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#in a few hours i will come back with a coherent opinion. just wait
the-way-astray · 26 days
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still deciding what my opinion on the new keefe art is
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legendary-guest · 5 months
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Commenting/reviewing fanfiction is a sure fire way to ensure that a fandom develops a community, which in turns encourages authors, from beginners to veterans, to continue writing. So, how do you engage with fanfic authors in a way that's meaningful and reflective of your appreciation for their work? - Read a fic more than once: Perhaps the best piece of advice I can provide to prep anyone for reviewing. You don't have to do it right after a first read (but hey, some stories are just that good!), you can wait and come back to it. A few hours, a day, a week, maybe longer depending on the time you have. When you return, read again or skim through, and jot down your thoughts. You will find they are much more coherent, and potentially constructive, than on your first reading. - Whatever sticks out to you, mention in your review: This will naturally happen in your time away from a fic, even if you forget the whole story. This is a pretty good sign that you enjoyed it! You should share this enjoyment, and with wild abandon, in your review! - Speculate and ask: If you have questions, ask them! If you are speculating, if you have a particular reading that you have lifted from a story, mention it! Authors, on the whole, tend to be very receptive to alternative views of their work. The exciting part in reviewing publicly is seeing what other readers have noticed that you haven't. It helps to generate a buzz, a hype, especially for multi-chapter fanfics. - Improvement doesn't happen in a vacuum, provide constructive criticism: Now, con. crit. has been deemed a social faux pas in the past decade or so in fandom that originates from this website. However, if you enjoy a story from an author but they have spelling errors, grammatical errors, even something more 'serious' like aspects of a story that aren't working, you should mention it, because it will stop them making similar mistakes in future. They can improve faster with your input. It also shows other fans that it is okay to make mistakes. Some authors take con. crit. poorly, either due to their age or other factors. You can usually tell the general maturity of an author by their writing and if they have responded to other commenters. Either way, their reaction to your con. crit. is their own, not yours. - Only review what you like: Reviewing should be enjoyable for you, the reader. Just like rambling on your Tumblr blog about character of the week, reviewing/commenting is your opportunity to do this on the website the fic is hosted on, whether that's AO3, FF.Net, or, reblogging a fic and adding your comment/review in your reblog. For you, the reader, it is there to develop a deeper appreciation for the story that you have read. You provide a knock-on effect in helping out the author, helping out other readers and fostering a community of people who can be open with their opinions, viewpoints, which in turn, generates more public discussion, more fan work, etc. Who should be reviewing fanfic? Everyone that reads fanfic! A more realistic answer would be people who have time to read fanfic but not write their own. Reviewing is a good way to engage in community without devoting a lot of your own creativity to it - you can even remain totally anonymous, depending on the platform. Reviewing can take a long time, or a short time, depending on the story. It's fun to find out! But remember, you shouldn't rush to get a review out for anyone, you work on it in your time and on your terms. Reviewing is for you, too! This is your chance to talk about what you love with someone who will be receptive to your enthusiasm - the author. If you want to get into fanfic, but have no idea where to start, I would suggest reviewing first! You will develop an eye for the style of writing that you like, particular characterisations you enjoy, amongst many other things. You might be inspired by other fanfics, too! Have an idea for a prequel, sequel, midquel for a fic you've read? What about an idea you saw in a fic that you'd love to explore more?
Or an alternative path/story that you saw but the author didn't take? Reviewing will help you to realise this.
You will enjoy fanfiction a lot more this way, too. Legacy fandoms, such as that of Star Trek, Star Wars, etc. have more staying power due to, not just the constant influx of official content, but because the people that write fanfiction have people who review them, and who review and critique them, respectfully.
I would love to see more people review! It's a really powerful gift that is at your disposal, dear reader. Who else can claim to bring those back from the dead? It could be you, it could be you…
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gyuphorias · 2 years
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hello hello! Can i request "wait you think i'm cute?" with dino? thank you!!!
hehe yes yes ofc!!
send me a prompt and an idol!!
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when you'd first met lee chan a handful of years ago, you thought he was one of the most obnoxious people you'd ever had come into your life. he was ridiculously loud, nearly insufferable, and a complete mess — all the makings of a teenage boy, really.
though your initial opinion of him has never really changed (even at his big age of 23, he's still obnoxious and annoying), you've come to appreciate him a lot more. he's charismatic enough for the both of you, unafraid to speak his mind, funny enough to break any tension in any situation. you've seen firsthand how he cares for those he loves most, his passion for his craft, the attentiveness he pays the things he finds value in.
even now, as you sit against the back wall and he struggles to nail down the choreography he's working on, he keeps his breath even, his face straight, his emotions tempered. you can tell he's agitated (he's been working on this choreography for close to five hours now), but he's not letting it show outright. instead, he draws even breaths, shakes himself out, and starts a few measures before the place he messed up.
the fifth hour comes and goes, and you know that much more of this and he is really going to put himself down for the count. the last thing he wants (and needs) is to be bedridden for a few days because he pushed himself too hard tonight. you decide to cut the music, which you've been operating for him since seungkwan tapped out and called it a night a couple of hours ago, and chan looks back at you, his eyebrows raised.
"just take a break for a little bit," you say, voice echoing easily off the towering walls. "please? you're gonna hurt yourself, chan, and then you really won't be able to perfect this dance."
even from a handful of feet away, you can see the understanding that passes over your friend's face, the small smile and gentle eyes: he knows you're right because you're always right, more often than not keeping him from doing too much damage to himself when he gets like this.
he easily crosses the space between you, plopping unceremoniously on the hardwood floor beside you. he's sweating and his chest is heaving a little, but he doesn't seem too winded. he's certainly a proper athlete, his body keeping him in equilibrium, despite the fact that he's pushing himself to the limit; it's something you could never do, at least the way that he does it.
"have you been keeping track of the time?" he questions, reaching for his water bottle.
you nod, recounting the five hours to him. he's all but missed dinner with the twelve other guys and you have too, having opted to take seungkwan's place so he could attend to other things on his agenda for the evening. you can tell chan feels a little bad about it, but sitting here and working music for him for hours on end is far better than sitting in your apartment, completely bored out of your mind, which is what you tell him every time this happens.
he groans loudly, boyishly, and then he becomes top heavy, sliding against the wall and then leaning forward, allowing the momentum to land him face-up in your lap. his eyes are closed and his hair is hanging in sweaty strands over his forehead.
he looks almost peaceful, you think, looking down at him in your lap. cute, too. you're realizing that for the first time.
"wait... you think i'm cute?" he asks, eyes opening and blinking up at you.
you pause and go stiff, staring down at him. you said that out loud? this is absolutely not how you figured you coming to terms with the crush you had on him would go.
you want to start apologizing when you really take in chan's expression. he doesn't seem mad or anything, not putting distance between you and him. no, instead, he's staring back at you, keeping his head nestled in your lap and smiling brightly. you're stuttering over an answer that is only halfbaked and not at all coherent when he starts chuckling, his shoulders shaking.
"it's okay. i promise," he says, sitting up and turning his body entirely towards you. "i think you're cute too."
that just sends you into overdrive even further and you really think you're about to keel over and die from the whiplash of emotions you're experiencing: understanding, mortification, embarrassment. leave it to lee chan to make you feel like this, apparently.
he's still chuckling at you and in an attempt to get you jumpstarted again, he stands and reaches a hand out toward you. you take it, mouth still opening and closing lamely, your mind still struggling to catch up to the situation at hand. he pulls you to your feet and then grabs both of your things, taking it upon himself to carry your bag and wrap his jacket around your shoulders.
"let's go get dinner. my treat," he says, reaching his hand back out towards you.
you take it once again, nodding a little dumbly. "okay, sounds good."
and for months and years down the line, chan will never let you forget that you accidentally confessed the exact moment you realized you had feelings for him and went temporarily mute. but he's cute, so you let it slide.
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letterstotheflre · 3 years
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my drug is my baby
summary: sirius is glad he was patient enough with you and takes part of what he has been craving most
warnings: daddy kink, a smidge of religious references, dacryphilia, overstimulation, fingering and oral sex (fem receiver), innocence/corruption kink
word count: 3.2k
a/n: i kinda hate this now but i think it’s because i read it too many times, idk || i think it's a universal experience to not being able to cum from your own fingers... right?? and we all know that sirius has a crying kink... also i think it’s so hot when they make you thank them for letting you cum, sue me!!
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Sirius Black liked to believe he was a patient man when he needed to be.
He was known for being reckless, always jumping into the next adventure without much thought, ready to follow James wherever he went. Most of the time he spoke without thinking, especially if he knew his comments would make his parents red with rage. Sometimes he didn’t even mean what he said, he just spewed whatever progressive or controversial opinion he had in hopes of making his mother’s heart stop beating.
He revelled in making rash decisions, somehow always ending up being benefited by them. He never gave much thought to anything: always doing his homework last minute yet somehow still getting top marks, taking some jokes too far, never taking into consideration other people’s safety unless they were close friends.
Some may call him selfish, but he liked not having to put too much thought into every single action. He spent most of his childhood walking on eggshells, afraid of saying the wrong thing and being punished or worse, Regulus taking the beating for him. But now that he finally escaped the Black family, he enjoyed the freedom that came with leaving Grimmauld Place.
He enjoyed breaking rules and creating chaos. It made him feel mighty, knowing he had the power to make all of those choices, still coming out on top, and see how they affected certain people. Most applauded him, revered him for being so spontaneous and adventurous; others couldn’t stand him, complaining about his mean jabs and sometimes harmful pranks.
Yet he knew how to wait for the things he deemed important or worthy. He knew that it was best to wait for Euphemia’s cherry pie to cool down before eating it, to wait for three days after the full moon to make a werewolf joke to Remus, to wait a few hours after James lost a Quidditch match to suggest a quick trip to The Three Broomsticks. And he knew it was best to wait for you.
Good things come to those who wait, that was his mantra. Of course, most of his restraint when it came to you was because he cared deeply about you and your comfort, but his conscience also drove him to keep his hands to himself. Every time his hands were about to go under your skirt, every time he heard your breathy moans when he kissed your neck, every time you looked at him with pouty lips begging for a kiss and his fingers craved to squeeze your neck, he took a step back. He felt so guilty for tainting something that in his mind was so pure, so he just held you close and peppered your face with kisses until you giggled.
But the thought of you being so untouched and how bashful you looked when he teased you or someone made a sexual comment made him want to ruin your innocence. Something inside him craved to see you tainted, to have you writhing under him as he rolled his hips against yours while you clutched his shoulders. He wanted to take that holiness you had and turn it into something so sinful that there was no way for you to ask for redemption.
And when you opened the door and took the first step, who was he to deny you?
He dragged everything out. Since the day when he taught you how to touch yourself, he wanted to make you wait for every sexual act that followed. He wanted to see how long it would take for you to beg him for some relief.
So today during a lecture when you looked at him with glazed over eyes and begged him to help you relieve the strange ache you felt in your stomach since you woke, he decided to be benevolent and give you some relief. He swiftly moved his hand under your skirt (thanking God that most of your closet consisted of that particular piece of clothing and dresses) and pushed aside your underwear before his fingers made way between your dripping folds. He didn’t enter you, just played with your clit until you had to bite the back of your hand to muffle your moans.
But when you whispered a small “thank you, daddy” and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, the only thing he wanted to do was take you back to his room and press you to the bed until your legs shook and tears ran down your cheeks. His eyes quickly scanned the classroom to make sure no one saw or heard anything, shoulders tense because of your words. All he could see were students with their own glassy eyes as they listened to whatever the professor was talking about. Fucking tease, Sirius thought.
And now, as he watched you on your knees and clutching his leg, lips pouty and cheek nuzzling his jean covered thigh, he was thankful for being patient enough.
“Please, Sirius, they’re back,” you said. He knew exactly what you were talking about, but played dumb as one hand petted your hair. “What’s back, baby?”
“The tingles,” you explained.
“And you need me to fix it, hm?” A small taunt was evident in his tone. “Your hands aren’t enough anymore, right bunny?”
Your cheeks warmed up at the implication, nevertheless, you shook your head. You still managed to make yourself cum, but the way Sirius could play with your clit like an experienced musician and how his big hands moved your hips along his jean covered leg would never compare to your dainty digits. The thought of his big fingers inside of you was enough to increase the tingles, and your hands pressed down on your stomach trying to soothe the pain.
“Please, Sirius, it hurts so bad,” you whimpered.
“Use your words, angel. Be good,” he said. You looked up at him with watery eyes, your mind already slipping and not letting you form too many coherent thoughts. “Please, daddy,” you sniffled.
He kept petting your head. “What do you want, angel?” He asked, looking almost bored with the situation as he listened to your pleads. “Anything,” you whined.
He shook his head, mocking disappointment. “You know you have to ask for what you want, puppy.” Even though he wasn’t angry, honestly a little amused at your desperation, his voice was stern, trying to engrave his rules in your fuzzy brain.
Your hands squeezed his leg, “I need you… down there.”
“You need to be clearer.''
You closed your eyes. You hated being so crass, but Sirius certainly had no qualms about it. “I need you… in my pussy,” you got out. But it wasn’t enough, not for Sirius who longed to ruin every aspect of your innocence. “What do you want, baby? D’ya want my fingers or my tongue?”
“Both,” you whined. Bingo, he thought with a dark smirk that would’ve sent shivers down your spine if you weren’t absolutely drenching and desperate for his touch. “Up you get, puppy,” he said, “lay on the bed f’me.”
You got on the bed right next to him, your head laying on one of your fluffy pillows. Your dress rode up a bit with your movements, but it didn’t really matter, and you pressed your legs together trying to relieve some of the tension while you waited for Sirius to do something. He simply watched you, taking in the image of you wriggling in place and toying with the rings he bought you for your birthday.
You felt a soft touch on your calves, and it gave you a fluttering feeling in your stomach. Sirius’s hands were moving slowly up your legs, nudging them apart without needing much force since you complied immediately. You were about to burst, ready to scream at him to just get on with it, but decided to keep quiet.
One of his hands made its way to the edge of your dress, swiftly going under it and his fingers slightly grazing your clothed pussy. Your hips bucked at the soft touch, but then just as quickly as it came it was gone. “No, come back!” you implored, reaching for Sirius’s wrist but being too slow.
Sirius arched one eyebrow, “What was that?”
“I’m sorry!” you cried out, “M’sorry, I just need you so bad. It hurts.” But Sirius remained where he was, arms now crossed over his chest as he looked at you. His eyes were full of disappointment and you wanted to cry, “What’s gotten into you today? You were so demanding in class before, so bratty, I don’t think you deserve it at all.” He was stretching the truth, you were by far the least bratty person he had ever been with, but he couldn’t help himself when he saw how much his words affected you.
A few tears fell at his words, “No, no, m’not bratty. I’m a good girl, daddy. I promise I’ll be so so good, your best girl! I won’t ask for anything more, m’sorry.'' You were saying anything you could to convince him that you were still his good girl, his angel.
Your lips were quivering and your chest was heaving with sobs you tried to keep inside; babbling apologies and trying to convince him that you would never act like this again, and he finally took pity on you. His hands gripped your ankles and opened your legs so he could lay comfortably between them. He could see a dark patch on your lavender underwear, and he huffed out a laugh with a slightly amused shake of his head. “I forgive you, bunny, but you’ll have to take everything that I give you. D’you think you can do that f’me?”
You nodded eagerly, choking a small ‘thank you’ as you tried to control your breath. He grabbed the ends of your dress and bunched it up over your waist, not bothering to take it off. He licked a strip over your underwear and the combination of his warm tongue with the friction of the cotton cloth was enough to make you mewl.
Sirius could not deny that he had been craving to taste you once more after he licked your fingers clean that day, and now only getting a smidge of your taste from what seeped through your underwear drove him insane. He needed to taste you completely, so he quickly pulled them off and pocketed them in the back of his jeans.
He used his fingers to spread your folds wide open, staring hungrily at all the slick that had gathered. “Oh puppy, look at the mess you’ve already made,” he crooned. “Y’re dripping, d’ya really need me this bad?”
“Yes, so so bad. Please, daddy.” He was so close, his warm breath hitting your wet folds and making you tremble in anticipation.
You watched, using your elbows to raise yourself a little, as he slowly started to take his rings off. “Hold ‘em for me, bunny, don’t want them to get dirty,” he said as he slid his chunky rings into your fingers. The metal dangled a little because of the size difference, so you closed your hands to keep them from falling.
Finally, his tongue made contact with your clit and you sighed in relief. It was followed by a moan when he started to suck on it, making sure to swirl his tongue all around before slurping. He looked like a starved man that finally came into contact with some sweet fruit, moving his head around your pussy to have you gushing on him. The ache in your tummy was slowly decreasing, now replaced with a nice fluttering feeling.
Your whines and moans echoed through his ears, resembling the most beautiful angel choir he had ever heard. He pulled away for a moment, “I’ve been waiting to taste you for days, puppy. S’better than I remembered.”
The more he pushed his tongue inside you, the more your legs shook. You involuntarily closed them, your pillowy thighs acting as earmuffs around Sirius’s head. He let them rest there for a few seconds before pushing them open once more, adding more fervour to his movements, eager to drink your sweet ambrosia.
Your closed fists went to his head, and you opened them a little to grip his hair, trying to ground yourself. “Gonna cum, daddy, can I?” You breathed out. Sirius just hummed, sending vibrations that were enough to make you let go. You tried to close your legs once more, but his shoulders prevented you from doing so. You felt like you were floating, your brain shutting off for a few seconds before returning to earth.
But Sirius didn’t stop moving his tongue, one of his fingers circling your hole before entering you slowly. Just one of his fingers felt like two of yours, even though you knew it wasn’t an accurate comparison. The stretch this time burned more than when you touched yourself, and you whined while shaking your head. “Too much, s’too much.”
Sirius paused for a moment so he could press your legs to your chest with one hand while the other kept moving in and out of you. The sudden switch in position made you gasp, but not as much as when Sirius thrust his fingers hard. “Are you dumb? I told you you had to take everything I gave you. D’you want to make me mad again?”
More tears fell when he curled his fingers, expertly finding that spongy spot inside you that pumped white heat through your veins. The way they twisted resembled a musician fiddling with a harp, your needy whines accompanying them like the main act. “No no, I can take it” you gasped, drowning in bliss as his fingers kept hitting the perfect spots.
You were already so close, Sirius giving you no respite as he quickly pushed his fingers. Your hand gripped his arm, fingertips digging the ink-covered skin. “C-close,” you whined, eyes rolling back and mouth open as you felt the tension ready to break.
“Going to make more of a mess, angel?” he grumbled, and you tried to nod as much as you could in your constricted position. Sirius chuckled, “Dirty little thing. Go on, I’ve got you.”
You whimpered brokenly as he pulled another orgasm from you. It felt like his fingertips were scrapping your insides to drag it out, and your feet dangled in the air as you swung them while trying to grab his wrist to stop him from moving.
Sirius couldn’t tear his eyes from you, with your pretty tears dripping down your cheeks and your chest heaving with small sobs from how good you felt. For him, all for him and only ever for him, because no one had ever touched you like he has and no one else ever would. “You look so pretty like this,” he cooed. “God I love your tears, baby, look how hard you make me.”
Your eyes moved down his body—when had he taken off his shirt? His tattoos splayed over his toned muscles made you clench around his fingers. You adored the small drawings that covered most of his body, they looked so beautiful on him and you just wanted to cry even more at how pretty your boyfriend was. When your eyes moved lower, following his previous instruction, you could see there was already a bulge in his pants that you knew was his cock, and your mouth watered at the thought of it just resting against his stomach like it did the first time you sucked him.
“I wanna feel you,” you cried while stretching your hands to touch him. He let you, your soft palms going over his chest and grabbing his shoulders so you could pull him down. “Kissie,” you breathed, letting his lips hover over yours for a second before kissing you hard and messily. His tongue played with yours and it only added more fuel to the fire inside you.
A moan broke you apart when his fingers resumed their pace, “P-please, no more” you babbled, the stimulation too much to bear.
“How are you gonna take my cock if you can’t take my fingers, hm?” He asked and you whined, his fingers burying themselves up to his knuckles and making your eyes roll back once more. Your mouth was dry from being constantly open, whimpers and moans constantly escaping from the open cavity. “Come on, one more, I know you have it in you. My good girl aren’t you?”
The squelching sounds were so dirty and they rang through your ears,  yet even through your fuzzy mind you could discern the important words, “Y-your good girl,” you managed to get out with a smile, glad to be praised by him.
His other hand pressed down on your legs even more, and now you could see the way the digits moved in and out of you, a slight sheen coating the skin every time they came out. “God, you were right, bunny, you are tight,” he grunted, “I don’t think I’ll ever fit, m’gonna break you.”
At that, your eyes widened. “No no, you’ll fit, daddy!” But he just chuckled at your desperation, “M’gonna break you in half, angel. Do you want that? Do you want me to split you open?”
A small chant of ’yes’ and ‘please’ echoed through the room. You could feel another wave coming, ready to wash over you as your toes curled in anticipation. It was like you were dangling on the edge, your hands holding on for dear life as you tried to hold on, and your moans grew louder and louder with every thrust Sirius gave.
Your clenching walls around his digits were warning enough for him, and he kept his eyes on your form as you struggled to keep it at bay, waiting for his permission. He watched as your ring clad fingers scrambled to the sheets, gripping them tightly as your head moved from side to side. “That’s it, bunny, let go f’me” and with one harsh thrust, you slackened the hold you had on your release and finally let go.
