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miguelhugger2099 · 2 months

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Hello sweetie, hoping you're doing well! What about bully punk Miguel and nerd pastel girl reader at college? (Miguel with 23 and reader with 21) Like reader was ugly and will have a glow up thanks to MJ and now Miguel tries to have her attention, they have a date and sweet and fluff smut!! (reader is virgin uwu) I'll let to you the creativity

Impurities

hello sweetheart you absolute DARLING i genuinely could be better but i hope ur doing great. i want to apologize for taking so long but i want u to know when i saw this i just about melted bc punk miguel is one of my guilty pleasures i adore him so much. this ask made me want to evolve it into a series i had like several different ways to make this but ahhhh i hope it's alright

Punk!Miguel x Pastel!Reader, Fluff and Smut, Word Count: 8,875 Art by: beawoodward on artstation !

You knew you weren’t the most appealing girl out there. You weren’t about to delude yourself otherwise. You knew what people said about you, how they looked at you. Your face could’ve been worse. Maybe some bushy eyebrows? You dressed…maybe a little different than most people. While the world was covered in grays and black, you opted out by showering yourself in the cutest pastel colors. You didn’t keep up with the trends and instead followed whatever you thought looked alright. It often led to some mismatching and awkward outfits but you didn’t think so! You entered campus with a light blue and pink striped pants with a pink belt and a baby blue sweater. Two low braids tied with white ribbons at the end and your white framed glasses on the bridge of your nose. Skincare was confusing to you so all you really did was wash your face with a harsh cleanser and hoped for the best which gave you some acne instead–making you pop them and leave some scars. You tried makeup but it just looked cakey so you settled with a messy and often uneven eyeliner. Regardless of your outfit, whether in a skirt or in pants, you were always decked out in some bright pastel colors and hair done in the same two braids. You held yourself close while walking around the halls, already used to people staring and calling you names from high school. College was a little more merciful, the whispers being just as loud but at least they’d never bully you to your face. You win some, you lose some. Your self-esteem had been damaged to the point of no return anyway, so any attempts of trying to prove you’re worth something would just be a pipe dream in your eyes. That’s why you push your glasses up and cling to your shoulder bag tightly in your fist as you pass by the usual group of boys to get to the front seat of your class. Your human biology class door was opened at the back so you’d have to pass the back seats to sit at the front. As usual, the group of boys were basically monochrome except for the little specks of red or blue if they ever decided to add color. But what was most noticeable about them was the so-called leader of said group. Unofficial–official– leader Miguel O’Hara, the senior who decided to take general education classes in his last year before graduating. His usual confident and toothy grin was on display, silver spider bites that his, also pierced, tongue would often play with. His big and heavy platform boots would rest on the chair beside him while his left elbow rested on the table, his hand combing through his long brown hair–shaved at the sides, mind you. He made sure to push his fringe back so everyone could see his double eyebrow and nostril piercing. Miguel’s hands were decorated with rings, big and small and his nails were short and painted black with some of it chipping off. His usual leather jacket with pins and patches, stretched and tight from his muscular build, was accompanied by a low red tank top with a spider symbol on the front. Black skinny jeans and a spiked belt that did little to actually keep his pants in place since the black and red band of his boxers were showing.

He listened mindlessly to his group of friends as they talked with each other, his fingers switching between playing with the dangling earring on his earlobe to his industrial bar. His crimson eyes glanced up when he saw you in your uncomfortably bright and awkward fashion sense. His friend tapped his shoulder and jutted his chin out to you before whispering something in Miguel’s ear that made him shove him away with a smile. Then they both laughed as quietly as possible, chuckling at what you decided to wear today: light blue overall shorts and a pastel yellow undershirt with white knee high stockings and white sneakers, your usual white ribbons at the end of your braids.

You usually sat alone at the front, placing your earbuds in to listen to music while you waited for the professor. Despite being at the front, you could still hear some faint chuckling and words being whispered from Miguel's group.

Still, you held your head up, taking out your notebook and expensive textbook. Clicking your pen, you began some light note taking before class started.

You sighed as you entered back in your dorm, dumping your bag at the door and kicking off your shoes. You faceplated down onto your bed while your roommate MJ looked over at you sympathetically.

You turn your head, cheek squished against the mattress. “I know that beauty is subjective and I'm not supposed to earn validation from anybody else but…” You sit up and rest on your legs, hands wringing in your hands with furrowed eyebrows.

“But…I want to feel pretty.” You admit softly, ashamed since you felt like you were betraying yourself.

MJ's smile grows and she eagerly jumps from her bed to kneel at your bedside. She takes your hands in hers and squeezes them reassuringly.

“You are pretty,” She insists. “But if you really want help, I can.” MJ tilts your head to look at her, a soft smile on her face.

You nod. “I do. I just want to know how to look like you.”

MJ shakes her head. “No. No, you already have your own beauty.” She places a hand on her chest. “I meant that I can help enhance it. No change to your core is necessary.” She pokes at your chest playfully and you both giggle together.

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

You take a moment to look at her. MJ really was perfect–shiny straight red hair, clear skin that was painted with freckles and a winning white smile. You hoped she could work some magic on you.

“Okay.”

Your transformation didn't happen overnight. It took at least a few weeks for it all to come together.

MJ had dragged you to salons to get your hair properly taken care of. Gotten your eyebrows plucked, eyelashes lifted, an effective skincare routine–that you struggled to drill into your regular schedule–and a new wardrobe that still held your pastel look, just a little more flattering. She even helped you get some contact lenses so you wouldn’t need your glasses all the time! To tie it all together, you two spent nights practicing how to do your makeup that wouldn't look so wobbly and uneven. Each day, you improved yourself. Your tacky overalls changed into fitted jeans or flowy skirts. Your baggy shirts were now cute tops that hugged each curve. Tennis shoes into heels or cute sneakers and your hair came to life with a beautiful shine; your white ribbon still in your hair.

One day, you entered class like normal. Except there were very few whispers this time, almost nonexistent. Still, you don’t let it get to you and continue like normal–walking to the front of the class and sitting in your usual spot. What wasn’t normal was a figure coming up beside you and pulling out the chair next to you. Miguel slipped beside you in front of the class, tilting his head as he stared at your side profile. You tried not to react but you subconsciously glanced at him from the corner of your eye.

“Hey.” He smirked, his eyebrow raising and his lips curling.

“Hello.” You murmured back, opening your notebook to the next blank page.

“New look?” He asked, using his hand to brush your hair back off your shoulder and you stiffened. He noticed you still had the white ribbon at the back of your head. Miguel’s eyes glanced back down at your body. Nicely fitted flare baby blue jeans, a cute pastel green heart belt with a crop top white sweater.

“Looks good.” He purred. You held your blue bunny pen in your hand tightly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You didn’t understand why he was speaking to you. He hadn’t before–other than laugh at you–so what gives?

“Thanks.” You say curtly. Miguel places a hand over her heart in feign hurt.

“Don’t be like that, nena. You look so cute, I didn’t expect you to be so cold.” He teased. He crossed his arms and rested his head on them to look up at you while you wrote the rest of your notes down before class started. Miguel watched as your false eyelashes fluttered, making your eyes look bigger. The subtle blush on your cheeks and the concealer that hid most of your past acne. He could still see some of the scars which makes him huff a small laugh at how cute it kinda looks. Your lips were more plump than he remembered–a soft pink to them. He lifts his arm up to rest his cheek on his fist, his eyes still on you. “How about I take you out?” Your pen slips and leaves a slash right down your notes. “What?” “A date. Does that sound good?” You don’t look up, instead focusing on your task at hand. “No. Can you please just leave me alone?” Miguel doesn’t say anything else but you hear the chair he sat on scrape across the floor as he gets up abruptly. You hear the laughter of his friends behind you and Miguel snapping at them. Your shoulders hunch over–the natural instinct to hide from embarrassment overcoming you again.

Every week, in the same class, Miguel would try again and again and again to ask you out. Each time, you would decline. It had gotten bad enough where he changed his seat to move beside you, offering his help when he saw you were confused and overall just trying to get on your good side. You wanted to be strong, truly you did, but it was becoming too much. When Miguel had asked again, you sighed loudly and faced him. “If I say yes will you leave me alone?” Miguel broke into a wide smile. Once you finally agreed to a date with him, you truly weren’t expecting anything good. So you stood by the place Miguel wanted you to meet him at: a local diner that was pleasantly pretty looking from the outside. Still, due to your past experiences of being ghosted and stood up, you watched the time on your phone. You decided that you wouldn’t wait more than fifteen minutes max.

To your surprise, you didn’t have to wait at all. You heard Miguel call your name from your left, his lips curled into a confident smile. Subconsciously, you eyed him up and down. He had baggy black cargo pants, accompanied with chains on his right side. A DIY-ed t-shirt that was sprayed painted over many many times. Of course, his iconic leather jacket was littered with various pins and patches. When he was close enough, you saw just a bit of eyeliner surrounding his eyes; and a new septum piercing. For the people passing by, it was quite a sight to see. Compared to Miguel’s dark but proud aura, you emanated a more sweet and bright vibe. MJ had helped you pick out an outfit, excited that you approached her with the dilemma of going on a date. You wore a sheer baby blue crop top cardigan with a simple white tank top underneath. A slightly darker blue pleated skirt with white thigh high stockings and ankle strap baby blue platform pumps. You held a small purse in your hands and looked up at him through your lashes. Your hair was pinned in a half up and half down hairstyle; your white ribbon at the back of your head. You thought it was a bit much, but MJ assured you that it was just enough. “Te ves muy hermosa.” Miguel speaks up, a grin on his lips. “All for me?” He teases with a tilt of his head. A piece of his fringe falling over his forehead. “Oh, please.” You look off to the side, ignoring the flutter in your chest when called beautiful. Miguel doesn’t take it to heart, instead going past you to open the door of the diner. He dramatically takes a bow, his arm ushering you inside. The theatrics make the corner of your lips quirk up and you enter inside, nodding to Miguel. You turn your head around to see the inside, wooden chairs and tables, a jukebox at the back with a shiny bar. “This way.” You stiffen when you feel Miguel’s breath by your ear. Before you could turn, he places his hand on your lower back and leads you to a booth by the window. He sits across from you, menus at the ready on the table. “You know, I used to come to this place all the time.” Miguel says, his eyes scanning the different options. “Used to be a hangout spot for me and the others in high school. College took up my time so it’s a pain in the ass not being able to visit more.” You glance up at him, shuffling in your seat. It felt a little weird to have him speak to you like this, as if he wasn’t teasing you a few months ago.

Luckily, a waitress comes up before you two with a notepad in hand. “Oh! A pretty girl! Didn’t know you were back in the dating scene.” She cackles to herself and pushes her glasses up. Miguel groans and rolls his eyes. “I thought you didn’t work Fridays, Lyla.” “Margo couldn’t make it, I needed extra hours–and now a bonus– I get to embarrass you. Everybody wins! Except you maybe. Waddaya want?” Lyla rests on one foot, her grin plastered on her face. Miguel’s smile was long gone, now snapping his order at his friend. You watched with an amused smile. They bantered like siblings. But what she said piqued your interest. He hadn’t gone around dating? You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard Miguel call your name. His eyes were uncharacteristically soft. “Do you need another minute?” He asks. You stumble over your words and feel your cheeks burn. “No-no, uhm…” You look down at your menu and pick the first thing you see. “The, uh, chicken fajitas, please?” Lyla meets you with a smile and collects your menu. “Of course, darling.” She turns to take Miguel’s menu. “Couldn’t you have taken her to a nicer place? She’s all dolled up.” Lyla sticks her tongue out at him and walks away while Miguel’s cheeks burn red. Instead of facing you, he looks down at his hands and he picks at his black nail polish.

For once, Miguel had stayed silent. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he looked a little ashamed? Embarrassed? You could see him moving his spider bites nervously as he stares at anything besides you, his cheeks still tinged red. You pat your skirt awkwardly and clear your throat. “The…I like the diner. It’s got one of those retro vibes to it. It’s cool.” You give a small encouraging smile. For some strange reason, you thought his quietness didn’t suit him. Miguel’s eyes dart to yours and then at the window. “You think?” His hand reaches up to play with his dangling earring. It was almost cute. Just a bit. You chuckle softly. “Yeah, I mean. It’s like being in one of those time machines.” Miguel smiles. “Time machines? I think a time machine would look cooler than this dump.” You playfully smack his hand across the table. “Didn’t you say you used to come here years ago? Don’t call it a dump.” You fold your arms on your chest. You didn’t know this, but Miguel in that moment felt the tension he didn’t realize he had fell off his shoulders. “Eh, it’s a little bit of a dump.” He leans back and stretches his arm on the backseat. “But it’s like you said: a little retro.” Lyla returns with two glasses of water. “One for the cutie,” she places one on your side, giving you a wink. “And then Miguel.” She unenthusiastically hands Miguel the cup.

Miguel frowns at Lyla, a familiar bubble of jealousy brewing in his chest. “Lyla.” He warns. “What?” She stretches out the word. “Just being a good hostess.” She huffs with a pout and walks away. You giggle to yourself and Miguel notices. He’s quick to speak. “Ignore her. She’s always trying to be annoying.” He didn’t like the way Lyla was buttering you up, even if it was just a joke. He wanted you to smile at him like that. “It’s funny. I never thought I’d see you looking so bothered. How do you know her?” You smile and take a sip from your water. Miguel scratches the back of his head. “Middle school. We were in the robotics club.” You blink. “Robotics club? Really?” “Why’re you so surprised? What? A guy like me can’t be into things like that?” He smirks, placing his arms on the table and his pins rattle as he moves. “Well…kind of?” You smile weakly and laugh when Miguel pretends to be hit. “No, but seriously, robotics isn’t what I expected from you.” “Well, it was middle school. I’ve grown up into a man. This time I’ve taken an interest in being a geneticist.” He rests his head on his hand. “Don’t judge a book by its cover, nena.” He teases but you pause. That phrase is a little ironic for him to say, you thought to yourself. Shaking off that feeling, you continued to chat with Miguel. Talking about your interests, past, future and current studies. All while Miguel would try to sneak little touches, whether it be his boot tapping your heel or his hand brushing against yours when handing you a bottle of ketchup. After spending enough time at the diner, the sun was beginning to set. Before you left, Lyla convinced you to convince Miguel to give her a big tip and told you she hopes to see you again in different circumstances. Miguel holds the door open for you again and the bell dings your departure from the diner. His fingertips gently brush against yours, catching your attention.

“There’s…there’s this other place I wanna show you.” He bites his lip, peeling off the skin. His index finger loosely wraps around your pinky. “Sure…” You say hesitantly. He notices your hesitance. “It’s nearby. Just for a little bit and I’ll take you home.” The wind breezes through, giving you a glimpse of the cool air that will befall once nighttime arrives. You shiver and tuck into yourself to hide from the wind. Miguel takes off his jacket and slips it around you. Feeling the heavy material on your shoulders, you look up at him and feel the warmth go around your torso. Miguel’s eyes are focused on making sure it’s snug as it can be. It’s so large that it ends around your midthigh. He takes your little purse and pops the collar of his jacket up. “Put your arms through the sleeves so it doesn’t fall.” You blink and do as he says with a flustered expression. While shuffling your arms through the holes, you try not to glance over at him. His t-shirt was cut at the sleeves that showed off his toned arms. Despite the cold approaching, he seemed to be relaxed as he watched you, making sure you stayed warm. “Good?” He asked. Your fingers barely poked out, his jacket covering most of your outfit. And it was warm. It smelled like him.

With a satisfied smile, he slyly takes your hand in his and leads you away. You try not to focus too hard on the way his hand engulfs yours. After following Miguel in twists and turns, you eventually walk up a hill and at the very top stood a single bench with a view of the entirety of Nueva York. Your eyes widened and you let go of his hand to approach near the ledge, placing your hands on the railing. The lights of the city illuminated the night sky and acted as stars. You saw them twinkle along with hover cars that zoomed past you. “This is…” “Where I planned to take you another day. But Lyla pissed me off and I wanted to prove that I could take you somewhere nice.” He comes behind you and slings an arm around your waist. You look up at him with an amused smile. “Did you really take that to heart?” Miguel pouts his lips, his eyes looking off to the side. “I couldn’t let her make me look stupid in front of you.” You laugh, using the sleeves of his jacket to cover your smile. Miguel sees and he has a faint smile of his own on his face. He leads you back to the bench where you two sit in quiet comfortable silence after an afternoon of learning about one another. As you look over at the city with him, you couldn’t help but notice the nagging feeling in your chest. This was a date. A date that only happened because you changed yourself. A date with the person who laughed at you.

“Hey, Miguel?” You speak up quietly. He hums and looks over at you. “I…I don’t want you to be nice to me just because I got a little…prettier.” Miguel looks down at you with a frown. He stuffs his hands in his pockets while he looks back at the skyline. He says your name softly to grab your attention. “I’m not being nice just because you’re pretty.” You scrunch your eyebrows and scoff. “Yeah, I’m sure all those times you laughed at me was just you being a charmer.” “Laugh at you?” He raises his eyebrows and you look away. “Nena, I wasn’t laughing at you.” “Don’t lie to me, Miguel. I’m used to it. No use in sparing my feelings.” You sigh. “But I wasn’t,” He insists. He wants to reach for your hand, to touch you but he stops himself. “Really, I was…admiring you.” You roll your eyes. “Now you’re really being a jerk. There was nothing to admire when I looked…stupid and ugly.” “You did not.” He turned you to face him by turning your chin softly. “So you’re saying the way I looked before wasn’t stupid?” You glare at him but Miguel can’t find it in him to take it badly. “You were cute. The way you dressed and looked, it was awkward–sure–but it was adorable.” He chuckles but your frown deepens, feeling the tears bubble up in your eyes as you turn away from him. Miguel calls your name again. “I’m the last person to judge anyone for how they dress. Look at me.” Miguel flicks his multiple ear piercings, pulls on his snake bites, stretches his tattered and ruined t-shirt and slams his dirty platform boots to the ground. “A freak. You were just a cuter version.” “Then why did you talk to me now?” You murmur.

