#i want to go back to doing some more casual drawings because doing full scale pieces is exhausting and time consuming lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Text

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 7 - ao3 -

Lan Qiren woke up with a pounding headache and no memory of having gone to bed.

This would not have been a surprise had he been at home, as his routine was blissfully static and required no thought whatsoever – each item he needed in its proper place, each movement mapped out through years of practice, his entire body trained such that he would automatically begin to go through the necessary acts at the appropriate time and would immediately begin to feel sleepy once he started the sequence – but it was highly notable that such a thing would occur while he was out of the Cloud Recesses, where each day’s sleep would only be the same in terms of the time at which he fell asleep.

In this case in particular, he also felt sore all over – his head, as mentioned, but also his upper arms and, oddly, his right knee. Had he been exercising unwisely? The bed in the room he had been given at the Sun Palace was not that nice, too hard and unyielding, but it wasn’t enough to cause this sort of aching…

“I will see to it that the next bed lives up to your stringent standards.”

Lan Qiren’s eyes shot open and he sat upright at once: that was Wen Ruohan’s voice.

“What are you doing in my –” he started to say, then stopped.

Wen Ruohan was not in his bedroom.

He wasn’t in his bedroom.

He didn’t even recognize this bedroom.

It was massive, for one thing: a full suite, the way the hanshi was back at home, with place for a bed and a table and plenty more besides. The bed was similar in style to the one in the room he had been assigned but larger in scale – made of dark wood and covered in the red sun motif like all the other décor, but over twice as broad and an extra chi in length, and the brocade fabric used to upholster it was considerably more lush and luxurious and, admittedly, more comfortable than what he’d been sleeping on in the Sun Palace’s guest quarters. The room itself was the same, decorated in luxury extending to the point of opulence: there was a painting scroll on one wall that if genuine would be worth more than everything Lan Qiren owned put together, young master of a Great Sect or not, and on the other wall hung six swords, each more glorious than the next, and he suspected if he knew more about weaponry he would be able to recite their names. Even the red sun that was painted on every ceiling here glittered with embedded rubies and spiritual stones, emanating pure qi – a tremendous waste, each one of them sufficient to be a cultivation sect’s precious treasure.

Amidst all this luxury, Wen Ruohan was sitting not far away from the bed, a book held loosely in his hands – it was as if he’d been waiting for Lan Qiren to awaken.

“I think you’ll find, in fact,” Wen Ruohan said, and his eyes were glittering the way they had been the day before when it had been Lao Nie he’d been looking at, full of malice and self-indulgent amusement, “that this is my bedroom.”

This was not a surprise, but rather the only logical conclusion.

Not that it explained why Lan Qiren was here.

“Did I – fall asleep?” he asked uncertainly, though surely that must be the reason. “And you – brought me here?”

“You did, and I did,” Wen Ruohan confirmed, and seemed amused for some reason. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Lan Qiren wracked his brain, which was hurting and unhelpful and slower even than its usual plodding pace. “…I was thinking that liquor tastes vile.”

Wen Ruohan’s smile broadened. “Mm. It seems that you inherited your grandfather’s head for wine.”

Lan Qiren’s grandfather was one of the elders who refused to obey the rule against alcohol. He had also, in his later years, developed a most un-Lan-like fondness for wine.

He had not at any point developed a tolerance for it.

Lan Qiren closed his eyes in a wince. He must have made a complete fool of himself!

“This foolish junior apologizes to the Sect Leader for his misbehavior,” he said. He wanted to lift his hands to salute, but the movement, when he started it, set off his stomach, and he was forced to wrap his arms around his midsection instead.

There was a rustling sound, robes moving as Wen Ruohan rose to his feet, but Lan Qiren kept his eyes stubbornly closed, fearing that any further input would cause him to bring up everything he’d consumed the night before – only to open them in shock a moment later when he felt a finger press against the acupoint between his eyes, a warm stream of spiritual energy pouring in to cleanse away the nausea and pain of his headache.

Of his hangover.

He had a hangover.

Wen Ruohan, the mighty Sect Leader Wen, was providing him with medical attention to deal with his hangover.

There weren’t going to be words for how much he was going to get punished when he got home.

“Thank you, Sect Leader Wen,” Lan Qiren croaked, feeling hot all over with unending mortification. He had truly been foolish to think that just because there was only one night left in the Nightless City there was little danger of him repeating the mistakes of the past – he had no face left to speak of.

“Oh, no need to be so formal,” Wen Ruohan said, drawing out the words in a drawl. “Not after such a memorable night.”

Lan Qiren did not want to know what he did to make the night get described as memorable. He did not.

Especially not since Wen Ruohan was so obviously enjoying himself over it.

Of course, he wasn’t an idiot: he might be slow and bad at social cues, might find it difficult to understand the unspoken or keep up with sarcasm, but even he knew what was being implied here.

An older man with a younger one, liquor shared, a bedroom…

Yes, he understood the implication.

He just wasn’t stupid enough to believe it.

Lan Qiren folded his hands together and held his head up high.

“It is good that the Sect Leader did not take insult at my foolishness,” he said stiffly. “I thank you for your care and attention, and regret the burden I placed upon you.”

If anything, Wen Ruohan looked even more amused. “Such dignity, little Lan. You’re not even going to ask what happened?”

“This junior is only sixteen,” Lan Qiren said, still stiff and icy. “There is nothing that could have taken place without Sect Leader Wen’s approval, and naturally Sect Leader Wen would not permit this junior to offend his dignity.”

There, he thought with some satisfaction. That neatly turned the situation around: even if something untoward had occurred, which honestly Lan Qiren did not believe past that first initial moment of panic – even putting aside the fact that he wasn't anywhere near sore enough for something like that to have occurred, Wen Ruohan was not known to succumb easily to lust, nor was he so eager for war that he would recklessly try to deflower the son of another Great Sect while the latter was intoxicated for the first time – the blame would fall squarely on Wen Ruohan’s head, not Lan Qiren’s.

Wen Ruohan laughed, understanding perfectly well what Lan Qiren meant.

“You would think so,” he said, sounding almost approving of Lan Qiren’s rule lawyering. “I would have thought so, too, but I find that you Lan have truly remarkable arm strength…especially when trying to keep your conversational partner from escaping while you explain the difference between what the Lan sect consider to be fundamental rules and those considered ancillary.”

Lan Qiren blanched.

That was worse than what he’d thought – because unlike the notion of him making unwanted advances (or receiving them, for that matter), it was plausible. Terribly, painfully plausible.

“Oh, yes. All five iterations of the debate.”

Oh no.

“Four sect discussions. Seventeen separate texts on the subject, not counting later commentaries. Sixty-four subsidiary rulings, all of which you were very enthusiastic in recounting - and here I was thinking that your Wall of Discipline had a surfeit of rules, when in fact it was only the beginning. Apparently, I underestimated you.”

Lan Qiren buried his face in his hands as if that would make it stop.

“Still, I suppose I’ll have to accustom myself to hearing more about the rules in the future,” Wen Ruohan mused. “We’ll be spending far more time together, after all, on account of our sworn brotherhood.”

Lan Qiren looked up and opened his mouth, then stopped.

He had nothing to say.

His mind was absolutely blank, a state which had never before occurred.

“Forgive me,” he finally spat out. “Our – what?”

Wen Ruohan smiled at him with eyes full of poison and a mouth full of teeth.

“Sworn brotherhood,” he said casually, as if it was nothing. “You were saying that you regretted not being able to see more of the Nightless City before you left, and that you could only leave the Cloud Recesses to visit family, so we became sworn brothers.”

“We did not.”

“Oh, but we did,” Wen Ruohan said. “We drank mixed wine and swore all the appropriate oaths – I have the written version here, if you’d like to see.”

The piece of paper he put in front of Lan Qiren was recognizably in Lan Qiren’s own hand, although his normally impeccable calligraphy was rather wobbly. It was still readable, though, and the first few clauses very clearly laid out a sworn brotherhood oath.

Lan Qiren stared at it.

“We – but we can’t be sworn brothers,” he said blankly. “We’re – you’re two generations older than me. Am I supposed to call you da-ge?”

“No one has called me da-ge since my youngest brother died,” Wen Ruohan mused, and Lan Qiren was abruptly reminded of the rumors, never confirmed, that that particular death had come at Wen Ruohan’s own hands following a challenge for the seat of sect leader. “It’ll be very charming, I’m sure.”

“But…”

Wen Ruohan said nothing, but only smiled at him.

Lan Qiren looked down at the paper.

He didn’t understand what was happening.

He tried to go over it again in his mind: he had left the competition when the celebration had started, he had wandered the halls, he had tried to obey his brother’s instructions in avoiding Wen Ruohan, and when that failed, he had obeyed him in trying to be obedient. He had drunk liquor for the first time, and he had no memory thereafter until he had woken up here and now, in Wen Ruohan’s bedroom, with Wen Ruohan saying that they had –

He didn’t think Wen Ruohan was teasing him over this, though. Not the way he had so obviously been with his implications that they had used the bedroom for purposes other than sleeping.

Not with evidence, written in his own hand.

He didn’t understand.

How could this have happened?

“…did we really?” he whispered, half-hoping against hope that it was still a tease, still a joke, still – something, anything, other than what it was. That Wen Ruohan was just waiting for him to declare that he believed him, to demonstrate dismay, and then he would tell him the truth.

“Yes,” Wen Ruohan said instead, inexorable. “We did.”

Lan Qiren’s mind fell into chaos.

He didn’t understand.

“You’re shaking,” Wen Ruohan observed. “Ah, little Lan – don’t tell me it’s now that you’re scared?”

Lan Qiren’s hands were in fact shaking, he observed, and he put them over his face.

“Why would you do that?” he asked, his whole body starting to rock back and forth in his distress. “Why would you – with me – an oath of brotherhood can’t be taken lightly –”

“It can’t be,” Wen Ruohan said, and for some reason he sounded satisfied. “Certainly not for someone like you, little Lan, who always keeps their word and does not lie.”

“But why?” Lan Qiren asked, his voice rising almost into a plaintive wail. “Our sects aren’t even allies.”

“They are now,” Wen Ruohan said, and put his hand on the back of Lan Qiren’s neck. It felt hot against his skin, like a hot stone used for massage – a little too hot to tolerate for very long. “You know the obligations of a sworn brother oath as well as I. My duty as the elder brother is to guide you and care for you, support you and yours, and in return you are to obey me and be guided by me.”

Did Wen Ruohan want a spy in the Lan sect? Lan Qiren wondered wildly. But surely there were easier ways than this – not only would he make a terrible spy, with his clumsiness and his terrible social skills and his inability not to take everything seriously, but it would be simple enough for his sect to counter such a move. All they would need to do would be to cast him out…

His rocking intensified.

Wen Ruohan brought his other arm around him and pulled him close until Lan Qiren’s forehead, with its forehead ribbon still firmly in place, was pressed against his chest.

“Don’t cry, little brother,” he crooned. “Am I to allow a priceless painting to be kept by those that see it only for its use as spare kindling? A peerless treasure sword left to prop up a door?”

“You have a half-dozen swords hanging on your wall, each more priceless than the next, and all of them rusting away for lack of use!” Lan Qiren cried out. “Even if it’s only a door, at least it’s – it’s my – my brother…”

“Do not worry about your brother, undeserving as he is of your sincerity. Qingheng-jun has been trying to get concessions out of me this entire conference,” Wen Ruohan said. His breath was warm against Lan Qiren’s hair. “I’ve been refusing, but now I’ll grant them. He won’t punish you.”

“That’s not how that works. Punishment isn’t inherently bad; it’s meant to correct and guide the individual – the failure of good conduct will always be my own, no matter the result –”

“What I have taken into my hand, no one yet lives who would dare seek to take away,” Wen Ruohan said. “Anyway, it’s too late to regret now, isn’t it? What’s done is done. Don’t you have a rule like that?”

Lan Qiren sniffed. “No. There are at least four that could potentially qualify as having similar underlying meanings, but none directly on point.”

Wen Ruohan huffed. “Little Lan, if I tore out your heart, would you have time to cite one of your sect rules before you died?”

“…maybe if it was a short one?” Lan Qiren said, blinking at the strange question; his lashes brushed against Wen Ruohan’s lapel. “I mean, there’s a difference between ‘Be loyal and filial’ and ‘Set the wise as your teacher and the moral as your example’, isn’t there? And of course you’d have to consider whether in tearing out the heart you impeded the lungs, and how much time it would take the exsanguination to take effect…”

He was calming down, he realized, and pulled back out of Wen Ruohan’s arms, blushing as he realized that the question must have been meant as a distraction, though how Wen Ruohan had realized that a distraction would be the best way to reduce his distress when even he hadn’t known, he had no idea.

“Thank you for your consideration,” he mumbled, ducking his head in embarrassment.

Wen Ruohan started laughing.

“Truly I have found an unappreciated treasure, unlike any other,” he said amid his chuckles. “Come along, little Lan. Let’s go break the news to your brother.”

#mdzs #lan qiren #wen ruohan #my fic #my fics #spilled pearls

133 notes · View notes

grabthemhorns-old · 4 years

Text

Body Language, Demon Style - Obey Me!

Just some thoughts about the boys (+Diavolo and Barbatos) when they’re relaxing in their demon form as I think about this way, way too much. Horns and tails and scales are my Absolute Jam. My time has come.

SFW version. For now :3

——–

Lucifer: You notice the more he relaxes around you, the more he touches his horns. Wary, almost. You see the chips, the scratches and dents. A thousand, thousand years that followed their Fall, full of a thousand stories. You wonder just how much blood has painted the ridges. And the feathers. Feathers that quiver, flutter, spread, when he just sits. Reading. Thinking. Do they speak for him, when he wont? When you’re at his side, they’re an extension of self, acting on his subconscious will to embrace you with a delicacy that maybe he feels he can’t give you, directly. They’re surprisingly warm. A dawn’s kiss, painted black.

Mammon: There’s always one wing that he favours, the leathery span twitching back and forth with a restless leg, a tapping finger, a chattering mouth. He’s oddly quite sensitive about people touching them. You ask him why one day. He tells you he sometimes still dreams about Lucifer tearing his own wings off. After that day he takes your hand and slowly draws it along the soft, golden tipped hide, letting you touch every edge, every scar and spike. When you’re alone, he can’t get enough of your touch on his wings now, casually spreading one out across your lap as you binge watch, followed by a cheeky smile. His horns are pierced at the tip, golden hoops twice on either side. He likes to twist them when stretching out, enjoying the melodic, clack, clack. He enjoys it more when you play with them while he stretches out onto your lap, gentle, so gentle so not to scratch you with the jagged tips.

Leviathan: You think it’s cute when he picks at the bottom tip of his horns when he’s thinking, reading, or concentrating. As a result, that tip is misshapen on that side. But you don’t ever bring it up, knowing how insecure he is. And how much you’d never change a single thing about him. Usually tightly wound when out, about, when with you, his tail drags comfortably along the floor, relaxed; it curls up to a gentle, swaying O. There’s this thing he does when excited with his tail that you adore. It just sort of, pings up straight behind him, then slithers back down. And if you are beside him, it slithers around you, moulding against your body. A perfect fit. You wonder if it’s conscious. Again. You don’t ask, you just enjoy. Lest he realise and stop.

Satan: Now you understand why he keeps it wrapped around his body out, about and around others. It’s so expressive. Now just you both, it flicks back, forth; curling to delicate shapes you draw with your eyes; slinking around your limbs as you sit, sprawled across his lap, book in hand. The rough scales are ragged in places you notice at it slides across bare patches of skin. He apologises when you notice. But you just gently touch his tail, piecing together the scars with a kiss. It trembles under your touch. You also start to notice, when his tail is free, that it mimics his motions. When he moves his arms, how he stands, the way he feels. But it’s always still a favourite of his to wrap the end around something. You ask why. It’s grounding. A fully connected touch, to touch. As you grow closer, that grounding becomes you. He is much more conscious to be near you with his horns, so aware of their size, and pointed tip. Kissing is still sometimes more rigid than you’d like, so aware of the fragility of your human body. Asmodeus: Several piercings decorate his wings, and he almost chimes as he moves. Sometimes he moves so he will chime, so he will shimmer, the light catching the emeralds, rubies, the gemstones you don’t even know, studded through the thick hide. It’s rare that he’ll fold his wings, even when relaxing with you. He wants to be seen, and the most important pair of eyes are yours. But when you do get close, close enough to embrace while relaxing together, he tucks them away, so all that focus is just, you. It’s an odd feeling having such love for someone else in so long. It’s odd, looking up.

Beelzebub: His demon visage is probably the one that you have seen the least. You think maybe he doesn’t feel the need like the others. Running a hand across his muscles, maybe he doesn’t. But when he is in it, there’s barely a change in him. His wings stay tucked, mostly, the light painting them in a ripple of rainbow every time he breathes, stretches, laughs. They twitch every so often, letting off a soft chirp. Does he blush when they do? You look again when it happens. Yes. Yes he does. You start to compliment his wings more. Because they are beautiful. A cacophony of colour, that remind you of a chromatic star fall, contained to web that looked delicate enough to snap, beneath your touch. But it’s sturdy, as you find out when you see Beel stretched out on his stomach one morning on bed, eating his breakfast, wings spread wide. And you touch. Belphegor: He’s in his demon form the most, probably. You’ve yet to ask why. Curled up, knees to chest, head down, he touches his horns a lot. Idly scratching, fingers tapping, twisting hair around the ends until it’s comically awry. You love to watch. And he knows. Some might think that his horns would get in the way of his sleep, but you soon find out that he’s grown attached to sleeping, dozing, relaxing, with them on. You watch how he curls neatly into a pillow, several dented into shape for his curved horns, and it all just, fits. One day you put one of the pillows on your shoulder. A silent encouragement. It slides to your lap. They feel smoother than you’d thought. It’s soothing as you trace the curve they make. Around, around. Their point ends close, so close, to his face, you feel his lashes brush your fingers. He’s wide awake. His tail is often still. But when sitting together, you notice the fluffy end tap, taps on something. The sofa, his leg, your arm, your leg. It’s gentle and soft; it’s rhythmic and comforting. And soon you can’t do without. When he’s needy, clingy, he wraps his tail around your arm. Not very tightly, but you know how tight it can go.

——————————————–

Bonus!!!

Diavolo: You’re not even sure Lucifer can rival his presence when he’s in full demon visage. As bright, as beautiful as his smile and laughter, Diavolo shines. His wings are constantly spread, no matter who he is with or what he is doing. It’s like Lucifer’s pride has rubbed off on him. Or that you forget he’s the king here. And sometimes, he likes to let everyone know. They echo his every gesture, his every emotion. Wide and welcoming with his arms; clawed and high in anger; rippling with his ridiculous laugh. You’ve always loved how Diavolo has spoken so loudly with more than words. Occasionally, he’ll tap a claw against a horn. Or slide a finger along a gold trimmed edge. Is it to go - look at me; look at my power, and don’t forget who I am, above, and below. You don’t know. But you just keep looking. You smile. It worked. Barbatos: Sometimes you used to not even notice he was there when he was. But the more you got to know him, the more you realised that’s what he wanted. Anonymity in a world where he stands beside a king. But when you see his demon visage for the first time, there’s your initial thought. Maybe it pales in comparison to the likes of Diavolo, of Lucifer, of Satan. But that night, all you could see, was Barbatos and the crown of his peculiar bat wings, unusually still and poised, even when he walked, never moving once. Delicate, but prominent. Unique, amongst a slew of power and pomp. You’re both alone, but is he really relaxed? You blink twice when you see the bone bat wings move atop his head. A gentle sway, as if a flap to stay airborne. You watch. His poise, perfect. Legs crossed, back straight, even as you’re on the 10th episode. All that’s different is your held hands. You squeeze. The wings move again. You smile. As does he, squeezing back.

