#meaning dawn; first light; break of day
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Thrice Before Dawn
She thought he was having a nightmare, so naturally, she thought she was helping. Opening the tent flap, she's surprised to find something entirely unexpected.
Rating: E
Word Count: 2,900
Content: 18+, oral sex, PIV sex, male masturbation, squirting
[ao3 link]
Halia takes last watch, preparing to guard over the camp until dawn breaks over the horizon, sketchbook in hand. It’s been ages since she’d been able to take the time to draw or journal, either tied up in other things that needed doing while she kept watch or simply too exhausted to do anything but stare off into the darkness.
She opens the book to where she’d left off, finding the page she’d marked to be the one she’d filled with sketches of Astarion. She can’t help her cringe as she looks over her work. It’s not bad by any means, as far as her ruined mind can tell, but since they’d spent the night together out in the forest a tenday ago, things between them had grown strange and tense.
Gone was the playful flirtation, the long, charged stares, and the touches that lingered just a bit longer than could be called casual. She kept telling herself it was fine, he wasn’t obligated to want her just because they’d slept together. Though, truth be told, she very much wanted to repeat the experience - she wanted him to like her, to want her, more than she felt she should.
Blasted, handsome vampire.
Sighing to herself, she turns the page, trying to think if anything notable had occurred in the last couple days that might be worth jotting down. The same thing day after day, fights and hiking and threats of death or the end of the world. At least they were almost to the creche, which might prove interesting or different.
Across camp, she hears a muffled groan and she snaps up at the sound. Scanning the tents surrounding the dying embers of the campfire, she tries to make out if anything is out there - hunting them in the darkness..
There is…nothing to be seen though. Only darkness and then - a grunt followed by something almost like a muffled whimper.
Halia stands, tip-toeing across camp and approaching each tent, praying that without her usual armor and robes she can stay quiet enough to catch whatever had snuck up on them before it caught onto her. At least everyone was nearby to aid her, should it be something truly deadly.
She doesn’t hear anything again until she finds herself before the last tent - Astarion’s. Then there’s rustling sounds, and another groan almost like he might be…dreaming? Or rather, having a nightmare, she guessed. It wouldn’t be the first time hearing him toss and turn, tortured by the memories of his awful past even while trancing.
Is it appropriate to check on him? They’ve gotten to know each other well enough and she hardly wants him to suffer through whatever was going on in his trance, but she knows he can sensitive to such vulnerabilities.
Biting her lip and bouncing on her heels, she tries to decide what she ought to do, and then there’s another muffled groan and acts.
The tent flap swings wide, held open by her hand, and time seems to slow. It wasn’t what she’d expected to find - Astarion tortured by a nightmare, curled on his side and whimpering for her to wake him from the horrors.
He lays flat on his back, one hand pressing into his forehead and something in his mouth, an attempt to muffle the noise he was making, if Halia had to guess. His shirt was pulled up enough to reveal part of his chiseled torso, but her eyes didn’t linger there.
He was fucking up into his hand, his hips thrusting eagerly and cock weeping pre-cum that glistened in the low light creeping in through the open tent flap. She’s seen it before but like this, Gods, it was like a work of art.
He’s suckling on a rag, which Halia realizes quickly was bloody and - Gods, was that what she’d used to clean up her bloody wound from the fight earlier in the day? How had he…?
She can't move - entirely transfixed as she watches his muscles flexing into another hip thrust, the curve of his glutes visibly working even in the low light. Her breath catches in her throat and she’s trying to process the immediate want that heats her blood at the sight before her, catches his attention and finally, Astarion turns to look.
His ruby eyes widen as he looks over his favorite warlock, and then he smirks, studying how she blushes while he lazily strokes his cock once more - holding her gaze as he works his precum around his shaft.
“Fuck, oh Gods, I’m so sorry,” Halia mumbles, finally turning away before she can stare any longer, and manages to shut the tent flap with all the urgency she could muster before hurrying away. She wants to stay, of course she does. She wants to watch and taste and touch and moan with him. But if he wants that, she knows she would have been invited.
“Leaving so soon?”
Halia half turns at the question, already several paces from his tent and thinking of a million ways to apologize for her intrusion but coming up short. He catches her quickly and holds his loose trousers up in one hand, the other snaking around her middle and holding her fast against him. His cold hand sends a chill through her skin, still warm from the fire and encouraging that blazing want that’s settled in her core at the sight of him so unguarded - alone, whimpering, eager.
“Didn’t enjoy the show, darling?” The question is pressed into her neck, and she knows he delights in the goosebumps that immediately appear under his cool breath.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers without turning to face him. “I thought you might be having a nightmare or…I don’t know. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“And you didn’t think to wait and make sure I was alright?” He tuts in her ear, his mouth so close she can feel the way it curls into a smile. “So cruel.”
She took in a deep inhale of breath, unsure of what to do with herself as his hand tightened around her waist, tugging her closer to him. He’s still hard, despite his cock being stowed in his trousers, and Halia has to resist the wanton urge to grind against him in the middle of the still sleeping camp.
“Perhaps you’d like to come help me…get back to sleep,” he murmurs before taking one earlobe between his teeth and nipping gently. His hand crests lower, teasing the waistline of her loose camp pants and moving so slowly towards where he knows she wants him.
“Only -” she pauses as he kisses her neck, humming in approval as his hand dips lower, finally touching at her core. She knows she’s already soaked, the sight of him fucking into his own hand, cock glistening with precum, had immediately drenched her. Now Astarion knows it too.
“Only if you want me,” Halia stammers, biting her lip as a single, cold finger dances across her clit.
“Oh my dear, I believe you’ve already seen how badly I want you tonight,” a second finger joins the first, rubbing agonizingly slow circles against her. Astarion huffs a smug laugh as she bites her lip, holding back a whimper of desperation and pleasure. “Come with me.”
And then, Astarion’s hands are gone - a hollow ache left where he’d been. She can’t help but follow him back to his tent, called by the pleasure she knows can be found within. The mess of blankets and open books welcome her, as does the smell of him - earth and spice and whatever perfumed oil he uses to make his skin smell like heaven made flesh.
The flap drops behind Astarion as he moves and kneels before her, and the space goes dark, but she doesn't need any light as his hands move to the laces of her pants. He makes quick work of them and then her legs are bare and he’s teasing, and Halia knows it - knows he wants her to beg for more, for his touch or his tongue.
“My golden, little bird,” he purrs as he nears her center, finally calling out how soaked she’s been for him since the first touch. “Look at you, such a mess. Is this all for me? All from your spying?”
Halia has to force herself not to give in to her nerves, not to wrap her arms around her waist or cover her face to hide her slowly growing blush - knowing it will only make him more smug. He likes her shameless, knowing he can pull that side of her out with each touch as she grows more desperate.
“I wasn’t -” he presses a kiss to the inside of her thigh, humming in approval when she gasps in response, her argument lost at the feeling of his lips drifting higher and higher.
He pulls her panties down finally, one swift movement freeing her pussy for him, but he continues teasing along the edge of where real pleasure would be found and Gods if he doesn’t touch her again soon, she’s going to be reduced to begging.
And she really doesn’t want to have to beg, it will only mean far too much smugness to deal with tomorrow if she does.
“Lay down,” he commands. When Halia does, he finally descends upon her, ready to feast.
Astarion draws the flat his tongue up her core slowly at first, and once he reaches her clit, he pauses to softly suck and kiss at the swollen bud before licking up her again. It’s simultaneously everything and not enough, her hips rolling up as she seeks more from his practiced, wicked mouth. Each soft kiss has her whimpering, and finally he indulges her fully, sucking herr pulsing, ready clit into his mouth and plunging two fingers inside, spreading and filling her.
She desperately wants to fuck herself on his fingers, but his other hand holds fast to her hips to keep her in place while his hand continues slowly, testing how she stretches around him while his tongue dances up and down along her folds.
“If I’d known how greedy you’d be for me, I’d have you like this every night,” Halia hears in her mind, his voice echoing through the tadpole so he can taunt and tease without removing his mouth from her cunt. “I’m going to have you begging for more before I finally take you.”
“Oh Gods,” she moans, his words adding to the intensity building in her core. She can feel it building, his tongue the spark to the kindling of her want.
Astarion huffs a laugh against her soaked cunt as he curls his fingers inside her, finding a spot she’s never had stroked before and immediately makes her squirm. Halia’s legs twitch, wanting to close at the intensity of the sensation, but Astarion’s broad shoulders keep her from moving too far.
“Keep these spread,” he chides, picking up speed. And then she’s lost in her release, covering her mouth with one hand to stifle the primal, desperate moan that tears through her chest as her body clenches around his hand. A gush comes as she rides out her climax, soaking his wicked mouth and the blankets below her.
She’s never experienced such intense pleasure, never been so wet, but cumming so hard for him only leaves her mindless and unable to be bashful about what’s just happened. Her body just wants more, aching for the stretch of his cock and to feel the heat of his pleasure inside her.
“Good girl,” he tells her, pulling his mouth away. He wipes away the shine of her squirting release with one hand, the other firmly in place as his thumb circles her sensitive clit and fingers continue to work inside. “Can you give me a little more? Can you soak my hand again before I fuck you?”
“I want you to fuck me now,” Halia pleads, her voice thick with want and almost whining for him, every trace of resolve not to act desperate for him gone in the wake of her climax.
“Then cum for me again, sweet thing, and you can have your fill of me.”
His thumb presses into her harder and she sees stars, the intensity of the feeling earning him a deep, guttural moan that he chuckles at. His fingers keep working inside her, and Halia can only watch as he reaches for the rag he’d used to muffle his moans and presses it into her mouth.
“Bite down on this, love, we don’t want you waking up the whole camp, do we? I don’t intend to share your pleasure with anyone else.”
Before Halia can protest, his fingers find the rhythm she needs and her body crashes again, soaking him just as he’d asked while he continues to finger her through the peak of her pleasure. He only pulls his hand away once she’s finished clenching around him, trying to catch her breath and watching as he lifts his soaked fingers to his mouth.
He sucks her cum off himself as he undoes his pants with his other hand, groaning around the taste of her while his cock springs free. It’s still desperately hard, soaked in precum and actively leaking more. Any other night, she might have asked to taste it - to lick every drop of his precum clean and have him fuck into her mouth with abandon.She wants his hips rolling into her throat just like she’d seen him fucking into his hand.
“Now, what was it you wanted?” he asks smugly, nudging her legs apart further and smiling at the mess he’s made. He rolls the sheath of his cock, smearing the precum as he prepared himself to fuck her.
“I warn you, darling, I was close before you showed up the first time so I don’t know how long I’ll -” his words are quickly cut off by his own groan as the head of his heavy cock finally begins to stretch her, and Halia’s warmth welcomes him wholly.
They whimper together as he finally pushes inside, and she watches as his eyes close in pleasure, her body working to take him while he slowly presses into her. He pulls away once, twice, and then slides home, burying himself to the hilt - both of them gasping in unison at the feeling.
Lewd, soaked sounds filled the tent with each thrust of his cock within her warm walls, hands roughly guiding her hips and core along his cock. He rips the rag from between her teeth, replacing it with a deep, bruising kiss before taking her tongue in his mouth and sucking on it.
“Fuck, Halia, it’s like you were made to take me,” Astarion says, pulling away from her lips but reaching forward to take one nipple between his fingers and twisting enough to make her clench around him, earning her a satisfied huff.
“Please,” she whines, closer to oblivion with every passing moment that he spends inside her, “please, more, more -”
His hips roll harder, each slam driving deeper into her and she sees stars, unsure if she’ll be able to walk again after he’s done with her. She knows she isn’t technically his, but if he asked her in that moment, she’d give him everything - entirely undone by the pleasure he’s offered her.
“So greedy for me,” he repeats with a moan, still trying to play the rake though so close to the edge himself. “My good girl, my sweet Halia, my -”
He spills inside her with a grunt before he can finish his last thought, and the abrupt warmth of him filling her is enough to send her shuddering into one final, blissful climax - milking the last few seconds of his spend deeper within her.
She pants for a moment and he nearly collapses on her, shifting to one side before reaching for the rag. He doesn’t look as he wipes at what remains of their joining on his skin, and ruby eyes meet hers in a contended gaze she’s only seen a handful of times. If her heart weren’t already racing, it would be the moment he looked at her that way.
Dawn is on the horizon by the time Halia makes her way from the soaked bedroll and the perfect lover within, and she desperately works to calm her still thundering heart. Her knees wobble and she’s going to be sore all day, but by the Gods does she feel alive.
She’s going to fall for him if she’s not careful - throw herself headlong into something she knows he won’t want. Even still, she can’t bring herself to regret what they’d done. She’s going to fall into the trap that is Astarion and it’s going to tear her apart and then he’s going to have her begging for more, just because he can.
And then footsteps sound behind her and he’s there, kissing her cheek softly.
“Come on, we should clean up before anyone wakes up,” Astarion says quietly, and she spots his blanket under his arm.
“That was…nice,” Halia says simply, smiling at him. “Fun.”
“It’s hard not to have fun with you,” he says in return, and there’s no performance in his words. Just honesty.
It’s the first time Halia ends her watch feeling so content.
In fact, it might be one of the best mornings she can remember.
#astarion fic#bg3 astarion#bg3 fanfic#astarion ancunin#astarion x tav#astarion x dark urge#astarion smut#astarion x oc#astarion x female tav#astarion x f!tav#hagfics
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homecoming. ✿
the ache of longing, the spark of anticipation, the joy of reunion. the way they greet you at the airport when you finally arrive home.
xiao / childe / scaramouche & gn reader. just sweet happy moments.
xiao
xiao is scared for an entire week leading up to your return. it’s so stupid how he’s afraid of the thing he wants the most, but he has no idea what he’s supposed to do or how he’s supposed to act. does he buy you gifts? clean your room? bring you flowers? does he act normal or extra nice? does he say he missed you? but you already know that… so should he say he loves you more than anything and never wants you to leave without him again?
okay, he probably can’t manage telling you that without combusting on the spot.
as the date draws nearer xiao feels his heart grow lighter in anticipation - the weight of waiting and longing slowly dissipating as the sun rises over the dawn of your arrival.
he can sense you coming before he even lays eyes on you, bobbing in and out among the sea of other people rushing out and celebrating reunions with their loved ones. anxiety gnaws at his thoughts - what if you’re different? what if you’re unhappy to be back? what if you realised you’re actually better off without him?
“hi, xiao.”
your voice is still as beautiful as ever. so are those eyes, your smile, you. he opens his mouth to say sorry for zoning out and for doubting you for no reason but before he can speak, your hands are on his collar and your lips are on his for the first time in what feels like forever.
your fingertips drag softly across his jaw.
“i’ve missed you”.
xiao’s embrace is gentle in spite of his poorly concealed desperation. you, on the contrary, completely fling yourself into his arms. his hands shake with unbridled excitement, unfamiliar euphoria consuming his very being.
unlike the excruciating grip his mind usually has on him, this feeling is so light in every way.
your laugh bubbles against his chest, and he realises how much he missed the sound - the sound of happiness. yours is his, and his is yours.
childe
you’re on high alert, scanning the rows of people left and right for that familiar mop of ginger hair. with the way your heart is pumping you’d think you were more afraid than excited. after all, dating your beloved ajax of all people means you have to be prepared for a jumpscare at absolutely any second. and the fact that you don’t see him anywhere doesn’t disappoint you or make your heart drop. with the way he was counting down the weeks, days, hours to this moment, there’s no way he would forget or even be a second late to pick you up. it just makes you question what the hell he’s up to this time.
you look down at your phone to check the time and whether or not he’s texted you. nothing yet. you scroll through his instagram to see if he’s uploaded anything. nothing.
you only realise your mistake when you look back up again.
slowly turning around, you come to face that cheeky grin, his smile stretched as wide as ever, and you have to try and contain a laugh at his obvious childlike excitement at being able to sneak up behind you.
it sounds cheesy, but you swear the whole world slows down when you’re finally in his arms again.
childe swings you around about five times and proceeds to squeeze the very life out of you (you can’t breathe and this is literally so embarrassing, but you couldn’t care less). he’s here, he’s alive, and he’s still as annoying as ever - just the way you like (love) him.
scaramouche
to any bystander, it would’ve appeared as if he didn’t even miss you. hell, why was he waiting for you at the airport in the first place? did you coerce him into it? threaten to break up with him?
in fact, he thinks to himself, that sounds more like something i would do.
you don’t even need to look for him when you enter the arrivals area - he’s standing at the back near the exit, hood on, headphones in, arms crossed like some wannabe gangster trying to look intimidating. he pretends not to notice you waving (embarrassingly) at him, but you know he does - you know he’s simply overjoyed to see you.
just expresses it in a strange way is all. not that you’re complaining.
“kuni!” you squeal, letting go of your suitcase to jump into his arms. he uncrosses his arms so fast to catch you (and your suitcase which is now rolling away), holding you tight against his chest like you might fall down and disintegrate if he doesn’t. you can’t see his face, but you know he’s trying so hard to contain a blush and a smile right now.
when he finally lets go to take you to his car, he mutters a “will you stop holding onto me or what?” under his breath.
the audacity.
he kisses you when you get in the car.
