#which means i need to look more into lingering effects anyways even as just stuff that never goes beyond that initial recovery period
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waywardsalt · 2 months ago
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beating back my own ambitions like look i have a hard enough time reigning in my own ideas dont be pulling this shit
#i am. an ambitious person. who has a general lack of motivation lmao#salty talks#anyways. i wouldnt make this its own post to talk about it but i did come up with a decent visual idea for the bellumbeck fic#NOT the shipfic no its the fic thats like. whats going on during that possession final boss stuff. yknow that subgenre of ph fics#and i want to eventually write that fic so i dont want to like. commit to any visuals that require it to be in a visual medium#but like with the preface that im somewhat into gore and have established the effects possession has on linebeck and how it injures him#and i kinda like the idea of linebeck's irl wounds showing up and being present on his body in the little mental thing where he interacts#with bellum but its never acknowledged like you see it like slights burns on his limbs and just this huge wound on his back#for my self indulgent gore enjoying bone enjoying self i almost want to make it an exaggerated version- like worse than it ends up irl#(ig since at that point in time its just straight up an open wound since it properly cauterizes when bellum is removed)#just leaning into the idea of the whole thing being an uncanny disorienting dreamlike nightmare scenario#his body is reflecting this horrible wound hes gotten and in any other case he would be in agony with the burns n exposed muscle and bone#but within this space he and bellum are it might as well just not exist since neither seem to notice; it's just there#tbh the extent of what the back wound like. is. is something i need to play with more. bc there is some underlying magical supernatural#bs going on with how that actually like. doesnt kill him. i have it somewhere between a burn and a bit of that section of his back torn off#like uhhhh. i said it in a different post like bellum burns (some acid shit i imagine the purple stuff is like acid) into his back and#kinda just establishes a very physical bodily connection rather than anything too magical like the possession is more biological or w/e#which means i need to look more into lingering effects anyways even as just stuff that never goes beyond that initial recovery period#anyways! another chapter of salty lightly describing linebeck gore ideas ive got at least two now
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mlobsters · 1 year ago
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supernatural s6e13 unforgiven (w. andrew dabb, daniel loflin)
flashback soulless!sam is just beating the shit out of this cop. grandpa. really. just gonna let that go too huh
(looks like the black desktop background is here to stay)
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he looks so young in his silly little suit and bright lighting with his new(er) hair. and yes the little joke about how tall sam was endearing
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DEAN And how would you... characterize their relationship?
NICOLE'S ROOMMATE Relationship? No, they weren't having a --
DEAN just the -- the -- the tone or the nature of their conversation.
NICOLE'S ROOMMATE Well... loud. And... athletic.
he went on a little face journey there
here i thought i'd seen the last of the guys having problems with the law, that particular variety of conflict stresses me out. and this time, robosam really fucked up and now our sam has to deal with it? agh
i've been reading this fic that focuses a lot more on kind of lingering effects of trauma that the guys have been through and just now watching sam have this very impassioned conversation with the lady that leads to her unlocking the cell he's in, got me thinking about like. changing gears so quickly from robosam to regular sam, i'm watching him waiting for the con. and i wonder if dean would catch himself having similar thoughts
so soulless managed to bang 5 ladies in this little town on a job. that seems... logistically challenging
(robo)SAM Well, Samuel wasn't really around when I was a kid. We have more of a, uh, business relationship.
BRENNA Uh, do you have any other family?
(robo)SAM Family just slows you down.
he was sweating after that flashback. i mean, objectively terrifying having sudden intrusive memories of an event you don't remember and with yourself being so cold and cruel.
(wiki) Sam and Samuel use the aliases "Roark and Wynand." Sam's alias (H. Roark) is a reference to the main character—Howard Roark—in Ayn Rand's novel The Fountainhead which embodied the philosophy of objectivism, where individual self-interest was held as the purpose of one's life (and so it is interesting that this is associated with soulless Sam). Samuel's alias Wynand refers to Gail Wynand, another character in the book.
oh my god that's hilarious. it is ~interesting~ supernaturalwiki 😂
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i adjusted the lighting on this because it was so dark and the quality is laughable but anyway again squatting in a place with power and a janky lampshade. i liked dean's plaid, in this shot it looks more like black and white plaid which is a little bold for him (but it's more of a subdued blue in better light)
DEAN We are not the only hunters on the planet, okay? We can call Bobby. He and Rufus could come and wrap up.
he makes a good point. give bobby and rufus some quality time together
DEAN Really? You get that every time you scratch that wall, that you are playing Russian roulette?
SAM Dean, I get you're worried, okay? And I know what you think is gonna happen. But you know what? It will or it won't.
i get where dean is coming from but also sam makes a good point that it's gonna happen or not.
DEAN Sam --
SAM --look, I'm starting to think that -- that I might have done some bad stuff here, Dean. And so I don't care if it's dangerous. I have to set things right, 'cause I got a frigging soul now, and -- and it won't let me just walk away. I'm staying here. And I need you to back me
DEAN All right. Why not? Well, let's "memento" this thing, shall we?
(two memento references in as many episodes)
oh the flashbacks got even worse. using this dude as bait for the monster, which clearly went above bait to just plain food. oh, and "mercy" killing them. right. GREAT.
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giggling over these weird contacts. it wasn't until after i'd been staring at them entranced for this entire speech that i realized they're probably supposed to be like. another pupil? cuz he's a spider lol 🕷️🕷️🕷️
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so he's upset she ignored his sorry and went inside but i was just thinking to myself, well you got her husband killed (again) and kind of killed him (again), it's unforgivable. and then i remembered the episode title. ha ha. queuing up the unforgiven by metallica (love that album, and they totally played this at a middle school dance i attended)
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did you sleep on that gross ass bed, samuel winchester
DEAN Sam, you got to understand that all that crap last year -- all of it -- none of it was you.
SAM Let's be crystal clear, okay? It was me.
DEAN Well, can I get you anything?
SAM What are you now, my waitress?
DEAN I'm just trying to make you feel better. Don't be a bitch.
SAM Yeah, I'm fine.
DEAN Yeah, you look fine. All I'm saying is everything's gonna be okay.
SAM I don't know, Dean. If I did this here, then who knows how many oth-
didn't know he was gonna have hell creep in so soon. so i guess they were like well when dean went to hell it was 40 years and we had to make it even worse by breaking his will and him enjoying torturing people. so, how can we make this even worse for sam... hmmm. not only does he get the multiplied years of torture (from what i gleaned it was a lot longer too?) but a bonus year of being a monster topside where he can suffer for feeling guilty about getting people killed etc etc. sam is totally going to win the trauma olympics
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azapofinspiration · 3 months ago
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Writer Interview Game
Tagged by @grassbreads
When did you start writing?
Uh, I started attempting to write my own stuff around 5th/6th Grade (though not much came of that; most of my own stories and characters just turn in the microwave of my brain rather than on the page).
Writing fanfic though (which is most of my writing) is a bit different. I had a friend who wrote fanfic in middle school (though I didn't know that it had a name and community online) that I would read over and proofread/edit for. So I was also inspired to write a couple fanfics and lines for my fave series at the time, Inuyasha and Chrono Crusade.
But I didn't know what fanfic was and actually start writing regularly until I was in college. I was looking for official art, stumbled into fan art, which then lead to fanfiction on FF.Net and the rest was history.
Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?
I do read smut when the mood takes me and I don't write that at all. Though admittedly, depending on the context, sometimes I kinda zoom through the sex stuff to get to whatever catharsis or crisis the characters are going through in that setting. The closest I've gotten to writing that is just fading out and implying sex happened.
Other than that, I read and write hurt/comfort, fluff, angst. Fantasy, adventure, slice of life. I mostly stick to what I know and only occasionally dip my toes in elsewhere.
Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?
As a kid, I wanted to emulate the author of HP. I no longer wish to do that for obvious reasons, though part of me still admires how back in the day her works spurred practically a whole generation to read.
I know once someone told me that a poem I wrote was a similar style to Robert Frost's but that's the only time I really remember someone comparing my work to another author (and I don't think I was even a teenager yet). I don't usually write much poetry anyway so it's kinda a moot point. Usually when people talk about my work, comparisons aren't much of a factor.
Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?
My writing space is mostly my apartment, usually either my bed or my couch/love seat. I use a laptop to do most of my writing, though I have on occasions used my phone if I'm compelled to write elsewhere or need to be sneaky about it.
What’s your most effective way to muster up a muse?
It's just a hobby for me, so I write as I can when I can. The coming up with ideas is usually the easy part. The actual getting them written down and comprehensible to others (and motivating myself to do so) is the hard part.
I've got tons of ideas rotating in my brain, mostly for fanfic but also for my OCs in the way back.
Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?
I mean, I do write a lot of hurt/comfort. While I do write angst, I don't like completely hopeless endings. I like something that allows at least a smidge of hope to linger.
I guess if there's anything close to a theme, it's about people being there to support each other. I've written this as family, friends, and romantic partners. Actually, a lot of my shipping fics are in an amibiguous, is it romantic or platonic zone, because I don't necessarily care about the specifics as long as they're together and supporting each other.
What is your reason for writing?
I think it's fun even though it can be a lot of hard work. And I like to get these ideas out of my brain and share them with others.
What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?
I've often been told that my characterization is really strong and feels true even when I do AU settings completely different from canon. I also think my dialogue has gotten a lot more natural sounding over the years.
How do you feel about your own writing?
I like it. Sure, when I've just posted a fic, I may be fed up with it due to all the writing and editing and proofreading I've been doing, but I'll eat it up the same as any other fic or story I read within just a couple of weeks. I write the stuff that I wish I could read and want to put my own spin on, so of course, I do usually like my writing - even if upon reading it I suddenly notice grammar, spelling, or word errors that weren't caught in all the proofreading and spellchecks I did.
Still, overall, I do like my writing and I'm proud of how far it's come.
Now, perhaps if I could just get some stuff written about my OCs...
For whoever wants to do this, feel free to try this game yourself. I'll tag @theroadtosomewhere and @xlillyle to play if they want to (no pressure).
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lionguarded · 2 years ago
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❝  mine.  ❞ (Good old growl+red eyes combo we love)
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@ofwings-andclaws (uhhhh like trigger warnings if anybody else wants to read? like, just all the bad stuff, non-con etc.)
silas had rules. it wasn't a lot of rules, most were common sense for self-preservation. well, they all aimed at self-preservation. some more than others, but one - that one was very important. keep track of heat. his heat always was on time - it came like fuckin' clockwork even now, after forty fuckin' years of it & countless pregnancies interruptions. it still came on time, always, which made everything that happened today even worse.
he'd been feeling the early effects of it. restlessness, uneasiness, dante smelling even better than usual & .....silas feeling somewhat..... really clingy & searching body contact throughout the day - if able. work was a bit of an issue when it came to that, because he really didn't want to rub up to hal.... who might be getting a wrong idea if he did. he blamed dante for that, clearly. he'd never felt the urge to touch, had spent most of his life afraid of it.
he'd excused himself from work for the next week, handed his uniform in for cleaning & was on his way home when... something inside of him clicked & decided to go see dante. maybe he could hang out at the shop with him & they could go home together. he didn't want to be alone with the kids when all he could think about was dante's arms around him.
the route from the station to the garage dante worked at was quite familiar, he took it often as he preferred driving home together with the alpha & it was on their way home anyway.
[text:dumbass 💜] finish up early? i'm outside. need you. [text:dumbass 💜] i meant like, i'm waiting for you to finish up but everything's okay. [text:dumbass 💜] i mean... not okay. we should really get home. [text:dumbass 💜] don't really wanna be out here when
silas had been so busy typing into his phone he did not see it coming. he was looking for a fire emoji, because... he was ..well, enjoying the little pictures & then everything went dark. when he woke, the first thing he noticed was the sting. next came the cuffs. his own fucking cuffs. on him. tight enough to cut into the flesh of his wrists. eyes snapped open, a growl on his lips & anger rumbled in his chest.
three guys.
they had him on the ground, on his back, undressed down to his shirt, which was torn, surprisingly enough. they really didn't like his layers, did they? one held his hands down, another his legs. the third was watching him, closely. "you're gonna fuckin' regret this." silas all but spat. he got his legs free, kicking at the one holding them - violently & he was quite sure he heard him whimper when he got his chin. omega or not, he was far from helpless in a fair fight. unfair fights like this... he could at least make them work for it.
dante, upon leaving the garage due to silas' unfinished messages would find two things. one; silas' dropped phone & secondly; blood. both in combination with the sweet, lingering scent of heat should give dante enough to go on.
meanwhile, in a small shed not far from the car shop, silas was giving the little alphas hell. they'd given up the ground & had hauled him to his feet, which got one of them a black eye. he knew what they came for & he'd rather die than bend over & take it. if they had been any less than three, silas would've had a much easier time, but alas... he was thrashing & raging while they tried quite desperately to hold him down, with his chest against the brick wall. the third, who'd mostly been watching, made sure to kick his legs apart when they had him somewhat secure - the other two used their body weight to hold him in place.
fuck. fucking bastards. he didn't think this was even a thing anymore, thought that mentality stayed in willowshire. he'd been wrong & he'd be paying the price for letting his guard down. the third pressed against his back & silas growled, trying again to pull free, but to no avail. fuckin' shit. fuck. third guy's hand dared placing itself against his mouth & the yell silas got out of him when he clamped down on his fingers was fuckin' music to his ears. he'd make them regret ever having been born - whatever happened.
the angry one lashed out in anger & pain, kneeing silas in the side, smacking his head into the wall, but oh the look on the guy's face. silas could revel in it forever. the other two were clearly ...worried. they were both looking like hell already. their faces bruises, scraped, scratched, bloody. their own fault, really.
yet they didn't learn their lesson yet. angry one was back against him, fingers wrapping around silas' throat instead this time, nowhere near his fangs & he squeezed. his jeans came down & that little voice in the back of his head whispered defeat, but silas would be fuckin' damned if he gave up already. claws raked down his chest, leaving light red marks behind, little hum into his ear - sounding dangerously close to a purr, but .. it wasn't. or he didn't accept it to be. only one fuckin' dumbass got to purr at him.
his vision was blurring... the lack of oxygen making his legs buckle & give in, but they held him up regardless, both idiots firmly lodged in their somewhat steadfast positions. angry guy seemingly had no intention to offer peace in the form of a breath for silas, no mercy & silas knew it was his own damn fault. one last push got him what he needed, though, finding enough force to hit angry guy in the face with the back of his head, which - in return got him to let go.
oh, good old air. angry guy had a bleeding nose now, which did amuse silas a little despite the grim circumstances. the other two scrambled to grab him again & resume their position, angry guy was back at it with that hand around silas' throat & for a moment he wondered if angry was even still thinking about fucking him. probably not. good. at least he went down with a fuckin' fight.
he wasn't done yet, though.
dante had impeccable timing as per usual. he'd followed silas' scent to the shed, although silas didn't think he'd quite been prepared for the sight when he kicked that door down. he felt like dante had never quite seen the dark side of the moon .. like the side of the world silas grew up in. regardless of that... oxygen or not, silas could see the anger on his alpha's face & that growl in combination with crimson?
best fuckin' sight silas had ever seen. "mine." yes. their eyes met & silas let golden shine. yours.
usually, he wouldn't have trusted dante to fight versus three other alphas, but one; they'd been sparring for a little over a year now, so... yeah. second; silas had done half the job already, so dante just had to finish them off, really. the omega gasped in relief when angry guy pulled away, the other two following suit.
the fight was, as expected, not long.
dante ...looked at him in silence for a good minute, like he was .. like his mind was running wild with maybe's. silas couldn't blame him. but he'd really like to get out of those cuffs. "back pocket. key. dante. key." they came off with a click & silas sighed in relief, rubbing his sore wrists. his struggles had chaffed the skin... quite a lot. he'd deal with that at home. for now though... jeans back up, belt in place & he froze momentarily when dante put his jacket on him, followed by an arm. "...thanks."
"alpha's got you."
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rharyx · 2 years ago
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Now that the first season of Bleach TYBW is over, might as well type up my thoughts.
Overall, it was good. Like a solid 8/10, but I can't not get hung up on the things that keep it from being a 9/10 or a 10/10.
The first of which is the pacing.
We really blew through 62 chapters in just 13 episodes, and now we're already 1/3 of the way through the arc. Even if they slow down going forward, I honestly don't know how we're going to reach 52 episodes of this unless Kubo writes extra scenarios for, like, 10 whole episodes.
I get that they wanted to end the season on a dramatic spot, and the Zangetsu twist is the perfect place to do that, but I feel it compromised a bit in doing so.
Some stuff like the bankai thefts and character deaths just kinda came and went because they were speeding through things the way they were. The dramatic tension for a lot of moments just wasn't there because we were already on the next scene.
Not that I want the anime's pacing to be as awful as the Arrancar arc's, where they were fighting Nnoitra for what felt like 20 episodes straight, but this was leaning into Shaman King 2021 territory, which was a great example of what happens when you don't let scenes and character moments breathe. You never want your adaptation to be like Shaman King 2021.
I mean, the fight between Isshin and White was, what, four minutes long? Five?
I just hope they do slow down going forward. Let moments simmer and settle before moving into the next one.
My next small nitpick is the music.
Most of the tracks are just remixes of older songs, and while a few are cool, most of them either felt underwhelming or just weren't noticeable enough to leave an impression. Felt like elevator music part of the time.
Which sucks because Bleach is known for having banger music.
And if we're talking about moments not having the impact they should due to bad pacing, we need to address that moments can also not have the impact the should due to poor music selection as well. There were a few moments were there was a scene that was supposed to hold a lot of weight, but didn't because the music felt wrong for the scene.
Anyway, that's a minor complaint, but sound design is a real thing and shouldn't be overlooked.
And lastly, the art.
This isn't a complaint towards the anime itself, but the fans who've been saying that every episode has been "movie quality" since the start. Like, dudes...it has not. It's pretty, for sure, and has better effects and lighting than the original series, but c'mon. This is still Studio Pierrot, and there are a lot of scenes even in the first episode were characters look super off-model. And I'm not just talking about during quick between frames or when a character's far away, but even moments when a character is the main focus of the shot and the camera lingers on them.
Even the original series, especially towards the end of the Arrancar arc, where the characters tended to consistently look way closer to Kubo's style than what we were getting in parts of TYBW.
Now art =/= animation, and on the animation side of things, they were pretty fuckin good this season. There were a bunch of fantastic sequences, like the entirety of both Yhwach fights, but even then let's not delude ourselves into thinking they were giving us movie quality stuff start to finish. The Genryusai fight? Yeah, sure, THAT'S movie quality. But the stiff animations from Ebern and Quilge in episode 3? No way.
Again, this is mainly a bone I'm picking with fanboys and not the show itself, but I am hoping for future seasons to be more careful with characters staying on model. I never put that much faith in Pierrot, though, I understand they're not ufotable or Mappa lol.
So overall, I'm pleased with what we got, and I'm obviously just happy to have Bleach back in general after all these years, but I want the next batch of episodes to be even better because these are things I can't help but complain about in the back of my head while watching the episodes.
And for my last bit of complaining, let's talk about the dub.
They got a good 2/3rds of the original cast back, which is great, but man do the recast characters just not hit. Chad 3.0 is good -- I never liked Jamieson Price as Chad, and this new guy sounds closer to Marc Worden's [perfect] portrayal, so I'm good there -- but everyone else? Eh.
Shinji just doesn't sound right without Roger Craig Smith, and Ukitake not being Liam O'Brien is a crime.
I'm sure this is just because the show is non-union again, because for some reason they just don't care about Bleach, but a lot of these recasts seem to have been completely avoidable.
And outside of the recasts, we have the translators not knowing how to pronounce stuff, which annoys me personally and I know it's not surprising since they've ALWAYS mispronounced half the characters' names in the dub (Ulquiorra Cifer as "shiffer," Nnoitra Gilga as "noy-tora gill-guh," Sousuke Aizen as "sasuke," etc.). And yeah, most of the time it's just because Kubo hadn't released the proper spellings for a bunch of these characters names so they were [mostly] just going off the katakana directly, but man it hurts to hear Yhwach pronounced as "yuhabaha."
I'm already expecting half the rest of the Quincies' names to be said wrong, but I'll control my anger somehow.
Ignoring all that, it's great to hear JYB as Ichigo again, and I'm glad they picked up on the significance of Zangetsu and Yhwach sharing an actor and getting Richard Epcar back (who's absolutely killing it, btw). Whenever I hear a returning voice actor in an episode, I'm at peace and hit with nostalgia.
Anyway, done complaining.
New season good, but they need to work on the pacing, music, and art. And the dub needs to learn how to pay their actors and pronounce things better.
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dracoscene · 4 years ago
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Hi friend! Just ran across your work and I love it!! 😍🤍 would you be willing to write something angsty where the reader overhears him talking to Blaise about how clingy she is and decides to give him space only to find out he was taking about Pansy? And then all is good and there so much fluff and love 💕
Crossed Wires | Draco Malfoy x Reader
Contains: angst, kinda mean Draco, FLUFF
A/N: Thank you so so much for the request, hope this is close to what you wanted!
Word count: 1.6k
_______________________________
"She's pathetic, Blaise."
You came to a halt when you heard the familiar voice of your boyfriend.
"No matter where I go, she's there, all the time. Like a bloody dog." His voice was filled with pure hate. It felt as if the blood in your veins froze as the words fell from his lips.
"What do you expect mate, this girl is head over heels for you. Don't you see the drool on her chin everytime you're within a five mile radius of her?"
