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m4iya · 7 months ago

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Newspaper Club Reader interviewing the Karasuno Team after the Miyagi Spring High Preliminaries

Yamaguchi Tadashi (Daichi Sawamura, Sugawara Koushi, Ennoshita Chikara, Hinata Shoyo, Kageyama Tobio)

Twirling your pen around your finger, you were absolutely stumped for ideas.

What am I supposed to report about?

You, a first year, who just joined the Newspaper Club out of your enjoyment for writing, were now being flooded with an overwhelming amount of responsibilities. Why weren’t the third years doing any of this..?

“You can get all the juicy details from them! After all, you’re in the same grade as the first years, and they’re all the rave right now!” One of your upperclassmen said whilst encouragingly patting you on the back, flashing you a grin alongside a thumbs up.

So here you were now, racking your brain during your limited lunch time to think up questions that you can ask them.

What am I supposed to interview them about? I don’t even play volleyball!

Not to mention, you still had to ask the school for permission to impede on their practice time to even ask them anything? And who said the team would even agree?!

You happened to be familiar with some of the members, because as your club president had said, they’re in your grade. So, you sometimes pass by them in the hallways, and other times-

“SOMEONE HELP ME!!” The supposed ‘top class’ volleyball decoy’s voice screeched throughout the hallway.

“GET BACK HERE YOU IDIOT!” The infamous first-year setter’s voice echoed close behind.

Yeah, that.

And that was the extent of your familiarity with them. Just hearing their voices rage so loudly in the hallway.. how would you even interview people who were so.. hard to cope with?

An idea suddenly popped into your head, and your eyes widened with excitement.

Yeah, she’d know what to do!

Grabbing your notebook and pen, you dash outside of your own class, towards Class 1-5. Standing at the door, out of breath, your eyes dart across the room.

“Yachi! Hey!” You say, excitedly pacing towards her, placing your belongings down on her desk.

“Hi y/n!” She happily responds, glancing down at your book and pen. “Club work?”

“Yeah.. I have to interview the boys’ volleyball team, and I was hoping you’d be able to give me some ideas”. A sigh accompanied your words as you spoke.

“Sure! In terms of being able to give a comprehensive response to a question, there’s some people you’re gonna want to ask the most so you can get really detailed answers..” She continued, explaining who would be able to give you newspaper-esque responses, who, and what to centre your questions around.

The two of you brainstormed a bunch of questions based off their most recent feats, training regimes, habits and general information such as height, jumping height and spike speed.

Yachi also described specific members to you, showing you photos to help you get familiar with them before actually meeting them. it’d be pretty awkward if you repeatedly mistook them for other people.

Next up on your list was to get permission from the school. Yachi told you not to worry, saying they probably wouldn’t have a problem with it.

You managed to get all those things done within lunchtime, with the school actually agreeing to allow you. The team would be notified by their manager, and you’d be able to conduct the interview(s) at the end of the day.

You spent the last few classes before the end bell rang, and a little after that, refining your questions, and pinpointing people for each, making sure to ask specific players questions where you knew they’d be able to give you the most detailed answers. Following the directions to the volleyball gym that you’d received from Yachi, you nervously rehearsed how you’d conduct the interview in your head.

‘It’s okay! Yachi will be there! She’ll be my emotional support!’

You found yourself in-front of the gym, with one of its doors already open wide. Stepping in you made sure to put on a confident display so as to seem semi-professional – as though you knew what you were doing.

The coach, who you were told would introduce the team to you, was standing inside near the entrance.

“Hey, you’re here for the interview, right?”

“Y-Yes! I am!” You nervously replied.

He clapped his hands together, catching the attention of the team, whose eyes darted towards you.

‘Oh no.. They’re all staring at me..!’

“Daichi probably already told you all, but for a little while today, y/n here is going to be watching you all practice and interview some of you for the school newspaper”. Some of them shout in glee, others wear a slightly nervous or excited smile.

You see Yachi standing to the side, smiling and giving you a thumbs up. In order to distract yourself, you look down at the notes you took with her, and recall her words;

“You’re going to want to target the boys who’d probably give actual responses to interview questions. That’d probably be.. Daichi, Sugawara, Ennoshita, and Yamaguchi”.

“So, is there anything you specifically wanted to start with, y/n?” Coach Ukai asked, turning to you.

“Well, for most of it, I’d ask for..”

You called out the first four names you had written down. They came forward, and the rest were dismissed to continue practice until you were finished. You overheard the orange haired boy and his energetic upperclassmen sounding disgruntled about ‘not being acknowledged’. You were also pretty sure you felt the intimidating stare of the intense-looking setter on your back as you turned to face the other boys..

‘Yikes..’ you shuddered

Turning to the boys who’ll be in the main part of the interview, you began speaking. “I’m probably going to be asking at most 2 questions each. So, when you’re finished responding, you can go back to practice if you want”. You said with a smile. The boys nodded in response.

You set up your handheld recorder alongside a pen and paper.

“Oh, and don’t worry about giving super long answers, short ones shouldn’t be too much of an issue” You added. Yamaguchi and Ennoshita seemed to let out a sigh of relief.

You began asking them questions, starting with Daichi.

“What do you find to be the hardest to do as a team captain?”.

He thought for a second, tapping his chin, then proceeded to answer.

“It might be the pressure I feel to make sure everyone is on their a-game during matches, while also keeping my nerves in check..” He replied, choosing his words carefully; knowing the whole school might read what he’s saying.

He continued about his role during the actual matches, and you noted down that he seems to be a center point of the team, holding things together like glue.

Sugawara was next. You turned to him, meeting his gaze with a smile.

Clearing your throat, you continued with your questions. “Don’t let this get to you, but my upper-classmen wanted to see if I could get ‘juicy’ information”. You cautioned, scared to overstep your boundaries. Sugawara laughed at your warning. “It’s fine, I don’t think I’ll be offended by an interview”.

‘Okay, here goes..’

“Do you feel inferior to..” You squinted, reading the name, making sure to pronounce it properly, “Kageyama Tobio, the first-year setter who dramatically took your regular spot on the team?”

“Nope!” He immediately responded, leaving you surprised.

“Instead of feeling defeated or inferior, I see it as an opportunity to learn about setting from someone who’s more talented at setting than I am. And it’s not like I don’t play at all” He added. “Besides, it’s my final year anyways, I’ve had my time as a regular on the team”. You couldn’t say that didn’t surprise you.

Looking over your shoulder, you see a catch a glimpse of a eyed Daichi.

“Suga…!” He sniffles dramatically.

Sugawara puffs out his chest jokingly, “That’s me, teaching my junior the principles of setting!”

The five of you laugh at the exchange, with you writing down the key points, making a note to come back to the recording later when typing up the actual article.

Glancing over at Yamaguchi who was going to be up next, he looked nervous, as though he was trying to avoid your gaze. So, you decided to let Ennoshita go first instead.

“Ennoshita, I’ve heard rumours of you being the next captain after Daichi graduates. How does that make you feel?”

“Well, for starters, a captain should have the confidence to pump up his teammates.. and I don’t think I’m currently at that level.” Ennoshita nervously laughs, looking over at Daichi who shoots him a confident smile.

“There’s also other second years on the team, so I’m not sure who spread this rumour, but.. I don’t think I could do a captain’s job” He states with a ‘matter of fact’ tone.

Glancing towards Sugawara and Daichi, they adorn dramatically worried expressions.

“Tanaka as captain.. or even Nishinoya…” Daichi’s voice trails off.

“Scary.. I won’t be here to see it, and Noya can’t be a captain since he’s the Libero.. but just the thought of it makes me shudder..” Daichi and Sugawara comically shiver.

You note down the unspoken preference towards Ennoshita being captain over the other second-years that seem way more outspoken.

You look down at your notebook, highlighting the questions you were planning to ask Yamaguchi, when he walks towards you as the others were distracted in their own conversation.

“Hey, um.. are you sure you need me to answer anything? I don’t think I’d have anything interesting to contribute..” He softly questioned, leaning down to whisper so as not to gain the attention of the other guys. He seemed overly nervous for some reason.

For a moment, you didn’t focus on his words, as you felt like you’d seen him somewhere before.

“Ah! You’re Yamaguchi from Class 1-4!” You exclaimed.

“Huh..? Y-yeah, I am..”

“We’re in the same class!”

“Yeah, we a- wait we are?”

You felt relieved now that somebody you were at least slightly familiar with was with you while you conducted your interviews. Sure, Yachi was here, but she still had her assistant work to attend to, alongside learning from Kiyoko, the original manager.

You exhaled a sigh of relief, feeling slightly less intimidated. Sure, you’ve never spoken to him outside of today, and he probably doesn’t even recognise you from class, but it brought you a little bit more confidence. Knowing someone in your class just so happened to be on the volleyball team, made it feel less like they were bigshot professionals, and more-so like the high school students that they are.

“Okay Yamaguchi! Let’s get started”.

He nodded in response, still feeling surprised that a girl knew his name, let alone recognised him. The tips of his ears warmed up.

You tapped your pen on the side of your notebook. “Yamaguchi, during Karasuno’s match against Sejoh, You scored a ‘Service Ace’ using your ‘Jump Float Serve’. How did that make you, a pinch server, feel?” You questioned, straightening the pen in your hand preparing to write down notes.

“Well.. I was really nervous that I wouldn’t be able to make it, given how I’ve only learnt how to do a serve like that recently.” He explained “But even though it barely hit the line, I felt like I finally had something to fight with on my own”. Yamaguchi wore a nervous smile as he continued.

“I might have some height, but before learning how to Jump Float Serve, I wasn’t able to do much other than stand on the court with my feet glued in place when I was subbed in. And the one time that happened, I was called to the bench immediately after..” Fiddling with his hands, he tried explaining what he meant. “It’s like..” He took a deep breath, thinking of an analogy. “..When you’re called on to answer a question in class, but you’re too nervous to do it, even though you know exactly how. You feel stumped standing in front of the board, with the whole class staring at you.. so the teacher calls on somebody else to answer it. But when you sit back down in your seat, you’re relieved that you didn’t embarrass yourself, but disappointed that you didn’t do something you know how to”.

Wow, I didn’t expect him to give such a detailed response.

“I-I didn’t mean to say too much!” He says, worried that you’d gotten bored of his mini speech.

Looking down at your book, you continue writing, making sure you get down all the notes that came to you as he spoke so as to not forget them later.

“It’s fine! Your point against Sejoh is one of the things that I wanted to know the most about! Based off what I’ve learnt about volleyball so far, a service ace seems pretty hard to score, especially against that team” You reassured him with a smile.

“Next question! What’s it like watching the team play from the sidelines? Do you ever feel like they had a play where you would’ve been able to do something more?”.

He hesitates, careful not to sound conceited.

“I wouldn’t say that I’d be able to do better.. That’s probably why I’m not a regular” He chuckles, running his fingers through his hair.“Though, if I did see something, I’d probably ask them about it later. I usually use the time I’m on the side to observe and see if there’s anything I can incorporate into my own practice..”

“Okay..” You said, wrapping up your final notes from his answer.

“Now, a few more questions! I’m going to write individual sections about a few of you in the article, you included. Do you mind that?”

“A section about me?” He replied, cheeks flushing a hue of pink.

“Yeah!” Flipping the pages of your notebook, you arrive at a part you sectioned out for personal information.

“I’m going to need your height, jumping height, spiking height, serve speed..” Your voice seemed to trail off in his head as he felt his heart beating faster by the second.

Meeting your eyes, he could see the excitement bubbling up within you. You didn’t seem too into it at the beginning, so why was it that you suddenly seemed.. brighter to him..?

He told you the things that he’d already known, such as his height. For the rest of the information, the two of you measured and recorded them together in the court. Once the two of you were done, you needed to record some information about their practice routines and the like. Having become somewhat acquainted with Yamaguchi at this point, he helped you interview the rest of the boys who you felt a little embarrassed to approach on your own.

First, you interviewed the ‘famous’ first year duo, Hinata and Kageyama about what they do to sync with each other during a match. You felt some tension between them, though you chalked it up to being a friendly rivalry.

You ended up getting information on Kageyama’s training routine, alongside recording Hinata’s spiking height, which you planned to compare to his regular height.

This’ll definitely catch the eyes of onlookers! I mean, someone so short spiking so high..!

Yamaguchi laughed at the grin you wore while writing down Hinata’s information. He turns to Hinata, jokingly smiling.

“Your name’s gonna be all over the school, Hinata..!” He said, egging him on.

“I know!!”

“It’s just the school newspaper.” Kageyama irritably added.

The two shot him a glare.

Once you finished compiling Hinata and Kageyama’s information, they returned to their training where the rest of their teammates were refining their serves. You said goodbye to the coach and prepared to leave the gymnasium.

Though, Yamaguchi didn’t return to practice with the rest of his teammates. “Did you have anything else you wanted to add?” You said, turning to him with a smile on your face as you adjusted the strap of your bag.

It seems you caught him off guard.

“N-No! I’m good!” He stuttered.

He cleared his throat before continuing “Um.. Thanks for.. You know, interviewing me..”

Now that caught you off guard.

“Oh..! I-Its nothing! Just doing my work as a member of the Newspaper Club!” A nervous chuckle left you alongside your reply.

The two of you stood in silence for a few seconds, you, feeling a little awkward, searching for something to say.

Suddenly, his soft voice broke the stillness. “Um..! Is there any way I could, uh..” He shuffled around, sticking his hand in his pocket to take something out.

You turned your head in confusion. Suddenly, your cheeks flushed red as he held out his phone in front of him, looking down at his feet timidly.

Taking the phone from his hand, you typed in your number with trembling fingers, and set the contact number as ‘Newspaper Girl’. You look back at him with a nervous smile while he took the phone back with wide eyes.

“I’ll see you in class tomorrow?” You questioned.

His eyes met yours once again. This time, he wore a bright smile.

“Sure..!”

other works

#anime #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #fluff #haikyu fluff #haikyu x reader #yamaguchi tadashi #karasuno first years #karasuno #yachi hitoka #kiyoko shimizu #hinata shoyo #kageyama tobio #ennoshita chikara #daichi sawamura #sugawara #kageyama #sawamura daichi #sugawara koushi

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lovelybucky1 · 3 years ago

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Sucker for Pain (Matt Murdock/Reader)

summary: your boyfriend teaches you how to fight, but he underestimated your skills

warnings: mild violence, mild blood, sexual tension, implied sex, mentions of semi-public sex, 18+ minors dni

masterlist

Every time your boyfriend went to the gym, he would try to convince you to come, but you never did. You always came up with some excuse not to go because honestly, as much as you love him, a smelly, sweaty gym is the last place you’d rather be.

Despite that, Matt managed to beg and plead enough, so here you are wearing an old t-shirt and running shorts. You were content doing yoga by yourself in the corner, but as the crowd in the gym thinned out, Matt encouraged you to join him in the ring.

Once you were the last two people in the gym, you relented and allowed him to wrap your hands. The two of you got into the ring, and he started his first lesson.

“When you make a fist, you want to keep your thumb across your knuckles, not under your fingers,” he instructs, demonstrating by holding his own hand out.

“Why can’t it be underneath?”

“Well, it can if you want to break your hand,” he jokes.

He touches your fist and feels it to make sure you have the proper form, and when he deems it correct, he gives you a first bump that makes you laugh.

“Now, to throw a punch you need to square your feet because that’s where the power comes from.” You place your feet a shoulder’s width apart with one foot slightly forward to mirror his stance. “And then when you punch, you’re gonna twist so you really get the power behind it.” He demonstrates slowly, then tells you to stand back so he can do a full punch without hitting you.

He then tells you to practice a few times, and once you’re ready, he tells you to test it out.

“What do you mean?”

“Come on, throw a punch,” he laughs as he gets into a ready position.

“I don’t want to punch you!”

“You might be overestimating your abilities, sweetheart, this is only your first lesson,” he teases.

“I’m serious, Matt,” you say, rolling your eyes.

“Don’t worry, even if you do hit me, I can take it. I’m a big boy,” he smirks.

You huff as you get into a ready position of your own. You take a deep breath, then throw a punch which he easily dodges.

“That’s good! Do it again,” he praises.

You punch at him again, then you come in with your other arm for a second one. He ducks out of the way and he looks surprised at your move.

“I was only teasing before, baby, don’t take it out on me.” His forehead has a thin sheen of sweat on it and his eyes are sparkling in the dim gym lighting. Seeing him like this makes you regret not joining him sooner, and you think this may become part of your regular routine. “Keep it going. I’m gonna block them this time.”

Feeling bolder now, you let your fists fly faster and with more power. He dodges a few before catching your left fist. Apparently he thought you would stop after that, and didn’t expect your right fist to hit him in the chin.

He stumbles back a bit and shakes his head to get rid of the shock from the blow. After a few seconds, he smiles wide but winces when he realizes his lip is split.

“Guess I didn’t see that one coming,” he jokes as he reaches up to wipe the blood from his lip. You release your hand from his hold and step closer to examine the cut.

“I told you that was a bad idea,” you huff as you check his face.

“Don’t worry, it didn’t hurt that bad,” he says, stopping you by putting his arms around your waist. “You have potential.” You roll your eyes again, and he is able to tell by the sigh you give. His smile grows wider. “Honestly, it was kinda hot.”

You raise your eyebrow at him. “Hot? You mean you liked getting punched in the face?”

He gives a half-hearted shrug. “When you’re the one punching me.”

“Ugh,” you groan, but there’s no heat behind it. “You’re disgusting.”

“I’m disgusting? You’re the one who punched a blind man in the face,” he teases.

“And I’ll do it again if you don’t keep it in your pants.”

He puts his fingers underneath your chin and tilts your face up so your lips are a breath apart.

“We’re the only ones in here, we won’t get caught.”

“I’m not having sex with you in the gym, Matt.”

“Could you at least kiss me?”

#matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock smut #daredevil #daredevil x female reader #daredevil x reader #daredevil smut #charlie cox #matthew murdock

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scuttling · 4 years ago

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Lavender

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 9,244 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Dad's Best Friend Friend From Work Hotch, Me turning a naughty, smutty story into something way more aka my specialty, Fingering, Unprotected sex, Oral sex, Semi-public sex, Office sex Summary: You absolutely dread going home for vacation, to your sickeningly cheery childhood bedroom and opinionated parents, but meeting your dad's friend from work at a stuffy cocktail party has the potential to make this a vacation you'll never forget.*Requested by anon, severely altered by me 😅 Link to A03 or read below! Most people would jump at the chance for an unexpected two week vacation, but you are not most people. When your boss emailed you to inform you that there had been some kind of glitch in HR’s system and you actually had two weeks of paid vacation that were set to expire, your anxiety had kicked into high gear. There isn’t enough time to coordinate travel with any of your friends, too short notice, and you’re kind of afraid to travel alone, though you’d never admit it, so that’s out.

There’s always the prospect of hanging out at home, catching up on all the shows you started but never had time to finish, doing things you’re always too busy for, like cooking and cleaning out your closet and going to the animal shelter to pet the dogs and cats.

Unfortunately, those dreams are crushed when you accidentally let slip during a call to your parents that you have the time off, and they literally insist you come home, will not let you get off the phone without confirming your plans.

You only live about an hour away from them, but for one reason or another, you rarely visit.

The minute you step into your childhood home, you’re reminded of why you rarely visit.

“There’s my little do-gooder!” Your dad is all but waiting at the door when you arrive, pulls you into a hug despite the fact that your hands are full of luggage. “Let me look at you.” He pulls back, hands on your shoulders, acting like it's possible something has changed about you since you had lunch together a month ago in DC. “Oh, you’ve got that serious lawyer hairstyle now,” he remarks with a chuckle, even though your hair is styled the same way it was at that lunch. He might not mean it to come out this way, but it sounds condescending.

“That would be appropriate, considering I am a lawyer,” you remark, trying to keep the snark out of your tone. You know he always means well. “You look good.” He takes his hands off of you and puts them on his stomach.

“Your mom has me on some kind of greens and beans diet, says it will help me live longer.” You smile, a little awkward, not sure what to say about that—your dad is typically the meat and potatoes type, so you figure some variety can’t hurt, but if you say that you’ll never hear the end of it, and you’ve already got a headache.

“Where is mom, anyway?” You shift your bag on your shoulder, and your dad clues in, takes it from you and starts walking up the staircase.

