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anotheranimestan · 4 years ago

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Steamy Nights

Shouta Aizawa steaminess + suggestive language

Please note that y/n is obviously of age in this one

wc: 2.4k

Tell me why I got 🦋 when writing this loll. This man is fineee

Stretched out on Aizawa’s couch, you were waiting for him to get home after another long day of teaching. A little while ago he’d given you a key to his place, which was a big surprise since he values his privacy so much. Since you hadn’t been able to see him for a few days, you figured tonight would be the perfect time to use it. Work was really taxing on him lately and you knew he was stressed. Probably over stressed. To make the most of the night, you decided to set the atmosphere.

The apartment already had Shouta’s personality all over it. Lots of dark furniture and wood. Absolutely no harsh lighting, just a few dim lamps. His walls were scattered with some paintings he’d bought on your art show dates together. Old books and blankets everywhere. His sweet cat usually curled up in her corner.

He had a drawer full of scented candles. Your favorite was the cinnamon one but he claims it’s too sweet for him. Although you highly doubted he’d even notice the difference, he just holds random stubborn opinions sometimes without any good reason behind it. Just wanting things to complain about. Most people found his pessimistic grumpy attitude unattractive but...he’s just moody. An exterior shell. Inside was was soft and sweet.

You’d just finished lighting a few of the cinnamon candles and putting on some of his favorite music in the background when you heard the door click open.

He’s always so light on his feet. Sometimes if you weren’t paying close attention he’d come in and scare the life out of you on accident.

You rounded the corner, excited to see him.

“Hey Eraserhead.”

You always called him by is pro name when he’s in his hero costume. People usually assumed it was out of respect or privacy but he knew the real reason. You were teasing him. You disliked his hero name and his hero outfit. Recalling the day Present Mic convinced him to use it, you’d pestered him relentlessly to put more effort into it. Insisting he’d regret it one day. He said he didn’t care...but now look at him.

“Please y/n, when are you going to stop calling me that?” He said rubbing his eyes. He was low energy as usual.

“After you change it.”

“I can’t change it.”

“Exactly.” You whispered smugly.

He sighed. No matter how many times you had this conversation you would always win. Rightfully but he wouldn’t admit it.

You drifted over to greet him properly. Brushing the hair out of his eyes and placing a sweet lingering kiss on his cheek.

And as for his boring, baggy costume...you understood it’s purpose. He wore it to stand out less, aiding in his fight style. But it was still a pain since you couldn’t properly hug him in it. The capture weapon was always in your face and you could hardly feel his body through the layers.

His modest attire duped most people. Making his tastefully well built body underneath a best kept secret. Which you supposed was an upside. Only you (and Present Mic for some reason) had ever really gotten to see him shirtless.

“I’m going to change.” He said kissing your forehead. He knew exactly what you were thinking.

He reemerged from his room a few minutes later. Wearing a droopy black shirt and sweatpants that were loose around his hips. You could see the dipped lines of his V. Just north was his lightly defined six pack. And just south was unfortunately concealed under black briefs and his untied waistband...

He caught you staring.

Feeling red and exposed you quickly redirected your attention to something else. “So are you hungry babe? I could make something?”

He declined.

“Okay...what about grading assignments. Do you want help to make it go faster?”

Declined again. Apparently he worked straight through lunch to finish that already.

You were beginning to feel useless. You’re supposed to be making him de-stress but it’s like he was so self-sufficient there was no room for you.

You sat next to him on the couch, his arm wrapped around you. You brushed some hair behind his ear. His long dark hair was always messy from his constant naps. Plus, you constantly running your fingers in it doesn’t help that situation. He was quiet. Massaging his temples. You could see the tension on his face. It made your heart twinge with pain. Just then you noticed his ear fully. He had at least six piercings on this one but he wasn’t wearing any of his earrings. Usually he’d put them on when he wasn’t at work but he didn’t tonight. And you knew exactly why.

“Babe. I have an idea.”

“And what’s that?” He played along.

He would take them out when he secretly wanted one of your amazing head massages. You always focus on his ears and temples just like he liked so he’d left out his earrings hoping you’d get the hint. This man could never just ask for something in his life. Luckily you could read him like a book.

“Come on.” You purred. Pulling him with both hands off the couch. He complied wearily.

Aizawa didn’t spend much of the money he made from pro hero work on lavish things. The only times he splurged was to buy you nice gifts. However, you did convince him to purchase one nice thing for himself. You knew he wanted it anyways but was just too stubborn to actually buy it.

A jacuzzi tub. He loves hot baths after a day of dealing with his “problem children” students. It was the only thing that could get his muscles to relax. And the moisture from the steam felt nice on his eyes.

Making sure to bring a candle and the speaker with, you lured him into the bathroom.

“Want to take a bath with me?” You asked sweetly.

“I wouldn’t mind that.” A tiny smile spread on his lips. You were too irresistible to deny.

“Okay you run it and I’ll go get the wine.” You sang excitedly. “But don’t make it so hot. You almost burnt my skin off last time.”

“It felt normal to me.” He said casually.

“Yea because you’re a psychopath.” You quipped before springing to the kitchen.

You guys had two types of favorite wine. One was for your long deep discussions about art and literature. Or when asks for your advice on dealing with his students because he knows he’d just lose his temper and expel them without your ideas. And the other, the pricier and far more potent one, was saved for special moments. Just like these. You poured your glass full, of course, but you filled his to the tippy top. Not only did he need it, but Lord knows tipsy Aizawa was sexy.

When you returned, he was crouched over testing the water temperature. His face gently lit from the soft glow of the candle in the dark room.

“I made sure to cool it off. No psychopaths here.” He teased trying to sound bored. But his voice was noticeably happier than when he’d arrived.

You instructed him to take a few sips of wine, desperate to get that show rolling.

“I know what you’re doing.” He said with an amused little smile. He swapped the cups in your hands so you now claimed the full one.

“Good. So then you should know exactly how to play along.” You said as you switched the glasses back with a wink.

He sighed in defeat. But that rare smile was still adorning his cheeks. He took a few y/n-approved size drinks.

His hair was falling into his eyes again. You set your glass down on the tub edge and pulled him into you. He wrapped his arms around your waist while you pushed his hair back and secured it in a clip.

“I didn’t know you were coming tonight.” He said softly.

“I know. Now that I have a key I wanted to come bother you a bit.”

His eyebrow raised at the word bother.

You panicked slightly. Hoping he wasn’t actually bothered that you’d come uninvited.

“That does sound like you.” He said as he kissed your nose. “I hope you do it more often.”

Your heart spasmed.

“Really? You do?” Your insecurities ears’ perked up.

“Why wouldn’t I want that?” He said in his deep sleepy voice.

A happy little smile broke its way through. You could only shrug in response.

You slipped your hands under his shirt and pulled it up slowly. Dragging your knuckles along the dips and bumps of his abs as you went. Gently you pulled it over his head. He helped by raising his arms which just made the rest of his muscles flex. Your heart started beating a little faster. No matter how many times you saw him he always made you flustered.

Your eyes were glued on him. His tattoos were now completely visible. Another best kept secret. They trailed around his shoulder, back and half his chest. You placed some honeyed kisses on his collar bones as you pulled down his sweatpants and briefs to leave him fully undressed. He was mouthwatering type sexy. The candlelight was highlighting all his high points in the best possible way. The music was perfectly complimenting your emotions and the sleepy eyes staring at you so lovingly were severely compromising your thought process. There were a lot of things you wanted to do with him suddenly but you focused your eyes on the goal here. A relaxing, hot bath.

Bath bath bath.

Reluctantly containing yourself you pried his hands off your waist and nudged him towards the water.

“Okay okay, go on.”

“You’re coming too right?” He said as he grazed your bottom lip with his thumb.

You nodded, butterflies erupting in your tummy.

He laid down in the water and took some more large swigs of wine. His glass was half empty before you’d even taken your first sip. He watched you undress with intent in his eyes, soaking in every curve and dip of you as well. He reached an arm out to you once you’d fully unclothed. He wanted his hands on you immediately.

But you had a goal here. Bath. Massage. Focus.

You slipped in behind him so that he laid between your legs. His broad shoulders nearly covered your whole body when he leaned back against you.

The tub was huge. Easily fit you both and could probably add another person.

“And now for my favorite part.” You announced as you switched the tub on its low setting. The rumbling under the water sending tiny vibrating waves around the whole tub.

Definitely worth spending his money.

Your hands rubbed every inch of him you could reach. His abs, the thick muscular sides of his waist, his biceps. You alternated between hugging his neck whispering cute things in his ear and massaging him.

Of course he was practically falling asleep as you spent time on his ears and temples. His head was heavy against your chest. It was so cute. You loved when he fell asleep on you.

But you knew he was keeping himself awake. He was rubbing your legs and the backs of your thighs. Squeezing and kneading them gently. Placing kisses on your arms and hands whenever he got the chance.

After about 20 minutes and one refresh of hot water, both your glasses were empty. He’d drank most of it since he’d downed the last few sips of yours too.

Wanting to see his handsome face again you shifted and positioned yourself to sit on his lap, thighs wrapped snuggly around his waist. After making sure you were fully comfortable, he leaned back against the tub and closed his eyes. He pulled you close and trailed circles with his fingertips up and down your back under the warm water. He loved the weight of you on him. You both exhaled a deep stress relieving breath.

The steam was working its magic, the rumbling of the jets felt so good massaging your legs. And his heart beat, you could feel it through his chest. It was slow and steady. Making you drowsy off him.

He noticed you were lost in thought, stroking his hair and tracing your fingers along the lines of his tattoo. He took advantage of this time to soak in all your features, watching you under drooping lashes. The flush of your cheeks, the delicate arrangement of your beauty marks. The far off expression on your face, he knew it well. He loved observing you when you were like this. You were beautiful.

“Relaxed yet?” You purred. Starting to tease him with soft kisses.

“Almost there.” He replied before catching you to deepen the kiss. Your soft skin and body heat was melting him away. He wanted more. Using both hands he pressed your back into it.

He savored your lips for a long while, becoming more and more passionate as the seconds ticked by and the wine hit his bloodstream.

You felt him shifting underneath you. Squirming slightly from the pressure that was building up. More butterflies. His hands clamped down around your hips.

“Okay your plan worked.” He smiled into your kiss. Eyes still closed.

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re referring to.”

He tapped his finger against the empty wine glasses.

You started sucking on the sensitive spot under his ear. You knew tipsy Shouta always got turned on by that.

His arms both constricted tightly around your waist. His hips were pressing up into you now with impatience.

“Let’s go to my room.” He concluded. You giggled, causing your lips to vibrate against his sweet spot. You heard the soft moan from deep in his throat.

He stood up keeping you wrapped tightly around him, carrying you with ease.

He half-heartedly patted you both down with a towel, his hand not losing contact with your ass for a second.

Before he could whisk you out of the bathroom you grabbed the speaker and candle again.

The scent wafted into the air around you.

“Mm that smells good.” He said distracted for only a moment before his lips gravitated to your body again.

“Oh really. So you do like it.” You said with the smuggest tone. “You’ll never guess what scent it is Shouta.”

He didn’t reply. Too distracted with kissing your shoulders.

“Cinnamon.” You said with as much sass and emphasis as you could muster.

He paused. Caught. How did you always get him like this?

He pulled back rolling his eyes with a smile. Nose to nose now, you pressed him further with a smirk.

He cocked an eyebrow at you. Looking directly in your eyes he said, “Mhm. Keep this same energy when I take you in there.”

And just like that he’d knocked down your resolve and your whole body started fluttering.

He carried you into his bed and you two “relaxed” for the rest of the night.

😳 the way I want to be y/n.

#aizawa shouta #aizawa imagine #aizawa fluff #aizawa smut #aizawa headcanons #aizawa x you #aizawa x y/n #aizawa x reader #mha aizawa #aizawa sexy #aizawa sensei #aizawa fanart #aizawa fanfiction #aizawa drabble #my hero academia aizawa #aizawa angst #shouta aizawa x reader #mha shouta #shouta fluff

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nctsworld · 3 years ago

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skateboard love

✩‌ yangyang x reader | skater boy!yangyang | college au | fluff | 2.2k

SUMMARY | yangyang tries to get you to skateboard for the first time and in doing so, you’re taken back to when you first met him. // for @notnctu’s beginning collab! WARNINGS | slight injury (reader trips over a curb), one swear word, kissing RATING | teen+ TAGLIST | @infnteen

“I can’t do this,” you mutter, shaking your head in defeat.

The ocean waves clamour nearby as you stare down at the skateboard and concrete pavement beneath your sneakers in frustration.

The weight of your helmet and the wrist guards are blatant in your every movement. Sure, it’s a little embarrassing at your age, but it’d be best to rather be safe than sorry.

Thankfully, they’ve been coming in handy during the times you almost fell and slipped off of your boyfriend’s skateboard. It may have been his idea to try to learn, but you weren’t opposed to it, thinking it’d be easy.

They say things are easier said than done, and now you’re forced to admit skateboarding definitely falls under that list.

“Yes, you can,” Yangyang softly says. Beside you, he gives your hand a gentle squeeze, causing you to peer into his gleaming eyes and bright smile.

Despite the recentness of your relationship, your boyfriend’s patience and encouragement feels like routine, like he’s been by your side for your entire life. His words don’t fall on deaf ears; you parrot his smile and muster a small nod, albeit glancing away shyly.

“Just think about all the times you’ve watched me skate past the library and copy what I did.”

Petulantly, you stick your tongue out. “It wasn’t that often.”

Disbelief reflects back at you in the form of an eyebrow raise.

“Really?”

“Really!”

Around mid-September, in the most modern, glass-structured library on campus, you found a studying area that was perfect for you.

Main floor, nearby the entrance doors for an easy exit when class was about to roll around. A high stool chair that was cushioned comfortably for endless hours of equal parts studying and procrastination. Plugs and desk space galore.

Above all, it was perfect because you had the picturesque view of the boy who always skated every other day around 11:50am towards his next class across the wide stoned boulevard in front of the library.

You noticed him the first few times when you initially sat upstairs. Even from afar and above, your interest was piqued over how coolly he skated past all the students. There were only so many students who biked to their next class, and even less who skateboarded.

And after you decided to sit downstairs for once to finally steal a closer glimpse of him, you were completely smitten upon capturing his handsome features.

Thus, your heart constantly raced in anticipation when 11:50am hit, as students scattered all across campus during this transition period.

With a thumb tucked in his pocket and headphones over his ears to boot, the mystery skater boy often slid past around 11:55am, making your mind wonder where his former class was and where he was going. Was he in Engineering? Arts? Business?

The latter option didn’t seem likely since his style didn’t echo the stereotypical look of the faculty. Dark coloured hoodies and sweaters, bomber jackets, and skinny jeans were his usual choice of fashion, alongside the occasional baseball cap. And on the days he wore his cap backwards, he was truly in his skater element.

No matter, you always swooned with your chin perched atop your fist or resting inside your palm as he passed by. The brief sighting of him easily became the highlight of your day.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t try to look for him in your classes, but to no avail. You had to live with the fact that you’d only get to know him in passing as he skated on by the library.

When the mere hoodies and sweaters were exchanged for heavier, thicker jackets and coats, he still continued to traverse across campus via his unsurprising mode of transportation. You especially admired his dedication on the days filled with rain and wind, wishing there was some way for you to ease his trips to his next class.

All throughout the couple of months, he was consistent in attending that one class.

Except one day.

It was a Friday, about a week or two near finals season. The weather was quite chilly now, but snow wouldn’t be an issue until after winter break and well into the next semester, so there wasn’t any reason for him to not use his skateboard still.

Maybe he was sick at home, you thought. Pouting, you tried not to dwell over the stranger because that’s all what he was.

Someone you didn’t know, someone you only watched from afar. Someone that filled your daydreams, pondering what he’d be like and what’d you two could talk about... but nevertheless a stranger.

Oddly enough, about an hour past noon, someone dragged you out of your thoughts momentarily as they unusually sat nearby your spot.

The unspoken library etiquette was to sit as far away from others for more personal space, especially in the area where you frequented. You tried your best to ignore the shuffling of the person placing their laptop and books onto the elongated wall-length table, feigning laser-focus on your notes.

But a few moments later, you heard a whisper coming from their direction.

“Is this your favourite spot in the library?”

“Hm?” you hummed, dragging your headphones down to your shoulders as you swivelled towards the seated stranger. Air seized in your lungs and your eyebrows shot up.

The gorgeous skater boy glowed with rosy cheeks from the cold air outside, paired with his stunning smile. You realized this was the first time you’ve ever seen him smile—preciously, by the way, with his teeth on full display—and your heart stirred like crazy.

A beat stretched out. Your jaw hung in shock and you blinked blankly. Guess you solved the mystery as to where he was today.

He beamed more intensely at your awe struck and continued to whisper, “I always see you sitting here when I get to my next class.”

“Uhm,” your jaw snapped up, prior to your dry gulp. “What?”

“Yeah,” his deep chuckling tickled your ear. God, of course a smooth voice matched a face like that. “you stare out the window so cutely whenever I pass by the library.”

A record scratched, then you rewound the moment in your head. Not only did he knew you existed but...

Did he just called you cute?

Catching on with awareness over his own words, the skater boy pouted to one side. His cheek jutted out adorably and red seemed to crawl over them, progressing over to the tips of his ears too.

Light giggling from both parties filled the space, with you tucking your hair behind your ear and him tugging on the ends of his sweater paws.

“So, are you skipping class?” you asked, tilting your head curiously.

“Yeah,” he replied, gesturing towards his busy study set-up ahead of him. It was a similar scene to yours—notes layered and layered upon each other, a laptop which displayed more notes, and a few textbooks were open too. “When you need to skip a class to study for another class...”

You nodded sympathetically, pointing a finger to your organized mess to imply the same. “Finals season.”

He nodded as well in unity and you two exchanged another round of smiles.

“I’m Yangyang.”

With that, introductions were made and bits of information were shared. Your hunch was right—he was in Engineering, but he also had some elective labs that were being held in the Science side of campus. Made sense why he had to navigate across campus from one end to the other.

Before the conversation began to get carried away, he issued a small apology. “Sorry, I really shouldn’t be interrupting your studying. I’ll leave you be.”

Admittedly, it caught you off guard. You wanted to pipe up about how he wasn’t interrupting, that you wanted to dive into getting to know him more. You’ve seen him practically almost every day for the last couple of months and you didn’t want to let this chance slip through your fingers.