1K notes · View notes

intu-witch-tion · 3 years

Note

(Resend) Prompt : You/reader bump into Pedro Pascal bump into one another in NYC (coffee shop, bar, club, etc. during the day/night, your choice) and then... whatever! It could be something a simple as he asks you out or a steamy one night stand!

No Funny Business (Pedro Pascal x Female Reader)

Word Count: 5.9K (well, shit. My bad, I guess.)

Warnings: alcohol consumption, gambling, fluff, teasing, smut, P in Va-G sans condom (be safe, friendos.)

Notes: I took this idea and morphed it into something else I have been thinking on. Essentially I wanted to capture a full date night with Pedro. With a happy ending, if you catch my drift. 😂 😘

7:21pm

“There’s a party tonight. And we’re going.” Your roommate spouted as she walked in the door. You had just moved to California in an effort to start over and one of your long-time friends, Sarah, had offered for you to stay with her until you got on your feet. She worked as a camera technician on big movie sets in Hollywood so it was no shock that she knew about all the who’s who parties in the area. However, it had only been a few weeks since you arrived and developing a social life was honestly the last thing on your mind as you looked at all the boxes that needed unpacking.

“Did you hear me?” Her insistent voice rang out from the kitchen as her keys flung onto the counter. You grinned and shook your head, chuckling under your breath. She was a wild one and kept you on your toes. Moving to LA wouldn’t have been a complete adventure without her. She stood in the doorway of your room and looked down at you sitting on the floor, surrounded by cardboard boxes. She threw you an intent stare, head cocked to the side as she awaited your response.

“A party? It’s a Wednesday night.” You whined softly, trying to shirk your way out of going and knowing full well the effort would be futile.

“It’s LA, baby!” Sarah exclaimed, raising her arms in the air with a jovial heel kick causing you both to bubble with laughter. You clambered off the floor, using the boxes to balance, pulling a wad of balled up masking tape off your hip. You sighed, feeling a bit defeated and knowing you didn’t have a choice in the matter. Sarah pinched her lips in a shit-eating grinning, realizing her own victory.

“Let’s find you something to weeeear!” She bubbled, grabbing your arm and dragging you into her bedroom.

9:34pm

“What kind of party is this anyways?” You inquired as Sarah parked the car on a hilly street. Grandiose houses lined either side of the road. You had driven nearly an hour to get here.

“It’s just a small house party. Some film editor’s best friend or…something. I don’t know. I just saw a random flyer on my boss’ desk and figured—‘when in Rome!’ ” Sarah shrugged, her tone nonchalant.

Your head turned to her quickly, eyes wide and blinking at her in disbelief. “You mean--we aren’t invited?!” Your voice squeaked through the neighborhood, the echo bouncing off the walls of the houses and back to your ears. Sarah grabbed your arms, shushing you. “Dude, chill. It’s an LA party. And it’s totally casual. Just. Be cool.”

Your lip curled in discomfort, an involuntary eye twitch causing your face to contort. Sarah laughed at your expression and waved you off, pulling you up the steep driveway and to the door of the house. You expected her to knock but instead, Sarah just grabbed the door handle and waltzed right in like she owned the place. You grimaced, clutching the small purse at your side as if it could transport you somewhere else.

The house was modern and relatively sterile, with dim lighting and the hum of music in the background, loud enough but not drowning. Sarah hurried you along, pulling you into a large room with massive windows scaling up to the ceiling. It was filled with people, some gathered at a bar in the corner and others sitting placidly, sharing a drink and conversation. Sarah waved at a gentleman across the room and she turned to you with a sheepish grin. “Hey, that’s that guy I was telling you about.” You rolled your eyes with a soft smile, now understanding the real reason why we were here. You knew you would likely be finding your own way home this evening. “Go ahead.” You giggle. Sarah looks at you a bit worried, not wanting to leave you alone but hyper-focused on meeting her crush at the back of the room. “I’m a big girl. I’ll be fine. Go!” She hugged you quickly and wasted no time pushing her way through the throngs of people.

You needed a drink. You found a bucket of beer on ice and quickly grabbed one, popping the top off and taking a generous swig. Your eyes swept the ambient room and noticed there were actually a few celebrities present. Aiden Gillen, who you recognized from Game of Thrones, leaning against a chair while chatting with an intimate group. And was that---Cole Sprouse? Random. And Paul Giamatti? What these people had in common, you would never know. The Hollywood crowd was an enigma.

You took another sip of your beer and made your way into the next room where you heard a loud rise of voices and a bunch of clapping. Your brow furrowed, curiosity over the uproar drawing you closer. You see a poker table surrounded by people laughing and carrying on. Poker could be fun. You took a seat and see the table is about to start a fresh game. “Room for one more?” You call out and everyone looks over at you with a welcoming smile. “Welcome to the table!” The dealer beckons. “Our current undefeated champ is off getting a drink so we will begin momentarily.” You nod and take another sip of your drink, reaching into your purse to grab some cash to add to the betting pool.

A few people start clapping and as you look up from your wallet, you see a man sit down across the table. And your heart sinks down into the pit of your stomach. Pedro Pascal. Your mouth goes dry and it’s all you can do to keep from looking like a deer in headlights. “Pedro’s back! Let’s do this!” The dealer calls, his voice high-spirited. You try to remember how to breathe and instead you clear your throat awkwardly, followed by an embarrassing sort of cough (?!). Everyone looks over at you, Pedro included, and you wave like an idiot. “Yeah, no—sorry. I’m good. I’m ready.” Mortifying. Greeeat. You wince at your own lack of decorum and proceed to watch the dealer cut the deck.

Finishing your beer swiftly, you hope the liquid courage gives you the strength you need to remember how to read numbers to get through this game. You pick up your cards. You’re relieved to see you’ve been dealt a good hand. You lift your eyes up and give the other players a methodical glance, stopping on Pedro’s pensive face longer than you should have. He must have felt you looking at him because his eyes lift from his cards in a quick motion and your face burns like a wildfire as you turn your attention back to your cards. Fuck.

The game proceeds with Pedro calling the initial bet, followed by one player folding while the other checks to avoid the bet. When it rolls around to your turn, you are confident. “Call.” You state plainly, locking eyes with Pedro across the table. He raises an eyebrow as you match his bet. The game continues this way until it is just the two of you left playing. You sit with 7 cards in your hand, eying them sharply. Pedro slinks into his seat a bit, looking a bit too relaxed. He’s bluffing. You speculate. You hold a straight flush. There’s only one hand that could beat that. You were ready to take your chances.

“Raise.” You chime, eyes never leaving your cards. He stares at you for a moment, gazing at the pile of cash on the table. There is a pregnant pause, and everyone is watching in earnest, so quiet one could hear a pin drop. Pedro finally sits up in his seat and grins with a nod, laying his cards down on the table. “Fold.” He says, a hint of defeat hidden beneath his playful countenance. A satisfied smirk creeps over your lips and you lay your cards out, revealing your hand. Everyone claps and Pedro flips his cards to show his weak Three of a Kind and you can hardly keep from laughing. “Another round.” Pedro insists and you shake your head. “I think not. I’d better cash-in while I’m ahead.” You say with a wink, swiping your hand across the green felt table and grabbing your winnings. Everyone is chattering on as you walk away from the table. Did you really just kick Pedro’s ass in Poker? You stuff the cash into your purse and scan the room. You see Sarah and her friend loitering in a corner, extremely close to one another and you know this wouldn’t be the time to brag about your poker victory, much less your Pedro encounter.

Your curious mind gets the better of you and you look back at the poker table which is now shockingly vacant. Everyone must have determined that was enough for the night and dispersed after you snatched all the cash and bailed. Whoops. You turn your attention to the bar, thinking now would be a good time for another drink and there he was, laughing with a small group of nameless strangers. You grab a couple of beers from the bucket which is now filled with mostly ice water.

Slinking up behind him, you lean against the bar, barely brushing your shoulder against his. He feels the pressure of someone close to him and instinctually gives a quick glance over his shoulder. But as he goes to look away, he double-takes when he realizes it’s you. You’re suddenly met with a handsome grin and a low chuckle. “Have you come to gloat?” He teases, abandoning his other conversation and squaring his shoulders to face you. You laugh and hand him a beer, wriggling your nose up in an apologetic gesture. “I figured the least I could do was bring you a beer.” He accepts it with a nod, looking down at the bottle as he plucks off the cap. “Yeah, since you took all the cash in my wallet, that does seem like a pretty fair trade.” Your jaw drops in faux-shock at his snarky remark. You try your best not to laugh. “Oh man. I guess I should have brought you some ice too.” You reply, and his brow furrows as he contemplates your meaning while bringing the beer up to his lips. You take the opportunity to seal the punch line. “Ohhhh. For the sick burn you’re experiencing, I mean.” He doubles over and brings his fist to his mouth as he struggles to swallow his beer through a sudden tear of laughter. “Wow. That was bad.” He adds once he’s able to regain his composure.

You both chuckle and you extend your hand out for a greeting. “I’m Y/N.” He smiles and takes your hand, shaking it politely. “Pedro Pascal.” There is a momentary silence and you don’t know what to say. Do you tell him how great he is? How much you love his films and that you admire his work? That felt so…weak. So instead, you manage, “Nice to meet you,” and you pull the bottle to your lips to sip your beer again as a filler to the dead space between you. He gives you a puzzled look for a moment and you almost feel as though you did something wrong, until.

“Hey, there’s an open sofa over there. Let’s go sit.” He suggests, making his way over without waiting for you to agree. You follow him and sit down on the grey velvet loveseat, which ironically seemed a lot bigger from across the room. The two of you are sitting closer than you had planned. Pedro doesn’t seem to mind it, draping his arm over the back of the couch and behind your head. He places his beer between his legs as he crosses one over the other. He’s so relaxed and it’s a marvel to you how at ease he is. And then you realize something…so are you? Shouldn’t you be bursting at the seams, gushing for this man you have drooled over for so long? But as you looked at him, sitting on the couch next to you, you feel entirely poised and comfortable.

12:36 am

The two of you were swept up for what felt like forever talking about all manner of things, laughing and teasing one another to the point where you felt nothing like strangers who had only met hours ago. You had lost track of time. And Sarah—who had apparently left over an hour ago having spotted you and Pedro on the couch chatting it up like old pals. She didn’t want to interrupt and sent you a text, which she knew you would check later.

“Hey bich. I’m going home with Greg. Looks like you’ve got a ride figured out. I expect ALL THE TEA tomorrow. 😈 Luv ya!”

Your beer bottles had been empty for a while as you give it a shake for good measure, watching a few lonely drops sloshing around the bottom. Pedro chuckles and looks around the room. Everyone had mostly filtered out, apart from a few. You look at him and give a sheepish smile and he goes to open his mouth to say something and stops himself. You tilt your head a little and squint in his direction. “…what?” You inquire. He sits up, placing his empty beer bottle on the coffee table in front of him. “No, nothing. It’s weird.” His voice tapers. You lean off the back of the couch, bringing yourself closer to him. “Let’s hear it. I like weird.” He turns to you and bites his lip slightly with a smirk. “Come home with me.” He blurts. Your eyes nearly burst from their sockets. He said what now?! He laughs and places his hand on your knee and all the sirens in your head start wailing, your arms going numb. “No funny business, I swear. But I am having a good time with you. Besides, all the beer here is luke-warm at best.” You remain silent, considering his proposal. You weren’t the type to just go home with someone you have only known for 4 hours—Pedro Pascal or otherwise. Was he the type to invite randos to his house?

As if reading your mind, he starts again. “Look, I don’t just randomly bring people home with me. Please don’t get that idea.” His voice goes soft and a bit distant. “I just don’t want our night to end yet.” You look into his rich, brown eyes and you inhale deeply, pondering over your options. You could call a cab and just go home. But a cab ride this time of night and nearly an hour away---you could see all your poker winnings blowing out the window.

“I have a guest room.” He adds gratuitously. And you turn to him and laugh. “Oh? Does THE Pedro Pascal have a guest room?” You taunt him, holding your hands up to your mouth. “Now you’re just rubbing your lavish lifestyle in my face.” Your words dripping with sarcasm. He laughs heartily. “Oh, so you DO know who I am?” You look at him in surprise. “Of course I do! Why would you think I didn’t?” He shrugged, running his index finger along the stubble on his chin. “Most people I meet rave about my movies or my,” he adds air quotes to the word, “work.” You smirk, pursing your lips tight like a drawstring bag. “I took your poker money AND I didn’t visibly fawn over you. It’s been a hard night for Pedro, hasn’t it?” You say in a boo-boo voice, pinching his cheek. He laughs and swats at you.

Your laughter tapers and you look at him with a soft smile. “No funny business.” You confirm and he grins from ear to ear. “You got it. Let’s get out of here then.”

1:04am

He opens the white Mercedes door and you climb into the car. It is a sporty sedan but not ostentatious. He gets in and push-starts the ignition. You put on your seatbelt as he does and he looks over at you, a cable in his hand. You look at him inquisitively. “Pedro’s Car Rules. Whoever is in the passenger seat must hook up their music. So that I may adequately judge you.” You laugh and shy away from the cable. “Judge me? Seriously?” He wags the cable in your face. “We don’t move until you plug in your phone.” He shrugs and takes his other hand off the wheel. You groan and snatch the cable from him, your fingers grazing over his as you do, sending an electric shock through you.

You plug your phone in, fumbling past your sudden nervousness. “Ok, let me find something.” Pedro immediately stops you. “Nope. Shuffle.” Your jaw drops and you cut eyes at him playfully. He tilts his head towards you and raises his eyebrow and you know you must acquiesce. You nod and say nothing, shaking your head as you push the shuffle button and hit play. Please, for the love of fuck don’t be something ridic---.

My Shot – Hamilton (Original Broadway Cast Recording)

You face-palm and let out an audible groan. Pedro starts laughing and cranks the volume. “Excelleeent.” You listen to the entire song and by the end of it, you are both singing along, laughing when you mess up a lyric.

Mi Gente – J Balvin, Willy Williams

Pedro turns to you with an amused look of surprise. You raise your hands in the air and giggle. “It’s a jam. Don’t hate.”

Take on Me – a-ha

The moment this song drops you both immediately start hitting the air-keys, harmonizing and dancing beneath your seatbelts.

Kiss – Prince

Pedro exclaims. “Ahhh! Yes!” You both carry on over your love for Prince and the rest of the car ride consists of an exchange of stories on how the artist was such a powerful influence on your lives, not paying much attention to anything else that plays over the stereo system.

1:47am

He pulls up to a house at the end of a rather unassuming suburban street. It was clean and contemporary, with neatly kempt flower beds filled with beige river rocks and cacti with pink and orange flowers, their blossoms closed until dawn. It was not a small house, but it was also not what you would expect a celebrity of Pedro’s status to call home. It wasn’t a large pseudo-mansion with pillars and stately windows. Instead, it was inauspiciously beautiful.

You open the car door and walk along the driveway up to the front door, which was a beautiful knotty oak with an ochre stained finished. The golden hue of the door made for a lovely contrast against the white stucco house and black framed windows. Pedro opened the door, inviting you to step in first. You awkwardly cross the threshold into a hallway that feeds directly into a living room. Large windows open up to an outdoor veranda and what looks to be a hot tub, but you can’t quite make it out in the dark.

You hadn’t noticed that Pedro had stepped into the kitchen and returned with two beers. “Shall I give you the tour, m’lady?” He jokes, handing you the bottle with a smile. You grin, giving a small bow. “Yes please!” He shows you around the living room, kitchen, and a few other extra-curricular spaces—the gym, the game room--until you find that you have circled back to the heart of the house where you began. He points to a hallway. “And over here are the bedrooms. I didn’t want to sound like a braggart before, but...” He leans in, his whisper grazing the nape of your neck. Your eyes close and your mouth falls agape as you feel his breath against the shell of your ear. “I actually have four guest rooms.” You take in a sputtering breath and try to laugh at his attempt at a joke, which was completely lost on you the moment his lips brushed over your ear.

Did he do that on purpose? He makes his way down the hallway, showing you each of the bedrooms. And then he stops at the last one. “You’ll sleep in here.” You nod, trying to understand what was wrong with the other three. “And where is your room?” The moment you ask it, you wish you could suck the words back into your mouth. He takes a sip from his beer and smiles against the bottle’s opening. “Right over here.” Directly across from “your” room, were double doors that led to his own bedroom. Now you understood why he picked that room for you. No funny business. Right.

You step into his bedroom and you are immediately hit with the smell of him. Notes of amber and sandalwood with a hint of a wood-burning fire. You nearly melted. His room was orderly but not stuffy. The bed was made but the covers wrinkled, almost like he haphazardly went through the motions without much thought to the final result. A small seating area sat in front of a large bay window with long, chiffon curtains. It was cozy. You turn to look at him with a smile, and his eyes have been settled on you for some time. The energy humming between the two of you made a drastic shift. You bit your lip as your eyes traced over him. His shoulders, his biceps, his large, veiny hands. The way he stood with both feet planted on the floor as if he were preparing for the earth to unexpectedly move beneath him.

“Pedro…” You said his name and you didn’t really know why. You had nothing of import to say. But the way his name tasted on your tongue... You gulped. He stepped closer to you, his motions slow as he took the bottle from your hand and placed them both on a table by the door. He turned to face you, his hands running down your arms and you locked your knees to keep from swooning like an 18th century courtier. His gaze was darting all over your face, sweeping over your eyes and down to your lips and back up again. “I know I said no funny business…” He murmured, his voice deep and tender.

He ran his fingers along your neck, combing them through a few strands of your hair before bringing his fingertips up to your jaw line. He lifted your chin so your eyes met his and in that moment, you came undone. It was as though someone shoved a box of lit matches down your throat and they burned in your chest. You hastily grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him into you, your lips colliding with a heated force. His hands began to feverishly climb over your back, your tongue running a soft line over the delicious part of his lips where he quickly granted you access. His tongue invaded your mouth in earnest, and you moaned softly, the sound humming into his head and sending him reeling. He picked you up, your kiss never breaking, and laid you down on his bed. Your hands cupped his cheeks before racing through his russet hair.

The kiss broke for a moment and you lay beneath him, your heavy breathing matching his own. His chocolate eyes glittered as they scanned down your body, his hand landing on your stomach. You twitch as he slips it beneath your shirt, lifting it up to expose the black lacy bra you wore underneath. He hummed under his breath, dropping over you enough until you felt the soft cotton of his grey shirt graze your mid-section. His hand searched along the waistline of your pants and back up again and you whimpered. He tilted his head up to look at you. “I can stop.” He stated thoughtfully.

You shook your head feverishly. He had barely touched you, yet he could see the apparent agony on your face as you slowly unraveled beneath him. “Use your words, Y/N.” He whispered low in your ear before kissing your earlobe ever so softly, pulling away with the most delicate plipping sound. “Please don’t stop.” You breathed desperately. He needed no other coaxing. He swiftly lifted the shirt from over your head and made quick work of sliding your pants down. You fumbled at the button of his jeans and he stood by the edge of the bed and kicked them off as he peeled away his shirt and tossed it onto the floor. He hovered over you as he stood by the bed and you were able to get a good look at him, wearing nothing but his boxer briefs. You could tell by the pitch of his underwear that he was more than ready. And yet, he just stood there, staring at you. Suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious, you start to fold your arms over your body in an effort to hide yourself. And he smirks with a shake of his head, his knees crashing onto the bed and grabbing your wrists, pinning them over your head. “Let me look at you, Y/N.” You give a half-cocked smile as he lets your wrists go. You keep them over your head obediently, granting him what he wants. “You are...” His voice trails as his hands begin to trace along your sides. “Fucking beautiful.” He finishes his sentence and you turn your face into the pillow, hiding your embarrassment.