“Because you suddenly changed. I wanted to know what was up.” “And…the sudden date?” “Your transformation gave me the courage to speak to you. It was my chance–an excuse to talk to you.” Miguel says softly. “Though you did reject me twelve times. I was starting to lose hope.” “It was not twelve times.” “It felt like twelve times.” “...You have to admit that I’m…much more appealing now than I was before.” Miguel sighs. “Nena, the only thing different about you is clear skin and some clothes. Everything else is still you. You were pretty underneath, you just enhanced it. At your core, you’re still you. Bright and colorful.” He bumps your shoulder. You smile shyly and look in your lap. “MJ said something similar.” “MJ?” “My roommate. She helped me with, y’know, everything.” It was still hard to believe. Over two decades of being told otherwise was not going to go away by a single conversation but it still warmed your heart to hear something positive about you for once. You don’t say anything else and Miguel takes his chance to wrap his arm around you, bringing you to his chest. With flushed cheeks, you look out into the open where the skyline is feeling at peace and just a little pretty.

You two had arrived at your dorm and you faced Miguel shyly. Your eyes looked at the ground as you felt your cheeks heat up. “This is my place.” You state and Miguel chuckles, the sound of it sending your heart pumping. “I see that.” He says, taking a step toward you which makes you take a step back. “I had fun.” You whisper softly, your eyes landing on his chest. You see Miguel’s hand lift up to your chin and make you look into his eyes. Your cheeks burn since he keeps his hand on your chin to make sure you wouldn’t look away. “Me too.” He murmured, his red eyes looking like they turned a darker shade when he glanced at your lips. He takes another step towards you and you take another step back. You feel your head hit the door and realize you’re now trapped between it and him.

You hold your breath and can only feel the pounding of your heart in your chest and Miguel’s calloused fingers holding you still. Miguel then uses his other hand to hold your hip, his thumb trying to slide under your tank top. Your hands raise up to hold onto his biceps, shivering when your skin meets his. He was warm. “I…kind of don’t want this to end.” You admit softly. Miguel’s grin grows wider, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek which makes you weak in the knees. “Then it doesn’t have to, muñequita.” His hand leaves your chin to cup your cheek. He glances up above your head. “Your roommate home?” He asks. Your eyes never leave his face, your pupils dilating and a weird feeling starting to brew in your stomach. “No,” You squeak out and he looks back down at you. “She’s–She’s, um, out with her boyfriend.” Miguel hums, another glance to your lips. “Then…will you invite me inside?” He asks, leaning down so his lips just barely graze yours. Not quite a kiss yet. Your breath hitches and you nod a few times before speaking. “Mhm, okay.” You reach your hand behind you to grab the doorknob and twist it open. You stumble backwards but Miguel quickly wraps his arm that was on your hip around your waist. He then makes you walk backwards while he could shut the door behind him. You had your arms around his neck and looked up with wide eyes and a fast paced heartbeat. Miguel huffs out a chuckle. “You okay?” “Mhm!” You squeak. He squints down at you in playful suspicion but brushes it off. He bends down to where his lips brush yours again and finally dips low enough to kiss you. Your first shared kiss. You stumble with how to kiss, especially when the other person has piercings, but with someone like Miguel, you quickly learn and get the hang of it. Soft kissing noises sound between the small space of you two and he gradually moves from your lips to your cheek and down your neck. His arms around your waist tug you closer, bending you back and he moves you further back to where your calves hit the mattress of your bed. One hand rises up to pull his leather jacket off your shoulder, gently nibbling across your skin before reverting back to your throat. With his lips on your neck, Miguel could feel your pulse going wild, heartbeat going crazy each second. He decides to check in. “You okay?” he murmurs with a smile, his lips finding yours again for quick kisses. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve just–” kiss “Just–” kiss “Y’know, never–” kiss, kiss “Done this before.” He pauses, stiffening before he pulls back. “Wait. Are you saying this would be your first time…having sex?” Your heart sinks. That was bad wasn’t it? “No, it’s not bad.” Miguel shakes his head. You didn’t realize you voiced your concerns. “I’m just surprised, is all. Usually people have done it already.” You look away from him, visibly uncomfortable that he’s lowkey making fun of you. Miguel realizes the damage and quickly tries to fix it. “But there’s nothing wrong with it, nena! I didn’t mean–” He sighs, scratching the back of his neck. He looks around your dorm room. Your side is filled with cute things like plushies and fluffy blankets–a strawberry duvet all in the same hue of pastels.

“Look. We don’t have to do anything. I don’t…want to make it seem like I’m only here for that.” He shrugs his leather jacket back on your shoulder. “Because I do like you, nena. I’m willing to wait or if you never want it then it’s whatever. I just would really like a second date at least. Maybe at a nicer place like what Lyla said. Maybe I could clean myself up.” He gives you a weary smile. You stare at his hands that hold onto the zipper part of his leather jacket. For a while, you don’t say anything. “What if I don’t want to wait.” You mumble. You look up with some determination on your face. “I…I want to. With you.” Miguel takes his hands off you. “Wh–Are…are you sure?” You slip his jacket off you and let it fall to the side, stripping off the first piece of clothing from yourself. Your mouth is tight, heart hammering in your chest and cheeks feeling that familiar prick of heat up your neck but you’re sure of yourself. You want this. Miguel rakes his eyes up and down your body as you stand before him. “Alright.” He breathes out, undeniably attracted to you at this moment. “But this will all be at your pace, okay? I’ll make you feel good.” He purrs resting his hands at your hips and your facade crumbles slowly and you get shy again. He sits you down on your bed and he kneels before you, his hands on your thighs. He takes your right foot in his hands and carefully unbuckles the ankle strap of your pumps and slides it off. You cover your mouth, heart pounding at the intimate yet innocent act of him taking off your heels. He does the same with your other heel and sets it to the side.

Miguel then looks up at you from his lashes, his confident ones meeting your bashful ones. Taking your right leg again, he slips your thigh high stocking off you and does the same for your other leg. He places his hands on your knees and slowly spreads your legs apart to give you time to stop him. You don’t. “Come closer, mami.” He murmurs, sliding his hands up to grip the flesh of your thighs. You let out a weak mewl and scoot closer to the edge of your bed. Miguel bunches your skirt up, groaning and feeling his cock twitch in his pants when his eyes land on your pastel pink panties, a sweet little bow in the middle like you were a present for him. “Tan bella,” He murmurs, unable to hide the utter desire he has for you. You cover your face in embarrassment as he spreads your legs wider. His lips graze over your thighs, pressing kisses as he makes his way up. You feel your heart skip a beat everytime you feel his warm breath. Your hands clutch your strawberry sheets and he notices.

“You can hold onto me, mami.” He purrs and you swallow the lump in your throat.

“Wha…how do I..?” You feel stupid, your hands raising up and unsure of where exactly to put them. Miguel takes your hands and places him in his hair. His fingers curl around yours so you could grip onto his strands.

Feeling your face burn, the sight of you holding onto him while his eyes bore into yours. You instinctively clench your fists, his hair being tugged on in the process which makes him groan and close in his eyes. He likes a bit of pain, it seems

Miguel's hands return to your thighs, wrapping his arms underneath to tug you closer to his awaiting mouth and to keep your legs apart. “Hips up, mama.” He purrs and you do as he says, making him slip your panties off.

He discards them off to the side and delves between your thighs. His nose nudges your nub and you gasp, pursing your lips and gripping tighter on his hair.

“Miguel!” You whimper and he hums in response. You feel the metal ball of his tongue piercing curl inside you–it was strangely pleasurable. You didn’t expect it to feel so good. You rest on one hand behind you, the other still planted in his hair as you bucked forward on his tongue. Miguel the munch that he is, grins against your folds and licks a long stripe up before spitting and devouring your sweet nectar again. You felt the sudden slimy wetness hit your nerves and you yelped in surprise. Just as quick, you fall into submission when his skilled tongue swirled in little number eights. Your eyes were closed shut, your hand pulling Miguel closer to which he obliged. He then surprises you by sticking one of his thick fingers inside you. “Oh my…god.” You moan, your body growing hot and sweaty underneath all your clothing. “Miguel…” Miguel’s mouth moves in rhythm, his lips kissing your pussy as he drinks whatever your sweet cunt offers him. He could stay like this forever, cleaning your mess up and licking you for all eternity. His rings nudge your folds, the metal a stark contrast from his rough fingers. He pumps a second finger inside and it’s a bit of a stretch that feels good enough for you to thrust harder. “Mmm, yes…oh, I’m so close…” You mumble to yourself, chest heaving as you come closer and closer to climax. Unexpectedly, Miguel pulls away from between your legs. The pleasure being ripped from you and you struggle to lift your head as he pulls off you. The look in his eyes is different. More lustful, more hungry.

“If you’re gonna cum, I want you cumming around my cock.” He groans and wipes his lips with the back of his hand. Miguel stands up and gets into bed with you, shoving his platform shoes and pants off. While he gets on top, you rest back into your bed and your eyes become big and wide–darting between his face and between his legs. “Is it–will it hurt?” You bring your hands to your chest, clutching the fabric of your tank top. Miguel lifts your chin up to him. His eyes are kind and soft. “It’s not supposed to. I’ll make sure it won’t.” He grabs the waistband of your skirt and tugs it off your legs, throwing it with the other forgotten clothes. His hands make his way up your body, helping you remove the sheer cardigan and sliding your tank top up and over your head. Miguel chuckles at the heart patterned bra you wore. He leans over to kiss your neck and you sigh. The feeling of his lips sucking and tongue licking you was surprisingly pleasurable. Instinctively, your reach around his shoulders to hold onto him, your back arching to be chest to chest with him. Miguel’s hands go under your back, holding you up while he quickly unclasps the bra. Feeling the loss of your support, you whine but Miguel kisses you before you become louder. He places you back down on your back and finally removes the last piece of clothing. Miguel admires you from above, his hands at your waist, rubbing up and down your sides as he feels your curves. “Perfecta. Eres mucha mujer.” He whispers while trailing his lips along your collarbone. You whimper, feeling your cheeks burn and grow hot to the touch. His breath ghosts over your breasts and he stares up at you maintaining eye contact. Miguel notices something in your hair; your white ribbon, still tied in your messy hair. His heart swells and smiles, reaching up to brush your hair away.

He kisses down the valley of your breasts and around your nipple. He glances up at you every so often to make sure you’re not feeling any sort of discomfort. He can feel your heart pounding underneath his palm. Miguel wraps his lips around your nipple and sucks softly. You gasp and hold your breath for a moment while his cold tongue piercing swirled around your nipple, his spider bites and nose piercing pressed against the softness of your tits. You stare up at the ceiling as the warmth in your body flooded down to your core. “Oh! M..Miguel…” You whined, your hands curling in his hair where you felt most comfortable. Miguel flicks his finger around your other nipple, pulling and bullying it until it becomes erect and perky. Even then, he twists it and gropes your tit in time with his sucking and biting. Your hips buck up, feeling your pussy throbbing uncomfortably. When you hit his bulge, Miguel moaned and grinded himself to your soaked pussy in soft circles. Your juices left a stain on his boxers in your desperate attempts at relief. He lets go of your tits–leaving a small bite mark– and continues to kiss down your body. “Gracias a Dios por mandarme esta belleza.” He murmurs, digging his hands into the plush of your hips when he raises your thighs up. Suddenly, he stops and lets go of you. “Shit, shit, fuck–hold on.” He mumbles and gets off you. You feel cold and watch as he gets off the bed and picks up his pants from the floor and searches through his pockets. “Did I…do something?” You ask, worried you might’ve done something that made Miguel regret touching you. He shakes his head. “No, no–just–ah, there it is…” He chuckles to himself after finding his wallet and pulling out a small square packet. He pushes his fringe back with one hand as he gets back into bed. Miguel shuffles down his boxers after putting the packet between his teeth. “I’ll get you pregnant some other time.” “What?” “What?” You close your mouth and hear ringing in your ears. You were sure that steam would be coming out of your head at this point–your mind felt like mush with how easily flustered he made you. Miguel looks down at you and huffs a small laugh, letting you know he was joking. Maybe. Hopefully.

His cock springs free once his boxers are off and he groans when it slaps his stomach, leaving a bead of his precum on his tip. Your eyes shamelessly stare at him. You were by no means an expert when it came to sex but you grew both worried and aroused at how massive he was. “There is…no way it’s gonna fit.” Miguel rips the plastic with his teeth and rolls the condom on his dick to the base. For a moment, you’re disappointed that he added protection. Just for a moment, though. He breathes out and gives soft strokes to his shaft while looking at you from beneath him. He feels his cock pulse and throb, growing harder by the second just by the sight of your perfectly sculpted naked body. He thought you were divine. Placing his hands on either side of your head, he leans down to kiss you as if trying to ease your worries. “It’ll fit, I promise. It’ll feel so good, too.” He whispers, his lips brushing against yours. “I’ll go slow.” He takes one hand to lift your thigh up just enough to give him space to rub his cock between your wet folds. “Miguel…!” You gasp while you feel just how hard he was. He shushes you. “I know, nena. Look what you do to me. Feel what you did to me.” He buries himself in your neck, nipping at your skin and you tilt your head back. More of your arousal soaks his cock, creating wet sounds while you grind on each other and Miguel shudders. He bites into your shoulder and fights against his instinct to shove his cock inside and fuck you into your own mattress. Miguel kisses the spot he bit, his breathing labored and heavy. “Tell me if it hurts, mama, okay?” You nod, your eyes screwed shut. “Uh-huh…” Slowly, Miguel looks down and makes sure his tip splits your folds apart as he enters inside you. Your breath hitches and you tighten your arms around his neck. “Miguel!” You whine while he penetrates you. He kisses your temple and stops when only his tip is inside you.

“You’re doing great, nena. No te preocupes, lo estás haciendo bien.” He reassures you with a shaky voice. It’s clear he’s holding back. You whimper apologies and Miguel kisses across your cheeks to try and return your focus on him instead of the new stretch you’re feeling. He praises you in a mix of Spanish and English–ones you can barely hear. He moves his hand down between your legs and gently rubs your clit with your thumb in hopes of loosening you up. With the added stimulation, you moan and hide in his neck with your eyes shut. You weakly thrust up, feeling a bit of relief and allowing Miguel to push further in. “Good, good,” He purrs. “Just like that, mama. Just let me in.” He groans and hisses when you clench around him. Miguel’s thumb switches between a fast and slow pace, sliding in his cock easily until you cry out and dig your nails into his skin, leaving small crescent shapes. “Stop, stop–” You whimper. “I’ll pull out–It’s okay–” “No!” You keep him close to you. “No, I just–I need a minute.” You sniffle, your body slowly adjusting around his girth. Miguel nods and pulls back enough to meet your eyes. “Okay. Okay, whatever you need. At your pace, remember?” He rests his forehead against yours. You open your eyes to see his cheeks flushed, a bit of sweat running down his temple and he shakes with every breath. Despite his current state of desire, he’s putting you first–he’s putting your comfort first. “Thank you.” You whine softly. Miguel huffs, leaning down to kiss the corner of your eyes. “Don’t thank me for that, nena. Never.” Miguel continues to pamper you with kisses, murmuring about how beautiful you are, how well you’re taking him, how he can’t get enough of you. He nuzzles into your neck, rolling lazily over your clit and does gentle thrusts of whatever you were able to handle. After a few moments, you grab his attention by running your hands through his hair, fingernails scratching over his shaved parts. “Okay…more, please.” He lifts himself up and holds your hips with both his hands. His thumbs caress your hip bones as he pushes himself deeper. You moan and tilt your head back, biting your lip as the combination of pain and pleasure hits your stomach and through every nerve in your body. It felt like forever until he reached the hilt, the light smack of his balls hitting your pussy. Miguel smiles. “Good girl,” he licks his lips. “Mirame.” Your head tilts back down to see both of you finally connected. “Holy shit…” You whisper, the sight making you clench. Miguel moans and grips your hips tighter, his head falling forward as he takes a deep breath. “Fuck, don’t tighten around me like that.” “Sorry!” You squeak and he chuckles. He raises his head back up, hair falling in front of his face and a lazy smile on his face that shows his fangs–his piercings glinting in the dim moonlight. “Don’t be. It’s just, you feel so fucking good–you’ll make me cum.”

You cover your face and resist the urge to scream. The heat emanating from your face made you sweaty. Miguel takes your wrists and pins them to the side of your head. He cocks a pierced eyebrow up with a smirk. It softens when he sees just how flushed your expression is. “‘m gonna move, okay?” You gulp and give him the green light. Miguel looks down and slowly pulls out, watching your slick drench his condom covered cock. “Jesus…” He groans under his breath. He looks back up to see if there’s any sign of discomfort on your end but he’s met with your eyes glued between your legs as well. Your eyebrows are scrunched up in pleasure, mouth agape with shallow breaths while you watch him slowly ease out of you. Miguel’s eyes darken with lust and he pushes back in once his tip was kissing your heat. He watches as you roll your head back, your eyes rolling behind your skull when you felt his cock filling you up again. “Oh my God…” You moan. “Miguel…” Miguel’s heart jumps and his hands tighten around your wrists. Still, he’s careful. For a few minutes, Miguel continues his slow thrusting. He pulls out sweet moans and whimpers from you, getting you used to his massive size and stretching your cunt out to the shape of him. His tip nudges against your cervix and you jump which makes him grin. After those few minutes, you began writhing underneath him. The pain had subsided and now this soft stroking was sweet but it wasn’t doing anything for you anymore. Your hands clenched and unclenched into fists.