Yet, at the same time, you begrudgingly knew he was right. You had to study for your upcoming in-class final, so you held your thoughts back and unwillingly turned back to your responsibility at hand.

It was difficult to study with skater boy being in the same vicinity as you—practically an arm’s length away from you—but you eventually tampered down your jitters and honed your attention.

Hours passed. Neither of you really shifted much besides the casual stretching or the much needed break to the bathroom.

Darkness loomed in the winter sky and out of the corner of your eye, you noticed him writing, which he hadn’t done during the time he’d been there.

And then, after an ear-piercing slow rip of paper that echoed in the library, he slid that piece of paper in your direction with one simple question that ignited the spark for the beginning of you and him—

I know we just met, but do you want to go out sometime?

“’Cause if I recall...” Yangyang continues, breaking you away from your bout of reminiscing. He absentmindedly tucks away some loose strands of hair sticking out of your helmet. “You watched me at least since the beginning of last semester—”

“Nu-uh,” you cut in, lying in a childish tone.

“Yuh-huh,” he rebuttals.

Under the warm afternoon sunlight, you two begin to have a staring contest, squinting and playfully seething at one another. When your boyfriend squints harder with a ruffle of his nose, you follow suit. Eventually, you give in with a sigh.

“Okay, fine. Even if I did watch you a lot, it doesn’t mean I can just absorb your skateboarding skills through memory.”

Cockiness fades over his joking exterior as he flashes you a shit-eating grin. “It’s cause you were too busy focusing on my handsome face.”

Becoming second nature for you by now as he’s often like this, you roll your eyes and lightly punch him in the arm, but... he isn’t wrong.

And from your lack of an articulate response, Yangyang knows he’s right.

Sparing you from injuring your pride further, he swings the conversation back to what you were doing here in the first place.

A hand of his steadies you by the bottom of your back. “Balancing feels weird, I know, but you’ll get the hang of it. Let’s try again.”

Releasing a lengthy exhale, your head bounces fervently in hopes that false confidence and your boyfriend’s support can morph into a successful skateboard run.

The careful push he gives you is ample enough to have you ride down the street by yourself. Your body wavers side by side and you fear that you’ll teeter to a stop like all the other times, but somehow, your foot swipes across the pavement, carrying you further down the street.

It’s not fast by any means, but as you persistently execute it, you gain traction and see yourself finally riding without any issues.

“Yangyang, I got it. I got it!” you shriek as you quickly glance back towards him.

He radiates in response and gets lost in you, equally proud that you finally found your balance and basking in how stunning you look as you coast down the beach side street.

However, his trance breaks when he sees you’re about to hit the edge of a street curb.

“Babe, watch ou—”

The scene happens fast. You’re suddenly laying on a patchy part of the grass, with the skateboard by your feet. Yangyang bolts to you, hunching down as he daintily tugs you to sit upward.

“You okay?” he pants nervously.

At first, you nod without a thought since the helmet and wrist guards have saved you from any potential major injuries.

However, your boyfriend’s eyes widen when out of nowhere, you draw in air between clenched teeth. Your butt feels as if it’s on fire, since it was actually the body part that mostly broke your fall.

He suggests to sit here for a while to let the pain dissipate, reassuring you’ll be fine from his own past experiences.

As you rest awkwardly beside him on the grass, placing weight on your hip rather than your rear end, he aids you in ridding of your safety gear. Once they’re off, he kisses your hand tenderly.

“Maybe we should leave the skateboarding to me, for now,” he mumbles softly into your skin, leaving another kiss upon your hand.

You mope in agreement. “Maybe so...”

Caressed in his arms, you link eyes with him. Your eyes flutter to a close while he delicately eases you into him by the back of your neck.

The intense pressing of his lips against yours feels heavenly, almost entirely sedating your mild pain. He kisses you deeper, disregarding everyone and everything in proximity. You reciprocate it all back eagerly, cupping his cheek and gripping onto his strong frame as you do so.

Peeling away breathlessly, you tip your forehead against his. “Should we go back to the library and have me watch you longingly from our old spot?”

Yangyang hurriedly shakes his head.

“Nope. Never again,” he replies, his thumb stroking your cheek. “If you’re watching me skateboard, you’ll be doing it by my side from now on, beautiful.”

A chuckle trickles from you. You’re about to retort back, but your one and only skater boy diverts your train of thought, dragging you in for another long, blissful kiss.

#yangyang x reader #yangyang fluff #yangyang fanfic #yangyang imagines #nct fluff #nct imagines #nct fanfic #wayv fluff #wayv imagines #wayv fanfic #yn brainrot #beginningscollab

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meltwonu · 4 years ago

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| 𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔩 𝔦 𝔪𝔢𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲 | [CHAPTER 4]

pairing; fratboy!wonwoo x reader

this chapter’s notes; fratboy!wonwoo, fingering, littlest bit of dirty talk, praise!kink, soft soft soft FLUFF hours, a bit of a filler chapter before the last chapter!! 😭 I can’t believe it’s almost ‘over’... This chapter has the least amount of smut yall will ever see with fratboy!wonwoo so don’t get used to it ☠️ LMAO 🤣🤣 also... it’s been a garbage week(boring work drama) for me so I’ll answer inbox msgs and stuff on sunday, I need to get away from the internet(and people) for a day dkfjhskh 😭💕 Ya’ll thank you for so much love and support with Caffeine and Until I Met You! It means so much to me and I appreciate every like, reblog and comment I get on it 🥺💕 No I will never be ending my fratboy!wonwoo au so don’t worry about that hehe 💕 For now, enjoy this soft ch 4 and I will see yall on Sunday! I love you, have a great weekend! 💕

[mood for this chapter: more than enough - alina baraz]

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - x

“So…”

Wonwoo sighs - re-shelving another Edgar Allen Poe book. “So, what?”

Mingyu tilts his sunglasses down, eyebrows raised at the older male that continues to do his job instead of give him the time of day. “What’s going on with you, hyung? You’ve been… weird.”

“Okay, define weird.”

The younger male pouts as he takes his sunglasses off, pocketing them as he leans up against the bookshelf that Wonwoo is currently still shelving.

It only takes one utterance of your name for Wonwoo to stop in his tracks - fingertips on the spine of another book as he turns to Mingyu. “What about her? Did she say something to you?”

“No, but do you like her? I mean, ‘like’ like her.”

“Is it not… obvious? That I do? Did we not all collectively have that conversation about me giving her a set of keys to our house?”

Mingyu grimaces slightly as he mentally goes through all the times he’d even seen the two of you together and he’s only able to conjure up a few select memories - none of which were anything necessarily romantic. “Well… I wouldn’t say ‘obvious’, I guess. The two of you aren’t exactly the ‘kiss and hold hands in public’ kind of... people. More like the, ‘sneak off to fuck in a public restroom’ kind... Which, uh, isn’t really... romantic.”

This time, Wonwoo crosses his arms and leans up against the opposite bookshelf as he sighs.

It’d been a few days since he’d seen you and you’d been swamped in so much class work that you didn’t even have the time to come by the library or the frat house. And even while Wonwoo stood in between the bookshelves having a conversation with Mingyu, you were finishing an art project with Minghao that was due by the end of the day.

“I know. I told her it’d be kind of a slow crawl for me.” He plucks another book from the cart, staring at the glossy text as he simmers in his thoughts. “Mingyu, am I awkward?”

“Erm, well, I wouldn’t say that necessarily.”

Mingyu steps forward, patting Wonwoo on the shoulder as he smiles.

“You like her and you’re trying even if you’re not used to it. You gotta start somewhere, hyung. Even if you’re a fish out of water. But that’s okay, you can ask me for help if you want!”

“When are you gonna put a ring on Wonwoo-hyung?”

You snort at Minghao’s question - reaching for a clean paintbrush as he stands across from you in the large, empty studio. “First of all, can you not say it like that? I’m not gonna marry him, okay.”

The male rolls his eyes as he steps closer to you; his own hands and clothes covered in a colorful array of paints. “So you’re saying you never imagined hyung in a suit, hair slicked back and his buff arms carrying you off into your honeymoon?”

“W--wh--n--no! No, I haven’t!” You avoid his piercing stare as you focus on your end of the large canvas instead.

No, but I dreamt about it once.

“‘Hao, would you hurry! We’re supposed to be collaborating on this and it looks… like it’s 5 different art styles.”

“Don’t change the subject on me. And anyway, I like what you’re doing to hyung. Breaking him out of his shell, y’know? He’s just shy, that’s all. Needs a little work in the bold department.”

You bite down the urge to laugh because to you, Wonwoo was everything but shy when it came to the bedroom. Although, Minghao was right with everything else. “Yeah, I know. We went for breakfast together after I, um, stayed over a few nights ago and he kinda just sat there zoned out, picking at his waffles. He’s really cute when he wakes up in the morning though. Pouty and whiny.”

Grinning at Minghao, he pretends to gag in response before taking a seat next to you.

“Disgusting. Tell me more.”

Wonwoo makes an effort to check in with you throughout the day before he heads back to his room - asking you if you’d had your meals and if you’d finished your project on time.

You’d answered sporadically as you and Minghao raced to finish.

‘I’ll eat late probably… rly gotta finish or else my ass is failing lol’

‘Just don’t forget, okay? It’s not good for you to skip.’

Wonwoo lays down in his bed; yawning as he sets his phone onto the nightstand next to himself.

His eyelids feel heavy and he’s quick to give in to the tiredness that takes over him once he gets comfortable.

When Wonwoo finally decides to shift during his nap, he finds it difficult and extra warm.

“Mmh…”

His bleary eyes adjust to the, now, slightly darkened room as he makes out your figure tucked underneath his arm. He calls your name softly - waking you up from the nap that you’d apparently joined him in.

“Mmh… Wonwoo…” You snuggle in deeper, voice still laced with sleep. “You didn’t even budge when I came in…”

He chuckles softly as he readjusts to spoon you from behind instead; his strong arm wrapped around your waist to keep your body flush against his own.

“I’m surprised you came by, sweetheart. I would’ve just stayed awake had I known you were coming over.” His voice is groggy and laced with sleep as you sigh softly in return as you blink away the sleepiness.

“How was your day at the library? Miss me yet?” Wonwoo smiles into your shoulder before he tilts his head up to kiss the shell of your ear.

“Always, sweetheart. Although, Mingyu decided to keep me busy today.”

“Oh? Anything fun?”

He plays with the hem of your shirt, “Well… Fun isn’t the word I’d use to describe what that was. Nosy was more like it.”

This time you can’t help but snort in response. “You too? I think some people were being ‘lil moles today.”

“Wouldn’t doubt it. Did you end up just coming back here with Minghao from the studio?”

“Wasn’t planning on it, to be honest but… S’been a rough day.” Placing your hand over his arm, you squeeze slightly as you pull his arm around you tighter. “Our professor came by while we were working in the studio and said our project wasn’t up to par with what Minghao and I usually submit for projects. She didn’t fail us on the spot but she said we need to redo it for less credit or take the failing grade.”

Wonwoo nuzzles your neck; peppering small kisses on your clothed shoulder. “I take it the two of you are going to redo it?”

“Mm… We spent so long coming up with a concept and now we’re both stressed about coming up with something new. I walked over here with ‘Hao and he locked himself up in his room as soon as we got here. Figured I’d come hang out with you and found you napping… With your glasses on, no less.”

The two of you share a laugh; Wonwoo’s embrace making you feel more at ease.

“Can I help you de-stress a little, sweetheart?”

You stare at the opposite wall, nodding gently as Wonwoo’s hand leaves the hem of your shirt in favour of the waistband of your shorts.

“Just want you to feel good,” he whispers. “You deserve it. You’ve been working so hard, baby.”

He teases you softly; fingertips ghosting across your skin as you shiver. “Ah, Wonwoo…”

“You worked extra hard today too, didn’t you? I’m so proud of you for what you accomplished today.”

Your body heats up at his praise and you can’t deny that his deep, soft voice sends thrums of arousal pouring over your body just as he dips his hand into your lounge shorts. He touches you over your panties - fingertips ghosting against your mound as you moan his name shakily in return.

“I know your new idea is going to be great, baby. I believe in you.”

Soft whines threaten to spill as Wonwoo strokes you over your panties - slowly working you up as you find yourself trying to grind against his hand. “Y-yeah… ‘m p-pretty sure ‘Hao’s already working on it…”

Your voice is barely above a whisper as Wonwoo continues to stroke you gently; making no efforts to rush or add pressure to his feather-light touches.

A disappointed noise falls from your lips when he starts to pull his hand out of your shorts but it quickly turns into a content sigh when he starts teasing your chest instead.

“Mm, so soft…” Muttering against your shoulder, his eyes stare off into the dark room as he massages your body. “And all mine~”

You hum in response, “We should go on a date sometime…”

“You want to? We can go this weekend. After you’ve redone some of your project. I’ll take you somewhere nice for a job well done.”

You giggle softly; images of a wedding day’s Wonwoo dancing in your mind after the conversation you’d had with Minghao earlier. “I’d like that. We should do something for the whole day.”

“Whatever you’d like, baby.”

Wonwoo’s hand flits down your body again - snaking into your shorts and, this time, into your panties as you whine. “Do you wanna cum or go back to sleep, hmm?”

You ponder it for a second as the drowsiness equates the urge to cum on his fingers.

“Both? I wanna cum and then sleep a little more... If that’s okay?”

Wonwoo hums in agreement as his fingertips drag through your folds - collecting the wetness on them before he teases your soaked hole. “Only a little teasing gets you this wet, hmm? So cute.”

“Ah, f-feels good when you go slow t-too...”

He stores that away in his head for later; chuckling against your shoulder as he slowly starts to dip his middle finger into your cunt.

You feel warm and content when he starts a slow pace - thumb on your clit rubbing soft, slow circles while he pumps his finger into you.

“O-oh, Wonwoo...”

“You’re always good for me, baby. Always such a good girl.”

“Ah, Wonwoo...”

“You can cum whenever you want. You deserve it.”

He adds his index finger - thrusting both fingers into you as you mewl and arch away from his warm chest. Your toes curl and your thighs clamp and trap his hand between your legs as you start to grind down onto his nimble fingers.

“...W--Wonwoo...”

“That’s right, baby. Call my name, let me hear your pretty voice when your cumming for me.”

You turn your head - cries muffled into his pillow because despite his slower than usual pace, you find yourself already on the brink of cumming with his fingers knuckle deep inside of you and his thumb on your clit.

“Mmh... Ah... Feels s-so warm... and g-good...” You mutter, eyes blinking drowsily. “Gonna c-cum...”

He doesn’t say anything in return as he focuses on you and your pleasure; fingers scissoring and curling right into your g-spot as you clamp down onto them in a vice grip.

Wonwoo knows when you’re about to cum when he feels your hand coming down on his forearm, holding onto him for dear life when your orgasm still hits you just as hard.

“Ngh, Wo---Wonwoo!”

Your walls flutter around his fingers and make it harder for him to thrust them in and out with how tight you get.

“That’s my good girl. Cum for me, baby~”

His deep voice makes you whine - nails digging into his arm and body trembling as the pleasure steadily washes over you.

“Ah, bet your face is so pretty right now too~”

“Mmh, s-stop...” Your cheeks burn in slight embarrassment from his constant praise but you can’t deny the way it goes straight to your core and only prolongs your orgasm.

“Don’t be so shy, baby. It’s only you and me here.”

Wonwoo leans away slightly to kiss the crown of your head - still working you through your orgasm as you sigh contentedly in his arms.

Various thoughts run through his head in the moment, but the one that sits at the forefront of his mind is definitely how to make sure he kept treating you right.

Starting with your date that he would spend time meticulously planning.

‘Ah, I should ask Mingyu for some advice.’

#wonwoo smut #wonwoo fluff #seventeen smut #svt smut #seventeen fluff #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo imagines #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios #svt imagines #wonwoo fic #wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #uimy_meltwonu

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qitwrites · 3 years ago

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⬅ Previous || 11 || Next ➡

The hoodie incident begins with Kaminari, as most absentminded things do in the dorm.

It’s a cold Saturday morning, and Kaminari can’t find his hoodie anywhere. He briefly looks through his room, the common room, the dishwasher (because it’s happened before and no, he would not like to comment), and the courtyard before deciding he’s probably lost it. Just as he starts to make his way back, with plans to stop by Ashido’s or Kirishima’s room for a spare jacket, the jingle of a machine stops him in his tracks.

It’s the sound of a dryer that’s completed its cycle.

Kaminari doesn’t remember the last time he did his laundry but decides its worth a look anyway. He ventures into the laundry room, and when he sees the familiar shade of yellow, slightly worn out and well-loved but vibrant yellow nonetheless, he picks it up from the basket and beams.

‘How did you get here?’ he muses and puts it on with a satisfied sigh. He doesn’t question why the hoodie is so warm, or why it smells like fresh detergent, or how it’s way too big in pretty much every single way. He just decides that it’s his and leaves for his room.

Satou, for the life of him, cannot find his yellow hoodie.

It was in the laundry basket when he’d left to go grab a glass of water, and it’s gone by the time he gets back. It’s a whole ass mystery honestly.

It’s too cold to be without a hoodie, so Satou decides to borrow one from Kouda for the time being, and figure it out later. Kouda hands him a purple one with chewed up drawstrings and a front pouch pocket that sheds lint, and Satou gives him a huge grin as thanks.

This works out fine for everyone so far, but then Kouda drops some milk on his only other hoodie an hour later, and he can’t ask for the one he gave Satou back because Satou hasn’t found his either. So, Kouda just goes to Shoji and asks if he has any jackets to spare. Shoji, ever the minimalist, has a limited collection of clothes, but there is a sleeveless jacket, dark and warm, on a hanger in his closet that he happily hands over to Kouda.

Shoji is a pretty warm-blooded person, but the day is quite cold. When Tokoyami sees him shiver once, almost imperceptibly, he goes to his closet and pulls out a sleeveless moto jacket, dark as midnight and lined with faux fur. It isn’t really Shoji’s style, but he appreciates the gesture and shrugs it on. It’s warm and smells like nothing, and they go back to watching a YouTube documentary on Tokoyami’s floor, with Dark Shadow curled up nearby.

Dark shadow has the biggest soft spot for Tsuyu, so when Tokoyami is in the common room chatting with Iida and Ojiro later in the day, Dark Shadow sneaks off towards Tsuyu and tells her Tokoyami is feeling a bit cold, and happily takes the offered green jacket. He hides it away from Tokoyami the best he can.

