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ellecdc · 2 months

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Mother, i had a request but i forgot what it was 😭😭 i was sooo excited tooo 😫

But in trying to remember i had another brilliant idea!!

Reader x Reggie where theyre both stoic, slightly volatile 🐍 but theyre actually really soft and mushy. And then SURPRISE!! Theyre actually also dating Remus who takes care of them and is super protective. Maybe its revealed near the full moon and possessive Moony makes an appearance.

Siri is flabberghasted; Barty is horrified his darling sweethearts are be defiled; James is shook; and Lily is yhe ultimate bro and super proud of Rem.

Anyway, im sorry your computer was so mean to you. I hope you're looking after yourself 🩵🩵

......this is going to go down in history as my most controversial post........😈 may I present to you.....poly!MoonWater 😈😈😈😈😈

poly!moonwater x fem stoic!reader (i.e., Remus Lupin x Regulus Black x reader)

Sirius Black was admittedly currently going through a hard time.

Now, depending on who you asked, one (literally everyone and anyone) might say it was his own fault.

But if you asked Sirius Black? It was everyone else and their insufferable happiness that was to blame.

His insufferable best-friend-that-anyone-could-ever-ask-for finally landed the woman of his dreams and said woman of previously mentioned best friend was horribly in love with the sod.

Even his baby brother was happy! Which seemed like an oxymoron because in looking at Regulus Arcturus Black, one would assume that boy had never known a single moment of happiness in his life.

If one took into account their childhoods, they’d be right.

But Regulus Black, who was quiet in a way that made you feel like you were always being judged and ridiculed (you were) who very rarely had a kind thing to say about anyone had found happiness (read: a girl) who, for all intents and purposes, could be his personality doppelganger.

One difference, however, was that you were quiet in a way that always had one feeling like you knew too much, saw too much, and you were far too perceptive for anyone’s good. You always seemed to be analyzing the people around you and Sirius, sue him, found that incredibly disconcerting.

He did not wish to be known, thank you very much.

And even Moony! Moony, the bastard, was seeing someone! Fucked if Sirius knew who though because the sod wouldn't tell anyone who they were. He just kept popping back to the dorm room covered in hickies and looking far too pleased with himself whilst offering no details.

He was even spending entire nights away from the dorm, and always made sure he had the sodding map with him so they couldn’t even see where he was.

So yeah, Sirius was pissed.

And before you ask – no, it’s not because he was lonely – in fact, he had frequent visitors in his bed thank you very much. And NO, he didn’t want to discuss the fact that perhaps if he didn’t run at the first sign of commitment or emotional intimacy, he too would have happiness.

Perhaps he just wanted everyone else to be slightly less happy for his own sake.

Did no one ever think about Sirius Black?

Give right now for example. He and Regulus had been...hanging out (if that’s what you could call the two of them sitting together not speaking as they each did their own homework) since Sirius insisted it was important to do so, especially since Sirius no longer lived at home meaning that their usual means of brotherly bonding (read: trauma) no longer took place.

And then James showed up (he was so lucky Sirius loved him) who was but of course accompanied by Lily Evans (she was so lucky she’s as lovely as she is) which turned into a small James Potter roast on account of Regulus and Lily both having years’ worth of material from hating him up until recently, and Sirius had loads of material on account of him being a certified hater.

And then Moony showed up, and if Sirius didn’t know any better, he had definitely been fooling around mere moments ago.

But Sirius did know better.

“Moony, what broom closet did you just crawl out of and where’s the poor soul that was stuck in there with you?” He spat.

Remus merely chuckled and pulled a book out of his bag, making himself comfortable in one of the library’s grandfather chairs. “No one was stuck anywhere with me.”

“No, I’m sure they were a very willing participant.” Regulus drawled, looking particularly bored for all intents and purposes, never bothering to lift his gaze from his book.

“No need to be jealous, baby Black. You’re more than welcome to join me in such broom closets.” Remus joked with a wink.

“Oi!” Sirius swatted at Remus on behalf of his brother (he’s welcome). “That’s my baby brother you’re talking about, and he’s taken thank you very much.”

“Merlin knows how,” James muttered none too quietly, “it’s not like he’s very approachable.”

Regulus lifted a lazy eyebrow as he looked at James from above the pages of his book. “I’ll have you know I’m very approachable to those I wish to be approached by.”

“Hi Reggie!”

“Get fucked.” Regulus called back to Barty Crouch Junior, hardly sparing his best friend a glance as he approached him from behind.

“Wow, Reggie’s in a good mood today, huh?” Barty said as he sat on one arm of Regulus’ chair, causing James to laugh until he realized that Barty wasn’t joking.

Suddenly another body showed up and gently sat on the other arm of Regulus’ chair.

Sirius watched as Regulus’ impassive face completely cleared of all contempt and he looked up at you with pure and unadulterated adoration.

It made Sirius sick.

“Bonjour, mon cheri.” He murmured softly, in complete contrast to the harsh, militarized way he had previously been spitting at everyone else.

You smiled gently at the boy as you pulled a notebook out of your book bag and produced a small, pressed flower, handing it to Regulus between your thumb and forefinger.

Regulus looked at it like you had just presented him with a hundred-year-old bottle of fire-whiskey.

“Did you pick this for me?” He asked gently, plucking the flower from your fingers with matching delicacy.

You offered him a quiet ‘mhm’ and Sirius noticed a shy smile grace your lips. Regulus’ eyes moved from the flower to your face, and he gazed at you like you had hung the moon.

“Merci, mon amour.” He said reverently and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

Lily looked at the two of you with a smile one might see on the face of a proud mother, James looked at the two of you like he was seeing a bowtruckle for the first time, and Remus looked oddly taken with the show of affection. Barty was apparently the only other sane one amongst them – oh gods, maybe Sirius really was losing it.

“Where the fuck has this Regulus been the last six years?” Barty muttered incredulously.

Without much effort on your part, you reached over Regulus’ shoulder and shoved Barty off the arm of the chair and onto the floor before sliding to sit directly in Regulus’ lap.

“You...alright, Crouch?” James called tentatively from his place on the other side of the couple.

“Oh, I’m fine. That’s just how she shows her love.” Barty said as he bounced back up, completely unperturbed.

“Is it now?” Sirius asked, tone dripping with sarcasm. Remus swatted Sirius’ leg with his book.

“What?” Sirius squawked.

“Be nice.” He chided.

“I am nice! And why do you care?” Sirius argued, though he never got an answer.

“I think they’re cute.” Lily announced, sending a sly smirk towards Remus.

“See? Lily gets it.” Remus said with a shrug as he went back to his book.

Sirius hated every single one of them.

But if Sirius thought that had been rough, he had no idea what was in store for him today.

Sirius, Remus, Peter, James and... Lily had all been sitting at the Gryffindor table during dinner when Sirius noticed you rushing into the Great Hall looking rather frazzled.

“Whoa, what’s going on with Y/N?” Peter asked, apparently having noticed you at the same time as Sirius.

The conversation stopped abruptly as Remus’ head snapped towards the entrance, seemingly on high alert upon hearing of your arrival.

Sirius watched as you scanned the Hall before your eyes fell on their group. Your face crumpled in misery, and you rushed over. You were usually so polished and poised, any and all emotions locked away behind a well-fitted mask, no wonder you and Regulus got along so well.

Regulus...something must have happened to Regulus. Sirius had a dreadful feeling settle in the pit of his stomach; what could have happened to make you rush up to him looking that alarmed?

Except...you breezed right past him.

“What’s wrong, lovebug?” Remus cooed quietly, causing Sirius to choke on his own spit.

“He was hurt during practice.” You cried quietly, voice no more than a whisper as you moved to step between Remus’ spread legs where he had rotated on the bench to face you. His hands landed on the back of your thighs were his thumbs rubbed soothing circles into your tight clad legs.

“Okay. How hurt?” Remus asked just as quietly, ignoring the sputtering happening from James, the chuckling from Lily, and the horrified expression painting Sirius’ face.

“Dislocated shoulder.” You cried miserably, as if you’d just been told Regulus was damned to spend the rest of his life in a vegetative state.

Remus’s mouth looked like it was fighting really hard to smile as his eyes pooled with equal parts fondness, worry (for you or Regulus, Sirius wasn’t sure at this moment), and no shortage of love.

What the fuck was going on right now!?

“What the fuck is going on right now!?” Sirius demanded, his outside voice echoing the one inside of his head.

You startled a little at his exclamation, leaning closer into Remus who increased his embrace around you.

“What’s happening dear padfoot, is it appears your brother has been injured during quidditch practice. Perhaps you ought to go see how he is?” Remus taunted as he continued running soothing hands over your body.

“Yeah, yeah; the sky is blue, and people get hurt in quidditch. Now what is this!?” He screeched gesturing wildly at the two of you.

You looked equal parts embarrassed from the attention and equal parts wanting to tell Sirius off for downplaying what you clearly thought was some great upheaval in Regulus’ life when Lily spoke up.

“I’m surprised it took you this long to notice, Pads.”

His mouth dropped open as he turned to regard his best friend’s girlfriend with a look of pure betrayal.

“Et tu, Lily!?” Sirius cried as James sputtered, “you knew!?”

Remus just smiled as he shoved his nose into your collarbone. You brought up a hand to begin scratching at his scalp, and Sirius was certain the sods leg would be thumping in contentment if he were a dog.

“Let’s go, Sirius.” Remus finally muttered, interrupting an argument that was going nowhere between James, Lily, and Sirius. “You’ve got a brother in the hospital wing.”

You hurried on ahead of them, clearly not interested in the talk the two friends were about to have.

“So, are you fucking my brother too or just fucking him over by screwing his girl?” Sirius finally spat with his arms crossed petulantly over his chest.

Remus groaned and looked up at the ceiling, as if praying for strength to get through this conversation with Sirius Drama Queen Black. “Sirius, can you ask me a question that’s less likely to get me punched in the face?”

“No.” Sirius muttered.

“He’s happy, Sirius. I promise.” Remus pressed. “He...he really deserves all the love he’s getting.”

And Sirius would have been an absolute arse if he’d had anything to say in response to that...

Don’t get him wrong, Sirius was an arse and did have many things to say in response to that, but the words died on the tip of his tongue when they walked into the hospital wing to see you sitting on the end of Regulus’ hospital bed.

Regulus, save the sling holding his arm to his chest and the fact that he was sitting in a hospital bed, looked as casual as Sirius ever remembered seeing him, smiling at you with...

Love.

A lot of love.

“I’m fine, amour, I promise.” They heard him plead with you as they approached.

“Still have all your limbs, I see.” Remus commented as he walked over and pressed a gentle kiss to Regulus’ hair, causing the youngest Black to blush something fierce as he looked over at Sirius.

“I’m sure she told you I was comatose.” He commented quietly, turning and offering you a wink.

“Don’t tease me...” You moaned, looking very much like you still wanted to fold Regulus up and put him in your pocket for safe keeping.

“Yeah, don’t tease her, love. You’d be sitting in this hospital bed all on your lonesome with no one you dote on you otherwise.” Remus jokingly chided.

“Love.” Sirius groaned with a dramatized gag.

“Oh, grow up, Siri.” Regulus barked.

Sirius’ head snapped over to his brother at the sound of his childhood nickname. Regulus’ cheeks were still dusted pink, whether it be at the unplanned outing of his relationship, being hurt, or the gravity of this moment.

Regulus hadn’t called him that since they were children...like, real children before the trauma, the alienation, the disinheritance, the running away...

Perhaps because Regulus had spent all of that time living in unmeasurable pain. Just like Sirius had.

And maybe, now...Regulus had people who made him feel brave enough to be vulnerable like this, to reconnect in ways he long thought impossible.

Fuck Moony and his good naturedness; Sirius hated that Remus was right about this.

“Oh, fucking Godric.” Sirius muttered petulantly as he pulled Regulus into a bone crushing hug.

Literally.

“Sirius!” Regulus groaned before Sirius was ripped away from his brother. Sirius expected Remus to be the one throwing him to the floor for inadvertently hurting Regulus’ injury...but it was you.

“You idiot.” You hissed as new tears formed in your eyes, immediately moving to grab the ice pack from the bedside table and gently placing it on Regulus’ shoulder.

Remus and Regulus looked at you with so much adoration, Sirius was certain hearts were going to start pouring out of their eyes and floating around their heads.

“I’m fine, thanks!” He called out as he hauled himself up off the floor.

“Oh good.” You said sarcastically.

“I don’t like this.” Sirius grumbled, causing all three faces to turn to him.

“Pads...”

“Sirius, please.” Regulus implored.

“What if you break his heart?” He asked no one in particular. “What if you hurt my baby brother? Who am I supposed to support then? Or you; what am I supposed to do if you hurt my best friend? And what if you tossers hurt Y/N!”

The three of you shared a look before his brother turned to him. “Sirius, if we breakup, I give you permission to side with Remus.”

“And if we break up, I promise you can side with Y/N.” Remus added.

“Nope.” You said quickly, “that’s fine, I don’t need to be included in this.”

Sirius groaned out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank gods. Okay, okay. I guess I'll allow it then....”

“THE THREE OF YOU ARE WHAT!?” Barty screeched as he stood at the door of the infirmary, still in his quidditch kit.

“Do we actually have to have this conversation again?” You groaned quietly.

Remus shot Regulus and extremely guilty look as he slowly stood.

“Remus.” Regulus warned.

Remus grimaced and slowly made his way over to you.

“Remus John Lupin, I swear to Salazar...”

“Regulus, I love you; I do. But...he’s you’re friend an- NOW DOVE” He shouted, and the two of you took off in a sprint out of the infirmary.