“Miguel, Mig–more,” You begged. “Faster.” “You sure?” He slows to a stop and you furrow your eyebrows in annoyance which he doesn’t notice. He’s about to ask again after your lack of response when you lock your ankles around his waist, shoving him back inside you. You and Miguel moan in unison, Miguel nearly falling on top of you if he didn’t catch himself by resting on his elbows by your head. His breath fanned your face and he looked down into your eyes with a heavy blush. “More.” You moan and Miguel quickly goes to work. He leans on one elbow and places his other hand down to your hip to start picking up his pace. Miguel attaches his lips to your chest, biting the plump flesh of your tits before taking your nipple in his mouth once again. Your hands go around his back, your nails raking down his spine that leave red streaks. He pushes himself further against you, folding you in half while he increases his speed, abusing your pussy by slamming his cock in and out of you. Your squealing and moaning becomes music to Miguel’s ears. He groans and licks his tongue around your nipple, lapping it back in his mouth to suck on it. His nails dig into your waist while the sound of skin slapping signaling just how desperate he is to fill you with his cock. “Atta girl,” He moans after moving up to your neck with wet open mouthed kisses. “Knew you could take all of me. Knew you would sound so pretty crying all over my cock.” He smirks, looking up to see your eyes rolled back, tears brimming your eyes in ecstasy instead of pain this time. Your pussy spasms around him as you whimper.

“Mig–Mig–” You babble mindlessly. The only thing on your mind is Miguel, Miguel and Miguel. “So–so good…” You slur, vision going hazy while the lust clouded your mind. Miguel’s ego inflates, his dick twitching inside you. Even with a condom he could still feel your pussy contract around him, your warm walls sucking him in deeper. Your hips wiggle and buck weakly to match his thrusts but ultimately Miguel does all the work, sending your mind spinning while he practically fucks all your thoughts, fears, and insecurities from your brain—turning you into a dumb cock-drunk mess. Through the haze, you can hear your juices sloppily smacking between you and Miguel–an erotic sound of wet plaps, his balls becoming slick and sticky with your arousal. “God, you feel so good,” He moans, hips stuttering. “It’s like your cunt is just begging for my cum. You want it? Huh? This tight little pussy gonna milk me dry?” He quickened his pace, humping against you in fast short thrusts. You scratch his back, multiple lines of red marking his skin while your toes curl. “Yes, please, please, please–I wanna,” You babble through gasps. “It’s so good–I wanna cum–Don’t stop…!” Your voice becomes high pitched, your hips lifting to grind yourself on him. The both of you fucking one another exactly like horny college kids. Miguel growls, nipping at your neck to add more hickeys to your body. “Never. Holy shit–you’re so fucking sexy,” He cuts himself off with a groan, his sweaty forehead falling to your shoulder while he humps you. “Never letting you go. This pussy is mine.” His thumb finds your clit again, his fingers slowly being drenched with your messy juices that had spread all around your labia, smearing around your pussy with the help of Miguel’s unstable thrusting. His cold rings bumped against your hot skin, the difference in temperature becoming another factor in your raw lust. Your screams of pleasure bounced off the walls. “C’mon pretty girl. Cum for me. I know you’re close.” He pants in your ear.

“Mig–gy!” You choke out, eyes squinted in ecstasy as Miguel helps you reach your climax. It wasn’t anything you’ve experienced before. White hot numbing pleasure waving through your body as you spasmed. Your orgasm shook your entire body and you clutched onto him tightly, your legs keeping him near, nails finding purchase in his back and arching your breasts up to his chest, nipples sensitive to the touch. Miguel followed right after: rubbing your clit faster and his balls ached with a tightness before releasing his seed into the condom, his cock twitching as it spurts out his cum. He moans loudly, his body shivering and shaking along with you but he still helps you come down from the high, pumping weakly as he empties himself. Your body falls limp, head lolled back while Miguel breaths heavily. He pulls out as gently as you can but your virgin cunt wasn’t used to such stimulation, each inch back caressed your sensitive nerves up until he finally left with a pop. Miguel’s hands shook as he took off the condom, body now covered in cold sweat now that the heat of the momentum was gone. He stumbled off your bed and tied the condom shut then dumped it in the small bin in your dorm room. He slipped back in your bed beside you, smiling to himself when you took deep breaths with your eyes closed. “Hey, you alright?” He asks with a soft wheeze. “Huh?” You barely heard him over the heartbeat pounding in your head. The blood flow goes through your body normally once again. “Hm? Oh. Mhm. Yeah.” Miguel chuckles, resting on one elbow with his cheek in his palm and brushes your sweaty hair back from your face. “Yeah? You were amazing.”

“Really?” You try to look up at him through the exhaustion in your eyes. Who knew sex could take all your energy? Miguel grabs your folded fuzzy blanket and unravels it to drape it on top of you two. “Really. I’m honored to be your first.” You blush at the reminder that you hadn’t had sex before and the reminder that you were no longer a virgin. You stare at his face while his hands caress your cheeks, his thumb rubbing the side of your neck right under your jawline. “Do you really like me?” You find yourself asking him. Miguel’s hand stops moving and he looks surprised. “Yeah,” He confirms gently. “I wouldn’t fuck you if I didn’t. I don’t have sex with just anyone.” He pulls your cheek. You frown and pout at him. “I'm serious!” Miguel chuckles. “I know, I know.” He tilts your chin up with his index finger and leans down to kiss you sweetly for a quick peck. He knows what’s really on your mind. “My pretty girl.” He hums as he stares down at you to admire the afterglow of your orgasm. “All mine. My pretty girl.” He dunks his head down to your chest, wrapping his arms around you to pull you in his embrace and snuggles you.

Your heart flutters. Pretty. It hits you then that Miguel really does think you’re pretty. You feel his ear piercings against your chest and the rings on his fingers running up and down the curve of your spine. His fingers find your white ribbon, crumpled under you and he twirls it around his ring finger. You struggle to hold back your smile as you hug him back, nuzzling your nose in his hair and falling asleep with the comfort of knowing someone genuinely finds you beautiful, inside and out.

a/n: im sorry i wasnt normal i just love a good trope and punk miguel i cant help but make him cute

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara imagine #spiderman 2099 x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #nonie requests ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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i-drop-level-one-loot · 8 months

Text

Yandere!Monster X Barbarian!Reader

❤️ Barbarian Reader who seems to have put all their stat points into Strength/Dex, and completely forgot Intelligence

💀 thembo.exe

❤️ A huge sweetheart, and I mean huge

💀 Was always the tallest in their village, towering over both women and men alike

❤️ Due to their height (Reader) had a lot more placed on their shoulders from a very early age

💀 Some internal reflection could have led to a deeper understanding of their secret yearning to rely on another person, but that sounds like a lot of work... And thinking...

❤️ Happy to be sent as part of their tribe's representation when meeting with a tribe of monsters despite knowing nothing about politics

💀 While the presence of the monster people caused visible discomfort in their fellow warriors, (Reader) was too busy being star struck to think about how easily this new species could kill them

Xyleth emerges from his tent, unimpressed with the shivering smooth skins before him. His form was only vaguely human in the front, with a gun metal blue chest and face, sparkling in the sun like his skin was dusted in finely crushed gems. However, his backside and limbs were armored in an inky black shell, spiked for protection along his joints and down his long tail, with bone colored claws adorning his claw like appendages. His eyes seemed black in the shade, but held a universe of stars in the light. Xyleth was born to be a leader, only the strongest of his species developed this coloring, separating him from the rest of his tribe whose shells were a sandy brown to hide in the desert of their home.

❤️ (Reader) didn't notice the congregation were speaking, still taking in the sights about them, before they finally looked forward, witnessing the tallest of the monsters

💀 (gasps) "Damn, you're huge!"

❤️ The barbarians gasp in horror, and flinch away from (Reader)

💀 Was this some sort of joke?

❤️ A tight smile formed on Xyleth's chiseled face. "Yes?"

💀 "Yeah, I thought I was big, but damn, you could crush me without breaking a sweat, huh big guy?"

❤️ What's this? Was this human attempting to flatter him? A war lord of a different species?

💀 No, (Reader) was genuinely impressed.

❤️ "And the point of you bringing this up, small one?" He asked, his on edge grin softening into an amused smile. Although he would have no interest in something not his own species, it was adorable how this human flirted with him so confidently (that's not what's happening)

💀 "Ah, no point. I'd love to wrestle you though!" (Reader) knocked their fists together, pumped at the idea of testing their strength against the beast

❤️ Xyleth and his guards were taken aback, Xyleth's tail smacking the ground with surprise. No one had ever been so brave, so brazen. Unknown to the barbarians, the armored monsters had a very unique mating ritual, similar to scorpions dancing while pressing up against each other to test the male's strength

💀 Despite (Reader) being taller than their fellow barbarians, they were still several feet shorter than Xyleth's shortest villager

❤️ But your personality... None of the women or men had ever approached Xyleth like (Reader) had (again, not what's going on..)

💀 Perhaps Xyleth would actually listen to the barbarians, instead of slaughtering them for having the audacity to request a conference with him like he originally planned

❤️ The barbarians were invited to stay with the rival tribe for a week as they discussed various topics (Reader) had no interest in

💀 (Reader) quickly became loved by the local children, the children adoring (Reader) as a human loves their pet puppy, allowing (Reader) to rough house with them and feeding them snacks like a stray

❤️ (Reader) did not find this insulting, and was enjoying the affection and attention they were receiving

Xyleth was bored in his meetings with the soft skins, upset that (Reader) wasn't involved. He had learned that (Reader) was brought in as the muscle, which irked him. Did they not research how giant his species were before arriving? What did they think someone as small and sweet and adora- Xyleth thumped his tail loudly, frightening the barbarians. Why couldn't he get (Reader) out of his head? "Let's continue this after lunch."

💀 Xyleth roamed his streets in search for (Reader). Although they weren't there as part of the 'debate team' it was a little upsetting that (Reader) wasn't at least waiting for Xyleth near the meeting tent seeing how enamored they were with him

❤️ (Reader) was found in a circle of chuckling adults, struggling with all their might to lift two children at the same time

💀 The sight immediately filled Xyleth's heart with warmth, seeing the children as their own for a split second, and picturing an entire future with the barbarian

❤️ He knew (Reader) would have no objections to becoming his mate, however their people might argue

💀 It didn't matter if he had to kill the other barbarians staying in his town, he had initially planned on slaughtering them anyhow, but it would be better if they enthusiastically supported their love

❤️ And they did support his proposal, especially since it was either trade (Reader) for their protection (from Xyleth's own tribe) on their hunting paths, or die right there and have their entire tribe extinguished

💀 What a supportive family (Reader) has~!

(Reader) didn't notice when the rest of their people left the village, still having the time of their life with creatures that more matched their strength and height. One of the kids gasped and wiggled his way out of (Reader's) arms, running away as his parents also turned back towards their homes. A large shadow approached the confused human, who got up, patting the dirt off their legs.

"Play fighting with young boys? Are you trying to make me jealous, little one?" Xyleth joked with a smile.

(Reader) felt their heart soar being called "Little One", relishing in the friendliness they experienced from the citizens the barbarians called monsters.

"Bwahahaha!!! Jealous? If I was as imposing as you, the only one who could make me jealous would be a god!"

Xyleth couldn't control his tail, whacking the ground in embarrassment over his love's honesty flirtatiousness.

"If it wouldn't be too inconveniencing, I would be honored to take you up on that wrestling proposition now.." He could hardly speak with how excited he was, fearful the adorable little human could hear his two hearts rapid beating.

"Really? Right now? I'm a little worn out, but I'll never turn down a challenge! Just don't be too disappointed!"

Xyleth picked (Reader) up in his arms, fighting every urge to take them right then and there in the center of his village.

"I could never be disappointed in you~" his deep voice vibrated against (Reader's) body, as he carried them to his tent, the poor human completely unaware of what he was about to do to them.

#yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere monster #gender neutral reader #not proofread #thembo #soft yandere #yandere #yandere oc #bad writing

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ioniansunsets · 6 months

Note

i loved your heartsteel!kayn scenarios! can you possibly do a scenario of fem!reader helping heartsteel!kayn dye his hair :3

✖ Heartsteel!Kayn Getting His Hair Dyed by Reader ✖

✖ Word Count: 900

✖ Tags: Established R/S

✖ A/N: He has his default skin braid here. Stay tuned for more. I MISS THIS FUCKER'S BRAID OK. Also you are his long term partner! I thought it would be cute if you have been supporting him though all his ups and downs uwu

----

" For reals, you've done this before right. Don't fuck it up I swear to god I will cry I'm dealing with enough shit right now babe." " You're the one that asked me to do this for you, have some trust in me."

You comb through his braid and neatly section if off one last time before slapping on the DIY at home bleach. After getting kicked out of his old band Kayn wanted a full makeover, so with five boxes of bleach and some whining he convinced you to help him bleach and dye his hair. You stood awkwardly behind him as you comb in the bleach. Kayn wasn't wearing a shirt, so that he wouldn't ruin any tees. So it was quite a sight, hair down, topless, you pause for a bit and stare. After some thinking you sigh, you were going to miss his blue and black hair...it was so soft too...

" Hey I heard that sigh! You know I HAVE to do this...I want to change my image, show them I'm better without them!"

Kayn pouts, you see it in the mirror and laugh. Slapping on more bleach, sectioning it out and complaining once again bout how the long hair sticks to the gloves and makes it all messy. But ok, you work hard, with a roll of aluminum foil ready you neatly bleach his long hair. As you wait for the first bleaching to set in you throw a little of the leftovers on your hair too, just enough for one strip.

" Should we match colors?"

You see Kayn visibly perk up as he hears your suggestion.

" Really? I think that will be cute. Like a cringey couple."

He smirks, leaning back to take a good look at you in the toilet mirror. He starts laughing loudly.

" Wait are you copying me or making fun of me! Why bleach that same chunk of hair as the old me!"

The two of you chat for a bit as you wait for the bleach to set in, when times up you help him wash it all off in the tub. Damn his hair was really such a dark black, it was just brown now. You comment about it needed a few more rounds of bleach. Kayn sighs this time instead, exhausted already but his rockstar image was at stake, he wanted to look cool so he had to do this. He had a goal already, an ombre fade of pink and purple, it would be so cool. Sitting back down, you blow dry his hair and start on round two.

And round three. Orange.

And four. Yellow.

And five before the yellow finally lifts enough! You were finally free from seeing that yellow, orange hue! And-

Oh no. You look at a handful of hair in your hands from where you combed through his hair.

" Kayn I am so sorry..." " No! I cannot deal with this right now please. Y/N Tell me its fine." " I'll fix it!"

You too were unsure how to react, were you going to cry or laugh. After five bleaches, his hair kinda...fried off. Ah...you were REALLY going to miss his long hair. Promising to fix it, you grab some hair scissors and did your best. With Kayn doing everything to hold himself together while you save what you can and work out a messy cut. It actually looked really good. You tell him to look up as you blow dry his hair yet again. Promising it wasn't as bad as he thought it was going to be. Kayn tentatively pulls his hands away from his face as he looks at himself in the mirror. A smile slowly creeping across his face.

" Oh shit you really did fix it? The hell Y/N! Let's dye it right now! I still want that pink purple thing going down!"

He tilts his head left and right, trying to get a better look at it, an idol worthy style. Kayn nods, happy with what you've done with it. Quickly you work the colors onto his hair and yours. Laughing together as he admires himself in the mirror. Half an hour passes and you wash his hair and dry it off for the last time. Kayn himself also helping to wash the and dry your hair. You smile as the two of you admire your reflections.

" Is it me or are we looking super hot?"

He snakes and arm around your waist, pulling you close. Giving your cheek a quick kiss.

" I actually like this a lot I'm glad it worked out. Thank you Y/N."

Kayn gives you a warm smile as he runs his hands through his hair, giving it a little shake as it falls gracefully along his jawline. He turns his attention back to the mirror before he shouts.

" Oh shit yeah! Let me snap a photo!"

Kayn leaves the room for a bit, grabbing his phone and a nice shirt to snap a photo in. He returns, hand draped around your shoulder as he takes a mirror selfie with you both. The largest smile plastered on his face as he sits down and edits it to use as his new wallpaper. You would mourn his pretty braid but...he was still your charming boyfriend you could live with the new style. The short hair was starting to grow on your after all.

#Also I like just bleached and dyed my hair to match og Kayn and was thinking of this scenario the whole time LMAO #Anon Answer #Shieda Kayn #Shieda Kayn x Reader #SCENARIOS #League of Legends Scenarios #Kayn LoL #Heartsteel!Kayn #KaynLeague #Kayn League #Kayn x Reader #this might be a bit weird i hope its still fun to read #had some ????????!!!!!! writing this #also this is also from personal experience where i bleached my hair 7 times and it just snapped at random places oops

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queenie-the-court-jester · 1 month

Text

Cult of the sacrificial lamb ♡

a/n: there is no actual lamb cult, I just like the title 😭 nsfw, mentioning their cock and titty sizes lmao

•°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆

★poka and juniper the Valais black nose's: the twins are inseparable. You need to bathe one but it's not the other's bath time yet? Suck it up then, 'cause they're both going in the tub now. No guarantee you won't get splashed with water. Poka is colorblind, and juniper is.. interesting. Who knows what's wrong her. The only way you can tell the difference between them is through their eyes. Who's blind and who isn't.