Tsuyu, with her frog like disposition, does not do well with the cold. In fact, it’s one of her biggest vices, so the minute her jacket is gone, she feels herself seize up. Jirou walks by a few minutes later to see Tsuyu curled up on the couch, not moving and dressed too lightly.

‘Tsuyu,’ she shouts, rushing towards the green haired girl while pulling her hoodie off. She gently nudges Tsuyu into the material of her maroon hoodie, and Tsuyu finally exhales, warmth seeping into her extremities. She gives Jirou a happy smile.

‘Thank you,’ she croaks, and Jirou pats her head before plopping down on the couch next to her.

Jirou feels the cold soon enough, even as she snuggles into Tsuyu, but she doesn’t want to go to her room and pull on another jacket. She’s having fun watching a music concert on TV while others talk in the space around them. It’s homely, and she’s scared of breaking the moment by leaving, because they don’t get moments like this very often. Moments where everything is normal, or as close to normal as they can get, and the air is calm and the dust settles in random pools of sunlight streaming in through the floor-to-ceiling windows lining the hall. So she just sits and waits.

Bakugou shows up 45 minutes into the concert, a black and orange hoodie draped over his arm. He leaves it on the couch next to Jirou as he walks over to the kitchen to refill his bottle, and because Jirou lives to irritate the ever-loving shit out of Bakugou, she simply picks the hoodie up and pulls it on. The material is soft and cool and smells of fabric softener. The sleeves are more worn out than the rest of the hoodie, tiny holes and jagged corners littering the cloth sporadically. Tsuyu gives Jirou a nod of approval, and she returns it with a cocky smirk of her own.

Bakugou takes one look at the back of the couch, one look at the girls, one more look at the back of the couch before he snarls, exploding the bottle in his hands and spraying water everywhere.

‘I’ll KILL you.’

‘Try me,’ Jirou taunts drily, not moving her eyes from the screen. Tsuyu protectively curls into her, and the two slump lower into the couch.

Bakugou takes one step towards them when Kirishima, sunshine Kirishima, Bakugou tamer Kirishima, the lord and savior Kirishima steps into the room, takes one look at Bakugou’s expression, another at Jirou’s frame covered in black and orange before shrugging off his green hoodie and stuffing it over Bakugou’s head, wrestling him into it. The blonde yells and kicks the whole time but lets it happen because Kirishima’s hoodie is warm, slightly oversized, ridiculously comfortable and smells safe.

‘You’re going to train right?’ Kirishima asks with a wide grin. ‘Let me come with ya! I’ll let you beat me up as much as you’d like.’

Bakugou snarls in Jirou’s direction one more time but surprisingly relents, pulling Kirishima away by the collar of his shirt.

‘Clean that shit up,’ he shouts over his shoulder at Jirou, referring to the exploded water bottle in the middle of the room.

‘Ok mom,’ she shouts back, and sniggers at the yells of fuck you and shitty hair let me go I will end her. Messing with Bakugou is the best. She waits for the hour mark to pass on the concert before getting up to find a mop and a dustpan.

Kirishima and Bakugou train for upwards of 2 hours, oscillating between working their quirks till their bodies ache and sparring without their quirks to strengthen their bodies. Their fights look like they’re dancing, so attuned are they to each other’s movements, so familiar with each other’s fighting styles, it’s almost art. Bakugou is faster, more agile, and hits where it hurts, but Kirishima is an immovable, unbreakable wall, taking hit after hit and pushing back, standing strong, giving as good as he gets.

They’re drenched in sweat by the end of it, and Bakugou pulls on the green hoodie as the cold seeps in, giving Kirishima a feral smile.

‘Shouldn’t have let ears steal mine,’ he smirks, before sauntering over to the vending machine to get himself a hot drink. Kirishima just shrugs with a smile, and lays down on the ground, slowly stretching out his hamstrings. He’s always run a bit warm, so the cold isn’t anything unbearable, and he doesn’t mind Bakugou wearing his hoodie. The blonde doesn’t do well in the cold at all, so he’s a lot more manageable when he’s warmed up.

Kirishima twists to the side and something under one of the exercise mats catches his eye. He rolls over to it and picks it up and finds an off-white jacket roughly in his size. He feels like he’s seen it before, so he just shrugs and pulls it on. It’s a nice thick material, and fits just right, maybe erring on the side of tight around his shoulders. Bakugou comes back, cocks his eyebrow at the jacket but doesn’t say anything.

He throws a drink at Kirishima and starts walking back to the dorms. Kirishima smiles at the warm coffee in his hands and runs to catch up, launching into a story about a kitten, a tree, and a stupid idea.

‘Can we drop by the gym? I think I left my jacket there,’ Ojiro says to Tenya as they walk towards the main entrance. Tenya had expressed his desire to go out for a walk, and Ojiro, who’d been in earshot, had decided to tag along, having felt cooped up from sitting inside the dorm building all day. Iida agrees enthusiastically and they begin walking to the gym, passing Kirishima and Bakugou on the way.

It isn’t until Kirishima is out of earshot that Ojiro realizes the guy is wearing his jacket, and when he watches the red head walk into the dorm, he decides he doesn’t really mind. He didn’t want the jacket back cause he’s feeling cold per se, he just wanted to make sure he got it back. He can pick it up from Kirishima later he decides.

‘On second thought, I think I’ll look for it later,’ Ojiro murmurs, and Iida shoots him a confused look. They start moving away from the gym, heading down a well-worn path often traversed by the students and talk about upcoming hero movies and its easy and fun and the sun is bright not harsh. It’s a perfect day for a walk.

Iida and Ojiro get surprisingly into their conversation that they don’t even notice someone is yelling at them and when the earth just sort of vanishes beneath Ojiro’s feet, he yelps out loud.

He looks over to see Iida’s eyes widened in surprise and then there’s black tendrils wrapping around their hips as they’re yanked back. Looking down, Ojiro’s stomach whoops at the wide chasm, as if at the edge of a cliff. He might’ve been super invested in his conversation with Iida, but there’s no way they missed the edge of a cliff, right? Also, was there always a cliff here? What the hell?

‘Guys.’ They look up to see Midoriya standing there, pulling them up with his black whip. He’s like a guardian angel, but he’s still not great with it so when he yanks them up, they land pretty hard on their sides, and Ojiro lands in a mysterious puddle of water, effectively soaked to the bone.

‘Oh, I’m so sorry,’ Midoriya gushes, rushing towards them. ‘Shit, I didn’t mean to put you guys down so hard, are you alright?’

Iida gets up, fortunate enough to not have landed in a puddle of water and straightens his glasses. ‘What is going on? Where did this cliff come from?’

Midoriya shrugs. ‘The land seems to be giving out weirdly. I was out here doing some strength training and the land just crumbled away. It reappears after some time. Also, it’s not a cliff.’ He points at the spot he just pulled them from. ‘Seems like a quirk, some kind of illusion one. The land had given away and the fall is steep, but it’s not a cliff. Just looks like one.’

Ojiro’s head spins with the random assortment of info, but he has more pressing problems to deal with. His soaked shirt is making him shiver, and it feels icky against his skin.

‘Oh, you must be cold,’ Midoriya notices immediately, and before Ojiro can say he’s fine, Midoriya shrugs off his All might hoodie and holds it out for Ojiro. ‘You can pull your shirt off and use this for now! It’ll suck if you get sick.’

Ojiro almost says he’s ok, but he’s getting colder and colder and the hoodie looks so warm and inviting so he decides screw it and peels his shirt off, shuddering when the cold air nips at his skin. He quickly tries to brush off any stray droplets before tugging on the hoodie, and sighs at the warmth he’s enveloped in. Midoriya is like a furnace apparently, and it’s wonderful. He gives the green-haired man a warm smile.

‘Thanks man.’

‘No problem!’ Midoriya says. ‘I think I’ll go back to the dorms and give everyone a heads up about this, maybe tell Aizawa-sensei as well. Will you guys be ok?’

‘We will be fine,’ Iida says, hands rigidly gesticulating in the space between them. ‘Ojiro and I will survey the land around and see if there’s anything we’re missing. We will be careful, so do not worry about us Midoriya.’

Midoriya flashes them an easy smile and with a wave, he makes his way back to the dorm.

Midoriya loves that hoodie, an old All Might piece that’s a tad big for him but warm, warmer than most of his clothes. He’ll ask Ojiro for it later he decides, slowly trekking back to the dorms. The whole floor giving away and light playing tricks business seemed more silly than villainous, but anyway, it made sense to bring a teacher into the loop to deal with it accordingly.

As he walks back to the dorms, the sweat on his body cools and chills him to the bone, and Midoriya misses his All Might sweater with a vengeance. Rubbing his hands along his arms, Midoriya picks up the pace and sighs in relief when the dorms come into view. He’s maybe 150 meters away when a familiar voice calls out to him.

‘Midoriya.’

Todoroki looks comfy and fashionable in a beige coat, a white shirt, and trousers paired with semi-formal shoes. Midoriya puts it together and realizes he’s coming back from one of his hospital visits, and gives him a warm, familial smile.

‘Welcome back, Todoroki. What’s up?’

Todoroki nods at him, smile small and hesitant, but there. It’s so much progress from where they started, like he’s thawing and cracking the ice around his soul.

‘Just got back. What are you up to? And why aren’t you wearing a jacket, it’s a bit cold outside, isn’t it?’

For Todoroki, the jacket is more for show than a necessity, considering his temperature quirk. He’d once told Midoriya that by using clothing to regulate his body temp it allows him to conserve energy, but overall it wasn’t too much of an effort for him to regulate himself on the daily. It’s all so fascinating, and Midoriya has like 4 pages worth of notes on this alone.

‘It’s a long story,’ Midoriya laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. He gestures for the dorm entrance. ‘Should we head in?’

Todoroki nods again, and Midoriya starts walking, trying to find things to talk about. He knows Todoroki’s hospital visits leave him feeling a little lost, a little sad, a little drained. He’s deciding between a new hero analysis he did about Sniper and a puppy rescue video he watched on Instagram when a coat is placed over his shoulder, extra warm on the left. He startles at that, turning to look at Todoroki with wide eyes.

Todoroki acts like he’s done nothing and starts the conversation instead. ‘On the way here, in the train, I saw someone wearing a tomato costume. I am confused, to say the least.’

And they don’t speak of the jacket. Midoriya slips his hands through the sleeves, pulling it around himself tightly and laughs at the imagery in his head. Todoroki’s soul thaws a little bit more and they walk to the dorm, contemplating why anyone would be in costume outside of Halloween.

They part ways when Midoriya says he wants to talk to Aizawa, and Todoroki heads to his room in a lighter mood. It seems to be a pretty common occurrence once he talks to Midoriya. Though, if he’s being honest, that seems to be the case with most people that speak to Midoriya, with the exception of Bakugou.

Todoroki settles into his room for the evening, content with just reading his manga and maybe getting some homework done when he hears a knock on his door. Bookmarking his spot in the manga, Todoroki walks to the door and opens it to find a grinning Sero.

‘Hey man, got a minute?’

Todoroki nods, and gestures for Sero to come inside.

His friendship with Sero is strange. It’s strange because it’s effortless. Sero doesn’t push him to talk or open up, he doesn’t question him, doesn’t stare at him because of his dad, doesn’t ask about his scar or his family, doesn’t really say much at all. They share comfortable silences, and Sero shows him new music, new clothes, and new stories. Todoroki, in turn, shares his mangas, advice about training, and his love for Soba.

Sero walks into his room and sits at the low table, placing a cloth bag on it. When Todoroki sits in front of him, he pushes the bag towards him.

‘For you!’

Todoroki’s eyes shoot up in surprise and he carefully opens the bag. Inside he finds a jacket, made from a cloth that is brick red, the material cotton soft and breathable. It’s cut like a short kimono, and the patterns are simple and subtle. It looks very much like the clothing Sero normally wears, kinda bohemian.

‘Mom sent me a care package, and I think I talked about you a lot on the phone, so she included this for you as well! Apparently she found it at a nice boutique or something.’

Todoroki isn’t used to friends, much less gifts from said friends. Something inside his chest shifts, and he hugs the jacket to his chest.

‘Thank you.’ His voice shakes just the slightest bit.

Sero’s laugh is warm. ‘Try it on man! I need to take a picture and send it to my mom or she’ll think I kept it for myself.’

Todoroki pulls the jacket on slowly, and Sero whistles low.

‘Damn, looks so good! The shoulders fit nicely too. Do you like it?’

Todoroki nods. ‘It’s very comfortable. Please tell your mother I said thank you.’

‘Fo sure, fo sure. Can I get a picture?’

Todoroki is awkward as all hell when it comes to pictures, but he agrees, and Sero takes one mercifully quickly. When they both stand up, Sero walks over to him, throws an arm over his shoulder and pulls him close for another picture. Todoroki throws up a peace sign, something he’s seen the others do just to have something to do with his hands.

‘This one’s real nice!’ Sero says, admiring the photo.

‘Send it to me later.’

Sero reaches out for a fistbump that Todoroki returns. ‘Sounds good yo. I’m gonna get going, I’ll catch you later yeah?’

Todoroki nods and with that, Sero leaves his room. Todoroki belatedly realizes that the jacket smells like Sero- like sandalwood and fresh tea. Perhaps his family smells like that. The thought twists that little something in his chest even more.

Tonight is act-like-bakugou-will-only-cook-for-himself-and-eat-the-“leftovers”-that-can-somehow-feed-the-entire-class night and Sero loves to stand by the kitchen isle and contribute with his stellar sense of humor. Watching Bakugou create mini-explosions and scream bloody murder is just a bonus.

When he gets there, the blonde is already working on dinner, clad in a green hoodie that looks a lot like the one Kirishima wears. Sero takes a seat by the kitchen island and pulls his phone out to scroll through some memes when he suddenly finds himself assaulted by a face-full of glitter.

Gasping, Sero leans back in his chair and falls on his ass, the glitter coming with him. He hears shouting and laughing and someone saying You have, and please excuse my French, pretty shitty taste Monsieur and Sero is so confused.

When he pulls the lump of glitter away, he realizes it’s a jacket, a sequined jacket that’s a bright, bright gold. It’s soft in his hands, and the inner lining feels like actual silk.

‘What-‘

‘It’s Aoyama’s,’ Kirishima says, pulling Sero to his feet. ‘I got here right when Bakugou yelled you fucking walking disco ball little shit and Aoyama decided throwing the jacket was the way to go. Clearly,’ Kirishima gestures at him, ‘he missed.’

Sero laughs and holds up the jacket. He turns it in his hand and takes a closer look at the fit and the material. Considering it’s Aoyama, he shouldn’t be surprised, but the jacket is actually the perfect balance between tacky and really, really nice. Sero looks over at the two blondes yelling at each other, Bakugou brandishing a spatula while Aoyama threatens him with his navel laser and Sero just shrugs and pulls the jacket on.

It fits like a dream, comfortable on his bones, the length perfect even on his tall frame. He adjusts the sleeves and is surprised by how deep the pockets on the inside are. When he looks up again, everyone is staring at him.

Sero clears his throat self-consciously. ‘What?’

‘It looks good on you Monsieur,’ Aoyama says with an actual sparkle in his eye.

‘Damn Hanta, looking like a whole-ass meal,’ Kirishima cheers, and even Bakugou has a quirked brow. He gives him a small nod and then snorts, ‘Still looks like a shiny voltorb.’

‘I’ll take the compliment,’ Sero grins, shaking his torso this way and that. The light catches in these fun and trippy ways, and Kirishima playfully shields his eyes. Aoyama bounds over to him and winks. ‘That’s not all.’

He runs his hands up Sero’s arms, and the gold glitter turns to silver, and Kirishima squeals.

‘That’s so cool!’

Sero runs his own hand up the sides and he feels like a child again, and it’s amazing.

He looks at Kirishima. ‘Want to try drawing a penis on the back?’

Kirishima howls, Bakugou throws a spatula at Sero, and Aoyama looks rightfully horrified. He lets Sero take the jacket anyway.

Iida is not happy when he finds Aoyama in a sleeveless jersey when its cold enough to see your breath, so he lectures him for a good 4 minutes before handing over his track suit jacket. Aoyama wears it with a grumble of All my twinkling has died a painful death.

Uraraka drapes her shrug over a napping Iida sprawled across the couch after a long day, belly full of Bakugou’s amazing food. She pulls his glasses off and keeps it on the table, tucks the sleeves against Iida’s body and hopes the make-shift blanket works.

Mina thinks Uraraka’s outfit is missing something and throws a denim jacket on her from her own closet, a cute cropped piece with some artfully placed rips. Uraraka beams at it, digging her hands deep into the front pockets and posing for a picture.

Momo watches this happen and shyly offers her own chunky sweater to Mina, asking her to make an outfit around it. Mina smashes the challenge, and the end result is so good that Momo insists she keep the jacket, claiming she can honestly just make her own, even though they both know she won’t, because, you know, Momo is the most conscientious person ever that actually cares about the economy.

When the night winds down and everyone finds themselves sprawled over the couches and each other, Hagakure follows Uraraka’s example and pulls her bomber jacket off before draping it over Momo and herself, a make-shift blanket. Momo huffs out an amused laugh and pulls the invisible girl closer. The night is cold, but the common space is just warm embers and crackling fires and the smell of smores.

And finally, just before bed, Shinsou decides to tackle the mountain of clothes on his chair. He hangs the jackets, folds the pants and shirts, and rolls up the socks. At the very bottom of the pile is a well-loved, slightly faded but still ridiculously bright yellow hoodie that belongs to the one and only. Shinsou huffs in amusement, and proceeds to pull it on before climbing into bed.

The hoodie incident begins with Kaminari, as most absentminded things do in the dorm.

It doesn’t really end though.

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ryanindustrymen · 4 years ago

Text

Highlights of an interview with Ken Levine my friend just did incoming. It’s paraphrased and I might sound slightly delirious, because I’m tired, and I just made myself listen to this guy’s bullshit for hours.

Bioshock apparently almost got cancelled, because no one expected it would be financially successful. (7:30)

Even Levine himself didn't believe in it, either, and they had to convince him to go through with it.

I wonder who exactly the 'they' in this scenario were; I’d like to have an interview with them.

Levine says he didn’t even read 'Atlas Shrugs' until after publishing the game. (12:41)

All his Ayn Rand - related inspiration apparently came from ‘The Fountainhead’ ??