Draco scoffed at his friend's words. "It's repulsive."
Repulsive. You weren't unfamiliar with those kind of words coming from him. He almost used them on a daily basis; when students ran past him in the hallways, when Crabbe and Goyle stuffed their faces with pastries at dinner, when first years cried after Draco had just threatened to hex them, or when Potter just so much did as breathe. What you were unfamiliar with, was him using those words in connection with you, and it made you feel sick to your stomach.
A tap on your shoulder ripped you from your thoughts, making you flinch. You turned around to see Pansy standing behind you with her hands up.
"Woah there, didn't mean to scare you." She laughed, waiting for a response that didn't come.
Pansy cleared her throat as she re-adjusted the bag on her shoulders. "So, do you think Draco and Blaise are here already?" Shit. It totally slipped your mind that the reason you came here was the study date the four of you agreed on having before dinner. You watched Pansy silently as she took a few steps forward to look around the bookshelf you two were standing next to.
"Found them!"
You didn't care to move, all you wanted to do was just turn around and get out of there, dreading to face Draco after what he'd just said. Still, you followed Pansy to where the boys were sitting.
Your heartbeat skyrocketed when you spotted the blonde already looking in your direction, the annoyance in his face very much visible. Your eyes met for a moment before you felt the urge to look away, feeling small under his gaze.
Confusion was growing inside of Draco when you took the free space on the couch next to Blaise and not him like you usually did. It felt weird doing so, but you were too embarrassed to sit next to him right now, knowing that he probably wouldn't want you to anyway.
Blaise's eyes alternated between you and Draco, trying to figure out what was going on when Pansy dropped her bag with a loud thud before making herself comfortable next to Draco, grinning. "Well then, shall we begin?"
Minutes went by like hours, the only sounds being the turning of pages and the occasional scoffs coming from Pansy when she didn't understand something in the Potions book.
"Draco could you help me with th-"
"No."
Draco didn't even bother to look at the book in front of him. His eyes had been burning into you from the second you sat down next to his friend. You shifted in your seat, staring at that one sentence in your book that you were trying to read for the seventh time now, but you just couldn't focus long enough. Your cheeks were on fire, feeling utterly intimidated by your boyfriends stare.
After what felt like an eternity, Pansy and Blaise started packing up their books. Draco didn't even move a muscle.
"See you at dinner then." Blaise stated before leaving the library with Pansy by his side. You hurried to gather your stuff, trying to catch up to them, but a firm grasp on your wrist stopped you.
"Why are you ignoring me?" Draco's voice was stern, but you could still make out a hint of insecurity.
"I wasn't ignoring you, I'm just.. tired I guess? Oh and I've been having this awful headache all day and I don't really want to bother you with that so I think I should just g-"
"I'm not stupid, y/n." he cut you off. "I know when something's up with you. What is it?"
You didn't know what to say. Confronting him about what you heard would've been the mature way to handle things, but you were hurt. Hurt about the way he talked about you, and especially how he did it; behind your back. So, you removed your hand from his grasp and looked up at him. "I'll go now. I know you don't want to have me around anyway, so don't act like you care."
You left, leaving Draco completely baffled. If you wouldn't have been in such a hurry to get away, if you would've looked a little more closely, you might have seen the effect your words had on him.
He did care. A lot.
__________________________
Draco knew you probably wouldn't want him to sit next you during dinner, that's why he did exactly that. He wasn't just going to let this go, so he plopped down next to you.
Your whole body tensed up, and Draco noticed.
The poor boy was confused as ever, you could almost see his brain working with high speed, thinking of every encounter and every conversation with you he had that day, trying to figure out what in the world he's done that made you avoid him.
Confusion turned into frustration real fast when he just couldn't seem to think of anything.
"This is ridiculous, y/n." his voice was barely above a whisper, but the desperation in it was loud and clear. "Will you just tell me what the bloody hell is going on?"
Draco's eyes followed your every move as you turned to look at him. "Can we go somewhere else?" your voice was shaking and you could feel a lump forming in your throat.
He gave you a quick nod before standing up and taking your hand to lead you out of the Great Hall. Pansy called out his name when you two walked past her, but Draco simply waved her off.
The laughter and chatting of students stopped when the doors closed behind you. He led you a little further away with your hand still in his. You felt your heart pounding in your chest when he turned to look at you, it was beating so fast you were scared he might hear it.
"Will you talk to me now?" his thumb started caressing the top of your hand when he saw how nervous you were, as an attempt to calm you down. "I need to know what's going on, did I do something?" "What happened?"
Tears fiilled your eyes when you replayed the words in your head.
"She's pathetic."
"Like a bloody dog."
"Y/n?" his soft voice pulled you out of your thoughts.
"I heard what you said." You tried your hardest to keep your composure. "In the library, about how I'm always with you and how pathetic you think that is." Your voice broke at that last part.
Draco's face fell when he realized that you thought his words were directed to you. Thinking about how hurt by his words you must've been made his heart break.
"Darling." he breathed out, gentle hands cupping your cheeks as he used his thumb to wipe away the single tear that fell from your eye. "I wasn’t talking about you."
You furrowed your brows as confusion replaced the hurt look on your face. "Huh?"
"It was Parkinson I was talking about, she's been bothering me the whole bloody day."
You felt your face heat up in embarrassment, the color of your cheeks became a crimson red, which you tried to hide as best as you could by covering your face with both of your hands.
Draco let out a laugh as he took your hands into his and pulled you into a hug, his head resting on yours. "I'm so so stupid, oh my god." your voice was muffled by the fabric of his shirt.
"Sometimes." he chuckled while rubbing soothing circles on your back with his hands. "You should know better than to think I’d ever talk about you like this, love."
"I know, I'm sorry." you lifted you head and looked up at him through wet eyelashes, hands resting flat against his upper body.
"Merlin y/n, I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you." he planted a kiss on your forehead, lingering for a second before you buried your face back into his chest. Your arms draped around his waist, holding fast onto him.
The creaking of doors made Draco's head shoot up, looking in the direction of approaching footsteps. His face turned into a sneer as soon as he saw Pansy turn around the corner, looking for him.
"Draco why aren't you in th- oh. Am I interrupting something?" Her gaze landed on you.
You felt the muscles in Draco's arms flex around your body as he pulled you even closer into his chest like he was trying to protect you from her prying eyes.
"For fucks sake, Parkinson. Get lost." he snapped at her, voice brimming with venom. This was all it took for Pansy to leave as fast as she came.
Draco scoffed before he let one arm fall to his side, leaving the other one around your waist to keep you close.
"Pathetic, isn't she?" You leaned into him, smiling. Draco couldn't help the laugh that escaped his lips at your statement.
"Hey" he grabbed your chin, lifting it so you were looking at him. "I love you, always will. You know that, right?"
You gave him a reassuring nod before planting a kiss on his lips. "Love you too, Dray. More than anything."
2K notes · View notes
spencersawkward · 4 years ago
Note
if you feel comfortable with it, I’d love a prof Spence where reader is a student and goes to office hours to initiate ~smutty goodness~ but Spencer is reluctant at first bc his job but they flirt more and eventually sleep together
me n my professor kink when i saw this: 😏 anyway yes i am quite comfortable writing about this lol. i took some ✨creative liberties✨ with your request so i'm sorry if it isn't exactly what you wanted! 
summary: reader is a student in Dr. Reid’s class, but she’s been something of a poor student-- office hours are the only solution.
relationship: Fem!Reader/Professor!Spencer
content warnings: unprotected penetrative sex, fingering, rough sex, super brief hair-pulling, creampie, dirty talk, spanking, age gap, degradation-- he gets pretty dominant oops.
word count: 4.5k
masterlist
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popping in a piece of gum, I make my way to the back of the hall. there are a few people here already, but it's a little early. I'm never early. in fact, I'm usually late; my other class is on the other side of campus, and getting here involves a lot of embarrassing speed-walking.
but here I am, five minutes ahead of schedule and actually in a decent seat. as I flip open my textbook and pull my laptop out of my bag to prepare to take notes, my gaze slides down to the corner of the room, where Dr. Reid is standing up with a pile of papers. he walks over to the girl in the front row, handing her the stack and gesturing for her to pass it along.
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. he's a total luddite. the first day, Dr. Reid spent about ten minutes rambling about the importance of reading from a physical book rather than online sources-- which, although I definitely agree with, means a lot more lugging around folders and organizing all the readings he gives out. if he wasn't so hot, I would have switched into another course.
and I know it's wrong to be daydreaming about my professor slamming me into a wall while he discusses the intricacies of quantum theory. the complete cliché of it is embarrassing. but still, I just can't stop thinking about him: how his fingers would feel around my throat, the smooth wooden surface of his desk against my cheek as he bends me over and pulls my panties to the side--
"glad to see you've decided to join us, today, Ms. Y/L/N." Dr. Reid's voice startles me out of my thoughts. he's standing towards the front of the room while students file in. his hands are resting in his pockets with his eyebrows pleasantly raised.
"glad to see you've noticed." I retort, too irritated with his comment to care about being polite.
a couple people look at me. even though I'm generally not on time, he tends to just glance my way when I walk in and leaves it at that. I know he doesn't like it, although I personally don't care. I hate this course.
he seems visibly surprised by my response but doesn't reply, gaze lingering on mine before he turns to speak to a student trying to get his attention. I bite back a smile. fucking asshole.
as usual, Dr. Reid writes in his thin, messy lettering on the board while wandering around the front of the room. he's quite fidgety, even though his voice doesn't betray any sort of nervousness. it's like he's naturally overactive.
every word out of his mouth is enunciated, sometimes spoken faster when he gets particularly impassioned by the subject. he's interesting to look at, too. messy curls and a nice suit, stubble that straddles the line between refinement and ruggedness.
I type quickly, but it isn't fast enough and the strange illustrations he does on the board only complicate things. I try to write them down in my notebook, but my handwriting is jagged; sometimes it's hard to read. when a student raises her hand for a clarification, I take the opportunity to catch up.
my head jerks up as soon as I'm finished and he's looking at me while he speaks. even from so many feet away, the intensity strikes me. he's gesticulating and crossing the room. I hold eye contact.
I wonder if he dates often; a couple of the girls in my row always stare at him throughout the lectures. he seems to be completely unaware of the effect he has on people. sometimes I'll see him in the hallway and he has his nose buried in a book, or a to-go cup of coffee, or both. either way, there seems to be no more room in that head of his for romance.
which, naturally, makes me curious about how he looks when he's on the edge of orgasm. if that composure is replaced with a contorted pleasure. I want to break him.
it's like he can read my thoughts, because Dr. Reid averts his gaze. my stomach twists with a strange anticipation. he avoids looking my way for the rest of the time.
towards the end of class, I start to pack my things to go. I have three papers to write, and my utter lack of interest in this is making me eager to leave. I shove my textbook into my bag the second my professor starts to make closing remarks.
"don't forget that we have a midterm in two weeks!" he says in a slightly louder voice as people start to move around. "if you have any questions, my office hours are posted on the bulletin board outside."
at this, my eyebrows rise. I forgot about the midterm. I have a study calendar set up for all my subjects, but I've purposefully been putting this one off. I'm not super into math. and it doesn't help that most of my time is spent not listening. when I am, it doesn't make sense.
as I stand up and gather my stuff, I hear someone clearing their throat a couple feet away. my head turns to see Dr. Reid leaning against his desk.
"Ms. Y/L/N, can I see you for a second?"
my heart stutters in my chest. is this about my attitude? he's never asked to see me outside of lessons before.
I frown, making my way to him with a deliberate pace. the tension in the room builds as I watch the last of his students shuffle out of the room. my head turns from the door to him; my breath catches a little in my throat at the set of his jaw. part of me hopes I get yelled at.
"I'm concerned about your participation in this class." he says. his voice isn't cruel, but it is brutally honest— which is worse. participation? I feel my fist clench at my side. my professors don't usually say anything if you aren't doing things up to their expectations; if you aren't, then they give you a bad grade. simple as that.
"is this about me being late?" I ask. he lets out a sigh before answering. he sounds disappointed.
"you're constantly tardy, and when you hand in your homework, you barely seem to have put in the effort. it's messy."
"messy?" I start to get annoyed. I'm only doing this so that I can get my degree. it's a fucking requirement. even though I'm not the biggest fan of mathematics, I still do my best and hand in my assignments on time. plus, the latest I arrive is five minutes-- it's not like I'm stumbling in halfway through the lesson.
"you've never come to office hours to ask for help or explained your lateness, which I, as your professor, would have appreciated." he scolds. honestly, I don't know what to say. my eyes narrow.
"I have my studio class on the other side of campus." I explain. "I should have emailed about that and I'm sorry, but I'm also not being lax about my work."
he goes around to the other side of his desk and glances up at me while he organizes some loose documents to pack away. he looks way too good when he's exasperated: his hands tighten around the papers, his eyebrows come together in this cute way. his tie is a little crooked, too.
"are you struggling with the content?"
"sometimes, yeah. but I can handle reaching out for help if I need it." I reply. he's pissing me off with these questions. I can see from the expression on his face that he's surprised by my reaction.
"really?" he slides some books into his messenger bag. that was definitely sarcastic; I know it was. "because it doesn't really seem like you have."
"I like to find help on my own." I shoulder my bag and cross my arms over my chest. there's no way he's gonna talk to me like that and expect me to not respond in kind.
"I'm reserving a slot on Wednesday evening for you," he looks up and holds my gaze. hazel irises that dare me to challenge him further. "I want you in office hours so that we can figure out how you're gonna catch up before the midterm."
"fine." I turn on my heel and leave. I know I'm not supposed to talk to my professor like that, or even to behave with such apprehension. but something about him makes me angry in the kind of way that settles in my stomach. I hate that he's right. I'm not going to do well on that damn test if I don't get some help.
but that doesn't mean I can't have some fun with it.
when I rush into his office on Wednesday evening, the sun is just starting to set through his window. there's a pinkish glow that smooths over Dr. Reid's desk as he glances up at me. I had to run to get here.
"you're late." he nods to the clock on the wall. I roll my eyes.
"only one minute, though. I had another class."
he sighs and folds his hands on his desk. "how are you doing today, Ms. Y/L/N?" a strangely polite question for the look on his face. he's frustrated with me.
"I'm quite well, Dr. Reid." I smile brightly, slightly excited by the anger on his face, and sit at the chair in front of his desk.
"I didn't know you were interested in art." he says simply. I'm confused for a moment before I remember that I told him that the course before his is a studio lesson.
"I didn't know you cared."
"do you make a habit of that?" he quirks an eyebrow.
"of what?" my expression is saccharine.
"being rude to people who control your grades."
"unless you're considering being unethical in your practices and allowing your personal opinion of me to influence my grade, then no." I counter. he's silent for a moment, taking in my words like they've left a mark on him.
"well, you'd most likely fail if I asked you to leave my office hours right now. whose fault would that be?" he fidgets with his hands and leans forward just a bit, his voice dropping to a lower tone. I bite back a smile.
"you wouldn't."
"and why is that?" he baits.
"because you're not a shitty professor, Dr. Reid," I lean back in my chair and cross my legs. "as angry as you are, you wouldn't be able to live with yourself if you kicked me— a struggling student— out of here for giving you a little attitude."
"a little attitude?" he scoffs. "you've spent the whole semester completely ambivalent."
"not completely." I shrug.
"Y/N, you draw all over your tests and leave at least one problem half-finished every time. you obviously aren't learning." he chuckles mirthlessly. I concede this point; I like to doodle when I'm bored. and there's absolutely nothing more boring to me than numbers.
"okay," I sit up and rest my elbows on the edge of his desk, staring at him. "then teach me."
Dr. Reid holds my gaze for a long moment. we're suspended, it seems, as his lips part and he finds himself speechless. the way I said the words obviously has another layer to it-- he just has to decide whether or not to take the bait.
"what are you struggling with?" he clears his throat and sits up a bit straighter in his seat. that answers my question, I guess. I poke my tongue between my teeth gently, but then pull out my notebook and flip it to a page with some problems outlined on it.
"these." I toss the thing onto his side and he begins to run through the assignment. I watch him pick up a pen and start to explain the steps, slipping into his usual educational tone. his shoulders relax a little as he writes.
I can't see right from the angle I'm at, so I stand and come around onto his side. I hear him pause his speaking for a moment at my proximity, but he doesn't move away.
"does that make sense?" he asks me once he's finished running through the first problem. he basically did all the work. the professor's head turns to gauge my reaction to the explanation, but his eye line is right at the hem of my skirt-- which is already pretty short. for all his attempts to be subtle, he gulps and looks up at me.
"mostly." I brush a piece of hair behind my ear and pretend to scratch at a spot on my upper thigh, dragging the edge of my skirt with it until he can see the smooth skin beneath, practically begging for his touch. "can I ask you a question?"
"sure." he keeps his eyes almost too focused on mine. I try to hide the smile tugging at my lips. now or never, I guess.
"what's your policy on professor/student relationships?"
"my-- my what?" this time, he's audibly scattered when he turns to me. his eyes are wide, dark. even he can't hide his feelings.
"you know," I run my fingertips over the tweed shoulder of his jacket. I can sense the tension beneath his clothes. "like, your policy on fucking a student."
"I--" his cheeks turn pink. he's flustered, albeit not rejecting my touch. "I've never had to think about it before."
"hmm," I look off to the side as if considering this point. his chair is fully turned to face me now, and I'm standing in front of him, almost completely his for the taking. all he has to do is close the gap. "well, what are you thinking about it right now?"
"it's wrong." he stumbles over the words.
"why?"
"well, I mean, you're a student--"
"for a semester that's almost over." I cut him off. he opens and closes his mouth. I take a deep breath, toying with the hem of my skirt. "I know you've been looking at me during class."
"w-what?"
"you're pretty good at hiding it, but you call on me a lot and you get all messed up when I hold eye contact too long during lectures." I say.
he looks down and back up apologetically. he's just sitting there, lap wide open. so I do what any sane girl in my position would do: I climb into it, straddling him and resting my arms around his neck. he sucks in a breath.
"you pretend I'm such a pain," I lean down by his ear, my core drawing over his pants. he tenses as I speak. "but you like that I'm your little problem."
"Y/N..." he trails off, but his hips are bucking up into mine.
"see?" I look between our bodies at his movements, then at him. I smirk as I look into those lust-darkened eyes. after a moment of him not speaking, I straighten. "look, I'll leave you alone if it really bothers you--"
as I start to get off his lap, he grabs me and pulls me back down. the force hits my center at just the right angle and I let out a slight mewl. he hears the sound and before I can register the pleasure, he grabs my face and yanks me closer to kiss him.
god, he feels so good. I rock my hips against his while our lips pass over each other hungrily. so much tension built up over the past few months, so many thoughts I've had of him, now coming to fruition. it's amazing.
"not so 'wrong' now, is it?" I chuckle against his mouth.
"shut up." he orders. one moment of broken contact to slide my top over my head and throw it on the floor.
I sigh as he starts to kiss across my jaw and down my throat. "I like when you talk like that, Dr. Reid."
one hand grips my hips tighter and he releases a groan against my skin.
"is that why you're such a fucking brat in my class?" he bites my collarbone and I moan. "because you want me to put you in your place?"
"mhmm." I hum. his fingertips move under my skirt, sliding up my thighs and toying with the waistband of my panties. he teases me by grazing my slit over the fabric, inhaling sharply at the wet patch.
"sitting in the back of my room, fucking dripping..." he mumbles to himself as he starts to rub me.
"touch me." I breathe out, trying to gain the friction that I need.
"not if you're gonna be a brat." he removes his hand and I let out a frustrated noise as I try to find the pressure I need elsewhere by grinding down on him. he grunts at the way I pant into his mouth, trying to kiss him with every chance I get. his lips are so smooth and sweet against mine. there's something affectionate about it even in its ferocity.
"I'll be good." I practically beg.
"that's what I thought." he slides his tongue over his bottom lip as he watches me whimper on top of him.
"come on, Spencer..." I use the name for the first time and he grabs my face in his hand, squeezing my cheeks.
"not my name, sweetheart." he stares into my eyes expectantly and I smirk.
"you're fucked up, doctor."
"so are you."
after he says that, he lifts me off his lap and stands up, pushing between my shoulder blades until my face is pressed onto the desk. I let out a needy whine, wiggle my ass back in hopes of finding his crotch, but he's not willing to give me that, yet.
instead, he gently touches my skirt, flipping it up so that he can see my ass. immediately, he starts to knead it. my palms are pressed flat against the desk with anticipation, silently thankful that my panties are still on. I think I'd be dripping down my thighs if they weren't.
"are you gonna be more respectful?" his voice is low, one hand tracing over my back. I shake.
"mhmm."
"I won't spank you if you don't use your words, sweetheart."
"yes." I choke out, no longer wanting to give any sort of resistance. I had no idea there was this side of him, and I love it.
he loves it too, apparently, because his hand comes down sharply on my ass. I yelp at the contact and he runs his fingers over the point of impact, rubbing the flesh gently.
"too hard, baby?" he checks.
"harder." I beg. I can't see his face, but I can sense his smile as if it's my own. his palm hits me again, and I gasp.
"you like being punished?"
"yes." strangled and desperate.
he slips his finger beneath the fabric of my panties, collecting my essence and letting out a quiet moan when he feels me. I push my hips against his fingers, partly expecting him to remove all the pressure, but he doesn't bother waiting.
he slips his index inside and I gasp. starts to push in and out, his silence proving his arousal. I can practically feel his eyes on me. the pace increases a bit and he slides in his middle finger. I buck against the desk.