#bookshelf#genshin x reader#xiao x reader#childe x reader#scaramouche x reader#wanderer x reader#xiao fluff#childe fluff#scaramouche fluff#wanderer fluff#xiao headcanons#childe headcanons#scaramouche headcanons#wanderer headcanons#genshin impact headcanons#genshin fluff#genshin imagines
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"STAND CLEAR OF THE CLOSING DOORS PLEASE" - RIN ITOSHI
synopsis: Rin discovers that he likes being next to you on public transit. But it probably doesn't mean anything - right?
contents: proplayer!rin, gn!reader, reader is team manager, under the assumption that reader kinda short, fluff, sfw, loosely based off of my recent morning commutes to work, kinda word vomit/kinda proof'd sorry
word count: 3.4K
a/n: i realized that i wanna write more oneshots and i know i said i was gonna take a break from rin but ... i can't sorry!! apologizes if this feels rushed LMAO
Rin’s mornings have a strict routine.
He would get up at the crack of dawn, dedicate the first hour to yoga and the second hour to his needed morning run, make himself a protein shake for his meal on the go, and take a brisk cold shower all before jogging down to the train station for his work commute. His routine is nothing but quick and simple in his book, though not everyone can easily pick it up.
Today he wakes up missing his alarm or rather the lack of it.
His phone beams in his face the time 8:35AM and he curses under his breath. Practice starts at 9:00AM sharp and waking up two hours late throws everything off for him. He decides to keep his windows shut, skips out on his morning exercises, ignores the rumbling in his stomach, and sprints to the subway station that's located ten blocks from his apartment.
The air grows heavy and thick from the continuous sea of people cramming into the train car. Usually, the earlier train cars have enough room for him to fully stretch his arms out or even sit if he was feeling lazy but it's practically impossible by the sheer volume he’s currently facing. Rin stands by one of the entrances of the train car, clutching his duffle bag close to his body as more salary men and women alike are shoving past him, trying to claim an open spot of their own.
"Stand clear of the closing doors please." The automatic voice announcement blares through the outdated speakers and lights by the entryways flash yellow as the sliding doors begin to seal shut.
"Wait!" Rin perks up and sees your frantic figure running down the flight of stairs, hands busied with a binder and a duffle bag of your own. "Someone hold the door!"
And while Rin would pretend and ignore just about anyone on any given day, he couldn't do it this time, not when he notices the logo on your bag and the name stitched onto the blue zip-up sweater you had on. He quickly sticks out his foot to prevent the sliding doors from closing, earning himself a harmony of groans from the workers around him, and watches your figure slip past the gap and stop directly in front of him.
He watches you gasp out a breathless 'thank you' before eyes widen at recognition, "You're Rin from Project: Blue Lock, right?" You say a bit too loudly for his liking and swiftly adjust your volume into a whisper. "Sorry, I just read your file before I hopped on." You attempt to point at the binder between the lack of space.
Rin stares at the binder, which appears to be on the verge of spilling out all of its contents of how stuffed it was. "You're the new manager?"
"First day!" You cheer despite almost missing your own commute just moments ago.
The train car sways in motion, causing you to stumble forward and almost crash into him. He watches as you glance around for a surface to hold onto but there isn't much to offer in a crowded room. Rin, of course, had no issue claiming such space as his back leaned against the side wall next to the doors and one of his hands rests freely on the top metal bar.
"Hold onto something," He points out the obvious.
"I’m trying," You respond, but Rin notes that you didn't want to shove your way through the crowd nor grab at the handlebars behind the seats that people sat in. He figures that you're too much of a people pleaser.
The train car lunges itself into motion again after the next stop, this time more packed than before. You were practically pressed together if not for the binder. Much to his own surprise, he lamely offers his extended arm that was gripping onto the metal bar.
"Are you sure?"
"Do you want to hurt yourself?"
You didn't bother fighting back as the next wave of people make their way through and reach to latch your free hand around his arm, fingers pinching the fabric of the athletic undershirt he wore. The train's frequent stops meant a lot of back-and-forth motions, each time you would apologize and he would find himself mumbling back 'no worries'.
When the train finally reaches your shared destination, Rin's collar is pulled to the side and his sleeve is no longer compressed against his skin. His bangs stick to his forehead and he feels sweat drip down his spine. You're still profusely apologizing beneath him but he holds back his sharp tongue.
"It’s fine."
The second incident follows shortly after during a team excursion to Okinawa's training camp. Since then it had been two months since you started working for the team and Rin was taken aback by how structured you are compared to the first meeting. Ever since joining, productivity and communication between members have increased and during game days you would already have everyone's lockers stocked with necessities such as painkillers, bandages, extra sweatbands, etc. It didn’t take too long before you quickly became everyone’s favorite manager.
Isagi would always greet you with a fist bump first thing in the morning, Bachira follows in after with an overbearing hug, Nagi gifts you whatever latest candy he had in his bag, and lunch is always on Reo.
Rin keeps his distance, he’s like that with everyone, but even he can silently admit that you’re annoyingly good at your job. He hasn’t spoken a word to you outside of official introductions after the train incident - until now.
The bus system in Okinawa is different from the ones he was used to on the main island and it seems like you also figured that out the hard way as he watches you do a second headcount on the public transit. The workers had forgotten to change out the working hours last minute and, because the team went during the slowest season, the schedule wasn't always on time.
Luckily, the last bus of the day was able to pick up everyone from the training camp after one heated call to the company. Unfortunately, this meant the drive back to the hotel was going to be in pitch-black darkness with added bumpy roads (who decided to build a sports facility on top of a mountain?) and of course, this bus has no working AC or indoor lighting.
"... eighteen, nineteen - who am I missing?" You strain your eyes down at the clipboard before peering up again.
"Here," Niko raises his hand next to you which causes you to emit a small screech.
"Geez, okay," The lack of lighting plus the football player's face covered in hair did not help. You make your final check mark and signal the bus driver to start the commute. "Two rules I wanna say for this ride back: one, rest up! You guys killed it today and tomorrow morning we'll fly straight back for regional conferences, I already have your suits tailored and cleaned up in your closets. Two, absolutely no ghost stories on this bus."
Shidou, who's seated directly in front of Rin, starts to laugh and throws his head back, "Hear that? Lil' manager here is scared of the dark."
Rin can't see your expression, but he imagines you making a deep frown. You strut over to Shidou's seat and promptly smack the clipboard on his head.
"I mean it, no ghost stories!"
Bachira tips his head, his phone flashlight already propped under his chin, "But I'm great at telling ghost stories."
Gagamaru jumps in next but he keeps a straight face, "I've been to this mountain last time with my grandpa. It was also the last time I would see him."
Everyone is unsure whether he meant it as a joke or if he was recalling true events. Either way, this conversation needed to end.
You groan dramatically and plop yourself down next to Rin, making the seat bounce ever so slightly, "Please tell me you're on my side."
"He actually enjoys reading horror, your honor." Chirigi replies in amusement.
You whine in return, "What? Why?"
Rin shuffles closer to the window, feeling uncomfortable by the unwanted attention, and plugs in his earbuds, "It's just a stress reliever for me." He answers, hoping that it'll be enough. It wasn't.
"Oh, he totally wishes that all the bad things happen to his brother." Rin rolls his eyes at Isagi's comment while the shorter male and Bachira share a moment in laughter.
"Probably a sadist too." Nagi chimes, not looking up from his mobile game.
"Definitely a major sadist." Reo agrees.
If not for the fact that everyone was good on the field, Rin would've placed half of the football team six feet under by now. He turns up the volume of his earbuds and sinks deeper into the seat.
The whole bus swerves along the cliff's edge, causing everyone to grow quiet as they all grip onto their belongings and the nearest handrest. The only light available is the moon but even that wasn't going to be enough as dark clouds were rolling in. The players scramble in their seats and check their surroundings, seeing nothing but ragged bushes and the dirt road being engulfed by the night.
"Honestly," Your shaky voice is loud enough for him to hear, "this is way worst than ghost stories."
Rin is not someone anyone could go to in need of comfort. Yes, he can be rude (although kinda working on it?), but most of the time it's because he doesn't know how to be comforting. Guess it's time to put his skills in check because he really doesn't want to ride back with a paranoid seatmate.
"Wear this," He takes out his earbud and places it in your ear, handing over his phone with a music library pulled up in the process. "Pick whichever song you want."
Rin didn't expect it to work but you graciously take his phone and throw on a slow, mellow beat to hopefully calm down your frantic state. He leans back into his seat once more, watching your chest slowly fall in a rhythmic pattern and your eyes close shut as you try to calm yourself.
After a few more near-death turns and bumps in the process, the bus manages to make it back to the resort in one piece. While almost every player on board carried green faces and barf bags at the end, the older driver seems to have no issues waving everyone goodbye.
Rin didn't even notice that you and him are the last ones on the bus until he overheard his teammates asking around. He had been too engrossed in the fact that you had fallen asleep next to him.
Again, he holds back his tongue but this time it's in an attempt to hide a smile.
"How did you manage to misread the time?"
"I didn't do it on purpose!"
"We were supposed to be there now."
Rin stifles back a groan as he watches you pace back and forth on the platform, waiting to catch the next arriving train. Except for the fact that there might not even be a train. Because the last train may or may not have run an hour ago before the construction workers closed the route off for maintenance. Heavy on the may or may not. He knew that he should've gone with the others earlier when Reo offered everyone a ride in his limousine, but Rin kindly stayed behind to help you (it was actually his turn this week) clean up the football field.
"Okay, maybe we should call a taxi instead? Or would an Uber be faster?" You anxiously play with your dress shirt before typing rapidly away at your phone for any quick solutions. "I can't believe I'm going to be late for my first sports banquet!"
Usually, Rin would keep quiet in public when it came to anything related to football. But due to the fact that the train might be delayed for the rest of the night and that you two were the only ones dressed up at the station, he didn’t care.
"It's mine too," Rin adds but with less enthusiasm. "I can guarantee that it's probably nothing special."
"What?!" You practically shrieked in shock, almost stopping in your tracks at his statement. "It's the perfect time to network and meet international players!"
The striker shrugs and kicks at nothing in particular on the ground, scuffing his brown loafers in the process. “Not usually my thing.”
You let out an exasperated sigh, "You can’t just say that when you literally just told me you haven’t been to one!" A few quiet moments pass before you let out a sound of, what he assumes, victory. "Taxi is right outside, let's go!"
You shove his body into the car, purposely ignoring his protests as you scoot closer to the center of the back seat. Your body is now pressed firmly against his and his cheek crashes into the opposing window. Rin shoots you a glare and you merely roll your eyes in response.
"You literally have all that space next to you. Do you really need to be in the center?"
"Listen here," He widens his eyes as you whip out a hairbrush and a whole skincare set from your bag. "My goal tonight is impressing all the other players and their managers. And appearance is what people notice first." You said as you apply a full-on face mask.
"You can’t be serious right now."
"Oh, but I am." You grin and shove an extra sheet mask in his hands.
It reads 'Collagen Essential Lifting & Firming Sheet Mask' in big pink letters with an image of a snail in the background. Not like he hasn't done skincare, but Rin wasn't sure if a snail really belonged on the cover image of the packaging. He tries to throw it back on your lap but your hand stops him.
You whip your head around to glare, "Put it on, or else I'm doing it for you."
Something about your sharp tone sent shivers down his spine. Rin reluctantly rips open the packaging and carefully starts placing it on his face, making sure the extra solution doesn't drip all over his suit. The mask against his skin is cold, wet, and smells nothing like snails.
He glances at the rearview mirror to see his reflection, the extra white flaps from the sheet hang off of his face in a way that reminds him of a soggy mummy, and he grimaces, "I look ridiculous."
Rin flinches when he feels your fingers on his face, grabbing the extra flaps and readjusting their position back on his cheek, "After this, you'll look like a newborn baby!"
Rin flicks his eyes away from his own reflection to scowl at you but is taken aback at your appearance. While his facemask is just a white sheet, yours had little cute characters printed on it, and he could not take you seriously.
"You look so stupid right now." He didn't mean to have his intrusive thoughts slip out so easily, especially since you're his manager, and almost backtracks his words immediately. "Stupidly cute." Wait that doesn't sound any better. His other intrusive thoughts got in the way!
"Itoshi Rin?"
"Yes?"
He feels a flick on his forehead followed by a series of giggles.
"You're such a weirdo."
"You like our manager, don't you?"
For the first time in ages, Rin misses his shot.
"What?"
Aiku stands behind with a shit-eating grin that Rin is all too familiar with. Ah, the unsolicited relationship advice from 'big brother' Aiku is what Rin likes to call it.
"C'mon, you guys are super buddy-buddy now!" Aiku attempts to rest an arm on one of Rin's shoulders but he steps aside.
While he's not completely wrong, the two of you have grown slightly comfortable with each other's presence since the banquet, Rin wouldn't quite think of anything more of it. You are a naturally sociable person and Rin just happens to have gotten used to your presence. Nothing more and nothing less.
"Don't go spreading around rumors like that." He jogs to get the ball however Aiku beats him to it and holds the ball captive between his feet.
"You smiled at them this morning." Aiku points out and awfully recreates Rin's 'smile'.
Rin rolls his eyes and tries to get the ball but Aiku pushes it further away, "That doesn't mean anything."
"Okay but recently you've been sitting together quite often." Aiku decides to start dribbling the ball down the field and Rin is quick to follow after.
"Maybe I'm just less annoying to be around."
"Would you let Isagi sit next to you? Bachira? Me?" Rin jumps in an attempt to block his shot but it barely grazes his head as it flies smoothly into the goalpost. He loses his balance and falls straight to his bottom in defeat.
"Let me help you." The taller male persistently offers and holds out a hand.
"Like you have any luck with relationships." Rin swats the hand away and begrundingly gets up. Aiku ignores the comment.
"I'll make the guys stay behind today to clean up the locker rooms so that you and our little manager can have some quality time together." Aiku puts emphasis on the last part and it's almost enough to make Rin throw his cleats at him but he saves the action in his imagination instead.
"I'm leaving," Rin dismisses his co-captain's suggestion and begins to walk off the field.
He hears Aiku clicking his tongue in annoyance, "Does arrogance run in the family or something?"
Without turning back, Rin holds up his middle finger and makes a beeline toward the locker rooms.
Getting on the subway during the afternoons is always rough for just about everyone. Unlike the mornings, which are just filled with salary men and women, the afternoon hosts a wide range of age groups and it doesn't help that the station he has to take is in a centralized location in the city. It feels like sardines packed in a tin can.
"Stand clear of the closing doors please." The automatic voice blares above his head as he leans against the wall in the corner of the train car, away from where the majority of people had gathered.
"Woah, fancy seeing you here!" Your chirpy voice makes Rin do a sharp turn as you barely squeeze through the sliding doors. The sight of it makes him recall back to the first meeting, although this time with a lack of disheveled hair and a thick binder in the way.
You swiftly manuver your body over to his spot through the sea of people, "Do you usually get off this time?" You didn't ask to be instigating but rather out of curiosity.
Rin takes hold of the top metal bar as the train starts to move, "Not really. Just needed a break from Aiku." He confesses.
"He can be a bit much."
You try and shift your weight so that you could stand up straight but it fails and you end up leaning against another passenger. The stranger sends a nasty glare while you fix your posture, apologizing profusely to them. Once again, the train car ended up being too crowded for you to secure a spot of your own and you weren't in a good position to reach for the top bar.
Subconsciously, Rin offers his arm again, not wanting to see you struggle for the remaining stops. This time around, you had no hesitation in latching your hand around his bicep. A small part of his brain wanders back to Aiku's question and it plagues his mind.
Does he like you? He knows that he doesn't mind being next to you. And he doesn't quite mind when you touch him. Talking to you feels nice too. Wait, this all sounds like a crush, he thinks. The hand on his bicep suddenly feels like it's on fire and he starts sweating.
"Sorry, is it getting hot in here?" You speak from below and he realizes that your hand is slowly slipping off by the amount he was producing due to just nerves alone.
"My bad." His free hand clasps yours back onto his bicep and he holds it in place.
"You sure? I can try grabbing something else." You suggest.
It's nerve-wracking but Rin does admit that it feels nice.
"I don't mind."
Standing next to you on the crowded train is rather fitting at the end of the day, he thinks.
#blue lock#bllk#bllk x reader#doobea writing#blue lock imagines#blue lock x reader#blue lock headcanons#itoshi rin x reader#rin itoshi x reader#itoshi rin#rin itoshi#blue lock fluff
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Burglar in the house
Summary: The boys were trying to surprise you by coming home early from a deployment. They end up being surprised themself.
Authors note; I'm really rusty, if anyone can give me tips I'd appreciate it! (Shut the comment section if you have nothing usefull to say though <3)
Soap
-gets so offended
-secretly impressed
-milks it for attention
Soap nearly trips over the coffee table in his attempt to navigate the dark living room. He's trying to be quiet, trying not to wake you. The plan was to slip into bed without you noticing so he could be the first thing you see when you woke up early in the morning. Two days ago you had whined to him on the phone how you had to wake up at the crack of dawn to come pick him up from base. Lucky for you, the mission had ended just a bit early, giving him the opportunity to take a cab and surprise you.
