of the heads of delighted harvesters. But you are not here. You are never here. I fear you never may be.

“Miggy,” Lyla said. “Miggy look.”

Miguel lifted his head to look at Lyla. She wasn’t looking at him, peering across the garden, somewhere Miguel couldn’t see from where he stood. He lifted his dark brown boots, stomping around the corner. His sharp red eyes were wide in shock, bags of exhaustion lifted by your sight. Had it-- really been eight years?

Panic works in tandem with longing. He could run for Jess’s chambers, crumple there like the very coward that ran this fastly crumbling kingdom. Face you another day. He couldn’t help but indulge himself in the gentle lilt of your voice, the way you rolled the ‘r’ on his last name, even though it was very much not an ‘r’ to be rolled.

“Is that you, Miguel O’Hara? ¿De verdad?”

No, Miguel thought. Not yet.

His mind was overwrought, more stimulation than he had in months of battling the sea. He could climb ropes, fix sails, fight pirates, throw out orders, and care for the ports. No issue. None. But as you stood there, looking finer than any treasure he ripped from the hands of the most experienced of pirates, he found himself unable to locate his practiced words.

You were meant to be his. To be by his side. Of that much, he was certain. Miguel folded the letter in his hand and tucked it back into his dark coat, exploring your gown. A light, white off-the-shoulder dress, embroidered in teal and ombre details, with the most beautiful seafoam bowed sash. You pulled at the rebozo over your long dripping sleeves, the jewels of your hairpieces tinking together as you moved, pulling up your skirts saucily over your ankle.

“Is it not the admiral?” your handmaiden whispered.

“I did not know he was back,” said the other.

“Please excuse us, girls. Lady Lyla, I would prefer a private audience with the admiral. If you would,”

“Of course! Of course, come, hurry up, you're slow--” Lyla did not need to be told twice. She made herself scarce, grabbing the mid-backs of the girls, forcing them up the steps and out of sight. Miguel dipped down to take a lantern that one of the girls had forgotten.

“Hola, mi amor,”

Miguel turned around, offering you his forearm. Your jeweled eyes fell on it. You took his broad arm with one hand, minding the train of your dress in the other. The pads of your fingers shifted along the muscle. It took a moment for him to register your curious touch. The increase in his muscle mass, particularly as of late, must have been jarring. His brows knit together, his eyes crinkling around the edges in a way that reflected his age by sea. You moved through your gardens. Miguel, your ever-patient servant, followed your lead.

At night time, your garden was impossibly beautiful. It was lined by bushels of healthy, salt-tolerant roses, cloaked in the secret of darkness. Miguel remembered the small pond as if it were yesterday, the secret place of his youth. Small bugs sang in the heaviness of your mutual silence, breaking with the pop of your lips.

“I saw you had a letter in your hands. From a woman, perhaps?”

He lifted his hand, offering the lack of a marriage band. No wife, not even a love on a distant shore. The memory of your kisses, your bodies strewn in bed, overrode any ability for him to find another woman. What happened to your eyes-- you began, reaching to touch him. He turned his face away. You were the first to notice. Or, perhaps, just unbothered by tethers of propriety.

“You are still unmarried? Then why did you never answer my letters?”

“What would you have me say, princesa?” Miguel’s words came at last. He hadn’t meant them to come out the way they did. A long, painful lament on his tongue, marked with barbs. “You chose your family over my proposal. Your rejection was quite clear.”

“You, above everyone else, should know it was not an easy choice. I could not have told them the truth.” You sat down on your stone bench, fixing your skirts. “You would have hung.”

“Yes... well. How funny is it that they are now dead,” he bit out. “While I stand here alive.”

Your eyes were bright, watery, bits of tears slipping down from the corners of your eyes, over pink blush at your cheeks. Shit, he hadn't meant to say that. A slow breath leaked from his mouth. You stood up, brushing the tears away with the flowing sleeves. It hurt to see your pain well to the surface.

“Miggy, I know you hate them, but please don’t talk ill of the dead. They did what they thought was best for our nation and nothing more.”

Right-- to secure the possibility of an alliance through an arranged marriage, how charitable of them. You stood before a bushel of roses, turning your eyes over the fat blooms as an excuse not to look at him. You poisoned your mind with the lies of your father and brothers. He turned you, lip trembling.

“What of what was best for you?” His hand found your cheek, rolling away the tears that spilled openly before those in the garden. The sentinel who watched, the flowers that grew in peace. You leaned into his touch, eyes closing at the comforting warmth that welled up in your chest. He was here, again. “That has always been the only thing that I am concerned with.”