"oh fuck!" I cry out as he starts to go faster. he curls them against my walls and I arch my back.
"two fingers and you're already breaking?" Spencer chuckles as he moves inside me. he keeps one hand on my ass while he does it, starting to finger me at a ridiculous speed while I pant and moan and cry.
"I--" I gulp down air. "I need you in it."
he bends down by my ear, never breaking his rhythm. my legs are shaking from the force. "you need my cock?"
"yes," I feel myself closing in around him. "god, yes."
"you're lucky I wanna fuck you so bad." he mutters. I grin as I hear the clink of his belt coming undone, the sliding through the belt loops, the sound of him stripping down to nothing. I can feel my excitement on the inside of my thighs, spread around by his reckless fingers as he removes my panties and skirt.
he grinds himself against my pussy, coating himself in me, while he releases low, longing moans. I suck in a breath when the head pushes in, every inch pushing me open a little more. I don't have the ability to form words, so I bite my lip and grip onto the edge of the desk until my knuckles turn white.
his breath stops for a moment before he groans.
"so ready for me."
he's not even all the way in, and he has to pause to let me adjust. when he taps the inside of my thigh for me to part them more, I do it quickly and beg him to fill me up. I can barely take the pressure between my hips, but it burns in an inviting way.
"keep going." I direct him. he runs his hands over the curve of my waist and starts to thrust into me at a rate that leaves me panting. it's not too fast or slow, just impatient and needy. every sound that spills from his lips turns me on more.
"where'd the attitude go, huh?" he digs his hips into mine. his cock hits my cervix and I squeak against the wood, but he holds my back down. I don't even try to argue with him, too overcome with the pleasure that's coursing through my limbs. he starts to build up his speed. "don't have much to say when you're getting fucked?"
"Dr. Reid--" I moan.
he plows into me so hard, the desk shifts on the floor and he grabs my ass with both hands.
"take it, baby. fucking take it."
I get up on my elbows to look behind me, just to glimpse how he looks as he gets closer. his curls have fallen more in his face, and his shirt is gone. I want to touch him desperately, to feel the lovely skin of his torso and arms and everything else, but he keeps me down for the most part. all I get is the sight of his mouth open and his hips moving quickly against mine.
"look at me, there you go." he grabs my face and holds me there, our eyes locked. mine are welling at the sheer overwhelming pleasure inside, but his are dark and intense. they search mine for something I can only hope to offer.
"that feels so good, Dr. Reid." I pant. he bites his lip as he watches my mouth hanging open in lecherous shock.
"I bet it does," he explores my body. "coming in here, hoping I fuck you like you deserve. you're lucky I'm going easy on you."
"thank you." I whine.
"you might need some extra lessons, yeah?" he grunts out, moving into me with a bruising force.
"yes, please." I whisper. my voice is practically gone at this point, my mind entirely focused on the knot building in my stomach.
"what was that, baby?" he pulls my hair gently.
"yes— fuck— yes, please, Dr. Reid."
"what a beautiful girl." he smirks. I whimper when he runs his fingernails down my ribcage. I can feel it coming from the way he starts to move tumultuously, every thrust pushing harder and seeking more release. it's fervent, how he takes me and grips my hips like the force itself will push him over the edge.
"I'm so close..." I breathe out as I try for as much friction as I can.
"show me," he drops down so his stomach is flush to my back. "show me how you cum, Y/N."
the way he says my name-- husky and warm and full of lust-- causes me to snap. I cry out as he reaches around to clamp a hand around my mouth, climaxing and pulsing around his dick as I drop down against the surface again. I want him to finish inside, so I do my best to keep him here. and his thrusts are getting more staccato as he chases the sensation my walls create.
"can I fill you, angel?" he asks. he's breathing right by my ear, and the feeling is sending shivers down my spine. I love how his weight feels.
"yes." I moan and he slides his fingers into my mouth. I suck on them while he orgasms, jerking into my pussy and letting out unholy sounds of ecstasy. he says unintelligible things in the throes of his orgasm. pounds into me until I'm sure I won't be able to walk tomorrow.
"jesus christ, Y/N." he slows to a stop. when he pulls his cock out of me, the absence makes me whine. I miss his body already.
"oh my god." I clench my hands into fists as I try to catch my breath. I'm still bent over the desk as though I've been completely sapped of all my energy. I suppose I have. he doesn't touch me for a moment in the spirit of letting me recover from the small shudders still running over my skin.
"that was great." he says after we've both had time to fill our lungs. I push myself onto my elbows again.
"correct." I grin and straighten up more until I'm standing. he stares at me, at the cum now dripping down my legs, entranced.
"let me get you something to clean up." he snaps out of it a little. I can't stop looking at him, either, in love with the way he moves and the way he breathes after exerting himself on my body.
"come here." I bite my lip. for some reason, despite what we just did, this is scarier than everything else. he steps closer and I reach up, kiss him softly. part of me worries that he'll pull away and be terrified. maybe that he'll tell me that I've read too much into this.
he's much gentler than before. our first kiss was full of need and primal desire, but this is more affectionate. I remove myself from his embrace.
"okay, you can go now." I giggle. his fingertips linger on my waist and he smiles. I push his shoulder. "I literally have your cum all over me-- go."
"fine." he starts to put his clothes on.
"does this mean I get an A?" I joke. Spencer shakes his head.
"nice try. when we're done cleaning you up, we're gonna sit down and figure this out."
I let out a whine, and he kisses my cheek before looking me in the eyes. "it'll be fun. I promise."
"math is not fun."
"I can't believe I like a girl who doesn't enjoy such a beautiful subject." he rolls his eyes and I giggle. he's perfect.
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clementinesjourney · 3 years ago
Text
Record Shop Funk - Pt. 1 Like real people do
A.N. : Hey guys, so i had this idea yesterday, and i really hope you'll like it. <3
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
Words: 1,9k
Pairing: camboy!Steve x Reader, roommate!Bucky x reader, Stucky x reader (as the story goes)
Warnings: nothing yet :)
Summary: Who knew that having a secret crush, then a hearbreak will end in such a sweet thing..
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You and Bucky shared an apartment above the recordshop you both worked in. Your aunt was the owner of both, so it was a fairly good payment, and a fairly good apartment for a cheap price. It was a bright and big apartment with two bedrooms, so your decided to rent it out, all while searching for a helper to the shop downstairs. When Bucky came in applying for the job, you asked out of joke if he needs a place to live since you had seen around 5 people already and none of them felt right. His eyes lit up as he said he is in fact looking for a place. Since he was fitting for a job, and looked like a decent guy, you congratulated him on his new job, and asked if he wants to see the place today. You still had one and a half hour to close, but after it you would gladly show him the apartment.
He had nothing better to do, so he agreed to it, feeling happy about having a job he might actually like and a coworker he might actually will get along with.
-Do you drink coffee? I was thinking of getting one in the meantime. My friend works close by, and they make the best coffee in town. - He asked.
-I could go for one thank you - you smiled at him - iced cold-brew, no sugar, i'm sweet enough.. - you said with a smile.
He couldn't help but smile back at the joke. When he arrived at the café, he saw his friend Steve flirting with a girl whom he could visibly see trembling just cause he talked to her. Steve always had his way with girls, ever since the serum of course. After he broke up with Peggy, it was mostly just hookups, never finding a girl worth keeping around. Not as if they werent kind, pretty or good to him, it just never felt right. Bucky smiled at his friend, Steve immediately shifted his gaze from the girl, to a very happy Bucky.
-Did you get the job?
-Better.. I got the job, and she has a room for rent which i'll see tonight.
-Wow Bucky, i didn't know you were even better then i am.. sooo how does she look? - asked Steve with a slight wiggle of his eyebrows. He wanted Bucky to get a girl since ages and hearing this, his mind immediately ventured there.
-5'7, ginger, green eyes, freckles, curvy just the right places. why?
-Nothing Buck.. nothing.. - Steve said smirking at his friend.. Bucky never realized when he liked a girl, so he never really acted on it. He last had a woman back in the 40's.
-Sooo i know you didn't come to have chat with me, one black coffee and.. ?
-ah, iced cold-brew, no sugar..
After paying for the coffee, he hurried back to the shop, hoping to get to know his coworker a little bit better.
You thanked him for the coffee, and when you tried to pay, he refused.
-Next round's mine then. - You smiled at him with your 1000 watt smile, which again he couldn't help but smile back at.
-So tell me about you Bucky, what do you do in your freetime?
-Nothing really, just reading, spending time with my friends, kind of thats it.. I have a boring life really. What about you?
-Well, i work here, then i go home and listen to music, cook, god i love to cook, thats a big pro for the apartment.. just saying. - you said with a playful wink. - besides that nothing much. Sometimes i go to a nearby bar with my friends maybe concerts and thats it.
-I like washing dishes if that helps with the application for the room. - he said with a shy laugh which made your heart skip a beat.
- It sure does.. Do you leave your stuff around?
-No i'm a tidy person.. thank you very much. - he said cockily (just for the sake of being funny really).
-Okay okay, if you like it you can have the room, just promise to tell if you bring up a girl so i can leave. The walls are kind of thin.
-It's okay, i don't really...
-Oh um i'm sorry, i didn't meant to intrude, it just something i would really like everyone to add to their rental contracts. - you chuckled embarassed.
-Noo no, it's okay, i'm not embarassed by it. I guess i don't want hook ups, if one day there's someone i'll tell in advance.
-yea me too, i promise. If you end up renting it anyway haha. on that note it's time to close so i can show the room in a min.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
When you opened the door to the apartment Buckyquietly took in it all. It was really bright, white walls with paintings all over the walls, plants in every corner or shelf you can put one on, a comfy looking mustard couch, aztec-y rug under the coffeetable, and a wall fully shelved, filled with books and little trinkets, it looked like a home he never had a chance to have. The livingroom had an american kitchen on the side, island in the middle of the kitchen area, it was white, and blue which reminded him of greece, down the hallway you showed him the bathroom which of course had a lot of plants that liked the atmosphere of a bathroom, a shower in the corner and a bathtub under the window. You then showed the empty room he could rent out. It only had a shelf and a wardrobe, and a queen sized bed. No decorations, no signs of anybody ever living there. You then pointed to the room the opposit of what could possibly be Bucky's in the future, saying that is yours. You didn't show your room, he wasn't gonna go in there anyway, and showing your most private space on the first day didn't seem like a good idea either. You then invited him out to the balcony, watching the setting sun, smoking a cigarette.
-So thats about it, what do you think?
-I really like it, and i mean.. my workplace is pretty close so thats a plus, also you said something about cooking all the time.. sooo if it's alright with you i would love to rent it out.
-It's settled then roomie. I'll give you the keys, you can move in whenever you want to. Tomorrow we are closed, so maybe that would be ideal.
-Yea, then tomorrow it is then. I'll ask my friend to help, then we can maybe hang a bit if you're free.
-Sure, i have nothing planned, and it's good to know who i'll be living with. - you said with a smile.
Before closing the door, you said your goodbyes, and you realized what did you just do, after he wished you good night with a killer halfsmile that almost had your knees buckle. You just agreed to living together with possibly the most handsome man you've ever seen who is also your new coworker, so you will basically spend most of your time with him.. Guess we'll see how this goes you thought to yourself.
Morning came soon enough, you were sitting out on the balcony when you saw Bucky arrive with a very tall, just as handsome man, carrying boxes of books, and bags of clothing. Bucky looked up at the balcony, waving towards you, you waved back, then moved to open the front door before going back out to the balcony, resuming your coffee and smoke.
When they finished bringing all Bucky's stuff in, it was already midday, so you decided you'd order pizza for all of you, as in like a welcome present.
-Hey guys, i'm thinking of ordering pizza, what kind would you like?
-Oh (y/n) you don't have to. - said Bucky, earning a smirk from Steve as he looked back and forth between you two.
- Noo i insist, today won't be the day i'll start to slowly kill you with my cooking. - you said giggling a bit.
- Whatever's fine peach. - said Steve with a wink, that you decided was just out of friendlyness. You didn't veen knew his name, and he seemed like a lady's man anyways. Not really your type no matter how handsome and muscular he is.
- Steve, by the way, nice to meet you.
-(Y/n), likewise. - you shook his hand.
When the pizzas arrived you called them to the kitchen, listening to all their shared stories from their early years. They seemed like really close friends, and genuinely good people. You had a really great time. It was nearly 9 pm when Steve left, for saving a dame from dying cause of boredom he said. You and Bucky chuckled, then he let him out, closing the door, locking it for the night.
-I guess i have some packing to do, so.. good night (y/n).
-Good night Bucky, if you need anything just knock. - you said with a smile, and he couldn't help but smile back. He felt at peace. He had Steve, now he had a job, and a room to make a home of, and you as a new addition. You were so kind, so eager to help if he needed anything, he loved how the scent of raspberries and flowers lingered in the apartment mixed with coffee and cigarette smoke. It seemed to have a calming effect on him.
You heard a soft knock half an hour later. WHen you opened the door you saw a smiling Bucky, awkwardly scratching the back of his head.
- Hey, um.. sorry. I forgot i didn't bring a blanket, could i borrow one until i get my own?
-Yea sure, i'll get one in a min. - You said, leaving the door open, letting him see a bit of "you" while you were searching for your spare blanket in your wardrobe. The room really was you. White, with mustardy curtains on the window, plants everywhere, books piled up here and there, a really comfy looking bed, pictures of you and your friends on the walls. And damn, your room smelled even more like you. If he wouldn't pay attention your scent would lure him into your room and never let him leave he thought.
-There you go. - you handed him the blanket smiling.
-Thank you very much.
Then he stood there for a moment drinking in the sight of you in front of him. You were wearing an oversized tshirt, that ended just around the middle of your thighs, hair in a messy bun, no makeup. He could swear he thought you were pretty before, but seeing you as you were made him fancy you even more.
With a small smile you told him goodnight again, then closed the door in his face.
You could hear his little laugh on the other side of the door, then his door closing. For the first time in months he didn't wake up in the middle of the night, and he didn't had a nightmare either. He was afraid he would, and then he would wake you up with his screaming, but looks like the blanket which smelled just like you calmed him enough.
After waking up because the rays of sunshine on his face, he smiled to himself guess i'll wait with getting my own blanket then...
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yesimwriting · 3 years ago
Text
Crossing lines
General Kirigan/the darkling x reader
Summary: This was requested by my friend @vvsdiamond28 who also writes and has a really good kirigan x reader story up right now! The request was basically for a fic in which the reader is out wandering at night and runs into kirigan while he’s in the banya and then they get to talking and some other stuff before he admits to only trusting the reader and giving her his real name. This gets kinda steamy bc of the request and bc the story called for it lol but it’s not full smut bc i decided that it would be better to do that as a part 2 so that i could add some jealousy tension haha
a/n i think im back?? Ive been working on requests a lot and ive really enjoyed writing regularly again. A small side note, after rewatching revenge of the sith im kinda in the mood to try writing an anakin fic 😭 pls he was my OG fictional crush,, so either send help or a request for him or something, Anyways,, back to this fic--ahh i had fun writing it but i still feel awkward writing steamier stuff so be nice!! 
-- 
Those that wander in the night, lost in uneasy thought--there’s probably a lot that can be said about them. But I can’t think of anything to be said about me. Nothing good comes from walking around a place full of powerful and tense people in the middle of the night. It wouldn’t take much effort to interpret my actions as suspicious, and yet I continue forward. I’m an idiot--just because I can’t sleep doesn’t mean I have to wander around campgrounds. My presence is barely tolerated here, I shouldn’t try backstroking in waters I can barely tread. 
But still, I walk, eyes more fixated on the open night sky than anything else. The moon is as full as an overflowing glass, the stars twinkling as if desperate to compete with a light it will never be able to duplicate. I sigh, pressing my lips together. Maybe the stars and I have more in common than I thought. Normally, that would be a good thing. 
Letting out a weary breath, I continue forward, away from the relative safety of the main tents. I’m still on the grounds, I’m approaching the border where the tents of higher ranking officials are. That should make me more nervous, but if anything it almost eases me slightly. 
General Kirigan is not the type to be friendly, and yet our interactions have always been laced with a touch of intimacy I can’t quite explain. We’ve been alone together more and more frequently, and I think that’s how I like him best. It’s strange, but when we’re alone some of his sharpness dulls, leaving space for something I might consider humor or actual personality on anyone else. He probably speaks to many girls like that when they’re alone together--a fact I have to fight to remind myself of--but it’s the closest thing to friendship I have here. Maybe it’s foolish to hold onto that, but I can’t bring myself to release my grip on those sentiments. At least not yet, when the kind moments are still rare and fleeting and no line has been crossed. 
The danger, however, comes from the prospect of not recognizing lines before they’re crossed. Even now, as I walk aimlessly in the night, pacing in hopes of exhausting my thoughts, I’m crossing lines in a much more literal way and even these are ill defined. I must be in new territory now, and even that I can only vaguely recognize because of the strangely humid scent that surrounds this area of the grounds. 
I’m near the banya. I didn’t intend to wander here, but the thought of splashing water on my face is too tempting to pass up on. I move closer, finding a sense of peace in having some direction, even in a small way. 
When the promise of water is only steps away, I begin to regret everything. There’s a figure in the bath. I freeze, ready to attempt to shrink away in hopes of disappearing before I’m caught. This could easily turn extremely awkward even though I technically haven’t done anything. Most people don’t bathe at this hour. Who bathes this late at night? 
I keep my eyes on the individual, trying to make out who they are and how aware they are of their surroundings in the dim light. Pale skin, dark hair--unbelievably attractive torso. My eyes linger there longer than they should. I force my gaze upwards, towards their face as if that can erase my ogling. Embarrassment leaves my face burning--I’m not the ‘ogling’ type, and this person doesn’t even know I’m here. I keep my eyes on them as I step back, taking in unaware features as best I can in the dark. 
I know them--I--Saints, it’s Kirigan. 
Fantastic. Of course he has to be even more impossibly attractive while shirtless and wet. I turn my head upwards sharply, more desperate to not be caught than ever. I would never, ever recover from being caught. Whether he’d tease me or be angry with me, I don’t know. I also don’t know which option I’d prefer. 
I step back again, my gait wider due to my urgency. Snap. The sound of both a twig and my chance of a stealthy escape being shattered. I cringe, craning my neck to the left in a desperate attempt to make it clear that I wasn’t watching him. I take another desperate step, ready to duck behind a nearby tree. Maybe he hasn’t seen me--maybe he’s distracted and assumed that some kind of rabbit or something passed by. He may not actively dislike me, but I’m not sure any semblance of favor he may have for me extends to this situation.
“Y/n.” His tone reveals nothing but his level of certainty. Ignoring him will only make me seem guilty. 
I pause, keeping my gaze off of him. “Yes.” It wasn’t really a question, and yet I still answer it like one. “I was--I couldn’t sleep so I thought I’d get some air, and I was walking kind of aimlessly and I ended up here and I didn’t think anyone would be here.” Why do I feel like I’m making this situation worse? “I’m sorry--I’m gonna--I’m going to go now.” This is the kind of embarrassing moment that will come back to me when I’m trying to fall asleep at night. I know it.
“You know the polite thing to do after intruding is to make eye contact.” 
I don’t think my face has ever felt this warm before. At least he doesn’t sound angry, but his voice doesn’t reveal that much. I raise my gaze carefully, turning my head slowly. “I didn’t mean,” I exhale slowly, “It wasn’t my intention to intrude.” 
He straightens slightly at my words, exposing more of his chest. I stay still, eyes trained on his to avoid an accidental lapse. “You could make it up to me by offering conversation.” Kirigan’s tone is deliberate, his words measured and calm. I don’t speak, feeling like I’m being presented a test I don’t understand, but most of our conversations leave me feeling like that. “Only if you’re comfortable.” 
And just like that, I’m backed into a corner. A challenge. To deny him now would be to expose the effect he has on me. My chin raises a fraction of an inch as I take in that assured half-smirk. “Why wouldn’t I be comfortable?” 
Kirigan arches a dark brow, assessing my response. “Then sit,” his voice has not changed, “You want air and I want company.” 
I don’t think anyone that looks as good as he does shirtless has ever had trouble finding company, especially with the smooth way he speaks. Despite this, I step forward to accept his challenge without calling him out on his coyness. Each step is the crossing of another invisible line until I’m near the water’s edge. I make sure to keep my nightgown at a respectable length as I sit down. 
I make a point of extending my legs towards the water while leaning back so that I can’t be easily accused of being a coward. “I feel the need to warn you that I might not make particularly interesting company.”
He angles his head to the side slightly, drawing attention to his jawline and neck. I force my stare to focus on the water. “I’ve never found you uninteresting.” 
There’s something resigned in the way he says this. On instinct, I look up, taking in the slight softening of his features. The release of his usual sternness only adds to his beauty, a fact that I’m already resenting. 
“You may be the only one.” It’s not meant to be a deprecating comment, but I’m not sure my partial laugh softens my bitterness. I hope it does--I’d rather his interest than the interest of my entire unit. 
Kirigan shifts forward, the water moving with him. “Do you think that any coldness you’re experiencing has to do with you?” 
The question has me drawing my eyebrows together. What else could it be? I shrug, “I’ve considered it.” 
He nods once, eyes hardening slightly. “Do you always have trouble sleeping?” 
The personalness of the question shouldn’t surprise me as much as it does. Kirigan seems to only understand boundaries when he’s the one setting them. “Not really.” A partial lie--this time I’m glad I can’t quite bring myself to look at him. “It’s not uncommon for me, but it’s not something I deal with every night.” 