“Quite the catch you’ve got yourself there Regs.” Sirius taunted.

“Sod off.” Regulus muttered as Barty made his way over to his bedside.

“Don’t mind if I do.” Sirius jeered as he, too, took off out of the infirmary, leaving Regulus Black to deal with the likes of Barty Crouch Junior on his own.

don't hate me

#ask elle #marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #regulus black x reader #regulus black x you #regulus black #regulus black x remus lupin #remus lupin x regulus black #moonwater #poly!moonwater #poly!moonwater x you #poly!moonwater x reader #ellecdc fics

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doorhine · 6 months

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Ok so I wanna talk about the guy we all know and hate, Abijah Fowler, because there are three scenes that do a fantastic job at characterizing him and speaking to the story’s themes.

*SPOILERS BELOW

The Chapel Scene: Fowler’s whole “prayer not prayer” is so interesting because he presents it as a business deal (which says a lot about how individualistic and apathetic he is). And honestly, that speaks really well to the use of christianity in imperialism, colonization and capitalism. If anyone here is familiar with Antoine Fuqua’s version of The Magnificent Seven (which is based on Seven Samurai), Bogue’s speech in the beginning of the film does a similar thing. In the case of Blue Eye Samurai, Fowler basically says, “we’re not friends but these people are ‘godless’ and if things go my way you’ll have a nation of souls to convert.” And I really liked that wording “a nation of souls” because it shows how imperialism and colonization, in the process of stealing other country’s natural resources, are, by design, meant to pose a threat to the entire culture and livelihood of the people that live there in order to do that. And a major way it’s done is through the spread enforcement of the colonizer’s religion over the ones of the people they invade. Which leads me to…

The Finale Monologue to the Shogun: because Fowler literally spells it out how the process of these systems, how white supremacy, is meant to twist and erase the culture and beliefs of those they invade to the point where they conform and assimilate to the invader’s culture and view them as superior. It also creates the idea of a white race in the first place that has its own ethnic and religious hierarchy that determines what the “best” kind of white is. I really liked the detail where he mentions spreading their shame because so much of white culture and its interpretation of christianity, whether or not it was the dominant form in its country of origin before being enforced on others, thrives on shame and enforcing that on other people (just look at the US). Lastly there’s…

The Famine Monologue: Something I really like about Fowler’s character is how he was written to be Irish rather than some posh English guy. It’s a nuance that adds a whole level of depth to his character and role in the story. Ireland was colonized by the English, which Fowler discusses when he mentions the Tudors. One of the ways that colonization was enforced was by replacing catholicism with protestantism. In this scene though, Fowler talks about the intentional famines that killed his parents and sister. It’s a graphic memory that shows how a victim of colonization will sometimes use the same tools used against them, to gain a sense of autonomy and control at the cost of other people’s livelihoods. This is compounded by the fact that Fowler is able to assimilate into the concept of a white race that was created to justify these systems and the oppression/exploitation of people of color that maintained them. Fowler is fictional but there were plenty of Irish people who took part in Britain’s colonization of other people one way or another. You’ll hear elements of Irish vernacular in places like Barbados for a reason to bring up a small example of the consequences of that. On a side note, this is also an interesting video on how the habitual “be” is used in both AAVE and Celtic languages.

Long story short, Abijah Fowler is a very nuanced and well written villain.

#blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai spoilers

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spookychick78 · 6 months

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Wanna Be Yours

Peepaw Myers X GN!Reader

Word Count: 6,558

⚠️Warnings: NSFW (18+, MDNI), choking, dubious consent, rough sex Michael himself is a warning, proofread but I'm human⚠️

Figured it was time I take on the old man. There's not nearly enough fanfiction out there for Peepaw. Is it over 6k? Yes. Is it self indulgent? Probably. Is it smut? Eventually.(there's some serious plot leading up) Needlessly romantic? Absolutely.

You stretched your arms out while simultaneously releasing yet another yawn. This was night two of staying up far later than planned, but insomnia had an unrelenting hold on you. Finally, it seemed it was losing its battle. Your eyes were heavy, your body the same as your yawns followed one after the other. A glass of water was all you needed, then you'd call it a night. You enjoyed the soft thud your feet made on the wooden floors, the usual pitter pattering muffled by a pair of fluffy socks you'd dawned. However, you were regretting your decision in not throwing on that pair of sweatpants before you came downstairs, it was rigidly cold, even indoors that night. Your oversized hoodie did little to protect you from the chill in the air.

You opened a cabinet, grabbed the first cup your hand landed on and brought it over to the filter in the sink. A sigh escaped you as you watched the little stream take it's sweet time filling it. Your foot had just begun to tap impatiently, it was so close to being filled, when a loud thump on the side door startled you. You dropped the cup, thankful that it landed in the sink, saving you from any mess. From where you stood, you couldn't see any movement out the little window on the door. You briefly regretted your decision not to turn on any lights as you stared, frozen in place waiting for any indication that someone was there. After a few moment's silence, the tightness in your chest dissipated and you let out the breath you'd been holding. Probably just a cat, you thought to yourself before you turned, foregoing your drink to retreat to the comfort of your room sooner rather than later. You hadn't even made it halfway up the stairs when yet another thud stopped you, followed by the sound of glass shattering. Your breath hitched and without thinking, you turned to scurry back downstairs, completely defenseless. In the shadows, you could just barely make out a figure. The only thing that was clearly visible, due to the faint gleam of moonlight, was his masked face. It was white, or it had been at some point and the eyes were two pitch black voids that seemed to be focused on the floor underneath his boots. As your eyes adjusted, you could make out a few more details, some that explained why he simply just stood there; he was injured. His hand, which was missing a couple of fingers and poorly bandaged, rested on his abdomen, clutching a wound that was still bleeding. His other hand seemed to be in just as bad a state, he'd broke the glass window with it to open the door from inside, rendering it bloodied as well. As he shakily lifted his head, those dark voids refocused their attention on you. You drew an uneasy breath, fearful of what he might do now that he'd discovered your presence. It felt like an eternity under his black gaze with only the sound of his uneven and ragged breath to break the dense silence that had settled in your kitchen, but finally something gave. He collapsed, you however stayed put for a moment more, unsure of what exactly you should do. The fact that he had a mask on wasn't entirely strange, it was Halloween after all, but he did break into your house. Perhaps he needed help? You could only hope that was his intention and he hadn't moved a muscle since he'd fallen, so with immense hesitation, you approached him. 'Intimidating' described him perfectly, even as he lay unconscious and face first on the ground. He wasn't a small man, not in the slightest. He must have been well over six feet tall from what you surmised, which meant he wouldn't be easy to move, but if you wanted to inspect his wounds you'd have to find a way. You tentatively placed a hand on his back, because if you were being honest, you weren't quite sure if he was even alive. He was, the soft whistle of breath through that mask of his and the subtle way his back rose and fell which each weak one he took confirmed that much.

"Fuck," you whispered as you contemplated how exactly you were going to turn him over, "you're not gonna make this easy on me, are you?"

You put all your strength into it and, after dropping him a few times, you managed to flip him over, "Sorry," you muttered after he'd landed on his back harder than expected.

You resisted the urge to study the face hidden behind the mask and focused your attention on his injuries, which were worse than you'd previously thought. Blood had turned the blue cloth he wore blacker than the eyes of his mask. You carefully pulled some of the fabric back to discover it was bullets than had torn through him. You winced at the sight, it wasn't something you'd be able to help much with, but you intended to do your best after at least calling for an ambulance. With that thought in mind, you stood to retrieve the first aid kit you never thought you'd have a use for and your cellphone. You wondered if he'd disappear while you had your back turned, half hoping he was simply a figment of your tired imagination, but when you returned he was still there and real as ever. You quickly dialed the emergency line, deciding to leave out the part that painted him as an intruder. You were still intent on not assuming the worst and he needed help, or so you thought. Once you hung up, you knelt down beside him again and carefully unzipped the coveralls he wore. You cursed yourself for blushing at the sight of his bare chest. He was older, the small patch of gray hair made that clear, but he didn't lack for definition despite his age. He was unreasonably built, something you fought to ignore but ultimately failed, hence the heat that had risen to your face. You gently pressed the rag to his wound and heard his breath falter at the sudden pressure, but he remained still as you cleaned him. You couldn't quite tell if he was awake, it didn't seem to matter how intently you studied those black holes, you couldn't see anything behind them to determine consciousness. But he was conscious and beyond disturbed at the predicament he found himself in, so much so that he hadn't a clue of what to do other than observe.

After you set the rag down, that mask had your full attention. The more you studied it, the more intrigued you became. It looked familiar, but you couldn't quite figure out why. You searched silently for a reason to justify what you were about to do as your hand moved closer to its edge. It would be easier for him to breathe without it on, you thought to yourself as your fingers grazed the rubber, but the moment you started to pull on it, his hand flew up to grab yours. He sat up, but doubled over as soon as he did and his grip on your wrist tightened.

"No- I'm sorry. Don't move, okay? You're hurt," you said, stumbling over your words as he flinched away from your other hand that went to his shoulder to steady him, "I just thought it'd be easier to breathe without it."

Michael's consciousness was an effort to keep, but he was aware enough to have heard what you said and it left him more than confused. The house had been so dark, he assumed it was empty, a safe place for him to rest while he waited for his strength to return. He didn't expect to find you standing there and when he did he had every intention to slaughter you, but the bullets Laurie had put in him had stripped him of that opportunity. His head whipped around for his knife while you watched, assuming he was just confused and unaware of where exactly he'd passed out.

"An ambulance should be here soon. I got you cleaned up, but you're gonna need more help than I can offer," you said, forcing his attention back to you, "you should rest though, until they get here."

Without hesitation, he shot up, entirely ignoring your suggestion and the throbbing pain in his abdomen, "Whoa, hey, what are you doing?"

Your words had little effect on him, which you soon learned as you watched him stride towards the door he'd entered from. You quickly followed behind, baffling him further. Usually, it was him who did the chasing.

"You can wait here, you don't have to-"

Naive, he thought to himself. Naive and completely out of your depth is what he made of you, but perhaps that kindness you'd shown a monster like himself was exactly what had saved your life, for now at least. He had no choice but to leave you, he'd had more than enough run ins with the authorities for one Halloween night and he knew they'd arrive any minute. He found his knife by the door and bent down to retrieve it, which was what stopped any further words from leaving your mouth. Your abrupt silence gave him pause and he turned his head slightly to find the horror of realization painted on your face. Your eyes were focused on the blade in his hand that had been decorated in red. The moonlight allowed its gleam to inform you that it was no prop, it was as real as your own blood that had run cold in your veins. It was your breath that was shaky now.

"Who are you?" You whispered.

He left you without an answer and that was weeks ago. Wondering was exactly what Michael wanted you to do and unbeknownst to you, you played along so nicely. He hadn't gone far, in fact he'd returned several times to catch you immersing yourself in his story. The night he met you, you never slept. You sat in bed with a blanked wrapped tightly around you as you listened to the details of what the man who'd broken into your home had done, of what he was. The answers you received from headlines only raised more confusion within yourself, because your name wasn't on his long list of victims. He spared you and that fact had you torn. Part of you wanted to let it go, be grateful that the shadow of death had so kindly passed over you, but there was another part that desperately wanted to know why. That part of you brought on more questions, but ones about yourself, more specifically, your own self preservation, because you wanted him to return. Sure, maybe it was simply time that was to blame, you'd called the authorities and he was a killer. He had to flee to avoid capture, but they still hadn't gotten him, he was still loose and he hadn't come back to finish you off. From what you'd learned, no one crossed Michael Myers' path and lived to tell the tale, you were alone in that. You were the first he'd left completely unscathed and unattended to, or so you thought. But Michael hadn't left you alone, not at all. He kept quite a close eye on you and with questions of his own, because in leaving you alive to wonder, he'd confused himself. The more he studied you, the worse it got. At first, it was a game, the same one he always played. The kill was always more satisfying when he had a bit of history on the subject at hand, but learning about you had become problematic. He never waited this long to strike, but you had made him hesitate. Somehow, you'd gotten to him and he couldn't seem to rid himself of the memory of you touching him. Perhaps it was because no one had before, not so gently. They'd certainly never apologized for hurting him as you had when you tended to his wounds. You cared about his well-being, it mattered to you that night. Enough so that you went out of your way to save him. He would have survived without your assistance, but it was the thought that counted, you thought about him in a way that no one ever had before. Now, you searched for him, unabashedly. He knew you weren't just gazing out of your window for the sake of it, you wanted to find him. He wondered if you a had a sixth sense, because he was always there, hidden in the shadows your eyes wandered to after the street lights turned on. You'd even begun to leave it open once you'd gone to bed, something that really piqued his curiosity. What would you do if he found his way in, what would you do if he gave you what you wanted and showed himself? Would you run or would he find himself in a situation in which he was the one who was out of his depth? Michael had gone his entire adult life without worrying about such things and he hated that finally, he'd been caught in such a trap. He wanted to hate you for it, but when you appeared in your window again and locked eyes with him in the darkness without even knowing it, he couldn't. He wanted to find one, just one single flaw that he could latch onto, but he couldn't and it ate at him. You were perfect, infuriatingly so. The way you moved haunted him in the most unexpected of ways and you were so young, so full of life that he should have wanted to drain, but death was so far removed from what he wanted to give you. His brow furrowed underneath his tattered mask as he contemplated it, because in truth, he hadn't a clue what exactly it was he wanted from you, he just knew it was you that he wanted and it was driving him to madness, to discomfort he'd never felt in all his life.

