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whoisjaylamm · 2 years
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Only fourteen hours before two elderly memberberries heard the news: “Member Pantera?” “Sure, I ‘member.” “Member Cowboys From Hell?” “Oooo, I ‘member dat.”
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smokedoutbear · 3 months
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Watch "Hellbound" on YouTube
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kcowart369 · 1 year
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Finished my sketch of my main Halloween illustration. This features my OCs Kenji and Emily as Dimitri and Morrigan from Darkstalkers! I'm going to work more on this later on today so I can post this on Halloween Day!
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describe-things · 4 months
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Making this its own post to further spread the correct information.
The name Mickey Mouse is Public Domain.
Trademark is a separate thing from copyright. Trademark means you can't trick people into thinking your version of Mickey Mouse is sanctioned by Disney.
You do not need to rename Mickey Mouse to use this character.
He's literally named in the title card (along with two alternate outfits for him and Minnie that are also Public Domain, which means, yes! You can give him gloves!).
The only way the name "Mickey Mouse" would still be copyrighted would be if he hadn't been named yet in Steamboat Willie, which very clearly isn't the case, because his name is the largest thing on the title card:
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[ID: A screenshot from the Web Archive’s video player showing the video paused at 00:04, showing the title card that reads:
“Disney Cartoons presents A Mickey Mouse sound cartoon: Steambie Willie, A Walt Disney comic by UB Iwerks, recorded by Cinephone system, copyright MCMXXVIII”.
On either side of the text are Mickey and Minnie, smiling at eachother. Mickey is holding up a hat in one hand, and a cane in the other with a wide grin of greeting. He has a white face, a buck tooth in his open mouth, white gloves, and light grey shoes and shorts, with the shorts having dark buttons and darker vertical stripes. Minnie has her hands clasped as she smiles at Mickey with lowered eyelids in a flirting pose. She has the same hat as mickey, with a flower stick behind it. She has two circles on her chest like a bra or bow, with a polkadot skirt with a wavy edge. She is wearing light grey heels. End ID.]
There is also a public domain poster with color, which means this design is also Public Domain. And again, this one also names him Mickey Mouse -- making the name Mickey Mouse Public Domain! And this alone would have made the name Public Domain even if he hadn't been named in Steamboat Willie! And, he again has gloves!
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[ID: A color poster reading, "Celebrity Productions Inc. Present a Mickey Mouse Sound Cartoon. A Walt Disney comic drawn by UB Iwerks. The World's Funniest cartoon character, a sensation in sound and synchrony.". Mickey is drawn with one hand on his hip and the other in the air. He is wearing yellow gloves with a button in the center of the palm, red pants with white buttons, and large brown boots. He has a red blush on his nose and cheek. His tongue is red, and his black pupils have a white triangle on the side. The background is pale tan. End ID.]
There is also literally nothing stopping anyone from giving any of these characters new color designs with entirely new outfits. That's what the Public Domain is for. Don't think you can only use these characters in black and white, you just can't use versions that Disney still owns the copyright to.
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mammonsrockstargf · 16 days
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It starts small. You honestly don't think much of it. Crows begin leaving you gifts in your window frame. It's pretty rocks. It's a small screw. It's coins and grimm, it's a button from a shirt, it's shiny beads.
You bring it up to Mammon randomly one day. He stares at you wide-eyed. "What, you mean crowns leave ya gifts? Sound ridiculous," he says and you shrug.
"I mean, I've heard about crows leaving gifts for humans before. It's not that unusual, but usually, the humans give something to the crows in return," you say, thinking aloud. "That's the part that confuses me. I haven't given anything to the crows, so why do they like me so much?" Mammon's cheeks are bright red by now, the blush going all the way down his neck. Your brows furrow with concern.
"Hey, are you okay?" you ask and he nods quickly. "Yeah, 'm fine, gotta-go-see-ya! " he stutters and quickly leaves you, practically running away. You look after him in confusion. Weren't you both just supposed to be headed home?
The gifts continue. You get a single earring. At one point you get a small bone and at another time you get a tooth which leaves you a bit unsettled but also intrigued. You treasure every single gift, keeping it in a small box by your desk. You begin to leave the crows gifts in return. You find that they like peanuts and berries. One time you experimentally leave a big piece of watermelon, only to find it devoured within minutes.
The next day there's a pretty locket with what looks like a flower engraved in it. You gape at the locket and instantly put it on, proudly wearing it around your neck. You make sure to leave the crows a feast that day.
Satan is the first brother to notice it when it slips out from the collar of your uniform one day. "Is that new?" he asks. "Oh yeah, I've befriended a bunch of crows." Satan stops in his tracks and stares at you.
"You've befriended crows?" He repeats and you nod. "Yes. Why is everyone so weird about this?" A knowing smile creeps onto his face and he shakes his head.
"Why do you think the crows like you so much?" he asks. You hum, considering it for a second. Eventually, you have to draw a blank and look at Satan in defeat. His smile only grows wider.
"Ask Mammon. He might know."
You find Mammon in his room, lying in his bed. He smiles when he sees you and pats the bed, motioning you to come over. "Come here," he says and you do, lying down next to him. He huffs and pulls at you so you're lying on his chest. You can feel his heart beating and you look up at him through your lashes.
"Hey, Mamms," you say and he runs his hand down your back, rubbing circles into it. "Hey, treasure," he says and grins.
"Satan says you might know the cause of my new friendships." His cheeks turn crimson in an instant and he lets out something akin to a nervous laugh. "Oh, the crows, you mean?" you huff and playfully roll your eyes. "Come on, big guy, spill the beans," you say and Mammon sighs.
"So, the crows like you, because, well, I told them about you," he says and a grin spreads across your face. "Go on," you say.
"Okay, I have crow familiars, you know what a familiar is, right?" he says and looks at you expectantly. You rake your brain, remembering briefly having about it in one of your classes. "Yeah, it's like witches with black cats, right?" you say and Mammon hums.
"Yeah, kind of, but anyone can have a familiar and it can be any animal. The whole black cat thing is just something the catholic church made up." You nod in understanding while Mammon continues to rub patterns into your back. The beating of his heart seems to have become louder underneath you. "So what you're saying is you can't shut up about how awesome I am and now a bunch of crows are obsessed with me?" you say and Mammon hides his face in his hands. You giggle and pry his hands away, smiling at him adoringly.
"Please don't make fun of me," he huffs and you pout at his antics. "I could never tease my lovely little bird boy," you coo and Mammon groans while pushing you off him. He turns his back to you and you laugh manically. "Come on, Mamms, It's cute," you say and press soft kisses to the nape of his neck. "you're cute," you say and throw an arm and a leg over him, attempting to spoon him. You feel him instantly melting to your touch, completely unable to keep his resolve. It's almost too easy when he turns around again to face you. You smile at his pink face.
"I really like the gifts the crows gave me," you reassure him because you genuinely do. It's become something you look forward to when you open your window.
"You do?"
"Yeah, absolutely," you affirm and he smiles sheepishly. "I once tried to train them to steal money for me, but it didn't work."
a/n: thanks for reading! find my other stuff here <3
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lovebugism · 1 month
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hi! reader doesn’t like kids at all, but somehow eddie’s child is just different and the cutest sweetest child who warms their heart
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✶ ┄ MAYDAY ! [ the beginning ]
summary: when steve harrington brings you as a plus-one to a munson birthday party, he forgets to tell you it's for eddie's four-year-old, maeve. (1.8k)
pairing: dad!eddie munson / f!reader
tags: strangers to lovers (eventually), slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love, meet ugly-ish, fluff, girl dad eddie munson™, r is not used to being around kids (and it shows), baby blurb turned spin-off universe <3
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When Steve Harrington invites you to a birthday party, he fails to mention it’s for a four-year-old. 
The tiny trailer is decked out in decoration. A fusion of black and rainbow, of bats and unicorns, of vampires and Tickle Me Elmo — like no one could land on a singular theme. 
Steve guides you into the home with a golden hand on the small of your back, his other clutching a sparkly black bag with Count von Count’s face on it. You stop very suddenly in your tracks. Happy 4th Birthday, Maeve! reads a handpainted sign draped beneath the ceiling.
You become very hyperaware of the whiskey bottle in your right hand, something you figured would be the most sufficient thing to gift someone you’d never met before. You just hadn’t expected the stranger to be a child.
“What the fuck, Steve?” you bite under your breath, glaring at the boy beside you. “I thought you said this was your friend’s birthday party?”
“Maeve is my friend,” he answers with a stupid shrug. “Though, to be fair, I did say it was my friend’s kid’s birthday party.”
He most definitely hadn’t.
“What the hell— I brought booze!”
“That’s okay,” assures a wild-haired boy with a pretty pink grin as he walks up to the two of you. The friend in question. 
Eddie Munson wears a silver ring on each finger and a thick leather jacket despite the warming spring season. His laughter sounds like sunshine. His smile is bright enough to give you a goddamn sunburn.
“Maeve’s been getting presents all day— It’s about time someone got somethin’ for me,” he jokes.
You grimace while the two boys laugh. “Sorry…” you murmur as you pass him the bottle, shrinking inside yourself in an attempt to hide from the moment. I’m never letting Steve convince me to leave the house again, you think to yourself.
Eddie shrugs. “Don’t worry about it. Seriously. I’ll go stick this in the kitchen— Make yourself at home.”
Your racing heart quells only slightly. He must be more of a good guy than Steve made him out to be, if he’s willing to keep you around after you brought booze to his daughter’s party. Though, you’ll contend that you were only half at fault for this.
Steve bites back a chuckle as he walks you to the back door, standing with you on the little wooden deck lined with sparkly streamers. There’s a picnic table off in the distance, covered in a bat-patterned cloth and set with Sesame Street-themed utensils. A small crowd of teenagers gather around it, and a couple of their parents, you figure.
The spring breeze only half soothes your burning skin.
“See?” he lilts, trying not to laugh and failing. “He likes you already—”
You swat his chest with a less than kind hand. 
“Ow!”
“I’m gonna fucking kill you, Harrington, I swear to—”
“What’s your favorite animal?” a tiny voice asks from behind you, a smidge too loud and confusing their R’s with W’s.
You look over your shoulder, face flooded with horror. A kid with wild chocolate hair stands at less than half your height, wearing the tiniest Ozzy Osbourne shirt you’ve ever seen beneath a rainbow tutu. You don’t know what to say, so you just blink at it for a moment — at her.
“Hey, Maeve,” Steve greets with a curt wave.
The girl beams, missing her very front tooth. “Hi, Uncle Steve!”
“Wha— Huh?” you stammer mindlessly. ‘Cause you’re not exactly the best at talking to people your own age, let alone to children. They’re too honest. And too loud. And beyond still feeling like a kid yourself most days, you don’t have anything in common with them.
“What’s your favorite animal?” Maeve repeats in the same inflection, smiling until a dimple appears in her freckled cheek. “Mine’s a Hefflelump.”
“Hef… Hefflelump?” you echo quietly, only vaguely registering Steve’s laughter as he disappears through the screeching screen door, leaving you all alone. You’re definitely killing him for this.
“Yeah… From Winne the Pooh!” she says like it’s obvious.
“Oh… Okay…”
“What’s yours?”
You stumble over your words to find an answer. “Um… Uh… I don’t— I don’t know…”
“Everyone has a favorite animal,” she scoffs like some kinda critic with a speech impediment. She tilts her chin to her chest and peers up at you with a pair of doe eyes, so brown they’re almost black. You shift your weight on your feet, visibly uncomfortable beneath her unwavering stare.
“Maybe like a… A blobfish, or something?” you shrug.
Her tiny face screws in disgust. “Gross,” she spits.
You flinch. “What? Why is that gross?” you retort, crossing your arms over your chest, more defensive than you’d like to admit.
“They’re so ugly,” Maeve giggles.
“Why?” you squint. “‘Cause they look differently than we do?”
“No!” she laughs, loud and golden, just like her father. “’S ‘cause they’re so slimy.”
“Well— You— You’re slimy,” you stammer.
The wild-haired girl grins with all her baby teeth (well, besides the front one, anyway). “You’re slimy!” she echoes with a mischievous twinkle in her chocolate eyes.
The screen door squeals open again, the rusted hinges screeching in protest. “Who’s slimy?” a male voice questions from behind you, a smile audible in his voice.
“You are!” you and Maeve chorus at the same time. 
You whip your head around a second too late. Your heart drops to your ass when you find Eddie lingering in the doorway behind you. You stumble over your words while Maeve giggles. “Sorry! I thought— I thought you were Steve! I’m so sorry!”
A chuckle sputters from Eddie’s mouth. He’s nearly as grieved by it all as you are. “He just left,” he tells you with a lopsided smile, cocking his thumb over his shoulder. “I think he’s helping Wayne out front. They’re putting together Maeve’s d-o-l-l-h-o-u-s-e.”
His eyes flit upward as he tries hard to spell the word correctly. Upon your confused look, he says, “I can’t say it, or she’ll know what I’m talking about.”
“Right,” you nod.
Eddie crouches and holds his arms out for his daughter. Maeve’s tiny feet patter against the wooden deck as she rushes to him. He huffs at the weight of her — heavier than he remembers and getting bigger every day (which is weird ‘cause she was a newborn, like, a week ago). He grunts when he picks her up, propping her weight on his side.
“What were the two of you talkin’ about, then?”
“Blobfish!” she shouts with a beam.
Eddie breathes out a faint chuckle and turns to you. “She’s forcin’ you to pick a favorite animal, huh?” he wonders, then laughs a bit louder when you nod. “Yeah, she’s been doing that all day. It’s her new thing,” he says, nuzzling the tip of his nose into her curls. 
Realization seems to him then, and his brows furrow when he looks at you. His face, all twisted in confusion, is an exact replica of Maeve’s. 
“Wait— Your favorite animal is a blobfish?”
“That’s what I said!” the girl laughs.
You shift your weight on your feet and cross your arms over your chest. “I’m… feeling very judged in this moment…” you murmur under your breath, only half joking.
“I think that’s the most creative answer we’ve had yet, huh, Mae?” Eddie chuckles.
You scoff. “Well, I think Hefflelump’s pretty creative considering—”
The boy clears his throat, seeming to sense the rest of your sentence. His eyes widen in a lighthearted glare before he nods to the girl on his hip. Only then do you realize the words sitting on the tip of your tongue. You swallow them down immediately.
“Right…” you nod instead. “Nevermind…”
“Here—” Eddie huffs as he sets the girl down again. “—Go find Aunt Robin, alright? She’s probably decorating your cake as we speak.”
Maeve rushes off at the word cake, tottering on lanky, ungraceful legs. The two of you watch her go and linger in an awkward silence. Neither of you is quite sure how to make conversation without her there. You decide to start with an apology.
“I’m, uh, I’m sorry, by the way. Again,” you laugh awkwardly at yourself, scratching at the back of your neck. “I’m not… I’m not really… great with kids. If you couldn’t already tell.”
Eddie grins, pink and lopsided and pretty. You don’t feel deserving of the warmth swimming in his button eyes, glimmering beneath an early setting sun. “It’s okay. Seriously. You should’ve seen Robin and Steve the first time they met her— they were hopeless. And now they’re… Sort of alright, I guess.”
You force a faint chuckle. “Yeah, I’m— I’m just not used to being around them, I guess. I don’t even think I’ve talked to a kid her age since, like, elementary school.”
“I was the same way. ’Til I had Maeve and all…”
“Well, I couldn’t tell,” you assure him with a wavering smile. “You’re, like, a total pro. You’re great with her.”
He ducks his head to hide his blushing cheeks. The apples of them speckle warm and pink beneath the weight of your compliment. 