I risk shifting my eyeline when I hear the sound of water moving. Kirigan’s now resting an arm on the rim of the pool, wet skin dangerously close to my ankle and lower calf. “It’s not always easy,” his voice is low now, “Being alone with your thoughts.” 
That’s not the kind of reply I’d expect from him. I blink twice before turning to study his expression. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him seem so tired--so weary and human and in need of something. The line between his eyebrows and the far off quality of his eyes leave me with the strong desire to give whatever it is he needs to him. The urge to reach out, to touch him in hopes of breaking him free from his odd trance leaves my stomach knotted. That line is too clear to cross so recklessly.
I need to chase away the serious atmosphere he’s created. “Is that why you bathe so late at night?” I let myself smile, “To avoid thoughts?” 
“I like the peace of it.” Something akin to amusement touches his words. “And for the record, little dove,” the nickname is pointed and earns him an eyeroll, “The warm water doesn’t exactly chase away thoughts so much as encourages others.” He pauses. “You understand, considering you can barely look at me.”
This is the most embarrassing thing to have ever happened. The suggestive jilt to his words has to be intentional. Damn him. I turn my head, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “I can look at you just fine.” 
“And if I were a Heartrender and could hear your heartbeat your pulse would be normal?” The question is teasing, a small smile pulling at his lips. 
The warmth in my face increases, spreading down my neck. Kirigan’s expression remains smug. “You’re not as funny as you think you are.” 
“No?” He leans forward, angling his head so close to me I can faintly feel the warmth of his breath on my lower calf. “I find myself amusing.” 
At least being around him like this is getting easier. I open my mouth, ready to provide some sarcastic comment I haven’t thought out yet. My mouth clamps shut on instinct when I feel his touch on my ankle. The faint contact quickly grows, his fingers brushing up my ankle and calf, leaving drops of cool water across my skin.
“What are you doing?” That’s a--a fair question, right? I’m not sure, rational thought slipping from me more and more with each passing second. 
“Nothing, really,” his reply is quick. “Nervous?” 
There is no way he doesn’t know what he’s doing. I roll my eyes, fighting against my instinctual fluster. “No,” a full lie, “You’re just getting me wet.” 
“Barely.” When he’s not busy being brooding he’s not much better than an irritating child. He retracts his hand slowly, fingers grazing my skin slowly as he submerges his hand beneath the water. The loss of contact should feel like a victory. It doesn’t. “Y/n,” he shifts closer, back straightening.
There’s an odd seriousness to his demeanor that almost leaves me reeling. “Yes?” 
He beckons me forward. I hesitate, but comply, letting myself shift closer to the water’s edge. Kirgan’s lips part, but no words leave him before he moves his arm, purposefully splashing water over my thighs and bottom of my nightgown. I let out an instinctively annoyed sound. “That is getting you wet.” 
“Kirigan!” My tone is as menacing as I can make it, but he continues to grin. There’s such a lightness to the look I almost forget to be annoyed. Almost. “I should tell the entire Second Army how much of a child you are.” 
My threat does nothing, his smile softening without fading. “They fear me too much for your stories to make a difference.” He says this flatly. “All of them except you.” 
I don’t know if I’m supposed to make something of that comment. A brief moment passes in which I think his eyes come close to softening. Maybe that’s a side effect of seeing the world as you want. Wait...what do I want? Him? No, no, I can’t. 
Okay, he’s objectively attractive and sometimes I think I may see more depth in him than he wants to be capable of. But that doesn’t mean I’m allowed to want anything with him. Even if he was trustworthy enough for me to be with him in any capacity...even casually, it could never happen. Nothing good could come from having relations with the highest ranked general and I doubt he’d ever want me like that. He likes to fluster people and I’m an easy target. I just accept it because being some level of entertainment to him is better than being nothing to everyone. 
“I don’t think there’s much point in fear.” It feels like a fair answer. The fairest answer I can manage, anyways. 
He sighs, the sound heavy. His hand stretches forward cautiously. I watch him and make no attempt to stop him from touching my lower calf. His fingers trace absentmindedly across the skin. “Of course you’d think that.” 
Again, I don’t know what to make of his words. Or his actions. He couldn’t find anything wrong with me just slightly adjusting my position. It’d be a polite way to remind us both of the natural order of things. But then again, someone like him is allowed to be mad about anything. And I’m not sure I want to remind us of our place. 
Actually, I’m completely sure that I want the opposite of that. But admitting that to myself is enough of a risk. I’ve already crossed thousands of tiny lines and what I want will require us to cross a thousand more. 
“I’m a little surprised you’re not reminding me how foolish a notion like that can be.” 
He lets out a tiny breath as he shifts even closer to me. “Maybe I’m enjoying your foolishness.” 
“I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment or the opposite.” 
The slightest hint of a smile is visible to me beneath the moon’s glow. There’s something about darkness that adds beauty to things. I wait for him to reply, but instead of speaking his  hand moves further up my leg. I struggle to hide my reaction to his long fingers trailing up my skin.
He’s touched me before, sure. Tiny moments in which he’d push a strand of hair out of my face or wipe at a bit of dirt on my cheekbone. More recently, he had gripped my hip firmly to guide me through a crowd of soldiers. He had been in a hurry, stealing me from a conversation with the only member of my unit that’s been somewhat friendly to me. It wasn’t serious--he had just been rushing me because he only had a minute between meetings and apparently he had too long of a day to not take a moment to speak with me. 
“Are you alright, Dovey?” Normally, the nickname and all of its variations earns him an eyeroll. But everything is a lot less humorous with his hand half up my lower leg, leaving a trail of cool water wherever he touches. 
His fingers press more firmly into my skin. “Yes, I’m fine--it’s just late.” 
“Hm…” Kirigan breathes before tilting his head slightly. “You’re warm.” I stay silent as his hand shifts slightly. “Perhaps too warm.” 
If I’m hot that has absolutely nothing to do with fever. “I’m fine, General, I promise.” 
“Come closer,” he says, “It’ll take me no time to check.” 
...A little too convenient. My nightgown is still embarrassingly damp from the last time I eased tonight. “Please tell me you don’t find me that naive.” 
“Naive? No.” He lifts his hand slightly. “Warm? Yes.” I still don’t trust him. “I’m not going to do anything. I promise.” 
His eyes are dark and the limited lighting of the moon doesn’t offer me much in my analysis, but what I can see makes him seem genuine. “Why do I feel like that’s not the first time you’ve had to say that?” Despite my comment, I move towards him. 
The back of Kirigan’s palm is pressed to my forehead for less than a second. He brushes his hand down the side of my temple, rotating his wrist so that his fingertips can touch my cheek. His hand then continues to move down my jawline and then my neck...and then finally trails down my collarbone. I bite my tongue to avoid exhaling audibly at the contact. 
“Warm,” he concludes with a tsk, and yet he doesn’t withdraw his hand. “Though that could just have to do with the climate.” His thumb slips beneath the sleeve of my nightgown. “Perhaps you could benefit from joining me.” 
I bite my tongue to avoid letting out a surprised, embarrassingly enthusiastic squeak. I don’t know what’s gotten into him...maybe it’s the night air and the prospect of being fully alone. I should be strong enough to break whatever spell he’s starting to place on me. But I’m not. I’m really, really not. 
He pulls on the sleeve of my nightgown slightly. “I’m…” 
“Unless you’re nervous?” Another damn challenge. To shy away from this would be to expose myself. He tugs on the sleeve a little more assuredly, exposing my shoulder to the humid night. “Do I make you nervous?” 
His voice comes out a shallow rasp. I feel it straight in my core. “...Not more than you should.” 
“More than I should?” 
Ugh--too honest. I let myself get distracted. It shouldn’t be too difficult to explain what I meant. He knows he’s feared. He wants to be feared. “I’m sure we’re both aware that there are a fair amount of cautionary tales revolving around you.” 
His hand falls next to my lap. Oh? I didn’t expect to miss the contact between us so much. His expression seems to have fallen slightly as well. Was it my response to his question? It felt fair and straightforward without being too blunt. “And you believe every cautionary tale you hear?” 
There’s something stiff about the way he asks the question. His moodiness is making me miss his touchiness even more. At least then I didn’t have to feel like I made a mistake. Did I say something wrong? “Should I?”
“It depends on whether or not you plan on being brave.” 
“I told you...I don’t see much point in fear.” 
“And yet you’re still there.” A bit of humor returns to his voice. “Why is that?” 
Rolling my eyes, I shift forward, letting my legs dip into the water. This is as far as I should let this go. I’ve already lost too much more control. “Better?” He’s strangely tense again, a hint of something bitter playing at the smug look he tries for. “You alright?”
“Of course you’d ask me that.” He says this with a tired sigh. “You can never make things easy.” 
“I don’t understand.” 
He shifts backwards slightly. I can feel the distance between us like I’d feel a pebble in my shoe. “Do you believe all the stories about me?” 
Is he still bothered by that? “I didn’t mean it as literally as you’re taking it. All I meant is that people are intimidated by you, but that’s not a bad thing. It’s the way things have to be, you’re the only Shadow Summoner in existence and the army needs you to be intimidating so that they can act on your guidance.”
“The way things have to be,” he echoes, his voice strangely weighted. “There’s a specific kind of loneliness that comes with being feared by everyone.” 
Oh--I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t that. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him feel defeated like that. I reach for his hand without thinking, pulling his fingers towards my lap. “I don’t--I’m not scared of you.” It’s a weak attempt to comfort him, but it’s the only one I can think of. “That probably doesn’t mean anything, but I--” 
His hand turns in my lap, squeezing the exposed part of my thigh. “It means something.” Kirigan’s voice has hardened in a different way. “You’re the only person I’m certain of.” 
Everything in me seems to tighten at that. At the implication of something so personal from someone so closed off. “Kirigan, you don’t have to be as alone as you feel. You talk to me all the time and you do so in a way that makes it easy to forget the cautionary tales.” His hand moves further up my thigh. I fight as I try to remember our usual dynamic. “You’re the only one that talks to me like that.” 
“Have you ever considered that maybe the others refuse to take to you because of the favor I’ve shown you? The instinct to stay away from me is strong enough to extend to those around me.” Kirigan’s hand moves higher up my thigh. “To be near me is to involve solitude.” 
“I don’t care.” The answer leaves me too quickly. “Being near you is worth it.” 
He leans closer before resting his chin on my knee with no hesitation. “Careful, you don’t understand the line you tread.” Kirigan places his hand more firmly between my thighs. “Or perhaps you do...perhaps you know what you want to cross.” 
This time I can’t help the airy sigh that leaves me. Kirigan pushes against my thigh slightly, separating my legs. I feel his breath on my inner thigh before I know what’s going on. I can’t move, I can’t think, I can’t even breathe. That inability to do anything but feel my heart pound against my chest only worsens as I feel his lips press into the inside of my thigh. His lips trail up my skin before his teeth gently sink into the top of my thigh. 
“Is the line you want to cross?” He breathes the question so softly I feel like I’m being coddled. Everything in me feels too hot to think of any kind of coherent response. Kirigan uses his free hand to pull the fabric of my nightgown as high up my thighs as he can from his position below me. “Or maybe this is the line you want to cross?” Kirigan pulls me forward so suddenly I let out a tiny gasp. I’m not fully on the edge of the banya. “Or perhaps this one?” He kisses the skin of my inner thigh gently. Each time I exhale too loudly, his teeth graze my skin. He gets harsher with each passing second. “Lay down.” 
My body listens to him on instinct. How is this happening? How am I this powerless to fight against something that’s so clearly wrong? The sound of water shifting causes my entire body to tense. He’s pulled himself out of the water. Kirigan moves above me instantly, water dripping from his toned chest and dark hair and onto my still damp nightgown. 
Before I can speak, he’s on me completely, his lips pressing against my jaw. He kisses down my neck, his teeth grazing against my skin sporadically. He pulls away from me by tracing his tongue across my collar bone. I let out something dangerously close to a moan. “Such pretty, little sounds.” 
“Kirigan--” 
“The only name I want you to hear from your lips is the only name that I’ve not given myself. The only name that holds meaning to me.” 
His lips graze where my skin meets the hem of my now soaked through nightgown. I’m not sure the poor lighting is offering me enough coverage now. There’s no way the thin fabric leaves much to the imagination while being this wet. He kisses up my chest and neck until his lips reach the shell of my ear. 
“Aleksander.” The name is grace in the form of a breath so soft it’s more like I’m feeling the name than actually hearing it. 
He presses his lips against the spot on my neck directly beneath my ear. I exhale into the contact. “Aleksander.” As I test his true name on my tongue, his teeth dig into my skin much more harshly than before. 
I let out a partial squeak at the sudden shift in pace as his hands grip my waist. “Say it again. Say my name again.”
He traces his tongue gingerly over the skin he just aggravated with his teeth before I can speak. The soothing sensation is so much I can barely find my voice. “Aleksander.” 
His hand bunches the bottom of my nightgown, raising the fabric to my hips. “...Say it just like that.” Kirgan’s rough hand slips between the bone of my hip and the fabric of my hip. “Like I’m the only one that knows you like this.”
“Aleksander.” I breathe as he traces invisible patterns into my skin with his lips. “Aleksander.” Each use of his name earns me extra attention--a stronger hold on my hip, a more adamant nip at the base of my neck. I feel my need for him so heavily I swear it’s leaked into my bones. “Aleksander.”
When he pulls away, I fight the urge to whine. The night is still humid, but with the absence of his touch I feel like I’m shivering. He regards me silently for a long moment before shifting his weight again. I feel my heart stall in my chest as his hand softly brushes a strand of hair out of my face. He lets his hand linger there, at the apple of my cheek. The entire world seems to stall as he leans down, his hand cupping the side of my face as his mouth inches closer to mine. 
“I can feel the fluttering of your heart.” 
Any poor defense dies in my throat as his lips meet mine. He gives me no time to think about what’s happening as he presses into me even harder. Kirigan holds my face as his teeth graze against my bottom lip. My mouth opens slightly in surprise, giving him the opportunity he needs to slip his tongue into my mouth. His tongue slowly brushes against mine, coaxing me into total, delirious, compliance. When he starts to pull away, I react, my hands flying forward to grab his hair. He lets me get away with tugging him towards me, prolonging the kiss as he bites my bottom lip. 
One of his hands leaves my face and travels up the hands holding onto his hair. He pulls me off of him easily, pinning both of my wrists above my head with one hand. “Easy,” Kirigan warns, “You’ve been such a good girl, let’s not ruin it before we’ve started.” 
A tiny sigh leaves me. I can feel the pride he takes in that as his hand trails further down my body. His fingers ghost along the hem of my underwear teasingly. 
“Is someone there?” I’ve never damned the voice of a stranger more. 
Panic and dread roll in my stomach. I’m going to get caught like this, with my nightgown bunched at my hips beneath the General Kirigan. An unclothed, wet, General Kirigan. “I’m bathing.” 
Okay...good...Aleksander spoke. Anyone with common sense would run at the thought of invading on Kirgan’s privacy. It’s a good thing that the soldier had the sense to linger behind a thicket of bushes. “Pardon General, but there’s been a crucial development. A new strategy should be thought of as soon as possible.” 
No. No. The thought of losing contact so entirely, of having a moment that should have never happened be ripped from me before it’s even really happened is overwhelming. I feel my lips pull into a pout. Kirigan’s hand adjusts on me, his thumb pressing teasingly over where I’m neediest. I bite my tongue to avoid making an inappropriate noise. 
“Five minutes--I’ll be in the strategy tent in five minutes.” 
“I’ll tell the others, General.”
Great. I hear the stranger disappear, his feet crushing twigs and grass as he leaves us. Aleksander’s attention returns to me quickly. Disappointment swells in my chest as I take in the solemn look that crosses his features. His hand moves to my chin quickly before pulling me into another deep kiss. It’s too short lived. 
“I have to go.” 
Frowning, I lift my hand to trace my fingers up his arm. It’s softer than I should allow myself to be, but it doesn’t really matter anymore. Not when this is probably never going to happen again. “Do you?” I mumble to myself, half joking.
He sighs once, his thumb brushing against my cheek. “No pouting.” 
Now that whatever little bubble we were in has popped, I’m capable of normal feelings. Including shame. “I am n--” 
“Easy, little dove, I’ll remember all of this when I find you again.” 
This...this is going to happen again? “You’re going to find me?” 
“I haven’t yet heard your voice crack on my name as I undo you.” He punctuates the promise with a kiss to my jaw. “Again.” Another kiss. “And again.” Another brush of his lips as he finally pulls away. “And again.” 
My breath catches itself in my throat as he moves off of me entirely. Damn whatever change in the war that’s pulled him away from me so suddenly. I sit up as he stands. I’m not sure where to look now that he’s not in close enough proximity to cloud my thoughts. I should leave as he dresses, but I can’t quite bring myself to. It doesn’t feel safe, not when the man that interrupted us could reappear at any moment. Not when I want to hold onto his presence like this as long as possible. 
 He squeezes my shoulder warmly as he passes before bending down to press one more kiss next to where his hand is. 
“Soon,” he promises again. 
--
General taglist: @theincredibledeadlyviper, @grishaverse7 @benbarnes-supremacy  @tranquilitymoon @kaitlyn2907 @lunamyangel @christinawxxx @deceivedeer @real-mbappe @tonks33
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agent-cupcake · 3 years ago
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As a resident Claudefucker, I know am curious to know what our fave charming schemer is doing during this Mafia!AU. He'd look lovely in a suit.
~It was quite the headline when Godfrey Riegan died. The details are a little hazy, a little convenient, but people don't talk about that sort of thing. Car accidents are common. Tragic, but not unreasonable. There’s no reason to smear a man’s perfectly respectable political career for the sake of some sensational gossip.
~In the right circles, however, there was a huge uproar, questions about who was going to take over the Riegan family when the elderly boss Oswald died. The Riegan’s had been dominating Leicester for quite some time, but a lot of people began to predict that the Gloucester family was going to move in. They had powerful friends, it seemed. Friends with money, no less.
~Claude Riegan, grandson of Oswald, appeared out of nowhere just when he was needed. Stories of the lost daughter Tiana still circulated, sure, but there were still a lot of questions about Claude’s origins when nobody except Oswald were able to vouch for him. He obviously had military leadership experience—his skill with guns and ability to lead was just too excellent for any other explanation—but he dismissed the question out of hand. There’s no documentation of him, either, leading some to wonder if even his name was false. But Oswald said he was family, and that was that.
~Claude was quick to establish himself, in any case. Despite his cavalier attitude, his efficacy in overhauling the power dynamics of Leicester were profound.  
~He decided, first and foremost, that the way to win the people over was to invigorate the local culture, which had seen a sharp decline as a result of new laws that were unfavorable to business, Adrestia’s growing market monopolies, and the bad reputation of the red light district Ailell. This included some perfectly legitimate campaigning and some under the table type schemes. 
~The result was a flourishing Derdriu Street. While it lacks the prestige of Enbarr Square in Adrestia, it welcomes entertainment that would be considered too “low brow” like comedy, trendy new restaurants, and music venues. Even better, all of it is built on the recently cleaned up river. The Riegan family is involved in all of  it, of course. 
~Casino owner Claude. This exists solely to thirst but maybe it was preexisting and he took it over due to its poor management? If there’s going to be gambling anyway, it should be done right. The extra money’s not so bad, either. But, Claude lounging in a big leather chair in a dark blue blazer with gold brocade, his white shirt unbuttoned low enough to see enough his chest. Enough to make you drool. Enough that you’d definitely get caught staring and probably called out for it because he can’t help himself. Claude with his elbows on the arm rests and fingers folded in front of him as he considers you, gold rings winking because he’s just that ostentatious and appearances are important. Claude asking you how you feel about taking risks in a way that really feels like it has nothing to do with cards, staring at you with a friendly smile that doesn’t meet those calculating eyes—eyes that you know will pick up on every tell. 
~Claude also struck a deal with the Kupala Distillery. They’d been fighting to keep hold of their historic business for years, and Claude offered to help them with that. You know, not for free, but he’s good at making deals that leave everybody happy. 
~The second biggest thing he tackled was the drug trade. For the most part, no one family had ever had a complete handle on that market. The Goneril’s had a hold over the docks for years, but the Edmunds had been moving in and working with the Gloucester family to bolster their power. Distribution was scattered and hard to keep track of as it ultimately circulated wherever there was a profit to be made. Looking at it like this, Claude decided that the only way to fix things was to take control over all of it. In his line of work, shady things like the drug trade are impossible to avoid. At the very least, if he has control over it, he can ensure the product is clean and expel far more unsavory ventures.
~Through these escapades, Claude was able to make alliances with all of the major families. A lot of them had only remained loyal to the Gloucester family out of fear so as soon as they had an alternative, they bolted. This has an unfortunate side effect of revealing how his power is perceived. Every day is a balancing act for Claude. He allows each family to function as they please as long as they’re aware they do so at his mercy. It’s better to keep friends than to control enemies, but even that requires a delicate maneuvering of power.
~However, Claude likes the conflict. He enjoys the game and he especially enjoys winning the game. There’s a certain level of his excusing amorality for the sake of his family and Leicester, but there’s an equal part of him that understands his wrongdoings and deals with it separately. He wouldn’t hold to the naïve “ends justify the means” idea to excuse himself, but he would still argue that his actions have value and are even necessary. If it weren’t him, it would be somebody a lot worse than him. That’s probably something that would linger in the back of everybody’s minds whenever they shook his hand or paid their respects, whenever they began to think of how easy it would be to take him out. Fear, too. So far, Claude’s never done anything shockingly bad, only what was necessary. But with his power and intellect, it’s always a question of what he could do.