“Oh, she’s at the gym, then taking care of some last minute things for the party.” You pause at the base of the stairs, sigh softly.

“Party?” You weren’t told about any party. Your dad keeps walking, and you’re forced to follow.

“Yeah, nothing major, just some people from the office and their spouses coming over for drinks tonight. Maybe some of their kids,” he adds innocently, and you can’t help rolling your eyes.

By kids, he means sons: eligible sons to try to set you up with. You wouldn’t mind being in a room full of hot, single men vying for your attention any other time—in fact, it’s been a little while, and your most recent hookup was lackluster, so you’re a bit more tightly wound than usual—but the kinds of men your parents bring around aren’t your type at all. You’re career driven yourself, but all they want to talk about is how they plan to be the youngest partner at their firm, or the clubs they can get into, or worst of all, money. Your potentially somewhat relaxing vacation just went to shit in no time at all.

“I didn’t bring anything to wear to a cocktail party.”

“I think mom got you a dress, honey. Check your closet after you get unpacked.” He pushes the door to your former bedroom open, and you’re assaulted by the color lavender; somehow you’d actually forgotten how purple it is. “You’ll look beautiful no matter what you wear.” He sets your bag on the bed—oh god, the frilly purple comforter, you may have actually repressed that memory—and you drop your other luggage there too. “I’ll give you some time to get settled in, maybe order some lunch for us? Vesuvios?”

As irritated as you are about the party, it’s sweet that he remembers your favorite restaurant. You went there for dinner after you graduated from high school, college, and law school, so there are lots of great memories associated with the place.

“Do they adhere to the greens and beans diet?” you ask with a grin, and he puts his finger up to his lips to silence you.

“What mom doesn’t know won’t hurt her, right?” You shake your head fondly, and he slips out of your room and leaves you to it.

You start unloading your clothes into the empty dresser, hanging them in the closet that holds things like your prom dresses, graduation gowns, old cheerleading and volleyball uniforms. Every touch of silky fabric is a memory, and at this point in your life most of them are good, even if they weren’t at the time. It’s kind of nice to remember where you came from, when where you are now can be so hectic, so fast-paced you don’t see the forest for the trees.

Feeling nostalgic, you walk over to your desk, where you spent so much time with your face crammed into textbooks it’s not even funny, and flip through your old stationary set—what teenager had her own stationery? You were a total nerd—and photos you’d taken off the mirror but left sitting in a pile to be packed away eventually.

You snap out of the past after that, finish putting your toiletries away, setting up your laptop and chargers where you want them, then shove your empty suitcases in the closet and grab your phone to head downstairs.

You meet up with your dad in the kitchen, where he is opening steaming takeout containers full of Italian food. You grab some plates from the overhead cabinet and lean against the counter, look over the offerings to decide what you’ll have.

“So how are things at the ACLU?” he asks with a bit of a teasing tone. You’re well aware of the fact that he thinks you could be doing more—translation: making more—in private practice, or working for the government like he does, but neither of those things interest you and he is well aware of that.

“They’re really good, actually. We’re working on a disability rights case now that will probably make national news if we win.” It’s been forever since you had penne arrabbiata, since it’s not very easy to eat at your desk without running the risk of staining your blouse with spicy red sauce, so you load up your plate with it, add wilted spinach for color, a piece of garlic bread because it’s garlic bread. You lick your thumb, and your dad points a finger in your direction in that way that means he’s about to give you life advice.

“When you win; if you’re not confident about your capabilities, no one else will be.” You roll your eyes good-naturedly, nod, because that’s a pro tip you’ve heard time and time again. “If you came to work at the bureau, you’d win more of your cases; Constitutional law isn’t easy.” He says that like you don’t already know, like you haven’t been working in your current department for more than a year. You sigh.

“I’m not really the bureau type, dad.” You take your plate over to the breakfast table, sit down and start to pick at your food. Arguing about your chosen career path is enough to make you lose your appetite, even for your favorite dish. Your dad follows, sits across from you.

“You’re so smart, honey, you could be if you wanted to.” He takes a bite of fettuccine alfredo, points his fork at you. “Hey, maybe you could talk to Jim from the Office of General Counsel tonight—or maybe Aaron. You’d be really interested in the work his team does.”

“Who’s Aaron again?” You don’t recognize the name, so he’s probably not one of the attorneys on your dad’s team, but he works closely with so many departments you might have heard it before and missed it.

“Friend from work. He’s the unit chief at the Behavioral Analysis Unit. They’re criminal psychologists or something. Profilers,” he says, snapping his fingers. “That’s what they call them. They get into criminals’ heads, analyze them and interrogate them. I know you minored in psychology, I bet he could get you an internship.” You laugh at that, because he always gives you advice about furthering your career, but that’s a step backward for you and he can't be so dense not to realize it.

“An internship? I’m a little old for that, don't you think? Not to mention I have a job that I love.” You stab at your food, more than a little agitated by the current conversation.

“Never too late to get your foot in the door, sweetie. It’d be great to see you more, that’s all I’m saying,” he adds, ending on a gentler note, and you sigh. Your mom does it too, but your dad is an expert into guilting you into doing what he thinks is best. Unfortunately, you’ve never handled guilt very well.

“Okay. I’ll talk to him, if it means that much to you,” you promise, and you both smile and make easy small talk for the rest of the meal. The dress your mom bought for you for the party is a black, sleeveless, designer cocktail dress, something more form fitting than you would normally wear—she is evidently trying very hard to find you an eligible bachelor tonight. You pair it with your favorite jewelry, simple heels, and when you head downstairs your mom acts like it’s prom night all over again.

“Oh sweetie, you look so beautiful!” She puts her hands on your arms, spins you around. “You’re looking too thin—must be eating a lot of salads on that paralegal salary,” she throws over her shoulder to your dad, and they both laugh. You wish life were a documentary so there was a camera you could look into with an unimpressed expression.

“I’m a staff attorney actually. Fully accredited,” you add, but it’s no use. If you don’t follow in your dad’s footsteps, you will always be seen as living beneath your potential, and therefore always the butt of these types of jokes.

You love them, really, and you know they love you, but they are not the most supportive pair by a long shot. They made sure you got into a great college, let you follow your law school dreams—and you’re grateful, won’t deny their money is a privilege so many other people in your position do not possess—but that was only because those were their dreams as well. As soon as you told them about taking the position at the ACLU, it was like the tables were turned, and instead of your accomplishments, all they saw was wasted potential.

It’s enough to keep you away most of the time, which sucks, but it is what it is. It’s easier to love them from afar, so that’s what you do.

At the party, you shake hands, talk about the weather, introduce yourself to so many middle aged white guys and their sons that their faces all start to blur together. After half an hour you excuse yourself, head to the bar for a drink, and come to stand next to a middle aged white guy you have not introduced yourself to—this one, you’d have remembered, because he is tall, broad, serious looking, and very handsome.

If you were a dog, he’d have your ears perking up, no doubt about that. Instead, your heart just races a little.

“I have to say, these FBI parties are even less fun than I thought they’d be,” you comment as you wait for your drink. The man lifts the corner of his mouth in a slight smile.

“Get a bunch of men who are past their prime in one room, and all you hear about are the glory days. Can’t get a word in edgewise.” The bartender hands you your glass, and you turn to fully face the stranger.

“Why aren’t you talking about your glory days?” You immediately kind of want to slap yourself. Your social skills have been exhausted tonight, apparently. “I’m sorry, that was rude; I didn’t mean to insinuate that you’re… past your prime.” You give him a brief once over, because he deserves it, is even more gorgeous up close than you’d initially assessed; he chuckles softly, sips on his own drink.

“It wasn’t rude, it was… shrewd.” His own gaze lingers on your face, maybe the neckline of your dress, just a little. “Your father’s really happy you’re here, wouldn’t stop talking about it.”

“Yeah, he's one of the most ambitious people I know; he gets an idea in his head and won’t rest until he’s seen it through.” It’s a quality that sounds good on paper, but when it’s constantly being applied to your life, it’s more tiring than anything. “Right now he’s trying to get me to bully one of these poor guys into giving me an internship, as if I’m not twenty-nine years old with a career of my own.” He wets his lips, laughs again.

“I think I’m the poor guy—Aaron Hotchner. I’m the unit chief overseeing the BAU.” Wow, 0 for 2. This guy’s got to think you’re a complete idiot. He extends a hand and you shake it firmly, melt a little because his palm is so broad, his fingers so thick.

“Right, I’m so sorry. Feel free to tell me right now that I’m not the right fit, and I’ll slink off and hide in a corner somewhere for the rest of the night.”

“No need for that. You strike me as someone who would be a great fit for my team, if that was something you actually wanted.”

You aren’t looking for a career change in the slightest, but you can’t deny it would be tempting to report to this man every day.

“It’s not that I’m not curious about what you do; my dad told me a little, and it sounds really intriguing. I just have a lot on my plate right now. If the offer had come up before I started my current job, I would be all over it.” You smile, shrug. “Unless you could have me intern for the next two weeks I’ll be on vacation, I’ll have to politely decline the offer you haven't actually made me.” You smile, and so does he.

“Now who’s ambitious?” he asks with a raised eyebrow; the way he says it, like he finds it charming, makes your face heat a little. You’ve never connected like this at one of your dad’s FBI events, and even though there’s no way it ends well—if anything even starts—you feel the need to see how far you can go. Even if it’s just a little flirting. Even if it’s just tonight.

“Have you ever been here before tonight?” you ask after a beat. You take a sip of your drink, and he mirrors you. You lean in a little closer.

“Once, briefly. I didn’t get a grand tour, or anything.” You smile—bingo—and reach out to place a hand on his arm.

“Oh, I’d be happy to give you one, if you like. Usually my dad is all about it, but he looks occupied.” You both glance across the room at where he is in the middle of a group of men—still discussing their glory days, no doubt—and Aaron looks at you again, nods.

“Sure, I’d love one.” You show him around downstairs, the backyard, the garage—he doesn’t seem to care about the cars at all—and then go upstairs, show him guest rooms, the master bath your mother recently remodeled; he gets a little closer as you go, and you smile more, flirt a bit. You stop outside the door to your room, block it with your body while you talk about the art hanging in the hall; he’s very good at reading your body language, apparently, because he leans closer to you, puts his hand on the doorknob next to your hip.

“What’s this room?” he asks, feigning innocence, and you put your arm over his.

“Oh, no, we’re not going in there. That’s my old bedroom.” He smiles, and you grimace.

“You mean the room I most want to see now? Come on.” He turns the knob, hears it click, and you cover your face with your hand, sigh.

“This is going to be really embarrassing. It’s exactly the way it looked when I went to college, and that was over ten years ago.” You push the door open with your hand, walk in and flick on the light. Aaron follows, chuckles.

“It’s... purple. Cute.” He makes toward the bed, touches one of the frills on the comforter with his big, broad hand. The juxtaposition of your innocent lavender bedding being stroked by the fingers you can’t stop staring at is a very interesting one.

“No, it’s not cute, it’s horrifying,” you say, and when he walks toward the open closet, you begin to regret this little tour. He pulls out your prom dress, your cheerleading uniform.

“Cheerleader, huh? You don’t seem the type.” He looks over at you, and you push it back into the closet, lead him away from it with your hands on his arms.

“I’m not. It was important to my mom.” The two of you are by your dresser now, and he leans in to look in the mirror, at you standing behind him and not his own reflection.

“I see. Do you always put other people's needs before your own?” You sidle up next to him, and he turns to face you.

“This is what you do, right? You… deduce for a living? Like Sherlock?” That makes him laugh, which in turn makes you smile.

“It’s called profiling, but that’s accurate enough.” You feel a challenge brewing inside you, take a step closer to him.

“Okay… What can you tell me about myself by looking around the room? Remember, this stuff is from ten years ago; a lot could have changed.” He crosses his arms, nods.

“You’re right, but your core values wouldn’t have.”

Slowly, he walks around the room, taking things in, touching things, looking back at you briefly and then rifling through parts of your past. It’s a few minutes before he speaks again.

“I think your father wants you to work at the bureau, and you don’t want to because you’ve always felt like you’d live in his shadow if you followed the same career path. You want to blaze your own trail, do what fulfills you, not let his last name be what moves you up the ladder.”

That’s all scarily true, so you nod, cross your arms, lean your butt against your desk.

“I think you’re afraid of commitment because you don’t think any relationship you’re in will ever measure up to what your parents have.” That stings a little, but he’s not wrong. He points to a flyer stuck to a cork board, something about a charity project you’d worked on that revolved around recycling. “Environmentally conscious: I bet you drive a hybrid, and if your dad bought it for you, it’s a... BMW.”

He glances back, and you encourage him to go on. He points to a copy of your Georgetown diploma hanging on the wall, then picks up a cheerleading trophy on your dresser.

“You were a cheerleader to please your mom, went to Georgetown to please your dad, excelled at both; you’re an only child, so you felt you couldn’t let them down. My question is,” he says, looking up at you curiously, “what pleases you?” The words make your heart beat fast; you lick your lips, tilt your head.

“Not much.” He comes closer, arms crossed again.

“Why?” God, that’s a loaded question for a Friday night, for the first day of your vacation. You absently wonder if he’s going to bill you for this impromptu therapy session.

“I find it difficult to ask for what I want,” you ultimately say, and he moves even closer. His stare is probing, and you speculate that he may have been a lawyer before the FBI. The look on his face is the same one you’ve seen in many courtrooms over your short career.

“Of course you do. You’ve never done it before. You've spent your whole life asking other people what they want from you.”

You feel very seen, and you kind of hate it, but you also kind of like it—that he’s able to dissect you like this is a huge turn on. What that says about you, you’re not entirely sure; maybe that you enjoy being seen for who you are—for all that you are—instead of who you know, or who you could have been, for a change.

“I think you didn’t lose your virginity until college—your second year.” It feels like bringing that up is a bold move for him; he doesn’t meet your eyes when he says it. “I would guess you got drunk for the first time around then, too. Your first year you were trying to navigate the feeling of not being under anyone’s thumb anymore; your second year, you finally felt like your own woman, you wanted to try new things, but it made you feel out of control and you don’t like that. Even now you only drink socially, never to get drunk.” He is directly in front of you now, and he reaches out a hand, brushes it over your cheek. “I also think you gravitate toward men you find inappropriate and unattainable so you don’t have to worry about being the reason your relationships fail.”

He looks into your eyes with a questioning gaze. It’s a painfully accurate take, but he softens the blow with the gentle touch.

“Wow, you’re kind of an asshole,” you breathe, but you smile, and he laughs low.

“Maybe. But am I wrong?” You nod your head, and his face falls a little, so you narrow your eyes to mess with him a bit.

“Only about one thing: I actually drive a Kia hybrid. And I bought it myself, for your information.” He smiles, and you press your hands against his chest; it’s crazy how quickly he drops back into the serious expression you first saw him wearing by the bar. “Are you unattainable and inappropriate?”

“I work with your father; we’re the same age. We play golf together sometimes.” He doesn’t seem uncomfortable, doesn’t back away or remove your hands. You slide them down his body, over his stomach, stop at his belt, and he looks the way you feel: tightly wound, aroused, a little breathless.

“That doesn’t really answer my question, Aaron. May I do some profiling of my own?” You look up at him, curious, and he nods.

“Be my guest,” he murmurs, and you lean back. You rake your eyes over his body slowly—there’s no mistaking your appraisal for what it is. “No ring on your finger, but there’s no way you haven’t been married before. My guess is you’re divorced, and it wasn’t your idea.” You look up at his face, smile softly. “Sorry. You weren’t exactly pulling punches either.” He huffs a laugh.

“You’re right: I wasn’t pulling punches. You’re right about the divorce, too. Go on.” You nod, hum.

“Okay. You have a strong moral compass; you always do what’s right, even when it’s difficult. It’s what makes you such a great leader for your team. You like to go by the book, you’re a Fed through and through—but when it comes down to the bureau or the people you care about, you’ll fight the establishment with all you have. You aren’t a blind believer in the government; you have your criticisms, and you aren’t shy about voicing them.”

“Unlike your father,” he says, and you sigh. “You don’t have an appreciation for his work.”

“No, I really don’t.” Your dad specializes in Freedom of Information Act litigation—he does his best to keep the FBI from actually living up to its commitment to be transparent with the American people, and it doesn’t sit right with you, never has. You may both be attorneys, but you could not be more different if you tried. “But I’m profiling you, remember?”

“Right. Please continue.”

“This might be going out on a limb, but I think you went to law school. The way you speak, and the way you looked at me earlier? It was a little like cross-examination. Am I right about that?” His answering smile actually looks pleased.

“You are. I was a prosecutor for a number of years before joining the FBI. I think it’s something you don’t ever really lose.”

“For better or worse,” you say with a smile of your own. Happy with your assessment, you move a little closer again. “One more thing. I don’t think you’re the kind of man who would normally let a woman take you into her bedroom after less than an hour of knowing her. Childhood or otherwise.” You smooth your hands down either side of his tie, over his firm chest and solid midsection. “Maybe you saw something in me you liked?”

“I was... dreading coming here tonight.” He brings his hands up to cover yours, but doesn’t pull them away, just holds them. “If you’ve been to one of these parties, you’ve been to them all—no offense to your father—and I was contemplating a good excuse to leave early, if I’m being honest. Then you showed up at my side—my friend’s mysterious daughter that I’ve heard so much about—and you’re funny, and charming. Insightful. Vulnerable.” He squeezes your hands, presses them closer to his chest. “Beautiful. It’s been a long time since I’ve looked at someone and felt an instant connection. Do you feel it?” His voice is just above a whisper, and you nod lightly.

You aren’t the type of woman to take a man into her bedroom after less than an hour of knowing him, childhood or otherwise, but he makes you want so badly you’re almost ravenous—you’ve felt this way before, maybe twice in your life, but neither of those experiences ended with you getting what you wanted. You really hope this time might be different.

“Kiss me?” He takes a breath and then presses his lips together.

“I shouldn’t.”

“I know. But will you?” After a beat, he does, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours, moving his hands to your face as he deepens it.

It’s not a hard kiss, but rough around the edges, your noses pressed together, mouths seeking contact even as you pull apart for breath. He kisses like he needs it, tastes like bourbon, feels like heaven; it’s steamy, wet, makes your chest heave and your pussy throb. When he walks you backward, gently presses your body against your desk, you hop up onto it easily and pull him closer, between your spread knees.

“Aaron,” you sigh over his lips, and his hands move to your thighs, pushing up your dress so he can get closer to you. You glide your fingers through his hair, plant a hand on the desk, then feel something tip over, hear the soft sound of paper sliding over the edge.

Aaron looks down, picks up a lavender envelope; he holds it up with a question in his eye and an enamored look on his face.

“‘From the desk of…’ You had personalized stationery at eighteen?” His mouth is a little red from the kiss still, and he’s teasing you, perfect; you smile, can’t believe this is happening.

“I liked to write to my congressman… and Ruth Bader Ginsburg,” you pant. He chuckles, kisses you a little softer than before, then moves down your throat, sweeps his tongue over your pulse. “Mmm. Right there.”

He pauses to look up at you, hair mussed from your fingers, and you push his jacket off his shoulders; he shifts to full height, helps you take it off, and you drape it over your desk chair, work the knot of his tie loose.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asks as your fingers slip down the front of his shirt, freeing his buttons. You unclasp his belt, open his pants, and stretch up for a kiss, touching his face; you nod when you pull back.

“Absolutely. Are you?” He nods too, all serious eyebrows you want to kiss, mouth you want back on yours, on your throat, anywhere.

“Absolutely.” You step down off the desk, run your hands over his arms, then kick off your shoes and walk over to the door, close and lock it; when you pass him again, you guide him to the bed and sit in his lap, clutch at his shoulders and kiss him with as much desperation as he showed you before. There’s a lot of heavy breathing, sighing, moans from you both, and if just kissing is this good, you can’t imagine what he’ll be like inside of you.

When you can find it in yourself to stop kissing him, you pull back and climb out of his lap, present the back of your dress so he can ease down the zipper. He pushes it off, large, warm hands gliding over your body until it hits the floor in a heap unbecoming of the designer label. Your mother would lose her mind.

“You are incredibly beautiful,” Aaron says as he moves his hands to your hips, sliding your panties down and leaning in to press his lips to your stomach. You sigh, press a hand to the back of his head while his mouth explores you where you’re soft and sensitive. You’d like it lower, but there may not be time for that tonight. “What do you want with an old man like me?”