If you felt like you were still on your body you would’ve screamed. A white heat engulfed you as your vision grew hazy, your hips raising of their own accord and aiding Sirius in dragging your orgasm out. You looked so beautiful like this, a sweaty sheen on your skin and now tangled up hair sticking to your forehead. Sirius leant down, tongue cleaning the fallen tears before they dried, and you couldn’t help the moan that escaped you.
He grabbed your face, squishing your spit covered cheeks. “What do you say, angel?”
With a shuddering breath, you looked into his stormy eyes as he cleaned your release from his fingers with his tongue. “Thank you, daddy.”
You tried to lower your legs, but Sirius kept them in place. You stared at him, confused, yet he was staring at your puffy cunt, all shiny and stretched out for him. A smirk covered his lips as he finally looked at you, “I think y’re finally ready for m’cock, angel.”
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undercityviktor · 3 years
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Late Night Lab Confessions
A late night love confession in the lab between Jayce and Viktor.
Hope you enjoy it! I’m aiming to put it on AO3 when I get a new account for my Arcane shenanigans, but for now you can find my writing here. (I also wrote another fluffy one about Jayce offering Viktor a ticket to the Opera House on Winterfest.)
Rating: Teen, light nsfw (kiss), occasional curse word let Jayce say fuck sometimes, ok? Content warning: very brief allusion to Jayce’ suicidal moment in Act 1, Viktor’s attitude could be interpreted as low self-worth when it comes to his appearance and accent and origins. Wordcount: 2333
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“Viktor!”
Viktor jumped almost out of his skin at the sudden yell. The steel graver skated over the brass plate he’d been meticulously working on for the past two hours, and it left a deep gouge in the polished metal, nearly taking a chunk out of his finger too. He exhaled. The plate was ruined.  
Turning awkwardly in his seat at the workbench he stared at the lab doors as they ricocheted off the wall and slammed shut, and Jayce barrelled in looking like something was about to explode in the corridor behind him. Viktor’s back brace creaked and dug into his ribs but he ignored it with a half-wince that usually ended up disguised as a scowl.  
“Jayce, whatever is the matter? I thought you were at the Kirammans’ Winterfest party? Has something happened?”
“I was,” he panted, coming to a lurching halt and standing in front of Viktor, staring at him with his hazel eyes wide and glassy.  
“Are you alright? Did… Did you forget something here?”
“No, yes, I mean… yes I’m alright, but…” Jayce exhaled roughly and looked away and then back at Viktor before trying to sort his words into a more coherent order.  
He often got like this when he was excited about a new idea, and Viktor was no stranger to waiting him out, waiting for him to untangle his words and get them across in a way that made sense, but he found himself slightly perturbed by the feverish light in Jayce’s eyes and the stippling of sweat at his temples.  
“I was talking to some of the guests about what we’ve been doing here in the lab — together — but they all just assumed it’s me on my own, despite how many fucking times I’ve told them it’s a partnership —”
Jayce scrunched his fingers into his forelock so hard Viktor nearly rose from his seat to pull his hand away. Jayce growled and bared his teeth, chest heaving like the bellows in the forge before he closed his eyes and seemed to slump.
“Vik,” he breathed, and Viktor’s heart lurched oddly in his chest the way it always did when Jayce called him that.  
Viktor dipped his head and then looked up at Jayce when he didn’t elaborate. “… Yes?” 
“Fuck,” his friend hissed. “Look, I know you loathe these things — parties and conferences and all that…”
“Yes, I… do believe I made my opinions on all that perfectly clear, very early on. I have no interest in recognition, Jayce. I only care that our work gets done.”
“I know. You called it ‘superficial salamander shit’ if I remember…” he grinned, eyes glinting, and Viktor snorted.  
“Did I? How crass of me,” he said with a flat sarcasm that lit Jayce’s eyes up again in a way that made something painful and ugly coil and writhe inside Viktor’s chest. Jayce was one of the very few people who seemed to get his odd, dry sense of humour.  
Jayce’s frantic, spiked emotions softened the longer he stood in the quiet, cool air of the lab with Viktor, but when he looked back at him, there was something painfully sad in Jayce's eyes. He swallowed thickly and snatched a breath but didn’t speak.  
“Jayce?” Viktor prompted again in a soft undertone.
“Right. Yeah. So… Will you come and join me? At the Kirammans’ party, I mean. Now? Just this once?”
Genuine horror plummeted through Viktor and he recoiled and shook his head. “Jayce, I… I can’t… Not with all those… people…”
“You mean all those posh Pilties?”
Hearing the Undercity term roll so easily off Jayce’s tongue took him off guard. Still, it was true. He had indeed been about to say ‘Pilties’. “…Exactly,” he said. “Jayce, they don’t want to see someone like me when they’re hearing about magic and hexgates and technical ‘impossibilities’.” He stressed the word and waved his hand at their latest, half-built creation on the workbench. “They don’t want to hear my thick Undercity accent or look at me hanging off my crutch while I bore them to death with frequencies and conductive materials... They need their Golden Boy.”
Jayce scowled but did let him finish.
“In you, they see their own invincibility and cleverness and successes reflected back at them. All they see when they look at me is a trench rat.”
Jayce’s brows knotted, his hands already balled into fists, and he snarled. He even took half a step towards him that actually had Viktor leaning back. “Don’t you dare talk about yourself like that. You’re nothing like that, and you know it.”
“Like what?” he asked carefully, cocking an eyebrow.  
“You’re so much more than that, can’t you see it? Can’t you see how brilliant you are? None of this would be possible without you. Hell, Vik, I wouldn’t even be alive without you.”
Jayce didn’t talk often about that night, about the desperate state of mind he’d worked himself into, but whenever Viktor conjured the image of Jayce teetering on the ledge of his ruined bedroom, it filled him with a cold dread that sometimes took hours to drain away. That someone like Jayce, with so much vital potential, so much to live for, had even considered throwing away his life was anathema to Viktor, but more than that, the idea of the man’s glowing brilliance being snuffed out by a long, ignominious fall to the dark ground below was… horrifying.  
A world without Jayce’s light seemed unbearable, unfathomable, to Viktor.  
He hadn’t realised his eyes had brimmed with tears until Jayce knelt swiftly down in front of Viktor’s stool, landing heavily on his knees and snatching up Viktor’s hand in both of his. Gods, his hands were big and warm and rough, but oh so gentle. Always so gentle. Viktor shuddered, unable to stop the trembling once it started.  
“Shit, don’t cry, Vik. I’m sorry I pushed. I’m sorry I’m always so bull-headed and self-centred. I’m… I just… I wish everyone else could see what I see when I look at you, that’s all. I wish you could see it too.”
Blinking rapidly had no effect on stemming the tears that flowed freely and silently down Viktor’s gaunt cheeks as Jayce knelt at his feet and clung to his right hand. With his left hand, Viktor brought it trembling to the crown of Jayce's head and stroked his fingers through the soft, black forelock and over his head to the velvet-soft undercut at the back. “Jayce,” he choked.  
Jayce tilted his head and pressed his lips to Viktor’s knuckles where he still held his hand. “I love you, Viktor,” he whispered, eyes downcast. “I love you. I know you don’t feel that way for me, and I won’t push it or bring it up again, but I need you to know you’re everything to me.”
Viktor tried to curl forwards, thinking vaguely of kissing Jayce’s head, of finally burying his nose in Jayce’s soft hair and simply inhaling the forge-smoke aura that always clung to him, but his brace suddenly dug into his ribs and his hips at the top and bottom, and it robbed him of breath for a moment. He pulled up sharply and tilted his face to the ceiling for a moment, trying to catch his breath, tears still rolling down his face.  
Instead of a kiss, he squeezed Jayce’s hand with his fingers as hard as he could and whispered his reply in the language of his childhood.  
“What?” Jayce croaked, looking up.  
Viktor took a deep breath and lowered his gaze back down to Jayce. The way he was looking at him, all hope tinged with a little, frantic, fluttering fear, made Viktor’s whole chest constrict. In a voice he wished was far stronger, he spoke. “I said, luchik, that I love you too.”
For a long second, Jayce just stared at him, and Viktor wondered fleetingly if he had actually switched languages to something Jayce would understand, but when Jayce reared up to his feet from his kneeling vigil on the floor and flung his arms around Viktor’s neck, drawing Viktor’s head to rest against his stomach, Viktor finally laughed.  
He slid his skinny arms around Jayce’s hips and let himself be held for what had to be the first time in over a decade. Jayce was always so free with his touches, but he had never — not even on the day they'd got the hexgates working — held him like this. Jayce stroked his hair and laughed before pulling back a little and bringing his right hand to Viktor’s chin, tilting it up.
“You’re serious?” he asked, his gaze flickering back and forth between Viktor’s eyes as he searched for some untruth. “Please tell me you’re serious — that I’m not hallucinating after not enough sleep and a looming deadline?”
“I would never lie about something like that, Jayce,” Viktor said. “And… if you really want me to, I will accompany you tonight, but I must warn you that my presence will probably not have the effect you’re after.”
“I don’t care,” he said, one hand now on Viktor’s shoulder. “I wanted you at my side, where you belong. It’s our project. Our Hextech dream.”
Viktor nodded, wondering just what he’d let himself in for. “Should I… change? I don’t have anything as smart as your Council getup, you know?” he said, eyeing it. It did look very good on those broad shoulders.  
“You’re fine as you are,” Jayce mumbled. “Caitlyn is wearing her enforcer uniform to piss off her mother.”
Viktor smiled. Caitlyn was an idealist with little real-world experience, but he was rapidly warming to her.  
“Let me, uh, just tidy up my notes a little,” he said, turning back to the desk behind him. His heart was still beating too fast and his breath was still rasping and hard to catch.  
Jayce loved him.  
Jayce had told him he loved him.  
On his knees.  
Damn, if that wasn’t an image that was going to stay with Viktor for a long, long time.  
After scraping his nerves and his notes together, he pushed himself to his feet and fought off an inevitable wave of biting cramps in his right leg and hip, the spasms travelling up his spine and rendering him almost blind for a moment as pain overwhelmed all his senses. A warm weight pressed against his lower back and he opened his eyes a moment later to find Jayce standing quietly beside him, one hand on the small of his back, watching.
His eyes formed the question his lips didn’t speak, and Viktor nodded. “I’m alright,” he croaked. “Thank you.”
Jayce nodded once and stepped back, passing the crutch that he’d made for Viktor in the forge only a year ago. It fitted him to perfection, and had been made with as much meticulous attention as had the hexgates.
They closed up the lab together without talking, and Viktor walked beside Jayce down the corridor feeling like he was in a dream.  
“Vik?”
“Mm?”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Evidently.”
Jayce snorted. “What was that word you said?”
“Which word?”
Jayce held the door open for him at the far end of the corridor and stepped out behind him, catching up in a single stride. “You said something in your mother tongue when you… before… back then…”  
“When I told you I love you?” he pressed, just to watch Jayce blush.  
“Yeah.”
“Mmm, was it perhaps, luchik?”
“Yeah, that.”
He rolled his eyes. Now it was his turn to squirm. “It’s… a term of endearment. Suitable for our Golden Boy, I think.”
“What does it mean?”
“Mmm… It… It varies a little depending on the context, but something akin to ‘ray of light’ or ‘sunbeam’ might be a suitable translation.”
Jayce halted so abruptly that it took Viktor two paces to realise and stop himself. He turned and found Jayce staring at him, watery eyed again. “I want something to call you, Vik.”
He laughed at Jayce’s almost childlike desire for balance, for fairness. “You’ve already got something to call me that no one else does. You call me ‘Vik’.”
“Yeah, but… something with meaning.”
He rolled his eyes. “You don’t just give yourself a nickname, Jayce. That’s not… It doesn’t work like that.”
“Please? Something?” he said, closing the gap and taking Viktor’s breath away again as he casually reached up and took his face in both hands.
Warmth suffused his jaw and he lost himself in the warm, autumn greens of Jayce’s eyes. He almost missed the sounds that came from Jayce’s full lips because of it. 
“Can I kiss you?”
Viktor blinked. “What, here in the hallway? Anyone could see, Jayce.”
A protective light kindled in Jayce’s eyes and he scowled. “Let them. I want the world to know I’m yours. I’ve been yours since the day you believed in me and handed me back my cuff,” he said, tilting his wrist to show the spent gem in the leather band. Viktor tipped his head slightly to nuzzle that hand a little more. “But if you’re not comfortable with—”
With a roll of his eyes, Viktor reached out with his right hand and snagged Jayce’s collar, dragging him closer and kissing him with everything he had.  
Jayce’s whole body yielded to the kiss, melting around Viktor with a decadent moan and he closed his eyes, his big hands straying down to Viktor’s waist and squeezing his bony hips hard as Viktor swayed towards him.  
When they parted, Jayce’s lips were puffy and his eyes shone. “You’re perfect,” he whispered.
“Come on,” Viktor grunted, setting off again. “If we’re going to make it to the Kirammans’ before midnight, we should get going now.”
Jayce’s knuckles brushed against those of Viktor’s right hand, and with a quick, stolen glance up at Jayce through his eyelashes, Viktor laced his fingers with Jayce's.
As they left the main building and stepped out into the chilly winter air, Viktor mumbled, “You could start with Vitya.”
___
I’m a new sideblog, so reblogs and the like are hugely welcome! I’ll link my new AO3 when it’s up. Don’t forget to tell me if you want to see more, or if you’ve got a jayvik (or caitlyn/vi) request. I’m always up for an idea!
Stay safe, and Happy Holidays.
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scaramoucheslove · 3 years
Note
PLEASE expand more on that Zhongli brat tamer thing you posted 🥺
Brat Tamer! Zhongli x Brat!Reader (GN)
Listen to me
What to expect: Spanking, Size kink?(a bit), Choking, Teasing in public, Getting called “whore” once I swear, Zhongli as ur god, fingering? lmk if I missed anything!
A/N: AAA BRAT TAMER ZHONGLI NEEDS MORE APPRECIATION </33
(also im so sorry if this is shit even tho i spent so much time writing it?? hurr i apologize and i tried to make it as gn as possible! <33)
Zhongli loves an obedient sub that listens to him and obey his rules. You, were the perfect little baby for him. You were his obedient, perfect little baby. Sure, you’ve been accidentally bad a couple times here and there. But imagine if someday, you were curious enough to see what’s it like to test his limit. So, when you were acting out of the ordinary, of course he’d be suspicious.
It all started when you both woke up. He’d always wake up first, usually drinking tea at the dinner table and you’d always greet him. But today, you felt a little braver than usual and decided to just ignore him and went ahead to the kitchen to grab your breakfast. He raised his brow, but thought nothing much of it. You put your plate on the table and played with your phone while eating your food.
Zhongli cleared his throat, causing you to look at him with a confused look on your face. “Good morning” he said with a smile, a fake one if I may add. You ignored him and continued to play your phone and eat your food. You could see his smile fade away in the corner of your eye. “I expect a response, no?” you looked at him, and his expression seems blank. “Uh, morning?” you answered blankly before continuing to ignore him. He sighs in defeat, standing up to prepare a hot shower to cool him off.
Zhongli said he’ll be meeting up with a few people for a while, and of course you being you, decided to tag along. You were confused on what to wear—until you remembered your little plan to push his buttons. You smirked at yourself before thinking. You had an idea. You put on the most revealing clothes you’ve ever worn out in public just to mess with him. Once you were done getting ready, he doesn’t say a single word. His gaze was enough to make a person tremble, thus why you were averting his eyes the whole time. He simply grabs your hands and wrapped it around his and said nothing more than a simple “Let’s go.”
You finally arrived at the Teahouse after quite some time. The moment you two opened the door, all eyes were on you. You looked absolutely stunning. Your looks may even be enough to tempt a god. Zhongli clearly tried to ignore the situation and dragged you to the back and seated you both at the corner of the Teahouse.
The meeting overall was boring. Although it was pretty boring, you had to admit that hearing people talking about Morax and acting as if they know more than Morax himself was kind of funny. You yawned in boredom and continued to look around before your eyes landed to your boyfriend’s figure that was sitting right beside you. His eyes that are completely focused, the way he talks, and the way his tall figure is sitting straight, asserting dominance through small, simple things. You couldn’t help but feel excited just by looking at him. Your excitement caused you to land your hand on your boyfriend’s thighs as he was listening to some people talking and discussing about the geo archon. He looked at you, confused and you gave him a small, sweet innocent smile, in which he returned.
But what he didn’t expect was for your hand to go higher and higher, until he realized that your hand was basically almost touching his dick. Before you could do anything further, he slapped your hand away and came closer to your ear to whisper, “Behave.” That action alone caused you to shiver and it tempted you even more. Biting your lower lip, you decided to wait for the right moment. After everyone was done talking and discussing, they asked for Zhongli’s opinion. And just right before he gets the chance to talk, you took the chance and managed to place your hand between his pants without raising any suspicions. He flinched slightly, earning worried looks from other people and workers. “My apologies, I thought I saw something.” He said as he kept his composure. And surprisingly enough, they believed him. Thank god you were seated in the corner so that no one could see what was actually happening between the two of you. You palmed him through his pants slowly as he explained about his opinion. You could hear the slight shake on his voice and clearing his throat way more than he normally does, even though he looked completely focused and well composed. “Mr. Zhongli? Are you feeling alright?” someone said in which he responded with a slight nod, and a pinch to your thighs as a warning. You gasped quietly in surprise and stopped your ministrations before looking at him. His stare was menacing, daring you to make another move. In which you responded by looking the other way and pouting as you rest your hands that was palming him a few seconds ago on the table.
The trip back home was silent. You didn’t dare utter a word, not after all that. You looked fine and chill on the outside, But inside? You were trembling. Was it really a good idea to make your god angry? Is it even worth it? Your thoughts were racing as you asked yourself. But there was no turning back.
You walked inside the house slowly, trying to keep calm and collected. You knew you were in deep trouble the moment he shuts the door with a slam. You saw a glimpse of his beautiful, black hair with a gradient, glowing, neon orange color near the ends of his hair, which usually occurred where he’s focused like in battles, or if he’s really pissed. You didn’t really want to test him any further, so you just decided to follow his next commands and obey him. “What has gotten into you?” He asked, voice demanding for an answer. You turned to him, looking to the ground instead while fiddling your hands. He clicked his tongue and forcefully held your chin so you were met with his amber colored eyes. “Talk” He demanded. You were unable to form coherent words and ended up stuttering on your words. He shakes his head in disapproval and practically dragged you into the bedroom.
He lets you go once you’ve both reached your shared bedroom. You watched as he sat himself on the edge of the bed, looking down and letting out a sigh. The moment his eyes met yours, you immediately looked down, not prepared for his eyes to pierce through you so sudden.
“Strip.” He said lowly. Calmly. But you knew him. It’s always the calm before the storm. You stood there, silently, not moving in the slightest. You could feel the tension in the room. He was disappointed. Of course he was! He had all the reasons to be. He walked towards you slowly, observing the outfit you wore. One of his gloved hand stroking it smoothly as his other hand gripped your jaw gently and made you look into his eyes. “Tsk, I have given you such a simple task. But I know you humans simply cannot do anything yourselves.” He practically spat as he tore your clothes off with both hands. Your eyes widened, mouth slightly opened and you froze due to shock as he chuckled at your reaction.
His two hands grabbed you by the shoulders and threw you onto the bed roughly, a contrast to his gentle grip on your jaw earlier. You continued to freeze in your place and he took the chance to pin both your hands with one of his, as his big and strong body kept your smaller one caged. You tried to get out of his grip. But it was no use. No matter how much you try, he will always overpower you.
“Tell me, love. Were you being a brat on purpose?” He asked you with a teasing tone on his voice. You closed your eyes and gave up, exhaling the breath you didn't notice you've been holding while nodding your head slowly in shame and embarrassment. He chuckled lowly as he lets both of your hand go and flipped you over. You yelped in surprise as he positioned himself so that your stomach was on his lap and he places his hand to rub gently on your ass.
You cried out, “Zhongli please I’m sorry-“ “Now, now. It’ll hurt a bit. But you mortals really need to be taught a lesson to know their place.” He says as one of his hand stroked your hair and the other continued to move gentle motions on your ass. “Zhongli pleas-“ Smack. A loud noise echoed across the room as you jolted forward and you felt your eyes beginning to water. “Can you just listen to me, brat?” his voice sounded clearly annoyed. The room was quiet for a while, until he broke the silence. “Stay silent and take it like the good pet I know you are.”
The sound of your cries and sniffles could be heard in the rather silent room. You were sobbing, hands starting to go numb as you gripped them onto the bedsheets, your ass sore and red from all the painful and harsh smacks Zhongli has delivered. You were trembling. It felt like hours since he started and it never seemed to end. He eventually stopped and started caressing the spots he had abused minutes before. “I’m sorry my love, but If I don’t do this then… you’ll never learn from your mistakes.” He explained. You were still sobbing, but a part of you was relieved that it was over.
He got you off his lap and laid you down carefully onto the bed as you finally closed your eyes, trying to calm yourself down. That is until you feel a hand tracing your back and onto your underwear. You felt him come closer as he whispered in your ear “Seems like someone got excited. Well, it isn’t really a punishment if you enjoyed it. Don’t you agree?” you can feel his hot breath fanning your ear.
He flipped you over, your back now facing the bed. You hissed slightly at the sting because your ass still hurts from his ministrations. He gently spread both of your legs apart as he sat himself in between your now-parted thighs and pulled your underwear down, in which he threw across the room. You tried to cover yourself up but again, it was no use. You were now exposed for him and his eyes to devour. “But I’ll have to admit, seeing you in that revealing outfit where everyone can see really makes me…” he paused as he searched for the right word before continuing. “Jealous.” You prayed to the archons to make it out alive before answering him. “Oh? M-maybe you’re just mad they can probably fuck me better than you.” You’ve done it. You took back what you said about obeying him, but at the wrong time. “Getting brave now, are we? How ironic for someone who cried over a punishment moments ago.” he bitterly chuckles. “Well then, we’ll just have to see how hard I’ll break you tonight.”
