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bunicate · 7 months

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i neeeeedddd more wrio <///3 i don’t wanna wait so so long for him to come out <///3 and i wanna read more filthy filthy smuts and suuuper long angsty smutty fics :((( i need him in a way that would get me lobotomized in the 1900’s </3

dnt u hate how genshin is just stringing us along and taking 4ever to give us more wrio stuff ! ! I want him in a very gross way nd I dunno if this little fic is at all filthy, but i wrote smthn while I was having my breakfast earlier ^_^ I also probably misspelled his name so many times bc my grammar check wasn’t working nd i got lazy ! but just know nonnie, ur icky thoughts are welcomed here !

pairing ꒱ྀི wriothesley x fem reader — warnings ꒱ he calls you little girl once ! ! + slight exhibitionism + finger sucking + size kink + blowjob mention / wc ꒱ 1.3k / 18+

you’d like to say that you were good at being discreet. it’s not that you’re intentionally trying to be, but when faced with several trials and tribulations, you believed the gods themselves were testing you.

after all this time, you thought you were inured to wriothesley’s effortless charm. it bothers you that he doesn’t even try— that your boyfriend with broad shoulders, a big chest, and big hands could stand there, and you were already thinking of all the sloppy, messy ways you could end your night.

you spend far too much time staring at veiny thick fingers that dwarf your tinier ones. especially when he holds your pink phone, hello kitty, and heart-shaped charms and all, and his big thumbs end up pressing a button he never meant to. how such a simple and mindless mistake makes you wonder about putting his big fingers somewhere else.

It was a newfound desperation you didn’t know you had in you and it just didn’t stop there. it’s the casual dominance in his behavior that makes butterflies erupt, fluttering their delicate wings in your belly.

when the brown sugar you needed to make a fresh batch of cookies rested on the tippiest top of the shelf you were irked to say the least.

it sat there mocking you because it knows you can’t reach it, and it’s none other than wrio himself who barely extends his hand above his head that brings it down with ease.

and then you see it.

it’s only a slither of skin, only a thick patch of untamed hair leading to his groin.

that’s all it is and that’s all you saw and yet you feel . . . bothered

“i didn’t need your help,” you mutter while pouring the contents into a pink porcelain bowl, careful not to make a mess.

you got snappy because of all things, it’s his height and taut stomach that make you flustered. you cut your eyes and upturn your nose busying yourself with the mixing and measuring, but wriothesley is no fool. your attempt to appear unfazed — not aroused was meaningless. he didn’t bother to question the veracity of you words when the soft cotton flush of embarrassment coats your cheeks like a paintbrush and he was the painter.

he excites you.

you know it and he knows it.

“sure you don’t.”

he’s smug and you don’t like it. you hate it, even. why is he always quick and sharp-tongued, and so astute?

it was one of your earlier dates together. things were still new and you wanted to make a bit more effort and maybe you went slightly overboard. you cursed yourself for wearing heels that day. they were a tad bit too high— but they were pink, and glittery, and a butterfly charm dangled by the strap of your ankle.

you couldn’t not wear them, your outfit depended on them. they just had the unfortunate luck of succumbing to the little pebble that laid in the middle of the sidewalk.

before you could even register your heart-dropping, warm, big, bulging arms enclose your waist, keeping you from colliding with the ground. when you instinctively reach out to grip them you felt the muscle beneath your fingers. you were sure your silk panties were ruined .

and to your dismay, the twitch of your legs trying to smother that burning heat between your thighs didn’t go unnoticed.

so observant wriothesley is, and you hate how easily he could read you, but the desire was mutual.

he constantly had to fight every signal in his body that yearned for you — that yearned to separate those plump thighs and perfectly ruin, and stretch that seeping little hole with his fingers. the thought plagues his mind the entire time.

you both go out for another outing and it was just meant to be an innocent dinner, but god — would you stop looking at him like that?

just stop pouting, stop doing that little furrow with your eyebrows, and stop putting on that sparkly lipgloss.

it’s moments like this where he’s thankful for his status. he’s quiet, and big enough to deter people from peering over his shoulder. a booth far away enough in a corner, makes it easier for the duke to get away with acting out in public— stuffing your mouth with his fingers.

even when sitting he towers over you. the dip of your clavicle kisses by the ends of your hair. so put together even in the process of ruin.

two of his wriothesley’s daft and ring-clad fingers stroke your tongue, spit coating the appendages. he could’ve busied them separating your puffy lower lips, but why would he when he can make you gag instead?

soft moans escape in the form of gurgled cries, you suck his fingers like a lollipop that was just too big for your tiny mouth. he’s rubs the insides of the orifice as if it were your pussy, with expert strokes that send your eyes reeling backward.

you pucker around them, lips tight, and you just croon like a good puppy.

“you like it when I stretch your little mouth? yeah, you do.” as if the arch in your back and the clench of your legs weren’t enough it would be your eyes blinking up at him submissively.

“you can open up a little wider— just like that, baby.”

and he’s knuckle deep by now and maybe he should stop, and not encourage you to be so obscene but he wasn’t thinking straight. it’s been a long enough week, [its tuesday ] but wriothesley works hard and some trouble once in a while can’t be that bad. neuvillette shouldn’t mind. he’s sure if he could see you now he’d be at your mercy. drooling around his rings, tits pushed up and makeup smeared— could anyone actually resist you?

“that’s my good girl, perfect little throat.” and he can’t wait to fuck it. If your mouth looked so delicate stretched around his burly fingers, what would it look like around his much bigger cock. that excites him — to think about the tip of his length poking the side of your cheek and thickening in the expanse of your throat. to be gifted with your drunken expression because he’s just too big and your brain can’t compute.

“you can pretend it doesn’t bother you, but I know you like when it when I get rough with little girls like you,” he drawls, in a deep and husky tone, low enough to fall on your ears alone.

there’s a fire that it ignites within and he controls the flame. you want to tell him no, to defy him, but it would be so unconvincing. you’re nearly falling apart, bursting at the seams with wanton hunger and thirst and it’s written all over your face.

it gives wriothesley a rush the more he fixates on your mouth. he talks big, knowing you're teetering on the edge of a mind break. he whispers how filthy you are for letting him fuck your mouth with his fingers. he teases you breathlessly that spit looks better on your lips then the lipgloss and that you can’t seem to stop re-applying.

things were fairly new, only soft gropes, intense kisses, and humping between leather and lacy frills were exchanged . this was the most erotic he’s seen you as of yet and its the closest you both have ever been. it made him eager for so much more.

“ you like how big I am thats why you’re letting me stuff your mouth."

and he dreams bout filling it some more— to the brink with his milky white, breeding your throat like it was your cunt until rivulets spill from the sides. Its right then and there that he wishes for no one else to be in the room so he can finally have you . he’s broken you down, and all you can do is listen.

"when i take you home, you'll be a sweet girl for me, right? no back talk and no more attitude ?”

you nod and even with a mouthful, you obediently open to speak.

“y-yes sir.”

such dangerous words.

#૮꒰ ๑´ତ `๑ ꒱ྀིა #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x y/n #wriothesley x reader smut #genshin impact smut #wriothesley x you #wriothesley smut

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50shadesofrossi · 2 years

Text

Want Me

Ser Harwin Strong x Female Reader

Summary: You're Rhaenyra's lady in waiting, by her side at all times and thus leading you to spend many hours within Ser Harwin's company, drawing the two of you together

Warnings: Smut, mentioned violence, swearing, angst (if you squint), fluff

A/N: Hi, small warning, haven't written a full smut scene for a while so I'm a little rusty, but I hope you enjoy :)

"Want me to kill him?" You absentmindedly offer to Princess Rhaenyra.

She chuckles from behind you, her fellow ladies attempting to hide their smirks and smiles whilst they finish up her hair. "I know how much you crave violence, but I can not allow you to kill him. Besides, how would you even do it?"

You pause in the mirror, your eyes flickering to find Rhaenyra's. "Seduction is a woman's greatest strength." You whirl around to face her, a cruel expression etching into your face at the thought. "A simple poison into his drink and during the night he'd cease breathing and the Maestor would declare a heart attack. An easy kill, if I say so myself,"

The princess raises her eyebrows, her lips pursing together. Tonight is her name day feast, celebrating another year of her youth and thus drawing in all the potential suitors wishing to offer themselves. One of the Lannister twins made a fool of himself, offending Rhaenyra and thus resulting in you plotting his death, should your princess command it.

As her lady in waiting, you take your role very seriously. Though, you are oft referred to as her sister, the two of you becoming close at a young age and growing up together. It has solidified your relationship with her, and in turn, you know each other inside and out.

Your sharp words and cunning nature are a breath of fresh air as opposed to the customary expectations of Rhaenyra's fellow ladies.

You glance over yourself once more in the mirror, your attention spanning over the finer details of your gown and the excellent work of the seamstress. The dress accentuates your frame, the embroidery and accessories dating back to your House and heritage.

You look like a woman, a woman grown and of power.

"Are you ready?" Rhaenyra pulls you from yourself, twirling around to give you a full look at her.

"Indeed, and must I say my Princess, you look divine." You tell her honestly.

She smiles, the two of you making your way to the great hall. Heads turn at the sight of you both, the heir to seven kingdoms and her fierce lady, who would protect her more so than a knight.

Your stomach begins to twist as you near the hall, your teeth grinding together to keep the nerves at bay. You feel a reassuring squeeze on your hand, your dear friend sensing your change in behaviour.

"If he doesn't fall at your feet and beg for your hand, I'll feed him to Syrax myself," she whispers.

You bite your tongue, though a small smile creeps out. In the past moons, you've become acquainted with a knight, the two of you sharing passions and dreams. Nothing more of talk has happened thus far, but you can't help but think that maybe he will ask for your hand in marriage, as the two of you spend most days side by side.

He makes your heart beat rapidly, with the small gestures and whispered words when no one is close. Not to mention, the way he looks at you, like no one else exists but you.

Yet, you can't help but think that you're in way over your head, too consumed to see the reality.

You have no time to ponder Rhaenyra's words, as the two of you arrive at the hall, the chatter dying down instantly. Swallowing, you hold your head high, following Rhaenyra down the stairs and toward the high table where you veer off to your own.

His eyes were on you the moment you appeared, refusing to leave even as you sit down. You look absolutely breathtaking.

Of course, you avoid his gaze, even from across the room, as you begin to fill your plate. Your skin ignites under his heated stare, your desire overweighting your sense of propriety. Glancing up, you meet him, his deep blue eyes burning into your darkest depths and tearing down every wall you've ever built.

Ser Harwin Strong, renowned for his strength throughout the seven kingdoms and his proud house.

Your cheeks heat up under the intensity, neither of you daring to break contact. You admire how he's dressed, his fine threaded clothes making him look regal, his unruly curls neatly pulled back into a bun. Gods.

The grumble of your stomach brings you to your senses, your head bowing down to begin consuming your food. You feel him continue for a heartbeat longer, before he diverts his attention elsewhere.

As the night begins to progress, you drag Rhaenyra to dance, moving with the music and enjoying yourself. You change partners throughout, making yourself known and extending yourself to the other lords and ladies currently attending for the princess's name day.

For once, Harwin doesn't grace your thoughts, until he becomes your next partner.

Your eyes widen for a moment, your breath catching. "Ser-" you start, not expecting to see him.

"My lady, you look exquisite." His rasps, his body feathering your own.

His heat wraps around you like wild vines, pulling and tugging you closer, enticing you to become lost. You hit your chin out, refusing to fall prey.

"And you, good Ser,"

Harwin smiles, a hum of satisfaction rumbling within his chest. His hand brushes your own, a part of him needing to touch you, his resolve almost snapping from the softness of your flesh. His fingers itch to press firmly, to warn off any man or lord that dare think they have a chance with you.

"Are you enjoying yourself, this evening?" He asks, his lips close to your ear as to make sure you hear him over the loud music.

You turn your head, his breath fanning your cheek. Heat pools within your stomach, want gnawing at you and demanding to be free. "I'll enjoy myself once I've had my dessert," you dare.

His eyes narrow, assessing the situation. Little minx. Before he can conjure his own smart remark, a fellow knight of the city watch approaches, pulling him away from you. You watch him go without a word, a sense of humiliation washing over you as you continue to dance alone, searching for Rhaenyra.

You find her with her uncle, enjoying themselves.

Biting your lip, you move off the dance floor, standing on the sideline. You feel deflated, watching your friends enjoy themselves and even sneak out of the hall with their suitors, and your heart's deepest love couldn't even excuse himself. He just left you.

You see him, surrounded by his companions, and more so with an older woman hanging off him. Now you feel stupid, your usual confidence and ego a ghost. The woman wraps an arm around his waist, much like a partner, and him not moving.

Of fucking course, I'm just the plaything to keep him entertained whilst his lover is elsewhere.

Grinding your jaw in anger, you inhale deeply and begin to make your way through the crowd, ignoring Harwin and his group as you have to pass them to ascend the stairs out of the hall. Your hasty exit catches many people's attention, especially the one you were hoping wouldn't notice.

You don't realise he follows you, until you almost reach your quarters. His boots hit the ground harshly, as he tries to catch you, going as far as calling out your name. You pause in front of your doors, whirling around to face him once he draws near.

Fire dances within your eyes, making Harwin pause momentarily. "Ser Harwin?" You snap.

"I wanted to make sure you're well, you left in such a hurry,"

"I'm fine," you start, your thumb running over your fingers anxiously. "The hall became too much, so I'm retiring for the evening."

Harwin tilts his head. He calls bullshit. He knows you, he grew up alongside you and knows that you are one of the last to leave the party, oft enjoying yourself too much to notice the sunrise and thus requiring an escort, usually him.

He reads your body language, depicting your sudden mood change has something to do with him. He chuckles lightly, amusement etching across his features at your frustrated glare. "You're jealous."

"Jealous?!" You repeat in disbelief, your raised voice echoing the corridor. "Me? Of what?" You ask him incredulously. You naturally begin to step closer, "of that woman? Why would I be jealous of some wench when I am the Princesses lady in waiting, I can have almost any suitor I want, I have sway within these walls and no one quite realises the extent I'll go to if I'm pushed, not to mention," you stop just shy of him, your chest heaving. "One word to my Princess, and I can have whatever I want."

Harwin peers down at you, a small smirk gracing his lips at your outburst. "I never said what you were jealous of," he says lowly, almost inaudible if not for your closeness. "I'll be sure to tell my sister you think she's a wench."

Your world crashes and burns. Sister? That was his fucking sister?! Your heart ceases beating, your breath catches in your throat and your skin clams up. Realisation and dread wash over you, embarrassment etching into your cheeks. You become a wounded animal, and respond much as they do,

"Fuck you." You don't know what compels you or who takes over your body, but you can't stop the words from tumbling out and sending them straight at Harwin.

He blinks.

Quickly you spin on your heel and make haste to your door, pulling the handle to only have it slammed shut, and a large body pressing against you. Your throat constricts, feeling Harwin's entire front against your back as his hand looms over your head, keeping the door closed.

One small movement, and he could bury his nose into your hair. "Say that again," his chest rumbles, his mouth angling down to press on your ear. To make sure you hear him loud and clear.

You're frozen, your body shutting down. You open your mouth but nothing comes out. "Go on, don't go shy on me now, my lady," he presses, pushing you.

Licking your lips, you hesitantly shift on the spot, leaning your back against the door and tilting your head to hold Harwin's gaze. He pins you down, the entirety of his body caging you in, almost like a shield protecting you from peering eyes.

"Fuck you," you whisper.

Reflexively, his other hand snaps to your jaw, his fingers digging into the skin. Your lips part, your muscles relax and your body becoming a rag doll. He could very easily suffocate you like he was bunching up a piece of parchment, he wouldn't even feel your bones snap. Yet, in this very moment, your thighs press together, your garment becoming soaked with each passing second.

You know he won't hurt you. His hold on you is firm and delicate, the pads of his fingers gently holding you in place. He tilts his head, assessing you like he would an opponent, his dark eyes roaming your face and his brows twitching in thought.

You test the waters, standing straighter and in turn bumping your nose into his cheek. Harwin exhales shakily, his grip tightening if only a smidge, in comparison to his self-restraint. You nudge your nose against his, his hooded eyes following your every move.

Your breath tangles with his own, desire and hunger transpiring. Harwin's jaw clenches, his palm against the door closing into a fist. You want him, he wants you. Swallowing thickly, your lashes feather your cheeks and you take the plunge, pressing your lips against his own with uncertainty.

For a moment, you float, your body becoming weightless and your mind lost. His lips are softer than you imagined, despite his harsh reputation, soft and plump on your own. Harwin responds, before suddenly pulling you away by his grip still on your jaw.

A bucket of cold water drenches you, his sudden cold demeanour creating a crack in your heart. Not so much that he pulled you away, more how forcible it was, after he began to lose himself under the taste of you. That hurts.

Your eyes flash. You move to release yourself from his grip, but he tightens it, his head turning slightly as though to check for any movement within the corridor. With precision, he pulls you flush to his body and opens the door in one movement, shoving you inside to your quarters and locking the door behind him.

"You naïve girl," he starts, running a hand over his beard.

You scoff, creating distance between the two of you by standing at the window sill. "And they say romance is dead."

Harwin narrows at you. "You have no idea what you've just done, what if someone had seen?" His voice raises, his hand gesturing to the doors.