Physical appearance: they're both dark skinned with loosely curly black hair. At this point you should give them a haircut. Juniper has green eyes and poka has blue eyes. Juniper is 130 lbs, while poka is 120 lbs. (Juni's packing some pretty big milkers, DD cup bra. Poka got a 6 incher) 5'5

★violet the harri: violet is a little violent. Her name suits her. Kinda. You could be busy doing your chores and she'd tackle whoever decided to come within a 15 foot radius of your location. She likes to bite too, they out multiple muzzles on her only for her to chew through them. She's only ever docile with you, kinda. Just ignore the multiple bite marks around your arms.

Physical appearance: B cup, 140lbs, white long hair, pale as fuck, and violet eyes, 5'3

★azucar the Columbia sheep: I was hesitant to put azucar here since she's 17, legally a minor. I won't do any nsfw content with her because it makes me uncomfy. She can be the sweetest hybrid you ever met or the meanest. No in-between. Her moods flip like a light switch, unpredictable. She'll cuss you out in Spanish and then t-bag you. Talk about a hormonal teenager

Physical appearance: c cup, 137 lbs, curly white hair, pale skin, black eyes, 5'4

★wehrner the American black belly: he has daddy vibes, like he could bend you over his knee and spank your ass because you didn't address him as 'sir'. Bastard. You often catch him shamelessly fapping behind a tree in the fields, even when you freeze and stare at his impressive dick he doesn't stop, instead, inviting you to join him. And that's the story of how he got the cone of shame.

Appearance: 8 incher, 150 lbs, 5'7, long black and brown hair, grey eyes, peach skin, large horns curled around his ears

★Sally the angora goat: 'it's earthworm Sally! Carrying diseases from Florida to Cali!' That is her theme song fr. She's been fooling around with the neighboring farm's ram's so much you doubt she isn't carrying a couple STDs and maybe rabies too. Although she is very bubbly and cheerful, she just starts so much unnecessary drama with the other animals

Appearance: curly long white hair, pale skin, red eyes, D cup, 120 lbs, 5'6

★opal the Tennessee fainting goat: she's so tiny, and mean. She bit your ass and chest so many times you're always looking around your surroundings before entering the fields. Although recently you discovered a rather popular way to stun her and run away

Appearance: black straight hair (I bet she has split ends), peach colored skin, tiny horns on her head, 90 lbs, 4'10, A cup

★sasha the Australian cashmere goat: Sasha is quiet and stoic, but she doesn't hesitate to step in Incase somebody wants to start a fight. She's Kim's second favorite female (you're the first ofcourse)

Appearance: fluffy platinum blonde hair, pale skin, black eyes, small horns sprout from her head, B cup, 152 lbs, 5'9

★kim the dutch landrace goat: Kim can either be your angle or your debil. Yes that misspelling was intentional. More than once has he tried humping you, even convincing the girls to try and help him, except you keep running away. STOP RUNNING AWAY. Is it so bad he wants to impregnate you with his children!?

Appearance: long silky black-blond hair, bro is ripped, large horns curl around his head, 160 lbs, 5'11, 7 incher

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the-broken-truth · 4 months

Text

The Prince's Precious Brother [2] - Leona Kingscholar [Platonic Yandere] [Male Yuu]

Summary: Yuu Arisugawa is actually Feore Kingscholar, the Prince of Sunset Savannah who was kidnapped 16 years ago. However, Yuu refuses to accept his true identity and insists on living as Yuu Arisugawa. His friends are shocked to discover that the Prefect of Ramshackle is actually the younger brother of Savanaclaw's Dorm Warden. But why is Leona so angry about Yuu's Choice?

[After The Reveal - Crowley's Office]

The golden glowing eyes of the Headmaster of Night Raven College seemed to have widened behind his ask as he looked at the new body of the Prefect of Ramshackle Dorm, Yuu Arisugawa - who recently found his true identity as Feore Kingscholar, 3rd Prince of the Sunset Savannah.

Yuu's hair was dark brown and shoulder length with white tips on the ends of his hair; it was currently tied in a back ponytail, thanks to Vil tying his hair back for him since Yuu wasn't as used to having long hair but he didn't have time to cut it at the moment. Unlike the genetic Kingscholar Emerald Eyes, Yuu's eyes were Sapphire Blue instead of the Coal Black that Yuu had when he first arrived at Night Raven College. Yuu's bare chest and abs were on full display since his shirt was too small to fit after transforming, but his pants were still on, just tighter than before.

Crowley looked Yuu up and down before realization hit his face; he'd been overworking a Prince like a slave. He inhaled and exhaled before speaking to Yuu.

"Well, Mr. Kingscholar, it would seem that..." Yuu stopped Crowley from speaking for a while.

"I am not a Kingscholar. I am Yuu Arisugawa, not whoever the 3rd Prince of the Sunset Savannah is or was. Nothing about me, other than my appearance has changed. I'm just here because I need some larger clothes that would actually fit me. and where I can get a pen of my own to funnel my magic properly." Yuu said before lowering his hand with a soft glare in his eyes.

"Well... There are some larger uniforms in the closet behind you; as for a possible pen, I would have to send in a request for some blank pens into which you can funnel your magic. I'll send the letter and the pens shall be here within 3 days. Can you use your magic without a pen?" Crowley asked.

"It's possible but I am going to need some practice to better control my magic. I can keep my magi under wraps, however, so you don't have to worry about me lashing out at students and possibly hurting them. See you later, Headmaster." Yuu said as he turned on his heel, walked over to the closet in Crowley's Office, and took some larger Savanaclaw Uniforms; they appeared to be the only ones that would fit him but he could do something about the color later when he arrived at Ramshackle. He hoped that Grim wasn't freaking out at the moment to find out he had the blood of a certain cat the chimera couldn't stand.

Yuu walked out of the Headmaster's and instantly bumped into someone, he looked up to apologize and came face to face with the green eyes of Leona.

"Sorry about that, Leona, I wasn't looking where I was going." Yuu said before tucking the clothes under his arm as Leona looked at him with a tender smile; which is weird since Leona would always look at him with a teasing smirk ever since Yuu arrived at Night Raven College.

"It's alright, Feore. I was just coming to speak to the crow about some business." Leona said.

"Yuu." Yuu said, causing Leona to look at him with a raised eyebrow.

"What?" Leona asked.

"I explained it to Crowley and I shall explain it to you: I am Yuu Arisugawa, not Feore Kingscholar." Yuu said.

"What are you talking about You are Feore Kingscholar, The 3rd Prince of the Sunset Savannah. That's who you were born as." Leona said.

"Yuu Arisugawa is who I have been for the past 16 years and that is who I am going to stay as until the day my heart stops beating. I have no intention of changing my name or who I am just because I found out that I am originally from this world and I happened to be linked to the Kingscholar Family by blood. I need to head back to Ramshackle See you later, Leona." With that, Yuu walked down the hall to reach the Hall of Mirrors to reach Ramshackle, leaving Leona standing there with his fangs locked in anger and his fists balled before turning to Crowley's office and slamming the door once he was inside, startling the Headmaster who looked up to face the very pissed off prince.

"Mr. Kingscholar! What can I...?" He was cut off by Leona slamming his hands on the surface of the desk and glaring into Crowley's Golden eyes with his Emerald Green ones; anger evident in his eyes.

"I want you to start a Dorm Transfer, now! My little brother is coming to Savanaclaw with me and he is going to be my Vice Dorm Warden! I want his identity on all of his paperwork and I.D.s to be changed to his real name and I want him to have access to the Kingscholar Account; I have a letter, send it to my home, and have a card delivered here for Feore!" Leona demanded.

"Hm... Welll... I would love to do that, Mr. Kingsholar, but I cannot do that." Crowley said, making Leona even madder.

"Why?" Leona growled out.

"In order for a transfer between dorms to happen, there are several parties involved: the current dorm warden, the possible future dorm warden, and myself. Mr. Arisugawa has indicated that he is not interested in changing anything about his current situation. He has only come here to acquire larger clothes and place an order for a Magic Pen. Although Mr. Arisugawa holds the title of Prefect, he is still technically the Dorm Warden of Ramshackle. If he has no desire to change his position, there is nothing that I can do about it, even if his older relative requests it." Crowley explained.

"Then do something about it! I want Feore in Svanaclaw as soon as possible and if it doesn't happen sooner rather than later, I shall take matters into my own hands, Crowley. Do not test me." Leona said before removing his hands from the desk and marched out of the room towards the Hall of Mirrors to get to the Old Dormitory.

He needed to speak to Feore himself and make him understand that he was the younger brother and needed his older brother's guidance.

He lost Feore once.

He wasn't gonna let that happen again.

[Ramshackle]

"I have to admit, Trickster; altering the Golden Color of Savanaclaw into that lovely shade of Blue really brings out your eyes." Rook said as he watched Yuu use his magic to change the golden color of the Svanaclaw Outfits to a deep blue that matched his eyes,

Yuu looked at himself in the mirror before exhaling and turning around to face the people in the sitting room of Ramshackle; after everything was said and done, all of the other dorm wardens with the exception of Kalim and Leona, along with some of the Vice Dorm Wardens like Rook and Jamil arrived at Ramshackle to check on the one who helped them for so long.

Upon arriving at Ramshackle, Yuu brewed some tea and made some desserts to entertain his guests while he changed his outfits to his liking. Upon arriving into the room, he could smell Jamil in the kitchen [Yes, there is a kitchen in Ramshackle. Small but Functional], while Riddle and his Dorm Mates were enjoying the tea and desserts that Yuu had prepared for him. Vil walked over to Yuu and ran his fingers through Yuu's long dark brown hair.

"I have to say that long hair suits you better now; I have some lovely hair care products that would best aid you in the upkeep of your lovely hair and skin, First Potato." Vil said.

"I thank you, Vil, however, I shall need your hand in learning how to properly use them." Yuu said before sitting on the couch beside Cater who was on MagiCam while recording himself and Yuu's new appearance, telling everyone at Night Raven College that the 'Prefect got an upgrade'. Yuu pinched the bridge of his nose but smiled nonetheless at the fact his friends still saw him as Yuu Arisugawa, not Feore Kingscholar, the 3rd Prince of the Sunset Savannah, or the Younger Brother of Leona Kingscholar. They still saw him as himself and he thanked the Great Seven for that.

Jamil walked out of the kitchen with a plate of food that was composed of meat and vegetables and placed it in front of Yuu before folding his arms and glaring at the Prefect, "You have too much frozen food in there; you need proper meals in your diet, not just the already made stuff you can buy from Sam's Place."

"I know. I know." Yuu said as he stabbed his fork into some of his salad before lifting it to his mouth; just before he could take his first bite...

There was a massive pounding on the surface of the front door of Ramschakle before Ace went to answer the door, before he could ask who it was, Ace was pushed out of the way and Leona stood there with all eyes on him but his eyes were focused on Yuu.

"Feore. We need to talk. Now."

#twisted wonderland #yandere leona kingscholar #platonic yandere #beastman yuu #magic yuu #yandere

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popatochisssp · 5 months

Note

The Court AU has me DEAD!!! If you’d be willing, what sort of outfits would they wear? I’d love to draw them!

Anon, I had so many tabs open looking up medieval-type fashion and armor, we're talking like 30+, felt super awesome finishing this and closing them all 😌

Anyway--

Sans (Undertale): What’s black and blue and white all over? Why, him of course! His jester’s motley features a black-and-white diamond pattern, offset by bright, rich, royal blue—a mark of his service to the king. He doesn’t wear one of those silly hats, though…because he wears a silly hood instead! Less chance of falling off, you see. When not in costume he tends toward simple tunics, of decent material and often still in blue.

Papyrus (Undertale): Almost never out of full plate armor, even in downtime, he has to dress for the job he wants and that means being a shining metal bastion of knightly glory at all times! …Though he does often remove his helmet and hold it by his sword at his hip, or fasten it to his steed’s side. He’s a very handsome skeleton, it would be cruel to deny the people the chance to see their hero’s face!

Sky (Underswap Sans): Soft blues and yellows, as a squire only lightly armored—greaves and pauldrons, a mail shirt beneath his tunic if he’s expected to go into battle—but he considers even that much armoring to be overkill for what he’s doing. Still, his Captain insists, and it makes his brother feel better, so he takes care protecting himself. He has some nicer finery to wear about court, as a nobleman, but tends simpler for anything that might be dirtied or torn in training.

Paps (Underswap Papyrus): Rich green and earthy browns, his clothing tends to be without ostentation—no embroidery, no gold buckles or buttons, or anything especially elaborate. He may be noble but he’s a scholar and a recluse and prefers not to stand out much. Still, the fabrics of which his clothing is made are always fine, as coarse or stiff materials quite put him off. Mostly cottes—long belted tunics—with the occasional robe over, if it's cold.

Jasper (Underfell Sans): Blacks and browns, sturdy plain clothes which can stand up to considerable wear and tear. Often wears a short diamond-quilted gambeson and some leather armor (vambraces and greaves), but always has a sword belted to his hip and a cloak made of dire-wolf’s fur draped over his shoulders. If ever he should need to acknowledge his denounced family name, he does have some finer clothing stored away somewhere—in red—and a shiny gold signet ring with his family crest on it.

Pyre (Underfell Papyrus): Usually in half plate armor, dark metal heavily scratched and scorched, dents meticulously hammered back out. He also wears a tattered red cape about his shoulders that billows quite majestically behind him when he rides or runs into battle. He will occasionally dress down in laced tunics and breeches, still in red and black, fine but not too fine as to raise suspicion about his heritage. Should all that ever come out, he does have a suit of pristine night-black armor he’s been dying to inherit and a silken cape to pin about it with a golden clasp of the family’s crest.

Mal (Swapfell Sans): Mostly black but flaunts his privilege and royal ties with purple accents wherever possible. Brigandine armor with a fine gold-plated gorget and pauldrons and a few other ornamental trappings—he is the Empress’ personal guard and must in some capacity be as elegant. Very fine doublets and tunics for his (rare) downtime, often with gold threading, but not fond of most jewelries.

Rus (Swapfell Papyrus): Dark colors and crisp whites, noble yet eccentric, he has a lot of fine doublets and other such court-wear but tends not to actually…wear them. He can mostly be found in loose-fitting cottes, baggy sleeves often penned up by leather armlets to keep them out of his paints. He has a fur-hooded cloak for travel or cold weather, but he rarely leaves his rooms, much less the castle, so he doesn’t don it often.

Slate (Horrortale Sans): Dark browns and off-white cream, simple rough-hewn clothing showing signs of wear and occasionally odd stains. He works in the stables, with animals, and being around animals so much makes it difficult to keep clean. He has a somewhat decent dark blue cloak that he’ll wear into town for errands, or in polite company—it has a hood to conceal the great jagged hole in his head that tends to make the squeamish or timid flinch away from him.

Papy (Horrortale Papyrus): Still hasn’t quite shaken the habit to be armored, even when it isn’t necessary, but he’s cut down from full plate to chain mail only, much lighter and easier to move around in—which is vital when hurrying to the training field for an accident, or running to meet a wounded knight at the gates. He wears a simple tabard over his mail, blue with red edging (the Queen’s colors), and keeps a pouch of bandages and other aid supplies belted to his waist instead of a sword.

Ash (Undergloom Sans): The livery of the king’s court, gray and gold, but dyed into fabrics suitable for common folk. He still wears gray when not performing at court, tunics so thickly woven they could pass as a gambeson and often paired with hooded cloaks, but he keeps his golds set aside until needed to keep them in good condition. He takes equal care of his shiny brass sackbut (it’s a horn, with a very funny name but an instrument nonetheless) so it always plays well.

Yrus (Undergloom Papyrus): Off-white and tan linens, loose and breathable for hot work in the kitchens, sleeves rolled up and pinned at the elbows to keep them from getting in the way. Always an apron about his waist, occasionally with food stains after a long day’s work but these he quickly tends to as soon as he’s able. He has nothing in the way of real finery but tries very hard to make sure what he has is clean and presentable.

Brick (Horrorfell Sans): Fine brocaded doublets of rich red and shining gold thread, as a duke and brother to a king, he does have to dress the part a bit. He wears more jewelry, especially rings, but nearly always still has his dire-wolf fur cloak over his shoulders. When called for executions, he dresses down quite a bit, in simple black cloth with only a leather pauldron over one shoulder to help brace the weight of his axe before he swings.

King (Horrorfell Papyrus): Half plate armor essentially at all times, even formal or polite occasions—he’s the owner of a stolen throne and all too aware that it could be stolen from him the same way he got it. His breastplate is scaled and his pauldrons are elaborately spiked, but it’s all black. The only pop of color on him is his crown, the same worn by Asgore and Undyne, gold and sharp, with rubies inlaid.

Merc (Horrorswap Sans): Chain mail over a finely-made kaftan and beneath a traveling cloak, the latter two with signs of wear from a long journey. His head is notably absent of a crown—left behind in the kingdom he fled—but a new one awaits him soon, of flashing silver and blue stone, depicting the phases of the moon. When fully established in his new kingdom, he may begin dressing as a proper king again, draping himself in the blue and silver finery of the land that sheltered him.