He took off his gloves and immediately gathered some of your wetness on his fingers, combining it with the drool he managed to get at the corners of your mouth. He wastes no time as he inserts one finger into your needy hole. You gasped and held onto the bedsheets once more, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. God, his fingers were long. You can feel him filling you up as he kept pistoning one finger in and out of you. But then you started to whine for more. For him to fill you up more. “Humans are indeed greedy, but you’re my greedy little human, aren’t you whore?” you scrambled over your words before he used his free hand to wrap it around your throat and tightening his hold around it. “Answer.” He stopped moving completely and you whined as you finally managed to answer. “Y-yes!” “Yes what?” “Yes, my lord.”
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dorimena · 3 years
Text
𝕷𝖆𝖈𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕮𝖆𝖐𝖊
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𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯; bakugou katsuki
𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱; 1.4k
𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰; fem!reader, lingerie, sex toy (vibrating butt plug), implied edging, implied overstimulation, pegging, mommy kink, dacryphilia, dom!reader, sub!reader
𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰; garterbelt, dry orgasms, didn’t know lima bean respect day existed, if you haven't realized i refer to reader's dick as cock whether flesh or silicone, implied aftercare, aged up character, Bakugou is in his 20s
𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢; late gift for the birthday boy who i haven’t written anything about until now. It was supposed to come out as a small fic, but University kept getting in the way and I’ve fallen behind with some pendant writings. Guess this is my first headcanon thing. Not proofread!
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April 20th could mean anything for a lot of people:
In the US, it’s National Pineapple Upside Down Cake Day.
Also in the US, it’s National Lima Bean Respect Day.
Internationally, for the weed lovers, it’s 420 Day.
But April 20th simply means it’s your boyfriend’s birthday.
Bakugou had been hinting about wanting a small surprise for a while, whether big or small
And by hinting, I mean downright telling you every breakfast, lunch and dinner spent possible throughout March that he wants something from you, but doesn’t want to know what
If you were Mina, you would’ve thrown a party at some lowkey club and hired one of the best DJs in the city, if not the country
If you were Kirishima, you would’ve taken him hiking to a new mountain someplace else in Japan + a weekend glamping getaway
If you were Sero, you would’ve gone to do something relaxing, maybe a spa? Aerial yoga? Definitely not to just see his ass in some yoga pants
If you were Kaminari-
Well, that’s actually an interesting thought… What would you have done if you were Kaminari?
Bakugou wearing a black, see-through thong, the most sensual looking lace garterbelt you could find in his size and a pretty black bow sitting on his ass is what you managed to come up with
Sure. At first he was ready to fight, but then he remembered who you were so obedient baby boy mode was activated without any more fuss. That, and his fucking fantasies.
He’s also been fantasizing for the past few weeks leading up to his birthday about how you’d probably ride him. Maybe fuck him? He doesn’t care, just wants to be babied and loved and fucked good until he passes out to wake up a week later.
Maybe not, he still has work to do
Another reason he put up with this is because, y’know, you tend to be nicer on special days so-
Bakugou wearing a garterbelt makes you feel so many levels of horny in a span of 30 seconds once you see it on him. It accentuates his already envious waist line even more. God, you can’t wait to see him bent over and ass up.
So you tell him gently to do so from where you’re sitting, and he does it so prettily.
Reminds you of a graceful cat, the way he turns around on the bed, chest already down onto the bed sheets as he pulls his torso as close to his knees as possible. Juicy ass is as high as it could be and wow, the thong doesn’t do a good work at hiding the glimmer of the diamond butt plug.
Pity it didn’t come in any other color than white, but it came with the lingerie.
You didn’t even warn him when you turn the butt plug on.
The promised low setting already sounding pretty loud, his small huffs indicating it’s not as overwhelming yet.
Good.
But by now, you’ve left it on for a good while, watching as he tries not to lose his balance or shuffle too much to ‘lose the appeal’.
He’s cursing at you in airy moans, vermillion eyes glaring at you. Why are you teasing him? You’re meant to be nice.
It’s his fucking birthday
You’d punish him for his impatience, but you already punished him the day before.
You don’t want him not being fucked in the ass so you turn the vibrator up to the last setting, smiling sweetly as he curses even louder
This is still punishing but nice, right?
He seems to agree
His arms are restless, moving from staying beside him to moving above his head to grip at the sheets.
His hands also go to grab his ass and pull the cheeks apart to show you how he’s clenching desperately around the toy, whining about how he needs you right now, to stop fucking around and get your big ass cock in him or else-
But that “or else” doesn’t really get finished, not with you startling him with your speed and sight of the ribbons.
His arms are tied now, forcing him to keep spreading his ass, to keep showing himself off.
This has him burying his face into the bed, hiding how red he’s gotten from embarrassment.
You don’t allow that, so you press your hand onto the plug to push it in deeper.
He yells out your name, body jolting as the toy relentlessly messes with his prostate while your other hand curiously goes to touch the front.
The thong is absolutely soaked and sticky, and when you move your fingers against the fabric to feel just how sticky it is, Bakugou tries humping them, well, really just trying to rub his dick against your fingers because wow the stimulation of the fabric is n i c e.
But you’re not having it just yet, you wanna appreciate his perfect posture a bit more.
Reminder: the butt plug is already at its highest setting.
So the next best thing you can do is smack his ass because your baby loves that, loves how you leave compliments and praise for how it jiggles and gets a pretty red. He does it for you, after all, makes sure it’s always at its best presentation.
But he’ll never tell you shit because then you’ll tease him and embarrass him in front of his friends.
So a few slaps in, being careful with his hands, all followed by cooing at how it moves, how it blushes, how it’s now matching his face and probably dick too, has him trying to fuck back into the vibrator, but he’s humping absolutely nothing and growing more and more desperate and horny.
You back away from the bed, going for your camera to take another pic for your growing collection.
On the bed lies Bakugou Katsuki, all tied up, lingerie getting sticky with precum, the laciest garterbelt you’ve ever seen decorating his waist while he’s panting heavily, ass in the air, face completely red and wet, whether it be his sweat or tears.
He’s holding his ass apart to show you the vibrating diamond butt plug that’s been stuck in the highest setting, buzzing away as he’s whimpering your name, hiccuping “mommy, mommy, mommy” as he pleads for mercy, wiggling his ass as he tries luring you back to his body.
“M-mommy! Hnnnm tuh-touch me! Plea-ease? Please~”
Hey, aren’t you supposed to be nice? Eh...
He can’t come alone from the vibrating butt plug, never has been able to before, and if his rocking hips don’t indicate how much he wants to either fuck the bed or have your hand on it, you just ignore it.
Let’s see if tonight he’ll be able to cum hands-free for once. And make sure he cries more and more everytime he gets to cum from your cock and only because of your cock.
Basically that’s your birthday gift. Fuck him good until he either forgets his name, he's a babbling, crying mess, he's completely milked, or all of the above.
After hours of being edged by the toy he finally came, but in thin, small amounts, so you had to fuck out a few more rounds and cum out of him before he passed out.
In all honesty, he begged you to fuck him until he passed out. He had been fantasizing about it, after all.
After you both had your final orgasm of the night, rather early morning, he’s in tears, body trembling through the last tremors of his 2nd dry orgasm out of what? 7 orgasms? The copious amount of cum he’s managed to get milked out of him drying everywhere on his body, drool wetting the bed sheets even more than they were, room smelling like caramel, asshole fluttering around nothing and dick twitching as if wanting more.
Bakugou’s speaking gibberish at this point, the only coherent words leaving his dumb mouth being “mommy”, “more” or your name as he slowly succumbs to his exhaustion.
You give him your premium grade A aftercare during the little time he remained conscious and took care of everything else as he slept.
Next day, you cook breakfast, even if he grumbled about the taste or appearance.
He’s a good boy, he’s not gonna yell at you or be ungrateful with anything and everything you do, considering you put up with his anger. I mean, he gives his opinions, insights, inquiries through loving shouts of disapproval and approval.
All in all, he liked his birthday, but told you he kind of expected you to throw a party and had mentally prepared himself
Goddamn it. Guess next year you’ll call Mina for some help
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helloalycia · 3 years
Text
my patient’s neighbour [four] // wanda maximoff
summary: taking Wanda to meet your parents wasn't the best decision in hindsight...
warning/s: none i don't think?
author's note: i’m not sure what to say other than sorry in advance oops
part one | part two | part three | part five | part six | part seven | masterlist | wattpad
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The restaurant my parents chose wasn't too flashy but rather comforting and homely, with an Italian theme and matching cuisine. It was bustling with people, but it didn't take long for Wanda and I to find my parents sat at the back waiting for us.
"You gonna be okay?" I asked, glancing at her with a comforting squeeze of the hand.
"I've got you, haven't I?" she asked playfully, her accent thicker than usual as she spoke. And though she was joking, I knew there was truth to her words which sent the butterflies in my stomach into a frenzy.
"You're cute," I said with adoration, appreciating how lovely her eyes looked in the dimly-lit restaurant. "Come on."
Hand in hand, we approached my parents' table and I had hopes that tonight would go well. My parents weren't exactly intimidating – at least anyone I'd ever known hadn't got that impression – but I still worried for Wanda. Unlike her, I couldn't read minds, so I couldn't tell if she was actually looking forward to tonight or if she was just doing it for me.
"Y/N, you're here!" my mum exclaimed with a grin when she spotted me.
"I am," I said with a nervous smile, before motioning to Wanda. "And so is Wanda, my girlfriend."
"Yes, Y/N mentioned you would be coming," my mum said with a friendly smile, looking to Wanda, before motioning to the table. "Please, sit, sit."
I squeezed Wanda's hand gently before pulling out a chair for her. She smiled at me appreciatively before I took a seat beside her, facing my parents.
"It's nice to finally meet you, Wanda," my dad said with a nod. "Y/N mentioned you plenty of times when we'd call to catch up with her."
"You, too," Wanda spoke politely. "Both of you. Y/N told me that you're travelling the world, is that right?"
I leaned on my hand and glanced at Wanda, who shot me a mischievous smile. Quirking a brow, I mentally applauded her. Getting my parents to talk about their travels was an easy way of bonding with them – they would tell every server and customer in this restaurant about their travelling if they could. She'd cracked them instantly.
I'm just that good, milashka (cutie).
Trying not to laugh as her words echoed in my mind because of her powers, I leaned back into my seat and listened in as my parents went into a ramble about their ongoing adventures. This was pretty much how the rest of the evening went, as the four of us dined on expensive wine and delicious pizza. They seemed to be getting along well, with Wanda asking all the right questions and giving them her picture-perfect smile that impressed all the elders. Heck, she was even impressing me.
Naively, I appreciated how well the evening was going until my parents decided to talk to Wanda about her career.
"So, Y/N mentioned you're one of those Revengers," my mum remembered as we ate.
"Avengers," I corrected her, mildly embarrassed.
Wanda chuckled, glancing at me, before nodding. "Yes, I am. For over a year now, I've been working with them."
"Them being Iron Man, Captain America, the Black Widow...?" my dad asked, looking up as if trying to remember the rest, further embarrassing me.
"Those are the ones," Wanda quipped with a nod.
My mum hummed in response as my dad nodded before leaning back in his seat and eyeing Wanda curiously.
"I can't imagine your job is the safest," he began. "You protect people from threats, right? Keep them safe."
Wanda seemed caught off guard, but recovered quickly. "It's got it's... dangers, yes. But I can handle myself. I've got powers and I know how to use them."
"You do," my dad agreed, before his eyes flickered to me briefly. "But Y/N doesn't. She's just a regular human."
I set my fork down on my plate and looked to him calmly. "Dad, what are you saying?"
"No, it's fine," Wanda said reassuringly, resting her hand on my leg under the table. I grabbed it and held it as she continued to speak to my father. "Y/N doesn't have powers, you are correct."
"And dating an Avenger, I can imagine, must put a huge target on her back," he said with concern, and my mum nodded in agreement. "How can we be certain that she is safe?"
"Dad!"
"Your father is right, Y/N," my mum said, giving me a look, before her expression softened as she looked to a startled Wanda. "We're not implying that you're incapable, Wanda. We can clearly see that you care about our daughter. And you're a lovely person. You're pretty much perfect."
Wanda swallowed hard. "But?"
My mother frowned. "But dating you is bound to put our Y/N in danger. She could get hurt just for being involved with you, with your friends. She doesn't have powers to protect herself. And I can't imagine you're around her all the time to keep her safe."
As angry as I was at my parents for saying this stuff – even if they were saying it out of love – memories of the incident flashed to mind. They were right, but it was a risk I'd accepted when dating Wanda. What good was it doing by bringing this up now?
Noticing Wanda's silence, I spoke up instead. "I appreciate your concern, guys, but I'm an adult. I understand the danger I may be put in by being with Wanda. But I love her and I know that she is here for me if anything were to ever happen."
"We know," my father said, giving me a small nod. "We just thought we'd share our opinion anyway. It's been weighing on us for a while is all."
I sighed quietly. I couldn't exactly fault them for that.
"Anyway, never mind that," my mum said, setting down her fork. "Now that we've got that out the way, let's order some dessert, yeah? Our treat."
Nodding, I let my parents get excited as they perused the dessert menus before them. Instead, I looked to the quiet brunette beside me and saw how lost in thought she was, eyes focused on the table and stuck in a daydream.
With the hand that was holding hers, I patted her hand with my thumb to earn her attention. She looked up suddenly, questioning gaze falling to me. I frowned and quirked a brow, wondering if she was okay. She forced a smile my way, squeezing my hand reassuringly, but I didn't believe her. I also couldn't question it right in front of my parents, so I decided to speak with her later.
Dessert went by quickly as Wanda, suddenly, wasn't very talkative. I didn't know if my parents noticed, but I sure did and I felt extremely guilty. If I had known of my parents' concerns, I never would have brought Wanda to meet them tonight.
After the evening came to a close and we all stepped out of the restaurant, I expected to be going home with my parents since we lived together, but they claimed they had more plans together tonight.
"Wow, you guys have more of a social life than we do," I joked when they told me to make my own way home.
Wanda barely smiled and I felt bad.
"We'll be back in a few hours," my mum promised, before pulling me in for a hug. "Tonight was fun. A great final night before we leave tomorrow."
I returned the hug and as I gave my dad one, I heard Wanda thanking my mum for the lovely evening halfheartedly. After saying our final goodbyes, Wanda led me to her car in silence, giving me time to try and put some jumbled thoughts together coherently.
As she had been for the past hour, Wanda was quiet on the drive back to my place. Whenever I would glance in her direction, she'd be chewing on her lip and focusing on driving, though the blank expression on her face made me think that maybe she was distracted. It didn't take a genius to know she was thinking about my parents' words and I suddenly felt guilty for putting that all on her.
"I'm sorry," I blurted halfway through the journey. "I'm sorry for what they said. It wasn't fair of them, I know that. They just... they meant well, Wanda, they really did." I tucked my hands under my thighs, wincing as their words echoed in my mind. "It doesn't change anything though, y'know? We're still us. We're still okay. I don't want you to feel like anything's changed because it hasn't."
I paused, swallowing hard, and glanced her way. She didn't even look my way, still in the same position as she was before I started to speak. Looking back to the road ahead, I let out a disappointed sigh, figuring she wasn't in a talking mood. I didn't blame her, but I hoped she would have understood what I meant.
The remainder of the drive was like this, Wanda deep in thought and me huddled under an imaginary blanket of guilt. When we finally reached my house, she turned the engine off and I waited for her to say something, literally anything. Her fingers drummed against the steering wheel mindlessly and I figured she was out of words for tonight.
"I'll ring you in the morning," I mumbled quietly, opening the car door. "If you want to speak, that is."
Leaving her there, I grabbed my bag and headed to the front door, but stopped when I heard her get out the car, too. Waiting, I turned around and watched as she approached me, eyebrows knitted in thought.
"Please say something," I said with pleading eyes.
She licked her lips, biting her lower lip so hard I'm surprised she didn't draw blood. Finally, she released it and looked to me with apologetic eyes.
"Your parents were right," she said.
I blinked with confusion. "What?"
She nodded, looking down at her shoes momentarily. "They were right, what they said. My life puts you in danger."
"Yeah, I know," I agreed, crossing my arms. "I knew that when I got with you, but that doesn't change anything."
She gave a disbelieving smile. "Seriously? Y/N, that changes everything."
"No, it doesn't," I told her sternly, growing frustrated. "This is the stuff you sacrifice when you love someone."
She sighed, shaking her head and looking away. "You shouldn't have to."
"But I chose to," I said, clenching my jaw.
"Don't you remember what happened last time?" she asked, stepping forward and holding my hand. "The incident?"
"We said we wouldn't talk about that," I reminded her with a low voice.
"But you remember, right? When they took you and I wasn't there? They could've hurt you!"
"Shut up!" I told her, raising my voice. Pulling my hand away from hers and taking a step back, I continued, "Why are you saying that? You came! You helped me!"
"But what if they did something to you before I got there?" she snapped. "What if I hadn't got to you on time?"
The memories came spilling into my mind, escaping the locked box I kept them in. Tears burned the corner of my eyes as I tried to think about anything else.
"You remember how scared you were?" Wanda asked, frowning at me with exasperated eyes. "You couldn't be by yourself for weeks!"
"Why are you doing this?!" I yelled, clenching my fists. "Why are you trying to frighten me?!"
"Because you should be frightened!" she retorted, stepping closer to me. Her dark green eyes were swirling storms of rage as she added, "It could happen again!"
I shoved her away from me, pinching the bridge of my nose with annoyance. Tears slipped from my eyes at the terrifying memory of what happened, what could have gone wrong, but I ignored them as I swallowed down the lump in my throat. Why the hell was she acting like this? Making me so angry at her for no reason?
"It's not even just that," she continued, jaw tensed. "How many times do I get hurt because of work and you get worried?"
"That's because I care about you," I muttered through stinging eyes.
"This will always be my life," she said, a hint of regret in her words as she looked to me. "I can't change it."
"I'm not asking you to!"
"Exactly! You're not! Which means you'll suck it up and stay with me and will live your life in constant concern for my well-being. It's not right."
I opened my mouth to respond because what she was saying was entirely stupid. But my emotions got the better of me and no words came out. Instead, my bottom lip quivered as I sucked up a breath.
"I need time to think," she suddenly said, anger disappearing from her voice and being replaced with an astute calmness.
My gaze snapped her way and through blurry vision, I watched her step back with her hands on her hips.
"So you can what – think about breaking up with me?" I said bitterly, and despite my anger, I didn't expect her to look at me with a softened expression, meaning my words were correct.
"Maybe it's better that way, Y/N," she said gently, eyes meeting mine.
I squeezed my hands together and tried to breathe through the pent-up anger that she'd caused, but the longer she stared at me, waiting for a response, the more I wanted to explode.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" I muttered, scrunching my eyebrows together.
She pressed her lips together, looking away, and it only pissed me off more.
"Are you fucking kidding me, Wanda?!" I yelled. "You're quitting on our relationship because, what, you think I'm in danger? Well, news flash, honey, the worst already happened and I'm still here!"
She barely flinched as she avoided my eyes.
"You're a fucking coward!" I said, pointing at her. "If you needed an excuse to end things, you could have just said so!"
Breathing out, I wiped my tears away shakily. I expected her to argue back, to realise she'd made a mistake and regretted her words, but as I waited, I knew she was certain of her decision.
"Fine," I settled, brimming with rage. "Fuck off, Wanda."
Still, nothing.
Turning on my heel, I stormed to my front door and went through my keys with difficulty, hands shaking with anger. I heard Wanda's car door shut from behind me but didn't bother turning around. I clearly didn't need to as I heard the tyres screech against the road and knew she was gone.
Kicking my door with frustration, I found the key and opened up before heading inside and slamming the door behind me. How dare she break up with me because of something that I chose off my own back! She just gave up like we meant nothing to her, not even bothering to talk things out with me! And selfishly, she left me feeling pissed and resenting her more than I ever thought I would.
"What a bitch!" I shouted into the empty house, throwing my keys to the side harshly.
When they clinked against glass, I looked up and saw the vase of flowers Wanda had given me before dinner.
"The first and fucking last," I said dryly, before grabbing ahold of it and throwing it against the wall without thinking.
The glass shattered on impact, leaving a mess of water, flowers and small shards on the wooden floor. I looked at it, the brokenness resembling how my heart felt. As the adrenaline of my actions and previous angry words wore off, all that was left was hurt and pain and oh God, Wanda was gone. She'd left me. She'd given up.
I sank to the floor, pulling my legs up to my chest, and hugged them tightly. Stifling my cries, I dug myself into my knees and felt a pain in my heart. Why didn't she fight for us? Did she not love me enough? Was I not enough?
"You ignored the memes I sent you, I thought you died."
As Natasha pushed right past me and into my house, I blinked with disbelief.
"Sure, come right in," I mumbled sarcastically, closing the front door.
Following after Natasha, I found her making herself at home in the living room, plonking herself on the couch and pulling her feet up comfortably.
"You could have sent an emoji or something," she continued, giving me a knowing look. "They were some good memes."
"Well, forgive me if I wasn't in the mood," I said sourly, joining her on the couch.
Her playful smile faded as she picked up on my words. "How are you doing, sweetie?"