He chuckles, turning your head back and leaning down to kiss you gently. His hands roam over your breasts, the black lacy bra still a barrier from his attentions. You reach around and unhook it with ease, and they spill out into his palms. He massages them for a moment, flicking his fingers over your taught nipples, pinching slightly. Your back arches off the bed in response. He moans as he takes each into his mouth, circling his tongue across the peaked flesh and then sucking on the velvet skin beneath.

In a motion like silk, his hand finds the wet mound between your legs and you shudder in surprise as he strokes against the fabric, a dark damp patch in your underwear the aftermath of his ministrations. “Fuck.” The word flowed from his exhale, so low you could barely hear it. It was strained and focused. His cock twitched aggressively in his underwear, burning to bury itself inside of you. He hooked his fingers over your panties, dragging them down and tossing them to the wayside. With his firm grip on your knees, he then plunged himself deep into your slick folds. You writhe violently as the feeling of his tongue sends you into a frenzy. “Pedro—” His name trips from your lips as you try to take a breath and at the sound of it, he moans into your pussy, his tongue delving deeper as if to reward you for your lustful admission.

You twist your fingers into his disheveled hair as you buck your hips against him in ardent pulses. “Ah—fuck. Don’t stop—” You plead and the moment that you say it, he pulls away with a devilish smirk. Your hands still tangled in his hair, giving him an admonishing tug as you whine for him to continue. He puckers his lips as if to say “shh”, but no sound emerges. He reaches down to the elastic band of his boxer briefs, letting them slip over his hips. His cock springs out, thick and lengthy, bobbing up and down from its own weight. He gives it a couple of hard pumps as he brings his fingers to your wet pussy and begins to lightly tease the lips, all while circling the head of his cock with his thumb, a bead of precum stringing its way onto your thigh.

You spread your legs wider, tucking your ankles underneath him and pulling him closer. “Stop teasing me.” You whimper. But your begging only spurs him on. “Mmm. Tell me what you want, sweet thing.” You moan at the use of a pet name. “You know exactly what I want.” You squelched impatiently, your hunger for him exceeding all manner of niceties. He leaned over you, groaning into your neck as the head of his cock tickles the damp lips of your entrance. He holds steady there as you jerk beneath him, desperate for him to fuck you. “Patience, baby.” He coos, sinking his mouth upon you. His lips searched over your collarbone and back up to your neck. Your breath purled against the side of his face as you closed your eyes and enjoyed the feeling of his tongue sampling every part of your body.

In the hopes of stopping his teasing, you proceed to do a little teasing of your own. You ran your tongue across his earlobe, nibbling gently with a soft moan of his name into his ear. “Pedro..” He groans softly in response, his cock still teasing you. You kiss his neck, sucking lightly and he reaches down and begins rubbing the head of his cock on your sensitive clit, dragging it up and down. “You’re so—ah, fuck— so wet.” The forced words fall from his lips as if he is fighting through pain. And without another beat, he slowly sheathes himself inside of you. You both let out a drawn-out cry at the sensation and your nails dig into his arms as he arches his back to get as deep as he can. His thrusts are slow and deliberate, closing his eyes and drowning in the depths of your wet grip on him. You pulsed and squeezed to match his rhythm and he swiftly planted his hands on your hips to still your movement. “Mmm. Take it easy on me, baby. I’ll cum in a second if you keep that up.” His voice strained as he continued to pump.

In a rapid motion, Pedro whisks you in his arms and sits on the bed, impaling you on his cock. You wrap your arms around his shoulders as you inhale deeply at the fullness of him inside of you. You rode him leisurely and he did not rush you. The tightening of your muscles moving up and down upon his shaft was enough to send him over the edge, but his eyes remained locked on you as you worked towards your euphoric goal. Your breathing began to accelerate, and he winced with pleasure as you dug your nails into his shoulders. “Cum for me, sweet thing.” Taking the lead again, he proceeded to drive his cock upwards, matching your pace, his grip tight around your ass and you felt a rush of pleasure overcome you as your wet, velvet walls constricted around his cock in violent pulses. He wanted to burst into you, but he refused to let it end so quickly.

Your orgasm faded and you slumped over his shoulder, panting as you came down from your high. He leaned you back so that you would fall softly onto the pillows. He admired you as you laid on the bed before him, your skin glistening with the aftermath of your efforts and reveling in the sensations still thrumming through you. He dropped onto his back next to you, his cock standing at attention, an indication his outward relaxation was only a courtesy to the exasperated woman beside of him.

Rolling over in a rapid movement, he slipped two fingers inside of you mechanically. You were near to purring at the unexpected feeling of his touch and you rocked against him in supplication. He demonstratively pulled you closer by your legs, letting his veiny cock graze along your stomach and dribble some pre-cum onto your flushed skin. You exhaled at the sensation of his warm, full length on your belly. In an instant, he withdrew his fingers and slotted his cock into the space they left behind. The muscles in his back bunched under your nails as he felt your body tense beneath him, straining to reach that pleasure again. His thrusting persisted with a devout purpose, willing you to cum. Your hands raced up his back and into his hair, clutching madly. “Mmm. So—fucking--good.” He praises you with each thrust. And with that, the heat of your core burst, spreading through you as you arched up hard beneath his weight, legs flying up to wrap around his waist to let him sink just a fraction deeper as your walls strangled his cock in rhythmic pulses. The rapturous screams that burst from your lips nearly synonymous with sobbing.

He pulled himself from you and your chest heaved with labored breaths. But he would not wait for your full recovery this time, his own need too strong. He spread your legs without missing a beat and before you could prepare, he slammed himself so deep inside of you that you were whining in pain-riddled pleasure. He groaned, sweat dripping from his brow. You whimpered desperately, his name dripping over your lips in a pathetic mewl. He bemoaned and withdrew almost completely, leaving only his swollen purple head inside. You took a single breath and he surged upwards as if to punctuate a point, hands dropping on either side of your head as your legs fell over his shoulders, a rough sound escaping his lips. You were struggling to catch your breath as he plunged into you time and time again, his pace gradually picking up and becoming rougher and rougher.

“F-fuuck.” He grunted under his breath and once again, you were fit to explode like a supernova. “P-Pedro!” You coaxed, savoring once more the way his name filled your mouth how he filled you now. The sound of it trilling from your lips was enough to finally send him over the edge with you. As the throes of orgasm built in you, he thrust rapidly into your writhing body, his own climax coming hard on the heels of your own, leaving him limp and replete on top of you.

You lay listless on the bed together for a good while, unable to move and entirely exhausted. Once you had caught your breath you looked over at him to find his eyes were closed, a wide smile plastered on his visage. You nudge him in the shoulder playfully. “Proud of yourself?” You jest. All he can do is nod, the grin growing wider.

Another beat of silence passes, and he rolls over, his hand lazily placed on the small of your back as he buries his nose into your hair before planting a sleepy kiss on your head. “You ok?” He hums, the timbre of his voice dusky from exhaustion.

“Better than ok. But…there is something I need to ask you.” You say, turning to face him in the bed. He looks at you quizzically, worried that something might be wrong. He raises an eyebrow in response. A serious expression crosses your countenance and he props himself up on his elbow, growing a little concerned.

“Wha--what is it?” He asks, worried.

“Do you have toothbrush I can borrow?” You ask with a grin. He wrestles you to the bed for toying with him and you both laugh.

“Yes, sweet thing.” He replies with a smile, crawling out of bed, bare assed and all, in pursuit of a toothbrush for you.

💫Fanfic requests open @intu-witch-tion💫

#pedro pascal #pedropascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x female reader #fanfic #fanfiction

114 notes · View notes

dolls-self-ships · 3 years

Text

One Thing You Can Taste

synopsis: Hades and Kassandra go on their first official date, but Hades is acting a bit different than usual. Almost like he’s.. *gasp* nervous. You heard it here folks, the big bad god of the underworld is nervous for a date.

ship: pomegranate seeds 🥀 (hades/kasssandra)

(fluff, flirting, a kiss happens, yea)

It wasn’t the ritziest place in Athens, but it was quite a nice restaurant. Kassandra had insisted that Hades didn’t blow too much on what was essentially their first official date. Sure they knew each other and had… something going on, but this was their first actual outing together. And so far, Kassandra had been doing most of the actual, well, dating.

“And then I said-“ Kassandra said through laughter, stopping when she noticed Hades still sitting rather stiffly, which was wildly out of character for his usual relaxed and flow-y self. She looked him up and down with concern. “-hey, you’re usually talking my ear off, I’ve been doing all the work since we got here. Where’s the sarcasm, the witty jokes you always have, what’s up?”

Hades blinked. “Me? Oh uh.. nothin’ nothin’ just.. uh..”

“Is something wrong?”

“Wrong? With me? Pfttt nooo ‘course not! I.. I..” Hades waved a hand, attempting to mask his embarrassment.

Kassandra raised a brow, clearly not buying his facade no matter how much he tried to brush it off. Hades saw this and sighed, his shoulders slopping in defeat.

“Okay.. uh.. l-look-“ he rested his elbows on the table, making a gesture with his hands. “-Iiii haven’t been on a real date.. in.. a while. Y’know I got the Underworld to run and I got all these plans for Olympus and well you get the jist” he fastly explained, trying to mask his nerves with a cool smile. “I’m uh.. heh, I’m a busy guy you know?”

The princess cheekily smiled, feeling like for once she had the upper hand. “So.. you’re nervous?”

A moment of anxiety struck him, with it clearly showing on his face until the god (what he thought was smoothly) attempted to recover but putting on a faux grin. Hades felt he couldn’t admit such a thing, he was a god, gods don’t get nervous. “Nervous? Aheh- well- ah-I-I don’t know about nervous maybe.. maybe outta practice sure but..”Hades trailed off, knowing his desperate clambering to keep his cool was not holding up, the princess saw right through him.

“Alright” he sighed out “you got me red-handed- or y’know I guess blue-handed”

Kassandra giggled, making Hades’s dead heart resurrect itself. “It’s okay.. I’m nervous too.. how would you rate yours? Like.. on a scale of one to ten?”

“Huh?”

“Just answer”

“Okay um… 7….” Hades looked between Kassandra and the floor “and a half”

Kassandra stifled a chuckle, tossing her hair back and leaning forward closer to Hades, looking up at him through her lashes (and simultaneously inciting a tingling feeling throughout the god’s chest and stomach). She really had no idea, because he’d never let her see it, but the princess had the Lord of the Dead himself wrapped around her little mortal finger.

“Alright, we’re gonna do this together. I want you to look around the room and just.. name 5 things you can see.”

Hades was about to ask why, but then realized this was his chance to swoop in and return to being his suave and savvy self. Pretending to look frazzled by glancing around and tapping his chin, he rambled on “oh uh.. gee I don’t know babe, that might be hard since the only thing I’m seeing in this joint right now is you aheh~” he slyly returned his glance to her, with one elbow on the table and the other resting on his hip, complete with his usual cheesy grin.

Kassandra tried to hold back the flustered and giddy feeling he gave her, but her reddened cheeks gave her away. “Hades, I’m serious.” She smirked.

Hades chuckled, putting his hands up in defence. “Alright alright alright” he mumbled “let’s see.. huh..” he glanced up, spotting a somewhat humorous sight from over Kassandras shoulder.

“That waiter guy’s got a paper straw stuck in his back collar” He pointed over to the scrawny young guy waiting tables, prompting Kassandra to glance over her shoulder and look. A snort escaped her throat.

“Should we tell him?”

Hades shrugged. “Nahhh he’ll figure it out. Or hey be stuck with it the rest of the night, who knows”

Kassandra put a hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter. “Okay, 4 more things, and they don’t.. have to be interesting by the way.”

Hades dipped his head in acknowledgment, scanning the room and pointing at really the first of anything he saw. “Hmmm alright, empty table, chairs… uh… artwork with a very suspicious stain on it, aandddd…” he drummed on the table, turning his head to the table. “Ah, menu. Boom, done, easy.”

Kassandra nodded. “Alright, good. Now list 4 things you can touch.”

Hades leaned back, still confused as to what exactly they were doing. “What is this what are we doing here, is this some sort of game orrr”

She shook her head. “Nope, not a game, just… something I do when I’m feeling a little on edge. Come on, let’s finish this. 4 more senses to go.”

Deciding to go with the flow on this one, even though he really didn’t see or understand how listing things that exist would help, he trusted Kass with this sort of thing.. you know.. feelings. They weren’t his bag but hers? She had the whole suitcase.

“Okayyy uhh.. 4 things I can…?”

“Touch.”

“Touch? Oh, well…” Hades’s expression quickly went from cutely confused to suitably sleazy as he slipped his hand underneath Kassandras’s, taking it while refusing to break eye contact with her. “there’s your… smooth skin” he drawled, using one finger to draw little patterns on her wrist and lower arm while gazing at the princess through hooded eyes. Hades then kissed the back of her hand for 3 looooong seconds before pulling back to see the princess’s pale skin glowing more and more red, which he thought was adorable. Hades casually leaned his arm on the table, taking a lock of Kassandras chestnut hair with his free hand, twirling one of the wispy strands around his finger. “your… soft hair hehehe”

Kassandra felt her breathing become short and her heart rate slowly start to pick up. She wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable, but she was a little embarrassed as they were kind of out in the open for anyone to see. And if her mother taught her anything, it was that getting all nice and cozy with someone in public was very unladylike.

“Hades, we’re in public.” She whispered, trying to sound stern but it just came out more coquettish than anything.

Hades’s hands retreated, next time, he hold himself as he tried to play it off smoothly. “Alright alright, um..” he let his hands rest on the table and started to feel around, gliding his palms over the smooth surface. “Oh this is some nice wood really smooth what is this mahogany? nice huh?”

Kassandra lifted her hand to feel the smooth surface, finding herself amused by how dramatically he was trying to hype up a table. But that’s just how he was, always trying to ‘sell’ something. “Mhm” she softly agreed. “Okay, one more thing.”

Hades sighed, leaning back trying to think of something. That’s when it hit him. “The chair.”

Kassandra smiled. “Perfect! Alright, what are 3 things you can… hear?”

Hades hummed, looking at the ceiling. “Well… there’s that loud fan that’s been kinda buzzing in my ear this whole time.” He and Kassandra let out a breathy chuckle after he said that.

“And all the people talking in this place is hard to miss dont cha think?”

The woman nodded, briefly glancing at said people before turning back to him. “Aaaanything else?? Just one more thing.”

“Hm.. well, just a second ago my ears were graced with the sound of your sweet sweet voice~”

Kassandra caved, letting out a girlish giggle as her head dipped. She was unable to contain the amount of butterflies he invoked in her. “Okay Romeo, who gave you professional smooth-talker lessons?”

Hades clicked his fingers, shooting her finger guns. “Years of practice, doll face.”

“mhmhm~ what are 2 things you can smell?”

Hades sat up straight, dramatically taking a deep inhale of the air around them. “Oh, mm, that’s a lot of ambrosia someone ordered. Might have to go over there, hah.” he sounded enticed, briefly thinking about how it would taste, which would be delicious as per usual.

Kassandra giggled, gods he was too much. She loved it.

Hades’s yellow-ish eyes trailed back to her, a softer grin curling on his face. “And your perfume.. mmm what is that that is just.. intoxicating~” he made a wafting motion with his hand, as if impersonating a wine taster.

Kassandra laughed, which for Hades, meant mission accomplished. He could listen to that laugh all day, all eternity even. It was like a warm symphony of sirens that rang in his ears.

“Okay.. last one.” She leaned forward, as if getting him ready for the news of his life.

“Hit me babe~”

“Mhm~ this ones tricky, but, what’s one thing you can taste?”

Taste. That one was tricky, they haven’t even gotten their food yet. However…. Hades got an idea.

“Taste huh?”

Kassandra nodded. A small gasp escaped her throat once she felt Hades’s hand slip up to cradle one side of her face. Her eyes darted back and forth between his hand and him.

“I could eh.. think of something..” Hades mumbled with a grin that was half dazed and half flirtatious. His words slipped away from him, too fixated on the princess’s full and.. smooth lips to concentrate on anything quick or witty to say like he usual did.

Kassandra was too breathless for words herself, she could feel her chest tighten as she glanced up and down Hades’s face, gods, he was handsome. Her eyes fluttered as they both leaned in slowly, and for a moment, the room felt quiet. Like they were the only two people there. And once their lips touched, oh, it was like fireworks had went off inside of both of them. Hades was sure he had melted the chair and some parts of the table at least a little by now. The kiss lasted for about 5 seconds before they both pulled away, a small squish noise emitting from both their lips as they separated. Hades missed the sweet taste of her lips already, and he couldn’t wait till later tonight when he could (hopefully) get another.

“Mm..” Hades moaned as if he had just a gourmet meal. “cherry, nnnnice~”

Kassandra, still a little flustered and dazed from the kiss, tilted her head. “Hm?”

“Your lipgloss”

Kassandra’s eyes widened as a wave of embarrassment washed over her. “Oh! Ha! Right. Um… of course…” she breathlessly chuckled as she adjusted herself in her seat, trying to sit up right once again.

Just in time for her, but less ideal for Hades, a posh sounding voice interrupted them.

“So sorry but, has this table been helped yet?”

Quickly, the princess began stammering, haphazardly looking between her date and the waiter that definitely just saw them almost make out in the middle of the restaurant.

And what would you know, it was the waiter with the paper straw in his collar.

“Ah,, y-yes, We’-we’re just waiting.” Kassandra declared politely, trying to mask her slight disappointment that their moment was now kind of ruined as she cleared her throat and looked at her lap, then back up at Hades.

The waiter smiled, “ah, very good.” And nodded before taking off.

Hades, despite his current gripes with that boy in particular for interrupting their little moment, stopped him in his tracks.

“Uh, hey! Kid, you uh.. got somethin stuck in your collar there.” Hades gestured with his fingers to his back, hoping that would get the message across.

The waiter hummed and reached behind him, pulling out the straw that had been stuck there. “Oh, uh, thank you, sir! That’s.. ha- embarrassing.” The now blushing waiter stammered, attempting to exit cooly with the straw still in his hand.

Hades chuckled. “You think he woulda felt that huh?”

Kassandra turned back to him, shrugging. “Yeah… I guess he was just too busy to notice.”

Hades nodded, turning his head and mumbling “not too busy to interrupt us though that’s for sure”

Kassandra gave him a look, to which Hades grinned with faux innocence, acting as if he had done nothing wrong. “Whaaat?”

“Hades, be nice.” She half-jokingly scolded him, if he was gonna be around her he’d have to get used to the whole ‘being kind to people’ thing. Again, no bag, her suitcase.

“Heyyyy I’m a saint! a cherub even” he innocently batted his eyes with a grin in likeness, hoping that’d get him to cute his way out of her disappointment.

And oh, it did, works like a charm every time. A melodic giggle escaped Kassandras throat.

A second of silence passed. “So… Wh-what was the point of that whole… senses thing we just did?” Hades asked with boyish curiosity.

Kassandra perked up, quite happy he actually seemed interested to know. “Oh, uh, it’s just an anxiety thing. I learnt about it in my years working with a doctor and phycologist, Hypocrities, he was hired by my mother for the kingdom at the time… do you know him?”