“Well… thank you,” he says, deflecting from your praise with that stupid, posh, D&D accent he always uses when he gets nervous. You don’t notice him grimacing at himself because you’re still stewing in your own embarrassment.
“And sorry for the booze, too. I seriously didn’t mean to bring— I mean, Steve didn’t even tell me that—”
“Stop apologizing,” Eddie chuckles warmly. “That part’s not your fault, alright? I don’t know if you know this or not, but your boyfriend’s a total idiot.”
Your face screws up. “Oh, he’s not— Steve’s not my boyfriend.”
The boy’s smile ebbs. “No?”
“No. No way!” you laugh before you mean to. “I’m pretty sure I’m just, like, his replacement best friend since Robin started dating Vickie.” 
Wide-eyed and distantly relieved, Eddie stammers like a teenage boy. “Oh. Right. That’s… That’s cool. Yeah.”
“Yeah…” you echo.
“Well, uh— I’m gonna see if Wayne wants any help,” he blurts despite knowing he’s been barred from doing handy work since he nearly drove a nail through his own finger. He just needs a way out, lest he keep stumbling over himself and lose all of his cool points with you. 
He saunters backward through the opened door and nearly trips over the frame.
You bite back a laugh. He forces a wavering smile. 
“But, um, I was thinkin’ about cracking open that bottle you brought. You know, after Maeve’s in bed and everything. If you— If you wanna hang around that long…”
The silence makes him as nervous as a teenage boy, all writhing and uncomfy in his skin. You nod in agreement, and his sparkling chest swells all over again. “Yeah,” you reply, lip quirked in a poorly hidden smile. “Sure. I’d— I’d like that…”
He smiles, all proud of himself. “Good. That’s… That’s good,” he stutters, then swallows hard and scurries off before you change your mind. 
Before he shuts the squealing screen door behind him, you hear Robin’s voice exclaim loudly from the kitchen. “What the hell’s a blobfish?!”
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if u have any other ideas for hijinks these two idiots (and maeve) can get into, feel free to leave 'em here! (⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)
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candlewaxandp0lar0ids · 5 months
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hoodie season || Chan x Reader
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Summary: You're not stealing Chan's hoodies. He's not happy about it.
Word count: 1.4k
Warnings & Tags: Tooth-rutting fluff, established relationship, that should be it.
A/N: Wrote a silly lil one-shot for an idea I got tonight! This was literally written in under two hours, so, uh, I hope you enjoy it as much as I did lol and I apologize for any typos.
Reblogs, feedback and comments are welcome and encouraged!
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It starts, without you being aware of it, on a July evening. You and Chan have only been dating for a couple weeks then, and you feel like you’re on cloud nine. For the better half of the night, which you’re spending with his friend group, you’re in his arms, your back against his chest, his chin comfortably resting on your shoulder. Changbin and Jisung tease him about it, but he shrugs it off like it means nothing. He’s got you now, and he likes showing you off, so why wouldn’t he?
It does take you aback when he lets go of you and the cold hits you. It was hot outside all day, and you hadn’t realized that the temperature had dropped by this much. A shiver shakes you to your core, which Chan doesn’t miss, even if he’s being called away to play the guitar.
“You want my hoodie?” he asks, eyes filled with concern.
“No, I’m okay, babe,” you say with a smile. “I’ve brought a jacket.”
He nods, and that’s all there is to it.
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It comes back on a night the two of you are spending out. Chan takes you out to this fancy restaurant, and you dress accordingly, always pleased when you get a chance to impress him — and impress him you do. He does that thing that you think is adorable, where he keeps giggling throughout the meal. Under the table, your knees keep touching, and every time, without fail, his ears turn bright red. You love that you still have that effect on your boyfriend of three months.
After that, because you’re near a park, you decide to go for a walk in the night air. It doesn’t take long before you’re shivering in your small, tight dress.
“I’ve got a hoodie in my car,” Chan says, ever the gentleman. “Want me to go get it for you?”
You’re not keen on being left alone in the dark, and your high heels mean that if you go with him, it’ll take much longer than it should. Plus, it would ruin your outfit.
“It’s fine,” you say, arranging your scarf so it wraps around your shoulders. “We’ll be heading home soon anyway, right?”
“Sure,” he nods quickly, and it’s your turn to giggle, because it’s so cute, how Chan always indulges you.
He ends up picking you up when you’re walking back too slowly for his taste, and you protest, but you’re no longer cold when you get to his car.
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 The subject — which, by the way, you still haven’t realized is a subject — comes back yet again on a night you’re spending in his apartment. You’re coming out of the shower, a towel wrapped around you, and you’re going through your bag to find the clothes you’d planned on wearing for the night when something lands on the bed in front of you. You glance up to find Chan looking at you, leaning against the door frame.
“Just in case you get cold.”
You have, slowly but surely, made your way into November, but Chan’s place is warm, and you know you’ll have a human radiator, so you grin at him.
“I have a feeling I won’t be needing it tonight.”
Chan grins — but his ears turn red, even now.
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 You do a Secret Santa, a few days before Christmas, with Chan and his friend group, at Changbin’s place. It’s an incredibly nice house, but it’s big and it’s old, and you soon find yourself huddling against Chan for warm. It makes him laugh at first, and he presses a kiss into your hair, arm solidly wrapped around you as he rubs your arm. When you don’t appear to warm up as the night keeps going, he disappears for a few minutes, ignoring your protests.
He comes back from his car and hands you one of his signature black hoodies.
“You’re my savior, babe,” you sigh as you pull it over your head.
Chan beams.
His victory is short-lived, though, because you pull away from him after that — with the hoodie, cuddling makes you too hot.
You leave the hoodie neatly folded in his car when you both go back to your place for the night.
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It’s just a few days later that you meet Chan’s family for the first time. You’re all dressed-up, determined to do your best so that they’ll like you, even if Chan’s promised you that they would, no matter what, because he loves you, and that’s all they care about.
He dropped the word so easily, and you were left speechless. You haven’t stopped thinking about it since.
Even now, when you’re sitting next to him, making small talk with his mom and listening to his sister tease him playfully, you have butterflies in your stomach. The hand he’s placed over yours on the table, again making it look so natural, so easy for him, isn’t helping.
“Wanna go for a midnight walk?” he offers, later that night. “It’s kind of a family tradition.”
“Sure,” you say, voice squeakier than usual, and he tilts his head as he studies you, but he doesn’t comment on it.
“You’re not dressed warm enough,” he warns you, and before you can say that you’ve brought appropriate clothing, he’s taking off his hoodie and pulling it down over your head. “There. All good.”
It’s late when you come back, so you both wish his parents a goodnight before Chan drives you back to your apartment. You wait until you’ve made it up the stairs and you’ve opened the door to put your arms around him and pull him down for a kiss. It’s soft, slow, and filled with all of your emotions.
“What’s that for?” Chan whispers against your lips. He’s warm against you, his hands on your hips, and you feel so grounded by him. You always do.
“I love you too,” you whisper back.
The hoodie ends up forgotten on the floor.
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You celebrate New Year’s Day with Chan’s friends, again, but really, they’re your friends by now. You get at Changbin’s house early so you can help with the cooking and decorating the place, and end up teaming up with Felix and Minho in the cooking department, while Hyunjin takes over the decorations and forbids everyone from approaching him while he works.
It’s not because he’s shy. It’s because he thinks you’re all terrible.
Chan arrives kind of late minute, busy working on songs, as always, while you’re putting out the drinks you’d brought with you. You greet him with a quick kiss. You still have a million things to do.
“I’ve got your hoodie in my bag, you should put it back in your car,” you just tell him as you rush back into the kitchen.
You miss the way he pouts at you.
It’s later that night, but still with a couple hours to go until midnight, that he approaches you while you’re outside, staring up at the night sky and enjoying the fresh air after hours cooped up inside. He wraps his arms around your waist, buries his head in your neck. You lean back into the familiar touch with a satisfied sigh — until he mumbles something unintelligible.
“What was that?” you ask with a frown.
Even with the only light coming through the windows of Changbin’s house, you can tell he’s blushing when he pulls away from you.
“Why aren’t you keeping my hoodies?”
You blink at him.
“…because they’re your hoodies?”
He opens his mouth, closes it.
“Yeah, but they’re kinda… your hoodies too, y’know?”
You tilt your head slowly, and soon, you’re unable to fight the grin that’s spreading on your lips as you watch him get increasingly pouty.
“Do you want me to steal your hoodies?”
The blush spreads.
“Do you like it when I wear them?”
You’re just having fun now.
“Yeah,” he answers, before cocking an eyebrow at you. “Think it’s hot, by the way.”
You burst out laughing, and he tightens his hold around you when that takes you away from him. God, do you love that man. Once you’ve collected yourself, you reach a hand up to gently cup his cheek.
“Okay, I’ll steal your hoodies. Anything for you, love.”
He smiles, satisfied, and kisses you softly. He brings a hand to cover yours, entangles his fingers with yours.
You don’t tell him, but the truth is, you feel warm and fuzzy all over inside whenever he’s around.
So you don’t see the point in having a hoodie when you can have him instead.
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taglist: @lethallyprotected @jisuperboard
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remuslovebot · 4 months
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Oooo for the Felix drabbles could you do something along the lines like it’s the readers and Felix’s first time together?👀
omg this is so sweet! sorry it’s so late, i got carried away <3
i hope you enjoy it xx
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pairing: felix catton x fem!reader
warnings: smut! minors dni 💋 — loss of virginity, use of y/n, language, tooth rotting fluff, p in v sex, unprotected sex, praise kink, innocence kink.
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☙☙☙☙
Felix and you had been dating the last weeks of school. For the summer, he’d invited you over to his house. At first it felt like an imposition and too soon to see his family. But as charming as Felix was, he convinced you.
So here you were taking a tour of Saltburn, Felix showing you his home. “This is my room,” he said walking into a lavish room with books and papers everywhere.
“Through here is the bathroom and your room is right next door,” he smiled, walking into an empty guest bedroom.
Felix’s house was a bit overwhelming and you sat down on the bed. “This is wonderful Felix, thank you,” you smiled at him.
He sat down next you to and placed a hand on your knee. You blushed turning your head to face his. Felix admired your beautiful face, looking down to your lips and then into your eyes.
“I’ve set out a dress for you, for dinner tonight. I forgot to mention that we dress for dinner,” Felix informed you.
“It’s okay, it sounds like fun,” you said. Felix smiled softly, moving his face closer to yours. You placed a kiss on his lips, savoring his touch.
Felix kissed you back, a hand moving to your jaw softly. “I know, I know we haven’t yet. But I’d like to, if you want to,” he said softly, a look of yearning in his eyes.
When Felix first got involved with you, he knew you were innocent and a virgin. It’s what drew you to him. But whenever things got heated, he couldn’t bring himself to corrupt you just yet.
You nodded, your face incredibly close to his. “I want to. But maybe we should wait…until tonight?” You said. You felt inexperienced and vulnerable, especially under Felix’s touch.
He winked at you, pulling away. “We’ll see darling. Can’t wait to see you all dressed up.” Felix said, then exiting the room.
You felt all fuzzy inside and your stomach felt heavy. You pushed your thighs together.
☙☙☙☙
Later that night, you were dressed in a long black silhouette dress. You put up your hair in a messy bun and put on light makeup. Walking down to the dining room, you weren’t expecting to see Felix at the end of the hall.
“Hello,” you smiled innocently at him. Felix was dressed in a black suit and tie. He looked as handsome as ever.
When he saw you however, all he wanted to do was rip your dress right off you. Felix’s breath caught in his throat, you were beautiful.
“You look…amazing,” Felix said, blushing softly. He wrapped a hand around your waist lightly, to guide you to the dining room.
You sat down at the table, Elsbeth complimenting your dress. She sat you right next to Felix and he wouldn’t stop teasing you throughout dinner.
During the main course, his hand was on your thigh. His thumb rubbing soft circles. It made your stomach jolt and you could feel something fuzzy between your legs. You clenched around nothing.
Felix couldn’t have eaten fast enough, he wanted to finish dinner, take you upstairs and have you all to himself. You were looking so innocent in your dress it made him hard.
Finally dinner ended and Felix excused you both, saying you were tired after your long trip.
You walked up the stairs with him and in hushed tones you turned to him. “Felix, that was rude. We should have stayed,” you said, a small laugh escaping your lips.
He grabbed your waist softly and pinned you up against a bookcase. Looking down at you with his charismatic grin. “I can’t help it. I need you,” Felix said, almost close to a whine.
“You need me?” You asked softly, bucking your hips into his already visible erection.
Felix groaned, his head falling to your neck. “Yes, let me destroy you and make you mine, please.”
You nodded, a small and quiet “yes” echoing through Felix’s ears.
With one swoop, Felix lifted you up. You laughed a little too loudly and covered your mouth.
“It’s alright, darling. No one can hear us from this side of the house. You’ll be able to be as loud as you want,” Felix said playfully, sloppily kissing your cheeks and neck.
He carried you into his room and gently placed you down on the bed.
“Are you sure?” Felix asked, wanting to have your full and verbal consent before corrupting your innocence
“Yes, I’m sure,” you said, knowing in your heart that you wanted Felix badly.
He nodded, hovering over you and sliding a hand down your side. “I’m going to rip this dress off you,” Felix said.
You giggled, “But you’ll destroy it and I’ll have nothing to wear for dinner.”
“I’ll buy you a hundred dresses then, even more than that if you need,” Felix said, loving the thought of spoiling you.
You playfully rolled your eyes and connected your lips with his. Your arms grabbing his shoulders and pulling him on top of you. Felix sunk into your touch and melted. His hands tugged at the delicate fabric of the dress.
Felix broke the kiss and began to plant kisses down your neck, to your collarbone and then to your now unclothed breast.
Your nipples hardened under the chill in the room. A moan escaped your lips at Felix’s touch.
“Yes, darling. Make those pretty noises,” he praised and encouraged.
Soon your dress was off and most of Felix’s suit was on the side of his bed. He was laying on top of you, needing your left breast with one hand and moving his other hand to your panties.
“Felix, don’t tease,” you said, your arousal already getting the best of you. Felix hummed, slowly removing your panties and placing a finger through your wet folds.
“Such a good girl for me, already wet for me,” he praised. “You’re so innocent, bet you’ve never been touched like this,” Felix said.
You moaned under his touch, melting like butter on a hot pan. He moved his thumb to your clit, rubbing in slow circles. The knot in your stomach was tightening.
“I’m not going to have you cum yet, alright. I need to get you ready for my cock first,” Felix said, removing his thumb from your clit. The lewd words making you more aroused.
Felix gently slipped a finger into your heat, moving it in and out slowly. He then added a second finger stretching you out some more.
You moaned and after a minute he knew you were ready. Felix maneuvered you closer to him, ready to use you like his favorite toy.
“Ya ready love?” He asked, removing his boxers and his cock sprung free.
“Yes, please I need you inside me,” you begged, clenching around nothing.
Felix smirked, running a hand down your thigh. “It’s going to hurt for one second and then it will feel amazing, I promise,” Felix cooed, looking deep into your eyes.
You nodded, as Felix fit himself into your entrance. A groan fell from his lips and he stayed there. You clenched around him and grabbed his shoulders, waiting for the pain of your virginity to disappear.
“That’s my good girl,” Felix praised, beginning to slowly move in and out of you.
You both were a pile of pants and moans, feeling eachother and moving as one. Felix was soft and rough, your hands stayed on his chest.
The knot in your stomach tightened and you couldn’t hold in it any longer. “Felix, I’m gonna cum, I can’t—,” you moaned, eyes shutting in pleasure.