I ran a hand through my hair and leaned my elbow on the back of the couch, getting comfortable. It had been two weeks since Wanda broke up with me and in those two weeks, I hadn't been doing particularly well. I guess you could say I was still in a slump. A horrible, tiresome, angry, sadness-filled slump.
"I'm fine."
She pursed her lips, looking like she wanted to argue, but thankfully, she didn't. I was glad – the last thing I wanted was to prove that I was okay when, really, all I wanted to do was curl in a ball and suffocate under my duvet.
"I'm sorry," she said, resting her hand on mine. "If it's any consolation, I think Wanda made a huge mistake."
"Ah, so she told you," I said with a nod of realisation. I hadn't told Natasha the specifics of why we broke up, but clearly Wanda did. I guess it made sense – they were teammates. If anything, I was surprised Natasha still wanted to speak to me, instead expecting her to side with her friend.
"She did," Natasha answered. "And I think she's an idiot, but that's not my business. I just came here to make sure you were okay."
"Really? I thought you wanted to show me the memes," I said jokingly, trying to lighten the mood with a small smile.
She chuckled, slapping my hand gently. "That, too... but seriously."
My smile faded as I looked down, my finger playing with my trousers distractedly. "I'm not okay, but I'll get there." I began to glare at my trousers, my anger for the witch returning. "I have to be. Because she doesn't want me anymore... fuck her."
"I'd rather not," Natasha mumbled.
Though my anger was present, making me tense like it had been the last few weeks, I couldn't help but smile at Natasha's words. Then laughter bubbled from my lips and for the first time since Wanda left, I felt momentarily happy.
"I'm glad we can still be friends," Natasha said, making me look to her with a smile. "I know that you and Wanda are over now... but I still like hanging out with you."
"Me, too," I said in agreement. "Thanks for coming to check in. You didn't have to."
"Yeah, I did." She nodded before offering me a small, encouraging smile. "You're gonna be okay, y'know."
I wanted to believe her, but despite how pissed I was at Wanda, I still loved her. And I couldn't imagine stopping, though I knew I'd have to if I was to make it through this.
Getting over Wanda was a difficult process. Everything I felt was a mixture of resentment, exhaustion and misery because I missed her. I missed being able to call her when I saw somebody do something stupid in public; I missed kissing her when I hadn't seen her in a long time; I missed hearing her adorable accent first thing when I woke up after she spent the night; I missed her.
Two months followed the breakup and the only time I'd see her was when she'd dodge Anna's apartment upon knowing I was going to take care of her. I guess I was glad in that sense, as it meant I wouldn't have to deal with her awkwardly. But it also made me feel like shit because it meant she didn't care about me at all. Clearly our breakup wasn't affecting her like it did with me.
And it was definitely affecting me.
I was scrolling through Instagram one day when I saw a particular post on my feed from Natasha's account. Yeah, one of the Avengers had a private Instagram account. She gave me her username when she saw me on it one day and I remember being so confused to how she had it.
"I'm an Avenger, not a hermit," was her response, and from that day onwards, we followed each other.
So, I saw a post on her Instagram and it was some goofy photo of her, Tony, Bruce and Wanda. They were posing with exaggerated smiles as Natasha grinned up front; the caption said something about working long days, but I wasn't paying much attention as, naturally, my gaze fell to Wanda.
Just like everyone else, she had a playful, exaggerated smile on her lips like nothing kept her down, but what stood out was the sling around her arm and the cast underneath. It must have happened in a mission or something and it wasn't my business, but I couldn't help but worry. Was she okay? Was she looking after herself? I wanted to text Natasha and ask, but I stopped myself.
She'd broken up with me for this very reason. I wasn't agreeing with it, but for a second, I did see why she'd made her point. It still wasn't fair though. She didn't get to make that choice for me.
We weren't together anymore, I reminded myself. She broke up with me. It had been two months and I needed to let go. If she didn't care about me, why should I waste my time and energy caring about her?
Not letting it get to me anymore, I simply liked the post before continuing my scrolling. Though I knew that deep down, her face was imprinted in my mind and I still worried for her well-being.
The fourth month following our breakup was when I properly saw Wanda again, excluding the times she would duck out of Anna's apartment upon my arrival to care for her. It was also the first time since the breakup that Wanda made the effort to speak to me.
I was sat eating dinner on my day off when I got a call from the hospital nearby, interrupting my meal. The nurse was explaining how Anna had fallen over and hurt her back and was now in a hospital room. She was calling me because she thought I'd like to know since I was her registered nurse and carer. I was glad to get the call, immediately pulling my shoes and coat on and rushing over there to make sure she was okay. She didn't have anyone else apart from Wanda and I – it was no question I had to go.
Though, of course, I didn't really think about the fact that Wanda may be there until I saw her there. I also didn't consider the fact that I was wearing my pyjamas when I stepped in the lift and headed to Anna's floor. Too late now.
After asking the receptionist where Anna's room was, I found Wanda hanging around it outside the door. With only Anna on my mind, I approached her and tried to hide my panic. She spotted me instantly, stopping her pacing and looking to me with tired eyes and a frown on her face.
I didn't care that she looked worried, nor that she was holding up well since we last spoke in anger. I didn't care that she'd dyed her hair a reddish-brown colour, nor that she managed to pull off both that and the whole 'loungewear' look in a place surrounded by blinding white and blue. I didn't care that my heart ached when her green eyes found mine, nor that I missed seeing her so close and not in my dreams for once. I didn't care about any of it. Or, at least, I tried to tell myself that.
"What happened?" I cut straight to the point, stopping in front of her. "Is Anna okay?"
Wanda nodded instantly. "She's fine. She tripped over her dining room chair and hurt her back. The doctors just checked her out and said it's nothing too serious, but she won't be able to walk for a while."
I pressed my lips together, feeling the panic wear off at the sound of good news. Anna had always been more than just a patient to me and the last thing I wanted was to hear she'd hurt herself badly.
"Can I see her?" I asked Wanda, quirking a brow.
"Yeah, of course," Wanda said, before looking away awkwardly. "I was just waiting out here for you. The nurse said you were coming."
I chose to say nothing as I walked past her and into Anna's room, seeing the older woman laying on a hospital bed and staring at the ceiling. When she noticed my presence, she smiled at me and motioned for me to join her side.
"It's so good to see you, milaya (sweetie)," she said happily, as I stopped by her side, "but you didn't have to come! I'm not dying."
I heard Wanda enter the room behind me, but she took a seat on the chairs opposite the bed. Ignoring her, I smiled down at Anna and grabbed her hand.
"Don't say that," I told her gently. "Of course I'm here. You're my number one priority. I had to make sure you were okay!"
Anna waved her hand in typical Anna fashion. "I've suffered worse. I'm absolutely fine."
I knew it was best not to question her, so I didn't.
"I'm glad you're both here," she said, looking between Wanda and I, making me swallow awkwardly.
Since breaking up, I hadn't mentioned it to Anna, but she wasn't stupid and she'd clearly noticed that we weren't spending time together anymore. I didn't know if Wanda had told her, but if she had, Anna never mentioned anything. Like now, she simply looked between us both with a grateful smile, unaware of how awkward we felt.
Thankfully, the awkward silence was interrupted when a doctor walked in the room. After introducing herself, I asked if I could speak to her outside about Anna and she happily obliged. She told me about Anna's condition and how it would affect the way I cared for her, especially regarding her new medication, and I asked anything and everything to make sure she was truly okay. After being reassured that she was, I thanked the doctor and returned to Anna's room, only to find Wanda and Anna in a heated a argument.
I couldn't tell what had got them so fussy as they were bickering in Russian, sentences too fast for me to comprehend with my limited knowledge of the language. It got to a point where Anna began slapping Wanda on the arm, looking angrier than ever, so I stepped between them and pulled Wanda away.
"What the hell is going on here?" I interrupted, holding Anna's slapping hand down to the bed and raising a hand to keep Wanda at bay. I looked between them, seeing the frustration in both their expressions, and asked questioningly, "Well?"
Wanda said nothing, eyes avoiding mine as usual, so I looked down to Anna who was glancing between us before spouting off into another ramble in Russian, trying to grab Wanda so she could yell at her directly. To my annoyance, Wanda tried to push past me, yelling back, and I was unfortunately caught in the middle as I attempted to keep them from ripping each other's throats out.
Thankfully, their bickering came to a halt when an unknown voice called into the room: "What is going on in here?"
I looked to the door, following the mystery voice, and saw a young woman, maybe in her thirties, standing in the doorway and looking between the three of us with confusion. I had no idea who she was, though she seemed familiar. Judging from the confusion Wanda had, she didn't seem to know either.
"Sasha," Anna breathed out with surprise, and then I realised. That was Anna's granddaughter. "What are you doing here?"
386 notes · View notes
nari-nim · 3 years
Text
yeosang as your boyfriend
nari note: kicking off the bf series with this king. who do you want to see next? creds for gif goes to @holy-yeosang​
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Let’s be honest, you might have to make the first move with him
But it’s worth it because yeosang is actually such boyfriend material
He takes comfort in established familiarity and warm-heartedness, so likes taking things slow and understanding your personality more than anything
Shy boi at first even as y’all are dating
It can take a long time to reach the point he’s super comfortable. 
But please be patient with him because he really has super intense and strong feelings for you
Super playful and chaotic once he feels max comfortable around you!!
Type to be quiet around others but then rambles nonstop with you. Would be so funny too, he has so many hot takes he was holding in 
Can be unpredictable, but not in a bad way! 
More like he just stares at you in such a straight face until you get slightly worried, but he just feeds you three pocky sticks, kisses your lips as you are munching in confusion, and then leaves
Also please he’s so funny??? Like it’s not the type of humor like Wooyoung who just is so loud and makes everyone laugh, but the type where he makes such snarky or intellectual jabs at the situation/those around him
So it just ends up with the two of your snickering on the side
So many inside jokes
So much laughter, always 
Definitely the type to tease you as his form of flirting
Enjoys personal attention and lots of eye contact when talking about literally anything that comes to mind
Really likes just sitting with you somewhere cozy and talking about life for hours and hours on end
Once he’s comfortable, he’s actually so adorably expressive and unafraid to return PDA
While he may struggle with emotional expression at times, physical affection can stand in loving words for him
While not as touchy as San or Wooyoung, he isn’t afraid to have the two of you be in your own world
Sits close to you at any given opportunity and quietly takes care of you
Like offering you snacks first, moves your hair behind your ears, urges you to wrap you arms around his, gives you his jacket
He’s the type to love you quietly
Actions speak louder than words, and his actions are so incredibly thoughtful and attentive
For example, he may not be tripping over himself to tell you just how much he loves you 24/7 but he never fails to open soft drinks for you after the one time your nail broke in front of him when you tried to pry the metal tab open, he literally ignores the group chat but makes sure he bids you good morning and good night because he’s seen how happy they make you feel, etc
Ok but he is so kind even if he rarely voices it. You can absolutely count on him to be there for emotional and practical support whenever it’s needed.
Very trusting in the relationship
He is really understanding of you having friends/a life outside of him so he’s less likely to get jealous
Really rational in disagreements
Sometimes it can get hard to read his expressions, so it’s important you both learn to communicate a lot to keep the relationship healthy! He’s actually really good at voicing his thoughts and opinions well once he has the space to do so
Values reciprocation
Will do aegyo to make you blush or sway things in his favor. And then will proceed to hide his face immediately after
please he is Adorable
You’re his hype man. He will also then get super shy, but loves every single second of it. Secretly wants you to hype him up nonstop
I think he secretly really enjoys words of affirmation as his primary love language (receiving).
Compliments can be a little rare from him, so when he does compliment you, you know he really means it!! 
And he will roast you
Sometimes, he has his fun by occasionally starting some verbal sparring followed by intense making up. 
Like he’ll choose a topic and say something so wild about it just to see your expression. Pushes your buttons a little before either one of you has to shut the other up through a make out session or a bet
Just very trustworthy, loyal, loving and faithful as a whole uwu
NSFW after this
With that being said, he’s a switch
I don’t see power play being as big of deal for him tbh, he likes to go with the flow with what you both feel like during the moment
literally his preference to dom or sub may actually depend on you and the dynamic of the relationship
when he’s dom, he’s soft or hard depending on the mood as well
but ngl I’m leaning on that hard dom agenda
Sex with him can start out a bit vanilla at first
He’s so careful and wants you to be comfy :’)
But give it a few rounds and lots of communication, his kinky ass will take over
Takes a lot of joy in pleasing you, and can take this to an extreme where he just wants to watch you cum again and again and again from his touch
Um can be a bit of a sadist 
Type to ask you if it hurts while overstimulating you and says “good” when you moan in affirmation 
Secretly has a thing to see you cry 
Also really likes edging
He likes driving you so desperate to the point you’re begging him to let you cum
As you’re reaching and moaning for him he’ll say in a teasing tone “oh really, what do you want? You want my cock? Hm? Is that it?” 
Just to hear your pleady whines
That mocking tone will send shivers down anyone’s spine 
Oh My God you cannot tell me he won’t have a degradation kink (giving)
Also the type to be like “use your words” while he’s going down on you and then proceed to suck your clit extra hard, making you unable to form coherent sounds through your loud moans. It then becomes his excuse to edge you for yet another round because you didn’t use your words, did you?
Whew, anyways
Grab onto his biceps while he rails into you and notice how they flex underneath you as he starts pounding harder in response
Likes to show off his gains by pushing you up against a wall 
Also likes it when you top him
Likes hearing you really vocal, even though he’s more on the quieter side when he isn’t dirty talking
Usually just groans when hitting an extra sensitive spot or when you give a particularly good blowjob that day
Likes having you go down on him as foreplay, but prefers penetration as an end goal
Into the classic missionary and launchpad positions so he can see your expression clearly as he overstimulates/edges you
Likes seeing you look up at him through those teary eyes <3
But also very into doggy style
Likes fucking you into the sheets in general, so any position adjacent to that is on his favorites list
um his fingering game is so strong
In the mornings, likes slowly fucking you from behind while spooning you so he can also grab onto your tits or play with your clit
His end goal always is to make you feel so fucking good, it just manifests differently than service tops like Seonghwa or Yunho
Very private about your sex life and not into public sex at all
Possessive in that way. Only he can touch you like that, see you like that, hear your moans like that, etc
Likes hearing you confirm that 
“Only I can make you scream like this”
“Who fucks you this good, huh?”
“C’mon, say it louder.” 
Has one hell of a degradation kink (giving) me thinks
Likes it when you talk back, lowkey likes brat taming when he’s in a dom mood
But does like teasing you in public and keeping it like that until you both find a bedroom, gets off on the idea of you both having to hide your neediness in public
Very little people expect that from just seeing you both together in regular settings 
But little do they know despite the two of you innocently sitting together eating brunch with the team, leaving a few inches for jesus, y’all just had the freakiest sex before getting there. Like you’re literally shifting around in your seat as the soreness kicks in, and Yeosang is smirking ever so slightly at your discomfort
Will rest a heavy head on your upper thigh for a few seconds, brushing his pinky finger against your clothed clit through the thin fabric of your outfit, as he reaches for the bread basket 
Likes hearing that little gasp leaving your lips
Knows he’s leaving you very frustrated and will use that to his advantage later
The whole time, he has the most innocent, fair expression on his face
when he’s a sub tho?
similar vibes. wants you to feel good. 
Still wants to dirty talk, but it’s far more subservient now
one quick way to get him into subspace
if you push him far enough, then he’s so pouty and clingy and fucking cute
It’s so rare to see him like this but always such a treat
favorite positions is to have you ride him and he’ll play with your tits
or he’s still fucking you into the sheets but you are 100% in control
Just imagine him all whiny and teary as he fucks into you, begging you to let him cum as your clench your walls purposely around him, making him yelp as he tries to still his shaking thighs to wait for your signal
actually can be quite obedient as a sub
truly will do his best to be your good boy 
Anyways, aftercare is pretty good with him. He’s very caring and gentle and checks in a lot with you (he better, usually he fucks quite a few rounds out of you)
If he’s fucked out tho, make sure he is also taken care of! As a sub, he follows your orders so well so he’ll probably fall asleep so fast after intensely cumming for the nth time 
At the very least wipes you both down clean with a warm washcloth and kisses you to sleep
Likes spooning you at the end :’)
give him his cuddles </3
masterlist
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leejeongz · 3 years
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fluffy a-z SUNGHOON (enhypen)
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requested: yes, by anon
🔅the comeback!!???!!!?! amazing. i just had to write this today i just HAD TO. this is really long but nevertheless i hope you enjoy🔅
A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
he loves holding your hand even at the most random times. if you seem anxious or upset, his hand slowly creeps closer to yours, just to remind you that he’s there. he’s not a fan of pda, but holding your hand is just fine :D. (taken from my enha as boyfriends post)
he messes up your hair (but only when he knows it’s okay to do so, he knows his place lol) when you do something silly or cute. he also does it when he’s first introducing you to people too. he’ll be all like “this is y/n, my gf/bf/partner” and then ruffle your hair, just to once again show them that you’re his.
similarly, he loves when you play with his hair. he’ll purposely rest in head in your lap so that your hands naturally fall to his hair. sometimes, he accidentally drifts off to sleep like that and then wakes up a few minutes later all smiley hehe.
B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)
you don’t have the chance to meet up a lot, most of your contact is via text since he doesn’t have the time to call you all day, every day. he’s super supportive of you, he’s your wingman, your hype man and your parent all in one. he looks out for you as much as possible and (even if you’re not younger than him) he treats you like his younger sibling.
there’s always a lot of laughter when you two are together that stems from the assortment of inside jokes that you share. you can talk for hours despite neither of you being the talkative type (mainly about other people lmao.)
as a pair, you’re often misunderstood. people never associate you with each other but you just know that you don’t always need to be with each other to still be the closest of friends. when you are together, you’re an intimidating duo that people often avoid through fear, but you’re actually really nice 🥺😔
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
he uses cuddles as a way to distract you and/or annoy you. can and will be the big spoon every time you cuddle. he loves cuddling with you, holding you or just touching you, he’s just shy okay. he loves having you in his arms and holding you, especially when he knows you’ve chosen to cuddle with him over doing something important. cuddling with him just makes him want to cuddle all day :((. so if you start cuddling at 10am, except to still be in his arms at 7pm. more so than cuddling, he likes draping his legs over you “to irritate you” (he just wants to be close to you hehe). it makes him feel like he’s protecting you without it being too hot and stuffy and oppressive.
D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
there’s no time frame for him when it comes to settling down. he wants to settle down but there’s no deadline for him. he’s not actively looking for the love of his life at any point, he’s never going to force himself to be in love just for the sake of creating family. he thinks about settling down a lot, he wants a pet with the person he loves for sure, he’s excited for that day to come, but it doesn’t have to happen soon.
cleaning, he’s fabulous at. the house or apartment is minimalistic anyway, so things that are out of place are easy for him to spot and move. he almost enjoys doing chores with you even, just because he’s spending time with you. when it comes to cooking,,, like sure he’s confident which is so sweet but that doesn’t always mean a good meal. but please don’t tell him that else he’ll get really sad and disappointed in himself.
E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
if he was to break up with you, it would probably be a “right person wrong time” kinda thing. he wouldn’t get into a relationship if he didn’t see a future with that person, he’s very picky to find the perfect person for him. you’re definitely the right person, but he’s just too busy right now being an idol. he feels guilty for not spending time with you and so he wants to let you live you life, without being tied down so early on. he’d hope that you’d wait for him, but he’d understand it if you didn’t.
F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)
commitment is a big part of the relationship for him. he would want commitment from day one, even if he's not officially your boyfriend yet.
he doesn’t care when you get married, but he definitely wants to get married someday. he likes the idea of dedicating one whole day to celebrating your love for each other, and sharing that with friends and family too. it would quite literally be the best day of his life. he’d propose to you pretty quickly into the relationship, but at a time that felt right. you both knew it was something that you wanted, that you dreamed your relationship would last forever, so why not propose?! he doesn’t mind eating years for the wedding though, it’s a big deal and everything has to be perfect.
G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
emotionally, he acts quite tough. he doesn’t want to be seen as weak, but at the same time he wants to show his emotions to let you know that’s he’s mature, and that emotions aren’t a sign of weakness. he often keeps really troubling things to himself until he can tell you and you only. you’re the only person who knows him truly, you know everything about him because he’s only willing to share this stuff with you. when it comes to things in your relationship, he also isn’t afraid to speak his mind. he’s not trying to be gentle or tough with his emotions when it comes to you, everything seems like a natural reaction, he’ll cry when he wants to and he’ll be stubborn when he wants to.
physically, of course, he’s very gentle. every touch feels like feathers, every kiss, every hug, every smile, it’s all just very soft and gentle. you notice that he talks to you differently too. his tone with others appears harsher and more blunt than with you. with you, it’s like he’s talking to a baby (in a non- condescending way ofc he’s very mature and you’re not allowed to forget that)
H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)
when he’s congratulating you on something, when he’s proud of you for something, he hugs you. it’s better for him to communicate using hugs rather than telling you because he’s a little shy saying it, even though he means it.
he likes when you rest your head by his neck, while his arms are holding you close. he kisses where your ear is through your hair or your head while you’re hugging and (when he manages to finally say it) whispers a little “i love you”. it’s a tight hug, but it doesn’t last long. when you pull away, he reaches out to hold your hand, he doesn’t want to separate just yet.
if you initiate the hug, he laughs and grunts and lot just to tease you, but don’t be fooled he’s really happy that you are hugging him!!!