You disappeared from his view, retreating into shadows yourself once you decided he wasn't there. That was when he began to move unconsciously towards the door he'd entered through before. His heart pounded within his chest as he drew closer, unsure of what he would do once he was face to face with you again, but he needed to be, there was no question about that any longer. More than that, he needed to know what you would do, if you were different from the rest and if you could give him rest from the turmoil you'd caused within his mind, body and if he had one, soul. The house was dark, just as it had been the first time he arrived, only now, the door was unlocked. An invitation, he thought to himself with further intrigue. You did want him there, you must have, because who in their right mind left their house open for entry with a killer on the loose? He ought to teach you a lesson, but then again, no one was more of a threat than he was and he didn't intend to leave you unattended. If you wanted to leave your doors unlocked, so be it, but he would be your only visitor if he got his way and really, didn't he always?

His hand glided along the kitchen counter as he steadily made his way to the stairs, pausing at the bottom to study the stream of light that bathed the blackened hallway above in an eerie orange glow. His head tilted when it went out, leaving you entrapped in darkness. The sixth sense he suspected you had only became more prominent, he breathed easier without light to touch him and you had turned it off. Further invitation, of course, so he took the first step, then another. The faint creak of the wooden boards didn't seem to alert you to his presence, the light stayed absent and he appeared in your doorway to find you settled in bed. Sleep hadn't found you yet, but he had and you stirred when you felt the unease brought about by an unknown gaze lingering on your body. At first, the shadows all but consumed him, then his figure became clearly visible. Just an outline, tall and broad, but you recognized him.

Slowly, you propped yourself up with eyes that were wide open. You wanted this, but now he was here and you hadn't a clue of what to do, or what he would do. Words escaped you, but you didn't fear his silence this time nor the deafening hum that sat heavily between the two of you. It was energy, an unspoken desire to be near to each other was what it was, you knew that now without a doubt in your mind. He'd come back, just as you hoped he would, but for what purpose and why was it you had wanted him to?

Your legs slid off the side of the bed until your bare toes met the cold wooden floor below. He'd yet to move, so you tested the limits of what he would allow. His eyes, unseen, studied those carefully made movements closely. There was no distance to dull your actions anymore and he soaked each one in as he watched you stand, fascinated. He didn't have to hear it to know your heart was racing within your much smaller frame, you were prey approaching a predator, but it wasn't fear he found in your curious eyes, it was awe. As if he was just as unreal to you as you were him. His head lowered with his gaze, because now you truly were face to face. Your neck in turn craned up as you listened to that familiar whistle of breath through his mask.

"Michael," you whispered up at him.

He rushed forward so abruptly you didn't even have time to scream. He backed you against the wall, but didn't touch you, not right away. He simply stood there, shoulders heaving, head down in front of you. His breath was uneven and his fists were clenched tightly at his sides as if it was an arduous struggle to withhold himself.

But from what? You thought as you stood there silently searching for the answer you'd clearly die to retrieve. He didn't have his knife, at least not within his grasp or reach. His hands were his only weapons and he hadn't even used those on you, not in the way you had expected. Your hands remained at your side, unmoving and his gaze dipped to one. His breath evened as he studied it contemplatively, his shoulders stilled and he seemed puzzled, or so you assumed. Hesitantly, he reached for one. His fingers grazed your skin, slowly grappling for more purchase. Finally, he hooked one of them with yours and brought it to the other. He brought it up and you watched, confused as he traced the lines on your palm that were visible to him in the moonlight. The cool glow even allowed you to catch a glimpse of those eyes you'd searched for the last time he was in your home. One was an eerie, milky white, left without sight from one of the many wounds he'd gathered throughout the years. The other was the lightest of blue, icy in color, but there was warmth hidden somewhere inside that fought through as he allowed himself to fall prey to your touch once more. It was his choice this time, he was very aware as he pressed his palm to yours. Delicate and dangerous were the only two words that came to Michael's mind, because though you couldn't overpower him physically, he felt weakened in ways more damning than bodily wounds.

"Why are you here?"

Your whispered words did little to distract him from the dilemma he held in his hands. If anything, he should have been asking you that question. Why were you stillhere, allowing him to dive further into obsession, destroying everything he knew to be true about himself with just the tips of your fingers? It was cruel and unjust that someone like yourself, someone so small and seemingly insignificant held such power over him. It was infuriating, maddening and he wondered if you knew as his eyes met yours only to melt further. You didn't look away, no, instead you matched his intensity with brows that were furrowed in curiosity. That uncomfortable pounding in his chest returned and what he could only assume was rage forced his breath to quicken again, but then you intertwined your fingers with his, which made everything stop all at once.

"Are you going to kill me?"

The answer to that question was what frightened him most. Without warning, he ripped his hand from yours along with his gaze and turned to disappear down the hallway. It was an unforgivable mistake on his part to return to you, that much was certain, because no, he wasn't going to kill you. In fact, the encounter hadn't given him a single answer as to what he wanted with you, it only worsened his confusion and brought about doubt of himself. Perhaps he did have a weakness, a living, breathing one. He needed to escape it, kill whatever it was inside of him that betrayed him so wickedly. Your footsteps behind him made him grit his teeth as he strode through the door he'd left open to leave you to the night, but your hand found his wrist before he could vanish.

"Wait," you demanded.

The sudden and unwelcome contact forced his instinct back to the surface and before you could blink, you were forced back into your kitchen with a hand around your neck. The wind was knocked out of you when your back hit the counter and you squeezed your eyes shut, afraid that perhaps you'd finally crossed that thin line you'd been treading on since the moment you met him, but his grip didn't tighten. He watched you brace yourself and in turn, crumbled at the sight. Prey, he thought to himself, you were supposed to look just as you were with his hand around your throat. You were supposed to be frightened, you were supposed to beg for your life and yet, when your trembling hands met his wrist, it was the last thing he wanted you to do. It wasn't that he didn't want to hear you beg, he did, but he wasn't quite sure what for as he had you pinned with his own body pressed against you. He'd seen this dance before, but it wasn't one he ever bothered to learn. Human touch such as this for Michael only ended death, he'd never been forced to consider any other use for his hands. He thought back to his own worries earlier that night and realized he was indeed out of his depth, just as he was afraid he would be. He had you exactly where he wanted you, but what now? His head canted to the side as he watched your chest rise and fall in quick succession. Your eyes were still glued shut, anticipating death, but death had a different idea. The safety of darkness still surrounded the two of you and with your eyes refusing to open, Michael lifted his mask up. You felt his fingers brush your jaw and inch their way into your hair to hold the back of you head, then you felt something else. A kiss was what he gave you, gentle and inexperienced, but in his softness you received the answer you'd searched so diligently for. He lingered there for a moment, stunned by his own actions and more so when you returned them. You kept your hands on his wrist and kept them still, aware that this was his limit, this was all he could handle for the time being, but you guided him in your wordless response. Your lips pressed firmer against him, you moved slowly, but deepened it with each press. His hand began to tangle in your locks, clenching as his mind screamed for release, for violence. It was an effort to fight off those instincts, but he did so valiantly just for a few more moments of this, of softness, of you. You carefully lifted your hand to place it over his, which still rested at the back of your head, fingers knitted tightly in your hair. He relented, just slightly, but when you let out that soft sigh, it was too much. It was too intimate and just like that, his lips left you as did his hand. When you opened your eyes you were alone, as if his touch had simply been a dream all along. The only evidence of reality was the door, which he'd left ajar to leave you with nothing but the sound of wind to fill his absence.

Questions were what he'd left the first time, but now, it was frustration that consumed you in his wake. You'd gotten an answer, in a sense. He didn't want to kill you, he wanted you and you kept it safely hidden within the walls of your pericardium that he wasn't alone in his desire. He left you wanting, wishing and waiting for a killer to return and finish what he'd started, for him to claim you as his own. The mere thought had you unraveling, because what on earth was wrong with you? Why had you allowed such a thing to happen in the first place? Why did you kiss him? More importantly, why did you love every second of it? His lack of experience hadn't dulled the sensations he forced upon you, if anything it enhanced them. Haddonfield's reaper had chosen you and spared you the scythe for a kiss, one you couldn't seem to stop from popping into your mind at the most inconvenient times. It haunted you and it stripped you of each and every one of the morals you thought you'd had, based on one simple fact; you wanted more. However, this time months passed and you were forced to find ways to pluck him from your mind, which meant when a coworker called you up to ask if you'd like to go to dinner, you said yes. Of course, putting an end to the fantasy of Michael wasn't quite as simple as it sounded. Dinner was spent with your head on a swivel, half paranoid he'd find you and be less than pleased, half hoping he would and save you from the drab conversation you'd allowed yourself to endure for the sake of distraction. You were right to think he'd be watching and safe to say 'less than pleased' was an understatement. Jealousy was something Michael wasn't sure he'd ever felt before. In fact, he was convinced he really was starting to hate you for bringing so many emotions he didn't understand to the surface. Torture was clearly what you intended to put him through, but that was something he was well versed in and as he watched you kiss your date goodnight, he made a decision. You were indeed going to learn your lesson and if it ended in death, well, that would be your price for causing him such agony, because he didn't expect to behave gently after watching someone else's hands, someone else's lips touch what was his.

You kept your smile in place as you politely waved goodbye, but once the taillights disappeared you allowed it to fall with a groan and quickly wiped your mouth. Your date's enthusiasm for you was beyond unreciprocated, but you'd play the part well, perhaps too well. Hopefully he wouldn't call, you thought to yourself as you strolled up the walkway to your front door. You let out a sigh when you realized you'd forgotten to leave the porch light on and you had about a million keys to sift through in total darkness, of course. To make an already annoying night worse, you tripped. You managed to catch yourself, but the keys hadn't been so lucky. You bent down to retrieve them, cursing under your breath as you stood back up. You fumbled with them a moment more before finally pushing the key into the lock, but that was about as far as you got. You hadn't even heard footsteps to alert you to his presence, but suddenly, you found yourself pushed face first against the door and before you could let out a scream, a hand covered your mouth. It was familiar, the missing fingers were a dead give away. His other went to yours and forced you to turn the key. Why he'd even bothered unlocking it was a mystery, because he promptly turned you around and threw you over his shoulder before he broke the door open with brute force. Struggling was no use, he had a vice grip on your hips as he strode through the threshold with purposeful steps only to drop you on the counter.

"What the hell is your deal with me?" You spat out before you could stop yourself.

But before you even had time to regret your choice in tone, his hand was around your neck. That gentle grip he once had was lost and replaced with a menacing one that took your breath away. Your hands wrapped around his wrist with rage of your own at this cat and mouse game he was playing with you.

"M-Michael," you stuttered out with a pained expression, "whatever you're gonna do, just do it already."

You worried you'd come to regret that statement when he pushed you back on the cool marble with such force it made your head spin. His hand momentarily abandoned it's hold on you and you pushed yourself up just slightly, just enough to meet his eyes. The blue you'd once seen in his left one had turned dark, his pupil was overblown to erase any color, but it wasn't death you saw in that eerie gleam. Far from it. A different instinct had taken over and he knew exactly what he wanted to do to you. He quickly reached behind you and brandished a knife from the block on your counter. His movement's were hurried, frantic even as he tugged you forward by your hips so his waist rested between your legs. Then, he raised the knife up and you braced yourself. You must have mistaken that darkness in his eyes, it must have been bloodlust, you thought to yourself, but when he plunged it down it wasn't your flesh that tore. He'd taken it to your jeans, cutting them just enough so that when he tossed the knife behind you and grabbed each side of the fabric with his hands, he was able to rip them clean off of you. He didn't need the blade to remove the rest and now you were almost entirely exposed to him, save the top you silently resented him for destroying next. It looked expensive, Michael thought with a smirk behind his mask, but it looked much better torn to pieces. He was almost as unkind to his own clothes, he tugged the zipper of his coveralls down with such force the metal came loose and fell to the floor, leaving him free of any further confinement. You didn't even have time to glance down before he tossed on of your legs over his shoulder, pushed the other one to the side and plunged into you so deeply you feared you'd be ripped in two, just like your jeans. He allowed you no time to adjust, or catch your breath before he set an inhuman pace, one arm wrapped tightly around the leg over his shoulder and the other hand gripping your thigh hard enough to draw blood with his fingernails. He was silent, frighteningly so, while you failed to do the same. In fact, it seemed he was hell bent on making you scream, because once he found one particular spot that made your eyes roll back and your mouth hang open, he never left it. He managed to hit it each and every time he pushed into you and he relished in those gasps that quickly turned to wanton cries. Pain mingled with pleasure in a dizzying manner and you tried desperately to reach for him, to find anything to steady yourself on, but it was useless. He wanted to see you struggle and you were doing it perfectly, but if you wanted stability, he'd allow some. He stopped abruptly, bottoming out and drawing a pitiful whine from your open mouth so he could hook his fingers over your bottom teeth. With his thumb under your chin and his index and middle lodged in your mouth, he pulled you up by your jaw, the pain dulled by the overwhelming pleasure he'd pummeled your nearly limp body with. He brought you close, your half lidded eyes struggled to stay open as he lifted the bottom half of his mask up with his other hand and pressed his lips to your ear.

"Mine," he growled, low and harshly.

His breath fell hot over your bare neck, causing the ache between your legs to peak, begging for him to continue, but instead of giving you what you wanted right away, he pulled back and left you empty to readjust his mask. You whined, reaching for him before he grabbed your shoulders and turned you. He bent you over the counter and forced himself back inside of you while his hand snaked around your throat. He lifted you back up so that your back was pressed hard against his chest and the mouth of his mask was back at your ear.