Hades’s eyebrows knitted together, remembering the time that doctor started curing actual dead people in his domain. DEAD PEOPLE. Ohh he knew him alright. “Yeah, yeah I’ve heard of the guy.”

Kassandra nodded. “It’s supposed to just.. remind yourself that you’re here, like, grounding.”

“Huh”

“So how do you feel now?”

Hades blinked, looking into the earnest eyes of the princess. He felt himself melting inside, his lips slipped into a rare, genuine smile. “Good, I.. I feel good.”

Kassandra beamed, happy to see he was feeling better now. “Great! I’m glad” her tone was so sweet it was like she actually spoke with little hearts at the end of her sentence.

Hades could tell this was gonna be a good first date.

#this was all I did today please be nice #bees self ships #hades #self shipping #self ship #self ship community #self ships #self insert #self ship fan fiction #idk I just thought this would be cute like a scene in an 80’s rom com or something idk 😩

24 notes · View notes

makeste · 4 years

Text

BnHA Chapter 279: Here Comes the Airplane

Previously on BnHA: Gigantomachia gathered up the rest of the League and headed off to go help Tomura. Also he is now 80 feet tall. The heroes were all, “whoa this guy is really big, we should probably stop him and maybe even devote an entire chapter or two just to that,” and so they sent three whole people after him, which sadly is pretty much the exact sort of strategy I’ve come to expect from them by this point. Anyway so Mt. Lady tried to hold Machia off but kept getting flung aside, and Kamui Woods tried to catch him but was set on fire by Dabi who is just having way too good of a time setting all of the flammable heroes on fire today, and Midnight tried to put him to sleep but Compress threw a bunch of debris at her and so she fell like 80 feet. The chapter ended with Midnight being all “fuck this” and calling Momo, who ordered the rest of the child soldier squad into action as Machia approached. I’m not really sure what they’re gonna do, but I honestly don’t really care, because it’s Momo, and so, YES.

Today on BnHA: U.A.’s first-year hero students, who apparently had nine hours to prepare their battleground instead of the fifteen seconds we had all assumed, launch a complex multi-staged assault which is actually really fucking impressive because these kids are actually awesome. First they pin Machia down in one of Honenuki’s mud pits, and then they take turns making impassioned attempts to take out the other League members chilling out on Machia’s back. Unfortunately none of these attempts work because of Dabi, who’s working overtime while the rest of the League sits around shooting down each other’s escape plans. Basically a lot of stuff gets set on fire, and then the chapter ends with Mt. Lady pinning Machia to the ground while MINA, YES, MINA, charges at him covered in acid like some sort of video game boss that you need some kind of specific item to defeat. DID YOU KNOW YESTERDAY WAS MINA’S BIRTHDAY YOU GUYS. Anyway so this chapter is basically pandemonium from start to finish, and it’s great. It is a RUMPUS, y'all. A STRAIGHT UP HULLABALOO.

IS IT MOMO LOVIN’ HOURS I THINK IT IS, YOU GUYS. ARE YOU EXCITED. I AM EXCITED

but first, the color page we were promised, in celebration of Six Whole Years Of This Bullshit!!

oh god oh god so much to love so little time

some of the rowdier characters are making MULTIPLE APPEARANCES IN THIS SHITSHOW, including Kaminari who appears to be in a record-setting THREE of these! who exactly was taking all of these pictures, and why are they so obsessed with him. also how many of these are going to be used as evidence in the latest Kami Traitor Theory posts and is it too early for me to get mad about it

“WE INVITED ENDEAVOR AND HAWKS TO OUR ‘BEING FANCY ON THE COLOR PAGE’ PARTY, EVEN THOUGH THEY’RE NOT U.A. STUDENTS OR FACULTY. WE JUST FELT LIKE IT.” listen that is fine, y’all don’t have to explain yourselves to me

Mirko however is not here, I assume because if she was, Horikoshi would have forgotten to draw all the rest of the characters again. she’s too powerful

Midnight is so sexy I don’t even ksdfnkl

ALL MIGHT LOOKING HAPPY GIVES ME THE STRENGTH I NEED TO MAKE IT THROUGH THE REST OF THIS WEEK. YOUR SMILE IS THE MVP

Cementoss’s face is the runner-up MVP and one of the greatest things I’ve seen in my life

half the people here seem to be attempting to flirt with whoever is taking the pictures. I am starting to suspect that the culprit is Momo. change my mind

for some reason I am really shocked to see Endeavor getting his drink on. and he’s literally the only one, too

Bakugou’s half-assed I SAID NO PAPARAZZI skills are no match for Tamaki’s legendary “I WILL LITERALLY DIE IF YOU CAPTURE ME ON FILM” abilities

I literally didn’t notice Deku until like three quarters of the page in. he sure does blend right in there

Tokoyami is approximately 97.3% done and ticking EVER CLOSER to full 100% doneness, and when that happens even I can’t tell you what is going to go down

do I even need to mention how sexy Aizawa’s hair is. apparently I do

SERIOUSLY THOUGH CEMENTOSS’S FACE

anyway, so that was nice! NOW ON TO THE MOMOLOVIN’

and we begin with FIRST YEAR CLASS B HONENUKI “MUDMAN” JUZOU just LAYIN’ SOME TRAPS IN THE WOODS, as one does

oh my freaking god Tokage

somehow her quirk didn’t freak me out quite this much the last time we saw her. she is really something. has she always had shark teeth

also WHERE IS MONOMA’S GROUP. I immediately want to know!! is he with the Shouto group? or is there yet ANOTHER student group we don’t know about? what would they even be doing

or did Horikoshi actually get three quarters of the way through writing this arc and then suddenly slap his forehead as he realized that if Monoma just casually copied Machia’s powers he would either DIE IMMEDIATELY or else become SUPER STRONG and also grow 80 feet tall and this would suddenly be a very different battle with the scales tipping decidedly in the heroes’ favor. and so he had to quickly write him out of the battle in this very half-assed way

anyway, so while I ponder that, Tokage is peeking the top of her head out over the trees and staring at Machia who is, you guessed it, still heading right their way! just like he’s been doing pretty much this entire time

and now there’s a whole page of reaction panels you guys. this is why Horikoshi tries to avoid these massive Endgame-style battles with every single hero known to man participating. hopefully we won’t have too many of these. like I mean thank you for the roll call and all but I’d like to get to the action now

Mineta of all people is stealing this entire page with that expression though. he is not fucking around. this is twice in as many chapters that he’s been a page-stealing face-making champ. dare I hope this could be the start of a new niche for him? lord knows it would be so much better than the old niche

also this page is just sweatdrops galore. these kids are so nervous. MANGA GODS PLEASE KEEP THEM SAFE, although I’m honestly not too worried about them compared to the adults. I’m sure I should be, but I just am not

all right so now Momo is explaining what those little canisters are!

okay but someone please explain to me how it is that they had time to stop and lay all of these traps?? not just Honenuki’s, but Mineta’s and what looks like some of Shiozaki’s work as well?? did Machia just STOP MOVING for like five whole minutes all of a sudden for no reason at all? while they were all sitting out here saying things like “with that speed...”? ????? ????????

also lol wtf. “we’re gonna have to make him eat it.” I still have no idea what their plan is, but it’s getting more entertaining by the minute I’ll say that much

okay so Momo says that if they can get him to swallow just one of these, then that should be enough to put him to sleep. oh my god this chapter is going to be AMAZING isn’t it

meanwhile Mineta is worrying about Midnight. I swear to god if they turn this into something where he’s only worried because she’s hot, I will take one of these canisters and shove it right up his...

okay good, Mina’s reassuring him that it’s gonna be okay, and then we’re just cutting to Machia stampeding in with Mt. Lady and Kamui still clinging to him

WHAT THE HELL ARE THESE GUYS EVEN DOING

“we’ll just stand here adjacent to him and just kind of watch as he rushes straight at the children.” someone help me, I’m having difficulty finding a synonym for “useless” that carries the full amount of emphasis I want to place on it right now. this requires a degree of language the human race is not yet capable of

OH SNAP

THEY GOT HIM YEAHHHHH

OH DANG, FOR REAL THOUGH!!

ngl, for a brief spiteful moment I was disappointed he hadn’t actually fallen on them :/

and they’re still JUST STANDING THERE, I CAN'T EVEN?? we’re getting to the point where I honestly think actual civilians might have been of more use in this situation

YESSSSS

TIME TO FIND OUT HOW MANY TENTH GRADERS GIGANTOMACHIA CAN TAKE IN A FIGHT

also, sorry to keep harping on this, but the juxtaposition of that earlier panel with all of the fully grown and experienced pros just standing in dumb awe, immediately followed by this panel of BRAVE BUT DETERMINED CHILDREN CHARGING IN AND YELLING “GO GO GO”, is just... it really is something. shit. if I was the HPSC and this was what I had to work with, I too might have seriously considered fudging a few age requirements in hopes of finding someone who could actually get the fucking job done

also what the hell is going on down there with Shishida and Satou and that third person? what are those Blackwhip-looking things?? I’m confused

ohhhhh no

Shiozaki is about to be sent flying through the air courtesy of her own hair vines omg

OH NO WAIT THE THREE TOUGH GUYS ARE STOPPING HIM. AHHH THE LAST ONE WAS KENDOU AHHHH

I still can’t figure out what the hell those are though lol. did Momo make some steel cables?? I feel like Machia would be able to break just about any kind of rope or chain they could concoct just by sheer brute strength alone

ah fuck

DON’T YOU GUYS GO RUINING THIS FOR ME!! THEY’VE GOT A GOOD THING GOING HERE, LET THEM HAVE THEIR FUN!!

although I do appreciate how they’re all “U.A.!!” in kind of this “oh shit, these guys we actually have to worry about” sort of tone lol

this look on Toga’s face is a bit concerning! well but Deku and Ochako aren’t here though, so I wonder who she’s gonna fight if it comes to that. huh

(ETA: seriously, does anyone have any idea what Toga is planning cuz I sure don’t.)

Shouji and Ojiro, who I might remind you are normal people with no enhanced physical abilities aside from extra appendages, appear to have somehow circled all the way around to Machia’s back and are now climbing up oh shit

oh and Aoyama’s there too! -- is Shouji carrying him omg

he’s using him as a human ray gun omggg. this is the most delightful thing I’ve ever witnessed

NOW SOMETHING IS BEING SHOT AT THE LEAGUE AND DABI’S STARING AT IT ALL “>:(” AND I’M PRETTY SURE THIS THING, WHATEVER IT IS, IS ABOUT TO BE SET ON FIRE, LET’S SEE

lds;afksjdl;fkj WERE THOSE JIROU’S EARJACKS??!!

okay you know what fuck you Dabi. you think it’s funny to set a little girl’s ears on fire?! don’t expect any sympathy from me when Aoyama lasers you in the face

WELL I DON’T KNOW WHAT’S HAPPENING BUT THEY’RE SHOOTING WHAT LOOK LIKE A BUNCH OF LITTLE TAMBOURINES AT HIM NOW

I ASSUME THEY ARE NOT ACTUALLY TAMBOURINES, BUT I REALLY DON’T KNOW, IT’S NOT LIKE THEY HANDED OUT THE RULE BOOK TO THIS THING AHEAD OF TIME

[HUGE EXAGGERATED GASPING SOUNDS]

oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my

OH MY GOD AND YANAGI THREW THEM WITH HER POLTERGEIST QUIRK!??

I DON’T KNOW WHAT THIS “ACK?!!” IS AND IT’S REALLY BUMMING ME OUT, BECAUSE THIS CAME WITHIN INCHES OF BEING THE COOLEST FUCKING COMBINATION I’VE EVER SEEN IN MY ENTIRE LIFE!?!?

(ETA: it would have laid them all flat in seconds. Kaminari is to be feared you guys.)

NO!!!!!

it is sincerely frustrating to me watching the League carelessly toss aside all of their painstakingly accumulated goodwill from the MVA arc in the span of just a few short pages. hey Compress, you think it’s cool to hurl a bunch of rocks at my six-and-a-half-year-old son?? I hope someone rips that cool robot arm off and uses it to punch you in the dick

here comes Sero!! and how are you going to die, Sero

what in the

did he just... sneeze them all into space

okay but hear me out, what if Shouda absorbed that impact. SHOUDA YOUR TIME HAS FINALLY COME. CLASS 1-B’S ASCENT TO GLORY

(ETA: watch this space!! Shouda is here for a reason mark my words.)

meanwhile on Machia’s back, Dabi is soliloquying about Machia’s quirk while his arm is doing... something

please forgive me for not being able to drum up any sympathy for poor Dabi’s arms right about now. quit trying to set all my kids on fire

wait whaaaaat lol

so I scrolled back up to the previous page, and... that was fire?? lord help me why am I still so terrible at being able to tell when Horikoshi is drawing fire as opposed to just air randomly whooshing through trees. I have really got to memorize that foossh sound effect

so can Gigantomachia just BREATHE FIRE now?? or was ALL OF THAT Dabi??? if it was the latter then at least he had the decency to wait until all of the kids got blown out of range before setting the whole forest aflame to keep them back. I’ll admit it, that was thoughtful of him as far as villain power moves go

OHO BUT YOU CAN’T COUNT MOMO OUT JUST LIKE THAT!!

AND NOW EVERYTHING AROUND THEM IS EXPLODING AHHHHHH DID YOU GUYS SET LANDMINES, BAKUGOU WOULD BE SO PROUD

once again I have to ask myself exactly how much prep time they had here. Horikoshi would have you think it was mere seconds, but that clearly cannot be the case?? maybe they set some of these up beforehand to catch any stray villains trying to flee the area?

lmao Spinner’s all “wait why doesn’t he just dig his way out”, because apparently Machia can tunnel himself under the ground. but Compress is all “um because we would die” and Spinner is all “oh right”

though I gotta say, it’s not like they’re that much better off as things are now, either. pinned down in the woods surrounded by fire and explosives. definitely a conundrum

oh snap Compress has realized that their presence is holding Machia back. don’t tell me Machia is gonna head off on his own and leave the rest of the League to square off with the kids

YOOOOOO HOLY SHIT THE HEROES ACTUALLY DID SOMETHING

there you go, League! free cannon fodder to get you all pumped and confident again!

DKFJLSDKJ

PLEASE LET THIS BE THE ACTUAL TRANSLATION OH MY GOD. THIS IS MY NEW FAVORITE LINE IN ANYTHING AHHHH

“I’m leaving it to you, U.A.’s youngsters!” yeah, you and everyone else. ah well, can’t deny they get the job done

OH MMKJKYYYY GODDDDDDJJK

MINA COATED HERSELF IN ACID AND IS RUNNING AT GIGANTOMACHIA AND IS SHE ALSO ON FIRE??!?! SHE’S JUST RUNNING AT HIM LIKE A BIG OL’ FIERY BLOB???! QUEEN MINA???!! FIRE IS NOT HER WEAKNESS???! MINA??!! IS AIRPLANE?!??!!?!? MINAAAAAAA

holy fucking shit this whole arc is just one big Arc Of Ladies Getting To Do Stuff and I am 1000% living for it. THIS ARC IS MY FAMILY. I WOULD DIE FOR IT AND LEAVE EVERYTHING TO IT IN MY WILL. ahhhhhhhhhh

262 notes · View notes

akvtsuki-ari · 4 years

Text

Semantics

Warnings: dom!spencer, sub!reader, choking, throatfucking, dirty talk, fucking through clothes, humiliation/degradation

Length: 5.4k

Authors Note: idk how to explain the plot of this fic all that well but i hope yall like this! by the way, the two positions Spencer puts you in is the prison guard position and the pole positon, in that order i spent some time on it and i hope yall like it lmfaosjdkh

Plot Summary: You and Spencer could date other people but you both knew that it wouldn’t matter in the end.

There are few things to consider as a universal truth but some things just are. An example of that is here ;the only difference between fucking and making love were semantics. Most things in life are - semantics being the study of meaning in linguistics . As far as our universe knows, sex is an act born only out of necessity and frustration. The need to have sex to make life or the need to have sex because your body was responding to its urges and desires, aka frustration

Maybe in a lot of ways, your need to frustrate Spencer was innate to your humanity. An urge that speaks from generations past. It’s hard to say for sure why it’s happened but you both know how - it’s what has both of you in the place you are now.

Several months ago you and Spencer started hooking up. Casual sex and late night conversation at best, before life picked up any remaining free time and the both of you returned to back to reality. It was a stress reliever, a good time with no strings attached and no stakes involved. You wanted it that way and so did he - but shit always changes. Even when things aren’t supposed to be so complicated they are - because it’s almost inevitable that someone is going to catch feelings. Someone is going to feel something out for the other person or hell - someone else and things are just bound to get sticky and tangled. That’s the nature of casual endeavors - they’re designed to be ephemeral so when the date passes it all becomes complicated. Scintilla, a spark that passes through cold air and then disappears. That’s what hook-ups are intended for but you and Spencer just never figured out how to follow the rules. Neither of you were good at that.

It’s unclear who broke them first - whether your feelings of jealousy were the catalyst for what becomes of both of you. Was it Spencer for indulging her? Was it Spencer’s fault for whispering sweet nothings in her neck when he knew when you were watching? Or was it yours for retaliating? Too stubborn in your own regard to let him win. Spencer wasn’t really one for mind games of this kind but he couldn’t control himself it seemed like. It’s hard to say who started it - two parties indulging in lust-driven pettiness.

Her name started with an S, but you always managed to forget it. She was pretty, eyes low and so interested in Spencer. Her hands would wrap around his shoulders, resting her head on them when he was looking away. She’d drape herself over him at any chance and Spencer would whisper sweet-nothings to her. Laugh with her and look to you, eyes not full of challenge but faux neutrality. Spencer’s neck would always crane to look at her with surprise but you knew better.

It bothered you for a while, but who were you to be caught in a love triangle? He’s the one who had to live with it, after all - every time he was in-between your legs, he’d know she was never you. Still - you weren’t one to give up so quickly and Spencer was waiting on it. Check in 3 moves, your turn.

Imitation is the biggest form of flattery so when you walked into the function with a man on your hip - he wasn’t surprised. He watched the man who followed you in, the way his eyes were all over you. The way you sat on his lap, giving him all your time and attention - stroking his ego just because. You’d giggle at the shared promises, the feeling of his hands on your back. He was gentlemanly with you, carefully paying attention to you and no one else. He was handsome enough to get approached but he’d show disinterest before returning to you. He was moth to flame, but who was surprised? A woman as beautiful as you could do less to achieve that and you just happened to be so much more.

Every work function of any scale, your plus ones would follow you in as you and Spencer would speak to each-other in careful language. It was subtlety that was key because the two of you were the only people who knew that this was happening. It was behind the scenes a love story born of shadows, if you could call it that at all.

Penelope’s Christmas party was the beginning of the end, really.

“How’s Tyler?,” Spencer’s voice is minimal. You were impressed that he managed a name. He looks at you as you pour a glass of wine and you look back, flashing him a smile.

”He’s good. In the other room talking to Rossi and Tara about cars, I think,” you explain softly, wistfully. Spencer looks at the way you talk about him and a part of him seethes. Always does.

“How’s Sarah?,” you ask warmly. You bite your tongue as you talk but it’s killing you. He looks at you, brows quirked smiling back.

“She’s good. Her and Penelope are talking about cats,” Spencer laughs warmly. You hate the way he sounds about it. You want nothing more than to argue with him.

Speak of the devil, you figure. Sarah walks towards Spencer, immediately wrapping herself around Spencer’s side. She whispers something in Spencer’s ear and he smiles, whispering something back before looking to you, eyes full of challenge. You don’t say anything, smiling back at him before you sit up on the kitchen counter. Spencer watches as your skirt hiked up - the garter around your thigh making him... distracted. You just look at him for a second, looking into his expression before getting irritated.