He says that he got his inspiration for the art style from the cover of the book, as well as the New York Rockefeller Center. (14:28)

Unsurprisingly; Levine’s favorite character is Elizabeth. (16:14)

Around 17:15 there’s this hilarious moment where he awkwardly struggles to remember Daisy Fitzroy and her voice actresses’ name, then just skips her and continues.

Levine was heavily inspired by literary works by Tom Stoppard for the Lutece twins. (19:04)

He also recommends the movie 'Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead', which is based on one of Stoppard's most famous plays.

Levine says that ‘It was fun to write two characters who love each other so much’ (about the Lutece twins) which I am trying not to read too much in to, but also, if we’re talking about familial bonds... the Big Daddies and Little Sisters are right there. (20:34)

Somewhat later he points out a lot of his inspiration comes to him randomly while life is happening.

Like how he came up with the idea of the names 'Big Daddy' and 'Little Sister' during a run with Joe McDonagh (who he named Bill after).

He mentions a Tennessee Williams play from the period Bioshock is in that has a character called Big Daddy as well.

When asked what cut content he’d like to put back into the game, Levine brings up some fun and peaceful moments between Elizabeth and Booker that were in the demo but were cut out due to time restraints. (28:14)

Apparently we have Rob Waters to thank for the nightmarish Boys of Silence and many of Bioshock's other monster designs.

People didn't trust the first voice actor for Atlas enough, so he decided to drop him and (inspired by Tom from the Cohen brothers' Miller's crossing) cast someone with an Irish accent. (47:07)

Levine expresses that a lot of the Bioshock philosophies are based on the Fountainhead, but he had no idea that Ayn Rand was actually politically relevant, as he is not involved in politics at all. (53:28)

This is kind of where I completely lost it ??

How can you -- That’s -- Wh- What?!

Around the 57:35, Levine admits that he knew he wasn't going to be working on any next Bioshock game, so he wanted to ‘wrap everything up neatly’ with Burial at Sea.

He wanted to finish the story of 'what the series is all about', which Levine beliefs is the downstream effect of abuse.

How it just gets passed on and on.

Literally had to pause to rave at @littlebunnysander about this, because I can't believe he's still on this shit!

#25th #December #2020 #December 25th 2020 #bioshock #ken levine #thebioshockhub

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obaby-me · 5 years ago

Text

Your Type

Beelzebub x Reader

He never even had a chance.

Author’s Note: I love me some pining. But also, I love me a happy ending. The quiz that is mentioned in this story can be found here: https://www.buzzfeed.com/javiermoreno/whats-your-actual-type

If there’s anyone who knows anything about attraction, it’s Beelzebub’s older brother, Asmodeus. He’s a natural matchmaker, known to fix up his brothers with dates and hook ups that have always returned rave reviews. So, when Asmo says he can find you the perfect date for Diavolo’s latest inspired event—a homecoming dance—Beel knows that without question, he will.

“First, we need to know your type,” Asmo tells you as he lays out on the living room couch, his legs over laying over top of yours as you sit upright with the latest reading assignment laying forgotten in your open palms.

“I don’t think this is really necessary,” you tell him with a small laugh.

“Oh, but it is! I want you to have the most enjoyable time possible! And as much as I’d love to be the one on your arm, I already made a promise to Solomon to accompany him instead.” Asmo says with a regretful sigh. “He was going to go stag, can you believe it? I couldn’t let him!”

“I don’t think there’s really anything wrong attending an event without a date,” you say thoughtfully. “I’ve certainly done so before.”

“You what!” Asmo gasps.

“Well, sometimes no one asks. But I still want to meet up with some of my friends that will be attending, so I went on my own,” you said with a small shrug.

“Well, you didn’t have me then, and you do now. I’m going to find you a perfect date!” Asmo declares confidently. “Now, type if you please.” He says with a snap of his fingers, demanding an answer.

“I don’t have one,” you tell him, turning a page on your book in an attempt to return to studying.

“Oh, yes you do! Everyone has a type! Some just more loosely defined than others,” Asmo says with a hand wave. “Take Beel for example, he loves someone who can cook and share recipes with him, or someone athletic to swap workout regimens with!” Asmo says as he waves a hand to Beel who sits at your feet, back against the couch. “And he’s a sucker for a tight ass,” he adds with a grin. “Oh, the shorter the better too! He’s got such a kink for-“ Asmo begins.

Beel chokes against the chips he’d been pouring from the bag into his mouth, trying to catch the last remnants that remained in the bag. Though not intended, it was the perfect interruption. A heat blooms on his face as Asmo calls him out on his preferences, and he’s glad you can’t see his face while he’s sitting at your feet, his back against the couch.

Asmo’s right, of course. He does like those things, and he’s been quite happy with the partners Asmo’s previously selected for him when he’s been required to attend other Diavolo events that demand a date.

“Well, if I have a type, I certainly don’t know it,” you say quickly, and Beel silently thanks you for help him save face.

“Well, I have just the thing for that!” Asmo says with delight. He swings his legs over you and over Beel’s head as he stands and quickly leaves to fetch whatever “the thing” is.

There’s a silence that envelops in the room and he can hear you turn a page in your book, indicating that you’ve returned to your studying. “J-just so you know,” Beel begins, “I-I like other things too.” But he can’t quite grasp all the words he wants to say.

He likes your hair, its style and its color.

He likes your eyes, especially when they light up with delight.

He likes the way you smile and how you sound when you laugh.

He likes how you feel in his arms on the rare occasions when he gets to hold you.

He likes the way you spend your time at his side; when he eats, when he works out, when he studies, when he simply lays about with his brother Belphie.

He likes you.

And he’d like to go to the dance with you.

But there’s hardly any time for him to translate his feelings into any proper sentence before Asmo returns, waving a magazine in his hand. He plants himself beside you, cuddled into your side, head leaning on your shoulder as he flips through the pages quickly.

“You can’t be serious,” you tell him with a laugh.

“It’s just the start,” Asmo says with a wave of his hand. “It’s the first read on the general direction I should be going in, and then I consider other things too! Like your interests, and your hard limits, y’know, the basics.”

“Asmo, this date is not going to end with me needing to express any hard limits,” you warn.

“Maybe,” Asmo says with a playful wink, “but what if it becomes something more? What if you hit it off so well, it becomes two dates, then three!”

Beel can feel his brows furrow and his heart feels tight at the very thought.

“Three dates will also not end with me expressing any hard limits,” you say with a laugh. “But I understand what you mean. I’m still not sharing that with you.”

Asmo bites his lip and raises his brows, whispering into your ear gently, “oh, but I do hope someday you will, in one way or another.” Just as quickly as he turns on his flirting, he’s quick to return his attentions to the magazine in his hands. “Anyway, other than the obvious me, let’s get back to finding your type!”

Beel can’t help but take a glance at your face, it’s slightly red but you seem to be laughing Asmo’s suggestion as a mere joke. He wishes he was just as smooth. He wishes he could make your cheeks heat up into that pretty shade.

Quickly he turns back to his textbook, as if he wasn’t hanging on to every word.

“First question! What feature do you fine most attractive? Full lips, sexy eyes, luscious hair, well maintained eyebrows, clear skin, or a bright smile?” Asmo reads.

“Those are the choices?” You ask, finding the options rather ridiculous. “Bright smile.”

“Well, what choice would you choose if it’s not listed here?” Asmo asks curiously.

“No, bright smile is a good one.” You say with a bright smile of your own. Beel can’t help but wonder if you would think the same of his. Certainly his are white, but when he looks at you, he knows that’s not why he considers yours so blindingly wonderful.

“If you were visit any of these mountainous regions, where would you like to visit? The craggy mountains, the witch’s eye, the-“

“You can stop right there on that one,” you say holding a hand up, “I don’t know any of those places.”

“Fine, fine. That one’s pretty unimportant anyway. Now! Describe your personality with one word! Fun, social, deep, reserved, nice, bookish?”

“Nice,” Beel answers for you.

“I’d agree!” Asmo says with a nod. “I didn’t think you were interested, Beel.” Asmo mocks.

Beel doesn’t bother to respond and only holds his textbook up a little higher.

“I don’t think I’m especially nice,” you mutter, though you are flattered.

“What’s an ideal food for you to have on a date? Sushi, tacos, steak, fon-“

“Steak. I know that one, steak.” You say cutting him off with a grin. Asmo gives a laugh but marks it down on to sheet. Beel can’t help but grin. He’ll be keeping that in mind on your next outing to a restaurant with him and Belphie.

“Which personality trait is a total turn off? Dishonesty, selfishness, vanity, cockiness, terrible manners, aloofness?”

For awhile you are silent, mulling over the question. “Dishonesty,” you say slowly. “Being lied to hurts the most.”

Beel can sympathize with that, recalling how his eldest brother Lucifer had lied to him about Belphie’s disappearance for so long. And Lilith, the truth about Lilith hurt him the most. He understands this better than anyone. And so do you. It’s a comfort him to know.

“And finally, what’s better to have in a relationship, a lot of good food, or a lot of good sex?” Asmo asks with a grin.

Beel holds a breath, his fingers suddenly crossing as he holds the textbook tight. Food, he hopes, food. If there’s anything more Beel-like in an answer, it’s this one.

You laugh wildly at the question. “Are those really the two options?” You manage between bouts of laughter. Asmo’s eyebrows flit up and down suggestively.

“Come now, answer the question!”

“Sex, then.” You say as you wipe tears from your eyes.

Beel can feel his heart drop into his stomach. But one question doesn’t mean anything, right? He fits some of the other criteria—probably. He still has a chance.

“Well, well, I’ll be keeping that in mind!” Asmo grins. “And that certainly knocks Beel out of the running,” Asmo teases as he turns to prod his younger brother with his foot.

And Beel doesn’t dare to turn to look at Asmo, or you, the joke hitting him where it hurts the most. But Beel doesn’t think Asmo knows it. He can’t bring himself to be angry at him.

“Let’s see, results here say that what you like is the Creative Type! Expansive mind, expressive, with knowledge of the arts. Brains and creativity are your ultimate turn on.” Asmo reads out, skimming the results. If anyone, it sounds like Satan,” Asmo says with a laugh.

Beel can’t help the way his fingers suddenly grip the book so tightly that he feels the hard cover bend and indent with the force of his grip. The idea of Satan taking you to the dance makes his stomach turn upside down. And his nerves feel like fire.

“Mm,” you hum, non-committal. “Maybe,” you sound unconvinced—but the fact that you’re considering at all makes him feel like he’s dropped a dumbbell over his chest. It was as if you’d rejected him without him having ever gotten the chance to ask.

Unable to bear being in the room any longer, Beel mutters, “I’m hungry.” He shuts his book (as best as it can be considering how he’s unintentionally maimed it).

“I could use a break too,” you say, closing your own book, and standing up. “I think that’s enough for me,” you tell Asmo who looks dejectedly at you.

“Oh, but I haven’t even gotten to follow up with the better questions yet!”

“Later,” you promise him, which seems to light him up.

“Not too much later, dear! I’ll need the time to find you your date after all!” He chides.

You smile and wave but don’t otherwise answer him and follow after Beel, whose plan to get away from you has since failed.

Opening the fridge, he pulls out the many containers which have his name scrawled on sticky notes. Sometimes two or three for one container—for good measure.

“What’re you having today?” you ask him with interest as you peer into the clear glass cases.

But Beel’s not really sure to be quite honest. He’s just pulling everything he can.

“Beel?” You call out to him.

“Hm?” He responds, not once turning to you.

“Beel, are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

There’s a silence as Beel takes the various containers to the multiple microwaves to the end of the long counter on the opposite end of you, the whir of the three machines taking up the room.

“I like other things too,” you echo to him his words from earlier. It seems you had guessed the reason for his somber mood.

“Yeah?” He asks a small dash of hope lingering in his voice, though he still didn’t dare look at you. He could feel himself flush.

“I like you,” you whisper quietly from across the room.

His breath catches in his throat and his heart rate spikes as if he’s run 5 miles. He heard you correctly, right? Right?

He gulps audibly, pausing as he attempts to calm himself. “Yeah?” he asks as he gives you a sideway glance. However, now it seems that you’re the one who can’t seem to look at him. But the red tips of your ears give him all he needs to know.

“Yeah,” you answer back, your voice quiet but resolved.

He’s not sure he’s ever smiled so wide before—his cheeks actually hurt. But he doesn’t mind.

“D-do you have anyone you’re going with to the—”

“No.” He says quickly, turning to face you fully.

There’s a loud screech signaling that his food is finally ready and waiting for him. But his appetite has since dissipated—his stomach too full of butterflies to take anything else in. He ignores them in favor of striding towards you.

“Do you maybe want to—” you ask as you hear his footsteps approaching. You turn to look at him, looking apprehensive.

��Yes.” He says, with a happy nod.

“Like, as a real date,” you clarify quickly.

“Yes.” He confirms, his hand reaching towards you to stroke your cheek. “I’d like that more than anything.” A screech of the microwave reminding him of his meal perfectly attesting to it.

You smile as you lean into his hand, your hands cupping his so gently.

Guess he had a chance after all.

#obey me #obey me beelzebub #beelzebub x reader #fic #mammon may be my first love #but beel's such a close second #he's a good boy #a soft boy #a big boy #mmm #maybe a beel smut someday #maybe sooner than later #we'll see

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lovelyirony · 4 years ago

Note

From the angst list: "I never loved you" with WinterIron if you're up for it? :)

Bucky takes a long look at the screen.

“Why me of all of us? Why can’t Nat do it?”

“You’re the closest to his type, whereas I am not,” Natasha says, looking particularly miffed. “At least, that’s what Bruce said.”

“And I’m the smart one on this team for this one,” Bruce says, sliding his glasses down his nose. “Stark likes tall, dark, and handsome. Also potentially someone who could kill him.”

“I can kill a man! You’ve seen me do it dozens of times!”

“And as satisfying as it is each time, still not who we need,” Bruce says. “You can be part of clean-up.”

“Why exactly are we doing this again?” Bucky asks. “Not saying it’s not necessary, but I’m assuming we can get past security.”

“Ix-nay on that,” Maria says, frowning. “We’re getting Tony out of the weapons distribution game. He’s been selling under the table to a group called Ten Rings, and we need that shut down. Also, his security is impossible to break into. Trust me.”

“Even past government level?”

“Especially past government level,” Bruce says, admiration laced into his voice. “Government level is stupid-easy to hack compared to Stark Industries. Theirs is like breaking into Heaven itself.”

“Or Hell, depending on your outlook,” Maria says.

“If their security is good, then it means I’ve been had,” Bucky says. “I don’t think they’re gonna bypass this face and go ‘oh yeah, perfect for the job,’” Bucky says. “Which, by the way, am I just seducing him or getting a job?”

“Seduction,” Natasha answers. “Bump into him. Disregard his status as a billionaire. He’ll swoon. Rich guys always do.”

“Good to know next time my rent is late,” Clint adds, actually writing it down.

“I have no idea why you always grumble that we never send you on missions when you do this,” Steve says. “But back to the subject.”

The plan is this:

Bucky runs into Tony as he’s out walking. For a billionaire, Tony is surprisingly easy to track down. Maybe it’s because he knows he’s built up a tech empire and if anyone does kidnap him (and they try) his tech quite literally saves him.

They’re theorizing if Bucky is an outlier, a chance encounter, they might have an upper hand.

He’s not sure, but hey. What the hell. Gets him out of the house.

Tony frequents a coffee shop that is unfairly tacky, has lemon-blueberry muffins, and Bucky is ordering an iced latte.

He bumps into Tony, sending him off-balance.

The man is tinier than anticipated.

Bucky all but lunges to make sure his head doesn’t go right into the glass windows.

“Sorry about that,” he says. “Wasn’t thinking that hard, sugar.”

Tony calls all of his friends by pet names. They figured he’d appreciate it.

Judging by the small smile making its way onto his face, he does.

“No harm done, not if I get to see someone as gorgeous as you,” Tony says, all but purring. “I’m a regular here, and I’ve never seen you before.”

“Just moved back to New York,” Bucky supplies smoothly. “Work opportunity.”

He buys Tony a coffee for the trouble.

Buying a man with all the money in the world, coffee.

He gets a number printed in blocky, engineering script on a napkin with a promise to “call for a date, if you want.”

He calls the next day, heart jack-hammering out of control.

It feels awkward to have Steve and Nat right there, egging him on to take him on a simple date.

They go on a picnic. The weather’s nice, Bucky’s nervous, and Tony grinning at him is not helping.

He feels...guilty. He’s pulled undercover work before, hell even gone down the same line of thinking.

But this...this is different. Tony doesn’t seem to even acknowledge that he’s the most well-known person in the world. Sure, there are the signs. Allusions to business, Obadiah Stane “killing” him so to speak, if he doesn’t get a weapon done in time.

Tony Stark is far more different than Bucky had expected. He wears old t-shirts and jeans that have definitely been in his closet for a long time, doesn’t always remember to style his hair, and definitely enjoys having Bucky around.

The terrible thing is that Bucky actually really enjoys the man’s presence. He’s casually affectionate, unaware that Bucky could kill him if he was feeling particularly bored.

Tony tells him about his day. About the little things in life, like that he discovered that he likes a certain kind of creamer or a funny thing Rhodey said.

His friends are guarded, but nice. They don’t trust Bucky, and for good reason.

(After all, Bucky’s just another one in a long list of people that have dated Tony for something.)

And he hates it when his eyes light up because he’s excited to see him, or when Tony pecks him on the cheek when they get to Bucky’s place (and it’s not his place, it’s a safe house that he had to personalize a bit), and just...

“You catching feelings?” Natasha asks.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Good.”

They both know it’s not good.

In order to maintain a cover and not have it blow up in your face, you need to feel a little bit. Or be a hell of an actor.

Bucky’s not the type to be nominated for an Oscar. .

When he’s lying in bed, he remembers that Tony is the one who’s selling under the table. He’s causing needless deaths and it’s a shock to the system.

Because Tony can’t even kill a spider. He gets a napkin and shrieks as he flings it out into the patio garden he has. He coos when he sees a dog walk past the breakfast place they tend to frequent in fair weather.

Tony goes to farmer markets early and buys bouquets and hands out the baked goods to people on his way home.

He complains that he needs a pinstriped suit but nowhere makes it right. He puts his head against Bucky’s shoulder after a long day at work, and is very tactile. He puts Bucky’s hair into buns and is so delicate.