I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)
oh you pair beat around the bush a whole lot. it’s pretty much unspoken for the first year or so. although you never said it to each other, you both knew.
it wasn’t until sunghoon had left you for a little bit while he went on tour (not left as in broke up, just went out of the country lmao idk how to write that in a coherent sentence big sorry) that you realised that you should probably say it. he returned home and it was on that day that you told him you loved him while nestled against his chest in a satisfying hug after such a long time apart. he said it back straight away, looking down at you and waiting expectedly for your lips to meet with his.
he was always waiting for you to say it first, there were moments when he thought he should just say it, but he wanted to wait, he wanted to hear you say it.
J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)
he gets jealous quite quickly and he always makes you aware of his jealousy no matter how petty the situation may be. he wouldn’t try to hide it, or compromise with you, he wants you all to himself so if there’s even a chance that another boy could possibly be flirting with you, he’ll be mad.
that being said, he’d definitely voice his opinions in a mature and well thought through manner. he would think of how to say things to make you understand where he’s coming from without trying to guilt trip you into unfriending that person, he doesn't want to be THAT guy. he’ll just explain his side and wait to hear your response, and often times it turns into a sarcastic, inside joke which reassures him a lot. he’s just like “fine, go to the cafe with him, but he wouldn’t know which smoothie you like best, would he?!”
K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)
him initiating kisses? few and far between. but when he does, you know he means it. he loves all types of kisses, he just wants to cover you in kisses sometimes, but he’s gotta keep up his image of course. pecks on the lips and longer, more passionate kisses are his favourites though, he just can’t get enough of your lips. (taken from my enha as boyfriends post)
as i mentioned in the hugging part, he likes to kiss your head or place a kiss where he thinks your ear is while hugging. it sends a rush though the both of you, it just really makes you both think about how lucky you are to have each other.
L = Little ones (How are they around children?)
a little awkward at first. he’s not sure how to talk to them, and every time he speaks the kids are just like ”??” because he says things that are a little too mature for them.
it will take him some time to be comfortable and confident around the kids, but he wants to be liked by them and he wants them to be happy so he will not give up until that happens.
although, it does have to be said, he’d much rather have a pet than a kid 😳
M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)
usually, sunghoon wakes up before you. he gets up before you wake up too, and sits and stares at the wall with a blank mind, just to wake himself up a bit. once you get up, he’s gonna ask if you wanna go back to bed again and cuddle and/or watch some tv together when he has a day off. if you agree, he’d bring some toast with him for you both to eat. but if not, you’d just grab some cereal together and eat while sat around your dining table in silence because he does not want to talk first thing in the morning (valid,,, extremely valid)
N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)
sunghoon is a big fan of evening dates as opposed to going somewhere during the day. everywhere is quieter and this is usually his free time so you have him all to yourself, you can do whatever you want together. as much as he enjoys going to fancy restaurants, bars and what not (which usually take you into the late hours of the night), he’d still rather spend some time at home with you.
on those nights that he can spend at home with you, he likes to just rest with you. chilling on the sofa just watching some episodes of your favourite show, ordering a takeaway. you share your thoughts about the show and that’s all you really talk about while it’s on, but afterwards you talk about your day and head to bed, where you cuddle until you both fall asleep (which is pretty quickly since you stayed up late to watch more tv)
O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)
like anyone, he overshares when you first start dating due to nerves. you learn a lot about him through this and he’s actually pretty grateful that you do the same thing. you pretty much know everything about him before actually getting into a relationship. throughout the relationship, he’d never try to hide his feelings about certain things and would be pretty hurt if you used things that he’d told you against him.
P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)
with you, he doesn’t get that angry. you’d have to do something really vile for him to show actual aggression and disappointment. with other people, it’s not so simple. he finds a lot of things that other people do irritating but he wouldn’t show his anger there and then. he’s more likely to go home and get angry there. he’d appreciate someone to talk to about it, a shoulder to cry on perhaps. definitely an angry crier (cries when he’s angry) and likes to slam doors to make a point.
he’s not afraid of confrontation when something that someone did is actually wrong. he will stand up for what he believes in and it’s worth putting a friendship on the line given their opposing opinions.
Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)
this bitch acts SO dumb when you ask him stuff but he knows… he knows everything. everything you’ve ever said is stored in his brain, probably written in his notes app as a back up. he’s ready to spring this knowledge on you at any point. he knows exactly what you like and what you dislike, important dates, about your childhood, he even remembers how certain things he did made you feel, so he could do them more or avoid them in the future. but of course, if you ask him, he knows nothing.
R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)
you weren’t even together officially at this point, but when he turned up at your place on prom night. he’ll never forget how stunned he was when he saw you looking all glamorous that evening. you had some photos taken as a pair, egged on by your friends of course because you’d never normally do that, and he looks at them a lot. he can’t help but think how great you look as a couple (and how you two are going to look on wedding photos 🥺). he had a rose prepared for you, a white one because he knew it would go with your outfit, whatever colour it was and also because of its symbolism. he really wanted to confess when he handed it to you, but he over thought it a lot and the moment ended up passing too quickly. that’s his favourite memory. something that he’ll never forget.
S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)
i know i said he got jealous a lot, but he’d distance himself when it actually came to it. he’d be jealous in his own space until you two were alone rather than being protective while the act that made him feel that way was ongoing. as i mentioned above, he does indeed want you all to himself, but he’d hate to cause unnecessary drama and have you lose friends over a silly misunderstanding.
if you were clearly very uncomfortable around someone, he’d be there with an arm wrapped around you. you’d both like to think that his presence alone is intimidating enough, but sometimes he has to resort to harsh one liners to get them to back off.
i don’t think he’d ever get into a physical fight. it’s not that you’re not worth it, but he just feels it would make the situation worse.
T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
he really wants to put a lot of effort into your dates, but he finds it difficult because one, he has no time and two, he doesn’t want to disappoint you/organise something you end up hating. most dates are spontaneous and on a whim, but also like… planned in both of your minds. like you know you want to go and you know he wants to go, but it’s not confirmed that it will actually happen until the time of the date if that makes sense. when it comes to it, he gets really shy asking you out on dates, so you’ve kind of just started to read each other’s minds lmao.
he never forgets your birthday or your anniversary. he makes a big deal out of your anniversary because it’s a celebration of you both, he wants to make you feel special and will do everything he can to do so. you pair make your own traditions when it comes to days like that, and he looks forward to them a lot. your birthday is pretty much left down to you (other than his gift for you of course). he doesn’t want to do a poor job of planning anything for your special day so he just leaves it and hopes that you do something instead, if you wanted a party you should have organised it. he would help you plan it thought, anything you want he’d do for you.
his gifts are always things that you like. things that you can treasure and things that you can display and show off are his go to. jewellery is a common gift that you receive from him and every single piece that he’s picked out is so delicate and beautiful.
U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)
when you pair are out with mutual friends, he likes to tease you. sometimes he takes it too far without realising it, the atmosphere becomes tense and he becomes even more awkward and wants to leave the situation just to apologise to you but realises it will probably make everything 10 times more awkward.
V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)
he’s a handsome teenager surrounded by other pretty people of course he’s gonna have some concerns about how he looks. actually i don’t think concerns would be the right word. he’s very confident in his appearance, why wouldn’t he be, but he also thinks that everyone else should be too, everyone is attractive in their own way. in reality, he’s very humble about how handsome he is despite constantly flexing his visuals lmao.
W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
you do a lot for him, not just as in help him out with cooking or whatever, but his mental state. you’ve allowed him to mature a lot and he’s become more emotionally intelligent with you.
he’d hate to think of how his life would be if he wasn’t with you, he wouldn’t be the same person at all.
X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)
one of the first dates you went on was to build a bear, it was his idea surprisingly (he wanted to see which animal/character you picked out, okay?!) you stuffed each other’s teddies and returned them to each other in time to name them. you named yours sunghoon first, he followed by naming his y/n. you both sleep with them on the bed and hug them tightly when you’re not together :( (but your never tell each other that’s what you do lol)
Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)
people who are all up in his face. just back off, yeah? chill out for a second. he gets that you’re excited, and he wouldn’t want to bring you down, but you don’t need to get up in his grill. personal space is a big one for him. if you don’t respect that, then he’s not gonna have any time for you.
Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)
the prettiest sleeper on the planet. his lips are slightly separated and his eyelashes often flutter as if he’s about to wake up, but it’s actually just a sign of him having a really pleasant dream.
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rqnvindr · 3 years
Text
special delivery
pairing: delivery boy!albedo x gn!reader
genre: fluff, humor, pinch of suggestiveness
w.c: 1.5k
synopsis: it was getting harder and harder to resist the beautiful boy who always delivered your pizzas. especially when he notices the way you look at him, ever the observant one...
a/n: happy birthday chae !! @albehoe  i’m glad we met and i enjoy all of our talks in the server! welcome to being 19; hope you enjoy this little gift i put together for you hehe
--
the doorbell finally rings, snapping you out of mindlessly scrolling on your phone. you grab your wallet and hop off the couch, more than ready to receive your pizza order for dinner. 
you open the door and your brain immediately shuts down.
a young man, around the same age as you, stands before you and greets you with the most princely “good evening” ever. and if his voice wasn’t already enough to melt you, the red and black uniform looked like it was made just for him, complimenting his perfect skin and hair. that, along with his sparkling eyes was enough to convince you that he couldn’t possibly be real. you resist the urge to pinch yourself to check if you were dreaming.
“for (y/n), correct?” albedo, as you read on his name pin, snaps you out of your trance with his dreamy voice. it sounded even better when he said your name.
“yes.” you hand him the required amount of cash and take the box, brushing fingers ever so slightly. you offer the boy a smile, to which he nods in response.
albedo waves a gloved hand as he walks off of your porch. “have a good day.”
“thank you.” it sounded like the most appropriate choice of words at first, but you mentally curse yourself after he gets into the car and drives off.
you should’ve asked for his number, dammit. or at least told him to have a good day too.
what was supposed to be a perfect treat of an evening ended with you chastising yourself all throughout your meal. 
this was your chance. you were going to order another pizza at the end of this week and hope that albedo would be your delivery boy again. you would at least try to remember to make more conversation with him this time, before leading up to hinting that you wanted to get to know him better. 
you take a deep breath on the awaited day, when you answer the door. to your luck, it’s the exact same platinum-haired, blue-eyed mystery of a man who stole your heart within seconds.
“oh! good to see you again!” you sound a little too excited, and albedo appears perfectly unfazed. 
“good afternoon. that’ll be $10.” he holds up a packet when you hand him the fee, and you raise an eyebrow. “i also got you a free sample of our newest secret sauce. it’s not supposed to be out until next month, but i’m conducting some research for my university and wanted to get a head start on people’s opinions on the taste, the texture, if they could perhaps recognize any of the ingredients used to make it..” he clears his throat. “anyways, since you’re such a dedicated customer you’re the first on the list. let me know what you think next time.” 
“ah.” you lightly giggle at his rambling. he seemed very passionate about whatever field he was studying and determined to flesh out the best results for his research. you were the one who was nervous about keeping a conversation going when he seemed more than capable of doing so, as long as it was something he was acutely interested in. 
and most importantly: he planned on meeting you again. there would be a next time.
“may i ask what your major is?” 
“i’m a chemistry major. i was originally planning on doing biology, the study of life, but there is just as much essence of life in chemical reactions. taking two or more things to form a new substance...the embodiment of the life cycle itself.” 
you nod, feeling nearly as fascinated in his studies as he appears to be. you would love to hear more about it, perhaps sitting across from him at a cafe, dressed casually out of his work clothes...
“excuse me. i do not wish to take up too much of your time. enjoy your pizza.” 
“wait.” you call out, a fleeting sense of courage rising up, only for it to collapse once more when you catch yourself staring directly into albedo’s eyes. an endless ocean of curious orbs, their intensity making you feel seen right through, inside and out. 
“um, actually never mind. sorry, have a nice day!” albedo nods, scratching the back of his neck as he heads off. 
being unfathomably nervous and having a crush on someone farther than they appear was not a good mix.
--
you open the cabinet, ready to do some spring cleaning. your hand slips, accidentally knocking over an empty container. before you can pick it up, you notice a white packet that had been hidden underneath.
right. the sauce.
you hadn’t forgotten about it. you simply put it aside to try it out later with another food, just for a little adventure. but there was never any time to cook anything that would possibly go with an unknown condiment. 
or more like, no one to cook with.
you grab your phone and dial the number that you’ve pretty much memorized by now. you bite your lip while listening to the other line ring.
“hello, thank you for calling favonius pizza co. this is albedo, how may i help you?” 
“hi, albedo.” surely he’ll recognize your voice when he promised a next time, after all.
“oh, (y/n)? will it be the usual?” your stomach flutters from the way he perks up while saying your name. 
“no, but i’m so glad it’s you answering the phone. i actually wanted to talk to you regarding the sauce. um, do you mind maybe coming over when you get off from work and i can show you exactly what i wish to convey?”
this doesn’t feel right. asking someone you’ve only met twice over into your own house, just for the sake of your silly crush that led to silly little fantasies in your head-
“sounds good. it’s been really difficult gathering feedback from other customers, due to the lack of communication. and it also works out that i can see you in person so i don’t have to take up too much time during my shift. i’ll be there in an hour and a half or so.”
you stop gaping, realizing you have to confirm your meeting. “okay! take care and i’ll see you then!”
“bye.” with that, albedo hangs up.
you rush to set up the ingredients for your cooking, date, perhaps, with albedo. even if he didn’t think of you the same way that you did, you would always cherish him agreeing to spend time with you.
an hour passes by and he’s already promptly ringing the doorbell. you can’t help but feel your knees grow weak at the sight of him in his gray hoodie and light colored jeans, his hair uncovered without the cap. and his eyes glimmer differently, adding to the new feeling his casual attire grants the sight of albedo outside of work.
“hi! the kitchens right this way!” albedo takes off his shoes and follows you to the adjacent area, right to the counter.
“you seem to have gathered more than just the sauce. and you also didn’t order a pizza either.” he remarks placing a hand under his chin. 
“that’s because i wanted us to cook together and for you to see my reaction to it with other food. that’d add more variety to your results y’know?”
albedo continues to inspect the ingredients you had laid out for the chicken nuggets, picking up a jar of seasoning to smell it. “you’re definitely more invested in this than i expected you’d be.” he chuckles, the deep vibrations of his chest sending shivers down your spine.
“we shouldn’t have much of a problem if we’re doing this together, even though i’m not really the best at cooking. however there is one other thing i’ve realized...” albedo puts the jar down, turning to face you. he possesses the same observational look that he gave you the last time he delivered, and walks closer to you. the closing gap effectively cages you on the counter, your chests brushing against each other, making your breath hitch. 
“(y/n),” he hums. “were you really ordering pizza the last time? or were you ordering me, instead?” 
you want to reply, but any form of coherent speech dissipates in your throat. he’s so close, and normally you’d be embarrassed if someone was able to figure you out like this, yet you only found his curiosity and the way he pried into things even more attractive. especially if he had that kind of attitude towards you.
a sigh escapes your lips and you place a hand on his shoulder. “i like you albedo. and yes, i did only order pizza just because i wanted an excuse to see you. i’m sorry if i made you uncomfortable, and if you don’t feel the same way feel free to leave and never speak to me again. i mean that.”
albedo remains silent for a few seconds before blinking slowly and shyly taking your hand.
“i’m not going anywhere. people who care about my work...are important to me. and i do admire your directness.” he lightly strokes your skin. 
“perhaps i should give you what you asked for in your special delivery then, hm?” albedo chuckles. you giggle while playing with his fingers. 
feeling a little bit bold, you press your lips to his digits, causing him to short circuit on the inside at your touch. 
“i shall enjoy it then.” you whisper.
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huihuiheart · 4 years
Text
Claiming - Hybrid! San
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Ateez Masterlist
Pairing: Tiger Hybrid! San x Female Reader
Genre: Smut + Fluff
Summary: Part 2 of Obvious - San’s heat is coming to an end and he’s finally ready to hear your explanation for the events that brought it on in the first place. He also realizes though that some of those feelings he had during the week weren’t just his heat talking.
Warnings: The implied cheating from part 1 is explained, unprotected sex, marking, dom/sub themes, oral (f! receiving), degradation, dirty talk, cursing, soft and hard dom San, biting, claiming, blood, slapping (one to the thigh).
Word Count: 2,884
Note: This was finished and edited on breaks between my first day of a new job, with only three hours of sleep in my body, so it might be a mess. If you have concerns or things that seem like they need to be fixed please send me an ask or pm to resolve it.
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“A-All yours! I’m your filthy fucking slut! Your kitten! S-San please!” You wonder if you’ve done enough as he only curls his tongue into you once before pulling away again. When he’s flipping you over though and placing your hips on the highest part of the armrest to show your ass off you already know what he’s planning, “F-Fuck yes! San please, please fuck me so good! Show everyone who owns this pussy!”
San laughs breathlessly as he strips behind you, playfully spanking your ass as he teases his tip through your fold before gripping your hips harshly and suddenly thrusting all the way into you. Leaning down with a smirk he kisses the shell of your ear before whispering.
“Oh, I will, kitten. You’ll be dripping my cum for days.”
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You stirred by the feeling of fleeting kisses against the sensitive marks littering your neck. Your quiet whimper makes San slow his pace, being more gentle in the way his lips and tongue soothe at the marks he so harshly left behind over the last few days.
“Are you already ready for another round?” You whine softly, slumber still deep in your voice as you don’t even open your eyes yet. San was definitely built for weeks like this whereas you...not so much, despite how pleasant it was.
San chuckles deeply, “I mean I am, but that’s not why I woke you. I hadn’t intended to wake you at all. You’ve done so well for me this week, but you’re so exhausted now I just wanted to let you sleep.”
You hum softly with a small yawn, “You’re oddly soft right now, is your heat over already?”
“Not entirely, but it’s pretty much passed. I might get a sudden flash or two of heat today and tomorrow, the worst is over though. I’m at least coherent again.” San brushes the hair out of your face as your eyes finally flutter open to look up at him, before he kisses you softly, “Though eating you out might help with that a little bit too.”
You snicker knowing his statement was actually a request, “Go ahead then, you woke me up anyway and I’m too tired to stop you.”
San hums teasingly, “More like too enticed to stop me.”
You roll your eyes, making San laugh a little as he moves to hover over you, gently nudging your bare legs apart. You’re clothed in only a shirt and some panties knowing anything more wouldn’t have lasted during his heat anyways...not that these often did either. 
His hands ease up your thighs, inching closer and closer to your panties and the beginning of a wet spot that was forming. His thumb finding your clit through the thin fabric and rubbing slow circles onto it, easing your sensitive body into arousal once more. 
“Looks like I’m not the only one who’s ready to go again.” San teases, nuzzling up your thigh until he reaches your panties. His tongue giving slow laps over the wetness seeping through the material, a moan low in his throat at your taste. 
His heat is still spiking just slightly with you like this, so his hands are already moving to take your panties off. Going as slow as he can will with his heat making itself known still, not to tease for once though, simply to ensure your comfort after the last couple days of restless fucking. 
San’s rough tongue is slow and gentle in its movements between your folds. Watching your face closely to take in how you were feeling. When he determines that you’re feeling good and it’s not too much he places a soft kiss on your clit before giving it some attention. His lips around your clit shrouding your whole body in sweet bliss. His goal is just to bring you over the sweet edge once and to do so gently, letting your tensed worn-out body release and finally relax some. Only lapping your release up for a little bit, not wanting to overstimulate you, just to clean you up.
“So good for me, kitten. Such a good girl.” San praises softly and you buzz at the praise drawing him up for a brief kiss.
“Does this mean we can finally talk about what happened?” You inquire with a quiet voice not wanting to push anything, especially with San’s heat still lingering.
San hums, “We can, but not yet. First I’m going to draw you a nice bath to relax and clean up in and then I’m going to feed you some breakfast. We can talk once I’ve made sure you’ve had a chance to recover.” 
He kisses your forehead before going to do as he had said he was going to. Humming a soft tune as he goes, something that eases your worries about where you and he stood.
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Leaning back in your seat after finishing a full meal without interruption for the first time in four days you were starting to feel much more recharged now. Thinking that San may have had a good point in wanting to clean up and eat properly first. 
Resting your chin in your palm you watch him as he finishes up his own food and it makes him chuckle, “That eager to talk about it?”
“I mean...I’ve been anxious about it so kind of ready to get it over with. I’m worried about what you think of me.” You admit, leaning into San’s touch when you feel him cupping your cheek.
“I know I get jealous easily, but I trust you, my love. I know whatever explanation you have will be reasonable.” San encourages brushing his thumb over your skin.
“My brother is visiting, so I went to spend some time with him. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him, so there was a lot of hugging involved.” You laugh a little when San’s brows furrowed in confusion knowing the scent wasn’t anything like yours or anyone in your family, “He was my foster brother. My family looked after him for a few years until someone adopted him...well before we were able to anyways. He comes and visits when he can, but it’s not super often. I was going to tell you about it, considering he wants to meet you, but it kind of triggered your heat, so we’ve not really got a chance to talk about that.”
San flushes a little rubbing the back of his neck, “Yeah...we have been a bit preoccupied...but of course, I’d want to meet him! Though I am curious as to why he wants to meet me.”
“He said it’s because you’re important to me...and he says he can tell from how happy I am that you’re the one. So he wants to come to see if you have any wedding plans or anything I guess.” You laugh a little but notice how his ears perk up at the mention of weddings.
“Oh? It’s interesting you bring that up...cause my heat got me thinking about somethings.” San admits, blushing a slightly deeper hue now. 
This time it’s you who reaches out to him, cupping his cheek in your palm and trying to calm him, “Well you can talk to me about it if you’re ready to. You know that.”