~If someone asked him that, Claude would smile that friendly smile and tell them that he would do anything to see his vision made real. Whether or not that’s true remains to be seen. 
~Luckily, Claude’s not alone! Hilda is the stereotypical crime family princess. She joined Claude because he offered her freedom from the overbearing control of her father and brother. Her skill in manipulating everybody around her combined with her reputation as a ditzy rich girl makes her fantastic at gathering information, assuming Claude can get her to do so. But, as long as he’s not being too forceful, she’s surprisingly motivated to weave her way through social circles and charm everyone. Although she would never say it, the order he brought to Leicester, not to mention the entertainment, made everything a lot better for her and her family. Plus, she likes being useful after spending her entire life watching Holst give his heart and soul to family while she did nothing. Ultimately, the information she provides is essential and her relationship with Claude is one of the few either have that’s built on trust, respect, and loyalty. That said, sometimes even Claude gets a little shiver as he watches how easily Hilda can manipulate people.  
~Lorenz was one of Claude’s most disdainful detractors, although a part of that was jealousy. Claude just swept in and did things that Lorenz had been waiting and planning to do once he became the head of the Gloucester family. Even after being on the receiving ends of such vicious attacks, once Claude undeniably had the upper hand in Leicester, he went behind the Gloucester boss’s back to Lorenz and told him that they were going to be friends or enemies, it was Lorenz’s choice. Not threatening him, just pointing out that the fall of the Gloucester family was inevitable under his father’s leadership and that Lorenz didn’t have to suffer for his father’s sins. Probably over mimosas and brunch. Lorenz is proud and has no appreciation for Claude, but he’s not stupid. After they worked out their disagreements and more or less accepted each other, Lorenz and Claude became pretty close. Claude knows that having someone to openly and aggressively disagree with him isn’t a bad thing. Not only that, but Lorenz’s a solid ally with a better grasp on some of the things Claude has difficulty with due to not being a native. Lorenz is willing to admit that Claude is a good leader.
~Marianne is well educated in the realm of the law and political action. The reason the Edmund family saw such success despite their lesser status was because of her adopted father’s genius. which he made sure to share with Marianne. She is invaluable in aiding Claude on the perfectly legitimate side of his business, and helping him hide his tracks for the shady stuff. Raphael is the muscle. Lysithea is a computer genius. Being a sickly shut in with issues that only recently saw treatment, she’s on the Mr. Robot level of hacker mode activated. Ignatz is an architect which is useful since so much of Claude’s power is in the property and infrastructure. He also designed a lot of places to have some neat-o hidey holes. Claude loves buildings that have secrets. Leonie is manages a lot of the physical and pettier side of the work. If someone’s stirring up trouble, she’s likely to pay them a visit as a warning before Claude has to get involved. She used to be a mercenary but being on Claude’s payroll is a lot better of a gig.    
~As for the suits, one thing is very important. Claude would not, under any circumstances, wear something tight on his thighs. I actually kind of like the idea of him going for a 1980′s style modernized. In his post timeskip outfit, he’s already got a hint of that going on with how oversized his outfit looks. The 80′s (rightfully) gets a bad rep for fashion, but it’s also very iconic with those wide-collared suit jackets, matchy-matchy three piece suits, sportscoats with a fun patterned shirt underneath, open blazers, pleated pants with an oversized jacket, and—in particular—the trend of summer suits in shades of tan and cream with colored shirts underneath. Then, combine that with a pair of Ray-Ban Aviators and a topless convertible and you’ve got a distinctly recognizable mob boss who doubles as a devastating heartthrob. I’m not saying he’d do a 1:1 recreation, but you’d definitely see references to the fashion of the era in his outfits. He would wear oxfords or ankle boots. Whatever it was, they’d have to be comfortable. He also doesn’t shy away from jewelry. The earring, of course, and rings when he's feeling particularly decadent. When he’s wearing his shirts unbuttoned Claude could possibly wear a gold chain. I mean, what are you gonna say, no? That gold doesn’t look gorgeous against his skin? That it’s tacky? You’re talking to the man who wore quilted pants. Claude’s not afraid to stand out because he knows he will anyway, nor is he afraid to be seen as unfashionable because he doesn’t particularly care about trends. I also enjoy the idea of him emulating the 80′s as someone who didn’t grow up in a western culture and thus mainly saw things through the lens of movies. Whatever he wears, however, he would look very handsome.
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im-only-joking · 3 years ago
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Do Not Disturb on the Hotel Door Part 1
This fic has been a LONNNNNGGG time coming, based off this edit that @bbbarzal made that I am in love with and have watched probably a thousand times at this point. I mean... can’t go wrong with 2 pretty best friends, right?
https://bbbarzal.tumblr.com/post/650623516756131841/introducing-two-pretty-bestfriends
Warnings: Threesome; mentions of sex in this chapter, but no actual full smut yet; not really infidelity, but like mentions of looking at someone who is not their partner; non-negotiated kinks. ummm think that’s it, but I tried to make it so that it was clear that everything was clear-headed and consensual!
Anthony Beauvillier x Mat Barzal x Reader
Mat’s birthday fell at the perfect time to also celebrate the series win against the Penguins, meaning an even larger affair, more drinks, buttons on carefully pressed shirts being undone to bare muscled chests and dresses’ hemlines were barely covering anything.
 And while your boyfriend was passed around-as the birthday boy was due to be- your eyes wandered a bit in search of conversation.
 Conversation fell into your lap happily, as a drunken Beau tipped onto the couch you were perched on.
 While you talked, you noticed your eyes lingering on his exposed chest, his soft linen green shirt bringing out the blue in his eyes, his biceps flexing the material of the rolled sleeves.
 Sydney Martin’s hand on your shoulder snapped you out of your daze and you gratefully accepted another drink from her, but nursed it slowly throughout the rest of the night. Clearly, it was just the alcohol in your veins making you think… things, about Beau. You weren’t a cheater, and you loved Mat more than anything. It was okay to look.
 He was your boyfriend’s best friend though. Looking, even innocently, at him was like high treason, right?
 You deliberated guiltily all evening over if you had been flirty in your conversation with Beau, whether you had been leading him on in any way. You reasoned that he had to know that you were tipsy and didn’t mean it because you were with Mat, but half your brain was telling you WHORE.
 “You’ve been really quiet tonight,” Mat observed, startling you out of another guilty thought-spiral.
 You teased, “I’ve just been trying to let you have your spotlight.”
 Mat chuckled, gathering you in his arms, half undressed. “Always willing to share as long as it’s with you.”
 “Cheesy,” you smiled, nose scrunching as you let him kiss your forehead.
 “Maybe.”
  As soon as you got in the door of your apartment Mat was on you, sucking marks on your neck, hands flying to grip your waist, pull you as close to him as possible.
 “You gonna be a good girl for me?” Mat rasped, playoff beard scratching against your collarbone as he bit down, eliciting a sharp gasp from you, your hands tugging his locks.
 “Daddy,” you whined, earning yourself Mat’s harsh grip on your chin.
 “Use your words, baby,” Mat ordered, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth and releasing it with a pop.
 “I’ll be a good girl for you Daddy,” you whimpered.
“Then you’ll need to wait, we have a guest coming.”
 Your brows gathered, confusion taking over your face, making Mat rumble out a laugh.
 “You really think I didn’t catch you looking at my best friend? If you’re so interested in him, why shouldn’t I let him have a little fun with you? Share how good my girl can be when she wants to,” Mat smirked, tucking a hair that had fallen in your face behind your ear. “You think you can be on your best behavior for him?”
 You shuddered with want, “Yes Daddy.”
 “Atta girl,” Mat murmured, his hand possessive on the back of your neck as a knock on the door startled you.
 “Why don’t you get naked and greet him,” Mat suggested, though his tone made it clear you weren’t to argue unless you were truly uncomfortable with it.
 You gulped, nodded, and stripped to your panties, which were black lace, specifically picked out by Mat for you to wear for his birthday. He nodded, ushering you towards the door as another knock on the door beckoned you towards it.
 You opened the door to see Beau as he had been dressed earlier, his blue eyes darkening as he took in your figure.
 “What a warm welcome, chérie,” Beau hummed, fingers dancing over the lace at your waistline.
 “Mat surprised me with this,” you mentioned, ducking your head a little. “I didn’t realize I’d been caught looking.”
 Beau laughed gently, rubbing circles on your hip with his thumb. “You don’t have to be shy about it. Clearly, it isn’t a big deal, and it looks like Mat isn’t going to mind if you did more than look.”
 You breathed out a giggle, hands finding Beau’s and you pulled him into the apartment to find that Mat wasn’t there.
 “He’s in the kitchen, I can hear him,” Beau nodded to the archway that led to your kitchen, where the light was, in fact, on.
 Beau sat on the couch, tugging you onto his lap with a squeal, your hands on his shoulders to stabilize you as you straddled his thighs. His hands explored your skin, running over your lace-covered breasts as you settled into his lap more, rolling your hips gently.
 “You’re a naughty little thing, aren’t you?” Beau sniggered, hands sliding to your ass to give it a squeeze, rocking his hips up to meet yours in a dirty swivel. When you didn’t answer, one hand came up to your face to smack your cheek gently. “Mat said you were gonna be good for me. I’d like to hear an answer, doll.”
 “Sorry, sir,” you gasped, rolling your hips down hard to hear Beau groan. “I like being naughty for Mat… and you. I’d like to blow you if you’d let me.”
 Mat emerged from the kitchen then, a couple of bottles of water in hand, which he set on the table next to the couch.
 “Thought I’d let you two get comfortable. I told Beau a bit about what you like to give him some ideas, but I know you’ll ask for what you want anyway,” Mat said, hand on your neck to tilt your face up to his for a kiss. You could feel Beau’s gaze on the both of you as you let Mat claim your mouth.
 “She asked to blow me,” Beau stated, leaning back to rest against the back of the couch. Mat settled beside him, smirking.
 “Well, give us a show then, darling,” he commanded, and you slipped off Beau’s lap to get on your knees in front of him, your mouth already salivating at the thought of having him in your mouth.
  You groaned as sunlight woke you, streaming into the room through the cracks in the blinds, and you tried to sort out what was reality. What you realized was your legs and Mat’s were interlocked, your panties and even your sleep shorts were soaked through from your dream, and your hips were still rocking gently against Mat’s thigh.
 “Well, good morning,” Mat grinned, clearly having woken up before you, and amused by the situation. “Sweet dreams, I guess?”
 “Jesus,” you groaned, your head thumping back onto the pillow as you detached yourself from Mat’s leg.
 “I wasn’t complaining, rather the opposite,” Mat laughed, ruffling your bedhead. “Just curious to know what got you so in the mood so I can recreate it.”
 You froze, guilty again, as you remembered everything about the dream. “Well… it was pretty much like any of the times we get really frisky, you know. Like, you got all… commanding and sexy and stuff.”
 Mat’s brow quirked, “That normally has a pretty good effect, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this worked up before… not from a dream, anyway.”
You bit your lip anxiously.
 Mat frowned. “Is there… a new thing you want to explore?”
 You took a breath, steadying yourself, and sat up.
 “No, not really.”
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astaroth1357 · 4 years ago
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A Lazy Day with MC and the Brothers
I was just chilling one day and thought about how a lazy day in with our boys might be like… I like hijinks, don’t get me wrong, but sometimes we ought to slow down too, you know?
Check my Masterlist for more!
Warning: Slight NSFW-ish? I dunno how to tag innuendo...
Lucifer
First off, hats off for managing to convince the guy to just do nothing for any length of time. That’s some seriously impressive persuasive powers, MC, you sure you don’t know how to charm?
Lazy Lucifer=Sleepy Lucifer. He spends so many nights up late getting work done then follows it up by getting up early in order to wrangling his brothers. It's honestly like it all catches up with him... He’s sleeping in and he’s sleeping in HARD.
Might text one of his brothers to bring them in a late breakfast at some point (never mind the fact it’s practically dinner). Beel would be the one most likely to agree to it, but he also may just eat whatever he picked up on the way there so hopefully someone else is feeling charitable… Try Asmo.
Honestly, his entire goal is to not leave the bedroom at all. If he leaves, then he runs the risk of people seeing him… wait for it... relaxing. Oh, just imagine the scandal!!
Some classical music, a bit of conversation, and maybe a good book in bed would all sound like heaven to him. They may have to get up to make some tea to go along with it, just remind him that drinking coffee on your recharge days can have the opposite effect. The taste of coffee could always just end up reminding him of work anyway…
The evening can go one of two ways. Calm and peaceful or "stress relieving." If they chose the stress relieving option, best be prepared because he'll have a whole night's worth of stress to let out and he's going to need some help… 😏
Mammon
He’s going to want to be close to the MC the whole time, they can hold onto him or him onto them, whatever works. It doesn’t matter as long as there’s still some kind of contact happening.
A whole day with just him and the MC? And they don’t even have to be doing anything? Where can he sign up??
Cue a lot of doing nothing in particular with Mammon tangled up on them in some way: hugging their waist while he checks his phone, resting their legs on his lap during a gaming session, wrapping himself around them while they just have casual conversation. That kind of thing.
When they eventually get hungry then he might pop down to the kitchen and make them some instant noodles (I wouldn’t trust much else he tries to make since… well we know he kind of just adds whatever’s around to his food).
He might start getting a little restless part of the way through the day though, so they’re going to have to do something to get that energy out… 🤔
Use your imagination, I know this fandom can.
Leviathan
The reigning Prince of Lazy Days. Everything about Levi screams “goof off/game night buddy” (at least if the MC is a fellow otaku anyway).
He probably didn’t sleep the night before because he was playing/watching something so the morning will go down one of two ways: 1) He just pulls an all-nighter and begins to progressively lose his mind as the day goes on, or 2) He’s dead to the world until 2pm. Only one of those options is entertaining so you know what I'm going with.
Things will go pretty smoothly through the morning. They don’t have to go anywhere because his room has plenty of snacks so they can just chill out and watch anime or play video games.
Buuut stuff will get more dicey as the afternoon rolls around and his sleep deprivation sets in. He’ll start losing a lot of his filter and may ramble for even longer than normal with even less coherency. He’ll also get more um… "bold" than usual.
Or he may just want to cuddle with them while he babbles on about how much he loves them and how warm they are and how much they remind him of Henry, which reminds him have they seen the latest season of “My Life with Seven Demon Brothers Who All Love Me!” yet because the main character there also reminds him of them and-
He’ll pass out eventually, probably latched onto them somehow with his tail around them tenderly. Don’t bring it up to him in the morning because he will unsuccessfully try to deny it ever happened.
Satan
Not opposed to the occasional lazy day. It actually does good for his nerves since holding in all that pent-up anger can feel like stuffing an elephant into a tea kettle sometimes...
They’re going to want to get him out of his bedroom or the library if they don’t want to fight for his attention against whatever new book he’s eating through today. When the man gets engrossed then it’s like nothing else matters, the House could split in two and he'll only notice if he suddenly can’t reach his drink anymore...
May actually be advantageous to go outside with him, take a nice stroll around the House while having some interesting conversation. They could poke his brain about anything that suits their fancy while they’re out amongst the trees and nature.
If they don’t want to go outside and rather take their chances with the book then okay but the engrossment problem still applies. He may even forget to eat...
Best way to combat his lack of attention is to be a little brat that’s juuust cute enough not to piss him off. It’s a delicate balance. That means getting real close to him, like sitting on his legs, and just occasionally reminding him of their presence with longing looks while tapping, flicking, or messing with the book from time to time (yes, kind of like an attention-seeking cat).
Play it just right and they’ll get attention on them alright, but he may also be looking to punish his “needy kitty." Hope that’s what they’re aiming for... 🤷‍♀️
Asmodeus
Really? They want to do nothing? Nothing at all? Are they sure they don’t want to do him instead...? 😏
A relaxing day with Asmo is more or less like a day spent wrapped up in mutual worship and adoration. The guy wants all of their attention and love but he’ll return it and then some. As long as they treat him like the love of their lives it will honestly be like having their own day spa day in Heaven.
If the MC wants to relax, then he’s just the sort to know how to provide for them both. The only question is how do they want it?
The man can give them a full treatment, I mean, just look at his bathroom alone! A good soak in a hot bath, facial masks, back massages, mani-pedis, just say the word MC and he’s more than willing to bestow whatever their little heart desires. That’s his job, isn’t it?
Asmo may be a party boy, but if it’s a little TLC you need, emphasis on the T, then look no farther MC. He’s the guru.
On the flipside if they’re looking for a little release well… who better to ask than Asmo right? He’ll make sure they’ll never want to leave that bed again. 🤭
Beelzebub
As long as snacks are still involved then he’s all in, babe. He’ll do nothing with them all day as long as they keep him fed.
Two words. Couples. Cooking. They can’t skip a meal with Beel so if they’re going to spend lazy time with the dude then they better be planning on being a tag along to the kitchen.
It doesn’t have to be a super strict though, it’s not like they’re not cooking with Barbatos or anything, so they can goof off and make a bit of a mess together. Chances are Beel will eat the ingredients to whatever they’re making anyway so... 😅
A lot of lingering touches and just being close to each other as they go. He might want to hold their waist while they stir or they end up feeding each other in cutesy ways... Really it’s a ridiculously wholesome time.
At one point a food fight may break out and they'll cover themselves in flour, tomato sauce, or some other kind of messy food substance...
Careful, MC. Whatever they get covered in will likely only make them look more delicious to him and he might want to "clean them off".... They'll need to take that out of the kitchen, though, like what if someone needs a snack??
Belphegor
The reigning King of Lazy Days. Take notes, MC, for you are watching the Master at work...
Sleeping in and cuddling is a must. He will not let them leave the bed all morning for anything less than a Category Four Emergency (i.e. “I’m going to starve to death” or “I really gotta go piss”). He will pin them under his sleeping body if he has to!
Once they’ve thoroughly missed breakfast and half past noon rolls around he might call in takeout from Hell’s Kitchen for them to eat in the attic room. Expect some cheeky conversation, probably jokes at the expense of his brothers. Cuddling is still absolutely happening, of course, they cannot shake him off.
May borrow an anime from Levi to watch while they snuggle on the couch. He has all the best blankets in the House so they will be neither cold nor uncomfortable throughout.
His hands get a little grabby during these kinds of cuddle sessions, especially during tense moments in the show because he likes to give them a little jolt to make them yelp, the jerk... 😖
If he manages to not drift off during the show (flip a coin on that chance) the night will end in the planetarium, backs on a pile of blankets while they draw pictures in the stars… All hail the King. 😏
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midnightsconspiracy · 4 years ago
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Stubborn
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Stubborn - @midnightsconspiracy
Summary: You and Hank as both so stubborn. So arguments can be tough, but eventually one of you always caves in
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1078
Requested: Yes!!
‘Where Hank and the reader have gotten into a huge argument and since both Hank and the Reader are both stubborn. Eventually, one of them cave in you can say the rest’
A/N: If you haven't listened to ‘wie wird man seinen Schatten los’ from Mozart! The musical, specifically the one by Oedo Kuipers, I highly recommend it. I'm currently obsessed with it, although it is in German and I don’t speak the language! :)
Masterlist
You and Hank were both extremely stubborn individuals. Everyone who had met you learned that within a couple of hours of knowing you, not wanting to cross you both from that point on. And although you and Hank's relationship was great in most aspects, that one certain trait seemed to be the only downfall you had. Neither of you were ever willing to admit to being in the wrong or compromise to change your opinions at all, which led to more arguments than necessary. Sometimes it was just petty things like accidentally leaving the milk out or forgetting to do the dishes, but others it was over bigger things, that although seemed stupid afterwards, seemed huge at the time. This would lead to a huge blowout of shouting, throwing things, slamming doors, all the works. After a couple of hours or in the worst-case scenario, days, you would get back to normal, both of you reluctantly apologising before returning back to tranquillity. The arguments never seemed to have a lasting effect on your relationship, thankfully, but the days afterwards you both would walk on eggshells around each other, but that never stopped either of you from loving ferociously.
Today was another one of those days where a fight broke out, this time it was over him bringing home the animosity from work and lashing out on you. It had been a particularly tricky case, you’ll give him that, it had involved the trafficking of children. In the midst of having one of the offenders in the cage, you got in his way, telling him that it would better if the guy went through the proper authorities so that Hank would not get any repercussions for the actions he was about to commit. But he hadn’t liked that you interrupted him, just wanting to give the offender a proper beating to satisfy his need for justice. Alas, you had done it anyways ripping him and Olinsky away to hand him over for the FBI to deal with him properly. He couldn’t see past what you’d done though, thinking you incredibly stupid, keeping his grudge from the moment it had happen till after you had finished work.
You had been cooking dinner for the two of you, trying to make small talk as you went. But each time you tried he denied you, either blatantly ignoring your conversation or grunting in response. That left you raging. So you went at him, explaining your point of view from earlier today, and in your mind everything you were saying made perfect logical sense. You weren’t even being that stubborn this time, completely seeing where he was coming from but not wanting him to get into any more trouble than he was already in. He was blinded though, his old way of doing things not allowing him to see through the angry that came from your actions. That had led to the shouting, loud and obnoxious, probably waking the neighbours in the process, not that either of you cared. The shouting had led to throwing, plates, his coat, his keys. And that had finally led to you slamming the door in his face, shutting him out of your shared house to go spend the night anywhere, for all you cared.