"Say it," he breathed as he thrusted forward, slow but forceful.

You'd barely registered that he'd spoken the first time and now, with him buried so deeply inside of you, your cognizance was long gone. Each time he moved he seemed to go deeper, fully aware of the torture he was delivering in forcing you to hang on the edge of your orgasm. He could feel your body tensing around him, he knew you were dangerously close. Your head fell back on his shoulder as you struggled to form the response he desired.

"Yours," you whispered, but that didn't seem to satisfy him.

He thrusted harder, driving your body upwards. When your hand went to steady yourself on the counter, he grabbed it and held it tightly behind your back while the other squeezed your neck until you felt light as air. He grit his teeth, fighting off his own orgasm for the sake of punishing you further.

"Say it," he repeated with malice.

You were right there, so close to release that your mouth simply couldn't stay shut, but it wasn't breath you were so desperate for. You held it, brows furrowed in a mix of pain and pleasure so brutal you weren't entirely sure you'd survive another thrust. You felt his teeth at your neck, biting down as he let out a groan. It appeared he was in torment too, desperate in his own right to find release inside of you. His voice had driven you to madness, but those breathy moans he couldn't seem to hold in any longer were what sent you over the edge and that only made his struggle to maintain control harder. Your body pulsed so deliciously around him. You were tight enough to begin with, but now? It was too much and his head dipped lower in the crook of your neck to nip at your shoulder as his hips began to tremble from the exerted effort to keep his pace controlled. Not yet, not until he heard you say it.

"Michael," you gasped with your eyes wide open, though between the lack of oxygen and the intensity of pleasure, all you saw was white, "I'm yours, all yours. I'm yours."

Your whispered promises never stopped, they fell from your lips like little prayers and they had him spiraling. His ragged breath and the way each of his hands gripped you tighter and tighter should have broken you, but you clung to what little air he allowed for more of him. He'd long abandoned that slow, meticulous pace to chase his own high with a vengeance. His hand left your wrist and he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you flush against him when he found release. He bent forward, panting underneath his mask as he pressed you against the marble countertop.

"Yours," he heard you continue whispering and he loosened his grip on your neck.

He stayed like that for awhile, still buried deep within you and baffled by the entire ordeal, but you were so warm. No part of him wanted to separate from you or leave those little whispers behind. You felt his thumb absentmindedly brushing circles over your jaw and you supposed that must have been what brought you back to total consciousness, but you stayed still, afraid that if you moved he'd leave. His sudden softness was unexpected given the brutality he'd just displayed, but you found yourself melting into it. Between the exhaustion that had settled into your bones and the delirium that filled your head, those rough, calloused hands of his were exactly what you needed to bring you back down to earth with grace. He too was warm and you couldn't help but press your cheek into his palm, which caused his brow to furrow behind his mask. When his head withdrew from the crook of your neck, you let out a weak moan in protest, but he continued his departure from you in silence.

"Michael," he heard you mutter softly as he struggled through his own haze to gather himself.

He paused to observe your wrecked state. You still hadn't moved a muscle and he wasn't entirely sure you could even if you wanted to. He'd annihilated you, had you for his own and he should leave now. Right?

"Please don't leave me," you whispered.

You didn't expect him to oblige your simple request, you knew he'd already far surpassed his limits. You were killing him, he thought to himself and in such a strange way. It was instinct you'd stolen along with something else he supposed he did have after all, because as he watched you try and fail to push yourself up, it skipped a beat. He was aware he could blame it on age or his usual pent up fury, but he knew that would be a lie. It was you. You were both a curse and a cure to the quietus that possessed him, a plague upon the heart he once thought had lost it's rhythm to violence. It was mercy you'd infected him with when you touched him, when you healed him and mercy was something so foreign to Michael, but for you, he supposed he could try to give you his own version. You hadn't the energy to even feel surprise when he took you into his arms, but you had just enough left to smile as you rested your cheek against his chest. Perhaps he'd be gone when you woke or maybe he'd stay. Either way, you were Michael's. Or was it the other way around?

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thebiscuitlabryinth · 1 month

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For some reason, Pure Vanilla's dreams always take place in memories. The situations may be different, and the details may be blurred and absurd, built from a collection of fragmented moments spanning his life, but the locations themselves are always familiar.

That's why it is significant, glaringly so, when he finds himself somewhere he doesn't recognise.

It isn't a small room, but it feels smaller because it is hedged in by the dark shapes of bookshelves and chests. A large desk is nestled to the left, and a window sits ahead, clearly large but covered by a thick curtain. It leaves the room swarmed with shadows that seem to watch and breathe, hardly fended off by the feeble efforts of the desk's waning candelabra.

It makes viewing the room difficult. If he had his staff with him, Pure Vanilla would have cast some light, but he hasn't had it in his dreams for a while now, so he makes do with the meagre light he has. It is enough to realise that the room is a mess, the desk chair tipped over with books, scrolls, papers and quills, many of them looking like they were snapped, strewn about haphazardly. There's an inkwell on its side on the floor, spilling the abyss everywhere and soaking into the floorboards and loose paper.

The new location makes hope spark within Pure Vanilla, but it is dampened slightly by the uneasiness born from the visible disarry. "Where..?"

"This is my old study." As expected, Shadow Milk's voice swirls around the room to greet him, and a moment later, he emerges from the nothingness of the pitch-black corner, the edges of his silhouette blending into the darkness.

He doesn't look surprised or irritated at the sight of this time capsule of a room. No, his face is blank, verging on bored, as it often is when relics of his distant past crop up. It is a welcome sight, if only because Shadow Milk has a tendency of being more seriously receptive to questions when he wears that expression.

"What happened to it?" Pure Vanilla asks quietly, his voice bouncing back loud in his ears anyway. He doesn't move from where he is standing, a little wary of disrupting the mess on the floor before him.

Shadow Milk doesn't have the same hesitation, walking all over the littered documents with his arms folded leisurely behind his back. He peers down at them with a lazy gaze, but his voice and smile is light when he responds. "Oh, nothing interesting! I was just terrible at organisation, I'm sure you've noticed."

Well, being more receptive to questions doesn't mean he answers them honestly or in any kind of straightforward manner. The fact that Pure Vanilla is here already feels like enormous progress, because whether Shadow Milk made a conscious decision to meet here or not, his relative calm now must mean that he is willing for Pure Vanilla to see this, even if he isn't willing to explain its history.

Besides, Pure Vanilla isn't entirely oblivious. He has seen scenes like this before, and he can connect the dots himself.

Shadow Milk steps into the ink puddle and drags the abyssal liquid across the crumpled papers – a clearly intentional move, because he isn't bound by gravity unless he chooses to be – as he continues to scan the mess without a care in the world. He pauses at the edge of the candlelight's reach, squinting as he bends at the waist to get a closer look at a stack of bound papers.

Then, he lights up, dropping down to sit on the floor as he picks the papers up with both hands. He sits on the line between the fading candlelight and the hungry shadows, sinking back into the darkness like it is natural, but his eyes are all bright and his smile feels more genuine.

"One of my playscripts!" Shadow Milk announces, almost sounding giddy as he flicks through the pages with an air of fondness he doesn't quite manage to hide. Then, as if he can't help himself, he puffs his chest out a little and starts proudly explaining, some of his extra eyes flicking over to glance at Pure Vanilla. "I had dozens of these lying around. I never had the time to stage any of them myself, but they were extremely popular back then. That's to be expected, since I was the best wordsmith to grace Earthbread. Still am, to this day!"

In the dim, still moment that follows, stretching long and precious, Pure Vanilla doesn't see the Beast of Deceit before him. He doesn't even see the brilliant scholar, the Virtue of Knowledge, not quite.

What he sees is a Cookie, whole and complex and alive and beautiful, and his heart pangs, softly.

Pure Vanilla feels drawn to him, to the glimpse of something real and present, the current evolution of the past that lays abandoned around them, the past he has grown fond of in stolen glances, and suddenly he is moving. He carefully picks his way across the room, which isn't easy with the mess and the dark, but he manages, tiptoeing around ink and paper.

"It's their loss, to not have my genius plays anymore." Shadow Milk sighs dramatically as he begins to leaf through the script more carefully, silently reading it line by line. An edge of bitterness peeks through his tone. "Nobody knows how to appreciate good artistry these days. What more can you expect from little mindless fools?"

When Pure Vanilla sinks into a kneel beside him, Shadow Milk's extra eyes all gravitate towards him inquisitively, even as his main pair continue to soak in the script. The pressure of them drapes over Pure Vanilla like a cloak as he clasps his hands together in his lap, taking a moment to mull over his own words.

"...Perhaps you should try having a more open mind." He says finally, not unkindly. Shadow Milk stops, still as a statue, before turning to face him with a concerning crack of his neck that, despite knowing his habits by now, still makes Pure Vanilla wince.

"Huh?" The sound is flat and loud, too loud for the shrinking boundary of the study, and it is obvious he is offended.

"I've been thinking about you a lot recently, and your situation." Pure Vanilla admits, something placating lacing into his voice as his attention lingers on that beloved playscript to avoid meeting Shadow Milk's sharp eyes. "Have you ever considered the possibility of your imprisonment ending amicably?"

"Huh?" Shadow Milk repeats, his voice more abrasive as his patience dwindles. He heard him perfectly fine, Pure Vanilla is sure, but he must want an elaboration.

"You seem to think the only chance for your freedom is to escape by force." Pure Vanilla explains, glancing up to take in Shadow Milk's face, his brows furrowed and mouth an unreadable line. "But I'm sure a compromise can be made to some degree. The things you have done are too severe to be settled by an apology alone, but- but if we can agree upon a system of redemption and rehabilitation, then–"

Shadow Milk cuts him off with a wild bout of laughter that rips through the study like a clap of thunder, hunching into himself as he unceremoniously drops the script. He tries to cover his too large grin with a hand, his many eyes pinning Pure Vanilla in place with the frantic look crystallised within them.

"You're joking!" Shadow Milk forces out through his stubbornly smiling teeth, voice gravelly and rattling with traces of laughter just short of hysteria. "Do you even hear yourself? No, no, you must be joking!"

"Not at all. I wouldn't joke about something like this." Pure Vanilla insists, seriousness plain on his face as he shifts to face him fully, a little concerned by the reaction. "Good punishments are meant to teach a lesson. As long as you are willing to learn from it, I don't see why your imprisonment couldn't be renegotiated."

The laughter gives way to a cold silence, and Shadow Milk's eyes narrow as he grits his teeth in a half-scowl, hand still obscuring half his face. "You're serious." He says slowly, words dripping with disdain. Then he huffs, shaking his head as his voice takes on a more playful tone. "Don't be silly, I've told you not to overthink things so much. Besides, the Witches," and here, his attempt at playfulness falters under a charged growl, "would never entertain something like that. Cowards, all of them!"

Maybe Pure Vanilla is reading into things, overthinking just like Shadow Milk accuses him of doing, but he can't help hearing a note of hurt in his voice. The fact he brought up the Witches so quickly speaks volumes by itself, and sorrow and pity bubble together in Pure Vanilla at the thought of what Shadow Milk must view as the greatest betrayal.

"...I don't think they'll mind." Pure Vanilla says after a moment of consideration, folding his hands in his lap. "The Witches rarely interfere with the lives of Cookiekind – at least, not since I was baked. Even when you broke the Seal and escaped briefly, they showed no signs of interference."

"Cowards." Shadow Milk mutters again with a tight, sardonic smile. "Afraid of reaping what they've sowed. Of course they don't dare to show their faces anymore!"

Pure Vanilla frowns slightly, but chooses not to comment, glossing past that to deliver his point. "That means the terms of your continued imprisonment solely relies on the Faeries and White Lily, now."

"Yes, yes, yes, do you think I don't know that?" Shadow Milk huffs again, waving an impatient hand as he leans back against thin air. "And? Are you going to, what, appeal our case to our great and wise Guardian?"

"Well, yes, that is the idea." Shadow Milk blinks owlishly at him as if that was a surprise, and Pure Vanilla adds sheepishly. "Not immediately, of course. There are more pressing matters at the moment, and I don't want to add more stress to her shoulders." Then, quietly, more to himself. "...She's going through enough as it is."

The look Shadow Milk gives him is complicated, far too complicated to parse in the sparse lighting. When he speaks, it is weighted with disdain and disbelief. "That's actually your plan?"

"If you're willing to consider it seriously." Pure Vanilla's reply is sterner to express his own determination, a little frustrated by the lack of cooperation, but when Shadow Milk remains visibly suspicious, he softens again and sighs.

Of course he's supicious. Nobody has tried to lend him a helping hand since his fall from grace. To be forsaken like that would make anyone somewhat jaded.

"...Remember what you told me? We are the same." Pure Vanilla begins patiently, keeping his voice calm and soothing as he shifts a little closer to him. "We just fall on opposite ends of the same spectrum. I could fall to darkness, but it is just as likely that you could return to the light."

"Yes, and didn't I tell you that was a stupid thing to say?" Shadow Milk muses mockingly, head lolling too far to one side for his neck to still be intact. And yet, he was playing along, the whole of his attention resting on Pure Vanilla with a sense of intruige. That was enough to encourage him.

"You did, but you also told me that people change, didn't you?" Pure Vanilla continues steadily, not hindered by Shadow Milk's lazy rebuttal. "I understand you meant that Cookies can change for the worse, but quantifiers always exist in pairs, so the opposite is also true. Cookies – you can change for the better."