“That’s okay, lovely. Let go, cum for me,” Felix whimpered, getting close to his orgasm aswell.
You came, bucking your hips into Felix as you rode out your high.
Not long after Felix came, groans falling from his lips and into your eardrums.
It was so surreal and your sweaty body was tired. Felix collapsed next you and pulled your body into his. You were exhausted, the pain and pleasure overstimulating you. You fell asleep in Felix’s arms.
When you awoke, sun was streaming through the window. Felix and you hadn’t moved throughout the night. He was asleep beside you, your naked body covered by the softest sheets you’ve ever felt.
You mildly stretched, not wanting to wake the angel beside you. But it was no use, Felix’s eyes fluttered open and a soft grin appeared on his face when he saw you.
“Hello,” Felix giggled softly, nudging his head into your neck.
“Hi,” you replied, turning your sore body towards him.
“You’re glowing,” He said, looking down at your lips and then to your eyes. Felix leaned into kiss you and you felt like you were in heaven.
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PANTERA - Behind the Music pt.2
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slttygeto · 9 months
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SAVE MY LOVE FOR YOU | MANJIRO SANO.
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જ⁀➴ synposis: neither you nor mikey seem to have pulled out cupid's arrow despite being separated in this timeline. lucky for you two, you have the perfect group of friends for you to reunite in every life.
જ⁀➴ content warning: manga spoilers! (the ending), racer! mikey, best friend! kazutora, fem! reader, tooth rotting fluff, mikey is very confident and famous, making out on the first date, se.x in the changing room, se.x on the couch, protective sex (wrap it before you tap it), overstimulation, cunnilingus, mikey makes you cum three times, he's a sweetheart.
જ⁀➴ word count: 10k
જ⁀➴ note: thank you to @mztoman for commissioning me again (so loyal!) i had so much fun writing this, even though it took me a while. and thank YOU guys for 8k followers! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it hehe.
ʚ⁺˖↪ comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
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One of Takemichi’s biggest achievements in life is giving his friends the life he promised them when he first discovered what being a time leaper was. It wasn’t easy, he fought like hell but it was worth it at the end. All of his friends are alive, his girlfriend is soon going to become his wife and was preparing for their wedding—it couldn’t get more perfect than this. The man sat next to this big window of a very quiet and fancy place, so lost in his thoughts that he failed to notice that his friend was walking back towards their table.
Manjiro watched as the black haired male fidgeted nervously in his seat. It was his idea to take him out, help him loosen up a little since Takemichi has been so caught up in wedding stress. He deserved a day like this. Especially with how far he’s come and the sacrifices he made for them to be here in the first place.
“If you fidget again, you might break the chair,” Manjiro teases him as he takes a seat across from him. He watches as the male flinches before resting his forehead on the table. Takemichi heaves out a long sigh.
“This is way too fancy, Mikey…”
“Well, what did you think? That I’d be allowed to go a coffee shop down the street where anyone can recognize me?” Manjiro flashes his friend a grin, a little proud that his career mad him get this far. And Takemichi sighs in defeat, accepting the fact that their little hangouts were going to be like this from now on.
“Plus, you need this more than I do. Wedding preparations are wearing you out. Maybe attending Emma’s wedding first will help putting you in a good mood before the big day comes up.” It was true, but there was something else to be discussed and Takemichi wasn’t sure of how to bring it up.
Was this even the right moment for it? He didn’t even know if it was appropriate to discuss this so casually. But he needed to get it off his chest. It was one of the first things he noticed when the last time leap happened—how it felt off. He wasn’t even sure at first, he thought he was just imagining things, that the time leaps took a toll on him. But one look at Chifuyu confirmed that he wasn’t tripping. Someone was missing in the picture.
“Hey, do you remember ever having a girlfriend in the past?” Takemichi tries to be casual about this, tries not to make it seem like it was a life or death situation but his facial expression fails him. It was so serious that it makes Mikey pause eating his food.
“Huh?”
“A girlfriend, or perhaps a girl? Do you remember being involved with a girl romantically?” At first, Takemichi was hesitating on telling his friend about this. After all, there’s no nice way to ask this question without making it seem like you are calling your friend a total loser. But he remember his conversation with Chifuyu, and he knows that if there is anyone to trust when it comes to information about the past, it’s either him or Naoto.
“I remember her, we didn’t talk that much but she was definitely there,” Chifuyu says, still holding the cold beer in his hand. Takemichi had invited him to his apartment while Hinata was out shopping, because he couldn’t just discuss this kind of stuff over the phone.
“Through it all, right?”
“Mhm, you remember her too Michi, you’re just hesitant.” Chifuyu was right. Takemichi knew what he saw in all of the timelines, he is sure that there was someone and Mikey always looked so protective of you, never let anyone near you. He’s never seen his friend like that, and so for him to be separated from her in this final timeline just didn’t make sense. He needed to do something about it.
“Michi, are you trying to tell me something?” It seemed like Mikey refused to take the situation seriously, and no one could blame him. What was supposed to be a fun hang out with his best friend was turning into a serious conversation and faster than he had anticipated.
“You were in love, Mikey.” This sentence makes his face fall. Takemichi sighs before leaning back in his seat, stirring the drink placed in front of him.
“Each time I went back in time and tried to fix things, it led me to a different timeline—a different outcome. In all of them, you were involved with this girl—you were different,” Takemichi pauses as he looks up at his friend. “No matter how bad things turned out to be, she was always there and seemed to be the only person to pull you out of this dark cloud. Last time, way before that big fight happened—“ He almost cringes when he remembers how bad it was. “You two weren’t together anymore. And I’m not sure why or how, but that seemed to worsen things for you. And if I’m not mistaken, she did end up dying at one point.”
Manjiro was trying his best to process what was being said to him. He was quiet, attentive and did not know what to say. He wasn’t opposed to the idea that younger him had found love, he was more upset that he must’ve fucked up some way for this mysterious girl to leave him and not want to be involved with him anymore. But he had no memory of her. No name, no address—how old was she? Were they both the same age? Was she older? What was she like? She must’ve been super patient with him because his teenage self was a menace, whiny and way too needy.
“Do you remember what she was like?” Mikey breaks the silence, his eyes going from his drink to his friend’s face who hums, trying his best to remember some of the features.
“I’m not sure, all I remember is that she was very loyal to you. She had a bonten tattoo on the back of her neck to match yours.” Takemichi remembers vividly the Bonten timeline, where he had tried to visit Mikey at that one abandoned building. He remembers watching her as she stood near the leader with careful eyes, a warm touch that contrasted her partner’s cold demeanor. She seemed to give Mikey what he lacked—warmth, love and a home.
“Where was she during the last fight?”
“I have no idea, but she didn’t want to be around you,” Takemichi cringes at the confession.
It’s true, she and Manjiro were like strangers in this timeline, but it wasn’t guaranteed that they wouldn’t meet again. After all, this mysterious girl was also friends with the rest of Toman. Takemichi wasn’t sure who exactly was her closest friend in the gang, and it made the chances of meeting her very slim.
“How do you know so much, though?” Mikey starts, taking a bite from his pastry. “You can remember that I was a piece of shit to her, but not her face?” It was a natural question, and no offense was taken by Takemichi who shrugged his shoulders.
“Honestly, I don’t know. I got some answers from Chifuyu and Naoto. We know this girl, but we tried to look at every picture with Toman and she was just never there. Almost like a ghost.”
“And you’re sure she isn’t dead in this present time?” This was Takemichi’s least favorite theory. Something must’ve happened in the past, she was nowhere to be found and the guy didn’t have time to ask everyone if they remember a certain girl being involved with the gang. All he could hope for was that she was alive and that nothing bad happened to her. Unlike that one timeline where she does end up getting killed, Takemichi hoped that she somehow survived and made it in the present time.
“I hope that she isn’t.” Takemichi confesses, almost gloomily. “But one thing is for sure—if she was close to somebody in Toman, there’s a chance she might attend either mine or your sister’s wedding. Let’s not lose hope.”
--
You are invited to the wedding of an old friend. You remember Emma as being the light of any room she walks into, and seeing her get married to the one person she’s always had a crush on makes you grin from ear to ear as you hold the wedding invitation in your hands. You are not particularly close to the couple, but you remember bumping into them a couple of times and every time you would pray that nothing bad happens and separates them because their happiness is truly contagious.
The wedding takes place in about two days, and you learn that you are not the only one invited when you hear your doorbell ring.
“You’re invited to Emma and Draken’s wedding, right?” Kazutora stands at your door and you snort at how excited he is. You’ve been friends with him for almost a decade now, you’ve seen each other at your lowest and you couldn’t deny that your friendship with the man was one of a kind. He pestered you like you were a little sister, and no matter how annoying he was to you, he happened to be one of the few people who were truly there for you when you needed them.
“Mhm, she even called me and told me she really wants to see me.” You smile when you remember the phone call. She was sweet enough to ask for your number when you bumped into her three months ago, and now that you look back at it—it was definitely to invite you to her wedding. You let Kazutora walk inside your place and the man makes himself comfortable on your couch.
“Good. You do need to get out of the house, it’s starting to become annoying,” he says with a light tone, and he sees you roll your eyes before you take a seat next to him.
“Sure, I do need to socialize a little.”
“Not a little, a lot.”
“Shut up, I get it.” You smack Kazutora’s arm and he laughs before grabbing the remote control. He chooses a random show on Netflix before grabbing his phone to order takeout. You can’t even argue with him or tell him you had some left-over food from yesterday because he wouldn’t listen to you anyway.
Kazutora was right. You rarely ever went out unless you were obligated or the man dragged you to an event. It felt as though you dreaded the thought of going out and having to meet people. But attending Emma’s wedding didn’t sound like a bad idea. As long as the people there were as sweet as her.
Which made you realize another thing.
“It’s crazy how we both knew Emma, but we didn’t become friends through her.” You say outloud and your friend hums. You two became friends because you happened to be hanging out near a cat café. You both happened to be rescuing the same kitten, and decided that it was the start of your very long friendship.
“True, which also means that you’ve never met one of my closest friends and Emma’s brother.” You tilt your head in confusion.
“Who?”
“Mikey.” You’ve never heard of that name in your life. Then again, you’ve never been to Emma’s house or were that close to her in the first place. All you knew was that she had a massive crush on this Draken dude who you saw recently and that was that. Anything about her family was simply none of your business.
“Yeah, I don’t know him.” You simply shrug.
“He’s a pretty famous racer actually,” oh? That was a first. “But he likes to keep his personal life mostly private. Last time, he came to my place wearing a black hoodie and black sweatpants—I thought I was getting robbed.”
You snort at the thought of your friend being absolutely terrified from his own close friend. But this made you a little curious about this Mikey. If he was as famous as Kazutora claims, why have you never seen him on TV before?
“You’re such a scaredy cat. “ You tease your friend, nudging him with your elbow.
“Yeah, yeah. Says the same person who cried when she found me on her couch after opening the door for me at night.”
“I forgot!”
“Say that to the person who will murder you in your sleep.”
--
Emma’s wedding was as intimate as it could be. You weren’t complaining, you hated big weddings where people didn’t even know each other. And right off the bat, you could tell that the people invited to the couple’s wedding were loved ones and have seen them grow up together.
You don’t feel out of place, but you are still a little closed off as Kazutora marches towards his group of friends. You refused to go with him mainly because it would be so awkward and you wanted to give your friend some space to hang out with his own group of friends. And so you stand next to the drinks, pour yourself some water and hold onto your cup while looking around the place.
It was small, but not too small. You take notice of the flowers hanging by the ceiling and the cake sitting in the corner. There’s soft music playing in the background and despite the number of people present, it is not loud enough to annoy you. Perhaps if you were to get married one day, you wanted a ceremony just like this.
You’re brought out of your thoughts when you feel Kazutora’s hand around your wrist and you send him a look that he knows a little too well.
Don’t you dare-
“Come! They wanna meet you.” He’s grinning from ear to ear, and you hear his friends laugh at the contrast in your expressions. While Kazutora is so excited to introduce you to his friends, you look as though you don’t even want to be here.
“There she is! Give her some time and she will warm up to you guys,” you give a tight lipped smile and you can feel your cheeks warming up at the attention. You aren’t exactly awkward with people, but being introduced like this wasn’t a situation you would ever put yourself into.
“Nice to meet you, I’m Mitsuya.” A man with lavender hair extends his hand out and the smile on his face helps you relax a little. You shake hands with him and introduce yourself back, and suddenly everyone was telling you who they were.
Beside Baji (whom you’ve already seen in pictures before), everyone else is a new face. There was a set of twins, Souya and Nahoya. Pah-chin and Peh-yan, and then there was Hakkai and Chifuyu. They were all nice and welcoming, didn’t make you feel awkward at all. But you notice how Chifuyu’s stare lingers on you for a bit longer than the rest, and you don’t shy away from asking him if there was something he needed.
“Is there anything you need or?”
“Oh no,” Chifuyu starts and shakes his head. His cheeks are flushed that you caught him staring at you so intensely, but he continues nonetheless. “You just look familiar, that’s all.”
Familiar? It wasn’t exactly impossible, but you were still sure that you’ve never met Chifuyu before.
“Maybe we met outside or something, or maybe Kazutora showed you a pic?” You ask the male, and he quickly darts his eyes towards Kazutora.
 “Actually, yeah. I think that’s where I saw you.” He lets go of the conversation pretty quickly after this, leaving you standing confused next to your friend. You don’t really question it, perhaps he did believe you and it was all in his head. But it was still a weird interaction altogether.
You are quickly introduced to a new person, and your interaction with him isn’t any less weird than the previous one. Takemichi stares at you with wide eyes and parted lips, and you see Chifuyu pinch his side which makes you furrow your eyebrows. What the fuck was going on here?
“Are you okay—“
“You just look very familiar.” Again? You almost roll your eyes in annoyance. If they were playing games with you, this surely wasn’t a fun one. But you decide to give a proper answer to this observation and shake your head.
“It’s probably all in your head, I’m sorry. I have never seen you in my life.”
Despite how warm and gentle you look, you are strong minded and don’t shy away from situations like these. Takemichi finds himself smiling at the thought.
I can see why her and Mikey are perfect for each other.
Takemichi, just like Chifuyu, lets go of the conversation very easily and you find yourself even more annoyed than before. If one more person tells you that you look familiar, you might just tell them to fuck off. But you’re distracted by Kazutora dragging you to take a seat, indicating that the ceremony was about to start.
You watch as the best men step out and stand next to the groom who looks as though he is about to burst into tears at any moment. It is a sweet thing to witness in real time, the same man you remember meeting three months ago holding a bag of groceries while Emma was holding nothing but her purse. He was truly head over heels, and to be able to witness him devote himself and promise to love and cherish her, to be there for her and hold her when things get tough felt like witnessing a love story straight from the books.
The after-party starts shortly after, and you take notice of how the quiet and intimate vibes remain present throughout the whole night. You are sat at a table all alone, Kazutora had only left your side a few moments prior to grab food for you both and so you decide to just scroll on your phone for a bit. But you are quickly robbed of your alone time when your friend comes back and it seems as though he’s dragging someone with him.
“(Name), this is Mikey. Mikey, this is (name). He’s the friend that I told you about yesterday.” Mikey is anything but how you imagined him to be. Cocky, arrogant, maybe a little self-centered since that’s how everyone who rose to fame behaved even around their friends. But he is… closed off. He can hold eye contact, but you take notice of the small blush painting the apples of his cheeks at having to be introduced like this.
You two seemed to have that in common.