The next morning was luckily a Saturday, meaning you didn’t have to face Hank for two days, allowing you to cool off from the argument last night. Unbeknownst to you, Hank had managed to convince Olinsky to let him sleep on the couch in the garage, which turned out to be a mistake considering it was the most uncomfortable thing he’d ever slept on. But the lack of sleep had allowed for him to think about what had happened, and for once in his life admit that maybe what he had done was idiotic, he was just too stubborn to accept that he was wrong in the situation. So in the early hours of the morning, he decided he would return to the house and apologise to you, knowing this would linger on if not.
As he headed back over to your shared house, he planned out what he would do in his head. First, he would apologise and be sincere whilst saying it, and secondly, he would shower you with praise, making sure you knew how much he loved you despite the argument. Unlocking the door, he pushed it open, slowly walking into the house in order to work out your whereabouts. Finding you sat at the kitchen island, he cleared his throat to get your attention, trying not to frighten you in the process. You turned around, surprised to see your husband standing in front of you, especially after the turmoil between you two, but there he was in his full glory looking as though he was about to say something.
“If you’re gonna keep arguing with me you can leave again Hank,” you said not daring to look at him yet.
“I wasn’t gonna say anything about that, what I was going to say though is that I’m sorry. I was stupid yesterday and couldn't see past how angry I was, but now I can see that you were right, and it only took a night on Alvin’s downright disgusting couch.” He rationalised, laughing shyly at the sofa situation as he took your face between his palms, bringing you to look at him. Tears brimmed your eyes, last night was harsh on you, just wanting to protect him, since he was your husband after all. Him apologising though was a huge feat, his stubborn nature usually not allowing him to do such a thing, leading you to always do it, despite hating doing that with a passion. This was not a light thing, so the tears fell from your eyes as he wiped them away, bringing you into his arms and cradling you.
“Why are you crying sweetheart?”
“Thank you for apologising, I love you Hank so so much,” you expressed, wanting to totally overlook everything that had happened and just spend a nice, quiet evening giving and receiving affection.
“I love you to Y/N.” he replied as he hugged you, realising that arguing over menial stuff like this was pointless, it just took time away from the one he loved. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you and the days away from each other were just one less in the limited lifespan they both had.
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esamastation · 3 years ago
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lunahras: HP and ff7 should be fun
-
When Cloud heads to Aerith’s spring, it's to find someone already there.
It's not that unusual – even now, after so much time has passed, Aerith's spring sees a sort of… quiet pilgrimage every so often. People with lingering effects of Geostigma still wander in and out, taking a drink or a dive in hopes of being healed, before quietly, and quickly, wandering off again. The place still helps people, even now – but…
For all it's mystical healing qualities, there's something deeply off-putting about it. Even Neo-ShinRa didn't manage to stick with it, despite their plans of monetising the place's healing powers, of bottling the springwater and selling it for a fortune. No, the spring isn't for that. And even the thing it's for seems wrong, usually. Aerith's Spring is a bit like a graveyard, and not one you come to remember by – sticking close to it feels deeply, unnervingly disrespectful.
People usually only manage one trip, before something inside them goes, this isn't for me, I shouldn't be here.
So, Cloud gives the girl a side-eyed look, and then ignores her, checking the flowers instead. She lingers by the water and gives him a look, but says nothing as he rather ineffectually tries to tend to the flowers. They don't really need his help, though. The same way the spring doesn't really need anyone to keep an eye on it. He does it anyway.
Stopping would feel… worse.
Cloud putters around the age of the spring, waiting for the blond girl to leave. She doesn't, kneeling amidst the flowers and weaving her fingers into the weeds – so he leaves instead.
-
Two days later, the girl is there again and this time Cloud pays attention.
She's pale, thin enough to look frail, and somehow… foreign. Her hair is so light it looks almost white and her skin is about the same – and both are too clean for Edge. She's not around here, he doesn't think. With hair that pale and that long, she would've been noticed by certain people, which would've brought her to his attention eventually. Cloud's never seen her before, not elsewhere other than the spring, anyway.
She has leaves in her hair.
Their eyes meet over the water, and the blond girl smiles and says, quietly, "Hello." She has a soft voice.
Cloud hesitates, his hand longing to grip his sword handle, but he'd left it with the bike. "… hi," he says instead. "You sick?"
The girl tilts her head. "Not that I know of. I'm sleepwalking."
"… sleepwalking?" Cloud asks, frowning. "What?"
"Sleepwalking can be confusing," the girl hums and steeples her fingers, tapping her joined forefingers against her chin. "Or maybe it's a lucid dream. I can't quite tell. It doesn't matter, I reckon – it's very pretty here, either way."
"… right," Cloud says, hesitating. She doesn't seem troubled, or ill… but she sounds a little out of it. There's a faint smile on her face, carefree enough to look dreamy. She looks a little drugged, but also… not. It's weird, either way. "Are you lost?"
"Only when you know where you're going," she says and smiles a little wider. "Getting lost is hard, without a destination. I'm Luna."
"… you're the moon?" Cloud asks, wondering if it's a metaphor or something.
The girl laughs. "My name, silly. It's Luna. Hi, hello, nice you meet you. Is your name Sol?"
Cloud snorts. "No," he says. "Why would it be Sol?"
"You look like it," Luna says, smiling wider. "Your hair is beautiful. Like sunshine."
Cloud decides, whatever this is, whoever she is, he doesn't have the energy for her, and promptly walks out of there.
-
The day after, she's there again. Or still?
"Don't you have a place to go?" Cloud asks, concerned and annoyed.
"Hmm?" Luna asks, her fingers in the water. She seems to have lost one of her shoes. "Yes, I have places I'd like to be. None here, though, so I'm staying here. You don't mind, do you?"
He does a little – and then immediately feels awkward about it. as much time as Cloud spends by the spring, as much time as he spent by the church, neither were his to mind, really. He just… does. And though he'd enjoyed the fact that no one else could stand being around the spring for long and so left him alone, well… it wasn't his doing. He just benefited from it.
All good things come to an end.
"What's your name?" Luna asks, looking at him.
"Cloud," he answers, shaking his head. "You can't stay here."
"I think you'll find I can," Luna says, shrugging. "It's easy. Watch me."
Giving her a flat look, Cloud shakes his head and goes to check the flowers, just in case she stepped on them or something. They look fine, and he can't see any broken stems or damaged leaves. That's something, he supposes. "There's no food here, or shelter. You'll get wet if it rains."
"Probably. Little rain doesn't hurt anybody," Luna says and stands up. There's leaves and twigs and dirt stuck in her dress, but she doesn't seem to mind it. "I think you're just mad because this is your special place and you didn't want to share it. Did someone die here?"
Cloud winces and looks away, idly picking at dry leaves. "No. Not… not here."
"I'm sorry for your loss," Luna says. She has a stick behind her ear, it looks a bit like Wutaian chopsticks. Long, slender, lacquered looking piece of wood. She takes it off, spinning her long hair into a messy, lopsided bun, and using the stick to pin it in place. Hair stick, then.
Turning to him, she smiles. "I'll help you weed their garden."
Cloud opens his mouth to complain, but can't get the words out. There's understanding in her eyes, but no censure. It's like Tifa's, but lighter, because it comes without knowledge. "That… isn't necessary. There's not much to do."
"Everything's better with little help," Luna says determinedly. "Cloud."
-
The next time Cloud sees Luna, he has blood on his hand and she has a flower in her hair. It makes his heart clench for a moment, until he sees it's not one from the spring – it's made from paper. Origami, or whatever it is the Wutaians call it.
She looks tired.
"Hello again," she says and tilts her head. "Are you alright? That's a big sword you got."
Cloud looks down at the fully assembled fusion sword and sighs, hoisting it over his shoulder. "There's monsters about," he says. "One of them got a jump on me, but I took care of it."
Luna blinks, tilting her head even further. "Monsters, really? What kind? Are they big? I've been looking Marbblers – do any of them have snouts like elephants, but bodies like spiders?"
"… no, not that I know of," Cloud admits slowly. "No, they're just… normal monsters."
"Normal monsters," Luna says, and her eyes shine with interest. "There are normal monsters. I think I would like to see that."
Giving her a suspicious look, Cloud shifts his footing. "You've… never seen monsters before?"
"I've seen beings and beasts and all kinds of things in between," Luna muses, stroking her chin. "I wouldn't call any of them monsters, though. Well. Few people might match the description. Mostly, though, what people mean when they say monster tends to be something certain people don't like."
That's… either very insightful or very naïve. Cloud can't quite tell which. "In that case you should probably stay away from monsters. Or at least, have someone with you who knows what they're doing with monsters."
Luna turns to him, her expression lit up. "Do you?" she asks
"Er…"
-
The next time Cloud sees Luna, it's to find her gearing up for an monster investigation mission, and it's all he can do to stop her from getting herself killed in her first encounter with a monster
Things… really don't get any more sensible from there.
---
Eh this sorta did and didn’t run away from me.
I think that’s it for the prompts. all other prompts were AC x something else, and I gotta be honest, guys, I’m kinda full up on AC stuff.
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shoutogepi · 5 years ago
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Jealousy Has Its Perks
Todoroki Shouto
word count : 10.4K holy shit im tired
[  ✘ (nsfw!), ☀︎ ]  sin with a cute ending
themes : jealous,dom!shouto, brat,sub!reader, friends with benefits, degradation, quirk use, edging, overstimulation, general bdsm things, & a sweet lil confession
bio : Even though you’re not his, Shouto can’t help but turn green with envy when he sees you dancing on another man at the club.
author’s note : uhhhh can i get a hell yeahhHHH for jealous fwb trope? lmao my basic ass loves these. hope y’all do too <3
also available on AO3 here
  ─── ・°* ゚✧:* • 。゚:*・☽・*: 。゚•*:✧ ゚*°・ ───
🅂hinsou’s hands land on your waist, cold fingertips pressing into your exposed midriff and guiding your hips along with his. The circular motion has your head spinning, and you let your skull fall back onto his sturdy chest at the feeling of his semi brushing against your ass. Shinsou’s purple locks tickle your neck as he bends and presses his lips to your skin, sucking on the skin just hard enough to leave a ghost of a bruise. His hands cup your hips, squeezing the flesh there softly while his thumbs trace the crest of the bones.
The song blasting through the club changes, a novel and heavy bass causing your throat to vibrate. The sudden need to quench your thirst emerges, and you pull away from the handsome man regretfully. His lavender irises regard you with understanding as you point to the bar, holding up a finger to signal you won’t be long.
Your heels stick to the dancefloor slightly as you cut through the throngs of club-goers, and unsurprisingly a handful of guys attempt to stop you on your travels. Finding a familiar pink head of hair, you slip into the empty spot next to Ashido and let out a sigh of relief as your elbows land on the wooden counter. Perspiration makes the hairs at the back of your neck stick to your skin, and you fan yourself with a cocktail napkin as you attempt to catch the bartender’s attention.
“Not doing so bad for yourself, Y/N,” Ashido grins at you coyly, her words a tad slurred as her black eyes give you a once-over.
You let out a chuckle, painted lips curving knowingly. “Yeah, well… he used to have a crush on me back in the day,” you explain with a nonchalant shrug, finally giving your order to the woman behind the bar. You look at Shinsou over your shoulder, who has returned to his table of friends and is currently being shoved, high-fived, and noogied animatedly.
Ashido gasps exaggeratedly, her mouth turning from an ‘o’ of shock to a grin of delight. “Two heroes wrapped around your finger at once? I can’t believe you,” she laughs, perhaps too hard, because you have to hold her arm tightly to keep her from falling off her stool.
“Hey now, I’m a free woman!” You reason, thanking the bartender as they hand you an icy glass. “I can fool around with whoever I want, thank you very much.”
“Can’t argue with sound logic,” Ashido taps your glass with hers, throwing back the remaining contents of her drink. “You know, you should tap Bakugou, too. Last night, he Lord-Explosion-Murdered this pussy.”
You snort, the alcohol burning your nostrils as it leaks into your nose from the abrupt reaction to Mina’s words. All the pink-haired woman does is laugh with you, the both of you maybe a step past tipsy but not nearly blackout drunk. Not yet, anyway.
“Shinsou though, really? I’m surprised… I thought you were too in love with IcyHot’s dick to tap anybody else,” Ashido teases, poking your shoulder as a frown forms on your face. Her words are playful, but they send irritation surging through your veins. That asshole had cancelled your weekly appointment tonight, which is why you’re here at the club, prowling for a suitable replacement.  
You shrug again, allowing the bitter liquid to drift past your lips before you speak again. “What can I say? He knows how to get the job done, and he’s sexy as hell.”
“You sound a little smitten. He must be pretty damn good,” Ashido wiggles her brows at you, a devious smile making its way to her face.
You disregard her comment, looking away from your friend with an eye roll. Smitten? Your relationship with Shouto is strictly physical. But maybe you had been a bit too disappointed when he’d sent you that text earlier. Shaking your head, you take a gulp of your drink, willing the intrusive thought to disappear.
Ashido’s phone vibrates and you watch her face light up at the message. After a brief moment, she stands, collecting her jacket and purse. “Hmm, seems like Bakugou is calling for an emergency meeting,” she winks at you, flashing you a rather lewd photo of the blonde that was clearly not meant for you to see as she walks away. “Give my regards to Shinsou! I wanna hear about all the nasty stuff he does to you with that mind control quirk of his.”
You can’t help but chuckle at that, sighing as you cross your arms. Would Shinsou really be enough to satisfy your cravings? His quirk does interest you sexually, but it’s unclear if he’d be willing to dominate you like that. He always seemed like the type to go with the flow… and tonight, you really need someone to force you to swim against the current, so to speak.
“Shinsou, huh?”
Speak of the icy devil. The voice behind you makes your body still, your eyes widening at his deep tone. The scent of his encaptivating cologne infiltrates the air around you, and a hand slides around your waist, pushing you backwards against his firm chest. You swallow, your tongue poking out to wet your lips in anticipation. What’s he doing here?
“Already forgetting about me, angel?” Lips ghost over the shell of your ear, his hand gliding across your torso until it reaches the other side of your waist, grabbing there and spinning you around. He catches you as you turn, snatching your wrist with his other hand to steady your half-finished drink.
You look up into his heterochromatic eyes, noticing a new emotion simmering there. Is that… jealousy? His cold breath fans over your flushed face, and you bask in the cool relief it provides in contrast to the stuffy club air. “It was you who cancelled our appointment,” you murmur, feigning innocence as you look to the side in a faux-bashful manner, “I needed to find a substitute. A girl has needs, you know.”
Shouto grins down at you, but it seems like more of a snarl as his eyes glare down at you with hostility. One eyebrow raised in mockery, he chuckles lowly. “And Shinsou Hitoshi is gonna do that for you? Are you sure he’s big enough to fill my shoes, angel?”
Your eyes wander back to the intimidating man before you, lingering on the ridges of his muscular form hidden underneath his button-up and slacks. Feeling brave, you down the rest of your drink, tongue rolling out and over the lip of the emptied glass. Shouto’s eyes burn as they follow the movement, his lips parting slightly while his grip tightens on your waist. Shooting him a playful smile, you tug your wrist free, placing the vacant glass on the bar. “What are you even doing here, Shouto?” You change the subject, hand reaching up to tug on his slim tie as a cheeky grin splits your lips. “You don’t like to have fun.”
The action causes him to lean closer to you, his face next to yours. “I was dragged here against my own will, of course— boy’s night. But would you believe my surprise when I saw my little minx walk in, all eyes on her in her skimpiest dress?” His baritone voice loud and clear despite the blaring music, his lips hover dangerously close. The hand you’d freed strikes your ass abruptly, causing you to jump closer to him in shock. His fingers hold the reddened cheek through the thin material of your dress, gathering you into his chest. No one seems bothered by the blatantly sexual action in the club, everyone distracted with their drinks and their own sensual pursuits. “And then, can you imagine how I felt watching her grind up against mind-control, watching him put his filthy fucking hands on what’s mine?”
You let out a heavy breath, delighted at how responsive he is. How possessive he is. “What’s yours?” You challenge, hands landing on his broad chest. His expression makes you press your legs together eagerly, your body starting to bend to his will.
Shouto’s hand leaves your waist to cradle the back of your neck, forcing you to bend your gaze to meet his. “Mine,” he whispers, his lips inching closer to yours by the second. Your pulse pounding, your fingers curling into the cotton of his shirt, your eyes flutter closed. His lips brush over yours, and then he pulls away.
A whine of protest escapes you, and you shove your palms against his chest in annoyance. But he doesn’t even budge, his fingers slipping into your hair and pulling your defiant face to look at him.
“Let’s get outta here, angel,” he nods toward the exit, releasing you and lightly smacking your ass again before his fingers settle at the small of your back, “I think I need to remind you who you belong to.” Shivers shoot down your spine at his choice of words, effectively drowning the bratty response you were so ready to quip at him. Without even a glance at Shinsou, you allow Shouto to guide you out of the establishment and into the crisp night air.
The brisk walk to his luxurious apartment is silent, but laden with anticipation. Your brain begins to ponder if his words had a deeper meaning. The two of you had been engaging in this affair for months now— you aren’t quite sure how it came to be. Your relationship had remained stringently physical, but you couldn’t help the butterflies that filled your stomach when he held you through the night, when his hands would rub your exhausted body tenderly, and when he would kiss you for hours before you’d slip into a satiated, peaceful slumber. And you did not dare to acknowledge the warmth that would blossom in your chest when you’d drowsily awake, still swaddled against his muscular chest with his arms around you as sunlight peeked through the blinds. Physical, yes— your relationship is only physical… regardless of the fuzzy feelings that ebb through you when you’re next to him.
And when he had proposed to have you come over twice in one weekend, you’d nearly panicked at the raw excitement that coursed through you at the premise. After much consideration you had denied his request, fearful that if you allowed yourself even a shred of further indulgence you’d be entirely consumed by the captivating man. He hadn’t overstepped that boundary since, and you weren’t sure if you felt appreciative or disappointed.
Your train of thought is interrupted as you reach the tall doors of his apartment building. The complex is perhaps one of the most expensive in the city— the lobby boasts flat leather sofas and sleek wooden tables. Lush tropical plants with leaves as wide as tennis rackets break up the space, magnificent orchids dotting the area just sparingly enough, and to top it off, an entire wall with running water rushing over the flat surface, creating a sheet of liquid that trickles quietly as you wait for the elevator.
Next to you, Shouto has his hands in his pockets, a blank expression on his face as usual. But after months of getting to know him, you can easily recognize the irritation lingering on his handsome mug. You are not able to think of any words that could possibly calm Shouto’s crackling, brooding intensity, but honestly, a large part of you desperately wants to find out what exactly he has in store for you. It’s clear that he has no intention of forgetting you were about to leave with another man, and his blatant acrimony brings a sliver of joy to you while jealousy oozes out of his every pore— you know you’re in for a wild night.
When the door closes with a deafening click behind you, your body freezes as you wait with bated breath. Sure enough, two large hands curl around your stomach, coasting down your pelvis in a V shape. His long fingers nearly graze your clothed slit, but he changes direction at the last moment, instead securing his palms on your inner upper thighs. He rubs the flesh there roughly, making your head fall back against his shoulder as you gaze up at him. His smoky eyes are already on you, a smirk decorating his pretty lips as his fingers work on your sensitive muscles. Thumbs brushing against the sides of your panties, his movements push the hem of your short dress up along your hips.
“You need to be fucked pretty bad, huh, angel?” He taunts, analyzing how your ass rubs zealously against his crotch. His smirk only grows as you nod, your hand flying up to grapple onto his bicep. “Bad enough to drop your standards so embarrassingly low?”
You snort at his words, turning your head so your eyes catch his. This asshole has some nerve getting jealous after he was the one who cancelled on you.  “Shinsou is just as hot as you, Shouto,” you reply boldly, wondering what exactly the price of your words will be. How far can you push this envious beast? Will you be able to take his punishment?
Shouto’s expression darkens, allowing his hair to fall over his eyes as his stare falls to the floorboards. His hands leave your skin, and you whirl around ready to dish out another line, but he’s already a step ahead of you. He lashes out, yanking your body against his by swooping his hand underneath your thigh and cupping your bare ass. He lifts your body so your heels leave the floor, rushing to press your back flat against the drywall. He’s hoisted you up high enough to set your ass against the thin, tall table next to the door which usually holds his keys.
Your legs parted with him standing between them, he places his hands on the tops of your thighs. A low chuckle rumbles out of him, his tidy fingernails trailing up your flesh. “Just as hot as me, hmm? Is he really, Y/N?” His left hand jumps from your thigh to your cunt, the only barrier between you two your skimpy panties. The heat emanating off his palm catches you off guard, a moan tearing out of you as he easily cups your covered sex, sending a searing fever through your body.
“Fuck,” you whimper, hips bucking instinctively against his palm, your body hoping for some kind of friction. The heat makes your pussy twitch, stirring as a cat slowly pulled from a deep slumber.
He tilts his head, as if he doesn’t understand why you’re breathless. “Huh? What was that?” He wiggles his fingertips a bit, enjoying how you whine as the ends of his blistering fingers dig into your core through the material of your panties. Your wetness drips through the thin cloth to coat his hot digits, making it easier to glide them against you.
“More, Shouto,” you squeak, panting heavily as his fingers rub along your slit at an infuriatingly slow pace.
Shouto lets out a low purr of satisfaction at your plea, savoring how your smooth leg tenses up underneath his other palm. Your sweet whimpers are music to his ears, his right hand moving around your thigh to meander toward your ass. “No, baby. Not until my angel answers me,” he murmurs, ducking his head down and placing his lips against the delicate skin on your neck.