Confusion swirls within you at his sudden change of behaviour, at his switch from intimacy to frustration in an upsetting kind of way. "I don't see the problem," you cross your arms, raising a brow. "I want you, and I don't give a fuck what anyone else thinks."

"Well, you should!" You're taken aback by his sudden outburst, a sliver of fear creeping up your spine. "I am not good for you," he says your name with such emotion. "I have enemies at every turn, I can't be at your side protecting you every day and not to mention what would happen to your reputation-"

"My reputation?" You cut him off, your voice low in disbelief of what you're hearing. "You think I give a fuck about my reputation! About your enemies? Gods Harwin," you begin to pace, your hands running over your head and falling against your neck. "How fucking dense are you?"

He attempts to ignore the hiccup in his heart rate at the way his name rolls off your tongue. "I'm more than capable of protecting myself," you start after calming down a notch. You cross the room, standing before the brute and taking his large hands in your own. "Is it that hard to believe that I want you? That I don't care about everything else, about your history and reputation, about the fucking court gossip and your enemies? All I care about is you, your health and well-being, and that I know you'd never hurt me, physically and emotionally. I know you'd die protecting me, and you'd make me feel so loved, despite that shield you put in front of yourself every day."

Harwin brings your hands to his lips, brushing them over your delicate fingers whilst he closes his eyes, relishing in the moment. His coarse beard caresses your skin, planting the idea of how it would feel between your thighs.

He opens his mouth to speak, but you drop your hands down, beating him to it. "You want me Harwin?" your voice pulls to him, lulling him in. "I am right here, otherwise there's the door," you gesture.

Your chest clenches at the thought of him turning his back. You wonder how he could kiss you back, then cough up some bullshit about him being bad for you. It confuses and wounds you.

His lips part, the cogs turning in his head as he makes his decision. He surges forward, gently taking your head in his hands and angling you upward to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

He walks you back until you hit the pillar, careful not to slam you into it. His lips move against yours hungrily, his tongue begging for entrance and his breath meddling with your own. Your fingers curl onto the front of his jacket, squeezing out any air left between you, your fronts pressing tightly.

Your lungs burn, your actions becoming erratic as you move up to his hair, tangling his curls and removing the band keeping it back. You pull at the roots, emitting a deep groan from Harwin, his own hands gliding down your body to find refuge on your waist.

You pour all your emotions into the kiss; the hunger, lusting, anger and need. He dominates you, his mouth slowly moving down your jaw, his teeth nipping along your bone and travelling to your neck, unknowingly finding your sweet spot.

You bite your lip at the sound you release, a small sense of embarrassment flooding your body. Harwin immediately comes up, holding you still with his hard stare. "Don't you dare quieten on me."

"Like your girls loud, Ser Harwin?"

He chooses to ignore your comment. You smirk, your usual demeanour washing into the shore, a calculating look flashing in your eye. Before he can do anything you shove him back, pushing him down onto the lounge.

Surprise is evident on his face, his eyes watching you curiously. You crouch between his spread legs, your palms sliding over his thighs in a soothing manner, slowly making your way to his waistband.

You quite like this image; his unruly dark curls free and framing his face, his intense eyes swallowing you whole and his knees bent outward. He looks casual, yet so fucking handsome you have to restrain yourself from fucking him there.

"Don't look at me like that," you scold, tugging on his pants.

"Like what," he grumbles, lifting his hips.

His pants pool at his feet, his hardened cock free from restraints. "Like I don't know what I'm doing." He eyes you suspiciously, waiting for you to shut down his thoughts. "I've been fucked before, if that's what you're wondering."

He hums in dissatisfaction.

"I'll decide if you've been fucked, my lady." You raise a brow at the title.

He opens his mouth to say something more, but only a loud groan escapes, your lips wrapping around his cock. His hips reflexively jut, his hand moving to your head in response to your movements, your tongue flattening along the underside.

Harwin shudders, his chest rising in deep pants under your ministrations and his fingers flexing in an attempt to hold himself back from face fucking you. You work him steadily, glancing up at him through your lashes and feeling a sense of pride roll down your spine at his dishevelled state, his head lolling over the back of the lounge.

"Fuck," he curses, tilting down to hold your gaze.

You move a hand to work the rest of his cock that you can't fit in his mouth, momentarily pausing when he grabs your wrist, and quickly heaves you off him. "You do that, and this night ends very quickly."

"I find it hard to believe that Breakbones finishes in under twenty seconds," you muse, slipping out his grip easily and situating yourself on his lap.

He groans quietly, both in frustration and need. "Believe me, my lady, that when I cum, I intend on cumming in you and filling you up."

"Good."

You begin undoing his jacket, sliding it off his shoulders and down his arms before moving to his shirt, heaving it up and revealing his toned stomach. Your fingers splay across his chest, feeling his hard-earned muscles and scars from various fights. You pause on a particularly large wound along his abdomen, feathering the pink tissue.

"Don't worry about it," he whispers your name, reading the emotion on your face.

"This is an assassination attempt, Harwin." You press, flickering up to hold his stare. "Someone almost succeeded in fucking killing you." Unwanted tears spring in your eyes, raw emotion thick within your voice.

The thought of Harwin being killed, frightens the fuck out of you.

He cups your cheek, his thumb tenderly wiping a tear. "This is what I meant," he refers to his previous statement about his enemies. You still, your features hardening.

"Don't you dare, Harwin. Don't you fucking dare." You spit.

He stays silent, observing you whilst your fingers continue their path along his torso, grazing each other his scars. "Seven Hells help the next man that makes an attempt on your life," you vow, your hand splaying out over his heart.

"My little warrior," he rasps, pulling you down to him.

Your lips collide, the taste of him invading your mouth and stealing your breath away. You whimper at the feel of his hands sliding up your arms and resting on your collarbone, toying with your dress. Blindingly he reaches for the lace tying it together, pulling it apart and loosening the top section.

Goosebumps rise along your flesh as Harwin gently tugs the dress down your arms, exposing your breasts and stomach once it pools around your hips. You rest your forehead in the crook of his neck, gasping under the ministrations of his hands along your breasts, his thumb tweaking the bud.

You thread through his curls, your nails scraping his scalp and your lips seeking out his neck.

Suddenly he lifts you off him, placing you down on your feet. You raise your eyebrows in surprise and a little confusion, unsure of his next motive. "Take it off," he commands softly, the low rumble in his chest making your heart rate spike.

The dress falls to your feet and you step out of it, mindful of taking off your shoes and being left bare before him. He slowly takes his boots off, never breaking contact even whilst he removes his pants.

You watch him stand, tilting your head as he comes near. He doesn't speak, nor does he kiss you again. Instead, he hooks his hands under your thighs and hoists you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist and your arms coming to the back do his neck.

He walks toward your bed, gingerly laying you down. You stare up at him with adoration, every fibre of your body knowing you're safe with this man. Despite his reputation, you could almost laugh, knowing that there is a softer, more caring side to him than anyone realises.

No one has ever touched you like you're glass, like you could shatter and slip through his fingers. He kisses you with so much passion and care, in stark contrast to his daily goings. You've witnessed him in a brawl, smashing the men to the ground without a worry and pummelling them to an inch of their life.

Yet you know, these hands handle you with love.

You slide up to the head of the bed, brushing the hair from Harwin's face when he comes to hover above you. He descends, missing your face entirely and planting kisses along your neck, slowly travelling south.

Airy breaths leave you, your body responding to his attention, more so as he pauses over your breasts, taking an erect nipple into his mouth and tugging. Fire pools within your stomach, threatening to pour out. In a way it does, your head falling back into the cushions and your lips parting to release sounds of pleasure.

Harwin continues his way down, his eyes flickering up to you through his loose curls, intently watching your reaction as he nears between your thighs, softly blowing cool air on your sensitive region. You grit your teeth, glaring down at him.

"Hurry up."

"As my lady commands," he chuckles.

Your flush at the incredibly loud moan, not exactly expecting him to dive right in. Harwin drags his tongue up your slit, finding your clit and sucking. He switches between flicking your clit with his tongue and sucking, groaning lowly to himself at watching you writhe under him.

He draws more sounds out of you, snaking a hand up to tease your opening, carefully entering a finger. "Fuck!" You arch your back, your hands reaching for his hair.

He slowly pumps it out of you, enjoying the way you feel around him. He can only imagine how tight you'd be around his cock. The thought almost makes him fuck you right here.

Your stomach twists, your knuckles turning white. No man has made you feel like this, even with just his mouth and finger, the two bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

He adds a second finger, wanting to properly prepare you for him, and enjoying watching you lose yourself to the pleasure he's giving you.

He can feel you get close, teetering along the edge as he begins to increase his pace. You whimper at the ache, rutting your hips upward. "Harwin," you whine at the contact of his lips enclosing over your clit and sucking, hard.

The fire burns brighter, scorchingly hot and desperate for a release.

"Let go," he murmurs, gently nipping your clit. You do, your orgasm crashing down like a wave, engulfing you.

He slowly continues to move his fingers through, allowing you to experience your high as he draws it out. He can't help but clean you up before he even thinks about moving away from the safety of your thighs.

With ease, Harwin climbs back up, claiming your lips. You taste yourself, rummaging your hands through his hair and down his back, his muscles rippling under the pads of your fingers.

He pulls away from you, question shining in his eyes; do you still want this?

You nod, leaning up to kiss him again, solidifying your answer. He hums, guiding his cock to press against your slit, teasing you for a moment before he nudges your opening. You gasp on his mouth, your nails digging into his shoulders at every inch.

Harwin falls into the crook of your neck, groaning at the sensation. He stops moving once you've taken all you can, pausing to make sure you're comfortable. You clench around him in reflex, eliciting a deep rumble from his chest, his beard grazing your neck.

"Harwin," you pant. "If you don't move in the next five seconds,"

He chuckles at your warning, slowly pulling back. You bite your lip, closing your eyes at the high pleasure rocking throughout your body. Harwin lifts his head, his forehead brushing your own. He intends to watch you complete shatter underneath him.

He slams home, somewhat slow but hard, rutting into you like wild waves against a rock, your back arching and pressing your chest to his. You can't help but rake your nails down Harwin's back, ignorant to the fact that you're close to drawing blood, desperate for a way to show how easily he's unravelled you.

"Gods Harwin," you cry out at each thrust, harder and deeper than before.

He grins, his lips on your ear, "I know quiet isn't exactly in your nature, but maybe don't alert everyone in the Red Keep of our rendezvous."

"Oh fuck off."

Harwin reaches for the headboard, his knuckles turning white from his harsh grip, using it as leverage to pound harder. You chant his name, subconsciously clenching and unclenching around him, causing him to falter each time.

That burning ache brews within you, gradually growing with each slide into you. His free hand comes down to your clit, playing with the bud and drawing you closer to the edge. Overwhelming sensations spark up your body, your legs starting to shake from the pleasure.

"Harwin," you whine.

"I know," he grits, picking up his pace. He hits parts of you that you never knew existed, fireworks erupting each time he enters you deeper, if that were possible. "Good girl, you're taking me so well, hmm?"

Your head is tilted up by his hand leaving the headboard to cup the side of your face, forcing your eyes on him. You struggle to keep your eyes open, a drowsy, drunken look coming across you.

Without warning, you let go, bursting around him. "Gods, fuck!" Harwin calls your name, following you over. He couldn't last any longer, not after feeling you come undone from him.

You gape in a silent moan, relishing in the feeling of him fill you up, his hips slowing but not yet relenting. You shiver from the sensitivity, thankful for when he stops. You struggle to hold contact, fatigue seeping in.

You sigh at the feeling of him remove himself, your muscles relaxing and your spine calming. You don't see where Harwin moves off to, until he comes back and murmurs for you to spread your legs, gently wiping his seed from your thighs.

For a moment, you wonder what happens now. Does he just leave? Does he stay? What happens between the two of you? Thoughts rummage, ruining your come down.

"Hey," he brushes your forehead. "Come here." He pulls the sheets back, indicating for you to crawl underneath. All those thoughts are momentarily thrown out the window when he slides in beside you, pulling you to him.

You lay in silence, your head on his chest and your hand playing with his loose curls. "What happens now?" You can't help but ask.

"Now?" He hums, his chest vibrating. "You become my lady wife, and I fuck you whenever I please."

You laugh, rolling further into him. "You better, now that I've given you my maidenhood."

He pulls away slightly, making you look at him. "What? You told me that this wasn't your first-" he stops, reading the glint in your eye and the expression on your face. "You cheeky girl, almost gave me a heart failure."

You grin cheekily, not quite saying anything whilst you comb his hair. You've found yourself with an obsession. "Leave your hair like this," you say lowly, loving the way it frames his face.

"But it gets in my way," he grumbles, swatting your hand away.

"And I like it like this," you counter, going for his curls again, but this time running your nails along his scalp, smirking at his groan. "And I think you secretly like it too." He gives you the side eye, taking your other hand and bringing it to his lips.

#ser harwin strong #harwin strong smut #harwin strong x reader #ryan corr #ser harwin x reader #hotd #house of dragon fic

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dazaiandhislovelybandages · 5 months

Text

My Girl {Dabi}

A/n: okay so I am not really a fan when it comes to civilian reader mostly because I enjoy writing and reading villain reader (and I also ADORE writing the reader being a member of the Zoldyck family) but I feel like this will work way better with a civilian reader so there you go

SANTA IS HERE WITH PART 2

Pairing: Dabi (Touya Todoroki) x f!civilian!reader

Trigger Warnings: mentions of Dabi's scars

It was funny. It was very funny. Living next to a member of the League. Oh it was hilarious. Was it a nice experience? As far as you knew, Dabi rarely slept to his apartment. Was it a hideout? Did he pay any rent? Had he actually bought it for fun? There was no one to answer your questions though something inside you said that he didn't have the money to pay rent, let alone buy the whole apartment.

And since he rarely stayed in his apartment, you also saw him very little. In fact, you had only bumped onto each other exactly two times, and both times you pretended you had no idea who he was. Had you managed to fool him? He had never knocked on your door so the most probable answer was yes.

However, there had been a few times, always late at night when you would catch him sitting at his balcony. He only had one chair there, not even a table and he would always sit, his legs on the railings. Sometimes there would also be a cat on his lap, its fur matching the colour of his hair.

That was how it was. Sometimes you'd see him, sometimes you wouldn't and even though the walls in both of your apartments were thin like paper, not once had you heard him make any noise.

Not once until... that night.

You knew Dabi was spending the night in his apartment. You had heard the front door open and then close. And mere moments later, you could see the light of his balcony from your bed. Not thinking much of it, you got out of bed, wanting to close the balcony door when you heard someone tapping on your railings. Wanting to stay safe and most importantly alive, you decided to ignore it.

"Come on, love." Not having heard his voice before, you couldn't help but be surprised by how deep it was. "Don't be afraid of me, you know I'd never hurt you."

What actually made you walk to your balcony that day was his audacity. "Last time I checked... you are wanted?"

He was unbothered, petting the cat on his lap while looking straight ahead at the busy city.

"I am. That doesn't say much." You watch as he lets out a sigh, making a move to stand up. The cat quickly understands that and jumps off his lap before proudly walking inside his apartment. Dabi on the other hand, stands up, leaning over with his scarred hands on the railings, the only barrier between his side of the balcony and yours. "Oh come on now..." He grins as he sees you taking a step away from him. "Don't tell me you didn't expect that." He chuckled, tilting his head to the side slightly.

If it wasn't so cold outside and if you were stupid you would have actually stayed there to chat. But you were shivering from the low temperature and as much as you were trying to hide it, it was painfully obvious.

Rolling your eyes, you turned around to head inside but Dabi quickly caught your hand, making you turn to face him. "You're not that naive, are you?" His grip on your wrist was surprisingly gentle and his hand was warm, exactly what you needed. "Tell me you expected that, love." His grin only widened when he saw you looking at his hand on your wrist.

"Are you drunk? What should I have expected? You talking to me?"

He let go of your hand with a sigh before sitting back down on his chair. "Way to kill the fun." He mumbled. "I am bored, entertain me."

"I'd rather not, go burn a building or something."

"Shigaraki says I do that too often, plus..." He chuckled, lifting his right arm and you watched in terror as whatever had been holding his scarred skin together with his 'normal' skin was simply not there anymore, leaving some of the skin of his palm loose.

"I have..." You stopped yourself, you knew you would regret this later. "I have bandages..."

"Bring a stapler."

You blindly obeyed, heading back inside to take the stapler from your desk but before you could even walk back outside, Dabi was already in your bedroom, sitting on your bed.

Patching him up was... silenlt. Mostly from your side because there were a few moments when he would wince. It was far more disgusting than you had originally imagined but soon enough you got used to it, not lifting your eyes from the palm of his hand even though you could feel his eyes on you.

"You do an awfully good job..." He pulled his hand from yours to examine it. "I might burn some more buildings just to feel my girl patching me up again."

His laugh was cute. You had to give him that.

You cleared your throat, making him look at you again. "I'm not your girl."

"As far as I am concerned, you are." He paused and stood up. "Since you moan my name every night and all."

