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#not too fond of this but it works well with the prompt!
kezzzx · 1 day
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6 for the new writing prompt?
Hello friend! Thank you for playing :)
6. Listening to them rant
“I’m just saying, it’s absolutely ridiculous that they won’t listen to me on principle. Just because I’m the youngest person on the council doesn’t automatically mean that I’m wrong.” Wylan pauses his rant, breathing harshly. 
Jesper can’t help but smile to himself, endlessly fond. Wylan is always beautiful, but he’s especially beautiful when he’s passionate about something, even when that something is the fact that the merchant council are (largely) a bunch of old, white, arrogant men who think that they know best. There’s a flush on Wylan’s cheeks, two bright spots of pink that Jesper will forever find endearing, and he’s gesturing wildly with his fork instead of actually eating with it.
“If they’d just stop being so Ghezen-damned prejudiced and listened to people who might, in fact, know better than them…” he trails off again, noticing the expression on Jesper’s face. “Why are you looking at me like that?” 
“Like what?” Jesper asks around a mouthful of potato. 
“I don’t know, like you’re amused by me, or something.” 
Shrugging, Jesper says, “I just think you’re pretty when you get worked up about something.” 
“I’m sorry, I should stop talking. Why don’t you tell me what you’ve been up to today?” Wylan ducks his head and shovels some food into his mouth. 
“No, no.” Jesper shakes his head firmly. “I’ve told you, you don’t need to apologise for talking. I’m listening to you, love. I am. And you’re right, the council has been stuck in their ways for far too long, and it’s about time that they paid attention to someone else’s opinions.” 
If it’s even possible, Wylan’s cheeks pink even more. 
Jesper reaches across the table and takes his hand. “Tell me about your ideas, I’m sure you have some.” 
“Of course I do. Well, I spoke with Karl and Mikhail earlier and they said…” 
Sitting back, Jesper smiles as Wylan starts to talk again. His eyes are shining, alight with energy as he tells Jesper about his ideas for the council, sending him a withering look when Jesper suggests telling them all where to shove it. Jesper could listen to him talk all day and never tire of it, so he nods in agreement and interjects with his own thoughts, and encourages his brilliant boyfriend to keep talking well into the night.
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hayzeydayzey · 2 years
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"Heart" for @themiserablesmonth
Courfeyrac from a few weeks ago!
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kyumisyumi · 4 months
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Tentacles and Tendrils
Shaking off the rust and giving monster smut(writing in general) a shot again.
Prompt: monster partner is in rut/heat and the partner has to deal with it
Rating: 18+
Monster type: M!Merfolk x F!Reader
Word count: 6k
~Taking requests~
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     You stare out at the unending, blue horizon. The cool ocean breeze preparing you for the temperatures of its water as you linger along the edge. You wore the company certified diving gear: a wetsuit, mask, BCD, the works. A spear weighed down one hand while a cylindrical container weighed on your shoulder. Hope and pessimism fought to be at the forefront of your mind as you scan the empty waters with heavy disappointment. This area was always relatively vacant, but not too far off you can spot a duo entering the water with matching gear. Their actions take you out of your haze, and with another gauge check you finally approach the water. Getting a feel for the sea's surge, you make your way in. And with practiced hands you slipped on your fins before turning to greet the seas with outstretched arms.
     Beneath the blue your body instantly goes into autopilot. Swimming was as natural as walking and these seas might as well have been a second home; a wayward beauty that will switch it's mood at a moments notice but home nonetheless. You took it all in, familiar as it may be, the ocean never stopped being a sight to behold. A world beneath our own full of wonderful blues, outstretched greens and terrifying blacks. The current had a bit of force behind it but nothing near the cruelty you knew any large body of water could deal. Your darting eyes couldn't help but search around, scanning everywhere for even just a hint of... There! You moved with haste. As much as you could as a land dwelling animal in aquatic terrain. You didn't get far before the shape you eagerly chased revealed itself to be just a particularly thick and unruly swatch of seaweed. You sigh internally before resolving to begin your original task.
     Nearing a gorgeous station of coral, you couldn't help but linger and watch the busyness. Schools of varicolored, itty bitty fish swimming through the equally colorful pseudo-flora. Despite your love for marine life, you never quite learnt the names of all the little guys much less how to differentiate between them, say for a handful that stick out. Your interest was usually for the larger lifeforms mother nature had to offer; you smiled as you watched a wary grey eel eye you with suspicion. Soon your eyes fell upon your reason for being here. It's bright red colors were slightly muted by the depths, with white tiger stripes outlined by black to break up the pattern. Its form was lined with spines and frills that flowed and fluttered with each graceful swish of it's body; an absolutely gorgeous creature. You readied your spear. The black strap trigger pressed into your skin as you carefully aimed, hoping not to hit anything but the target. It helped that the lionfish lingered in one spot before you speared it. You moved to put it in the container before opting to offer it to the eel you saw earlier. As gorgeous - and delicious - as they were, these guys were invasive here and the effects of their persistence was a constant strain to the native wildlife. They seemed highly concentrated around this sandy patch of substrate, driftwood and dead coral. It didn't take long after the first few kills for one of your friends to make their way over. Gently, you caressed the top of the nurse shark eyeing your spare eagerly, this one you named Lisa... or maybe it was Madeline. It was no surprise your face blindness extended to animals as well, even the cute ones that made your dives feel a little less lonely. The creature began gliding and swirling around you. You liked to believe the fondness was mutual but it was equally likely they were just in it for a meal. You speared another lionfish and offered it to the grey and white cutie.
     The spot you were in. The shark. The scenario. It brought back the memory of the first time you saw him.
     Back then you were collecting lionfish, same as now with a duo of nurse sharks tailing your every movement. At the time you were overly cautious, so you'd sit in one place, removing the venomous spines of the fish before handing them over. You could see him out of the corner of your eye, he'd been there for quite a while, watching you. From his position partially behind the rocks, you'd think he was hiding -or rather, on the defensive- but you just can't imagine something that big and powerful hiding from tiny 'ol you. Yes you had a spear but you doubt it would do you much good if he decided to attack. Merfolk. Given your job at the Aquatic Wildlife Center you were relatively familiar with them. Your company was more than welcoming when programs were made for them- as well as the other species- who showed interest in coexisting during the realm migration. The Merfolk you were familiar with, however, had to undergo numerous lessons on etiquette and culture to live among humans. The one near you now... The word 'feral' came to mind. You didn't quite like using such an animalistic term towards something that looked a little too human, someone that you knew had equivalent intelligence. His skin was primarily muted greens with a burst of parchment white down his chest and undersides of his arms. Unlike the fish tails merfolk were known for, this one's body ended in a myriad of tentacles, not unlike an octopus. Height wasn't exactly something you could measure but in terms of body mass he was more than twice your own. He seemed to tense any time you held direct eye contact so you settled on keeping him in your peripheral and keeping your movements slow and measured. You're not sure what he wanted but if he was content to just watch you, you didn't mind.
     The next time you went out for a dive he'd made another appearance, this time resting on the rocks instead of behind them. Looking at the way his tentacles gently swayed against the current, you realise the way they'd writhed restlessly the day before may have been a sign of anxiety. It tickled you that somehow, in his mind, you were a threat to be worried about. You'd never even been in a proper fight. His relaxed demeanor gave you a bit of courage and you contemplated offering him one of the lionfish but ultimately chose not to. Doing so would feel as though you were treating him like an animal at the petting zoo. Then again, he was watching you like an animal at a regular zoo, keeping his distance as if he thought you'd lash out at any opportunity. You focused on the task at hand. Either the sharks had developed more patience or they were full from yesterday, this time they seemed more interested in dawdling around and getting pets than playing Russian roulette with your spear. You'd gotten into a rhythm of pull, aim, release as you moved slowly across the sandy substrate with him never too far behind.
     On the third day he was almost as close as the sharks were. There was still a respectful distance but you'd only have to reach out your hand to touch him. Despite your determination to hold strong as he approached there was a hint of fear in your eyes when he first got closer. He wasn't threatening but the size difference was all to blatant up close, his chest so broad and arms so thick you didn't doubt they could snap you in half like an oatmeal cookie. In response he seemed to try to make himself look smaller, drifting at a lower level so that his head wasn't much higher than yours. This gave you a good look at his features, he had round pupils unlike the rectangular slits you associated with octopi, his sclera was a light grey and his irises a saffron yellow on downturned eyes. He didn't seem to have any patchwork of iridescent scales like your work colleagues. His eyes aside, everything about his face was sharp, from the hooked nose to the prominent chin and brow bone. As curious as you were, you tried not to look any lower than the slits along his neck; gills, in case your gaze made him uncomfortable. You briefly wondered if he'd try to say something once he got closer but he didn't, he just looked back with a gesture you interpreted as 'continue'. So you did.
There actually weren't anymore lionfish nearby so you decided to take a moment to clip the spines of the one on your spear, hoping to feed it to Joel the eel... or maybe this was Geoffrey. He took this lull in your movement as an opportunity to interact. You stared wide eyed as his hands reached out. It looked as though he was going to reach for your spear but thought better of it and reached out for your free hand instead. He took your smaller hand into his much larger ones. He inspected each finger, pulling them apart and tracing the curve in between, where his held a thin membrane. He ran a thumb over your blunt nails, where his held thick black claw. His movements were slow - cautious - and you get the feeling that it was more for your benefit than his. Wary as you were, you were equally enthused to learn more of the  man... fish... octopus being before you.  He inspected the sleeve of your wetsuit, running his fingers over the material. When it seemed like he was going to pinch the fabric between two claws you tugged your hand away, shaking your head in hopes the gesture was universal. Thankfully he understood. He then circled you to take in the rest of your form, a possible sign he understood touching anywhere else on your body might be unwelcomed. 
Unsurprisingly, he took particular interest in your legs, watching the way they swayed to keep you afloat. He didn't touch you yet you somehow felt pressure over every inch his eyes laid upon. Was this how your coworker felt during those awkward introductory meetings where there would always be one person asking to touch their fins. The memory made you giggle and the merman suddenly shifted his focus from your legs to your face. Your breath caught as his eyes focused on yours, it was mesmerizing how they looked as fluid as the ocean; the colors swaying as the black center zeroed in on you. For a moment you wondered what did you look like through those eyes. He raised a hand to rest his knuckles against your cheek. His gaze then lowered to your lips. Your body -so ready to flee when he first approached- now froze. No matter how much you tried to reinforce that his actions were of innocent curiosity you couldn't stop thinking they weren't. Or maybe you just hoped they weren't. Oh dear. Before you could figure out where your head was at, he pressed a thumb against your lips. There was a subtle shift in his features as he stared at you intently. A question? Was he asking to kiss you? Your heart sprinted. He wanted to kiss you... and you- you were actually considering it. You must be insane; yes you thought he was gorgeous in a unnatural -captivating- way but you weren't going to kiss a creature you haven't known for more than a few hours. You hadn't even exchanged words with him. Words... Oh! That was it! You would've face palmed  if your hands weren't occupied. He wished to speak, and prior knowledge reminded you that merfolk could adapt a language through lip contact. Well, that cleared your brain a bit. If that's the case surely you could spare your lips for a moment. It wouldn't have to be long, just the slightest peck was enough. A fraction of a second. He was patiently awaiting your answer, somewhat pulling back as if to tell you 'no' was a more than acceptable answer. With a tad more hesitation you finally nodded. You pulled out your mouth pieces, angling it downwards to prevent excess air loss. Trying to show some initiative you moved closer but you just couldn't bring yourself to close the kiss. Graciously he did and your lips met. Your rushing blood brought heat straight to your cheeks. It was such a minute amount of contact but your body responded as if he was already tongue deep inside. You felt... something. Like faint streams of electricity that moved from the corners of your lips to the center before vanishing. You figured it was the magic at work, now would be the time to move away but your body and brain can't seem to get on the same page. Or maybe they were on the same page and the voice telling you to move away was something foreign, something unwanted. You opened your eyes to see his, half lidded but looking at you with an intensity that couldn't be misconstrued. Neither of you wanted to break the contact. You're not sure where the confidence came from but just as you moved to press closer to him, your lungs reminded you where you were. They called for oxygen. It took more effort than you would like to admit to pull away from him and return your regulator to your mouth. You looked back at him to see his fingers pressed against his mouth, eyes swirling with mixed emotions. Maybe it was your eyes playing tricks on you but you swear he licked his lips. His adam's apple bobbed in his throat and he moved his lips as if testing the motions.
     "Can you understand me?"
     You nodded in the affirmative. And by Gods, the smile on his face could outshine the sun on a clear summer morning.
     This opened up the pathway to your budding friendship. Underwater, you couldn't have full conversations but with the barrage of questions he had there was hardly a need to speak. It especially amused you that he had to confirm that you were indeed human. Do humans walk everywhere? Do we forms pods? Do we dream? Do humans fly was a weird one to answer under the limitations. It was an eye opener to the fact that you were as alien to him as he you.
     At some point you remembered that you were on a timer and though there wasn't really a quota, resurfacing with only four lionfish would definitely not look good for you. You went back to spearing, trying to be quick while he asked about this and that. It only got better when you finally resurfaced. You perched on the old abandoned dock, it was barely more than a couple planks of wood hanging on for dear life. You were especially glad that this area remained as vacant as when you left so you didn't have to worry about worried/wondering gazes at the two of you.
     Unfortunately diving was only something you could do 2 maybe 3 times a week, it was essentially a freebie session offered to break up the office work you dread. Still, even after you clocked out, you'd take a stroll to that same dock where he'd be waiting beneath the surface. You learnt that, though most merfolk would declare otherwise, his species wasn't rare. Just distant and reclusive. The only reason he was close enough to the shore to spot me was because he seeked a precious stone to complete a trade. Based on his description you believed it was Larimar or Blue calcite, which you may have in your personal collection. When you asked why he decided to approach you, his answer was a sideways glance and a shrug before quickly changing the subject. There were moments, you noticed, when he'd rest his arms along the wooden planks and caress your overhanging legs. The movements were slow and feather light, almost absent minded. It made your mind fuzzy, you wished to just close your eyes and focus on nothing but the feel of his skin against yours. Occasionally, he would gently rake a claw over your soft skin and you'd try your best not to trip over your words. In return, you'd run your fingers over the mix of tentacles and tendrils that sprouted from his head- similar to hair. The prehensile limbs would wrap around your fingers. The gestures were unmistakably intimate but neither of you spoke against it. Amongst the many questions and conversations would be these moments of content silence, these you treasured most. His hands on you, your hands on his, as you both enjoyed the world around you and each other.
     Now those memories fill you with a hollow feeling in your chest. It's been almost a week with no sign of him. What had you expected, really? He has a life down below that he has to attend to after all. Even you have missed a day or two. What if he's hurt? The question gnawed at you many times these past few days; you despised the small part of you that preferred that outcome over having been left behind. But then the idea that somewhere down there he was facing unknown perils that you'd have no means to help him with would solidify in your mind. No, you'd rather the hurt of having been abandoned. Summoning your mental fortitude, you aimed to focus on the task at hand before you accidentally harm one of the sharks by being distracted. There was a new face this time... at least you thought they were new. They nuzzled your body as if sensing your distress and to your delight; it helped
     Seconds dragged into minutes then hours before it was time for you to get out. You wished you could say you were strong enough to just go but instead you swam around for a bit; hoping. Praying. But there was nothing around except you, the water and your pitiful heartache.
     Above land you safely shed the equipment. The smart thing to do would be to go home as soon as possible. To finish your day, change your clothes and curl up in blankets while playing some video games. However, you've always been a creature of habit so instead you sat at the old dock. Alone. The sun was so warm but the winds were relentless, they licked at your skin as if trying to shoo you away. Maybe this was Poseidon's way of telling you to get over it. It's not like there was anything between the two of you. You'd only known him for a handful of weeks after all, that's barely enough time to form a friendship much less... As if shutting down the thought, your brain replayed a memory of him pressing his face against the palm of your hand with pure bliss etched into his features. As if your touch alone could push away all his problems. Then there was the time you touched your forehead to his during a momentary spur of boldness. The look he gave you spoke so loud in the silence. You would've kissed him then if not for your shyness winning  out. That was one of the last moments you'd shared before his disappearance. A treasure in your heart that now caused you pain. Packing up your things, you got up to leave, however something clutched your ankle. Something, rather, someone you recognized all too well.
     You gasped violently as you were dragged down. Thank goodness you did because it was all the air you'd get to take with you in your rapid decent below. He shifted so instead of being pulled by his tentacles, you were fastened to his side by a firm arm. He stared straight forward as he swam, allowing you only to see the tendrils whipping around the back of his head. You could hardly process how fast you were going down the bottomless blue. The water shifted from a bright, comfortimg azure to ultramarine as you went deeper and deeper. Your panic rose the further he swam, which did your lungs no good. Was he trying to drown you!? You couldn't call out, couldn't scream so you tugged and pulled at his thick, unyielding arm, trying desperately to get him to stop. He turned to you then, there was a look of pained and haunted thoughts scribed into his face. The lovely grey of his sclera had darkened into a soulless black making the yellows of his eyes that more vibrant, almost glowing in the waters inky depth. The word 'feral' again came to mind as he blinked his second eyelids. He looked at you and looked at you and looked even more. As though his eyes processed one thing but his brain was stuck on something else. It took a moment but he finally said your name. Not said, growled it. His usually velvety deep voice was now strained through gravel. He pulled you closer to him and buried his face in your hair, your heart would be fluttering were it not currently banging in your chest wondering where the hell was the oxygen it ordered. You tried, you really did, to struggle against his hold. Hoping he'd wake up from whatever spell he was under and bring you back to solid ground. Hell, you'd make an attempt to swim for it, knowing how futile it would be. But once his long tongue was on your throat you became putty in his arms. You feel three distinct fingers rake against the other side of your neck as he nipped at you. You can't tell if your breath hitched or your lungs made another vain attempt to reach for air. You raised a trembling hand, trying to alert him to your situation but he seemed solely focused on tasting your skin.
     "Breathe." He spoke in-between licks, his tongue venturing down to your clavicle, and you wondered if he'd actually gone mad. His hooded eyes met yours and he repeated the word.
     It didn't matter anymore, the choice was no longer yours. You had held onto that final breath for dear life but it was time for that life to come to an end. A stream of bubbles left your horrified lips as you now fought not to breath in; that was a far shorter battle. You inhaled, preparing for the sting of water invading your airways in it's rush to your desperate lungs. For your body to heave and cough as the waters reminded you you were not it's friend but a guest who had overstayed their welcome. Would your body float up to be picked at by birds or sink to be fodder for the sea floor scavengers? You waited and waited. But... It never came. You, somehow, were breathing air. Opening your eyes in confusion, you looked around to see if you were suddenly back on land, if all this was some dream or hallucination spurred on by your guilt and heartbreak but no. You were still surrounded by the open seas and all it's inhabitants. Your breaths felt slightly strained but you weren't going to complain about life saving miracles. Especially when a giant tentacled man was tracing his finger down your spine. Now that your life was no longer at risk(mostly) you calmly rest your palm against his head, trying again to get answers out of him. He stilled, dissolving into your touch as he had many times before. You saw a bit of clarity in his eyes before he closed them.