A wayward moan evades your gasping lungs as his tongue ravishes your flesh, his teeth scraping over the wet skin. Your legs wrap around his waist, wiggling your body forward so your soft breasts press up against his hard chest, your cunt inching closer to his crotch. “Ugh— nooo,” you gasp as a fingertip presses harshly against your core, just barely pushing your panties into your pussy.
“No? No what?” He laughs darkly, his breath tickling your sensitive collarbone. He draws back from you, his intense gaze focusing on the other side of your neck before he looks directly at you, a sinister glint in his eyes.
Your lip trembling, the brat you’d been so ready to let free is for once taciturn at his dominance. Your submissive nature leaking out in desperation, you whine when his fingertip recedes slightly, leaving your panties barely inside of you without the pressure you really want. “No— Shinsou’s not nearly as hot as you, Shouto!” You rush out, heavy breaths making your chest rise and fall swiftly, restless for his touch to return to you.
But Shouto does not seem appeased by your admission. In fact, his gaze becomes a glare, his mouth curling into a snarl as he grabs your hips, crushing your body against his. “I hate hearing another man’s name come out of your pretty little mouth, Y/N,” he growls.
You’re shocked by his possessiveness, your eyes widening like saucers as his teeth skim your pouting lips. His proclamation makes a cocktail of doubt and lust unfurl in the corners of your body, but you’re torn as you wonder if he really thinks of you as his. Before you can ponder the meaning behind his statement, his eyelids shut and he smashes his lips onto yours.
Your arms are around his neck in less than a second, all thoughts vanishing as your nails scratch his scalp through the short, buzzed hair at the base of his undercut. He groans against your mouth, eliciting a moan from you in response. He takes the opportunity in stride, his hot tongue thrusting into your mouth as hot steam puffs out his nose, his calloused hands squeezing your body carnally. Your lips dance with his clumsily, your other hand cupping the corner of his sharp jawline and pulling his lips closer to yours.  
He pulls away from you as your hips begin to grind against his, his eyes still closed with his lips pulling back into a snarky smile. Your needy mewl of disappointment makes his eyes slit open, regarding you with a predatory gaze. He takes in your desirous expression, his stare cold yet sizzling with passion. “You let him defile your perfect skin, angel?”
The hickey Shinsou had left is barely even that— nearly indistinguishable from your skin tone— yet Shouto’s eyes make the flesh on your neck blister with his scalding intensity. Your cheeks flush red, his words fanning the fire inside of you as you bite your lip. You had hoped he wouldn’t notice, but now you realize it was foolish of you to even allow yourself to think his perceptive gaze would skip over something so blatant.
“This heavenly body is mine to mark,” he hisses, a hand fisting your hair and pulling your neck back roughly to reveal the hidden skin from the shadows.  The vaguely purple mark now on display in the dim mood lighting of his entryway, more steam billows from the man as he sneers in contempt. “And only mine. Got it, baby?” He does not allow you to answer— his mouth attacks the bruise, harshly sucking the skin while he washes away any recollection of the other man with ferocious swipes from his strong tongue.
Your back bows, your body wriggling in his grasp at the surge of devastating arousal that pulses through you. You shriek his name, hands clawing hysterically into his shoulder and the soft hair atop his head. Your pussy clenches around nothing, making you very aware of the aching need for him to claim you building in your core. Your legs snag his hips closer to yours, his body crashing into you as he grunts, lips finally releasing your battered skin. Without a doubt, the once indistinct mark is now more akin to the remnants of a punch to the throat, the colors already eclipsing into a deep shade of violet.
The lust crackles in the air between you two like thunder, your body a savannah ready to receive the generous relief of the first deluge in months. God, it’d only been a week since you last saw the man, but the unmitigated yearning for him to ravage you is the only emotion you can process.
“Please, Shouto, I need you to fuck me,” you beg, the words slipping out of you like a wet bar of soap from your desperate clutches. You’re mortified at your shamefully wanton admission, your cheeks still red and your body flushed, nearly shaking. You are not accustomed to this submissive side of yourself, but the brat inside of you only watches on in avid curiosity. If he doesn’t escalate this tryst fast enough, you’re afraid your body will fold like a limp noodle in his strong arms.
Shouto seems just as affected as you, his pupils dilated and his erection painfully straining against the confines of his slacks. His hands leave your frame, going to loosen the collar of his shirt by yanking his tie loose and then beginning to unbuckle his belt. You lean forward, your lips meeting his again as your fingers eagerly land on his cheeks, beckoning him closer to you. He moans into your mouth, fist nearly ripping the leather belt from the loops on his slacks, the metal of the snake-shaped buckle klinking loudly as he discards it carelessly onto the tabletop. Hands trailing up your spine, he tugs the zipper of your dress down your back, effortlessly lifting your hips in one hand to slip the garment under your ass and off your legs.
The inferno of jealousy ignites once again as he appraises your figure, clad in a matching set of white silky lace adorned with satin ribbons on each hip and one beneath the valley of your breasts. You’d worn this and Shinsou had almost seen such a marvel? Seen your delectable body in this gorgeous lingerie that he himself had never feasted his starved eyes upon?
Unaware of his change in mood, your lips move along his, begging for him to kiss you back as your tongue swipes his full bottom lip. His palms slide along your back, moving to cup your ass cheeks as he picks you up. You nibble on his earlobe as he swiftly carries you to his bedroom, his fingers jabbing into your behind in response. He kicks open the ajar door forcefully, unflinching as the doorknob nearly cracks the wall. Sliding onto the edge of the mattress, he sits with you on his lap, your legs still secure around his torso. His rough palms glide over your hips, rounding your waist and seizing your breasts, lifting the flesh to sit more perkily on your chest in perfectly round spheres.  
“Why are you so fucking gorgeous, Y/N?” He groans, eyes closing in pleasure as you feel his cock twitch beneath you. He presses his mouth to the supple skin just above the cusp of the bra, slurping and nipping and leaving a trail of pretty pink marks. “You’re damn ethereal, angel.”
You’re gasping for air, hips unabashedly rolling against his, the feeling of his strained length making your desire for him to fuck you senseless multiply. Your hands latch onto his broad shoulders to steady yourself, your mind spinning dizzily with desire and the prolonged buzz from your earlier drinks.
“Take off my tie.”
The command rouses you from your far-away state, your fingers slightly trembling as you work on the silky material of the tie. After what seems like an eternity, the knot loosens and the tie slides off his neck into your hands. Shouto’s lips cover yours again, instantly enchanting you so that you don’t notice the sleek item slip through your fingers.
All of a sudden your front meets the cool sheets, your lips ripped away from his. Instead your face meets his pillow, engulfing your senses in the sexy, virile smell of him. You moan into the pillow, ass pushing into the air as your cunt throbs between your legs, ready to be taken in whatever manner he decides. His knees land on either side of your hips, his bulge rubbing into your ass teasingly as his hands close around your wrists. Tugging them behind your back carefully, he loops the tie around the both of them and fastens the knot with a firm pull, jerking once more for good measure.
You swallow into the pillow, teeth poking out to capture your bottom lip when he trails a sole finger along your spine. He’d never tied you up like this before, and the concept excites you to the point that your arousal visibly permeates your white panties.
“Do you feel that?” Shouto inquires, rutting his hips against your bottom so his clothed cock rubs between your ass cheeks. He’s panting lightly, his palms groping your ass and pinching the skin torturously. “Can you feel how much I want you, Y/N?”
“Fuck yes,” you answer, your head turning to lay against the pillow so he can see half your face and hear your voice. “I want you too, Shouto— I need you.”
He sighs at your saccharine words, almost swayed by your submissive antics. If he gives in now, his cock could be in your tight hole in just seconds… But then he wouldn’t get to have his way with you.
“Mmm, you’re cute when you’re desperate, baby,” he remarks, grasping your hips and pulling you down the sheets. He maneuvers you over his lap, and your eyes bug out of your skull as you assume position, knowing what comes next— he’d only done this once before but the memories of that night makes your pussy twinge excitedly. Your arms tied behind your back, your face dangles perilously beside his ankle, your forehead almost skimming the wooden floor. Your body is stiff, and Shouto hums as his hands drift along every inch of your back, ass, and the backs of your thighs.
“I wanna give you what you want, angel, but I promised I would remind you who you belong to, didn’t I?” His words are phrased like a question, but his tone implies them as a statement. Unsure what he wants, you keep quiet, waiting for him to continue.
Apparently, that’s the wrong move, because his freezing hand slaps down hard onto your ass. A mix between a shout and a whine falls out of your lips, your fingers clutching onto themselves in apprehension. Your breathing picks up, ascending into a pant as his other hand caresses the reddened skin with a soothing heat exuding from his palm.
“Did you know I was going to be at the club tonight?”
His question catches you off guard, and you think for a moment before replying with a simple, honest “No.”
Shouto lets out a long sigh, his warm hand leaving your ass and making you tense in preparation.
“So you wore this little number thinking you would just show it to whomever you went home with?” Oh, that’s where he’s going with this.
Again, you’re not sure how to answer. Either way will be unsatisfactory— either you say yes and that would certainly result in a jealous smack, or you say no and he’d spank you for lying to him. You cannot come to a decision fast enough, and the next frigid slap across your other ass cheek steals your breath away as you whimper, your pussy clenching in sadistic delight.
“Answer me, angel. Or I’ll turn this flawless little ass of yours scarlet.”
“I bought it for you!” You blurt out meekly, your cheeks flushing with mortification. It’s not a direct answer to his question, but it’s more than enough to amuse him.
The warmth of his left hand feels hotter this time as it curves around your irritated skin. “Oh?” Shouto all but purrs, his brow raised in interest. “For me, angel?”
You nod, even though your head is below his eye level. “I was gonna wear it tonight, just for you,” you whisper sincerely, blush bright red as your thumbs rub over your knuckles in a self-soothing manner. Deciding you’re already deep enough into your embarrassing confession, you finish your thought with your eyes scrunched shut as you prepare yourself for what you know will come next. “But you rainchecked, so I… thought Shinsou might enjoy it instead.”
Shouto remains eerily quiet for a moment, your heartbeat accelerating wildly as he leaves you waiting, questioning just how he will react. Your body jumps as his left hand swirls around your hips, his arm resting on your back to gather your ass higher across his lap. The neat bows on your panties unravel at your hips, the cool air hitting your swollen cunt as the material is snatched away and discarded. He forces you to wait for another dizzying pause, the urge to squirm in his grasp tempting but you force yourself to stay motionless.
Tears spring into your eyes as his palm crashes against you, his arctic hand causing your body to thrash in recoil, and a strong gust of chilled wind slapping against your dripping folds. A shaky breath escapes you, morphing into a distraught cry when his hot thumb plunges into your aching core, rubbing and curling against your shuddering walls with spite.
“I thought I told you not to say his fucking name,” Shouto jeers, taking his thumb out of you to rub mercilessly betwen your petals, spreading your abundant slick with ease. Coasting down to your clit, he smirks as you sob, your legs quaking.
Your hips jut backwards on their own accord, forcing his thumb to penetrate your cunt again. You moan at the stimulation, squeezing the digit and grinding so it presses against your velvet walls.
He chuckles, pressing the finger as deep as he can and savoring the shameless wails the action induces. “How can you look so pure and act so naughty?” He wonders aloud, his frosty hand trailing along your thigh as he works his thumb inside of you. “You’re really just a little slut, aren’t you? Fucking yourself with my finger so brazenly.” He sighs as he feels your core clenching around his thumb, grinning as you whine at the loss of the digit.
“Please, just fuck me,” you exclaim, turning your face to look at his haughty gaze above you,  “Make me forget about anyone else!”  
Shouto pinches your inflamed ass cheek, forcing another whimper to croak out of your throat. “Aha, is that your game, angel? Want me to fuck you so hard I’m the only man you see? Fuck this little pussy so good no other cock can satisfy you, hmm?” He maneuvers your body effortlessly, positioning you to face him as you sit on his lap. The smooth material of his slacks irritates your sore ass slightly, but all you can bring yourself to do is nod, your arms shuffling behind you with the want to reach out and touch him.
His hands settle on the apex of your thighs, rugged fingertips soothing the skin there before he lifts your body, standing and placing you neatly on the floor before him. Casting an innocent look up at him, you shuffle to your knees, arching your back to your breasts and ass pop out for his aerial vantage point.
“You know what to do, don’t you baby?” Shouto snickers as he untucks his shirt and begins to snap open the buttons down the center of his chest, revealing his creamy skin to your lustful eyes. Leaving the shirt on with his abs on display, he undoes the clasp and zip at the front of his hips, slowly unveiling the delicious V tapering south below his slacks. You squirm in impatience, eyes glued to the trail of fine, bicolored hair he uncovers as his slacks sag tantalizingly slow. His thumbs slither underneath the elastic band across his pelvis, lowering the hem just enough to show you the base of his thick, hard cock. “Alright, angel,” he rumbles, and you feel a stray bead of arousal drip down your thigh at his gruff tone, “Convince me you deserve to have this cock in you.”
As soon as he shoves his briefs low enough for his length to spring free, your lips drown his cockhead with haste, your tongue welcoming his hot, heavy tip with eager flicks. Shouto groans when you suck abruptly, your cheeks hollowing as you allow his member to drive deeper into your mouth. His hand landing on the back of your head, you take that as your cue to leap forward, slamming the entirety of his impressive cock into your open throat as your nose brushes into his abdomen.
“Fuck, Y/N!” Shouto gasps, his hips bucking into your face and shoving the tip of his dick into the depths of your throat.
Tears beading in your eyes, you refuse to let up, releasing a loud moan that makes his cock vibrate. Shouto throws his head back, his fingers curling in your hair as his hips recede, leaving only the tip inside your mouth and you gratefully take in a breath of air before he shoves back in.
“You take my cock so well, angel— fuuuuck, just like that,” he grumbles, pistoning into your face at a slow, deep tempo, the back of your throat caressing his tip delectably as a fat tear races down your cheek. Your cheeks flush pink and your chest tightens from the lack of air, but Shouto’s low grunts falling on your greedy ears has your cunt pulsing with need, your spit trickling down your chin. Shouto’s rabid gaze locks with yours, monitoring your wet eyes and your pleading pout as he speaks, “You look so beautiful slobbering on me like this, my little slut.”
You flutter your eyelashes at him, humming on his length as you continue to bob back and forth. Your tongue lathering the veiny underside of his length, the promiscuous flavor of salty pre blooms on your tastebuds. Your head recedes back, keeping just the swollen head inside your mouth as you twirl your tongue in circles around him.
You pop his cock out of your mouth, and send him a closed-lip, coy smile as you smear the slick tip against your mouth. Shouto sighs when your half-lidded gaze meets his, your tongue poking out and curving to dawdle up and down his length.
“That’s enough, baby. Come here.” Shouto bends and picks you up from the floor, kneeling on the mattress and crawling toward the center with you in his arms. Your back collides with the silky sheets, your arms awkwardly stuck behind you with the tie rubbing your wrists. Shouto opens your legs, hovering over your body and making you suddenly feel small in comparison to him. Your cunt parts at the motion, exposing your twitching, saturated hole to him and sending a fresh blush to your cheeks. One hand propping himself up, the other stroking your cheek gingerly, he ushers you to look at him. He whispers to you, his voice calm yet enticing, “You want me to make you feel good, angel?”
“Please,” you implore, your voice hoarse and quiet from his abuse on your throat, “Please touch me, Shouto.” Your mind hazy with a lascivious fog clouding your senses, you can barely find the words to beg.
Even just his hands floating down to your breasts makes you shiver. Your lip between your teeth again, Shouto smirks at you as his fingers pinch the ribbon holding your bra together. Deliberately taking his time, he unravels the neat bow, examining how the silky fabric falls apart so smoothly. The bra cups fall to the side, exposing the smooth skin of your breasts to his feasting eyes. You release a string of mewls as his lips graze the marks he’d left behind earlier, darkening the blemishes with gentle bites. Tongue tracing around your areola, your thighs squeeze around his waist when the warm muscle brushes along a pebbled nipple. Pressing your lips together harshly as he sucks the pert bud into his mouth, your hips jolt against his. His hand kneads your other breast expertly, tweaking your nipple between his skilled fingers. The rough pads of his fingertips only make your nipples stand out more, scraping against you and sending your head spinning.
“You like that, Y/N? Want all my attention on you, don’t you, greedy girl?” Shouto purrs, your breast falling from his lips as he grins at your cheekily.
Swallowing another moan, your breath comes out ragged as you retort, “I could say the same for you, baby.” His fingers on your nipple press together in a pinch, eliciting a strained whimper from you.
Shouto chuckles, poking his tongue out to rove over your other breast, flicking the nub playfully before he speaks a single word. “Touché.” Drifting lower between your legs, his lips leave a wet path down your torso, nibbling and slickening your skin. His mouth littering your body with kisses, an artist eager to make a fresh blank canvas his own. Hot breath colliding with your glistening sex, he groans at the sight of you spread before him. “But damn, angel, can you really blame me?”
Without any warning, he thrusts his tongue into your folds, swiping vertically along your slit and dipping into your entrance with a moan, eyes closed as he relishes your sweet nectar. Your hips dig into the mattress as you struggle to handle the instant relief his touch provides, unfiltered noises of pleasure escaping you. One of his hands slides underneath your thigh to cup your ass and bring your body closer to his face.  
Every time Shouto’s mouth is on you, you’re reminded of just how good he is at pleasuring you. He alternates between rubbing his tongue along your silky inner walls and curling the muscle around your clit, sucking the nerve into his mouth and applying just enough suction to steal your breath away. Your body reacts to his touch naturally, with each moan summoned true and raw.
His fingers prod your sex gently, coating the digits in your essence before they slide into your body at a snail’s pace. The friction of his touch inside of you makes your legs clamp around his head, eliciting a deep laugh from the man that reverberates against your clit. Your eyes roll backwards as he begins to pump the digits at a reasonable pace, knuckles curling deeply in search of that plush spot that makes you fall apart underneath him. Saliva mixing with your arousal, Shouto’s chin is drenched in the sinful concoction as he continues his hunt with determination.
“S-Shit,” you choke as his fingertips push into just the right place, your thighs gripping his head so tight you think you’ll crush him. But Shouto doesn’t seem to care, angling his wrist to gain better access, lithe fingers speeding up as his teeth graze your clit. His vigilant eyes fix on your face twisted in ecstasy, minding how your pussy begins to clench onto his digits in desperation, trying their best to suck them back inside. Your heels dig into his broad back as your body begins to squirm, preparing for your first orgasm of the night.
But just as you’re about to tip over the edge, Shouto pulls back. Your eyes fly open to look at him in distress, your lips parting with a gasp as your climax flees without a trace. “Shouto!” You hiss, regarding his sultry smirk in shock. This man has some audacity. “I was about to-”
He interrupts you, his fingers gliding back into your core without resistance, lips wrapping around your clit again. The sudden pleasure of the intensity stokes the mere embers of your previous orgasm with fervor, your head flinging backwards onto the pillow as your spine bows.
Your palms behind your back are slick with sweat, your hardened nipples cutting into the still air of the room as your body writhes on its own accord. Your thighs tremble ever-so-slightly on top of his shoulders, your eyes shutting again as you try your best to hold in your whimpers.
But Shouto doesn’t like that, his mouth abandoning your pearl to snarl, “If you wanna cum I’ve gotta hear your voice. I wanna hear you beg for me, baby.”
His dirty words send a new wave of humiliation crashing over you, your mind horrified at your body’s betrayal. Your submissive demeanor is by no means akin to your usual behavior during your weekly rendezvous, and you’re honestly impressed and shocked that Shouto had coaxed it out with such ease. Already you can feel the tension building in your core, your body happily receptive of his generous caress. Your chest heaves as you attempt to even your frazzled breaths, but once your focus switches to that, the pleasure increases exponentially between your legs. Your cunt quivers obviously, Shouto’s eyebrow raising as he shoots you a taunting look.
“I’m the only one who can get you so close so quick, angel. Aren’t I?” His mouth leaves your clit to speak but his teeth capture the nerve instead as he speaks, his hot breath steaming against your throbbing cunt.
Your chin against your chest, you nod vigorously, your hips inching closer to close the distance between your cunt and his mouth. Your fingers curled into fists against the sheets, your back sticks to the sheets with perspiration.
Shouto shakes his head, teeth releasing your aching clit as he clicks his tongue at you. “I said, let me hear you, Y/N.” His fingers pull out, the fingertips just barely inside as he rims your entrance, just enough to keep your pussy throbbing. He exhales, an icy breath rushing over your sopping sex.
“N-No!” You wail, your voice nearly breaking as your orgasm fades away once again. You were so fucking close! You let out another sob, tossing your head to the side in humiliating agony.
“There’s that divine voice of yours,” Shouto chuckles, nipping your inner thigh playfully. Taking his fingers away, his thumb replaces them as it glides over your soaked slit, dipping into your clenched core amusedly before tearing it away again. Your destitute whine only feeds his dominance, and he rolls his thumb over your puffy nerve gently, enjoying how your hips buck weakly in response. “Come on now, angel. Just tell me what I want to hear.”
Your chest jolts as his thumb presses down just a pinch, cruising down to rub your entrance brusquely. “You’re the only one that can make me so breathless, Shouto. Please,” your voice wavers as you grovel, eyes locking with his, “Please, make me cum! I need your touch, I need your cock, I— I need you!”