And it all is a lie.

It is a lie when Bucky pushes that one unruly curl out of the way when he kisses Tony on the forehead. It is a lie when he gives him fun space socks and laughs when Tony’s first action is to slide on the wooden floor.

It is a lie when they go to the art museum with hands interlaced and make fun of modern art. When Tony whispers that he loves Michelangelo, and everyone says he should like da Vinci, but he doesn’t. He can’t.

“Michelangelo painted and sculpted what he saw, and that was strength in people,” Tony says. “He used everyday models. He created a sense of pride in creation. And I never forgot that, that pride of creation.”

And Bucky swallows and it’s hard to breathe for a moment because creation is not something he would say.

Obadiah Stane knows about Bucky. He doesn’t approve of him because he is yet another distraction that pulls Tony away from work.

“You’re a golden goose, boy,” he says, putting a hand on Tony’s shoulder.

Bucky can’t help but be uncomfortable in his presence. He calls Tony “boy” and maybe that’s from knowing him from such a young age, but that doesn’t feel like it.

“Well this golden goose likes going on dates with his love,” Tony says, pecking a kiss on Bucky’s cheek. He smiles on instinct.

“Sorry, sir,” Bucky begins. “But he’s only human.”

Stane doesn’t like this Barnes guy. There’s something off about him, something that’s too...close.

He looks into Bucky Barnes.

Had some military service, was MIA. Almost declared KIA until a guy named Captain Rogers brought him back from somewhere in Eastern Europe, somewhere that Stane was familiar with.

He calls two numbers.

One is to inform the military of a surprise cancellation on a weapons demonstration regarding the Jericho missile.

The other is to a man who he hadn’t dined with in quite some time.

“Pierce, how do you feel about lunch on Saturday?”

Alexander Pierce is a man who is quite easy-going. He can do a lunch on Saturday, particularly with Obadiah Stane.

“Good to see an old friend again,” he says, taking his wine glass. “What do I owe an occasion for? Did you finally get Stark to agree to marry one of my nieces?”

“Not quite yet,” Obadiah says, smiling at the waiter. “Could I get the sirloin, medium-well? Thank you so much.”

“I’ll take the grilled salmon,” Pierce says, handing his menu over.

“How are the kids?” Obadiah asks as the waiter’s gone.

“Fine, fine. You know how the younger generation is. Think they know everything when they get to college. Samantha wants free college. Thinks we didn’t pay for anything back in the day.”

Stane laughs.

“They’ll do that, for sure. Tony comes back with all sorts of ideas in his head about medical fees and do-good-community-bullshit.”

Pierce takes another swallow of wine.

“I assume you don’t want to just know about my kids.”

“No, no that’s not all. I need to know how much you know about one James Barnes.”

Pierce stills.

“What do you know about him?”

“Tony has a new...partner,” Obadiah says, “and he goes by Bucky. I saw that he was nearly declared KIA. Can’t imagine that that was satisfactory for you.”

“It still isn’t. You know where he is?”

“I can point you to his apartment.”

“Excellent. Are we splitting the check?”

“I’ll get it, you get the other thing,” Stane says. “And don’t make it too big of a thing, okay? Dramatics aren’t what we need.”

“Got it. Thank you.”

They enjoy the steak and the salmon.

Stane tips absolutely nothing.

What Obadiah doesn’t know but probably should have is that Tony was sleeping over at Bucky’s place.

He would not have sent Pierce there at the time that he did.

He’s lucky that Bucky still remembers how to kill a man and gets out of the bed, knife already in hand.

Tony is clutching the blankets, frozen.

“You...what.”

“Do you have anyone after you to kill you?” Bucky pants.

Another guy comes up, and he’s not even looking at Tony.

Well. Looks like Stane looked into him a little bit.

“Babe, what the fuck is going on?” Tony asks sharply. He’s scrambling to get under the bed, yelping as he finds what is either the handgun or the machete. He thinks he put the handgun on the opposite side.

Tony pops out with the machete.

“I may or may not have not told you some things,” Bucky says, throwing the guy against a wall.

“Like fucking what?”

“I might have been a secret agency’s weapon for at least a year,” Bucky says. “In my defense, I remember nearly none of it except for sometimes.”

“Except for sometimes?!” Tony yells, brandishing the machete.

He’ll have to remember that he has the handgun on the other side.

“Darlin’, I need you to go to the kitchen and grab my cellphone. Call Nat, tell her you need help.”

It’s a whole clusterfuck is what it is. Bucky’s dealing with three different men all in varying states of pain in his apartment, his boyfriend (well, kind of a boyfriend, he doesn’t know he’s not one) is on the front lawn, and Bucky is in his room debating on redecorating tips and panicking.

“Why the fuck would someone send people after you?” Natasha hisses. “Who knows?”

“Stane, most likely,” Bucky says. “Got suspicious. Hated that I would take Tony out for dates.”

“Why, he homophobic?”

“Among other things. I think I cut into Tony’s productivity time.”

“Oh my fucking god, seriously? You took Tony out for ice cream and that’s what did it?”

“Most likely. Rhodes and Potts didn’t suspect a thing. I’m thinking Stane knows Pierce, probably made contact. But it begs the question as to why. Because he could get around my timing.”

“Maybe it’s not Stark who’s selling,” Natasha says, “and that means we’ve wasted a fucking year with this whole shtick.”

Tony is standing outside the door.

“You...so you were exactly like the other ones?”

Bucky’s chest constricts.

“I--I can’t say no.”

“So you never loved me?” Tony asks quietly. “Every single time you got me a present, it was just to lead me away from something else? Every single time you picked me up for brunch, it was an act?”

“Tony--”

“So after all this,” Tony says, gesturing to the framed pictures and the set of drawers that were specifically for him in mind, “you were gonna look me dead in the eyes and say ‘I never loved you’?”

“We thought you were selling weapons under the table,” Natasha explains. “We needed to get close without tripping any alarms.

Tony freezes.

“Well. You did your job. Now I’m getting the hell out of here. And I’m taking the fucking machete.”

Tony tears apart Bucky’s tires on his way out.

That’s fair.

Bucky was not expecting to feel like absolute fucking shit.

Or try to apologize to Tony.

He calls and texts and even shows up to the tower, but Jarvis says if he comes in then he’ll be obliterated to pieces.

“Does it help if I don’t care that I die?” He asks hopefully.

“I do not want to bother our cleaning services with something so trivial, Barnes,” Jarvis says.

Even his AI is mad at him.

Existence is a curse and a prison. He is definitely writing his own eulogy and telling everyone it was Bruce’s fault that he sent him instead of Nat. Nat probably could’ve done it. And not fucked it up and gotten feelings and now feel like drowning to Lana Del Ray.

“You’re so fucking sad,” Sam says, poking Bucky in the leg. “Stop listening to sad shit, I think it’s affecting Bruce. You know how Bruce is when Lorde comes on.”

“Yeah, he gets all mad and tells us we’re disappoints to natural worlds,” Steve calls out. “Bucky, you want a grilled cheese or are you gonna deny yourself a functional dinner and eat two pretzel rods later tonight?”

“Aren’t we out of pretzel rods?” Bucky grumbles back.

“I’m making you a grilled cheese now then. If you don’t eat it I’m going to tell you all about my day, and I had to wait in a really long line at the DMV.”

“Ugh,” Bucky groans. “How is your life sadder than mine at this point?”

“His life isn’t sad, it’s just boring,” Sam answers. “Steve, you’re boring.”

“If I’m so boring, then why the fuck am I still here?” Steve asks. “You never call Bruce boring when he rants about nineteenth century art and elitism.”

“That’s because I’m right and I called Cezanne a ‘punk bitch’ and made it funny,” Bruce says. “You are around for entertainment value and aesthetics only. Also because occasionally you let Sharon visit and I love her.”

Despite his best efforts, Tony is crying on a Friday afternoon at 2:34 p.m. This should not be happening, but it is.

Pepper says he shouldn’t have his desk face the door, it’s kind of sad.

“Just...god I hate that I like him!” Tony exclaims. “I hate that I know he kind of didn’t mean to do this, except he did, but he thought I was a criminal! And I still like him! Even though objectively what he did was bad but I haven’t talked to him!”

“You’re a sad little man,” Pepper says.

“If you call me a ‘little man’ one more time I think I might go unhinged and destroy the fourth floor,” Tony says. “And I know that you store your and Rhodey’s favorite coffee there because they don’t mess with cabinets.”

“You monster.”

Pepper reshuffles her papers.

“Well, while you sign these--and you willl, stop pouting--I’m going to tell you something.”

Tony starts signing.

“While I think that Bucky is questionable at best, I don’t quite think he was there because he wanted something. Other than you in jail, but like. I don’t think even that.”

“Should I be consulting a therapist about this?”

“Probably. Are you going to?”

“I’m me. No.”

Pepper snorts. She gets one signed form back.

“He felt guilty taking your gifts. He liked baking you desserts so when you got back home the house would smell like cookies. You’re not the only one who misses that, by the way.”

“So are you saying I should take him back?”

“At least talk to him. Decide if you want him back or not. Keep in mind he can’t come to family dinner for a hot minute.”

“Understood.”

Bucky gets a text asking about dinner.

He says yes.

Obviously.

They go to a restaurant neither of them know. Tony still passes an old dinner favorite, and remembers that Bucky had hated the fish.

Bucky passes by a breakfast favorite. Or late night favorite.

He remembers making little pyramids of the coffee creamers and Tony figuring out how to get creative with the tin foil for leftovers.

The restaurant has a fucking wait list.

Fifteen minutes.

So they’re standing there and making the most awkward small-talk available because it’s not like you can ask if someone is doing fine after they were attempted to be killed and you also found out they thought you were the criminal mastermind.

At least, you can’t ask it while you’re on a wait list at a restaurant.

They get seated at the bar because Tony is a gigantic pushover and Bucky doesn’t mind bar seats.

They order drinks and then Bucky orders an appetizer and it occurs to Tony that for the first time in a long time, he’ll have to ask to split the checks.

“How have you been doing?” Bucky asks.

How have you been doing. What a fucking sentence. What a damn question.

“Are you asking me how I am doing?” Tony responds. “When I found out that my boyfriend was faking it, my uncle was basically Claudius from Hamlet, and I also have to revamp my company entirely from scratch and fired the most amount of people I think I’ve ever done because of said-tragic-uncle? Oh James, I’m doing just absolutely peachy.”

Oof, James.

Bucky orders a martini.

“For the record, I am very sorry,” Bucky says. “About everything. I shouldn’t have done all that I did, and I probably should’ve just asked you if you were selling weaponry.”

“You think I would’ve told you?”

“Well no, but you’re the worst liar on planet earth,” Bucky says. “You said you liked my cardigan. You never did.”

“It was a monstrosity and you know that,” Tony argues. “I hope you burn it.”

“I’ll let you burn it,” Bucky says.

“Are you serious?”

“Course I am.”

They order from a very nice waitress who most likely has no idea the amount of shit they need to talk about, or the epic level of just...drama.

“How are you doing?” Tony asks, stirring his lemonade. “Still being a weird conman?”

“I usually am not the conman,” Bucky answers. “I’m usually the guy who’s long-distance.”

“What the fuck do you mean long--oh. Oh. Never mind, I don’t wanna know. Nope.”

“Well other than that, I’m fine. You know. Making coffee. Getting up in the morning. All that fun jazz.”

(Tony politely does not mention that all of those activities are not “all that fun jazz.” They are not fun, nor particularly jazzy.)

They sit awkwardly. Tony checks his phone.

“I still like you. And I want to hear your side of things,” Tony says. “I’m...open option.”

“You did not just say open option like you’re a college tour guide.”

“Get to the point,” Tony says.

“We thought you were the one double-dealing under the table,” Bucky says. “So we decided that I would go in. We couldn’t surpass your security, Jarvis is too good.”

“He’ll be glad to hear that.”

(This is because Jarvis is a Smug Bastard. Just like his dad.)

“And so I was introduced to you. Bumped into you completely by accident, or so it seemed. Sincerely didn’t mean to drop coffee.”

“Okay.”

“I was to get to know you in a way that didn’t involve anything with the company so that there wouldn’t be added security measures. You vetted me as a romantic interest, not a threat. You didn’t do deep digging.”

“Good to know,” Tony murmurs. “I did it after all of...that. You have an impressively mysterious background, Bucky.”

“I tried my hardest,” Bucky says.

“Continue with your story.”

“Somewhere along the line, I started...well I was conflicted. Because Tony, I don’t mean this as a way to sugarcoat, but you are genuinely one of the best people I’ve ever had in my life.

And I just...I couldn’t stop hurting myself every single time I saw you because I thought you were this person who put profit over people, and then you weren’t. And I completely fucked that up. And I was a terrible person who manipulated you. That wasn’t okay.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Tony says. “But it also should be said that I let the wool get pulled over my eyes. I wasn’t personally checking in on the company that I own. And if there were under-the-table dealings, the CEO should know. And I was just compliant with whatever Obie was doing because I thought that he was good just because I knew him. That was...stupid of me.”

They order food. It’s kind of awkward. They are both pretty sure the waitress has caught on that something is up with them.

Bucky decides to eat his mac n cheese.

Tony is looking at it.

“You want some?”

“Better not. Your appetite is always huge.”

“Yeah but you like mac n cheese.”

Bucky scoops some of it onto Tony’s plate. In usual circumstances, Tony would’ve just swooped in with his fork and stolen it like the gremlin he is.

But this is not the usual circumstance.

They split the check. Get the wrong bills. Pay them anyway, because they are nothing if not nice and slightly desperate for each other.

“I’ll..see you soon,” Tony says. “It was nice talking to you.”

They get to know each other as people, after that amazingly awkward lunch.

Tony finds out that Bucky really, really loves getting up early in the morning. He has a ritual that he rarely strays from. Bucky also likes working on cars and bikes, and that’s something they enjoy together.

Tony loves quoting old movies and talking in the very stupid but very adorable transatlantic accent.

They find new restaurants to try. They figure out that they both would prefer to not go into sandwich shops. (Varied reasons, all stemming from events from 2004. Do not ask.)

Bucky gets Tony a series of old movies and movie posters, which Tony adores. Pepper and Rhodey approve.

“You’re no longer on the kill-list!” Pepper exclaims brightly.

“I think Bucky here could kill you if he wanted to,” Tony defends.

“I could not,” Bucky immediately counters. “All of your friends terrify me on a level that shouldn’t exist.”

“I’ll keep this in mind the next time I want late night pizza,” Rhodey says. “You should not have shared with the class, Barnes.”

“Like you wouldn’t have found out anyway,” Bucky answers, snorting. “You found out where to find my middle school pictures and blow them up on Stark Industries’ presentation boards. What else couldn’t you find out?”

“Bruce’s phone number,” Rhodey says, sighing.

“Oh, I have that,” Tony says.

“And you didn’t tell me?” He screeches. “I could’ve been taking him to brunch by now!”

Tony rolls his eyes.

“You’re so dramatic. I have no idea where you got that from.”

Rhodey flips him off.

Pepper delicately sighs, picking her plate up.

“I’m turning in the for the night. Rhodey, I’d suggest you do the same.”

It’s not subtle at all. They all know that Tony and Bucky are going to talk.

They’ve been doing this dance for a couple of months now. Going on dates, leaving each other at the door and kissing on the cheek goodbye. Only recently has Tony restarted activities they used to do. It still sends a zing to Bucky’s heart when Tony kisses him on the cheek before he leaves.

“So.”

God, what a great start. Really and truly. Their best one yet, of course.

“Listen,” Bucky says. “I don’t have a lot that you don’t already know. But what you should already know is that I will and can die for you. Doesn’t matter what the circumstance is. And I know you’d do the same, I can always tell. But I know that you dying for somebody is different from me because you carry the world on your shoulders and I don’t.

And these months have been rough, I know they have. I’m beyond grateful that you got that lunch with me and we agreed to actually date and have no secrets--except for the time you used the last of my blackberry preserves--but that’s okay. You can use all of my jams and preserves for whatever you want as long as I get to see you for the rest of time.”

Tony stills.

Because he wasn’t expecting this many words. He had actually prepared a whole speech. Even practiced it in front of his mirror.

(Also he was not expecting to be in his ratty old workshop t-shirt, but here he is.)

Tony melts.

He crawls into Bucky’s lap, sighing.

“I’m never leaving.”

“Really? After all that, and all I get is cuddles?” Bucky sighs dramatically. “The folly of man.”

“You get cuddles for the rest of time,” Tony says, “plus a little more. Discounted rate, of course.”

“Oh, a discounted rate?” Bucky says, cackling. “Debit or credit?”

Tony grins, laughing. He pulls Bucky into a kiss.

“Missed that.”

“Me too.”

They won’t miss it anymore. At least, not for as long as it was.

#lovelyirony writes #winteriron #bucky barnes #tony stark #rhodey #pepper potts #bruce banner #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #sharon carter #clint barton #steve is a little shit in this and i LOVE it #i need to write him like that more

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blackvelvetwriteson · 4 years ago

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𝐌𝐘 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆

( ~ Kirishima Eijirou x Black Male Reader Insert ~ )

GENRE: Fluffy Fluff!

FANDOM: Boku No Hero Academia (My Hero Academia)

TRIGGER WARNINGS: There are none today! Just fluffy fluff!

SUMMARY: Reader-Chan gets a little self conscious because Kirishima is gone a lot because of his work and he doesn’t want to be left behind. There MIGHT be a part 2 in the works so stay on the lookout for that!

WORD COUNT: 3083

(Headers are mine, but the art inside of them are not! Please don’t steal or repost without credit!)

You two had been together for awhile at this point. The last year of UA was when you finally had the guts to move your friendship further- you were excited as could be to hear that Kirishima, the literal man of your dreams, was YOURS now, and not just your “bro.” You both had really random shift hours and patrols; sometimes you would work together, sometimes Kirishima had to leave in the middle of the night, sometimes you had to leave at the first hairline fracture crack of dawn. It was extremely random and spontaneous, just like your guys’s relationship so it worked just fine.

One thing that was a constant was your fight to see who was manlier, you or him. You loved it, and so did he. Sometimes you were little spoon, sometimes you were big spoon. Sometimes you made dinner and sometimes he did- even though you knew that he was trying to mimic you without necessarily asking for help. This picked up especially close to the holiday season when he had to be gone more and more often; where he’d take jobs in neighboring states and territories but he was never so far away as to say you couldn’t ever spend time with him. That’d been the case for this week and it hit you especially hard since you had plans with him during your known off days and the weekend.