     "I'm sorry." He said after a moment, his voice was lustful and strained, like a warning sign dipped in want and desire. "It started; my heat. I tried to stay as far away as I could but when all sense had escaped my mind the only thing left were thoughts of you." He pulled you closer, his eyes remained closed as if one look at you would break the little control he had. "I thought I had overcome it when I began searching for... Methods for you to survive beneath the waters. But the moment I had my answers it overtook me. It possessed me. It still does. I want you...desperately but only if you'll have me."
     You listened to his words, in confusion then understanding. Then you actually understood! Oh! Suddenly your body had forgotten all it's woes, focusing on your core instead. He wanted you. You bit your lip in thought, noticing that the water couldn't pass some unseen threshold of your mouth. You wanted him, you couldn't even pretend to deny that but... Was there a 'but'? You searched your tainted mind for excuses but your brain and your body were again in unison, the only outlier was you. You slid your hand up his face and caressed a cranial tendril, he opened his eyes and you felt his body vibrate. Purring.
     You didn't have the courage to look him in the eye when you spoke. "I will." You consented.
     He was on you instantly. His lips crashed into yours with reckless need. There was no slow build up, no questioning nor tentative tongue touches. His tongue snaked pass your lips and devoured you in kind. His large hands ran down either sides of your body, meeting when they both grabbed at your ass. There they lingered, kneading your flesh through the stretchy materiel, before one devious hand ventured even lower. You felt him slide a finger along the fabric covering your sex. Back and forth, his finger glided creating a nice little friction that almost touched your eager clit. Your hips moved on their own, seeking the contact. You craved more of his touch and suddenly the thin, synthetic rubber was a dense barrier. As if hearing your thoughts, there was the slightest pinch against the crook of your behind before a sudden coldness seeped in. You could feel him carefully swipe his claw to just above your clit, creating a opening in the fabric. The new sensation of cold wetness against you warm sex made you gasp but it was soon replaced by the warmth of his... hand? No, the texture was far different. Before you had a chance to investigate, the feeling of suction against your clit gave you all the answers you needed. Something between a gasp and a moan left your lips, the sound must've pleased him greatly because he tore himself away from your mouth to look into your eyes. The limb covered your whole sex, with the tip lightly teasing your entrance but it was that one suction cup upon your clit that was really putting in the work. It took a rhythm that was brain meltingly pleasant against the sensitive bud, thoroughly teased by his phantom touches prior. A sudden surge of pleasure began to build causing you to reflexively try to squeeze your thighs together. However, the  action was impeded by two tentacles quickly wrapping around your legs to keep them parted. They squeezed as if to reaffirm their hold on you. He took your chin in his hand and watched you intensely as you came undone from the stimulation. His grip was light but unyielding when you tried to turn away. Closing your eyes would lead to him stopping completely until they fluttered open again to meet his. He would take in every dip in your throat, every curve in your lips, every crease beneath your eyes and flush upon your cheeks. He wouldn't miss a moment of your first orgasm at his hands. His gaze was dizzying, as if whatever possessed him was now reaching out for you.  Having him inspect you with such cold fondness only made the experience that more salacious. The rising tide of pleasure finally crashed and you were left a buzzing, panting mess. With a look of gratification he released your chin, wrapping his arms around you once more to knit your body to his.
     "You're so beautiful." He cooed before trailing off into words of his own language.
     You didn't get a moment to say anything back before you felt something probe against your opening. One of his tentacles slid inside you fully, welcomed and aided by the slick lube of your still pulsing walls. You shuddered in his arms, thankful for the support. It was a comfortable fit and suddenly you're reminded that it's been ages since anyone has had you like this. It made the experience slightly more alien atop the fact that you were being intimate with a lust driven sea-beast. Rather than the expected thrusting, the appendage grazed along your insides. It twisted and pushed as if getting a feel for you, learning you before pulling back out. The sudden emptiness made you whimper, you looked at him, ready to beg if need be but it didn't come to that. You felt your entrance being prodded again. It was the familiar tip of a tentacle, ready to enter you once more. However, the more it pushed, the wider it got; so very much wider. And Gods, it held a bumpy texture that was absent before. Just as your mind went hazy you realised it was two of them, wrapped around each other. It finally gave you the thrusting motion you desired, it's ribbed texture grazing parts of you that remained untouched for too long. Your movements were limited but you attempted to grind against each wonderful thrust, moaning your delight with feather light whispers. This was all too good, soft and pliable enough that it writhed inside you but firm enough to press against your hungry womb.
Despite all senses seemingly being focused on your trembling hole you felt something press against your stomach, forcing it's way into the tiny space between your body and his. You peek downward to see the spearheaded tip of what you assumed was his cock. Suddenly, his preparation of your cunt made sense, you'd expected him to be big but geez. It was identical in color to his body, darkening at the tip in a similar fashion to his fingers. It throbbed and twitched as he began to grind against you. Even with two tentacles stretching your insides, your greedy eyes craved the feel of it. Craved the connection to him. You reached down and grasped it at the base, shock almost pulling you out of your haze when it wrapped around your hand. It tightened as if begging for more of your touch. You acquiesced and began running you hands up and down his massive length, taking great pleasure in the way his body vibrated with resonating groans. His thrusts inside you growing wilder, taking you further and further and you were determined to take him with you. His voice held a softer, pleading tone as it goaded you on, praising you between strained hisses. His cock swelled and hardened, his words devolving into senseless mumbles. The limbs inside you became more erratic as his pleasure grew. His grip on your body tightening to the point of leaving small tears in your suit and nicks in your skin. He released a long animalistic huff as he coated your arm in slimy white fluid, your body responded by coating his tentacles with your own. You rest your head against his chest, moving in time with his heavy breaths, counting them as you both recovered. You're not sure when he began moving you but suddenly you were face to face. He kissed you. Slowly. Gently. Tasting and savoring you.
     "Do you think you could take me, my treasure, or do I need to stretch that greedy hole of yours even more?" He asked between kisses.
     Words were beyond your tired brain so you just nodded. As spent as your body was, this moment would not feel complete until he was inside you. Slowly, as if moving you too much too quickly could break you, he turned you around so that your back was pressed against his chest. He snaked his hands around you -he really did seem to love having his arms on you-, one hand moving to grope your breast while the other traced a line down your stomach to caress your mound. You feel his lower half angle itself to bring his leaking member to your slick opening. Oh so slowly you feel him slide into you, spreading you wider with each inch. You couldn't help but try to squirm against him but his hands held you steady. He was only half way in when your body began to show resistance. He started pulling out slowly and thrusting into you, getting a little bit further each time.
     "You're being so good for me." He whispered just above your ear, his voice held a lovely cadence. Singsong; as if haunted by a melody that compelled his body to move.
     You couldn't hear it but you felt it, it rang through your body with each sway of your hips and out your lips with each whine. Down to the way he held you, like an instrument to be adored. Every moan a crescendo and every voice stopping bite at your neck a diminuendo. He was playing you and you were loving every moment of it. In and out, in and out like he was timing bars on sheet music. That was up until the flat, tapered tip hit the deepest part of you; he'd hilted. Then everything stopped. Fermata. You're only warning for what was to come were the tentacles that slithered around your legs to ground you. You hardly even felt him pull out, just the force as he thrust fully into you. The sound that left your mouth was a guttural whine of shock and pain. He kept going.  Slamming. Pounding. Taking your body over and over. It hurt and yet you desired more. He fucked you like he was craving this moment his whole life. Your body eased and the pain slowly dissolved into pleasure, never quite leaving but become something more. Something better. Something wholy obscene. Your body was an inferno in the cold, dark water. Pleasure overtook you; you no longer felt like a person, just a mass of emotions and senses. You could hear his grunts and growls behind you, the sounds he made were truly animalistic. Wild. Primal. Savage. As though he couldn't fathom being anything but a creature of vulgarity. Couldn't fathom doing anything but driving himself into you. Desired nothing more in the world than to fill the emptiest parts of you. Your walls tightened around him, as if intending to learn every bulge and vein of his cock. Pulling and sucking him in with no desire to let him go, that was where all your strength went. You felt the recognizable build of another orgasm and judging by way his pliable member was now a hardened monolith, he wasn't far off.  He no longer needed to lead, you danced with him as you both came together. His seed seeped out of him, filling every bit of (nonexistent)space inside of you before oozing out. He continued to thrust, making sure you milked his cock for everything he had. It's throbbing was like a heartbeat inside you.
     You collapsed against him, laying your head flat against his chest, your cheek barely touching the flesh above his heart. After a moment you looked up to see him already staring down at you, the affection in his eyes fueled your already thrumming heart. A moment of tenderness as the tainted waters surrounding you both whisked your indecencies away.  His sclera lightened to their usual soft grey. An eagerness popped up on his face as he seemingly wanted to ask you something then but thought better of it. A somber look taking over his features instead. Using what little strength remained in your body, you turned fully to him. He immediately took your head in both his hands and rest his forehead against yours.
     "I- Did i hurt you?"
     "Did-" You gave him a droll look. "Did you hurt me??" You flicked his head. Well, you tried but there was less than no force behind your fingers. "Of course you did. Lucky for you I enjoyed it."
     "I'm so sorry, I'll be gentler next time." He sounded genuinely apologetic. "If you would allow for a 'next time'."
     "There better be."
     "And a time after that?"
     "Don't push your luck, ocean boy."
     You felt him smile against you. It may have been an innocent one but you couldn't help but wonder if he was already plotting.
     He took you above land after that and you thanked the Gods above that your towel and pack was still waiting for you. At least you could walk(limp) to the company building without catching a charge for indecent exposure. He watched you from his usual spot on the dock. His downturned eyes hooded by his lashes had him looking like a distraught child watching their best friend board a plane to unknown lands. Did he think he scared you away? That you'd never return? Maybe as a bit of revenge you'd let him believe it.
((You also had to deal with the urge to sink into the floor at the knowing and amused looks on your merfolk coworker's face every time they saw the marks on your neck D:))
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onyourowndaisymae · 1 year
Text
presenting the obey me brothers with friendship bracelets
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you know that feeling when you have a million other things to write but then one idea cuts to the front of the line and demands to be expelled from your brain? yeah that. that's what this is. i'm making bracelets for the eras tour and this idea came to me
[the dateables version]
[the dateables (+ luke) presenting you with a friendship bracelet]
content warnings: none
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prompt: you grin down at your work. in your hands is a small friendship bracelet, lovingly crafted from hard work and the embroidery thread you found in your closet. you weren't quite sure why you'd made it, but the thought of giving a certain someone the bracelet and watching their reaction made you smile. now, to hand it off...
Lucifer
lucifer definitely acts like it's a very childish thing that you've just presented to him. he raises an eyebrow and gives you an amused smirk.
he takes it from you and shoos you out of his office, warning you about all the paperwork he has to keep him busy. you never tied it for him, so you figure he's probably going to toss it in a desk drawer or something for safe keeping. that's okay. you're just happy he accepted the gift in the first place.
the real reason why you got kicked out is so he no longer had to hide the hopelessly fond, adoring look from you in response to your gift. it's simple and childish, yes, but it warms his heart that you made it for him. it's black, white, and red, made in a little stripe pattern. cute.
this little piece of braided string will sit on his desk for the rest of the night, where he can peek over at it when he gets overwhelmed.
you sort of assume the bracelet's been lost to the depths of lucifer's desk or sitting at the bottom of the trashcan. weeks pass before you think of it again.
but you do. you're reminded of your little gift to the morning star when lucifer is reaching out to something mid-conversation at RAD-- an unfamiliar flash of white peeks out from under his dark uniform sleeves. is that... is that the friendship bracelet you made him?
if you try to confront him about it, he will deny everything with that same stoic, slightly irritated look. he won't show you his wrist to prove he's not wearing it, though. softie.
Mammon
this man acts like you're soooo lucky that he's accepting a gift from you. he'll go on and on about how the great mammon usually prefers shiny jewelry, but it you insist--
if you try to take it back and walk off, he's yelling and chasing you down. you can't just take gifts back. that's cheating. hand it over! that white and gold bracelet belongs to him now, and the great mammon isn't going to let someone steal from him that easy.
his cheeks are red as you tie it on his wrist. for all that big talk about how he's doing you a favor by wearing a friendship bracelet for you, he's awfully quiet as he admires it on his wrist.
mammon wears the bracelet everyday. he will sometimes remember to take it off before showers and other stuff that might ruin it, but he also forgets a lot of the time. the bracelet ends up a bit dirty, but not horrible. well-loved, you might say.
if any demon at RAD tries getting a little too friendly with you, he won't hesitate to interrupt your conversation and not-so-subtly remind the other demon that he's the one with the friendship bracelet, not them. he'll pull down his sleeve and shove the bracelet in the demon's face until they get the message and walk away.
mammon will get very offended by you giving out other bracelets, by the way. he's a very jealous demon. you gave him the bracelet because you like him most, right? so why'd you start passing them out like halloween candy, huh? nah, that won't do. the great mammon demands another one to add to his collection. scratch that, make it two more. can't have anyone else think they can compare to your first man.
Leviathan
leviathan initially tries to talk you out of giving him the bracelet. surely you didn't mean to give it to someone like him, right? no, this must be a mistake. you must be thinking of asmo, or mammon, or beel or--
when you point out that you specifically made it for him, he shuts up. you explain the purple and teal colors are meant to match his hair and nails! that way it will always match his outfits, no matter what he wears.
suddenly he's a flurry of movement, wrapping his arms around you and thanking you so so much for being friends with a yucky, gross otaku shut in like him. you're the best henry he could have ever asked for. he's so caught up in the emotions of the moment that he forgets to panic when you first hug him back. a couple of seconds in, his brain reboots, and suddenly he's scuttling out of your personal bubble.
levi's near tears as you tie it on his wrist. don't worry, mc, he'll treasure it forever! this bracelet will remain on his wrist until time stops and hell freezes over. that's how much you mean to him!
you didn't think he actually meant it when he said he'd never take it off. that's why it's adjustable, y'know? but you were wrong. levi wears the bracelet everywhere. home. school. while sleeping. in the shower. while he's cosplaying. wherever he goes, you're certain that bracelet will be with him.
... but it's made of string, and very quickly gets nasty. he doesn't seem to notice, but you definitely do. you ultimately make him a replacement so that you won't have to keep looking at the damp, dingy thing on his wrist. he's just as touched as he was the first time. levi won't throw the original away, though. you compromise and let him keep it on one of his display shelves (even it it's still a bit gross).
Satan
when you present him with the green and teal friendship bracelet, he laughs. that's actually really sweet, mc. he's read stuff like this happening in those books with childhood friends growing up together, where the bracelet symbolizes an unbreakable bond carried into adulthood. it's cute. he's glad you thought of him.
as you tie the bracelet to his wrist and teach him how to take it on and off, he'll inquire about why you made it. have you ever given anyone else a friendship bracelet, or is he your first? how did you make it, anyways? would you be willing to show him?
the afternoon is lost to laughter and tales from both of your childhoods. satan's was a long, long time ago, but he's got six older brothers (by birth order, not fall order) that have told him stories of his youth through the years. would you be surprised to learn that he was a little hellion? no? well, he has no idea why you'd ever get the idea that he's anything but kind and calm and not at all the avatar of wrath. shame on you, mc. (his teasing would be a little bit more convincing if he didn't have that smile on his face-- the one he always has when he's with you.)
satan treats your friendship bracelet with care. he makes sure to take it off any time he does an activity that might get it dirty or otherwise soil it. he'll take it off for showers and slip it right back on afterwards, or keep it on his nightstand so he can put it back on when he returns from a formal event. satan also doesn't sleep with it on because he worries his tossing and turning might wear it down. sometimes he'll even use it as a bookmark when he's not wearing it.
he is very protective of this bundle of knots and strings. mammon once snatched a book from his room-- the book he just so happened to be reading, where he was using the bracelet as a bookmark before he went to bed-- and took the bracelet with it. you were able to step in just in time before satan lost his cool and went on a rampage. everyone knew from then on to leave that damn bracelet alone.
Asmodeus
asmodeus is delighted that you'd make something for him! the pink and red threads blends together so nicely, and is that a little spiral pattern on the outside? ooohh, you're just too cute! thank you, mc!
he will, in front of you, begin planning outfits around the bracelet. no long sleeves-- that'll hide the bracelet, and we don't want that! asmo wants everyone to be able to see it at all times. he can imagine the jealousy on his brother's faces as he shows off the exclusive gift he got from his beloved mc!
don't make anyone else a bracelet now too, alright dear? this sort of affection is all his. it's not as special if you make one for the rest of his lame brothers, now is it? if you want to make more, make them for him! he'll take as many as you'd be willing to make, darling.
if you do dare to make him another one, watch out. you've just opened pandora's box. now he's making requests-- will you do this color combo, mc? what about these? can you do that little stripe pattern on this one, and keep this one simple? the possibilities are endless, and (un)luckily for you, so is his imagination.
if you tell him that he can make his own bracelets, he'll pout. those wouldn't be friendship bracelets then, would they? they're only special because you make them, dearest. he'll pout until you relent, then shower you in as much affection as you'll accept to reward your never-ending kindness.
he's as disciplined with his bracelet routine as he is with every other part of his appearance. he takes it off for bathing and sleeping, so it won't get messed up without him noticing. if he has to go to a photoshoot or a formal event, he'll keep it tucked safely in his bag, so it's close to him at all times (and so none of his brothers get any ideas if they see it unattended).
Beelzebub
beel will probably be confused when you first present him with the gift. he's already holding out his wrist for you to tie it on, though. just because he doesn't understand doesn't mean he'd ever reject a gift from you.
when you explain what it is and its significance, he's all smiles. he's very happy that you want everyone to know the two of you are friends. he'll treasure it, mc. and he does-- he's very careful with it, careful to take it off when he thinks it might get dirty. he sets it gently on the nightstand or in his bag so it doesn't get tangled or lost.
then one day, tragedy strikes.
beel takes his bracelet off one day for fangol practice for safekeeping. he swore he slipped it into his bag, and yet when he gets home to unpack, it's nowhere to be seen. he's crushed. beel comes to break the news to you right away, with the sorrowful expression of someone that had just lost a loved one. he didn't mean to lose it. he hopes you'll forgive him, mc.
you comfort him and explain that you're not mad, not at all! accidents happen. you urge him to go shower and decompress after such a rough practice-- you'll handle the friendship bracelet situation. he (somewhat hesitantly) agrees and leaves your room with a solemn nod. you get to work crafting a new one with the same colors and technique. by the time he's out of the shower, you're coming to his room, replacement in hand.
beel is over the moon. he's quietly thanking you as you tie it on, promising that he'll be more careful with this one. his cheeks go pink with delight when you tell him you'll make him as many as he likes.