The flickering candlelight makes the colour of Shadow Milk's face murky, accentuating his flat expression as he straightens his head back on his shoulders with a dull crunch. His eyes burn like shooting stars as he says slowly, overpronouncing each syllable, "Possibilties are never guaranteed."

"Guarantees leave no room for possibilities. Similarly, an endless imprisonment leaves no room for change and growth." Pure Vanilla argues back mildly, and in an attempt to connect with him, he finds himself reaching out for Shadow Milk's hand. He clasps it gently between both of his, pulling it closer to his own chest as Shadow Milk's expression momentarily shutters in surprise.

"You've been abandoned for a long time, and I'm sorry about that." Pure Vanilla murmurs, head leaning closer to make sure Shadow Milk can hear him as he warms his cold, dissolving hand between his palms. "You have done awful things, and you needed to be stopped, but it is cruel of them to bury you alive without any chance to redeem yourself, to condemn you to stagnation."

Shadow Milk doesn't interrupt. His eyes rest squarely on their joint hands, and he makes no attempt to pull away, despite his intial surprise. His expression betrays nothing.

"I know you reject the idea on grounds of impossibility, but I truly believe you can change for the better." Pure Vanilla smiles down at their hands, voice warm and earnest, and it is the truth. He looks up, making sure to meet Shadow Milk's bright, bright eyes to convey his sincerity. "I believe in you. More than that, I care about you."

The word comes out a little shy, but not hesitant. He is making a point – trying to show that even if Shadow Milk may feel like he has been abandoned to rot, that doesn't have to be the truth.

Shadow Milk breaks his stony silence with a click of his tongue.

"You care too much about too many things." He retorts, a taunting lilt filtering into his voice as the corners of his mouth curl upwards. "That doesn't mean much. It just makes you a fool with a bleeding heart."

"And that doesn't make any of what I say less true." Pure Vanilla replies easily, projecting confidence. He refuses to let Shadow Milk scare him off now. "I really do care about you."

He hesitates for a tense second before moving one hand to cup Shadow Milk's cheek, to show him in actions. Shadow Milk stiffens under the touch, but relaxes in the next blink, baring too many teeth in a lopsided grin that dances along Pure Vanilla's palm, still vaguely mocking.

"Really?" Shadow Milk drags the syllables out, pressing his face into Pure Vanilla's hand as his narrowed eyes never waver from him. The darkness creeps over his shoulders, the protection of the old candelabra gradually shrinking. "Why, I didn't think you could be such a flirt!"

"I mean it, wholeheartedly. You can always tell when I lie, you must know this is the truth." Pure Vanilla insists and insists, because it is all he can do, a strange desperation starting to form, now that he can imagine a peaceful solution so clearly. He grips Shadow Milk's hand tighter, but the hand on his face remains carefully gentle. "All I want to do is help you, if you'll let me."

It is important that it is a choice Shadow Milk makes, and not something forced upon him. It won't work if it is forced. Still, as Shadow Milk's eyes grow lidded, Pure Vanilla suddenly can't bear to watch anymore.

"So please," he whispers as he closes his eyes, body leaning forward with the weight of his urgency, "can I...?"

There is a beat where there is stillness, and then Shadow Milk lets out a soft laugh, barely more than a breath. Pure Vanilla feels him move forward, fingers brushing his dough as his hand falls away from his face, and then– then–

Then their lips meet, and his mind goes blank.

The kiss isn't gentle. It isn't harsh or aggressive either. It just is, and just as quickly, it isn't again.

Pure Vanilla's dough is burning when Shadow Milk pulls back, his chest warm like the bowels of the oven, his stomach swooping in pleasant and sickening loops. Overwhelmed as he is, it is horribly difficult to open his eyes, but he is compelled with a need to see his face.

Unfortunately, even when he manages to force his eyes open slightly, there isn't much to see. The candelabra is quickly going out, its retreat inviting in a darkness that Pure Vanilla cannot see anything in, let alone the details of a face. The only proof that Shadow Milk is still there at all is the feeling of his hand in his, and the familiar presence of his gaze.

"You can try," Shadow Milk answers from the darkness, a teasing smirk audible in his words, "if you really think you can convince the Guardian of something as elusive as mercy."

Pure Vanilla nods quietly, certain that Shadow Milk can still see him even if the opposite isn't true, his tongue unable to find words quick enough to answer verbally.

When he wakes up, far later than he usually does and well behind schedule, his face is still glowing with leftover heat. He presses his cheeks into the cool surface of his pillow, and feels something in him settle, satisfied.

I can save him.

[next]

#i wrote a majority of this in a mad burst of inspiration. bone apple teeth!#also there is one part left in this series after this. take that as you will :)#shadowvanilla #vanilla milkshake #pureshadow #echo paradox au #the biscuit library

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strawberryblue-blog · 2 months

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Details they have with you

—FC Barcelona.

summary: small details or customs that they have in your relationship.

warnings: none. cute, soft.

#SEXYNOTE: I made a new reaction from Barça because the previous one had a lot of support, my respects to you. Remember that if you want another team you can just tell me and i will be happy to do it.

Pedri Gonzalez.

Take/caress your hands.

For Pedri it feels really warm and content like your fingers fit perfectly with his and complement each other so well. The soft feel of your small hand in his makes him feel at home. It surrounds it so well, you feel its warmth right away and it feels wonderful.

He likes to hold her at any time. In bed, when you're walking, when you're shopping, when you're on the couch, when you're out to dinner with your friends, anywhere. Sometimes he even does it unconsciously when he notices it, he was probably already taking it hours ago.

He does it so nicely that when you are apart you miss his touch. He thinks he can protect and support you this way, he knows you love to be held by him and that's why he does it all the time.

Ferran Torres.

Hold/hug your waist.

At first he did it to mark his territory when you were surrounded by people but now he can't stop doing it even when you are alone. It's like a mania, he likes to know he has control on you in a good way. He just leaves it there for hours and won't even bother you, in fact he's super intimate and careful.

His hand tightens around your waist holding it there, giving little gentle touches every now and then with his fingers. He does it while walking, when you are in bed, or wherever, his hand will always be there, caressing you or hugging you.

You feel protected and you like knowing that he wants to send a message to the world, you are his and no one else's.

Pablo Gavi.

Hold/stand behind your back.

It was something he picked up as a habit while you were dating before you were a couple. Because of the height difference, Pablo always stands behind you and watches out for you. He used to use it to flirt but he likes to feel that effect he has on you.

He usually wraps his hand around your neck and hugs your body so you lean against him. He thinks it's really intimate and you like to feel his body behind yours, filling you with his warmth and scent, making you feel loved and safe on his chest.

Maybe he does this more often when you are with the boys as he is a bit jealous.

Joao Felix.

Sit you/push you on his lap.

Maybe there is no specific reason why he usually does it let's just say that he really likes to see you sitting on his lap, it gives him a sensual and wild touch. You can't say no, you like it too.

Joao loves physical contact and when you are there, he can caress your back, your legs, your waist, any part without problems. He has control over you, so you can't escape from his caresses.

It's already something they usually do, even when there are more seats, you usually sit on his lap. You are small on him and he can hug you for warmth. He will do it anywhere, with his family, friends or when they are on the couch enjoying their free time.

Fermin Lopez.

Lay his hand on your thigh/leg.

At first he had a hard time with physical contact with you, but after a while he started to gradually get closer. It probably took him a few months to be that intimate with you but now it's the opposite.

He really likes the feeling of resting his hand on your thigh, whether it's in bed, when you're on the couch or just when you're next to him. He doesn't do it with any intention, especially since you also rest your hand on his.

He knows that you like it and that you feel loved with his touch, so sometimes he caresses it and squeezes it to tickle you.

#football imagines #imagine #football one shot #fc barcelona #pablo gavi #pedri #ferran torres #fermin lopez #joao felix #pedri x you #pedri x reader #fermin lopez x you #fermin lopez x reader #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi x reader #joao felix x you #joao felix imagine #ferran torres x you #ferran torres imagine

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verstppism · 18 days

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Boy's Talk (About You) - Chapter 8

Chapter 8 - take me anywhere but home

word count: 1957

masterpost.

synopsis everyone has their secrets, a group chat formed by charles leclerc, pierre gasly, alex albon, lando norris and george russell knows all of them. the 'kill the grid' chat has only one purpose: gossiping about other drivers' lives, romantic and social

or, a casual chat leads to charles confessing a crush on max, who's has been his rival since childhood

If Charles was still half asleep, the iMessage notifications coming from Max definitely woke him up. All the nervousness and anxiety from last night made sense: Max was leaving Brazil and his girlfriend to spend New Years in Monaco. But what were his intentions behind such a sudden decision? If Max really broke up with her, then he wouldn’t be texting the older one on a cold December morning. Or would he? Max Verstappen was a confusing person. One night, he says he’s not happy with his girlfriend, the other he goes on a private padel match with his ex-rival. Things seem to go well between them.

It’s when he posts a photo with his girlfriend after the race that tears everything apart. Still in his racing suit. Messy hair. Still sweating. Everything that belonged to Charles and to him only. In fact, Max was his. Who does she think she is? Charles only thought about how he could talk so casually about Kelly right before calling him “Charlie” and pushing him as far away from Lance as possible in the sprint podium. It was driving him insane — More than he already is. After eternal minutes discussing his own love life and its frustrations, Charles notices he left Max on read, he had accidentally opened the app and his conversation with the other one.

“charlie: good morningg “

“charlie: i am! are u okay? “

Charles was really at a loss at words, so he decided to pretend that he didn’t know where Max was nor that he was a few meters from the blonde’s house.

“maxiee: yeah “

“maxiee: just had a little change of plans and came back to monaco “

“charlie: oh really? “

“charlie: did anything happen or? “

“maxiee: can we talk about this in person? “

“maxiee: we can go to that café you mentioned in the padel match “

He… Remember. Their meeting (date?) was months ago, and he remembers it. Something he slightly mentioned once in a lifetime, and he recalls it in perfect detail. Charles wonders if Max remembers everything that pondered his mind. He asks himself if he recalls their discussions back in their karting days, or when they slowly started to use pet names for the first time. In the end, did Max realize that they were made for each other, even though they were predestined to fight for a whole life?

“charlie: of course! what time? “

“maxiee: im just getting ready, i’ll be there in a couple minutes “

“maxiee: nothing is too far here “

Charles giggles at the last message, like he always did when he exchanged messages with his beloved. After all, it was more of a date orchestrated by Max — he is good at setting up dates so subtly. Or maybe Charles just accepts every invite from the other. — and again, alone together. A more casual reunion this time: without any sport or anyone that could get in their way. It seemed like a dream, Charles hoped it wasn’t.

He didn’t even mind telling his friends of such an important event, just got up from his bed and quickly got ready. Casual clothing and sunglasses to go unnoticed. It wasn’t easy to go on a date in broad daylight in a city as small as Monte Carlo.

—————

It really didn't take long for them to meet. That little cafeteria was one of the secret gems of Monaco, hidden between beautiful historic buildings. As Charles arrived, he already could see Max, stirring coffee and sugar on the delicate little cup. He was looking down, his face with little to no emotion, more like hesitant of… something.

The doorbell ring filled the quiet place when the older entered the place getting the other's attention, which gave a soft and kinda sad smile to him. A smile that wasn't common as the post race ones or those shared in press conferences. ‘This is not the moment to overthink your relationship with him.’ Charles thought.

“I’m not late this time. '' Leclerc broke the awkward silence between them as he sat down. “Yeah… I mean, you live around here, no?” Max sounded somewhat different. Nervous? Sad? Reading his feelings through his face wasn’t Charles’ best ability. “So remember when I told you I would spend New Years in Brazil?”

“Of course! I was also about to ask you about it. Why did you come back home?” He said as he sat down. Home. Not the best wording at the moment, given that he’s actually Dutch and we are somewhere around near South France. It’s what they say: ‘home is where the heart is’. “Like… Did anything happen?”

“Yeah, uh…” Apprehensive. A worried tone filled his voice. “Me and Kelly had a little fight right after Christmas and I thought it would be better for us to part ways. She wasn’t very willing to but… Can I be honest? I was growing tired of being stuck with her.”

Stuck with her. Stuck. Max was tired. Max doesn't like her. At All. Charles felt like his chest was collapsing in the best way possible. How was he supposed to act normally and feel pity for them when butterflies filled his stomach?

“And you know, I only kept the relationship up because of her daughter…” Verstappen smiled while looking at the cup. The older’s intrusive thoughts were telling to adopt a child with that man. He was such a good dad after all! “And PR too. I think our love wasn't reciprocal… I was there for the kid and she was for the status of being a Formula One driver's girlfriend.”

“Oh Max… That's too bad. I’m so sorry for you” A pitiful look surged on Charles’ face, trying to show empathy and not that he was going insane over all of this. “I’m sure you and her will be able to meet again.” A shy smile appeared on the younger’s face when ocean and emerald eyes met. A comfortable silence surrounded them, only the ambient sound and smell of fresh coffee filled the empty café.

“Now that we are on the topic, it may sound rude but I need to get this off my chest. I doubt you two would still be together if you didn't win in 2021.” Still apprehensive, Charles felt safe to talk shit about Max’s ex-girlfriend. When he saw the other’s eyes glitter at the comment, he was sure: the blonde has been waiting forever to do this. “You doubt? I'm 100% sure! After we left RedBull’s party she started talking about marriage, mate. Can you believe that!?”