You give a small smile in response and extend your hand, Mikey sees it and mirrors your actions. You don’t think much of it, it’s a hand shake after all—but the moment the palm of your head meets his, you feel electricity shock through your body and you both pull away with a slight hiss.
“Shit-“
“Ouch.”
You’re both holding your hands back, but then you look at him and he feels different. For some odd reason, this young man you had just been introduced to looks at you as though he’s been looking for you for a long time. Your heart skips a beat. His eyes are intense, and he doesn’t seem to pull his eyes away from you until you dart them back towards Kazutora with red cheeks.
Your friend watches the scene unfold before him with raised eyebrows and a small smile. He had hopes that two of his closest friends would get along, and it seemed to be going just fine.
“Wow, am I interrupting something?” The playful tone to his voice seems to make the heat travel all over your body, and both you and Mikey smack him at his comment.
“Don’t be such a dickhead.” You look adorable when you try to be threatening, Mikey thinks. But he also thinks that it must be you.
The girl Takemichi told him about a few days earlier, it has to be you. He doesn’t know how or why, but the hand shake made him feel different about you. It was cheesy to be thinking this way, Mikey would’ve probably teased anyone else if they had told him this. But you were staring at him with pretty eyes and pink cheeks, even your stare was a shy one up until you looked at Kazutora.
You bicker with Kazutora for a few more moments until Mikey sees him lift up his hands in defeat, a triumphant smile on his lips. You roll your eyes at this.
“Fine, I’ll leave you two alone if that’s what you really want.” This little-
“That’s not what I said!” Your face is as red as a tomato, watching Kazutora walk away to chit-chat with some of his friends. Mikey finds himself snickering a little at this.
“Laughing at my misery?” You tell the man with a small grumble and he shrugs his shoulders before pulling out a chair.
“It was entertaining—can I?” You nod in response and Mikey takes a seat next to you. Your body immediately relaxes around him, and given that you were the only two people sitting at this table, you don’t find yourself feeling awkward as you strike a conversation with the man.
“So, you like bikes?” The question is genuine, but the way you phrase it has Mikey throwing his head back with a small laugh.
“I do, how were you able to tell?” He props his elbow on the table before resting his chin on his hand. He is grinning, and the way he’s staring at you makes your stomach flutter.
“A little birdie told me you’re a pretty famous racer,” You grin in return and mirror his actions, resting your chin on the palm of your hand. Mikey takes notice of what you are trying to do and lets out another laugh.
“I am, and yes I do love bikes.”
“I know, Mikey.” You chuckle at his sincerity and you see him shrug his shoulders.
“Hey, I’m an honest man. I wanted to make sure you knew I wasn’t lying.”
“Honestly, you look like a terrible liar.” You giggle a little when he lets out a gasp, feigning being offended.
“I am an amazing liar!”
“Oh really?”
“Yeah! For example, me being an amazing liar is a lie in itself,” Mikey finds himself grinning from ear to ear when his little joke makes you laugh really hard. He truly hopes that you were her, otherwise he would be pretty bummed.
“Alright comedian, I’m getting a little hungry. Wanna grab some food?” Manjiro doesn’t say no, and so you stand up and head towards the display of various types of snacks and food to fill your plate.
The night seemed to be going pretty well.
--
You spend the rest of the night talking to Mikey as though you’ve known each other for years. He lets you talk with Emma and Draken to congratulate them, and you don’t notice the smile that’s on her face when she sees you walk away with her brother. In fact, you fail to notice the various pairs of eyes lingering on you both as you sit down at the very corner, seemingly thinking that you are away from prying eyes, but you were obviously wrong. You and Manjiro looked like you were on a date.
The after-party does eventually come to an end. Kazutora tells you to get ready and you put on the coat you brought with you in case it got cold at night (which it did). Mikey walks you out of the venue, but before you can follow Kazutora to his car, he stops you with a hand around your wrist.
“Hey wait,”
“Yeah?” A part of you was hoping that the conversation was going that way, you had a lot of fun with Mikey during the few hours you hung out with him and you were hoping that he would do something about it.
“I had a lot of fun, and it wasn’t even my own wedding,” he starts with a chuckle. “And I was wondering if we could hang out again.” Oh, he was bold. You liked that.
You smile at this, and you remove your wrist from his grasp before wrapping it around his hand, grabbing it firmly.
“I would love to, Mikey.” You exchange phone numbers and you walk towards Kazutora’s car. You wave at Mikey, you see him mouth ‘I’ll text you later’ and it makes you blush. You get inside the car, and Kazutora immediately starts the car.
He notices how quiet you are, but you don’t look upset. You’re busy staring at your phone, almost like you were waiting for a text and then your phone pings. Your eyes light up when you see the notification, and you quickly type something on your phone.
Mikey<3
--Kazutora’s a pretty reckless driver. Think you gonna get there safely?
You stifle a giggle before sending a reply.
--He’s a pretty good driver actually, have some faith in him.
Kazutora doesn’t take a look at your phone, but from the way you are beaming at your phone, he knows who you were talking to.
“You two are getting along pretty well,” you don’t raise your head to look at him, only nod in response.
“Mhm, he’s really cute,” you say quietly and your friend smiles to himself. He hasn’t seen you this excited about someone in quite some time, and for it to be his close friend out of everyone warms up his heart.
You couldn’t wait to see Mikey again.
--
Mikey has a very busy schedule, you learn that from the past three weeks of texting him. You tried to make plans four times, and they were all dismissed by his team because he had something to do. You weren’t even upset about it, you had been having video and phone calls with him the entire time, but he still apologizes during every call and promises to make it up to you somehow.
Which brings you to where you are right now—standing near your apartment building waiting for him to pick you up. You two had agreed to go back to his place to hang out, since his race was coming up soon, the paparazzi were on his ass and he didn’t want that to ruin his fun time with you.
You see a black, fancy car pull up next to you and your eyes are wide as you stare at it. Mikey rolls down the window and flashes you a toothy grin, before yelling out.
“You’re gonna keep standing there?” You are quick to get inside the car, and you take notice of how clean it is.
“I didn’t think you were gonna pick me up in such a fancy car,” you admit, and Manjiro chuckles at your honesty.
“Were you expecting a bike?”
“Yeah.” You smile when you see him laugh a little harder. “What?”
“You’re cute, that’s all,” you blush at his remark and cough a little, suddenly finding the ceiling of his car very interesting.
“Getting shy?”
“Focus on driving,” you say playfully and he gets stubborn, refusing to listen to you.
“Ooh, did my talk of Kazutora being a reckless driver get to your head?” He rests his head on the steering wheel, and you almost panic when you see that he’s not paying attention.
“Mikey—really, focus!”
You arrive to his place in less than twenty minutes, and you hope your face does not betray you and show him how absolutely mesmerized you are by the size of the building. You have to hurt your neck in order to see the top, and he tells you that he lives on the 20th floor, since he loves watching the city from above. You walk inside, get in the elevator and Manjiro notices the way you’re holding your purse tightly.
His hand reaches out towards you and wraps around your wrist, you look at him in surprise but immediately relax when you see the smile on his face.
“Relax, yeah?” His voice is barely above a whisper. Butterflies dance in your stomach at the way he’s addressing you—so full of love and care. You look away from him when you feel your face getting hot.
Luckily, Manjiro doesn’t notice as the elevator finally comes to a halt, indicating that you finally arrived at the 20th floor. The doors open and you are greeted with a long, illuminated hallway with grey carpets on the floor and big windows on the side. Mikey is the first one to step out and you follow suit, watching as he starts to look for his keys in his pockets.
You arrive at a door with big, bold numbers on it and you wait behind Mikey as he unlocks it before stepping inside.
“Come in, make yourself comfortable.”
Mikey’s place is as fancy as the building, but there’s a hint of domesticity to it and it warms up your heart. There are framed pictures everywhere, trophies sitting above the bookshelf and plants in each corner of the humongous living room. The kitchen is attached to the living space, and you’re surprised when you see that the oven was turned on.
“Were you cooking?”
“Yeah, I’m actually lucky cause if we had been late, our dinner could’ve been burned.” He’s grinning from ear to ear, while you stare at him mortified. He could’ve started a fire and he’s laughing about it?
“You know that’s super dangerous, Mikey.”
“I was just excited to come pick you up,” he pouts at you, and you already have this show memorized. Every time he would do something reckless and he tells you over a video call, he would pout when you scold him in hopes of getting out of it.
“Please,” you roll your eyes, bending down to take off your shoes before putting on the slippers he had laid out for you. While dinner was still cooking, Mikey decides to give you a little tour of his apartment.
You learn that there is he makes good use of the space he has, and he tells you it’s all thanks to his sister Emma for giving him ideas. He has an office where he takes calls, a bedroom that looks rather neat compared to when you saw it over the video call a few days ago and a very pretty bathroom that is black themed. You think it’s the prettiest part of his house.
“Out of everything, you pick the bathroom?” He is amused, watching as you grab the bottles of shampoo and conditioner with a loud gasp, the fascination in your eyes warms up his chest. He truly feels like pulling you in his arms.
“Those are so cool! Have you ever broken one of these?” Manjiro raises an eyebrow at this.
“Why?”
“I just wanna know if you’re clumsy,” you give him an innocent grin, and he pouts his lips at your comment.
“I am not clumsy.”
“Hm, then I guess Kazutora lied to me.” This makes his ears perk up.
“Kazutora told you about me?” You chuckle at his eagerness but nod anyway.
“He told me you were reckless and a bit childish,” you tilt your head to the side. “Stubborn, indecisive, impulsive, idiotic-“
“Did he say anything that’s actually good,” you can sense the annoyance in his voice and chuckle before reaching out to hold one of his hands.
“He told me you were loyal, very kind and loving. You care a lot about your family and friends, and you never let fame get to your head,” your voice is soft as you tell him all the things Kazutora told you, and the longer you hold his hand, the louder your heartbeat is in your ears.
It feels strange, almost familiar to be this close with him even through just hand holding. And when you look up from where you were holding his hand, your breath hitches at the way he is staring at you. Intense, passionate—you can’t exactly decide how Mikey’s eyes feel, but you do know that they make you nervous. You bite your bottom lips out of nervousness, but you don’t let go of his hand. Instead, your thumb caresses the back of his hand and traces soft circles there.
“And what do you think?” Mikey finally breaks the silence, eyes darting all over your face before settling on your lips.
“I think,” you tighten your hold around his hand, before pulling him towards you in one sudden movement. “I think you should kiss me.”
Manjiro didn’t need to be told twice. His hands gripped your hips as he pinned you against his sink, lips pressed against yours in what started out as a soft, innocent kiss. But the longer your lips moved against one another, the harder it was to keep it tame. You only pull away when you’re out of breath and panting, hands gripping the fabric of shirt to pull him impossibly closer to you. He rests his forehead against yours, teeth nipping at your bottom lips before pulling you into another kiss. You gasp when you feel his lips kiss down, nipping at your jaw.
“Mikey—the food.” You pant out.
“Oh shit-“ There goes your dinner.
--
Whatever Mikey cooked that night wasn’t going to be served. You laugh a little at how pouty and sad he is at the incident, but you reassure him that you appreciate his effort until the very end, and even if it was ruined.
You end up ordering food for the night, and you find out that Mikey gets really excited when the food has little decorations on top. He orders a hamburger and you decide to go for a pizza, and the sheer amount of happiness on his face when he finds a little flag on top of the bun makes you coo at him.
There is a show playing while you eat, but neither of you focus on what was happening as you devour your food and talk about everything and nothing. You learn many things about Mikey, and so does he. And it seems as though the kiss you shared back in the bathroom is long forgotten, almost as though it never happened. But you do notice that Mikey is holding back on the stuff he is telling you.
“Is there anything you want to tell me?” You’re not necessarily being confrontational, but you see him shift a little. So you noticed.
He doesn’t say anything as he removes the fry from his mouth and grabs some water, and your heart sinks a little. When did it get so serious?
“Mikey?”
“Can I be honest about something?” Oh no. Whenever a conversation started like this, you knew it wasn’t going to end well.
“Sure.” He was gonna tell you that he didn’t enjoy the kiss—or worse, did your breath smell? You already felt repulsed by yourself and he hadn’t even said a single thing. You were getting ready for rejection, for the night to end terribly and for him to send you back home and never talk to you again. You knew it was too good to be true.
“This might sound a little crazy, but we were lovers in the past.” Huh? You didn’t know what to say—this sounded ridiculous, but maybe he meant when you were kids? On the playground?
“You mean as kids or?”
“No, I mean in a different timeline, we are—well, were lovers.” The use of the past tense when referring to his relationship with you has a bitter aftertaste to it. He wasn’t even sure what he was doing right now, you might not even be her. But he remembers his conversation with Takemichi after Emma’s wedding, how his friend confirmed to him that yes, it was you.
“Mikey, go for it.” Takemichi was grinning from ear to ear. It seemed as though you were actually alive and he did manage to save everyone this time. Even you.
“Are you sure-“
“Yes,” Chifuyu interrupts with his hands in his pockets and a smile on his face. “I’m certain that it’s her.”
This was the confirmation Mikey needed, but he was still scared. What if you reject him in this timeline? What if you both don’t fall in love and things don’t work out? This probably scared him more than having to tell you about the whole time leap thing.
“What do you mean?” You don’t tell him that he sounds ridiculous, nor do you laugh at the fact that he just told you that you were both lovers at one point.
“Takemichi, and my brother—but it doesn’t matter,” Mikey shakes his head. “Takemichi was able to go back in time at one point in his life. He’s what people might call a time leaper. He went through hell and beyond to be able to save his girlfriend from dying, but then eventually he got involved with me and that’s how we became friends.” You see him pause to smile to himself, and you think to yourself that there is no way someone can make up a story this detailed without stuttering or missing a beat.
“Every time he tried to fix something in the past, it would lead to a horrible outcome in the future. And he remembers that—well, we were together,” he frowns before continuing. “No matter the horrible outcome, we were never separated until well, now.”
What Mikey is saying right now should make you look at him like he’s crazy, what he’s implying and the events he’s describing sound straight out of a book. And yet you still believe every word he says. You aren’t sure what part of his speech convinced you that this was real, you just believe him.
“It makes sense. The handshake made me feel some kind of way, I thought I was crazy for looking too deeply into it—but then I felt you and I don’t know, I think even hanging out as friends would do us great, yeah?” You were going on such a ramble, that you fail to notice that Mikey is a little taken aback by your understanding of the whole situation. He’s relieved that you don’t think he is crazy, but when he feels the blush crawl up his neck, he looks away from you with a loud huff.
“What is wrong with you?” You blink at him.
“Hm?”
“You’re being awfully understanding, I wasn’t expecting it.” You find yourself cooing at him, and your hand reaches towards his face to pinch his cheek playfully.
“Oh Mikey, are you shy?” You regret your words as soon as they come out. You feel his hand grab your wrist before pulling you on top of him on the couch, making you straddle him. He smirks at your wide eyed look and his hands grip your hips just like how he did in the bathroom.
“Cat got your tongue?” Yes, it totally did. This side of Mikey was so unexpected but you weren’t complaining. But you did feel as though he was reminding you that no matter how flustered he could get, he always had more effect on you than you could ever imagine.
--
You get over the situation on the couch rather quickly, and an hour later you decide that it’s finally time to head back home. Mikey is whiny about it, but he decides to drive you back to your place and completely forgets why he was upset in the first place. His behavior resembled one of a very needy puppy.
He parks next to your apartment building, and he immediately starts sighing out dramatically.