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mastermindmiko · 6 months

Text

Poor Mrs Norris

Pairing: Fred Weasley + reader

Word count: 834

Summary: You plan out a prank with Fred and George

Warnings: pranks, hexing, kissing that's all, but lmk if there's anything else

Requests are open

Hey! If you think this didn't completely suck, feel free to check out my masterlist.

At first I thought it was endearing, and sweet. The way he would make sure that I'm feeling well, ate enough and that I am enjoying myself. Now, it's been bringing a bubbly sensation in my stomach that I can't get rid off.

"If we go to Flich's office, we can kidnap Mrs Norris and then-"

"Bold of you to assume that Mrs Norris can be kidnapped she's one feisty cat." I shake my head disapprovingly at Fred's plan, knowing that the cat would scratch his hand enough before she's a meters distance away from him. Fred flirts, "Just like you."

He sends me a wink, and if there were a month ago, merlin, even a few days ago I would have rolled my eyes and continued on with my day, but now, the stupid fluttery, bubbly feeling is back. George says, "We'll just hex her from where she's at."

"How will we get filch away from her long enough to do the hex?" Fred continues, eager to make this prank amazing, hilarious and fool proof. I suggest, "One of you can set up a dungbomb to make Filch notice, and while he's too bust running to catch you, I can hex Mrs Norris."

Poor Mrs Norris, I didn't actually want to hex her, she's a pretty nice cat if you ignore the whole scratching and violent thing she has going on. Luckily, the hex won't hurt her or anything, it'll only last a few hours at most.

"I can do it, since I'm the fastest runner." George says, and Fred looks at his brother like he's grown two heads. Fred counters, "I am the fastest runner."

"No, I am-"

"It really doesn't matter who is faster as long as Filch doesn't catch you." I say, looking between the two bickering boys disapprovingly, but finding Fred's pout adorable.

I think I spend too much time gazing at Fred's beauty because next thing I know he's looking at me with a smug grin then he teases, "You're staring."

"I am not."

"I understand that I'm completely irresistible, but love, you can hide it a bit better than that." Fred continues to tease me, and I roll my eyes, standing up, hoping that he doesn't notice the blush on my face.

"George, you've got the bombs?" I ask, and George stands up waving them. Fred stands up too and I say, "Let's do this then."

George nods his head then leaves the room already making his way to the far side of the corridor a few feet away from where Filch's office is located.

I hide behind one of the pillars and wait until I hear the sound of the bombs exploding then see Filch leaving the room. I wait patiently, but then I feel a hand wrapping around my waist.

I look up to see Fred waiting behind me, eyes trained to the door. I gasp and remove his hand, taking a step back. I say, "What are you doing here?"

"Pranking Filch with you, genius." Fred says, smiling at me, and my face heats again. This crush was getting out of hand, of course he was pranking Filch with me. He looks back at the door and I look at him.

I wonder how anyone could not be able to differentiate between Fred and George. They were identical twins, but there were so many differences. Fred's face was rounder, and he has that adorable freckle on his neck, and that cute-

"You're staring again." Fred says, catching me in the middle of looking at the tiny freckle about his top lip. I turn redder, but don't break the eye contact. I blink a few times, and maybe I've Imagined it, but I see Fred looking at my lips.

It was a spur of the moment thing, I don't even think about it because I know that if I do I'll find a million reasons not to do this. I step up on my tiptoes and kiss him. He reciprocates the kiss before I even realize what I was doing.

He wraps his arms around me and I toy with the hairs on the nape of his neck. He presses me against the pillar and we kiss for what feels like the perfect equivalent of both a second and an eternity.

We hear footsteps approaching and we part. George comes jogging towards us and he has a bit of sweat on his forehead. He's grinning wildly in anticipation. He asks, "Did you do it?"

I didn't even hear the bomb exploding or Filch running after George, so we definitely didn't hex Mrs Norris. I bite my lip sheepishly and Fred answers, "No, we didn't."

"Why not?" George pouts and then he looks confused. He looks at Fred and I, and I feel myself blush. I notice Fred's ears turning pink too. George rambles, "Why are you blushing? And why is your lipstick smudged? And-"

George gasps, and that's the day Fred Weasley became my boyfriend.

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dontbesoweirdkira · 2 months

Text

A/N: I love platonic yandere Johnny Cage so much. Here’s Johnny obsessing over a new and upcoming talent. He wants to protect you and boost your career but he ends up going overboard with it.

Inspired by

Warnings: Yandere themes (stalking, murder, physical abuse and manipulation) blah blah blah it’s a very fun time for you!! :D

Request: open 24/7

Masterlist

I think we as a community all agree that Yandere Johnny Cage is absolutely batshit insane…I mean he’s already operating on a certain kind of time usually but it’s just cranked up to 1000% with you.

Everything in his life just has to be picture perfect, his hair, movies, cars, house, and…you. Especially you! He sees himself in you, full of life and absolutely beautiful! You will have the absolute best if you just do exactly what he says.😀👍

Don’t get me wrong, he absolutely adores the crap out of you and he truly means well. He’s trying his absolute best to take care of you, he’s just an emotionally unregulated fuck.

When Johnny saw your audition tape he just knew you were destined to become America’s next sweetheart. It’s so hard to come by a natural like you in today’s world so he’d be a fool to just let you go.

His career is steadily on the decline so why not try to save it by living vicariously through you. If his name is attached to the new hot shit then he’s sure to skyrocket back into fame.

Johnny coming to you with this deal at first glance was the dream! THE JOHNNY CAGE LIKES YOU?! He thinks you’re star material?? Who wouldn’t take up this one in a lifetime opportunity.

Press conferences, interviews, red carpet and product reviews…Johnny kept you booked with little to no free time.

There was no saying no to this aswell. Take a good look at what you signed sweetheart! You’re his property. You have a script to follow and you better follow it.

What you wear, the way you walk, talk and dress are all under his creative direction.

Just smile at the camera, y/n and say how he’s the best co-star in the entire world and how perfect it is working with for him!

He’d flip out so fucking bad if you even suggest you wanted to leave the spotlight.

He’s the main reason anyone ever even looked your way! Johnny is the “only one” who cares for you, don’t you think that he knows what’s best for you?

He brought the shirt on your back and the food in the fridge and if you want to be an ungrateful little cunt, he’ll take it away from you.

He’ll tell you how if you really didn’t want to be here, he’d just hire someone else to take your place. And not just as America’s sweetheart…as his too.

Yeah you're an adult and he technically has no legal rights over you once your contract is up but imagine the constant conditioning that you’re going to be nothing without him.

He set up everything in a way where you can’t escape. The house he “gifted” you is all under his name, so is that fancy car and even your cell phone.

Even though he consistently threatens to disown, replace and ruin you, he will go absolutely psychotic if you decide to ignore him.

Oh and that cell phone I mentioned earlier? He’s constantly tracking you with it. Has access to personal files and even a parental mode at his disposal.

The revival of his career is crumbling in front of his eyes…worst yet, the entire WORLD.

He’ll blow up your phone with tons of texts and voice messages, spend copious amounts of money on gifts to bribe you back, kick up the charm too and tell you he didn’t mean what he said and that he’s such a terrible mentor.

He cries how he just wanted a better life for you and how he just wants to do something great and if all of this work fails he’ll become even more of a joke.

If that doesn't work he’ll even go as far as to try to manipulate you by saying he’s going to terminate all of his projects, delete his social media and tell the world he’s such a horrible man and that he doesn’t deserve any of the fame he has because he’s hurt you.

Of course you come back and start doing as he says again, only for the cycle to repeat.

Johnny isn’t the absolute worst, he does protect you from any potential dangers out there. He works extremely hard to keep your image very clean and pure even though you’re in your 20's . As much as you hate basically being stuck in a girl next door persona, he explains how once you start becoming a sex icon like him…the exploitation becomes worse.

Johnny definitely has been through and seen a lot of shit so he’s got the right spirit but wrong execution.

He even beat the shit out of a producer and got arrested because he tried forcing himself on you.

Speaking of getting arrested for fighting, this is such a common occurrence for him that you hold onto some of his credit cards just in case you have to bail him out on any given day.

Has threatened to murder multiple people in great detail for making you uncomfortable…now I’m not saying he’s ever carried out those plans but have you ever seen any of those co-stars ever again? Eh..Johnny said they just weren’t working with the camera.

He will vet any jobs you want to take and hand pick the safest sets and crews for you to work with. Your real manager doesn’t even argue with him anymore, he just accepts the fact Johnny is the self proclaimed one.

Hey well at least your idol doesn’t interfere in your romantic life! He just has to run background checks, stalk their socials and inner circles, be there on the date…nothing major….

You just can’t hook up with anyone, y/n. Can you imagine what this would do to your image??

Don’t bring up the hypocrisy of him practically dating most of the tri-state area….in the past year!

Has thought about getting a conservatorship over you but has been rejected because if anyone needs one, it’s really him.

#johnny cage #yandere mortal kombat #Yandere Johnny cage #jonathan carlton #mortal kombat 1 #mk1 #mk1 2023 #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #johnny cage x reader #Yandere Jonny cage x reader #kung lao x reader #lui kang x reader #mortal kombat x reader

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hana-no-seiiki · 11 months

Text

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐘𝐀𝐍 𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐋 𝐎𝐂! [ 𝐇𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐈 ] 𝐱 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐔𝐏! 𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

— [ 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ] ( full drawing at the end of post )

𝐇𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐈𝐌. This was the norm with idols. Nothing was wrong with such a premise you surmised, as only fools would believe their idols act the same on camera and behind. It was simple. They had an image and a personality, two completely different things in the entertainment world.

Hayate’s image was this brash, straight to the point, no nonsense person. A man who did not care much about looks, but was completely devoted to the art of music. A startling contrast to his angel like singing voice. Gap Moe, as his fans and manager would put it.

Hayate’s personality behind the cameras however, is what you would say an almost complete one-eighty.

The bi-colored haired boy was total skincare fanatic, he loved fashion, planning out his looks, journaling, and working out for the sake of keeping his body in shape. You say almost because he was incredulously meticulous either-way. You never met a man who was so passionate that it often infected you to do the same in your career and life. He enjoyed idol-work, breathed it, and deserved every bit of success he’d gotten so far.

He was also, still brash even behind the scenes.

“Why the hell would you be jealous of me?” To many, Hayate’s voice was intimidating — rough, and quite loud. It was jarring to see him switching from his speaking one to his singing. But to you who had spend far too long with this man, it was normal. And sometimes normal was something to crave for.

And boy did Hayate enjoy those normal moments between you two.

“Hayate, who wouldn’t be jealous of a man whose group had won several awards in their rookie years, now topping every chart.”

“A complete All-Kill, innit?” Your co-worker spoke from a couple of feet away. He was in charge of styling Hayate’s mess of a hair. The two of you are the only people capable of being physically close to him, aside from his members without being mauled. And you mean mauled in every sense of the term.

“Besides that, you’re just so motivated all the time. It’s like you have endless energy to do what you have to do.”

You noticed Hayate visibly relax, his tense posture almost escaping your eyes earlier. You make a mental note to bring him out to rest again one day. Most likely after your pay-day. Hayate always offered to pay for stuff you two bought on an outing but you just couldn’t do him like that.

Your co-worker chimed in again, “Meanwhile [Y/N] is here downing several [Fave Caffeinated Drink] just to get through the day.”

“Why are you here again?” You and Hayate deadpanned in sync, earning a laugh from all three of you in the room.

“I just . . . have a good. . . source of motivation.” The singer gave you a heavy, alluring stare. His muscle tee allowing you to view his neck slowly turning scarlet.

“He’s all red.”

“Fuck, I completely forgot to blend his neck! Wait, where’s my foundation brush?!” You screeched, running out to find wherever it could have gotten to in the building, knowing you most likely forgot it in the another member’s room. Either completely unaware of Hayate’s intense look, or simply too dense to understand the connotation of it.

Your colleague snorted as the door closed behind you, “You’re going to have to be more obvious than that lover boy, they’re worse than a brick wall.”

“. . .”

“Not even a sure, mate?” The British man sighed. It was always like this. Whenever you were out Hayate would just go silent. Only ever speaking to direct the stylist’s actions. You always insisted that your client saw you two as equal as you’ve never witnessed him acting this way, and every time the hair stylist spoke to you about it he could feel the menacing glare down his spine just provoking him to speak so that Hayate would pounce at an excuse to fire and sue him for defamation.

Once he was done styling the idol’s hair, Mr. Co-Worker backed off immediately. Knowing full well of the consequences of lingering around Hayate any longer.

“I’m back!” You hollered, a limp on your step due to a large man glomping you from behind.

“And who’s that behind you?” Your co-worker sighed. With you around his risk of dying goes down by at least 70%.

“Ehe.” But with Eve of all people to rile Hayate up, he’ll have to crank those chances back up again. The visual of the group had apparently stolen it earlier when he came by to do his daily dues in pushing Hayate one step further to an aneurysm. It was an important duty he had to fulfill as a member of Yesterday’s Dawn, and bringing you into the mix happened to annoy the vocalist the most.

“Don’t ehe me, Soo-bitch! Get the hell out of my make-up room!”

Eve smooches you on the cheek before promptly sticking his tongue out, “BLEGHHHHHH!!!”

You froze in response.

You see the veins protruding on Hayate’s temples and neck, reminding you of the job you came into the room to properly finish. Angry Hayate was something you haven’t seen in a while, but experienced has taught you not to react much and proceed with your job as if he isn’t planning several ways of mutilation at the moment.

It worked as moments later he calmed down and began chatting with you again.

Perhaps you should retract your judgment of his character. Hayate didn’t have sides he just had layers, and you his beloved make-up artist, were in the deepest one.

@yesterdaysdawnofficial just posted something! Check it out?

❤️ 💬 ✈️

1,426,394 likes

yesterdaysdawnofficial just two pretty bois uwu -eve

View all 18,048 comments

yesterdayssleepfxker✅ nice.

yesterdaysfoodfxker✅ BLUDNDJDJ BLUR THE LOGO BLUR THE LOGO

yesterdaysbeauty ✅ there goes our sumsang sponsorship…

maniacforhayate AAAAAAAA OPPAR SaRANGhae

yesterdaysstan in this part of the ydjungle we see hayatus sasakus warding off one of his potential mates via hypnosis. completely uninterested.

_sanctuary_of_flowers_ *fanfic typing intensifies*

[ AUTHOR’S NOTE ]

Hayate was pretty much born from my weird obsession with working out and practicing the violin lately. My parents said that I look and sound hella constipated doing both and so an emotionally constipated yandere just came into mind.

also i “referenced” that one photo of jungkook holding a mirror to jimin’s meme face for this in case you thought the artwork looked familiar. tried using a new hair coloring style ehe.

UNEDITED

want more content like this? check my masterlist or the first few tags for more specific posts.

©️ hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2023. artworks, characters, and story belongs to me. please do not redistribute, repost, or translate without permission.

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lets-try-some-writing · 5 months

Note

Since you have an au where Optimus used his holoform to become a teacher, I was curious if any of the other bots have messed around with their holoforms?

WELL-

I am just going to tie this in with Mr. Pax because goodness it fits too well. Enjoy!

Mr. Pax AU here!

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙

Optimus was by far the only bot in base who used his holoform so frequently. Being a teacher is taxing and he often goes out of his way to spent an almost equal amount of time in holoform as out. But he isn't the only bot who spends time parading as a human off and on.

Ratchet, despite almost never leaving base, has occasionally used his holoform during quiet days to travel to bigger cities in order to sit in on lectures. He fakes whatever he needs to in order to get into lectures on subjects he wants to know more about, usually relating to medicine and all things natural sciences. He has been known to show up for math lectures too. However, he is not exactly the most subtle. Coming in with bright orange and white hair, possessing scars to mimic his facial plating seams, and always dressing the same exact way while never seeming to breathe or blink tends to draw attention.

Much like Optimus, Ratchet has gained a bit of a reputation. His appearances are so random and so varied in location that there has been a forum dedicated to him specifically. He has turned up all over the globe to listen to lectures, and as such, folks have taken pictures and begun trying to connect the dots. Many a poor fool has lamented the absolute impossibility of Ratchet being in Tokyo for a debate over quantum physics only to then be in Istanbul two hours later to observe archeologists argue over Roman relics. Ratchet has no idea that he is regarded as the "Wandering Pharmacist", in large part due to his eternally present lab coat.

Arcee does not tend to use her holoform unless absolutely required. But after heading through a seedier part of one of the larger cities in America, she has taken to heading to the more crime ridden ones on weekends to do some vigilante work. Being a nonexistent person means that she is able to get away with quite a lot. Thus far, Arcee has busted quite a few drug rings, saved dozens of trafficking victims, and dropped anonymous details to the police regarding homicides. Is is a waste of time? She would argue "maybe". Does she go out anyway? Absolutely.

Always having her holoform in black and garbed in a biker helmet ensures Arcee is never caught. But there are rumors now in larger cities of a biker called "Lady Midnight". Arcee's habit of walking scared women home on dark nights has earned her a very favorable reputation, and more than one mural has been made by appreciative artists over the years. She knows she has a reputation, but she never changes her routine. Those who meet her regard her respectfully, even criminals. She too has a forum dedicated to her. No one has been able to successfully figure out who, or rather what she is.