San nods softly, hand slipping over yours and turning his head to kiss your palm, “I just want to move too fast and scare you away or anything.” 
“If you’re moving too fast I’ll say so, but I seriously doubt you’ll ever scare me away at this point. If that was going to happen it would have happened a long time ago.” You joke with him, trying to lighten the mood some and put him more at ease.
“Well we haven’t really talked about it too much, so for starters...hybrids don’t usually have a wedding as you would have. I mean...I’m not opposed to it of course especially for you and your family. I know how special and meaningful that is for you...but we take that step differently typically.” San explains, noticing how your face scrunches in confusion. You had done a lot of research about hybrids having San around and wanting to be familiar with his needs and what to expect, yet you’d never seen anything that you could think he could be talking about now.
“Well then what do you usually do? I want to know. If we were to have a wedding for me, then I’d want to do the equivalent for you too.” You encourage and he takes your hands in his carefully.
“Why don’t you hear what it is before making that decision, my love. It might not be so pleasant for you...like my heat you’ll be okay to handle it, but you weren’t made for it either. So if you don’t want to do it I understand.” San leans forward brushing your hair back and kissing your forehead softly, “For hybrids, we do something a lot less public...and a lot more intimate. Usually, we get the urge to do it while in our heat, but unless we really want that it goes away after our heat...that desire isn’t going away for me this time. I want it still.” 
Your skin is a bit heated at the implications, but you still have so many unanswered questions, “Just tell me what happens San. It’s alright.”
“When a hybrid and the person who he wants to be with forever...to be his mate are...well...breeding. He claims her, right here...” San’s thumb brushes over the sensitive skin on your sweet spot, the very spot he loves to suckle his marks onto, “ It’s a bite simply put, meant to leave a lasting mark for anyone to see. It will hurt and it will bleed, but I promise it will make you feel good too and I’ll take care of you if you were to agree.” 
You hum, processing his explanation for a moment, “And you want to do that with me?”
San nods almost immediately, “I do. I really...really do, but I don’t want to hurt you or do anything that would make you upset or uncomfortable.”
“Well, I’ll agree...on one condition.” You finally voice your opinion and it has San looking at you intently, waiting to hear whatever it was your condition would me. Ready to do anything in a heartbeat, “I want to do this in some sort of order that makes sense to me too...so propose first and once we’re engaged you can claim me in every way you want San.”
“Oh fuck...I totally forgot about the whole engagement thing...I have to get a ring, don’t I? ...fuck, I don’t even know where to start.” San whines and it makes you giggle.
“Who says we have to have the ring in hand for you to propose? You can ask without it...besides I’m sure my family would love to help you pick something out later.” You smirk at him, watching as it takes a minute to understand what you mean before getting giddy once again.
San scrambles down onto one knee, giggling a little himself, “Well then...Y/N will you marry me? Will you be my one and only? Forever?”
“Yes San, I will.” You giggle back, cupping his cheeks and leaning down to kiss him. Something he easily returns as he stands and takes you into his arms. 
It doesn’t take long for the kiss to become more intense, San’s heat flashing through him again at your agreeing and touch. It being enough to spur on another wave of desire, one that was obvious even to you as a human. In part because you knew him and in part due to the fact that his skin burned under your touch, his arousal building beneath his pants and pressing against your hip.
“Well go on then...if you want it so badly I’m not going to stop you San. I want it too, to be yours for the whole world to see...claim me San.” Your pleads have San growling, nipping at your lips before capturing them passionately once more. His hands groping at any part of you that they could get to as he gets more desperate to feel you again. 
San’s hands move to grip your thighs, pressing against you before picking you up to carry you back to your bedroom. His tongue laving over your sweet spot, before giving it special attention with his lips, only breaking away to lay you back onto the bed. 
“How sore are you, kitten?” San asks, hands toying with the hem of the shirt you were wearing as he watches your face.
“Not enough that you should hold back.” You smirk, knowing what he was asking and he smacks your thigh playfully, barely leaving a sting.
“Don’t get cocky with me, just because I’m trying to take care of my kitten. Besides you’re going to be sore again after this.” San’s words sound more like a promise than anything else as his lips find your throat again, seemingly fixed on it right now. His hands working your shirt up at a slow pace, not ready to leave the sweet spot his mouth was focused on again yet. 
“I better be. I like having that constantly reminding me of you. Besides, the things that lead to me being so sore are the most fun anyway.” Your words make San smirk against your skin, before pulling back to pull your shirt off entirely.
“Oh is that so kitten? Does my girl like it rough?” San mocks leaning down to bite playfully at your nipple, “Want me to ruin you?” 
“Fuck, yes...I do. I want it so badly.” Your desperation is growing along with his and making you both restless. San’s chuckle turns into a growl as he smells your arousal in the air. 
San’s fingers slip down between your folds, seeing how wet you were before quickly pulling your panties down. His hand moves to return to your folds until you push it away, making his eyes snap up to your face sternly.
“Easy there tiger.” You snicker, “I’m not stopping you, it’s just...” 
San’s brows furrow at your hesitance thinking maybe you were reconsidering this for now, until he sees how flustered you are instead of regret on your face, “What is it kitten?”
“Please no teasing...I’m already ready for you again, no prep.” You admit and San licks his lips looking down at your soaked folds. 
“Oh, so that’s what it is hm? And here I thought I was the desperate one with my heat.” San taunts, making quick work of his pants and letting his hard cock slap against his abs. 
You nod, biting your lip. Though soon it won’t matter what you do, San will have you screaming. San’s tip running through your sodden folds as something, before pushing into you. The feeling only more familiar after the last few days, but no less blissful. His hands gripping your hips, thumbs rubbing at your skin, before his touch gets firmer, holding you in place. His thrusts start slow, but deep and forceful, hitting all the right spots. Enamored with the way your breasts bounce with each thrust, leaning down and teasingly flicking his tongue over one of your nipples. 
As his pace picks up his hands move to your thighs, pushing them open to give himself full access to your heat. His one hand moving up again, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing circles onto it. His other hand now gripping your jaw to make you look into his eyes. His lips moving in towards yours, growling against your lips.
“Fuck kitten, you’re so good for me. You’re going to take it, won’t you? You’ll cum and then take everything I give you like a good girl won’t you?” San’s questions are more of a demand knowing that you could, but there’s a desperation to them that lets you know he needs your answer too. 
Your palms pull his face in for a kiss before moving his face to your neck again, fingers tangling into his hair and tugging to a nip and another growl.
"I...I'm going to cum for you San..." You keen, San thrusting harder, his fingers putting more pressure on your clit. Trying to distract you from the initial pain you would soon feel as he bites down onto your sweet spot the second he feels you cumming around him. The pain soon bleeds into white-hot pleasure coursing through your whole body, riding you through your orgasm, the more intense you've had yet as he cums inside of you.
Once you've both started to come back to reality San leans down, gently lapping at the wound as blood trickles out and onto your skin. Before giving you a short, sweet kiss.
"I'm going to clean that up and get it taken care of and then I'll take care of the rest of you kitten." He promises, kissing your forehead, " You've done so good for me you can rest now."
His words of assurance are all your body needs for you to start drifting off again. Only slightly registering the feeling of him cleaning and dressing the wound for you before you're entirely swept away into your dreams...dreams of the future. Of your future, with San.
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Tags: @foreveryouaremystar​
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kireiwoo · 3 years
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[12:37am] # choi jongho.
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“have you ever been surfing before?” you shake your head dumbly at the attractively muscular surf instructor’s question, drool accumulating under your tongue as he pushes his silky, dampened blonde hair back with the help of his veiny hand for the nth time today. your eyes are trained solely on the way his multicoloured wetsuit clings to the curve of his waist, a towel sinched attentively on the dip of his hip as he leans from one foot to another restlessly. choi jongho, you recall his name is; an awfully teasing and unbelievably strong surf instructor, but a damned good one at that. you’d seen him countless times before, teaching from children to relatively elder people the art of surfing—but you’d never personally interacted.
“well, i’ll have to show you the basics then, y/n.” your name sounded heavenly rolling off his tongue, and in spite of the awkward atmosphere, you smile for a split second before returning to your awestruck phase. he seemed pleased with his ability to render you silent with just a few words, his domineering prance to the countless lined surfboards making you meekly cower behind him. he hands you pink and yellow hibiscus-designed board, winking before retrieving his own one, and it feels like your soul has been practically revitalized from its cavern of hopeless romantic despair.
one thing that drastically separates him from the other lanky surfers is the buffed mass built on his body; his biceps are sculpted perfectly and abs poking through the thinness of his black wetsuit, and he stands tall as he waits for you to girlishly stumble over, cheeks burning and eyes dizzy from both the summer heat and his own blazing warmth. you offer a blanched smile, raising a hand to tenderly wipe the sweat drenching your forehead before attentively listening to his brisk instructions. his voice is endearingly high, like a grotesque rendition of a part-time schoolboy, but the smoothness of his curt instructive procedures calms the rapid beating of your heart; just listening to how he drones about his past experience and what to look out for.
it’s only when he stops speaking, gazing at you awkwardly that you realize you’d zoned out for the practical majority of his speech. something about how sea turtles were bizarrely frequent was the last sentence you’d coherently understood, but there was no remembrance to the actual information he supplied; and not wanting to make a fool out of yourself, you stiffly nod, pretending as if this prelude to your impending embarrassment was nonexistent.
and similarly to how you’d predicted, you ended up flunking and snubbing yourself vastly when attempting to surf. the ten-minute educational video about surfing you’d priorly researched was the basis of your attempts, and solid try after try, you failed in succeeding. noticing your perpetual struggle, jongho approaches you with a flurry of adorable bounces in his step; and whether it be the clustered shine from the water or the sheer determination bubbling in him, you could tell he was eager to help.
“you’re holding the board wrong—are you alright?” you gulp at his question, not physically responding but squeaking at his abrupt presence, “the preface of my entire instructional was about how to properly handle a board.” he chuckles as you pale considerably.
“i know it’s nerve-wracking; there’s so many circumstances in which this could end up negatively but y’know what, i believe in you! just keep trying!” his encouragement strikes a cord in you, making you feel unprecedented guilt for genuinely not paying your full respect to his teachings. receiving empathy was the last thing you deserved right now and you intended on informing him of your misleading mistakes. as he raves on more about how to hold the board, you clear your throat; his cheeks darken a tint and you wonder if he feels dismayed for bombarding you with loads of questionably useful statistics. clearly, he has a lot of knowledge and little space to exude it.
“i—um... sorry, this is probably extremely unprofessional, but i kind of zoned out earlier on account of...” you mumble the continuation shortly, squeezing the fabric of your swim gear impulsively. the action is shy enough to alert him that whatever you said might’ve been sensitive or out of anxiety, and although jongho hates to force you out of your comfort zone, his curiosity is insatiable.
“on account of what?” he echoes, a perplexed brow raising. his confusion makes you flustered as you recognize that you have to repeat the rather petulant phrasing you’d used earlier; but this was an invitation for honesty, and you’d use it wisely. “on account of my... uh—i guess you could say it’s a crush?—on you.” flabbergasted in silence, you frivolously panic over his lack of response—lack of movement; hell, he’d practically frozen, appearance glacial and destitute of emotion. perhaps you’d gotten a tad too zealous, using this opportunity too freely without conscience of filtering your words. maybe he was creeped out? of course, he’d only prospectively met you an hour ago, exchanging handshakes with the promise of professionalism and pledges to do your best.
although jongho would never confess or admit to it, he’s noticed you quite a few times as well. the consistency in your cutely obvious stares arose some sort of blushy lustre on his countenance, and he oftentimes found himself victim to stuttering whenever he felt that same admirable gaze boring interestedly into the back of his head. he’d taken notice to how you scheduled your time at the beach specifically to his shifts, and contrary to popular opinion, whereas people would find this dedication obsessive or unlawfully desperate, he found some sort of zeal in your commitment. that perhaps you didn’t just view him as some temporary piece of eye-candy to come and go, only to find purpose in staring at a random other beefy hunk. perhaps it was because he was deprived of his own romanticism, but he’d developed a slight crush on you as well. and while he had his suspicions of your feelings, there were lingering inklings of doubt shovelled somewhere in his brain—hearing this confession just made everything so... bright.
colours popped and the water was suddenly warm; the skies were perfect and the clouds appearing fluffy as wool. jongho felt a spark of electricity surge through him followed by a dull buzzing that lit his lower stomach. his face was vacant of emotion but the energy bulldozing through him was comparable to lightening. the water swished against your surf board, creating a satisfying sound effect as you gradually felt the anticipation eat away until you were left disappointed. but before you could squabble away, jongho had already wrapped his hand around your wrist, securing the grip with a gentle, complacent squeeze.
“you’re right—this is probably one of the most unprofessional things in the book, but... i, me—i kind of have a... tiny crush on you too.” he looked away after the exposition, teeth impulsively biting his lip even though you’d already confirmed your own feelings. your heart stuttered momentarily and in a fit of joy, you’d tackled jongho straight into the pearlescent water, eyes pure with happiness and smile contagious.
choi jongho is a part-time surf instructor; he works mondays to fridays and generously shows up for work on volunteered, non-paid shifts simply because he loves his job. he enjoys recanting stories of past bizarre experiences and he loves the ocean above all—however, he wouldn’t mind bending a few expectations and rules simply to appease his infatuation, and although it was completely unprofessional, maybe he could teach you how to surf outside of work? or catch dinner by the bay? maybe even watch those darned sea turtles toddle up to the shore to greet the locals, but whenever and whatever it was, he knew he would have a partner in crime now—and you knew that you’d have a talkative yet awkward sweetheart to lug around with you; perhaps, things really did work out in the end.
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bonny-kookoo · 4 years
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Soulmates (JJK x Reader) ☁️🔞💜
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✨ Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader
✨ Genre: Angst, Breakup AU, Idol AU, Smut, fluff/romance
✨ Warnings: Breakup, crying kookie because that needs to be a warning, arguing, shouting, some mean things being said, safe sex because we wrap it up even if we’re sad friends, vanilla sex, it’s just basic lovemaking y’all what do you think this is, hopeless romantic Jungkook, jk is super bad expressing his feelings and kinda petty
✨ Summary: Jungkook always told you that you were his soulmate. But sometimes, soulmates aren’t meant to be, are they?
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Jungkook had a nasty habit.
And it was that every time he thought he was right, he became selfish. And no, not in any cute kind of way. He would start to chase his own tail in a sense; completely blocking out any kind of other opinion than his on a topic. It lead to the shouting match you both had now; his voice considerably louder than usual, a whine to his tone that in no way was intended to be charming. No, the way he drawled out certain syllables was to only further make sure you knew how upset he was.
"What do you want me to do!" He yelled, looking at you with a gaze that you knew could easily guilt-trip you into giving in. But this time he needed to be an adult, you needed him to understand your side of the situation as well. "I can't just make everything disappear and make everyone forget my face." His eyes were still hard. "They'll figure it out anyways, I don't get why we have to hide it anyways!" He groans out, as you sigh, a headache incoming.
"Because it would be the end, Jungkook." You argue back, voice however in no way as loud and stern as his was. "I'm not telling you that you have to be an actor onstage, but I'm asking you to leave our problems and arguments Off-Stage Jungkook. Everyone on twitter got concerned why you were so serious during your stage!" You said. Because this had been the main issue at hand. He have had a concert just a few hours ago, but you weren't able to attend it. The reason had been that some staff members forgot to pick you up from the airport due to some problems that had come up last minute. You had been understanding, simply ending up taking a cab to yours and his shared apartment, watching his performance via livestream instead. He'd sounded upset over the phone, frustrated even, yet you had tried to reassure him that it wouldn't be his last- you would always be there the next. What did upset you however, was how he had been openly upset onstage about it. He seemed agitated, serious, and not his usual self, which had lead to not only his bandmates scolding him, but also you. You had simply asked him to remember that fans couldn't know what happened away from the cameras. They didn't know, and they had no hand in it either- he was being unfair by punishing them with his behavior. But his habit of growing hostile when critic got too personal blasted everything out of proportion, now ending in the situation you had in his kitchen.
"Well, I'm not gonna go up there and be all happy while I don't even know if you're safe!" He barks back. "You're just as important to me as the band, as my job, can't you appreciate that?" He whines, and your eyes become even more upset.
"Jungkook, I do appreciate it, but it's also what I'm scared of." You say, and he furrows his brows. "You can't do this Jungkook, please. I told you I can wait, I'll wait forever, but this is a limited time. I want you to enjoy it fully, without responsibilities, because they'll be there soon enough. I want you to be with your band 100%." You say, and he suddenly grows quiet.
"You sound like you're breaking up with me right now." He wonders across from you, his voice now eerily low and considerably less loud and angry. You can't look at him.
"I don't know if I should." You answer him, and his eyes suddenly widen a bit, glistening as the tip of his nose turns red. He's close to crying, you know it. But you have to do what's best.
"Don't." He says, hands balling into fists before he nervously wipes them down his sweatpants, suddenly on edge. He's always like this whenever he's unsure of what he's supposed to do. It's quite endearing, if it wasn't because of such a matter. "You- We'll find a solution, I shouldn't have, you know, gotten so upset-" He starts, but you shake your head.
"Please, let's just.. not." You mumble, and you still can't look up at him. "I'll uhm.. I'll sleep on the couch, okay? I try and be gone tomorrow morning." You say, and only now do you move, trying to get out of the kitchen, as he suddenly embraces you from behind, his large body shaking as he struggles to form a coherent sentence through his tears.
"No no I didn't mean it-" He apologizes, even though there is nothing there to say sorry for. "I'll be better, I'm sorry, I won't do it again-" He chokes out, but you hesitantly grab his hands, trying to unravel his arms around you. He holds on tight, like a toddler not wanting his mother to go and leave him alone. It somehow feels just as heartbreaking to you. "Don't go, I'm not letting you, please stay.." He begs, and it reminds you of a tamper tantrum your friends kid held in a store a few weeks back.
"Jungkook please, don't.. don't make it so hard." You say, trying to be brave but ultimately failing as you have to swallow hard to keep your own feelings locked. At least until you're alone. You finally manage to get out of his hold, as he stands before you, eyes red and cheeks wet with his tears as his bottom lip trembles visibly.
"Are- you serious?" He asks, voice higher in pitch as he struggles to keep it steady. "You'll leave me alone like that?" He almost accusingly says, and you sniffle.
"You're not alone Jungkook, you're never alone. You shouldn't even be here, you should be sleeping at the dorms like you used to. I'm just pulling you away from the band, and its not fair! I have no rights to do it, I'm being selfish, I'm now interfering with your work as well, Jungkook, don't tell me you're this blind." You say, as he looks at the floor, caught red handed.
Jungkook dries his nose on his sweater sleeve as he swallows. "I'll.. go and sleep at the dorms then. You uhm.. can take the bed." He mumbles, as you nod, even though you probably won't be able to. "Are you.. will you.." He starts, and you nod with a sad smile.
"My promise still stands." You say. "If you'll still want me then, I'll wait until this dream is over." You say. He nods, biting his lip as he grows unsure again. He doesn't know what to do, if he should hug you, or not, kiss you, or not, hell he doesn't even know if he can look at you now. So he simply nods again, shuffling away as you stay put, listening to him putting his shoes on, as the door shuts after he leaves.
Only then does it hit you.
And only then, do you let yourself cry, sob as you scream and fall to the ground, letting it out.
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As he sits in the living room he once felt so familiar in, he notices how alienated he feels. It's awkward as Jimin and Suga look at him, unsure what they should say. Only now does Namjoon come into the room, surprised to see the youngest. "What's going on?" He asks, and Taehyung gives a bottle of water to Jungkook, as the youngest mumbles his answer.
"We broke up." He says, and everyone seems to grow sad at it. They really liked you, even though everyone had been wary at first; you had proven to them however, that you were genuinely in love with Jeon Jungkook, and not only the Jungkook of BTS that made headlines if he only did as much as sneeze in public. His money didn't matter to you and neither did his fame- yet they had all feared this outcome. "She said uhm.. she doesn't want to interfere with my work so.."
Suga nods at this, and sighs. "Mature choice." He says. "Shows she cares about you." He concludes, as Jimin seems to want to argue. Jungkook shrugs. "But I think a lot of it came from you." He speaks, as he looks at the youngest, who furrows his brows. "Think about it. It was your choice to spend your time at your private apartment rather than here so you could be with her. You get upset when she doesn't text you, and fuss over her if she gets hurt." He explains, as Jungkook suddenly feels as if he's being scolded again, huffing as he slids into the couch with frustration. "But that's who you are; you invest yourself 100% if you find something that makes you happy." Yoongi puts his phone away.
"That's totally helping, hyung." He grumbles out, as Jimin throws one leg over the other.
"I think what he's trying to say is that you have to find a good balance." Hoseok says as he sits down as well. "You always give it your all, and thats great, but it wont work long-term. Split your time equally, make space for a piece of everything instead of trying to carry it all at once." Jungkook sighs, as he feels his eyes sting again.
"Well, doesn't matter anyways." He huffs out, as his voice chokes up again. "Guess at least PD-Nim will be happy." He grits out before he begins to cry again, everyone at loss on how to comfort the youngest of the group.
Jimin chimed in at that, gently scolding the youngest. "Now thats unfair." He says. "He's not gonna be happy over you being upset Jungkookie." He scolds, and Jungkook looks down at his hands in his lap.
He knows hes being petty and childish right now. He knows things like these happen. He knows that you love him, and that you're probably just as upset as he was.
But he was heartbroken as well.
And he hates it.
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It takes him a while to figure it out.