You walked through the door sniffing the air and smiling a little as you walked through the house, your eyes glistening as you smelled him in the kitchen trying to mimic something that you’d done a few weeks ago; you made rice, shrimp, minced octopus, and a bit of hoisin sauce you’d managed to trade with someone in exchange for your cooking. It didn’t smell right, but you were most definitely proud that he got quite close. It was the lack of seasoning and he knew that. He just wanted an excuse to feel your broad chest against his back as you showed him exactly what to do; but he’d never admit that. Through the years, he really grew into his skin, tall and stocky with an INCREDIBLY muscular body, and since his sleek red hair had been trained to be spiked, his beautiful mane sat perfectly on his shoulders with natural low spikes, he looked almost like a lion and it fit him well. His bangs framed his face and left you to see his eyes, and you could tell that he’d try to style it differently for you so you could look into his eyes. His eyes were sharp and keen and bright red, sparkling every single time he saw you, a couple more scars and marks making his face, his teeth still pearly white and sharp for you. Everything about him you were infatuated with from how he walked to how he cuddled with you while he thought you were asleep, to how he challenged you with every little thing.

You leaned in the doorway a little, your tongue running over your bottom lip as you straightened out your durag and smirked a little, your arms crossing over your broad chest as you tilt your head and listened to his mumbling.

“And then he did this…? I think? Um…” he leaned over the counter and looked over all of the- wrong- spices that he grabbed out of the cabinet overhead. “He just did it so… Um…”

You walked up behind him and wrapped your muscular, eager arms around his waist and pulled him into you with a soft laugh against his ear causing him to whine softly before catching himself and forcing a small pout that melted instantly into a smile.

“You know you were supposed to cook the shrimp in the hoisin sauce, right? And then mix it with the rice that…” You look over his shoulder and laugh quietly as you gently remove the lid to the pan. “…Needs a lil more butter, AND to be turned *off,”* you tease with a soft smile.

“Wait but what about simmer,” he asked with a soft pout before looking over his shoulder at you, his tan face flushing over as he nibbled on his own lip, his eyes and his mind wandering all the same. You notice, and of course, you couldn’t help yourself but to tease him more, one of your eyes squinting as you kissed his forehead and watched his face flush over more.

“Simmer ain’t for rice… Well not white rice and not right now. And it was done… Ain’t you Japanese? How do you not know this?” You chuckle softly as you wrap one of your arms around his shoulders and pull him back into you, your hand still rested on his waist.

“Hey man! Y-You know I never really had time to cook… B-Before we got together with training and hero work and studying and- a-ah!” He shut up and blushed as he felt your teeth nibbling at the skin on his neck.

“What? A lil teasing got you feeling some typa way or what?” You chuckle softly before easily turning him around to face you, double checking again to make sure that everything on the stove was off and NOT on simmer. “You mean to tell me thatcha homies never cooked for you? Like.. Ever? Not for breakfast or lunch? Or?” You laugh softly as you tilt his head back towards you, trying to avoid your gaze. “Yo… Look at me,” you say softly, your thumb gently and slowly tracing over his jawline.

“I-I’m looking! A-And no.. I just like hearing you talk…” He whined softly, gently nipping at your hand as he closed his eyes. “You’re really pushing it for just getting home! Let me make dinner… You still need to get changed and stuff too! You know our rule,” he said with a growing pout, one of his fingers waving in your face, you gazing at him with a laid back look.

You rose your hands and tilted your head a little. “Fa sho,” you chuckle before giving him a quick kiss and turning him back around. “But that’s gon have to wait until I show you AGAIN what seasonings to use,” you laugh as you eyeball what he already has out. “Hm… Onion salt and garlic powder? W… Why?” You look at him with a quirked eyebrow and he just looked away with an embarrassed look as he rubbed his arm. “Cayenne pepper? I mean you got the right idea, but you’re supposed to cook it in *with* the meat, not sprinkle it on top… It tastes starchy and takes away from the flavor,” you explain softly as he leans back into you starting to get a little emotional. “Babe. Basil? Wh… What was the thinking?” You laughed a soft little hearty laugh, but you eased up on the teasing as you noticed his heavy sigh. “Hey… Just a little bit of teasing, aight? Don’t take it to heart,” you say softly as you gently hug his waist, burying your head into the crook of his neck, your durag covered by his fiery red hair.

“I’m never gonna be as good at this at you,” he murmured quietly and he gently brushed his hair back.

“Baby,” you mumble into his skin causing him to shudder a little. “I feel you, but this really ain’t a competition… I like these moments anyway… Teaching you or coming home to seeing you in the kitchen… Or… Impersonating me or something- but not too much on that,” you say quietly as you tilt his head up and look into his watery eyes. “I know everything with us is a competition, and it’s hella fun, trust me. But… Sometimes we don’t need to compete… Everything about you is good, great, impeccable actually. You’re my manly man and I’m yours,” you say softly, your free hand wandering over his body, then down his arm until you locked your fingers together. “I ain’t even gon’ lie to you, everything about you makes me feel sumn fierce and it’s all for you, and no matter how much we compete, we’re still in this TOGETHER, you feel me?” You rose an eyebrow as him as he finally met and held your gaze.

“I guess,” he whispered softly before looking away again, his blush riding under his wide eyes. You couldn’t help but to laugh quietly under your breath and he just crossed his arms and watched as you grabbed down the pepper, seasoned salt, and seafood seasoning, slowly turning the stove on again to a simmer as you mixed the food around. “Your little.. Lingo… It’s cute,” he said quietly as he kissed against your jawline and hummed softly.

“I mean if you say so,” you practically whisper as you shrug. “It’s just how I talk where I’m from… Not a lot of people do… It’s a long story,” you say with a small smile as you shake your head a little.

“We have.. time,” he practically choked out as he looked down at your hand gently and stirring the simmering seafood and he smiled a little as you added the seasonings.

“Let me rephrase then,” you say as you gently play in his hair. “It’s a long story that I’m not interested in talking about right now,” you say with a laugh before feeling him nudge into you. “You really wanna do this right now,” you tease as you lift him off of his feet and push him onto the counter, standing in between his legs. His eyes widened and he leaned into you with a small smirk, his arms draped over your shoulders.

“My king,” he mumbled softly before pressing a soft kiss into your forehead.

“My manly man… Is there sum’n you wanna say?” You tilt your head a little, looking at his expression that he usually took when there was something on his mind.

“I mean… No… But… We probably should talk about this anyway,” he said softly as he let out a soft pained sigh and looked down in his lap. You didn’t force him to speak or look at you, sort of already anticipating the news.

“Well… Um… Tamaki wanted to meet up for this meeting with Fat Gum this weekend… So… I-It’ll count as overtime hours and I’ll get paid the same amount of overtime but like… If I were to do a month of a collective 25 odd hours a week. I promise when I get back, I’ll take you out and we can go do something.. Or something,” he said softly as he rubbed the back of his neck. You adjusted your durag and frowned a little before hugging him close, your strong arms wrapped around him and instinctively, he did the same, his eyes closing as he rested his head on top of yours.

“You aint gotta do all that… I understand that we’re heroes now. We aint got all the time in the world to just… waste the day away right? And aint Tamaki the one that was training with you in high school? Tell him I said hi… When are you leaving?”

Kirishima smiled a little, secretly relieved to have someone as understanding as yourself to comfort him. “Look… I’m not sure an exact time… But on Friday when you wake up in the morning I won’t be there… I’ll be close by! For the most part… I’m just rooming with Tamaki in a hotel because we don’t live close enough for s-stuff like that in order for me to make it o-on time,” he said softly with a wavery voice. You quirk an eyebrow at him and peer curiously into his glistening eyes and he leaned into your hands with a soft sniff. “I-I’m sorry,” he whispered softly.

“You’re good,” you say softly as your concern grows. “Aye, don’t cry… There’s no need to cry,” you say softly as you turn the stove off again, the meat being done in the pan. “What’s up baby boy? Talk to me,” you say lovingly, your thumbs gently stroking at the small sunburn that left the imprint of his headgear on his face.

“I… I d-don’t want to be left behind! Baby I.. I fucking love you… But with me being gone so much- I just- baby… I don’t like being away from you… I can’t sleep right… I don’t really eat too much and then it makes my quirk all fucked off and then I’m not training right and then I-“

You shut him up with a kiss against his lips, your hand traveling to the back of his head, pulling him closer as you slowly eased the kiss into being more passionate but still loving. In truth, you knew exactly what he was talking about. You didn’t like not cuddling with him in bed and waking up without him in the morning. You didn’t like that he was gone so often; however you understood because he was a hero that was climbing the ranks to the top. He was in the top 5, narrowly missing the number 4 spot and for that you were proud of him. You nibbled his lip gently as you pulled away and he shuddered as he whined quietly. “H-Hey..! D-Don’t just… D-Do that,” he whispered softly and you gently made him look at you.

“Shhh,” you whisper softly and you laugh as your thumbs gently stroked at his cheeks. “Actually, I’m worried about how I’M gonna be left behind… I mean come on you’re nearly the top 3 hero… And I’m.. Just me,” you shrug and brush his spikes out of his face.

“Pff..” He waved his hand a little and tried to look away, but you wouldn’t let him. “I… T-That doesn’t matter to me, I don’t care if you were dead last.. I’d never leave you behind,” he said softly as he grabbed your wrist, but your semi-stern gaze wouldn’t give. “What? W-Why’re you looking a me like that?”

“Like what?” You weren’t aware of how you looked, how angry you looked but then you became aware of how tense your jaw was and you shook your head a little. “Nevermind.. Nevermind that,” you say softly leaning in to kiss his shoulder before pulling away. “Everything’s done now… You could scramble a couple of eggs to spice everything up a little bit, but… It’s fine as is,” you say as you back away and go to leave so you could change at least before you ate and showered, your mind racing a million miles a minute. You couldn’t help but to be a little self conscious. I mean, YOUR boyfriend was number 4 ranked hero and he was attractive AND confident-for the most part. He was everything you ever wanted and then some with how compassionate he was, and how passionate he is about being a hero of his community instead of the unnecessary fame or money. As you reached your room, your mind veered way off and you felt your jaw clench again. You thought about how different you’d be without him, without him climbing on top of you at 3 in the morning just because you weren’t cuddling him right, or your friendly banters and competitions. Your eyes started to burn with tears you refused to let out as you pulled your shirt off and you let out a shaky sigh.

What you didn’t know was that Kirishima was in the doorway having already made your bowls, his arms crossed as he silently watched you. He watched you change, your choppy irregular movements, he heard your sniffles and growls trying to suppress the tears you wanted to let out but refused yourself to. He hung his head thinking he did something wrong and he walked in behind you after you pulled on some joggers, his cheek pressed against your back, his arms wrapped around your waist. “I’m gonna make it up to you, I promise,” he whispered softly as he nuzzled into you, your hands massaging at his forearms.

“Make what up to me? You didn’t do anything wrong,” you say softly, looking over your shoulder at him.

“I feel like I-I did something… And I don’t want to be away from you so much… I don’t know, I’ll just… I’ll think of something… It could be a weekend getaway trip thing or something-“ you cut him off with a soft shushing noise and you leaned back into him.

“You’re a top hero.. You’e a busy man. The only thing we can do for now is enjoy our time together, yeah? Besides you act like it’s gonna be a parting forever. Nah, I aint abouta let that happen, because I love you. I love you so damn much and nothing is ever gonna change that, you hear me,” you say softly as you run your stocky fingers through Kirishima’s thick red hair. He hummed softly and leaned his head into your hand gently, his hands taking you by the waist and pulling you closer to him.

“I love you so much… How did I get so lucky to have someone like you,” he giggled softly as his eyes started to tear up. “So understanding… So… Attractive- inside AND out… I don’t deserve you,” he said softly as he kissed your neck gently. Of course, you hum softly feeling his warm, soft lips against the tender skin of your neck and your breathing instantly gets a little heavier, more shaky.

“K-Kirishima-“ you say softly, trying to keep your composure. “I-If you don’t stop we finna be up here a bit longer than we was supposed to be,” you laugh softly with your idle threat. “And I’m not tryna eat dinner when it’s cold.” You looked over your shoulder and caught his keen gaze from behind the bangs of his mane as he bit into your shoulder with a laugh. “H-HEY-“

“Heheheh,” he laughed softly as he kissed the side of your head. “I guess you’re right… But, don’t think this is over my cute little king,” he laughed more, slapping your ass hard as he left the room. “I’ll see you downstairs,” he said with a wave and a suggestive wink.

“That boy,” you whispered softly as you pulled on one of his shirts. “Number 4 finna get his ass whooped by number 15,” you laugh softly, closing your blinds as you skipped down the stairs to meet your boyfriend for dinner and movies.

#black velvet x bnha #kirishima eijiro #kirishima x you #kirishima x y/n #bnha eijiro kirishima #mha kirishima #kirishima eijiro imagine #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima eijiro fluff #bnha fluff #black velvet x community #poc!reader #black reader #kirishima x black reader #kirishima x male reader #male reader #black male reader

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vasoula · 4 years ago

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The Peepshow

Summary: Two months after his redemption journey, Sasuke is back to Konoha and Sakura couldn’t be more happy about them spending a lot of time together. However, things take a hard turn when Sakura is assigned a special mission and she has to hide it from the rest of Team 7. Everything comes spiraling down when Sasuke finds out exactly what she has to do.

Tags: hard rated m, blank period, kinda AU-ish

Author’s notes: Please read, thank you!

Hello sasusaku fandom, it’s me ya girl, back after so many years to join the fandom once more. I have been missing this couple dearly and after going through a lot of fanarts, I stumbled upon my favorite girl and biggest inspiration strawberrycreampiefluff. She had made a mini doujinshi years ago, and I wanted to create a story about it so badly. So, I contracted her, got her blessings and created this mini monster fic you will read below (which she will hopefully recreate into a full fanart comic when she finds time - love you girl! - please support my friend’s art, it’s amazing!). This is a collab between us sort of. The first chapter is like a prologue - introduction to get the gist of things. This takes place after the last, but before sasusaku travels, kind of an alternate way of how sasusaku got together. I tried to keep the characters as close to canon as possible and this my first official full chaptered fic, so please be kind and leave comments and likes to show your opinion and support.

You can also read it on fanfiction and Ao3.

Next chapter

“Act one: Different mission objectives”

Haruno Sakura walks briskly towards the Hokage tower, her high-heeled shinobi sandals clanking against the pavement as she makes her presence known to the people who pass by. A few heads turn around, mostly males, to stare at her. She is known as one of the most beautiful women – if not the most – in Konoha. As the Fifth’s apprentice, she is working at the hospital as the top chief and she is well respected by shinobi villages all around the world for her talent in medical jutsu.

Sakura is currently dressed her hospital clothes, because her shift at the hospital just ended. She is wearing a button up white shirt that’s left slightly unbuttoned when it reaches her chest, a short black skirt and her white medical robe on top. She is heading to meet Tsunade who just asked for her to be present at her office immediately. The pink haired girl already knows what that means and what it entails.

It is a new mission.

That has to be it. It has been months since the last one, and her working hard as a medical ninja limited her chances of being sent into one. She is more than ready for it. However, she has a feeling this is only the start of bad news. Knowing her teacher, it has to be a special kind of mission. Being called so suddenly like that also gives her the heads up to guess the genre of it.

It must be a flower mission.

Yes, flower, Sakura thinks and nods to herself after waving at some people who greet her.

Flower mission is a term for female ninjas only. It is a code for a seduction mission.

Going and especially accepting a seduction mission is a big step for shinobi women. It is a very sensitive topic and it needs to be handled delicately and in secrecy. It is a powerful weapon which when used correctly, the mission will be done easily or quickly depending on the execution.

The three-man team pattern has most young girls create bonds or worse falling in love and it makes them attached in one way or another to their male teammates. That is why most ninja women have a difficulty seducing another man. The life of a ninja is usually short; you never know what could happen and the kunoichis value the idea of love. Still though, a woman’s power is strong and every kunoichi succeeds efficiently in their own little style.

The moment Sakura comes into the office, Tsunade’s head snaps up. The two women hold eye-contact for a few seconds before the younger medic closes the door behind her with a soft thud.

No one else is in the room, so Sakura guesses that whatever the fifth Hokage is about to tell her must be something of importance. She makes her way into the room and with elegant movements sits down on the chair that is positioned right in front of the desk. There are no formalities between apprentice and teacher when no one is around to watch, and since Tsunade made no sign to stop her, she also speaks first.

“Tsunade-sama, you called me.” It is not a question, but it is not a mere observation either.

The older woman sighs and puts her folded hands beneath her chin. Her eyes close for a moment and then she lifts her head upwards, giving Sakura a fond and soft look like a proud mother would give to her grown up child. A blonde strand escapes from her well-made and low ponytail and her red manicured fingers come forth to tag it back to place. An elegant move, and there is no wonder where Sakura took her beautiful ways from.

“Yes, I did,” Tsunade pauses for a second and then hastily continues, going straight to the point. There is no time for pleasantries. “I have a new mission for you.”

There is no surprise on Sakura’s face and Tsunade cannot tell if she already knew what her intentions are or she has simply masked her face with a facade of indifference. A true kunoichi right there, but then again…it could be the influence of a certain brooding male.

Before Sakura could ask more, Tsunade beat her into it and answers to her unspoken question. “It is a seduction mission.”

This time the girl reacts instantly and she blinks profusely, pink eyelashes fanning rosy cheeks repeatedly. “A-ah,” Sakura lets out a squeaky response, knowing the consequences of such mission.

So I was right! It is a flower mission, she thinks and curses mentally. Here come the arising problems and she has not even started yet.

“I know, but believe me, I have no choice,” Tsunade put her palms atop of the desk and she pushes her chair back slightly, “This mission is specifically made for you.”

The woman knows what she is doing to her student right now, but seriously the girl is one of the best out there. Her exotic looks and endless beauty draws men like magnets to her. Besides, with her alluring ways and witty personality, she can bend even iron willed males, for example, Sasuke Uchiha.

Sakura has already made a list of problems at the back of her mind and her inner self screams in horror.

This is her first official seduction mission. How the hell is she supposed to break the news to rest of Team 7? She cannot straight go up to them and tell them. Naruto will surely react instantly and whine about it until the next decade. She has a feeling Kakashi, being trained under Tsunade, might already know something about this mission and that leaves her with one last important person to tell.