His hand wraps around the handle of the bedroom door, blood pumping like he's on a mission. It's thanks to that adrenaline that he can avoid the gass bottle you swing at him as soon as the door is open. He can't react fast enough to keep from loosing his balance when you barrel into him, the momentum of your attack causing you to slip.
The air is knocked out of him first by the impact with the floor and then by you landing on his chest. He hits his elbow and curses when the funny bone in it starts singing.
"What the hell. Bonnie?" his eyes squint in the dark, hands warm against your waist.
"Johnny? What are you- I thought you were a burglar! What are you doing here?" you try to scramble off of him, conscious of your full weight on him. His grip tightens and you give up all too easily. Your hands tremble from the fright he'd given you.
"So you try to kill me? And I thought I meant something to you..."
"I wasn't trying to kill you, I thought-" you ramble on until you catch the way his lips quirk up with supressed laughter. His eyes glint with humor even in the little light coming in through the window. Slapping at his chest, you finally pull away and reach to switch on the light. And there he was, the man you missed for almost five weeks now, pinned under you and looking all smug after giving you the scare of your life. "It's the middle of the night, what are you doing sneaking around the house you idiot?"
Still straddeling your boyfriend on the ground, you try to stand, planning to return to your warm bed but he pulls you back down to him.
"You wouldn't leave me all alone on the floor now, would you bonnie?" he's giving you wounded eyes, lips pouty and unbelievably kissable. "See, I hit my elbow!" he lifts it next to his face. You squint at it, leaning close to assess the damage. Only he surges forward and steals a kiss from you, eyes twickeling in delight as you glare at him. In the end you can't stay mad at him when he looks at you like that, but you do insist on taking the smooching to bed.
Ghost
-so proud
-loves that you'd be able to defend yourself in case of an actual break-in
-thinks it's really hot
The house is too quiet when he kicks his boots off, low lights on, meaning you were still awake. You always had some kind of background noise running, silence setting you on edge like it did him. He had planned on surprising you by coming home for your two year anniversary. The mission had run a bit dry with the leads going nowhere and he had convinced Price to give him two days off to spend with you. The flowers he had bought for you now lay forgotten on the bench in the entryway, freeing his hands for a knife.
He's creeping through the house trying to find you when you dart out of the kitchen, roaring a battle cry, slashing at him. He sidesteps you, narrowly avoiding the second attack and disarming you on the third. Your bread knife and his combat knife clutter to the floor as he presses your back to his chest, arms caging you in. You struggle against him, spitting curses at what you think is an intruder. His blood is roaring with adrenaline and the relief of having you safe in his arms
"Bloody hell love, it's just me." he grunts in your ear as you kick at him, arms pinned to your side. You still in his grasp, vibrating with energy.
"Simon? But you aren't supposed to come back until-"
"Couldn't let you spend our aniversary alone. Didn't expect this greetig though." if you didn't know him as well as you did, you might take the rasp in his voice as annoyance. Luckily, you recognize it from many times spent entangled with each other. That and you can feel him poke your ass.
Gaz
-s h o c k e d
-thinks it's the funniest thing in the world
-will not let it go, teases you forever (lovingly)
The music is blasting when he comes home. He kind of expected you to come running, excited to see him after two month of absence. Then again he supposes you didn't hear the door fall shut over your own singing. He follows the sound to the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe to watch you sing and dance to your favourite music. You are busy whisking batter in a bowl, hips swaying. When he can finally tear his eyes from your ass, he sees your cookbook, the recipe for his favourite cake open.
The soft smile on his lips quickly fades when you decide to twirl with the bowl in your arms, loud singing turning into a startled screech as you spot the man in your kitchen. You hurl the whisk at him quicker than you can recognize him and it plaps harmlessly against his chest. You both stare at each other, deers caught in a headlight, music still blasting. Slowly, he looks down at the stain on his tshirt, meets your eyes again and you both just double over in laughter.
"So I make it the whole deployment without getting hit only to be attacked by my partner..!" Gaz is wheezing with laughter, pulling you into him. You jokingly hit his chest, shaking with your own amusement.
"Stop, you're getting it all over me!" you grin up at him, loosing yourself in the molten brown eyes you know so well.
"Only fair my little assassin." he plants kisses all over your face and you wrap your arms around his neck.
He will tell this story to the team and all of his friends and your friends. He'll bring it up at every family get together too, just to see you blush and squirm.
Price
-sort of reassured that you can defend yourself
-has to comfort you, you feel so guilty
-trains you in self-defense
When Price opens the door to the bedroom, he has no chance to duck away from the book that comes flying at his face. You have the bedside lamp raised over your head, ready to strike the intruder but recognize him in time. The hardcover book you had thrown at him as a distraction had hit his face, a corner digging into his cheek. He's still not quite sure of what happened when you let the lamp fall to the floor and rush at him.
"John! I'm sorry, I thought you were trying to rob me- You're bleeding, I'm so sorry, let's get you fixed-"
You're shaking as you turn his head this and that way, hands gentle against his cheeks. Tears are gathering in your eyes, guilt swallowing you whole. You're trying to drag him to the bathroom where the first aid kit is when he gently cups your face.
"I'm fine love, look at me." all you can see is the drop of blood from the wound you caused. You watch as it seeps into his beard.
"I didn't mean to hit you, but there's been so many break-ins recently and I heard someone creeping through the house and you aren't supposed to be home until-" he cuts you off with a gentle kiss, slightly chapped lips moving against you until you have to part for air. Foreheads pressed together, you marvel at each other.
"You're good. I'm good. Your book might have a few dog ears though." his eyes crinkle when you blink at him all dazed.
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do you think once miss mouse and eddie were in an established relationship she’d bake cakes for his and adrie’s birthday every year?? i feel like she’d go full out for adrie like full on multi tiered princess cake and the first time she does it eddie and his baby just go absolutely feral in the best way possible
ps typ is my favourite slow burn EVER i love it withh all my heart ur so talented
today's my birthday so it seems fitting to answer this! wc: 496
morning dawns soft blue in a kitchen warmed by low lights, and orange coils. a kettle boils water too hot for a third cup of instant coffee, and cooked sugar enriched by vanilla bakes through the small apartment. suffocating heat from the oven on the early june day breaks sweat on your forehead as you re-whip the frosting you made an hour ago, plastic bowl in your arms still cold from the fridge. the yellow cake cooling on the rack simple, homemade. jack of all trades, master of none, it's nothing impressive, just something to tide adrie and neighborhood kids over until the big party on the weekend.
still, when your big snoring man shuffles in with a bedhead halo and plaid pajama pants with one drawstring longer than the other, his raw wonder catches the husky sleep deep in his throat—"aw, baby, what're you doin'?"
you shrug, too shy to admit how early you woke up to do this, suddenly embarrassed with your effort to make a good impression on his daughter's first birthday with you in her life. he had no clue what you had planned for her real cake, and already your cheeks went hot from the lovesick shine flooding his eyes, big softy about to cry while he scratched his stomach under his shirt.
"you're too much," he says in a shake of his head. too much on a thursday morning when her party comes saturday afternoon.
his bare feet scatter the balloons creeping across the carpeted floor, blown up by him late last night until he felt faint, and ready to be popped in the energetic rush of cake for breakfast. on his way to you, he passes the one wrapped gift of a latch hook rug kit beneath the happy birthday banner you hung crooked even with his help. it was a creativity driven present to keep her busy before she got her big girl bike in two days time. training wheels most definitely included.
any second now adrie would run through the streamers you both taped to the top of her door frame, so eddie made quick work of putting the frosting aside and smothering kisses atop your head, wielding his dad strength to hug you tight to his chest, steering you into a twirl by his hold on your wrists, rocking from foot to foot until your back was crushed to his front.
tucking his chin to mash his nose to your hair, his heavy hum vibrates through your skull as he surveys the usual munson fare mingling with your new traditions, slowing your bodies to a gentle sway until his sigh empties from his lungs. "you mean everything to us, you know that?"
"i know that," you answer so softly it was lost in the bubbling hiss from the kettle before he shut off the burner. "you're everything to me, too."
"thank you, baby."
"thank you, handsome." thank you for this moment, this family, this love.
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#the yes policy#dad!eddie#eddie munson fluff#i tried to keep some details vague to avoid spoilers but this whole thing is basically a spoiler lmao#i'll probably turn this into a proper oneshot or blurb in the future
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One Piece Characters w/ an S/O who celebrates Ramadan
Characters: Luffy, Sanji, Crocodile, Robin
Rating: SFW
Notes: Muslim!GN!Reader. So yeah, obvy talking about religious beliefs and practices- if those make you uncomfortable please feel free to skip <3
A/n: this is for me and the three other Muslim OP fans here just vibing 😂 cultural notes at the bottom in case you didn't know/just curious about some of the terms here.
Luffy
Absolutely does not get it, I think he has a heart attack hearing the words “no food or water” and does not listen to anything else after.
“WHY CANT WE EAAAAT??? WHAT????”
Blows his mind you would do this… he’s trying his best, poor guy <3
I GOTTA STRESS HE IS TRYING- HE WANTS TO DO THIS WITH YOU
But you know, he’s Luffy, so that means after an hour or two he gives up and just raids the kitchen.
Task failed but you know he’ll always stay up late for iftar and wake up early for suhur.
Sanji
He at first thought you were trying to- god forbid- starve yourself or diet and nearly screamed.
When you explain the reasoning, he’s touched and wants to support you! So that means he’s absolutely doing everything he can to make sure you’re hydrated and getting all the nutrients you can get whenever you can.
He makes you a completely separate dish from the others while you’re working or resting (so your food is fresh and ready when you break your fast!).
Self-indulgent thought he’s so so so on top of things when it comes to your meals in general, he will never put wine or meat in your meals, and he makes to sure clean the area and use separate pans for when he cooks your meals. Absolutely refuses to give you anything that goes against your beliefs (I need him in my life).
Please, he’s buying you dates and getting up with you to make sure you’re drinking plenty of water and eating right. Sleep schedule be damned, he’s not messing around with your health!!!!
Crocodile
Now, he’s one of the few who actually knows what Ramadan is- he’s made Alabasta his “home” for a while and has participated in many celebrations or events to keep up appearances.
He kinda just humors you at first like “yeah, yeah, go be spiritual or whatever” and chuckles at you with that sexy voice of his.
But he sees how dedicated you are, maybe sees you reading or praying and okay… his heart kinda melts. He’s never really believed in such things, not finding it useful for him, but seeing you just kinda makes him curious.
Easily can fast alongside you, he just doesn’t make a big deal of it and insists that it’s simply due to him ‘not feeling hungry’ or ‘finding it boring to eat alone’ (sure, sure you big tsun).
Makes sure your chefs are giving you only the best and freshest foods possible- he’s especially harsh about the food when it comes to Ramadan.
I’m trying so hard not to inject my MENA!Croc addled brain into this piece so so hard I AM TRYING OKAY GUYS
But can you imagine him going to the mosque with you or listening to you discuss or read the Quran and he’s just playing it cool but his eyes are so drawn to you and he wonders if you’re an angel and that he really, really does not deserve someone like you because he’s done so many bad things and wheeeeeeze-
Robin
She’s an elegant and refined woman, one who will 100% want to be involved in your traditions.
She finds your beliefs fascinating and takes it upon herself to join you in your Ramadan.
It took her a bit of getting used to, but after a few days, it quickly grew on her.
Robin likes having tea with you during suhur, alongside a few fresh fruits Sanji had gotten. Light meals are best for her and she prefers to enjoy your company and take it easy before the dawn.
She likes to keep track of the days and times of when you two begin and break your fasts- she’ll make sure to keep note of the Shawwal moon so you two (and the rest of the crew) can celebrate the Eid together!
Since it’s a time of reflection, Robin decides to sit quietly and talk about her feelings and experiences with you. She did have some reservations and guilt that she was too “demonic” to celebrate this with you, but through your encouragement, she felt better and continued it alongside you.
Oh, she loves getting the henna done, too. She makes sure to have lots of flowers on her arms and is in love with the patterns.
Cultural Notes:
Ramadan is the 9th month of the Islamic calendar, which is based on the lunar cycle- hence why you’ll often see debates on when Ramadan starts/ends or why it begins about a week or two earlier than before, since the lunar calendar is shorter than the solar calendar (or Gregorian, the one we normally use).
Muslims fast for a month from dawn until sunset (there are restrictions of course) so no water or food from that time.
Sahur/Suhur/Suhoor: the meal you eat before the dawn comes.
Iftar: the meal you eat to break your fast at sunset.
Shawwal is the 10th month of the Islamic calendar, so Ramadan ends when you see the Shawwal moon that starts a new month.
Eid: the big celebration that marks the end of Ramadan. Usually you go do a special prayer or have a big gathering with your family and enjoy yourselves.
#one piece#one piece x reader#x reader#reader insert#sir crocodile#one piece hcs#crocodile x reader#luffy x reader#monkey d. luffy#nico robin x reader#robin x reader#nico robin#sanji x reader#vinsmoke sanji#muslim reader#op x muslim reader#muslim reader hcs
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❪⠀🪐.⠀sweets⠀𓏔⠀bangchan⠀❫
☆ㅤbangchan x afab!reader ( valentine's collab oneshots )⠀★⠀3.7k words
synopsys: when chris first saw you, it was past midnight and he was tired, so no one should judge him if he thought it was one of his dreams. and as some dreams come true, finding out that not only are you the sister of one of his friends, but that you also have a crush on him, might just be the sweetest dream of all.
The first time he had seen you, Changbin had dragged him to the gym a few minutes after midnight, determined to tire him out enough to collapse as soon as he got into bed. College had been stressing him more than usual and his sleep schedule was messed up again, keeping him awake until dawn. But just as he was keeping an eye on his friend's bench press exercises, you walked into the area they were in, your loose hair swinging as you walked, humming a catchy melody. The music you had chosen to work out to must have been really good because, although he couldn't hear it through your earbuds, the way you were bobbing your head to the rhythm of the song, concentrating on every note, made Chris wish for a moment that he had been the composer.
But he wasn't. He didn't share his songs with anyone. And you did share your enthusiasm for music with anyone who chose to look at you, as he was doing with you at that moment. He noticed the exact moment when his gaze softened at your innocent appearance, looking at you tenderly, just as you felt yourself being watched and looked up, making eye contact with him. You both shied away from each other for a few seconds, you too embarrassed, Chris not so different from you, and he saw you give a sheepish smile and murmur a "sorry", probably thinking that you had interrupted them.
But then, the little interaction he'd managed to get was interrupted as Changbin left the bar secured in place and sat down on the bench, sighing in a tired tone something about how watching his posture was the only task he had while he did that last exercise, that he promised him they'd be leaving afterwards... Until he saw you too. And then, with his heart twisting in his chest, Chris had to watch your eyes light up at his friend's presence, your lips curving into the most beautiful smile he'd ever seen, and hear your voice 一smooth and velvety, even a little low, as if you hadn't spoken for a few hours一 greet Changbin, asking him about his day.
Chris had decided to adopt a spectator role, blending in with the rest of the gym machines as you two caught up, slightly ignoring his friend's voice as he repeated class anecdotes he'd been present for, and giving his full attention to your words, learning about your latest hobby, the new workout exercice you'd seen on Pinterest, and how mean the teacher of that subject you enjoyed so little was. At least until you apologised again for interrupting them and Changbin remembered his friend's presence, introducing you. And when you said goodbye to begin your routine, Chris couldn't help but repeat your name in his head, spelling it out, breaking it into syllables, savouring it, before Changbin announced he was done.
They'd been locked in there for at least an hour, and although he couldn't imagine why you'd go training at such an ungodly hour, when he turned around and saw you preparing some light weights for your warm-up, Chris wanted to stay. Especially when you touched your wrist as if looking for a scrunchy that wasn't there and had to settle for pulling your hair into a ponytail as you put on the cap you'd brought, securing your hair in the hole in the back. And when you bent down to untie and tie the laces of your black Converse twice. And when you put on your knee pads. And when you took off your oversized shirt for comfort, because the gym was empty after all, and he could see how well those athletic shorts clung to your curves. Then he felt like a Victorian man, because he could see all the skin on your legs, and your bare arms and even the curve that joined your collarbone to your shoulder.
Chris wanted to stay, but he didn't. Because when he looked up from the flesh he couldn't stop staring at, that narrow line between the edge of your sports top and the waistband of your shorts, and met your surprised eyes and flushed cheeks, the Victorian man fantasy was left behind, a heavy, hot shame falling over him instead. So he cleared his throat, swift steps covering the distance to the men's locker room, and tolerated the minutes of showering listening to Changbin's laughter at what had happened, even though all he wanted was to scream into his pillow.
Since that day he had tried not to think too much about what had happened, though he certainly hadn't been able to stop thinking about you, and every time his mind wandered to the warmth of your voice or how soft your body looked he had to remind himself that it was useless. Even though he had that need to find you, even though he was dying to ask Changbin who you were, even though he had returned every night to the same gym at the same time just to try to see you. There were days when he came to class with nothing but his laptop and only a couple of hours of sleep, just because he had tried to search on You Tube that song you had been humming. After a few weeks, Changbin got tired of his sulking, and told him that you used to go for a run after your last afternoon class in the campus park.
So Chris stayed in his room every night.