It takes him to break down during a concert in front of thousands as he realizes its the first ever since your breakup; as he remembers that no, this time he won't go home to his own apartment but he'll share a room again. He won't be rubbing his sweaty hair teasingly on your neck to hear you laugh and yell at him to stop. He won't be getting to hold you through the night after he'd made sure you both felt close and satisfied before he'd fall asleep with you.
It takes for him to cover a heartfelt song with your name on the tip of his tongue, making fans fawn over the emotional tune in his voice as he let's go of his pent up feelings through the only thing he knows he's good at; music.
But he eventually figures it out.
BTS is granted a small hiatus, a moment to breathe, as he immediately knows what he wants to do with the time he'd been gifted. He visits his parents, tells them about you and his plans, and feels even more motivated as he finally returns home into his private apartment, previously owned by him and you. He wonders how many nights you'd fallen asleep in front of the TV waiting for his live concerts to be shown. He sits down, grabbing his phone, as he calls your number, secretly wondering if you've changed it.
You didn't.
Nothing is being said at first, until he speaks. "Hey."
"Hey." You answer, unsure.
"I've made time now." He says, and you sigh on the other side of the line, saying his name as you're ready to argue, before he stops you. "No no no not like that, aish.." He runs a hand over his face, hair longer now as he thinks about what to say next. "Long term. I.. Yoongi-hyung said that I'm merely growing up, and that that includes changing, but-" He starts, and his voice is a bit raspy from slight overuse from recording another cover earlier that day. "I wanna grow up with you, not away from you. I wanna change, but I want to change right next to you I-" He stutters a bit as he grows nervous. "I don't want to wait until this dream ends Y/N.." He says, throat closing up as he thinks about how you maybe changed your mind. He can't give up like this, though. "I want to live this dream with you." He finishes, and its quiet for a moment. Until he hears you sniffling.
"You're stupid." You say, and start to laugh as he does too.
"Where are you right now?" He asks, and you sniffle again before you can answer.
"Crying at Hangang bridge, what about you?" You chuckle, and he smiles at no one in particular.
"Can you.. Can I pick you up?" He wonders, picking at the ends of his sweatpants' strings. You agree, and he gets up immediately, grabbing his jacket, a mask, and his cap as a disguise.
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The door hits the wall with a loud noise, making Jungkook hiss a bit as he's a bit startled by the noise, before he simply resumes in kissing you feverishly, not caring much about any damage might done as he closes it shut behind him. He slips out of his shoes and picks you up with ease after you've discarded yours as well, stumbling a bit with you in his arms as he laughs on the way into his bedroom, your arms safely around his neck in fear he could drop you.
He'd never.
He makes sure your back meets the mattress softly as you both shuffle out of your jackets, his cap meeting the floor somewhere as he unhooks the mask from behind his ears, the fabric having been moved to rest under his chin anyways, simply to be able to kiss you silly. He shrugs off his coat as his hands help you to throw your shirt over your head, his body crawling over yours as his hands move over your skin. He's in heaven, absolutely insane for your touch as your cold hands slip under his oversized carhartt shirt. He wonders for a moment how he could ever make it work without you, without your presence, your touch, your love and care for him. He's happy he doesn't have to, glad he was able to pull you back towards him, as he leaves open mouthed kisses along your neck, carefully cupping your breasts until he unhooks your bra, helping you discard the piece of underwear before he places a few kisses on their bare skin as well, relishing in the feeling of them, warm and soft in his palms.
"I love you so much." He mumbles onto your skin as if to tattoo the words underneath it, to keep them safe inside your flesh never to be forgotten by you.
"I love you more." You humm against his lips as his meet yours, his grin making his eyes crinkle at the sides as he helps you get him and you out of the rest of your clothes. He moves away for a moment to get a condom, before he jumps back on the bed in a manner that's almost too childish considering what you're about to do, but somehow it's so undeniably Jungkook that you simply laugh, closing your eyes as your head falls into the wrinkled bedsheets below.
"Impossible." He answers a little late, as he slips on the safety over his length, kissing you again as he carefully slips inside you, breathing out a sigh of relief at the feeling of your warmth around him. "You feel like home." He humms out, a rough grunt escaping him as he begins to move his hips, years of dancing experience making it easy for him to find a rhythm perfect for you both. You still smile.
"You're so cheesy." You huff out, as you look at him, his hair falling downwards as your hand instinctively reaches for the back of his head, pulling him onto your lips again, hooked on his taste as he needily bites your lower lip, sucessfully opening your lips to grant him access. A younger, more innocent version of him would've thought of this sloppy and intimate way of kissing as weird and maybe even gross, but his current version couldn't care less. He'd do anything to feel close to you.
So he doesn't care that your juices make your bodies slippery, that his sweat starts to collect on his temples, or that the sheets underneath you two would probably have to be washed. It doesn't matter, because he's with you, he's holding you' he's inside you- nothing could make him stop now.
When he reaches his climax, spiling into the condom inside you, he reaches between you two, inked hand finding your most sensitive spot as he eagerly moves his fingers over it, making your whine and whimper as you come undone as well, clenching around his sensitive cock as he breathes heavily, letting his head rest on your shoulder as you both take a moment to collect yourselves.
He laughs after a moment, slipping out of you with a slight hiss at the sensitivity, before he heavily rolls onto his side, taking a deep breath before he groggily heaves himself into a sitting position, discarding the condom before he flicks on the bathroom light with a click, the sound of gushing water soon filling the apartment as he filled the bathtub with warm water, carefully opening a drawer where some of the bathsalts and soaps were kept, before he puts some in, gentle smell meeting his nose as he smiles softly. He tucks some of his hair behind his ear as he steps back into the bedroom, corners of his mouth still turned upwards as he spots you still laid out on his bed. "Come on, let's take a bath, yeah?" He humms, as you smile sleepily, letting him carry you into the bathroom where he sits you down in the tub, returning into the room after he'd put the sheets into the hamper in the bathroom, and put new ones onto the bed, ready for when you both would return.
He steps into the tub, sitting behind you as he leans back against the cold tiles, you in his arms as he sighs. "I mean it, you know." He says as takes the loofah from the side, gently moving it over your arms as he carefully cleans your skin. "I'll balance it out better. I promise-" He says, as he moves your hair away from your neck over your shoulder, kissing the top of your other. "I'll be better. I promise." He concludes, before you move, turning around as you return his soft gesture, moving the soapy sponge over his skin as well as he watches you with fond eyes.
"Okay." You say, and almost laugh as his eyes widen, brows shooting up into his hair as he grins, moving forwards to hug you tight, uncaring for a moment that the water slightly spills off the sides, making him look at it in surprise for a second, before you both laugh as he lathers your face in sloppy kisses.
"Thank you!" He repeats. "Thank you- thank you- You won't regret it, I'll be good, promise!" He says, and you smile at him.
You know he's gonna keep his promise.
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You're happily chewing on your snack Jungkook had bought you earlier, as your head rests on the crook of his neck, your legs thrown over his lap as you sit on his thigh, his hands clicking the mouse and typing on the keyboard as he adjusts some stuff. He'd invited you to spend some time with him at the studio, only if you wanted to of course, and he did tell you it would probably be boring. You disagreed, even now- sure, you weren't doing anything, but it was interesting to see him produce songs. He clicks to save his project, before he shuts down his computer, leaning back in his chair as he groans, head falling backwards. "Done?" You ask, and he shakes his head.
"Not quite, but I shouldn't be working anyways." He says, as he pulls his phone out of his jean pocket, checking something before he playfully slaps the side of your bottom. "Alright, up up, we have a camper van to pick up and some bags to carry love." He exclaims, and you smile. He'd decided after a bit of brainstorming to take you on a small trip to jeju Island, having managed to get in contact with some people to be granted access to a more private campsite, so he could spend his small trip as safe as possible with you. He'd post any picture of the scenery and him later, after the trip- he knew how easily his fans could pin point where he was from past experience.
As he locks the door of his studio, he walks down the hallway with your hand in his, mindlessly, as if it's second nature for him to hold it anywhere he goes with you. Its charming, how he doesn't even notice he's doing it anymore.
He even opens the car door for you while he talks, again not noticing it at all as he simply continues what he's doing, driving you both to your now officially shared apartment. He'd had a talk with his bandmates about him and the dorm life- and they had all agreed that it was okay if he wanted to move in with you. As long as he'd spend enough time with them to not end up growing apart again, they were fine with it. After all, he was growing up, and that also meant for him to grow more independent.
He put the bags into the back of his car, a rented Palisade, as he drove you both to the airport, the plane you both board taking you to Jeju in a mere hour. A cab takes you two to the rental service where the campervan was already waiting for you two. He smiles as he moves everything into the van, thanking the guy providing some explanations on how things work, before he sits in the drivers' seat, you climbing in beside him on the passenger seat. He grins for a moment before he turns on the engine, driving off as you smile as well.
You don't know how the future is gonna go for the two of you. You're sure this wasn't the last hurdle you would be facing, but you're more sure than ever that you would manage it somehow. You'll make it work. You know that.
Because at the end of the day, you're still his soulmate. And they'll always find a way to be together.
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Thank you for reading everyone, and please stay safe and healthy!
Love, Bonny. (C)2020 Bonny-Kookoo. Please do not repost, translate, or edit my content. Thank you very much.
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pellucidity-is-me · 3 years
Text
Poppy Pomfrey Hates Werewolves
Summary: The year is 1971, and Madam Pomfrey is finding it more difficult than expected to care for an eleven-year-old werewolf student. She turns to a late-night conversation with Minerva McGonagall in order to soothe her frustrations.
Wordcount: 3843
Poppy Pomfrey hated werewolves.
No, that wasn't the right wording. Poppy loved Remus very much; she thought that he was a clever, lovable boy who deserved to be at Hogwarts more than some of the other ridiculous buffoons (ahem: Potter and Black).
In fact, the Lupins in general were lovely people. Poppy remembered Remus' father, Lyall Lupin, from her first year at Hogwarts—he’d been six years older than she was and in a different House, so they hadn't been close. Yet she did remember that Lyall was a lot like Remus in the sense that he'd received very good marks and was usually quiet and mild-mannered. But his temper! Arguments with Lyall were bound to lead to a fight—either the Muggle way or the wizarding way; Lyall was willing to participate in either. Poppy saw Lyall in Remus often, even though she hadn't known Lyall very well. They looked alike, yes, but there was also something deeper. Both had odd interests and were a bit eccentric. Both were clever. Both had an unexpectedly honed sense of humor. And both (as Poppy knew from some of Hope's letters) were very prone to guilt.
Hope was Remus' mother, and Poppy liked her just as much as she liked Remus. She was a wonderful mother and a lot of fun. A stereotypical doting mother, really. Hope, like Lyall and Remus, was very funny, and Poppy often found herself laughing out loud at her letters. Poppy probably learned much more about young Remus than Remus would have been comfortable with, but Hope just couldn't help oversharing. Poppy suspected that she'd never before had anyone to talk to about Remus without fear of his lycanthropy getting out. Poppy liked Hope so much, in fact, that they had plans to meet during Christmas holidays. Poppy could see the two of them becoming very good friends.
Yes, Poppy was fond of Remus, as well as both of his parents. But she hated werewolves.
Not werewolves. Not really. Poppy hated lycanthropy. Poppy hated the fact that Remus had to go through unimaginable pain every single month. And he was so young! Four years old, that's how old he had been. It made Poppy feel ill sometimes, and it was the type of illness that even she—the most experienced school matron in the world, probably—could not cure.
It had gone relatively well for the first couple of months—well, not well, per se, but they’d survived. At least Remus had always been conscious and somewhat coherent afterwards. Remus had a habit of making jokes when he was uncomfortable, and it always made it easier to stop feeling so horrible when he was making the odd sarcastic comment. But the first December full moon was far worse than usual. 
When Poppy crawled through the tunnel the morning after the December full moon and saw Remus, unconscious on the floor and bleeding out, she nearly vomited. She wasn't ready for this! She couldn’t! She’d never had to do anything like this before, and this was absolutely terrible. He shouldn’t have to deal with that every month. She shouldn’t have to deal with this every month. 
How dare Dumbledore ask her to help him? She was only human. She couldn't see this, month after month and day after day. Such a young student. So small and thin and delicate. This was horrible for her, too!
And no one even asked her! It wasn't as if Dumbledore had said "Good morning, Poppy, would you be willing to care for a werewolf in September 1971?" No, he had flat-out told her that there was nothing she could do about it. She still remembered his exact words. A very special student... infected with lycanthropy... deserves a chance to learn, as all children do... Poppy will be caring for him after full moons... Don't try to protest his coming here, I have made my decision. Ridiculous. The man never asked anyone else's opinion. 
Poppy wouldn't have protested, though, and she felt even worse when she realized what she was insinuating. Remus, stay home and never come to Hogwarts? That wouldn't stop the transformations; that would only make them worse. Besides, having to see it was nothing compared to actually going through it... But still. It was so hard to think of it all—so difficult to be given a burden that no one, be it child or school matron, should have to carry.
Poppy was used to being able to help people. That was her job. She loved helping people. But there was no cure for lycanthropy, and it was far beyond Poppy’s abilities to comprehend, even, how terrible it must be for the eleven-year-old child... for a five-year-old child. Remus had endured countless full moons, and each one left him with injuries worse than some of the worst accidents that Poppy had ever seen. It made her sick.
Regardless of her feelings, though, Poppy now stood in the Shrieking Shack. Her wand was dangling limply from her hand as she stared at the deep gashes in the wall and the equally limp boy on the floor who had somehow—somehow—made them.
She couldn't help it at that point. She left. She couldn't look at him any longer; it was driving her mad.
She'd always thought magic to be a wonderful thing: capable of healing and helping and loving. But it wasn't. Magic wasn't all good at all. Here was the darker side—the horrific, awful, terrifying side that left eleven-year-old children so ill that they couldn't eat, turned them into horrifying beasts against their will, and then left them bruised and broken on the floors of their own torture chambers. Why did she even try? She couldn't change anything. She'd never help Remus Lupin, no matter how much time she spent soothing his worries and healing his injuries. He'd always have to go through this. There was no cure, and Poppy felt helpless. She hadn't felt this awful since she'd failed that student who spent half a year as a rock.
She’d only meant to leave for a bit (she needed more potions for Remus, anyhow, and she also needed a bit of air. Remus would be fine). But then she came across a panicking Slughorn who professed that a girl had drank too much of a potentially deadly potion and needed to be taken to St. Mungo’s. The girl’s parents weren’t available. Someone would have to take her.
When Professor John Questus, current Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, offered to stay and look after Remus, Poppy couldn’t help but seize the opportunity to take a breather.
So she took the girl to St. Mungo’s herself and left Remus with the Defense professor. She needed some time away—some time to think things over. She knew that it was probably the better option to stay with Remus, but she couldn't. She couldn't help popping in every few hours over Floo to make sure that Remus had not died due to her negligence—but she stayed away, for the most part. And she talked to Remus' toad that had crept into her apron. He really was good conversation, even if he was slimy-looking and warty.
"What was your name? Bufo?"
Bufo blinked.
"Do you think I've failed?"
Bufo cocked his gross little head.
"People trusted me, and I just left. That's unacceptable."
Bufo croaked.
"I'm a terrible matron." Poppy felt tears well up in her eyes. She'd left Remus to John Questus. John Questus! He was probably asking Remus all sorts of uncomfortable questions and snapping at him for being too emotional when Remus needed love and comfort and care. Because that was what John Questus did. As a former Auror, he knew Healing magic, to be sure... but he just wasn’t the type of person to care for a scared child. 
Remus was injured, and Poppy had left him—left him!—all alone on the floor of the Shrieking Shack—the Shrieking Shack!—with no one to help him. What if he had woken up all alone and scared and in pain and waited, but no one came, and then the most horribly unsympathetic professor at Hogwarts showed up and told him that Poppy had left! Just left! Poppy didn't want to think of how awful Remus, who already mistakenly assumed that most everyone hated him, might have felt.
Suddenly, she felt a small weight on her shoulder. She opened her eyes and saw Bufo snuggling against her neck. Poppy sniffed and patted his leathery skin a bit—he wasn't so bad, after all.
And Remus seemed mostly okay when she'd returned to Hogwarts. John had missed one of his wounds, and it ended up becoming terribly infected. Poppy was angry with John at first, but it didn't take long before she realized that it was her fault. The man wasn't an experienced Healer, after all, even though he did know a bit of Healing magic. Remus was her job, and she'd abandoned him just because she was feeling emotional.
Now it was Tuesday, and Poppy was certain that Remus would sleep through the night. He was looking so much better, and Poppy had no doubt that he would be all right upon going back to classes on Wednesday. Even his arm was healing up, and he'd managed to walk around the Hospital Wing the other day without any problems—he even took a bath all by himself. So she left him in her office (under the watchful eyes of Bufo), and went to talk to Minerva McGonagall.
Minerva and Poppy had been in the same year at Hogwarts and had been acquaintances (despite the fact that they were in different Houses). Since Minerva had already been teaching when Poppy had become the matron, they'd only gotten closer. Poppy would consider Minerva to be her closest friend, even—they certainly saw a lot of each other. They'd been colleagues for about twenty years now. It was mad, how quickly the time flew.
Poppy knew that Minerva was uncomfortable around Remus (she never liked werewolves much), but it was clear that she was trying—Poppy appreciated that. And Remus seemed to enjoy Minerva's company (but then again, he seemed to enjoy everybody's company. Even John Questus', for some reason). Poppy had never spoken to Minerva about Remus one-on-one (though she tended to chatter about him during staff meetings), but she was sure that Minerva wouldn't mind.
She knocked on Minerva's door, and Minerva let her in with a smile. "Poppy. May I help you?"
"I... only need to talk." Poppy often came to Minerva to chat; despite Poppy's no-nonsense exterior and usually-immaculate bedside manner, she was frightfully emotional. Anyone who told the students that, though, would be getting a rather nasty hex that Madam Pomfrey "wouldn't be able to heal".
"Of course," said Minerva. "Come in; I'll make tea."
"Are you sure? It's late, and I don't want to keep you up."
"I'm sure. I was having trouble sleeping, anyway."
"Yes, I noticed that your hair is still up."
Minerva smiled and undid her bun. "It's been a long day. Do you know, Potter and Black still insist on calling me by my first name? Those insolent, disrespectful..."
"I can't believe that Remus is friends with them."
"Is this about Remus, then?" said Minerva, nearly laughing. "You have that same look on your face whenever you talk about him during the staff meetings."
Poppy rearranged her face. "Look? What kind of look?"
"You worry about him. Understandably so, of course."
"Yes, yes." Minerva offered Poppy a teacup, and she took it gratefully. "I just... I can't. Minerva, it's awful!"
Minerva sat back patiently with her own cup of tea, not even batting an eye. "Yes, I know."
It all came spilling out at once. "I've done research! We all have! Did you read the article in the paper? The Shrieking Shack, they call it. Shrieking? Wolves don't shriek, Minerva—people do! It's painful; it's hurting him! And his pain threshold is so incredibly high that I... I can't even... I can't even imagine how bad it is, to make him hurt enough to actually cry out. He's so thin and sickly and pale all the time, and he's so small and delicate for his age, and he... I can't get over his pain threshold! He doesn't even flinch when I heal a broken bone, Minerva. Doesn't even flinch. He walks all the way back to the castle, month after month, with worse injuries than... than anything, really.
"And he just has to live with it—wounds all over his body all the time, can't even heal up completely before the next full moon rolls around, can't eat properly on the day before, can't even attend class because he's feeling so sickly. He gets through injuries that would cripple a grown man... and complains less than a miffed Gryffindor when Slytherin wins the House Cup! And he has to live with it! All the time!"
Minerva looked appropriately saddened and kept listening silently. She was good at that.
"He was four, he told me. Four, nearly five. He was attacked by a fully-fledged werewolf—and he let slip that said werewolf attacked him on purpose!—when he was a little more than a toddler. I've seen the scar, and I know enough about injuries to know that it must have been life-threatening. And most of it is on his shoulder, just near his neck! Just... can you imagine? Being a four-year-old child and a werewolf biting you—only inches away from snapping your neck... and then living as one? He's traumatized! He has nightmares, Minerva! Still! After six years, and he flinches whenever I get close."
Minerva pursed her lips and refilled Poppy's tea, which she had spilled all over her lap. Poppy didn't even care at this point.
"I hate it. I hate it. I hate coming to the Shack and seeing him half-dead. I hate his complacent expression, like he's been through it many before... because he has! He has! It's... what, eighty times now? I don't know! And he probably doesn't even keep track, because it's such a normal thing now! That sort of thing should never be normal! And not for a child, especially. A child! Eleven, but he looks so much older—he's so much more mature than he should be—he's seen more than children should, been through more than I have! Merlin's beard. Sometimes I want him to yell at me and get angry over it all, because he never really has. Cool as a cucumber about the whole thing. He's FINE, he says!"
Tears were running down Poppy's face now, but she made no attempt to stop them. Minerva had seen her cry many, many times before. In fact, she'd cried most recently when she'd lost her favorite pair of slippers. It was hard, keeping it in all day for fear of frightening the students.
"And no one ever asks me how hard it is. No one ever talks about me. Plenty of people say "poor Remus", and goodness knows he deserves it, even if he doesn't want it. But no one even thinks about how hard it is for me—to help a child—with an incurable illness—that I can't do anything about! To watch him fight through unimaginable pain, to see him suffering, to watch him get feverish and pass out in the middle of a sentence and refuse to eat and drown his pain in books! He's just... in my office... for days, every single month... and I just have to go about my business, knowing that there's nothing I can do. There's no cure! He won't even let me help him before a full moon because potions and things irritate him on the full moon. There's nothing I can do! Think about it! I can't get over it!"