Belphegor
you proudly present belphegor with the physical embodiment of your friendship-- a purple and navy braided bracelet-- and he immediately begins clowning on you. really, mc? a friendship bracelet? what are you, seven? the thought of you toiling away over some colorful strings alone in your room makes him chuckle aloud.
fine then, jackass. maybe someone else would appreciate it more?
suddenly he's sitting up in bed. now, who told you that you could give away his present like that, hmm? does your friendship mean nothing? that's right, mc, get back here. that lame ass little bracelet is his.
for someone that made fun of you for making such a juvenile little gift, belphie doesn't seem very keen on taking it off anytime soon. the bracelet becomes frayed and ratty, dulled by time and messed up against blankets or bedsheets. tease him about it down the line and he'll scoff. first, he'll try to make fun of you for noticing such a thing. when that doesn't work, he'll complain that you tied the ends into a knot and now he can't get it off.
actually, ellen belphie, that's not true. you definitely showed him how to take it off the first time you put it on. you reach over and begin to tug at the ends when he yanks it away with a suspicious look. who said you could touch it, you little thief? get your own. it seems someone has grown quite fond of the bracelet in the past few weeks.
"what are you, seven?" you mock with a shit-eating grin. belphie ignores you and rolls back over. you don't neglect to notice the way he tucks his wrist-- the one with the bracelet-- close, hidden under a pillow or two. just try to take it now. just because he won't admit how much he likes it doesn't mean he won't fight tooth and nail to keep the little affectionate trinket on his person at all times.
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mncxbe · 29 days
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I NEED prompt 7 with Chuuya, tbh I think it suits him reeeaaalllyyyy well (btw love ur work 🫶🏻)
you're right nonnie it totally fits him hihi
7 — They first start developing dirty thoughts about you
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"Is everything alright, Mr. Nakahara?"
Your gentle voice pulled him out of his mind– oh that little dirty mind of his that, for a while, has been plagued by lewd thoughts of you.
It started a few weeks after you were hired as his assistant. Mori insisted that having someone around the office to help with paperwork would be useful, so he ended up with you. At first, things when pretty normal– you'd go about with your duties, helping him with reports and organising his schedule, but after a while you started being... sweeter? You brought him lunch, kept his office clean, even bought him a little gift for his birthday.
Now Chuuya was no stranger to such affections, but your actions made him feel appreciated, made him feel like he mattered. Soon enough, the initial fondness he felt for you turned into something perverted.
His eyes would linger a little too long on your curves when you walked away from his desk, his pants tenting at the thought of you bent over his desk or seated on his lap with your skirt hiked up to your waist. It was embarrassing, really, the way he could barely contain his thoughts when he as much as smelt your sugary perfume in his office or when your hand brushed against his.
Even now as you looked at him from across the desk with your big doe eyes he could imagine how beautiful you'd look sprawled on his bed in a silky dress he bought for you, or even better, naked, pressing your tits together and spreading your legs begging him to–
"Mr. Nakahara?" you asked again in a voice laced with worry "Did something happen?"
"No, miss, my apologies. I was just thinking about something."
He claimed oh so nonchalantly as if he weren't fantasizing about you.
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𐙚prompts closed
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zepskies · 4 months
Note
Hey could I request angsty and fluffy headcanons for Dean having a crush on reader but he thinks she has a crush on Sam but she actually has a crush on Dean back
Hey lovely!
So I kiiiind of already did this type of prompt with "Dean gives you an impossible choice" and its sequel, "Choosing Him."
But I'll do another imagine in this vein for you! ❤️
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 1,000 Tags/Warnings: Fluff, angst(ish), fear of unrequited love, mutual pining
Imagine: Dean reads you wrong.
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When Dean falls for someone, it's "slow and steady wins the race."
But the spark. That spark is instant.
He feels it with you.
Your pretty smile. Your "get it done" attitude that mirrors his. The way you know all of his references, whether it's movies or TV or music — you grew up learning how to tell time from what was on TV, just like him.
It's the way you laugh with him, share quiet moments of contemplation with him, and even moments of grief with him. Even when it's his grief, you always come. Whether it's to sit beside him, or share a drink with him, or make him something you know he likes, or get him to take a drive with you.
But realistically, you have more in common with Sam.
Both of you are bookish (nerds). You two get into heated discussions about Dante's Inferno and proper Latin translations. (You always accuse Sam of his pronunciations being off, while Sam argues, "At least I remember the whole exorcism. You think the damn demon cares if my vowels are off?")
You and Sam bicker. You playfully tease him, bring smiles to his face just as often as you bring them to Dean's. You're comfortable with him, playfully jabbing his arm or his chest when you mess with him.
Sam takes it with a smile, or a slight roll of his eyes, but always with fondness.
Dean can't help the churning in his stomach. Every time he thinks he has a read on you. Every time he thinks it's safe to maybe, one day, after a hunt, after an episode of Dr. Sexy, after you get out of the shower, after he's made you a home-cooked meal, after you sit with him and talk about everything and nothing while he works on his car — he thinks he might have a shot if he asked you out.
But he always falters, because he just can't fucking tell. He thinks you and Sam have something.
And Dean...he likes you. A lot.
More than he's ever willingly expressed.
But despite his reputation with women, he's never, and will never, step on his brother's toes.
Until he can't help himself.
It's your birthday. Sam got you a series of books he recommended to you last month. (Again, fucking nerds.) Dean got the booze and made the food to celebrate.
But you're surprised, and even a little teary when he brings out the cake he bought at an honest-to-God bakery. He even stood in line, waited 30 minutes to have them write your name on it, with little balloons. The frosting letters are drawn in your favorite color.
"Happy Birthday, sweetheart," Dean tells you. His tone is a little too soft. It's because he sees your unshed tears, and his heart clenches.
It's just a fucking cake.
Does it really matter that much to you?
But he still feels a well of warmth and pride in his chest. He turns to his brother with a smirk. "I win."
It's meant to be playful, but he kind of means it. Sam just eyes him knowingly.
"Sure," Sam laughs.
What the hell does that mean? Dean nearly frowns. But he's soon distracted — by you leaning in close to kiss him on the cheek.
He turns just in time (with slightly wider eyes) to see you blush.
That smile tells him something.
"Thanks, guys," you say to both of them. But your hand lingers on Dean's wrist, squeezing a bit.
At the end of the night, Sam turns in early. You stick around to help Dean clean up.
"Aw, stop. You're the birthday girl. I got this," Dean says, waving you off. You join him at the kitchen counter and lay a hand on his arm.
"Dean," you say softly. It earns his attention. You look a little nervous, your eyes falling from his, then meeting them again.
"What's the matter?" he asks. His brows furrow. He's thinking of your lips on his cheek. Unconsciously he glances down at your pretty mouth.
"Was wondering if you could help me with a birthday wish," you said.
A smile begins to tug at your lips, and Dean can't help but smile back. Intrigue, and a small tremor of something triggers up his spine.
"Oh yeah? What's that?" he asks.
You bite your lip. "Okay...I'm going to ask you this once. Yes or no. And if it's no...then we won't talk about it ever again and you'll have to wipe it out of your memory, because I don't want to make things weird or make you uncomfortable and I don't want to have to do something drastic, like leave the Bunker—"
Dean's smile falls as his brows raise in slight alarm. He also raises placating hands to stop your verbal flapping.
"Whoa, hey. What? What the hell kinda birthday question is this?"
You close your eyes and take a breath. "Okay."
Your eyes open, and as what happens far too often, Dean's captured by them.
"Close your eyes for me," you request.
"My eyes need to be closed to answer a damn question?"
"Damn it, Dean. Just do it, please!"
He lets out a slightly peeved breath, but he obliges you, shutting his lids. He really doesn't know what the hell is going on...until you lay a bracing hand on his chest and press a soft kiss to his lips.
For a moment, he freezes.
He inhales deeply through his nose as the surprise fades.
Relief floods in its wake.
A smile reaches his face.
But soon enough, before you can pull away, he grasps your upper arms to hold you in place. He dips his head down to kiss you in earnest. His lips find yours, gentle at first, and then gaining in passion.
He learns quickly the pattern of your lips, and the heady feeling of that knowing travels straight to his brain, stronger than the whiskey he drank earlier.
It's like you two were made to move together. To end up just like this.
You both are breathless by the time your eyes slide open and meet one another.
Dean's lips curve into a smirk. "How's that answer for ya?"
Your smile is beaming bright.
"Yeah, that works."
Chuckling, he pulls you in closer and tugs a strand of hair behind your ear, his thumb brushing your blush-warmed cheek.
And he answers you again.
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AN: Ugh, I'm sappy as hell. 😂 Hope you liked this! Let me know what you think. 😉
Read Sam’s version: “Sam reads you wrong.”
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Dean Winchester Imagines
Dean Winchester Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Ko-Fi Me ☕
Dean W. Tag List:
@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91
@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sanscas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19
@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420
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evielmostdefinitely · 4 months
Note
pls i NEED a fic of corio and readers first time together im on my knees 🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️
first fall of snow |young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|
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prompt: capitol!reader and coriolanus' first time.
contains: smut, nothing graphic bc i wanted it to be fluffy. dark-ish coriolanus. consensual. 18+.
“And as for the Academy,” You fell into step with Coriolanus, his arm out for you to politely clutch, the fallen snow crunching beneath your heels. “What do you wish to do after?” 
Coriolanus tilted his head back, brows creasing in thought. “I’d like to continue my work with Dr. Gaul.” He hummed, a firm grip on your arm that had you swooning. “Longterm, I’d like to be President.” 
“Ooh,” You grinned, eyes sparkling under the lights of the city. Coriolanus swallowed down the heat he felt rising in his throat. “President Snow, that certainly has a nice ring to it.” 
“I’m glad you think so.” Coryo smiled softly. 
“I think that’s wonderful, Coriolanus.” You matched his smile, a dreamy look in your eye that Coryo was growing very fond of each time he saw it. “Very ambitious. I like that in a man.” 
“Do you?” Coriolanus laughed, head tilting down towards you. The proper dating had gone to flirtatious banter quickly. It felt perfect, far too perfect, beyond what his own planning and careful meddling could even design. 
“I love it.” You grinned, pausing for a beat as he opened the door to your building, holding the door for you to slip in before his hand found the small of your back. It was polite, really, so innocent and respectable, the placement of his hand. Still, it made your heart flutter, burst with excitement. 
Your own finger reached for the button of the elevator, turning to meet Coriolanus’ dazzling eyes. “I love a man who knows what he wants.” 
His throat bobbed, you grinned at the flustered blush creeping out from under his collar. He was the vision of perfection, prim and proper, so put together- you wanted to ravish him. Mess that perfect hair up, tug at it and feel it between your fingers. 
The ding of your elevator trilled, pulling Coriolanus’ attention away from you. “Well, then,” Your heart skipped at his words. “I’m glad I can impress you, Miss Duke.” His hand reached for your cheek, pulling you in for a rather sloppy smooch. Still respectful, cautious of the potential onlookers. 
You were swooning when he pulled away, head spinning with excitement, his hand still pressed to your warm cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” 
Your heart sunk at his words, spiraling down further and further. You blinked at him, face falling. 
“Yes?” Coriolanus’ brows creased, head tilting softly to the side. “Tomorrow? Or do you have plans, darling?” 
You swallowed, shaking your head. “N-No, I will see you tomorrow.” You forced a smile, stepping towards the elevator. Of course he would act this way, it was the proper thing to do. You were a fool for thinking otherwise. 
“Coriolanus,” You called, heel stopping the elevator tracks from closing. Those icy blues met your gaze, melting you from the inside out. Your body covered in a blush, maybe from adrenaline, maybe from him. 
“Would-Would you,” You swallowed your racing heart, hands fidgeting with your small bag. “Won’t you come up.” You motioned to the elevator. “Have a cup of tea. Stay for a while.” 
Coriolanus grinned, a toothy smile that made your heart leap. “If you insist.” He muttered, stepping in behind you, his hand finding its place back on your spine when you pressed the button, trying to dull your fidgety excitement that raced through your veins. 
The penthouse was everything Coriolanus thought it would be, and more. Extravagant, efficient, top of the line in every way. So modern yet so… comforting. Something so familiar, and it smelled of you. 
The roses still in a vase from last night's date. Coriolanus always brought you a bouquet on your Thursday evening dinners, a part of him to take with you and remember him throughout the week. 
He settled into a cushioned arm chair while you fixed the tea, chatting lightly, pretending not to watch him take in your small space. “How long have you lived here?” Coriolanus asked. 
“Not long.” You shrugged, looking at him over your shoulder. “Less than a year. My father gave it to me when I started my job after the Academy, so I could have a place of my very own. Some independence.” 
“Independence.” Coriolanus nodded. “That must be nice. To have… To have this place of your own, I mean.” His fists clenched, clammy and hesitant. “I still live with my family.” 
“That must be nice.” You repeated, pulling the small tea cups out of the cupboard. “I miss my family. Miss my mother. It gets lonely up here all alone.” You turned, leaning against the counter, lashes batting towards him. 
Coriolanus was sure his heart had stopped beating, the sultry pout you gave him, like you were trying to fluster him. He wasn’t entirely convinced that you weren’t. 
“Does it?” Coriolanus swallowed around the growing lump in his throat, hands moving as nonchalantly as he could to lay them in his lap. 
You nodded, slow steps, smooth and calculated across the marble, over the fur rug. “Very lonely. Especially at night.” You sighed, lolling your head to the side. “No one here to keep me company.” 
Coriolanus tried to keep his composure, remain calm and cool, though his heart hammered in his ears with a thrill. “Well, I’m here now.” He said confidently, chin tilting to look up at you. “I’ll keep you company tonight. If you’ll have me.” 
Your lips curled, a triumphant grin spreading across your features, eyes lighting with delight. Coriolanus was relieved, he’d answered correctly. You moved towards him, his hands finding your waist easily, nearly instinctively as you sunk into his lap straddling his wide thighs. Your fingers thread through the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him into a sloppy kiss. 
Coryo’s hands found your hips, your ass, squeezing and rubbing over the flesh he’d been longing to touch for so long. Oh, how you’d tormented him. Your body consuming his thoughts at all hours of the night, his hand snaking under his pajama pants as he thought of you, fantasized about what you might look like under those pretty dresses- what you might taste like. He was about to find out. 
When you dropped to your knees, a sly smile far too salacious than he was expecting, pumping his shaft in your soft hands. Coriolanus’ head tipped back, sweat beading at his hairline when you took him in your mouth, a little unsure, gagging at the intrusion of him- he was sure he’d be succumbing to you far too easily. 
“Coriolanus, oh!” You mewled, back arching off the edge of the bed. You’d gotten your wish, hands tangled through his blonde curls, tugging them out of place and pulling him closer and closer to you. 
Coryo’s tongue lapping at your cunt, swirling over your clit. You’d tasted even better than he could have imagined. He was surprised at how easily your mind numbed when he’d lick you between your legs. How pliant and sweet, totally dependent and reliant on him, eyes rounding at him for guidance and instruction- he’d remember that for the future. 
He finally pushed into you, slowly, his hands under your knees, kissing your shin when you whined at the stretch, the pain of fitting him inside of you. He was gentle, the most gentle and delicate he’d ever be with you again. Cautious like you were a flower, one that could snap and break if he handled you the wrong way. 
Soft grunts muffled into your skin, your hands cradling him closer to you, chest to chest, nose to nose, bodies moving in stuttered rhythm together for the first time.
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matrixbearer2024 · 2 months
Note
Hey I have an idea for "Get Off My Screen" what if Y/N starts talking to Vox less and less and he is so confused so he goes through her phone to try and figure it out and sees her Instagram announcing a new bf and Vox is soooo jealous but she basically ignores his protests and so life goes on as normal for them both until one day he gets nosy and checks her texts on her phone with her bf and finds nudes from her and then he gets annoyed and lectures her about it which leads to her getting angry and ignoring him but then a few weeks later he checks Y/N and the bf's chats again and sees him threatening her
On a completely unrelated note I luv this series and also definitely need a Vox of my own in my phone cause I can't write or spell for shit lol
You Could Do Better(With Me)
Protective!Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader
WARNINGS: Mentions of Alcohol, Nudes, Blackmail, Manipulation
A/N: Okay this was actually pretty angsty, more on Vox's side because he's just dealing with a lot of emotional whiplash- most of which he doesn't really deal with well but he powers through it to be there for you. At this point in time he's kind of certain he likes you, but not that he loves you. Kind of like the: "Oh I'm really fond of this person, I want to make sure they're safe and happy." Without realizing the romantic implications nor how deep the level of attachment really is. So far, Reader's only kind of had a puppy-love crush on Vox but has blatantly disregarded it because well- Vox is fucking dead so what the hell are you supposed to do?? That and Vox constantly gets on Reader's nerves with his shenanigans so even if she gets the Cupid valentines filter when he cranks up the charisma- his stupid hijinks quickly do away with it and make him seem idiotic(cutely) again. The story also has a lot of emotional stuff so if you'd rather stick to the comedy feel free to skip this interlude and the one directly after it.
A/N: Either way, that's currently the pace these two are at- and this is a songfic! If you want to listen to the tune while reading- here it is! "Need You Now" by Lady Antebellum. The story itself is slightly different from the prompt since I made it centered around how Vox perceived things were going. As always, I hope y'all have fun and enjoy! Happy Reading!
youtube
Vox wanted to pretend everything was okay.
Walking through the halls of the Vee tower, he really wanted to play it off like nothing was bothering him.
And still, he found himself checking his phone for any updates or messages from you.
Day by day you were starting to slowly disappear from his routine.
He didn't notice it at first, how you were pulling away-
It was just the little things initially.
One word replies, emoji spam-
Vox figured you just weren't in the mood to listen or talk.
Did he do something that hurt you?
Up until the point that you both didn't really have any meaningful conversations anymore.
Which, as much as he tried to start anything proper-
It would always fall flat.
Were you still even trying?
He woke up one morning and followed his routine, shooting you a greeting before he started the day.
It just so happened that once he was finally able to check his phone to shoot you a wish goodnight-
You hadn't even replied to his morning message.
He was busy throughout the day, so he wasn't given the opportunity to worry about you.
But now, worry he did.
Vox quickly made his way towards his monitor room despite how late it was.
He went through your files, your pictures-
Wait.
Wait a goddamn minute.
Who the fuck was that?
He glitched slightly when he saw how that guy grinned in the picture.
It reminded him of his own, just so fucking fake.
Not to mention the air the person had around them.
They just exuded a great sense of showmanship and arrogance.
One Vox was all too familiar with.
That wasn't even the first picture you had with that person recently.
And the more the overlord looked, the more worked up he got.
He wasn't sure if it was anger, envy, irritation, or just a mix of everything under the sun.
Holding your waist, hugging you close, in some pictures your faces were so close together that you were almost kissing.
He was glitching in his chair from the emotional overload.
Who did this guy think he was to be able to treat you like that?!
Vox definitely punched a few screens from fury and jealousy.
Come the next day when he confronted you about it-
More like became a clear pain in the ass that you really couldn't ignore-
Making your computer practically unusable even-
Was when you revealed to him that you didn't mean to hide something like this.
You just simply forgot to say anything.