How could he go jogging in the same place as you? At the same time? Out of nowhere? After the pitiful impression he'd left the only time you'd met? Even if you probably didn't remember? He couldn't. He would wander through that park in the afternoons, when Changbin had told him you had lessons, and sit on the grass, soaking up the good weather, to create some new melody for his music production course. Every note, every pressed key, trying to recreate the pitch of your voice, imagining you in those damn shorts running through those same streets, alone with your music and your thoughts.
The mess in his head was comparable only to the mess his roommates made whenever they could. When he returned home, he had rushed to his room, ready to go to sleep and not think about what had happened for a few hours, but the next morning it had become clear that Jisung, the third part of his artistic trio, had found out about his constant awkwardness in your presence, as Changbin couldn't keep his mouth shut 一especially if it meant he could mess with Chris一 and they hadn't been able to stop talking about it.
The anecdote had spread like wildfire among his group of friends, thanks to Jisung's comments, and before he knew it, whenever he was with them in public, he was constantly looking over his shoulder. At first, he was just keeping an eye out for you. He didn't know if he would be able to muster the courage to approach you to ask for your phone number, but he wanted to at least see you again. Afterwards, it was mostly to see you first, because he was afraid of what his friends might say. He knew that when the time came they would shut up (or at least try to), and behave like normal people, but it wasn't the first time someone had let something slip in front of someone's crush. Nor would it be the last.
Luckily, there was no chance for anyone to mess up. With less than a month left in the semester, Chris met up with one of his classmates to finish his final project, in the room Hong Joong had in the dorm on campus, and the last thing he had expected was to see you lying on his bed, your phone in your hands, smiling at the screen. You looked beautiful, your hair spilled over the pillow, a skirt that came to mid-thigh and a strapless white top that showed off the shoulders you'd worked out in the gym. Chris stood in the doorway, not listening to a word his classmate was saying, staring at you as if you were a dream from which he was about to awaken at any moment.
Hearing your brother speak, you looked up, and Chris could see the moment you realised who he was. And though your cheeks began to tinge crimson red, that time it was he who received your bright gaze and your lovely smile, his lips mimicking yours as he heard you whisper a shy "Hello, Chris," and instead of feeling like a Victorian man he felt like a victorious man, your infectious happiness the best prize. Somehow his name sounded better if you pronounced it, and in his numb state he could tell that even after so many weeks, you still remembered what his name was. Even if Changbin had said it casually, even if you had your earbuds on. You had heard it and treasured it, just as he had done with yours.
Joong asked if you knew each other, and as Chris drowned in a glass of water, not knowing how to respond, you said something about Changbin being the guy who had helped you when you didn't know anything about the gym, at the beginning of the year, and who had recently introduced you to each other. You then had a side conversation, the kind only siblings understand, between accusatory glances and apparently inoffensive comments, while Chris pulled out his laptop and hard drive. You solved it by announcing that you were going out to buy some snacks, and that he would leave you alone, and you left a peck on his cheek before kissing Chris goodbye with another, leaving the room with your heart pounding.
"Changbin had told me you had a crush, but I didn't know the mystery girl was my sister," his friend had said then, making Chris turn around at full speed, his mouth wide open. He had his hand on the spot where your lips had rested for a few seconds, and he could still feel the touch of your skin on his arm, the same arm you had used to lean on so you could kiss him. He hadn't even stopped to think about what you were doing lying on his friend's bed, because your presence had erased all rational thought from his head, but every word Joong said seemed to sink into his chest like a bitter truth. "Not even that the guy she kept talking about was you."
Wait a minute. Chris would have thought he looked pretty dumb, standing in the middle of the room, with his hard drive still in his hand, staring at Joong as if he had grown a third eye and a totally empty minded. He would have thought so if he wasn't trying to remember how to breathe, how to behave like a human, or how to think. In a matter of minutes he had been attacked with too much information, and he wasn't processing even half of it. The important thing was that Joong didn't seem angry, he supposed. He didn't, did he? He was smiling, so that must be a good sign. Chris nodded, putting his things down on the desk, as if he could work at that moment, and under his friend's amused gaze, he repeated the last sentence in his head... "She wouldn't stop talking". You? About him? Oh, my god! That was awesome! Oh, wait, that could be bad. You could have talked bad about him in a negative context. You could have complained about his creepy behaviour. Or maybe not. Probably yes, but what if you didn’t?
"I don't know how you did it, but she doesn't shut up," he continued, crossing his arms, enjoying the way Chris was blushing, deciding to give him a bit of a hard time, just to fulfil his big brother role. "And then, of course, Changbin won't shut up either. That he saw you drooling over that girl in the gym, and you kept thinking about her, that it was written all over your face, that the last two assignments for Professor Yong's class were instrumental ballads. Care to explain?”.
"I... Huh, well, she... And I, yeah..." Joong watched him swallow, his hands playing with the loose threads of his black jeans, his gaze making eye contact for a few seconds before he shied away again. He thought that if you could see him in that moment, maybe you wouldn't be so self-conscious around him, or that you'd finally make a move.
"It was like reading two books of unrequited love from Romanticism," he announced, approaching him with a relaxed posture, resting a hand gently on Chris's shoulder. "Turns out it's just a romcom film in the end."
"Romcom film?" he asked, confused, relaxing a little when he noticed the teasing tone in his voice, and the smile on his face.
"Yeah, you know. Romantic comedy," he explained, grabbing his own laptop and stuffing it in his backpack, under the watchful eye of a Chris who wasn't understanding a word. "Two idiots in love who think they can never end up together, until they do. She particularly likes The Proposal, the Ryan Reynolds one. It's on Disney+, in case you were wondering."
"Idiots in love? Ryan Reynolds? What the..."
"Look, you've got a crush on my sister, I get it," he said, hanging his backpack over his shoulder. "And she's got a crush on you too, so trust me, The Proposal" he grabbed an elastic hair band he had tucked under the sleeve of his hoodie and put it on Chris, slapping him on the arm in an affectionate way. "Don't ask her to share her packet of red jellies, she never does."
And just as he was about to add something else, the door opened, and you appeared with your hair a little dishevelled and a plastic bag in your hand. Your smile was still plastered on your face, as if you had been on a wonderful adventure while you had been away, or as if returning to your brother's room was always returning to a place where you felt good. You lifted your bag, announcing what you had bought, and headed for the small portable kitchen your brother had to store it in.
"I'm going to have to go," Joong said, before his silence was too suspicious.
"What, why, what happened?" you turned around with a worried gesture that made Chris' heart melt, questioning your brother with your rounded eyes.
"Hwa's lost half of what we recorded the other day" he whispered, as if it bothered him, as if he hadn't just made it up. "I have to go check if it's retrievable or if we need to record it all over again, before it's too late to submit it. Can you include Chris in your movie afternoon? Changbin doesn't finish his shift for another hour and a half and he's the one who was going to drive him back home."
Wow, a round of applause to the new nominee for best leading actor. Brilliant performance. Using Changbin as an alibi was a smart move, he wasn't going to deny it, but he was more afraid of your reaction: paralyzed, eyes fixed on your brother, almost as if you had gone pale. He was quick to deny Joong's words, "You don't have to, really. I can walk back or even go to the library."
But his words seemed to make it all worse, because you looked at him even more frightened, until you both heard HongJoong throat clearing. You then seemed to come back to life, the plastic bag still in your hands, moving with nervous speed around the room, nodding without looking Chris in the eye. Great, he was sure he was totally making you uneasy. But before he could apologise, you announced that you were going to change your top in the bathroom, that it was too hot outside and you were uncomfortable, and kissed your brother goodbye on the cheek before disappearing.
And then Joong disappeared too, as if leaving you both alone was his main priority, and he stood in the middle of the room trying to figure out what to do. He put his things in his backpack, so he wouldn't forget anything when he left, and took out a couple of bowls to put the chips you'd bought and the bag of red round jellies you had set aside on the table. When he turned around and tried to figure out where to put them, that was when he realized that the TV was in front of the bed, and there was no couch. Crap. He'd have to leave the bowls at the foot of the bed, and then what, sit and wait for you?
He had no choice, so he threw a blanket on the bed and leaned down to wait for you, pulling out his phone and checking messages he wasn't going to answer yet, just to make some time. When the bathroom door opened and you stepped out, still wearing your top but visibly calmer, the first thing you did was turn to him, a strained smile on your face, "Listen, if you want to do your music, or go home, or whatever... You don't need to stay and babysit me. I can even drive you around if you want me to.""Oh, no, I don't babysit" he explained trying to find an excuse that sounded reasonable but without showing how much he was looking forward to spending time by your side, "I needed a relaxing afternoon anyway".
"Oh" you mumbled, as if you weren't expecting that answer. "What movie do you want to watch then?"
"The... Proposal?" he stammered, somewhat unsure.
"Oh, my god!" you exclaimed, hiding your open mouth behind your hands in a gesture of surprise. "You know that movie?"
"Of course, I love Ryan Reynolds!" he replied, because it was still true after all.
"I love Ryan Reynolds too!" you repeated, giggling, your shoulders moving slightly and that smile he was dying to see curving your lips. "C’mon, sit next to me."
You snuggled against your brother's pillow, the bag of jellies in your lap, reaching for the movie with the remote, and sighed when the poster appeared on the screen, hitting play in a heartbeat. You looked at him as you opened the package, your doe eyes wide, waiting for him to settle in, the intro music playing in the background, and Chris wondered if a date with you would feel like this. So familiar and normal, like he belonged with you. And as Ryan Reynolds' alarm went off and he shut it off, stressed about being late, Chris sat next to you, shoulder to shoulder, and tried to pay attention.
It was hard, knowing that after so many weeks spent so eager to find you, to see you again, he suddenly had you at such close reach, he could almost touch you, and yet the distance was still there. So he let the minutes pass, staring at the screen without seeing anything, soaking in your body warmth, listening to your occasional laughter, not touching the food, until suddenly you stopped the movie.
"What's wrong?" he asked, as if the one acting strange was you.
"It's my favorite movie and you're not comfortable," you said, frowning.
"Yes I am..."
"Is it because of something Joong said?" you interrupted, apprehensive. "Did he mention something about me?"
"I..." his throat was dry, knowing that if he didn't start the conversation off on the right foot, you might get the impression. "It was about... You know, the... huh, mm-hm."
"The crush" you breathed, leaning your head against the wall, closing your eyes in a defeated gesture.
You were silent for a few moments, Chris repeating word for word every sentence, trying not to let it show how horrible he felt about what he had said, and you wishing you could disappear, wishing you could murder your brother, wishing you had never left your house that afternoon. You knew Joong would never do anything that could hurt you, but maybe he hadn't thought it through before selling you out like that in front of the only boy you'd ever shown any interest in.
"Is it childish?" asked Chris.
"What?"
"It's childish that ever since I first saw you at the gym I wanted to stay by your side forever?" he knew the phrase he'd been repeating in his head for weeks had been the best choice when he saw how quickly you turned to look him in the eye, that soft tone in your irises glowing with happiness, your heart about to burst out of your chest.
"I don't know" you replied, your lips slowly curving into that smile that had enamored Chris from the beginning. "It's childish for me to buy round red jellies just because if I press one of the sides before I eat them, hearts form?"
"Yes?" his smile mirroed yours, as if you were having a parallel conversation with your gazes, one that only the two of you could understand.
"Maybe," you affirmed, taking one and forming a heart, "but I don't care. I like sweets. And I like you. Do you want one?"
He took the heart from your hands, watching it as if it were your own heart, treating it gently, not caring about the sugar sprinkles he was leaving on his fingers, or that he was throwing across the bed, and before he popped it in his mouth and could savor that intense strawberry flavor that was to become his favorite, he murmured:
"I like you too".
And when instead of going back to your pillow you cuddled against him, his arm sliding over your shoulders, he knew that yes, that's what a date with you felt like. And as he left a tender kiss on your forehead and you pressed play, he felt it was familiar and normal, because it was obvious that deep down inside you belonged together.
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Arachnophilia: (Part Eleven)
Drider!Miguel O'Hara x Reader (+18)
Chapter Masterlist 🕷️
Content: Oral (reader recieving), Cock Warming, Sleepy Morning PinV sex, Praise, Body Massage, Breeding kink, Creampie, Touch-starved Mig, Fluffy Aftercare + Extra mega fluff later (getting Mig to dance).
Word count: 5060
The days following your unfortunate trip with Miguel were relatively quiet.
You were aware that the heat was coming to an end. Almost ten days had passed since your first encounter, and based on a regular cycle this should be it. This stage would burn itself out until the next one started, and it was a transition you were trying to make as smooth as possible.
You’d been avoiding the society was much as possible, and you knew Mig was avoiding the topic. After all, you couldn’t stay away forever. How would you juggle being a spider again when you were now in a new relationship? What if the elites found out what you’d been doing? What if there was backlash? How would Mig cope being alone again?
You noticed Mig had been struggling to smile since the incident in the woods, and you were determined now to do something for him. You were determined to make him happy.
So what luck, then, that he woke you up that morning.
‘Mi tesoro?’
You blinked and stirred in your sleep, your eyelids fluttering.
You were curled up on Mig’s bed in a pile of silk sheets to keep you warm, your head resting atop a mound of pillows that he’d knitted and you’d stuffed. You could hear faint birdsong drifting in from the nests open entrance, meaning it must at least be dawn.
You grumbled, wiping your eyes before opening them fully.
Mig’s face filled your vision. His nose was brushing the tip of yours, and his massive spider body was curled across your own. You gave him a sleepy smile. ‘Why good morning, pretty boy. What brings you here?’
As you did a light stretch you noticed Mig shuffling awkwardly. He opened his mouth but closed it again, as if struggling to speak. You immediately knew what was up.
‘You’re horny?’ you murmured.
Miguel had the sense to look sheepish at waking you up for such a thing. Little did he know you could smell him now, as his own arousal seemed to permeate the musk from his body in a way you’d become acutely accustomed to.
Plus, you could see the little slit on his abdomen throbbing as his erect cock strained to break free. You assumed he was holding it back with great physical strain.
‘Yes, I- wanted to let you sleep longer, but I am—’
‘Aching?’ you whispered. The softness of your voice made him quiver.
‘The rut, is— insatiable’ he grunted back. ‘But, it should cool down soon. I will be gentle, I promise.’
You pretended to ponder his proposal for a minute, even though you’d already made up your mind.
‘Mmm… alright. I suppose I can indulge you again.’ You were teasing a little, pretending to be annoyed while secretly being thrilled. It made your insides pulse to let him take you while you were sleepy, and you got your own personal arousal from his desperate horniness. You enjoyed him begging. ‘But, I’m gonna keep resting, okay?’
‘Ay, absolutely, mi arañita’ he breathed. That offer seemed to have excited him so much that he could no longer hold back, as his cock eagerly burst free and throbbed to erection in front of your eyes. You gave it a teasing stroke, your fingers brushing over each thick vein.
It was strangely smooth compared to the rest of his form, soft and warm in your hand, pulsing with excitement. You watched those white pearly beads of pre-cum form and drip down onto your hand as he watched you play with him.
‘Ah- I love when you’re, tired’ he whispered. You let him lazily pump his phallus into your hand, gently humping at your closed fist as your eyelids drooped shut. ‘I love when you’re all- relaxed, and soft, and warm. When you just lie there and take it, it—a-ah.’
He got so excited that he snapped a few silky strings on the nest floor with his scrabbling little spider claws.
‘Careful, careful’ you soothed. You put your free hand against his cheek while you continued to stroke him, drawing him closer. ‘Go on, relieve yourself, before you destroy our house.’
Miguel’s affectionate eyes melted your sleepy little heart. He kissed you, once, long and deep, before taking his chance. While you lay back and closed your eyes he lifted the sheets over his head, ensuring that you remained covered and warm.
You could only feel him as he moved. In the dark, with your body heavy and warm with sleep, you felt his muscular arms spread your legs apart. You felt the cut of his cheekbone as he kissed your thigh, the eager little vibrations of his abdomen, and finally the rush of breath on your clit.
You were already beading with slick, your sex pulsing with excitement, when he took his first lap at your tender folds. The sounds that left your mouth were messy but ecstatic, as he licked away every inch of your self-control.
Miguel lulled you in and out of sleep as he sucked on your clit. You were utterly subdued, your vision hazy, and all you could feel was the warm wet lapping of his tongue and lips. He nestled his strong nose into the little crook of your lips as he twisted his tongue, slathering you in attention.
He paused to whisper praise from time to time, but you couldn’t hear what he said. You were rocked by dreams that mirrored your waking experience, as flood after flood of warm pleasure tightened your gut.
In the end, you woke yourself up with your own orgasm.
‘F-FUCK, AH--!’
You jolted slightly and tensed, your legs involuntarily squeezing his head as that flood of pleasure pulsed up through your body. He clung to you, unable to tear himself away, his tongue ravenously tasting each shuddered gush of your climax.
When you collapsed he was quick to move upward, not wanting to take up too much of your time. He shuffled his body beneath the sheets and gently shifted you onto your front, with his human torso planking over your head while his spider half mounted your rear.
‘There we go, you just relax, little spider.’ His words were soft as he spread your legs. You tensed a little as you felt him angling at your slit, but you had been so thoroughly softened up by his mouth that his entrance was easy. He slipped the first inch in with an obscenely wet pop, and then inch by inch the rest followed, splitting you open and bulging you to breaking point. You sleepily whined as you were filled by his shaft.