“None of that.” You sweep your hands over his shoulders, sink down onto his lap again, and his hands fall to your bare hips, squeezing you softly; you close your eyes for a moment, so overwhelmed by just the simplest touch. “Like you said: I feel a connection.” Your fingers move to push his shirt open, to lift his undershirt so you can get your hands on bare skin and soft body and hair. He groans, and you kiss him, deep and slow, hands moving to take off both shirts and add them to his jacket on your chair. You take a deep breath, reach out to touch his cheek. “Connect with me.”

He takes your hand, brings your palm to his mouth and kisses it, then drags it down so your fingers slide over his lips; you swallow hard, can feel wetness pooling between your legs, so you slide off of him and onto the bed—however sexy it may be to leave your mark on him, you do both have to return to the party at some point.

Sitting up beside him, you touch his body, ease his pants and boxers down; he takes them off along with his shoes, and you pull the comforter out from under you, push it to the side, let yourself lay back and bask in the look and feel of him as he settles between your knees, leans in for a kiss.

It’s even more intense than before, somehow, his thighs against yours, strong arms supporting him, and you drag your nails lightly up his body, tip your head back and sigh when his lips trail from the base of your throat to your jaw.

He moves a hand low, rubs his fingers between your lips and presses one finger inside you, slowly glides it in and out so you’re moaning, sighing his name.

“That feels so good,” you breathe, and he moves his mouth to yours again, soft and wet, the slide of his tongue sinfully delicious. He adds a second finger, earns more gasping moans, then a third; with the help of a capable thumb stroking over your clit, you come, and he kisses the praise right out of your mouth and then pushes inside you.

His mouth doesn’t leave yours, keeps you close as he thrusts inside, gradually lowering his weight onto you until you feel him everywhere: chest soft against yours, stomachs pressing together as you both work your hips, as your hands grasp his back to keep him close, heavy. Connected.

“You’re perfect. You feel incredible, baby,” he speaks against your lips in a rare moment apart, and you hitch your knees up higher, press the heels of your feet against his ass.

You thought he looked turned on before, but now he looks like he’s being consumed by it, like he wants to thrust deeper into you, make a home in your body and never leave; you would be more than okay with that, to spend the next two weeks beneath him, holding him close, sharing breath and sweat and pleasure so complete it changes you profoundly.

He moves a hand behind your head, cradles it, and sucks wet kisses against your throat—nothing so deep as to leave a mark, but that doesn’t mean you’re not panting, whimpering, begging for more.

“Aaron. Hmm, oh. You’re so gorgeous, I—everything about you.” He pulls away from your neck, peers down at you, and you’re sure you’re a sight to behold in your desperation; your palms smooth down his back, to his sides, and you hug him close, squeeze him hard when he comes, panting your name against your throat and pumping roughly inside.

You meet his every thrust, dig your nails into his hips, and he leans forward, covers your mouth with his and grinds against you until your second blissful orgasm shudders through your limbs. You clench tight around him, moan, then slowly sag back against the mattress, more thoroughly satisfied than you’ve ever been in your life.

He shifts, half on top of you and half off, his kisses gradually slowing, his hands sweeping over your shoulders, your face, your arms. When you’re calm, content, you sigh, kiss his hands and cheeks and lips; you’re warm, and you curl around him, overheated skin on skin, and never want to leave.

“Mmm,” he rumbles against your shoulder, mouthing at it, and you sigh, scrape your nails through his hair.

“Mm hmm. Think I can die happy now,” you murmur, and he shifts up to look at you, a smile curving softly from the corner of his mouth.

“Don’t die on me, now.” You smile too, scoot closer for slow kisses. You’re both happy to lay there, quietly kissing, but eventually it’s clear you need to return to the party in order to avoid suspicion—not that you think anyone would ever guess what just occurred.

You dress side by side, turning to have him fix your zipper, reaching up to help him with his tie. When you’re both technically decent enough to head downstairs, you plan to give him a head start, but the two of you get caught up in one more deeply sensual kiss that almost makes you want to just say screw it and take his clothes off again. He can tell, has the barest hint of a smirk on his face when the kiss breaks, and he punctuates it with a soft press of lips before walking out the door.

With your spare few minutes, you look around the room—and at your rumpled, frilly, lavender bed, on which you just had super hot sex with one of your dad’s friends, it’s still kind of sinking in—and wonder what the rest of your vacation could possibly bring that could top this night. At breakfast the next morning, you find out.

You and your parents are discussing the party, who got too drunk to function, who left with the wrong wife, which of your dad’s friend’s sons you got along with most, and then he drops the bomb on you.

“And see, honey, I told you talking to Aaron would be beneficial.” You choke on a bite of scrambled eggs, try to wash it down with a sip of juice; your mom pats you on the back until the moment passes.

“What?” you ask, voice barely a squeak. You clear your throat and try again. “What about Aaron, dad?” He flips the newspaper he’s holding to the next page and peers over it at you.

“I told you talking to Aaron would be beneficial. Before he left last night, he told me all about the internship—it’s nice of him to set it up for the two weeks you’re here, so you can get some experience under your belt.” You briefly think about your experience under Aaron’s belt, but it’s really not the time.

He really set you up with an internship—one he knows you aren’t interested in—based on the offhand comment you’d made about squeezing it into your two week vacation. You’d be kind of irritated at him for making the plans on your behalf, but if it means the next two weeks are anything like last night, he’s going to make it well worth your while.

The internship excites both of your parents, and your mom declares it a girls day, takes you out for some new clothes, since you didn’t bring any workwear, for a manicure and pedicure and then drinks. She talks about what a great opportunity this will be for you, and you don’t have the heart—or maybe you just don’t care anymore—to argue about what great opportunities you’ve already made possible for yourself.

Sunday is for relaxing, and not internally panicking about seeing Aaron again. Friday night was incredible, but you didn’t think it would turn into anything, considering he is your dad’s friend, and you’re only here for a couple weeks.

You have to hand it to him, though: if he enjoyed himself as much as you did, and this internship is his way of getting to spend more time with you, he has managed to do what you haven’t been able for twenty-nine years—find a way to please your parents while finally pleasing yourself. Monday morning, you show up at the BAU office to receive a photo ID badge and fill out some paperwork. You don’t actually get to meet anyone from the BAU until after lunch, and when you do, Aaron is nowhere to be seen.

“Hi, I’m looking for Unit Chief Hotchner?” you say to a fair-skinned woman with long blonde hair and a kind smile. “I’m interning for the next couple weeks.” There is a man with her, Black, tall, bald, with very expressive eyebrows; the eyebrows don’t look like they think very highly of you.

“You’re an intern? A little old, aren’t you?” After a beat, his face breaks into a smile, and you roll your eyes, huff a laugh.

“Charmer. Yes, I’m definitely too old to be an intern; do you have overbearing parents by chance?” He raises his hands, palms up, and takes a step back.

“No, but enough said.” The blonde woman laughs, and he nods in your direction. “I’m Derek Morgan, this is JJ Jareau. Come with me, I’ll take you to Hotch.”

You thank him, follow as he leads you across the room and up some stairs.

“So what’s he like, Agent Hotchner?” you ask, wanting someone else’s opinion of Aaron as a boss, a coworker—anything other than the one night stand that wasn’t. You really know so little about him.

“He’s a good guy; smart, fair, great at what he does. A little tightly wound; could stand to live a little.” He looks back at you with a grin. “He’ll probably remind you a little of your dad.”

God. It almost makes you throw up in your mouth a little.

“You know, I doubt it, but thanks for the warning.” He knocks on a closed door at the end of the hall, and a moment later, Aaron answers it. His expression doesn’t change as Derek introduces you, and when he walks away with a friendly pat on your shoulder, Aaron gestures you in. He closes the door behind you and looks carefully over your face.

“Hi,” he says, and you see that hint of a smirk on his face again. You take a moment to appraise the room—there’s a window with blinds that are closed, a desk and chairs, bookcases, a printer, more windows on the far side, a loveseat. You look back at Aaron with a raised brow.

“Hi. What am I doing here?” His expression gets serious, like he can’t tell if you’re pleased or upset with him for the surprise. You sit down on the loveseat, set your bag down, and he sits down next to you.

“I know you wanted to get your father off your back, and you did say if I could squeeze an internship into two weeks that you’d be interested.” You smile a little, because you did say that. “I thought it might be nice to see you a little more, too. You’re under no obligation to stay,” he assures you, briefly looking down, and then he takes your hand. “But surely there are worse ways to spend your vacation?”

You give him an uncertain look, like you’re really trying to decide what you’d like to do, and then you push up your skirt and swiftly straddle his thighs, press your hands against his shoulders. His mouth falls open a little, and you lean in to catch it with yours.

“I have been thinking about you all weekend,” he mutters into the kiss, wraps his arms around your back. “Have you thought about me?”

“Only every night.” He groans at your words, lets his head fall back a little, and you press your lips to the column of his throat, nip softly with your teeth. “Every morning. Every minute.” You bite at the shell of his ear, kiss it, card your fingers through his hair. “Do I have an actual job to do here?” You pull back, and he raises his eyebrows; you can’t help the grin that takes over your expression. “Because if not, I’m going to focus on making this the best two weeks of your life.”

He pulls you in for another kiss, a little rougher than before, deeper, and you tug on his hair, pant against his cheek when you separate.

“In that case, no. You don’t have a job to do here.” You tilt your head, and he smiles a little. “I'm the boss, I make the rules.” That kind of thing has never done it for you before, but you have to admit it’s making you feel some type of way right now. You sweep your hands inside his jacket, squeeze his sides.

“Mmm, yes you do. Hey, do you think there’s enough room for me to fit under your desk?” He wets his lips, and you climb off of him, walk around to check it out for yourself, bending over his desk in your tight black skirt to peek beneath it. You look up to see Aaron is not shy about taking in the view, and you grin. “Spacious.”

He walks toward you, and when he’s closer, his eyes look dark with need; his hands look like they ache to reach out and touch. You step forward, let yourself be caged in against the desk by his arms, and you arch your back a little, open his belt slowly.

“I didn’t set this up so you would feel obligated to do this.” You sigh, lean up to catch his lips in a soft kiss.

“I know you didn’t. But if I want to?” You tug down his zipper, slip your hand inside his underwear, feel him hot and stiff in your palm. “And you want to?” He nods tightly and you kiss him again, squeeze him softly, sweep your tongue between his lips. “Then let’s.”

You take a step back, push his chair far enough out of the way that you can crawl under the desk, come up on your knees; he exhales deeply, then sinks down into his chair, stretches his long legs so they rest on either side of your body, holds his pants open for you. You look up at him, hope he sees how ridiculously eager you are to do this, and you take his dick out, stroke it a couple times, and cover it with your mouth.

“My god,” he sighs, head resting back against his seat. You hold him with both hands, suck deep and wet, moan a little when he spreads his legs further apart. “Your mouth feels so good, baby. Does this make you wet?” You pull off, move one hand to slide up his stomach, clutch his shirt there.

“Very, but I’m patient. Want to make you come.” He wets his lips, sighs, and you dip your head, lick up the length of him before sucking him back down.

He is all perfect, desperate noises, soft grunts and moans, gently palming your head as he gets closer, and you’re pretty sure he’s about to get off when there’s a knock at the door. He mutters a curse, and you squeeze his stomach, determined to make him come in the next five seconds. He looks like he’s going to lose his mind.

“Just a minute,” he manages, his voice strained, and he puts his hands on your arms, but you stroke and suck him quickly, actually sigh in relief when he spills in your mouth; your only regret is that he couldn’t be louder.

As soon as he’s through coming, you duck under the desk to wipe your mouth, and he hurries to fix his fly, to close his belt. There’s another knock, and he exhales, calls for whoever is on the other side to come in.

He accidentally bangs his knee off the desk, winces, and you lean back against it, panting, your heart racing.

“Aaron!”

Your eyes snap closed. What are the actual chances of this? You don’t know enough about karma to have an opinion on it, but you come to the sudden realization that you must have done something wrong in a past life.

“Hey, what are you doing in our neck of the woods?” Aaron asks, managing to sound like he is in fact not talking to the father of the woman who just swallowed his come.

“Looking for my little girl, of course. Had to see what she was getting up to on her first day at the FBI.”

“She’s actually… downstairs. In the mailroom. Interns start at the bottom and work their way up.” You stifle a laugh, because despite your compromising position, that’s kind of funny.

“Oh, okay. Agent Morgan thought she was up here, but I guess she must have snuck by him. Would you tell her I stopped by?”

“Absolutely. She’ll be happy to hear it,” he says, and you think you might be out of the woods, but you hear your dad’s voice again.

“Hey I almost forgot to mention: Monday Night Football tonight, got a bunch of guys coming over to watch the game. You interested?”

“You know, that would be great. You can text me the details. Thanks for the invitation.”

“Sure, of course. I really appreciate you taking care of my girl.” You have to bite your lip this time, and Aaron taps his foot against your hip.

“It’s my pleasure. She’s really wonderful. You should be proud.”

“I am. I’ll text you the details,” he says, and then the door closes and Aaron pulls back, looks down at you beneath the desk. You kind of just stare at each other for a minute.

“Close call?” you say with a shrug, and he helps you to your feet, then lifts you up and sets your ass on the edge of his desk. He grabs your face for a messy kiss, and you cling to him, breathless when he pulls back.

“What does it say about me that I’m turned on again?” he asks, and you shake your head, pull him close for another kiss.

“I don’t know, but I’m really turned on, too. Can you—” That’s as far as you get before he strides over to the door, flips the lock, and comes back to push your skirt up, tug your panties down to your knees so quickly it makes you gasp. He gets on his knees slowly, looks up at your face, and puts his hands on your hips, takes a few deep, thorough licks of your pussy. “Oh, my god.” You put your hand on the back of his head, drop your ass harder against the desk and press your other palm against it for support.

He is as enthusiastic as you were for him, slipping his tongue between your lips, gliding rhythmically over your opening but not pressing in, the tease. It feels insanely good, so much but not quite enough.

“Aaron. Oh, mmm—please. Please.” You sigh, dig your fingers into his hair, and he puts his hands under your ass and tilts you back on the desk, dives lower to start thrusting inside you with his tongue. “Yes, yeah, right there,” you murmur, and you rock your hips a little; your hand slips, sending you further back on the desk so that you’re almost laying back on it, and it makes you feel so deliciously dirty that you groan, grab at the collar of his jacket at the back of his neck.

“You okay?” he asks, pulling back to look up at you, and you nod, frantic; he licks his lips, lifts your legs and puts them over his shoulders, then dips down to stroke his tongue inside you, to press a finger inside alongside it.

“Holy—oh, yes.” You toss your head back, whine, and come around his finger while his tongue flicks in and out until you’re left breathless, spent.

You press yourself up to sitting, and Aaron stands, kisses you deeply, hands on your face while you’re still slick on his tongue. After a couple of minutes, he helps you get cleaned and straightened up, his kisses soft presses of lips this time.

“I should try to get some work done,” he says, but he doesn’t sound like he wants to; after that, you can’t really blame him.

“That’s okay; I brought my laptop, so I can work on some stuff too, if you don’t mind.” He doesn’t of course, and you get set up at the other end of his desk. You’re both plugging away at your work when you’re reminded of something from earlier; you close the lid of your computer and look over at Aaron, head tilted. “I didn’t take you for someone who likes football.” He smiles, taps his pen against his chin.

“I don’t. But I figured you’ll be there.” You smile back.

“Yeah, I’ll be there. Maybe I’ll see if my old cheerleading uniform still fits—you know, just to go with the theme.” You open your computer back up, but the look on Aaron’s face out of the corner of your eye is very, very promising. “Mmh, that feels good,” you murmur, one hand on Aaron’s shoulder and the other on his thigh; he is propped up against your pillows, massaging your bare breast and your clit while you roll your hips in his lap. Your cheerleading skirt fits, mostly, but you couldn’t zip it all the way; still, it’s the only thing you’re wearing, and you can’t deny the whole situation is so hot it hurts.

“You feel so incredible. Taking me so well.” He can’t kiss you in this position, and you can tell he wants to—you really want him to—so you feel a little like a tease as you work your ass and thighs atop him. “You know you’re beautiful, but I can’t stop saying it. You’re perfect, baby—in this little skirt?” He moves the hand from your breast to your hip under the skirt, squeezes you there. “So sexy. Do you remember any cheers for me?”

You groan, roll your eyes.

“Not worth the orgasm to embarrass myself,” you say, and he lifts his hips, slams up into you hard. “Mmh. Okay, almost worth the orgasm, but not going to do it.” He lifts an eyebrow, pumps his hips up again.

“Really? Not even if I…” He lunges forward, lifting you out of his lap and making you laugh, then maneuvers you onto your stomach, gets on his knees behind you, flips up the skirt.

“God, Aaron,” you sigh, and he presses his thighs right up against your ass, slides inside, pumps slow and steady while squeezing your cheeks, pulling you back toward him. Your fingers dig into the stupid, frilly bedspread, which will probably turn you on for the rest of your life, now, and you move back against his thrusts, moan.

“Worth it now?” he asks, filling you so completely, and you pant, hum.

“Wouldn’t you rather I just moan your name?” He leans forward at that, hands planted up under your arms, and leans in to speak into your ear; the way he’s pressed against you, the angle is perfect, and you’re right on the edge when his lips brush your throat.

“Yeah, why don’t you do that instead.” It takes about two seconds for you to come, and you aren’t shy about it, let his name fall from your lips in an endless string of praise. He hammers against your ass, the roughest he’s been—and god, does it feel good—then comes inside you murmuring your name.

He pulls out, rolls you over, and you finally kiss, make it count; it’s like the first night, how you can’t get enough of each other, messy, desperate, curling tongues and soft, eager lips, but you know you can’t keep it up forever, because his presence downstairs will be missed much sooner than Friday’s party.

You help him get dressed—in jeans and a blue polo, maybe the only time in your life a polo has made you wet—and then throw on a t-shirt and jeans of your own, head downstairs. You detour for the kitchen to grab a couple beers while he heads into the living room, and then you plop down next to him on the couch and hand him one like you weren’t just defiling your childhood bedroom yet again.

“There you are,” your dad says when he registers your presence—it’s impossible to get him to look away from the tv when a good game is on. “So how was your first day at the office? Think you’re going to like it there?”

“Yeah, I don’t know why I was resistant for so long.” You shift, put your leg under your butt, and take a sip of your beer. “It’s not going to be a career for me, but I have a really good feeling about the next two weeks.”

Taglist ❤️: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed @averyhotchner @hotforhotchner11 @itsmytimetoodream

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #hotch x female reader #hotch x reader #ask answered #anon #prompt

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moririki · 4 years ago

Text

⤷ CLUELESS

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI X READER -> 1.5K despite your best efforts to confess your feelings to the infamous stone wall, he never quite seems to understand

REQUEST -> n/a CONTAINS -> ushijima being fucking clueless lmaooo, reader stumbling around being awkward, tendo being a jackass in the best way, obvious pining MORI'S THOUGHTS -> this imagine is based off of monthly girls' nozaki-kun, which is a pretty good (and short!) anime i watched on netflix hehe. the dynamic just reminded me of ushi for some reason so this became a thing

WHEN YOU FOUND YOURSELF FALLING HEAD OVER HEELS FOR THE CAPTAIN OF A VOLLEYBALL TEAM, YOU DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO. the two of you had nothing in common. the most you saw of him in a day was the brief glimpse of him before he headed into class. despite the fact that you could count the number of interactions that you've had with him on one hand, you were quick to develop feelings for the guy.

maybe you just had a type. he was tall, handsome, and quiet, but you were surprised that not many of the girls in your class gossiped about him. from what you knew about him, he mostly kept to himself or the volleyball team, with a very focused mindset accompanying him on and off of the court. the more that you knew about him only deepened your crush, to the point where it was getting unbearable to just admire him from afar.

while you felt like you knew the outcome before it started, you still decided to try your luck. today was the day of your confession.

"um, ushijima?" you tapped him on the shoulder hesitantly, stood next to his desk. he turned to you, face stoic as always. now or never. don't give away the fact that you're sweating bullets, you reminded yourself. your hands were balled into tight fists, nails digging into your palms as you felt your mouth open and close a few times with no sound coming out. fuck.

ushijima's face was blank, offering neither support nor disdain. well, the lack of outright disgust was always a good sign.