The man her heart yearns for.

After coming back from his redemption journey, Sasuke was a changed man. He was everything she had hoped for. Some parts of his character still remained the same that go back to his genin days, but she saw a new side of him that has been hidden for years, buried deep within all the hatred he harbored for most of his life. The last Uchiha has always been a cool character with a calculating thought process. The difference now was that he was free from the hatred and sins that plagued most of his life.

That is where the healing took place – right at this heart.

While he was away he helped many people during his journey across all the lands. That in return helped him find himself. He learned to love himself again and he stopped being angry at the world. He saw life from a different perspective and by the time he returned the storm inside his mind was calm once more.

Sakura’s heart flourished when he came back two months ago.

The two have been spending time together more than ever. They hang out after Sakura’s shifts at the hospital during the day either alone or with the rest of Team 7, sometimes including Sai. Other days, when their schedules are not so busy, Naruto comes and collects each one of them so they can have dinner at Ichiraku just the three of them. On special occasions, when the Hokage in training feels extra giddy, he will bring Hinata along and they will have something akin to double dates as he likes to call them.

It is an unspoken secret that the relationship between Sasuke and Sakura is a complicated one. They are at the stage where sometimes they act like they are together or other times they are on the verge of being in a relationship. Sakura knows what she is feeling that is for sure. The pure, unwavering love she feels for him is rooted deep within her and grows everyday as she watches him be happier and calmer before her eyes. They have had their moments of intimacy together before. Instances where they became close - she remembers those intense feelings they shared through eye contact and hushed whispers when they were left alone.

The first one was after the war when Sasuke was in prison. The first time he expressed his feelings towards what had happened between them all those years. All the wrong and the ugly parts of himself he wanted to distinguish himself from.

In those quiet moments in the dark where he could not see, his eyes sealed like the criminal he was, he told her the truth. He trusted her now to reveal the ugly truth of Konoha and its elders. He divulged all the hardships his brother, Itachi Uchiha, had to endure to bring peace to the world. In a whisper, he confessed all about his clan like a dirty secret -like he was the sinner and she was the priest. And like the true healer she was, Sakura helped him see the good in him that she knew was still there and gave him disclosure. He accepted her kind words once more with a simple nod and a quiet thank you. But for Sakura, at the current time, it was more than enough. She saw the change in him. It was a small start but she would accept it. The young woman had endured harder things in the past after all.

Later that night, when she cried angry tears at the unfairness of the world, because now she knew finally about the Uchiha massacre, she knew all of them had to endure something hard in their lives and learn to live with it. But god if it did not hurt her that he was the one left suffering the most. And she just wished, she hoped, her love was enough to heal that part of himself that was trying to recover.

The second one was when he left for his redemption journey. While they had spend a few moments together before he left, nothing compares to that single experience. She knew she had to wait for him again, but this time it was not a tear jerking moment with her heart lurching in her throat. No, this time, it was her mind buzzing with all the implications his fingers left on her forehead and the fond look he was giving her.

The third one was when the Konoha 12 had their first night all together again. Of course Naruto had a hand in organizing once again. That little rascal, Sakura had thought then fondly. This guy was always trying his best to bring people together and he was doing a damn good job at it. The fact that he was able to persuade Sasuke into an outing like that was a feat itself.

Everything was going smoothly until the drinks started pouring in. Shots after shots of sake had Sakura feeling pleasantly tipsy that night, but she was not the only with that effect of alcohol on her. Somehow everyone had more than a little in their system and that did not exclude the moody male of Team 7. He was acting normal alright, Sakura would have told you, she was sure of it. But then, Ino Yamanaka, her notorious best friend was dragging her along the dance floor and she could not help but feel a hot stare at the back of her head. Goosebumps arising on her skin had her on edge. She knew then he was blatantly staring at her and he was not trying to hide it in the slightest. It was like then everyone knew what going on and her axis had sifted on its head. She could not fathom this would be the place where Sasuke would lose all his inhibitions, much less with everyone watching in anticipation his next moves. Naruto on the other hand, unbeknownst to her, was throwing just the right comments here and there, making Sasuke see Sakura from a different perspective. About time, if you had asked Naruto; he watched Sasuke analyze Sakura dancing as if she was a riddle ready to be solved.

Sasuke, at the hot age of twenty, was now a young man and finding a woman attractive was the natural course of life. However, for him these new profound feelings confused him. He did not know what he was feeling and all he wanted to do now was stare at Sakura until his eyes tired themselves out. He was ready to activate his sharingan just so he could commit that image to his memory.

That feeling in his chest was starting to bother him though and suddenly he felt all the stares on him from the intense chakra he was producing. Looking around he felt second hand embarrassment for himself, his ears getting red. Getting a shot of sake from the nearby table, Sasuke gulped down its contents and got ready to leave his position at the bar. He could not handle to keep his emotions in check any longer and this was bad. He was not ready to admit to himself what he was feeling and trying to suppress it any longer could do more harm than good. Better he left the situation right now before he put him and Sakura in a compromising position he was not ready to handle yet.

Right at that moment, Sakura decided to turn around, her dress sticking to her like a vice from all the sweat her intense dancing had caused. One look at Sasuke had time freezing. They held an intense eye contact for a few seconds, and her heart fluttered in her chest. She saw the change in him, she has seen that look before when other men had stared her way in the past. It was then she knew, tonight had been something more to him even though nothing has transpired between them yet. Maybe Sasuke was not ready to acknowledge these feelings yet, but Sakura had hope that this was the start of something new between them.

Feeling bold she started to approach him, confident in herself and brave enough thanks to the alcohol she had consumed. The moment she moved, she saw him flatter in his steps. He was about to leave and escape. The fearless Sasuke Uchiha was scared of what was transpiring between them, but she was not about to let him have his chance to escape this time. Sakura saw his jaw clenching and his hand flattering at his side from its place at the bar stool. He stared at her unblinkingly, waiting for her next move like they were about to have a fight at the training grounds.

Sakura then approached the bar like she owned the place and opened her mouth to say the most simple words known to existence.

“Hey, Sasuke”, she greeted in a whoosh, a breathless exclamation. She leaned against the bar stool and waited for the inevitable dismissal of denial.

Sakura found herself surprised however when he went rigid and leaned forward his towering body over her like he was about to whisper a dirty secret in her ear.

“You are different from the last time I remember you,” He confessed hotly, his mouth near her neck. If it was not for the obvious fact that she knew him well, any other person would have thought he was drunkenly leaning on her, but Sakura is not anybody and she understands this the way of him hiding his emotions from showing on his face in the shadows her neck provides.

What a weird way of seeking comfort from his own shyness, Sakura thought.

She idly recalled then that they were not in fact alone and Naruto was right behind them. When he started making obscene signs with his hands Sakura felt herself flush from head to toe, but the murderous glint in her eyes was apparently enough to stop Naruto’s crudeness.

“Eh, Sasuke-kun, what do you mean?”, she asked hesitantly, her hand raising and resting on Sasuke’s back in a sense of comfort. The soft material of his black shirt damp against her palm.

They were almost approaching the stage of hugging right in front of everybody.

Before they could complete the hug though, Sasuke’s head turned to the left, his cheek almost brushing against Sakura’s. The pink haired girl shyly turned her head slightly towards his direction, their faces almost touching. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the effect he still had on her and damn him if he he did not thrive on it.

He could think of all the nice things he could say to her, now it was the perfect time to take a step closer to approaching the inevitable connection they have. But his mind had other plans when the words slipped out of his mouth. In a teasing manner he was only capable of, he smirked and said, “More annoying than ever.”

He was sure she must have caught on his teasing by now. Using bitter words of the past to heal their wounds by putting another meaning to it. She was a smart woman and she could understand his actions better than anyone.

Sasuke knew she had caught on when he felt her fist punch lightly his stomach as if to punish him for insulting her.

“That is not a very nice way of complimenting someone, Sasuke-kun,” she whispered angrily, facing him completely. Any traces of wonder were gone from her emerald eyes replaced with mirth and she continued, smiling menacingly at him, “I thought I taught you better than that.”

“Hm,” Sasuke hummed in response and stood straight once again, looking down at her.

By now they had become a spectacle to their friends, the black haired male could feel Naruto almost bristling with excitement from behind him and he was not about to disappoint his friend who has been pestering him to get on with his feelings already.

“I guess we should spend more time together so I can get better at it.”

The double meaning behind his words was evident.

Sasuke Uchiha then patted Sakura Haruno’s head like it was the most natural thing in the world to do and smiled down at her gently.

His female teammate took a big breath through her nose, rosy cheeks glowing, and crossed her arms across her chest. She had him where she wanted him.

“Damn right we should!”

That was one week ago from her current position at the Hokage office. Just when she was making a great progress with seducing Sasuke, she has to go and approach another man for a mission. Talk about making matters weird between them. The worst part is the fact that she has to tell him. She wonders what his reaction is going to be considering they are not together yet. Is he going to act jealous or indifferent?

Who is she kidding? He is just going to glare her with this stupid scary look he gives in assassination missions to terrify people off the moment the words come out of her mouth and that is it.

“I haven’t finished yet,” Tsunade literally saw the thoughts displayed across Sakura’s face. It is like her life passed before her eyes, and her skin got a tad paler.

“Of course there is more,” the pink haired girl mumbles sadly while looking down, but the Hokage lets it slide.

“You will have back-up,” Tsunade says and sees with the corner of her eye Sakura sucking in a breath, “the rest of Team 7 will be with you,” and then next thing she knows the girl is chocking on air.

“W-what?” Sakura coughed out, giving her teacher a desperate look.

She feels like she is the center of the world and it is slowly closing up on her. Life suddenly looks less appealing, because good old Team 7 is back on track again with Sakura’s first seduction mission as a head start.

“Tsunade-sama, please tell me you are joking.” The pink haired medic grabs the sides of the armchair and hopes it does not break and crumble along with her composure.

The young woman also hopes her teacher is having some kind of twisted pleasure out of this because she is certainly not feeling happy with the news.

Tsunade wants to reprimand her student for losing her temper, but she understands what the girl is going through and also knows she in no better position to talk when it comes to matters like this. Still though, ears and eyes are everywhere and they must keep a low profile when in the Hokage’s office.

“Sakura,” The curvy female looks at her seriously, “Team 7 will be the back-up of this mission and that’s final.”

I am doing it for your sake, Tsunade wants to say but keeps quiet instead.

Somehow, Sakura understands where her teacher is coming from. This will be a test for both sides. It is a test for her that is for sure. A test for patience, a test for her relationship, a test for her seduction abilities both on the target and Sasuke, because let’s be honest, who is going to calm down the last Uchiha other than her?

Sakura closes her eyes, takes a calming breath through her mouth and then controls the pattern as taught by Ino’s yoga lessons. She could do it this.

The young female opens her pretty green eyes once again and then stares at Tsunade straight in eye, a determined expression on her face. The will of fire is practically seeping through her and her fiery temper is burning up again but for another cause.

“That’s the spirit,” Tsunade says proudly and hands her the scroll that has been lying on the wooden desk the whole time. “This is your target, Misty Jade.”

The first thing Sakura does when she steps into the house is to check for a specific chakra signature around the area. Sasuke pays frequent visits to her house nowadays you would think he lived in there, having keys and all, but alas.

She lets out a long sigh of relief, glad that she did not detect Sasuke’s compelling presence. Thank heavens, cost is clear. The twenty year old girl suspects that the males of Team 7 had already been called to Tsunade’s office, the second she was out of the vicinity. She mentally praises her teacher and then she decides to prepare for battle. The kunoichi briefly wonders how the hell she is supposed to deal with this. She has no clue how to handle this.

Sakura runs upstairs, heading straight to the bedroom. She slams the door open, scroll still in hand, and starts rummaging through her things in order to pack. After a few minutes of checking everything, she put all the necessary items in her mission bag. From medical supplies to energy pills to scrolls to clothes to a sleeping bag and lastly to the money she will need for the seduction necessities she has to buy. Finally finished, she sits down on the bed, crumpling the blue silky sheets in the process. Then, Sakura unrolls the scroll and reads.

Mission #B039 Type: B-rank Specialist: F (female)

Stage: Pre Place: Village hidden in the Waterfalls

Target: Misao Takashi

Gender: Male

Age: 25 years old

Characteristics: Red hair, blue eyes and relatively tall.

Efficiency: Messenger

Information: Misao Takashi is an important messenger between two feud lords that control and lead illegal product transportations. Your mission is to seduce said messenger that has in his possession a folder with contract papers which contain info for the next meet up and also a pair of keys. This is the part one of the main ANBU mission that will follow after you succeed. Mission includes back-up. Good luck.

The kunoichi falls back on the bed with a flop, thinking how she should approach the mission. She idly scratches her scalp and tosses her body around from side to side, her long pink locks sprawled across the bed sheets moving along with her. Sakura knows what the village hidden in the Waterfalls is known for. And if her guesses are right, a guy like him would go to a special kind of place. The men of Team 7 will also go there.

“This is just great!” Sakura shouts even though no one is in the room.

She stares up at ceiling, her mind thinking of all the possibilities and scenarios. The pink haired girl knows what to do to succeed in this mission, however hiding from Sasuke is the main problem.

With huff she stands up and starts pacing around the room while babbling nonsense and muttering profanities out loud, until the idea hits her.

“Of course,” Sakura jumps on the bed, “Tsunade-shishou is the solution!”

She lies down, calm once again, and grabs a nearby pillow, squeezing it close to her chest. The warmth it provides calms her for a second, but she resists the urge to snuggle it closer. The girl can already imagine the Uchiha’s frown when she will tell him that she will be staying at Tsunade’s for a few days in order to work on some papers that have to do with the hospital.

Sakura just hopes he will believe it for her sake and for the sake of this mission.

❤︎

“It’s dirty and disgusting in here,” Sasuke mutters angrily, sitting uncomfortably on the animal print armchair, “Why do we even have to do this?”

The hot pink, soft and furry material irritates him even more as his elbow barely glides on it, making it difficult for him to nurse his drink. It is too warm, too velvety.

The last Uchiha almost growls out of sheer annoyance. This mission is far too low for his standards. He cannot believe he allowed himself to be dragged in here. His pride is hurt goddammit. Yes, he may be a man, but he has never set foot in a pleasure house. Or as his best friend and ex-sensei like to call it: a strip club.

The atmosphere is suffocating him, the lights are too dim. All kinds of different and hypnotizing aromas assault his senses, making his clear mind drunk and hazy. He cannot tell if it is his alcoholic beverage that is making him feel this way or it is the misty cloud of seduction and pleasure filled nights that surround this place.

The men of Team 7 have been assigned on a mission just yesterday as a backup to an ANBU specialist. Sasuke was definitely not pleased with the news, but he could not go against the fifth Hokage’s orders as much he wanted to, so he mildly complained until he was shushed by Tsunade. So, here they are today, in the place that their target and the other shinobi are supposed to be. Sasuke Uchiha, Naruto Uzumaki and Kakashi Hatake, being expert ninjas, have already detected the target sitting in the middle of the area, near the front. And now they have to wait. If something goes wrong, only then they are allowed to interfere.

“Focus, Sasuke.” Kakashi says calmly, a white hospital mask covering his face instead of his usual ninja attire. “A mission is a mission.”

The grey haired shinobi is collected as always, and Sasuke cannot help but scowl.

As if the ridiculous place is not enough problems, they were also forced to wear formal clothes. Supposedly, they are ordinary men looking for some fun and not ninjas who are capable of killing anyone in the room within seconds. Thus, the men of Team 7 have to make it believable by dressing up fancily to blend in with crowd and to stay undistinguished.

“Well, it’s not that bad in here.” Naruto tells them with a foxy grin on his face, clearly excited to be in a place like this. A slight blush is covering his cheeks since he has been consuming a few portions of alcohol for an hour now. The blond is pleasantly tipsy and happier than usual.

“Shut up Naruto,” Sasuke turns to his left and addresses his best friend, “If Hinata found out you’re here, she would dump you.”

Sasuke is very irritated, and that results to more insults and jibs than normal. He crosses his legs, right ankle meeting left knee, just to move and do something out of spite.

“T-That’s not true!” The man immediately tries to explain, “I told her it was a mission and she was okay with it!”

Naruto’s face visibly falls, and he looks at Sasuke with his puppy dog eyes. However, before the blonde could set off, being an emotional drunk and all, Sasuke just looks at other side, ready to ignore the impending whining.

Is he even allowed to be drinking on such mission? Kakashi better do something, Sasuke thinks, complaining inside his head instead.

“Don’t fight.” Their teacher interrupts, knowing how those two are and how bad they can get when Sakura is not around to stop them.

He has even given them just enough freedom, permitting them to drink, because he knows they are the back-up of this mission and not the main person. Kakashi strongly believes that intervention will not be needed, considering this an efficient ANBU specialist sent by the Hokage herself.

So, Kakashi just sits relaxed, waits and enjoys the show.

The oldest member of Team 7 is wearing a dark grey button-up shirt, the collar slightly open and a pair of black trousers. Naruto has a similar style, except he sports a nice pair of jeans with a light blue button-up shirt that makes his gorgeous eyes stand out more. Sasuke opts for a more classic style though, completing his look with black trousers, a white button-up shirt (with the first button undone) and an onyx suit jacket to top it off.

It is an extraordinary night today since the place is filled to the brim with men of all ages and from different villages, plus, the interior design of the club is full of pretty decorations. As the shining neon letters say outside on the wooden board above the club’s name, Hustler’s Ho, it promises a night of busty tricks and naughty chicks, and of course a special guest. Sasuke didn’t pay attention to the name, it is useless information anyways.

The waitresses are all beautiful women holding silver trays with glitter and fruity scented oils applied on their bodies and every time they move under the low dimmed lights to serve the customers, their smooth skins sparkle teasingly. The atmosphere is thick with cigarette smoke, but despite that, the room somehow smells good because of the enticing scents that come off from all the perfume the females of the club have put on.

Red velvet curtains hang from the ceiling at the left side of the club and make up for entrances to the changing rooms, while the bar and the bathrooms are at the right side of it. In the center of the room is the stage where the lights shine the most since the ceiling has a lot of spotlights in all kinds of colors there. The rest of the huge area is only provided with low dimmed lights and that makes the dancers at the stage stand out more. The walls are painted a dark pink color and it gives the room a sense of obscurity and raw sexuality.