Ell (Horrorswap Papyrus): Browns, greens, and blacks, he wears light leather armor—really just a breastplate and vambraces—and a thick woolen cloak about his shoulders. He has no need of greaves for his shins, legs lost to an accident in the wilderness, but supplanted by magical prosthetics, living blackened wood provided by his land when he called upon it for aid. …Not that he’s fully accepted that it’s his land, keeping his crown of twisting copper and emerald tucked away in a saddlebag instead of on his brow. Maybe someday…

Pitch (Horrorswapfell Sans): Rich purple and verdant green, amidst a sea of black—he favors very fine fabrics with open lacing at the chest. Still not especially fond of jewelry, but wears considerably more decorative leather braces on forearms, shins, and even the occasional full-chest corset. (He has some chronic pain and the extra pressure and support in certain spots helps.) He wears considerably more plain clothes for knight-training purposes and when traveling wears a black cloak with a cowl that comes down over the hole in his face at a point, as the beak of a raven.

Nemo (Horrorswapfell Papyrus): Usually in half plate splint mail armor for his patrols along the wall, but favors rusty oranges, brown and black for the tunics and boots and breeches he wears out of it. Often carries a lantern, and always has tinder in a pouch on his hip. Beside his pouch is a war-horn in case an alert would need to be called, loud enough to make everyone come running if it’s ever sounded.

Sunny (Gastertale Sans): A cavalierly styled courtier, at first having made do with graciously lent clothing and now being able to buy his own in a whole variety of rich colors—yellow, blue, magenta, and on. His aim is to look at home in court, which means he must dress as other courtiers do, so he has doublets and fine tunics and many, many fashionable capelets with embroidery and stylish pins, as well as a few equally chic plumed hats. The other courtiers look to him now for the latest fashion trends and he couldn’t be happier.

Aster (Gastertale Papyrus): A bit more subdued in style than his brother…though only a bit. He favors black frocks, almost as a cleric would wear, but beneath them, elegant doublets in greens and yellows as vibrant as anything his twin wears, with fine silver filigree work in his buckles and pins and clasps. He’s the pinnacle of restrained class and taste and it’s no wonder at all that the king should respect him so highly if his care in thought is as his care in appearance.

Spectr (Transcendtale Sans): Deep, dark black from head to toe, most prominently a long hooded cloak with two eye-lights glowing in the darkness. He always wears gloves and never lets his hood down, as he’s not especially fond of his metal bones and doesn’t really wish to be seen. It’s difficult to see in the daytime, but at night he’s trailed by faint wisps of ghostly light in all colors of the rainbow, such a strange sight that many a drunkard who’s seen him has poured out their bottle presuming they’d had quite a bit too much.

PapAIrus (Transcendtale Papyrus): Full plate armor, of course, but as he’s now some sort of spectral entity, it (and he!) glows and is slightly see-through. Being ghostly has washed out his colors quite thoroughly which is unfortunate—mostly all white with hints of silvery blue—but on the up-side he seems able to change his appearance some by will alone, donning or discarding his helmet at will, manifesting a majestic cape for himself out of the ether, and so on. It seems a fair enough trade to him!

Xanth (Ascendswap Sans): A man at court now, he’s donned an eye-patch and abandoned the trappings of prospective knighthood, fully embraced courtier fashion…if a bit ‘eccentrically.’ He favors bright yellows and spring greens, flowing garments of fine cloth layered beneath and over leather vambraces, gorget, and tasset. All these are elaborately, intricately designed and certainly make the similarly intricate gold jewelry (with multicolored gems) that he wears at wrist and neck stand out, but it’s hardly in fashion… Still, the mystic’s thinking is often inscrutable.

Piper (Ascendswap Papyrus): Unlike his brother, very fashionable and eye-catching, in rich amaranths and brilliant turquoises, with even the occasional lavender. He has many fine embroidered doublets, threaded liberally with gold, and wears many pieces of gold jewelry as well—necklaces, bracelets, pins, and brooches. When showing the birds of the crown at court or bidding them on a royal hunt, he wears the livery of the crown-proper—royal purple and gold—and always has a thick leather falconer’s glove on his left hand.

Carmine (Underfell Fruition Sans): What’s black and white and red all over? Well, newspapers haven’t been invented yet, so it’s him, of course! He’s no jester so he hasn’t a motley to wear to work, but he is a performer and does dress in the livery of the king, which is red and black. The material is a bit finer than he’s used to, but being that he’s no longer wearing rags and rotting in a hole, he’s quite pleased with it and doesn’t mind the bright colors that help him attract the eyes of many comely nobles at court. Off-duty, he sticks to loose, somewhat open tunics—red still very much preferred.

Tank (Underfell Fruition Papyrus): Laced linen shirts, not especially loosely fitting due to his largeness in the chest and shoulders but he hasn’t burst any seams in awhile so the measurements must be somewhat correct. He’s fond of white and a true connoisseur of red, all shades from dark to very light. He keeps an array of small carpentry tools—hammers, chisels, things for measuring—in a roll on his hip, a dedicated apprentice to the core.

Vi (Swapfell Fruition Sans): All black, pourpoint armor beneath fine silk doublets but almost disappointingly plain otherwise—no embroidery, no ornament, or stitched pattern, or brocade. Over this he wears a cloak, equally fine and with at least some ostentation, a bit of silver stitched decoration that matches the intimidatingly clawed silver gauntlet he wears upon his left hand—a symbol of his wealth, if not his status. These flashy items are for matters of court only, as he has a much more nondescript hooded cloak and less identifiable sharp implement which he uses for matters of stealth and misdeeds when it is important that he not be recognized.

Hunter (Swapfell Frution Papyrus): A prince in princely attire…mostly. He happily flaunts the color purple but proudly wears it with the black of his old family name, and drapes himself in silk tunics, fine (mostly decorative) pauldrons, capes and capelets. He tends to show off a bit more of his chest than seems appropriate for a man of his station, and seems to wear his elegant silver jewelry in ways such that the eye is drawn there, and…other places, but few question the whims of royalty. His pewter crown is heavy and inelegant and he’s talked much with his brother about how angry people would be if he had it melted and recast into something more stylish.

Kohl (Descendtale Sans): Plain, rough tunics, in black and dark brown. He wears a heavy fur-lined gabardine as it gets quite cold in the dungeons, though it’s uncertain where he managed to get such a nice garment. He keeps a knife on his belt, large and jagged-toothed, and though he hasn’t had need to use it yet, the threat of it tends to keep most prisoners from attempting to bring him harm.

Bram (Descendtale Papyrus): He’s traded in his full plate armor for a comfortably fit leather jerkin, accompanied by matching gauntlets to protect his hands and torso (inasmuch as they need protection, without flesh) from the thorns he trims back every day. He mostly wears black and white and brown, all things closely fit to his body, less they snag overmuch and need to be replaced too often. His clothing is simple but well-suited to his work, and he wears it nicely.

#anonymous #headcanons #court au #undertale #underswap #underfell #swapfell/fellswap #horrortale #undergloom #horrorfell #horrorswap #horrorswapfell #gastertale #transcendtale #ascendswap #underfell fruition #swapfell fruition #descendtale

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crazyforteyam · 1 year

Text

Metkayina Tales (part one) -

Catch My Breath

Neteyam x f!Metkayina reader summary : After Sully's family arrived at Metkayina for seeking sanctuary, Neteyam couldn't help himself as he is completely smitten by you. warnings : none, Neteyam being shy and goofy, Lo'ak being Lo'ak lol word count : 4,5k notes : all characters are aged up (18+) inspired by this song series masterlist

“Mother, wait!”

Your voice breaks out of the tense between Ronal and Neytiri. The crowd began to split and you walked between them. At a glance, you looked like the other Metkayina girl. But as soon as you walk, it is clear that you have several physical differences.

Your skin color is turquoise, but it appears lighter than the other. Instead of black, your long wavy hair is filled with dark brown, with the half top braided and the rest just hanging effortlessly. A dark green tattoo is located outside your outer eye and your forehead. Big dark blue pendant hanging between your collarbone, connected to your shell-like top, and a tiny pocket tied to your hips.

It is clear that you radiate a different aura from the other Metkayina. The clan has its eyes glued on your presence, and the Sully family is not an excuse.

Especially the oldest Sully son, Neteyam. He noticed directly that you are alluring and his heart fluttered at that moment. You smiled at the Sully family, and Jake greets you. His family followed him and you returned their greetings. You walk straight to your parents, Ronal and Tonowari.

“What is it, Y/N?” Your mom asked.

“Mom, I saw them, when I was praying to Eywa,”

“What did you see?”

“Their arrival. Besides, it’s the tradition to preserve uturu,”

“Are you sure?” Tsahik seems in disbelief.

“Never been so sure before,” You answered clearly, there was no doubt in your voice, and your eyes radiate honesty. As the first Olo’eyktan’s child, you have an important position in the clan and sure your words can’t be ignored.

Tsahik's eyes shifted to Olo’eyktan. They looked at each other and finally made a decision.

“The Sully family will stay with us. They will be like babies, so teach them the way of the ocean, to prevent them from being useless,”

A relieved feeling appear on Jake’s face, as he said “Thank you.”

Olo’eyktan continued his speech as he points at you, Aonung, and Tsireya.

“This is my children. Y/N, Ao’nung, and Tsireya. They will show your children what to do.”

Ao’nung confronted his father while Tsireya greeted the Sullys. You, however, still in your position, smiled at the Sully family as your gaze meet them one by one.

As the Sully family passes by, you look at your father and asked, “Dad, what about tomorrow’s plan? Will the celebration still be held?”

“Of course,” Tonowari answered and his body shifted into yours. “Tomorrow, you must spread the invitation to all the people. For today, prepared the equipment,”

“Okay, dad,” you replied, and went back to your pod.

As you walked, you can see that Sully family's arrival created a new atmosphere at Awa’atlu. Children began to approach Tuk, but their mom pull them back. The adults murmured, and many eyes observed the way forest Navi looks, especially with their dark blue skin and a small tail. You walk past those people and enter your pod.

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

“Sully’s stick together,”

You can hear their voice, and as you want to enter Sully’s pod, you seek permission.

“Excuse me, am I bothering you? I want to deliver the news, from the Olo’eyktan,”

When you said that, six pairs of yellow eyes shifted their glance at you.

Jake said, “Not at all, Y/N. What is the news?”

“Tonight, we will have a celebration. A tradition, actually. And as you are all now part of Metkayina, so you all are invited. Olo’eyktan will be happy if you all come.”

“Of course, thank you for your invitation. My family and I will attend,” Jake replied with a smile on his face.

“Where is the location, of this celebration?” A deep voice breaks the silence. On the right side of Jake, it is Neteyam, the older son who is asking. He is the tallest child for sure, with long braided hair and a broad figure. His head tilted when he looked at you, like studying your expressions.

“At the Hope Cove. It's where we usually held a party. Also, there will be some traditions too. Our sacred tales. And you can taste our finest food.” You answered him with a slight smile, then he said thank you. You look at the rest of the family, but it seems like no one wants to speak again. So you take a step back.

“Okay, pardon me, I have to leave. There are still plenty of people to be told.” You smiled and wave to them goodbye as you leave their pod.

Jake then went with Neytiri, while Tuk and Kiri followed them. So it remained Lo’ak and Neteyam alone. Lo’ak then looked at his brother.

Several minutes ago, it is Neteyam who teased Lo’ak about how he must behave at this new home. But now he found Neteyam's eyes glued to you, how your body walks, your hair swings, and how you smile when you spread the news to other people. His gaze never left your figure. Lo’ak raised his eyebrow upon noticing his brother's new attitude.

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

That night, Hope Cave was filled with decorations. The celebrations started, and everybody sat in a circle, including the Sully family, who was trying to blend in with the locals. In the middle of the circle is the Olo’eyktan family. People chatted with each other. The Olo’eyktan himself, Tonowari, cleared his throat and then his voice echoed in the cave, silencing everyone.

“Tonight, we celebrate the birth of Y/N. My eldest daughter, a gift from Eywa to Metkayina. Years ago, when I and Ronal haven’t been blessed with children, we prayed to Eywa, seeking a way out to save an heir to this clan. Months passed, and the Great Mother finally showed us Her Greatness.

When our Tsahik is praying in her pod, suddenly a baby arose from the sea, a beautiful baby girl. Eywa gave her several physical differences, but I bear no mind. Her birth remarks a new hope and grace for Metkayina. As long as we have her, our clan is safe for sure. She is a miracle, the goddess incarnation, one that cares deeply for others!”

You walked in from behind the circle, and a blush appeared on your cheek. Your father always says the sweetest thing. Your body is decorated with beautiful jewels. Thousands of pairs of eyes looking at you while your feet stepped toward him, and he held your hand.

“Let’s pray for Eywa for the peace and prosperity She has bestowed upon our clan!”

Tsahik then stood up and sing a tune, a hymn of worship to Eywa. The crowd followed her, and the cave then slowly filled with a bioluminescent glow, shone from the dome and ground. The glow then faded away as the hymn stopped.

“This is amazing,” Lo’ak who is sitting next to Neteyam, chuckled in amazement.

“Yes,” Neteyam agreed.

“She is amazing, I think?” Lo’ak pointed with his eyes, to the person who Neteyam laid his eyes on. He couldn’t get his eyes off you, who is now sitting beside Olo’eyktan in the middle of the circle. Your brown hair seems to glow in the dark and radiates warmness, looks so different from another. Lo’ak smirked, he catches his brother looking at you, again.

“Seems like the mighty warrior has a crush on someone,”

“Lo’ak,” Neteyam warned in a deep tone. “Don’t tease me now,”

“Oh, I won’t. Besides, I agree with you. The girls here are gorgeous, bro,” Lo’ak whispered, and he then smiled at the other girl. Tsireya, the other chief’s daughter. She lowered her head, blushing shyly after seeing Lo’ak.

Neteyam rolled his eyes. His brother is such a rizz master.

Olo’eyktan raised his hands as he spoke again, continuing the traditions.

“Now, let my daughter bless us with the blessed water. Come, Y/N,”

You step forward, and you bring an antique bottle in your hand, filled with water that was blessed before by Tsahik. As usual, your job is to sprinkle the water on everyone's face, say their name, and a short prayer to Eywa. Starting from your family, then the rest of the clan. As now the Sullys are part of the clan, so you did the same to them, making a way toward them slowly.

“Bro, she’s coming. Get ready,” Lo’ak elbowed his brother.

“Ssh,” Neteyam mumbled.

You finally stand in front of the Sullys. Jake is the first, he says thank you, while Neytiri nodded in response. Neteyam is next, as he is the older child. He gulped nervously, feeling butterflies in his stomach. You stand in front of him, and he feels his legs weakened like turned into jelly.

“What is your name?” Your soft voice sounds like a melody to him.

“Neteyam,” He answered. His eyes sparkled when he look at you.

“Neteyam,” You repeat his name, then sprinkled the sacred water into his face and said the prayer. Neteyam wants to respond so badly, but his tongue like tied inside. Instead of thank you, he slipped out some gibberish sound. You raised your eyebrow, but then you chuckled. He shook his head helplessly and finally found his voice, “T-thank you, Y/N,”

Lo’ak instantly laughed but he covers his mouth when he saw Neytiri glare at him. But she can see that something is happening with Neteyam, and she shared a knowing look with Jake. Kiri rolled her eyes and Tuk seems smitten by you also. You smiled at Neteyam, then passes to bless the other siblings. Tuk is happy, she giggled when the water sprinkled into her face. When the ritual finished, you walked back to your father. Then Olo’eyktan declared, “Now it’s time for dancing and feast! Enjoy, everybody!”

The crowd stood up, and some of them walked in pairs, ready for dancing, as the music started to play. While the others approached the food served on top of the longleaf.

“Bro, what was that?” Now Lo’ak finally can laugh out loud, shooking his head in disbelief. Neteyam didn’t respond anything, his hand rubbed the back of his neck as he lowered his blushed face, feeling completely shy and idiot.

“You like her, don’t you?” Lo’ak asked him again.

“Stop it, skxawng,” his brother grumbled, but Lo’ak keep talking. “You know, you should ask her for a dance. Make a move, bro!” Lo’ak hand patted Neteyam's arm, trying to give him some courage. Then he saw Tsireya, and he approached her in a glance, talking with her, completely forgetting about his brother.

Neteyam shook his head, realizing how different is Lo’ak from himself. But a slight smile curled on his lips then. Maybe he can approach you and talk to you? His eyes trying to find you. But it’s hard, with all the people moving and talking.

Finally, he saw you, sitting on a rock alone. He walked to you, but then a man approached you first, his hands reaching yours. That man looks fine with toned body and tattoo around his arm, clearly one of the Metkayina’s warriors. You accepted his offer, and dance with him. Neteyam sighed. He waited for you to finish your dance with the man, but then another man also approached you again.

Neteyam frowned, he finally gets back to his family, while Kiri and Tuk are trying some food. He sat beside them, but sometimes he steal a glance in your direction. He feels so insecure inside. Who is he, thinking to be able to dance with the prettiest girl in Metkayina? He even couldn’t talk clearly to you. He is not a Metkayina warrior, he is just a newcomer. You’re out of his league. Maybe he has to bury his feeling inside.

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

Neteyam grumbled as he took a step outside his family’s pod. His lips are bleeding, and his elbow and knuckles are injured due to his previous fight with Ao’nung and his skxawng bunch. But the physical pain remains nothing to a thing deeper inside. He feels tired and exhausted.

Since he was born, there are so many things that he has to carry on his shoulder. He remembers he trained hard to be the future Oloyektan with his father, and then suddenly his family have to move to this reef clan. Neteyam feels puzzled when he left the forest, as he loves it dearly. He loves to hunt with his bow, climb the trees, and fly with his ikran.