"i just wanted to say that i, uh.." you trailed off, resolve crumbling underneath the powerful gaze of ushijima. what were you thinking? you couldn't tell him how you felt, but you couldn't just slowly destroy yourself keeping it from him. might as well get it over and done with. "i want to be around you!" you ended up blurting out. and once the dam broke, more and more words started to spill past your lips.

"i've always admired you and how dedicated you are to volleyball, and i want to be around you more- and it's because i-" you finally hesitared at that, feeling your face flame up when confronted with the three little words which would change everything. but ushijima must have assumed that you had finished talking because your chance to confess had disappeared.

"i'm glad that you feel that way, y/n." ushijima's facial expression was still stern, but you perked up at his words nonetheless.

"you do?" you sounded breathless, eyes wide after you had just exposed exactly how you felt to your long-standing crush. ushijima nodded encouragingly, and you could feel a ringing in your ears as you begaj to think that you were dreaming. this was simply too good to be true, and you felt so lightheaded that you could float away with the lightest gust of wind.

"to confirm your position as manager you're going to have to fill out a form, but you can join practice tomorrow." you blinked, feeling yourself crash back down to earth when ushijima continued to speak.

"wait, what?" ushijima then looked at you in confusion.

"did you not just ask me to be a manager?" you hesitated, struggling internaly as to whether you should confess, again. but your cowardice won, and you sighed, nodding.

"i'll see you tomorrow."

the plasticky squeak of trainers hitting gymnasium floor welcomed you, and you steeled your nerves before stepping through the doors and being welcomed by the bright lights. you squinted as the glare hit you, hands holding onto your arms in an attempt to pull yourself together.

the sound of a volleyball being spiked into the floor harshly grasped your attention, and you watched in awe as the shiratorizawa volleyball team began to warm up. ushijima had just delivered that terrifyingly fast spike, and you felt a blush rise to your face as you saw how concentrated he was. cute.

"oh, hello!" a singsong voice and accompanying face invaded your senses, and you squeaked in surprise, taking an involuntary step back. the red-headed boy grinned at you, his frame towering over yours. "are you the new manager?" you nodded once, eyes darting past him to look at ushijima again. the ace still had his attention trained onto the court, despite the racket his teammate was causing. you sighed when you realised that your crush hadn't noticed you come in, and your action caused the redhead in front of you to narrow his eyes shrewdly.

"tendo, get back to practice!" a second voice called from the court. another guy with grey hair was stood there with his hands on his hips, staring at the male in front of you expectantly.

"coming, semi-semi!" tendo sang, offering you a cheery wave before running back. you were glad that there was at least one friendly face in the gym, though you had to fend for yourself now.

considering the fact that you had minimal support and nobody else to show you the ropes, you had actually picked up rather quickly on how to be a semi-decent manager. you fell into a rhythm over the next few weeks, filling up water bottles and preparing towels for the sweaty players. at least your failed confession had led to you taking part in a club that would look very good on your college applications.

another positive from this whole experience was the fact that you had gained two new friends, who went by the names tendo and semi. it was almost embarrassing at how quickly they figured out your crush for their team captain- semi tried to flirt with you, and tendo cackled as you stuttered out a rejection for his advances. next thing you know, one instinctive glance in ushijima's direction had tendo unraveling the entire mystery as to why you had signed up for a position as manager.

of course, the two assholes found the whole situation hilarious at your expense. however, you couldn't find yourself holding a grudge against the boys when they offered to act as your official wingmen. as for the very reason why you had joined the team, things were going about as well as you could expect. while he made no indication of going out of his way to talk to you, ushijima would gladly return any conversation that you struck up when handing him his water bottle or towel. he'd then return to practice promptly, help to lock up the gym, and then leave with not much in terms of a second glance. it was unsurprising behaviour, but still disheartening to say the least.

that's how you found yourself ranting to tendo during the team's five-minute break, with the boy watching your frustrated face in amusement.

“i just- i can’t believe that i talked myself into being a manager! all because of a crush! a crush that doesn’t even realise that i like him!” you placed down the towel that you just folded in frustration, and tendo couldn’t stop a giggle escaping his lips.

“look, that’s just how he is.” the redhead attempted to console you, giving you a pat on the arm. “he’s difficult to read, and he never talks about his emotions. besides, i don’t think he’s ever had a crush before.”

you sighed, nodding in defeat.

“yeah, yeah. i get it.” tendo’s focus drifted from your face to behind you, and he was quick to sling an arm around your shoulder.

“speaking of the guy...” he muttered to you under his breath. you turned to see the captain approaching, his brow slightly knitted. you smiled as best as you could, offering him a water bottle.

“bye, sweetie,” tendo cooed at you, shooting you a painfully obvious wink that had you blushing and looking down at your shoes. now it was just you and ushijima, the latter being as silent as ever. you coughed once, peeking up at his face.

“you spiked well today.” ushijima nodded once, a small smile spreading across his face. the motion had your heart swelling.

“thank you. you’re a very good manager.” you laughed, mostly to hide your blush and just at how ironic this entire situation was.

“thank you.” you smiled up at the man, and that was the end of your interaction. you watched his back as he returned back to the court, going so much further away from you. tendo shot you two thumbs up and received a slap on the back of the head from semi, and that made you giggle.

hell, even if you got here under circumstances that weren’t in your favour, you wouldn’t trade it for the world. something about getting to watch ushijima perform in his element every day was enough to keep your crush going, reciprocated or not. besides, who knew how the guy really felt after all?

your daydreaming had you staring off into space as the coach blew a whistle to mark the return to practice, and a pair of olive eyes tore themselves away from you to focus back on the court.

you had been paying attention to his spikes, after all.

back to the counter - ,, 💐 ·˚ ༘ ꒱

#moririki‧₊˚✩彡.🧺#x reader #haikyu #haikyuu #haikyuu!#hq #haikyuu x reader #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima angst #haikyuu angst #haikyuu imagine #ushijima imagine #ushijima #ushijima wakatoshi #fluff‧₊˚✩彡.🕯

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complexgods · 4 years ago

Text

“Take care of you”

Erwin Smith x male reader

Modern AU

Warnings: sexual content, praise, use of "good boy," slight dacryphilia but honestly pretty vanilla. minors dni

A/N: This is my first time writing for male readers because I'm tired of the lack of content for masc identifying people out there, and I hope this is okay!

Erwin Smith was a very dedicated man in everything he did. He was a hard worker, cared about everyone in his life, and made sure to always be fair and good to the people around him. On top of that, he was a wonderful boyfriend. He always made sure to give you his full attention after a long week at work, taking you out on sweet dates and always covering you in kisses. You never felt as loved and cared for as you did when you were with him, in every aspect of your life. This also meant that he was a fantastic lover.

He was so attentive to your wants and needs, taking extra time to prep you, prying your hole open with his thick fingers as praise left his lips as if they have never done anything else their entire life. He of course also got a bit rough from time to time, but mostly he only cared about how he made you feel, no matter how often you offered to return the favour.

You were in the kitchen of your shared apartment, preparing dinner as you heard the front door open. Soon enough, your boyfriend wrapped his arms around your waist, kissing the top of your head.

"What are you doing home so early? I thought you were going to be in the gym until later." You said after you kissed him hello.

"I did. But I thought I'd rather see my boyfriend because he's been working so hard and I wanted to spend some time with him."

"Hmm is that so?" You chuckled as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a deep kiss. You could gladly keep on kissing him, but unfortunately, there were more pressing matters to attend to.

"You're sweaty, go shower. I need to finish cooking." You gently pushed him away.

"Alright fine. It's a shame that you need to cook. Otherwise, you could've joined me in the shower." You smacked him on his shoulder as he retreated into the bathroom.

You knew it was a silly thing to react so intensely to, but the thought of joining Erwin in the shower did things to you and it was hard to keep your hands off your boyfriend during dinner. You could feel a semi coming on as he rambled on about his day at the office, and you decided you couldn't wait any longer. So, as he went on about the upcoming audit, you sneakily traced your hands up his thigh, and when his breath hitched, you knew you had him.

"What are you doing, my love? Are you that desperate?" You silently nodded, and Erwin chuckled.

"Alright, let me finish this, then let's take care of your problem." You sighed in relief as you attentively watched Erwin calmly finish his meal. As soon as he finished wiping the corners of his mouth with a napkin, he stood up, scooped you up in his arms, and carrying you to your shared bedroom. It never failed to surprise you how strong your boyfriend was. Sure, you were on the shorter side compared to him, but you were by no means small. And yet he carried you as if you were nothing, and it turned you on so much.

Once he gently placed you on the bed, he crawled over you, kissing you deeply.

"Been thinking about this all day," Erwin admitted in between kisses as he hastily unbuckled your belt, sliding your jeans down your legs. Your cock felt painfully hard against your boxers, and you hissed when the cool air hit you. Erwin didn't leave you any minute to adjust, immediately taking your cock whole into his mouth. It felt so good, you couldn't help but gasp as his tongue swirled over the head of your already drooling cock. Once Erwin seemed to be satisfied with the sounds you made, he pulled off of you with a pop, reaching for the bottle of lube and some condoms you keep in the drawer on your side of the bed. He was always so attentive, making sure to prep you to the max so you can take him without much pain.

Once his fingers were slicked up, he prodded against your entrance, teasing the hole a bit.

"Erwin for the love of God-" Your complaints were cut short as a thick finger entered your tight hole. It didn't take long before a second finger joined the first one, scissoring you open. You completely melted into his touch, starting to get lost in the feeling of his fingers stretching you open.

"Such a good boy for me. I can't wait to fill you up." His other hand wrapped around your cock, thumb teasingly swiping across the slit, dripping with precum.

"Please Erwin, I need you." Was all you managed to say in between gasps and moans, and Erwin all but growled in your ear in response.

"Get these off me then" Erwin started to sound just as desperate as you, and you noticed that he still had his sweatpants on, precum already dampening the fabric. He groaned as his thick cock sprung free from its confines, and he didn't wait any longer as he grabbed the condom on the bed, ripping it open with his teeth. He pulled his fingers out of you, wiping them on the bed.

"Don't worry baby, I'm going to take care of you." He said in response to your whine at the loss of his fingers. Seconds later, he sunk into you, filling you to the brim. You all but screamed out as you felt the familiar burning sensation as he slowly fucked you open, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses along your neck as he did so.

"I love these tears, right here," Erwin mumbled as he swiped your tears off your cheeks. You couldn't help it, he was so big and it always knocked the air out of your lungs when he entered you.

Soon enough you found a good rhythm, the sound of wet skin against wet skin only interrupted by your moans and groans intertwined with Erwin's praises.

"Such a good boy, taking me so well. Can't- hah- wait to make you cum" He moaned deeply as he sped up his pace, fucking into you with seemingly no restraint.

"Erwin, please I- I need to-"

Erwin gripped your neglected cock, stroking it in time with his thrusts.

"It's okay, let go. You can do it you're so close I can- fuck- feel you clench all over me. L- Let go for me."

His praise was all it took to have you screaming his name in between a symphony of I-love-yous and spilling all over your stomach, clenching your hole so tight that Erwin came seconds after you.

Once you came down from your high, you could feel Erwin nuzzling your neck, leaving soft kisses there as he held you tight.

"I needed that." You admitted in a soft voice, kissing Erwin's shoulder.

"Me, too."

After a few minutes, Erwin peeled himself off you, much to your dismay.

"Come on, baby, let's get cleaned up."

Yeah, your boyfriend was perfect.

#erwin smut #snk smut #aot smut #erwin x male reader #erwin smith smut #attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #aot x male reader #v thirsts

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lokai-fi · 3 years ago

Text

Lover Boy

All he needs to do is keep his head down and fight. Yeosang can do that without getting caught up in the wrong crowd. Right?

mmafighter!Yeosang x reader

Genre/AU: fighter Yeo, established relationship, slight fluff, slight angst.

w/c: 1.2k

I refuse to stop with these fighter Au’s because A: wowowowow can you imagine and B: i kinda want to turn this into a whole fic, really dive more into enemy #1

In the ring Yeosang doesn’t hesitate. He’s swift, precise, unrelenting and when time calls for it, merciless. He’s everything your father trained him to be.

Yeosang always strikes first, he says it’s a gift to his opponent to show them what they’re up against.

You know the guy he’s fighting, he’s cocky and loud. Kid’s gotten here through pure luck and a lot of dirty money. He shouldn’t have been a problem.

So why the fuck is Yeosang allowing himself to get hit?

“Dammit!” You hiss when your fingernails dig too far into your hands. But your fists don’t relax as Yeosang stumbles back. You can’t help but think that’s he’s playing a game you two didn’t agree upon as he swipes at the blood dripping from his nose. He rights himself, smacking his gloves together for good measure before jumping back in.

He gets in two more shots, the opponent gets one to Yeosang's ribs and the whole crowd lets their disdain known as the bell rings for the third round.

“Fuckin’ idiot.” you growl out.

Yeosang’s not sure who your comment is aimed towards but by the way you’re handling him, he’s the lucky recipient.

“Where’s your head huh? I need you to be in this fight, Sang.”

He can only squirm as you shove gauze up his nose. He’ll forgive your rough hands, you only have another minute.

“I know.”

“Oh you know.” you grab his arms and wave them in front of his face. “Then keep these up…. Stupid.”

There it is.

Yeosang can see the glint in your eyes as you try to hold back your smile. You can never be mean to him for too long. The corner of his mouth shifts up.

Thirty seconds left.

“And if I do, what’s in it for me.”

“You get to save the gym, move to the semi finals, and I dunno, not get your face smashed.”

“Mmm, what else.”

You roll your eyes and shove his mouth guard back in. The crowds getting antsy, you know how much money’s bet in his favor.

“What else ya want?” you double and triple check his wraps.

“These,-” he says through the guard. You scoff, knowing he’s concussed by the way he swipes his thumb across your lips. He stands and you secure his gloves as tight as they’ll go. He’s looming over you, eyes flashing over to the other corner before flitting back down to you.

“-all over.”

“You win this, you'll get a lot more than just that. Now, keep! Those! Hands! Up!”

You’ve never seen a faster knock out and instead of celebrating with the crowd in his typical fashion, he’s marching straight to you. Mouth guard and gloves had been discarded in the few strides it took to reach you and his fingers dig into your waist as his lips crash onto yours. It’s harsh and sloppy but you pull him tighter anyway, ignoring the way his sweat drips onto your face.

He’s desperate to have you in his grip just a little longer.

So when he pulls away, chest heaving and forehead resting against yours, you know something’s up. Your smile drops instantly.

“What? What happened?”

But he’s getting pulled back into the center of the ring before he can give you an answer.

“I wouldn’t worry sweetheart.” a heavy hand grips your shoulder and you bite down on your cheek. You know that voice all too well.

Choi fucking Jongho.

The bane of your existence.

“Your gym’s safe for now.”

He shushes you before you can say anything.

“Don’t make a scene, we have eyes on us you know.”

He pulls you closer as the ref throws Yeosang’s hand into the air, the stadium erupting with deafening cheers but you hear Jongho clear as day.

“I just need to have a chat with little lover boy, remind him that the next time he breaks a deal I break your fucking hands. I think it’ll get through now that I know just how valuable you are. Toodles.”