‘F-Fuck, Mig…’
‘Así así, arañita’. Just relax and let me take care of you.’
You lay in decadence, your naked body smooth and warm on that downy silken mattress, as Miguel began to gently fuck you from behind.
‘Ah- a-ah—’
Each slow pump forced another sleepy moan from you.
You knew his promises to be quick were a lie. He meant it when he said it, but you knew him too well. He would get one sweet, pheromone filled taste of your pussy and he’d become smitten in an instant, savouring and rutting inside you until it hurt.
He did keep to his promise to be gentle though. The warmth of his body lulled you right back to the edge of sleep, as did the rocking motion of his cock slowly moving inside you.
Your eyelids began to droop once more, and once Miguel found his rhythm he moved one hand to your back. He began to rub out the sore muscles in your shoulders and spine, his huge and calloused hands acting surprisingly tender as they kneaded and squeezed you.
‘Shh, good arañita’’ he praised. ‘That’s it.’
‘Mm… fuck, that’s good’ you mumbled. It was the perfect distraction as his cock began to nudge deeper with each thrust, quickly expanding and stretching your sore cunt to its limits.
‘Que chula’ he purred, more to himself than to you. He was throbbing at the sight of your naked body, so small in his hands, and the little relaxed moans you kept giving were making it hard for him to be gentle.
‘I’m not hurting you am I?’ he panted.
‘N-No, no’ you mumbled sleepily. You were panting softly with each insertion, now so limp that each time you bulged with his cock your whole body jolted in the sheets. ‘No, no you’re- mm, ‘s so good—’
‘Okay, o-okay, good. Good arañita’.’
His hands were gentle as they slid around your spine. He cupped you like a mouse, something frail and small, his clawed hands kneading and stroking your flesh with feverish devotion. You sank into his touch.
But no matter how soft he was, it didn’t change what he was. His body still dwarfed you completely. Just one of his palms could cover a third of your back with ease, and his shaft as it slipped and probed inside you was still bulging your belly with its fat girth. You could feel his weight on your ribs.
The weight and power of his body should have terrified you, but to you it was pure joy. You didn’t mind being bent by this man, nor did you mind how powerless you were against him. You surrender yourself to his capable hands. You’d let this monster defile you to his hearts content.
‘Mm- I’m so, rough with you sometimes, you poor thing. I wish I could be this, gentle all the time.’
You shuddered as the rhythmic sound of his hips clapping your rear filled the nest. You could hear his grunting getting progressively louder, a symphonic mess of wet slurps and raw skin and breathy moans.
You decided, in that sleepy state, to indulge your desires a little further. ‘Mm- you’ll, have to be real gentle when you get me pregnant, right?’ you murmured.
Miguel abruptly groaned and pushed in as deep as he could, a deep groan vibrating through his chest at just the mere mention of breeding you. He pulsed against the slick walls of your cunt with such ferocity it scared you.
‘Ah—Yes, yes, of course. So, gentle. You’ll- look so good when I impregnate you’ he breathed. ‘So, so good. That tiny little body, so- full with my babies, that I made in you, that you’re making for me—’
‘All yours’ you whined back.
He started to hump a little faster, his breath hit your neck as he tilted his head down. He was angling for another nice little view of his cock, eager to watch it sliding in and out of your tense hole.
‘I can—smell, how fertile you are’ he whispered. ‘Can you smell how potent I am, arañita? Can you smell me?’
Your back arched as he rustled his abdomen, letting you scent the faint hormones you could pick up as a semi-spider. He was right. It was impossible to describe, but you could smell his virility. He smelled so hot, so alive, so potent.
‘You better not miss a single one of those patches’ he purred, his voice so thick it dripped. You felt venom pooling onto your spine from his flexed jaw. ‘I’ll have you so full you won’t be able to walk. Mm—so, full—’
He started to rut harder, his body moving manically against your back. The breeding talk had tipped him over the edge almost immediately. He bent your limp back as he fucked it into the mattress.
‘So- full, fuck—let me cum in you—’
You moaned sleepily as he climaxed. He rooted himself to the spot with his painfully extended claws and felt every single pulse, every single ejaculation, as those white strings painted your insides with his genetic code.
‘MM- Mm- that’s it, oh- sweet little arañita, you take it all, good good arañita, you’ll look so perfect when you’re pregnant—’
Your eyes rolled as you felt each throb pulsating against those thick, squishy walls. You felt it moving and did a little shiver at how perversely enjoyable it was. It was so warm, so heavy, it was almost soothing when you were this sore. You were filled to the brim until it overspilled, leaking and pooling to the floor, and only then was Miguel content.
He pulled out hard and quickly plugged you back up with webs, though not before using his claws to push a little of the excess back inside you.
He knew he wasn’t likely going to breed you at this point, but the idea was pleasurable enough that he kept all his routines going. With a soft moan he lay down against your back. ‘Ah- f-fuck… Thank you, thank you—’
You gave a sleepy chuckle as he began nestling against your neck.‘Good boy’ you whispered. ‘Good boy, my good boy.’ You savoured the little shudder he gave at those words.
‘Arañita’ he moaned. He nestled deep into your hair just once, taking a deep breath of your scent, before finally releasing you and collapsing into the sheets himself.
‘Are you okay? Was I too rough?’ he whispered. You shook your head and yawned.
‘No, no. You’re okay. If it was too rough I’d tell you.’
‘You promise?’ he whined. His abrupt shifts from primal and horny to soft and insecure were something you were fairly used to at this point. ‘I worry that- you would be too kind to say anything.’
‘Oh Mig.’ You reached out and gently brushed his thick hair aside. He closed his eyes the moment he felt your fingers. The poor man was clearly so touch-starved, even post-sex.
‘Hey, hey. Come here’ you murmured gently. With each soothing tut you shuffled closer, and with your fingers in his hair you began gently scratching at his scalp. His eyes remained closed, but you could feel his abdomen beginning to rustle, a sign that he was contented at last.
‘You’re okay. You didn’t hurt me.’ You whispered the words against his nose as you scratched. Finally he opened his eyes, and the red hue filled your gaze.
‘Thank you’ he whispered. ‘Mil gracias, arañita.’
You beamed at him. God he was so beautiful. That sweet, rugged face in your hands, so rough but so vulnerable. You wished you could heap praise on him all day.
‘There. Isn’t that—’
You both jumped as a low, monotonous beep began to fill the nest. It was an uncannily technological noise compared to the quiet, rustic sounds you were used to at this point. In a panic you rolled over the bed and began scrabbling through the sheets.
‘Ah- shit, shit, shit—’
‘What is it?’ Miguel asked. He was bristling, his body ready for a fight, but you bade him to get down.
‘DOWN! DOWN, ITS—’ Midway through speaking you stumbled upon the cause of the noise: your society watch, its screen now bright and alive with a single name. ‘JESS.’
Before you could even discern if there was a way to avoid the call her face appeared, a soft rendering of orange light and knotted brows.
‘Newbie I swear to god—’
‘JESS HI! I’m- so sorry, I’m still sick, I—’
‘Did you not tell me that you would keep in touch?!’
‘YES, and I didn’t! And I’m sorry! I assumed I wasn’t needed, haha, you know? And I—’
‘I have been trying to call you!’
As Jess continued to rant you struggled to keep your body hidden. You were still naked after all, still warm and slightly sweaty post coitus, and worse than that you clearly weren’t in your home. You were in a giant nest, huddled in silk, with your enormous half-spider partner sitting at your back. You hurried to end the call as fast as you could.
‘I’m sorry! I’m feeling better now, so I will be back soon, I will catch up on work—’
‘We don’t do catch up newbie we’re spider-people—’
‘Okay! I’ll- do whatever you need me to do—’
‘Look, I really need to talk to you! Miguel said you might—’
Right as Jess was getting to the point you realized Mig was curiously edging closer, and soon his face would be clear to Jess on the other end. You panicked.
‘AH- I will deal with that when I get back! Whatever it is I can explain! I’m sorry, I’m- about to throw up now, bye!’ You slammed the watch down with your hand, crushing Jess’s hologram into nothing. Without thinking you chucked the watch across the nest.
Immediately your head fell into your hands. ‘Oh… fuccckkkk.’
‘Are you okay, mi tesoro?’ Mig asked, finally sideling to check on you. You dropped your hands and sighed.
‘Ah- I keep forgetting, obviously with- I’m gonna have to go back soon. As soon as the heat isn’t killing me, which… Well that could be as soon as tomorrow. It’s already starting to fade.’
You saw Miguel cough to cover up the way he reacted to your words. It wasn’t enough; you knew already that he was as upset as you were.
‘You’ll be, going back?’ Mig asked, his voice strained. You nodded.
‘I’ll have to. But, only when I’m needed. Otherwise, I promise, I will be here visiting you.’
Silence fell. While Mig gave a reassuring nod you could see him worrying internally, most likely about whether they’d find out about your relationship. You, internally, were worried about much the same thing, especially after what Jess had said. What did Miguel want?
You had no idea, but you didn’t want to spend your potential last day before returning feeling stressed and alone. At least, you didn’t want to leave Mig stressed and alone.
‘But… For tonight, at least, I’m here’ you said, finally breaking the silence. You jumped to your feet and immediately clung to his fur for support, as your legs were still shaky post-orgasm.
‘So uh- hey, we have some more projects downstairs to finish, right? Why don’t we finish them up today, and start that bonfire you suggested, to clear all the old wood. Just us two. It’ll be nice.’
Mig looked unsure at first, but the idea of continuing to build for your shared nest did bring him great joy. He didn’t smile but he did plant a small kiss on your forehead.
‘Of course, arañita. I’d like that.’
…
As agreed, you spent the rest of the day with Mig.
You didn’t want to think about the society, not right now. If you could just savour this peace for a little longer, if you could just savour him, perhaps it’d all be okay.
You helped him carve out a few new window shutters, this time with latches to keep out the cold, and a stool for you to sit on when you weren’t in bed. It was slow work but you enjoyed just spending time in his presence again. His little comments and observations, his confusion at your quips that you then had to explain, it was the same peace you’d come to know since meeting him.
The sun rose and set over your heads in the quiet glade. You could tell the heat was dying out as you only paused to fuck once more before evening set in, compared to the four or five times you usually had to copulate in a day, not that it was any less intense when it happened.
Once it got dark Miguel crept back into the nest to sort out food, and you sat alone by the finished furniture and watched your breath turn to smoke in the air. You felt a chill on your arms as the sky turned from red to navy blue. Out here there was no sound but the cawing of crows and the wind in the trees.
You glanced at the empty fire pit and the loose wood at your side. Miguel said he would set up the fire, but, you did want to be helpful, no?
By the time Miguel had re-appeared from the nest, his arms full of snacks, the bonfire was up and raging in the middle of the glade. He immediately balked at the sight.
‘What- mi tesoro! Is this safe?’
You glanced up and waved him down as he cantered over. ‘Mhm! I did the uh- rock trick, you taught me, I positioned the smoke away, we have water—’
You squeaked as his arms snuck around your waist from behind, effortlessly lifting you a foot or so away from the burgeoning fire. You spun in his grip to find his face, and you found it surprisingly spooked.
‘Yes, but- I meant for you!’ he insisted.
‘Hey, hey. I’m fine! I’m fine!’
‘I don’t want you hurting yourself’ he whined. He did allow you to return to the floor when you started squirming, but his clawed hands remained hesitantly hovering over your shoulders and waist.
‘I’m fine! I set it by myself though, see?’
Miguel darted his eyes between your face and the fire. He couldn’t see any signs of damage, and the fire was safely set up over a patch of dirt and away from the trees. He let out a hesitant sigh of relief.
‘Ah… well, yes, arañita, you did a good job. I’m glad. Just- don’t give me a heart attack like that, please, I beg you.’
Despite your insistence you were fine, you allowed Miguel to take over from there. He tended the fire and you ate together in a comfortable silence, listening to the fire crackle and flicker as the moon crept over the distant forest line.
You ate your fill and then crawled into each other’s arms, keen to keep each other warm as the stars grew brighter. You tucked your head into the fluff of his hide and breathed in the quiet night together.
‘I should bring a few things out here. You know, technological comforts, even just a couple’ you noted idly. ‘Like um- music, something to play music. That’d be nice, right? Especially here.’
‘Mm. I could- play for you, if you wanted music’ Mig offered shyly. You glanced up at him with curious eyes.
‘Play for me?’
Mig nodded, and without waiting he began to spin more silk. However, this silk came out different to his usual creations. He revealed a few thin lines of string that he cut and held between his fingers, looping them carefully around his claws until they were taut and strong. You watched as he began to pluck them.
With his claws each one reverberated on impact, releasing a sweet and high-pitched ring. Your eyes widened as he began to play them string by string, creating a harp-like melody that filled the clearing.
‘Oh… is, that—’
‘A spider thing?’ he said softly, his eyes never leaving the silk. ‘Yes, well- sort of. Spiders play strings to alert potential mates and, potentially woo them, but- it isn’t usually as, melodious. I suppose my human ears are just a little more attuned.’
‘Very attuned’ you said, letting out a low whistle. He was incredibly skilled. ‘So, this is like a mating thing?’
‘Ah, it- can be. It also gave me something to do, to- waste my time before I met you. It helped relieve the stress a little when I was rutting, well… alone.’
Once again, Miguel’s bitter past snuck up on you out of nowhere. Your stomach knotted. Of course he was skilled, he’d been alone out here for so long, he’d have to occupy his time with something. You pictured him sat in the clearing alone, stuck in a rut, playing that quiet string music into the empty void while imagining that someone might somehow answer.
You watched him play for a little longer as that melancholic image sat in your head, when you suddenly remembered something you’d previously meant to bring up.
‘Hey, um- one thing I do remember learning about spiders, is, that they dance, right?’ you asked. Miguel nodded and shrugged at the same time, seemingly indecisive.
‘Ah- mating dances, yes. We perform rhythmic movements to both calm the potential mate and show off our eligibility. I’ve never done that before though, obviously, I—AH! Ah, arañita’?’
Miguel jumped as you suddenly leapt to your feet, practically clawing your way across the dirt to get up. You stood before him, arms outstretched, and bade him with your hands to continue playing.
‘Well, while I’m here, I shall indulge my inner spider then.’
You spun in a circle and began to move, shifting around the edge of the fire as Miguel played on.
‘Ah, mi tesoro, it- usually the males are supposed to dance for their mates’ he said, his voice cracking as he shyly laughed. ‘Not the other way around, though- you look, extremely adorable, I must say.’
You grinned. Your feet were already moving in a clumsy but sincere expression of joy, like a child at a disco when their favourite song comes on.
‘Well then, come on up! You’ve got the chance to try it now!’
Mig paused mid-string, his hands hovering in place. You tilted your head and smiled, and he tilted his in confusion.
‘Ah… me, dance?’
‘Yes! You, dance!’ you cried.
‘Me, dance?’ he repeated.
‘Yes! Yes! You! Dance! Now!’
You rushed over and gently grabbed his hands, urging him upward. ‘You were going to say, you never got to dance because you never had a mate to dance for. Well, now you do! If you want to try it, then I want to see.’
You pulled him to his feet and took the thin spool of silky thread, wrapping it tight between your fingers so that his hands were free. It took you a couple of pings to get the melody but soon you were awkwardly strumming along, missing one or two notes but still getting the general idea across.
Mig immediately looked concerned. There was a sudden pressure to perform it right, as this was a mating ritual of sorts, and his instinctual fear of rejection was holding him back.
However, as he watched you struggle to strum and swing your hips in a circle, he felt those anxieties fade. He couldn’t escape the gnawing in his gut, but he could put it aside just enough to try.
He stepped forward and began to move his legs.
At first, he seemed stilted. He was trying to move his eight legs the same way you did, something that clearly didn’t come naturally to him, but the longer you smiled and the more you encouraged, he seemed to gradually find his place.
He began to settle into something more rhythmic, more suited to his body. He raised his second pair of legs and began tapping at the floor with the others, stepping back and forth as you moved with him.
‘Hey! There you go, that’s it’ you cheered.
Bit by bit his expression changed. It was as if the muted coldness in his face was melting, revealing those soft little smile lines you rarely got to see. The corners of his mouth turned up and his fangs flashed in the fiery light, his eyes slowly softening from narrowed to wide.
As the fire licked around your bodies, you laughed. The sound echoed through the trees as you grew breathless and frail, forcing your legs to move even when exhaustion kicked in.
‘Beautiful, beautiful!’ you gleefully praised. Over the dancing fire Miguel caught your eye. You looked at him, at his strange little spider dance, and showed nothing but admiration. You plucked the strings in time with his steps.
‘Beautiful’ you repeated, ‘you beautiful thing.’
And there it was.
Miguel’s face broke into an honest grin. His lips extended, breaking his face into new and unexpected lines, his cheeks flushed with a shy but exuberant joy.
He opened his mouth, and he laughed.
It was no longer the awkward choking grunt he usually made when chuckling. Now it was an honest full-bodied laugh, one that shook his shoulders and made his lungs and stomach muscles ache. As he followed your steps around the fire he laughed until tears prickled the corners of his eyes.