Vox didn't know if that was worse than if you tried to deceive him.
"Geez, so you have a boyfriend now?"
"Oh come on, you act like I'm not allowed to date. I'm a responsible adult Vox, not a kid."
The tech overlord only stared at the screen.
Was that really all you saw him as?
A digital guardian?
Just... someone who treated you like a kid?
He scoffed, he could count more times where he was the childish one.
That was stupid.
Besides that, he had more pressing matters to deal with.
What was this... horrible sinking feeling that was running through his systems?
It was like a weight that made him struggle breathing.
"Vox?"
"I'm still here. Can't believe you would forget to tell me something as important as this."
His claws dug into his armrests, he should've been happy you found yourself a partner.
If that partner just didn't remind him so much of himself.
"I'm sorry okay? I was really busy the last few days."
"The last few days? How long have you even been talking to this guy dollface?"
"Months? Probably? I've known him for a while now, he was the school crush when I was back in high school."
Vox wanted to convince you that this guy was bad news.
A walking red flag if you will.
He... should know.
Vox was at least aware of himself that much.
Still, he swallowed it all back and just replied to you again.
"I don't mind the fact you're off the market, hell- congratulations even! Just don't get into any sketchy shit. You know, anything that could be used against you as blackmail."
"Yeah yeah, I know what I'm doing Vox. Seriously, don't worry about it!"
You simply brushed off his worry, typical.
That just made the suffocating feeling even worse.
He didn't even know where it came from, or why.
"Oh yeah! I've got a boyfriend now!"
Those words replayed in his head like a bullet to the skull.
The day hadn't even started.
And Vox already wished it was over.
This just continued for a while, your presence in his schedule became negligible and Vox was falling back into his old vices.
He became snappy, irritable, just downright intolerable to be around.
The employees were feeling it, the Vees were collateral-
Not even Valentino could placate Vox's current horrid state.
It's been a week.
Vox stopped bothering to message you in the morning.
But he didn't stop checking if you would message him even once or twice.
It was pathetic.
And another.
Vox broke more than a dozen phones from just throwing them around.
He drank himself to sleep every night.
Valentino and Velvette were getting tired of having to dump his wasted ass on his bed every time.
And another.
Vox holed himself up in his monitor room whenever he wasn't needed.
No one could get him to come out.
Not even for food or water.
If he needed anything he would get it himself.
It was a long day of broadcasts and meetings, another monotonous cycle in his fast-paced life.
Vox intended to just drink until he passed out again, but he somehow found himself drunkenly stumbling through the halls of the Vee Tower into his monitor room.
He honestly didn't even know what he was doing this time.
The overlord fought to keep his own head up as he collapsed in his chair.
He glanced over to the side your computer's screen was connected to and let out a shaky sigh.
God, he fucking missed you.
Against his better judgement, Vox connected himself to your devices again.
He went straight to your playlist and just pressed start.
Picture perfect memories, scattered all around the floor~
Vox spun around in his chair, letting the music ebb and flow into his brain.
He took another swig from the bottle of alcohol in his other hand, squinting at the screens.
Everything was just kind of fuzzy.
Reaching for the phone cause, I can't fight it anymore...
It took him by surprise when one of the screens showed your living room.
Had you connected him to your TV again?
"Vox...? Are you there?"
And I wonder if I've ever crossed your mind?
He was too out of it to properly say anything, Vox couldn't recall if the words that stumbled out of him were even coherent.
"Dude... you look like shit."
Listening to your voice gave him a slight moment of sobriety.
"Likewise dollface."
For me it happens all the time...
"Are you wasted??"
"Erm, not really. Just buzzed."
He was able to take a good look at you then, your eyes were red and puffy like you'd just been crying.
It's a quarter after one, I'm all alone and I need you now...
"What the hell happened to you?"
"Uh... well... you know that guy I was dating?"
Vox took a swig of alcohol before he replied, there was no way he was making it through his conversation unless he was drunk out of his circuits.
"My personality copycat? Yeah, what about?"
Said I wouldn't call, but I've lost all control-
"Your personality- what??"
"Dollface, do you seriously think I wouldn't notice how much of a walking red flag that asshole was?"
You paused as he took another swig of his drink, Vox didn't miss that look of guilt and pity in your eyes.
"But you just called him your copy."
"And? I know I'm a piece of shit. Takes one to know one."
And I need you now...
"Whatever, I don't think you'd stoop as low as he did."
"That's for me to judge, what did the bastard do?"
He saw the slight tremble in your posture, your voice cracked as if you were holding back sobs.
And I don't know how I can do without-
"I- I knew I should've listened to you. I sent him compromising pictures and he... he-"
"You sent him nudes and he used them to blackmail you didn't he?"
You flopped back down on the couch and his unfocused eyes met your watery ones.
So that's why you'd been crying.
I just need you now...
"It doesn't feel good to have your trust broken by someone you gave your heart to I'd reckon."
You scoffed at him, wiping away your tears as they continued to fall.
Vox so badly wanted to make it stop, but he didn't trust himself to be lucid enough to say the right words.
"Well wouldn't you know? I'd bet the women over there would throw themselves at your feet."
Another shot of whisky, can't stop looking at the door...
Vox couldn't tell if it was his imagination or not that made it seem like he heard jealousy in your voice.
There wasn't any reason for you to feel envious anyway.
He took another swig of alcohol before meeting your gaze once again.
Wishing you'd come sweeping, in the way you did before~
"So what if there are? I'm too busy to pursue a dedicated relationship. I mean- have you seen the amount of shit I have to deal with every day?"
You looked dejected by his answer, or at least that's what Vox thought.
Yeah, he was absolutely wasted.
And I wonder if I ever cross your mind?
"So what did you do? Did you break up with the guy?"
"Can't. If I do, he'll release all my pictures online."
Vox hummed, pulling up a window on your computer for you to interact with.
He was a paranoid man as is, but this just proved it didn't hurt to have precautions in place.
For me it happens all the time...
"What is that?"
"Something I made for all your files months ago."
"What does it do?"
Vox took another swig from his bottle.
It's a quarter after one, I'm a little drunk and I need you now...
"A safeguard, all files you send from your devices can be irreversibly corrupted remotely. An encryption thing, I tried to tell you about it but you didn't respond."
He wasn't surprised that you pressed the prompt to start the file corruption process on those pictures you'd sent.
Hell, everything you sent the rat bastard that broke your heart.
Honestly, the fucker didn't even deserve you.
Neither did Vox if he had to be honest with himself.
Said I wouldn't call, but I lost all control-
The overlord stayed silent as he drank once more from his bottle of booze.
It was nearly empty at this point, not that he cared.
He could only assume you were watching the progress bar load which was why you didn't say anything.
And I need you now...
Vox just watched as you eventually got up and used your phone to call someone.
A smug smile worked onto his face when he realized who you were talking to.
After all, you'd only curse like a sailor when you were genuinely mad.
And I don't know how I can do without-
"You're kind of hot when you get angry you know?"
"Pfft, is that why you like to piss me off then?"
"Maybe, though I usually do just to get a reaction out of you anyways."
I just need you now...
Vox saw you roll your eyes, a smile finally gracing your face and he couldn't help but return it.
"I just became single again and you're already hitting on me huh?"
"Whaaaaat? I would never."
Vox humored you well into the morning hours.
The both of you talking once again like old times.
Like nothing even happened.
Eventually it got to the point you had fallen asleep on the couch right in front of the TV during one of Vox's stories.
The overlord let a soft genuine smile appear on his face at the sight.
At least you were okay again.
He swirled the remaining alcohol in the bottle and threw his head back as he downed the rest of it.
Finally feeling the exhaustion catch up to him, both emotionally and physically-
Vox's screen dimmed as he succumbed to slumber right alongside you in his chair.
A/N: HOOOOLY SHIT THIS CHAPTER IS LONG- this was an absolute UNIT of a segment but it gets better in the next one I promise, besides- I don't want to doom Vox and Reader by the narrative, that would just be a sucky ending. We'll still have more emotionally vulnerable stuff in the next interlude so if that's not your cup of tea feel free to skip it too.
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word count: 8.9K
paring: Wolf!Bakugou x fReader
warning(s): cunnilingus, marking (biting and claws), loss of virginity, loss of innocence, some blood (very minor and only mentioned briefly), and dirty talking/slight degradation.
authors note: well, hello again! I'm currently in the middle of writing something new, but I figured it might be a good idea to repost some of my favourite works from my old blog here - especially this one (and another one soon) as I will be adding a sort of continuation to this story; so best to have both in one place - just to tide you over until new pieces are done. Besides I am quite fond of this one, spun three wheels to get prompts (dialog of “Can I just hold your hand?” the trope of Fake Dating, and the AU being Fantasy). I've always enjoyed how this turned out, though it is one of my first works so apologies if it doesn't have the same caliber, and I hope you all do too - I know Bakugou is quite the favourtie~ 🔮
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You weren’t from around here.
Bakugou could tell the moment you entered this seedy tavern, the way your boots clicked against the old wood made his ear shift to your direction, His whole head following suit when he could smell the sweet scent that sat on your skin.
You stuck out like a sore thumb. Maybe not to all the other low lives that surround this place, but Bakugou could tell. Your clothing, though it seemed to match that of the other women around, was too well-tailored; the cloth too fine and expensive and the leather used was not worn enough.
And you had jewels; real ones he could tell. Though you did hide them well, he just had very good eyesight. And really that was the main reason he kept his gaze on you. He wouldn’t mind snagging a few of them for himself; it would allow him to live comfortably for a while – and you could spare a few, couldn’t you?
But there was also a hint of curiosity too; a noble-born on the run? What kind were you exactly? A runaway Princess perhaps? No. He rolled his eyes at himself for the thought – there weren’t nearly enough royal guards around searching for you and causing a ruckus for you to be that.
But there were a few. So perhaps a Countess or even a Duchess? His money was on the latter. The way you carried yourself was not as self-assured and haughty as those that were countesses. If he remembered correctly, those women always flaunted their wealth because they had something to prove.
But the way you sat down and paid for a drink made it clear you didn’t have anything to prove; so, a countess you were not.
You were a pretty thing too. A beauty like you didn’t come around these parts often, and Bakugou couldn’t help but want to continue to look at you. He wasn’t the only one, all these lecherous creatures that were around kept glancing your way – their excitement clear as the whole place grew rowdier.
Not like they had a chance with you, not in hell. They would have to stick with the barmaids and brothels full of women to satisfy any of their barbaric needs. And though Bakugou was technically a part of these grotesque creatures, he was more human than anything; most wolves were. If anyone had a chance it was definitely him.
He knew he was good-looking, could probably pass for a Prince himself if it weren’t for the stupid ears, claws, and tail that held him back. Reduced him to living with others like him on the outskirts of the land, to be treated as a lesser than. That’s why he always found joy whenever a noble, like you, wandered around his turf. He loved scaring them, the frightened expressions as they tried to weakly defend themselves always proved that they were the ones that were beneath him.
But you were different. Bakugou didn’t want to scare you into giving him what he wanted, he wanted you to give it willingly.
“It’s rude to stare.” You mumbled, as you picked up the large mug placed before you and brought the frothy drink up to your lips.
“You’re not gonna like it.” Bakugou replied, eyes moving back to stare at his drink, swirling it, like he was doing before you walked in.
You just rolled your eyes at him, shaking your head lightly before taking a sip. The froth was nice and fizzy, but the rest of it all was the most bitter thing you ever placed in your mouth. You grimaced as it slid down your throat, making it burn all the way down to your stomach. You held back your coughs in defiance of the stranger beside you, not wanting to prove that he was right.
“Told you.” He chuckled, his tone mocking as he downed the rest of his drink, he rested the glass back down heavily on the counter before him “It’s the most bitter thing in this whole world, but it gets you messed up the fastest. But I don’t think you knew that, did you, princess?”
“Don’t call me that….” You mumble, bringing the glass back up to your lips – though it was awful it was helping you blend in more “M’not a princess”
“Could have fooled me.” Bakugou purred as he slunk closer to you, forgetting his glass entirely “Then what are you exactly?”
Your exasperated sigh just made his grin, wolfish and almost feral, spread wider on his face as he leaned on the bar counter; your arms almost touching. You shuffled as much as you could away from the stranger, his breath reeked of alcohol, and you weren’t overly comfortable with how close his face was to yours.
“A traveler, just like you.” You kept your tone pointed, trying your best to prove to this stranger that you didn’t want to talk to him or have him as close as he was.
“No, you’re not.”
“Oh really, now?” You asked through gritted teeth, unable to stop your angry gaze to fall back onto him and his shaking head “And how would you know?”
“These clothes….” He started picking at the wrist of your cotton sleeve, sharp claws ran delicately up and down your forearm “Are too nice, too well-tailored. If you really were a traveler then they wouldn’t be as clean and pristine. They would look more rugged like that chick over there.”
You followed his head movement to where a woman, surrounded by a few men around a dark wooden table, sat drinking merrily – not caring that with each shove and playful push would cause half their ale to slosh onto the floor. But the stranger was right, though her clothing looked nearly identical to you, it wasn’t quite as polished. Loose strings would hang off cuffs and hems, the colouring of the fabrics was more dull, not as vibrant. She looked like she had traveled across many lands, you looked like you just started.
“And” You tensed when you felt his breath in your ear and his hand wandering to your waist “Not many people around here have trinkets such as yours.”
You gulped, throat suddenly very dry, as you looked back at his face; the glint in his eyes made you even more nervous. A lamb suddenly in the jaws of the wolf.
“Are you going to rob me?” You asked, voice trembling. Fright filled your being and shook your body in his loose hold, as you watch him lick his lips “Are you going to hurt me?”
“No.” He chuckled, mirth feeling his being over your frightened state “I’m just wondering who you are, and why you showed up here.”
“Why?”
“Call it curiosity.” He shrugged his shoulders, eyes darting towards the entrance of the tavern; watching briefly as two well-dressed and armed men entered “And you better tell me quickly before they figure out you’re here.”
Your head darted to the entrance as well, eyes widening in fear as you saw the insignia engraved on their chest plates; there was no doubt they were here for you. And that bastard who wouldn’t let you go knew it too.
“Can I just hold your hand?”
“What!?” You whipped your head back as you watched him pull away from you, your breathing quickening in pace as your heart was thumping loudly in your chest that you knew that he could hear it.
“Just take my fucking hand!” He hissed at you, a hand quickly grasping yours before you really had a chance to reach it out to him.
He slunk his other arm so it was now encircled around your waist as he nodded his head at your drink; silently asking you to hold it up for him. You did with a shaky hand, the proximity of his entire being – having it wrapped around you like this – was making your cheeks flush red. You had never been this intimate with a man before, let alone with a stranger. It was all so incredibly overwhelming, it didn't help that being this close only made you realize how attractive he really was.
You wanted to take your eyes off his face, especially when you watched his tongue peek out from his lips to lick around his mouth at the few drops of your drink that spilled out due to your clumsy hand not keeping it steady. You could see his eyes darken and it made you want to shy away; out of fear or something else, you were not sure - the weird sensation that flushed your body was foreign and frightening.
You almost forgot all about the armed men hunting for you until you heard one call out to the pair of you; two pairs of boots rushing to where you sat. You wanted to let out a sigh of relief when his eyes moved from your face; but held back the urge.
“What?” His gruff tone proved he was agitated as he glared daggers at them, almost smirking when he saw them be taken aback by him.
“Excuse your tone!” One of them spoke first, chest-puffing out to look more intimidating than he was. “You do not speak that way to a royal guard!”
“Well, sorry” His mocking tone countered the apology “But I don’t appreciate having you assholes ruining the moment I was sharing.”
“Well, that woman-!” The other interjected, clearly not as afraid as his partner as he got into the stranger's face “Is the runaway Duchess of House L/N! And we are on direct orders to bring her back!”
‘Ah, so you were a Duchess’ Bakugou thought to himself as a smirk crept its way on his face; both out of knowing his assumption about you was right and from this dick of a man who thought he could take him on for size.
“Do you really fucking think that?”
“Don’t speak to me that way.” The man’s tone was dark, his teeth on display as he started to draw his sword out, to prove he meant serious business.
“Then don’t speak to me like that!” Bakugou snarled, fangs on display to show he also meant serious business “Or threaten me in front of my mate! Continue to do it and I’ll rip your throat out right here and now.”
The low, continuous, growl that was coming from his chest was breaking the guard’s tough façade – though it was barely noticeable. But Bakugou could tell that he was getting a little frightened by him, especially when he glanced towards your profile and saw you trembling with fear. Though he couldn’t stare at you for long as he watched a clawed hand place itself at the back of your head and pull you into his chest.
“If she really was the person you’re claiming her to be, then why the fuck would she be in here? Why would she be in a situation like this? Why would she let a beast like me this close?” Bakugou narrowed his eyes at the two men before, as if to challenge his logic wrong.
You both could see, though your vision was limited, the guard’s hand trembling on the hilt of his sword; clearly taking this stranger’s word as fact and now debating what to do next. Bakugou could see the conflict in his eyes – clearly not knowing if he should harass the two of you or move one. His partner, on the other hand, took a step away.
“That’s what I fucking thought.” Bakugou muttered, his eyes watching the weaker of the two, “Now if you’re done threatening us, I suggest you leave before this gets real fucking messy”
You had to commend his acting, truly, as the more brash guard stood upright. He muttered something under his breath, though you couldn’t hear, before both pairs of boots walked sullenly away from you; the footsteps becoming harder to hear the further they went until you couldn’t hear them anymore. A sign that they had left the tavern. The coast now being clear.
“They bought it?” You whispered, pulling yourself more upright as you looked towards where they left.
“Of course, they did” He shrugged, taking your drink once more and downing the last of it “They’re not smart. Besides….” You felt sharp claws take a gentle purchase under your chin to turn your head back to him “They wouldn’t want to fight someone like me”
“Aren’t you full of yourself?” You scoffed, moving away from him fully now. Your mind now coming back to you.
“A ‘you’re welcome’ would be fucking appropriate right now, sweetness. Especially seeing as I risk my life to get you out of that bind.”
You felt him grip your wrist again, and when you looked up at him you could see that same self-satisfied smirk back on his face. It made you roll your eyes and look away once more, a clear look of displeasure on your face as your lips formed a scowl.
He was right, he had helped you out of a really tough bind. His on-the-spot thinking meant that you didn’t have to go back to your home kicking and screaming within those guards’ hold. But, at the same time, he kept touching you without permission. Along with his full-of-himself attitude made saying your gratitude feel as bitter as that liquid burning down your throat.
“Thank you.” You finally managed to mutter out, pulling your hand away from his grip, your scowl deepening further.
“That muuuuuch better!” He cooed, his mocking tone made you ball your fists in anger; but that seemed to only spur him on even more “Now come on, pay up.”
“Pay up…?” You mumbled, your eyebrows furrowing as confusion replaced the annoyance “What…?”
“You owe me, sweetness. Did you a huge favor, now you’re gonna repay me in kind” His arms crossed over his chest that was now puffed out in overconfidence “I can think of a few ways you can too, though let’s start with why those losers were after you in the first place, duchess.”