“Choi!” But another hand is pulling you back as he walks towards Yeosang. You feel sick as he wraps an arm around him and the color drains from Yeosang’s face.

~~~

Everyone cleared out an hour ago but you’re still pacing in the locker room, racking your brain for what Yeosang could have done. You had told him to stay away from Jongho, that he was your mess to deal with but all that had clearly fallen on deaf ears.

The door squeals open and you’re on him in an instant.

“The fuck did you do Sang?” You don’t give him time to answer. “Did they do anything to you? What did he even say?”

“Y/n please. I’m fine, let’s… can we just go home?”

“Not ‘til you explain what’s going on. Why Jongho?”

Yeosang sighs and lowers himself onto the cracked leather couch behind you.

“I needed something and I couldn’t ask you for help with it-”

“So you ask that man that’s trying to take away my fathers gym?!”

“You think I don’t know that?! I didn’t want to go behind your back like that but it was the only option!”

“And what was so important that you had to go running to him then?”

Yeosang opens his mouth to answer but he can’t say it, because he knows how stupid it sounds.

“I-I’m sorry.”

“Are you serious? You can’t- you can’t even tell me?”

“I lost it anyway so what does it fucking matter?!” he shouts as he launches himself off the couch. He doesn’t miss the way you stiffen from his sudden outburst.

“It matters,” your jaw tenses as you try to keep your voice steady. “It matters because I need to know whose side you're on.”

“Yours, always yours.”

“So then what was-”

“A ring! It was a ring a-and I knew you’d. You would have really liked it.” His eyes are glued to the floor as his voice drops, the sweet and timid Yeosang you had met three years ago is back and you’re pissed.

Beyond pissed.

Slightly touched but so unbelievably pissed.

“Yeosang.”

“He said he’d give me the ring if I lost tonight's fight.”

“A stupid ring?”

His shoulders tense up “It’s not stupid! God, I know I fucked up okay! But it was important to me, because I felt like I could finally do something for us.”

Your jaw falls slack and he continues.

“You do everything, for me, for the gym, for your father. I just… All I do is show up and fight. A lot would be lost if it wasn’t for you, including me, and I- I-”

“Sangie.”

You call out to him as gently as your anger will allow. You know he hates this, even when it’s just the two of you alone in a room. He still struggles to let down those walls and let it all out. But you’ve known him long enough to pick up on his subtle displays of love. You poke at the side that wasn’t laced with bruises and he lets out a small grunt.

“I love you too.”

He lets out a sigh of relief and presses his lips to your forehead. “Thank you.”

“This doesn’t mean you’re off the hook though, I’m still mad.”

“That’s fair.” he sighs out, a small smile on his face as you hoist his gear bag over your shoulder.

“Why’d you back out of the deal if you knew he had it anyway?”

Yeosang just shrugs, “Someone I love really wanted me to win.”

“Love? Ew gross, I would have just taken the loss.”

He lets out a soft laugh.

“Yeah. Jongho also thought it was stupid.”

“You’re lucky that Jongho let you off with a warning, I’ve seen him do some nasty shit for far less.”

“Well he did flush the ring and he’s paying you a visit on Monday. Just to chat.”

“Just to- Yeosang!”

You tried not to worry too much though, for as much as you hated Jongho he had proven himself to be true to his word.

“Sorry.”

He takes your hand in his as the two of you walk out of the building.

“Why don’t you tell me about this ring.” you tease. “Must have been good if it got you in this much trouble.”

#kang yeosang #yeosang #yeosang x reader #yeosang drabble #yeosang fluff #fighter yeosang #ateez imagines #ateez oneshot #ateez drabbles #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez yeosang #kpop drabbles #kpop imagines #kpop fluff #choi jongho #ateez jongho #toodles

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dokifluffs · 4 years ago

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Dada’s Home | Oikawa, Atsumu

Pairings: Oikawa X Reader (female), Atsumu X Reader (female)

Genre: fluffy domestic haikyuu goodness

Author’s Note: oh to be y/n

Dada’s Home | Kenma, Iwaizumi // Dada’s Home | Ushijima, Tsukishima

Warnings! All post time skip! Spoilers to manga end for Iwa! and also they have kids

OIkawa:

"Yoohoo, Y/N~” Oikawa’s silky voice sounded from the front door, immediately pulling you from the sleep you were about to fall under as he shut the door behind him, stepping out of his shoes and letting everything drop to the benches near the door

Your head that was slowly falling, suddenly jerked upright against the couch, baby monitor still on before you on the table still giving you a view of your baby girl fast asleep in her crib upstairs

“Welcome home, Tooruuuu,” you stretched out every word as well as his name as his smile brightened the room even more as he jogged a little to the couch where you sat

“I’m home, Y/N~” he leaned down, cupping your head as he kissed you all over, repeatedly to your cheeks and forehead, fits of giggles erupting from all his affection tickling you

“And how’s our little angel?” He plopped himself down beside you, wrapping his arm around you to pull you even closer

“She’s sound asleep,” the two of you looked fondly to her through the night vision camera as she laid still, asleep with a bit of her tongue sticking out, a small habit of hers already developed

“Hm, we should sleep too. Thank you for waiting for me, but next time if you’re about to fall asleep, I don’t mind if you go to sleep first,” he smiled gently, leaning close to peck his lips to yours

“I might just take you up on that,” you yawned, almost losing balance as you stood but Tooru steadied you

He smelled so fresh as you walked beside him, you couldn’t wait to sleep

especially since tomorrow was a rare day off where Oikawa didn’t have practice and you had finally convinced him to rest

tomorrow was going to be one of the first days in so long since the three of you would spend the entire day together as a little family

You playfully swung his arm as the two of you held hands, walking up the stairs and down the hall toward the bedroom

He twirled you around as he nudged the bedroom door open with his foot

“Oh my god, I’m so excited to sleep,” you practically threw yourself into the center of the bed, pulling and burying your face into the comforter and pillows, letting the silky fabric rub against your skin

“I’m gonna change, don’t fall asleep without me just yet,” he hummed as disappeared into the closet

“Mmhm,” you could barely keep your eyes open at this point

By the time Oikawa came back out, donning a loose alien tshirt and pajama pants

and you were basically asleep at this point, your body laid on top of the covers

“Y/N, you need to actually get under the blanket,.” he laughed as he got onto the bed beside you, laying on the blanket as well as he draped his legs over you

but just as he did this

sad cries sounded from the baby monitor

“Aw, D/N,” you yawned as you naturally gravitated to her nursery whenever she cried

“Don’t worry, I got her. You get some sleep, alright?” He scooted himself off the edge of the bed as you melted back to your spot. “But asleep beneath the blanket”

He walked down the hall towards the semi-lit nursery as a nightlight cast dim stars and moons across the room’s walls

“Oh, oh oh, my sweet princess, what disrupted your precious sleep, baby?” Oikawa carefully lifted his daughter from the crib, his presence immediately able to soothe her cries

“Shh, it’s okay, papa’s here,” he chimed quietly as he swayed side to side, wiping her tears away as her cries got reduced to sniffles

“Papa’s here,” Oikawa repeated, his voice no louder than a whisper as his daughter leaned close, her tiny hands clinging onto his shirt as he rubbed his hand in a small circular pattern on her back

her small head resting on his shoulder, her short brown hair that matched Oikawa’s, tickled his jawline and cheek

“My sweet angel,” he hummed as he just absorbed this moment

Atsumu:

Atsumu let out a deep yawn as he entered through the sliding door of the side door the two of you mainly used, slipping out of his non-practice shoes, feeling the cold floor through his fresh socks before he slipped into his slippers, scattered around the smaller shoes of your guys’ children

Glancing at the time as he stepped into the main hallway, he was glad he showered back at the gym now since it meant now that he could go straight to sleep

Or so he thought as he plopped his bag down to the side near the coatrack in the corner of the hallway near the front door yet instead of being met with a dark house, the lights were still on

“Didn’t Y/N say she was goin’ ta sleep?” He scratched the back of his neck as he pulled out his phone, rereading the last messages the two of you sent to each other but he was right

That’s what what your last message had read, so why were the lights still o-

And then he saw it as he reached for the light switch, turning off the light to the main hall

“Hey, baby,” his voice was gravelly as the little nickname for his little girl as he locked eyes with his princess

He shuffled his feet over the wooden floors as he walked around the couch where you laid fast asleep, half a blanket draped over your legs as your son laid on your chest, fast asleep with his cheek squished to your collar

“Hm, lucky,” he thought to himself, envying his little son as he knelt down, nuzzling the back of his index finger to the infant’s cheek

You slept peacefully, body and face completely relaxed in the couch cushions, one of your hands draped lightly over the little boy’s back

But before Atsumu could continue giving any more admiration, his finger was suddenly latched by his little girl as she babbled, whining for not having her fair share of attention from her beloved dad

“Shh, I got ya,” he smirked as he plucked her, from her spot not he couch as she wore her little onesie, holding her beneath her bottom, over his sides

She continued her little babbles as she looked up to him with wondrous eyes yet he looked at her with the stars in his eyes as all he could see was her as he held her

“It’s sleepy time, princess,” his voice was even softer as he brushed his hand over her soft, silky hair

He knelt down as she let out a small yawn, resting her head on his shoulder

“Mama,” he rest his hand on your arm, his skin rough meeting yours

He gave you a light squeeze, shaking your arm, rubbing his thumb repeatedly. “Mama,” he called, his voice the slightest bit louder but careful to not wake your son

You took a deep breath in as your eyes cracked open, your eyes burning now that they were open when they should’ve been closed

“Welcome home,” you whispered as you carefully sat yourself up, Atsumu’s hand on your back, helping you up

“Let’s head upstairs and sleep,” he stood, bending down to kiss the crown of your head as you repositioned your hold on your son

The two of you switched off the lights, making your way up the dark stairwell as you tiredly walked up the stairs, anticipating the feel of the bed sinking beneath your weights with Atsumu by your side

You each held a twin as he walked behind, holding his daughter as the warmth transferring from his body into hers began to lull her to sleep The two of you brought them into their rooms, setting them in their cribs on the opposite sides of the room, tucking them in

You leaned on the edge of your son’s crib as memories from the day they were born, from the day the two of you brought them home flooded your mind until a pair of hands snaking around your waist pulled your attention back to the present

“Bedtime for us too,” Atsumu’s voice was velvety in your ear, his chest rumbled against your back as he spoke

He led you by the hand, the door closing behind, his hold never leaving you and it never did the entire night

~~~~~ Thanks for reading! Masterlist for more! Please do not repost anywhere else!

Tags (let me know if you wanna be tagged for all my haikyuu posts): @makeusfreefromthisfandom @yams046 @mazey-chan @sunboikyo00 @kara-grayson04 @fortheloveofbakugo @tsumtsumsemi @1-800-wholesome @yamagucci @realityisoftendisapointing @plantisnotplant @pink-panda-pancakes @differentballooncollection @osamusamusamu@therainroguefanfiction @euphorihan @turquoiselace @macaronnv @oxmaddy @mrkoala4prsdnt @curiouslilbeast @plantisnotplant@therestless101 @abcdaichi @oyasenpai @kaaidalupita @lovinnoya @wisepandaslimeland @killuaking @kattykurr @bbymilkbread @tsumtsumland @suunikimchi @woah-there-cowboy-or-cowgirl @amandahh626 @nabisonyeo94 @wntrmn @dai-tsukki-desu @peteunderoos @ohyoumakemelive @aka-a-shii @shinhiromi @wompwomphq @lollypop-lam @isentsworld @blue-melody @u-wakatoshii @moondriplets @lovinnoya @yuueisteria @humanitysbiggestsimp @cjphoenix135 @inarizaki-captain @closetfurrytsukishima @chibichab @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @kuroosbixh @lavearchives @sweet-sour-devil-ish @daichis-kitty @creepyproxies @itsmarziapei @skyh20 @yehetstudies @that-chick212 @proherotheflamehashira @celestair @katiea03

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duskholland · 4 years ago

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ok but what about going to the gym with boyfriend!tom (i always workout alone and i have my gym crushes here and there) and Tom gets so worked up about it and when she notices she begins teasing him.........and smut happens 👀

obsessed with this.... i love a gym/post-workout moment... nsfw! minors dni <3

✧———clearing out my askbox!———✧

smut warnings ↠ semi-public sex, shower sex, hair pulling (ft brief pain kink), fingering, unprotected sex, cumshot.

——————

“Another five, darling. There you go. Keep going.”

Sweat prickles along your hairline, your face pulsing with hot blood. With each burpee, you feel your heartbeat quicken and your body get more tired, but you aren’t about to give up. Not with Tom, your boyfriend, poised in front of you, jumping up and down in sync with you.

He’s ridiculously attractive, even when he’s bossing you around in the gym. It’s been the cause of a few teasing comments from him already, as he’s caught you out taking breaks to ogle him. In your defence, it’d be hard not to look.

Tom is in a pair of shorts and a tight black tank top, his biceps out and flexing every time he swings his arms around. His hair lies over his head in messy heaps, and his cheeks lie flushed with a healthy glow. Adrenaline looks good on Tom, and you can’t even be annoyed that he’s pushing you to go further because it’s so attractive coming from him.

“Fuck yeah,” he says finally. “We’re done.”

You finish your set and release a sound of relief, sagging forward and falling into his embrace. Tom laughs, his chest heaving as he holds you in a loose, sweaty hug. His neck is hot with perspiration, but you don’t hesitate to curl closer, savouring the brief moment of respite in his arms.

“You’re so mean,” you whine. You finally fall back, just to bend over and grab your water bottle from the spot on the mat. You take a few deep swallows of cool water before Tom grabs the bottle from your hands and shoves it past his own lips. “I’m so tired.”

Tom hums, jaw tensing as he swallows down mouthfuls of the water. “You’ll feel good, though. All those positive endorphins,” he says, grinning slyly. “I want to do some weights before we go, but I think that’s enough cardio for today.”

You make a loud sound of agreement. “Definitely,” you agree. You wave your hand at the exercise mats. “I’ll just do some stretches and wait for you.”

He nods and darts forwards to kiss your cheek before letting you go. “Okay, love,” he says. “I’ll just be over there.”

The gym is fairly empty this morning, and you’re able to find a spot on the edge of the exercise mats without much trouble. As you sit down on the squashy sprung mat, you pull your arms above your head and start to stretch out your shoulders. The weights station is directly opposite the mat zone, so you’re able to watch Tom as he browses the weights trolley before picking off a large dumbbell.

You find yourself biting your lower lip as you watch him sit on the edge of a bench and start to pump it. Tom spots you staring, and you watch him smirk. He wiggles his brows before sitting up a little straighter to flex his muscles with more vigour. If you weren’t in public, you’d growl, the sight of his pulsing arms, flushed face and ripped figure making a hot flush travels out from your centre. As Tom licks his lips and intensifies his smirk, you find yourself shivering.

Two can play at this game.

You stand from the mat, biting your lip as a devious thought tickles you. Meeting his eyes, you raise a brow in question before turning around and facing the wall. You can feel Tom’s gaze on your figure, burning intently as you start to do some squats. The exercise is his weakness, especially when you do it, and you’re cruel for exploiting that information, but you find yourself smirking as you continue to drop low, arching your back and taking your time.

To any casual observer, it’d just look like you’re very attentively exercising, but to Tom, you know you’re driving him mad.

There are mirrors set into the wall, and you watch as Tom abandons his exercise in favour of sitting there to watch you, jaw tensing. You meet his gaze through the reflection and flash a teasing smile, only for it to melt into fulfilment as you watch Tom mutter something to himself then stand up quickly. He hurries to put away the weight before picking up his phone and stalks towards you, his lean figure stacked with sweaty muscles.

He lingers behind you for a moment, eyes taking you in as you do a few low squats. Through the mirror, you can see his nostrils flare, his eyes shifting dark and heady. When you finish your set, you straighten up before stepping back a few paces to press your back against Tom’s front. He mutters a low, “fuck,” and you feel his member, quickly hardening as his crotch rubs against your ass.

“Darling,” Tom mutters, scooping your hair out of the way until he’s able to kiss your neck. Your skin is hot and sweaty, but he doesn’t hesitate to nibble up and down the side of your throat. “‘M so hard right now.”

You shiver as he laps over the sensitive skin of your neck. “Do you want to go home?”

Tom grumbles into your ear. “I can’t wait that long,” he complains, voice low and accented. “You look so hot, love. I’ve got a stiffy.”

Biting your lip, you turn around and take his hand. “Well,” you tease, “have you got anything in mind?”

He nods his head. “Yep,” Tom says. “Follow me.”

Tom takes you down to the unisex changing room, and you catch onto his idea as he points at some of the large shower cubicles. They’re each caged in with frosted glass, and like the gym had been, the room is unusually empty. There are a few people milling around, but no one else is in the shower room.

You bite your lip as you look at him. “Really?” you ask, but you’re already pulling off your shirt. Tom stands across the bench from you, similarly jerking off his tank top.

His eyes sparkle. “Fuck yeah,” he growls. “Did I tell you how hot you look in those leggings?”

After a little bit of negotiating with your clothes, the towels and the lockers, Tom pulls you into the shower cubicle. He turns on the water before pushing you up against the wall, caging you in with an arm planted on either side of your head as his lips find yours. You’re both naked now, your clothes discarded back in the locker, and you have to bite back a loud moan when you feel Tom’s hard cock slide to rest between the soft flesh of your thighs.

“Shhhh,” he murmurs, speaking into your ear. Tom pulls one arm away from your head and snakes his hand between your legs. He smirks as his index finger slips between your folds, rolling over your clit before shifting down to tease your entrance. You’re already wet, your body hot and aching from the time spend watching him work out upstairs, and you feel your hole pulsing and spasming against his finger as he curls it into your heat. “Anyone could walk in, baby... you’ll need to be really quiet.”

“Okay,” you manage. Your head falls back against the cool tiles of the back wall as you part your legs, allowing Tom to feed two of his fingers into your pulsing cunt. His lips close over your neck as he works you open, cock still brushing up against your thighs. You have to swallow a moan when he adds his thumb to your clit. “Shit,” you whine.

You reach up and run your hands over his shoulders, momentarily getting distracted by the muscles on his form. Tom’s been working out consistently for the past six months, and the evidence can be found in the definition of his shoulders and biceps. His muscles are so firm, and as you appreciate his strength with your hands, you feel yourself clench around his digits.

Tom smirks, leaning up to nose at your cheek. “Are you okay there, lovie? You seem a little distracted.”

You scrunch the tip of your nose as you twist a hand into Tom’s hair. His strands are saturated with droplets from the shower, and he’s still grinning as you bring him closer to kiss him.

“Fuck me,” you mutter against his lips. You gasp softly as he curves his fingers up towards your stomach, the tips of his slender digits caressing your g-spot until you whimper. You feel so slick, the space between your thighs coated with your arousal. “Do it hard. From behind.”

Tom licks his lips. He captures your mouth in a final kiss as he pulls away from you. An annoyed whimper slips from your lips as your cunt throbs emptily, but your mood is soon to pick up as he turns you in his arms. With his back pressed to yours, you can feel Tom’s erect cock, standing proud against your lower spine.

“You’ll let me hit it from the back?” he mutters, nipping at your neck. Tom’s large hands swoop around to cup your breasts, his fingers toying with your nipples as you gasp.

“Yeah,” you say. You bend over, reaching out to hold onto the metal control taps of the shower as you spread your legs and arch your back. You look back over your shoulder, eyes darkening as you watch Tom situate himself behind you, pumping his flushed cock in his hand as his jaw tenses. He curses as he meets your eyes. “Hard and fast,” you request. “Please.” You’re buzzing from the endorphins from your workout, and you find yourself craving your boyfriend’s firm touch.

Tom nods his head. A focused expression finds his face as he steps closer, resting one hand on your ass as the other stays wrapped around his length. You bite back a soft moan as he slides his tip between your folds, teasing your clit for a second before guiding his bulging crown up to your entrance.

“Are you ready?” he asks, voice barely audible above the stream of water pounding down beside you.

You bite your lower lip. “Fuck yeah,” you mutter. “Give it to me.”

Tom slips into you with ease, and your eyes drop shut as your head falls forward.

“Oh god yeah,” Tom mutters, burying himself deep within your heat. You bite your lower lip to muffle your cries as his thick cock presses your walls apart. “You’re so tight, darling. Oh fuck. Cunt feels like fucking paradise… Always so snug around me, isn’t it?”

You’re glad for the loud stream of water and the garish pop tunes that stream through the air because the noises of skin slapping against skin are audible to you. Your fingers wrap around the cool metal of the shower controls as you cling for dear life, your breathing laboured as Tom thrusts into you like a demon. As he shifts both hands down to grasp at your hips, the engorged head of his cock brushes up against your g-spot. Your back arches when he hits against your spongy back wall, causing your heat to tighten.

“Oh fuck,” Tom murmurs from behind you, his voice sharp and breathless. He squeezes your waist as he continues to pull you back to meet him, each rut of his hips against yours propelling him deeper. After a while, he shifts one hand away, hot fingertips dancing up your spine before burying into your hair. As Tom tugs on your strands, the ache in your skull makes you whimper. “Touch your clit, darling,” he asks, keeping his voice quiet.

When he releases your hair, you follow his instructions blindly, unable to think of anything beyond how good it feels to get railed like this. It’s clear that both of you are riding on the highs of your workout, Tom’s pace brutal as he spends all his leftover energy on you. You’re willing to take it, your greedy cunt revelling in the bruising pace he’s set and basking in the glow of his length stretching you out so well.

Mixing in with the sounds of water thrumming against the tiled floor comes the sound of your puckering heat, clinging to his cock each time he buries himself in you. Quiet expletives tumble from your lips as you get to the edge, unable to vocalise your enjoyment but instead falling into the rhythm of pushing back against Tom every time he snaps his hips. With the way his fingers grow needier, holding at your hips with a slippery grip that only grows messier, you can tell he’s just as close as you.

It doesn’t surprise you at all when Tom suddenly gasps, then you feel his cock start to throb inside you as his rhythm falters. The sensation of him shooting his seed into your desperate heat makes you spiral over the edge. You grip the bar of the shower tighter as you bite into the top of your arm to muffle your moans.

Tom slowly evens out his pace, continuing to fuck into you until you stand up a little straighter. He runs his hands over your ass and waist before stepping back, the discomfort of him pulling out quickly smoothed away when he gently coaxes you up and into his arms.

“So good, darling,” he whispers, holding you to his chest. His lips come down over the side of your face as his hands play with your wet hair. When you shiver, Tom walks both of you back, helping you into the stream of warm water. “You always do so well for me. Best girl, aren’t you? My best girl.”

He’s cooing and gentle, holding you with love in his arms and tenderness shining in his gaze. When you’re more stable, you pull away from his chest, feeling beads of his cum dripping down your inner thighs as you lean up to steal a kiss from his lips.

“Love you,” you mumble, folding into his arms.

Tom’s hands gently caress your spine, and you can feel him smile against your lips. He squeezes your ass with the palms of his hands before releasing you.

“Love you too,” he says. He reaches behind you and pumps the soap dispenser, lips brushing the top of your nose as he runs the lathering liquid over your wet form. “I’ll clean you up now,” he promises.

You bite your lip as you look up at him, blinking innocently. “You made a mess,” you say, thinking about your pussy, still clenching around droplets of his seed.

Tom arches a brow, eyes momentarily dipping down to your legs. A shadow of a smirk crosses his lips a moment later, then he’s pressing them back against your ear.

“Well,” he purrs, tone heavy and suggestive, “I think I know what I can do to help clean you up…”

#this is 2.5k !#tom holland smut #tom holland x reader smut #tom holland blurb #tom holland smut blurb #tom holland fanfic #myblurbs #tomblurbs #tom.filth #q

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kiridarling · 4 years ago

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𝔽𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘: fem!reader, top!kats though some switchy themes, competitive sex, enemies to lovers, daddy kink, begging, blowjobs, no quirks

𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 3.3k

ℙ𝕣𝕖𝕧𝕚𝕖𝕨:

Katsuki Bakugou is the textbook definition of a brat.

It’s always been easy for you to get straight A’s—you’re a fast learner and a creative problem solver, solidifying your spot at the top of the class, the number one. You switch schools just to find someone equally as bratty and merciless as you and burn to do nothing but shove him off his cocky pedestal.

But. A brat doesn’t go down with a fight, and boy oh boy, is Katsuki Bakugou bratty.

OR; Where Katsuki loves to get under your skin, so you shut him up with a kiss.

—ᴛʜɪs ɪs ᴀɴ 𝟷𝟾+ ʙʟᴏɢ. ᴍɪɴᴏʀs ᴅɴɪ

“Katsuki, Y/N, please stay after class.”

The murmurs from the class only heighten the suspense as you eye the bane of your existence standing next to you. With explosive ash-blond hair and foxy red eyes to match, you’ve never met someone else so annoying.

Either way, your shirt and apron are soaked to the bone, and you hope Katsuki burns under your glare through the plastic of the safety goggles.

“And Y/N?” Your teacher says exasperatedly, “Please change your shirt.”

You look down to reveal your shirt is nothing but see-through, though the apron helps cover your most indecent parts.

When you return from the bathroom, opting for the gym shirt you were planning to bring home to wash anyway, Katsuki’s the only one left in the classroom, a permanent scowl on his face while sweeping up the glass from you two’s little lab fiasco that wound you here in the goddamn first place.