Bumblebee has become a very well known gamer who turns up at the local arcade every now and then. His signature mask, yellow black marked hoodie, and dread locks leave him able to be picked out from a mile away. No one knows his parents or if he even has any. But when Bumblebee comes on into Jasper's arcade, the local children revere him as if he is some sort of god. His ability to beat the games is legendary, and never once does he utter a word. He has a small fanclub who do everything in their power to learn the way of "The Masked Boy"

Thus far, only one kid saw Bumblebee's holoform vanish and be reabsorbed. Not a soul believes the poor sod. If anything, it has only cemented Bumblebee's position as the Lord of video games. Rafael is the only one out of the trio who knows that its Bumblebee who goes the arcade. Jack and Miko assume that its just some rando who drops by every now and then. Oh how wrong they are.

Bulkhead has only uses his holoform for the express purpose of talking with the older folks at the bar. He took a liking to a group of construction workers shortly after arriving to Earth. They taught him a great deal about acting human while thinking he was a foreigner. The elderly crew treated him so kindly that Bulkhead has now made it a habit to go and get drinks with them once a week if he can manage. He loves hearing the stories of these elderly humans, and despite being ages older than them, he has a fantastic time learning under them.

Little does he know that the crew know that he's not human. But there is an old understanding amongst them. If someone it polite and kind, there is no need to pry. And so they don't. They treat Bulkhead as they would any other person and tell stories as if they can't see his holoform flickering off and on. What happens in the bar stays in the bar.

Wheeljack somehow managed to build himself a club by pure accident. He was meandering about and he saw a few kids being pushed around. And so on instinct, he slaps together a holofrom and gets out to beat the afts of those who were messing with the kids. From that point onward, whenever he was on Earth he offered greetings to the local kids, calling them by fun and unique nicknames. He even began instructing a few on how to throw a proper punch, if only for self defense. Is he around often? No. But do the kids respect the hell out of him? Absolutely. By giving them the watered down version of the Wrecker rules, the local children hold nothing but absolute adoration for him.

There is a whole club dedicated to following the rules he taught them. In his absence, the small gang of kids serve as Wheeljack's replacement and help protect the other kids from bullies and other such individuals. They even have gone so far as to get matching clothes and accessories so that when they are "on duty" they can look the part. Wheeljack has never been so proud.

Ultra Magnus has only used his holoform a few times, and all of which were to go meet Optimus at school. He has largely been the one to come bring Optimus things while the Prime is at work, or to otherwise look big and intimidating to cover for Optimus more subtle tactics. The students murmured about him possibility being Optimus's spouse, but those claims were dismissed with Ultra Magnus refusing to call Optimus anything other than "Commander". Now the class firmly believes that he has to be one of Optimus's kids or a fellow fae creature subserviently to Mr. Pax. The rumors are amazing.

Smokescreen can never keep his holoform straight. His is always changing appearances. And so whenever he goes out and promptly does something he really shouldn't be able to, he is often recorded and promptly lost to the ether. He is always the one breaking human biological limits through pushing his holoform more than it really should, often by accident too. All he wants is to go enjoy human culture and he almost always gets recorded doing something just strange enough to count as supernatural, but not odd enough to really warrant any attention.

Like Ratchet, there is a forum for him dubbed "The shapeshifer". He doesn't know about it, but the forum enjoyers are actually quite intelligent and have long connected Smokescreen's various holoforms together.

#transformers #maccadam #transformers prime #optimus prime #team prime #ratchet #bumblebee #ultra magnus #arcee #bulkhead #wheeljack #smokescreen #teacher au

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seungmoonandstars · 2 months

Text

𝓌𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝐼 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹

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Kim Seungmin/noona reader

wc: 6.8k

rating: fluff/explicit/18+ ಇ (idiots to lovers)

contains: light angst, weight mention, medication mention, virgin!Minnie, unprotected sex

songs to listen to while reading: violents - awake and pretty much sober / orion sun - water

part one / part two // masterlist ☽

Every story I write is a work of love, and I enjoy spending my free time doing it, regardless of the attention is receives, but your reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! If you enjoy anything I write, please reblog! ❣️

────────────────♡───✦

There should be tension, but there isn’t. It’s dark—every light is off, and the curtains are closed to the city outside. All either of you can see is what your eyes allow in the pitch black.

Seungmin keeps to his side, respecting the empty space between you.

He’s tight under the covers, but his eyes are wide open and taking in as much as possible. You, however, are beginning to doze off. You’re exhausted, and he’s smiling as your eyes get heavier—they close longer each time you force yourself awake to look at him.

“Sleep”

It may be the start of a dream, but you think you hear him speak to you.

“Sleep, you’ll feel better in the morning”

The curtains are pulled back when your eyes open again, and it’s so bright in the room, you have no choice but to pull the blanket over your head. Seungmin isn’t where you can see him. The spot where he should have been is neat and doesn’t look slept in. Your heart sinks. Did your head bring him back after he left? You fell asleep thinking he was with you, speaking softly as you drifted off to sleep.

“Good morning”

You turn, and there he is, leaning against the doorway. He changed his clothes, probably into whatever he kept in his overnight bag, but his hair is evidence of how hard he slept.

“You’re here”

“I’m here. I made some coffee, if you’re ready to get up. But sleep more if you need to.”

“No, I’m good. I’ll be out in a few minutes.

Seungmin did stay. Or, you didn’t kick him out, at least. Last night is hazy, and drinking was a stupid mistake, so the only thing you can remember is that you acted like a fool. And only he knows just how much of a fool. You feel okay, though. You’re not as hungover as you should be, but you do feel the ghost of a headache pushing at the back of your eyes.

When you finally come out, he watches you from the same spot he sat in last night, on the far side of the coffee table. There’s a mug already poured for you, right next to his.

“Are you hungry? Some haejangguk might be good for both of us.”

Calm and sweet and soft as always. You know his other side, the brat…the comedian—the one who always has a sarcastic comment to give out. You love both of them. But you know there’s so much more.

He seems to realize you drank well beyond your limit, he just hasn’t said it yet.

You look at him over the rim of your mug as you sip. He’s staring hard at his coffee.

“We drank too much last night, I think”

“I drank too much, not you…you don’t have to go easy on me. I acted like an idiot.”

“What happened? Did you mean what you said last night?”

“More than an idiot”

“No,” he shakes his head. “You were so upset, it was scary. Tell me you’re okay.”

“It’s so late, you must be busy today”

“I told the guys to call me in sick. I don’t have to be anywhere. Do you feel okay?” He cautiously inches his hand towards you, “do you feel like yourself?”

Sometimes you forget how much of yourself you’ve given to him over the months, and it seems like he knows you were out of it last night, literally…mentally. Not just drunk. But it’s been a while, and your tolerance has obviously diminished. Whatever adjustments you’ve had in your medication recently, it certainly doesn’t want any alcohol on top of it.

“Yeah, I think so. I can’t remember much of what happened. I thought I only dreamt that you stayed with me last night.”

“I was here,” his hand goes for your cheek, and runs his thumb across it. “And you slept soundly all morning.”

“Thank you for staying”

“Thank you for letting me”

“…but I understand if you don’t want to anymore”

Seungmin smiles and shakes his head, “how long have we known each other now?”

You do the math in your head as soon as you remember what day it is. “A year and…” when you look up at him again, he looks like he’s thinking along with you, “two months, three weeks...five days.”

“No hours?”

“Almost two hours, I think it was around noon when we met”

“You remember that?” His eyes light up when you nod at him, “well, in all that time, I have never not enjoyed your company, or wanted to cut our time short. I will stay for as long you’ll have me.”

“Seungmin, how long have you felt…like this? How I feel?”

“Let me think…” he sips his coffee, but his eyes don’t move from yours. And you can see the grin behind his mug. “Uhm, it was the day before Seotdal Geumeum, and you had just come back from a trip.”

The story already sounds familiar. You weren’t even sure he’d remember a certain day or conversation between the two of you, but knowing he kept this memory in his head—you suddenly need to get closer to him. Your eyes fall to the empty space on his crossed legs, and a memory from last night jumps up, but you shake it off and go back to his eyes.

“I saw you walking toward the cafeteria, and you stopped to say hi to me. I wasn’t sure you actually remembered who I was. Or if you knew my name. But you looked right at me, smiled and said, ‘good morning Seungmin, did you have breakfast already?’ And I thought for a moment that you were asking me to get breakfast, but…how silly, why would you want to get breakfast with me?”

The story is familiar. You remember this exact moment with him, and you laugh, but keep quiet until he finishes.

“I told you I did. You said ‘maybe next time’, and walked away. I watched you until you were gone. And every time I went down to eat, I hoped I would see you, so you could ask me again.”

“But you asked me”

Seungmin laughs and gets to his feet, “I’ll get us more coffee.”

“I was so upset that first time, when you told me you’d already eaten. It took so long to finally work up the courage to talk to you while you were alone. But I did that much, at least.”

More memories of him come to you as you watch him make your coffee; the first time you did eat with him, but not in the cafe at work. Seungmin asked if you’d go to the park and get hotteok with him because he was craving something sweet, and nobody else wanted to go. It was the first time he caught you alone, just as you were leaving. And of course you went—you cherished every moment of those two hours together because you weren’t sure if it would happen again.

Thinking back to that night makes you wonder how it took this long to get here.

“I wasn’t expecting anyone to look at me over Chan or Minho hyung…any of them, really. Especially wasn’t expecting it to be you.” Seungmin sits back down and looks at you, and he stares quietly for much longer than necessary. He blinks slowly, and you can tell something is going on behind his eyes. “I’m pretty sure I remember Chan hyung talking about you before that, before we started spending time together. I feel like he was interested in you, but never did anything. I’m sure he still is. Anyway…I think I was kind of in love from that moment on.”

The air catches in your throat, and your heart feels like it’s going to beat right out of your chest. When you look at him, he sips his coffee like he didn’t just say what he said, but the pink of his cheeks makes you think otherwise.

“You were?” Sounding casual is impossible. You barely get the words out in a whisper.

“What? Oh, I’m sorry. That was—“

“I don’t wanna disappoint you,” you stop and look toward the kitchen, toward the bedroom, then back at Seungmin. “Shit, I’m starting to remember last night.”

Bits and pieces pop up to the surface; the very moment your self conscious brain took over, when he lifted your shirt over your head, how concerned he was, how tight he held you. You remember him turning off the light to try to make you more comfortable, but nothing was going to fix what was already in motion.

“Too much? I can take that back, and save it for another time.”

And then he silently refused to leave. If you had ended up having your way, and if Seungmin had failed to see through you, you’d be having a very different morning.

“No, I’ll take it now.”

─ ⋅⋅ ─

A week goes by before you have a chance to see him again, but it feels like a month. As the days pass, and you lay in bed at night trying to sleep, the things you did and said to him that night slowly resurface. And you hate yourself for it. The intrusive thoughts and self-doubt aren’t new, but you can’t believe you unleashed it on him. Seungmin didn’t deserve that.

The worst part of all of it, is that he remembers even more than you. Seungmin remembers every word and look you gave him. But he still left that night and texted you to check up, and he kept texting you…

I’ll see you tonight! If that’s still the plan. It’s been a long week, so I’m looking forward to it. I don’t want you to feel bad if you aren’t up to it, though.

Just let me know. If so, maybe I can just call you. I hope you have a good day.

You don’t want to mess things up again, and you won’t. The two of you will have dinner, watch a movie, nothing crazy…and hopefully afterward, you can pick up where you left off before things went downhill. But if not, you’re just happy to have him here with you again.

─ ⋅⋅ ─

He arrives right on time. When you open the door to greet him, his hands are stuffed in his pockets, his backpack is slung over one shoulder. The smile on his face is a little reserved.

Last week, when he left, things weren’t tense or awkward, so you’re not worried about that. What you don’t know is that Seungmin has been busy dwelling on his own words—his accidental confession…telling you he’s been in love with you. Not just harboring a secret crush, a physical attraction, a desire for sex—actually in love with you. He feels stupid for saying it. He feels silly and vulnerable for feeling it.

“Get in here,” you grab one of the straps and pull him in enough to close the door, “it’s good to see your face again.”

“Is it? I haven’t slept much the last few nights. I feel so tired and puffy.” He rubs his hands down his face and groans.

“Why haven’t you slept?” As much as you want to yank him down and kiss him, you don’t. You need to be careful, because even without the alcohol messing things up, you’re nervous. You reach out for him, “I don’t mind if you fall asleep on the couch.”

He leans onto your hand as it cups his chin. “I want to make sure I didn’t make things weird last time.”

“You? Make things weird?”

“Yes, because I kinda…said…the “L” word”

“No Minnie, you didn’t say anything wrong. I’m more afraid of you not feeling that way.”

You don’t have to worry about kissing him—he goes for it first. His hands wrap softly around the sides of your neck as he works on your mouth, and he’s so good at it. Or maybe he’s not, and you just think he is. Maybe you’re both a little awkward. It doesn’t matter—his tongue sliding against yours, and his hands squeezing your neck is heaven.

Seungmin is desperately pulling you closer to his height. His arm grabs around your waist and lifts, and your stomach drops at the thought of him trying to pick you up and failing. You’re too heavy for this. He doesn’t try, though—just brings you closer to his mouth, touches all over your back. Then bites down hard on your lip.

You ouch and laugh into the kiss as he slowly lets go, and he brings some blood back with him.

“I…oh you’re bleeding,” he licks it from his lips and wipes at yours with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. “I’m such an idiot, I’m sorry. Does it hurt?”

“No, I’m okay! It’s no big deal, it’s just a little scratch.”

He watches it for a moment to see if it starts again, and it does. “Let’s go put something on it.”

You won’t tell him, but your bottom lip is throbbing. Seungmin already feels bad enough, and you watch his worried face as he wets a washcloth, rings it out, and puts it on you. And the cold feels so nice.

“See, it did hurt,” he peeks at it again to see if he got anymore blood. “That feels good, yeah?”

“It does”

“I didn’t know my teeth were so sharp,” he says it mostly to himself, “maybe it was my braces.”

His tongue slides across his top teeth to check. Then his bottom teeth. And then he does the same thing with his thumb and index finger.

“It’s okay, Minnie. It’s not gonna discourage me from kissing you.”

“Mm, but it might hurt if we do that right now,” he frowns and runs his thumb over the mark he made, across your lips, then leans forward to kiss your forehead.

“I can be patient”

Seungmin stays there for a while, lips pressed firmly against you. Your mouth still throbs a little, but you push it out of your mind and go straight for his neck. So, not very patient. You can only reach him when he’s bent down like this, so he lets you go after him until you bite down.

“Oh, you’re just getting back at me!”

“That wasn’t the plan, but I took the opportunity”

“Do it again,” he grabs you and lifts until you can nuzzle against his neck.

“Okay, just one more”

You kiss the same spot and suck, sink your teeth in a little, just until you hear him sigh. Seungmin likes getting bit, and maybe doesn’t mind you leaving marks. You move down a little near his collar bone, and suck again.

“That’s two,” he laughs and groans when you bite down.

“Stop me if you want”

The mm mm in your ear tickles and tingles down your spine, and you’re lifted again, but this time your feet leave the floor and you have no choice but to grab him around the neck, “Seungmin!”

“Yeah?” He holds you securely around your hips, and he’s smiling, very satisfied with himself. “What?” He smiles even wider, “you don’t like being held?”

“No, I just wasn’t sure you could lift me”

“I wasn’t worried,” he squeezes even tighter and licks his lips. “Besides, I’m stronger than I look.”

“I see that…” the pain in your lip still hasn’t quit, thanks to your biting, so you go for another soft kiss on his lips, “strong legs.”

“Strong core.” Seungmin returns the kiss, just as softly.

The thought of him and his core sends your stomach swirling, and it dips down slowly and makes your thighs shake. Seungmin feels you tighten around him, and his fingers dig into your back.

“Are you gonna take me somewhere?”

“Hm? Oh…yes, but this is also nice,” he takes a few steps out of the kitchen, toward the couch, gaze stuck on yours.

It’s a smooth walk, and you’re still a little surprised at how easy it seems to be for him—but you think too soon, because it feels like you’re going to fall, but you don’t, because Seungmin catches himself before you both end up the floor. He still holds tight and looks at you with wide eyes.

“Sorry, uh…”

“Coffee table”

“Yeah, forgot about the coffee table. You good?”

Just as you nod, he bends down and very carefully sets you on the couch. But he doesn’t sit with you, or climb over you like you want him to. Seungmin stands and looms, pushes his hair back and away from his eyes. He just looks at you for a moment, then his stare very obviously moves down your body, then back up.

“Be right back”

He turns and walks off before you can protest. Off toward the bathroom, you think, or you assume. Where else could he possibly be going? You lie there for a while and wonder if the room is too quiet, too awkward, considering what might be about to happen. Dinner is still in the oven staying warm, and as much as you want to get up and check on it, you don’t want him to come back out and see you some where he didn’t put you.

What you can do is reach for your phone on the coffee table, connect to your speakers, and get rid of the silence. You do, and you fight with yourself for far too long about what to put on, about what would even be appropriate for right now.

Then you look down at yourself—the outfit you threw on is a little short of date night, but you knew you were staying in, and you wanted to be comfortable. Seungmin always is…he came in his usual sweatpants and t-shirt tonight. You loosen the string on your shorts and tie it in a bow just as he comes back out.

“Are you comfy?” He bends down and kisses your forehead again, then looks around. “I like the mood music.”