Minutes that felt like hours passed by. Charles and Max talked about many secrets they've kept for each other for the mere thought of “this is not something you usually tell your best friend, especially when he’s dating a person you don’t really like”. In fact, they would never get to these specific topics – mostly about relationships. Maybe both were scared of oversharing and confessing their true love, ruining it all for once. The older didn't know if delusional thoughts took over, but he felt things were getting intimate, at some point, their feet touched and so their legs proceeded to slightly intertwine.

They didn’t even bother to order food or anything. — and so the waiters did not ask them to. Perhaps it was an obvious date to whoever passed by. When leaving, Max only paid for this coffee cup that was now cold, half drunken and long forgotten on the table. Both got so deep in conversation they forgot the world keeps spinning, and the day goes by, like they always do. Like it always happens. If you didn’t know, you would guess that they were long-distance boyfriends meeting for the first time.

It was almost dusk when they left the café. The orange-ish colors in the sky implied the sun was setting, and so Max and Charles decided to walk home. Staying side by side on a very narrow sidewalk made their shoulders brush at all times.

As they got closer to Leclerc’s house, he noticed that Max started to tense up. Was he scared of something? Scared of leaving Charles? That reaction started to worry him but as soon as they got to the older’s doorstep he spoke up, point blank:

“I… Charlie, the true meaning behind this all-of-a-sudden meeting is that… You are the love of my life. I’m sorry for not noticing it earlier.” Max stuttered, a subtle way to let the other know it was hidden and buried deep inside with fear for years and years. Maybe even his whole life. It drove Charles insane. It’s like he was feeling every single emotion at the same time. He swore he was dying or something. The older man fought every desire to kiss him right here in the middle of an empty sideroad right in front of his house, but he knew it would appear in every headline in worldwide newspapers. “Charles ‘il predestinato’ Leclerc is found kissing Life-long rival Max Verstappen”. That is not the best way to be in the news, probably something that would end their careers or worse: their friendship. With no words left to say, Charles just hugged him tight as if he would disappear at any time. “Je t'aime moi aussi, mon amour” He said as one or two teardrops slid across his cheek.

Feeling something wet hit his shoulder, Max broke the hug but still kept their bodies suspiciously close. He held the other’s face with both big hands as their eyes met once again, but now with much more compassion. After all they’ve gone through, all their ups and downs brought them to this moment. What they’ve been waiting for.

“Wait wait wait.” Charles popped the little bubble they builded to protect themselves from the rest of the world. “Can we get inside first? I mean, it’s very romantic to kiss in the middle of the crosswalk I know but we’re kinda famous so yeah…” Max chuckled at the comment. “Of course we can, schatje”

He unlocked the door and let Verstappen enter as if nothing almost happened a few seconds ago. “Uh… So are-” He’s interrupted by the softest of lips crashing into his own, almost cornering him into a wall like a (ironically) raging bull. For the very first seconds they are both surprised by the feeling but locked in very quickly. This kiss felt like heaven, the way both mouths swayed together felt like they were pieces to a puzzle, just waiting for it to be finally found and placed together. It was definitely not what Charles thought it would be like but it was good nonetheless.

They only broke the kiss when there was no oxygen left in their bodies still, they stayed close, panting and hanging on by a thread of spit. Leclerc hid his face on his lover’s shoulder and started giggling, ending up with a lowkey confused Max.

“Why are you laughing?” He said, with a broad smile on his face. Charles’ laugh was contagious.

“This is so stupid. Why did we take so long to do this?”

It all came down to them snuggling together in Charles’ bed. The moonlight that invaded the room through a slightly opened window shines in their features, giving both an godly look. After a whole day spent with Max, Leclerc seemed to forget about his friends, who might’ve gone insane by his disappearance. So he was right: when checking his phone he’s welcomed with 86 missed calls, – all coming from 4 different people – and at least 300 messages coming from his group chat, Kill the Grid. Charles opens it, doesn’t read any of the past messages and starts typing.

“charlie: guys, youll never know what just happened '' Send it.

taglist: @mrsbrxkkxr , @nyxstice , @thedecalcomania-blog ,@sebastianize <3

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roodles03 · 1 month

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The Art of Alastor's Expressions: An Analysis by an Profressional Cartoon Artist and Current Animation Student

This is not related to TOH but I wanted to bring this up because the art how they animate Alastor's facial expressions deeply fanisnates and heavily impresses me. And also because I'm an animation nut and I am currently in animation school and I heavily appreciate the art of animation.

In Dad Beat Dad, during the scene where Husk confronts Alastor about Mimzy, directly after when Husk says, "You've been gone a while, and it's not like anyone knows why," there is exactly THREE frames where Alastor's pupils turn into dials as he eyes away. (Being most noticable on the first)

Now I gurantee since Husk was talking, there was a good amount of viewers focusing on him as the focal point, over Alastor, despite this shot being from Alastor's POV. Meaning a lot of people probably missed Alastor even eyeing away at all on their first viewing. But this is noticable on a rewatch and if you just focus on Alastor as the focal point.

But I have never seen anyone point out that his pupils actually turn into dials here. And you definitely wouldn't even notice UNLESS you spefically paused on one of those three frames. To give you an idea of how truly fast these frames go by, typical 2D animation runs at 24 fps. These three frames only last 20 milliseconds together. And since the detail is so tiny it is nearly impossible to notice when the shot is running normally at 24 fps. Its even hard to notice if you pause on these three frames because this detail is so small.

Whoever animated this added this detail despite the fact nearly no one would notice just to truly show Alastor losing his compsure. And as one of my animation profressors said "Every detail in animation is intentional since you create everything from nothing," (Unless it is an animation error) And as someone who is currently in a hand drawn 2D animation class, yeah, you spend a while on every single frame, knowing its only gonna be shown for a few milliseconds and the overwhelming majority of people will never notice or even care to notice. But You can slip in tiny details like this that add an incredible amount of insight to the very slim margin of people who will dissect your animation looking for details, or even just looking for funny inbetween frames or animation errors and they happen to discover a cool detail you left.

Back on the topic of Alastor. People have noticed that often Alastor's eyes give away how he's truly feeling through the mask of the smile he puts on. And they're absolutely right. But ive never seen anyone talk about this moment.

And in these brief three frames he loses his compsure for just a BRIEF moment upon being reminded of his deal. In fact, look at his expression in both the key frames right before these three inbetween/extreme frames

Overwhelmingly confident after he says "Who in their right mind would cross me?"

Doubtful of Husk after he says "You've been gone a while"

Losing his compsure when Husk reminds him of his deal after he says "And it's not like anyone knows why,"

Then puts on his classic mask, with that look in his eyes completely gone, saying "They don't need to know," (about why he was gone)

It's incredible how much three frames of showing Alastor losing his compsure adds to his character and this scene.

Also, This is not the only time where Alastor has an expression where it's clear that his deal is some sort of trigger to him, either. (Outside his verse in Finale which is obvious) Just look at these frames when Zestial simply comments that he's be gone for a while and there were rumors that he fell to holy arms

(wasn't able to include the other frame of his eyes going side to side damn you tumblr)

He also clearly looks away from Zestial as well, avoiding eye contact or even facing him when Zestial questions why he's been gone, indirectly reminding Alastor of his deal.

I love these such tiny details about Alastor. Its clear he is often hiding so much behind his smile. And since I can't add more pictures (thanks tumblr), I cannot even go into the two frames where he actually does frown, or another two frames where it's up for debate if he frowns. But I feel like there's more to say here where his eyes give away everything despite his smile, even if its just for a few frames, rather then the four frames where its either up for debate if he is frowning or he is clearly frowning.

I also want to mention that accomplishing expressions like like this is incredibly hard. Drawing is hard. Animating is even harder And despite expressions being my strong point, expressions are still hard as hell.

Most and sometimes all parts of the face go into making the right expression. Eyes, eyebrows and the mouth are the main factors, but you can even use the nose for extereme negative emotions (often used for extreme anger, hysterical ugly crying, or intense disgust. Hazbin actually does this for Alastor in one shot to my memory When Carmilla says she wasn't wondering where Alastor has been for the past 7 years) And depending on the character design, you can also even use their ears (positive emotions they perk up, and negative emotions they flatten. Most commonly seen in characters with animal ears but humanoid characters with pointed human-like ears can do this too. Like the witches from The Owl House for example the use of Ears also apply to Alastor when he experiences EXTREME negative emotions... Or Susan)

But when you take away a major part of the face, mainly eyes or the mouth, making the proper expressions becomes a lot harder. But it is possible. think Let Me Explain Studios or character's with hair covering both or even one eye. But Alastor is the only case I've seen where he actually does have ALL the facial features for expressions available, (including ears which is not common!) BUT one of them is actively working against the others parts of the expression, which is the fact that he is REQUIRED to smile. That means you must always draw him smiling, in every single frame, but try and use his other features (mainly his eyes and sometimes his nose or ears) to try and hint at his true emotions. Take a moment to think how HARD that is. That is insane.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed my Ted talk about Alastor and his emotions lmao.

#alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel analysis

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that-ari-blogger · 4 months

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An Interesting Character

Usually, when character is brought up in discussion, it is in reference to the people. If you think of the characters of The Owl House for example, you probably think of Luz, Eda, Bellos, Hunter, and Principal Bump.

But, by pure mechanics, a character is just a force at work in a story. One with personality, and agency, sure, but it's just a force.

This means that, if you squint a little, the Boiling Isles itself is a character, and the Wild Magic is an extension of that. It certainly gets treated like a character by the story, especially in Adventures In Elements.

Let me explain.

SPOILERS AHEAD

Before I start, let me give one attempt to argue with the pedants. By definition, a character is a person. So, hear me out, the Boiling Isles is literally the body of a titan, who actively talks to Luz later on in the series. That is my justification.

So... why is wild magic a thing?

I'm not asking for an in-universe answer, because that is multifaceted and not really the point. I'm asking why the writers decided to include this idea, and what effect it has on the story?

The phrase "magic is..." is used four times in this episode. Once by Eda, and thrice in quick succession by Luz. And it is worth taking a look at these statements.

"I know my lessons seem weird, but this is what wild magic is all about! Making a connection with nature. The earliest witches understood that. Human witches need to understand it, too. You wanna learn a second spell? ... Then you have to learn from the island."

There is a lot going on with Eda's guidance. First up is the small detail about the tense. The earliest witches knew that magic is about nature, implying now it is different. But mainly, this is an explanation of the nitty gritty of The Owl House's magic system. It's about two things, nature and connection. And I want to delve into that a little bit.

There is something fascinating about Bellos and his roots in witch-hunting. Because that was specifically defined by an opposition to things, rather than any actual views of its own.

Malleus Maleficarum, the book that kicked off the witch-hunts is a fascinating read, as long as you understand what it is that you are reading and don't use it as a set of instructions. Internet Archive has a translated version by Prof. Christopher S. Mackay, complete with commentary from latter authors that I highly recommend.

This single book caused a ton of harm to people, and you can examine it from almost any angle you like. The original was written by a terrible person with terrible intentions, and I also recommend Overly Sarcastic Productions' video on Werewolves for more information on that section of history.

What I want to focus on is the vernacular. References "devils" about 400 times and namedrops "witches" with similar regularity. The word "demon" comes up over 1000 times, and the word "pagan" comes up about 40 times. Specifically in reference to "pagan nations" which is about as racist as it sounds, as well as a ton of using the word as a catch all insult ("x type of person is worse than a pagan", etc. etc.). I don't want to get into the theology and history of this word, because it's a complicated minefield. But in this context, specifically around Europe in this time period, it means just about all regional faiths and mythologies. Celtic, Norse, Germanic, and several others.

Fun fact about me, I am Welsh, which means is that I have a connection to Welsh mythology, and so my analysis of wild magic is through that lens. If you have an understanding of other similar cultures, let me know, I'm fascinated to learn how that affects the reading of the Owl House.

Now, Modern Druidism is a living religion that I am not well versed in and want to treat with the respect befitting any living faith. So, I am sticking to what I know about the history and mythology and trying to make the differentiation between those two and Modern Druidism clear.

So, Druids in Celtic mythology are religious leaders, and peacekeepers. But what is possibly the most famous thing about them is their connection to nature. And here is where the analysis of The Owl House comes into play. Because the Owl House takes great care to associate magic with the natural, and Bellos with the unnatural.

"It means magic is a gift from the island. It means magic is everywhere. Magic is everywhere!"

Bellos creates artificial magic through his artificial staff and the destruction of the Palismen to fuel his life. Hunter wields an artificial staff, and in Adventures In Elements, Amity trains with an artificial training wand, which is linked to Bellos through the coven system.

But you would think that Luz's runes would also count as artificial. So what gives?

This episode shows them as part of nature more than the more refined spell circles. Luz's magic is that connection to the island in its purest, rawest form, and as I have said before, Luz's greatest strength is her ability to connect.

The dynamic between Wild Magic and Coven Magic isn't a dynamic between the artificial and the natural, it's a dynamic between empathy and utilitarianism. Wild Magic borrows, or is gifted, Coven magic takes and uses for its own ends. They are similar concepts, but it's in the minutia that the meaning comes out.

Final Thoughts

There is one final thing that Wild Magic reminds me of, and its off on a limb a bit. I currently live in Australia, and while Aboriginal spirituality is varied and complex and not my story to tell, I have been gifted this piece of advice that I would like to share: Humans don't own the land, we are a part of it, just as the trees and the beasts and the storms and the fires. Humans are mere custodians, our duty is to watch over and protect, and to connect.

I thought that was relevant.

I am away next week, but I'll be back in the new year with some analysis of The First Day, so stick around if that interests you.