Tyler walks in soon after and you give him a small smile. Sarah is quick to say hello to him and he returns it with ease. He’s polite, always is.

“You ready to go Y/N,” He asks kindly. You give him a grin, wrapping arms around his neck and drawing him in, burying your face in his neck before nodding. He laughs for a second and looks at you as you lift yourself up.

“Weirdo,” he jokes. You scrunch your expression up at him before looking at Spencer. His jaw is tight - you win.

“We’re gonna hit the hay, y’all, I’ll see you tomorrow though,” you say back. Spencer just nods, awarding you a tight lipped smile.

“See you,” his voice is a distant sound as you walk with Tyler.

_____

But, hook-ups were ephemeral, predestined to be anything but long-lasting and in order for things not to get sticky it was only a week after that you and Tyler broke things off. Tyler was too kind for you to let things get too messy. So you didn’t, and for you that was the end of road. Spencer was well... Spencer, still.

The game was still on, but you had no moves for now. You figured for now you just go and have fun, see what happened.

That would work better than you wanted. The next function was Tara’s birthday. She was disappointed that you and Tyler had ended things but was happy to hear you two were friends. You wish you could explain everything else to her but you figure that it’s obsolete.

Spencer was there with Sarah, eyeing you as the both of them sat in the corner. He watched you carefully, not frustrated just... interested.

He catches the way you look to the people around you - listening intently. Your eyes would flash with challenge while you and Luke played drinking games, truth or dare. He watched the way you talked to Luke, confident and excited. He watched the way you danced and ignored him, and it was getting to him more than he wanted to admit.

There was something in the universe that said this was it. He wasn’t sure what it was, or how to explain it. He knew the moment Sarah said she needed to go home, the moment he walks into the kitchen and sees you swaying to music while you poured yourself a drink. The way you talked to him - mostly sober but tipsy enough to just speak candidly. Spencer was in for it, that much was so goddamn obvious now.

“Where’s Sarah?,” your voice is curious.

“Went home, she has a long day tomorrow. For work,” he clarified. You hum in response.

“That sucks, you must be bored,” you say honestly. Spencer shakes his head.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says back. You look at him curiously, eyes reading his expression that seems so far out.

“She’s sweet,” you say earnestly. You stand next to him, sipping your drink as you stare out. Spencer looks over at you and nods.

“You’d know something about that,” his voice is low. You’re a little startled, but you just pick yourself up to walk out of the kitchen.

“Too soon,”

——

Soon the picture was bound to fall together. Sarah and Spencer ended things - on good terms but it didn’t matter. It was just you and Spencer again, stagnant in an impossible place with impossible ends. Months of jealousy and mind games, combined with stubbornness wasn’t going to end in a way that was pretty but maybe that’s what you wanted. Maybe that’s what needed to happen.

Spencer broke first. Months of frustration would do that to a man who fucked you like you were the only woman on earth. It was just a text message, it should’ve been just a text message anyways but how could it be? No such thing as simplicity in this universe the two of you shared, one of jealous reminders and sly comments. All that subtext meant that the build up was that much more impactful.

Spencer: How long has it been?

You: Long enough.

You: Checkmate.

Spencer: Good game, Y/N.

It probably wouldn’t make a lick of sense to anyone else but you and Spencer just knew. You knew what it was - an invitation to come over like you’d done so many times before. It was a recognition that the game was over and it was up to you to reap the benefits of your long-term, maddening and frustrating endeavors.

——-

The drive to Spencer’s house was taking more time than it normally did. You knocked at his door and when you opened it, there Spencer was. He was pretty.

“Come in,” Spencer’s voice was low. The whole environment was thick with an immediate feeling of lust - derived of painfully long and drawn out arguing. It was foreplay in its own right, you suppose.

It was instantaneous. Like the second the door shut behind you, Spencer backed you into a wall - shedding your coat while his hands found themselves underneath your blouse. He hikes your leg up to his side as he looks at you, down into your eyes as his lips and breath ghost over yours. Your breathing is so fast you’re afraid you might pass out. You can’t help yourself whimper. Spencer voice borders visceral.

“You’re gonna drive me fucking insane,” Spencer comments. You hold your eye contact.

“I always was,” you challenge Spencer still. You were determined to piss him off as much as humanly possible because you needed him to own you.

Spencer can’t hold out for another second as his lips press against yours. Open mouthed kisses that are carried over and drawn out, as Spencer’s hands grip your thighs - pushing his hips to yours. He’s so eager to touch you - fuck you over and over again until you’re too tired to speak. Spencer was ready to do things to you that he’d never let himself do before. When his teeth tug at you bottom lip, tongue let reckless along your lips as he kisses you deeper - you know he’s been thinking of you. He’s indulging his own selfish desires by kissing you this way and he knows it. You kiss him back with just as much frustration and anger.

It needs to be everything. It needs to fulfill your needs and desires that have been growing for the last few months and you’ll fuck him till sunrise, sit on his face and disrespect him till he gets it. That he’s yours just as much as your his.

You and Spencer kiss like there’s no oxygen left, but you pull back from Spencer to breathe. Your chest rising and falling as Spencer looks at you - really looks at you. His eyes are full of fire.

“Don’t you wanna talk, Spencer?,” your voice is biting. Spencer rolls his eyes.

“You start,” Spencer comments, picking you up as he buries his face in your neck. You smile for a second as he carries you to his bedroom.

“Was she good?,” it’s your first question of the night, Spencer shrugs as he lays you down. His fingers work to unbutton your blouse, eyes glued to your chest. Lace, it was new but not new enough to be for him. A purposeful move on your part as Spencer’s fingers work their way around your back, unclasping it and letting it fall from your frame. You lift your hands up as Spencer slides it off of you - eyes drinking in the sight of you. He hasn’t seen you on display like this and fuck did he miss it. He doesn’t know where to start so he starts at your neck. Kisses being pressed onto your jaw, you relish the way Spencer’s hands find you. They find themselves at your hips, encouraging them to wrap around his waist which you do without question.

Spencer’s lips are soft, his teeth scrape along patches of skin as you crane your neck up so he can get more room. He draws your skin between his lips, sucking softly before kissing the marks, admiring the broken capillaries underneath your skin for a few seconds before continuing. You almost wanna laugh at how much he adores them and they way they decorate your neck.

“She was good,” Spencer replies to you between actions. You’re a little distracted but you had so much you wanted to know still.

“Better than me?,” your voice is bitter. Spencer laughs, pressing his dick against you, before speaking.

“What if she was?,” Spencer replies back.

“Answer the question,” you demand. Spencer looks up at you as your expression shifts into one much more displaced.

He decided to be honest with you.

“Not better than you,” Spencer responds softly, mouth travel down to your chest. His mouth finds your nipples, his tongue flicking against t back and forth. The wet trail it leaves behind a cold sensation that made you a little dizzy to how easy they came to attention. Spencer’s fingers touch them carefully, brushing against them with rhythm. You moan, shivering at them.

You felt good - but you could feel something missing in the endeavor. Spencer was holding back and you could feel it, slowly reverting back to his old ways by keeping you out of his thoughts and you weren’t going to let that happen again.

“Spencer,” you warn. Spencer’s eyes are glassy, but you sit up to look at Spencer. He sits back on his knees and looks at you as you fix yourself up.

“Don’t do this shit,” you explain carefully. Spencer rubs his face with his hands, not saying anything.

You look at him, your chest bubbling with anger and borderline resentment as he stared at you. His expression is unreadable, as his eyes gaze to your body then flick back up to you.

“For fucksake, Spencer - I’m not doing this. Gimme my shit so I can leave,” you say beyond annoyed. This was one of the problems - that Spencer didn’t have the backbone to just be real with you. Not about how he felt, not about how you made him feel. He always counted on you to force the upper hand but not this time. Semantics required that both of you participate accurately to how you feel and it was always your job. When Spencer sees you move, he holds you back and looks into you. His eyes are dark.

“You’re so fucking aggravating, you know that,” Spencer leans into your neck, his hands on your back as you go to move away from him.

“Clearly not,” you complain. Spencer’s hands come around your neck, both of the around your throat as he forces you to look up at him.

“Color?,”

“Green,”

“You wanna know I’m holding back, Y/N,” he says into your ear. You’re too stubborn to choke out a yes.

“Because you’re such a fucking brat and you haven’t earned it,” He speaks into your ears. You can feel his hands grip tightly around the column of your throat.

“Everytime you open your mouth you manage to piss me off. You think it’s cute to be like that, don’t you? ,” His hands release from your neck as you look at him with suprise, trying to hold back your delight. He unzips his pants and pull his cock out.

”Get on your knees,”

“I don’t want to,” you lied between your teeth. You wanted to suck the soul out of Spencer’s body but you needed him to keep this up.

His hands grip your hair and pull tightly. A gasp escapes your mouth as your eyes flutter up to look at him.

“Funny, I don’t remember asking,” Spencer laughs sarcastically, he leans into your ear “Get on your fucking knees,��

You stand up stubbornly and do as your told, keeping your mouth shut as you watch Spencer stand up over you. He’s intimidating like this, his dick clear over your face. He’s huge, which is good and bad.

“Open,” Spencer asks. Your instinct is to open your mouth and stick your tongue out like Spencer had instructed you to do so many times before but you don’t. You look at him dumbly, watch as he hands cup your jaw, tilting your head to look at him.

“It’s only been a few months and you’ve forgotten where you belong so quickly,” Spencer hums. His hands rests on the side of your face as he looks down at you.

“Tyler wasn’t putting you in your place like you deserve to be, no wonder you’ve acted out so much,” he comments, annoyance clear in his voice.

His thumb presses against your lips, forcing your mouth open. You’re quick to oblige after that, your tongue stuck out as you await Spencer.

“Good girl,” The praise is music to your fucking ears. You knew he didn’t want to say, but he meant it and that’s what mattered. You rub your thighs together, as Spencer hits the tip of his cock against tor tongue.

“Before, I would’ve never done this, but you’ve just somehow managed to upset me so much that the prospect of you interrupting my thoughts is so annoying that I just have to make sure I shut you up,” Spencer explains lengthily.

Spencer eases his way to the back of your throat, his hand on the back of your head as he feels his dick hit the back of your throat. Spencer’s bigger than you remember him being, and the idea that he was going to fuck your throat made you sore, voice already disappearing. You just look up at him, through long lashes and Spencer groans.

“Touch yourself and I won’t fuck you for months,” Spencer warns. You damn yourself for wanting to obey him and doing as he says.

Spencer’s hips pullback before he snaps them back to the back of your throat. You choke on and Spencer relishes in the noise. Tears forming at the corners of your eyes as you managed to look up at him. Mascara runs under your eyes as Spencer falls into rhythm, filling your throat with his length at a constant speed. The sounds of you gagging around it filled the room as Spencer’s voice fell to your ears, spit spilling from the corners of your lips. You move your hands to wipe it away and Spencer’s stops you.

“Leave it, you’re prettier like that,”

Jesus Christ.

“You always manage to make me so angry, and I’m honestly kinda impressed by it,” Spencer says softly, groans mixed with his commentary. You hum for him to continue and the sensation makes his leg twitch.

“You’re just so fucking stubborn. If you would’ve told me you were so jealous, I would’ve ended things immediately,” he admits to you.

“Then Tyler came around and I lost my patience,” he explains, fingers brushing your hair out of your face.

“As far as I’m concerned, you’re mine,” Spencer repeats. You feel your heart melt.

“Seeing you with Tyler was lesson enough, so I’m gonna fuck you until every memory you had with him is shit compared to how I fuck you,”

“Every mark on your body, my dick down your throat - stretching you out when I fuck you. I should’ve know this was what you wanted really,” Spencer quips. You groan around him - absolutely turned on by his possession.

“You’re a slut for me, and me only, right love?,” Spencer asks you, pulling his dick out from the brutal session as you look to him with a bordering disgusting amount of adoration.

“Yes, sir,” your voice is hoarse as you look up at him. His eyes look at you with so much love as he smiles down at you.

“You’re so good for me,” Spencer says softly. He kisses you softly and slow and you could cry from how pliabld you felt.

“Sir, I love you,” your voice was fucked beyond belief. Spencer’s heart melts at the combination of title and sub space. He kisses you softly, petting your hair and wiping your chin of spit.

“I love you too, princess,” He says, making sure that you two talk about it later. “You still want it rough, sweetheart?,” he asks checking up on you. You appreciate the sentiment but you shake your head with vigor.

“If you don’t fuck me like a total brat I’m going to be unbelievably upset,” you say, the sad thought sobering you up immediately. He laughs aloud, kissing you again.

“Okay, what’s your safeword?,” Spencer asks.

“Gren for go, yellow for slow down, red for stop,” you repeat obediently. Spencer smiles.

“Get on the bed for me,” Spencer says softly. You oblige fast, holding your legs in the air as Spencer kneels between your legs. Your legs wrap around his shoulders pulling him closer and he chuckles.

Spencer’s rock hard, thinking about the outfit you chose for him. White cotton panties that left a mess all over your thighs and clit. The stain between your legs makes it hard for Spencer to slow down.

Spencer places a kiss on your clit, swollen and untouched, your cry immediately in his ear, your hands gripping his hair as he places kisses all over your clothed pussy, your skirt pushed over your stomach. His fingers hook into your underwear, sliding them down, and letting you maneuver your legs to slide them off. You go to take the skirt off but Spencer stops you.

“Leave it,” He breathes out. You nod, biting your lip as you feels Spencer lips work around your clit. He doesn’t make you wait long, and you’re not sure whether or not you should be grateful or scared for whats to come.

Spencers mouth is terribly skillfully, his tongue licking a long swipe - collecting arrousal in his mouth before spitting it back onto your clit. You were a goner before this but watching Spencer do something so filthy really pushed you to the edge. You grinded against his mouth but he pushes your hips down. He uses his fingers to spread you, eyeing how wet you are before closing his eyes - tongue placing long flat swipes along it. Your clit pulsates as he buries his face between your legs - tongue placing minmal pressure it as his head bob up and down. Spencer was so good at giving head it was kind of annoying. He’d draw you close to the edge a few times like that, watching as your legs shake before he slows down again -mpaying attention to your thighs and waist everytime he watched you come down from your high.

“Spencer, please let me cum - please,”

“Please what?,”

“Please sir,” your voice escapes you as you hear Spencer chuckles looking at you pathetically. He shakes his head.

“Brats don’t get to cum so soon, you wanna cum - you have to earn it remember?,” Spencer reminds. You whine at the reminder, immediately protesting.

“I did earn it, I did,” your argument is meaningless but you wanted to cum - needed to cum and if he doesn’t give it to you soon you were going to cry.

“Aw, is that so? You behaving while I facefucked you means you earned an orgasm huh? That’s news to me, love,” Spencer says sarcastically. You aren’t sure how you could be more turned on but here you were. Spencer could be so biting when he wanted to be and it drove you up the wall.

“God,” you were infuriatingly turned on. Spencer strips of his shirt and pants, leaving the both of you in similar positions. You lay in wait for further instructions, but catch Spencer admiring you for a second. You hide your face in your hand and Spencer refrains from saying anything. He wants to tell you you’re so cute and that he loves you but he’s still supposed to be being mean to you - so his hands are tied.

“Stand up,” Spencer instructs. You oblige, stretching a bit as you do. Spencer comes behind you, pressing his dick against your backside as his voice is drawn next to your ear.

“You wanna cum don’t you?,” Spencer asks. You nod, chewing the inside of your lip.

“But, I already told you you have to earn didn’t I?,” Spencer repeats, you nod again.

“Use your words,” Spencer orders. Your voice croaks out.

“Yes, sir.”

“Then bend over with your hands behind your back and take it for me, will you?,” Spencer instructs. You do as your told, bending down, placing your hands behind your back. You feel Spencer's hands grip around your wrist - holding you up as he lines himself up at your entrance. It’s a slow, aching burn. Your more wet than you can really fathom being, but Spencer manages to make you feel tight. Every inch of him slowly gnawing you from the inside but it feels so good. It aches so good - you don’t recall the last time you felt this fucking full. Spencer was sunken into you so deeply, it felt like he belonged there. Like every claim about your body is his when he fucks you wasn’t just showy shit-talk but facts, plain and simple. You didn’t really know it could feel that good to get fucked before this and it could’ve been anything that made it so maddening.

Spencer's hips pound you out. You can’t feel everytime he speeds up, slows down, moves up or draws the gesture out. Your body aches, but the position is so goddamn perfect - hitting your g spot, pressing up against it so forcefully - you feel your legs threaten to give out everytime he hits it. It’s fucking ridiculous - fucking ridiculous how good fucking one person could be but Spencer proved himself every damn time.

“Wanna fuck you on the bed, love,” Spencer leans down to whisper. You let Spencer rebalance you as you stand up, and Spencer pulls out. You whimper, missing the feeling of him in you, but you soon feel Spencer's arms around you.

“You’re too pretty to make such filthy noises, my love,” Spencer whispers “But that’s what sluts do, don’t they? Be pretty and filthy all at once,”

You’re really incoherent. You want to say something that makes sense, argue back and fight with him but your desire to cum so hard you black out is much stronger than any urge you may have had to fight. You don’t know how to do anything but whine, so high-pitched and needy you feel like your voice could crack and disappear. Spencer just laughs.

He lays down, and awaits you. You managed to get on the bed, facing away from Spencer as you throw your legs on either side of him. He bends his knee, as you turn to straddle his thigh - pressed against your clit. He clenches the muscle and you feel your legs shake.

“Sir, please tell me I’ve earned it,” are the first words that leave your lips as you begin griding against Spencers thighs, riding his dick to the point your thighs felt like they’d give out at any second. Spencer groans at the feeling of you convulsing, so close to the edge. Spencer just nods.

“You’re such a good girl for me, of course you can cum for me,” Spencer says lovingly, voice missing any trace of disrespectful strict dom Spencer. Replaced with adoring Spencer in an instant.

“Fuck, fuck - Spencer, thank you. Oh my god, thank you,” you hold onto Spencer's legs as your orgasm breaks the tension rope that was holding it back. You’re unknotted, the feeling of pleasure clawing at all the aches that appeared all over your body, your skin burning. Your stomach was full of butterflies, all releasing at the same time as your entire body convulsed around Spencer. It was earth-shattering - your body struggling to keep up as you cum the hardest you have in months. It was so fucking good, the type of orgasm that keeps you awake for days at a time.

You breathe out, steady yourself as you slide off of Spencer and get on all fours infront of him. You take his dick into your mouth, sucking on the tip before taking all of it in your mouth. Spencer groans aloud as he finished into your throat, and you swallow without hesitation. Spencer looks at you so adoringly right after, as you crawl onto his chest and lay on him. He wraps his arms around you and smiles at you so brightly, it could blind you.

“You did so good for me, I’m so proud of you,” Spencer praises. You blush hiding in his chest, looking at him with disgraceful amounts of affection.

“You ready for aftercare?,”

You nod lazily, before Spencer sits up and whisks you away to the shower.

___

You knew that you were in love with Spencer a while ago - but until now you hadn’t realize just how much you missed him. His fingers were massaging shampoo into your hair, the shower lightly pouring on the both of you as you made idle and loving conversation. There was a suprising about of things to catch up on. Spencer kissed your shoulders as he continued on.

“I liked Sarah, you know,” you say softly. Spencer is confused by your sudden statement.