You sighed; you knew that you had no real choice in the matter, there was no way you were getting out of this. He was strong, and though it was a little hard to tell due to his olive coat and baggy clothing, you were sure he could easily overpower you without breaking a sweat. And well, you weren’t made to fight.
“Fine. I –“ You began, only for one of his fingers to press against your lips; effectively shushing you from speaking further.
“Not here, sweetness” He smirked, enjoying that his little nickname made your nostrils flare in annoyance. “As much as I would love to see you plastered off your ass, I’ve had enough of those low-life extras staring at you.”
He tilted his head towards the other patrons. And true to his word a lot of them were giving you, what they thought were sneaky, glances your way. It could be due to the display that just occurred with those guards stomping your way and causing a scene, but with the suggested undertones of the stranger's words made you question those glances as innocent curiosity.
“Good idea…” You nodded, pulling your head away when you felt the tip of his claw tickle your nose.
You watched him get to his feet, offering you his hand after he got a few paces ahead of you; as if realizing that you didn’t know where he was going. You gingerly took hold of his hand and allowed him to pull you from your seat to stand before him. It was at that moment you realized just how tall and imposing he was compared to you. He didn’t really seem that way when he was hunched over the bar counter, but now? Well, it was enough to make a shiver run down your spine when he loomed over you with that wolfish smirk as he wrapped his arm around you and began to lead you out of the seedy place.
“W-wait!” You whispered; voice frantic as you tried to gain some sense of control over this less-than-ideal situation you found yourself in “I need to know your name before we go any further.”
You heard him huff out an annoyed groan, bringing his free hand up to pass through his hair before it fell limply at his side. “It’s Bakugou, now come on.”
He didn’t give you any time to say anything else, or really to process what he just said. His name only ran through your head with certainty when you felt the cool summer night’s air hit your face.
It was cold.
And damp. Though it was to be expected to some degree in the dense forest you were currently being dragged within. It put you on edge, every little thing that moved and seemed to whisper through the branches; made you tense and cause your breath to quicken at points.
Though after the first little leg of the journey you felt silly for being so afraid. Arguably the most fearsome creature within these forests was the one that was walking beside you in the first place, so really what harm could befall you if you had him on your side?
Bakugou.
He was leading you through this place with expert ease like he had done this thousands of times before to the point where it was more memory than thinking. To where, you were not sure, but given the familiarity and ease you could only assume he was leading you to his home; or den, or cave, or wherever it was a creature like him would rest his head.
The moment you began walking, out of earshot of all those around, he asked you to tell your tale; wanting to fill the silence and hear just what led you here in the first place. And though he was quite chatty at the tavern just moments prior, he was quiet now. Trudging along like it was a chore. Listening to you with almost disinterest even though he was the one curious about your situation in the first place.
It wasn’t like he wasn’t listening or found it boring. He was just lost in thought at the details of your story. How overly complicated life was like at court. All those rules and regulations on how to do the most mundane of things, like living and eating, all boiling down to a miserable, controlled, and boring life.
He didn’t envy you at all. If he had to wake up every day and be told what to wear, how to wear it, how to eat, how to talk to people, he may have just ended it all and run away too. No amount of wealth was worth living in such a way.
Though his interest peaked when you brought up the engagement. The straw that broke the camel’s back as it were; the whole reason you ran off in the first place. It caused his ear to stand pointed atop his head as he listened to your mutterings as best he could.
Enji Todoroki, that was the man who had asked for your hand. That was the man your parents more than willingly threw you out to if it meant more land to their name. Bakugou almost laughed at the sudden shift in your tone when speaking about him, with such anger and disdain. A far cry from the soft-spoken women you were moments prior.
But you couldn’t help it. You didn’t want to marry this cruel man. You didn’t want to be sold out to him like cattle simply for more prosperity for your family. The only reason he was interested was because you were a pretty young face, nothing more really.
It made Bakugou roll his eyes. Of course, Enji would be asking for your hand, even someone like him knew the habits of that old man. One recently separated from his wife and was now looking for a younger, prettier, bride. It was all people could gossip about for months. Wondering which woman he was going to propose to – and well it seemed like it was you.
It was ridiculous really. Not only could he be your father, but he also had sons that were of marrying age. In fact, a more suitable match would be for you to marry one of them. You knew that Shoto was your age, and it would still lead to fortune for your family as he would inherit plenty.
But no. Your parents wanted your life, your destiny, to be tied to the older man. To breed and bear his children until another younger and more beautiful thing came around. It happened to his previous wife, and you knew it would happen to you.
“I deserve more.” You declared, your rant about the whole situation over “I won’t even say I deserve love. I just want to be with someone who at least respects me, and I can tolerate sitting in a room with.”
You let out a loud sigh, glancing at your companion who was still as quiet and unreadable as when you started. The only thing that indicated that he was still listening, or just remembering your presence, was the small hums of acknowledgment he would give every now and then.
“I don’t think that’s too much to ask…” You mumble out, feeling slightly awkward from the silence that had now befallen you.
“Your life is ridiculous.” Bakugou finally muttered, bringing a hand up to move a branch out of his way “No wonder you want to fucking leave it. I wouldn’t wanna spend one day as you, let alone deal with that bullshit.”
He had a way with words, one that made you chuckle at how brash and crude they were. No one dared speak that way at court, let alone around a lady. But you found it refreshing that he didn’t care; that he spoke what was on his mind regardless of decorum. That he was honest.
“What are you smiling at?” Bakugou asked, tone irritated as he looked down at you – hating the way your lips turn upwards in that annoying little grin.
“Nothing…” You giggled out, your tone going up in a teasing way as you turned away from him. “You just talk differently.”
“Eh!? What do you mean by that!” He yelled, stepping ahead, and blocking your path with ease.
“I-I don’t mean any harm by it!” You held your hands up in defense to prove your point further “I like it actually…”
The way you mumbled out the last part, and how you bashfully moved your head to look downwards made the man before you smirk. That wolfish grin was back on his face, one that you didn’t know whether you missed or hated, as he leaned down to breathe in your ear. The way you shivered slightly when it hit your ear did not go unnoticed by him.
“If you like that, then you’ll love the way I sound when - !”
You pushed past him before he could even think of finishing that thought; catching him off guard if the little grunt was any indication. Your whole being was too flustered to even want to know where his mind was going.
“D-don’t!” You warned, your voice still sounding nervous but the volume it was at was proof you meant serious business “I don’t want to know!”
You were cute like this, Bakugou couldn’t deny. A little thing so easily flustered by him was refreshing, and it made the animal in him roar loudly. Oh, what he would do to something like you. He would absolutely wreck you, ruin any little part of innocence you had left within you.
His motive now changed. He no longer wanted your trust so you could give him those jewels that were tucked neatly away. He wanted something more precious, more untainted than money. But he would have to play it smart if he were ever going to obtain it.
“Come on,” Bakugou rolled his eyes, trying to seem unfazed by your little outburst “It’s only a little further ahead.”
“What is?” You asked, fidgeting on the spot as you watched him walk ahead and away from you once more – his arm pulling back a branch to clear the path before you.
“My house, dumbass. I want to get out of the cold as soon as possible, so hurry up!”
You didn’t hesitate to scramble yourself forward; feet trying their best to move as quickly as they could to heed his command. You would be lying if you said you didn’t want to get out of the cold night’s air and get some rest. Even if it was in the home of the strange man-wolf in front of you.
~ ~ ~
His home was not what you expected it to be.
Not at all.
It was cozy. A small cottage that seemed just the right size for someone to live in comfort, but not with too much space to spare. It looked soft too, the upholstered chairs, his bed, even the bear-skinned rug before his fireplace, all looked so soft. That if you were to touch them you would delve into them – sinking eternally in their plushness.
It really was what you wanted most. You had been running all day, and after that walk through the forest to get here, only proved just how worn your feet and body had become. You sighed out in relief once you had the chance to take off those dreaded boots; watching in curiosity at the wolf before as he placed birch logs into the open maw of the fireplace. Humming constantly when those logs burned and quickly filled the home with a gentle warmth.
“Get over here.” You heard Bakugou growl out, watching him in confusion as he rested back on his haunches; elbows resting on his knees as he rubbed his hands together at the flickering flames. 
“Come on!” He urged again, head finally snapping back to you. Rolling his eyes at the witless expression on your face as you continued to stand uncomfortably at his threshold “I know you’re cold, so hurry and get yourself warm.”
You nodded your head, scrambling once more to heed his command. Feet padding gently on the wooden floor before it was muted by the softness of the fur before the fire. When you sat, you couldn’t stop yourself from running your hands through the dense fur, marveling at how it felt under your fingertips. This was possibly the only time you would ever get to touch this kind of beast, and you were going to enjoy it as much as you could.
Though, after a few moments the lure of the fire called your name. Your cold bones were unable to resist the temptation and you found yourself with outstretched arms towards it. Enjoying the warm glow as flames almost seemed to lick and nip at your fingertips.
“What’s your next step?” Bakugou asked, unable to keep himself quiet. Not when he had you all to himself once more “You’re staying the night, obviously. But after that.”
His tone made it clear that it wasn’t up for debate on whether or not you would find shelter here for the night or continue on your way. Not that you were complaining. You would spend every day here in the warm solitude this small cottage provided.
“I’m not sure…” You finally whispered out, after pondering that question in your head for a few moments. “To be honest I didn’t expect to get this far…”
You saw the look he gave you; it was a mixture of annoyance and disbelief. Like he couldn’t believe that you truly had no plan, no thoughts on where you might go and do, as you figured the moment you started to run you would be caged again. It made you pull your hands back into your lap, fidgeting with them nervously, clearly showing you were a little embarrassed by your truth.
“He’s a powerful man.” You reasoned, trying to get him to understand “And I have never known life outside of my family’s estate and court. I wasn’t expecting to get far with the little knowledge I had. Or with his hounds on my tail…”
You chuckled, Bakugou joining you for a moment as well, remembering those idiotic guards you had crossed paths with. How useless they were. Though, after tonight you knew more would be spread out in an attempt to find you. And as the man before you had stated the moment he met you, you stuck out in a crowd. So really, where could you go to hide?
“I have nowhere to go.” You finally admitted, shaking your head. You had been foolish to even think that this would work in the first place “Even if I were able to slip through the border, someone would alert them of me once I tried to sell my jewels. Or they would take them and sell me out for the bounty that will surely be over my head soon.”
“So what? That’s it?” Bakugou retorted, bewilderment in his tone at how easily you were accepting defeat “All that work just to go running back with your tail between your legs!?”
“I don’t have a choice!” You snapped back, eyes narrowing back at his own “I have no friends outside these walls. Only those that wish to see me go back to that horrid fate for a quick coin! Much like you!”
“I don’t want your stupid jewels anymore!” Bakugou defended, hands turning into fists at your truthful accusation – claws digging into his palms.
“So what? You still wanted them the first moment you saw them! Who is to say someone else won’t rob me for what I have on me, and leave me penniless and stranded? Or worse…”
You shook your head at those horrid thoughts. Not wanting to think of those dark and twisted outcomes that may befall you if you were to continue out of these woods. And though returning back to that man was not a fate you wished to have, it was better than whatever may come to you if you continued.
“The safest outcome for me is going back….”
You whispered your sealed fate; taking in a shaky breath to try and calm yourself down, trying your best to ignore the crimson eyes that stared intently at you. Though those breaths quickly turned heated as anger clouded your mind. You threw your fists against the rug as you let out a wail of frustration and anger over that decision; a foot kicking out to topple the small stack of wood that sat before you.
“It’s just not fair!” You declared through clenched teeth “It’s my life! Why can’t I have any say in how it will go!? Why do I have to marry that bastard?”
You took one glance at the man beside you, searching his eyes for some sort of answer. When you could not find one, you sighed out once more before bringing your knees to your chest, resting your chin upon them like a pouting child.
“If you’re gonna have to go back…” You heard Bakugou, his tone softer as if in sympathy for you, as he raked his brain for that solution you were hoping for “Then get even with them.”
“What?” You softly questioned, your face turning back to him – that wolfish grin was back, and it made you nervous at what he was going to say next.
“If you’re gonna have to marry that asshole no matter what. Then the best way to get back at them all is to give up that sweet virtue of yours. And what better ‘fuck-you’ would it be if you gave it to someone like me?”
Your mouth went dry at his words, finding it near impossible to swallow that lump that was now in your throat. He wanted you to do something that was ingrained into you since childhood as sacred; something only to be done to by the person you were to be bound with for the rest of your living days on this land.
And the almost casual way he brought it up, accompanied by those burning eyes – ones that made the fire before you seem mild in comparison – meant that this wasn’t his first time in seducing a lady; to ask her to keep him company for the night.
But a part of you couldn’t help but be seduced by it all. By the thought of going against tradition, against your family, and especially against that man that already broken the sacred oaths before; so why shouldn’t you? Why should you deny yourself this one, and only, rebellion you could dish out? Why should you deny yourself to feel the touch of this handsome man before you? One that seemed to want to give you, probably, the only night of passion and enjoyment you will ever receive?
You couldn’t.
And that was probably why you felt your heart nearly explode in your chest, as a fire ignited in your belly once you felt his warm and slightly chapped lips touch yours.
Your whole body seemed to melt when you felt his palm reach up to caress your cheek and pull you closer, and deeper, into the sweet kiss. A gesture that seemed so small, yet it showed to you a level of tenderness that he had yet to openly give you since you met him. It made you want to return his kiss with fervor.
Bakugou chuckled at your eagerness, finding it endearing at your clumsy and inexperienced actions that were hidden behind your enthusiasm. It meant that you wanted this. And if you wanted this, then it meant that he could show you a night you will never forget. One that you would remember every single time that old bastard took you into his bed at night – that whenever he took you, you would only be reminded of him instead.
That thought made Bakugou growl deep within his chest. For some reason, he really hated that thought. And when he pulled away from the kiss, he couldn’t help himself but duck lower, to your neck, and start to leave his mark on the untouched flesh.
Your whimpers doing nothing but spur him on. He wanted to hear every little sound you could make; wanted you to hear you wail, moan, and scream his name. The animal in him was being set loose, and he was trying his hardest to not let it run free. Though it was proving harder to do when he felt your trembling hands tug at his coat, feeling your hands slip under the fur of his collar to the smooth skin underneath it.
“Kiss me again” You breathlessly whispered to him, your hands pushing down on his neck to bring him closer “Please?”
Bakugou was unable to suppress his low groan at your words, as he brought his head away from your neck back up to yours. Lips clashing with yours in a messy kiss, one that he dominated easily. Who was he to say no to such a pretty request?
Your kisses become more urgent, almost hurried as the moments pass. Unable to let each other part for too long, even if it was to breathe. A part of it was because his lips felt so wonderful on yours, a tantalizing sensation that left you tingling all over. But the other reason was out of bashfulness. Unable to let yourself fully part from him, to look at him, as he slowly untied and unbuckled every piece of clothing you had.
His touches were gentle. The way his fingertips, and claws, would slightly drag over your skin, like a butterfly’s kiss, made goosebumps appear in their wake. Made you shiver and let out shaky breaths as you parted from one another. Your breath mingling with his, and allowing this reprieve, to fully undress.
You bit your tender lip when you felt his heated gaze wash over your skin. It made you squirm; made you place your hands around your chest to hide from his piercing gaze. Unable to stand the heat of it.
He truly was a predator that caught himself a prize, at least that’s how it seemed when he looked at you. He certainly didn’t appreciate you hiding your beautiful skin from him, your wonderful body. A low growl, one that almost mimicked the warning he gave to those guards an hour prior, rumbled into his chest as he pulled your arms away from your chest.
His grasp was firm, but not painful, you could feel the warning in it; telling you to not do something similar again as he laid your nearly bare form down onto the fur. Pinning your arms above your head
“Keep them there.” Bakugou commanded, his rumbling voice that resembled gravel made it clear to you that you had to obey.
And obey you did. You relaxed your arms and turned your wrist inwards as your fingers once again threaded through the bear’s fur. Trying your best to keep yourself grounded, avoiding becoming too sheepish, as to let him continue his ministries.
Swift hands made quick work of your skirts, ridding them and causing you to lay bare before him; the first man to ever see you this was since you were a babe. His gaze was telling more than words ever could at just how wonderful you seemed to look. And though you couldn’t keep eye contact with him for long, he could see the heat in your eyes as well once he started to shed his garments. That smug smirk was the main reason you turned your head away.
Bakugou’s hands started tracing your collarbone, following it along from shoulder to shoulder. His lips came down onto it a moment later to lavish it with wet kisses. You could feel his smirk on your skin when he nipped at a particularly tender spot, enjoying how your hips bucked up slightly into his own.
He was enjoying this as much as you. If the slight breeze of air that came in contact with your legs, the slight brush of coarse hair, caused by the wagging of his tail was any sign. It made you giggle breathless as you watched the appendage pick up speed the lower his lips descended on your body.
He kept up this tender care all throughout your chest. Slowly moving his hands downward, his lips following moments later over the swell of your breasts, allowing the soft kisses to distract you as his fingers pinched at your hardening nipples.
Your mewls spurred him on to take one of the hardened buds into his mouth, eyes glancing up to see if you were liking the way his tongue flicked over it rapidly. Chuckling when you arched your back, and let out a keen, over what he was doing to you. That needy whine sent shivers straight to his cock, as it bobbed up against his stomach.
It was only when his hands slipped themselves down in between your legs that you moved your hands to grasp his wrist. The combination of the low groan that left his mouth mixed with all the wetness that found itself on your thighs was too much for you.
“I said!” Bakugou growled once more, speaking to you through clenched teeth “Keep your hands out of the way.”
He pried your hands off his wrist and moved them once again, this time to rest at your sides. And though you closed your eyes once more in embarrassment, he kept his eyes trained on your face when pressed his hands moved behind your knees to pull them up and apart – baring your weeping cunt to the fire's light.
“Look at me.”
It was hard for you to follow his request, a whimper escaping your throat to show your unease, but finally opening your eyes when he asked once more, tone soft and gentle, to look back down at him. He was handsome and looked so alluring with his hair all mused and ears pointed in between your legs, as he gently caressed your plush thighs in a comforting manner.
You couldn’t help the gasp that came froth, almost in a shrill manner, when you watched his tongue take a long and heavy stripe up your core; not missing the way his claws now dug into your skin, it was almost painful.
“S-stop! Don’t…” You cried out, hands twitching at your sides, trying their hardest to not push him away “Don’t do that, it – it’s dirty down there!”
Bakugou scoffed at your claim, taking a bite out of your thigh to have you look back at him. Once you do he repeats the action, this time accompanying it with a groan – smirking once more at the flush that was now making it down your neck.
“Not dirty at all.” He shrugged his shoulders before settling into a more comfortable position “How can something that tastes as good as you, be dirty?”
You didn’t have an answer for him. Not that you could really, not when your brain did nothing but short-circuit and turn to mush when you felt his tongue swipe up and down at your glistening folds. Unable to hold back any of the mewls and moans that crept out of your throat; especially when his lips found that special bundle of nerves and began to suckle on it.