And you laughed right back.
You continued in a circle at the fires side. He was instinctually performing a mating dance as you stood in the centre, his legs rearing up and down as he drummed at the floor. He watched the orange light flicker over every contour of your body, bathing you from head to toe, and felt the most unbearable pull.
‘Mi tesoro—’ he panted, ‘dance with me! Come!’
You giggled and tried to move in the same way he did, but with only two legs you quickly lost all rhythm. You kept up with him for as long as you could, until sweat covered your brow and your legs turned to jelly.
‘I don’t think- I have enough legs to keep up’ you panted. As he noticed you getting tired, Miguel got an idea.
‘Ay, I can fix that, arañita’.’
With a low chuckle he swooped in and scooped you up, holding your body bridal style as he continued moving around the fire. You clung to him and squealed as he spun you around.
‘AH- MIG!’
‘I’ve got you, mi arañita, don’t you worry!’
He danced in a circle as his paws tapped at the earth, and as your mind adjusted you returned to gently pinging the silk. The light thudding and ethereal strings conjoined into a strange and otherworldly orchestra, one that played you both well into the night.
Miguel moved until exhaustion overtook him, and when he collapsed to the floor you went down in his arms. You stayed in his grip and laughed until it hurt. In a messy ball of limbs and fluff, with his arms around your shoulders and your head in his chest, you laughed until the tears in your eyes made the night sky blurry.
That sound echoed for miles in the empty forest. It must have been eerie to anyone in earshot, to hear the low reverberations of manic laughter in the dark of night, in a place uninhabitable by man.
But here, in this circle, it was joy. In this private little clearing, with the stars in the sky and the fire burning, it was pure and simple. Whether you knew it or not, it was love.
Link to next part!
#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x you#miguel x reader#drider#miguel o'hara fanfiction#smut#smut with plot#spider man 2099#monster human relationship#arachnophilia#miguel fluff#miguel o'hara smut
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Hiii, im 21 years old and she/her..uuhh I like Women (and I mean Women like 30 years +) feel free to write me or just look for relaxation on my blog🫂
English is not my first language, so please point out any mistakes, thank you. 🙋🏻♀️
M's MASTERLIST:
Do not copy, repost, translate or claim my work as your own! Reblogs are appreciated though. <3
Most of the work is 18+ DNI, so if you’re a minor, do not interact with it!
Series:
[Natasha]: My sweet Baby. (NSFW)
• You took your long awaited four-day vacation, for which you had saved your money for two years. That you had almost no money would be an understatement. You just manage to get through your college with two part-time jobs (for which you get far too little money).So what happens when you meet the most successful CEO in the world in an unknowingly overpriced café?
[Natasha] : Mafias Mistress (NSFW)
• Your life takes a drastic turn when you accidentally meet Natasha Romanoff, who lives a mysterious and seductive life behind her facade. Despite Natasha's initial resistance, your light and attraction ignite a fiery romance that sets both your worlds on fire. But as your love grows stronger, so does the danger, especially when you discover Natasha's true identity. Surrounded now by wealth and danger, you become the new center of Natasha's universe and your bond is put to the test.
[Natasha]: I hate you!
• You were glad you escaped the hell trip. Even if it wasn't entirely your merit. You could finally smell the freedom you could only dream of before. However there was one person that disliked your presence since the moment you stepped foot on the campus. No matter what you do, you always get on her bad side. What happens when you find out the truth about her and she about you? Will her rivalry turn into your jobs or will it become something else?
[Natasha]: My sweet Student. (NSFW)
• You read and you dreamed about it. What if you fall in love with your teacher (who is also twice your age) and you can live your dream? She shows you your deepest sexual ideas and lives them out with you. On the shelf with the books and hello reality.
[Natasha]: Kingdom of secrets (NSFW)
• A story unfolds in the realm of celestria in which the younger Princess Y/n Dawn finds an unexpected connection with Lady Natasha Romanoff, the kingdom's revered and feared first female knight. Natasha, a skilled warrior known for her bravery on the battlefield and icy demeanor, is tasked by the king with protecting his daughter. As Natasha watches the princess grow, a complex and unexpected bond emerges between them that transcends the boundaries of age and status.
One shots:
[Natasha] Apologize (NSFW)
• Natasha let you apologize to her employees
[Natasha] Reward | Pt. 2 (NSFW)
• Coach! Natasha x Player! Reader
[Natasha] Happy anniversary (NSFW)
• Sugar!Mommy Natasha celebrates her anniversary with Sugar!Baby Reader
[Natasha] Together
• Sugar!Mommy Natasha is helping you through exams
[Natasha] Oh, Baby.. (NSFW)
• You break Natasha’s first rule. (NSFW)
[Natasha]: Afraid of loosing you.
• Natasha is your girlfriend of two years and is always overprotective over you. So what happens when you both get under an attack which priority it is to kill the black widow?
[Natasha]: Teacher!Nat x Teacher!Reader
• In a school where Prof!Natasha and Prof!Reader teach different languages, they have quite the contrasting reputations. Despite their differences, Natasha and Reader engage in playful flirting at work..
[Natasha]: Cure (NSFW)
• You got infected with the sex pollen and a red haired ..acquaintance offers to help you.
[Natasha]: Distraction (NSFW)
• Smutty hate sex with Boss!natasha and her assistant
[Hidden]: Natasha learns the real you (NSFW)
• Natasha gets to know the real you.
[Wandanat]: Unholy (NSFW)
• Wanda is a stripper and Nat took an interest in her
#natasha x reader#natasha romanoff#natasha smut#natasha romanov x reader#nat x reader#dom!natasha x reader#natasha romanov smut
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self aware. (voicelines.)
a consciousness not coded nor ciphered into his system; it is nothing less of a blessing if it means bearing witness to you.(or him listening to how you react to their voicelines.)
ft. : diluc, kaeya, scaramouche & xiao.
warnings : religious themes, obsessive behavior, suggestive (scaramouche), you as a simp (diluc snd xiao), lmk if i missed anything!
a/n : anddd a ty to @mondaymelon for the inspiration!! <3 ily melon mwah,,
diluc.
frost melts as the clouds part, a small shaft of sunlight a first step of a clear, cut day. the touch the cold held onto him fades to the presence of aureate warmth, soaking him in its familiar light.
“listen, as long as you stick to your own path, it doesn't matter what mother nature throws at you.”
“it does matter because i’m not trying to die to frostbite, master diluc.”
he hears your voice from somewhere - where? he doesn’t know and, rather, he doesn’t exactly mind not knowing. he’s blessed either way. …though he prefers not to be the reason of your slight of irritation.
“look, you’re half hp already. i can’t live without you. …i-i mean, literally, i can’t live without you since i main yo— does that make sense?”
oh.
he feels himself flush a bit. so that’s where the flower of irritation came from, bloomed from a seed of concern and… adoration, perhaps? maybe he’s thinking of himself a bit too highly in that aspect.
but let such a dream, so far out of reach, yet within his grasp, drift within his very being. it’s already enough that he’s the object of your attention (as of now, he thinks, and it sets an uneasy feeling in his chest) and that he’s doted on with your presence alone.
oh, truly has he been blessed with dreams.
kaeya.
the city of romance, wine, and, of course, wind, continues to course, akin to the windmills that never ceases to flow - it’s familiar. a home away from ho—
“i didn't know you were such a slacker.”
silence.
“…seriously? in front of the alchemy table?” a smile all too easily touches his lips. he’s fortunate enough that you’re still on the menu, lest you’ll see him break (code) character. “i only stopped moving for like, a good 10 seconds!”
god, you’re so cute.
he wonders what’s stopping him from talking to you, really, just to pull out a few more of those reactions of yours. he can’t see you, which is practically a sin in and of itself, but the way your voice peaks, dips, or drops and rises in tone is enough for him to forgive such a misgiving.
(in that way, he can at least imagine the look on your face.)
so he’ll do anything for your eyes to stay on him, even if it means saying his lines on loop every oh so frequently.
that just means you’re thinking about him for one more moment longer, no?
scaramouche.
ivy slithers; blossoms in bloom; dewdrops in the air as dawn dips on the dot of the horizon. for a moment’s rest, an idle thought - and yet,
“there's no such thing as pure freedom in this world. even the wind cannot blow on forever.”
“there’s something else i can blow o— wait.” you cut yourself off. he doesn’t see you (as unfortunate as that is) but he feels as though you are at least slightly embarrassed.
“…i did not just say that.”
…ridiculous. really.
that’s what he thought, yes, and yet, the heat on his cheeks tells another story. it took every fiber of himself to not tip his hat to try and cover his face.
even after these few months, he still hasn’t adjusted to your… remarks, and that’s putting it very lightly. you’re practically talking to a screen, don’t you realize that? at some point you must’ve realized that. honestly.
so he says.
but, please, do keep talking (to him and him alone, of course.) only he can hear your voice - the lilts, dips, all the melodious shifts in volume - so that he can feel close and closer to you.; t’s the one and only think that makes him feel as though you’re near.
even when you’re a screen and a reality away.
xiao.
a teardrop of rain. another. and another. until it started a downpour - unrelenting, pelting. a darkness descended upon the skies that sets in a sense of unease.
“many mortals fear lightning... incomprehensible. fear of something so common.”
“stand right outside while it happens and see how loud it is, i dare you.” he slightly shivers at the tone of your voice. if he had the choice to, he would’ve kept his words to himself - alas, it is only the series of codes.
in spite of that, he feels the rain. he feels its biting touch, seeping into him, and the cold that coats him. he feels the world underneath him with every thrum of thunder, the lightning scorching patches of land that seldom felt familiar as of late.
not you though. only the sound, so strider, as it echoes within the screen.
“AAA—”
he flinches. his eyes darts to and fro, as much as he can, to at least see a source of what caused such a reaction out of nowhere. but there’s nothing.
“xiao, xiao, i didn’t mean that, i take it back, please.”
oh. so you were referring to him.
the wintry touch of the rain isn’t enough to try and cool the warmth that simmered in his skin, and he finds himself wondering how he found himself under the eyes of a god, you, that held such care and fondness for him.
then again, it’s not as though he hadn’t held any reverence to them, so perhaps the feelings are… balanced. mutual.
that’d be a bit selfish of him to assume. but it’s not as though you know, of course. these selfish, tactless feelings are for him and him alone to keep and know - not even someone like you would pry it out of him, despite it being for you.
general taglist (open!) : @yzeniko, @starz222, @haliyamori, @taokives, @tartaglia-apologist.
#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin impact x you#genshin x you#sagau x reader#sagau x you#genshin impact imagines#genshin imagines#genshin impact drabbles#genshin drabbles#diluc x reader#diluc x you#kaeya x reader#kaeya x you#scaramouche x reader#scaramouche x you#wanderer x reader#wanderer x you#xiao x reader#xiao x you
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ACOTAR characters and the solar eclipse
Cassian: stares directly at the hidden sun without protective glasses, the dummy.
Nesta: whacks Cassian for his stupidity. She is unamused by her mate tackling her into his arms and flying straight into the clouds. Once she stops scowling and struggling, Nesta is quietly awed by how beautiful the sky looks. They spend the next few hours in the skies, flying north and following the eclipse’s path to the Illyrian mountains.**
Gwyn: hangs out in the training ground with her fellow priestesses, Emerie, and Azriel. Cassian had grabbed Nesta in the middle of training, and everyone else had agreed to pause their drills to admire the sky. While the priestesses and Emerie chatter amongst themselves, Gwyn notices that Az has removed himself from the group and is standing near the weapon rack. Gwyn approaches Az, teasing him that as a Shadowsinger, the eclipse is a triumphant moment for the shadows to come out and conquer the training ground. A puzzled Az asks what she means. Gwyn shrugs, explaining that she’d noticed that the shadows avoid direct sunlight and stay away during morning training. She’d only ever seen them at night or inside the house, you see. At these words, the shadows cautiously exit the House of Wind — but they don’t swarm the darkened training ground like Gwyn expected. Instead the shadows stay close to Gwyn for the duration of the eclipse. Gwyn laughs in delight and pretends to bat them away in jest. When the returning sunshine marks the end of the eclipse, the shadows don’t disappear into the safety of the house. To Az’s shock, the shadows hover around Gwyn for the rest of training, seemingly immune to their fear of sunlight for the first time ever.
Feyre, Rhys, and Nyx: Feyre has ensured that Nyx can’t take off his protective glasses by accident, taping them securely to the back of his head. When the eclipse starts, Nyx gets very upset and starts bawling — not because he’s scared of the dark, but because this has never happened before and it’s scary. Feyre quickly uses her Day Court power to light up her body, distracting Nyx and providing a source of light. When that doesn’t quell the crying, Rhys comes over and does his Night Court blanket of darkness trick, coating the River House with his power and stars. It’s still dark, but Nyx is familiar with this kind of darkness and stops fussing. 🥹
Elain: watches the eclipse in her garden. Alone. When the sun disappears, Elain suddenly, desperately, irrationally wishes for Luci sunshine. She wishes for sunshine, nothing else. Elain is relieved when the world goes back to normal an hour later, chalking up her pesky thoughts to temporary insanity and sun deprivation.
Helion: there’s no solar eclipse in the Day Court, duh. The Prythian path of totality has a random break between the Dawn and Night courts. Even science and gravitational physics have to obey the court borders, obviously. Rhys did invite Helion to view the eclipse in Velaris, but Helion declined. He’d attended a previous eclipse centuries ago and felt his magic wane during the phenomenon; while beautiful to witness, Helion has no desire to experience that vulnerability again after Amarantha’s imprisonment.***
————
I wrote this out very quickly and missed some folks — I’d love to know how you think the characters would react! Wanna add your own take? Feel free to reblog or comment. ☀️🌄☀️
** Yes, I know the eclipse travelled southwest in the real world, but let’s pretend it can go north. I don’t know if that’s possible with science 😭
*** Idea shamelessly stolen from Avatar: The Last Airbender 😅 Hey, it makes sense!
#my acotar headcanons#gwynriel#elucien#feysand#nessian#gwyneth berdara#azriel#lucien vanserra#elain archeron#feyre archeron#rhysand#nesta archeron#cassian#pro gwyn#gwyn x azriel#nyx archeron#helion spell cleaver#emerie
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Paring - best friend hyunjin x fem!reader
Genre : smut, fluff
Warnings : heart melting amount of fluff and very very soft sex.
Synopsis : your best friend always had feelings for you but you never came to know that especially when you found yourself so little next to him.
You were slouched on the couch with your best friend hyunjin's head on your shoulder as you watch a movie that was apparently " super popular and amazing".
Soon you guys got bored and decided to catch up on somethings you guys missed out when he was visiting his grandma.
You ranted and ranted on and on to him about how you were just so single and it burned your skin watching couples. Your family always made you feel left out because of that.
" they always go on group dates with my cousins, relatives, siblings and others. I could be there with them right now but Is it because I'm ugly? Am I not good enough? Why do I have to be single! " you were about to explode in anger.
"like this time again? That's so rude honestly. I mean they're your family" he watched you rant on and on smiling and finding it cute.
" they don't even call me! They just leave me all alone! How hurt could I even be? Why is everyone taken!?" you cry.
You looked like you were about to tear up. And he gave you a comforting hug. You had rare friends that comfort you like him. You always wondered how he was so patient listening to you for hours.
" I find your stories interesting and funny. That's why I like you." making you happy and feel a bit better.
You go to the kitchen and bring out a bucket of ice cream you keep for yourself especially on these days. He watched you shove your mouth and rant on and on... again.
It was entertaining until you brought up a boy. " You remember Lee know? Well I always liked him but he's been so distant I swear I can't reach him. I feel like being with him for the rest of my life but he's always so much better than me and it makes me feel so small" you pout.
" at this rate I'll be single forever. I wish I could get close to him. If school ends how will I ever be with him?!" you were tearing up from that thought.
His face changed too he wasn't smiling like before, he looked a bit hurt. He couldn't even hear you when his mind flood with thoughts.
Such a pretty girl, what a pity she isnt taken. And if you would be his he would be the happiest person in the entire world. He remembered when he was in that same loop hole.
Waking up drenched in sweat with the thought of you being with someone else. He worked so hard just to be your friend. He worked even harder just to be your best friend and now his mind only ached with those memories of how hard he tried.
He liked you since first grade. You were the apple of his eye, A sweet melody played on his mind when he thinks about you. In fact whenever he sees you, he only finds good memories. Like the beautiful scenery of a field of colorful flowers or a dawn where the sun's ray of light hit the waves of the sea on a misty blue morning.
You were his only reason to live. You were his only purpose to find life because he was lost before he found a reason to live.
Today his heart ached to hear such a thing from you. Tears threatened to leave his eyes but he knew very well how much it swells in your heart to not have the person you want close to you because he's been though all of that.
You could tell something was wrong. " H-hyunjin? Is there something wrong?" he shook his head smiling at you.
"No it's just that minho is taken, didn't you know that?" he couldnt believe but he's lying now.
" wah-what? But no one told me!" to add feul to the fire he lies even more. "it seems like they're in deep love too. He said he's planning to propose to her after graduation.I'm surprised you didn't know That" hyunjin said.