“I really did - but at the time I just figured we were just having sex so it made me jealous when I saw you with her. I didn’t know how to tell you so I just let it be but it was killing me,” you confess honestly, wiping your nose as you sniffled. Spencer wrapped his arms around your back and kissed your neck - softly pressing kisses to all the bruises from the moments before. You leaned into him and sighed and he held you for a long while.

“We were never anything more than casual,” Spencer assures you. You nod, turning around to face him. Your arms envelope Spencer, holding him close to you with your face carefully in the crook of his neck.

“I know, but still, sex is just sex and the rest is semantics isn’t it,”

“Well, yeah. It means something to me when I do this to you. You’re my world, so it means I love you. Maybe it looks the same but it feels so different, it feels right when it’s you,” Spencer says sadly. You look up at him tear eyed and he smiles at you.

“I love you, Spencer,” you say softly. He hugs you and makes you feel so safe. Even after all the words and glances and difficulties Spencer shows you in bed - he gives you twice that in love without question. He makes you feel whole, even when he was the one who unraveled you. He adores you, so clearly and you adore him too.

___

taglist: @cynbx @zephyr-studiesjp @skrrrrrrrrrrt @reid-187 @louistwinslover @nomajdetective

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #dom!spencer #Criminal Minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds self insert #lmfaooo this was a wild ride to write but hope yall like lmfao

604 notes · View notes

yeah-klave · 3 years

Text

A Short History of What Happened - Chapter 3

Written, with love, for EnKlave Fest 2021. @enklavefest

Catch up with the story so far: Chapter 1; Chapter 2

Prompt: Omegas aren’t allowed to join the army, but then Omega!Klaus gets dropped into Vietnam and has to pose as a Beta. He manages quite well, right until he goes into heat. Alpha!Dave is protective and incredibly aroused/horny.

Genre: Omega verse, smut, developing relationships, slow burn, undercover, misunderstandings, secretly in love.

Word length: This chapter: 1k

Warning: This chapter is suitable for all audiences, but the entire work, when posted, will contain explicit sexual content.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of The Umbrella Academy characters or settings.

***************************************************************

For the remainder of the journey, Dave fought hard to keep a dopey smile from spreading across his face. But, riding the giddy high of his first conversation with Klaus, Dave found it difficult to keep his expression neutral.

In the melee after disembarking, Dave kept his eye on the skinny, waif-like figure moving through the crowd. Dave’s protective alpha instincts were on high alert and he watched the figures moving around Klaus suspiciously, warily noting that their larger frames appeared to dwarf his in every way.

Dave saw Klaus look around nervously and then anxiously tug his collar tighter around his neck. During their brief conversation on the truck, it had seemed that some of Klaus’ anxiety had dissipated, but in the crush of bodies and the gathering darkness, Dave could sense it mounting again with force.

Once again, the almost overpowering impulse to protect the omega rushed through Dave. He had a physical urge to shield his small body from the dangers surrounding him. Dave had to dig his fingernails into the palms of his hands to remain where he was, the sting of pain helping him to focus. Afterall, nothing would inadvertently give Klaus’ identity away faster than a full-scale, physiology-fuelled alpha meltdown. Dave knew he was smarter than that. But that didn’t make ignoring his instincts feel any easier.

So when Dave found out that he’d been assigned the first shift of lookout duty that night, he took a steadying breath, acknowledging to himself that a little time and space would be good for him. A few hours on his own, in the quiet of the night, would help him get his head straight and his thoughts in order.

Walking away from camp, however, Dave couldn’t say he was particularly surprised when a sickening wave of panic and jealousy washed over him.

Logically, Dave knew that taking a literal and metaphorical step back was probably the best – and safest – course of action for both him and Klaus. However, he couldn’t help looking back over his shoulder at the easy bustle of early evening and the unit beginning to gather around the campfire to warm their ration cans. He saw Klaus hovering on the edge of the group, once again looking a little lost and out of his depth.

If Dave had been there, he would have caught Klaus’ eye and nodded to the empty spot next to him. Klaus would have wandered over and perched delicately on the upturned crate. As the men around them chatted and smoked and shared stories of beta girls back home while they waited for their food to warm through, Dave would have feigned interest in his own gloopy can of ham and lima beans and then tried to casually draw Klaus into conversation. He’d have started with a few innocuous comments, and when he managed not to say anything that scared him away, Dave would have quietly broached some of the bigger questions. In the relaxed hum of evening, he might have finally got a few answers to the questions surrounding Klaus’ sudden – and, frankly, mysterious – arrival.

Dave took a deep breath, turned his head forwards and continued trudging to his assigned sentry position on the perimeter of the camp.

***

Three hours later and Dave was ready to admit, he was not having a good night. Usually, he quite enjoyed this duty. Living in such close quarters with so many other men, the opportunity for a little space and a few hours of quiet contemplation was more than welcome.

Tonight, however, Dave’s thoughts were buzzing and he felt oddly jittery and unsettled. He took a deep breath and tried to focus on the ambient jungle noises and the low whir of insects.

It didn’t work. All he wanted was to be back at camp.

He tried to convince himself it was just because he was tired and was looking forward putting his feet up on his cot and closing his eyes as the unit traded banter and a radio played quietly in the background.

But Dave couldn’t even fool himself. He knew it wasn’t anything to do with that. He just wanted to be closer to Klaus.

This whole, weird, unusual situation had set off an itch in Dave’s brain. Rather than having a calming effect, the quiet of the night around him only gave him space for his thoughts to run wild. As the warm, sticky air pressed against his skin like a wet cloth, he reluctantly ran through his growing list of questions again, trying to untangle the facts from the confusing swirl of intoxicating pheromones and consuming alpha urges.

He just needed to be near Klaus, to look him in the eye – those beautiful, hypnotic eyes – and ask him what was going on. He needed to hear Klaus explain in that high, breathy voice. He needed to look deep into his eyes and then, as the words poured out of him, he needed to let his gaze wander down to those full, soft lips. He needed to reach out and cup that perfect, peach-skin cheek in the palm of his hand. He needed to lean forwards…

Dave swallowed thickly and shook his head a little, feeling the uncomfortable heat of his cheeks and the excited flutter and swell deep within him.

No, Dave told himself. No. Now was not the time or the place for those kind of thoughts.

He took a long, deep, cleansing breath through his nose, then released it slowly out of his mouth.

Tomorrow, he thought to himself. Whatever happens, I’ll try and talk to him tomorrow.

Little did he know, however, that within twenty-four hours, he would have unwittingly and irrevocable changed the course of their relationship forever.

*****************************************************

Read more of my work here: yeah-klave tumblr master list or on AO3.

#klave #klaus hargreeves #dave katz #klaus/dave #klaus x dave #the umbrella aademy #tua

17 notes · View notes

lumau · 3 years

Note

Can we have some 28 for Froststorm after yulour cute detail the other day?

YES! Thank you for letting me write more about the dragon neck kisses!

This is somewhat of a sequel, a few months after the last scene. It turned out way different than I thought... Apparently Li Ming has some issues, and soft Ao Shun is a thing now? I’m also adding a few bonus hcs re the dragon neck bites / kisses at the end.

kiss marks the spot

The scene was calm and beautiful in its simplicity. Li Ming sat at the clean, modern table, his long silver hair falling smoothly over the back of the equally sleek designer chair. The skylight window let in the bright morning, suggesting another sunny day ahead. The swift tapping of his long fingers on the keys of his laptop was the only sound in the silent, minimalistic parlour. Ao Shun, who had just got up, strolled over to him. He knew Li Ming would sense his presence even though he had his back turned towards him. As a dragon king, being noticed was part of his nature.

"Good morning."

He lay his hands, covered in a dark scale pattern and each finger ending in a perfectly manicured claw, on Li Ming's shoulders and placed a kiss on the top of his head. He let a single claw glide under the open collar of Li Ming's shirt and tenderly ran it across the smooth skin underneath. Li Ming did not look up from his work, but willingly tilted his head to one side. Ao Shun paused, as he noticed a bruise on Li Ming's bared neck. Things had gotten a bit rough last night. He carefully brushed it with his claw, before bending down to touch his lips to it.

"I marked you," he rumbled against the other dragon's skin, slipping his arms around his shoulders and chest to pull him back against him.

"I know," Li Ming gave a little sigh, that could have shown indignation at the disruption of his work, had it not been for the twitch in the corners of his mouth that gave away his pleasure, "and thereby forced me to wear high collared shirts for the next days. You know they don't go so well with my ties."

Ao Shun chuckled with a thunderous purring noise. He always enjoyed the effect that had if he brought his mouth close to the other’s ear. Li Ming squirmed free from his grip and tried to focus back on the email he had been writing.

"If I get this contract out within the next hour, we should have that deal with Taiwan in the bag," he said.

"Scrap the deal, I will renounce that artist. What I want is your eyes and lips on me, now."

After a pointed pause, a silent expression of his disfavour towards abandoning the work, Li Ming turned away from his laptop. Ao Shun pulled him up from his chair and leaned back against the desk, drawing him close. The red of his eyes met Li Ming's light ones, and a smile curled his mouth, slightly shifting the scales on his cheeks. It were these rare, minute moments of defiance, in which Li Ming's real beauty and strength shone through his usual icy composure, always perfect and sharp like a crystal blade. Ao Shun enjoyed it immensely when he dropped some of those outer layers and entrusted him with what lay beyond.

"Kiss me," he said with a smirk.

Li Ming held his gaze for another moment before leaning in, but Ao Shun tilted his head sideways, exposing his strong, dark neck instead. When nothing happened, he looked up again to find Li Ming staring at him blankly, eyes wide and bright.

Ao Shun was not too surprised, in fact, by Li Ming's reaction. He had noticed that while they regularly exchanged all sorts of tender touches and intimate guestures, the other dragon had never kissed his neck the way he did. His provocation just now had been spontaneous, but he wanted to get to the bottom of the matter after all.

"Why don't you reciprocate?" he asked in a low voice.

Li Ming blinked at him, scandalized. "How could I...?" he stammered.

Ao Shun's face grew sombre, eyes slitting. "Li Ming. You have been sharing my bed for months now, not to mention your years of serving me. But this you won't do?"

"My lord, Ao Shun, I would not disobey if you really wanted me to..."

Ao Shun knew that Li Ming automatically retorted to polite formality when he was shaken. Still, he could not help the flare of anger that resulted in a gathering of quickly thickening clouds outside the windows, blocking the morning sun.

"I will never order you to partner me, Li Ming." There was a rumble outside, echoed in Ao Shun's low voice. "Have I misread your intentions? Do you not like me that way?"

Li Ming's gaze dropped. He shifted uncomfortably. A static electricity filled the air.

"I cannot express how I feel for you," he murmured. "It would not be appropriate."

"Appropriate?" A bolt of lightning parted the gray clouds above the skylight. Ao Shun took a deep breath. Li Ming's almost stubborn restraint was aggravating.

There was a pause. When Li Ming looked up at Ao Shun, his eyes shone red in his stern face. "You can have me any way you want. You don't even need to ask. I would do anything for you. We can't simply pretend to be equal."

"Li Ming," Ao Shun's face softened, and he reached out a hand to touch the dragon's cheek, "I am offering this part in my life to you, because I want you close to me. You don't need to worry about impropriety." He paused, "Is it possible that you just find it hard to express how you feel?"

The silver dragon blushed a deep crimson. The low growling thunder ebbed off, as Ao Shun pulled Li Ming into a tight embrace. "Come here, you infuriating ice block."

They held each other close, and Ao Shun could feel with some satisfaction that Li Ming was relaxing against his body. Suddenly a beeping sound cut through the silence, almost making them jump. Li Ming reached out for his sleek, flat phone on the table.

"Ah," he swiped across the screen, "it is your first appointment, the conference call in B.13, in 10 minutes."

Ao Shun sighed, disappointed by the prospect of returning to their business-like manner all too soon. He shifted to his full human form, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt with his now clawless fingers.

Li Ming set his phone down and paused. He looked back, but instead of striding off to pull up the files in preparation for the meeting, he stepped closer once more and began to tie the king's tie in a perfect knot.

Ao Shun smiled softly, as he watched Li Ming's efficient fingers work. He leaned forward to touch their foreheads together.

"I did not mean to get upset and pressure you", he said. "Take your time."

.......................................................................................

Hc time!

Neck bites / kisses are very intimate and a sign of trust and respect between dragons (close to the pulse; baring the throat; life & death stuff) During mating rituals they might be a means of ongoing, mutual consent. The implications of a bite or kiss to the neck include entrusting ones body to the other. In human form, dragons are much more sensitive to neck kisses (and other touch), as the skin is softer and not covered in scales. Neck kisses might be an expression of sexual and emotional desire or intimate trust and commitment. While dragons are sexually pretty open, they would not exchange neck kisses or bites casually. They are either for sealing a contract / commitment or similar to saying "I love you" in a meaningful way. Between Ao Shun and Li Ming, neck kisses have got a special meaning. Exchanging these in (semi-)human form becomes a bonding ritual. Li Ming does not think it's appropriate for him to kiss Ao Shun's neck (yet) though, due to their different ranks. He would never consider requesting so much power over Ao Shun. He does not think he needs to agree or reciprocate either, as he is sworn to Ao Shun anyways. He does really like it when Ao Shun gives them though, sometimes very soft, sometimes rather teethy. Ao Shun wants to demonstrate his honest commitment and respect for Li Ming by granting him the honour and finds it somewhat difficult to not feel rejected when he declines. Ao Shun is also often exasperated by Li Ming's cold formality and his difficulty expressing his personal feelings.

#fanfiction #The invisible library #froststorm #dragon kisses hcs

12 notes · View notes

nutty1005 · 4 years

Text

Xiao Zhan: It’s Your Turn

Translator’s Note: This article comes from VogueMe Magazine 2020 Feb Issue.

Currently, the trend in the entertainment business is to get famous overnight, the statistics dictate everything – a drama, a variety show, a song… all of which could give birth to a super idol, fame, commercial value and opportunities that come along with it. In 2019, the drama “The Untamed”, adapted from an internet novel, became this window of opportunity. This is the story of a young man who received the opportunity. And like other idols created by their era, his fanbase grew immensely, radiating throughout the youth, his name etched in time. All of these simply points to this – it’s now Xiao Zhan’s turn.

The summer of 2015, Xiao Zhan had not yet realized that he was going to job switch from the design firm opened by his teacher. The teacher did not feel so as well – as Xiao Zhan left for the talent search variety show, he told him, “Go play, come back to work once you’ve been eliminated.”

The show was called “X-FIRE”, and positions itself as a large scaled youth talent development inspirational show. During broadcast, the description says “16 secretly trained youths painstakingly selected from a few thousand 16-24 year olds”. At that time, Xiao Zhan was 23 years old – nearing the upper age limit.

Xiao Zhan just wanted to “play around a bit”. He felt that he would be just touring for a round, and he would be back after a week. As the former class Cultural Committee Member in his university, Xiao Zhan loved singing, won quite a few inter-school cultural activities awards, but never trained in dance-singing. Xiao Zhan, who graduated in graphic design, learnt drawing since young, but never thought of becoming an artist, because “it is hard to survive as an artist, you still need to earn a living”. He was willing to lead a simple life and go to work everyday, with a direct and clear life plan – as a graphic designer, do his work well, then open his own firm.

The summer 4 years later, the name “Xiao Zhan” meant a lot of different things – a member of a pop group, the lead actor of one of the most popular drama, the owner of a Weibo account with more than 22million followers, or as what Chinese entertainment business puts it – a “top traffic”. The topics and imagery surrounding him includes – Xiao Zhan’s looks, Xiao Zhan’s design talent, Xiao Zhan’s professionalism, Xiao Zhan’s role as Wei Wuxian…

And like the other idols who broke out in this era, he has his own set of records – moderators of Bilibili (a video hosting site in China) nagged that his drama fans uploaded so much of his videos that they “almost see him 800 times a day”, Xiao Zhan was jokingly proclaimed as “The Man who caused the Bloodbath of Bilibili”; he became the cover person of a magazine, and the two mobile sales platform app broke down consecutively on the day of the sales; his popularity in 2020 only got higher – on 9 Jan, according to Tian Mao statistics (TN: Taobao eShopping Mall), the Portrait magazine, where he was the cover person, sold out 100,000 copies in 3 seconds, overall sales exceeding 13million Chinese yuan, a poster was spread all around the internet with the accompanying text “a fandom that brought paper media back from its grave” – this is the Xiao Zhan statistics.

But different from the breakout idols, Xiao Zhan did not encounter major controversies (TN: This was published early Feb), and his career did not seem to go through much fluctuations. He never thought that he would be at this point – “Sometimes you’re not ready, but life has already pushed you to ahead. What you can do is to quickly keep up with the pace.” He is now at the stage where any of his actions are “studied under a magnifying glass”, but he feels that his stress levels are not as high as his previous few years, “the past few years, I had the drive but nowhere to use that, now I know how to work hard.”

During the initial auditions, Xiao Zhan still continued to work as per normal, go onstage – sing – leave, which was quite fun. After the selection down to 32 persons, he did not think much of it, and left his work to go to Beijing to practice the dance for the variety show. After the selection down to 16 persons, he practiced everything – dancing, vocals and flexibility training.

He did not think much of what would happen later. The winter in Beijing was especially cold, after the show recording, it would be around 3am or 4am, and there would be fans waiting for him outside of the studio – Xiao Zhan felt quite sorry for them, “All are young girls, it’s so cold and so dark.” He felt surreal having fans. When the 16 of them went to Zhejiang TV “Running 2016” New Year Eve performance, he saw the stage and felt that it was especially big and he was especially happy, and kept making sure he remembered the moves so as not to make any mistakes. After the final battle, Xiao Zhan’s team lost, but he and a few of his teammates were rescued by fan votes.

In 2016, Xiao Zhan debuted as part of X-Nine. During the signing of the contract, Xiao Zhan finally realized that he was going to make a career switch. “When you look at it now, 23 year old is also still a child, but no one took me as a child then.” – Xiao Zhan was the oldest in the group, he made his own decision to sign the contract, he thought that if it did not work out, he could go back to work, there was no need for him to paint himself into a corner.

3½ years after his debut, Artist Xiao Zhan still had to explain to interviewers his obsession with going to work. That day, he had a pimple on the left side of his face, and the makeup artist was applying essences on his face. The makeup room was simply a curtained area in the basement of the Art Gallery, full of passing staff, the editor was discussing the shooting schedule with his manager, the stylist was here delivering clothes, and he sat there with his eyes closed, allowing others to apply whatever it is on his face.

Xiao Zhan’s eyes are long, and also wide, he is very fair and his side profile is graceful and beautiful. With his looks, one would imagine that his personality would be cooler, more introvert, with mild melancholy, like those prince-like male leads in romantic dramas. But his personality does not really match his looks – he is serious, disciplined, he does not talk much initially, but overall he is a relaxed person, and quite funny occasionally.

“A lot of art students do not want to go to work,” the interviewer said. Xiao Zhan learnt drawing since young, some of his happiest moments in his childhood would be to win drawing awards or to have his works praised by his teachers, other unimportant happy moments includes had a good lunch, went to an amusement park, or had a liking for a girl in high school.

“They never went through the society school of hard knocks,” Xiao Zhan said. He described himself as someone who went through “quite a fair bit of knocking”. Since young, his father thought him to be independent, taught him budgeting, and told him stories about Bill Gates’s children… “I wanted to say, god, you’re not Bill Gates.” Despite all these, Xiao Zhan stopped using his parents’ money ever since his university graduation.