“Yeah, you okay? You were gone for a while.”

“I’m okay,” his voice softens as he looks at your hand hanging from his pocket. “I’m good.”

Seungmin doesn’t stop you when you slide it closer and touch him. He’s still soft, but not completely—he’s growing, and he twitches against your fingertips. It feels like last time, though, and you don’t want to recreate that, even if you are okay tonight. But Seungmin whines when you pull your hand away.

“I can turn some lights down,” he whispers, “gimme a second.”

He starts with the lamp right above you, then heads toward one of the windows and clicks off another one as he pulls the blinds shut. Now the only light is what’s spilling in from the kitchen. It’s much better.

Seungmin stands over you again, mostly a silhouette, and the light lays softly on one side of him, “is that better?”

His voice is warm, and he looks warm—he is warm, you know that—and your need for him is pulsing through every vein and muscle and limb . It feels like your heart could explode, and keeping your breathing steady is much more work than it should be. You sit up a little and reach for him again, his waistband this time, and tuck your fingers into it. Your knuckles run across his sharp hip, you pull, and Seungmin pulls on his other side.

There’s no teasing this time. You pull down, he follows, and you take his cock in your hand once he’s free. Still not fully hard, but considering his size, you’re not surprised.

“Seungmin?” When you look up at his face, mostly hidden by the dark, you can see his lust drunk eyes getting heavy.

“Mm?”

He falls to one knee on the couch and puts all of his weight on it, and grabs for you. The feeling of your strokes has him a little dizzy, so when you use your mouth, it feels like he might collapse into you. He stays up, though. One hand grips the back of your neck, the other uses the couch for balance. Watching you is making him delirious.

You slow down, but your lips don’t leave him. They graze lightly over his length, and your tongue comes out to lap up the pre-cum. When you look up at him, you wonder if he realizes how out of it he looks. You’re surprised his legs haven’t given out on him. “Sit.”

He listens and pulls at his sweats on his way down. It’s a relief to be relaxing, melting into the couch as you swallow him again. Now his hands can touch you more, slide across your neck and back, move down until his fingers slip under your shorts and squeeze. Seungmin has been quiet, but he finally moans, and it sends you over the edge.

As soon as you stop, he whines again—just a barely audible no as his hips writhe beneath the loose grip of your hand.

“Minnie,” you start again, and your strokes are slow and careful, and just enough to keep him where he’s at. A change of position wakes him up a little. “Look at me.”

“I’m looking,” he smiles and grabs your hip. “I’m here.”

“You sure?”

He’s as here as he’s going to be. Soon, he’ll be even more lost, but Seungmin nods seriously as he watches you.

“Min…hey can I ask you something?”

He doesn’t answer. His eyes are too busy following the up and down of your hand on his cock. The sound, the way you squeeze so gently and move your thumb across his head.

“Minnie?” This time you stop completely, and it breaks the trance he’s in. “Let’s go to the bedroom.”

A quick, dazed nod, then he patiently waits as you put his dick away and fix his sweatpants. Now he holds you tight. He’s not sure how well he’ll stand with his legs so unstable, and with this painfully hard erection sucking the blood from his limbs, but he’s going to try.

“Hold onto me,” he scoots up and plants his feet firmly on the floor, and then he’s up with nothing but a tiny grunt. Seungmin sighs as he gets his bearings, and starts to move.

“I could’ve walked,” but you like this…you like the smile on his face when he hitches you up and holds you securely against him. This view almost makes you forget all of the things you remembered from before—the thoughts, and doubts that still float into your mind when you have too much time to think. Looking at him makes them less powerful each time.

“Bedroooom,” he sings it, and it empties your head and gives you butterflies. “I won’t trip this time.”

The only thing on your mind is him.

“What were you gonna ask me?”

What were you going to ask? It’ll come back to you eventually, but for now, it’s not important.

“I’ll let you know when I remember.”

The trip to the far side of the bed is long. Seungmin takes his time, walking slowly, watching you but peeking over your shoulder to make sure he isn’t running into anything. He pulls you close before setting you down, kisses your shoulder and neck.

“You are a surprise…”

He tilts his head, “why am I a surprise?”

The head tilt, the soft biting on his bottom lip…there’s something so strangely confident about him as he stands over you. Now you remember what you wanted to ask him.

“You’re a little romantic”

Seungmin pulls his shirt off and shakes his hair flat again, “I am? Is that not what you expected?”

“No, I guess it isn’t.”

He’s on you before you can finish your thought, first just hovering, looking at you. He waits for you to touch him, because as soon as your hands slide up his sides, he comes down and kisses again. Ear, neck, all along your shoulder.

“Why not?”

Because you’ve only ever, until very recently, seen his unserious side. Sweet, yes…and always there when you need him. But never, even in your countless daydreams and musings, did you think him one to carry you to your bed, and kiss you so lovingly wherever he could find a spot. At least not so quickly. He’s still doing it right now. Seungmin’s lips are tracing a line down your arm, of all places, and he keeps going until he gets to your fingers.

“Maybe I don’t know you as well I think I do. We’re both bad with our feelings, right?”

“Mm, but not right now”

No, not right now. Seungmin seems to have no trouble showing you his feelings right at this moment. His mouth moves to your hip, and you can feel his fingers tug at the string on your shorts. Your heart pounds, and you’re afraid of him noticing how fucked up your breathing is. It’s taking a lot of effort to keep calm. You want this, you want him. You absolutely want him. So why can’t you let yourself have him?

“It’s alright,” he looks up at you from your hip and smiles. “Take a nice big breath.”

He can tell—he knows. Just like last time, only last time you told him you were nervous when you were actually terrified. Now it’s just nerves, and you can get yourself through it. You do what he says, and you take a deep breath. Exhale slowly.

“Maybe if you tell me. Why am I making you nervous? And don’t tell me I’m perfect.”

“I’m just…out of practice." It's kind of a lie, but you stick with it. You can't give him the same stupid answers again.

“Me too, maybe we’re a little even”

He moves slowly, lifting your shirt just enough to find more skin to kiss.

“You are? So you’re not…you have had sex?”

His eyes seem to grow twice as big as he looks at you, “no…no I guess I said that wrong. This is my first time.”

“Good to know”

“I’m sorry”

“I’m not”

You feel his fingers hook beneath your shorts, but he doesn’t pull yet, “is this okay?”

They’re off as soon as you lift your hips for him—your heart somehow beats even faster, and the dark of the room presses so hard against your eyes, you feel like you’re blind. But you feel him, so close, not the least bit shy as he moves his lips across more new skin. So close that you think he might close his mouth around your cunt. You want him to because you readied yourself for anything the night might bring, and you’re aching for his touch. Any part of him.

His lips press softly against your clit, and he opens up just enough to lick before continuing upward. You hear his faint giggle when you can’t hold back a moan, and when you peek again, he’s getting out of his sweats and back between your legs. Dick in hand, slow, lazy strokes as he stares down, and his free hand pushes your thighs further apart.

Everything from this point on happens so fast.

Seungmin is there again, kissing, eyes open and watching you, maybe for some sort of protest or hesitation. He’s used to getting stopped now, but you’re not doing that again. You’re well past that point. It’s the furthest thing from your mind.

The heat of his cock is on you, sliding down, and then up across your clit. Seungmin still watches, but lowers himself until his forehead touches yours. And then the pressure of him pushing in sends you further up into the pillow.

“Sorry…sorry” he pulls back and lifts himself up. “I’ll slow down.”

“You’re okay, Min. We might need some extra help.” You’re wet, you can feel it, and you can feel yourself continue to get more and more hungry for him. “Try it from up there.”

He nods and pulls you down by your hips until your thighs lay over his, “do you like this position? On your back?”

“Yeah, it’s a good start…considering”

Seungmin’s sigh is a little dramatic, very cute, and manages to relax you a little. He’s looking down at himself, but his hand is exploring you. His finger slides over your clit and moves down, slowly, feeling how wet you are.

“What’s that sigh for?” You catch his eyes as your legs squeeze him a little, and it seems to get him back in the moment. He’s pressing into you again, and this time, he slides in a little.

“I was afraid…” he stops and waits a few seconds before pushing in further, “we’d have trouble.”

“We’ll be okay”

“Aah…yeah,” his breath hitches as he goes, and he slides in with such ease he has to stop himself.

“Fuck…Minnie”

“Too much?”

“No no it’s good.” Your breathing steadies, and you savor the feeling of him finally inside of you—the stretch, almost too much, but not. The pain dulls a little as he pulls out, and all of the slick arousal clinging to him helps him slide back in so smoothly. It’s so much softer, and more mind numbingly good than you thought it would be. “Didn’t need extra help”

Seungmin’s face relaxes, but his eyes look down at you like they’ve never looked at you before.

“Is it good, Minnie?”

No, he has looked at you like this before—when you pulled away from your first kiss. It feels the same. Warm and comfortable. In, then out, and in so slowly you know it has to be driving him crazy. Still, he’s quiet.

“Tell me”

He nods and comes down on his palms. Finally, his face gives you an answer, and you can reach up to touch his cheek.

“Mm, yes yes,” he nods again, moans, and moves his face against your palm, “you’re so…“ another moan escapes mid-thought, and he’s lost again, but still careful as he pumps in and out of you. Careful for you, or careful for himself, you’re not sure, but it’s good—his speed and depth aren’t hurting you, not yet.

“More,” you take his hips in your hands and guide him in deeper, “faster…a little faster.”

He follows your touch and slowly speeds up, but taking all of him hurts, so you push your palms against his stomach to hold him back.

“Good?” His eyes move along your lips and neck, and he comes down to kiss the skin on your chest he can get to.

The shallow, shaky breaths hitting you as he moves back up makes you think he might be getting close.

“Slow”

“Slow,” he whispers and kisses your ear.

The smooth, delicate roll of his hips as he finds his new pace; the tickle of his lips on your ear; his low, relaxed groan. Everything is perfect. And it’s him—it’s Minnie. Tonight is not a forgettable date you won’t talk to again. It’s not a shitty one night stand you put up with because you needed to come, and you needed to scream his name in your head while you did it. You finally have him in your arms.

“Hey, look at me”

He’s busy kissing along your jaw, but eventually, he listens. “Hi, hi…I’m looking.”

“That’s better”

The pace picks up, just enough. This closeness is all that matters for you, and the feeling of him gives you plenty of pleasure—this is all for him, though.

There’s a heady look in his eyes, he licks his lips, his breath stutters. His fingers clench the sheets and his elbow hits the bed as he tries to keep himself steady.

“Good…come for me Minnie.”

Seungmin isn’t being too shy about making noises, thank god. He’s not loud, but you can hear how good he feels, and that’s all you need. But when he comes, you know it. His eyes get glassy and big, his mouth hangs open. The moan trickling out of him rises until it turns into a satisfied cry. His orgasm is intense, and you can feel his cock twitch and pulse as he empties himself inside of you, bites his lip and smiles, and somehow, manages to keep his eyes on yours the entire time.

Then it's quiet. Just out of sync, shakey breaths—yours and his, and the ghostly sound of the music sneaking in from the living room.

“Oh…oh,” he can’t hold back his giddy, post-orgasm giggle.

“Yeah?” you pull him down for a kiss, and hope he does that every time.

“That was fast, I’m sorry”

You have to grab his face to keep his eyes from wandering now, “but how was it?”

Very gently, he brings himself down on top of you. “…you feel so good, so warm and,” tucks his arms around you and holds tight, “perfect.”

The satisfaction in his voice, and the sweet, dizzy way he says it warms you all over, gives you butterflies. It makes you feel stupid and in love. Right now you think you might be able to deal with whatever gets in the way of you and Minnie, including yourself. Especially yourself. You're high on him again, and you don't think you could go without anymore.

“That’s all that matters right now, then.”

─ ⋅⋅ ─

The steady sounds of his breathing make you believe he’s asleep, and he should be. Seungmin said he hasn’t been sleeping very well lately, and now he’s worked hard getting you through this first time, for both of you. You’re still a little taken back by his gentle nature and patience, but that’s probably because most of the men you sleep with are nothing like that—not even close.

Seungmin didn’t like the idea of you not coming, but you eventually got him to relax, and now you’re here. And he’s fast asleep. And everything feels okay for the moment.

You lie down and face him; admire him again. This is the first time you’ve been able to really look at his face with no interruption—no food being stuffed in his mouth, no talking a mile an hour. This time you’re completely sober, and wide awake. His hair is still a little damp from sweat and clinging to his brow, lips are soft and pouty, cheeks are so round, and you long to run a finger across them, but you don’t want to wake him.

And very slowly, his eyes flutter open. He stares at you for a long moment while his lips turn up into a smile. “Hi.”

You suspect he wasn’t sleeping at all.

“Go back to sleep.” Now you take the opportunity to run your thumb across his cheek, then his chin, and you can feel the faintest scratch of stubble.

“I felt you staring at me”

“Sorry”

In place of a reply, you get a kiss.

“It’s hard not to look at you”

Seungmin shakes his head and wrinkles his nose, “no, I’m a sweaty mess right now.”

“I like your little afterglow.”

“I have an afterglow?”

Yes, ruddy cheeks and a smile that he can’t put down, eyes bigger and darker than usual, “you do.” And there’s the shape of his naked body underneath your sheet. The stretch of his shoulder blades, the delicate dip of his lower back rises just slightly over a tiny curve of ass. Not much, but enough to grab. He notices your eyes taking in every inch of him, and when you clench the sheet to pull, Seungmin suddenly gets very shy.

"Heeey," he giggles, but rolls until it wraps around him. Now he's trapped in there. "It feels different when you're not blinded by the...horniness." Seungmin sets his head back down on the pillow and looks at you.

"I understand. You were probably running off half of your blood supply with that erection."

"I’m not that big!" His face is shoved into the pillow, so it's just a mumble, but you understand what he says. "I mean, you were okay, right?" One eye peeks out.

You nod at him, because you're not going to tell him right now that he's going to take some getting used to.

"That's why I ran off to the bathroom earlier."

"Checking your size?"

"No!" He pushes himself up on his elbows, and his stupid grin and narrowed eyes are so animated and distinctly him. His laugh is enough to recharge you. "I was nervous. I just went in there to calm myself, and see what was going on...down there, I guess. It doesn't always cooperate when I want it to."

"I see. I'm glad everything worked tonight. I'm pretty sure it's worked everytime you've come over, though."

"Oh, you noticed?"

"Yeah yeah, it was really hard to stop at your thigh the first night you came over. But you can't hide that."

“That doesn’t usually happen, but, ya know…”

“Was I really your first?”

He nods, but thinks for a few moments. There’s nothing he needs to explain to you—it doesn’t matter that much—but you are interested in anything he has to tell you about himself.

“Going that far? Yes. I’ve had a few other encounters that didn’t go anywhere, or if they did they were kind of awkward. But this was not like that.”

“Good”

His eyes very obviously look you up and down, and he stops right at your core. “So can we keep going?”

“What would you like to do, Minnie?”

“I just wanna touch you, make you feel good.” Seungmin doesn’t wait for an answer before he moves close and wraps an arm around you. “Can I do that?”

The soft squeeze of his hand on your hip gets you going again—a warm throb in your stomach, your clit. “Yes, please.” Between your legs is still the mess the two of you made. You can feel his come dripping out of you, and when his finger slides down and gently pushes into your entrance, you feel yourself gush even more. Seungmin groans and sucks at the skin of your neck, then his thumb pushes up and slides right over your clit.

“Did I get it?” he asks when you whine in his ear, laughs. He does it again; rubs in soft little circles; pushes in and out, finding a good spot with his nimble fingers. “Tell me what you like.”

“I like—”

Seungmin looks at you so sharply. He needs to know exactly what you want, and he doesn’t need much direction, but you still slide your hand down and place it over his.

“I like you touching me”

He pulls out and slides two wet fingers between your folds, so slowly until he gets to your clit again. Your hips jump, and he smiles.

“You like this, right here…” he moves his fingers carefully, watching your face and listening to every little sound you make. “Nice and slow and light,” he sings. Seungmin isn’t asking, he’s just figuring it out as he goes.

It’s cute and it’s sexy; the way he is, and the way he talks to you. The combination is so deadly, and it’s one of the reason why he makes you feel the way he does.

Before everything, even the very first time you met him, you could tell he was special—not just the most beautiful face in a room full of beautiful faces. The way he looked at you, and the way he listened when you spoke. When you’d talk on the phone, go out for lunch, he always found a way to put you first and make you feel like the only person in the world.

“Yeah,” it comes out on your breath, “right there.”

You grip his forearm, but he doesn’t change a thing. Same speed, same pressure. And he adjusts as your hips roll into his hand. You’re going to come fast, too, just like he did. It’s already rising as you look at him, and looking at him is making it so much more. You’re not using a picture on your phone, or the photos pinned to the wall, and you're not listening to the cute voice messages he's left for you in the past—he’s right here, warm breath moving across your face, the sweet, sharp smell of his sweat, and just as you feel like you’re going to explode, his lips are on yours and your moan fills him up.

Your grip moves from his arm to his shoulder, then to his neck as he deepens the kiss. At the same time, a perfect, intense orgasm shakes you. His fingers move until you relax and let your hips fall back on the bed. Only then does he slow down, then stop.

“Seungmin”

You’re out of breath, and he’s still kissing.