Honestly, he finds the sea nauseating. Everything is so different, and he always prefers to ride an ikran rather than ilu or tsurak. Flying is his favorite thing to do, not swimming. But the sad truth is, being the oldest son, Neteyam must always put the other's needs above his. He always covers all his feeling deep inside. Kiri and Tuk already showed some dislike for the sea and Neteyam could not burden his parents by showing that he hates the sea too. Lo’ak always makes trouble, and it frustrated him.

Metkayina people are always either judging, mocking, or bullying his family. Neteyam walked fast between the villages, his shoulder is tense and there is a crease on his forehead. People looked at him but he didn’t pay any attention. He keeps walking until reaches the end of the Awa’atlu village. It is a beautiful coast actually, with the sun meeting the sea and palm tree leaves waves. But Neteyam’s mood is still ruined, and he shoves a stone into the sea in anger.

“Ow!” The stone hit somebody who is swimming down the sea, and Neteyam began to panic. He dipped his feet into the water and reached the sound. You emerged from the water right in front of him, with an annoyed face and your hand rubbing the back of your head.

Neteyam's eyes widened, he never thought that he will hit you, his crush. Actually, the only thing about the reef people that he finds amusing is you, but with you busy with Tsahik training with Ronal makes he rarely sees you. To meet you in this condition is kinda embarrassing for him.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I shoved the stone recklessly, and I don’t know you were swimming down there. Is it hurt?” Neteyam asked softly and came to you.

You scowled and sighed. “Luckily for you, the stone didn't hit my head directly. It just went through the back of my head.”

“Let me check your head,” Neteyam walked passes you, and now he is behind you. He places his hand gently at the back of your head then he sighed in relief. “There is no injury,”

“Yes,” You responded, and turn around, now facing Neteyam.

You are not annoyed anymore. Honestly, you were quite touched by how responsible and gentle he was. You can feel that he completely feels sorry. Then your eyes saw his lips, the bleed was still there. Also, his elbow and knuckles are wounded.

“Actually, it is you that injured. What happened?” Your brow furrowed at the sight of the blood on his lips and you held his fingers closely, examining the wound at his knuckles.

Neteyam pulled his fingers from yours as he spoke, “It’s okay. Nothing to worry about,”

“Neteyam, I am tsakarem, Tsahik in training, a healer. I will clean and take care of your wound,” you replied.

“No, truly. I will take care of myself,” Neteyam wears a slight smile on his face.

You shook your head. “No. A healer doesn't leave without healing an injured person. Come with me.”

Your hand grips his fingers tightly. Neteyam couldn’t move at your action, so he followed you to the beach and you both sit facing each other. You began to wash the wound on his knuckles and elbow, and put some paste on it. The paste is always there, inside a little pocket hanging on your waist. And for Neteyam’s lips, you washed them with a small cloth. Then you pat the cloth gently to get rid of the blood.

Without your knowledge, Neteyam feels very nervous yet happy, very different from the moments before when he was angry. Now here is he, sitting at the beach with you taking care of his wounds. His eyes follow your movement, as they can’t hide the admiration he feels for you. Relax man, he whispers to himself.

“Done,” You finished your job, but you are still curious. “So, how did you get hurt?”

Neteyam cleared his throat. If he tells you the truth, will you believe him? Especially about Ao’nung behavior. “It’s nothing. I slipped on the edge of slippery rock,”

You chuckled. “Don’t lie to me. This kind of wound is caused by either fighting or collision.”

Neteyam sighed in defeat. “Sorry. Actually, I was fighting with some Metkayina boys. They mocked Kiri. I tried to break them up, but Lo’ak is still angry so he punched the boys.” He shrugs. “So I don't have any other chance than to join the fight. Until my father came,”

You realize that he didn’t mention the doer. “Who were the boys?”

He looked at you as he try to gather all the courage inside him. He wants to lie, knowing that you are Ao’nung’s older sister and he doesn’t want to make the conditions worsened. It's already worse with Lo’ak attacked on Ao’nung.

But when he saw your eyes, he couldn't do anything. It's like all his strength weakened when he saw your light blue eyes, similar to the ocean. He knows it's not wise to leave himself so open, but he is hopeless anyway. Finally, he began to talk, “Ao’nung, and some of his friends. But I didn’t know all their name.”

You took a deep breath. “It’s okay. Ao’nung could be reckless sometimes. I’m sorry for his bad behavior,”

“I’m sorry for Lo’ak’s behavior too. He gets angry easily,” Neteyam reciprocated.

Unexpectedly to him, you laughed. The confusion spread on his face as you talked, “Look at us. Older siblings always have to take the blame. You know, Ao’nung is such a mischievous boy. He once took all the strings and needles from my mom’s room, as he want to make a necklace. Then he created a necklace similar to mine and put it on my mom’s table along with the stuff he stole before, so she thought it was me who was guilty. She scolded me, but Eywa blessed me as Ao’nung’s short hair was left in the needle. Then he gets his punishment, not to touch strings and needles for a month.”

Neteyam rejoiced and was no longer nervous, he laughed at your story. “Similar to mine. Lo’ak want to go in the middle of war while we were instructed just to be a spotter above. I took the blame, but my dad still banned him from flying on his ikran. Poor Lo’ak, he cried almost every night,”

You giggled. “Our brothers are stupid, yes. But I think we will still love them, are we?”

“Yes,” Neteyem nodded. A warm feeling entered his chest. Moments ago, he feel that no one will ever relate to his condition. But now he found someone who is sharing the same burden, at least to one similar condition, older siblings who always have to put an eye on their reckless younger brother. His lips curled in a smile, he was no longer feeling pain.

“By the way. I want to cook some meals. Would you care to join me? You must be hungry after fighting” You offered him.

Neteyam shook his head. But then a growling sound came from his stomach. You burst into a laugh again, “You are hungry indeed,” and Neteyam accepted your invitation, with a sheepish smile on his face.

It seems that Eywa always makes him look embarrassed in front of you. Or, maybe this is his destiny indeed? Neteyam thought that as you both went to your pod.

You entered your pod. It was small but cozy, connected with a larger pod on the right, your family pod, the largest in the village, consisting of all the Tsahik and Oloyektan pieces of equipment.

But your own is filled with your belongings only, some healer's stuff, a bed, and a small kitchen. Neteyam also notices a bottle full of gold liquid, sealed in a box, which looks like it’s important stuff. You see his face filled with curiosity when he saw the bottles, so you approached him.

“It’s our sacred water, called tsarki. Very powerful, it can heal any person whatever their conditions are. It’s very rare to get, and my mother always reminds me to use it in a crucial moments only. So, I keep it safe in my box,” you explained to him, as he nodded.

You went to the kitchen as he sat on the carpet. You bring the food, the grilled fish. Both of you eat, and he praises your cooking. After eating, suddenly a woman appears in your pod, with a baby in her arms. Panic can be seen on her face.

“Y/N, can you help me? My son, Ihaka, is ill. He has trouble breathing. I tried to go to Tsahik, but Olo’eyktan said that she is still on the ocean, and ordered me to go to you instead,”

“Of course,” you smiled, trying to calm her, as you carried the baby, “Let me see him,”

At a glance, Ihaka seems like a normal baby, but if you observe the way he is breathing, it’s clear that he has a problem there. You lay down Ihaka and took some massage oil. You start to massage his upper body, with your hands on his shoulders, making gentle strokes towards his chest. He is still coughing, but the pain seemed to have lessened. You bring him close to your chest. His eyes finally closed in sleep, and you put him again on the bed.

“There he is,” you smiled at his mother, and continue your words, “I’ll give you some potions, and he must drink it every day, to help cure his problem,” His mother nodded in pleasure. But when you step towards your medicine stuff, Ihaka is awake again. You reach him again, but Neteyam asked, “Can I help? I know some tricks to keep baby asleep,”

Ihaka’s mother seems hesitant, but you were curious. You nodded and give him permission. Neteyam carried Ihaka's tiny body in his arms, as his hands caress his cheek gently. Neteyam then sang a song, that seems like a lullaby tune. He sang it slowly, brushing the hair on Ihaka's forehead and gently swinging him. You never heard the lullaby before, but it seems to work on Ihaka. He closed his eyes again, sleeping soundly, even snoring softly.

You raised your eyebrow, “Seems like you are an expert with babies,”

Neteyam grinned, as he speak in a low voice, avoiding waking Ihaka, “I have 3 siblings, what do you expect?” then he put Ihaka back again on his mother’s arm. You gave her Ihaka’s medicines, and she expresses her gratitude by saying lots of thank you, bowed for you and Neteyam, and leaving your pod.

“It was beautiful, the lullaby you sang before,” you now speak to Neteyam, as a new feeling crawls inside you, impressed by him.

Neteyam chuckled, “My mom always sings that song when she put her children to sleep. As I’m the oldest, she taught me a lot about handling babies, so I can help her just in case,”

“That’s very nice,” you replied. “You’re a good big bro for sure,”

Neteyam blushed hearing your compliments, feels like he is on cloud nine. He couldn’t believe that his crush is saying sweet things to him! He couldn’t stop smiling when he walked back home.

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

Tomorrow, he came again to your pod. You both are sitting face to face. It is afternoon time, the sun shone lazily and the wind blows gently into your room, making your room curtains made of seashells rub against each other and create a melodious sound.

"Tell me a story about your parents," You asked Neteyam, as you grip his hands. You spend this day with Neteyam listening to your story about how your day went with the Tsahik training. So in exchange, you want him to tell the stories about his people.

Neteyam quirked his eyebrow.

"My parents? The Toruk Makto thing? I think you already know it,"

You rolled your eyes. He noticed a few of your hair strands fell on your face as you did that.

"Not the Toruk Makto stuff. Tell me their story far before it, right from when your dad visited Pandora for the first time."

"Ow." Neteyam realized as he questioned, "You sure? It's quite a long story,"

You nodded, and then he started talking again.

"When I was still a kid, my family always gathered in our hammock and embraced each other. I remember my mom telling a story about when she first met my father. He is still a dream walker, spending his last hour trying to run away from thanator with his shirt ripped, and a few scratches on his body.

On the opposite, mom is ready to shoot him with her arrow. Nevertheless, a sign of Atokirina landing at her bow prevented her. Later, when he is attacked by viper-wolfes, mom saved him, although she is still displeased with his presence. But father said that it’s love at the first sight," Neteyam stopped, a big grin created on his face. "Such a dad joke. Little does he know, that Eywa destined them to be together, right from their first meeting."

And so, Neteyam tells the whole story of the dynamics of his parent's relationship, which seems like enemies to lovers' journey. Jake faces many difficulties and choices, which side is he on? But sure Eywa gave her a path, as Jake decided to lead the war against RDA, and return with victory. In the end, Jake is converted into his Navi body and started a family with Neytiri, the woman that he truly loves.

You sighed. "It's a beautiful story."

"Thank you," Neteyam responded. "I always think that my dad is a lover, he is willing to risk everything to be with my mom. While my mom is a fighter, she fought against her parent's view to be with him, and also fight to protect the clan,"

"No," You cut him. He seems confused, and then you spoke again. "You can't separate a lover and a fighter. If you're a lover, you have to be a fighter. Because if you don't fight for your love, what kind of love do you have?"

Neteyam doesn't say a word in response, but you feel his eyes fixated on yours. As you tilt your head and try to question him, you realized that his eyes are shining, with a yellow and green glow with a gentle look. You can't help yourself as you drown in his eyes and keep staring back at him, as he gives you a smile.

"You're right." Finally, he breaks the silence, but his gaze still fell on your face as he spoke again. "A lover must fight for who they love."

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

notes : to be continued soon! :D

this is my first attempt to write fanfiction and english isn't my first language. i'll be very happy if you leave a reaction, lmk what you think of my writings! :)

809 notes · View notes

gojo-mochi · 7 months

Note

mmm softy for your LOVELY event gimme that vampire! sabo pleaseee🙏🏼 he’s my gentleman 🥹 even tho he bites when I don’t behave BSBEJEJBDBDB—

CW: Fem!Reader wearing a dress, blood sucking (of course), bit of manipulation and dub-con but reader is into it, P/V, sort of voyeurism?, Vampire!Sabo, Part of my Kinktober event!

3.8k words (GOD WHAT HAPPENED HERE)

A/N: I don't know what happened at the end of this.. I blacked out.. Blame sabo..

Realizing your cup was empty you went to the bar area in the kitchen to refill, knowing that you won’t survive this party without some sort of vice. You shuffle pass dancing and drunk bodies, reaching the kitchen with minimum damage. You huff out, rolling back your shoulders and stretching a little, happy to finally have some breathing room. There were a few others also in the kitchen, some trying to flirt (unsuccessfully) and others coming and going to refill their drink of choice.

The usual suspects were there, the plastic tub full of a bright color liquid mixture, various cheap bottles of vodka and tequila laying around, and… wine? Was there someone really drinking wine at this party? Yes there was, and he was in a very historial looking vampire outfit as well. Slightly curly blonde hair underneath a black top hat with goggles around the middle, a long black coat with the inner lining being a dark red color and the iconic high collar, a ruffled white satin poet blouse underneath the coat, and all finished with a dark blue high-waisted pants and high buckled boots to match.

Not to mention, the obvious fangs poking out from his pretty pale lips that completed this whole outfit. He swirls around some dark red colored liquid in his wine glass as well, his tongue delicately sticking out just a little as he goes to drink his wine. Obviously it's just wine, no one would be insane enough to bring and drink actual blood just for a costume party right? That you want to believe at least, not realizing that you've been openly ogling at this man all this time.

Only when your eyes came back up to his face did you realize that he was also staring directly at you, his lips tugs back into a charming smile, his gloved hands; ‘Holy shit, he’s wearing black gloves too?! That just added to his hotness factor.’ reaches two fingers out to you, pointing at you once then motioning to himself in a “Come hither” fashion. You crushed the red solo cup in your hand as you felt butterflies fly up from your stomach at this simple gesture. Your body moved automatically soon after, like it was under a spell.

Stepping right up to the blonde vampire, his hand now cupping your chin so you were forced to stare deeply in his red eyes.. ‘Wait red…? I thought he had dark brown eyes…..?’ Your thoughts slowly start to slip away from you, only to slam back in when you hear a polished and low voice whisper to you. “And who might you be, my delectable little snack?” Your eyes widen and you step back away from the stranger. Your head spins a little, causing your body to sway back right in the arms of the stranger.

“Easy there, can’t have you passing out on me already. I didn’t even get to do anything fun yet.” He chuckles, his hands smoothing over your shoulders and resting on the small of your back. You felt oddly safe in this position, usually by now you would have grabbed the nearest bottle and tried to smash over the guy’s head. Instead you just wanted to snuggle deeper, inhaling his scent of wine, a bite of leather, and something coppery at the end. You glance up when he brushes some hair away from your face, his eyes seemingly back to normal now… he smiles wide at you, showing off his very pearly white fangs.

“Well, are you going to tell me your name, pretty one? Or would you rather prefer to be called ‘My little snack’ this whole night, hmm?” His tone was light and airy, with a hint of mischief behind it. Feeling back to normal now yourself, you decide to have a little fun with this stranger. “Isn’t it rude to ask for someone else's name when you haven’t even told me your name first?” You tutted back, feeling bold, poking at his fluffy shirt collar, accidentally feeling up how much muscle he was hiding underneath.

He laughs quite loudly, wiping away some tears, his smile only getting wider as he apologizes to you. “Ah forgive me, the name’s Sabo.” He gingerly takes your hand in his and plants a kiss on the top of your hand, letting his fangs graze over your skin for a bit. You shudder at the feeling of his fangs almost breaking into your skin, the sensation made your skin burn even though Sabo felt strangely cold. Was it normal for a person's lips to be that freezing cold you wondered.

Pushing down the thought when Sabo tugs on your wrist as he awaits for your answer, you slip away from him. Twirling around and turning your head back towards him, a playful grin on your own face. “Ah sorry, Sabo. I still think you gotta work a bit more if you wanna know my name~” Sabo’s eyes twinkle, he drowns the remaining drink in his wine glass and sets it away, licking his lips and chuckling at your cute antics. “Oh~? And what do you have in mind for me to do, my little snack?” The way he said snack made you pause for a bit, thinking that he really meant it literally.

Still you press on, finally finding something fun to do at this party and you didn’t want it to end so fast. You danced around the kitchen counter, back to the crowd of dancing bodies; “Give me a five minute head start, I’ll go hide somewhere in the mansion and you have to come find me. Let's say… thirty-minute timer?” You purr out, not letting him answer before you went and disappeared in the crowd. Your heart beats wildly as you think of places to hide from Sabo.

Weaving through the crowd as you make your way to the stairs, going up to the second floor of the mansion and picking an empty room to hide in. After opening a few doors that were already occupied, some of them even asked you if you wanted to join in the fun. You went to sit on the bed in the empty room you chose, giggling to yourself like a schoolgirl. Kicking your feet out as you await for Sabo, wondering if he would find you in this huge mansion during the time limit. Maybe you would be nice after the time limit was up and give Sabo your name anyway.

This game was only a fun way to tease him after all, it's not like you didn’t find the man attractive, charming, and curiously alluring in a sense that you couldn’t take your eyes off of him at first look. So you waited, tapping away at your phone and watching the time tick by. What you didn’t know was that Sabo knew where you were this whole time, his eyes never leaving your body as you left him alone in the kitchen. He did wait five minutes, using his powers to track down your scent among all the others in the party. It was quite easy, since your scent was the most delicious thing he ever smelt so far.