Great amount of money gets thrown at the stage as the ladies entertain the crowd with their dancing skills either on the poles or on the floor. Excited shouts of more can be heard even from where the members of Team 7 are seated at the back of the club. The dancers are barely dressed in Sasuke’s opinion; too much skin is bared for the eyes to feast. He averts his eyes, a light blush dusting his cheeks.

A dark blonde girl is currently dancing, her back turned to the pole, her hands up in the air touching the steel above her head. She is moving her lower half sexily in fluid left and right motions, her hips rolling expertly. The girl is wearing purple lingerie with her hair up in a high ponytail, and money is stuck in all kind of places from the men who put it there. She keeps it professional, but her face still expresses the hidden erotic feelings she wants to convey.

Then, all of a sudden, the music slowly quiets down and a deep male voice comes from the speakers. “Thank you dear, you were amazing as always! Please, grab your money and clear the stage.”

Sasuke silently scoffs and rolls his eyes at this. He should really stop drinking, the alcohol is making him show his irritation and that is not a good thing when on a mission. He has to keep his face impassive, bring forth a cold facade. Especially when in that said mission, Sakura is not there to calm him down and Naruto only breathes to make it worse for him with his antics. Of course, Kakashi is nonchalant as always.

The crowd gets almost completely silent, only a few murmurs can be heard now, and the unknown voice continues. “Only today, we have a special guest dancing…”

Without warning, a swift sound gains the attention of everyone inside the room. It is a whoosh of air fluttering against hard yet soft and velvet material that signals that the curtains have just been opened. The whispers get a tad bit louder at this, but get lost when the raspy voice resonates through the room once again. “Now, gentlemen, prepare to meet tonight’s special guest, a beauty and an exotic flower among the ladies…”

The sound came from the left side of the club, near the back. Heels clanking against the floor in a steady rhythm and elegant manner are the only thing that can be heard. The steps are light and slow paced. It has a nice ring to it, the continuous clicking is pleasant to the ears and everyone is holding their breath in anticipation. The males of Team 7 hear loud gasps, watching as men are getting blown away by the mere sight of this special guest. Heads are turned, all the attention clearly diverted behind. The pace has a unique air of confidence that no one can quite put their finger on. The woman has a stealthy and powerful walking. A soft tune starts playing as an intro while the woman comes closer and closer to the stage.

The dancer narrows the distance between her and the stage as she takes painfully slow steps towards it or so it seems to the eager men. The shadow that still hovers near the area where Team 7 is –thanks to the somber and tricky lighting– hides her, until finally, a curvy form starts to appear as she comes forth to where the light is. Her silver, almost dark gray, stilettos are the first things that show. A few agonizingly and torturous seconds later, long legs and fair smooth skin come into view.

Naruto reacts first, an exclamation leaving his lips. It is not a sharp inhalation of amazement, but it is a loud gasp of shock. His blue eyes widen and there are hazy no more. Cold sweat forms on his forehead, and he is feeling like someone threw cold water on him to wake him up and bring him back to the harsh reality. It is definitely not an easy feat to astound the ninja who is known as the best at surprising people.

The voice resonates through the room once again and the male starts praising the newcomer dancer, “An exotic babe, outstanding with high class skills.” The announcement is over, and the music gets steadily louder while the special guest is one step away from the stage.

She just stands still with her back on the cheering crowd for a few seconds as if to bewitch the already elated men with her beauty. The young woman is posing sensually and it compliments her already perfect body. She is captivating in every sense. Her legs are long and toned while her tights are voluptuous and her rear is curvy. Her waist is slight bent and it makes her behind stand out even more. Her back sparkles teasingly thanks to the glittery substance that has been applied on her skin everywhere on her body. She lifts her left hand up to course it through her silky long locks while her right one is resting on her inner tight in a provocative pose.

That unmistakable pink hair belongs only to one person.

Kakashi feels his mouth hanging open inside his mask. This event took a very fast turn for the worst and he does not like the ending result at all. She is the last person he could think of going up there if you had asked him about it. He closes his eyes and hums quietly awaiting for the impeding doom waiting to happen.

Sasuke reacts not a second too late and his breath hitches. A flash of light blinds him and he blinks his eyes twice in response. The lighting must be playing tricks on him, because there is no fucking way this is Sakura ready to go up there. He freezes and his face goes rigid. His calculating yet beautiful onyx eyes widen and his naturally pouty lips part slightly in shock. A wave of cool air passes by him –probably someone activated a fan to create more special effects for such a unique guest– and it makes his soft black hair flutter in the wind. An intoxicating scent fills his senses and clouds every ounce of rationality within him.

The special guest goes up the stage, turns around and Sasuke can breathe no more.

“Please welcome, Misty Jade!”

Sasuke Uchiha, for the first time in years, sees red.

#sasusaku #sakura haruno #sasuke uchiha #ssfanfiction #ssfanfic #ssfic #sasusaku fanfiction #depending on the response i am going to get i am going to post the next chapter #this is a tease fic yall #my baby strawberrycreampiefluff is the bessst #my first after yeaaaars boi #yes i am 4everxd #vasoula writes

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frozenartscapes · 4 years ago

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Hey! I just had a little idea for the Modern AU! Since El likes drawing, how about Byleth gets her a drawing tablet?

Yes!

At first she is confused. Very confused. “I thought you said you were going to get some drawing supplies?”

“El, this is for drawing! Look, you plug it into the computer here. And then you take this pen and hold it close to the pad, and it moves the cursor around like the mouse does.”

“...Ok... But how does it draw?”

“I was getting to that.” Byleth opens up a program she already downloaded. It was a design app, not the expensive subscription-based one but maybe if El gets into this she might consider getting that one. She sets up a blank page and hands El the pen.

“These little buttons along the side all have different functions. That one there is the paintbrush,” she said, pointing to the little brush icon. El’s a little clumsy with the stylus at first, but manages to drag the cursor over to the icon. Without question, she tapped the pen down on the tablet to click the icon before Byleth could explain, and Byleth felt a little rush of pride that her former student was so intuitive.

“So imagine the tablet is that white space. Whatever you draw on there will show up wherever the cursor is.”

Edelgard experiments by drawing a few lines and squiggles. “This is...certainly different,” she comments, “It’s hard to draw when I can’t look down at what my hands are doing.”

“That takes some getting used to,” Byleth assured her, “But look!” She reached for the keyboard and tapped two buttons at the same time, and the last line El had drawn vanished without a trace.

“Wh...what was that? How did you do that without an eraser?”

“‘Command-Z’,” Byleth told her, “I’m not much of a graphic artist, but I do know about that one. It’s basically an ‘undo’ button. Any mistake you made that you don’t like, you can just undo it with that, rather than fight with an eraser or try to fix it with paint.”

“Well, that’s certainly much more forgiving,” El sighed in relief, “That...would make things a lot easier.”

“It gets better! Here, let me show you how to find brushes.”

The first few drawings El does aren’t masterpieces in any respect. They were mostly for her to get used to using the program and the tablet. But she’s hooked almost instantly. Byleth comes home often finding her either drawing, or watching tutorials about drawing or the program itself, learning new tips and techniques to improve her skills.

Not everything is smooth sailing. Byleth was worried El was going to launch the computer monitor off the balcony when she was trying to learn the pen tool.

She starts experimenting with vectors once she does learn, however, and finds she almost likes the simplistic graphic style better than strict realism. She takes inspiration from some of the tattoos she’s gained to cover scars and remember friends. She starts hoarding books on design and form. And font. She still hates all the grammar rules but begins to actually understand why the rules exist after discovering typeface.

It blows her mind when she realizes that she can turn her own handwriting into a font.

She also learns that she can bring photos into the drawing program and change and enhance them there, too. The concept of photography itself was wild to her - the fact that a single moment could be captured in an instant, preserved forever in the purest form of realism. But then to take the realistic quality of a photo and change it! From something as simple as removing a blemish on a face to fully changing the colours and background! Even in this modern age with all this technology, people are still finding ways to alter reality through art and it amazes her.

She gets herself a camera not long after that revelation, and Byleth often accompanies her out on trips through the city. She photographs things no one in their right mind would photograph, and while some find it strange she’s so intent on getting a perfect shot of a pigeon, Byleth finds it endearing. She had grown so used to this world that banal things like pigeons went unnoticed by her. But El saw this world with wonder and amazement in a way she never could before. This world hadn’t hurt her the way her old one had. She wasn’t jaded and bitter about this one, and could still find beauty in everything. Even in pigeons.

Byleth suggests she create a blog to share her art. And she never really expected the small but notable following El gained as a result of that. Yet she was not at all surprised.

#ss/modern!au #fe three houses #au ideas #el isn't a quitter #i can totally see her stubbornly refusing to give up on the tablet #despite it being really hard to learn at first #but then once she's in she's IN #she always wanted to be an artist #but being emperor got in the way of that #now nothing is stopping her #and there are so many ways to BE an artist now #i also hc she'd be big on photography #just because she never wants to forget the people she cares about #drawing is only so reliable #especially if she can't remember already #but a photo perfectly captures someone's likeness #so she doesn't have to strain to remember #she just wishes it existed back in her time #she goes to the palace and photographs the last family portrait of the hresvelgs #and has it as her phone background #also as a print on her desk #it's the best she can do #auralite776 #a world without gods

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discotreque · 4 years ago

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LwD 1.10, “No Small Parts”

Well, that was the most fun I've had watching Star Trek in literally a quarter of a century.

I had high hopes for this series. I love TAS, largely because of its wacky outsized concepts that could only have worked in animation—not that they all did work, but the potential was so apparent to me, even as a kid reading the Alan Dean Foster novelizations—and as an adult, there's something about the imagination of Lower Decks's FX setpieces that transcends even the glorious CGI bonanzas of Discovery.

Pause for a confession. I've long pushed back against criticism of serialization in new Trek. That's just how TV is now, okay? Might as well complain about it being in widescreen. But I'm backing down a little, because I've realized there is something about Star Trek that's inextricable from at least a partially-episodic format. And while Picard was telling a different kind of story, I can't deny that my favourite episodes of Disco have been the ones with a mostly self-contained A-plot. After 10 delightfully episodic instalments of LwD, its focus on long-term development of characters instead of a season-spanning puzzle-plot (okay, mostly just Mariner, but we only have 10 × 22 minutes and she is the star) has been downright refreshing.

So here we are, at the end of the most consistent and well-executed Season 1 of a Star Trek series since, arguably, Those Old Scientists. And sure, if they'd had to produce another... yikes, 42 episodes? Then sure, they probably would have dropped a clunker or two—but they didn't, and winning on a technicality is still winning. I'm practically vibrating with excitement for Disco to come back next week, but damn, I'm going to miss this little show while it's on hiatus.

Spoilers below:

Something I've been keeping track of finally paid off this week! (Which never happens to me, lol.) The destruction of the USS Solvang marked the first present-day death(s) of any Starfleet officer on Lower Decks, the only other on-screen killing at all being a flashback in "Cupid's Errant Arrow". Which makes sense, being (a) a comedy, and (b) about typically "expendable" characters: it hasn't been afraid to flirt with a little darkness here and there, but killing people off at Star Trek's usual pace wouldn't just be wrong for the tone, it would be downright bizarre.

But... people die on Star Trek. That's one of the core themes of the show, really: space is full of knowledge and beauty, but also danger and terror, and believing that the former is worth the risk of the latter is (according to Trek) one of humanity's most noble traits. I'm the least bloodthirsty TV watcher I know, but the longer we went with a body count of nil—ships completely evacuated before they were destroyed, main characters hilariously maimed without permanent consequences, etc.—well, I didn't mind per se, but the absence of truly deadly stakes was definitely getting conspicuous.

Turns out they were saving it up for maximum impact. And holy fuck, I've never felt such a pit in my stomach watching a ship get destroyed that wasn't named Enterprise. It felt grim and brutal and somehow both much too quick and dreadfully inevitable—and yeah, it looked extremely fucking cool—and I'd like every other Star Trek property for the rest of time to take notes under a large bold heading labeled RESTRAINT.

Comedy doesn't need to do this, but my favourite comedy does, and in a way that few other art forms can even approach: lower my emotional defences by making me laugh, endear character(s) to me with goofy-but-relatable antics—then BAM, sucker-punch me in the motherfucking feels. M*A*S*H is probably the classic example on TV, Futurama was notorious for it, and even Archer has pulled it off a few times; it's also a staple of some of my favourite standup. I wasn't sure if Lower Decks was going to go there in Season 1—and wasn't sure if they'd earn it—but I knew if they did, that they'd nail it, and damn. Feels good to be right.

Last batch of notes for the season!!! I rambled enough already, so let's do it liveblog-style:

I fucking KNEW they were going to use "archive" visuals from TAS at some point, I KNEW IT :D

"THOSE OLD SCIENTISTS" ahahahahahahahahahahahaha

I like chill and confident Boimler a lot? You can really see—

oh bRADWARD NOOOOO

That opening shot of the Solvang tracking down to the red giant was extremely Discovery-esque... minus the motion sickness, that is

A lady captain AND a lady first officer? That's—oh hey, it's Captain Dayton's brand-new ship. Hahaha, that means they're totally fucked, right?.

Yep! They sure a—umm, wh—shit, okay, but—oh no—no, you can't—wait DON'T

...fuck

FUCK.

Narrator: "And then Amy needed a five-hour break."

[live-action Star Trek showrunner voice] "Gee, Mike! Why does CBS let you have two cold opens?"

Okay, yes, the bit with Rutherford cycling through all the different attitudes in his implant was transparently an excuse for Eugene Cardero to vamp while waiting for something to do in the story, but as far as I'm concerned they can contrive a reason for him to do a bunch of different silly Rutherfords in a row any time they damn well want, because that was classic!!!

EXOCOMP EXOCOMP EXOCOMP EXOCOMP

AND THE EXOCOMP IS PAINTED LIKE THE EXOCOMP IS WEARING A LITTLE EXOCOMP-SIZED STARFLEET UNIFORM

EXOCOMP!!!!!

The slow burn and now the payoff of the Mariner-is-Freeman's-secret-daughter plot has been executed so well. I'm beyond impressed with this writer's room, y'all—they are threading a hell of a needle here

"Wolf 359 was an inside job" would have been a spit-take if I'd had anything in my mouth

...how many memos do you think Starfleet Command has had to issue asking people to stop calling the USS Sacramento "the Sac"?

CAN WE TALK ABOUT HOW THEY'VE DECORATED THE SHUTTLECRAFT SEQUOIA THOUGH

Is, uh, is it weird if I'm starting to ship Tendi and Peanut Hamper a little? It is weird, isn't it. I knew it was weird...

Coital barbs??? I take back everything I said about wanting to know more about Shaxs/T'Ana.

The "good officer" version of Mariner is... kind of hot, tbh! But Tawny Newsome has done such a great job of building this character all season that her voice getting uncharacteristically clipped and martial and "sir! yes, sir!" is also deeply, deeply weird

Ah, so this is literally exactly like when TNG (and DS9) would bring in, and then blow up, a never-before-seen Galaxy-class ship, just to underscore that we're facing a real threat this week, baby. And hey, it fucking worked—my heart was in my throat, omg, for the reveal of the—

PAKLEDS?????????

The fucking PAKLEDS have been gluing weapons to their ships for the last 15 years. GREAT.

(We interrupt the SHIP BEING SLICED INTO SCRAP for an interesting bit of world-building: on Earth, the traditional First Contact Day meal is salmon!)

"I need a dangerous, half-baked solution that breaks Starfleet codes and totally pisses me off! That's an order." I'm starting to think Captain Freeman might actually be overqualified for the Cerritos, y'all—she's REALLY awesome

OH SHIT IT'S BADGEY, this is a TERRIBLE IDEA

"How much contraband have you hidden on my ship?" "I don't know! A lot!"

Awwww, Boims!!!

AHAHAHAHAHAHA, FUCK THIS, PEANUT HAMPER OUT

BADGEY NOOOOO

AUGHHHHH WHAT THE CHRIST DID HE JUST—BUT—RUTHERFORD'S IMPLANT????

RUTHERFORD!!!!!!!!!!

SHAXS!!!!!!

F U C K ! ! ! ! !

ahaIOPugdfhagntpgjrq90e5mgu90qe5;oigoqgw4ouegrw5SP;IAEHURVa IT’S THE TITAN???????????

IT'S CAPTAIN WILLIAM T. RIKER ON THE MOTHERFUCKING TITAN??????????

i'm screaming I'M SCREAMINGGGGGGTGGGTGQER;LBHAOIBVNV;OAPBIJNVagr;h;oagruipuwtnaetbaetgq35ghqet

I'M SO GLAD THIS WASN'T SPOILED FOR ME WTF

I AM WEEPING LIKE A CHILD

...

(Just a brief 20-minute pause this time)

And oh wow, seeing Will and Deanna hits different after Picard too, in a few different ways, which I may even get into later now that my heartrate is back to normal, lmao

Oh, I am always here for some jokes at the expense of the Sovereign class. The Enterprise-E sucked. They should have built a new bigger model of the D and new Galaxy-class interiors for the TNG movies, and I will die on that hill

OKAY, FINE, YOU GOT ME, RUTHERFORD × TENDI WOULD BE ADORABLE AND THIS IS ACTUALLY A PRETTY GOOD SETUP FOR IT

Awwww, Shaxs though :( Congrats on the single most badass death in Star Trek history, dude. The Prophets would—well, the actual Prophets would probably be slightly confused about most of it, but Kira Nerys would be proud of you and I feel like that probably counts for more. RIP, Papa Bear

I am here all damn DAY for the Mariner–Riker parallels, ahahahahaha

Pausing it to record my prediction that Boimler's commitment to not caring about rank anymore is going to last 3... 2...

Yep.

Bradward, how DARE YOU.

"Those guys had a long road, getting from there to here." OH FOR THE LOVE OF—

What a brilliant way to resolve and renew the various character arcs and relationships moving into Season 2! The writers could easily have brought everything back to status quo—chaotic Mariner fighting with her mom and being a bad influence on Boimler, etc.—and done another 10 just like these, but I suspect that wouldn't have been ambitious enough for these writers. What a blast. I cannot wait for more.

Thanks for following along, friends! Stay tuned for my (similarly patchy and amateur) coverage of Discovery, starting next week!

#star trek #star trek lower decks #lwd spoilers #lower decks spoilers #lower decks #amy's episode notes

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