“Mikey-“
“I cannot believe I have just been reunited with my past lover, and yet she still asks to go back to her place and urgently!” He yells out the last part, the back of his hand pressed against his forehead. “I am heartbroken.”
“I promise to text you, yeah?” You lean towards him and press a kiss to his cheek, to which he grins at.
“And you have to go on a date with me again very soon.”
“Okay, deal.” You quickly agree, and the smile beaming on his face makes you think that if he was always going to be this happy, then you would go on plenty of dates with him.
“Goodnight Mikey,”
“Manjiro.” Your hand rests at the door, and you turn around to face him.
“Yeah?”
“Call me Manjiro, I like it better.”
You smile at this and nod his way. “Goodnight Manjiro.” It sounds so sweet when it comes out of your mouth, and when you lean in to give him a kiss on the cheek, he grabs your face and pulls you into a deep kiss.
He is such a passionate kisser, a little aggressive since he keeps nipping and biting at your bottom lip and gripping the back of your head—but you don’t mind. You are dizzy when he pulls away, and he finally unlocks the door for you with a grin on his face.
“Goodnight, (Name).”
--
Over the next month and a half, not once do you question your relationship with Mikey. It’s casual, you tell yourself. It has to be. Sure, you have shared a few passionate, and very intimate kisses but it was all casual and friendly. At least that’s what you tell yourself.
Mikey refuses to discuss whatever is going on between you two either, chooses to brush it to the side because as much as his brain was telling him this was going well, his heart was screaming at him not to get attached. Which was too late.
The conversations you both had, the kisses you shared—hell, you even understood the whole time leap thing and told him that when he first shook hands with you, he felt familiar. But what if Mikey fucks up again? What if he messes up like he did in the previous times, so badly to the point where even Takemichi couldn’t fix it? The thoughts in his head were getting louder and more suffocating by the minute, and he was afraid that he would do it again—push you away, or worse; lose you.
You notice that his text messages become shorter and less excited than when you both started talking, it confuses you at first—you brush off the idea of him losing interest in you because there was no way. You both got along so well, did he really get cold feet so suddenly?
It was even more frustrating to try to get him to talk about it—every time you would try to bring it up, he would shut down your attempt and give a lame excuse such as “oh, I’m just tired” or “I didn’t get enough sleep”. You were starting to get a little fed up.
You text Kazutora to come over, and you’re not even surprised when you hear a knock at your door not even twenty minutes later. He was always quick with these.
“What do you want this time, more money? My soul?” Kazutora says as he walks in, but the humorous mood he was trying to set immediately fades when he notices your distressed state.
“Wow, are you okay?” His eyebrows are pinched in concern and you shake your head.
“No, no—I think Mikey doesn’t like me.”
“Huh? What do you mean?” This wasn’t what Kazutora heard from Mikey himself, and he realizes almost immediately that things weren’t being communicated properly between you two.
“He’s been acting distant and cold—and I think I fucked up, maybe I shouldn’t have kissed him the first time we hung out-“
“You kissed him the first time you hung out?” Your friend was impressed, but he winces when you smack his shoulder. “Shit sorry—hey listen, I’m very sure he likes you.”
“How can you be so sure? I really don’t know what he’s thinking and it’s killing me.” You are frustrated, and it’s very understandable. But Kazutora has to explain to you how Mikey was as a person.
“It’s Mikey, he’s incredibly scared of his feelings.” He sits you down on your couch and you raise an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. “It’s always been like this. His feelings are intense, and he is scared that it might push people away which is why he’s had the same group of friends for years--so my theory is, he really likes you. But he is scared that you do not feel the same, or worse and impossible; don’t feel the same way.”
You aren’t surprised that your friend knows this much about Mikey, but you still find it endearing that he was willing to explain to you in detail how his friend dealt with his feelings. You find yourself nodding at his words before resting your head on the couch.
“How do I make him less scared though?”
“What do you mean?”
“I obviously like him back,” you stare at your friend. “It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. But how do I tell him? How do I let him know that I want him? I can’t have him question that, I need him to be convinced that I feel the same for him, that it doesn’t scare me.”
Kazutora smiles a little at your eagerness. You and Mikey were truly the perfect match. Confident, unwavering and strong with a pinch of gentleness and care for your loved ones. He pats your head affectionately.
“Don’t worry, I got the perfect plan.”
--
You should’ve known his plan would include some of Mikey’s closest friends. You are a blushing mess as you stand in the middle of Mitsuya’s office in an awkward position. The lavender head is staring you down so intensely, you can’t even hold eye contact with him.
“Yeah, lucky her I have one ready.” Have what? You look at Kazutora who only grins at you before shrugging his shoulders.
Mitsuya then comes out and is holding what appears to be a black outfit. He hands it to you and sits back down on his chair before nodding at you to open it. You do as you are told and unfold the piece of clothing in your hands—a dress? There was pretty writing in gold, it said TOMAN on the back and Mikey written in gold right above the heart area.
“Is this…?”
“Mhm, Mikey’s old uniform when we were back in Toman.” Mitsuya says before fixing his glasses. “I tried to experiment with it a couple of times, and this is the last thing I was able to make. It should fit you as an oversized shirt.”
You hold the piece of clothing in your hand and nod at him, before darting your eyes towards your friend.
“What do I do with this?”
“His race is tomorrow. You already have a VIP pass to the front row, right?” You nod in response. “Cool, wear that and stand there. I’m very sure he will be very excited.”
It sounded like a reckless plan—crazy, even. But you were down for it as long as Manjiro knew that you felt the same, and that you were willing to try again with him in this timeline. You were ready to be lovers, it’s what fate decided for you both. And although it doesn’t always work out, during the two months of having known Mikey, you’ve come to accept the fact that you were his and he was yours.
No matter the circumstances, you always found your way back in each other’s lives.
--
Mikey loved his job more than anything in the world. He loved the adrenaline that comes with it, the confidence boost that he gets from hearing people—fans, and mostly his friends and family cheer for him, was immeasurable. He was the center of attention, and such a competitive person that all eyes fell on him the moment he gets on his bike. Like a kid being handed candy, Mikey finds pure joy in holding trophies at the end of every race, and some might think he is cocky for saying this—but he knew that today’s victory was going to be his.
He is getting ready to get on his bike, a heavy helmet in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. He knows his manager is saying something, but he can’t really get himself to care enough to listen, mind thinking of far more important things.
He wonders how you are doing, after all it’s been a while since he last saw you and it makes him internally cringe. Avoidance was one of his worst traits, coming second to pushing people away from him. He doesn’t know what he should do about the whole situation, he is far too deep in it to be able to get out without you getting mad at him or worse—choosing not to be with him. But Manjiro is ready for whatever is thrown his way, he will fight back and try to win you ever. Even if his own fears can easily get the best of him at the worst of times.
The race starts, and Manjiro doesn’t stare at the crowd cheering for him. He knows it’s the usual—His siblings, grandpa and all of his friends cheering the name “Mikey!” over and over again. It wasn’t until the race ends and Mikey wins the first place that he decides to take off his helmet and flash the crowd his usual, toothy grin. It’s contagious, and he notices how his friends keep pointing down for him to notice something in the crowd—or rather, someone.
There you were, standing so close to him yet so far away—how did he not notice you from the very beginning? You looked adorable, and you were wearing something that looked way too familiar. The closer he got to you, the sooner he was able to confirm that it was his old Toman uniform. And you were wearing it as an oversized shirt, with what he hoped were shorts underneath.
He doesn’t miss the way his siblings and friends were snickering to themselves at his speechless state, but he chooses that he will throw a tantrum over that later. He has more important things to focus on—such as asking you what you were doing here, how did you get that? Does it mean that you weren’t mad at him?
Mikey knew he should be careful with the paparazzi, after all they were the type to make a huge deal out of anything—but he has never had any dating rumor. In fact, he would always shut down the idea and say that dating wasn’t for him. But now that you were standing in the crowd, looking especially adorable in his old uniform, he couldn’t really decide whether to protect you from the nasty fans or to hold you in his arms and show the public that his heart belonged to one person only.
He decides to be careful for the sake of your safety—flashes you a confident smile that has your face changing into a bright red color before giving him a curt nod which he returns. You could hear Kazutora and Baji fake gagging in the back at the sight of you two communicating silently, but you didn’t care anymore. Not when Mikey’s eyes spoke louder than any cheering you heard today.
You are patiently waiting for him next to his changing room, it’s where Emma told you to go. You appreciated that neither she, Izana nor Shinichiro teased you about being romantically involved with their brother. Though you did notice the smile that painted the older brother’s face at your nervousness, so he decides to speak up.
“I’m glad you found each other again.” So that’s what Mikey meant when he said that his brother was a time leaper too. Shinichiro knew about you two, but he trusted Takemichi to do the job of telling Manjiro about you.
You fiddle with your thumbs, leaning against the wall. You don’t have time to get lost in your thoughts before you see Mikey storming down the hallway and towards you, ridding himself of his jacket and all the equipment that was strapped onto him as a form of protection.
“Sir—“ His manager tries to get his attention, but Mikey raises a single hand to dismiss his efforts.
“Whatever it is, cancel it or tell them to wait. I have far more important things to do.” You flush at his words, and you’re about to say something yourself when Manjiro grabs your hand and opens the door to his changing room. He turns out and looks at his manager once again.
“No one’s allowed near my room for a while, okay?” His manager raises a questioning eyebrow.
“But sir, why-“
“It doesn’t take a genius to know why.” Mikey almost gives the man a deadpan look, and the manager seems to understand almost immediately and flushes before bowing his head and walking away in a hurry.
You are amused at how eager Mikey is about the whole situation, but you can’t deny that you feel nervous about being alone with him in his changing room. It’s fancy and private, exactly what you imagine Mikey to have since it’s not any different from his house.
Once the door is closed and locked, Mikey turns around to face you and he lets out a fascinated “wow”, eyes darting over the newest version of his old uniform.
“You like it?” Your voice is shy, and you feel small under his gaze as he takes a step closer to you. His hand reaches to grab the hem of your shirt and you see how his thumb grazes over the fabric. His eyes travel all the way up to your face before letting out a hum.
“Ask me again if I like it,” Manjiro’s voice is barely above a whisper, you feel his other hand grab your jaw.
“Do you like it?” You can’t finish the sentence properly before he’s yanking you towards him by your shirt, the hand that was holding the hem of your shirt resting on the small of your back. His nose brushes against yours, and his eyes dart over your face in search for any sign of hesitance or wanting him to pull away.
Instead, you’re a blushing mess. But there’s a proud grin on your face, and you’re biting your bottom lip in hopes of controlling it—Mikey thinks you look too pretty up close.
“I love it, a lot.” He brushes his lips against yours, pulls back when he feels you trying to kiss him properly and when you whine, he lets out a small chuckle.
“What? You wanna kiss me?” You don’t give him a verbal response, but you catch him off guard and capture his lips in a deep kiss. You can tell he is taken aback, but the hand that was resting on your back rests on your face and you almost feel yourself melting from him holding your face with both hands. The kiss is passionate and deep, and you feel yourself being backed up against the wall. You gasp when you feel him pin you there, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth. His hands move down from your face to grip your hips, and when he pulls away, you’re a panting mess.
He rests his forehead against yours, taking in how your face is flushed and your eyes have a thin layer of lust coating them. He hums, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek before biting the skin there.
“I need to hear it.” And somehow, you don’t even have to ask him to know what he means.
“I’m yours, I wanna be yours.” He bites at your jaw, then asks you to say it again.
“Yours-“
“Fuck yeah, mine.” He gently nips at your neck, and you can’t think properly to tell him not to leave any love bites there. Again, you are reminded by how strong he is when he lifts you up and wraps your legs around his waist, walking towards the couch. He lays you down there, and when you see him get down on his knees, you start panicking.
“Manjiro, you don’t have to-“ he grabs your hand and places it on his crotch, and your lips part in shock when you feel the bulge in his pants. Already? Just from making out? Your face was burning enough.
“Feel that? Yeah, I have to.” You let him take off your shoes for you, and let out a surprised squeal when he rids you of your shorts and panties in one go. You hear him groan at the sight, shamelessly spreading your legs wider for him before pressing a kiss to the back of your thigh.
“Can smell you from here, sweet thing.” His voice is raspy, and you only nod in response while licking your lips. Your hands grab at the hem of your shirt and you’re ready to pull it over your head before Mikey stops you.
“Keep it. Wanna fuck you in it.” You feel dizzy at his words. You’ve always known that Mikey was confident but this was a whole new person, not that you were complaining.
Manjiro presses a few loving kisses on your inner thighs before getting to your pussy where he stares at it for a few moments. You don’t have to feel self-conscious, he doesn’t let you as he presses his nose against the patch of pubes sitting right above where you wanted him the most. He parts your pussy lips with his fingers, and swipes his tongue over your folds, smiling when you give that adorable gasp over the initial contact. His thumb pulls the hood of your clit, before pressing his tongue against it. And when he sees the way you squirm and try to move away, he knows he’s doing a good job. His tongue assaults your clit over and over again—kissing, sucking and humming against the sensitive bud as his middle and ring finger push past your folds. You are far too gone to react properly to the intrusion, sitting up with a flushed face and uncontrollable moans leaving your lips.
Your stomach twitches and relaxes a couple of times, and Mikey can tell you are trying not to cum fast. So he curls his fingers up, grazing that one spot that has you covering your mouth and throwing your head back. He keeps finger fucking you at the same angle and pace, grinning to himself when your breathing stutters and you cum around his fingers, gushing so sweetly with the prettiest moans leaving your lips.
Mikey is back on his feet almost immediately, the fucked out look on your face making him groan to himself as he pulls his pants down enough to free his cock from its confines. It’s pretty, has a slight curve to it and the tip is flushed red. Your mouth waters at the sight, hands squeezing your boobs while staring up at him, begging him to put it in your mouth.
“Not today, baby,” he reaches for a random drawer next to him and pulls out a condom. You don’t have to question him before he’s wrapping it around his cock. “Today is all about you.”
It was pretty ironic considering the pathetic moan he lots out the moment he pushes himself inside you. Your pussy welcomes him with so much ease, and you wrap your legs around him to pull him impossibly closer to you. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss when he starts to move his hips against yours.
“Oh fuck baby, you feel good.” Manjiro says against your lips and you can only moan in response, the angle at which he is fucking you knocking the wind out of your chest. You are already feeling dizzy enough from the sheer force of his thrusts, but when you pull your legs up on his shoulders, Mikey gives you a look that could only mean trouble.
You gasp in surprise when he lifts up your hips, pushing your upper body deeper into the couch and he starts fucking you hard. His hips are driving into yours so harshly that you feel the couch move with every movement and the sounds—fuck, you just hope that the room is soundproof because the cries you are letting out along with Mikey’s occasional groans of “fuck yeah” “that’s it, take it.” Are straight up pornographic.
Your hands try to cling onto his shoulders, but settle on his muscular arms. You feel the muscle flex under your fingers, and you feel a little embarrassed that feeling his strength was what tipped you over the edge. You cum around him with a loud yelp, body stuttering and shuddering against his. You try to cling onto him for support, throwing your head back when you feel him press his thumb against your clit. You whine in overstimulation.
“I can’t—fuck, I can’t!”
“Oh yes you can, come on baby, make me proud.” Your eyes roll to the back of his head at the overwhelming sensation of his cock bullying its way inside along with his thumb over your clit. You think it’s humanly impossible to cum again in such a short amount of time, but you do it. Mikey pulls it out of you and this time, he collapses on top of you as you both reach your orgasms at the same time.
You think it’s magical, your fingers resting at the back of his head to brush the few hairs there. You feel him pant against your skin and hum, pressing a few kisses there.