He only stops once he realizes you aren’t going to help clean up, feet propped up on the desk in front of you as you scroll through your Twitter feed. Ooh, it looks like Hawks has a ne—

Your thought process tire-screeches when your phone is rudely snatched out of your hand. You pout, grabbing for your phone—but unfortunately for you, Katsuki’s too fucking tall.

“Hey! Give it back, you asshole!”

There’s no use in jumping, so you opt for balancing on your desk instead to pluck it out of his hands—though something tells you he let you grab it. “Dick.”

“Get to fuckin’ work,” Katsuki grumbles with an unusual taciturn-ness. “I don’t wanna be here longer than I gotta be.”

“Then be quick, pretty boy.” Now that you have your entertainment device again, it’s much easier to ignore his presence. “Chop chop.”

“Funny that you thought your dumbass was getting out of this,” Katsuki grouses before shoving the broom he was using into your chest. “I got the fuckin’ tables, just sweep. You can do that much, can’t you?”

Rolling your eyes, you snatch the broom from him and debate beating him in the back with it. “Whatever, smartass.”

Katsuki Bakugou is the textbook definition of a brat.

But. A brat doesn’t go down with a fight, and boy oh boy, is Katsuki Bakugou bratty.

Katsuki’s whistling. It’s on purpose—to annoy you specifically, just because you know he likes to get under your skin, and he knows how easy it is for him to do it. And you find yourself falling for his bullshit every. Fucking. Time.

“Can you shut up?”

A satisfied smirk creeps across Katsuki’s face when you finally crack. “No.”

You assumed as much. Sighing, you pray Katsuki’s high-pitched mouth noises will fade into the background if you focus on sweeping up the glass that isn’t there anymore.

He doesn’t.

“Shut. Up.” Katsuki’s a shitty whistler. His lips are too dry, and it’s mostly just fucking air, but he insists anyways, walking your way with his hands tucked and lips pursed, blowing his disgusting breath your way.

So naturally, you kiss him. To shut him up.

Though you think you might’ve broken him because he pulls back with this semi-dazed look on his face before blinking towards his feet. Your eyes follow.

No. Fucking. Way.

“You’re hard,” you say as a simple matter of fact at first, letting it sink it. Katsuki’s like, full mast, beanpole hard, and you find yourself cackling at the revelation more than you should. “You—really hard holy shit, you fu—”

“If you don’t shut your goddamn mouth…” Katsuki growls, fists clenching at his sides. His face is nothing short of beet red and shaking with so much embarrassment; you can’t help but feel a little bit bad. “I haven’t...had fuckin’ time, okay—stop lookin—”

“Awe, you don’t have to be ashamed.” You giggle, waving him off in favor of exfoliating the floor with the broom again. He’s hard. He’s hard, and you did it—Nah, you’re chilling. Not freaking out. “Katsuki Bakugou is a bottom. There’s no shame in that.”

“Oi,” Katsuki growls, hands curling into fists. “I might be hard, but I’m no goddamn bottom.”

You snort, unashamed (okay, a little bit, but he doesn’t have to know) in the way you rake your eyes up and down his body before saying. “Sure, uh-huh. Which is exactly why you’re stiffer than a board from an argument and one kiss. ”

“Two words, brat. Pent up,” Katsuki dares to step closer with that patronizing tone, lips dangerously close to where they were before.

“Liar,” you bravely challenge, sticking your chest out. You’ve never been one to go down without a fight.

Katsuki only seems to burn brighter at this, snatching you by the jaw for a firm peck. You snort in response.

“Not a fuckin’ bottom,” Katsuki growls into your mouth. As if that kiss really made a difference.

“Yeah?” You’re a little breathy, but from the way you’re pressed up against the desk, it’s a bit hard not to be. “Prove it, then.”

Katsuki makes a sound akin to a moan before his big hands are around your waist, twirling you around until your hands are pressed against the desk, ass out in the open for Katsuki to do whatever he pleases. To say you dislike this position would be a lie, but you stick by it anyway, even when he flips up your skirt to deliver a firm slap on the ass.

“Ow, you dick!” You whip your head around and glare his way with fury, but he seems to pay no mind, mouth dipping to nip at your shoulder.

“Oh, it’s not that bad, brat. Stop fuckin’ complain’.”

You shut up, but only because his hand lands on your ass again, a hot sting bursting from his palm. You shiver.

“This isn’t fa—fuck.” He shoves two fingers in your tight pussy, completely freezing your train of thought in favor of fooling with that sensitive spot in between your legs.

Katsuki laughs lowly as you struggle to hold yourself back. In your defense, you happen to be a bit pent up yourself, and Katsuki’s unnecessarily skilled with just two fingers, pumping and curling until he hits that sweet spot that makes your legs quiver.

“What was that, brat?”

“You’re a fucking dick,” you turn to spit, though you doubt the blush on your face is working in your favor. Either way, Katsuki isn’t having it, and his face hardens as his hand cracks down on your ass again. This time it jolts the table.

“Y’know what?” You hear Katsuki say behind you and the warmth his hands leave only for the sound of a belt buckle to ring in the room. “I’m gonna put that big ass mouth of yours to good use. Turn the fuck around.”

You don’t fucking know why you listen, but you do.

“On your knees.”

With a slight sigh, your knees kiss the cool classroom floor. It’s slightly uncomfortable, and your knees have never been the greatest, but you might as well get this o—

Holy shit. He’s hung.

“Big, isn’t it?” Katsuki says with a grin, fist working the head of his cock as he enjoys the view of you on your knees. “Now suck, slut.”

With a roll of your eyes, you lick from the base to the tip, loving the way that cocky grin slips off his face a bit. You repeat the action a few more times, loving the way he shivers until he gets impatient. Then you swallow as much as you can.

“Fuck,” Katsuki’s chokes out moan is much more attractive than you anticipated, sending electric shivers down your spine. Wrapping a hand around the base of his cock, you pump what you can’t fit in your mouth, and his grip on the desk tightens.

“Shit—look at you, taking me so goddamn—s-so goddamn well.” He curls over you to say, knuckles stark white and bending the wood of the desk. You know he’s about to crack, but that only propels your determination further, your free hand reaching to grab him by the balls.

Katsuki lets out nothing short of a moan at that, causing you to open your eyes to a very, very pretty sight. A strawberry-faced Katsuki Bakugou with his ash-blond eyebrows knit, pretty pink lip tucked underneath his front two teeth. You moan, and he shivers, and you’ve never found it so hard to disguise a shit-eating grin while sucking dick.

But despite your unrelenting gaze, you seem to miss the hand snaking from the desk to underneath your chin, Katsuki’s thumb and index squeezing your cheeks around his cock and ultimately making your job harder. You suppress an indignant growl when he hits the back of your throat, tears springing to your eyes.

“I’m gonna cum down your throat,” Katsuki rasps, voice noticeably wrecked. He needs to take a moment to lick his lips—the apex between your thighs likes the sight of that very much. “And you’re going to swallow every—fuck—goddamn drop. Got it?”

You moan in response, eyelids fluttering. Katsuki lets out a breathy moan at that, the hand around your jaw tightening before his hips stutter with a gasp.

“C-Cummi—”

Katsuki spills down your throat with a broken moan, eyes glued on your spluttering figure because he comes a lot. But you swallow it all, licking whatever mess you didn’t catch off your fingers—the ash-blond watches it all with a satisfied hum.

“Good girl.”

You shiver.

“C’mon. Up.” Though you don’t expect him to, he helps you onto your unsteady feet. Your hands feel tiny in his calloused palms, fragile, and in a flash, your hands are back on the table, and those calloused palms are caressing the tender swell of your ass.

Katsuki swipes a finger down your slit, chuckling at the whimper you fail to hide.

“So fuckin’ wet,” he groans, dipping his nose into your neck as his body encompasses your own. “And it’s all for me, isn’t it, brat?”

You earn a slap on the ass when you don’t respond, but in your defense, Katsuki’s rubbing messy little circles on your clit, and it’s getting you more riled up than it should. A breathy “yeah” is all you manage to squeak out, rendering the second spank unfair.

“Try again, brat.”

The difference in pet names makes your head spinning the best way. Your chest shudders with an exhale, body strung tight from being suspended in lust for so long. “Y-Yes, Daddy.”

You know it’s the answer Katsuki’s looking for when his chest rumbles against your spine, and the hand between your legs speeds up. He stuffs two fingers in your pussy and coos when you moan at the white-hot gunshot of pleasure and keel over, head hung between your shoulders as you let him do whatever he damn well pleases.

“Good fuckin’ brat, takin’ my fingers so goddamn well,” Katsuki grunts, and you imagine his eyebrows just as tightly knit as before. “Gotta get you nice and ready for my cock. Can’t wreck your pretty pussy from just a few thrusts, can I?”

And fuck, aren’t you wrecked enough?

“Shit,” you choke when Katsuki’s fingers curl, so like the asshole he is, he does it again. And again, until your thighs are numb and you’re sure you’ve made a proper mess all over his hands. Patience wearing thin, you snap.

“The hell are you waiting for?”

You loathe the way you sound too far gone to be complaining, bent over in an empty classroom with your sworn enemy knuckle-deep in your pussy, but the fact that he’s not balls deep feels like the most urgent issue out of the two.

“Depends,” Katsuki jeers, fingers jabbing at the ever-tightening knot growing in the pit of your stomach. “Whaddya want?”

“What?” You laugh in your confused arousal.

“What,” he repeats, sharper this time, “do you want?”

It takes a second for it to click. Oh. Oh, Katsuki’s asking for consent.

That’s...that’s actually kind of cute.

But you don’t have the time to analyze the heat blooming in your chest because your mouth moves much quicker than your brain does. “Your fuckin—fuck me, you stupid a—”

You yelp when you’re flipped onto the table. Katsuki yanks your thighs apart like you’re his next meal, pink tongue wetting his bottom lip with burning red eyes trained on all of you. The look he gives you is uncharacteristically soft, hypnotized from following the dips and curves of your body, and you don’t like how it makes you feel.

“Condom, idiot.”

Katsuki blinks himself out of his strange trance, looking your way for a second before huffing, disappearing for a moment to (hopefully) grab one from his bag. “I was gonna anyway, dumbass. Geez.”

You snort at his petulance, but every drop of your ego evaporates when the ash-blond reappears, pumping his thick cock with a blue plastic square held between his teeth. Even though you saw it less than fifteen minutes ago, his cock is nothing short of pretty, and you find yourself mesmerized by the way his head looks in his fist.

“Like what you see?” Katsuki’s eyes are on you, eyebrow raised, and tone is cocky, and it’s annoying to think you caused such a reaction. You look away with a huff.

“Just get on with it.”

Katsuki clicks his tongue, finally rolling the rubber on. You shiver the moment the head of his cock kisses your entrance, and he firmly snatches your chin to make sure your eyes are on him.

“I’m gonna fuck the brat outta you,” he growls, yet somehow you have the gut to smile right back.

“Bold statement, you laz—fuck!”

Katsuki’s balls deep in one thrust. You squeal, and he bites his lip, both pairs of eyes trained on where you two are connected. He doesn’t dare move again, thank God.

“Asshole,” you grumble, eyes glaring daggers at the man towering over you. Katsuki scowls.

“Y’know, you’re awfully bold for someone so full of cock,” he pants, bracing both hands on the edges of the table behind your head. You open your mouth to bite back because you aren’t one to go down without a fight, but the moment Katsuki’s hips buck? All thoughts fly out the window.

“Tight,” Katsuki whimpers behind a bitten lip, “You—Y/N—you’re really fucki—shit.”

You laugh at his mottled sentence, but you’d be lying if you said you were doing any better. You feel both pleasantly full and unbearably horny, the weight of his rocking hips jolting both you and the table. Katsuki seems focused, eyes set and face twisted in concentration.

“Good,” he grunts. At first, you think he’s telling you, but the silent plea behind his eyes tells a different story.

“Y-Yeah,” you moan, shuddering when he hits that spot. “Really good.”

That’s the spur on the horse, and Katsuki readjusts his grip before pistoning into you, tilting your hips off the desk for a better angle. And boy, is it a better angle.

The dam in your gut is terribly close to bursting, and you want—no, need it to, so you reach in between your legs to mess with your clit before Katsuki slaps it away. You whimper uselessly, moaning the second he replaces the vacancy with a finger of his own.

“Oh, you liked that, didn’t ya, brat?” Katsuki moans, applying more pressure on your clit just to make you squirm. “You gonna cum? Gonna fuckin’ cum all over my cock like the dirty little girl you are?”

His words send a shiver of pure ecstasy up your spine, and you nod fervently, the desk creaking under both of your weight. “Y-Yea—yeah, I’m gonna—”

Katsuki stills.

He fucking stills.

As you suppress the urge to scream, Katsuki lands a fat slap to the top of your pussy, clit throbbing upon impact. Asshole.

“Then beg.”

You whine, though you’re not sure if it’s from his voice or the twitch of his cock. Beg? Oh, your dignity is really taking a hit today.

After clearing your throat and shifting uncomfortably, you take a shot in the dark, “Please uh, fuck me?”

Katsuki clicks his tongue, and though the thumb on your clit starts to move ever so slightly, it’s surely not enough.

“Try again, brat. C’mon,” Katsuki’s hips jostle to give you a bit of an incentive. “I know you can do better than that.”

“M-Make me cum.” You retry, firmer this time though your face is beet red, “Please.”

The look on Katsuki’s face is indiscernible as he blinks down at your trembling figure, long enough to make you squirm under his gaze. Then the familiarly annoying sly smile returns.

“Good,” is all Katsuki says before his hips return to life, and he drives into you with everything he has, quickly bringing you closer to the edge than you were before. “Good fuckin’ brat, takin’ me so goddamn well.”

You moan, grabbing for his big shoulders as you scramble for something to hold onto. Adrenaline rushes your veins, and though you know you need one more thing to finally push you off the edge, you don’t know what that thing i—

“Cum with me,” Katsuki pants into your ear, eyes fluttering when your pussy spasms, “Fuckin—make a fuckin’ mess, all over m—”

But you don’t hear much after that because your orgasm rips through your body, hearing ducking and eyes squeezing shut as the tremors wrack through your body. Katsuki’s completion is marked by the stutter of his hips followed by a breathy moan and a grunt before he collapses on top of you—both of you wholly spent.

When he peels his body off of you, you’re sure you look no more spent than he does. Katsuki’s all rosy-cheeked and glossy with sweat, ash-blond hair a hot mess as he slides into the chair to catch his breath. You do the same, limp as a noodle as you stare at the ceiling.

“So,” you say, killing the silence after a painful five-minute stretch. Katsuki looks at you from his blown-out gaze on the wall.

“So,” he responds uselessly. You sigh. What did you expect him to say? Ask you out on a date? In all the time you’ve known him, Katsuki’s never dated, let alone had a girlfriend. You don’t understand why you were awaiting something after that, either. It’s annoying.

After adjusting your uniform, you hop off the desk, ready to wallow in whatever self-inflicted misery you’ve built. Though your legs aren’t prepared, apparently, and you almost crumple underneath the weight.

You would’ve if Katsuki’s hands didn’t catch you by the waist.

“Careful,” he grunts, voice much too close to your ear for your liking. You pull away first.

“Thanks.” You nod, silently noting that he’s tucked his dick away and pulled his pants back on sometime in the five-minute silence. You didn’t notice.

The silence returns as you pick your bag up off the floor. Katsuki watches you, carmine eyes nearly pinning you in place. You push through the paralysis somehow, though, eyes taking a quick sweep before deeming the classroom cleaner than it was before trying your best to conceal your speed-walk to the exit. Should you say bye, or would that be weird?

“Oi.”

You freeze, hand on the cool metal knob, and so close to freedom. You have half a mind to slam the door open and sprint down the hall. You don’t, though. But you don’t look at him either.

“Y’know I don’t do this bullshit with anyone, right?”

And, shit. You think you may know what that means. But if you misunderstood, that’d be really awkward.

When you don’t respond, Katsuki keeps going with a heavy sigh. You hear him stand, but he doesn’t dare cross over. “I—goddammit. Fuck it, fuck it.”

Katsuki sounds like he’s hyping himself up more than anything else, and you hate to say you find it endearing. You pull your hand away from the doorknob. Maybe you’ll hear Katsuki out—you suppose can deal with his bratty attitude for a little bit longer.

#— 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈 #bnha smut #katsuki bakugo #bakugou smut #bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha #mha #y/n #xreader #boku no hero academia #my hero academia

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glowingbadger · 4 years ago

Note

Can I pls get some Yuri and Felix modern au with reader nsfw and SFW content?

I'm so hyped to work on the handful of modern AU requests I have lol let's do iiiiit~ Oh, and if you want the base premise I had in mind for each of these lovelies, Felix is here and Yuri is here <3

Yuri, Felix x GN Reader - modern au headcanons

SFW (nsfw below the cut)

Yuri:

- dating Yuri is honestly a lot of fun. He'll always have some hole-in-the-wall restaurant he wants to try with you, or a strange, artsy little shop he's been meaning to look into. Plus, at half of the places you go to together, he "knows a guy" who gets you a great deal, or a reservation when they were supposedly fully booked, or some other perk. He somehow always knows of a new art exhibit, or a classic movie screening somewhere nearby, so you'll never be without some way to spend an evening together.

- That said, he can come across as flippant and non-committal. While he's certainly flirtatious, he's not going to drop the word "love" for quite some time into the relationship, and you may find yourself wondering from time to time how serious he really is about you. But the more time goes on, the more you'll grow to understand that this is more of a subconscious self-defense for him. With time and understanding, he'll find ways to assure you of his commitment- but he's always going to need a level of freedom and independence.

- One point of reassurance is that Yuri's friends (our other Ashen Wolves) can immediately tell how different he is around you compared to anyone else. They have a hard time putting it into words, but they'll all assure you that, make no mistake, Yuri absolutely adores you. There's a certain soft, warm smile that he only wears when he talks about you, and he fusses about your comfort and safety in a way he's never come close to with another. Plus, he may have blackmailed or threatened a few people who were rude or forward with you... not that you'll ever find out about this.

Felix:

- he's very cat-like in how he chooses to show his affection. He'll almost never verbally express it, and to many, he comes across as cold. But if you know what to look for, the signs are incredibly obvious. The mere fact that he goes out of his way to just be near you, the fact that he'll jump to your defense the moment someone dares to give you a hard time, small gifts that he'll give with a carefully neutral, "It's not a big deal, it just seemed like the kinda thing you'd like."

- Once you've been together for a bit though, he's extremely physically affectionate in private- only in private, mind you. Alone in your dorm or apartment, he's very cuddly, holding you close to him at any chance he gets and resting his chin on your shoulder, or nuzzling against your neck. Sometimes he doesn't even realize he's doing it, but he'll run a hand along your back or your waist when he moves by you, or his thumb will rub little circles along your thigh when you're sitting together. Don't call him out on it though- he'll lurch away immediately and be too shy to touch you for an hour or two.

- His friends definitely know he's developed a thing for someone very early on. He tends to be notorious among his friends for never checking his phone or responding to messages, and when he does respond, it's in five words or fewer. Once he's started getting close to you though, he keeps his phone in his hand while he's hanging out with the other Blue Lions, glancing down at the screen every ten seconds, and completely impossible to communicate with when he's thinking of what to send you when you do message him.

NSFW 18+ v

Yuri:

- I feel like I keep coming back to this with Yuri, but he's a big fan of teasing, or even outright sex in semi-public and risky locations. He'll absolutely finger/jerk you off in the back of a movie theater (or traditional theatre, for that matter), leaning in to murmur against your ear, "go ahead and moan for me, babe- show everyone here how good I make you feel..." He'll also totally send you lewd photos of his body when he knows you're with friends or family.

- Yuri owns an impressive range of toys, and can't wait to try out every single one with you. You're a sinfully gorgeous sight working a fleshlight or a cockring down onto his length, and he gets a bit of a "corrupting" thrill out of introducing you to something you've never tried before. Goddess help you if you have a class with him- he'll push a small vibrator inside of you before a lecture one day, then sit a little ways away from you and fiddle with the remote in his pocket. Once class wraps up and you're finally back in your room together, you're so desperate for him that you practically beg him to fill you with his cock- which is, of course, exactly the result he'd hoped for.