Bakugou was taking his time, though it was a little bit agonizing. As much as he wished to go faster, to hear the wonton screams that he knew he could make you sing, he knew that you needed this to be as passionate and tender as it could be. So, whenever you would look back on this night, you would not regret allowing him this.
Not that he truly minded. The sounds of your gasps, your twitching thighs, and your bucking hips made up for it. Especially when he slipped a finger into your warmth and felt you tight walls fluttering around the digit. It was delightful, so much so he couldn’t help but let a growl; the vibrations making your hips jump once more. If you felt this good around his finger, he could only imagine how amazing it would feel having your gummy walls around his cock.
After a few pumps, he added another finger. Pushing through your tight entrance to help properly prepare you for his thick member; not wanting it to hurt once he finally got around to fucking you. The sinful, loud, whines you let out as your back arched when he began to scissor his fingers made his head a little dizzy. So aroused by it all that he couldn’t help himself from rutting his hips, and hard cock, on the rug beneath him.
You had the rug gripped between your fingers, your knuckles going white at how tightly you were holding on, as you felt a bundle start to twine in your gut. One that seemed built out of fire and that twisted almost painfully the more he licked, sucked, and played with your weeping core.
“Come on, sweetness” He nearly begs, his voice going hoarse “I can feel you fluttering around me, just let go. I got you.”
You babbled, though you’re not sure of what, as you listened to his gentle command. Unable to resist, you did as he said, and let go of that tight knot deep within you; allowing it to snap and your body to go rigid. Head moving side to side as you whimpered and wept over the overwhelming sensation.
Though it was only now that you truly understood why so many called this feeling ‘le petite mort’ as you felt a part of your soul had died and found its way to heaven. You couldn’t help but want to feel this feeling over and over again until you yourself passed on. Though it was sinful, you had never felt anything so wondrous.
You whimpered when you felt his fingers slowly leave your tender hole, not wanting the feeling of being full to leave you so soon. And neither did Bakugou. He didn’t want to let up when you finally came, wanting instead to continue – to overstimulate you until you were a blubbering, teary-eyed mess, that was begging him to stop. But he couldn’t help himself. He needed to be in you, right now.
“You ready?” He whispered, bringing his hand up to softly caress your cheek, the tip of his cock twitching against your thigh “Cause we can – can stop if you want.”
“No!” You begged, bringing your own hand up to grasp his; kissing his palm “P-please, I want more.”
Your soft confession made Bakugou moan out, hiding his head in the crook of your neck, as he tried to compose himself once more. He knew what he was doing when he started, corrupting your innocence, however he was not expected to become this turned on – affected – by your turning.
He now needed more, want a distant memory from when he began. He placed the blunt head of his cock at your entrance and slowly pushed in, groaning at the tight heat that welcomed him as he slowly, inch by inch, sheathed himself. The stretch itself was a little painful for you, the more he pushed in, but not in a bad way. It simply just felt strange, as you had never felt a man in you before.
Though the more that kept entering you, the more you would whimper out. You had felt full when his fingers were within you, but this was an entirely different sensation; an entirely different feeling of being full. One that made your eyes shut tightly as your mind could only focus on the slightly pleasant burn of being stretched wide.
Bakugou let out a huff, head dangling above yours; some of his hair tickling your cheeks as he allowed you the time needed to adjust to the new sensation. And himself if he was honest. Your cunt was so tight that, mixed with his earlier actions, made him almost cum then and there once he bottomed out.
“You can move now…” You mumbled, pushing his hair back so you could look into his eyes.
He didn’t say anything back, just simply nodded his head as he adjusted your legs to rest upon his hip. It made you moan softly at the shift, his cock feeling deeper in you. Though that moan turned into a hiss when you moved his hips back slightly, your walls still sore from his intrusion; still burned. But Bakugou was careful with his movements, only moving an inch at a time before moving back fully into you.
It was a slow process, but soon he was able to pull almost all the way out before snapping his hips back into yours, quiet pained whimpers turned themselves into cries of pleasure with each thrust. You couldn’t help but bring your around his shoulder, your nails pressing crescent moons into his back with every slam of his cock into you.
The burn of feeling your nails drag into your skin made Bakugou grip your hips ever tighter. You both knew with the way his nails into your flesh, breaking your flesh and having slight trickles of blood run down your legs, meant that there would be scars; ones that your soon-to-be-husband would soon see. And that made you moan out louder, knowing that there would always be a reminder of this night for years to come.
“You like that, don’t you?” Bakugou asked through labored breath, his pace picking up speed as pulled you down to meet his thrusts; salivating at your bouncing chest “You like when I mark your skin? Like when I use your sloppy cunt, use you like the slut that you are?”
Bakugou laughed darkly when you whined at his words and shook your head no. Though you were denying his claims, your body was telling a very different tale; if the amount of slick that dripped down both your thighs was any indication.
“No?” He mocked, a smug smirk forming on his face as your lidded eyes met his “Then why did I feel you clench at my words, huh? Like – ah – like that sweetness? You like when I’m mean to you, don’t you? I told you, you would love how I would sound.”
All you could was keen, brain turning hazy at the sensations he was overloading you with. He was leading you back to that cliff, and you wanted nothing more than to fall over it once again as you brought your legs to lock around his back as you babbled out strings of pleas for him to keep going.
 “Yeah, you’re gonna cum again? I can feel it, sweetness, your walls milking my cock.” Bakugou grunted when he felt one of your hands tug the hair at the base of his neck “Come on then, cum. Cum all over my fat cock, milk it – come on!”
He took your hand away from his hair, clasping it into his as he lowered his body onto yours; entwining your fingers together as he continued to say filthy words to help bring you over that edge. When you felt his pelvis rub so deliciously over your clit you couldn’t help but be sent over the edge; pulling him even closer as your body shook at the powerful release.
Bakugou groaned, quickly following suit when he felt your walls clamp down on him. Unable to stop himself from painting your insides white, with rope after rope of his seed, as he bit another mark onto your neck.
You let the moments pass, let it go by serenely as you basked in each other’s afterglow. Not wanting to leave one another so quickly after such an event. You wanted to hold him close as your heart slowly started to beat at a normal rate, and Bakugou wanted to do the same.
Though, once his cock had softened, he felt it was time to get you both cleaned up. And with a soft hiss as he left your warmth, he slowly lifted himself from your warm embrace; suddenly feeling cold even with the fire next to him.
“Be right back.” He mumbled as he got to his feet, not bothering to hide his body like you were as he walked to where his washing room was.
You took this moment to sit up, wincing at the soreness that now encompassed your lower half, as you searched for your shift; wanting to cover yourself, if only slightly. That’s when you found your small leather pouch, the one that contained all the valuables you thought to take with you.
Around the drawstring of the bag, helping to keep the thing closed, was your family heirloom. A giant sapphire broach that was surrounded by silver in an intricate design; a pattern that was designated to your family only. It was invaluable. And you thought that if Bakugou was kind enough to leave you a memento, you should do the same.
You clutched the item to your chest when you heard him step back into the room, washcloth in hand. You continued to hold it close to you, hiding it away, as he tenderly cleaned between your legs and the now dried blood at your hips. A kind gesture that made you relax once more into his touch.
He crawled up your body once more to place a soft kiss on your lips as his arms wrapped securely around you. You yelped when he picked you up, head spinning from suddenly being off the ground. He chuckled at your reaction, it only increased when you scolded him.
He led you to his bed and allowed you to get yourself comfortable before joining you. His heart thumping in his chest, and his tail annoyingly wagging, when you moved yourself to snuggle into his side. Your hands softly wandered over the muscles on his chest, as you gazed up at him once more; a small smile formed on your face.
“Here,” You whispered, holding your trinket out to him, waiting for him to take it. You relished in the soft, gingerly, touch he gave your hand before grabbing hold of your treasure.
“What is this?” He asked, voice still dark and raspy as he inspected it further in the moonlight.
“My family broach. It’s invaluable, probably worth a lot of money.” You explained, rubbing small circles with your fingertips on the skin of his collar bone “It was what you wanted to take when you first saw me. And though you can’t steal me away, you can steal this. As something to remember me by.”
You meant it as a joke, light humor to help ease yourself into more mirthful humor rather than one of sadness over what was to transpire once you woke. You snuggled yourself deeper into the blankets, into his embrace as you placed your head on his chest. The lull of slumber began to swiftly overtake you.
Bakugou couldn’t follow suit though. Couldn’t stop his mind from racing as he looked at the broach. The more he thought about it, as he now looked down on your slumbering face, how sweet and perfect you looked under the moonlight rays, the more he realized that he wanted to keep you. So maybe, just maybe, he would steal you away from them after all.
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hollythius · 11 months
Text
IT’S A SYMBOL OF OUR FRIENDSHIP! | secret relationship headcannons
featuring | alhaitam, kaveh, tighnari, childe
prompt | as secret lovers, your favorite pastime is buying incognito matching items for you and your partner. but after so many grandiose, lovingly picked items start to alert your friends— well, what do you say?
tldr | i love secret relationship tropes 🫶 especially when it’s by choice and not necessity. reader is gn, i tried to be funny (it didn’t work), help i cant write any of these characters, uhh enjoy!! reblogs help btw! this got way off topic, uhhhh i’m having fun with these hehe
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ALHAITAM — matching rings
the great sage was rarely fond of people, and even rarer was when he purposefully went out of his way to do something for another person. thus, after you had gotten over the initial shock of his confession— wham! he had pulled you aside to hand you a box that held matching rings. you almost fainted, the insanity of your precious haitham not understanding the implications of such jewelry threw you for a loop. however, you accepted it as a sort of promise ring, the silver band wrapped with green, vine-like markings. kaveh was the first to notice. “what’s that you’ve got there?” he smirked. his pointer finger directed at alhaitam’s middle finger where the ring rested. “oh, and what’s this? y/n has one too? oh my!” and alhaitam, sweet, red faced alhaitam, simply said, “it’s a gesture of our friendship!” you shook your head, smiling. kaveh laughed. you knew he was starting to suspect you anyway.
KAVEH — matching earrings
having your boyfriend’s roommate intrude on the two of you was rare, but that didn’t mean it didn’t happen. you were beginning to think it was on purpose— alhaitam was smart, and it wouldn’t take a genius to realize your relationship. (especially with how affectionate kaveh was sometimes) “y/n, help me put them in,” kaveh whines. “hold on, kaveh. here,” you finished putting your own earrings in, before coming over to kaveh. you press a kiss to his temple, which leads to him kissing your wrist— soon the earrings are left forgotten on the vanity and your collective priority is to kiss each other to death. these ministrations hold your attention so tightly that you don’t hear the knock at the door. or the ‘i’m coming in’ from alhaitham. well, he was bound to find out one way or another.
TIGHNARI — matching bracelets
tighnari’s tongue stuck out a little when he was focused— a cute habit of his that you had yet to comment on. now, he was focused on latching a clasp on a bracelet he had bought you. on his wrist was a matching one: gold and green with incredible luster. he was struggling. “need help, nari?” you ask, giggling. “no. m’fine.” he was certainly not fine, with how long it was taking him. “you’re so cute,” you say softly, tighnari looking up at you annoyed. “and?” you laugh again, the clasp on your bracelet still not closed. you kiss the top of his head, chuckling. “i think you need some help, hon.”
CHILDE — matching scarves
the chilly weather of snezhnaya warranted thick coats, long bottoms, and heavy boots. hats or earmuffs were common, but scarves were practically a staple fashion item. they could be worn multiple ways, styled impeccably, and still keep you warm. so when childe gifted you a red scarf that perfectly matched his own, you melted. “is this for me?” you whispered, childe chuckling at the awe in your tone. “uh-huh. look, it matches mine! and red’s a common color here, so it doesn’t look suspicious,” he said. but the real test would be when he was out in public. the red on his face could easily be explained away as from the cold, but you knew that the rosy tint was him blushing. you buried your face in your own scarf, embarrassed. childe just thought it made you look cuter.
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youneedsomeprompts · 5 months
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~ IT'S FATE, RIGHT? ~ ARRANGED MARRIAGE PROMPTS
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requested by: various anons requests: see full requests at the end of the post
Feel free to use and reblog!
Part 1 (kinda): 10 marriage of convenience prompts
Setting/action:
#1 - freaking out briefly every morning when they realise they're sharing the house with their newlywed spouse #2 - finding out new quirks of the other with great fascination #3 - trying to willingly make the other a part of their daily habits #4 - getting that strange feeling in their belly whenever they introduce the other as their "spouse" #5 - being awkward around each other because they don't know how polite or how casual they should be #6 - being nervous because how do you do the married thing? #7 - slowly but surely growing fond of the other #8 - getting used to the other's company and being completely thrown when they're suddenly in a situation on their own #9 - making time to have dates to get to know the other better because you should know your spouse, right? (there's absolutely nothing romantic about it, alright?) #10 - biting their tongue because somehow everything they say comes out as flirty and that's not who they are, right?
Dialogue:
#11 - "We have to be married, but we don't have to pretend we are that lovey-dovey newlyweds when we're clearly not." "I'm just trying to be nice." #12 - "You... look pretty." "Really? You never said that before." "Well, then certainly I was blind." #13 - "Wow, you're actually really fun to be around." "Well, and you really have to work on your compliment skills." #14 - "You don't know how glad I am that fate brought us together. This is much more pleasant than I had thought." #15 - "I think we're doing this pretty well. I am certainly glad to have you by my side while figuring out all this being married stuff." #16 - "Who would have thought we would end up like this?" #17 - "Thank you for being so patient with me." "How I see it, marriage isn't about intense feelings and going all in for one particular moment. It's about making a promise for the future and every day to come to stick it out together and be each other's backbone. What is marriage if not patience?" #18 - "May I ask you something? Why me? It's certainly not because you were madly in love with me. So, why me?" #19 - "We're the bestest of teams, aren't we? Unstoppable! The ultimate duo!" #20 - "Even though this was meant to be a rational affair and just a wise deal, you changed my life. Marrying you was both the best and the most nerve-racking thing I could've done."
(requests: hii i was thinking could you do like a newly arranged marriage thing and like action prompts and dialogue prompts where they haven't gotten too comfortable around the other yet but they're starting to like each other or something 😭 I hope I could explain it somewhat well; Hey could you do an arranged marriage prompt where they don't hate each other but are just nervous around each other ish; arranged marriage secret affection prompts?)
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diazsdimples · 4 days
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HC: Tommy has a cat who doesn't like many people, but she always demands cuddles from Buck.
Anon, you sparked a Thing™️
Tommy tells Buck he has a cat fairly early on in their relationship. She's his baby, as he calls her. He's had her since he came out to L.A, having adopted her from a shelter a few months into him working with the 118.
One of the first selfies Buck receives is of Tommy lying on his bed, and the cat curled up protectively on his chest. She's a tabby with a dusting of white around her nose that makes Buck wonder about her age. The way Tommy talks about her makes her sound like a kitten, fresh from the womb, but Buck suspects she's probably around 13-14 years old.
When Buck goes to Tommy's apartment for the first time, he warns him about her. Buck can tell Tommy's a little nervous with the way he keeps glancing back at the lounge as he talks, as if he's expecting the cat to give him some big lecture about bringing a boy home without her express permission.
"Now, don't take it personally if Luna ignores you. She hates pretty much everyone," Tommy says as he kisses Buck's cheek and drags him inside the apartment.
It's a nice place, pretty much exactly what Buck expected from his boyfriend (is that what they are now? Boyfriends?). It's full of trinkets from Tommy's life, but it isn't cluttered - a perfect mixture of clean and chaotic, exactly like Tommy himself.
Tommy keeps his hand on the small of Buck's back as he guides him through to the lounge. Buck likes the way Tommy touches him. It makes him feel safe, grounded, as though Tommy could catch him if he falls.
Tommy' s got a couch not too dissimilar to Eddie's, but a deep maroon rather than blue. And there, right in the middle and nestled among a mess of blankets that Tommy has clearly set up for her, lies the person (creature?) in Tommy's life that Buck has been the most anxious to meet.
Tommy makes a chirping noise with his lips and Luna's ears perk up. Slowly, as though her very bones are creaking, she untangles herself from the blankets and hops down from the couch with a quiet "brrrpp". She stretches deeply, ears flattening against her head and eyes screwing shut, and the look of pure bliss that crosses her face is enough to capture Buck's entire heart.
Buck looks at Tommy for guidance as Luna gingerly walks over to him and looks up at him with big, beseeching eyes.
"Go on," Tommy prompts, giving Buck a small nudge with his elbow. "Let her sniff your hand."
Buck crouches and stretches out his hand towards Luna, offering her the backs of his fingers.
"Hi Luna," he almost whispers as she eyes him suspiciously. "I'm Buck, your dad's - uh - friend."
Tommy scoffs from behind him. "I think we're well past the friend stage, Evan."
"I didn't know - I'm sorry - I'm your dad's boyfriend," he corrects, looking back up at Tommy with a raised eyebrow.
Tommy nods, looking pleased. "Much better."
Buck just about leaps out of his skin when a wet nose touches his hand, and he turns back to see that Luna's moved closer, and is sniffing his fingers with interest. He holds stock still, remembering Tommy's words about her crotchety temperament and not wanting to frighten her, lest she bite him, or worse, run away.
Luna continues her sniffing, tiny pink nose moving minutely as she inhales, and then, much to Buck's shock, she rubs her whole face against his hand, with what can only be described as a smug purr.
"I-" Buck begins, looking back at Tommy with wide eyes. Tommy himself looks a little stunned, clearly thrown by his cat's rare display of affection.
"Huh," he says, crossing his arms over his chest and looking down at Buck and Luna with a deeply fond expression. "She's never done that before!"
Luna sits back on her haunches and gives a loud, croaky yowl, as though she's been a chain-smoker for most of her life. She nudges her head against Buck's hand and meows once again.
"I think she wants you to sit down," Tommy says, barely concealing his laughter at Buck's bewildered face. He takes Buck gently by the arm and gives him a quick kiss before directing him to the couch.
"I thought you said she hates everyone?" Buck questions, almost numbly as he allows Tommy to push him onto the plush cushions. The moment his ass has touched the couch, Luna leaps up beside him with a pleased chirp and climbs into his lap.
"She does," Tommy grins as he pulls out his phone, taking a quick snap of his extremely confused boyfriend and even more contented cat. "Clearly she has good taste."
Luna's purring is reaching volumes previously unknown to man, drowning out all other noise in the room as she begins to make biscuits against Buck's thigh. Her claws are sharp and needle-like, pricking into Buck's skin but he's too stunned to do anything more than mutely pet her silky fur.
"Wh-what do I do now?" Buck asks, looking at Tommy for guidance. He'd been expecting to possibly see a streak of Luna's fur as she raced across the apartment to hide under Tommy's bed - her favourite place apparently - but now here he is with a whole ass cat on his lap, one who apparently loves him and hates every other guest Tommy's ever had over, and Buck really has no clue where to go from here.