“Need to clean you up,” you giggle at how sleepy he sounds but nod anyway.
“Yes, you do.”
“Can I just do it with my mouth?” You gasp in terror, trying to push his heavy body off of you.
“No! I’m too sensitive.” You feel him pout against your skin, but he gets off of you and traces his hands over your lower body.
“I like you like this, you’re so pretty.” Mikey reaches his hand up and pinches one of your nipples, making you gasp and smack his hand.
“Manjiro, keep your hands to yourself.” You see his eye twitch at your comment, and suddenly he flips you on all fours and smacks your ass harshly.
“Face down, I need to taste you again.”
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highvern · 2 months
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Work Me Out II
Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem!reader
Genre: Smut, 18+
Warnings: simp gyu, car sex, protected sex, dom!gyu, brat!reader, spitting, choking, minor cock warming
Length: 2.5k
Note: happy 1k! i almost deleted this bc i hated it so y'all have to be extra nice to me about it (im joking) (not really) everyone say thank u @cheolism for beta-ing!
Remember: Tumblr runs on reblogs and I run on validation in the tags and comments :)
read part I
read more here
This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!
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“Hi!” 
“Hi,” Mingyu grins, dropping a kiss to your cheek before stepping back. “You look…”
He lifts your hand, encouraging a spin so he can fully appreciate the black slip dress gliding over your curves.
“Wow.”
“Wow?” You laugh as he pulls you closer, goosebumps rising under the palm at your bare spine.
“Beautiful,” he sighs into your lips. 
He kisses you deeper; crowing you against his chest with a hand at your back. The lull of Mingyu’s lips and cologne lower your defenses, mouth opening to welcome his tongue. But he pulls away just when things breach on the edge of more.
“We’re gonna miss our reservation.” He coos through a smile, dropping a consolatory peck to your nose.
“So?”
You try to bring him back but he dodges you easily, tipping his chin up until your only option is to leave a trail of kisses along his Adam's apple.
“I’d like to take you on at least one real date.” Mingyu argues.
He’d be more convincing if he wasn’t leaving fingerprints on your hips. But you think it's cute how he wants to wine and dine you. When you step back, you notice how his eyes glow the way they always do when met with approval. It’s cute, toes on the border of innocence; and it makes your knees crave the feeling of the hardwood floors so you can give him all the validation he can handle with his cock in your mouth.
But there will be more than enough time for that later.
“Wow, so eating Captain Crunch in our underwear after you defiled me wasn’t a date?” You gasp. “Okay. I see how it is.”
Mingyu snorts but plucks your jacket off the coat rack and holds it open to help you in. “Alright, drama queen. Let’s go.”
The drive is filled with chatter. Over the past week, the initial spark of attraction only grew between you; through chats at the gym, texting, or the one night he came to your apartment and ended up passing out on the couch while the movie continued to play in the background. Somehow it was more intimate waking up fully clothed, big spooning him with your face buried between his shoulder blades than having him drill your guts until tears streaked your face.
Since you slept over that first night, you’ve noticed a plethora of things that make you more fond of Mingyu. How he slurs his words when he’s excited, talking so fast you can barely decipher what he’s saying. If you throw a wink his way while walking across the gym his eyes go wide like he’s completely taken aback by your interest; as if he didn’t have a front seat to how much you liked him. Or if he notices you looking he’ll not so subtly flex or make a face that has you laughing so hard you nearly tumble off the treadmill. Or the way Mingyu prides himself on being a gentleman; pausing his workout and walking you to your car, insisting it's too dark out for him to be comfortable letting you go alone (partially because it's his fault your gym visits became a two hour endeavor since the night in the car, he just can’t stop distracting you in the name of getting to know you better).
It’s the same at the restaurant. Mingyu takes your coat and pulls out your chair. He asks for more details on the book you mentioned on the way over, asking if he can borrow your copy once you finish. He feeds you some of his entree off his fork, splits dessert to satisfy your sweet tooth, and nabs the check from the waiter before you can even think of offering to split the bill.
It’s almost too perfect; like he is running a checklist in his head. But Mingyu isn’t that kind of guy. His enthusiasm is just that, enthusiasm for spending time with you, getting to know you, picking your brain like you’re the most interesting person he’s ever met and he can’t wait to know more.
“How did you not know it was a couples class?” You ask, laughing into the curve of his arm as he walks you back to the car.
“It didn’t say it on the flier! It just said ‘portions for two’ and I thought that meant I’d leave with leftovers.”
“Wow. So Wonwoo got you banned and ate your food?”
“Wonwoo got me banned and neither of us gotta eat the food.”
The collar of Mingyu’s shirt flitters when his chest shakes with laughter, watching you down the slope of his nose. Like a flame in a vacuum, all the oxygen in your lungs is sucked up when you notice how good he looks even under the sterile overhead light. The glass of wine you sipped through dinner doesn’t help; turning your insides to mush and your blood to a boil.
Mingyu is so genuinely sweet you almost feel guilty for crowding him against his car and palming the zipper of his jeans. The taste of whiskey clings to his tongue, sucked away by your own until he opens the door and ushers you into the back seat.
“Mingyu,” you gasp, plucking the foil package from his grip. “Did you expect to fuck me tonight?”
“No,” he groans into the side of your tit, thanking whatever power in the universe exists that you hadn’t worn a bra. “But a man should always be prepared.”
You snort, “Okay, ‘Mr. I don’t sleep with girls I don’t date.’”
“I think that's former ‘Mr. I don’t’ whatever the fuck,” he moans as he finds your mouth.
Fishing his cock out from his underwear, you lazily jerk him to full mast. Mingyu’s hip buck into the swipe of your thumb. You’d drop your mouth to suck away the mess  collecting there but the back seat of his car doesn’t provide much room since your date claims most of the space already. Instead, you settle for tracing your tongue across the raised veins webbing across his neck and nipping at the sensitive lobe of his ear.
“Shit, shit, shit.”
Mingyu paws at your ass, fingers digging into the flesh and dragging your covered core closer to his cock. His other hand dips beneath your skirt, thumb swiping at your clit and two thick fingers pushing aside the scrap of fabric posing as underwear to stretch you open without preamble.
“Fuck, you’re so wet.” Mingyu pants.
You meet every curl of his fingers with a whine, face falling into the cradle of his jaw as he works you up. He’s everywhere; all you can feel, touch, taste. Even his cologne floods your nose; the scent of powdery spice and something intrinsically him that you can’t name.
Whether intentional or not, the match of pace isn’t lost on your mind as your fist sinks over Mingyu’s length the same time he stuffs you with his digits; fucking you by proxy while his tongue licks away every sound of satisfaction before it can make its way between your lips.
Before long, Mingyu bats away your hand to use his own. The second the latex is rolled down he holds himself for you, offering his cock like a prize you can’t refuse.
And he’s right.
The initial discomfort trickles up your spine. Eyes closed, chest caved, you take every inch as Mingyu whispers praise after praise into your neck. Twitching in each other’s hold, each clench of your cunt dips his stomach until you pull him back to your mouth and goad him with a demanding draw against his tongue with your own; a wet suckle more obscene than the way he splits you has him returning the gesture with fervor.
Hips finding a jilted rhythm, Mingyu manages to latch to one of your nipples, teeth razing along the sensitive skin until you nearly collapse from the delightful pain.
Arching into his chest so hard it hurts, your voice cracks, “Oh, Gyu.”
“Good girl,” he groans into your chest.
The hand on your ass pulls you across his cock, forcing you down with each of his thrusts up. Mingyu’s loud but you’re louder and the abandoned top floor of the parking deck doesn’t provide any disguise from what’s happening behind the foggy windows of his SUV. 
As sexy as you are with your head thrown back, desperately moaning his name, the fear of getting caught is starting to suffocate him.
You beat against his chest when Mingyu pins you in place. He crushes you flat against him, pelvis to pelvis, so deep you feel him in your throat. Tight around the stretch, he nearly loses his train of thought but finds it when an involuntary rush of his thighs makes you squeak.
He brushes his thumb across the apple of your cheek in an effort to quell the bubbling tantrum behind your eyes. “Shhh,” he whispers. “We can't get caught.” 
Time stops as you come to a crossroads. Eye to eye, you can see him waiting for a signal. If you want to stop, drive thirty minutes back to either of your apartments, and then go at it like rabbits, Mingyu will do it. If you want him to stop, drop you off at your doorstep, and send him home with the worst hard on of his life, he’ll smile through the tears. But if you want to finish what you’ve both started in the discomfort of the back seat, Mingyu needs you to be quiet.
So you can listen without complaint, bury your face in the column of his neck and bite your lip until it bleeds from strain. Or you can let Mingyu decide the best course of action.
“Then shut me up.” 
A beat of absolute silence rattles your shaking confidence. Mingyu’s eyes widen, jumping back like he’s been burned but you fake courage until you spot the way he licks his teeth at the idea.
Whatever permission he’s looking for he finds in the slight dip of your chin. You watch Mingyu’s mood shift in an instant. The playful tilt of his lips melt away, the corners of his eyes freeze over their usual humor. And the arm around the dip of your waist squeezes so tight you fear he’ll leave a bruise in the shape of his palm.
The hand on your face falls to your jaw, pinching your cheek between his pointer finger and thumb as he tsks, forcing your head back and forth mockingly before he forces his thumb between your teeth.
“Shut. Up.” 
He punctuates his command with a bruising thrust of his cock; thrilled at the way his thumb digging into your tongue chokes any sound. The hand on your ass nearly rips your underwear as Mingyu uses it to guide your hips, keeping you bouncing in his lap until you're drooling.
Mingyu’s teeth rake against your jaw, “Touch yourself.”
You clumsily snake a hand down, hips jerking under the blind swipe of fingers at your core. Eyes unfocused, ears filled with the rush of blood, you don’t resist the urge to bite his thumb just to see what he’ll do next.
The sting of his palm against your ass isn’t a shock.
But the wet of his fingers on your throat is.
And when Mingyu squeezes, cutting off the blood to your brain for a second in a show of possessive strength, your choked wail is music to his ears.
“Fuck, you like that?”
Nodding like a bobble head, more pathetic whimpers fill the car. 
With a shift of weight, he makes you grind against his lap, the metal of his belt buckle cutting into the back of your thighs. But you’re full to the brink of shredding apart you can’t bring yourself to care. Heat in the pit of your stomach blooms, used and deep.
Mingyu fans his hand along your throat, fingers digging into the jut of your jaw to make you look at his face. His hair is a mess, cheeks rosy with sweat at his hairline. A low rumble in his throat is all the warning you get before he spits on your lips and it glides down your chin; slipping under his palm while he squeezes until stars dance in your vision.
Hips stuttering, everything draws tight; every muscle, every vein, each individual cell contracts and detonates until Mingyu fucks into your so hard your head hits the roof as he flails. Thighs firm against the top of his, you feel each sputter into the condom.
“Mingyu,” you croak, throat wrecked.
Everything feels heavy and worn when he brings you into the warmth of his chest. Somehow, you hadn’t managed to undo a single button beyond the four that let you peek at the dip between his pecs; but the friction of his shirt against your sensitive chest makes you shiver. Sweat and spit leave the fabric clinging uncomfortably but you don’t have the energy to change it.
“Jesus Christ.” Mingyu draws in a heavy breath, and the motion has your legs twitching again. “You okay?”
Nodding into his neck, your eyes slip shut. If he keeps tracing shapes on your back, you’re in serious trouble of falling asleep right there in the back of his car with his softening length still inside you. Attempting to prevent the momentum from taking over, you rise on your knees, only for Mingyu to bring you back down.
“Just…just let me hold you for a second.” he sighs, sounding as exhausted as you feel. “Please.”
Peppering languid kisses across his face, down the curve of his cheek, up the bridge of his nose, you smile when he pouts at the lack of attention to his lips. But when you meet them with your own, it's nearly impossible to call it a kiss from the sleepy grins splitting your faces.
“Wanna come back to mine?” Mingyu whispers into your cheek, leaving his own series of kisses. “We can watch that new horror movie you were talking about.”
“You hate scary movies.”
“Oh no, I guess you’ll have to stay the night in case I can’t sleep.”
“How awful!” You mock. “Did you buy more cereal?”
“Mhm.”
With a monumental sigh, “Then I guess I can come over.”
It takes nearly fifteen minutes to find the courage to unwind from each other. Mingyu distracts you by tracing shapes between your shoulder blades and making you guess his artistic interpretation. Each time you're wrong he demands a kiss. Each time you're right he gives you one back.
When you make him guess what your finger burns into his shoulder he nearly faints before deciding it's time to head home, hands intertwined over the center console the entire way.
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crowborn666-nsfw · 3 months
Text
Say My Name
Bakugo Katsuki x Reader
Tags: unprotected sex, rough sex, AFAB anatomy, consent is sexy, dry humping,
~~~~~~
You jumped at the front door slamming shut, the telltale sign of your husband coming home from what could only be a bad day.
You wordlessly held your arms out to Katsuki after he’d shed his boots and gauntlets, practically stomping over to you to scoop you off the couch.
“Bad day, dear?” You hummed, arms wrapped snuggly around Katsuki’s neck. He only gave a grunt in reply, setting you down on your shared bed. You took notice of his hero uniform still on his person, perfectly framing his body.
“Don’t you want to get out of your uniform?” You asked gently, tugging slightly on the top of his hero outfit. “Maybe get a warm shower?”
“No.” He ground out through gritted teeth, caging you in on the bed. “I just want you. That okay?”
You nodded, and were instantly swarmed by Katsuki’s scent, his lips molding to yours in a heated kiss. His tongue slid over yours, one hand coming to tangle in your hair. Your hands flew to his shoulders, nails digging in just the way you knew he liked.
Katsuki groaned into your mouth, stealing the air from your lungs as his thighs moved to settle under yours, your legs now straddling his hips. He pulled your shirt off, his lips trailing down to your neck as his hands squeezed your breasts.
You could feel the tension in his shoulders, and you made a mental note to ask him later what had happened today.
“Kats…” you breathed, back arching into his touch as he pinched a nipple, drawing a moan from you. You felt his clothed erection as you both shifted, and you found yourself rolling your hips against it.
Katsuki moaned into your neck, rolling his hips in return. “Fuck, (Y/n).”
You moan loud as his hand moves down, thumb pressing to your clit and rubbing quick, tight circles. With your hips bumping together, Katsuki’s hot and heavy erection brushing against you and his thumb’s motions had you tumbling over the edge in no time. You cried out, tugging him closer to you.
His lips returned to yours, distracting you while he made quick work of your shorts. It wasn’t long until you felt him at your entrance, bloody red eyes awaiting your go ahead.
You nodded eagerly, and just as he started to push in, you spoke.
“Need you, Dynamite.”
A sharp gasp ripped from your throat as Katsuki suddenly sank into you to the hilt, and a deep groan landed next to your ear.
“Fuckin’ hell.” He growled, a sharp toothed grin sent your way, “That’s all I needed to hear, baby.”
You smiled up at him, admiring how his red eyes popped out from behind the black eye mask he wore. “Fuck me good, Dynamite. ‘M all yours.~”
Katsuki bit his lip and shuddered at the sound of his hero name being used in such a context, and he quickly set to work pleasing you.
His gloved hands gripped your hips, pinning you to the bed as he began pounding into you.
“This what you wanted? To be fucked by Dynamite himself?”
“Yeah!” You moaned, tightening your grip on his shoulders, locking your ankles behind him to keep him right where he was.
The sound of skin on skin quickly reached your ears, the bed creaked under you, and occasionally the headboard would hit the wall behind you.