Xiao Zhan not only learnt drawing, he also learnt violin, go and Chinese calligraphy… pushed him to study in “National Key” middle school, “National Key” high school (TN: National Key refers to the top range of schools in China). He was an obedient child, but as a standard art student, Xiao Zhan was better in humanity subjects, and his math was not good, hence all the while he had always been the mid-bottom of the pack, which worried his family of 3 quite a fair bit.

Studying graphic design in university, Xiao Zhan felt that his university life was quite comfortable – everyday before class he would adjust himself a bit, although in the end it seemed like it did not work well after all, but at least his results were decent. Xiao Zhan emphasized that he was “definitely not the school hottie”. He was a good student. After he had learnt what the teachers taught, he started a studio on the side. The design studio would take on poster and logo design work; the photography studio only have 3 persons, Xiao Zhan did the photo taking, the other 2 did lighting. Before graduation he went to intern in a design firm, hence it was easy for him to find a job. Within a year of working, his monthly salary was around 4,000 to 5,000 Chinese Yuan, which would quite alright for Chongqing at that point in time.

Being part of a boy group releasing albums, shooting web dramas. The way to do things right was quite different from his previous job – his characterization in the group is a warm guy, although Xiao Zhan did not like characterization, he seriously fulfilled his role, and he was obedient. When someone in the variety show suggested that he lose some weight, he replied “I’m quite thin already I still have to lose weight”. As a commoner, Xiao Zhan was 183cm and 150lbs, his mother would always say he was too thin, and he felt so himself as well. That person showed him the film, “the camera lens is a really scary thing, I literally looked like a ball”. It was not easy for Xiao Zhan to lose weight, so he did it brutally. He was so hungry that he dreamed that he was eating. Xiao Zhan is now 127lbs, but this was not his thinnest.

“How was it like after debut?” “Unoccupied.” (TN: Xiao Zhan used the Chinese phrase “picking at his feet” to describe the state of emptiness.) Xiao Zhan’s words were paced and gentle, most were caught unawares by the sudden switch to casual humor, he might not be laughing, after others laughed he would continue his conversation seriously.

After his debut, he felt that he was freer than the times when he was still an intern. But he did not allow himself to stay free, he took vocal and dancing lessons, making sure that he could do sing-dancing to the best of his abilities. But he was still a bit lost – when he was still a designer, his future was clear and straight, but after his debut he had no clue where his future led to.

“I could count the number of dramas I’ve acted in with my fingers,” Xiao Zhan said. After which, he started counting them – “Battle through the Heavens”, “The Wolf”, “Oh! My Emperor”, “The Untamed”, “Joy of Life”, “Jade Dynasty”, “The Oath of Love”… the earliest work “Super Star Academy” was not counted – It was shot with his boy group, he was still fat, and he had no clue what he was doing.

Acting was his own idea. When he started auditioning he had not even attended any performance classes, he saw the director, took a piece of paper that indicated the scene and lines, and just went for it. Xiao Zhan did not feel that it was awkward, it was something he wanted to do, so he would do so without any inhibitions, and grasp every opportunity to do so. Singing was something that he always liked, his first single after debut was a song voted by his fans. With the stage and his fans, with attention, he would always want to do it better. Acting was something totally foreign to him.

The first turning point was “The Wolf”. When auditioning, within 2 hours, Xiao Zhan had tried many roles – the bounty hunter who was threatening someone, the prince whose brother was about to be executed… Xiao Zhan won the role of the bounty hunter – the 4th character on the character roll, Ji Chong. During the pre-shoot training he was still acting in “Battle through the Heavens”, daytime he would be shooting, nighttime he would be having performance classes. He did not feel it was tough then, as long as he had time to sleep. “Work is something I am willing to do, I will only feel very motivated, tomorrow must be done better than today.” Xiao Zhan liked Wei Wuxian, felt that he was vivid. When acting, during the first month he would be second guessing himself everyday, is the portrayal accurate? Would the audience accept it? Xiao Zhan checked with the director everyday. After a month, he stopped asking, he felt that he was Wei Wuxian. Dramas adapted from web novels are rarely positively received, his hopes for Wei Wuxian was that “I hope people would not dislike the character because of my acting”.

The summer of 2019, the drama aired, and the real turning point arrived.

Billions of fans, frequent trending topics on Weibo, appearing on multiple magazine covers and even causing the sales platform app to crash…

He is one of the few artists in Weibo that sets his account as “only posts in the past 6 months are viewable”, but it did not affect his popularity. His interaction with his fans are witty, the statistics are more than enough to attract attention. Last year on the Chinese Valentine’s Day (TN: 7th of the 7th Lunar month), he posted a photo informing his fans that he had put on weight, his pants folded up, legs in the swimming pool. One of his fans replied, “Fine, good to know that your leg hairs are doing fine.” This reply was boosted to the top with 190,000 likes.

“After watching ‘The Untamed’ and ‘Joy of Life’ and then meeting you, I feel like you are very similar to your performance method, calm. You are like an AI, whatever you do you’re especially precise.” “You’re highly professional.” The interviewer concluded.

At the start of the conversation, Xiao Zhan just finished an exterior photo shoot, we were both seated, leaning forward and warming hands above the radiator. He said, “Artist is just a job, I don’t like artists to place themselves on a pedestal, just like today you are the reporter who is interviewing me, today I am someone being interviewed. Cooperation, is just so that we can complete our jobs, coming in for the photo shoot is my job today, every single staff is also executing this job, it’s just the role is different.” Because he went through the society “school of hard knocks”, he respected and understood the truth behind teamwork.

As someone who once had to face clients, he knew how it felt as someone at the receiving end of endless unreasonable requests, and therefore he did not want to be someone like that. His standards for work is consistent – high efficiency, good results, everyone is happy, no one has to serve another person. Also “once I am done I will knock off, after I knock off no one should come find me, let me be alone.”

“Everyone works to fulfill their needs, they have entertainment after they knock off, they have freedom and privacy. As a public figure, artist, the product is yourself, the works are also yourself. You have to output materials, contribute works, and then gain the opportunity to grow, for higher social status, value and better lifestyle. For some people, besides their career, they also included their dreams,” the interviewer said.

“The understanding is very thorough. You win some, you lose some, after becoming a public figure it meant that there are multiple pairs of eyes staring at you, anything you do would be judged. Whether it is positive or misguided. Truth and falsehoods, isn’t this circle just like this? Whether the rumors or the gossip is true or false, who knows?” Xiao Zhan said.

On 5 Jan 2020, Xiao Zhan was working in a sculpture garden in Shanghai Songjiang, shooting a series of photographs to be the cover of VogueMe. It was cold, the gallery’s doors were open, and the wind blew from the first floor to the basement. Everyone was wearing winter jackets.

In the morning, beside the metal sculpture on the first floor, Xiao Zhan and model Chen Yu faced the camera separately. As the shutters rolled, they did not exchange glances or touch each other. As the photographer requested the model to sit on the ground, Xiao Zhan said his only sentence to her, “Careful your head.” and used his hands to shield her head from the protruding portion of the sculpture.

That day’s Weibo opening advertisement was also Xiao Zhan. As per the photographer’s request, he tilted his head up slightly and gave a cold gaze, or side glancing a faraway place, but also at the same time, he was smiling sweetly on mobile phone screens, promoting a series of instant food products.

In the afternoon, the team went to the exterior, to a concrete sculpture beside the gallery entrance, where he and the model stood in front of, facing the camera. The arm was on the model’s shoulders, and the two of them looked at the camera – he was even thinner than the model. In yet another set, the staff erected a ladder to one of the rooftop grass patches on the gallery buildings. An ice cold rock slab was selected, which the assistant padded using a jacket, and tested the light levels. After which, it was Xiao Zhan’s turn. He was wearing a red jacket with blue shirt, wearing a baseball cap, lying on his side on the rock slab, supporting his head with his arm. In between shoots, the assisted would hand him a long wool top, with deep blue diamond checks, quite thin. The top was flipped over, he slipped his hands into the sleeves to protect the front of his body, his assistant handed over another water bottle that contained warm mineral water to warm his hands. Xiao Zhan basically did not speak, he placed the bottle on his neck to gain some warmth.

An artist’s job, the profession included losing weight, staying hungry, freezing and staying up overnight, wearing winter clothes in summer is the norm, not drinking water prior to any shoots to prevent water bloating on screen… people who do those well may become famous, if they look good or are lucky they may become even more famous. Now Xiao Zhan has an opportunity, and like his previous job, he chose to be down-to-earth and do it well.

In the evening, the green screens were setup in basement 2 of the gallery. 17:44, Xiao Zhan was in position, his manager reminded the stylist to take note of the clothes’ proportion – “The sweater is too long.” Hence, the sweater was folded up. After the camera assistant brought down the Apple machines, the cameraman adjusted his machines, and started shooting the video. Quite a few scenes were done in one take, in the middle there was a break, the manager and the camera crew were discussing camera positions. This was the 10th hour of the shoot, Xiao Zhan sat behind the table, laid his head on a prop gift box and waited quietly – we could not see if he was tired or not.

The shoot ended, and the sky was already dark. Xiao Zhan has not yet knocked off. The media had ended their work, the manager was darting around, arranging for Xiao Zhan to change out and get on his car, to rush to his rehearsal that night – they were already behind schedule. Both teams bid their farewell, Xiao Zhan warm and gentle, still unclear whether he was tired. After less than an hour’s journey, he would need to go onstage to sing, and thereafter, his work would be to complete the costume testing of 20 different sets of clothes.

The Initial Cold

The time set for the shoot was 9am, Xiao Zhan arrived at the rural set at 8.30am. His overnight flight arrived only the day before, meeting Xiao Zhan on the cold morning of a deep southern winter, his spirits looked great, his face having the same kindness as usual. The endless job schedules taught him how to conserve his energy – no casual conversation, not even to his staff; take every opportunity to eat or rest; absolutely no procrastination, ensure efficiency, do his best to accommodate and complete every job. He is a highly disciplined and professional artist.

In this shoot, the warm, gentle smiles have been replaced by cold, sharp glares, the metal and concrete sculptures gave him a few minutes of inner emotions and narrative, his scenes with the model was almost like he was acting in the set of “Last Year at Marienbad”. Xiao Zhan displayed emotions and charm very different from usual self – this is the power of an actor. The darker filters and monochrome imagery restored the caution that the youth of his age would have, it was the concealed feelings of a sunny boy. With such an idol, not only he can warm your hearts, there are still much to expect from him.

#xiao zhan #sean xiao #xiaozhan #肖战

97 notes · View notes

crystal-moon-101 · 4 years

Photo

My redesigns for this popular trio!

The Secret Generator 10 (Or Celebrity Trio but that doesn’t really work for me because of Zak...) I’ve been meaning to get around to doing this, since I am really fond of these three boys. With Zak and Rex both being part of my top two shows of all time. Sorry Ben....

-Zak Saturday-

He was the most fun working with. His warm colour palette isn’t something I work with often, but I think I did alright. He also as some small details you might notice, like the fangs, eyes and scales.

Notes:

14 Years Old

5′5 (Will only grow to be 5′8. Which confuses him since both sides of his family have very tall genes. Ulraj pokes fun at him, saying all that height is going towards his ‘Kur Form’)

Dead on the inside.

Aggressively Pansexual

His human side has been growing reptilian features. Noticeable fangs, scales growing around his lower neck, around his chest and upper back/shoulders, pure orange eyes with pupils that can become thin slits and a slight forked tongue.

Even also displays some reptile behaviour. E.g, soaking up sunlight on a rock, alert nature, able to stand still as a statue. (He’s done these things since he was young. His parents just thought it was something he picked up from Komodo.)

The light that forms around his eyes when using his powers have darkened the skin around his eyes. (Suggested by my friend)

He is oddly thin and lanky, but it’s often hard to see because of the baggy clothes he wears.

That being said, he’s a lot stronger than you think he is. Can easily lift people twice his size.

Constantly has to get new hair ties. They keep breaking because 1. Every time his powers cause all of his hair to flow, the tie snaps. 2. Working out in the wild, it keeps getting snagged by tree branches or slipping off when he tumbles downhills.

While quiet and casual outside of battles, he will become a lot like his mother on the field.

Has freckles from his maternal side. His mother doesn’t have them, but Doyle does.

Will casually mention his ridiculously and scary adventures like they’re nothing, not because he’s bragging, but because he truly doesn’t understand what normal really is.

So use to being grabbed by the scruff of his shirt that he will always go limp when you grab him like that, much like a baby animal.

While he can act very eerie and strange, he’s a very sweet and understanding guy.

That being said, he can be hella scary when he wants to be.

Don’t mess with his family or he will send an army of Grootslangs to your house.

Still trying to figure out his placement in life and what Kur was really meant to be.

After being taught by his family and uncle, he went to Tsul 'Kalu to be his new mentor.

-Rex Salazar-

I think I changed him the least, but I added extra details and made his shirt, pants and shoes into a one-piece suit. It always baffles me how he can pull off this colour scheme so well.

And while I didn’t draw it here. I would definitely make his pure EVO form a lot smaller. Make him come across more like a monstrous zombie robot thing. The reason why is because those EVO forms he had just felt like they belonged to different shows, like transformers. A more creature design would fit better, I feel.

Notes:

16 Years Old

6′1 (Will grow to be 6′5. Yeeeeeee, he’s a big guy.)

Lady killer~

Best wingman and even offers pretend dates to help you.

Can always hear and feel the technology around him. Strange to everyone else, but he’s learnt to live with it. Even comes in handy when trying to find a good wifi connection.

Knows when to cut the bullcrap.

He does have a bit of a science brain, but he uses it differently than his family had.

Constantly jumping between worlds. Sometimes even tossed by someone.

Talks in his sleep, mostly reciting nanite binary coding.

Lonely lad and child solider, great mix, right?...

Goes all out with holidays. He once, somehow, got real snow in Providence. No one knows how to this day.

Hates lightening.

Has nearly called Holiday and Six mum and dad multiple times.

Has a lot more abilities he has yet to discover. (Including turning people EVO.)

Never asked for any of this, but, eh, what ya gonna do

Is always overexcited when doing normal things. (Werids out Noah a lottt.)

You’re endangered if he decided to use his full raw power. (Key signs to look out for is a large amount of circuit patterns covering him, glowing eyes, tips of his hair glowing too, sharp metal growths and technology around you flashing like crazy.)

Loves Imagine Dragon.

Sharp eyelashes.

Just wants hugs, give him hugs!

Always frustrated when someone from his past tries talking to him about the past. Sometimes he wonders if people forget.

Skilled drawer and smooth singer.

Has an EVO pet (Her name is Siri, Btw)

Some have compared him to being a living, breathing nanite.

Eager to have family game nights! “Poker doesn’t count, Bobo...”

Once had a malfunction, his whole body was out of wack. (Noah laughs about it and even has some recordings, much to Rex’s dismay.)

Has a civilian outfit that Noah put together. (He refuses to take off his goggles, however.)

-Ben Tennyson-

Now, I already made a redesign for him, along with Gwen, Julie and Kevin (Both for teen and kid versions). I used the same look, just adjusted some details and colours.

Notes:

15 Years Old

5′9 (And he stays that height. He peaked in height very young, but stop growing quickly. This does annoy him.)

Dumbass with bad impulse control.

Even he’s confused by how he keeps attracting women.

Had a rather lonely childhood with many bullies. (It’s why he often seeks attention, he’s afraid of being alone and forgotten again.)

It’s also what made him jealous of Gwen when they were young. Most treated her like the better of the two.

Pretty crap at sharing his feelings. He would rather play it off as a jerk, then go and drown himself in smoothies...

A secret momma’s boy. “Benny Bear” As his mother likes to call him.

Has an interesting dynamic with Azmuth. Despite their arguments, they balance each other well. Others have even seen them taking care of each other (Almost like father and son), but the pair will always deny this and say it’s ‘strictly’ professional.

Surprisingly great with kids. (This was truly noticed when seen around his 14 baby chills.)

In the future, he will have a nasty wound on the battlefield, which will result in the Omnitrix becoming his new arm and merging with him.

When he takes thing seriously, you know shits going down!

Has a german shepherd name Boston.

Likes to call Vilgax ‘Calamari’.

Has grown to be close to most Tennyson members. (E.G Camille, who was actually his babysitter after she joined the family.)

He doesn’t like peacocks after...an incident at the zoo. His mother still apologizes to this day.

Decent singer and very skilled at the guitar.

Has picked up combat moves from Tetrax.

Has always felt like he’s nothing without the watch. Others have said otherwise.

He knows how to speak certain alien languages, Galvan being one of them.

His schedule is a nightmare, because something is always popping up that involves him. This means he sometimes forgets to eat, sleep or even wash. It’s why he’s often caught napping.

Sometimes wonders if he’s human or alien at this point, maybe something else entirely.

Very soft poofy hair.

Is hated by almost all his villains. He just loves pissing them off.

310 notes · View notes

avintagekiss24 · 4 years

Text

Certain Aspects | Bucky Barnes{

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x black!reader

Word Count: 4,837

Warnings: smut!

A/N: It’s still spooky szn ‘round these parts. Here is my joint submission for @sourpatchkidsandacokecan all things fall challenge and @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan multi fandom challenge! My prompt for All Things Fall is “you’re too old to go trick or treating” and Neighbors to Lovers for the Multi Fandom Challenge. Hope you enjoyyyyyy :)

-----

“Girl, he is too fine.”

You chuckle and roll your eyes as your sister bites her bottom lip while staring at your new next door neighbor. You lift your beer to your lips as the two of you sway slowly back and forth on your porch swing, your eyes closing lightly as you swallow the golden liquid.

A warm breeze whips down the street, the leaves on the trees swaying and adding a natural soundtrack to the evening as the sun sets. You cross your legs at the ankle as a smirk spreads on your face when you hear your sister moan again.

“Oh my God, will you stop?” You nudge her with your elbow, rocking her to her right slightly.

She puckers her lips as she shakes her head slowly, “And he’s a good dad too? You need to snap his ass up real quick.”

You cut your eyes toward your dark, long haired neighbor. He’s new to the neighborhood, only having been next door to you for about a month. You’ve gathered that he’s divorced, only seeing the dirty blonde haired little girl every other week and alternating Wednesday nights.

His laugh wafts toward you and you sit up a little straighter. He is cute, you’ll give your sister that. His hair is piled high on his head in a messy bun, loose, wavy tendrils falling around his face. He throws a fake spider toward the little girl as they decorate, her scream bouncing off of the houses, bringing a smile to your face. He shushes her and scoops her up in his arms before twirling her around, more laughter filling the air.

Ok, so you’ll give your sister that too. He is a good dad.

“I betchu he’s got good dick.”

You snap your head toward her, your mouth falling open, “Can you stop it! Damn, his kid is right there.”

“So? She can’t hear me. Come on, he is a prime piece of real estate! You should go talk to him!”

You shake your head, sipping on your beer again, “Not going to happen Tanisha.”

She turns toward you, her lips pursed, her eyebrows turning in on each other as she rests her balled fist on her hip, “Why the hell not?”

“Because,” You shrug, “I’m not going to just jump him because he’s hot and looks like a good dad. He could be a serial killer for all we know.”

“Right,” She draws out, rolling her eyes, “Next excuse?”

“He’s brand new to the neighborhood. I don’t want him thinking he moved in next to a stalker.”

“Next!”

You tap your fingernail against the glass bottle in your hands, “Umm, he’s white?”

You smile widely as your sister throws her head back to laugh, “You’re stupid! You’ve had white boyfriends!”

“Not since college.” You say, letting out a deep breath.

“No better reason to try again.” She loops her arm around your shoulder, her face softening as she smiles at you, “Seriously. You and Dante have been divorced for two years. Jourdan’s in college… it’s time for you to get out there.”