As soon as the five minutes were over he moved silently and swiftly, erasing his presence completely from the other party goers as he followed your scent upstairs. His anger flaring up a bit as that scumbag tried to invite you in, but he held firm, he could deal with that guy later. He didn’t want to ruin this fun game you made for him after all. He watched as you found a room to hide in, softly sighing and smiling at your cuteness. If he had a beating heart he bet it would be beating for you right now.

Ignoring the other drunk and horny people on the floor, Sabo opened a window and flew out to the air. Making sure his presence was still erased and hidden as he flew around to the window of your room. Floating in the air as he watches you giggle to yourself, oh how precious you were. So innocent and unaware of his true nature, of the trap you put yourself into. So he waits and watches as you play around on your phone, your eyes and body twitching around, looking at the door, awaiting for his arrival.

His breathing gets faster and faster as time ticks by, he didn’t want to show up too early, but his hunger was growing deeper and deeper by the second as well. The blood he brought to the party tasted like sewer spill as soon as he caught a whiff of your scent on his tongue. Some drool threatened to leak out as he continued on watching you, still he wanted to make a dramatic entrance, waiting til the last minute of the countdown to open the window without a sound.

Your eyes were glued to the door so you didn't notice Sabo sneaking up behind you, his hands coming to hold your waist and grasp on your throat lightly. Only to come up over your mouth to muffle your startled scream. “Hey! Hey, it’s just me!” He pulls you closer, his grip on you tighter a bit, his voice going at a lower tone, his eyes flicking back to that strange color once more. “Calm down now, shush…shush….good girl.” Your body forcibly relaxes, flopping backwards into Sabo’s arms and chest. His hand now stroking at your head like one would on a pet.

Soothingly rubbing at your scalp, as the spell on you wears off. Your eyes blinking as your mind pieces itself back together to the present once again. “Sabo..? Sabo..! What the-!” You scramble off of him, clutching a hand over your racing heart. “How the hell did you-?! I mean! I was looking at the door this whole time?!” Awwww~ You looked like a scared little rabbit, it was honestly quite cute. The way you think your little glare would deter him in any way.

His fangs seem even bigger and sharper than before as he openly laughs at you, his gloved hand coming up to cover some of this laughter as he throws his head back. “Surprised! Did you miss me while I was gone~?” He laughs out once more, closing the distance between you two. “Now that I won the game, I should get my prize right~?” He lifted up your chin with one finger, his dazzling smile made your stomach flip. Your breath hitches in your throat as his scent was heavier and overwhelming you now.

You gulped down your fear and stared right back at him; “I think you cheated somehow. There’s no way I wouldn’t notice you coming in here!” You cross your arms and huff, your mind is reeling trying to make sense of what just happened, desperately trying to ignore the lingering voice in the back of your mind saying, “Maybe he’s not human..” Sabo's face drops at your reaction, his fingers grasp on to your throat now, squeezing on it enough to restrict your airway.

A low growl escapes his throat as a choked gasp leaves yours. “Little snack… I think the games are over now, you shouldn’t test my patience like that.” He leans in over your shoulder, loosening his grip on your throat so you could speak. “Sa-Sabo?” You squeaked out, only for Sabo to shush you, exhaling his cold breath over your pulse point. “I think you deserve a punishment for not following thru on your word.” You didn’t have the chance to question what he meant as he promptly sank his fangs into your neck.

Blood gushing out in rapid successions, all quickly lapped away by Sabo, his freezing tongue sort of soothes the searing pain that you felt as your blood was being sucked away. Sabo groaned loudly, the timbre of it sending shockwaves down your core, your taste was the sweetest syrup that ever graced his tongue. Your hands dug into his biceps as he kept on draining you, small stifle gasps of pleas fell from your lips but Sabo was too gone to hear them. Your taste was divine and he wanted… no he needed more, only when he heard a soft whimper of his name did he finally let go.

Retracting his fangs, licking at the small puncture he left, pressing his bloodied lips on your cheek as he smiles cheekily at you. “Ah… maybe that punishment was a bit too much.” He chuckles out, rubbing the back of his head, his other arm coming down to swoop around your waist. “Let me make it up to you, my little snack.” You were still recovering from the sudden blood loss when Sabo lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his own waist as he started to walk to the window. His arm on your back pushing you close to his chest.

When he stepped one foot on the windowsill, the cold night air hitting your face, only then did you start to scream and thrash around in his arms. “Sabo! I’m sorry for not telling you my name! But that doesn't mean you can just drop me off the second floor like this!” Your arms were nearly choking him out from how hard you were squeezing him. He still laughed at you though, your struggling did little to hinder him, his second foot coming up on the windowsill now.

You closed your eyes shut and waited for your impending doom and fall, waiting and waiting… and nothing. No fall, no crushing of bones, no cartoonish splat sound, just the silent night air blowing softly on your skin. You peek your eyes open to find Sabo happily smiling at you, looking down you see the party goers mingling about. No idea that two people were flying up above them. “Liking the view?” Sabo muses out, winking at you.

If you weren't terrified of him dropping you, you would smack him upside the head for that comment. “How are we even up here? Oh my god, I didn’t drink that much did I? Maybe my drink was spiked? Yeah, that’s it, my drink was spiked and I've probably just passed out somewhere and this is all a dream!” You mumble, as Sabo hums and nod along with your reasoning. “Would you count this as a nightmare then~?” One of his hands goes down to slip under your dress, caressing your inner thigh. Finding and thumbing at the wet spot on your panties.

“Already wet for me? I knew you were the one for me, my little snack~” He goes to lick at your neck wound, lapping at some of the blood that was drying up around it. Your body pushes closer to Sabo, your legs tighten around his waist, his fingers pushing your panties to the side and slipping one inside of you. You whimpered at the sudden intrusion, the contrast between the cold chilly air and your body heating up from Sabo’s actions was almost enough to send you over the edge from just his fingers fucking you.

The texture of his leather gloves inside you was something new and foreign, his lengthy fingers reaching into places that yours could never. Curling up in a tight bowling ball grip as soon as he finds that one spot that made you arch your back and chest into his. All your fear of being high in the air and the sheer absurdity of the situation being washed away by the amount of pleasure you were feeling right now.

“Sabooooo..nghhhh…oh fu-fuck..”

Just as you were reaching that peak, Sabo pulled his fingers out, his gloved soaked and glossy with your arousal. You tug on his fluffy ruffled collar with a pout and a whine at the loss of your high and his fingers. “Now~ Now~, Don’t pout, I’m still a little mad at your actions earlier so take this as a lighter punishment, my dear~” He pokes at your lips with one of his fingers, you still pout but open for him nevertheless. The bitter earthy taste of leather with your own slick made you gag a bit, Sabo cooed at that, withdrawing his finger and putting it in his own mouth.

“Mmm~ I think your blood still tastes sweeter but I don’t mind this taste either.” With a careful hand holding your ass up, he unbuckled his pants and zipper, pulling it down just enough with his boxer to spring out his leaking cock. Tapping it against your inner thigh and smearing some precum on the inside of your dress. Tilting his head a bit down to capture your lips in a silky kiss, just barely brushing over your lips, smooth and almost comforting in a sense. A kiss that would be shared between new lovers just starting a relationship.

Sabo’s eyes flashes red as he looks down at you, rubbing his nose with yours so cutely that you almost forgot that he was still slapping his cock on your thigh, rubbing the head against his fold in a silent request for entrance. “Well, my dear? Are you going to turn this dream into a wet one? Or should I just let you go now?” You huff out, deciding to give in, whether due to horniess or just because you were too tired to figure out what was going on. “Are you going to drop me from this height if I say no?” You said jokingly, but Sabo could smell the tinge of fear in your voice.

He swiftly kisses you once more, lingering for a bit longer. “Never! I am nothing but a gentleman!” You pull on his cheek, “Gentleman my ass..” You muttered, still grinding your hips forward, pushing his tip in you just a bit. “Does that mean you’re going to fuck me like a Gentleman too?” Sabo hisses out, feeling your searing warmth on his weirdly cold cock. “Only if you want me to, my dear snack.” He grunts, slowly pushing his length all the way in. “Stop calling m-me a snack and I might let you..” Your breath hitches, as your body tries to adjust to Sabo’s girth and length.

He snaps his hip up, fully pushing all the way inside. Making you choke and gasp like a fish out of water. “Well~ If someone wasn’t a sore loser and told me their name when I won their little game, I wouldn't have to call you that then.” He was struggling not to stutter as your warmth and your tight pussy was making him go wild. Buried still inside you, his cock was twitching to life from all much your pussy was clenching down on him. “Y/N… please say m-my name at least..when you fuck me..” You blubbered out, eventually adjusting to his size and the position you were in. “Y/N… what a sweet name…” Sabo sighs against your lips, fully kissing you this time, slipping his tongue in and exploring your mouth.

His hands on your ass, making you bounce up and down on his cock, the moonlight in the sky illuminating over both of you. The sounds of squelching and smacking lost in the autumn’s winds and the droning of the party still going on underneath you. It was a bizarre feeling, Sabo’s frigid tongue and cock, being warmed up by your own body. Not to mention, that you were being fucked in the sky as well, above a sea of people who if look up would see you being railed by this supposedly hot blonde vampire guy.

Who was extremely good at fucking you also, so you didn’t really care that much at the moment. Not well his cock was ramming straight into that sweet spot everytime. Making you see double stars along with the one already in the sky. “Nghhh-fwuaaa-Sa-Sabo!” You were basically being used as a fucktoy at this point, leaving Sabo to just keep bouncing up and down. Your thighs shaking and useless, the only thing you can do with moan and whimper as he fucks you.

“Good…So fucking good..y/n.. My darling--hngg-fu-fuck..”

He stops for a moment, halting his thrusting as he was fully inside you. A hand slipping around to your stomach, pressing on the bulge he made. “You feel this? You feel me inside you, hmm~?” You whined as he pressed down on it, not being able to squirm away from the feeling. “Sabooooo..” You cry out, snaking your hand into his hair and grabbing hold. He giggles a bit, enjoying your gentle cries and how your meager attempt to grind your hips down on him, he brushes a thumb once more over the bulge, enjoying the sight and imprinting it in his mind.

“Hope you’re ready for this~” He muses out, already pulling his cock out only to slam it back in with a harsh snarl ripping from his throat. Wet smacks echoed within the wind, you tug on tighter to his blonde locks as you feel the coil in your stomach soon snapping. “Hahh-Ahh! Fu-Fuck! Sabo! Sabo! I-I’m gonna-!” He grunts, biting down on the other side of your neck, marking that spot too, sucking in the sweet honeyed crimson liquid flowing out. “Cum for me, hahhhh, cream on my cock, sweet one.”

You didn’t know if he was using his powers on you again since you instantly came, your thighs shaking and twitching, as you let out a sweet wail. Sabo followed shortly after, releasing his white seed inside of you. In the hazy mist of pleasure, you quietly wonder if you could even get pregnant from a vampire. Flopping your head down on his shoulder with a sigh, your body relaxing itself from all the tension. Sabo pops his fangs away from your neck, double checking to make sure you weren’t going to bleed to death first before he pulls out, patting your panties down too as to keep all his cream inside of you. You shiver and try to grab at his wrist to stop him, but he just pats your cheek in return. “We wouldn't want the people down below to be hit with that, and be caught up here, wouldn't we?” he cooed at you.

You whined again, having no strength to fight back, ultimately agreeing with him. Nestling your head on the crook on his neck, your limbs giving out on you, relying on Sabo to keep on carrying you at this point. “Good girl~ Now let’s get you home, yeah? To a better mansion…” And with that being the last thing you hear, slowly drifting off to sleep as you get carried away in the dead of night.

#thank you for the request!!!!#₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎ softy writes #sabo x reader #one piece smut #one piece x reader

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rose-tinted-kalopsia · 2 months

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≡;-꒰ 𝐉𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐀𝐇 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I 𝑺𝒐 𝒊𝒕 𝒈𝒐𝒆𝒔...

╰┈➤ ❝ jeremiah x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni

tags : angst, friends with benefits, forbidden love/"we shouldn't be doing this" vibes, hints at friendship betrayal, the pain more if you've read main story ch8 and xavier's myth ch5, kissing and making out, mentions of nipple play, mentions of oral (f and m receiving), fingering, clit play, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, cumshot, dirty talk, praise, cursing, use of nicknames "pretty" "princess" "milady/my lady", lmk if i missed any tags!

wc : 4.5k

an : LOOK. BEFORE YOU SAY ANYTHING. before you "roxie... what—" me !!!!! writing for him is probably a one-time thing, but listen. he's CUTE!!! and if he's cute, i will write for him...!!!!! (sorry, xavier)

You didn't really know when it started.

After all, what were the odds for you to be strolling around long enough, just to chance across this quaint little flower shop that would eventually became part of your every being?

He'd been arranging some flowers out in the front when you first saw him, light brown, curly hair shining with a gleam under the sunlight. He was humming some kind of tune—it wasn't one you particularly knew, and yet, oddly enough, it was one you found familiar, in ways you couldn't really describe.

In retrospect, the flowers were pretty. Pastel colors blending in with limes and greens, a splash of vibrancy against a largely black exterior. Blues and yellows seemed to be predominant amongst the hues, almost tiny and star-like—a galaxy of flowers, you remember thinking.

And something about it had you easily magnetized.

"Hi!" You'd walked up to him without really thinking; lamely telling yourself in your head, that, hey, maybe your apartment could use some extra decorating...!

(It didn't, but now that you'd approached the florist like this, you felt compelled to at least buy something.)

Jeremiah, however, had been completely spooked by your sudden appearance. One look at you, and his eyes went wide and his humming immediately ceased—you could have sworn a hint of recognition had passed in his eyes, but it was gone before you could truly make out what it was that you saw.

"W-whoah!" he'd laughed, hints of both nervousness and awkwardness glaringly obvious to you—and any busybody that happened to be passing by, for that matter. "Uh!? Sorry, I wasn't expecting anyone so, um... Early?"

You could feel it was a feeble excuse.

Sure, it had been your day off, and sure, maybe it was odd for you to be out and about in the morning at all—but it hadn't been that early. You almost wanted to say something about it out loud... but something in you told you to cut him some slack.

Instead, you'd offered a smile.

"No, I'm sorry. Are you not open yet? You have some beautiful flowers, and I couldn't help but want to look at them a little..."

It was amusing to you how easy his expressions were to read. They had changed seamlessly from bewilderment to joy, and he instantly gestured inside. "Oh! We are open! Wow, maybe I'm just really distracted this morning, haha! But hey, thanks, I'm actually pretty proud if them myself. Though I get some help from a friend in taking care of them, I think they're pretty too..."

You'd known from the start that he was quite the talker, but as a smile played on your lips, you thought that you didn't really mind so much, anyway.

He looked cute, and his voice was just as cute.

But the store, you later realized, would take your breath away in an instant.

The inside was just as majestic as the outside. You found that despite the fact that it looked rather small from a distance, its exterior was actually quite misleading. The inside was beautiful—a floor and a loft worth of flowers, and, you could spot all the way in the back, a door that seemed to be leading out into a garden.

And was that... a greenhouse?!

He had probably noticed the awe on your face when you stepped in, and couldn't help but chuckle. "You like?" he grinned, obvious pride twinkling in his eyes.

"Well... yeah! I can't belive I haven't found this place before. Don't you get a lot of customers?"

"Hmm... Sometimes. Depends on the day, really. But as it goes, if you know the place, then you know, right? Welcome to Philo!"

He turned momentarily before offering you a single yellow blossom, its petals unfurling like puffs in your hand.

You eyed it curiously.

"This, is...?"

"It's a zinnia flower. I thought its colour matched your eyes a little, so think of it as something to keep you company while you look around!"

That day, you picked out a lovely bouquet of little blue periwinkles, and learned that his name was Jeremiah.

From then on, you would chance upon him more, and more, and more—taking the occasional detour whenever you were free, or even timing your lunch breaks enough so to at least be able to catch a glimpse. For the flowers, of course, you would tell yourself, because each visit, Jeremiah would give you a single stem. "On the house!" he would say, and you would smile.

The first day you met, he'd given you a yellow zinnia.

The second day you met, he'd given you a sunflower.

The third day you met, he'd given you a white camellia.

And the fourth, and the fifth, and the sixth, and onwards—a single flower, handed over with a dismissive excuse of it going with your hair, or your outfit, or your smile—most often accompanied by a nonchalant remark on how pretty you looked.

Sometimes, after that, you'd talk a little. He would ask you about your day, and you would ask him about his day... You've even learned, by now, the things that he liked. Flowers, a given, but also literature—poetry. Though he remarked that lately he hadn't gotten around to reading anything, he's always been quite fond of them.

You found that these little tidbits made him feel less... mysterious, in a sense, and more real. It went without saying that the more you went over to visit, the longer you'd stay—the longer you'd stay, the louder your heart would beat.

In the end, it wouldn't take long before you realized it yourself, but you were no longer going to Philo for simply... the flowers.

And on one particular night, having made it just in time for closing hours, things had started taking a different turn.

...That night had started off innocent.

Cheerful greetings, cheerful chatter—now, you'd grown accustomed to telling him all about how your day or how your week had gone, and then you would never fail to fluster at the way he'd listen to you so attentively. His eyes, you realized, were almost as bright as the sun—honey-brown like his hair, with specks and glimmers of sapphire when the light hit just right enough. If anything else, you thought that a sunflower suited him better than it did you—the cheerful bounce in his curls, and the way his laugh would tinkle in the air and send butterflies into your stomach without even trying.