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#literary analysis #rants #literature analysis #what's so special about...?#the owl house #toh #character analysis #wild magic #witchcraft #titan magic #owl house

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i520u · 9 months

Text

star-crossed ✩°｡ ⋆⸜

twenty. different

warnings: mentions of domestic abuse, substance abuse, also it’s a little suggestive if you squint

You spent almost the entirety of the day with Ricky. You’ve visited the downtown, and even spent a couple of hours at the funfair that was in Santa Monica Pier. He wasn’t quite ready to send you back home, which is why the two of you were spending the rest of the night by the beach. You found comfort in the sound of the waves and the wind gently blowing as the two of you enjoyed each other’s companies.

You looked into the distance as you and Ricky talked about things that didn’t seem to matter, but you knew you would remember every little detail for years to come. Little details like how he used to wear braces as a kid, his birthday being on National Strawberry-Picking Day, and things like how many juice boxes he had drank today.

“Are you cold?” He asked, eyeing you. You shook your head, your gaze still remained on the beach waves. It wasn’t a chilly night, so the winds felt like a friendly welcome. “Is something bothering you? Should I send you home?” He asked again, a hint of worry laced between his words.

This time, you darted your eyes to look at the blonde boy. It hasn’t been long since the two of you had started officially dating — maybe it was around 6 days? A week? You wondered why it took you so long to tell him the truth about your feelings, because looking back, it was quite obvious that he felt the same way as you did. Maybe you were just too oblivious and busy asking yourself whether he liked you or not.

Ricky gently grabbed your face, squeezing your cheeks together to bring you out of your own train of thoughts. “Heeeey. Y/N.” He called out, watching your eyebrows furrowing as he continued playing with your cheeks. “Don’t think about anything other than me when we’re together,” he sulked, a small pout forming on his lips. You let out a giggle at the sight of him, giving him a nod as a response. “Sorry.” You added.

Ricky released your face from his hands, he leaned closer to you with one hand on the surface of the sand as support. Your lips parted as your mind tried arranging your words before speaking it out, although your hard work of battling bilingual issues were ruined as he abruptly leaned closer to you to envelope you into a kiss.

His intention was for the kiss to be a quick one, almost like a peck. He just wanted to tease you a little, buy Ricky had overestimated himself. Maybe it was due to the fact that he had been dreaming of this day for so long that each time he plans on giving you a peck on the lips, his plan always backfires.

What was supposed to be a peck turned into a prolonged kiss, his lips gently moving against yours as you matched his rhythm. You could feel the butterflies in your stomach as your hand slowly slid up from his waist to his chest, tracing the outline of his muscles underneath his black top.

Ricky’s free hand made its way to the side of your cheek, holding you gently, and pulling you closer. You could feel him smiling through the kiss after you leaned against his hand like an instinct. He tilted his head to the side so he could kiss you better, his body leaning forward into you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your hand running through his hair as the kiss was turning heated.

Ricky pulled away for a second to catch his breath, eyeing you down through his half-lidded eyes. He let out a breathless chuckle before leaning in to kiss you again with the same level of intimacy as before, his hand wandering around your body the more the kiss deepened.

You eventually pulled away, your cheeks flushed and your lips swollen from how sensual the kiss turned out to be. Ricky seemed satisfied with himself, a smile plastered on his face as he stared at you.

“You’re pretty like this.” He complimented suddenly, giving you a wink. It only made you blush harder. YOU looked away almost immediately, breaking off the eye contact with him as you felt flustered. “Maybe you should get distracted more often so I could kiss you like that again.” He continued, followed by a soft giggle as he watched how shy you had become after a few teasing from him.

You pushed your body up to stand up from the sand, and Ricky followed suit. “Do you want to go home?” He asked, and you nodded your head, glancing at the time from your phone’s screen. It was getting super late into the night, and you didn’t want to reach home at the crack of dawn.

As the two of you began walking towards Ricky’s car, he didn’t hesitate to put an arm around your waist, keeping you close to him as you made small talk with him about the day, and what you had in plan for the day after.

The drive from the beach to your house was quite a long one, but it wasn’t a problem for Ricky. He didn’t mind even if he had to drive for hours as long as he’d get to spent the entire ride with you. He had one hand on the steering wheel, and the other was gently holding your hand, his fingers intertwined with yours while you softly drew circles on the back of his hand.

“By the way, Y/N,” Ricky paused, waiting for your response. You hummed, signalling for him to continue. “Did you and Yujin get into a fight? When the two of you bumped into each other at school sometimes, he never looked happy.” He asked, you pressed your lips together upon hearing his question as you didn’t think he would’ve noticed. Was it that obvious?

Yujin had been angry with you ever since you told him to stay away from Gyuvin a few days (or a week? You really couldn’t remember how long it has been since it happened) back. You were aware of their friendship, you knew that Gyuvin genuinely adores Yujin like his own brother, but you just couldn’t risk having Yujin around Gyuvin when he’s in that state. You’re okay with Yujin being angry at you and even hating you, as long as he was safe and sound.

Of course a part of you felt bad that you were generalising everyone who struggles with substance abuse to be just like your father, but you really couldn’t find it in you to be empathetic towards Gyuvin — even if he was (is?) your friend. You just couldn’t risk it.

Your mother struggled getting a divorce with your drunkard father and even moved to the other side of the world where the people are different, the cultures are different, and even the language is different just so her children could live freely without fear. You were not going to let that freedom be jeopardised, even if Gyuvin mattered to you a lot too.

Ricky noticed how silent you’ve become, he wondered if he had asked something that was private to you. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” He reassured. If he could give you a kiss on the head, he would. You shook your head almost immediately, “no, no. Sorry, I just got distracted.” You admitted. You inhaled a deep breath before telling Ricky what had happened between you and your brother. How he had went to hang out with Gyuvin, the weird text that Gyuvin sent you, and how you immediately demanded Yujin to go home. You told him basically everything.

“I know I’m being unfair to Gyuvin, it’s not that I don’t trust him. It’s just that I can’t risk leaving Yujin unsupervised with someone who’s not sober.” You sighed, you bit your lower lip as you started second-guessing your decision. “To make things worse, I told our mom about it, and now she doesn’t allow Yujin to see Gyuvin anymore for the time being. He can’t tutor Yujin anymore either, so that’s why he kinda hates me now.” You finished your explanation as you didn’t want to digress.

Ricky hummed in response as he took in everything you had just told him. He knew Gyuvin better than both you and Yujin, so you trusted that he would give a good input. “You did the right thing. Sober Gyuvin wouldn’t have allowed Yujin to be with him either.” His words felt assuring to you, the guilt had honestly been eating you alive for the past few days. Of course you care about Gyuvin, he’s your first friend when you came here. It’s just that Yujin is your priority.

Ricky flashed you a smile as he gave you a quick glance. “You should appreciate Yujin more. He’s clearly still naive. It’s a beautiful thing that doesn’t last long.” You felt yourself relaxing a little more upon hearing what he had said. Ricky was right, you were so busy worrying about Yujin hating you for restricting him from something, you didn’t realise that these were probably one of the few last times Yujin would ever act rashly due to his naivety. You had forgotten that he was still just a kid at heart.

You returned the smile, leaning closer to Ricky to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. The kiss surprised Ricky, his cheeks immediately turning red. “You’re such a good listener,” you told him, followed by a giggle as you watched him all flustered from your compliment. Ricky had a toothy grin, his smile was wide as he couldn’t help but get a little shy from the cute gesture.

With a soft chuckle, he tried to act casual. “Anything for you.”

When you arrived at your front porch, Ricky didn’t actually want to part ways with you. He wasn’t sure what made him so clingy, maybe he just liked being with you so much. “Well, I’ll see you on Monday at school?” You asked him, and he nodded in response. A slight pout evident on his lips as you began to put your belongings back into your handbag.

“Don’t forget your lipgloss,” he mentioned, reaching for the product that was mysteriously left on his side of the car. He wasn’t sure how it ended up there, but he wasn’t going to question it.

You leaned in to him to kiss him on the cheek again, although it didn’t worked out as well as you wanted to as he turned his head to hand you your lipgloss a second before you could kiss him. It ended up being a quick peck on his lips instead, but Ricky didn’t mind it, bringing you in for one more kiss.

He giggled afterwards, handing you the lip product. He waved at you as you began to leave his car. You leaned down to look at him through the window, “drive home safely!” You mouthed. Ricky nodded at your words, giving you an ‘OK’ sign. “Goodnight Y/N!”

masterlist | previous | next

synopsis ↯ in which you are paired up with ricky shen, who fully convinced himself that you purposely became his partner in order to date him.

𖤐 𖦹 ༘⋆⊹ nara’s note: next chapter is the last one + an epilogue I FEEL SOOOO SAD I LOVE THIS SERIES TOO MUCH

🏷️ ; @shiningstar-byulxx @jiaant11 @justemalove @okkomi @jeonghyeonsgf @blaycke @lvieee @softyminhee @starhyeon @rikislady @raeewe @se0ngmins @i-yeseo @aariiil @daydreamer5006 @ahnneyong @jayujus @girlokarina @aerxz @rikimylove @jisunglogy @pleasantgardendetective @mposkyje @ilovechanhee @livelaughlovelicky @igotkpoops @moonlightjungwon @imthewon @wycure @sunoosluvr @dumb-cxm-slxt @partiallyderived @sparklingsjy @jinkiseason @444yizhuo @wave2love @wtfhyuck

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andypantsx3 · 1 year

Text

Deceiving the Duke | 7 | Todoroki Shouto

pairing: Todoroki Shouto x Female Reader

length: 4.2k of 30k words | 7th of 9 chapters

summary: When Camie Utsushimi elopes on the eve of her society debut, scandal threatens to destroy the family’s prospects. It’s up to you, a maid, to impersonate Camie throughout the Season, long enough that her elder sister can make a match. The only trouble? Lord Shouto Todoroki is also intent on making a match—and that match, quite impossibly, appears to involve you.

tags/warnings: romance, regency au, class differences, hidden identity/identity porn, aged up characters, eventual smut

Lord Shouto continued to watch you strangely throughout the rest of the season.

You could tell he was observing you worryingly closely, and he seemed to request your company more frequently than ever. You were barely managing your household chores and dress modifications with all the time you spent in his company, and Mrs. Utsushimi was beginning to cotton onto the fact that for all your time spent talking Caroline up to him, they were seeing few results.

But you couldn’t pass up time with him, now that the season was drawing to an end. You took to sneaking out, agreeing to meet Lord Shouto somewhere down the street from the Utsushimi town home, a sense like cool relief washing over you every time you saw him, though he was watching you more hawkishly than ever.

He took you to a play, where he seemed to spend the entirety of its run glancing sideways at you, and when you stumbled on your next promenade he managed to reach out and catch you once almost before you’d begun to fall.

You could feel clearly that somehow, the intent behind his interest in you had shifted, and you wondered how much of the truth he was beginning to uncover.

You were glad Caroline had nabbed herself a suitor who was not at all circumspect in his interest in her, as it meant you would soon be able to close the book on this horrible scheme, and leave Lord Shouto in peace. But another, uglier little part of you hissed and yowled like a street cat at the idea of never seeing Lord Shouto again–at leaving the Utsushimis’ employ and Musutafu city, never able to return to even the places you’d visited together.

Despite yourself, you also wanted to linger in the season forever, riding through the park with Lord Shouto, poking fun at players, and twirling through ballrooms in his arms–but it quickly drew towards its end.

The season would culminate in a series of masked balls, after the first of which Mrs. Utsushimi expected Caroline’s suitor to propose. This would likely be your last event, for Caroline was sure to be married off quickly after that, perhaps within a fortnight.

You dressed carefully this time, allowing yourself to pick out the prettiest of Camie’s gowns you’d altered. It was a soft pink satin undergown, dressed over in a sheer, soft voile with tiny lace details. The dress was utterly lovely and utterly frivolous–not something you’d ever get to wear again in your lifetime.

You ferreted Camie’s only masquerade mask out of her chest, a cream-colored domino shape with lace trim at the edges, that tied around the back of your head with a matching ribbon. In Camie’s looking glass, you looked unfamiliar and—dare you think it—pretty, and you could almost believe that your station did not matter, that you might be just as beautiful as the leagues of bourgeoisie women who would surround you this evening.

You let yourself enjoy it.

When she saw you, Mrs. Utsushimi seemed taken aback by the choice, frowning over the nerve of your selection, but Caroline managed to insert herself before she could say as much, drawing you into her room and insisting she had just the thing to set it off. You couldn’t have been more grateful to her if you’d tried.

The thing turned out to be two: a silk rose for your hair and a tiny strand of paste jewels on a chain, so small you could almost believe them for real diamonds, were you not so intimately acquainted with the Utsushimi household’s finances.

Caroline had also dressed in her finest, a gown of a flowing purple fabric, set off with dusky pink paste jewels and a glittering paste tiara. It stood out against her pale skin, making it glow like moonlight under the flickering shine of the candles. She looked like a princess, peerless and elegant. You were sure that if her suitor hadn’t planned on declaring his intentions after this ball, he’d find himself unable to resist doing so anyhow.

You managed to make it out of the house without Mrs. Utsushimi requesting you change, and you were glad you’d let yourself make a little bit of a spectacle of your outfit when you made it into the assembly rooms and saw the rest of the peerage.

Every single person had worn their best, it seemed, and the ballroom was a sea of fine satins and pale muslins, immaculately-tailored coats and glowing white stockings. Candlelight glinted off of thousands of jewels, a sparkling rainbow of color. You suddenly found the room just as overwhelming as when you’d first set foot at the Monomas’, but this time you drank it all in eagerly, aware that this was the last time you’d ever see the peerage this closely again.