“I’m forty,” You laugh.

“That’s the new twenty!”

You let out another sigh, raising the bottle to your lips, “Listen, after eighteen years of marriage, I deserve a few years to myself. I just got Jourdan out of the house.”

Tanisha nods quickly, “I completely understand and you do deserve it, but you also deserve some of that hot, daddy dick next door! I’m not saying you have to marry his ass!”

You close your eyes and shake your head slowly, “I’m telling mom. You are getting out of control, ma’am.”

“Shit,” She smiles, bumping her shoulder into yours, “Let mama get a look at him, she’d jump him herself.”

Your eyes widen as surprise and shock fill your face, “Wow, Tanisha.”

She shrugs defiantly as she turns her head back toward your neighbor. You watch as well as they wrap the large oak tree with fake spiderwebs and carefully place their carved pumpkins on the steps of the porch. The small human starts to yawn, rubbing her eyes with her little fist and he scoops her into his arms again, planting kisses all over her face. He takes the stairs to his porch toward the front door and casually glances over at the two of you - catching you both red handed.

“Shit,” You mumble, dropping your eyes and tucking some hair behind your ear.

You cut your eyes back toward him after a few seconds. He smiles gently at the two of you, raising his hand toward you. You both return the gesture, your wayward sister wiggling her fingers at him, and you plastering a nervous smile on your face. He disappears seconds later, the slamming of his screen door floating toward you.

“Damn it, Tanisha!” You say, punching her shoulder.

She laughs again, clapping her hands, “What? I think that was a great first meeting.”

You stand and slip your feet back into your flip flops and pass in front of her, throwing open your screen door.

“What?” You hear her call behind you as you pass through the threshold of your home, ignoring her completely, “It’s not my fault, I wasn’t forcing you to stare at him… did you peep that ass though?”

-----

Your doorbell rings for what seems like the hundredth time that night. You jog through the kitchen, grabbing the bowl of candy and your cat ears as you rush toward the door.

“Trick of treat!”

You smile widely at the gaggle of children on your porch holding open their bags of candy. You wave quickly to the parents by the mailbox before bending over to toss random bits of candy into their bags. Moana, Buzz Lightyear, Elsa, Batman, and Maleficent all sing their thank yous before scurrying away back to their parents. You watch as the run off, smiling and waving again as another group approaches.

“Oh my gosh, you guys are so cute!” You coo as you throw Reese's Peanut Butter Cups and bags of skittles into their bags, “Be careful, okay? Happy Halloween.”

You glance up as they run off, your breath hitching in your throat as you meet a pair of blue eyes. Hunky neighbor. He blinks at you slowly, another one of his smiles spreading across his face as he raises his hand toward you. You blink back, your eyes dipping down his lean body, taking in the sight of him in his leather jacket tossed over a polka dotted black button up and tight black jeans.

“Umph,” You let out inwardly as your mind starts to run wild.

His hair is pulled back again, but this time in a ponytail. His free hand is shoved in his back pocket as his face twists in a mild confusion. You jump slightly, snapping back into reality and cover your face with your hand as you realize you’ve been standing like an idiot gawking at him. You plaster a smile on your face and wave back awkwardly as his daughter runs up to him, wrapping her arms around his thick thighs - damn it!

You snap your eyes back up toward the group of adults huddled at the bottom of your driveway. A leggy blonde, dressed as a nurse, slides her arm around his shoulder and rubs his back gently as they both smile down on their children. Embarrassment flushes through you and you roll your eyes inwardly before shutting the door as the group moves to the next house.

Goddamn Tanisha.

The night progresses quickly. Hours have passed, your candy bowl is empty, the wave of children and teenagers has slowed to a stop, and you’re currently cuddled on the couch, wrapped in a blanket and shoving popcorn in your mouth as Michael Myers slashes his way through his victims. You check your phone as a picture of your baby sister and her friends at a Halloween party slides through. You smile and are tapping out your response when suddenly the lights and television snap off.

You glance toward the ceiling, waiting for the lights to click back on. The low buzz of the power trying to reconnect sounds through the house seconds later. The TV and lights flicker, but then die away again. On any other night, you’d be perturbed but since it is Halloween, it’s fitting. You push away from the couch and move toward your hallway closet, collecting a handful of candles and disperse them throughout the kitchen and living room. Once they are lit, you grab your iPad, log into Netflix and continue your slasher movie binge.

A knock sounds from the front door an hour or two later. You snap your head toward it, glancing down at your phone to check the time. 12:02am flashes back at you. It’s too late for trick or treat-ers, and your sister is three sheets to the wind two cities over. You glance slowly back down on the paused screen of your iPad, Michael Myers’ bloody knife on full display. A quick thought flashes through your head of a six foot, masked man standing at your door.

You roll eyes and throw the blanket away from your body. You really do need to get out more. You jog toward the door, cracking it open just a sliver to reveal the smiling face of hunky neighbor. Oh shit. You gulp as your eyes go wide, but you pull the door open and push the screen door out.

“Trick or treat.”

You squint coyly, cocking your head “You’re too old to go trick or treating.” You smile, trying not to sound nervous as the earlier events of the evening reply in your mind.

He throws his hands up, “You caught me,” He smiles widely, his eyes crinkling at the sides as he scrunches his nose.

You could melt. He is too cute for his own good.

“Sorry, I know it’s late,” He starts, shoving his hands back in his pockets, “I just um, I just wanted to check on you since the power’s been off for a few hours. I haven’t seen… I don’t see… I think you live alone? Not that I’m watching you or anything, I just, you know, I - “ He laughs nervously, rubbing his forehead and then pinching the bridge of his nose, “Sorry. I just wanted to check on you, and see if you need anything. I’m not a creep, I promise.”

You laugh with him, feeling as though the awkward scales have evened out nicely between the two of you as he stumbles over his words, “That’s really sweet, thank you. I’m fine, really. It’s um, it’s Bucky, right? I think I heard one of your friends screaming at you from their car one night.”

“Oh god,” He chuckles, covering his face, “Sorry, that’s my buddy Sam. He’s unreasonably obnoxious and enjoys being the loudest person in the room.”

You nod, “Oh I get it, that sounds exactly like my sister. You are not alone, sir.”

The two of you share a laugh before it dies away naturally and you’re left looking at him and him looking at you. You smile nervously under his piercing blue eyes, glancing down at your sock covered feet before smoothing your hand over the top of your head. You glance back up at him, finding his eyes still on you as another soft smile spreads on his lips.

I’m not saying you have to marry his ass!

Your sister’s words float through your head as you smile stupidly back at the incredibly handsome Bucky. Suddenly, everything Tanisha has ever said to you makes a whole lot of sense.

You point behind you toward your kitchen, “I’m sure they’re warm by now, but I have beer and a dump cake if you’re interested. You know, as a thank you for coming over to check on me.”

His smile widens, “That sounds great, thanks.”

You take a breath and tread through the house, glancing over your shoulder quickly as he follows you. You point toward one of the bar stools at the counter and move to the fridge, plucking out two Modelo’s and sliding one toward him. You can feel his eyes on you as you move around the kitchen, grabbing plates and forks before sliding the glass pan holding your famous dump cake toward you.

“Thank you,” He smiles as you pass him a small plate.

You watch him through your eyelashes as he takes a bite and closes his eyes, moaning as he chews, “Mmmm. This is so good,” he says after a minute.

Pride flashes through you as you dig into your own plate, “Thanks. It’s one of my specialties.”

“It’s amazing. It’s been a while since I’ve had homemade dessert, my ex wife wasn’t much of a cook.”

“ Well, it’s not for everybody,” you chuckle as you take a bite, “Do you cook?” you ask quietly, trying to make conversation.

“I do now. I think I bought every cookbook I could find when we separated, especially since I’ve get Kimmie half the time now.”

“She was so cute tonight.” You gush, holding your hand to your chest.

“Thanks,” He nods, “I was surprised my ex let me have her tonight. That was a fight I was not prepared for.”

“Ah, not on good terms, huh?”

“Not in the slightest, no.” He chuckles.

“I know the feeling. My son was sixteen when my ex-husband and I split and my ex did everything in his power to make it as difficult as possible. We still don’t speak much.”

Bucky mouth falls open as he widens his eyes at you, “You have a sixteen year old?”

“I have an eighteen year old now.” You laugh.

“Holy shit,” He laughs, “You don’t look old enough to have an eighteen year old.”

You throw your hands up as you chew, “I started young. I wouldn’t recommend it, but I’m kinda glad I got it over with. I’m young enough to start over, but old enough to know better.”

“Let me tell ya. I was thirty five when Kimmie was born, and four years later, I’m still scared shitless. There is no way I could have handled a kid in my twenties.”

“Well, that comes with the territory. You’re never going to not be scared shitless.” You push your fork around your plate, averting your eyes from his, “I’ve seen you with her, you’re doing a great job. Don’t worry.”

You lift your eyes to catch the smile that crosses his face. His eyes linger on you, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering so quickly that it makes it hard for you to finish your cake.

“Thanks,” He says softly, dropping his eyes seconds later to grab his beer.

It grows silent between the two of you, your forks scraping along the glass of your plates filling the space as random crackles of the candles butt in as well. You sip on your beer before sitting it back down, spinning it in slow circles.

“So um,” Bucky says after a few moments, “Does dating get easier after a divorce?” You groan inwardly and he laughs, “I’ll take that as a no.”

“I’m not the one to ask,” You chuckle.

“Why’s that?” His voice drops to a soft tone, his head tilting slightly as he watches you. You shift in your seat and send your eyes back down to your plate as your face heats up , “Sorry,” He says after sensing your reluctance, “I am a complete stranger and that was totally invasive.”

“No, no, no,” You shake your head as you hold out your hand, “It’s not, sorry. I just, I dunno. I was married for so long, I just want a little time to myself, you know?”

He nods slowly, “I get that. But, you don’t miss certain… aspects of being in a relationship?”

You snap your eyes toward him as your lips part at his suggestion. He blinks at you as his lips curl up at the corners. His eyes dip from yours down to your lips, his tongue darting out to sweep along his before he reconnects his vision with yours. You take a breath.

Hunky neighbor.

You stand, not able to take the closeness of the two of you any longer, and move to the sink to dispose of your barely touched cake, “I mean, naturally,” you finally answer, “But it looks like you’re getting certain aspects already.”

He squints as he flashes a baffled smile, “What is that supposed to mean, neighbor?” He asks, batting his eyes playfully.

You laugh loudly, “Oh please! I saw nursey nurse nurse out there.”

“Oh no. No, no, no,” he starts, throwing his hands up, “That’s not that.”

“Uh huh,” You nod quickly, pursing your lips.

“I’m serious!” He stands and grabs his plate before moving around the bar to stand next to you at the sink, “That’s nothing. Sam set us up a few weeks ago, but it’s not going anywhere.”

“Oh yeah, neighbor?” You ask, mocking his previous playful tone, “And why is that? Since you wanna be all up in my shit.”

He shrugs, “She’s not my type.” He states matter of factly.

You laugh again, clicking your tongue as you roll your eyes, “What’s your type then?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest as you beam up at him, “Hmmm? Neighbor?”

He flips off the faucet and grabs for the hand towel hanging from the handle of the dishwasher. He dries his hands quickly before tossing it to the counter and turns toward you, resting his hip on the edge of the sink, “Girls who pretend that they aren’t staring at me every time their sister comes over, which is a lot.”

Your mouth drops open.

“Girls who haven’t dated white boys since college.”

Your hands fly to your face as you gasp, “Oh my god! You heard that?” you squeal in embarrassment.

He pries at your fingers as he chuckles before pulling you flush against his broad, hard chest, “I thought it was funny.”

You swallow hard before peeking up at him to find his soft eyes back on yours again. His eyes bounce wildly between yours before lowering to your lips. Your lips part as you stare at him, your heart racing a million miles a minute as your breath starts to quicken. He tilts his head as he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, his eyes wandering around your face.

Even in the current circumstances - your body pressed against his, those big blues all over you - you’re completely taken aback when he kisses you. You inhale deeply as his lips pull at yours. Your eyes flutter shut as he deepens the kiss with his tongue, sweeping it over your bottom lip before pushing into your mouth. You flatten your hands on his chest, letting them linger before you push them along his shoulders and down his biceps.

He pulls away after a moment, a light smack sounding as your lips separate. You keep your eyes closed, not wanting to open them for fear that this is all a dream. He lifts you from your feet and sits you on the counter. You feel his warm hands cup your face, his thumbs rubbing soft circles against your cheeks.

“Open your eyes, doll.” He whispers.

You obey immediately. You slide your eyes open slowly to find that this is in fact, not a dream. He’s here, in front of you, and capturing your lips with his again. You moan into his mouth as you slide your hands over his shoulders.

Bucky pulls your hips toward his and lets his large hand linger on your hip. He pushes his fingers into your shirt, skipping them along your warm skin until he palms your left breast. You inhale sharply as electricity shoots through your body.

You thought this would be hard for you and maybe - secretly - this is why you’ve waited as long as you have. The fear of being with someone new. But, as Bucky’s hands push along your skin, so nimble and soft, as his lips and tongue massage yours with command and purpose, you realize just how much you’ve missed this. It’s been too long since you’ve been excited, achy, almost desperate for someone to just touch you.

You’ll deal with your conscience in the morning.

You let Bucky push his eager hand underneath the band of your black yoga pants. You ball his t shirt into your hand as his fingers graze over your slick, sticky lips. He rests his forehead against yours - a smile curling on his lips. He takes a step back as his hand reappears from inside your pants. He grabs at the hips of the stretchy material and slowly peels them away from you, lifting each leg gently to free them.

He tosses your pants to the floor and sinks to his knees in front of you as he brings your right ankle to his mouth. He plants a warm, gentle kiss just on the inside of your foot, tossing his eyes toward yours quickly before returning them to your long legs. You bite your bottom lip as he kisses his way toward your thighs, giving each ankle, calf, and knee ample attention as his fingers skirt toward your soaked, thin panties.

He pulls you sheer thong away from you with ease. You shiver when the air caresses the heat between your legs. He stands as he slips his fingers between your lips, groaning again as your wet warmth envelopes his digits.

You push your hips into his hand as he strokes your clit, slipping it between his fingers to brush along the length before rubbing circles against it. Curse words fall from your lips as you roll your hips into his devilish fingers - random synapses firing rapidly inside your overdue body.

You’re tired of waiting. You lean up as he teases your pussy and pull his chest closer to yours. You kiss him hard and moan into his mouth before you pull away. Your tongue darts out from behind your lips to lick from his chin to the tip of his nose.

His eyes glint in the moonlight with delight.

You stare back at him with confidence as the candle light dances across your figures. You reach for his belt, unbuckling it slowly, pulling it from around his waist, only to discard it with a loud thud against the hardwood floor. You pop the button of his jeans and slip the zipper down the track before dipping your hands into the denim. You keep your eyes on his as the tips of your fingers brush along his hard cock.

Ooh, hunky neighbor.

You pull him free with no hesitation and slide your hands along him, smiling to yourself as his eyes flutter. You wrap your legs around his waist again to scoot toward the edge of the counter and to push him closer. You guide him toward your entrance, teasing him slightly as you rub his dick against your clit and through your folds. You press the tip of his cock at your entrance and grip his forearms - wanting him to do the rest.

He pushes slowly, both his eyes and yours cast toward your connection as he disappears into you. You ball the soft cotton fabric of his shirt in your hands as your body spreads and close your eyes as you relish in the fullness. He presses his chest to yours and holds you to him as he starts to withdraw, expletives falling from his mouth when he pushes in again - even deeper.

Within minutes his pace has quickened. One of his long arms is hung around your waist, his fingers digging into your flesh as the other holds his weight against the counter. He’s still trying to be gentle, knowing it’s been a while for you, but his hips are almost feverish. Pushing and pulling, with a slight hitch every now and again as shudders ripple down his spine.

Your moans echo throughout the kitchen as they bounce off the walls. You let your head lull as your body lunges with each one of his deep thrusts. You clench your muscles to make your pussy constrict around him to add to the sweet pressure. Your skin is on fire, your head swimming, as the dull ache in the pit of your stomach grows with each push of his hips.

He reintroduces the pads of his fingers to your clit as he straightens up, pulling his chest from yours. They’re quick and fluid, rubbing fast circles before slipping along the length of your clit. His eyes dart between yours and his hand before he dips in to capture your lips with his own.

“Come on baby girl,” he coos, egging you on, “I know it’s been so long, baby.”

He wants you to cum. Begs you to, almost. It’s been so long that you’ve actually been treated like a living, breathing woman - and not just somebody’s fuck toy - that his words do you in. He drives you to the absolute edge of your orgasm, and you let him push you right over.

You don’t even recognize the sound that scrapes at the back of your throat as your walls constrict around him. The ripples of your orgasm splash over you in waves, soft at first as you start to tremble. The waves crash harder and harder throughout your body as he punishes your cunt with his hips, drawing the orgasm out of the depths of you. You tense hard, digging your nails into his skin, gritting your teeth as you mewl as the most intense part of the eruption powers through you.

A warmth spreads through you as you continue to cum, Bucky’s grunting growing loud and deep as he spills into you. Your muscles flex as Bucky falls on top of you, nuzzling his face into your neck, his hot breath sticking to your skin. You tighten your legs around his waist as your head and body start to come down from the high he’s provided. A lazy smile forms on your lips as the urge to giggle fills your chest.

You can’t stop it as the light laughter rolls through you. You feel Bucky chuckle against you, his cool lips brushing against your hot skin, “Sorry,” you say through your laughter

He laughs again, this time fuller, the sound calling to the butterflies in your stomach again. He leans back - just to look at you. His eyes wander around your face like he’s trying to etch it into his brain forever.

You enjoy having his eyes on you. You enjoy his full attention.

The two of you stare at each other for a while, his fingers tracing yours slowly. The low buzz of electricity sounds through the house suddenly, and within seconds, the two of you are doused in artificial light. The TV pops on in the living room, the microwave and oven beeping as they both reset. The peace of the moment slips away.

“Bummer.” He whispers, kissing the tip of your nose.

Bucky takes a breath. He closes his eyes as he brings your fingers to his lips to inhale your scent before splattering kisses along them. The two of you separate, physically and emotionally, and dress in silence.

Once you’re clothed, you both move toward the front door and out onto the porch. You walk side by side through your yard as the moon lights the way. Light fills Bucky’s house as the two of you set onto his porch. You smile softly, dropping your eyes as he turns toward you.

“I really did come over to just check on you,” he chuckles, running his hand over the top of his head, “I don’t want you to think - “

“I don’t,” You cut him off, “Thank you for checking on me.” You wink at him, causing him to laugh again, “I’ll see you around, neighbor?”

He nods slowly, “You know where to find me.”

You shoot him a finger gun as you step down off of his porch, “You’ll be the first person I call the next time the power goes out.”

He wiggles his fingers at you as you retreat back to your own house, his eyes on you the entire way. You peek at him out of the corner of your eye as you reach your front door, flashing another smile toward him before stepping inside.

You have the best night’s sleep that you can remember.

You’re up with the sun. You head out the front door toward your car and squint as you find a folded piece of paper stuck in the frame of the drivers side window. You pluck it from its place and smile widely as your eyes scan over the handwritten note.

Not sure what time you get off work… but I think my power will be out around 7… after I make you dinner, that is ;) - B

#star's multi fandom follower celebration #Idatfwc #bucky barnes #you x bucky #bucky x black!reader #bucky barnes x black!reader #bucky x you #marvel #mcu #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #avintagekiss24

968 notes · View notes