Minerva wordlessly handed Poppy a handkerchief, and Poppy blew her nose. "It's not just about him," Poppy said, calming down a little. "It's not just about me, either. It's just... it's something that made me realize how much darkness is in the world... how unfair things are... how people can suffer so much without deserving it. I knew, before. But I didn't really believe it... and now it's just all so overwhelming. There are so many hurting people in the world. Remus isn't even the only werewolf in Britain. And I can't help everyone. I'm confined to this school—this small school in a world full of billions of people—and I can't... even... help everyone... in the tiny school! I hate it."
Minerva spoke for the first time. "I know," she said, and stood up to embrace Poppy tightly. "I know." A minute later, she pulled away, and the front of her robes were wet from Poppy's tears. Poppy could sense helpful advice coming. "Do you want to know what I think?" Minerva asked quietly, and Poppy looked up at her with watery eyes.
"What?"
"We all have varying levels of pain. I think that all of us have a sort of pain that unimaginable to another. Such is life. We shouldn't dwell on the pain that we all inevitably have: instead, we should focus on the good things that we have. Remus Lupin is a... well, he's ill. But he has two wonderful parents who love him. His 'normal' is different from ours, but that doesn't mean he has a completely awful life. It's just a different kind of normal—a new normal."
Poppy nodded and sniffed a little.
"And he has three friends who accept him."
"We don't know that."
"For right now, they do. And he has plenty of intelligence and activities that he enjoys. And he plays outside with his friends—did you see his face at the last Quidditch match? Or on Halloween?"
"No, I was sitting with the Hufflepuffs. And the full moon wasn't until November second."
"I've never seen him so happy," Minerva assured her. "It isn't the dark that we should focus on, it's the light that cancels it out. With all people—everyone that you can't help. It's just life, Poppy. Just life. No matter how much we think about how awful things are, they won't change... but thinking about how wonderful things are can change our mindsets, at least."
Poppy granted her a watery smile. "Thank you. That helps."
"Of course it does. I'm a very helpful person, you know."
Poppy nodded, ever thankful. "Now that I've done my ranting," she said, feeling a lot better than she had been feeling mere minutes ago, "I'll give you some time to rant about Potter and Black."
"Oh, thank goodness." Minerva straightened up and immediately went off on a tirade about their shenanigans: disrespect, loud voices, lack of motivation, disregard for the rules... et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. Poppy had heard it all before.
"I think you like them," said Poppy slyly once Minerva had finished.
"What? No!"
"Oh no, you definitely like them. Potter is fantastic at Transfiguration, is he not? And flying? Both things that you're talented at, yourself."
"Well... maybe I do like them a little," admitted Minerva with a heavy sigh, "merely because they're Gryffindors through and through. Don't tell anyone."
Poppy hummed her consent and took a sip of tea. "So... that game you play with Remus that you mentioned earlier...? Tell me more."
Minerva laughed. She didn't laugh often around students, and Poppy loved to hear it. "I wasn't very comfortable around him at first; you know that. And he knew it too. He was obviously uncomfortable around me, too—things were awkward at first. Classes consisted of avoiding eye contact, mostly. It was distracting. So I told him that we'd play a game of sorts: whichever of us can act normally around the other first wins. We've been giving each other points. I'm winning."
"Not what he told Albus."
Minerva sipped her tea. "He's deluded."
"So... any reason why you aren't comfortable around werewolves? It seems a bit odd for you of all people to be afraid..."
"Not afraid!" protested Minerva. "Just uncomfortable. As you know, I'm half-blood, and my mother—a witch—took pride in her heritage. She told me stories of the wizarding world all the time—trying to bring me back to my roots, even though we lived in a Muggle village. I heard so many tales of werewolves being a danger to society, even from an early age. They're bogeymen, Poppy. The monsters under the beds. Children grow up with an innate fear of them... They ask their parents to check their closets for them before they go to sleep. Their parents tell them that that a werewolf will eat them if they get out of bed or disobey the rules. I was so afraid of werewolves as a child that I hated going outside at night. There's a fear instilled in young children, and it takes a while to shake off. That's all. It's not that I'm afraid of him—you know me, I'm a proud Gryffindor. I just don't like... the idea of it."
"Even though he's so small and harmless?"
"Yes. I'm not proud of it." Minerva finished off her tea. "But I can stand to be around him much more easily now. I like him, you know. Quiet, calm. The exact opposite of Potter and Black."
"Do you ever shut up about them?" Poppy teased.
"I'll shut up about them when you shut up about Remus. All you ever talk about these days."
"He's the only company I have these days!"
"Except when John Questus visits..." teased Minerva. She knew all about Poppy's hatred towards John Questus—he had, in fact, been the subject of Poppy's last after-hours rant.
"Ugh! Don't even talk about him. The horrible, insensitive..."
"Yes, I know. You've ranted about him to me before. I think you fancy him, don't you?"
"Who, John?" Poppy gagged. "That's too far. I'm going to bed now."
"You accused me of liking Potter and Black. I'm only returning the favor."
"It's not the same thing! I do not fancy John Questus!"
"Sweet dreams," called Minerva. "I'll plan the wedding."
"You're such a child!" snapped Poppy, opening the door to leave. "You sound like Potter."
Minerva feigned disgust. "You'd better leave before I hex you."
Poppy obliged, shutting the door with a little more force than necessary and heading back to the Hospital Wing to check on Remus.
Minerva, she reflected, was a wonderful friend, and she was glad that Remus had a few such friends of his own.
Everybody needed friends, didn't they?
AN: Another scene from my fanfic (link in blog description). I don’t think John Questus has ever made an appearance on my tumblr before, just because he’s an OC and hard to explain in short snapshots like this—but he’s my favorite character lol and I was waiting for a good moment to mention him!
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Habanero
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You're a good girl, well behaved.
Absolutely not the type to rail random guys in nightclubs.
Until you are.
Fandom: BNHA
Pairing: Aizawa x Reader, eventual polyamorous Erasermic x Reader
Rating: Explicit. Minors BE GONE
Trigger Warnings: None in this chapter.
AO3: Here | Want to support me? I have a Kofi
Chapter: 1/16 (all chapters)
“Oh my g-“ You whined, tightening your grip on the sink. “Harder, I’m gonna…”
You caught your reflection in the bathroom mirror as you came undone; took in your smudged makeup and disheveled hair.
Pleasure rippled through you and you moaned into it, pushing yourself back onto the stranger’s dick and taking as much of him in as humanly possible. You could feel every inch of him and he groaned at the feel of you tightening around him.
“Oh f-“ You murmured, holding onto the sink and grinding yourself against your lover in time to the spasms of your body.
You were so overwhelmed by the sensation that you lost all coherency, body acting of its own accord. Your lover sucked in a single breath as he continued to fuck you and you could do little else but stare at your shoes.
You were doing this.
You were doing him . In a bathroom, no less.
How on earth had you gotten yourself into this situation?
Whenever you looked back over the course of your life, one detail stood out far more prominently than the others.
You were a good girl.
You had never broken the law, had always adhered to the proper dress code, had never had a filling or broken a bone. You could, and very often did, define yourself by the roads you had never dreamed of taking and the decisions you had never made.
Never was it more obvious than the day you suffered your first real heartbreak. 
You had followed the rules carefully; had dressed respectably for every date; had taken care to listen to your boyfriend’s every problem. You’d learned to cook his favorite meal; had faked more orgasms than you could count to feed his ego.
You were sure you would marry that man and had mentally mapped out your next five years. You would have a simple ceremony and a child one year later, then another two years after the first. You’d named them in your imagination and frequently lapsed into daydreams about your future perfect life.
On your fifth anniversary he took you to dinner and you could barely hide your excitement. You knew he had been keeping something from you and you were so sure he was going to propose. You put on your best dress and favourite heels and spent an hour on your makeup and hair. This night was going to be perfect and your stomach fluttered as he reached for your hands across the table.
“(Name),” he said, squeezing your hands in his, “I’ve been thinking about our future.”
“Me too,” you said, squeezing back, willing yourself to hold it together. You wanted this moment to be so perfect and romantic that you would repeat it over and over to your future children and grandchildren. “I’m so happy we’re on the same page.”
“It’s been on my mind for a long time,” he said, smiling softly. “I’ve enjoyed all of our time together, but I think we need to move forwards.”
All you could think about was your future children; the length of their eyelashes and warmth of their hugs. You could almost smell the flowers in your wedding bouquet.
“I just...I think we’ve had a lot of fun together,” he said, “but I’m scared that if we stay like this we’ll fall into a rut. I don’t want to be married with a bunch of kids before I’m forty.”
And just like that, your stomach fell through the floor.
“Wait, w-what are you talking about?”
You snatched your hands from his, heart racing. Was this some sort of joke? You had shopped together for a new mattress only two days before. You glanced around the restaurant, looking for cameras or any sign that this was staged. If it was a prank, it was cruel.
“(Name), it’s not that I don’t love you, it’s just that, well… you’re like...how do I put this…”
He scratched his chin, searching for the right thing to say, even as your eyes filled with tears.
“You’re vanilla,” he said, “you’re safe, and sweet… but we’re still young and I keep thinking that I might want to try habanero or cayenne.”
“You think I’m...boring?” the words left your lips as a whisper and, while his reaction was to instantly reach out to you and apologise, the damage was already done.
“I can be habanero,” you said before you realised it. “I can be whatever you want me to be.”
“I know,” he said, “and that’s the problem.”
That night you stood in your shower for almost three quarters of an hour, staring into space as the water soaked you through. 
His words circled your brain like vultures. 
Vanilla. 
He thought you were vanilla. Perhaps the worst part was that you could not disagree.
It haunted your every action for the following week. All you saw when you got ready for work was your simple wardrobe and comfortable shoes. 
You were a good girl, mild mannered and meek, and everyone seemed to have noticed before you.
Shock made way for despair. Despair turned to denial and denial quickly turned to anger. You hated your ex boyfriend almost as much as you hated yourself, scouring your apartment for everything he had ever touched.
It didn’t take long for your friends to get worried about you. Normally you were all too busy to constantly check in on the group chat you shared, but since the breakup everyone had something to say.
However kind they might have been to spare your feelings, they genuinely did seem surprised that you had broken up. You had been a couple since your college graduation and one of the only constants in the past few years as everyone’s lives took different directions. 
As was to be expected, your friends had multiple different opinions on suitable coping mechanisms. Yuiko came over with food; Hana brought wine. Sayaka called you every evening to trash talk your ex.
Then there was Rei. 
Rei was the most boisterous member of your friend group, full to the brim with the kind of self confidence that was obnoxious on other people, yet suited her perfectly. Her reaction to the breakup was not to hand you tissues. She posted exactly one message to the group chat and it had haunted you ever since.
To get over one dude… you gotta get under another ;)
You had known Rei for years and never once taken her advice, but something about that statement stuck with you. You would never have come up with such an idea on your own and it left you blushing a bright scarlet. Rebound sex was not something girls like you did, which was exactly why you had to do it.
“I’ll show you vanilla,” you muttered as you put on another layer of red lipstick and pulled your dress just a little lower to tease the lace of your bra.
You met up with your friends at Ego , a nightclub you had heard a great deal about, though never actually gone to. You had never had any reason to; you already had a long term partner and didn’t enjoy the idea of dancing in full view of strange men. 
You wondered if you’d made a mistake even as you took a seat at one of the tables. 
“Any lookers?”
You glanced around the room, trying to make out faces in the darkness.
“I…” you said. “I…”
You swallowed hard, feeling more than a little overwhelmed.
“I’ll get the next round!”
You thought that by going to fetch another round of drinks, you would be able to catch your breath and avoid drawing copious amounts of attention to yourself. You’d never spent much time at nightclubs, though, and realised your mistake once you got within twenty feet of the bar. 
Dozens of people in various states of intoxication crowded it, packed like sardines and all trying to get the attention of the bartender. You took a deep breath and took a step into the crowd, only for someone closer to the front to move and send a wave of movement through everyone else. Someone’s shoulder caught you in the chest, leaving you even further back than you had been before. 
Normally you were too polite to even contemplate shoving your way through a crowd, but tonight you weren’t yourself. You took a deep breath and put your weight into your shoulders, pushing against the others as forcefully as you could without actually hurting anyone.
At first you seemed to be making progress, though you soon regretted your decisions. As you got within a few paces of the bar, a guy in front of you slipped, the numerous drinks in his hands heading for your face.
Before they could make contact, however, someone reached for your wrist and yanked you towards the bar,  out of the line of fire. The drinks hit other partygoers and they cried out in shock; the glasses shattered as they hit the floor. You, however, remained untouched.
“Th-thank you,” you stammered, turning to your saviour. 
He was tall and lanky, with black hair tied back from his face in a ponytail. He wore a black shirt, black pants, black shoes- a complete contrast to the Blue Hawaiian in his hand.
“Don’t mention it,” he said, looking away from you and taking an indifferent sip of his drink.
The bartender was in the middle of clearing the shattered glass from the floor and so you waited in an awkward sort of silence, finally turning back to the man who had saved you.
“You look as happy to be here as I am,” you said. He looked the type to sit in shady bars with three fingers of whisky, not dance with inebriated strangers, which Ego was better known for.
“Wasn’t my decision,” he said. “Someone’s gotta babysit.”
He pointed towards the dancefloor, where a small group of people danced along to the beat. You couldn’t make out most of their faces, except for one, and you were sure your eyes were deceiving you.
“Is that...Present Mic?”
The stranger followed your gaze, to the man with more than a passing resemblance, who was currently wiggling his hips in time to the beat.
“Him? Nah. I don’t know him.”
“But he’s waving to you,” you said, as the man who looked like Present Mic waved his arms over his head and shouted something in your general direction. You couldn’t hear him over the music and the stranger next to you pointedly turned in the opposite direction, taking a long sip of his drink.
You had been so nervous about approaching strangers. Rei had made it seem so easy- merging into a group and catching someone’s eye. You had always had a boyfriend and never possessed the easy confidence of your friends. It was strangely reassuring that speaking to this man came almost naturally.
“My name’s (Name),” you said. “Listen, you really saved me there...this dress is hand wash only.”
“Shouta,” said the stranger. “My name is Shouta.”
“C-can I get you a drink or something? I really owe you one.”
You realised after saying it that he wasn’t even halfway through the drink in his hand.
“You don’t owe me anything,” he said. “It wasn’t anything special.”
He picked the pineapple from his drink and chewed at it thoughtfully.
“Listen,” he said, “I don’t like playing games. What is it you want?”
You were tongue tied, mortified at being caught out so quickly. You fought to keep your composure.
Under ordinary circumstances, you would have stammered some sort of apology or explanation, but tonight you weren’t you and there was no point in denying that you had an ulterior motive.
“Fine,” you said, gathering your nerves. “Do you want to go somewhere more...private?”
You cringed the moment it left your lips, suddenly all too aware of how forward you were being. You couldn’t believe you’d all but thrown yourself at the first guy you saw. What was wrong with you?
He climbed down off the stool he had been sitting on, taking one final sip of his drink.
“Let’s go.”
And so it was that you wound up in the nightclub washroom, back against the door and Shouta’s lips on yours.
You had half-heartedly discussed with your friends what to do on the off chance you found someone. You were to post to the group chat with a photograph of you and whoever you left with. You hadn’t expected to leave with anyone, much less decided on where you would go if you did.
You would never have guessed that you would wind up in a washroom, with the door sealed shut behind you. Shouta crushed his lips against yours, one hand pressed against the door, the other on your waist.
Your heart raced, heat rushing through you and pooling in your core.
“Say,” said Shouta, lowering his hand and running a thumb over your lips, “you sure you want this? Right here, right now?”
You moved before you realised what you were doing, opening your mouth and running your tongue over his thumb, looking him dead in the eyes as you wrapped your lips around it.
He hadn’t expected it, but seemed to approve, for he smiled, pulling away and dragging you into another crushing kiss. One hand he positioned above your head; the other grabbed at your clothes, pulling down your dress to expose your bra before heading south.
He lifted your skirt, slipping his fingers into your underwear. You gasped as you felt his hand against your folds, planting your own hand against the door to brace yourself. He caught your eye, tracing a finger around your clit before slowly sinking it deep into you. You reached for his shoulders, hooking one leg around his waist and pushing your lips against his. You pulled him tighter and tighter as he pushed his finger in and out of you, dragging at his shirt and belt. 
He squeezed in a second finger and you bucked your hips into his touches.
As if in response, he pulled his fingers out of you and ran them over your clit- the warmth and wetness sending pleasurable shivers down your spine. You had never felt this way before; this man was as good as a stranger, yet you wanted him so very badly. You had never felt this kind of desire before, never known how it felt to have such a growing pressure inside of you. 
“Please,” you moaned into his mouth, not knowing exactly what you were begging him for. “Please—-"
“Come here,” Shouta growled, pulling you towards him and then across to the sink. You caught a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror, unkempt and wide eyed- a complete transformation from when you stepped out of the house.
You watched through the mirror as Shouta unfastened his belt and fly, lowering his pants low enough to give you a clear view of his hardened dick. He was far more muscular than his skinny physique let on, with a deep scar beneath his belly button. 
You were trembling from need, squeezing your legs together to try and fill the void his fingers had left. He smirked and walked towards you, taking hold of your hips and slowly, almost torturously slowly, pushing himself into you. 
He was bigger than you expected and you gasped at the feel of yourself stretching to accommodate him. He stopped in place, waiting for you to push back against him before pushing in further. At first his pace was slow, inching in only a little at a time, teasing an increasingly sensitive spot deep inside of you. 
“Faster,” you whined, digging your nails into your palms at the pressure inside of you. It was overwhelming your every sense, a coil winding tighter and tighter with every touch. “Please...please…”
He slapped your ass and drove in deeper.
This new pace was faster, his hips slamming into yours with such force that it sent you barreling forwards across the sink. You clung on for dear life, taking in the wet sounds as your bodies clashed; Shouta’s groans of pleasure and exertion.
“Oh my g-“ You whined, tightening your grip on the sink. “Harder, I’m gonna…”
You caught your reflection in the bathroom mirror as you came undone; took in your smudged makeup and disheveled hair.
Pleasure rippled through you and you moaned into it, pushing yourself back onto Shouta’s dick and taking as much of him in as humanly possible. You could feel every inch of him and he groaned at the feel of you tightening around him.
“Oh f-“ You murmured, holding onto the sink and grinding yourself against him in time to the spasms of your body.
You were so overwhelmed by the sensation that you lost all coherency, body acting of its own accord. He sucked in a single breath as he continued to fuck you and you could do little else but stare at your shoes.
You were doing this.
You were doing him . In a bathroom, no less.
He gathered your hair with one hand and pulled backwards, arching your back as he fucked you even harder. He was getting close and you could tell; his thrusts were getting erratic and the hand that squeezed your hip was so tight that it left bruises later.
“(Name),” he said, raspiness of his voice betraying his desperation, “where would you like me to...cum”
He groaned and you blushed a bright red.
“In...inside me,” you murmured, the depravity of it all too clear. This was a man you didn’t know; you were risking pregnancy and worse.
In that moment, though, it only added to the appeal.
Shouta pulled you even closer, slowing right down to an almost painfully slow rhythm. He held you in place as he came and gasped for air; the heat of his breath leaving goosebumps against your skin.
You could feel him twitching inside of you, his warmth dripping from you as he pulled out. 
You took a deep breath and stood up straight, Shouta letting go of you to pull up his pants. He rinsed his hands under the tap and splashed cold water on his face before grabbing a pile of paper towels.
“I’ll guard the door,” he said, motioning towards the same door he had pinned you against only a short time ago. “Knock when you’re ready.”
“Oh,” you said, watching him leave, “okay.”
For the first time all night, you were alone, the nightclub music in the background your only clue to your surroundings.
You walked towards the sink and took in your bedraggled appearance-bra on full display and cum on your thighs.
You couldn’t believe you were thinking it, but Rei was right. For the first time in weeks you weren’t thinking about the ex. For the first time in years you weren’t thinking about anything.
Habanero, you thought as you switched on the tap. 
This was how it felt to be habanero.
6 Months Later
You were still a good girl. 
That said, you no longer followed the safe roads. Not so long ago, you believed that your breakup was the end of everything, but it had actually been a new beginning.
Two months after the night at Ego , you cut your hair and quit your job. You had been there since graduation and your colleagues were more than a little desperate for you to stay. You had taken on the workload of about seven of eight people while earning only a pittance for a salary.
You had a new job now; something fresh and exciting and challenging to boot. It made you nervous, but that feeling only spurred you on.
You’d never been to UA before and it was much bigger in person. You could already tell you were going to get lost and found yourself grateful that the Principal had taken it upon himself to show you around.
“These are the first year homerooms,” he said, pointing out the doors on your left and right. “1-A and 1-B. I hope you pardon my presumptuousness, but I thought it might be useful to have you shadow one of our homeroom teachers for a couple of hours...get a feel for our curriculum and the kinds of students you’ll be working with.”
“That would be wonderful,” you said, eager to take notes.
“Wait here,” said Principal Nezu, “I’ll be right back.”
He knocked on one of the doors and stepped inside, presumably to fetch the teacher.
When he returned, it took everything in your power to stop your jaw from hitting the floor.
It was him, and he was just as shocked to see you.
“Professor Aizawa,” said Principal Nezu, “this is (Name), our new guidance counsellor.”
He glanced from you to Shouta, taking in your identical expressions.
“Oh… do you know one another?”
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