You could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter, and you could feel the coil inside you beginning to wind again. Stars began to dance behind your eyelids as Katsuki hit that perfect spot over and over.
“Dynamite—mmh—‘m close!”
“Yeah? Is my pretty princess gonna cum?”
You nodded frantically. “Can I, Dynamite?”
Katsuki leaned down to kiss you with a gentleness that rivaled the fact he was rearranging your insides. “Go ahead, cum for your hero.”
You moaned as your climax hit you like a tidal wave, and it wasn’t long until Katsuki was cumming as well. As you both came down from your respective highs, Katsuki couldn’t help but still rut his hips into you, nearly whining at the overstimulation.
You couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh. “Do you feel better, Dynamite? Or do you need a second round?”
Him pinning your wrists above your head was all you needed to know.
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astarion-approves · 7 months
Note
Astarion & Tav taking a bath together? Something gentle and intimate but non-sexual? ♥️
Astarion x Gender Neutral Reader (Tav)
Tag: 1.6k+ words, SFW, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Developing Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Confessions, Bathing/Washing, bathhouse, No Smut, Drabble, Short & Sweet
“I had no idea that there even was a bathhouse in Baldur’s Gate.” Tav mumbles as they followed behind Astarion, leaving their camp behind in search of a place for a fresh bath. They both carried their own bags, Tav carrying a change of clothes and a bar of soap. Looking at Astarion’s bag, it looked much heavier.
Astarion glanced back to Tav with a boyish grin. “There’s more than one, of course. I wouldn’t be caught dead in any of the free ones though. No, for us, we’re going to take a bath in luxury.”
Read below or on Ao3
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“I had no idea that there even was a bathhouse in Baldur’s Gate.” Tav mumbles as they followed behind Astarion, leaving their camp behind in search of a place for a fresh bath. They both carried their own bags, Tav carrying a change of clothes and a bar of soap. Looking at Astarion’s bag, it looked much heavier. 
Astarion glanced back to Tav with a boyish grin. “There’s more than one, of course. I wouldn’t be caught dead in any of the free ones though. No, for us, we’re going to take a bath in luxury.” 
“Luxury…,” Tav said with a wince. “How much is this going to cost me?” 
“Don’t worry your pretty little head. It’s on me.” 
“Wow, Astarion, it’s almost like a date.” 
“Hah!” Astarion barked a laugh. “You wish.” 
The bathhouse was huge, the outside painted a bright, flawless white with an emerald trim accenting the pillars and fencing that surrounded it. Two large gold doors signified the entrance, the level of elegance screamed ‘high class.’ 
Once inside, Astarion strode ahead, already reaching for his coin bag and requesting a private room for himself and Tav to share. Tav watched as the woman working the front desk counted the coin, a ridiculous total of 75 coins for a single bath. 
With a room key in hand, Astarion clicked his tongue for Tav to follow, apparently not even phased by the amount of coin he willingly spent for the night. This is the same man who haggled over the cost a black dye with a child two months ago. 
Tav supposed it was fine to splurge every once in a while, but they couldn’t justify this. “I could have split the cost with you,” Tav said. 
Astarion fiddled with the key, inserting it into their room and twisting his wrist to open it. “Nonsense. Besides, part of the reason I brought you here is to protect me while my head's under water.” 
“Right…” Tav nodded. Something that Astarion had admitted months ago.. nearly a year now. During a night of passion, their lips locked together in a heated embrace. But it didn’t feel right. The shock in Astarion’s eyes when they pulled away still pains them. Instead of moving forward and having one another… they talked. They’ve been close friends ever since, giving Astarion the freedom to be open with his fears, to admit why he attempted to seduce Tav in the first place. 
Protection. 
And even now, as Astarion stripped down to nothing, Tav smiled knowing that he felt safe with them. 
The room wasn’t massive, but still larger than any shower room Tav had ever seen. The walls were painted into a beautiful scene, one to trick your mind into thinking you were bathing in nature, surrounded by trees and a waterfall nearby. Tav swore they even saw the leaves move as a subtle breeze rolled through them and through the room.
There was a single shower and a very very large bath. Steam filled the room, the bath already filled to the brim with hot water, which flowed over the sides and into the drains on the floor beside it. 
Tav sighed happily as they undressed along with Astarion and stepped up to where the shower waited for them. The floor was hot beneath their feet. The air, although steamy, felt as refreshing as standing at the top of a mountain. 
Astarion began unpacking his bag, removing item after item and placing it beside the shower. 
After six different items were removed Tav just had to ask, “Wait, just how many products do you use for your hair?” 
“Products?” Astarion put his hands on his hips and shook his head. “Tav, these are just shampoos, conditioners, hair masks, oil, and a hydrating leave in gloss… do you not take these steps with your hair?” 
Tav runs their hand through their hair, shrugging. “No?” 
“What? Gods, you’re an absolute savage. Come here.” Astarion grabbed a large bucket that was resting off on the side, turning it upside down and making a temporary chair. “Sit.” 
“I can wash my own hair—“
“Sit, Tav. I won’t say it again.” 
Tav knew better than to argue and, with a sigh, they plopped down onto the bucket. Soon after, Astarion was turning on the water. It was hot and relaxing, pouring down the top of their head and running down their body. 
“Okay,” Tav whispered. “I understand the luxury bath now.” 
“Oh, darling. We’re just getting started.” 
Astarion poured shampoo into his hands, rubbing his palms together before sliding them into Tav’s hair. 
“Oh—“ Tav gasped, their head falling back and into Astarion’s chest. 
He chuckled, his finger’s massaging and scratching at their scalp as they worked the shampoo into their hair. “Do I dare ask how you’ve been washing your hair all this time?” 
“Cold water and a bar of soap.” 
“Like I said, an absolute savage. What ever would you do without me?” 
“Uh… Continue bathing with cold water and a bar of soap?”
Astarion tugged on their hair, laughing. “Smart ass.” 
Soon he was pushing their head back under the flow of water, rinsing out the shampoo and then continuing with the conditioner. 
Tav breathed in deeply, their eyes closing as they allowed Astarion to take care of them. And Astarion held them so gently, his finger’s threading through their hair, his nails pressing against their scalp and moving to the back of their neck. Each stroke sending shivers down Tav’s body as Astarion massaged the conditioner deep into their roots. 
“Feel good?” 
“Mh.” Tav hummed, shifting their head and resting the side of their face into his chest. 
“Ah, no falling asleep. Not yet. Rinse this out and jump in the bath.” Astarion pushed Tav forward, back into the water and let the conditioner wash out. 
“What about the other stuff?” Tav asked. They looked to the pile of other products, not wanting Astarion to stop yet. 
“Cute,” Astarion said with a small smile. “That comes after the bath. Now hurry up.”
Tav pouted as they stood, giving Astarion the space to sit down. “Do you want me to wash your hair—“
“Bahah! Absolutely not.” Astarion laughed and reached for his shampoo, one of many. “I have a very strict regiment.” 
“Oh…” 
Astarion sighed and looked back to Tav. “Maybe next time.” 
“There’s going to be a next time?” 
“By the Hells, Tav, just get in the damn bath.” 
Turning away from Astarion, Tav did as they were told. Hissing as their toe touched the water, it was even hotter than the shower. Soon they were sinking into it completely, moving to one edge of the bath where there was a bench under the water to sit and rest. They let their head lean back on the edge, their eyes closing as they allowed themselves to relax. 
They don’t know how much time passed before Astarion joined them in the water. The vampire sitting next to them and joking about how it looked like he was the one doing the protecting here. Tav simply reached for Astarion and pulled him into their arms, snuggling against him and pressing a single kiss to his shoulder. 
“Sleepy, are you?” Astarion slouched in the water, allowing Tav to cuddle him however he wanted, but he still felt a little stiff. “Looking for a cuddle?” 
Which they’ve never done before. Not since that night. 
Tav cracked open one eye, looking up and into Astarion’s deep blood red eyes that gazed back at them. “What are we?” 
Suddenly the tension in the room grew thick, Astarion saying nothing and only continuing to look back at Tav. 
Then he hummed, finally ripping his gaze from Tav. “Two friends, sitting in a bathtub, and they’re not in love.” 
“We’re not?” 
“Well..” Astrarion cleared his throat and continued, “I can’t speak for your lovely little self but—“ He paused, lifting a single hand from the water to cup Tav’s cheek. “Maybe I am? Honestly, Tav, I have no idea.
“We’ve been friends for so long… but I know that I would die for you. I wouldn’t die for the others. I would fight for them, but I wouldn’t die for them. And I miss you when you’re not around me. When you leave camp to go to Gods knows what— washing your hair with fucking sewer water—“
“—I use water from a lake.” 
“Or buying me avocados because I ask you too—“
“—What do you even use them for?” 
“My hair.” 
“Really? Avocados?” 
“Yes, it’s very good for your hair, Tav. Can I continue?” 
Tav laughed. “Sorry, yes.” 
“I don’t know what love is… For so many years, sex, lust.. any sprinkling of romance all ended in disaster… What I feel with you is different. It’s so much more than anything I’ve ever experienced, and we’ve never even fucked! It’s all so strange to me.” 
“You don’t have to have sex to be in love with someone, Astarion.” 
“Yes, I know that now, but… for the longest time— I didn’t. I want to explore this with you.” Astarion sat up, pulling Tav along with him. “Whatever this is.” He placed his hand against Tav’s chest, breathing in deeply and closing his eyes. “I want your heart to beat like this, only for me. I want to finally know what falling in love is truly like…With you.” 
Tav took Astation’s hand, gently pulling it away from their chest and bringing it to their lips, pressing a small kiss on the back of his knuckles. “I love you, exactly as you are, and I’ll never need anything else from you. We’ll take this as slow as you need to.” 
Astarion smiled, lowering his head and resting his forehead against Tav’s. “Thank you..” 
“Of course,” Tav replied and sank back into the hot water, taking Astarion into their arms once more. This time, Astarion let himself mold into their arms, closing his eyes, relaxing, and enjoying the protection and understanding that Tav offered. 
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cevansbrat0007 · 18 days
Text
Sugar Fix
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Summary: Your poor attempt at a joke lands you in hot water with your man. Takes place directly after the events in Sweet Tooth and Sweet Tooth Deluxe.
Warnings: Mature Themes, Smut, Ari Being A Menace, Brat!Reader, Discussions of Poor Body Image, Arguing, Manhandling, Mentions of Punishment, Spanking, Pussy Spanking, Spanking, Oral Sex (fem rec), Cursing, Minors DNI
A/N: Written for @writer84. Part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!
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“God, that was good.” You lean back in your seat, lazily stretching your arms over your head. Your man smiles as he dutifully picks up your plate before briefly giving into temptation long enough to press a tender kiss against your lips. 
“Mm.” Ari hums low in his throat as he repeats the action once more. “Glad you enjoyed it, baby. Still find it hard to believe that you’d never had chocolate chip pancakes before today.”
“Hey! You promised you wouldn’t make fun of me.” You pout, reaching out to swat his perfectly sculpted ass, which was now unfortunately hiding beneath a pair of black sweatpants. At least he’d forgotten to put on a shirt.
Mostly because you were wearing it. 
“And I’m not.” Your man chuckles while adding your dishes to the growing pile in your sink. “I’d never do something so foolish. Especially since we only just made up.” He tosses a wink at you over his shoulder. 
Yeah, and that was mostly your fault.
“I am really sorry about that.” You murmur, feeling a twinge of regret over having subjected your man to several days of the silent treatment. “I should’ve talked to you about that whole business with Charline.” 
“Water under the bridge, baby.” 
Resting your chin on your hand, you watch as your bounty hunter busies himself with filling the sink with hot water and dish soap. Some days it still floored you that you were seeing a man who didn’t put up a fuss about cooking. Or cleaning for that matter.  
“I just meant that I’m in no hurry to have you toss me out on my ass again just yet.” He continues while sudsing up one of the new sponges you’d left laying on the counter. “That’s all I was saying, little Bird.”
“Well that wouldn’t be very hospitable of me, now would it?” You’re quick to counter, allowing your gaze to drop to your bare knees. “Seeing as you were kind enough to break into my home and cook me breakfast.”
“I had a key.” He snorts dismissively. 
“Yeah, one that you stole!” You fire back, doing your best to hide your grin. “From me!”
“What the hell does any of that matter if you were already gonna–” He cuts himself off with a shake of his head before deciding to change tactics. “Look sweetheart, if you wanna argue about semantics can you at least wait until we’re both naked?” 
“I guess so.” Comes your breezy reply as you fiddle with the hem of Ari’s t-shirt. Granted the fit was much too big for you, but it didn’t change the fact that you loved how wearing it made you feel. There really was something to be said for being surrounded by the heady scent of your man. 
“Thank you.” Ari grunts before returning his attention to the stack of dishes in need of a good scrub. “Did you have enough to eat? Can’t have you wastin’ away on me.”
“Sure did.” You beam at him, content to sit back and enjoy the view. No man should be allowed to look that flippin’ sexy while doing simple household chores.
“Good.”
“To be honest, I didn’t even realize I was that hungry until I took that first bite. I suppose that’s what I get for not really eating…” You trail off when Ari turns toward you, his piercing blue eyes locking with yours. “...much over the last couple days.” 
Your pulse speeds up as you watch your Bounty Hunter brace his still-wet hands on the edge of the counter. Which is when you belatedly realize that you probably should’ve kept that tidbit of information to yourself. 
“Little Bird?” 
“Yes, sugar?” You can’t help but wince at the way he says your name. Even still, you decide to stand up, hoping to distract him from the direction his thoughts were taking. “Want some help drying those plates? Because I don’t mind–”
“When was the last time you ate something?” He cocks his head to the side, almost like he’s studying you while he waits for your answer. “And before you get cute on me, baby, I’m talkin’ about before today.”
You can feel yourself physically wilt as you weigh your options. While you tended to believe that honesty was the best policy, sometimes being too honest had the tendency to get you in trouble with your man. 
“I had some toast the other–”
“A full meal.” Ari swiftly interrupts, clearly not in the mood to mince words.
“Well, if you really must know…” Crossing your arms over your chest, you prepare to stand your ground. “I haven’t found myself with much of an appetite lately.” You sniff, ignoring the way his nostrils flare. “Probably on account of our tiff.”
Okay, now that was absolutely true. Because whether this man realized it or not, he had a knack for always making sure you ate at least one proper meal before the day’s end. With him out of the picture, you hadn’t really had any desire to eat. 
Instead of responding, Ari turns to stare out the window, quietly sucking on his teeth as he does. You knew without asking that he was working to rein in his temper before he spoke again, lest he say the wrong thing and start another fight.  
“C’mon Beast, it’s really not a big deal.” You shrug, biting your thumb as will him to cast a glance your way. “Besides, I’m pretty sure these hips could stand to miss a meal or two.” 
While it was certainly a poor attempt at levity, you felt that one of you had to do something to lighten the mood. You startle when Ari suddenly throws down the sponge into the sink, sending water splashing everywhere. 
You watch him slowly dry his hands with a nearby towel before tossing it aside in favor of bridging the distance between you. Good sense and the need for self-preservation has you backing up; however, you scarcely make it two steps before you feel your butt collide with your kitchen table. But your bounty hunter doesn’t stop moving until he’s standing directly in front of you.
“What was that?” He asks without an ounce of friendliness in his tone. In fact, his question comes out sounding more like a dare than anything else. “I reckon I’m a little hard of hearing these days.”
Later, you would kick yourself for taking the bait. 
“Ahem.” Clearing your throat, you can’t help but notice the clench of his jaw. “I said that these hips – my hips – could probably stand to miss a meal.” You repeat, giving him your best prim and proper tone. 