“Minnie…Minnie, I need to catch my breath.”

He pulls back, looks at you, “sorry,” then kisses everywhere except your mouth. “How’s your lip?”

The pain in your lip eventually faded, and you forgot about it. It’s back now, throbbing away. “It’s okay…how does it look?”

“It’s a little swollen. More ice should help, I can get you some.”

“No, stay here with me”

“How about a bath, to clean up?” He looks down at the space between your legs. “We made a mess.”

“Only if you join me”

“Okay, I like my baths very hot, though”

“Yeah, me too”

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helloitstsyu · 7 months

Text

Confession | Pete "Maverick" Mitchell

My masterlist

Pairing : '86 Maverick x f¡reader

Summary : you have a crush on maverick, he notices. Maverick pushes you to confess.

Warnings: alluded smut. Mostly overall fluff.

Requested: by anon. Thanks for requesting i hope you enjoy!<3

Pete "Maverick" Mitchell.

What's to like about him? He's so full of himself and he doesn't follow the rules. He happens to be your instructor too, your commander. He is trouble. But that doesn't stop you from developing a crush on this cocky commander.

That's what you should've seen in the first place. Not his pleasing smile, amazing hair, and perfect eyes, or his impeccably hot exterior. Maverick is hot. He is damn hot. But the more turning weeks you spend in Top Gun near his presence, the more you notice what a gentleman that he actually is. And that.... made you fall even deeper for someone's out of your league.

The result of your uncontrolled emotion is that you find yourself insanely shy around him. You have no idea you can be that shy. But whenever he's around, you'd feel your heart double beating in times. Perhaps you're so scared that he'd notice, or perhaps you're too afraid to make a fool of yourself in front of him.

"Mayday, mayday, we got fuck me eyes in the area," Dingle, your RIO whispers to you.

"Gosh, Dingle!" You slap his back as he laughs contentedly.

Dingle's the only one who knows about your crush on the instructor. You didn't tell him of course, he figured it out. He said it's obvious since you acted so differently around Maverick.

"The hell are you talking about?" you play dumb and act as if it weren't true.

"Come on, Pep, you're so caught right-handed."

Looking back straight up, Maverick is across the room playing a game of pool with another naval aviator. He bends down, eyes straight and sharp as he aims for the ball to the pocket. Your eyes follow the lengths of his arms. His toned arms... your gaze just involuntarily follows the veins on his arms. Maverick then takes his shot. He hit the nail on the head, he perfectly nailed the shot. Gosh, he even makes playing pool look so hot, he makes everything look so hot.

You shake your head and palm your face. "This is getting worse, Dingle.."

"Just tell him, take your shot, Pepper," Dingle tells you.

You shake your head. The idea of telling him that you have a crush on him always makes your stomach flip. How could you? You couldn't even stare at him right in the eyes for too long.

You take a deep breath and leave a heavy sigh. "What is wrong with me?!" You ramble.

"What's wrong with you?" The voice that you're far too recognized speaks.

You reopen your eyes to find Maverick comes to you and Dingle. You widen your eyes slightly at Dingle, cursing him non-verbally to not warning you that Maverick is coming in your way.

"Something's wrong with you, Pepper? Is everything alright?" Maverick asks with concern in his eyes. He reaches out his hand to hold your arm, showing the emphaty he feels as he practically asks you whether you're okay.

"Uh... excuse me, i need to go to the toilet." Dingle says.

You quickly turn your head to him. Beg with your eyes to not leave you alone with Maverick cause god knows you couldn't comprehend it alone.

"Sir..." Dingle politely nods to Maverick before leaving us be.

Maverick looks back at you, "Uh... I'm–I'm okay, sir."

"Yeah?" Maverick skeptically wonders about your answer. Out of nowhere, an unreadable slight smirk appears on his face. "You don't really sound sure..." he smiles mischievously.

"Uh..." you chuckle awkwardly, looking down at the floor rather than back at his green eyes. "I'm sure,"

You glance back to his face. "Thanks for checking in, though, sir." You smile then eyes away from him again. You already feel your heart thumping.

Maverick purses his lips and nods. "Okay.... okay, if you say so,"

You nod. "Well... do you want to play po—"

"I'm actually-- not really feeling okay. Maybe i had too much beer... could you excuse me, i-imma go back to base." You cut Maverick before he could've finished what he's trying to say.

You stand up from your stool, and stupidly you stumble on your own feet. Maverick's quick to catch you before you fall. You look up to his face. His face stays inches above yours. You have never been this close to him. Feels like your heart is about to beat out of your chest.

"Oohh... careful," he casually says. So casually like it means nothing to him.

You stand up straight to your own feet again. Awkwardly laugh it off. "T-thanks... um, goodnight, sir." You walk hastily out the door.

-------

"Pepper," Maverick calls you out just after you rise from your seat. You've seen this coming, especially after that near hit you did earlier.

"Do you mind staying behind? I'd like a word," he says.

You exchange a look with Dingle. But eventually you wait till the last person is out of the room, leaving you and Maverick behind. You walk up to him. "Sir?" You ask.

Maverick walks around his table and sits on the edge of it, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "What happened?" He asks, his eyebrows knitting together.

You look down from his intense gaze, shaking your head, "I lost control of—"

"No, I'm not asking you that," he interjects. "What. Happened?" He emphasizes the question.

"We talked about what went wrong technically. But what happened? You never step out of your game." Maverick asks solemnly calm. The way he should've been furiously mad kind of making you more nervous.

"I.... i lost focus,"

"You lost focus?" Maverick repeats, eyebrows raising.

"I.... I'm sorry, sir. I-it won't happen again,"

"Lost focus.. you jeopardize your team's safety, your RIO's life."

You look down. Embarrassed by your failure. "I know, sir. My apology."

"You lost focus.." Maverick sighs, "So where was your focus? What's so important that clouded your mind, Lieutenant?"

Beat. You feel like you're pushed to the corner, checkedmate. How can you answer that? That your mind replays the scene of last night when Maverick touches you. When his face stays inches above yours?

"Uh.... um..." you stutter.

Maverick smiles mischievously, "Cat got your tongue, Lieutenant?"

"I-it's nothing, sir."

"Nothing? I don't buy it." Maverick thinly smiles.

Maverick walks towards you slowly. "Eyes on me, Lieutenant." He orders with such authority in his voice yet still sounds soft.

You feel your palm starts sweating, heart racing.

Maverick smirks. "What got your focus..?" He asks as he walks towards you ever so softly. Making the room feels a drop temperature hotter. "Or... rather.. who?".

"I- i- uh...." You feel your lips trembling so you bite on them.

His eyes drop to witness the scene. "You.... what?" He mutter, eyes locked to your lips. That made your knees limp, you feel like you're about to pass out.

He keeps taking a step closer to you till there's no more room, and he's invading your personal space. You could feel the warmth of his breath fanning to your lips. His eyes look deeply into yours, like he's digging onto you. Your chest heaves. And the closeness of him makes you dizzy. "Y/N," his voice calls you back into reality. Maverick softly grazes his fingers over yours.

You couldn't think clearly with him in mere inches away from you. So the next thing out of your mouth just slipped before you caught yourself. "I have a crush on you." You breathlessly confess.

Maverick's smile slowly can not be attained. The way he says nothing and just smiles there sends you into an anxiety loop, so you ramble on stupid things all at once. "I- i know it's stupid. I'll–I'll get over it. I shouldn't have—" Maverick slipped his hand behind the nape of your neck and just shut you up with his lips seal to yours.

It surprises you at first but, you feel your soul leaves your body. You close your eyes and just sink into him.

Once he breaks away the kiss, your mind buzzes from the after impact of it. Reopening your eyes again, you meet the heavenly greens of his eyes and his perfect smile. "I knew," Maverick retorts softly.

"You're not so hard to read, Pepper,"

You chuckle. Feeling your cheek already burning. "This is a dream," you mutter.

Maverick grins. "Well, Y/N, tell me... can your dream feel this?" Maverick presses his lips to yours again. Hand circling around you and bring you closer to him while the other keeps holding the nape of your neck.

With your body completely pressed to his. Hands to each other's body, and tongue starts colliding in a passionate rhythm, you didn't bother to think whether this is real or not. Even if it's a dream, you want it to last because Maverick tastes like a pure ecstasy. The moment he takes a step forward, pushing you back till you find yourself presented against a table. Any moral misgivings have left the room, and both of you are hurrying to have more taste of each other. Maverick grabs your jaw, set your face aside to have access to your neck. He kisses your neck, starts soft, then gradually picks up his pace. He sucks and nibs the sensitive skin, traveling all around, finding your one spot that got you ticking.

"Maverick..." You whimper.

The exit out of this is already too far. None of you both can stop the overdriving temptation. Your fingers grip on his shoulders. The more he sucks and nibs, the more heat you feel in between your legs. You keep pulling him closer as if there's any gap left. You could feel his hard on pressing onto your center, that sends your mind even more rattling than before. You try to hold back your moans but find yourself helplessly to do so.

His hand explores all your body. Groping your breast from outside of your suit. He's moments away from unzipping your flight suit but a distraction come, and you both hear a dim voice of the Admiral coming.

Quickly, Maverick leaps off you, just in time for Admiral Caine opening the door. Still with ragged breath, you hold onto the ledge of the table for dear life, your mind still buzzing from the pleasure seconds ago.

"Sir," Maverick stands up straight and slightly nods at the admiral. He's so unbothered as if nothing has happened just seconds ago. While you're still.... trying to compose yourself.

Admiral Caine looks at the both of you. Something must've pass his mind because you could see the skeptically in his eyes. But he knock it off and instead calls Maverick for a word.

Maverick glances at you before leaving the room without saying any words. The moment the door slams close, that's when you truly can breathe.

Dreams do always stop whenever it's getting good.

#tom cruise #tom cruise x reader #tom cruise fanfiction #tom cruise smut #pete maverick mitchell #tom cruise fic #tom cruise x female reader #top gun maverick #pete mitchell x reader #maverick imagine #top gun imagine #maverick x reader #maverick fanfic #maverick smut #maverick fluff #jake hangman seresin #bradley bradshaw imagine

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phantasmiac · 1 year

Text

in which touya is your best friend’s older brother

cw/tw: fem!reader, reader is in college, make out scene, nothing else i think

wc: 2.9k

a/n: obsessed with my own au. part two can be found here.

from middle school to high school, you and the two eldest todoroki children had followed the same 8AM-3PM schedule, eating the same assigned lunches and traveling in and out of the same building. but it wasn’t until your second year of high school that they really became aware of your existence, after you and fuyumi began volunteering at the same local daycare center. you vividly recall her flushing a deep shade of red that matched the streaks in her hair when you’d told her you were in the same year, and having to repeatedly assure her that she hadn’t upset you. it was an honest truth; not once had you been put in the same class, and you yourself couldn’t name one person outside of your own — with the exception of the todoroki siblings. it was impossible to be unfamiliar with the two when their popularity was so overwhelming. fuyumi, for her beauty, intelligence, and tenderhearted demeanor, and touya, mostly for his delinquent behavior. there’d been a few fleeting instances over the years where you’d fallen under the same spell as your classmates; the one that glued their eyes to the hot troublemaker just a grade above you. but they were just that — fleeting.

you’re not sure what was contaminating the air inside of the todoroki household the first time you came over; only that it had infected you with a certified school girl crush on your best friends older brother. every interaction with him left your heart flapping it’s dainty little wings. being fuyumi’s best friend, and spending as much time over as you did, granted you access to exclusive perks. “perks” such as the offhand, sarcastic comments you were now susceptible to; ones that weirdly drew you in instead of putting you off. you were able to see him doing things other than smoke on top of the bleachers from the window of your after-school prep classes, or beat up some random upperclassman in the middle of the hallway. watching him play the guitar, obliterate everyone at shogi, and tend to the garden plants was quite the change of scenery. if feeling special was a crime, you were guilty beyond a reasonable doubt, though you’re sure your classmates would too if they’d experienced the feeling of touya peeking at your homework over your shoulder and “obnoxiously” whispering the answer into your ear.

it was just your luck that the very same virus had to go and infect little 13 year old natsuo and make you his target. little natsuo who would stammer and blush and make a complete fool out of himself whenever you were around. little natsuo who once noticed you while playing soccer with shouto and touya in the yard, and got smacked in the face with the ball in the process (you’ll never let him live it down). little natsuo who singlehandedly destroyed your hopes and dreams of ever getting touya to look at you differently. because once the eldest todoroki sibling caught on, he refused to let it go. he’d gone as far as to create a ship name for the two of you, one that even shouto — always craving his big brothers approval — had started using. your eye twitched every time he would refer to you as natsuo’s girlfriend. it went without saying that the whole thing was just one big, running joke. but natsuo’s feelings were real, and you knew touya would rather stick his hand in a blender than break his little brothers heart — that is, if he ever even saw you that way in the first place.

touya graduates at the end of your second year, declaring he’s taking a “gap year” and moves out to live with a friend of his; the shy one you’d met a few times and bonded with over animal crossing once. rei permits it without much of a fuss, grateful that it’s tenko and not one of those “awful influences” he used to hang around at school (though you always suspected tenko had a secret wild side, too). he visits occasionally, still acting like he never left, but his overall absence allows you to finish your final year without the distraction of silly little feelings consuming you. you pride yourself on how well you’ve managed to suppress it all, just to feel like a complete liar on every single one of his visits, when he tugs on your hair and scares you from behind as a greeting like some grade schooler with a crush. by the time touya’s gap year ends, you and fuyumi begin your first semester of college, and rei has grievously accepted that her son is not planning on getting a degree.

a week prior to your winter break, you’re asked out by a guy in one of your gen-ed classes as you’re leaving with fuyumi. although touya doesn’t immediately come to mind, and the guy seems decent enough, you feel compelled to turn him down. it’s fuyumi’s elbow nudging into your back as she attempts to appear busy on her phone that gets a “sure” out of you. that friday, you find yourself sitting at the theaters watching a newly released horror movie next to a guy you haven’t batted an eyelash at other than the one time both you and fuyumi had missed a powerpoint slide. it’s then that touya — who you haven’t seen in nearly three weeks — comes to mind, for two particular reasons: a) because this is the type of thing he’d definitely put on after intruding on your and fuyumi’s movie night and b) because this is kind of a weird first date, but you’re sure it wouldn’t be as bad (or bad at all, for that matter) with him.

the following night, you’re at the todoroki household to help them get things sorted for the winter break trip you’ll be tagging along for. touya has finally reappeared and is uselessly laying in starfish position on fuyumi’s bed as you hand her clothes to fold into her suitcase. he’s rambling on and on about his recent whereabouts and his plans to start a tattoo apprenticeship, to backpack across europe, and to start a band, and a bunch of other things that he’ll probably forget about in a few months. even though half of what he’s saying is nonsense, he sounds so enthusiastic, you can’t help but smile and nod along. fuyumi scolds you to stop encouraging him, which he rolls his eyes at before asking, “anyways, what’s going on with my sister in law?”. natsuo has just recently gotten into his first real relationship with his first real girlfriend, so you’re ready to correct him until —

“nuh-uh! not your sister in law anymore. i mean, unless you count our marriage,” fuyumi intercepts. “she scored herself a boyfriend this week. oh my gosh, i didn’t even ask you how your date went!”

the clothes are long forgotten as fuyumi shakes you violently by the shoulders, and you don’t have time to explain that the date went nowhere before touya is mumbling something about “not wanting to hear this crap” and leaving the room. the next day, touya brings home a girl for the very first time. seeing her makes you realize that you’ve never put much thought into what touya’s type might be like. the girl standing before you is sweet and effortlessly beautiful, able to make a casual outfit look dressy. you don’t question how strange it is that he would choose to introduce her to his family the day before a trip, or the fact that he doesn’t outright call her his girlfriend. you’re much too focused on the way she constantly leans into him, and shamefully flitting your eyes away when he looks up at you like he knows you’re watching. you will yourself not to shed any tears as you lay beside fuyumi that night, thinking about how his absence in the last three weeks must have been because he was spending them all with her.

the car ride to the log cabin you’ll be staying at for the week is spent stuck between the window and shouto, who’s going ham on some game on his ipad (you hate to admit how entertaining it is to watch), and shooting lasers into the back of touya’s head through the gap in the headrest. there’s a few times your eyes meet through the passenger side window, but instead of pulling a face like usual, he looks away. whether your nausea is a result of motion sickness or emotional distress, there’s no telling. by the time you reach the cabin, the moon is out and the stars are littering the sky, offering just a bit of light that peaks through the towering trees and helps with the unloading of the trunk. upon settling in your rooms, rei announces that she’s going straight to bed. you can already hear shouto and natsuo’s voices coming from their own rooms; shouto playing with his little green haired friend and natsuo talking to his girlfriend. fuyumi, always so productive, immediately gets to unpacking her suitcase — an activity you have little interest in.

it was the promise of a hot tub that got you to come on this trip in the first place, and you weren’t going to let the night deter you from your wish. fuyumi insists that tomorrow is promised as you carelessly dig through your luggage for a swimsuit, but you don’t budge. you curse your stubbornness when you head down to the back porch to find the hot tub lit up, bubbling, and occupied. you’re met with the sight of a bare back that’s more built than the last time you’d seen it. touya’s lack of acknowledgment of your presence deceives you into turning your heel for an attempt at a silent escape; a silence that is soon shattered by the sound of swashing water, and then touya’s voice: “i don’t, bite you know.” it’s with reluctance that you turn back to face him. his arms are dangling off the side of the tub, his chin propped at the edge. “i wouldn’t put it past you,” you quip back.

you don’t think the lack of conversation is nearly as awkward for touya as it is for you. he’s been staring at the water, unblinking, for the past five minutes (months, for you), chewing on his lip pensively like something magical might bubble to the surface. your eyes, on the other hand, have been scanning every area of the premises for something that might save you. the woods are pitch black with the exception of the porch lights. maybe you could bring up how scary it is out here? no, you don’t want to come off as a wimp. the skiing plans for tomorrow? no, that’s lame. how about his girlfr —

“is it okay if i kiss you?”

the sudden jolt of your body causes a big splash that manages to hit both you and touya in the face. if he’d lost his mind, the water should have been enough to startle him and set it straight. instead, he wipes a hand down his face and continues to look at you expectantly for your answer. you’re incapable of offering it to him in words; so you wade your way across the tub to where he’s sat, kneeling in front of him as an invitation. perhaps it was silly to assume he was asking for a simple, chaste peck, but the arm that hooks itself around your waist and pulls you forward elicits a gasp out of you nonetheless. but it’s nothing compared to the thrill you feel when both of his arms move to grab your thighs, effectively hoisting you up and getting you to straddle him. not once in any of your fantasies had you imagined being on top of touya, but you think the reality is much more satisfying. it’s hard to say who makes the first move, seeing as you’re both hungry for the same thing. your fingers are digging into touya’s cheeks, and his onto yours in a different area. you’ve been told countless times that your first time making out wouldn’t be a scene out of a movie. but somehow, touya’s lips and tongue guide you in a way that makes you look and feel like you’ve been doing this for years.

it’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of and more, excluding the sound of fuyumi’s “oh my god!” ringing in your ear. she’s standing at the slide doors with her hands covering her eyes, nearly tripping over her own feet. instantly, you rip yourself away from her older brother and shoot out of the water, scrambling for an explanation. she shouts something about waiting for you up in the room before nearly colliding face first with the glass doors. you don’t bother to look at touya’s reaction as you exit the tub and quickly snatch a towel, nor at rei, now wide awake and frantically and asking what’s wrong as you zoom up the stairs. you waste no time in profusely apologizing to fuyumi, who’s now laying flat on the bed with her head dug into a pillow. the thought of your friendship coming to an end has your voice shaking and tears forming in your eyes. the sound gets fuyumi to set the pillow aside and smile at you softly.