- Funnily enough, the first time Yuri is really 'tender' with you in bed is when you're both coming back from a party with friends. You're both a bit buzzed, and from the way you were dancing together that night, it's obvious that you want each other desperately. But once he has you to himself at last, his hands are slower and gentler than usual, and when he pushes the length of his cock into you and feels you warm and squeezing so nicely around him, he moans unabashedly, murmuring, "Damn, you're so good to me, Y/N... I love you so much, it drives me fucking insane..."

Felix:

- he's the type to feel most comfortable initiating sex when you're just relaxing in one of your rooms together. In the middle of a movie or playing video games together- or even just sitting quietly and studying together on his bed- he glances over at you and it just hits him that you're his, you chose him, and damnit he's just so crazy into you. He leans over and kisses you without a word, then slides his tongue past your lips, pulling you closer until you can very evidently feel that he needs you now.

- His roommate (Sylvain) is quite the renowned flirt on campus, and likes to tease Felix by openly hitting on you in front of him. All three of you know that it's genuinely in jest, and that Sylvain would never push things TOO far... but that doesn't stop Felix from fucking you extra hard and deep once you have the place to yourselves again. He's generally not very vocal during sex, but if his insecurities have been prodded a bit, he'll lift your legs into a mating press and pound his cock into you, groaning out, "tell me you're mine, Y/N. C'mon- again, louder-!"

- Overall, isn't much one for intimacy in public places- but once or twice, you'll encounter a bit of an exception. Gym dates with Felix are generally common and comfortable enough, and he's actually very helpful in improving your technique and efficiency when working out. But he won't let on for quite some time that it also turns him on immensely to see your body moving like this, and the scent of your sweat and pheromones drive him near feral. If it's late enough at night and there's no one else to overhear you, he'll drag you into one of the changing room showers and fuck you breathless against the wall, his tongue dragging along your neck and his hands groping every inch of you he can reach.

#fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #fe3h #yuri leclerc #felix hugo fraldarius #fire emblem smut #yuri x reader #felix x reader #fire emblem imagines #modern au #fire emblem headcanons #spicy headcanons #feh

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mxtcha-tea · 4 years ago

Text

and that's how i met you mother

✎desc; love at first sight with shiratorizawa (honestly, not all of them are love at first sight but ignore that)

✎pairing[s]; shiratorizawa 3rd years x f!reader (separate)

✎genre; fluff, crack

✎language[s]; english

✎chef note; just an excuse for me to write lovesick boys💗 (I can’t do Shirabu, Kawanishi and Goshiki’s part cause I ran out of ideas🤸‍♀️🚆)

Ushijima

It would just be a normal day in his class, learning and stuff like usual

Then after the teacher finished explaining and hand out the tasks, he'll went through his pencil case and couldn't seem to find any pen

Ushijima frowned at that and looked throughly in his pencil case but with no luck, there's none

He swore that he had put some inside, maybe his mind slipped a little?

A tap on his shoulder caught his attention as he turned his head around to make eye contact with you

You're holding out one of your pen to him with a neutral look,

"You can have it," Ushijima look at you surprised, does that mean he can just take it from you? That's a little absurd

But he didn't question it and nodded, slowly taking the pen from your hand and continue studying

The pen doesn't really sit right in his hand, it's not being his and literally someone else that he doesn't have the chance to talk to

He'll spare a glance at you every minute (ngl, he's complimenting your side view internally)

And when you caught him looking at him, he'll just blink and slowly look back at his work with a light blush on his cheeks

(Istg it's so cute)

After the class ends and before you can leave for lunch, Ushijima caught your attention first,

"Here, thank you for lending me this. And unfortunately, i can't take it from you"

You're just looking at him with a dumbfounded look before taking the pen from him,

"Ah, no problem, um..." "Ushijima Wakatoshi"

You nodded at that, scratching the back of your head "...Ushijima. And it's [y/n]"

Both of you are just standing there in front of each other but it's not awkward, surprisingly

It's as if you two are waiting for one of you to speak and end the convo

(Spoiler alert; none of you wanted to end the convo since both of you find each other interesting)

You cleared your throat, fiddling with your pen a little, "Okay, see you after this, Ushijima"

He nodded at that and with that, both of you went to your separate ways

'[Y/N], YOU AWKWARD BASTARD! THAT WAS SO EMBARRASSING, I BET HE THOUGHT THAT YOU'RE WEIRD NOW!'

Ushijima's just walking towards the gym with a fairly visible blush across his cheeks as he look down

"Ushijima..."

"[y/n]..."

"I guess he's fine..."

"I guess she's fine..."

Ushijima Current Mission!

Trying to figure what other scenarios he can drag you in to have a convo with you again

Good luck Wakatoshi~!

Tendou

You and Tendou have talked with eachother a couple of times but it's nothing more than that

And Tendou actually want to talk more with you (at first for friendship points but y'know...)

Today, you look more beautiful than ever to him today

It's not like you're not beautiful every other day (he thinks you're pretty so that's why he kept on having a convo with you)

And he caught into that

Somehow, he can't help bet stare at you in a distance and he tried his best to avoid getting caught

(Tendou's scared that you find him creepy for looking at you all the time and he don't want that thought to flood you mind)

Then, you came to him to explain about the work your science teacher gave since she's absent for the time being

And you can bet that he doesn't hear a single thing you said because he's too focused on yourself

It's kinda like in those scenes in manga where the main character stare into the main interest

The main interest looking as beautiful as ever with flowers around them

Pretty eyes, angelic face, kissable lips

For him, you're perfect and he even thought that you might be an angel in disguise

No matter how you even see yourself, he would always think that you're fascinating, adorable, enticing—

"Tendou, are you okay?"

The redhead snapped out from his thought and got caught by you

By now, his face is literally mocking his hair color as he chuckled nervously,

"Ah, I'm fine! It's just that..."

He was about to stop mid sentences but thankfully he still got that crumbs of courage and just goes with it,

"...you look pretty today,"

Tendou said with a closed eyes smile, peeking an eye open and trying to see your reaction (ngl he's nervous)

You blinked

Before you literally exploded at that which is what make him surprised in his seat

You fake coughed, looking away and avoiding eye contact,

"Thanks...."

[love meter +10!]

If this is an actual manga or anime, there could've been hearts dancing around him

Timeskip to Tendou at his home and squealing quietly to himself (he can't let his family hear him fanboying for someone in his school lmao)

"We're totally going to marry 3 years from now on~" he says to himself in the mirror with so many confidence

(I just love it when Tendou act like that, let him have his moment)

"Haha, thank you gods for creating me and [y/n] in the same world,"

Tendou's Current Mission!

Getting to know you better and give tons and tons of compliments, just like in the simulations! Specifically otomes and dating games

Try your best Satori~!

Semi

It was another day, another practice session

Except that it went longer than Semi expected, he managed to run from the gym to the main entrance

But before he can even put on his shoes, heavy rain started pouring down

He look at the dark grey sky, resting his forehead onto the shoe locker with one shoe already in his foot while the other in his hand

Sighing, Semi thought about asking to come with Tendou and Yamagata since he didn't bring his umbrella

But on second thought, he realized that they prolly forgot theirs too

And all 3 of them have to run under the rain again like last time

Yamagata and Tendou: "We can avoid the rain if we're fast enough!"

He shivered at that their words and the thought of getting terribly sick again

And before Semi's brain can process a strategy for himself, he was caught off guard when an umbrella was opened next to him,

"Ah sorry,"

In those few seconds, everything went slow motion when your eyes catches his

(He swore it felt like in the anime)

He can feel his cheeks flushing a little but thanks to the wheater, it's not obvious

"Hello?" Semi snapped from his thoughts, shaking his head before focusing on you again,

"Sorry, sorry, um—" "You don't have an umbrella?"

He blinked, shaking his head slightly

It's a pretty peaceful staring between you two with the rain hitting the ground as background sounds

Until you lift your umbrella up, and pointed at the small spot next to you with your thumb,

"Here, I'll help you,"

"Eh?"

Semi was flabbergasted a little at your statement but would he decline it?

Of course not,

"Just tell me where your house is then I help you go there,"

And that's how he find himself back at his house's entrance with you in front of him,

"And that's why I just let you walk with me for the afternoon,"

"Is that so, oh wait! I haven't known your name, and you prolly haven't known my name either..."

He scratched the back of his neck before looking at you with a smile,

"The name's Semi Eita, thanks for the walk back home,"

Your lips parted a little before in turns into a tooth rotting smile,

"[y/n], no problem and thanks for the company, Eita,"

An arrow pierced through his heart as his face is literally the color of Tendou's hair

And just like that, you left him on the entrance with a funny expression upon his face

Cutting the scene to Semi punching his pillow (rip pillow)

"You already caught me off guard already but you really had to look at me like that...."

Semi's Current Mission!

Try to find you the next day after first period and try not to be awkward with you and his convo after the eventful day

You can do it Eita~!

Yamagata

Let's just say that,

Yamagata went through the late anime girl scenario

But with his toast falling down from his mouth while running towards his school

And his stamina almost running low despite being a volleyball player and a libero

(His house's prolly far from his school, cut him some slacks sheesh)

He's pretty much stumbling a lot when he enters the school and speed walking up the stairs

Some of the students look at him weirdly but that doesn't become his main concern because a strict teacher is going first

Yamagata's almost there, almost reaching his classroom's door

But god had other plans and place an invisible rock in front of him

And as you can tell, he slipped on it and now facepalming the floor

(The sound is so loud my lord)

He groaned, shaking a little while trying to sit up from his position

The male look up and is now face to face with you, who's looking down at him

Okay he might be delusional from the impact but is he actually looking at an angel right now?

"Dude, you okay? That's gotta hurt from the sound that it made—"

Your words drowned inside his mind as he widened his eyes with pink tints decorating his cheeks

'This...THIS IS IT!'

"—also I think your nose is bleed—"

"PLEASE MARRY ME!!"

You flinched at that but keep a calm face, a little bit concerned that he may hit his head too hard

While Yamagata is just having heart eyes for you, sparkles around him after saying those words almost too confidently

He doesn't know what's in him that make him think that you're the one,

But he definitely can feel it

You sighed, crouching down while searching through your pocket and pulling out a small pack of tissues,

"I think we're going so fast right now but no, maybe 5 years later or never,"

"Does that mean you agree??"

"I don't know, you're handsome but also stupid, a himbo I think,"

You wipe away the blood dripping down his nose, taking his arm, opening it and put the bloodied tissue on it before closing it, giving a light tap,

"Now go to the nurse office,"

"Will you be there for me?"

"No,"

You help him stand up, dusting his shoulder and walk away as if nothing happened

Yamagata watches you from the distance with a lovesick smile

Tendou laughed behind him with Ushijima and Reon next to him and Semi looking at Yamagata, confused,

"Hayato, I have no idea if you had your alarm on but you just came to school during recess,"

"She's perfect...also, I think I need to go to the nurse right now cause my head hurts,"

Yamagata's Current Mission!

Marry [y/n]

Have fun, Hayato~!

Reon

(He will have the best love at first sight cause I say so)

It was the school festival and it's lively in every corner of the school, the outside, inside the classrooms, even the hallways

Reon had just finished his part of his classroom and now can walk around to enjoy the festival

Honestly, it's a pretty normal day to him despite being the school's festival

The students of Shiratorizawa has always been this lively so it's good that they can be keep the atmosphere as how it is like any other days

Since the others are still working on their parts, Reon was all by himself

Sure, the quiet sounds without Tendou, Semi and Yamagata is fine but he prefer it being loud anyway

A short of way to fill in the boring silence

But what's the bad thing to enjoy the peace once in a while?

So he take a small walk outside the Shiratorizawa building

Stalls decorated the outside with students busy serving the customers

He was greeted by some of them as he greeted them back with a warm smile

Hands inside his pocket while looking at the sky every few seconds

Baby blue sky with fluffy white clouds, it is the spring afterall

It was at that moment where he turn his head around and caught your eyes

It was something between those few seconds that a lighting strike between the string connecting you two for a second

Reon knew he did from the moment you two clashed with each other so suddenly

It was...not love at first sight exactly,

But rather, familiarity, like,

'Oh, hello, it's you. It's going to be you,'

The staring prolly lasted more than he expected before you snapped out from your thought, shaking your head,

"Sorry! Didn't mean to..." "But you didn't do anything?" He rose an eyebrow, smiling sheepishly and watch your panic slowly dissolves

"Well, technically yeah but It was bad of me to stare off at you like that,"

He chuckled, your heart clenching at that,

"Don't worry, I think I did it too...maybe both of us did,"

"Ah, yeah! Probably..." you fiddled with your fingers, visibly nervous facing him since he's basically a stranger even tho being in the same school,

"Reon Oohira," "Eh?" You look at him with confusion at first, while he just offers you a smile,

"My name, since we have...how to say it, meet each other? And I don't want to make you uncomfortable after all that so I think it's best if we introduce ourselves,"

Your heart's basically beating out loudly that you'll afraid that he'll hear it

But, that doesn't seem so bad, does it?

You mirrored his smile, this time more confidently than before,

"[y/n] [l/n], nice to meet you Reon!"

"Please,"

Reon put his hand onto your head, "Just call me Hira,"

You fainted

"She's interesting, I love her,"

Reon's Current Mission!

Get to know you better and honestly, there's nothing else to do after that other than asking you out

You'll do great, Oohira~!

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu crack #shiratorizawa #shiratorizawa x reader #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #tendou x reader #tendou satori #semi x reader #semi eita #yamagata x reader #yamagata hayato #reon x reader #reon oohira

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colorseeingchick · 4 years ago

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Period Pains (Iwa, Suna, Bokuto)

Periods still stuck. Nothing has changed since part one. But these boys continue to comfort me when I feel like my heart, head, and stomach are going to explode :D. I hope they comfort you too!

A/N: It’s been rough homies. It really do be your own body that tries to attack you -_-.

Warnings: EMETOPHOBIA (in Suna’s there’s a semi detailed description of vomiting); swearing; foot massage in Bokuto’s (Ik that makes some people uncomfy); gym bros.

Iwaizumi Hajime

It was common knowledge that you and Iwaizumi were two halves of one insane power couple.

No questions asked, you both were generally independent when it came to taking care of your own matters, and you were both were pretty independent.

But there were exceptions- moments where you would both lean on each other, using the other as an anchor and a crutch to get back up and stay on your feet.

Your period was one of those times when times you needed your beloved boyfriend to play that role.

Today was one of those days.

You and Iwaizumi head over to the gym at around 6 am to get your early morning workout in before you go through with the rest of your day.

You had told Iwaizumi the night before, and he asked if you still wanted to “go gym” the next morning.

You said yes, hoping that a solid workout would help with some of the cramps.

And once you had got there, you had your hopes up.

The first half of your workout was going really well, and you hadn’t thought of your cramps at all.

But then it hit you while you were walking over to get your water bottle.

You didn’t know why, but the cramps hit you hard. Instantly you went to the bathroom to try and compose yourself, but that wasn’t really helping either.

You didn’t wanna bother Iwaizumi mid workout, so you tried to carry on.

Unfortunately, that didn’t work out too well.

As you tried to keep going, the cramps in your stomach got worse and worse, until you were pressing your stomach with your hands, curled over yourself on your yoga mat.

Taking deep breaths, you tried to relieve the only worsening cramps.

It wasn’t until a warm, firm hand caressed your back did you look up from your curled up form.

“1 to 10.” Iwaizumi asks you with a soft voice.

“4.” You say as you curl into yourself once more.

It was the pain ranking system that you’d both been using since early on in your relationship. You knew exactly what he meant, and you were honestly thankful that he understood you were in pain by just looking at you.

“Lying to me doesn’t do any good, ya know.” His words are harsh, yet the concern in his voice kills any intimidation that was supposed to come across.

“7.”

“Sounds right.” Iwa’s one arm wraps around you, digging into your side, his thumb massaging circles into the spot right above your left hip, while the other hand rubbed softer circles onto your lower belly.

You felt your muscles untense as his hands worked away at your cramping stomach with deep pressure only he had the strength to apply.

“What’s wrong with her?''

Both of you look up to see some guy (he seemed like a newbie, neither of you had seen him before) talking to your boyfriend.

“What.” Iwa’s voice is dry, in shock at the fact that this dude was in your business.

“Did she injure herself working out or something?” He asks, as if you were incapable of speaking for yourself. “Not being careful in the gym can be really dangerous, especially if you’re not trained.” He speaks in your direction this time.

Iwaizumi Hajime (27) ATHLETIC TRAINER, now looked like he was ready to commit murder.

Some of the regulars had now turned to watch, most giving the guy dirty looks.

A couple of you and Iwa’s closer gym bros step towards you both, making some preparations for Iwaizumi to swing.

But before anyone can really say anything, your voice cuts through.

“That’s real rich coming from you. The only thing that’s gonna cause an injury is your horrendous deadlift form.”

Your boyfriend goes from a state of shock into a fit of snickers, the guys on the side also amused. The guy in front of you goes completely red.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about you bi-”

“I actually think she’s right. I was a bit worried, too.” One of Iwa’s (very buff) friends stepped forward, smiling at you two before putting a hand a on the newbie’s shoulder. “Let’s go check it out.”

As you sigh out, your boyfriend stares at you with pride and amusement both bright in his eyes. “All that pain and you’re still able to come up with snarky comments.”

As his hand returns to soothing circular motions, you dig your face into his chest.

The soft touches from Iwa were enough to ease your pains, and allowed you to embrace your moment of vulnerability with your sweet boyfriend.

“Let’s dip and get food, okay? And you can just rest at home. You deserve a break.”

“Weren’t you saying something about how the grind doesn’t stop-”

“It stops when your health is on the line. Let’s go.”

Suna Rintarou

When it comes to you being on your period, Suna is by far the most hands off while simultaneously being the most attentive.

Suna wasn’t necessarily the biggest on PDA. But when it was just you two? He had no problem being all up against you.

The only situation Suna does not know how to navigate is when he can’t read someone’s moods or behaviors. Luckily for him, you were overly clear with his emotions and needs when you were on your period, even if those moods and needs were all over the place.

Early on, when you got together, he was a bit surprised to see how bad your period could get.

He’d walked in to your room one day to see you in a fetal position, rolling around on the floor.

He’d seen you go a full day of eating only junk food, upset and trying to satiate all your cravings.

He’d also seen you go without sleep because of how bad your cramps were.

Essentially, he’d learned you’d go through really bad health habits, and he’d assigned himself the roll of trying to make sure you maintained some regularity while on your period.

He was ready for anything, so ready that he made it look effortless.

When Suna came back from practice one day, he couldn't find you anywhere in your shared home. Which isn’t a problem, but he doesn’t recall you saying you were going anywhere....

It’s not till he lazily stalks over to the hallway and hears a horrible retching sound that he realizes you are still home.

Swinging the door open, he finds you perched over the toilet, vomiting in what looks to be a super painful manner.

“Rin...ta...r-oh fuck” you can barely get his name out before you start throwing up again.

Your boyfriend takes a step into the bathroom, but you toss an intense ‘no’ his way with your hand.

“It smells disgusting… and… I don’t want to be smothered right now…” you sigh as you breathe between your bouts of vomiting.

He takes a deep breath, recomposing himself. He knows your period can get pretty bad, but he hasn’t seen it get this bad in a while. He obliges, but he doesn’t move from the doorway.

As you start your next fit, Suna’s face remains blank, but his heart twists.

He slowly approaches you, kneeling beside you.

“I said to not.. To smother me....” your protest is weakened by your body inhibiting your ability to speak.

Suna keeps a bit of space between you two, but he gently grabs your hair, pulling strand by strand, until its completely out of your face

(alternatively, if you have short hair), Suna keeps a bit of space between you two, but he lets his hand gently rest on your back, rubbing in soothing circles .

Your hand goes up to push him away, but he grabs your fist with his larger hand, weaving his fingers with yours, rubbing his thumb into the back of your hand.

“I won’t smother, don’t worry. But I’m gonna be here.” He’s soft in his tone, unfazed despite the relative unpleasantness of the situation.

As you finally stop, you fall back, your hands covering your eyes.

As you lean back, your body giving out, your head finds its way onto the plush chest of your green eyed boyfriend. He doesn’t touch you, but just acts as a makeshift couch for you to lean on.