Perhaps, down bad was an understatement for you.

But no matter how close you had gotten to this boy, you couldn't help but feel as if there was an unknown barrier between the two of you.

That night, Jeremiah gave you a rose.

Cleaned of its thorns, and as pure and pristine as all the other white flowers he'd housed in his store—he tucked it behind your ear, and his gaze softened in a way that you had never seen before.

The air between you was heavy.

But neither of you would make a definitive move.

"Hey, so how are the flowers all doing?" He broke the silence, but his eyes remained steely on yours.

"I'm... taking care of them like I promised to. I still have that bouquet, and I still have all of the other ones you gave me..."

"Hmm." A smile played at his lips, and then he began to list the recent flowers he'd given to you, for the past couple of weeks of your sporadic visits—

"Let's see. Azalea, petunia, iris, lily... a yellow tulip, some lavender—" He stopped, and amusement shone in his eyes. "Hey, don't tell me you're keeping them all in one vase! And with the others, too? That won't make for a pretty bouquet, you know, the colours will all just clash too much!"

You watched as he laughed, but your eyes only furrowed. "What do you mean? I don't have a greenhouse like you do! Might I remind you that I live in an apartment?!"

"I know. But you didn't really have to keep them."

"Why not? They're from you..."

Jeremiah's gaze softened, and then, again, came that same, pensive silence.

And again, you felt like you were drawn to him.

You couldn't have known why.

Despite whatever butterflies and giddiness he'd often bring upon you, it wasn't as if you'd spent all that much time with him—perhaps, you'd try to visit every week if you could, but that was it, wasn't it? A small chat, a few glances... a flower, and then a wave goodbye—

Yet here you were, like a moth to a flame.

"Penny for your thoughts, milady?" he mumbled out as if to bring you out of your reverie, but it almost seemed to you that he was having the same trepidations.

And that nickname.

He would call you by it often—it fell from his lips almost naturally, and then onto your ears equally as naturally. You've always liked the sound of it, reveling in the way he would treat you so sweetly like this, smiling to yourself at the way his eyes would squint in joy whenever he said it.

But, in this situation....

...Closer.

You chanced it, this feeling, and leaned in.

Jeremiah drew in a shaky breath... but he didn't move.

Instead, his eyes—so telling, his eyes—would move downwards over your face, before settling onto your lips.

"...Miah," you whispered, and you saw him gulp at the nickname. "Can I kiss you?"

Moths, near a flame, never end well. Surely they don't.

But Jeremiah, despite knowing that, had never been happier to oblige.

That night, was the first night he had kissed you. The first time that both of you had given into the thrumming of temptation always in the air; the first time he had you pressed against his counter, hands roaming fondly over your body, kissing you almost as if his life depended on it.

And from that night forward, things changed substantially.

Weekly visits turned to daily—nightly. Chancing upon closing hours became more planned and deliberate, and then the situation would be the same. Lips crashing upon lips, fingers gripping tightly onto fistfuls of hair, the soft resounding of hushed moans into each others mouths.

You no longer remembered when he started becoming more daring, either. When he started sliding his hands underneath your top, when he started kissing at your neck, fingers rubbing your nipples fondly... You don't remember when you made it into his bedroom, having him trace his hands over your thighs, pushing you apart, fingers slipping into your cunt and sliding through your folds in a way that had you absolutely speechless. Or, neither could you remember how on some nights, he had his head between your legs—licking, and sucking, and eating you out, waves of pleasure coarsing through your veins like never before.

No, at this point, you really didn't remember—how many times your night had been filled with him, how many times you would come all over his mouth—his fingers—

How many times you'd moaned his name.

Perhaps, you thought, it might have been the same for him. Your hands, pumping his cock with fervor, tongue swirling around his tip, drinking up ever last drop of cum he would offer you. You knew, by now, that he loved it when your fingers fell through his hair, stroking fondly at his curled tresses, or digging into his scalp as a testament to your passion.

And yet, you'd never gone further.

Each night, you would see a hint of regret flash in his eyes, and though he would hold you, and kiss you, and do everything to ensure you would sleep soundly right beside him...

The ambiguity of your relationship was clear.

The nights would be for pleasure, but there would be nothing more.

No professions of love, no promises of commitment...

Perhaps, the butterflies you'd always felt around him, had also simmered down to nothing but racing heartbeats in anticipation of his touch.

"Does that feel good, pretty?"

Now, Jeremiah had his fingers in your pussy, drinking up the lust in your eyes, watching the way your mouth would hang open in breathless pants.

"Mhm... Miah... Miah, you're so good..."

He smiled up at you, thumb grazing over your clit, sighing when your head fell back with another moan.

"Staying quiet really was never your strong suit, huh? I love having you like this. You're so, pretty for me, my lady... So pretty..."

"M-Mia—aahn—"

He leaned up to kiss you, his lips feeling home on yours, your back arching to meet the thrust of his fingers.

"You're adorble," he mumbled, lightly onto your lips when he pulled back. "Really adorable. So adorable, damn, I'm so lucky."

Another moan from your mouth, and you tensed beneath him. "C-close!" you cried, "M'gonna— gonna cum!"

"Mhm? Real close, huh, pretty?"

His finger brushed on the spongy spot in your walls, and your high came crashing immediately.

"Miah! Oh, fuck—Miah, Miah— Jeremiah—"

You groaned as he rode out your orgasm, his fingers slowly pulling out of you, drenched in your slick, and you trembled beneath him with pleasure.

"Miah..."

"Aww... Now I'm hard for you again..." He almost whined as he pressed against you, the feeling of his bare cock on your folds making you hiss in pleasure.

"Should I..." you panted, chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath. "Do you want me to suck you off again?"

Your offer came out genuinely, and you propped yourself up on your elbows as if to prepare yourself—but he shook his head, guiding you back down. Jeremiah smiled and placed kisses all over your face, rolling over to lay down next of you as if to make a point. "No need, princess. We've done enough for tonight, right?"

You expected this.

Jeremiah never went too far; always keeping your activities to a minimum, always shaking his head when you asked for more. His self control was impeccable—but it was ironic, almost, considering that these activities had already very much become a nightly adventure.

But you pouted.

Instinctively, you reached out a hand for him to hold; "Why do you hold yourself back when you're with me?"

"What do you mean?"

You could at scoffed at the obviously feigned innocence on his face when he turned to look at you.

"This. You won't let this go... further. Like there's—there's something stopping you, or..." You paused, and squeezed his hand "Jeremiah, what... are we? What are we doing?"

It was a question you'd never dared to ask, but one that you had always felt burning in the back of your mind.

He didn't answer immediately.

You probed him further.

"Even when we're like this, it's almost like... You're still so far away from me. I just... I want to understand where this is all coming from, because, Miah, I think I—"

"Don't..."

His voice, interrupting you, was twinged with guilt. He shifted closer enough to cradle you into his chest.

"We're just... We're friends, right? Who just... fool around, from time to time..."

The more words fell out of his mouth, the more he seemed to sound... regretful.

You looked up at him with a searching gaze. "Is that why you'll never really go further than this? Because we're... friends."

He nodded, slowly.

But something wasn't sitting right with you.

It was almost as if he knew something; as if he was hiding something so desperately from you that it was taking every ounce of his being not to give in and tell you everything.

"Miah..."

"...Ah, fuck—please. Not that nickname, not right now..."

You couldn't understand the pain in his voice.

"...Jeremiah, then."

He looked at you, chewing on the inside of his lower lip, and his eyes held a glimmer of something you couldn't quite understand.

"...Do you... Want this, Jeremiah? Is it... Is it not enjoyable for you? If— If you don't want to anymore, then we could just—"

"N-no! It is! God, it is! You're so perfect for me, princ—" the nickname caught in his throat, and he gulped. "Y-you... You always feel so good. I more than want it, I love doing this with you—!"

"Then why are you so sad...?"

Your words hung in the air, the silence that followed laying thick with a mix of your emotions. It was almost like he took a moment to process the truth of what you'd said, and then he looked away, gaze flitting to the bedsheets, grip tight around your arms.

"...Miah..."

"No, don't... I— Please... Please, I just—I want you so bad. To have you beneath me—to fuck you, to make love to you... You don't even know how much. And even more than that, I... The more we do this, the more I realize that I don’t want to just fool around with you..."

"Then why don't you? Jeremiah... all this time, I—"

"You're not mine."

You paused. His voice came out barely a whisper, and though he refused to look at you, you could make out the tiny glistening of tears in his eyes.

"What... What do you mean?"

"You... You belong to someone else—"

"No, I don't! I don't have any other man in my life, Miah, you know this—"

"But you should!"

"...What? What are you saying?"

He finally looked at you, moving you onto your back once more, clear, pure conflict in his eyes, even as he leaned down to nip at your jawline. His hot, warm breaths were against your skin once more. Immediately you felt your hair raise up, all manner of thoughts seeping through your mind in an instant, desire stirring inside of you—

"M-Miah..." You drew in a sharp breath. "W-wait, you're not— not making any sense, what's going on...?"

"I can't—I'm not—I'm not supposed to be doing this with you..." His voice shook, but he rolled his hips against yours, and you had to let out a gasp. "I'm not, but I... God, you're just so tempting..."

"I don't... U-understa—ah, shit—!"

"Wh- What's your... call..." Jeremiah let out a shaky breath near your ear, his eyes pleading, his cock resting neatly between your folds, the heat of his touch sending your mind into overdrive. "You— Is it okay? Can I put it in? You... Y-you said..."

Oh...

You swallowed thickly, melting under the intensity in his eyes, failing to hold back a whimper at the way he was sliding against you.

"Yes," you breathed, immediately, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I said yes... I still say yes..."

His hips stuttered at your words, and you could see him grit his teeth as he bit back a loud moan. "O- once. Just once. Once, and I'll pull out, I promise... Just once, let me be inside you..."

Despite the fact that you had already given him consent, he seemed almost as if he was reassuring himself more than you. It didn't sit right with you—something was wrong, and you knew it. Jeremiah wasn't drunk, to have been possibly saying this while not in his right mind, but, this... this was...

What was holding him back?

You, being in such a situation where you understood nothing, didn't know what to do.

Should you stop him...?

Something in your mind was screaming at you to tell him to calm down; what if he didn't truly want this?

But his cock was rubbing so nicely into your clit. You could feel the pool of arousal gather within seconds of him rutting against you, and how—how could you think?

If this were up to you, you've wanted this for so long.

And he was asking you...

He was asking you if he could finally put it inside of you...

You shuddered at the thought, your walls clenching around nothing.

Fuck.

"You can take me, Miah," you whispered, breath shaking. You steeled yourself to keep from bucking your hips upwards. "But you have to promise me... Promise me, promise me, that you won't end up regretting it..."

Something flashed in his eyes.

Uncertainty, perhaps—

Jeremiah let out ragged pants, but for a moment, he didn't speak.

Ah...

You moved your hand slowly, trailing his skin before resting to cup his cheek.

"...Do you truly want this, Jeremiah?"

"Yes," he breathed. "Fuck, yes..."

"Okay. I want this, but I'm not forcing you. You have my consent, but I... I want yours."

He sighed, and leaned into your touch, something like a hopeless resignation now made clear in his eyes. He was like a deer in the headlights, almost—so embrolled in whatever internal conflict was at the forefront of his mind, that you almost pitied him. With a pout, you kissed him, slowly, softly, and he lay his forehead to meet yours.

"What if," he whispered, "there was... someone out there, who's loved you all this time?"

"...Miah?"

"What if... What if I'm stealing you from him? What if it was never supposed to be this way? I just... I feel like... You were never supposed to be mine to hold..."

It wasn't something you could understand at a surface level. You knew that there was more to it—things he couldn't say out loud, and things he couldn't make you understand no matter how hard he tried to.

So you sighed.

"Well, Miah, I haven't met him, whoever he is."

"But you hav—"

"The point is that I'm here, now, with you. And, if... If, it makes you feel better, then..." You swallowed your pride, swallowed all the feelings you might have grown for him through your time together, swallowed all hope that you could ever have a normal relationship with him. "We're just... friends, right? Fooling around, like you said. Just... like we've always been doing."

Your heart buzzed, numb, almost.

The look in his eyes told you he didn't believe you; almost as if he'd known, all this time, that you've fallen in love with him, very likely just as he had with you—

But you didn't pay it any mind.

If nothing else, you didn't want to lose what you had now.

It was okay, like this.

You could live with it.

Maybe.

All things considered, your words seemed to bring him to relax just a little bit, and he nuzzled your nose, the fondness in his eyes resurfacing and drowning out any remaining traces of guilt. "Okay," he nodded, "you're right. Of course. We're just... fooling around. Friends, just... fooling around."

It was a false sense of security.

Somehow, the both of you knew it deep in your hearts that you were lying to yourselves.

But it didn't matter, right?

Not when the first push of his tip through your walls had you gasping your air, not when the feel of his length moving right into your cunt felt so perfect—so right. And along with you, Jeremiah let out quiet whimpers, sinking into you slowly, slipping in inch by inch, allowing the both of you to savor this very feeling.

"Holy shit," he cursed, breathless, gritting his teeth as he looked at you almost pleadingly—"How can you feel so good?"

By now he'd bottomed out and your bodies were flush against each other, feeling the echoing of your heartbeats in sync, heavy pants filling the equally weighty silence that followed. Leaning forward slightly, he moved to rest both of your legs on his shoulders, and you couldn't help but moan at the way the slight adjustment had him shifting deeper within you.

"M-Miah—"

"Fuck, can I... Can I move?" He placed a chaste kiss on the skin of your calf, before letting his hands fall down to your waist, his grip firm yet gentle, his eyes still searching yours almost expectantly.

"Please..."

You could have melted at the way he smiled at you.

And then Jeremiah wasted no time in pulling out, before slowly easing back in. The way your name fell from his lips in a drawn-out moan had you tingling, and you held him tight against you, eyes closing at the way he stretched you out.

He felt so... warm. So safe.

Each of his thrusts were thoughtful, intentional; slow, but long and deep.

Filling.

"S'good, Miah..." you whispered, latching your hands onto his soft curls. "You fit so well..."

"I know... haah... I can't believe we're—I think I'll ruin you for him—"

You didn't dare dwell on his words and only clenched around him at a particularly deep thrust, having the both of you moan in synchrony.

"Fuck! My lady, please— g-go easy on me...!"

"Y-you're the one w-who's so deep—ah—!"

You pulled at his hair, feeling the way the sensitive head of his cock would delightfully brush against your most delicate spot. Your eyes clouded with want, raking your nails over his scalp, shuddering at the way he would moan and moan, on and on about the pleasure of your heat.

"Mhm... so good, Miah, s'perfect..." You moaned in tandem with him, whispering praises, matching his thrusts with every movement of your hips. It was too much, almost, even though all he was doing was thrusting into you, doe-like, unfocused eyes transfixed upon your face.

If you weren't lying to yourself, you were inclined to think that he, too, mirrored your exact thoughts.

"Princess... Fuck, my princess..."

Ah. That nickname.

The way his cock would twitch inside you at the mere sound of this nickname from his lips had you gasping, and you wondered, truly, why it had him so worked up. This wasn't the first time you'd seen him so attached to it—but you adored it; you reveled in the way he would use it on you.

"S-say it again," you breathed, heart racing at the wet sounds of your pussy with each of his thrusts, every roll of his hips pushing him so deep inside of you, gliding against that spongy spot. You could barely hold back your moans anymore, words turning into broken, unintelligible whimpers.

"You..." Jeremiah closed his eyes, gritting his teeth, and you felt lightheaded at the image of it in front of you. "Y-you... You like it? When I call you princess?"

Another whine escaped from your lips, and you continue to coax him, pleading him, praising him—anything to get him to bring you closer to your high.

And he listened.

"Fuck, princess— princess, princess, princess— my princess, my pretty, pretty princess—"

Your eyes rolled back as he picked up his pace, precise with his thrusts as the bed rocked steadily beneath you. Cries and moans spilled from your lips, your hands falling to twist into his sheets.

Perfect.

He was perfect.

You'd barely started grinding your hips upwards to meet his thrusts, and then your body was tensing with pleasure

"M-Miah!" Your fingers raked down to his back, gripping tightly when he hissed into your ear. "M'cumming, Miah! M'gonn— I'll—!"

He thrust hard and deep inside of your cunt, and you trembled, crying out his name, mouth falling open—

Jeremiah buried his face into your neck as he pulled out of you, spilling his load all over your chest, broken chants of your name.

"I—fuck—shit—" He whined into your skin, barely lifting himself enough to relax your positions, crawling back over to give you the sweetest of kisses.

"Jeremiah..." You stroked his cheek once more, gently, lost in the way that his eyes would look at you with so much adoration that your heart could beat right out of your chest.

"I..." he started, a pout forming at his lips. "I'm sorry, my lady..."

He didn't explain why, but he didn't need to.

You could see it in his eyes.

His eyes, his ever expressive eyes, holding so much warmth and so much love—

He loved you.

Even though you had dared to reach this illusion of mutual agreement, even if you'd promised yourselves only just a short while ago that this wouldn't happen.

That it couldn't happen.

And you closed your eyes.

"I know," you whispered.

I love you, too.

Your words would remain unsaid.

⁺₊ / an: flower language is cute and the flowers mentioned here represent things like compliments/love/growing attraction! the zinnia symbolises welcoming back a missing friend! because jeremiah would totally flirt via flowers... haha... florist, right....... did i just make myself more attached to him? 4.5k wordcount says yes!!

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