Sometimes the facts weren’t up for discussion. 
Moving with a speed that belies his size, Ari manages to wrap one brawny arm around your waist before using his considerable strength to pin you face down against the kitchen table. Shocked by this sudden mistreatment, you open your mouth fully prepared to protest, only to snap it shut the moment you feel a cool breeze ghost across your bare backside. 
“Try again, sweetheart.” The lawman grunts before delivering a hearty smack to your ass, eliciting a rather undignified screech from you. “Oh? I’m afraid I still didn’t quite catch that.” 
“There’s no need to act like a brute!” You cry as you struggle against his impossible hold. “It’s not right for you to–ahh fuck!” You damn near lose it when his heavy palm connects with your traitorous cunt, the sound of the wet slap echoing throughout the room. 
In that very moment, that sweet bite of pain had never felt so good.   
“Ah, sweetness.” Ari coos, a hint of mocking laughter curling around his tone. “Could’ve sworn I’d fucked some sense into you earlier this morning. Are you tellin’ me my work still isn’t done?” 
You think back to something he’d said when he was busy fucking you senseless. He’d said, or snarled as it were, that you needed a Sir or a Daddy to help keep you in line. At the time you’d assumed that he’d simply got caught up in the heat of the moment. But now… 
Apparently it takes you too long to answer because his next smack has you rising on your toes.  You clench your thighs together, desperate to ignore your body’s response. Although it does little to stop your man from wedging a proprietary hand between them anyway.
“Now is not the time to go quiet on me, little Bird.”
He gently cups your most intimate flesh before expertly parting your messy folds with his thick fingers. A soft cry escapes when he lightly pinches your swollen clit, making your hips buck. 
Sweet Christ! You honestly had no idea just how much you actually enjoyed being manhandled until you crossed paths with this guy. 
“All I was trying to do was answer your question!” You grit out, doing your best to ignore the filthy wet squelch of his palm colliding against your core once more, causing a fresh wave of arousal to dampen your thighs.  
“And I didn’t much care for your answer.” Ari hums, taking a moment to lazily pet your now glistening cunt. 
And who’s fault was that? Just because the man thought he owned the rights to your body didn’t give him the authority to…to…punish you like this. But when you inform him of that, the only response you get comes in the form of an annoying chuckle. 
“I was joking, damn you – ooh!” You whine, stomping your foot for good measure – both of which manages to earn you another spank. 
“But that’s just it, baby.” He rumbles, taking a break from further abusing your poor, overworked flesh. “Last I checked, jokes were supposed to be funny.” You press your face against the cool surface of the table as two sinful fingers playfully tease your entrance. “And talking shit about these curves ain’t funny, right?”
“Y-yes! I mean right.” In need of a little relief, you attempt to entice your man by wiggling your ass. But instead of doing as you bid, those same fingers soon find their way back to your swollen bundle of nerves, pinching just hard enough to get and hold your attention.
“Glad you think so.” He murmurs, leaning down to brush his lips along the sensitive shell of your ear as his free hand moves to rub soothing circles along your lower back. “And since I’ve finally got you in the mood to listen, how about we talk about something else?” 
Instead of responding, you merely nod – giving him leave to get whatever the hell he wanted off of his perfectly sculpted chest.  
“The next time you get the bright idea to shut me out without givin’ me a chance to plead my case, you had better do a damned good job respecting this gorgeous body while I’m on ice.” The air of danger in Ari’s husky purr has goosebumps rippling along your heated flesh. “Because if you don’t, I swear to God the moment you let me back in, I’m gonna do a lot more than spank this pretty pussy. You get me?”
Still unable to form words, you decide to let your body do the talking. Groaning low in your throat, you arch your hips and wiggle your ass, purposely grinding your cunt against his now drenched palm. 
“Ah, sweetheart.” He rasps in approval, gently nipping your earlobe with his sharp teeth. “You get me. Yeah, you do.” 
As a reward for your submission, Ari takes pity on you by slowly spearing his fingers inside your sopping wet core. Now it’s his turn to groan when he feels your velvety walls flutter around him, eagerly sucking him back in when he tries to pull out. 
“Fuck if my girl ain’t got a greedy fucking pussy.” Your bounty hunter muses, more to himself than to you. “Are you sore? Need me to let you rest some more?” 
In all reality, what he really wanted to do was splay you out on the table and kiss your puffy pussy lips until you were a sobbing, trembling mess. But he’d also settle for burying himself balls deep inside of you too.
Regardless of which one he chose, they both all but guaranteed that you’d remember this particular lesson for days to come. Because no one was allowed to talk shit about his beautiful Bird – not even you.  
“Want you to fill me up again.” You tell him, meaning every word even as his expert touch threatens to rob you of breath. “Help me work up an appetite. Please, Sir.” You tack on the last bit, hoping that might be enough to tip your man over the edge. 
Your now frantic pulse sings to new heights when you’re treated to the sound of Ari’s sweatpants hitting the floor behind you. Apparently he felt that you’d been punished long enough – something for which you were grateful. 
You can’t help but whine when he finally removes his fingers, leaving your empty walls clenching around nothing but air. Anticipation fills you while you wait, expecting to feel the bulbous head of his cock glide its way through your slippery folds. 
However, you’re surprised when he drops to his knees instead. His large, slightly calloused hands grip the backs of your thighs, forcing your legs apart just enough to make his intentions clear. 
“How ‘bout you feed me first, greedy girl?” He growls, possessively nuzzling his nose along the soft skin of your inner thigh. “I have a feeling I’m gonna need all my strength to help your stubborn ass work up a proper appetite.”
“Oo-okaay!” Your legs threaten to give out when Ari’s wide, flat tongue begins lapping at your damp flesh, making a show of savoring your sweet honey. He holds you in place while he feasts, his subtle use of strength letting you know that your only job was to keep still and submit to his sensual assault. 
“Mm...” Ari rumbles, enjoying every desperate little whine and whimper that makes its way past your lips. "Best meal I've had in days." Forgoing his need to breathe, he fully buries his head between your thighs, content to eat you from the back as if he had all the time in the world.
Which he did, especially now that make-up sex was once again back on the menu. 
END
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ma1dita · 8 months
Text
it will pass
part two can be found here -> without a doubt
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words: little under 2k
summary: Without a doubt, James Potter loves you. But he’s not in love with you.
warnings: none! fem!reader; i would die for best friend!james, did not demonize lily; angst, unrequited love, lil childhood speech impediment, cheesy nicknames, sharing clothes, will they wont they (they wont im sorry)
a/n: guess who just rewatched fleabag szn 2! i chose pain today sorry— god i missed writing. i am a words of affirmation gorl pls affirm me
(posted 9/8/23)
There isn’t a single doubt that James Potter loves you.
You’ve been attached at the hip since training broomsticks and pinky swears in Godric’s Hollow. You accidentally call a boy ‘Jam’ once because of your childhood speech apraxia, and he swears you’re meant to be his best friend.
“Don’t worry, I can be loud enough for the both of us, peanut!”
Like peanut butter and jelly, you two were a perfect match– and even better partners in crime. When James puts his mind to something, he sees it through. So even if you were honestly unable to string the words together, who were you to say no?
Technically it’s somewhat official too, by whatever imaginary power was bestowed upon the Potter’s house elf for your very elaborate backyard fantasy wedding the two of you had when you were seven. All of your parents were in attendance, along with your cat and you all had blueberry cupcakes after your first and only kiss.
“Miss Mippy pronounces you huzbind and wife!”
Giggles are heard all around as the tiny elf tripped on her way off the stool, knocking both your heads together. James lost a front tooth that day, but he grinned for the pictures your mothers took anyway. Without a doubt, he loves you.
There wasn’t anyone at Hogwarts who would expect one of you to be present without the other following behind. You never had to hold back your smart mouth because James was always willing to finish your fights. The both of you were a package deal, with your number of protectors growing once Remus, Sirius, and Peter came along. It was not a routine you both consciously established, but rather second nature to be in each other’s lives. Like how you always made sure his glasses were clean before quidditch matches and he’d chuck his extra jersey at your face for you to wear.
“Stay warm during the game okay? I’ll see you later, love you!”
He skated around your waist, blowing a raspberry onto your cheek as he grabbed his glasses from your fingers.
“Don’t fall off your broom. Love you too, loser.” You’re already tugging his jersey over your head, inhaling his signature scent of broom polish, cinnamon, and Sleakeasy’s hair potion.
James smiled at you softly, before running to meet up with his team. After Gryffindor won again, he threw you over his shoulder and you laughed and yelled that he smelled like sweat. He always tucked you in his bed after parties, wrapping you in his arms once the lights go out. Without a doubt, he loves you.
Your friendship is stronger than most romantic relationships, and as your teenage years fly by, both of you realize how rare that is. He often took you to the kitchens to eat vanilla sundaes after boys broke your heart (and they got black eyes to match, courtesy of him and the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team) and you would listen to him, building him up and calming him down through years of pining over a certain Lily Evans. You were there for each other through everything, silly crushes, secret trysts, boring detentions, and highly esteemed accolades. If there ever were such a thing as soulmates, you knew it had to be him, even if it was platonic. Just being around someone as vibrant as James made you consider yourself lucky.
You once saw your best friend with his head in his hands on your way to a date—he was moping after a nasty prank on Snape went wrong; it ended in Lily crying and after defending her albeit quite boisterously in true James fashion, he still didn’t get the girl.
He gets up to see you walking down the corridor to meet him halfway, and before you even speak he rubs his eyes, posture shrinking as his towering frame melts into your embrace.
“Don’t know why I thought it’d be different this time,” he mumbles, and you gladly carry the weight of his heart.
“Let’s go swimming in the Black Lake, ” you say suddenly, rubbing his broad back in small circles.
“But peanut, you have a date in an hour! You’re all dolled up and pretty...”
“I’ll have more dates. You need me right now, jelly. I’ve got you.” His nickname makes you blush a little more than you should sometimes, so you only ever pull it out as a trick up your sleeve to make him feel better.
“Love you,” you whisper, brushing through the hair at the nape of his neck.
He breathes easily for the first time in hours, mouth curling up from its frown when he sees you walk straight into the lake water with your nicest clothes on, not even hesitating for a moment. Without a doubt, he loves you.
When James puts his mind to something, he sees it through. So years later, when your best friend asks you if you could go wedding ring shopping with him to propose to the love of his life, who were you to decline? I mean, who else would go with him?
“Come on, (Y/N). I need my best girl with me to make the biggest decision of my life.” he’s practically moaning, the man ever so dramatic as he’s sprawled across your couch.
“And why aren’t you dragging Sirius with you again?”
Your eyebrow is raised as you stand at his feet, lifting his burly legs for you to place yourself under and get comfortable.
“What does Sirius know about women? He’d tell me to get the shiniest one and leave!” James’ yells into your throw pillow, anguished at the thought. You pull it off his face, before he quietly admits, “I just want to get it right.”
“When are we going?” you answer, without missing a beat.
Later that week, the saleslady recommends a wide array of glimmering engagement bands, none of which are for you. But you let yourself fall into the fantasy of the what-ifs, flashing back to your flower crown and candy ring wedding, wondering if it could’ve been you getting proposed to by him in another life.
“Would you like to try a few on?” the saleslady asks, assuming you two are together.
“Show me and my girl your best. No price limit.” he grins.
And how dare she assume that, as he puts his head on your shoulder, whisking you around the store to look at stunning rings, fingers brushing, and the both of you being able to communicate clearly with no words spoken. James plays along with the saleslady, finally choosing a whimsical-looking diamond setting placed upon your left ring finger. You remind yourself it’s not yours. Your heart comes to a screeching halt and you can’t help but feel all of a sudden like he’s being mean.
After all, he’s not yours, not really.
There is a little bit of doubt now and a weird tightness in your chest that makes you think of the possibility that you’re in love with James Potter.
Like a good best friend, you help him plan his proposal. James’ love is loud, pulling all the stops, and preferring the grandest of gestures.
“James, you are not proposing to Lily with a flash mob.”
“But it would be so cool! After all, my heart dances every time I see her face.” he wiggles his eyebrows as he takes a sip of his butterbeer.
“Your heart might, but you, unfortunately, are the worst dancer I’ve ever seen.” You laugh, reaching over to tug the quill out of his hand, crossing it off his list. He pulls you into a headlock, kissing the side of your face teasingly.
“What would I ever do without you, peanut?”
You wipe James’ spit off your cheek, pushing his face away, blushing from his attention.
“Combust, probably.”
Your heart is dancing now too, and you realize that there isn’t a single doubt that you’re in love with your best friend.
You keep yourself busy in the month before his proposal. It hurt learning too many details, such as what flowers he wanted to order to bring out her eyes (pink and yellow tulips), and scouting out the perfect location on the beach he picked (next to the lighthouse you and him visited as kids), even down to how he’d convince Lily to wear white without being suspicious (honestly he just expected you to do him a favor for this one). But after seeing each other almost every day for more than half your life, he knew something was off when you became distant.
James shows up at your apartment, his key in hand, but he decides to knock anyway. The sound of the TV is muffled, lowering in volume until he hears your footsteps pad over to the door and it swings open. You’re in one of his old Quidditch sweaters and fluffy blue socks.
“Hey. Wasn’t expecting you to come by.” You smile timidly, as he leans against the doorframe peering down at you.
“Never used to have to tell you.”
“James...” you stutter, before awkwardly opening the door completely. He shuffles towards the couch, keeping his shoes on as he sits at the end, and there’s a certain tension in the air that frightens you. You’re not sure if you’ll come out of this one unscathed.
“Talk to me (Y/N). What’s been going on with you? You don’t answer my calls, you don’t write back, hell, I haven’t seen you in a month because you started deadbolting your door. Did I do something?”
Yes, James Potter. Ever so blunt and to the point, your favorite person in the world is sitting on your couch uncomfortable with the fact that you’re not comfortable around him anymore.
You fight back against your instincts to tell him what’s wrong, but the three words escape your mouth before you can even take a breath.
“I love you.”
It’s silent. The floor creaks as you shift your weight onto your other leg. You lock eyes with him for the first time that night, and so many things are going through your head that you hope he’s able to pick up on how you’ve been physically aching, carrying the weight of his love for Lily for years.
James looks like he’s about to shake his head, and you beat him to it. You don’t want pity, and he knows that, but he mutters a consolation into the air.
“It’ll pass.”
No, it won’t. Not this.
You think he knows that too. He smiles sadly, watching you turn shrinking into yourself. You never were good at thinking before you spoke. A tear drips down your cheek as you look at your socks again. Your love for him is too big and too loud for your chest cavity to handle. This love feels like dramatic choral music clashing and banging around in your ribs.
“I’m—”
“Don’t apologize. This one’s on me,” you say, stopping him before he finishes speaking.
Without a doubt, James Potter loves you. But he’s not in love with you.
“What I was going to say...is that I’m going to have to ask you not to show up to the engagement party. It’ll be better for the both of us. We can start again from there if you want... Peanut...”
The term of endearment hangs in the air. Your dancing heart was a ticking time bomb after all. The fragments hit your insides, tearing you apart as it combusts, and you realize that nothing will be the same after this.
James stands abruptly, shoving his hands in his pockets. He hesitates before he kisses your temple, and for some reason, this feels like a goodbye. After all, when James sets his mind on something, he sees it through. He’s been set on Lily for years.
You’re his best friend, he swears. And there are no words you can think of to deny that.
The End
“I don’t know what to say,” he said.
“It’s okay,” she replied. “I know what
we are— and I know what we’re not.”
Lang Leav
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