“i’m not angry. i just wish i hadn’t had to see that with my own two eyes,” she laughs, hands holding yours. “but i am a little confused as to why you’d wanna be with my gross old brother of all people. i thought that other guy was a catch.”

it’s hard to identify whether the sound that leaves you is a sob or a laugh, but you allow yourself fall into fuyumi’s arms in relief. she spends the rest of the night interrogating you, and then singlehandedly planning out your future wedding.

touya actively avoids you for the rest of the trip, opting out of all the planned activities in exchange for staying holed up in his room until hunger strikes and forces him down to the kitchen. you try not to be hurt by his behavior, disregarding it as him being embarrassed at being caught by his little sister. that assumption is proved wrong when he has multiple interactions with her, while acting as if you don’t exist. of course, fuyumi attempts to get an explanation for you, but she always comes back with the same response: “he said he’s not going to talk about it with me”.

on the last day of the trip, you tag along with natsuo and shouto for a day of ice skating, fuyumi staying behind to get a head start on some assignments. it was just yesterday that you’d suddenly remembered the girl touya had brought over, and come to the conclusion that the reason he must have been avoiding you is because he’d cheated, and the guilt was eating him alive. it didn’t matter how hard fuyumi insisted that her brother would never sink so low, and that he’d never said she was his girlfriend. you were now certain you were the other woman, and staying in the house was driving you mad.

the three of you are sat outside the rink, rental skates in hand. you’re focused on tying up your own as shouto makes repeated calls of his brother’s name, each call being ignored and becoming more irritated by the second. natsuo is glued to his phone, typing away and smiling like a fool, shouto’s pokes at his puffer jacket going completely unnoticed.

“jesus, natsu,” you roll your eyes, punching him on the arm with enough force to get his attention. “shouto’s been calling your name for ages.”

“sorry! i’m texting my girlfriend.”

you chuckle as you kneel down to attend to shouto’s neglected skate laces. “you didn’t even have to say. when are you gonna bring her over? you know, like touya.”

the last part definitely could have been left out, and said in a less bitter tone, but it gets natsuo to quirk his eyebrow in confusion. “that girl from last week? i don’t even know why touya brought her over. he complains about her to me all the time. says she has an annoying crush on him,” he mumbles.

the strength required to keep down the grin threatening to form at his revelation is downright shameful, though the satisfaction doesn’t last long. because if touya doesn’t have eyes for someone as stunning as her, where does that place you? you know it’s sneaky of you to take advantage of natsuo’s obliviousness, but with the way things are going with touya, you know he’s the closest you’ll get to some answers.

“that’s too bad. she was really pretty.”

“yeah, well, i don’t think i’ve ever heard touya call anyone pretty.”

“i have,” shouto speaks up from under the confinements of his wool scarf. he winces when you unconsciously tighten his laces a little too hard at his statement.

natsuo looks at him like he’s been shot. if touya was going to gush about someone he was sure it’d be to him. “when? who? where?”

“he didn’t tell me. i just heard him, once, when his friends were over. they were talking about girls and stuff, and they were making fun of him. because he never liked anyone. and then he got all mad and started yelling that he did like someone.”

“when was this?” natsuo probes on, phone now long forgotten.

“his second year, i think. it was before fuyumi met you,” shouto points a gloved hand at you.

high school touya never showed an interest in anyone; it was one of the reasons everyone believed they had a chance. your jealousy has now been replaced with sincere curiosity, an eagerness that reflects natsuo’s.

“do you remember their name?”

shouto nods nonchalantly, completely oblivious to the fact that he has you and natsuo on the edge of your seats.

“i never said anything because i thought it had to be another person with the same name after he started making fun of you and natsu.

but it was your name.”

#dabi x reader #dabi #dabi drabble #dabi headcanons #dabi imagine #dabi x y/n #dabi angst #dabi fluff #dabi fanfic #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki #touya x reader

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juunobox · 8 months

Text

──★ ˙ ̟ "PERFECT TIMING!"

you're nikolai's intimate friend (nikolai gogol x gn! reader) and he wants to 'free' you

summary : you're nikolai's friend and he wants to give you a taste of freedom (which of course means, he wants to kill you) ur like fyodor to him in this fic, kinda warnings : implied mental disorders, graphic depictions of violence, suicidal ideation, assisted suicide. you have a complicated relationship w him please do not take this seriously, fr i wrote this for coping purposes lol and sorry if it's kinda OOC this is the first ever nikolai x reader i wrote... dont beat my ass and english isnt my native i suck at grammar

Your days has always been mundane. You woke up and work on your laptop all day, then go back to sleep. However, there was a moment when your days became a bit more colorful, thanks to Nikolai's presence. He's an eccentric man who dressed like a clown and spoke theatrically. How did you meet someone like him in the first place? That's a story for another day.

With the time you both had, usually in the evening, he had developed a habit of visiting your place. By that hour, you'd be done with your day job, and you'd have the time to focus all your attention on him. It started as something casual, but as time went by, the two of you realized just how much you understood each other, at least to some extent.

His philosophy about freedom. The belief that being human itself is akin to being in a prison, it speaks to you. And the moment you expressed to him that you too shared the same belief, something changed between you two.

“Because you’re my…

Dear, intimate friend.”

He was fun to spend time with, so much so that it made you forget that he's a terrorist, a member of DOA. He brought colors to your uneventful, colorless life, and you didn't understand why.

“I guess you're sane in an insane way, Kolya.”

The clown laughed at the way you worded it. “Hilarious way to put it, [y/n]! You’d make for a talented comedian. You shouldn’t let this talent of yours go to waste! Don’t you think so?”

You sighed at his remark. “I’m way too anxious to do that. I can't stand in front of the stage and speak in theatrics like you do.” You eyed him playfully, and he giggled at that.

“Is that so? My dear friend can't handle the stage? How adorable, you’re intimidated by your own kind!” He scooted closer and cupped your chin in his hand. Your cheeks warmed up a bit at his touch, and you attempted to hide it. “You talk as if you're not a human yourself,” you said in return.

Nikolai’s grin grew even wider at your comment. “But I am one, I am a perfectly sane human being.” He tilted your head slightly to the side as he leaned even closer, his hot breath caressing your cheek. You swallowed nervously and darted your gaze away, unable to bring yourself to meet the silver haired clown's mismatched eyes.

And then he kissed you. It was a tender, loving kiss. Nikolai attempted to deepen the kiss, but you managed to push him away. He didn't try to force himself on you; however, he simply stared down at you with a smile. A smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

“Did you just kiss me? What was that even for?”

“Because… I’m looking for an answer.”

“What?”

“I’m looking for an answer.”

You didn't quite understand what he meant at that moment.

This wouldn’t end well, you knew it. Yet, you couldn't resist him.

The relationship between you two was something that words couldn't quite explain. You two weren’t exactly lovers, but you weren’t exactly friends, either. An undefined one, dancing between the lines of friendship and romance. But did you want it to end? Of course not. You never questioned it, despite the uncertainty gnawing at you.

You had always been good at hiding your emotions after all, or at least, that's what you think. Good at fooling others into believing that you were okay when you were not, because you felt far too shameful to express them freely. You beat yourself up inside your head. You couldn't feel things normally, you either feel nothing or everything at once. It's too much. Nauseating. You hated those feelings. But one day, at the worst possible moment, the clown appeared before you. As you were grappling with your breakdown, you found yourself pouring out your thoughts and feelings to him. Nikolai was present with his vacant facet, silently listening to every word.

"I just want to be free. I hate feeling things. I hate this. I hate everything. I want everything to stop!" Your voice was laced with desperation, and you continued, "If I had a gun, I probably would've done it already. I'm so tired of all of this. My mind is telling me to stop, but I can't do it! I keep doing it, I can't stop myself. I wish my body would just give up. All the things I've done to my body, I've tried inflicting all sorts of damage to it, yet somehow, the heart still tries to beat, and so I remain alive."

In the midst of your distraught state, Nikolai's face held sympathy for a moment. He approached you and pulled you into a tight embrace. He didn't say anything, he kept silent— only his grip gradually tightening as if he wanted to crush your pain away.

—

Just like any other evening, you were in your room with Nikolai. He had brought you something new - a small variety of Ukrainian sweets. He said he wanted you to taste a piece of his homeland. It was unusual because Nikolai had never brought you food before despite his frequent visits, but he seemed eager, so you decided to show your appreciation by giving it a try.

In mere minutes, your stomach began to twist and turn, forcing you to curl up in pain at the edge of the bed. “Aren’t you going to help me?" you cried out, struggling to make sense of the situation.

"...."

"Oh, wait." "You're not going to help me because you intended to do this, right?” You managed to say as you writhed in agony.

Nikolai seemed momentarily disconnected from reality but soon snapped out of it and burst into laughter. “Oh, dove! Does it hurt? Yes, you’re a smart one, aren’t you? I did slipped a liiittle bit something into this dessert,” he placed his own food aside and peered over you. “But I didn’t use enough to kill you, what do you think!” He exclaimed loudly in his usual antics. You always thought you understood him, but there were moments when you couldn’t quite wrap your head around his thinking. This was one of those moments.

“After all we've been through, you’re trying to kill me now?”

For a moment, the silver-haired man appeared taken aback. “Why do you ask? That's precisely why I want to kill you. To prove my freedom. Don't you yearn for the same?”

"You wish to be liberated from your emotions, don't you?"

It didn’t take long for you to grasp the meaning of that. You both shared the same understanding, after all. That emotions made you feel imprisoned, but you never thought Nikolai would express it this way. Before you could respond, he continued.

“Because you’re my... intimate friend… it pains me to witness your struggle to break free, just as I am.” He mumbled, his eyes empty and distant. “You’re my dove. My dearest. My angel.” By each words spoken, his voice turned softer, and he sounded genuine for once.

After a trail of endearment terms rolled off his tongue, you spoke. “Perfect timing,” you whispered, managing a grin despite the aching pain in your stomach.

“Then, why don’t we find freedom together, Kolya?”

—

"Nikolai,” you whispered, caressing his cheek. You knew this would be the last time you'd see him. “How do you feel right now? You look happy. If you were to look in the mirror, your grin is so wide I didn't even know someone could smile like that.

“Hahahahahaha! I am indeed feeling ECSTATIC!” He pulled colorful balls out of his coat, along with a couple of knives, and began juggling them in his hands. “Now, it's time for a quiz! Which weapon will I use to end your life? I have knives, guns, bombs, oh, a wide variety of choices! This is going to be super thrilling! So exciting that words couldn’t do justice!” You could only manage a faint chuckle at this. “All of those weapons, because you like torturing people to death. Right?”

Nikolai took a couple of steps closer to you, continuing to speak in his theatrics. “Ding dong! You are—” He reached for a small knife and aimed it at your throat. “WRONG! You're wrong! Thought you answered that right, didn't you?! Gotcha!” He giggled to himself, his eyes not leaving your figure as his other hand reached into his overcoat, pulling out another knife.

“Because you are my dear friend, [y/n], I will grant you the honor of receiving special treatment. I'll make it quick for you because I want you to be free as quickly as possible!”

You had agreed to Nikolai taking your life.

You saw it as a two-way street, a mutual exchange. He could attain the sense of freedom he so desperately sought, and you could be liberated from your thoughts, emotions, and feelings.

Your miserable existence.

“Ready to take off, my dear?” Nikolai questioned, his grin stretching from ear to ear. He was smiling, but it appeared more like a manic one, instead of genuine happiness. It made you wonder what sort of expression you were wearing. A whirlwind of emotions are surging within you.

You are going to die. In Nikolai’s hands.

Slowly, you nodded. “I am.” Nikolai's grin widened even further, it appeared almost unsettling. Before you could utter another word, Nikolai had already plunged two knives deep into your chest. Your eyes widened, and you collapsed to the ground. Nikolai swiftly straddled you, and he didn't cease his stabbing. “Scream! Shout! Let me hear your cry of freedom, granted by the great Gogol himself! Hahahaha!” Laughter consumed him as he continued to relentlessly stab your neck and chest.

The pain was unbearable, but you couldn’t quite scream properly. Everything happened so quickly. Only disjointed sounds escaped your lips, drowned out by Nikolai's increasingly intense laughter as he continued to stab you.

"Freedom! Oh, this is what I've been searching for! I feel nothing!" He yelled hysterically. His mismatched eyes locked onto yours, your vision starts to blur, yet you could still see Nikolai wearing the same grin and glaring eyes. "My dear friend! Tell me! You feel free as well, just as much as I do right now, correct? Don't let my effort in killing you be in vain! You are free! Free from that prison you've been in! Say yes! Say yes!" He continued his rapid speech, almost matching the rhythm of the stabs.

Feeling your body growing cold, you could only muster a faint smile in response, sensing your blood seeping from your chest and neck. It felt oddly calming. The pain had lessened. Your body turned colder and colder, but the blood oozing from your wounds felt warm.

With the last bit of your strength, you managed to touch his cheek. You weren't sure if it was a hallucination or not, but Nikolai appeared to flinch in surprise when your hand made contact with his skin. Your body temperature was plummeting rapidly.

“...Kolya..” you managed to croak out, before closing your eyes and falling limp.

The floor was now painted red. The silver-haired clown’s once monochrome attire had almost turned crimson; stained with your own blood. There was a moment of silence, so profound that Nikolai could hear his own breathing. But then his breathing quickened, and his smile broadened once more.

“Hahaha!” He laughed out loud, “Oh! My dear friend is finally free now!” He picked up his knife again and lunged over your lifeless body. You were no longer breathing, but Nikolai continued to stab you. “The freedom we've desperately sought! Liberated from this thing called brainwashing!” The clown's eyes remained wide with trembling irises, an impression of madness. Unlike before, his voice now bore a subtle crack, as his gestures also became unsteady.

The same expression remained on his face, but tears started streaming down his cheeks. Nikolai seemed unaware of his own tears. “My dear friend! Tell me that I've achieved this freedom! You can confirm it because you understand me, right? You're the only one who understands me, after all!” His tone grew almost frantic, and his voice continued to break with each word. He pulled the knives from your chest and threw them aside, squeezing your cold, lifeless hand tighter in his warm ones.

“Because you’re… my dear friend… and you’re the only one who understands me…”

#vent writing #nikolai gogol x reader #bsd x reader #bsd x gender neutral reader #nikolai x you #cw violence #nikolai bsd x reader #nikolai gogol bsd #nikolai bsd

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vampyrsm · 2 years

Text

'you come here often?' (4.1k) izuku midoriya x female reader

warnings: roleplaying, semi-public sex (bathroom sex at a club), alcohol, praise, fingering (f!receiving), mirror sex, unprotected sex, clothed sex, size difference/kink (i can't help it, i like my men big), creampie.

➼ 'kinktober 2022 masterlist'

You didn't do this often.