"wah-what no! Why? Wh-why is this happening to me?" you were breaking down and he came closer to you and gave you a comforting hug that you cried onto his shoulders in seconds.
" If you're really looking for someone..." he pauses. " you have me. I'm ready to be yours. I've always liked you." you froze in your place.
He pulls out from the hug. He stares at you who was speechless. You know you've always liked him but you always knew that he was never going to be yours especially when he's just your best friend who always looks out for you. You could never loose him so you always pushed that tight far far away so much so you found yourself looking for others to keep yourself distracted.
"I-I'm really sorry if you don't think of me like that." he stumbles over his words ready to leave.
"wait." you grab his wrist sitting him down. "what do you mean you've always liked me?" and he stared at you before telling you how he's spent half of his life just chasing you.
It was the first day of 1st grade that his eyes landed on you. From then he liked you. That feeling grew much bigger by each grade.
" if you remember that field trip in 7th grade where we went to a huge mountain. I only stared at you looking at the mist and fog near the railing of the huge mountain. You looked liked my lost happiness." and from then he chased after you even harder,
Shifting his body, mind, behavior and likings just to be perfect for you.
You just stare at him only wondering how this popular hot boy only ran after you when he was surrounded by pretty people.
"it wasn't just your looks, your smile reminded me of my first time star gazing with my mom. I could remember that moment only when I saw you smile." you flushed.
" it started with just you but then I fell harder for your personality, behavior and kindness. How could you exist? How could a person like you even exist? I only knew I needed you."
This was when he became your best friend. "it didn't mean anything if it meant changing myself for you. I would happily do that to be a better person. Maybe I don't know my real self because I changed for you but I'm happy like this."
You were crying again. You only needed to hug him. " if only you be mine, my soul will rest in peace." he said kissing your forehead and you nod your head in his chest.
---------------------------------------------------
Somewhere in between those tears you two were turning hot and burned from the inside, searching for that one feeling of relief.
Before you knew it, you two were making out. You were on top of him while sat still. Eating each other hungrily.
Out of some intense climax you started grinding on his hard bulge hinting him what you were craving.
You took off your hoodie and your little top, then your pants, underwear and bra. You guys stripped every piece of clothing off of each other.
You could only admire his physique just wondering why you didn't ask him out earlier. This all could have been yours.
He was shaking pulling down his boxers. He came towards you with his hard pink red cock leaking pre cum. It was big.
You were resting your head on the armrest of the couch. He lifts your legs to your chest. Staring at your wet cunt.
He picked up your wet slick and stuck a finger inside. Making you whine at the feeling. He admired your sweaty red flushed face.
He licks your wet cunt, the texture of his tongue shivered you.
You didn't know if the feeling was because of the sensitivity of your first time or the feeling of being fucked by hyunjin made you this mess.
You were whining and whining until he started to pump into you. Lewd moans escaped your mouth.
You were grinding on his fingers. " Pl-please. I just fuck me already." just waiting for him to fit inside you.
Without another word he sticks his cock in you giving you a stretch you think youll never find this good. Before you knew it he was slowly thrusting in you.
" that feels good. I always knew your walls you'd feel good but never thought it would feel as this good." he moaned.
Shit...this wasn't him fucking you. It was him making love to you
His wet lips draped over your entire body. Covering you with marks and wet kisses. Touching everything single soft parts discovering you and your favorite parts.
The feeling was tingling. Even though his thrusts were slow and agonizing, the feeling made you blush harder with every thrust. Just the thought of him in you, and how much he wanted you. You finally felt wanted.
" Y/n I've rejected every single girl I my life, hoping I'd have you one day." he claimed. " and you're not ugly, it was me who warned all the boys off."
Though the confession hurt you, you liked how he did so much just to get to you. " only if you asked me out earlier, I wouldnt have to do this." those words spun in your head.
You realize how he's been hinting you all along but you've never thought of it like that.
" oh please! Mmh- just please go faster." a tear slips down your face.
This pace picks up a bit faster. The feeling has your walls wrapped around him.
" baby please loosen up, I might not last any longer if you keep up like this." he moans his face flushing aswell.
His face is buried in the crotch of your neck and you can feel his burning hot cheeks and sweat. His breathe was shaky and warm.
With every thrust you felt bubbling up, so much closer and closer to your first orgasm.
And him kissing and caressing your face did not help. The thrusts got sloppier and sloppier till it only made wet sounds.
" ahh I-Im close." you chocked on a moan, he moved even faster. Til both of you came together.
Both a panting, shaking mess. The feeling was euphoric, you wanted this every single day. Forget about Lee know.
" now are you still single?" he asked laying beside you looking at you stare at the ceiling.
"then will you be my boyfriend and be only mine?" you chuckled but looking back at him the question was his life. His eyes were teary.
" ye-yes! Ofcourse" he said. And you can see the sparks in his eyes. He really wanted you, and he really needed you. He looked like he won in his life.
#kpop#hyunjin smut#Hyunjin#stray kids hyunjin#skz hyunjin#hwang hyunjin#Hyunjin x reader#Straykids#Skz#Hyunjin ff#straykids smut#skz smut#straykids fic#skz fic#skz ff
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Kinktober “Day 2”: Roleplay
Sub!Satan x Reader Drabble
Warning/Desc: 700+ word drabble, electro stim, general narrative violence, 18+ nsfw content, hand job, sex toys, edging, bondage, dom/sub relationship, is gender neutral but mentions heeled boots
Synopsis: You and Satan roleplay as a dirty detective and a crime boss.
A/N: Took a bit longer but that’s cuz it’s a bit better than the first. Next one will likely be just as slow, if not slower bc i don’t have any ideas for it smh. And I call these drabbles cuz they don’t feel like fics but they also feel a bit too long for drabbles? Idk. Format later.
The heels of your boots click heavy against the linoleum, echoing through the dimly lit room, catching the attention of the blindfolded figure seated in the center. Frustration etches his face as he tugs pointlessly against his restraints, which have him completely bound to the chair. His voice trembles as he demands, "Who's there?"
You approach without a word, closing the distance until you're within arm's reach. When you're finally close enough, you run your fingers through his sweaty blond locks, feigning it as an affectionate touch before roughly yanking his head back. The resulting sound from him almost makes you break character. Almost.
"Do you know why you are here, detective?" You ask him, your voice taking on an authoritative tone. You move your free hand to slide his blindfold down and lift his chin, forcing him to look you in the eyes.
After locking gazes with you for just a tad bit longer than necessary, he jerks his face from your grasp. "What's the meaning of this, MC? I demand an explanation."
The dim lighting accentuates the eerie shadow cast across your face as you curl your lips into a sneer. "You don't get to make demands, traitor." When Satan's eyes widen in surprise, you nod affirmatively. "That's right. We've had eyes on you for a long time. Ever since Lucifer uncovered your little embezzling operation. Thought that was off the books, didn’t ya?"
Satan barely manages to stifle a laugh at your choice of backstory. You make a note to punish him a little extra for that.
"I haven't done anything," he retorts, voice laced with defiance, "You don't have any proof."
You respond with a skeptical raised eyebrow before sliding a hand beneath the waistband of your pants. His gaze fixates on you, and a flush gradually tinges his cheeks. "What are you doing?" he stammers, his voice betraying a hint of nervousness.
With deliberate slowness, you withdraw your hand, bringing with it a pack of meticulously rolled documents. His eyebrows furrow, and he starts to object, "Pockets have a purpose—"
"Silence, traitor." You slap him across the face with the rolled paper, earning a lip bite. "This is the proof. Documents, photos, all of it evidence of your crimes, of your betrayal."
You fail to hide your excitement, and Satan's eyes widen further, realization dawning on him. "...You've been planning this."
You shake your head and manage a disappointed expression. "I was hoping you'd come to your senses. I vouched for you time and time again but now it seems you've left me no choice."
Satan replies with resignation, "What are you going to do, kill me?"
"Unfortunately, you're of no use to me dead," you explain, moving with deliberate slowness as you circle around him, the echo of your footsteps only adding to the rising anticipation. Reaching the table behind him, you slide a sleek black briefcase towards you and pop open the clasp. You brush your hand over its contents, hand lingering on the arrangement of electro stim toys. "However," you continue, "your crimes will not go unpunished."
***
Satan whimpers as you stroke him again, flinching back when the shock transfers from your finger attachments to the shaft of his cock. Your other hand maneuvers a wand across his body, lingering on his chest and dancing around his nipples. Physically, he’s a mess. His demon form manifested involuntarily about four ruined orgasms ago, and now his tail lashes out aimlessly around the legs of his chair, mostly because he knows you’ll worsen the punishment if he tries to touch himself with it. His hair clings to the sweat coating his forehead, eyes once again blindfolded but failing to conceal the tears of frustration rolling down his cheeks.
When his breath gets irregular and he starts bucking his hips against the restraints, you pull back all at once. He cries out at the loss of touch and moans in discomfort, a sign that you have once again effectively ruined his orgasm.
With a predatory smirk, you lean in close, your breath hot against his ear. “How about this: I’ll let you go, but only if you can count up to the exact sum of money you embezzled. Starting at one and ending, hm, somewhere around a couple hundred thousand?”
Satan’s hips give one last weak thrust, which you discourage by slapping his cock and watching it bounce back against his abdomen. He whimpers. "Please, M-MC, I—I need to come. It hurts. I—"
You make a shushing sound, effectively quieting him. "You're breaking character, detective. Now let’s hear those numbers. One…" You start stroking him again.
#satan obey me#obey me smut#obey me#obey me! satan#obeyme!satan#om! satan#satan x mc#satan x reader#kinktober 23#kinktober 2023#sub!satan#sub!obey me#sub obey me#sub satan
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So, I got an idea for a request, an Au with Adam as Demeter, the Greek G̶o̶d̶d̶e̶s̶s̶ God of agriculture.
So this takes place right after the whole Lucifer and Lilith Incident. Adam is left reeling from the betrayal of his first friend (yeah "friend") and his other half. The angels tell him that they will make him a new companion, but he doesn't want a replacement, he wonders what he did to deserve them both leaving him (developing those abandonment issues already, I see).
But with a sudden great and mighty crack of thunder and lightning, Adam disappears from Eden and appears in Mount Orthys. He is found by Rhea, who is tired of all her kids haven been eaten by her husband Kronos and decided to take him in, before being found out and promptly being eaten whole, joining the others (except Demeter because she doesn't exist and is replaced by Adam) in Kronos stomach even though he's not thier sibling.
Back in Eden, the entirety of Heaven is freaking out because the first man is just gone. He's nowhere in Eden. He just disappeared under their noses. Once they
calm down, decide since they already made Eve as a replacement for Lilith, they can just make a replacement for Adam. Using Eve's rib, they create Steve and erase Adam and Lilith from history, their titles of first man and woman now belonging to Eve and Steve.
When Lucifer breaks into Eden, he succeeds convincing Eve to bite the apple, but when he tells her to give it to Adam as well (definitely not because he's a yandere for him and is his top priority), Eve asks who Adam is.
Eve: Adam? Who is that?
Lucifer: ...Adam? You know the first man??
Eve: You mean my husband Steve! He's the first man, not whoever this 'Adam' is
Lucifer:....what.
*I've already thought of more scenarios with this Au, but this is already pretty long, so i'll stop it here
Now, you kinda need to give me more, but this is beautiful. I love the idea of Adam becoming a God. Rhea slowly feeds him a special salve that turns him immortal. And while technically he is Adam, the god of agriculture and farming. He also had another name that he went by. The Reaper. It's where the scythe originated from. He reaps the fields and it's up to him on whether you have plentiful food or a drought that year.
He came across Persephone and immediately adopted her as his own once he saw how innocent she was to the world. She reminded him so much of Lucifer of someone he once knew but he couldn't put his finger on it.
She was creative with Spring. Such beautiful flowers came from her. The angels may have may have made the earth, but the gods were what kept it going. Kept it from dying. The angels in Heaven thought that they did a good job making the world and the universe but it was Adam's family that kept it from perishing. He had a family in the gods. They treated Adam as one of their own.
Until one day, Persephone gets kidnapped and taken to Hell. Adam is on a war path. He will find his daughter and the gods are backing him up.
The entirety of Hell shakes and splits open as twelve-foot-tall people radiating power and light storm in, all wielding weapons that, despite not being angelic weapons, are powerful enough to kill sinners.
They will find Persephone.
Meanwhile, Lucifer soon catches wind of these godly beings and goes to confront them. He sees Adam for the first time since the dawn of Eden and nearly has a heart attack. Adam. The first man. He was back.
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Arguments- Ayato
featuring:- Kamisato Ayato, fem!Y/N
warnings:- angst, fluff, a small argument
a/n:- and this, is my birthday gift to @kazuuaki , happy birthday bestie! <3 Enjoy your day! (Was originally gonna make this a breakup but changed my mind~) It's short, I know- but it's all i managed to do
masterlist
“You should take a break, ‘Yato. You’ve been working for hours nonstop.” You said, concerned about your boyfriend. He seemed like he’d had enough, the expression on his face anything but pleasant. Wanting him to unwind for a bit, you suggested, “Maybe we could go for a short walk along the beach? That would surely freshen you up a bit.”
“Get out.” he said coldly, eyes never leaving the countless papers scattered around his desk. “You’re disturbing me. These papers have to reach the Shogun by nightfall, I don’t have to time to rest, and you’re suggesting a walk? Idiot. Can you not see how busy I am?” He hadn’t had a break in ages, was completely sleep deprived (like me), big bags under his eyes and incredibly pissed off in general, increasing your worry for him. You tried again. “‘Yato, that’s why I’m saying you should relax for a bit. Some fresh air would do you good, you’re very agitated right now.” “Of course I am!” He snapped, slamming his hands on his cluttered desk as he stood to look at you. “You’ve been such a nuisance recently, you know that? Always nagging me, ‘Yato do this, ‘Yato do that. Can’t you take a hint and leave me alone?”
He missed the hurt that flashed in your eyes as you swiveled around. “Alright, Ayato, I’ll leave you alone.” You immediately left and banged the door shut behind you. And leave him alone you certainly did.
~⟬◍⟭~
It was early dawn, and the cold grey light filtered through the windows of Ayato’s dark office. He’d been there the entire night, and had just managed to dispatch that set of papers to Inazuma City. Leaning back in his chair, he thought of how you’d scold him for his unhealthy habits, before he remembered the way he’d snapped at you, and the hurtful things he’d said. Shit, he didn’t mean any of that, if anything, it touched him how you always looked out for him. He really owed you an apology, big time. He walked out of the office for the first time since yesterday’s lunch, and went straight to your quarters, knocking on the door. “Love, are you there? Can I talk to you?” He received no response. “Love?” He tried again.
Just then Thoma passed by, confused on seeing Ayato knocking fruitlessly on your door. “Milord, [Y/N] isn’t here. I believe she mentioned yesterday night that she was going out for a bit, somewhere around Watatsumi Island? It was weird, but she was also acting weird so I let her be. She also added that she had some urgent business there.”
“Oh..” Ayato murmured. “Alright.” But his heart did not calm down, the bad feeling in the pit of his stomach increasing. You two were dating. Surely you’d come back, right? Right?
~⟬◍⟭~
Wrong. It had been days, yet you still hadn’t returned. Ayato grew more and more worried with every passing hour. Were you safe? You hadn’t been ambushed or anything, had you? Were you upset? Were you angry with him? Had he really messed up that bad? Surely he didnt…
A week passed, and Ayato couldn’t take it anymore. He handed over the duties of the Yashiro Commission to Ayaka for a while, and set off for Watatsumi Island on a waverider in the dead of night. It took him an entire day to reach there, frantically searching for his beloved along the way. The moment he docked on the shores of Watatsumi Island, he immediately started searching around for your whereabouts, not even caring about hunger or thirst. Fear was the only thing he felt, a fear of you leaving him. The soldiers looked so confused on seeing the Yashiro Commissioner running around, but did not question it. One helpful recruit told him that she was wandering near the Sangonomiya Shrine, and off he was.
“[Y/N]!” He exclaimed, on finally, finally, catching sight of you sitting beneath a tree, a butterfly perched on your finger. The loud sound he made startled away the butterfly, and you looked up at him, before getting up and walking away without a word. “[Y/N], wait please, can I talk to you, please?” He pleaded, catching up to you. You merely shook off his hand and continued walking. “Why are you here, Kamisato Ayato.” You said coldly. “Your wish was for me to leave you alone, and I did that. Why are you following me then?” “[Y/N], I messed up, I know, can you please hear me out? I never meant any of that, I really didn’t, I swear. I was just really anxious and irritated and worried, and I let it out on you. I swear, I’ve been regretting it with every fibre of my being. I love you, you know that, I love you so much, you can never be a nuisance to me, in fact, you’re my saving grace. If I could take back everything I said, if I could turn back time, I would. [Y/N], please, could you forgive me? Please come back to me? I can’t live without you…”
Your eyes involuntarily softened as you stepped back a bit to observe him. He seemed even more tired and upset than the last time you’d seen him, if that was even possible. But this time, there was desperation painted on his features. “Ayato, you really hurt me, you know that right? I was worried for you, all I was trying to do was help you out. So when you snapped at me, I felt really terrible.” You told him quietly. He instantly said, “I know, I realised that. You have no idea how much I appreciate you always looking out for me. I never ever wanted to hurt you. I’m sorry… I’m really, really sorry [Y/N].” He whispered.