“Rintarou.” “

Yeah?”

“I need your touch.”

Your words are blunt but effortlessly received as your boyfriend instinctively wraps his arms around you, languidly stroking your thigh with one hand and holding your stomach with the other. He adjusts you so that you’re pressed up against him.

“Better, babe?” he asks as he backs up into the wall, loosening up as you relax against him.

“Mmm.” You croon, sinking down against him. “I should brush my teeth, I’m sorry you came back to this.”

“It’s fine. Get cleaned up. Wanna watch movies? I got Chinese takeout.”

“I don’t want Chinese,” you comment.

“What do you want?”

“Pizza.”

“...”

He sighs. “I’ll be back in 20.”

“I love you.” you smile at him as you tell him what he already knows.

He presses his nose into your hair, letting your conditioner’s scent fill his nose. “Mmm… and I love you.”

“How much?” You ask.

“How much do I what?”

“How much do you love me?”

“Enough to get you pizza at 10 pm in the pouring rain.”

“It’s raining??”

“Yeah.”

“...Nevermind I don’t want pizza anymore.”

“Well I want pizza now so I’m going.” He pulls himself up and out of the bathroom despite the way you tried to cling to his leg to keep him from leaving.

“Rin!”

Bokuto Koutarou

Bokuto is honestly the ideal boyfriend, especially when you are on your period.

Early in your relationship, when you got on your period, you didn’t tell Bo. But he ended up learning the hard way.

He’d come back from practice a bit later than usual and didn’t text you. Usually he didn’t, especially if he knew he’d only be a little late. But when he walked through the doors, instead of finding his usually happy, bubbly girlfriend who usually showered him with love, he was greeted with you crying.

“W-why didn’t-t you text me, Kou? Do you-u not care about me?”

He had nooo idea what was going on, and he was very panicked and sad.

He felt like the rug was pulled out from under him when you proceeded to snuggle into his chest 2 minutes later, cries completely stopped. His little owl eyes were wide open and very confused.

2 days later, he asked about the situation again, scared to bring it up.

But you were really embarrassed as you explained how you were on your period and could get extreme mood swings. You apologized and promised that you’d never do something wild like that again.

But Bo wasn’t content with your answer.

He went and asked Akaashi if he knew anything about what periods were like (he was shy to ask you).

Akaashi found the lovely statistic of “period pain being of equal pain levels of a heart attack” and Bokuto lost his shit. “

I’ve never had a heart attack, but they kill people! And they go for the hospital for those! And she apologized for being a little emotional… that doesn’t seem right, right Kaashi?”

Akaashi agrees, of course. And sends Bokuto off with the advice of “she’s always there for you. All you have to do is be there for her.”

When the next time you had your period rolled around, and you found yourself a little emotional, you did your best to control it. But Bokuto was having none of it.

“Baby, you don’t have to hide it! You can be emotional!! I don’t mind. You always help me when I’m emotional! I can do the same for you. I’ll take the best care of you, I promise!”

You would honestly call it a turning point in your relationship, cause this was when you learned to start really depending on Bo. And you realized just how dependable he could really be.

When Bokuto comes back from practice today, he finds you splayed out on the couch, koala-hugging a pillow, whimpering a “welcome home” between grunts of pain.

Bokuto stays quiet as he walks up to the couch, dipping down to place a kiss on your cheek before stripping his sweaty t-shirt off as he walks off to take a shower.

Once he comes out, fresh and clean, he throws on a comfortable t-shirt and shorts before coming back to find you on the couch.

He grabs your legs, pulls them up, sits down, and then places them in his lap. “Baby, do you want a massage? I can press your legs.”

“You don’t have to, Kou, it’s okay.”

“I want to!” He cheers back as he starts to knead at your calves, moving down to your feet and slowly pressing over your socks.

You sigh and huff, slowly relaxing as the soothing feeling of the pressure applied to your feet counteracts the pain you felt in your lower abdomen.

While Bokuto concentrates intensely on massaging your calves again, he perks up at the sound of a sniffle.

Swinging his head, he sees you slowly dissolving into sobs.

Panicked, he slides your legs onto the couch and comes by your face.

“Baby, did I press too hard? Did I hurt you? Please tell me.”

“No, no, Kou, you’re fine. I’m just- I’m so lucky and blessed to have such a loving amazing boyfriend~” you get the words out as tears stream down your face, turning to look him in his big, gorgeous, gold eyes. “I don’t deserve you, my love.”

Now, for reasons unknown, Bokuto finds himself crying as well.

“Why are you crying!” You cry and laugh out at the same time.

“Because I have such a sweet girlfriend who always showers me in love! Don’t say I don’t deserve you. You’re perfect for me.”

Cheesy as the exchange was, it was really soft for you. Because you knew Bokuto, and you knew he meant every word exactly as is from the bottom of his heart.

Crying while your laughs got lighter, you pull him in and kiss him all over his face.

He laughs too, and holds your face as he pulls away, swiping the tears from under your eyes. “Your turn!!”

After smothering you with kisses, he picks you up and carries you to your shared bedroom, so he can love on you more, with enough space for both of you to lay next each other and peacefully drift off to sleep.

A/N: Gym guys who don’t mind their business seriously bother me. I hope you all enjoyed! Requests and commentary are greatly appreciated :D

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asterroidd · 4 years ago

Text

sho the todorki

↬ pairing: shouto todoroki x reader

↬ synopsis: you like him, he likes you. the problem? sho's in the friend zone and so it's up to mina, the resident match maker, and company to give you guys a lil push.

alternatively: sho being a dork, hence the title

↬ warning/s: profanity lol, a lot of second hand embarrassment, two insufferable idiots, idk if this is too ooc of shouto but just take this dorky version of him

↬ note: a fic dedicated to @puredivinity that serves as a welcome gift for joining the sho simp club. luv u mara despite all the cursed images i send

Class 3-A has four unspoken rules:

Number one: never play music out loud beyond 8 pm (tried and tested by Denki himself, got blown up by Bakugo)

Number two: don't leave your room at 2 am or a certain grape pervert would harass you

Number three: refrain from mentioning crocs to Kirishima. Just don’t.

And number four: never tell you or Shouto that both of you like each other (just for the sake of entertainment)

It had become customary to not break these four rules or those who dare break it is rumored to have a thousand year duration of bad luck to be passed down generation after generation.

That said, Mina was fed up with the mutual pining you and Shouto clearly exhibit. For two years she watched both of you shy and fluster with one another. His face beet red while you a fumbling mess. Truly a sight to behold. It was like watching a romance movie in real time, but without the stupid opening track.

At first she thought it was cute, it all started one morning during her first year in U.A. You forgot your jacket that day after waking up late and thus have to rush to get on time. Aizawa would have your head if you weren't there in homeroom. So in your idiocy and frantic state, you forgot most of the essential stuff and that includes, of course, a warm jacket.

Mina watched as Shouto stared at you from across the room. With tense shoulders as his gaze constantly drift from your form to his jacket. Her mouth curled upwards, interested with the current situation. It was not every day one could see the infamous Todoroki Shouto so nervous.

She eagerly kept her attention on him, watching as Shouto got up from his seat and slowly made his way to you with shaky legs. Shouto, barely uttering a word, shoved his jacket to you and rushed back to his seat. At that moment, Mina already knew something was blossoming between you and him.

And so it basically became her life mission to make sure you and Shouto end up with one another. She made the promise two years ago, and yet here you both were, two dorks that has a crush on each other but couldn't confess even if the world ends that very moment.

Was it difficult to watch? Yes.

It took all of Mina's entire being to not push his head into yours. She knows the consequences if one breaks the fourth rule. Two years had already pass and graduation is around the corner, she refuses to accept that both of you aren't a couple. As Class 3-A's resident cupid and match maker, she is more than determined to make sure you and him both end up together. Mina would not be inherently breaking rule number four, just gonna give you guys a lil' push with the help of a friend. And that friend is one that possesses an electrification quirk.

"Okay, what do we tell (____) tomorrow?" Denki asked.

Shouto looked over his written notes one last time before nodding and giving his answer, "I'll ask them if they want to have coffee."

"Good! Make sure to?"

"I'll make sure to keep eye contact and. . ." he halted, going over his notes once more. "And make sure that I'm smiling."

Denki flashed him a grin. Clasping a hand around his shoulder and lightly patting it afterwards. "Now, don't forget the lesson I've taught you today. It is important that your date goes smoothly with (____)."

Shouto eagerly nodded, stars dancing in his eyes. His heart clamored inside his chest, beating in a quick tempo comparable to that of allegro. Sweat accumulated on his palm, in which Shouto then hastily wiped it on his shirt. Despite nervousness bubbling inside his stomach, Shouto admits that he is excited to ask you out. "Do you really think (____) and I would be a great couple?"

"Of course, dude! Right, Mina?" Denki turned to his friend. She gave him two thumbs-up, giving fuel to Shouto's confidence for tomorrow's event.

Now that Denki is done giving him an hour-long lesson about asking you out and things to do in a date, Mina was sure everything would go smooth as butter. Like, what could go wrong? Despite Shouto being a dork and foreign to the concept of love, he still has that natural charm that had some swooning for him.

Though, she spoke all too soon.

Mina facepalmed, dragging her palm across her face as Shouto stood frozen before you. She and Denki should've seen this coming.

"(____)," he started, his voice cracking at the end. Suddenly the discoloration and grime in between the cracks of the wall looks interesting. He kept looking everywhere but you.

You tilted your head to the side, "What's up, Sho?"

Heavens above, Shouto loves that nickname.

The male fiddles with the ends of his shirt, his tongue twisting and throat closing which makes it hard to speak. After class had ended, Shouto came up to you asking if he could talk to you somewhere private. He led you to the area behind the gym where no students are on sight. Well, that is except for Mina and Denki who closely followed behind to make sure Shouto wouldn't mess up his chance. The two stayed low, making sure they are well hidden behind the bush nearby.

This was now the moment; the perfect chance for Shouto to ask you out after practicing his lines over and over again. It was a simple question: ‘Do you want to have coffee with me this weekend if you are free?”

Should be easy enough right?

"I- well- uhh. . ." he scratched the area behind his ear. "D-do you maybe want to free?"

Shouto paled, he'd done messed up.

"Wait that's wrong—" he took a deep breath. "Are you coffee this weekend?"

Really? Really Shouto?

"Shit— wait! Coffee this free??"

Can someone take this lost child away?

Denki bit his inner cheek, hands tugging his hair from second hand embarrassment. He had fate on him; had fate that Shouto had rehearsed enough the night before in asking you out. Guess he was wrong.

"What do you mean by that?" you voiced out. You were beyond puzzled, unsure what to make of the situation. First he asks to speak with you in private, now he's a stuttering mess. Could it be that he's confessing? Asking you out?

Your heart quickened at the thought. You were ready to say 'yes'.

"What I mean is uhh. . ." Shouto wished he has his written notes. "Are you weekend for this coffee?"

"YES!!" you shout without thinking.

Wait, what? Hold up.

"Aight, I'm forcing these two to kiss each other." Mina announced. That’s it. She lost hope for the both of you. You and Shouto need professional help. She adjusted her position, ready to get up and intervene. That is until Denki lay a heavy hand on her shoulder.

"Wait," he motioned his head to you. Mina huffed, sitting down once more.

"Sho. . ." you start, a soft smile on your face.

"Y-yes?" damn, Shouto is such a stuttering mess.

"Do you want to grab a coffee this weekend? I mean, if you are free?"

He blinked, your words slowly being registered in his brain. There was a buffer, like an old computer processing 10 kilobyte worth of data. His brain was stuck on 78% in the progress bar. Then, it dawned on him; the cogs and gears turning. It took a full minute for Shouto to understand. "I-. . .I’d love to!" he managed to stutter out.

Welp, at least that did the job. Denki and Mina released a sigh of relief. High-fiving each other despite the obvious fact that Shouto failed his task.

But hey, beggars can't be choosers. All's well, ends well.

You can't believe it.

You have a date with Shouto. THE Todoroki Shouto. The guy you've had a crush on since your first year in UA. The one that swept you right off your feet the moment you laid your eyes on him. The friend that always had your back. With him struggling to ask you earlier, could it mean that he likes you more than a friend?

You let out a squeal, pressing the pillow flush against your chest. In total, you've replayed the scene from memory for over fifty times already. You couldn't even concentrate in doing your homework. So you thought instead of doing your responsibilities, you opted to celebrate by screaming and running around your room in glee.

It wasn't everyday you'd get a douse of serotonin.

You’ve waited for this day since forever. Day dreaming about Shouto being your significant other; holding hands with him, wrapping your arms around his torso, and kissing his lips.

The thought brought forth another pterodactyl squeal from you.

Oh gods, what would you wear? Should it be casual? Semi-formal? Formal?

A wedding dress??

No one told you a date was this stressful. You groaned, prying opening your wardrobe cabinet to quickly plan out an outfit. You can’t afford to look stupid and, dare you say, cheap when you’re on a date with the most sought after male in UA.

Meanwhile, Shouto is also panicking.

“Look man, you messed up once but that’s okay!” Denki cheered him up. “Experience is the best teacher.”

“I know but. . .” Shouto took one deep breath, burying his face in his hands. “I-. . .I just froze up the moment I was in front of them.”

“And that’s normal!”

The moment you and Shouto parted ways, the male immediately went to Denki for some follow up consultation. Sure, he can fight villains face-to-face without batting an eye. Could freeze half of his enemies without a drop of sweat. Unleash an inferno of fire to defeat his oponent. Tolerate a bunch of fans shoving cameras up his face to get a close-up picture.

But Todoroki Shouto, for the love of god, couldn’t ask you out without freezing in place and become a stuttering mess.

“Lighten up man!” Denki nudged his shoulder. “Unleash the tiger inside you.”

“But I don’t have a tiger inside me. That would be anatomically incorrect.”

“Look—that’s not the—. . .what I mean is—uhh. . .nevermind. . .” the blond struggled with his words. He had to be careful with what advice he throw at Shouto. That man takes things way too literately. “What I mean is, toughen up. Have confidence on yourself. You’ll have (____) falling for you before you knew it.”

Which will be easy since (____) is a simp for him, Denki thought.

Shouto raised his fist then clenched it, determination washing over him. He gave one brief nod to his mentor (that is the personification of Pikachu).

He can do it. Todoroki Shouto could do it.

He’d go over his lines a thousand times before the date. He’d make sure he is 110% prepared before the weekend. Denki had made a dent in his schedule just to tutor him how to make you fall in love with him. Shouto wouldn’t let this go to waste.

Yes, this man is prepared and is on a mission he couldn't possibly fail.

Scratch that, Shouto’s a mess.

He pulled the end of his sleeves, his legs bouncing up and down. The male bit the inside of his cheeks, was the weather hot or was it just his insides burning up. Shouto couldn’t sleep the night before, his mind kept him up. It was like 17 browser tabs are open, with three of them frozen, and he doesn’t know where the music is coming from.

Due to the jitters getting the best of him, Shouto arrived at the agreed destination. . .two hours earlier than what was expected.

Which wasn’t a problem anyway, since you did the same.

You huffed, doubling over and placing your hands on your knees. You had ran from your house all the way to the cafe just to make sure you weren't late this time. In attempts to catch your breath, you’ve failed to notice your date standing just a few feet away from you. The minute Shouto laid his eyes on you, fire sparked deep within his heart. Someone pinch him and tell this wasn’t a dream.

“(____),” he walked close to which startled you.

“Sho! You-. . . you’re early!”

“So are you. . .”

Then silence fell between both of you. Talk about awkward. Who’s idea was it to get these two idiots in a date? If anything, both of you should’ve just left it on mutual pining and save it as a story for the grandchildren.

Shouto cleared his throat, hands scratching the back of his neck. “Well, since we’re both early. Why won’t we enter the café?”

You nodded, your voice box failing you. Inwardly, you were screaming your heart out. The embarrassment was just too much for you to handle. You doubt that Shouto would want a second date at this point.

And so you lagged behind him, keeping a feet distance away from the male. You have a hard time looking at him without making a mess for yourself. Blood rushing your cheeks, it was hard to ignore the butterflies fluttering inside your stomach.

The café was quite small. A handful of potted plants hung outside, the store’s name written in calligraphy, and a few customers visible from the window. The establishment was newly built, Ochako introduced it to you about a week ago. The cheesecake they sell is to die for—it was definitely worth the hefty price.

A small chime went off as Shouto opened the door. Then it hit you; the strong smell of coffee. You were not a big fan of the beverage, but you’ve got to admit that the scent was pleasant. Without prior warning, Shouto lightly held your hand in his. His thumb gliding over the back of your hand a few times. You took in a sharp inhale, eyes widening at his gesture.

This is what they do in dates right? Shouto recalled his notes.

So this is like a DATE date?? Not a friendly date? Somebody pinch me right now, you thought.

“We should find a table,” he spoke, eyes refusing to make contact with yours. You’ve managed to stutter out an agreement, too occupied with the feeling of his hands. It was so warm—just the way you imagined it throughout the years.

You could finally die now in peace. Goodbye cruel world.

Soon enough, you and he are situated on a table near the window. Neither of you dare start a conversation, because god forbid another awkward interaction. Years worth of watching romance series could have never prepared you for such an instance. You wished you should’ve consulted some of your classmates—especially those who have experience in the topic of dating—before coming here yourself. You could try and message them, but you wondered if it would be rude to pull out your phone and ignore Shouto. No, you wouldn’t take the chance.

“Uh- So how are you, (____)?” he asked, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Oh, uhhh—. . .” how does one even speak again? “I’m doing well, I guess. . .?”

That was lame, (____). Lame.

“How about you?”

Shouto was silent, you figured he didn’t hear you so you repeated yourself once again. All the while not looking at his direction. It would be better if you don’t see his face or you’ll turn into a puddle of mess.

But seconds seem to drag to minutes, and that got you concerned.

“Sho—“ you cut yourself short, realizing that he was staring at you with a lovestruck expression. He looks at you rather softly, like how one would look at a small pet one happens to cross by while walking. The way Shouto kept his gaze at you made you insecure. Was there something on your face? Hair? Shirt? Oh gods, did you smell?

You wished that, right then and there, the earth would swallow you whole.

“Sorry I was just. . .” he faltered in his sentence, gulping down his saliva. Shouto then turned his head to the side, a blush ever so present on his cheeks as well as the tips of his ears.

"Sorry, you're just—just so cute in that outfit that I can’t help but stare."

His voice was quiet, barely a whisper but you heard it, ironically, loud and clear. Your hand found its way on your mouth, blood rushing to your cheeks as a result of his compliment.

“Tha-thank you. . .” you’ve managed to croak out, looking down and fiddling with your nails.

Just. WOW. You can’t believe it. Never once did Shouto commented on your appearance throughout the duration of your friendship with him. What he did was just. . .just so unexpected from him. You find it hard to believe yourself.

All these years, you’ve hidden your feelings for him. Trapped it inside a chest and swallowed the key yourself. Him falling for you is comparable to that of pigs flying; it was impossible to happen. Yet both of you sat there, like two dorks, a blushing mess while refusing to make eye contact with one another. For once, maybe this time, you could tell him how you feel.

“I like you. . .” you voiced out your thoughts. It took you a minute to realize what you've done. You let out a small gasp and directed your attention to Shouto. He was also looking at you, baffled. He went silent, his jaw went slack, and eyes wide open, trying to find the words to reply.

Oh boi, did you made a mistake?

“(__—“

“BECAUSE YOU’RE MY FRIEND!” Your jaw tightened, declaring it all too loudly just in case he rejects you. “I like you because you’ve been a good friend to me.”

You hope you were doing this right.

Unbeknownst to you, Shouto felt his heart break into two after hearing your added comment. His shoulders slumped down, sadness clouded his features.

“I. . .I see. . .” he muttered. “I like you too,” he said after a pregnant pause.

Your whole face lit up. Now it was your turn to look at him with a baffled expression. There was a twinkle in your eye, is this it? The moment of your life?

“Because you’re my precious friend.” Shouto plastered a smile on his face.

Oh. Welp, Mina and Denki tried.

RIP to both of you, forever pushing the other in the friend zone.

ya’ll want a bakugo version of this? (. ❛ ᴗ ��.) ✧

#shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #shouto todoroki #shoto x reader #mha #bnha #my hero academy #boku no hero academia #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mutual pining #reader insert

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