What with being so busy with work, and everything else. You didn't ever really find the time spare to spend a night to yourself, just letting your hair down and slipping into one of your shorter dresses. It was definitely a rare occasion but you weren't going to let it slip from between your fingers. Tonight was about you, and you were going to be on the prowl for something... fun.

How long had it been since you took someone home with you after a night out? Far too long. And tonight that changed, as you let the throb of the bass in your chest guide each and every one of your movements, head free and empty of any thoughts that involved work. It was a busy night tonight at the club you picked, many bodies pressed tight together, all moving together in unison to whatever song that pumped through the speakers.

And when you reopened your eyes, strobe lights flickered to create the illusion as if time had slowed down but you couldn't take your eyes off of the man who was leaning back against the bar, elbows propping himself up whilst his eyes seemed to track your own movements. He was massive, features hidden by the strobing bright lights until a rogue green strobe bounced across his face and you swore his eyes were glowing the most beautiful verdant green, like electricity.

But when the next flicker of white strobes went off, he was gone. Your eyebrow quirked as you gave a quick glance around to see if you could spot the giant of a man but somehow he had just vanished. A shame really, you had thought maybe you found your target for the night. A man big enough to throw you around as if it were no effort on his behalf, as well as one who most definitely would have you yearning for more the morning after.

The next song came and went, and all the whilst you let the mysterious man slip to the back of your mind to be forgotten about as you sipped on the cocktail you had been nursing for the last hour or so. Many bodies slipped past you, hands lingering on your hips for a fraction of a second before they vanished only for the process to repeat until hands that were engulfing your waist had you finally opening your eyes to see who had grown brave enough to lay their hands on you.

A head ducked down over your shoulder, a firm body pressed hard against your back and effortlessly moving along with your own movements. Naturally, your head fell back against his shoulder, the muscles flexing beneath the movement and his hair tickled against your cheek the further he leaned in closer to your ear. "You come here often?"

You snort at the comment, it's very cliche, something he must have heard on a romcom or something but the alcohol swimming through your blood has you grinning like a lovesick fool, eyes no doubt glazed over with a needy type of lust. "Not my usual scene, no," you turn your head enough to speak directly into his ear over the loud music, and finally you get a glance of the green hair that brushed against your face when he nodded along with your words before he turned again to speak.

"That makes two of us," his voice is smooth, caressing your brain with the way he speaks with so much confidence and the warmth of his breath fanning against the sweat on your neck isn't helping you wade through the swamp that is your mind. "Though I suppose like me, you're not here for the music."

You feel the way his lips curl into a smile against your ear at the sound of your laughter, his hands continue to roam along your hips and down to the hem of the short dress you were wearing. He was bold, you had to give him that. "Oh yeah? How could you tell?" you challenge, purposely rolling your hips back against his own and you couldn't miss the way he groaned under his breath directly into your ear, puffing out a hot breath that had your eyes fluttering in desire.

You hadn't even got a good look at the man who was fiddling with the ends of your dress and grinding the chub in his jeans up against your ass. And yet, you wanted nothing more than for him to take you home, to show you a good time just to forget everything that happened in the week.

"Saw the way you were watching me from across the room," a jolt of excitement sparks up your spine, prompting you to finally spin around in his arms which he allows surprisingly easy. His shoulders roll backwards when he stands back up to his full height, he had nearly a foot on you but he wasn't quite as imposing as you thought he might be.

Despite the fine structure of his face, the way his eyes were definitely flickering with a wisp of something electric and how the muscles in his arms would be enough to crush you if he got a hold of you—despite all of that, you felt no fear, no worry that maybe he was more trouble than he was worth. His smile was kind, features softer as he gazed down at you and he was stunning. The band of freckles across his face was hard to miss whilst he let the lights dance over his face.

Now facing him, you could feel just how hard he was against your stomach and yet it didn't show on his face that he was embarrassed or shy about it either. You grin finally at his words, his eyes dart down to your lips and he can't help but smile along with you, you're certain that must be his panty-dropping smile, it definitely has you squeezing your thighs together.

"You were definitely watching me first," you counter, and he shrugs with a look that says 'so what?', the boyish energy he's giving you is intoxicating.

"Maybe, couldn't help it with the way you were giving me a show."

"Oh, I was giving you a show?" you snicker, letting his hands pull you in tighter whilst his head ducks down into your space. Your eyes flutter at the closeness of his face, something sparks as familiar in your gut when you get a good close look at him but you can't quite put your finger on it—

"Yeah," he breathes, you hadn't even realised your lips were so close that you felt the word pass by his lips directly onto your own. His eyes bounced between your own, searching for something and he must've seen it when your hands curled into the side of his shirt, tugging on it as if you could move the mountain of a man. His lips pressed against your own, the fervour exploding between the two of you. He tasted of something bitterly alcoholic, not as sweet as the cocktail you had been drinking.

He also smelled intoxicatingly good, strong and musky but not so much so that it would have you choking on the smell. It was undeniably man, something that drew you in and had you itching to reach down and grab what was pressing painfully into your stomach. The sound of the music faded into nothing but a muffled background noise whilst your arm hooked around his neck, pulling him further down to your height as his lips moved against your own in tandem.

Your stomach flipped and dipped in excitement. Shamelessly you chased after his lips once he broke off first, a knowing smirk on his face each time he dipped his chin down to avoid your lips. It was teasing, playful and it had you playing easily into his hands. "Wanna get out of here?", you hadn't expected him to try it so early but you still were nodding along easily, glassy eyes watching how he smiled again before leaning down, laying a gentle kiss on your lips that seemed out of place given the moment.

He slipped a hand down to your own, large calloused fingers locking with your own before he turned to walk towards the exit but halted the second he felt you still not moving behind him. He turned, a confused look on his face as he watched the way you nervously chewed on your lip. "Gotta go the bathroom first," you say sheepishly, alcohol courage seeming to drain the second you spoke the words. But the man just nodded, effortlessly parting the way for the both of you as he guided you towards the long hallway that lead to the bathrooms.

Once free from the pulsing of the music and no longer squashed between sweaty bodies, you're both able to breathe for the first time that night and the tall man with green hair doesn't let your hand go until he's stood outside of the women's bathroom. Finally, he lets you go, watching you make haste into the bathroom, you spare a glance over your shoulder before the door closes. The off-white light of the bathroom light really helped you put a full picture of the man who was going to make or break your night, the butterflies swarmed tenfold when you caught the white of his teeth when he grinned at the way you were watching him.

Now with a clear head away from the strong musk of the mysterious man, you glance yourself over in the mirror and let the cool water from the sink run over your wrists to just try and ease off the erratic drum of your heart in your chest. The music was just a distant thump, but it felt like your head was still swimming. That man outside was heartbreakingly stunning, you had no doubt in your mind he must be a hero or something of the sort with the physique he had. That had you grinning to yourself in the mirror like some lunatic, eyes glittering at the fact a pro hero would look at you like that. Lady luck was definitely on your night tonight it seemed.

Not wanting to wait any longer you pulled open the door to see him still standing there, one foot propped up against the opposite wall whilst his arms were crossed over his chest and his head snapped to attention the second the door opened. But you couldn't find it in yourself to move forward, watching the way his eyes skimmed you up and down now that he could see you properly, how they lingered on your exposed thighs and slowly trailed up until they settled on your breasts. He was shameless, and yet you couldn't stop the way it made you feel—hot and fuzzy.

"Ready?" he said once he was in front of you, cutting you off from the outside world with just the broadness of his shoulders. You blinked up at him, trying to convey some sort of message to him, trying to tell him how badly you wanted him to fuck you.

And once again, luck was on your side as he grinned more wolfish than you had seen on his face before he's crowding you back into the bathroom, eyes darting to the open stalls to make sure no one else was in here with the two of you before he clicks the lock shut on the bathroom.

Now that you're in here alone, you're certain he can hear the pounding of your heart in your chest. He was impossibly big and so imposing, everything about him screamed strong and powerful. But nothing screamed at you to run when he had you pinned against the bathroom counter, marble painfully digging into your back as he loomed over you. The soft gaze in his eye was long gone and replaced with something deeper and darker, an indescribable lust that was primal.

His chest brushed against your own with every deep breath he pulled in, both of his hands now pressed against the counter on either side of you effectively making sure you had no escape. "You're so beautiful," he smirks at the way your eyelashes flutter at his sweet words, how you struggle to keep yourself up with the jelly in your legs. "Can't wait to ruin you."

You jolt at the force he kisses you, your back bending some more over the counter behind you until he bends down to hook both of his hands around the back of your thighs to hoist you up and onto the cool marble. All the whilst he bites and nips at your lips, begging you to let him into your mouth and you do without much of a fight. Your tongue meets his halfway in a smooth roll before he's pushing in further, stroking his tongue along your own and up over the roof of your mouth, flicking against the back of your teeth before he repeats the actions over and over. He's devouring you whole and you may just let him.

It was over far too soon for your liking, saliva coating your lips whilst his were smothered in a messy smear of lipgloss. His chest heaved, tongue darting out to taste the sweet strawberry that lingered there. You finally let your hands wander him for the first time that evening, stroking your fingers down along the expensive material of his shirt before you reached the hem of it. His eyes watched you with intense interest, to see your next move, to see if you were brave enough.

He fell into you easily when you tilted your head back, inviting him in for another long kiss. Once he was fully engrossed in sucking your tongue into his mouth did you let your hand wander beneath his shirt, you were definitely correct in thinking the man had to be a hero of some type. His stomach tensed at the warmth of your hand splaying out on his abs, feeling the multitude of ridges and dips, the long and deep scars that you're sure held some of the most exciting stories. You hope maybe you'd get another chance of hearing about them, but for now, you wanted what was lurking beneath his trousers.

The kiss stuttered when he had to take a gasping breath, eyes rolling to the back of his head when you ditched the effort to caress his stomach and went straight for groping his dick through his jeans, delicate fingers squeezing him as much as you could. "Careful, might end up fucking you right here." he groans through gritted teeth at the way you squeeze him again at the filth that spilt from his mouth.

"And what if I want that, Mr. Hero?" you smirked at the way he finally opened his eyes, a half-hearted glare meeting your teasing gaze.

"Izuku," he responds with and you furrow your brows together in confusion. "Call me Izuku, please."

"Okay, Izuku," he shudders visibly at the way you purr his name, hand working the fly and button of his jeans before you slip into the warmth of his boxers. "Gonna give me what I want?"

His chest heaves in shallow breaths, eyes drifting away from your own to see the hand buried in his boxers. You were stroking him so delicately, the tips of your nails barely scratching along the smooth velvet of his skin and along the throbbing vein, he was at breaking point and you seemed to notice that when you finally took him in your hand. It was still a tight squeeze but you still somehow managed to stroke him despite the restriction, your wrist rolling effortlessly as if you had done this a thousand times before.

"You asked for it," he groans before stepping back enough to cause your hand to slip free from his boxers and before you could complain, he's manhandling you off of the counter and bending you over it. You're forced to awkwardly hang over the sink, a hand pressed to the large mirror that covered the entirety of the wall and the other gripping the edge. "Wanted to take my time with you." he murmurs more to himself before there's warmth on the back of your thighs from both of his hands.

He shamelessly grabs and squeezes at your flesh, letting his hips roll against the roundness of your ass before his fingers slip upwards until your dress is bunched around your waist. The deep guttural groan has you clenching around nothing once he gets a good look at you, you had worn your favourite pair of lace panties tonight. They had no lines and well, they were sexy, and you were fully expecting to get laid.

"Oh, wow," he breathes, fingers grabbing at your ass to spread you wide for him and you feel yourself heating up at the compromising position, how he was letting his thumb brush up and down over the material between your ass cheeks before slipping down to press against your slit. "You definitely were hoping to get lucky tonight, huh?"

"Mhm," you reply, biting on your bottom lip, truly you wanted to give him a response back about how he was clearly the one looking for some tonight too with the way he was eyefucking you across the room before he had even approached you but you couldn't even think properly at this point. His fingers slipped under the lace at the top of your ass before he helped guide it down until they were loose around your ankles, caught on the intricate straps of your heels.

The tips of his fingers glide smoothly against your slit, dipping against your entrance teasingly before brushing back down to tap twice against your clit, each time causing you to jump. Izuku chuckles softly behind you, a little breathless as he gets lost in a smooth way his fingers stroke down along your cunt and back up again until he's slowly but surely pushing in two fingers at once. He figures time is definitely not on his side, considering the bathroom situation.

You moan at the stretch of just two fingers alone, unwillingly clenching around the digits in hopes of just holding them there deep inside of you. The fullness was intoxicating, and all your brain could supply was the possibility of what his cock must feel like. His wrist rolls smoothly, trained fingers angling slightly downwards against your walls whilst his thumb presses against your clit. The reaction was immediate, as he had hoped, your hips bucking back into his hips and forcing his fingers to rub delicately over the spongy spot deep inside of you.

"Izuku," you moan when he crooks his fingers again, tilting his head to watch your facial expressions in the mirror when he repeatedly taps his fingers against the spot that has your stomach twitching and thighs tensing up. "P-Please, shit, just fuck me already."

You miss the grin on Izuku's face as he watches your eyes flutter closed when he speeds up the movement of his fingers inside of you, your moans growing higher in pitch until you were completely silent except for panting breaths, lips parted in a pretty 'o'. Then suddenly his fingers are gone, you're violently jerked away from the orgasm he had nearly ripped from you and you try to glare at him through the mirror to which he just shrugs.

"You did ask for it," and his eyebrows raise when you ready yourself to speak back, to snip at the man who was playing with your orgasm for enjoyment before he's thrusting his cock into you in one fluid motion. You gasp before it rolls into a long moan, your hand tightens the grip it has on the marble counter whilst the other helps with pushing you back against Izuku to try and somehow take all of him inside of you deeper.

Izuku keeps his hands on your waist, fingers clutching at the fabric of your dress whilst his chin is dipped to his chest watching intently at the way he disappears into your slick cunt. "Shit," he groans finally, huffing out a breath he hadn't seemed to notice he was holding once his hips are flush with your ass. His hands move downwards, thumbs hooking either side of your ass to pull you apart for him, to see the way you clench around him fruitlessly to pull him in further. You were perfection, "Such a perfect pussy."

His thrusts are fluid after that, a practised movement that has both of your minds going blank. Just filled with the devotion to fuck one another into oblivion, to help each other reach their own slice of heaven. You finally look up into the mirror, just to see Izuku was already looking directly at you through the mirror and his eyebrows twitch, gaze hardening the longer he holds eye contact with you. His thrusts grow harsher, the slapping sound almost violent and the wet squelch of your cunt gushing around his cock is disgusting, downright filthy. Yet neither of you can think of that, not with the tension building between the two of you.

Izuku dips down slightly, a large meaty hand grabbing one of your thighs to bring up your leg to prop it against the counter and you have to remove your hand from the mirror to cover your mouth to smother the scream that wanted to escape. The angle was made to hit against your g-spot, to have your vision darkening around the edges and your mind a fuzzy blanket that shrouded you in a hazy warmth. "Cum for me angel," the pet name rolls off his tongue far too easily, and neither of you are able to unpack what that could mean whilst he fucks into you, fingers now swirling against your puffy clit that brings upon your rapture.

You squeal into your hand, sucking in a deep breath through your nose and your eyes roll back. The orgasm is a violent one, hitting you like a wave would against rocks, it has your walls squeezing and twitching around his cock trying to milk him for all he's worth whilst legs tremble, hips bucking up to try and get away from the hand that wouldn't give up on playing with your clit. "Good girl, you did so well for me."

"Gonna fill this pussy now, yeah? Gonna let me fuck you full of my cum?" he's rambling now, babbling on about how you'd look so good with his cum leaking from your sloppy pussy, you can't help but clench around him, Izuku's voice tapering off into a low groan and his hips thrusting a little more aggressively causing the edge of the counter to press harshly into your thighs, the angle is still just as head spinning now that he's fucking into you with the purpose to make himself cum.

And he does finally cum, the whine from his throat doesn't match the large frame that nearly curls over you from the force of his orgasm. His cock twitches ruthlessly against your walls, and each rope of cum feels thick and hot, coating you from the inside until you can feel it being pushed forcibly from around his cock and down along your thigh.

The air is quiet for a moment, just the intense breathing from the both of you before Izuku is the first to break the silence with a delicate kiss on your shoulder, then your neck. "I didn't go too far did I, angel?" his voice was different from the way he had spoken to you all evening, no longer a stranger but rather your boyfriend of four years.

You smile at him through the mirror, his eyes that gooey type that tells you he's spent. "No baby, you did good," he lays another kiss to your shoulder before he's pushing off of you and leaving you empty whilst he goes and grabs the toilet paper to clean up the mess between your thighs.

"Though you did nearly break character," you smirk at the wide-eyed look he gives you.

"I did? I didn't even notice."

You hum, nodding a little whilst shimmying your panties back up and turning to look up at Izuku with a dopey smile. "Yeah, called me angel when you wanted me to cum," and he somehow manages to blush, intensifying the freckles dotting his face and you can't help but laugh. The man was a big softie deep down.

"C'mon, let's go before someone breaks down the door or something." you pat his chest gently, turning towards the door and he's hot on your tail with a kiss to your head when you stop to check if the coast was clear.

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