You sighed, extending your arms, hugging him tightly. “Come here, ‘Yato.” , and his heart nearly burst on hearing that nickname again after more than a week. He buried his face in your neck, relishing that warm and soft embrace of yours after so long. You gently ran your hands through his hair. “Apology accepted. But you better not do it again, or else-” “I won’t.” He quickly said. “Did I tell you how much I love that nickname?”
You returned with him to the Yashiro Estate, and ever since then, Ayato had been so much sweeter, always minding his words, and spoiling you rotten, despite your protests. But you accepted it, happy to be with your caring boyfriend again.
hehe kazu, i hoped you liked it, even tho its not much :)
#skylia's works#genshin impact#genshin#genshin angst#genshin fluff#genshin hurt/comfort#genshin ayato#kamisato ayato#ayato#ayato x reader#genshin oneshots#genshin scenarios#genshin drabbles#genshin fanfic#genshin imagines#birthday gift for:- kazu#happy birthday kazu!
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A Modern Love Story
A Lee Minho Fanfic
m.list
Sequel to The Gratitude Series
WC: 3.6k words
Characters: Lee Minho X Fem reader
Genre: Fluff
Triggers/Warnings: Mentions of nightmares
Entails: Established relationship, pet names, hugging, they're in love.
You’re not a writer, but if you could compile all the moments you were so deeply in love, you would do so. And it would be messy, imperfect, blunt, and out of order, but it would be yours. It’s no grand fairytale, but a modern love story, just as you like it.
i. Thank you for looking at me when you needed comfort.
Words of affirmation are your love language, and acts of service his, but you feel utterly helpless when he's so broken. You don't know what will help ease his hapless cries, but you want to be there for him.
“Hey,” you call out softly. No answer. You go further and plant your feet in the middle of the room.
You and Minho had been together for a short time, a little over a month. It is still a delight whenever you're reminded that he's yours now. The both of you were slowly warming up to each other, but there was still a considerable distance between you two. As though you hadn't dared to go near a line that meant you were truly in it, together. It would mean you were vulnerable and bare, unguarded around the other.
But that changed when you came home to a very tired-looking Minho on the couch, who was utterly drained from the day's events.
Your first reaction was to give him space and time to collect himself. But then it dawned on you that the way you want to be given comfort is not the same way he would expect it.
Carefully, you tread across the room till you reach him and with the tenderness you reserved only for him, you hesitantly card your fingers in his hair and whisper his name.
Minho was so out of it that he failed to register you coming in. He was just lying there on the couch, too tired to even take off his jacket. He was so exhausted, he felt like he could lay that way for hours on end and suddenly he felt your presence.
He feels your fingers in his hair and the caress of his syllables on your tongue. He doesn't know how to react.
He never expected that you'd catch him in his messiest state. He wants to brush this off, play off his embarrassment as nothing and just when he opens his mouth, you beat him to it and ask
"Want me to stay or give you space?"
His lips part at your words. That was the first time you’d spoken to him without stammering. He always thought it cute. But then, if you were going to speak to him like that, in clever but thoughtful sentences, he was going to think you were running after his heart. You give him a small but reassuring smile after and he just…breaks.
Maybe it was the gentleness you handled him with or the considerate question you asked him. The answer to which lay within his choice.
Either way, he can't stop it when fresh tears spring to his eyes and trail down his cheeks before he can stop them. He ducks his head in embarrassment.
He was sure you'd look at him in a different light, and distance yourself from him. Although the logical part of his brain assures him that you're way too kind and understanding to do that, his emotions get the best of him and he cries more.
You concede by wrapping your arms around him and laying his head on your shoulder for now. You were in quite an uncomfortable position. Your office chair was not the most comfortable, and your legs were feeling the impact of it then. But that wasn’t important.
Right then, you simply hold him, knowing that he's capable of picking himself up but being there to help him share the burden of his weight. You tighten your hold around him when he takes in deep breaths, only for sobs to wrack him. You lightly run your fingers on his scalp, until he calms down and you're both sitting in silence.
"You okay now?" you ask him softly, and he almost says yes.
But he doesn't, because he's too warm and cosy in your embrace. He goes with the truth.
"M’better, will be okay" his words come out muffled due to his face resting on your collarbone.
He sighs happily and nuzzles his face in further. You smile. Even though you can’t see his face, you’re sure he’s blushing. You understand and lay your head on his shoulder, and he wraps his arms around you. The both of you stay there for a while, in each other's arms.
After a few minutes, you make a move to get up but he holds you, not letting you go. He looks up at you, and you're at a loss for words.
You'd always known Minho was beautiful. He'd taken your breath away completely multiple times, like when he took you to his home for the first time and you melted at the way he looked at his cats. Or the time when he'd monitored his performance in the camera, eyes unblinking as he analysed himself. His gaze had always left you breathless, evident by the way you could not hold eye contact with him for long.
But the way he was looking at you now, you had no words to describe it. His eyes were soft and raw, begging you to stay. His pupils were dilated, and he looked at you with such intense affection and love. You wanted to capture this moment forever. But instead, you brushed his hair back from his eyes and told him that you were going to be back. He pouts and you almost relent but he loosens his hold on you.
"Come back soon." he pleads and you nod.
You get up from the couch and go into the kitchen, looking for a clean tumbler. Once you find it, you fill it just below its brim with water and hurry to the living room.
You thought he'd not want to initiate more contact, but the moment you're within arm's reach, he pulls you in until you're sitting in his lap. You yelp, precariously holding the glass so no water spills out.
He pays no mind to the glass and simply rests his shoulder in the crook of your neck.
You suddenly feel shy at the action, feeling like hiding away until your cheeks are no longer burning. You were no stranger to physical touch, but it was the first time he was touching you so much and it made your heart race.
"Drink up" you tell him, holding out the glass of water.
He makes no move to take it. He just tilts his head slightly and you understand. You bring the glass to his lips and he takes sips, and then gulps of the water until it is empty. The entire time, he never once loosens his grip around you. Suddenly you feel warm all over, especially in your chest.
When he finishes, he licks his lips and looks at you. "Thank you" he says, and you reply with an automatic
"You're not welcome."
You don’t register the words coming out of your mouth. You’re too busy tracing his now-dried tears. His eyes crinkle with a tiny smile at your words, amused at the way you phrase your words. Even distracted, you never fail to banter with him. You look up and grin, feeling a bit giddy at the fact that you made him smile. Out of all the people in his life, you were the one who got to make him smile.
“Now what?" He asks, eyes no longer sad, but bright. You breathe a little easier.
"I dunno. What’d you wanna do?"
“Hmm” he makes a show of thinking loudly.
You just stare at him, not bothering to cover the awe in your gaze. He looks at you, a single eyebrow raised.
"What?" you grin wider and before you think too much of it, you place a peck on his lips.
He stops moving entirely. You think you've overstepped your boundaries and go to apologise for kissing him without his consent first, but he stops you when he places his lips on yours.
He kisses you softly. His cracked lips are rough, but welcoming on your own. The sensation of kissing him is like soothing a wound you didn’t know you had acquired. He kisses you until you have to break apart for air. He makes no move to stop until you push him lightly. You feel like your entire body is aflame.
"We don’t need to stop." he says, despite his ears turning scarlet. Heat rushes to your face and you lightly hit him. He makes no move to dodge it, and you see a familiar glint of mischief in his irises.
"I almost forgot how to breathe." you say while fanning yourself, eyes not meeting his.
He just smirks, hands still on your waist. He feels great at having made you shy.
Minho makes up his mind on what he wants to do.
“We have two options" he says, and you pause your movements.
He waits a bit more for dramatic effect and says "Option one: I'll make dinner and you can help me" and you grin, nodding.
"Option two: " he drawls out slowly
"We eat each other for dinner".
You blanch and remind him, “I’m not into cannibalism, you know?”.
He pays no heed to your words. his mind is somewhere in a place filled with your eyes and your soft touch, and his eyes are on your lips. It still amazes you, how he can switch up in an instant. You roll your eyes, even as you hold up one finger.
"One." you say, moving away from him. He pouts in reply.
"Only option two is available. It's irresistible." he says earnestly grabbing your hand.
He can’t believe you didn’t choose option two. You're not charmed by his attempts. But you're very endeared, both by his pout and his now-red ears. You go back and grab him by the fabric of his shirt. He stills in place.
"If you want, we can choose option two after dinner.” You say nonchalantly as possible and make your exit. He just blinks and his ears burn. You drive him crazy. He wanted you to keep driving him crazy.
A moment later, he’s hot on his heels, chasing after you. With his heart in tow.
ii. Thanks to you, I’m looking at myself for the first time through your eyes.
“Baby I’m going to get groceries. You want anything?”, you call out while writing your grocery list. He comes into the kitchen and looks over your shoulder. “No?” he questions, more to himself than to you. You’re momentarily distracted by his face, but you snap your head towards your list before he notices. You were still way too flustered around him.
“Do you have ingredients for if you decide to cook?” you ask, still writing down stuff, except your grip on the pen is now tighter. Thanks to him, your Adonis of a boyfriend.
“Your handwriting is nice.”, he claims, as though it is a fact as true as time, even as he ducks under the cabinets to cover his flushed face.
The world stops, then resumes spinning on its axis. You exhale softly.
“Really?”
The words come out a minute later than you intended. Lots of people had said the same thing to you before, the same words thrown around lightly.
But coming from him, you feel as though your handwriting is actually nice. You were used to your slants and the cursive, the font as familiar to you as the back of your hand. Nothing special about it. Now, you fall in love all over again with your own lettering, delighting in each form of the alphabet. With him, everything was new, even parts of yourself that you had grown used to. Loving him was coming back home, in the truest sense of the word.
“Thank you.”
He nods.
A moment later, “Can you get me pudding?”
iii. I like your company
Minho is sulking around the house, for reasons unknown to you. This is the fifth time he’s sighed so loudly in the last three minutes, the sound. And as much as his pout is adorable, you don’t want him to be upset.
Turning the television off, you get off the couch and make your way to the bedroom.
He sits there, nearly engulfed by the pile of blankets he’s surrounded himself with. The visual makes you smile.
“Why are you sighing baby?”
“Because you left me when I decided to watch a movie.”
“You were the one who declined my company remember?”
“I didn’t think you’d actually go. I wanted to watch it with you.” He says it like a confession he didn’t intend to make, one he’d hoped to keep in the secret chambers of his heart.
Your self-satisfied stance softens entirely.
“Baby I didn’t know you were teasing me. I thought you wanted some alone time.”
He just presses his lips into a line, and says, “I don’t want to be alone, even when I say so. I just want you with me.” He looks at a distant spot above your head, everywhere except your eyes.
Your eyes crinkle at that, all faux smugness gone. “I won’t know until you tell me, love. Unfortunately, I’m not inntinsic-“
“What’s inntinsic?” he interrupts, and you just give up on what you were going to say, the words forgotten.
You were a goner from the time he took interest in every word you said and carefully listened. You loved to use new words you’d learnt from reading, and every time you mentioned a new one, Minho would interrupt you mid-sentence to demand to know what it meant. It was cute, the way he didn’t want to wait until you were done speaking to understand it, like he wouldn’t miss a fraction of a second with the knowledge of you.
However, thinking back on your words, you just realized that whatever you used was not a real word. You just quoted a book,…and he didn’t know.
“Oh um, never mind. I meant to say telepathic. Inntinsic is…not a real word.” You want to bury yourself in a burrow at the end of the world and disappear.
“You’re using fantasy words now? What about all the times you tricked me? My reputation is at stake, Name.” He’s now sitting up, sounding all cocky at your little slip-up.
Minho knows that you’re meticulous about your grammar, and he hopes to tease you enough so you grant him a shove, a touch, anything. He acts like you’re at his mercy, when really he’s at your mercy, a puppet with the strings entwined in your fingers.
You tsk “I take it you don’t want to watch a movie with me? Great thanks. I’m off now.” Giving him a mock salute, you attempt to bolt out the door.
He laughs and catches you before you can get away. He grips your waist from the edge of the bed and you come crashing into his chest. He tickles you relentlessly, and you squirm in his hold, tears leaking from your eyes. “STOP, stop, please-“
Your shared laughter spills into the air, as the invisible stars in the evening sky bear witness to your glee.
Damn him and his strong arms, you think. But then again, if you’d exercised a little you wouldn’t be in this situation. He was big and warm in his blanket fort. Who were you to refuse?
After you finally catch a break, his eyes rove over you, full of affection. You look away, the eye contact too intense. He smirks at that, and you pretend not to see it, clearing your throat for no reason.
“I call dibs on choosing the movie.”
“We’re watching Home Alone? AGAIN? I thought we talked about thi-”
“Oh shush. It’s starting.”
iv. Walk with me through my nightmares
Your home was empty, except for the petals of lilies scattered around the entire place. You call out to someone, but no one answers. You remember something. Entwined hands, warm shirts, him. Suddenly you’re not at home, but in a dark alley, the entire place pitch black if not for the soft moonlight. You’re standing in front of him. He offers you his hand. You want to take it, but you can’t seem to lift your hands. You try again, but your hand doesn’t budge. You look at him, mouth opening to tell him but strangely, no words come out. He’s retracting his hand and you want to tell him to stay. You try to scream, but it stays lodged in your throat. He turns around, against your wishes. You stay still, even as he goes out of sight. Don’t go, don’t go. Please
You open your eyes, sweating, as you feel something patting your cheek repeatedly. Taking a few deep breaths, you grab something closest to you. An arm, Minho’s arm. You clutch it with your hands. He’s with you, he’s here. Minho holds you tightly, bringing your head to his chest. He rocks you slightly as you try to ground yourself. After a few minutes, he slowly detaches you from his hold, getting up from the bed. You’re too tired to ask him why, sending him a questioning look instead. He merely tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, hand patting your head while telling you to wait.
You sit back against the headboard, as you sleepily try to stay awake.
Hot. It was too hot. You needed air.
You abruptly wake up from the bed, the duvet falling off you. You take one, two, three wobbly steps before you come crashing down on the floor. You wince, rubbing your knee where it hurt from the fall, but the sensation of the cold floor feels nice. You sit there, unmoving, trying to make sense of what just happened. You had a nightmare. A really bad one at that. And you don’t know if you can fall asleep again.
Minho was jolted awake when you were whimpering in your sleep, your entire form trembling. This is the first time he’s seen you going through a nightmare, and he’s grateful that he got to be there for you. What was he supposed to do? You’d like some water, right? He could get you some water. When he returns to the room, glass in hand, he sees you curled up on the marble floor, shivering.
He quickly scoops you up in his arms, and you cling to him like a baby. His lips twitch at that, but he knows better than to tease you in this state. Depositing you on the bed, he brings the glass to your lips as you take in greedy gulps of the water. After you’re done, he wipes your lips and tucks you into bed wordlessly. You don’t have the heart to tell him that you can’t fall asleep. You simply close your eyes and stay still, as he gets back into the sheets, tugs you closer until your foreheads meet, and falls asleep.
But you stay awake. The sounds are too much, the absent hum of the air conditioner, the rustling of the bedcovers, faraway sounds of a vehicle.
You put both your hands into your ears and shut your eyes. When you start to think that maybe you might not get to sleep, Minho starts talking, even as his eyes are closed.
“Do you think maybe we should change the curtains tomorrow?”
You’re confused. You respond with a meek “Huh?”
“The curtains. We put them on during spring, I think we can put up different ones for winter. We can decorate the whole house too, if you’d like.” Minho’s voice drowns out the rest of the incessant noise. The rhythm of your heart stutters, then starts again.
He was trying to talk you to sleep. And it was working. Your eyes slowly drift shut, even as you fight to stay awake. You love him, so much. And you want to let him know.
You tap him thrice on the arm. I love you. You do it again. You hope he understands.
He opens on eye to look at you, confused. You tap him again, I love you. Maybe it was your sleep riddled brain, but you swore you felt him tap you back, a smile adorning his face.
v. I don’t want an epilogue. I just want to wake up with you, for the rest of my life.
Weeks pass by, and the leaves outside droop and fall, painting the ground yellow and crimson. Soon enough, as the world outside begins to be covered in snow, your life slowly becomes coloured in the shades of love.
The hues of your love were mellow, but not monochromatic. They were the colour of the sea in spring, when both of you were feeling blue, wordlessly being with each other. They were the colour of his warm eyes, whenever the both of you sat on the kitchen counter, hands trying to eat popsicles before they melted, even as your teeth chattered. They were the colour of the first rays of sunlight, when his arm reached for your waist and your hands reached for his hair, limbs tangled together under the duvet.
These little moments were your favourite. Because it was just you and him. A thousand thoughts roamed your mind, but the thoughts of him prevailed, always. And you hoped it would be so until the end of time. Until the end of your time.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
© booksndpoetry 2024. All rights reserved. Please do not plagiarise, translate, repost or steal my works in any way. All idols used in this piece are just inspiration for characters. They do not reflect the real people in any way.
#+booksndpoetry#straykidsland#stray kids fanfiction#skz lee minho#lee know x y/n#lee know x reader#lee know fluff#stayblr#writing#skz imagines#skz#writeblr#stray kids
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