Shouto’s gaze flickers for a moment before he smirks, ducking down to kiss your clit softly. “See, baby? Was that so hard?” He murmurs, his words rumbling on your shivering pussy before his tongue parts your folds, driving deep inside you.
You scream at the intense bliss as his thumb works quickly over your clit, his tongue assaulting your velvet insides. Your thighs weakly tighten around his head, your body unable to stay still as the pleasure wracks through you. Lewd moans and swears tumble out of you as you grind against his face, thrilled by the way his tongue never tires. The pressure between your legs is back and faster heightening, your eyes flying open in shock at how astonishingly fast your climax is approaching.
“S-Shouto, I— I’m—,” is all that you can get out before you seize in his arms, your entire body spasming in ecstasy. Shouto only pins your hips down against the mattress with his free hand, forcing your legs to stay open as he continues to assault your cunt, tongue pummeling your tender core and thumb abusing your clit. You can’t even let out a moan because your lungs are empty— all that slithers out of you a string of shrill and broken cries. The pleasure thrums through your body from head to toe, your fingers and toes curling and splaying as sweat runs down your skin.
Shouto diligently continues to lap at your cunt, slurping up the fresh essence dripping out of you onto the sheets. When he pulls back all he can see is your blissed-out, flustered expression, and your nipples standing upright in arousal. Wiping his chin with the back of his hand, he tears the shirt off his shoulders in one swift motion. His slacks shed just as quick, he grabs your hips and throws you onto your front, your face once again in his pillow. “You came without my permission, angel. You wanna be a slut? I’ll treat you like a fucking slut,” he snarls, rugged palms coiling around your hips and forcing them into the air, bending your spine so your body transforms into a delicious arch.
Your heart slams against your ribs in apprehension, your mind still too woozy to make a complaint as his cock plunges inside of you. Your walls spread for his length welcomingly, your arousal and your cum lubricating your cunt. Your eyes roll back at the fullness— the stretch of him stuffing your cunt with his thick cock so delectably euphoric. You’re so wet that it doesn’t even hurt as he impales you, pleasure the only feeling coursing through you.
Shouto growls, your pussy hugging his length so snugly he has to take a moment for his head to stop spinning. “Fuuuck,” he utters huskily, sliding out halfway and inspecting how your cunt grips his slippery cock so desperately.
You cry out as he thrusts back in, the angle already perfectly locating your g-spot and making stars flash across your vision. Your body shakes as a palm cracks against your ass, more tears collecting on your lower lashes at the pain that hurts so good.
Shouto grabs the tie around your wrists with the other hand, yanking your body backwards to slap against his hard torso. Hands flying to your hips, he drills into you as he holds you upright against him. Your breasts bounce as your back arches, cunt trembling at the familiar tension building deep inside of you.
“You wanna fuckin’ cum already, don’t you, slut?” Shouto barks, a hand leaving your hip to hold your breast, trapping your nipple between his long fingers. The friction he provides is exquisite, and long, unabashed moans float out of your parted lips.
“Yes! Yes! Please— Make me cum, Shouto!” You howl, your toes curling at the sacred pleasure so close to peaking within you. Lips latched onto the claim he had laid on your neck, his teeth pinch your skin. His ragged grunts in your ear make your core clench around him, about to reach salvation for the second time.
“Do it, Y/N. I want my slutty angel pussy to cum all over this cock,” he commands, forcing your hips to crash down onto his so his tip jabs your g-spot harshly.
Your body collapses at his approval, cunt squeezing and fluttering and leaking onto him as you release a lewd scream. White hot bliss shoots through you as sinful tides of delirium pull you under. Your body trembles as the ecstasy pulses in your veins, your jaw unhinged and your eyes rolled into your skull.
Shouto pushes you forward so your torso falls flat against the mattress limply. His hips do not stall, continuing to push into your tightened cunt with determination as he drags out your orgasm. “Where’s my nasty little brat now?” He laughs crudely, slapping your ass gently and grabbing the reddened flesh, pulling your hips back against his. “Nothing to say, hmm?”
As if your brain is functional enough to form words. Your limbs feel like jello, wiggling with pleasure and shock as he advances his plight. Your throat is dry from all the panting, your ass sore underneath Shouto’s oppressive grip. But it feels so fucking good, you can’t bring yourself to tell him to stop.
Shouto sucks a breath in between his grinding teeth, watching how your ass bounces against his pelvis as his cock slides into your depths. Sweat dripping down his chest and along your back, his hold on you is tight enough to cut off circulation. His lip twitches as he recognizes his orgasm creeping up inside, and he groans as he pulls out of you abruptly.
You whine at the loss, but you’re silenced immediately as he flips your body and presses his lips to yours. His kiss is pleasantly soft, a harsh contrast to his rough hands which slide around your back and fumble with the tie around your wrists. His tongue pushes inside your mouth, searching for yours and caressing it at first touch. Once the silky material slips off you, his hands rove over your breasts, massaging the heavy flesh tenderly as his cock brushes along your slit. A string of saliva stretches between you as his lips leave yours, a hot, breathy sigh fanning over your face. “This beautiful body is all mine, Y/N,” he whispers, tip slipping between your folds and entering your cunt with ease.
Your eyelids flutter shut at the feeling of your aching hole being filled once again, but the pain makes the pleasure so much more enjoyable. His lips wander along your neck as he begins to thrust into you, your legs wrapping around his waist. He kisses along your clavicle and down your breast, tongue washing over your nipple as his cock brushes along your velvet walls so perfectly.
The friction has your eyes nearly crossed, and the pleasure only intensifies when Shouto guides your legs to rest against his chest, your ankles by his ears. The angle allows greater access, his thick member reaching new depths that elicit a sharp gasp from you. His left hand pushes your abdomen down slightly, his thumb travelling south to flick along your clit lazily.
“Shit, Shouto, I— s-so sensitive,” you whimper, your hand timidly reaching out to rest on his flexing abdominal muscles. The sensation of him dragging against your g-spot so sensually causes your bottom lip to tremble, a tear sneaking down your cheek to land in your hair.
Shouto’s large hand guides yours to land on your thigh, and he tucks his arm so his own hand covers yours as he pulls your thighs closer to him. “One more, baby,” he moans, the thumb on your clit speeding up.
The extra attention summons that familiar build up in your core, a long whine falling from your lips. “I can’t, I can’t,” you mewl but your body says otherwise, pussy tightening slightly as your ankles cross behind his neck.
“I thought you wanted to cum, angel?” He uses your words against you as he sighs, hips picking up to ram into yours. He holds his breath as you clamp down on him, your sinful expression fueling his impending orgasm. “You gonna make me finish on my own?”
The thought of him blowing his load into you has you biting your lip, your hips shuffling against his. Shouto moans, thumb circling your puffy nerve even faster as he continues to pound into you. The sound of your skin slapping together fills the room, the only noise to interrupt that your huffs and moans.
Steam billows from Shouto’s nose as his eyes nearly close, his abs flexing out of his torso as he fights to keep his orgasm at bay. His heavy breath and visible restraint convince your body to give in, and you weep as you sink into euphoria for the third time tonight. Shouto’s right there with you, a strangled growl mixed with a moan ripping from his lungs as his seed spurts into you, his cock twitching and balls draining as he falls to his elbows above you.
Your body feels sluggish as your limbs tremble slightly, the high from your orgasm still clouding your brain as your arms wrap around Shouto’s shoulders. His cold breath refreshes the moist, flushed skin on your neck, long eyelashes tickling your jaw as your nails scrape carefully down his spine.
When he pulls out your body feels incomplete, but Shouto nuzzles into your jaw affectionately, his hands sliding between the damp sheets and your skin to hold you close. He scatters sluggish, persistent kisses along your throat and up your jaw. And when he moves to your face, they only become longer and more intimate, gently guiding you back to reality.
You sigh in content as you lean in to capture his lips, moving sweet and slow against each other. Your digits amble into his hair, combing back the soft tresses so you can see more of his charming face. He moans at your touch, pleased by the soothing sensation of your fingers feathering along his scalp. His own hand follows your lead, fingers steering a stray hair off your forehead and gliding into your tresses to hold your head in his palm.
The pair of you continue to kiss for who knows how long, touching each other tenderly and savoring the feeling of skin against skin. Your lips melding into one, cradling one another fragilely as if you mutually fear the other will break without your embrace. You could spend eternity like this, high off his ambrosial, tender care.
You are the one to pull away first, knowing Shouto would keep this going until morning if he didn’t think you’d come back down from your high. Not that you would mind that, but you should probably clean up the mess that your passionate session had created— his release beginning to trickle out of you onto the sheets. As he pulls back, the emotions swirling in his striking two-toned gaze shock you. His brow is slightly creased as he nibbles at the corner of his lip, eyes darting around your face.
“I’ll be right back,” he murmurs, sitting up and scooting off the mattress, disappearing around the corner of the bathroom door. The sound of water splashing in the sink fills the silence as you sit still, closing your eyes as the cogs in your brain begin to turn.
Oh god, you’d been so shameless tonight— you’d taunted him and he had made you fall apart and beg in return, bending to his every command. Sure, he had always been the dominant one in your rendezvous before, but tonight was different. He had been jealous, when he had no right to be. But is that why your heart is beating so quickly in your chest? Suddenly you’re anxious, overthinking as usual. This is just sex, right?
But then, why did you leave Shinsou’s side so quickly at the bar when Shouto had been the one to cancel on you? And then there was that, too— why had he just ditched his friends in the middle of boys’ night when it was the reason he cancelled on you in the first place? And he had clearly been furious at the thought of you spending the night with another man. Was it because he knew Shinsou? Or was it because he wanted to be exclusive with you?
Well, if he wanted to be exclusive friends with benefits, isn’t that the same thing as dating? Would he ever date someone like you? Wait, would you even be willing to date him? Do you want him to be your… boyfriend? Your eyes widen and a pink girlish blush emerges on your cheeks at the label. What are you, eight years old? Why do you feel so giddy at the possibility of him wanting you, for more than your body?
Shouto strolls out of the bathroom just in time to catch that embarrassing look on your face, but he only smiles sincerely at you and it makes you blush even harder. What the hell? You’re extra submissive for one night and now you’re thinking about your feelings for him? Wait, did you just admit you have feelings for him?
He clambers over to you in the middle of the bed, a washcloth draped on his slender finger. He leans down and pecks you like it’s no big deal, humming as his lips linger on yours just long enough to make you want more. Your body jumps at the feeling of the damp warmth the towel provides, but you relax as the feeling soothes your aching core.
“Was that okay? How do you feel, baby?” Shouto asks softly, watchful eyes gauging your expression as you look at him. “You seemed like you were enjoying yourself, but, I wasn’t too rough, was I?”
You let out a breathless, mirthful chuckle at his concern, reaching out to put your hand on his strong arm. “No, I’m fine. And it was… great. Mind-blowing, actually,” you smile at him bashfully, hoping it was just as good for him.
Shouto’s eyes twinkle as he smiles back, nodding slowly. “It was, wasn’t it?” He helps you sit up, maneuvering you carefully off the bed and gesturing for you to use the bathroom.
After relieving yourself, you look at yourself in the mirror that hangs above the sink, vision falling on the massive bruise blossoming on your neck. You sigh when you inspect the purple mark, but when your gaze floats back to your face, you’re dumbstruck to find yourself grinning like a fool. Terror and thrill floods through you at the realization that if any other guy had left a mark this nasty on you, you’d be furious. And yet, having Shouto’s claim on you makes you feel like the luckiest girl on the planet.
Shit. Looks like you do want him to be your boyfriend.
You’re half expecting the reflection to show a stupid cartoon character with the way that your heart feels like it’s thumping out of your chest. Taking in a deep breath, you determinedly point at yourself in the mirror and breath out shakily, “You can do this.”
Exiting the bathroom, you return to find Shouto leaning against the headboard, the sheets pulled up to his waist and his fingers rubbing together awkwardly. His eyes on his lap, he almost looks anxious. But he notices your presence right away, peeling back the corner of the blanket and beckoning you to slide in.
Placing yourself stiffly on the side of the bed, you take in his confused expression. “I need to tell you something,” you say as steadily as possible. Man, that’s a scary sentence, even if you’re not on the receiving end.
Shouto’s lips part and he looks like he wants to say something, but he swallows whatever it was down and nods, his expression guarded. “I’m all ears,” he replies, placing his hand on the pillow in front of you.
With the spotlight on you, your throat feels dry as dirt, and you nervously shuffle, suddenly very conscious of your nakedness. “Um,” falls out of your mouth, anything to split the suffocating silence. Your palms are clammy, and your fingers delve into the folds of the sheets to hide your nerves. “I know this is gonna sound kind of lame, but… well, I um…” Shouto’s gaze is burning your face, your cheeks redder than ever as you will this humiliation to just end already. Sucking in another breath, the words blurt out of you. “I have feelings for you.”  
The surprise on his features is unmistakable. All you can do is stare at him, frozen in uncertainty but strangely enough it feels like a weight has been lifted off your chest. A heavy one at that— one whose existence you refused to acknowledge until ten minutes ago.
“R-Really?” Shouto stutters, looking like he’s just seen a ghost with how wide his eyes are.
You aren’t sure how to take that response, but as soon as your gaze falls from his, his hand shoots out to latch onto your wrist. When you look back at him, a different emotion is painted over his face, one of… hope?
“I have feelings for you, too, Y/N,” he whispers, his own blush dusting over his cheeks. His eyes are soulful and hold nothing but candor and content.
Before you can process his words, his hands are rounding your waist and pulling your body toward his. A different kind of high bursts through you as his lips touch yours, joy storming through the both of you and warm, tingly static crackling between you. These kisses feel different— your heart feels like it’s about to pop, swelling with excitement and relief. Shouto begins to laugh against your lips, and the alluring sound infects you, too, as you join him with a giggle. The both of you are laughing at nothing in particular, but you don’t need a reason to let the noises of elation loose.
Once your laughter ceases, Shouto collects your chin in his hand and places a gentle kiss upon your grinning lips. When he pulls back, his eyes contain a wisp of that jealous fire that had consumed him only hours earlier, and he shoots you a mischievous smirk as he squeezes your ass playfully. “Do you think Shinsou could ever make you feel this good, angel?”
You roll your eyes, chuckling in exasperation at this man’s relentless, absurd envy. “Hmm,” you pretend to think for a moment before you lean closer to him, hands hung loosely around the back of his neck. “Shinsou? Never heard of him.”
  ─── ・°* ゚✧:* • 。゚:*・☽・*: 。゚•*:✧ ゚*°・ ───
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you reached the end!! thanks for reading this long ass fic lmao, i know it was an investment. I hope the ending was not too cringe, I usually just end my fics after the nut but I wanted to try something new :’)  be sure to lmk if you enjoyed <3
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𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.
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klvbxlove · 3 years ago
Text
child (iida x gn! reader)
a/n: i know it’s only been like a month or so since my last iida x reader drabble, but it’s definitely felt like a long time! it was honestly ‘cause i got a bit caught up with writing persona 4 fanfics ever since i started watching the anime with my cousins when i visited them last month LOL. i also was struggling with what to write for an iida drabble, but this idea came up and i figured, “why not?”. although i have to admit, this one does feel a bit short, despite it being a little bit over 1,000 words 🙁 but anyways, i hope y’all will still like it! :)
Tumblr media
reader type: gender neutral
reader specification(s): none
genre(s): fluff
trigger warning(s): none
summary: after iida came back home from a hero mission, you weren’t expecting for him to turn into a child the next morning.
word count: 1.3k words
♡ ♡ ♡ (ꈍᴗꈍ)ε`*) ♡ ♡ ♡
key:
(y/n) = your name
♡ ♡ ♡ (ꈍᴗꈍ)ε`*) ♡ ♡ ♡
   You were aware that Iida had been hit by a villain quirk today. However, when he came back home from his hero mission that same night, nothing seemed to be different about him. And while you were glad he had no injuries, there was still worry lingering inside of you. That was when you assumed that the effect would settle in tomorrow (and that you were scared of).
   So when you were slowly brought out of your sleep by an unfamiliar voice, you were a little bit confused. Did someone somehow enter your apartment? Because you were sure that you kept all the doors and windows locked before you and Iida went to sleep. 
   Instead of fully opening your eyes, you closed them back. You figured this must have been some weird dream. In the meantime, maybe you could move closer to Iida and cuddle him. After all, he had a rough day yesterday, so this might as well cheer him up--
   “(Y/N), sweetheart. Wake up!” 
   Okay, there goes that unfamiliar voice again (and why did they call you sweetheart? As far as you were concerned, so far, Iida was the only one who called you that). With the confusion fully settling in, you did not feel like going back to sleep because you knew something was going on. It was not fear that was settling in. It was more of a suspicion. 
   Letting out a yawn, you rubbed your eyes before sitting up from your bed. “What? Who’s that?” 
   The person behind the voice huffed. “I thought you would have recognized me somewhat, but it’s me!” 
   Seconds passed as the weight on your eyelids was beginning to fade. And now that you thought about it, the voice was starting to sound familiar. You guessed that you did not recognize it since you were not fully awake. But when your eyes fully opened, you were not expecting Iida to not be there beside you. 
   Instead, you came across a small child wearing his pajamas (and they were too big on him). 
   At first, you tilted your head in confusion. First off, who was this child, and what were they doing in your apartment? And second off, where was your husband, Iida? 
   Your eyes squinted at the child as you looked at them in slight suspicion. Meanwhile, they stared back at you. There was also something about them that looked familiar, too (not just their voice). They have even got his hairstyle, his eyes, and his overall appearance. Almost as if it was the child version of Iida--
   Wait a minute.
   Your eyes widened. 
   Wait a damn minute.
   “T-Tenya?! Wait, is that you?!” You spoke after seconds (what felt like minutes) of being in shock. Part of you believed that this was part of the dream. 
   The young boy nodded and scratched the back of his head. “Y-Yes, it’s me,” he said bashfully, “As a child, that is...” 
   WHAT?!
   You put a hand on your mouth.
   Oh, you have got to be kidding me.
   More seconds passed. But eventually, you had accepted that this was reality. Although, there were so many things going on in your head right now. Your husband had mysteriously turned into a child; it must have happened last night when the both of you were sleeping. 
   You never thought a situation like this would have happened. You were not necessarily bothered by it, as Iida was still alright. Like you knew yesterday, there was no need to treat his wounds or take him to a hospital. Although, you had to wonder. 
   “How did this happen? I swear, I heard nothing last night, and you were already fast asleep.”
   Iida placed a finger on his chin as he looked to be in deep thought. “This must have been the side effect of the villain that struck me with their quirk yesterday,” he inquired. “I could only assume that it took only a few hours for it to settle in, as it occurred between the time that I fell asleep and the time that I woke up. Although it is a bit strange that the villain only did this much to my body,” 
   Right. You almost forgot about that. “I mean, at least the villain didn’t technically hurt you, right?” you tilted your head. 
   He nodded. “Yes, I suppose you are right about that, (Y/N). It is a bit unfortunate that this happened. I have no clue how long I will be in this form before I go back to my normal self!” 
   Iida had a point. You knew that. For all you knew, he would have stayed as a child for a month! However, as this was a situation in which you would begin to panic, there was no single ounce of worry inside you. You began to stare at Iida, and it suddenly felt like your heartbeat was increasing. 
   Memories were washing over you about the one time you were visiting his family, and his mom was showing you childhood photos of your husband. Ignoring the pleas from Iida, your eyes began to remember seeing the young child in those photos. Oh, how your heart could not take it! He was just too cute to handle! With those bright blue eyes, the big small on his face, how tiny he looked. You swore you were about to cry from the cuteness. 
   And the fact that you were seeing child Iida right in front of you instead of just in photos?
   Your instincts came up to you, and that was when you suddenly grabbed Iida onto your lap and hugged him close. He let out a sound of surprise. “(Y/N)?! W-What are you doing?!” he cried. 
   “God, you are just too cute, Tenya!” you squealed, rubbing his back as though he needed comfort, “I’m sorry, but let me just hug you for a bit, please.”
   “Cute? Darling, I can assure you that I’m not cute! I have no idea where you’re getting this from,”
   “Oh, yes, you are! Stop hiding it.” You almost had to bite the inside of your cheeks so you would not burst out laughing. Even as a child, Iida still spoke eloquently, as you had always remembered. As much as this was a bit funny to you, you also found it twice as adorable. 
   “You know, this might sound bad, but I’m somewhat glad that the villain who hit you with his quirk ended up turning you into a child. You’re ten times cuter than before.”
   “(Y/N)!” Iida cried out as he pouted, “You cannot go saying stuff like that! And especially saying that you are happy that a villain used their quirk on me! What if it was something much more serious than this--”
   “I know, I know. But still, I could get used to holding you like a child!” you grinned. 
   Iida sighed. There was no point in trying to argue with you. He could only think back to the time when his mom was showing you his baby photos (much to his dismay), and you were practically fangirling. Iida was almost starting to wish the mission he went on yesterday did not happen in the first place. So ultimately, he might as well let you hug him for the time being. 
   And it was not like Iida did not enjoy the affection, either. No, he loved it very much! Iida even decided to wrap his arms around you and bury his face into your chest. Although, he swore he heard another squeal come out of you. 
   After moments went by, you released Iida from your grip, and you looked at him. “Well, how about I make you some breakfast now? I bet you’re a bit hungry,”
   As if in sync, Iida felt a grumble coming out of his stomach. You let out a soft chuckle watching him blush in slight embarrassment, and you gently picked him up into your arms. “I guess you are. Alright, let’s go!” 
   To which Iida smiled softly at that.  
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