Tommy chuckles and reaches over to scratch behind Luna's ears before leaning forward and capturing Buck's lips in a soft kiss, his fingers gently caressing Buck's chin.
"Stay there, I'll go get us a beer," he says as he pulls away, and leaves Buck in the lounge with Luna. She's curled up completely in his lap now, tail tucked over her paws, and every so often she tilts her head up towards him, demanding scritches that he is more than happy to provide her with.
Tommy returns with two beers and hands one to Buck before flopping next to him on the couch, looping an arm around Buck's shoulders.
"I guess you've gotta stay forever now, Luna's not gonna let you leave," he jokes, and something twists in Buck's stomach, making him a little giddy.
He really likes Tommy - hell, he might even love the guy - but receiving the seal of approval from his cat is probably the biggest step in their relationship to date. Well, it really isn't but is sure feels like that. Like he's being welcomed into the family.
Buck sighs happily and rests his head against Tommy's shoulder, a small shiver rushing through him as Tommy noses his hairline, his lips brushing ever so gently against Buck's temple.
"Yeah, I guess I do."
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Text
The trouble with cones
Written for the @steddiemicrofic challenge, December 2023 edition
Prompt: pine, 508 words
Rated: M
CW: Explicit language
Tags: Coffee shop owner Steve; Tattoo studio owner Eddie; Flirting; Teasing; Sexual Tension
(Everything goes under the cut bc Eddie jumps right to the important question.)
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“Is that a butt plug?”
Steve pinches his nose and heaves a long-suffering sigh. Tries to steel himself for the sight awaiting him. Turns and realizes he failed.
Eddie is leaning in the door of his tattoo studio, mouth curled into a cocky grin. Sleeves rolled up, like the cold doesn't bother him at all, revealing lean forearms covered in ink. Snowflakes gathering in his hair, stark white against the dark curls.
“Fucking hilarious,” Steve rolls his eyes, just barely remembers to cap his window marker before he tugs his freezing hands into his armpits. “Don't you have better things to do?”
“Well…” Eddie's eyes crinkle. “I'm not the one drawing a butt plug on my window.”
“It's a pine cone!” Steve sputters, face lighting up like a furnace. It stings in the frosty air. “Jesus fuck- it's supposed to look festive, why would I draw a butt plug?”
Eddie watches him gesture at the cursed creation he has spent the last thirty minutes slaving over with an expression full of fond indulgence. When Steve signed the contract for his quaint little coffee shop, he wondered why there were no other bidders for the place …
“See, I wondered, but who am I to kink shame you?”
He is beginning to suspect the reason now.
“It is a pine cone,” he insists lamely. “It even has the- what d'you call them? The little nub thingies!”
Eddie quirks a brow. Steve turns and looks at his work.
“Oh fuck,” he groans.
Eddie pulls some hair in front of his mouth, but his shoulders are shaking treacherously. Steve thinks he dies, just a little.
“Here, lemme help.”
Eddie's hands are warm as he steals the marker from his stiff fingers. He whips his bandana from his back pocket to wipe the embarrassing evidence of Steve's total lack of artistic talent off the window, and then-
Then he works his magic. Steve watches him bounce to and fro before the glass like a manic blur of creative energy, brow furrowed in concentration, tongue poking out from between plush lips.
When he steps away, Steve doesn't say anything for a second. Too mesmerized by the image Eddie has thrown together with those quick, efficient strokes of his wrist. A steaming mug of coffee, surrounded by a cluster of artfully scattered pine cones, baubles and twinkling lights dangling above.
“Thanks,” he finally manages to croak. “It's… That really wasn't-”
And then Eddie grabs his arm and pushes back the sleeve of his sweater and he forgets what words are.
“Did you…” he squawks when he finally remembers. “Did you just write on my arm with window marker?”
“Yup,” Eddie says proudly, tugging the marker into Steve’s back pocket. “So that you know where to find me. In case you ever need my assistance with any conical objects again.”
He winks, and then he's skipping into his studio. Steve stays outside and stares at the numbers on his arm for a long time. The snow falls around him, but suddenly he isn't cold anymore.
Part 2
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flamingpudding · 6 months
Text
Fictober23 Prompt: 19 - "What if we're wrong?"
Fandom: DPxDC
Rating: T
Warnings: -
A/N: Sort of Danny's perspective and a different side to Prompt 4, probably not as creative as the awesome reblogs and comments but hope people will still like it. Also posting this early too because I am an impatient B and going to be busy with work tomorrow again.
Danny looked nervously up at his sister who was giving him an encouraging smile and had placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. His gaze wandered back to the paper in his hands, a face with a confident smile printed largely on it. A cutout from a business magazine Jazz had happened to read.
"It's not too late, we could still just turn around and go back to Amity." Danny muttered, the paper crumpling ever so slightly in his hands. His sister sighed, wishing that her brothers best friends could have come along with them.
"Danny, it will be fine." She told him her hand moved from his shoulder to rub comforting circles on her brother's back. "Let's settle into the hotel first. We have your entire semester vacation to figure out how to continue from there."
"But Jazz, what if we're wrong? Just because I was adopted as a baby and that Ancestry thing I did in middle school contacted us about someone matching up with the DNA I sent there in middle school, it doesn't mean that he is…"
"Danny." Jazz cut in, lightly pushing her brother forward so he would start moving. "You are starting to overthink again."
"But we could be wrong!" Danny insisted once more the paper now completely crumbled in his hands. "This sounds too good to be true! And you know that good things don't just easily happen to me! I know something is going to happen to mess it all up or maybe I will mess it all up and…"
Jazz turned on her brother to make him face her, they had barely managed to step out of the airport before her brother fell into another spiral, one of many he had ever since that Ancestry Agency had contacted them. She cradled her brother's face in her hands making him look at her.
"Danny. When you had that school project about Ancestry in middle school, Mom and Dad admitted to having you adopted as a baby but not your twin brother you already freaked out then. You did that whole DNA thing with the school project as cover in hopes that your brother might have done it too. When nothing came back from it, what did I tell you then?"
"That I was an idiot to do it behind your back?" Jazz pinched her little brother's cheeks with a fond smile.
"Not that, what else did I say?"
"That I will always be your brother no matter what?"
"And?"
"And… and that I shouldn't lose hope because you would help me if I really wanted to meet him."
Jazz changed her hold on her brother from cradling his face to hugging him tightly. "That's right idiot. So if you really want to go back to Amity Park we can easily do that, there is no need for you to panic." She felt her brother nodd into her shoulder. "So do you really want to go back?"
"I guess… I could at least see if all these magazines are telling the truth and if he really is living a good life." Jazz pulled away from her brother now holding him by his shoulders and beamed at him happily. Before leading her brother to the hotel she had booked for them.
Both did not notice that their little exchange had happened in perfect view of a surveillance camera and had gotten caught by someone who had gotten interested in their movements ever since a certain someone had a little freak out in regards to finding someone that shared his DNA.
Later at night on the same day, Danny found himself unable to sleep. Feeling restless he decided to take a look at the night sky's of Gotham in hopes to calm his growing nervousness ever since he arrived in this city. Jazz was sleeping peacefully in the room next to his, so to not disturb her, he changed forms, turned invisible and phased through several ceilings until he reached the roof.
Once there Danny dropped his invisibility as well as transformation and just sat on the roof, not on the edge mind you, but by the door that usually would have led up here doing his best to look as much as a normal civilian trying to enjoy the night sky as possible. He had heard about Batman not wanting any Metas in his city, Phantom probably wouldn't be very welcomed either then.
Danny sat there staring up at the cloudy skies, frowning how with the light pollution and clouds he was unable to see even a single star. He was contemplating the pros and cons about changing form and flying above the cloud level to see the stars when he heard a soft thud not too far from him. Too silent to be picked up by normal hearing but his ghost enchanted one picked it up.
"You are not from Gotham, are you?" Danny tensed at the voice that resounded over the roof. His head turned towards where the voice came from and noticed the figure shadowed by the clouds, glad in red and black colores. "Gothamites know not to be out on roofs at night."
Danny swallowed but didn't move as the figure stepped closer. "You are Red Robin."
"So you know of me?" Danny watched how the other twirled around a bo-staff, if he didn't know better he would have said that the vigilante appeared nervous.
"My best friend kind of told me about the vigilantes of Gotham when he learned that I was going to visit the city." He carefully admitted to Red Robin and Danny wasn't lying Tucker had prepared an entire list about Gotham's vigilantes as well as all the celebrities. Danny was very thankful that he had not mentioned to his best friend that Tim Drake-Wayne might be the twin he had been looking for for years now. That would have been a whole other ordeal he didn't want to deal with yet.
"Got a favorite yet?" The vigilante asked and did Danny imagine it or was his tone weirdly hopeful?
He shrugged as answer, noting how the vigilantes' shoulders appear to drop in disappointment. Though a moment later Red Robin walked a bit closer and crouched, while Danny had yet to move from his sitting position. "So… why are you out on the roof late at night?"
"I was hoping to see the stars."
"The stars?"
"Stargazing always helped me calm down." Danny admitted turning his gaze from the vigilante to the cloudy sky. He didn't take his eyes completely off the other, his shoulders were still tense but for some reasons his body wanted to relax in the other's presence.
"You went up on a roof late at night to calm down?" He eyed the vigilante, wondering why the other was so interested in Danny right now but also wondering if Danny was really going to dumb his whole emotional turmoil on a complete stranger. What would Jazz say if she knew about this? Probably psycho analyze this whole situation and reason that Danny just wanted someone not involved to just listen to him without the objectives Jazz wasn't able to provide.
He eyed the vigilante once more, noting how the other appeared to be just as tense as Danny was, before opening his mouth. "I am only in Gotham because the twin I have been looking for for years lives here."
The vigilante hummed, sounding interested, indicating for Danny to continue. "I don't even know if he knows about me or would even want to see me. For all I know he doesn't even know I exist. Mom and Dad adopted me from the orphanage as a baby but not my twin brother."
Danny started to ramble on not noticing the sharp intake of air Red Robin took. "He may have a perfectly good life! And here I am appearing out of nowhere and possibly destroying it! What if I mess up his whole family dynamic! I mean how crazy is that? A stranger just appears out of nowhere saying he is your twin with no proof other than the stupid mail from an Ancestry DNA Testing facility stating they found a DNA similar to your own? Ancients, this sounds even more stupid when I say it out loud!"
In his rant Danny hadn't noticed Red Robin having come closer and their hand carefully hovering over his shoulder. "Hey…"
He looked up sharply at the vigilante next to him that was now placed on his shoulder, radiating a warmth that felt grounding to Danny. "I am sure it is not as bad as you think it is. If those Ancestry people contacted you, they might have contacted your twin also and who knows he could possibly be very interested in learning more about your whole situation?"
Danny blinked at the vigilante that was apparently trying to give him a reassuring smile despite the upper half of his face being covered by a mask and he couldn't help but return the smile with a small grateful one of his own.
The vigilante looked like he wanted to say something else but Danny's phone suddenly started buzzing, he hurried to pull it out of his pockets noticing several texts from his sister arriving in a rapid fashion.
"My sister." He muttered, looks like Jazz had woken up and tried to check on him like he was still a little child, he smiled fondly at the phone.
Side eyeing the vigilante, both stood up. "I uh…"
"You better hurry back in. She will probably grow more worried the longer you stay up here."
Blinking at the vigilante, Danny nodded, moving towards the door that would lead back into the building while the vigilante started to move towards the edge of the building. Before Danny could try to see if the door was locked or open he turned over his shoulder wanting to voice his thanks to the other for listening to his ranting but found the vigilante gone.
Staring for a moment before shrugging Danny let his eyes wander over the roofs of the other buildings just in case before deciding to forgo his transformation and just phase through the floors invisible without it until he reached his room.
In the shadows on the roof of the building to the side Red Robin arched an eyebrow under his mask before turning to the coms. "Meta status is confirmed. Also Nightwing, think you can help me create the most natural and unsuspicious situation for me to meet him tomorrow? I already have a couple of ideas."
"I think we can work something out easily RR."
"Good."
"It sounded like there was a whole lot more to this twin situation than we originally thought."
"Yea..."
"Chin up Red! We will get to the bottom of this!"
"He likes stargazing..." Red Robin mutter to himself, not really listening to his siblings on the coms. "I will take him to the planetarium, first chance I got."
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glitter-epoch · 1 month
Note
your zayne hand fic was just sooo hot thank you for the food!!! this anon is wondering if you could do a spicy xavier fic as well, with maybe the prompt… darkness or black out? THANK YOU
nsfw, 18+ only, mdni!
OF COURSE. screamed when i saw this in my inbox. thank you for the kind words i’m so glad you like it!!! 
fem!reader | 4.7k words smut under the cut, 18+ ONLY mdni!!! do NOT!!!
. . .
warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, light evol heresy switch xavier if you squint maaaybe. kiiind of.
. . .
you’re stepping out of the shower when the lights go out.
they heave like a car that’s just run out of gas, the wires in the walls giving a pathetic, zappy little hhhh before fizzling out.
you step forward too far, the darkness and the icy air of the mostly granite bathroom startling you. a scream escapes you as you scamper forward, trying not to trip. your fingertips meet smooth stone.
as you grip the sink in the dark, embarrassed by your own outburst, your phone blinks to life on the counter. for a moment, the bathroom is illuminated. fog is receding on the mirror and on your phone’s screen as all of the warm air in the room is sucked out, replaced with wintry breezes that leak in from outside as the heat system in your apartment dies.
shivering, you pick up the phone. it's xavier.
“is your power out?” you sigh, putting him on speaker. he lives one floor above you; maybe his is fine.
“yes. was that you screaming?”
he echoes off the walls. his voice is raspy and fond, the way it always is when-
“were you asleep just now?” you ask. “it’s not even 7 o’clock.”
“yes,” xavier yawns. “it’s winter now, so it gets dark outside early. are you okay?”
“no, i almost broke my legs.” 
xavier pauses, and you realize he’s probably about to ask if you’re serious.
“…do you mean it-“
“no, sorry, i’m just kidding.“
you glance around the bathroom, shaking like a wet dog in a storm. and there is, you realize, a storm outside; rattling the hedges in the courtyard below and splattering the technicolor billboards of linkon beyond. that’s what cut the power.
your clothes are folded on the toilet seat; a soft pair of sweatpants and one of the deepspace hunters’ crewnecks- too big for work, too comfy not to lounge in. but you’re thinking of other things. 
your hair drips water onto the tile like a clock ticking, the neighbor’s wind chimes are casting shadows on the wall, and lighting is striking in the distance.
you swallow an embarrassingly large lump of anxiety in your throat.
“xavier?” you prod. he’s been patiently quiet until now.
“i’m here.”
you almost smile at how sweet he is.
“this is ridiculous, i’m really sorry…”
he waits another patient second more.
“do you want me to come to you?” he asks. 
“please.”
there’s a knock on the door. you flinch, nearly knocking the phone off the counter.
“is that you?” you exclaim.
“i came downstairs when you stopped responding. i’m glad i’m at the right door, though. i can’t see.”
. . .
xaiver comes with a flashlight. “i thought this might make you feel safer.”
he’s wearing the one crewneck- white, with the detailing on the bottom- all that really matters is it looks cozy. he’s clearly brushed his hair since waking up, but it’s already piecing together on his forehead and over his ears like it usually does; silvery-blonde sections looking just as soft as he is. his hair and his palms and the column of his throat seem to shine a little bit, like he’s bioluminescent from the inside. maybe it’s his evol. in truth, you’re probably just imagining it. he’s xavier; everything about him is a little off-kilter and mezmerizing.
he presents the flashlight to you as he shuts your front door behind him and peers around. “wow. it really is dark.” 
his eyes are wide; glossy spheres that catch the slivers of remaining light in your apartment. you try not to stare. 
“thank you,” you grin, a little embarassed. 
flipping the switch on the flashlight is useless; the battery is dead.
in the dim moonlight filtering through your front room’s blinds, you see his porcelain face go a little crooked; he grins and frowns at the same time, lopsided.
“of course,” he hums.
you thank him again anyways (warmed that he thought to bring it) and try to lead him to the closet, feeling along the walls. “i should have candles in the closet.”
xavier follows you, albeit, not close behind, like he’s trying to stay out of sight.
“are you hiding?” you quip, although your heart has started to pump with more effort in your chest. 
“no,” he says from behind you. “i’m trying not to bump into you. you scare easily.” he’s quiet for a moment. “clearly.”
you turn over your shoulder, scowling at his vaguely silver outline. “i do not. quit stalking; just walk with me.”
you’ve been stopped for long enough in the darkest stretch of the hallway that xavier’s on you, then; he bumps into you on accident, a good head-and-a-half taller. his chest and the insides of his biceps are warm as he politely slides two hands up your shoulders and clamps down on them. you suck in a breath and he steadies you.
“see?” he mocks softly. 
xavier removes his right hand from your shoulder but seems to keep the other one in place, like he’s worried you’re going to knock into the wall (you might). he lifts his palm up to you- which is large enough to take up the area of your face- and a golden light blooms from the center line on his skin, extending slowly to his fingers. 
once your face is lit up, the corners of his lips quirk up the tiniest bit; his eyes go soft.
there are only so many things you could say: i’m not jumpy, you touched me. i’m not jumpy, i’m in love with you. 
none would save you any dignity, so you just swallow a shaky breath and complain, “you could’ve done that when you got here.”
“i thought the flashlight would be more thoughtful.”
his frame and his warmth hover beside you like a heat lamp as you walk. he smells good; like soap, and expensive fabric softener, which is ridiculous, because you’re certain if you asked him what fabric softener he used, he would reply, “why would i need that? isn’t fabric already soft?”
you come to the doorknob. “okay. back up.”
he does. the air behind you becomes significantly colder as you pull open the door to the closet.
thunder cracks outside as if its splitting the sky in two. you flinch, yanking on the door, heart in your throat; the vacuum cleaner tips over, falls out, bounces off your head.
“ow,” you hiss, clapping a shaking hand to your forehead. 
xavier returns; his chin near the top of your head as he seems to shield you from the rest of the (unfavorably) dark corridor, sticking his arm into the closet to prevent any other heavy stowed items from landing on you. the light in his palm has gone out. 
“are you okay?” xavier worries, almost certainly suspecting your mood is going to be more bruised than your head.
thunder cracks again in succession, three times, like the beating of some hellish drum. a scream escapes you. you duck, actually duck- and xavier loses you in the dark of the closet. he feels around for a moment until he finds your forearm and pulls gently.
“oh my god,” you pant. “sorry, sorry-”
“you’re really afraid of thunderstorms, aren’t you?” he asks softly; perhaps partially to tease you, but with xavier, it’s hard to tell. he’s so blunt and open-booked that nothing and everything sounds like a judgement when he delivers it.
you nod, unable to do anything else at this point. “apparently.”
“you’re shaking,” he comments- and you are, like a- “you’re like a little dog.”
you scowl at him, having thought it yourself but assumed he would be kind enough not to say it out loud.
“what, like the little rabid white ones with crust around their eyes? how dare you?” you huff, turning your head, but he’s still holding you; one big hand on the small of your back now, warm as a heating pad.