“I know. My brothers couldn’t understand. They only understood politics.”

“What of your father? He knows how I feel.” Miguel said. The words were smooth and soft, gentle like the sill waters of your pond. “He may not know that I was your first--”

“Miggy,”

“Your virginity belongs to me. Stone cannot take it,” he punctuates the words. They seem to draw some ancient feelings loose, drawing back with your hand to your chest, cooling the heat that bubbled in your chest at the mere memory. His voice milded out, a smile warring at the corners of his lips. Eight years, and he knew you thought of that very warm summer’s night on the pavilion. "But your father would still allow you to live in misery."

You're not thinking of your father when Miguel speaks of such silly, youthful things. It's hurled into the past.

“You remember.” The tone in his voice pulled at a question, but he asked none. You tugged on your rebozo and turned away from Miguel once more, embarrassed. He couldn’t resist. His hands cupped your slight shoulders, rippled with goosebumps, though it was not a cold night out. His lips worked on your ears, kissing the delicate earrings that dripped from your earlobes. “The last day of the rose harvest.”

“Miggy, not here.”

“Your guards fell ill for their night shift. I took their place. You bathed in petals and perfumed your skin that night. I dare say, on purpose. You were so good for me.”

The memory must have made you clench, your blood runs warm, leaning into the soft kiss he set behind your ear, the scrape of his fang. Oh, stars, you cried.

“We should stop, my father--”

“Knows what love we have. Even if he is a spineless coward.”

“Have? Miggy?”

He held his chin level, swaying where he stood, seeking some acknowledgment that your feelings had not changed. For what seemed like the hundredth time that night, you faced him. In place of a response, silence was the best course of action. A grim smile worked on his face, his head pounding with the lack of alcohol, that little friend of his that had made these years pass so easily. You tugged him forward.

“You are mine?” you ask.

“I am yours. I am loyal to you before anyone else.”

To his surprise, you held out your hand, your fingers twiddling at him.

“Then prove your loyalty to me.” You hummed. “Give me that letter. I want it.”

“You can’t trust me, can you?” He sighed, slipping his hand into his coat pocket. Finally pulling it free, he unraveled it. Its crispy, flaked edges slipped from your fingertips. The royal seal glimmered in your eyes, wrought in sudden delight at your own handwriting.

“This is mine. And you’ve kept it so close to your heart this whole time? Oh, Miggy,”

“Don’t start,” Miguel took a step away, rubbing the frustration out of his forehead. Blood rushed to Miggy’s dark face. He should be so lucky that it was night, that the moon was not full, and that you would not weaponize it. You plucked up your skirts, daring a twirl, jewelry jingling, skirts whirling. His lips pulled in a smile at your delight, a party all on your own. Congratulations on your victory, he wanted to say, as if it hadn't resulted in years of endless longing.

“I knew it.”

“You did not,” Miguel bit out, kicking out his feet over the inky blades of glass. “You interrogated me regarding its source. Another woman when I have a princess? How asinine.”

“Oh, Miggy. If you write me a letter, just one,” you settled it back in his coat jacket. “I can be at peace with this marriage. I’ll close my eyes and think of you.”

His mind reeled at your words. He shot you a wan look, which you returned with a confused flicker of your long lashes, wondering what you said that was so wrong. Miguel looked toward the armed guards, men who-- in the day, he served with. He trusts them in a way that is unique to service under the crown-- to you.

“What sort of man do you take me for?” he bit out, his tone tapering dangerously low. “To think I would allow you to marry that man?”

“What choice do I--”

“You listen to your father regarding the oddest things. You would marry an archaic sack of shit but not the love of your life.”

“Oh,” breath punched from your chest, exhaled in a shaky breath. Your hand came to your chest, twiddling the jewelry at your chest. Miguel turned his head back to face yours, his scarlet eyes trained on yours. “I wasn’t aware of your offer.”

He couldn’t help it. Not anymore. The time at sea, eight years of suppressed pleasure through memories of your warmth, and the letters you sent all culminated in overcoming longing. He dipped down, his lips sliding against yours. He swept his tongue past your lips, drawing you closer with a stabilizing hand behind your back. He was many things, but never a coward, savoring the tender taste of fig and honey and you on your lips. You were as sweet as he remembered. His lips parted, words barely a puff.

“I don't believe I ever retracted it, Princesa.”

Yes, you say delightfully. He wonders if you'll still say yes after you learn of what he's done. He doesn't always like the decisions he has to make-- but they're for your good. One day, perhaps, you'll understand.

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