“okay,” xavier sighs, and his grin is audible. “let’s go.”
his hands glow like lanterns all the way to the den.
. . . 
you wake up and even the moon has darkened.
storm clouds form a thick and heavy blanket over the sky, snuffing out any light from the cosmos. the den and even your distant kitchen are completely dark, the furniture forming only the vaguest lines in your sight. there are lines on your face, almost certainly, you think; forcing your head and neck up like a cobra, your torso and the front of your thighs glued to something warm and mostly solid. you press your fingers to your face and find indents in your cheek and across your eyelid from where your face was smushed into whatever is beneath you.
xavier. it’s xavier. 
his face is perfectly serene, the smooth and pearlescent slopes of his cheeks and browbones perfectly still and almost visible in the dark. but his lips aren’t parted and his arms are slightly stiff; if he’s asleep, it’s only partially. 
you flinch, just barely, shocked at his presence there more than anything. it comes back to you in small blinks; yes, you had laid down with him, he’d insisted. no it’s not weird. of course i don’t mind. it’s a little ridiculous for you to act like you’ve never fallen asleep on me before (true). and at some point, you’d both wriggled into this position; with your entire body draped over him, blanket on the floor, both of you hot as irons. 
in his light-sleep, xavier seems to feel you jolt. one hand comes to the back of your head and pulls you down, depositing your face into the crook of his shoulder. he’s laying on his back, fitted perfectly into the corner of the sofa; he’s all encompassing.
“no,” xavier demands, albeit gently. “go back to sleep.”
his voice vibrates against your cheek. you’re tired, sluggish, your limbs are heavy; but your heart thumps in your chest, something almost like panic rising in your throat. certainly he knows what this looks like, knows how it feels- you’re completely twisted around each other.
“xavier,” you argue.
“you were happy,” he rasps, lifting his arms up. he wraps them completely around your head, sealing you in. the weight of his biceps are heavy on you; you knew he was strong, obviously, but he really is…strong. his chest is carved beneath you. “you were happy when you were asleep. so do it again.”
“you just want to go back to sleep,” is your reply.
xavier shifts, and one hand drifts down to the middle of your back. he pulls you into him and squeezes, like he’s stretching. you inhale deeply as your face drifts closer to his collarbones, exposed as his sweatshirt is pulled in every direction by your sprawling weight. your mouth falls open as he holds you, deliberately tight, now; you’re sure of it. he’s practically using you like a stress-ball.
he feels your breath on his neck and his eyes flutter open slowly, fingers twitching to a stop.
“what are you doing?” he chirps.
you could smack him. “what are you doing?”
the thunder returns before anyone can answer, like it senses you’re awake. xavier responds instantly, plucking a fallen blanket off the ground and draping it over both of your heads. in breaths, you’re locked into one another; in a world under the quilt. 
you peer up at him in the complete blackness, feeling his breath on your nose.
“better?” xavier asks.
the sound is surprisingly resonant; he’s ridiculously close.
you feel around his chest and arms, trying to find his head. he inhales, choppily, but doesn’t stop you.
“you are doing something…” he murmurs. his body responds to you, shoulders rising slightly as your fingers dance over them.
“i’m just trying to find your face,” you retort (doing something).
xavier takes your hand and presses it to his cheek. “here.”
you gulp. what are you supposed to do now?
it’s quiet for a moment, rain ricocheting gently off the windows of your apartment. the thunder is distant for a few breaths, rolling far away but seemingly making its way back, like engineered waves slowly picking up speed in a wave pool.
xavier’s heart is always slow, so slow that it sometimes worries you. but his breath is not; the movement of his hands is fast. if he’s not nervous- he’s at least worked up.
thunder cracks. before you can jump or blink or even breathe, he pulls the blanket even further over your heads and reaches for the small of your back, dragging your body up until the top of your head presses into his chin.
you let him, allowing your head to drop onto his chest, unsure of what else to do and not quite able to think of anything else to do as his hands roam around under your sweatshirt; exploring the slopes and ridges of your back and spine.
“your heartbeat is so fast,” xavier murmurs, but his voice is far-away, too; his hands are greedy as he searches for something on the plane of your skin- knots, nerves. soft things, for himself. “you aren’t this afraid of a storm.”
“no,” you cave, essentially coming clean. “what are you trying to do?”
he stills, hands still under your shirt. “are you uncomfortable?”
“no,” you blurt. “no.”
you’re almost certain he smiles; his breath is soft and quiet for a moment. “then can i keep going?”
you pause, nervous. “keep going with what?”
his chest is suspended for a moment. he doesn’t answer. 
in the silence, you’re just barely emboldened enough to whisper it, though you’re not entirely sure what his plan is: “keep going.”
the storm seems to be on his side as a low, rumbling roll of thunder passes by your window, lightning following- for the shortest second, you can see his face; lips swollen with sleep, and parted, his eyes closed. 
your trembling returns for a myriad of reasons. this propels xavier to wrap an arm around your waist and sit up, taking you with him; your knees are forced to bend, thighs spread out on either side of him. you straddle his lap, the blanket slipping off your head.
xavier’s eyes flutter open slowly, ever sleepy. his hair splays around him, lighter than the rest of the room. his expression is almost a smile, dazed and determined, and his eyes seem to light up as they rove over the mere outline of your face in the dark. “i’ll distract you,” he says, sliding his palms onto your knees.
he waits, hands heavy. 
“what are you…” you begin.
oh. he wants you to sit.
you do; he’s hard under you, and he inhales. 
“xavier…” you whisper, uncertain not of your own desire, but his. “i didn’t think you…you never-”
“i never what?” he says, swiping your hair off one side of your neck. “your hair is still wet.” his fingers tangle in the damp strands at the top of your spine, roving up to the top of your head. “are you cold?”
“n-no,” you manage. 
xavier leans forward, his lips close to your neck- then he stops, looks up at you. his eyes are practically the only things visible in the room; but he seems to be able to see you quite well.
“can you see in the dark, or something?” you pant. he doesn’t answer. instead:
“you want me,” he remarks, quiet. 
“you want me,” you retort, instantly defensive; this doesn’t feel real.
xavier- tall and lithe and hard under you, clawing to keep you close to him- blushes still, his cheeks almost red. he smiles, almost, pupils as big as saucers.
“you do want me,” he answers for you, nodding as his lips latch onto your neck.
it’s a ploy. you inhale, stretching your back for him; so naturally, his hands drift to lift up your sweatshirt, then glide up your waist, up to your ribs. he swipes his thumbs over the skin there, and gasps slightly when he finds nothing there; no bra under your hoodie.
“i’m sorry,” you whisper, for no real reason, but you’re not thinking straight. 
xavier doesn’t even ordain you with a response to something so stupid. he just reaches higher, palms your breasts, both of you inhaling as your nipples pebble under him. 
“i can see you,” xavier whispers, his lips on the shell of your ear. “i can see far in the dark. but you can barely see anything…”
you feel feverish; hot and dizzy and unable to take a full breath and xavier pushes your sweatshirt up to you neck, urging you to slip it off.
“do you want to?” he asks, breathless.
you’re the one who ignores a stupid comment this time, slipping off the hoodie. wet strands of hair fall over your shoulders and face, tangling over xavier’s fingers and dangling in front of his eyes. 
he stares at you through the dark, eyes languidly darting all over your naked body; like he doesn’t know what to do first, like he’s astonished that you’re something he’s really looking at.
xavier looks up at you, practically drooling. “is this still okay?”
“are you kidding me?”
he responds with something low, a primal and somehow still grateful sound from the back of his throat, and leans forward to catch your breasts with his mouth. his teeth graze over your nipple, his lips finding it a moment later; it slips in and out of his mouth, slick from the wetness of his mouth.
you inhale to hide a moan, sinking lower into his lap; grinding over his length unintentionally. xavier’s mouth drops off of you, and he inhales deeply; trying to get back to you, to keep working at your breasts, but he can’t.
“d-don’t,” he murmurs, “don’t.”
you wonder if you’ve really made him uncomfortable. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean-”
“it’s not you,” he replies. “i can’t- if you keep-”
you inhale, body barely moving, and even this is too much for him. xavier completely leans back from you and tears his own shirt off; light hair splaying around his head as the shirt lands on the floor. he pushes you back slightly, until your thighs are resting on his thighs, away from his lap.
he tugs at the waistband of your sweatpants. “do you want to keep these on?”
and he’s sincere, waiting for you so patiently, despite the slack in his jaw and the glaze over his eyes. you come onto your knees, sitting up enough to push the pants down to your shins; he reaches behind you and pulls them all the way off.
he takes you in again, in nothing but your panties, like he isn’t sure if he’s really awake- despite being the one to instigate this encounter in the first place.
instigator, you think. it’s the perfect term to describe him. 
after a moment of polite gawking, he pulls on your waist like a handlebar; drags you back to him so you’re sitting with your thighs spread and balanced on either heel. as evil as he secretly is, he watches you as he brings his fingers to your panties; running his knuckles along the clothed surface of your core before pulling the fabric aside.
you gasp; one hand covering your mouth. he smiles sweetly. thunder follows.
“see?” he says, pawing innocently at your folds before running the back of his hand over the bundle of nerves there; quick to drag them slowly down again, and up again, over and over. “you needed something to distract you.”
you’re looking down, trying to see what’s happening; his face is somewhat visible, as it has been, but his hands and your thighs are not. 
xavier tests one finger at the base of your cunt; to see what you’ll do, how wet you are. his mouth falls open.
“oh…”
you’re not sure if he’s making fun of you or if he’s just shocked; but more likely than not, it’s the latter, because his eyes are big as dimes when he looks up at you, reclined against the arm of the sofa, with you on top of him.
you’re trying to remember when you got into such a compromising position. 
“can i?” he amends himself. “do you want me to?”
you almost can’t answer, so you nod, and a moment later, manage, “yes, p-please.”
‘please’ seems to set him off. his middle finger slips inside of you easily, meeting no friction. at first, you try to watch; feeling his wrist moving up and down as he pumps inside of you. then he adds a second finger and you don’t even try to look anymore, letting your head fall back.
you feel his eyes on you as you do this, pressure building in your lower belly. 
“does this feel good?” he asks, all sincerity.
“s-so good.”
“look,” he whispers.
there’s a warmth in you before you do, but even then, you can’t guess what you’re about to see- a light, faintly glowing, illuminating the thin flesh around your pelvic bones and fading out over your navel. his hand, inside you; glowing.
“xavier!” you scold. 
for a moment, he changes nothing; he watches the light wax and wane as his fingers move inside you, and you watch it, too- despite your immense humiliation- both of your mouths hung open. you aren’t sure if you’re about to curl in on yourself from embarassment or pleasure, but xavier must see the strangled expression on your face, because the light goes out.
“you get embarassed so easily,” xavier remarks, leaning forward with one hand still inside you. he uses the other to brush your damp hair out of your face, and runs the pad of his thumb over the lines on your cheeks and eyelid; places where your face was smushed into his sweater. “look at me. do you see me?” 
“k-kind of.”
he smiles, movements never slowing. you squirm in his lap, vying for more despite his steady pace. 
“i think about you,” xavier murmurs into your neck. “everyday. all the time. there’s nothing you could do that i wouldn’t want you for. don’t you see?”
you nod, emboldened by his words, thinking that you should thank him but too busy thinking about other, more immediate things.
as you’re squirming in his lap, you push forward, finally; sit on the hard length of his cock. his fingrers curl inside you and you whine.
xavier hisses and exhales. he looks up at you; the marble of his eyes shining in the dark.
“do you…” you pant, struggle. “do you want to…”
xavier nods. he keeps nodding, at first, and doesn’t even say anything- he sits up to wrap and arm around your waist and he’s still nodding. then:
“yes,” he murmurs into your ear. “i didn’t-”
you grind onto him again. his fingers leave you, steadying himself with that now unoccupied hand. 
“…w-want- god- please, don’t…”
so you wait, feeling guilty again, but of course, he doesn’t mean do nothing- you realize moments later, he’s just begging you to slow down.
“i didn’t want to ask,” xavier continues throatily, gently lifting you off of him to roll down the waistband of his own sweatpants. “i didn’t want you to think i’d be disappointed if you said no.”
you smile at him, sick at how sweet he is. “i want to. please.”
he’s kissing you as he finally kicks off his sweatpants- you feel him buck his hips up as only his underwear remains. maybe, if you could see anything, you would have lingered in this moment a little longer. but you’re barely any help as he kicks those off, too; uses his own strength to hold your hips in the air over him, not setting you down.
“are you sure?” xavier pants.
“i am extremely sure.”
he inhales shakily and leans forward to press you to his chest, adjusting himself under you; then he sets you down, lowers you onto his cock. 
both of you gasp; you inhale so sharply it stings. you can’t see him, can’t see anything but his blown-out pupils- but you’re full, completely, as he takes your hips in his hands and asks:
“are you tired?”
his voice is trembling, but not desperate; he’s trying not to buck up into you, you’re sure. 
you can’t lie, so all you do is nod. your entire body buzzes, your head swims; you are exhausted, but you do want him.
xavier nods, pressing a kiss to the plane between your breasts. “that’s okay. just relax.”
and he is ridiculous for saying this, because then, he begins to move you himself; sliding you up an down on his length, slowly and gracefully at first- until you moan over him, and he seems to crack, bouncing you up and down to his liking.
“x-xavier…” you whine, but he’s relentless. 
your hands landing on his chest as you droop forward only egg him on. he presses one hand flat to your back, forcing you to collapse onto him, then goes back to moving your hips. he’s pounding into you, his breath and his voice strangled and fast in your ear, but his heart still beats slowly in his chest- the rhythm of it is intoxicating to you. you listen, one ear pressed into the space between his collarbones: 1…2…3…
you realize, now, that the slow heartbeat is just what’s providing his inhuman stamina: he’s anything but calm. 
“you don’t know…” xavier murmurs, rocking in and out of you, sounding very far away. “you don’t even know…”
“know what?” you manage. 
“how much i think about you. how much i want you- you don’t…”
he sits up suddenly, your head draping over his shoulder, and continues to move you up and down; hot inside you. your legs are practically numb. the coil in your stomach tightens and releases, threatening to unfurl; you’re not sure how long it’s been. your head falls back and xavier catches it, pausing to press kisses to the column of your throat. you squirm, now settled onto his lap again; cock still inside you. 
xavier grabs your hips and seems to be restraining himself from holding you still.
“if you do that, i can’t- i’ll-”
you know what he’s going to say, so you keep doing it. xavier latches on to your neck with his mouth as you grind on top of him, exhausted, but it’s enough. one of his arms is still looped around your waist, squeezing the flesh of your hip. the other draws tracks through your hair, and stops to grab a fistful at the top of your head; you moan, but he doesn’t release you- clearly not knowing his own strength, how tightly he’s gripping you. 
that’s it for you; the sensation low in your belly blooms as his cock twitches inside you.
he bites down on your shoulder when he cums. not nearly hard enough to hurt (he would never), but it’s so unbridled and unexpected that you come undone on top of him moments later; allowing him to squeeze you to him and pull you both back to lay flat on the sofa.
for a moment, there is only quiet rain and heavy breathing. xavier lifts his hand to pluck the hair out of your face again, running his fingers over those same lines on your cheeks that he must be able to see through the dark- how unfair, it is, that he’s been able to see practically the whole time, and you’ve been nearly blind.
a clap of thunder bursts somewhere in the distance. you’re busy panting, pawing around for xavier’s face in the dark.
“see? you’re not even thinking about the thunder anymore,” he breathes. “you must have had a good distraction.” and then, both endeared and confused, he asks, “what are you looking for?”
“i’m trying to find your head so i can smack you.”
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fuxuannie · 1 year
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i lobe ur writing style sm its so comforting!
can i req a ‘things hsr men do when they have a crush on you’ ^^ (like some would outright flirt and others would be super flustered etc.)
* pairing(s) : various (4) hsr men x gender neutral reader
* prompt : request
* authors note : banabsmwns THANK YOU ALL FOR 700!!! the support really makes me so giddy and very happy n i hope i continue to make content you all enjoy ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و i'm gonna lay off uploading as often as i used to, but It's not complete radio silence! i just wanna try and write when i want to, and not force myself. ♡
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DAN HENG is VEEERY very nervous around you when he's realized his feelings towards you were romantic. He tries to flirt, (he tried to do the 'pinning you to the wall' thing but he backed out the second his hand made contact with the wall and you couldnt find him for a week) but is painfully bad at it.
You smile and his heart is doing BACKFLIPS, he has to clear his throat, turn around and hang his head down low just to fail and hide the pretty shade of red on his cheeks.
He's so easily flustered by anything you do, that man is crazy inlove that Caelus starts calling him delusional for thinking how yours and his hands briefly brushed over each other meant you may or may not reciprocate his feelings.
He likes to talk about you to March and Caeulus a lot, (they're sick and tired of him) but they're just happy you can bring that kind of smile to his face. The absolute adoration in his eyes and the fondness in his smile as he talks about you, who wouldn't be happy for their friend if they looked like that? Even if they're tired of him talking about eye contact wih you for 3 hours, he's happy and you make him happy. That's all they ever want for him.
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JING YUAN is subtle, and tries to be cool when it comes to his crush for you. However, he trips on his words whenever you playfully tease back or anything of the such. He even makes stupid corny jokes that aren't that funny but are so bad you can't help but laugh.
His busy schedule does make trying to make time to see you much harder. Unless you work within his organization, he'll barely get to have a conversation longer than 3 minutes. So whenever he does see you during his non-work hours, he'll try to a lot of time with you to make up for the times that he couldn't be by your side.
He's pretty subtle with his flirting, offering to lock arms as you tour Luofu so that 'he can keep you close and won't lose you' and purely out of respect. He's probably really poetic with his teasing or flirting too, comparing your beauty to Aeons.
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It's pretty much obvious that GEPARD gets nervous around you, but he's so adorable your heart cannot handle it. You loved to squeeze his cheeks whenever he's flustered, making it impossible to look away and leaving you to giggle at how he mutters how embarrassed he felt.
You're already well aware of his crush on you, (not that he was good at hiding it) but you just needed to be ready. You loved him back with your whole heart, but you just needed time, and Gepard could wait.
He even gained your guardians approval, that on the day you were ready, they would give him his blessing. They knew Gepard was a man with a pure heart, one that was ready to love you with the love you deserved.
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CAELUS had grown fond of you, but his crush on you was surprisingly soft. He wanted to protect you, and with what he was capable of, he loved to do it. Your praise in his ears is like music, he could never get tired of taking care of you and it's almost like a love language.
He has such a sweet smile when he looks or thinks of you, something about you makes his heart melt, kick his feet and twirl his hair like a school girl or something. (this is a joke)
Spending time with him usually consists of you doing whatever you want, and Caelus following you like a lost duckling. He likes it when you grab his hand, and drag him wherever. You might be rambling about something, but his only focus is the way you and him intertwined fingers and how soft your hand felt in his.
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taglist : @renalord @calxb-do @veezablog
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