Like a magnet, your gaze was pulled to a tall figure winding his way through the crowd. You tracked his progress towards you, heart fluttering as that telltale mop of red and white hair drew closer. Lord Shouto emerged from the crowd and stalked towards you with all the grace and self-assurance you’d come to expect of him.

He looked utterly dashing in his masquerade attire–a dark coat and a dark undershirt clearly recently dyed to match, dark breeches and stiff black boots. He wore a black domino mask tied over his eyes, a similar shape to your own, except that he looked very much like a handsome highwayman or rogue, and you felt rather soft and flowery in comparison–very frivolous and utterly silly.

His costume had the effect of drawing out the paleness of his skin, the glittering gemstone colors of his eyes, and the shape of his mask only drew more attention to the sharp cut of his jaw and the pouty shape of his full mouth.

Your breath left you in a shaky exhale, as Lord Shouto caught your hand in a dark glove and raised it to his mouth.

“You are beautiful,” he said quietly. You could feel heat rising to your cheeks, and you fought the urge to squirm under his gaze.

“You too–um,” you said, coherent thought suddenly escaping you. “I mean, you look…handsome. Very handsome. But of course you knew that. You always…um…”

You pinched yourself through your skirts to get yourself to stop babbling, and Lord Shouto’s mouth quirked.

“I should very much like to accompany you this evening, if you’ll permit me,” he said.

The heat from your cheeks crept down your body in a warm flush. That was…well, bold was the only way to put it. If you spent most of the evening in Lord Shouto’s company, unchaperoned, there would be talk–that he meant to make your match, that you were far too bold for a woman, that you should certainly never be marriageable if this was your idea of propriety.

But, this was your last evening in his company. You felt certain Caroline’s suitor would propose, and you would likely never see Lord Shouto again, after tonight.

You stared at his face, the openness of his expression. He was so very beautiful and so very kind, and this was the last time you would ever get to speak to him.

“I—yes. I should like that,” you said, unable to help yourself.

Lord Shouto smiled, then, that charming half-moon sliver that all but took a sledgehammer to a woman’s knees. You clutched the arm he proffered, feeling weak.

Lord Shouto led you to the refreshments room, right past Miss Uraraka and Lady Asui, both of whom were watching you with wide eyes. You offered a small, self-conscious little wave. You would have to write to both of them, too, to tell them you were sorry–to have missed them, and for the deception that you had been anything like their equal.

Lord Shouto distracted you from your sudden sobriety by fetching you a glass of lemonade and a tiny apricot cake. You lifted a brow at him petulantly as he returned to you, smirking.

“Do not think that an audience provides any impediment to this being thrown,” you told him as he placed the cake into your hand.

“Ah, but you’ve told me you intend to win a husband someday,” he said, inclining his head towards you to speak softly but conspiratorially. “You’ll want to be on your best behavior here.”

You took a dismissive sip of your lemonade. “Actually, I’m feeling rather impulsive this evening. This season is almost at a close.”

“Ah, and you’ve intimated it will be your last,” Lord Shouto said.

“Yes,” you replied. “So do not think you are safe from flying foodstuffs.”

Lord Shouto smiled again. “Never.”

You couldn’t help but grin up at him, amused with his indulgent tone. “I suppose you’re grateful the season is ending too. What will you do at its close? Return to your family’s estate?”

Lord Shouto looked contemplative, and he took a sip of his own lemonade. You tried not to pay attention to the way his mouth looked pressed against the glass, the line of his throat as he swallowed. “If the season ends as I intend it to, there will be a return to my family estate, yes,” he said. “And after, a series of long travel plans.”

You turned towards him, nibbling on your apricot cake. “A long journey? To where? Will it take you out of the country?”

Lord Shouto’s eyes glittered with the tiniest hint of mischief. “It is a secret.”

You squinted at him suspiciously. You’d used the same trick on him but you did not like it turned back on you. And really, what would make travel plans so secret?

Unless…

Did he mean a honeymoon, perhaps? And, considering he was rumored to be courting Princess Yaoyorozu–would it need to be kept secret specifically for her? Perhaps to keep her safe?

“Need I remind you I am a fantastic secret keeper,” you groused, but did not press. If it was a royal matter, you really had no right to the information.

Lord Shouto’s mouth quirked. “I am well aware.”

“Have it your way then,” you waved a dismissive hand at him, searching for someplace to put your empty lemonade glass down.

Lord Shouto’s gloved fingers plucked it from your hand, and pressed something else in its place–a frosty, pale-colored drink you recognized for iced punch. You raised an eyebrow at him.

“You’ve said you were feeling rather impulsive this evening,” he said. “Forgive me for the presumption.”

But he took his own glass of punch, too, and the idea of sharing this last anything with him thrilled you to your core. You took a sip, bracing against the many alcohols that had been mixed in. It sat fruity and sharp and heavy on your tongue.

“You plan to aid and abet my bad behavior, then?” you asked him.

Lord Shouto’s mouth curled, like he was laughing at something secret. “You say that as though I had not already.”

You couldn’t help the pout that crossed your lips. “I have been a saint. You are the corrupting influence.”

Lord Shouto’s smile pulled more sharply at the corner of his mouth. “I should like to be.”

Your face flashed hot with the implication of his words, and you almost choked on your sip of punch. “You are determined to be on your worst behavior as well then,” you wheezed out.

“The season is almost at a close,” he echoed in his blandest tone.

Even straight-faced, you could sense the underlying mischief. You didn’t know what had him in such a mood this evening, when he was normally so genteel–but you found you quite liked it.

You laughed. “Well, then. Partners in crime?” You offered a hand, and Lord Shouto smirked and shook it, striking up another deal as you had that first night in the Monomas’ darkened library. His hand was warm and strong in yours, and even through the fabric of your gloves, his touch sent a swarm of shivers down your spine.

“What hijinks shall we get up to?” you asked.

“Perhaps you might stand up with me for a dance,” he said.

Another little thrill went through you. You could not deny how much you liked dancing with him, for all that you should have avoided it throughout the season. You liked his warm, hard body pressed alongside yours, the sureness of his movements, the clasp of his arms around you.

You finished your punch in a determined gulp. “Lead on, my lord.”

Lord Shouto looked pleased. He drained his glass too, and led you back into the ballroom, where the players were just beginning another song.

Flushed with punch and the urgency of the evening, it was better than any dance you’d had before. You let yourself enjoy it this time, knowing it would be one of the last. You basked in the feeling of your hand in his, his other hand at your back, the intimacy inherent in the touch. You drank in the strength of his movements, his deliberate focus, the soothing timbre of his voice when he spoke to you over the sound of the music–smoother and lovelier than any instrument.

More than anything, you drank in Lord Shouto’s handsome face, put out a little by the mask that covered his distinctive scar. It occurred to you that you had perhaps already seen his whole face for the final time, that you would never see it in full again, and a somber, hiccupy little feeling rose in your chest.

You tried to memorize the most minute details about him–the tiniest spray of freckles across his nose, the serious way he held his mouth when it was at rest. The flush of exertion high on his cheeks looked so unbearably good on him, you knew you’d remember it forever.

Lord Shouto seemed just as determined to enjoy things as you. When the first dance ended, he asked for another–a bold move that signaled far too much interest–but you couldn’t help but accept. When that one ended, you retreated back to the refreshments room where you fetched yourselves more punch, feeling rather giddy.

One glass turned to another, and then another, and Lord Shouto asked you again for another dance—so wholly inappropriate, but you couldn’t help but comply. You could see the scandalized faces of the room around you as he spun you in your third dance, but it all mattered so little in the end, you thought. The nobility could think whatever they wanted–you would no longer be beholden to their prejudices after this evening.

And Lord Shouto—all that mattered to you in this one moment was Lord Shouto.

You clung to him perhaps more closely than was appropriate, but there was nothing for it. His coat was soft under your hands, his voice so soothing, his presence intoxicating. Any time you glanced at his face, his gaze was all but burning through you, and you thought he was watching you with equal abandon.

As the third dance ended, you noted that Caroline and her suitor, Mr. Yosetsu Awase, too, had stood up for four dances together—there would be no doubt about their engagement now.

“I hope he’s good to her, after everything,” you said absently.

Lord Shouto looked down at you through his dark mask. “You sound wistful.”

“I should have liked her to have stayed single a few weeks longer,” you said, forgetting yourself. “I should have liked more time. But I am happy to see things finally come together. It is for the best.”

Lord Shouto’s face went strange. His hand found your wrist, and he tugged you closer to him. You fought against the desire to press yourself to him, to burrow in against him.

“You mean this to be your last event of the season,” he said, though how he’d deduced it, you had no idea.

You nodded. There was no reason not to tell something close to the truth, now. “I’d have liked more time with you, my lord. Truthfully, you have been an unexpected delight in this season. I should like to see you settled soon, too. You deserve much happiness.”

Lord Shouto’s hand tightened on your wrist, his mouth pressing into a determined slash.

“Come with me,” he murmured.

You followed him through the crowds, thankful that your mask shielded you some from the intrigued stares of the nobility. Your head was swimming with all the dancing and the punch and the emotion of the evening, and you held tightly to Lord Shouto in return.

Lord Shouto led you down the adjoining hall, poking his head into rooms alternately, until he found an alcove, leading out onto a small balcony. He tugged you out with him, into the chill night air. The evening was quiet, the sky deep blue and lit with so many stars.

It was lovely–almost as lovely as he.

“My lord–” you started, but Lord Shouto turned to you, stepping close again. His face was unexpectedly serious.

“If it is time you want, I would give you all the time in the world,” he said. His tone was soft, low, but resolute.

Your heartbeat slammed to a halt in your chest, your fingers freezing in his grasp.

“I–my lord–what–?”

Lord Shouto stepped even closer, his face drawing far too near. His fingers shifted on your wrist, tugging it down to your side, and his hand slid into yours, holding tightly. The nightscape swam.

“I would spend the rest of my days with you,” he murmured, those eyes searching yours. You felt very suddenly like your heart was swelling, ballooning so large you thought it might crack your ribs. “If this season must be your last, please say it is not your last with me.”

He looked so solemn, so earnest, so utterly and terribly perfect, gazing down at you like that.

Your thoughts raced and your breath came short, and you couldn’t make heads or tails of what he was saying! He sounded like—he sounded like—!

“Lord Shouto–” you started, but he shook his head.

“Just Shouto. Please.”

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears. You opened your mouth, with absolutely no notion of what you might say. Suddenly you knew only two things. That you were desperately in love with him–-and that you could never, ever say yes to him.

You opened your mouth to refuse him–you had to refuse him, for what else could be said?--and then–

“I love you,” you said into the silence of the night.

The sound of it startled you. But Shouto’s mouth broke out into the most stunningly gorgeous smile you had ever seen–wide and full and so incandescently happy.

Before you knew what you were doing, you’d leaned forward and pressed your mouth to his.

Shouto reacted like lightning, sinking into it with abandon. His arms came around you, pulling you to him tightly, one hand coming up to the back of your head to hold you close. Your arms went around his shoulders and your hands fisted in his collar points.

You’d never been kissed before–and you thought you’d never, ever be kissed like this again. Shouto’s kiss was so exactly like him–strong and sure, but gentle, and a little bit mischievous. His tongue teased yours and you responded in kind, your head spinning with him.

Without any input from your brain, your hands reached up to tug off his mask, and you pulled back to stare at him, desperate to see his face again.

He was just as gorgeous as you’d remembered.

Your heart twinged again, and he pulled you back to him, pressing his mouth to yours again.

He kissed you until you were dizzy with it, and then kissed you some more. You couldn’t stop your hands from roaming all over him, as if to reassure yourself that he was real, a solid, touchable thing under your fingertips.

His own hands slid down your waist, tightening there, and then his thumbs slid up to sit against your ribcage, dangerously close to the undersides of your breasts. You suddenly wanted nothing more than to be touched there, the need becoming an ache under your skin.

You wanted him, anything he would give you, his hands, his mouth—wanted it all over you. This was the only time you could ever have this from him–

“Please touch me,” you heard yourself murmuring against his lips. “Shouto, please.”

He groaned low in his throat and kissed you even more fervently. But his hands slid up obediently, his thumbs brushing the cloth over your nipples.

You gasped into his mouth, surprised at the feeling, and tugged harder on his collar points. “Shouto. Shouto please.”

His mouth dipped to your throat, layering hot, open-mouthed kisses there, and you threw your head back. His lips blazed a line down your neck, down your chest, and then to the neckline of your gown. A set of long fingers pulled the fabric aside and delved under the cups of your stays. He brushed the bare skin of your nipple and you made an embarrassingly breathy little noise, holding onto him for dear life.

He worked you looser from your stays, and then his mouth was closing over the tip of your breast, and you had to fight down a shout.

He let out that soft groan again, and surged back up to kiss you on the mouth. He walked you back, pressing you against the cool stone wall of the building, just beside the doorway. One of his legs came between yours, pressing to your center, and you squeaked the most embarrassing noise into his mouth.

Shouto inhaled sharply, and did it again, pulling you onto his thigh with the hand at your waist. His mouth found your neck, kissing fervently down it, and his fingers teased your nipple again. You found yourself moving against him, wild with want.

Something built within you, hot and twisting. You felt somehow that you might shatter into a thousand pieces if something did not give.

Lord Shouto’s hand pressing to you through your skirts had you biting off a sudden moan.

Your hand shot up to cover your own mouth, when something shifted at the corner of your vision. For a moment you thought you were seeing things–until it solidified into silhouettes moving at the entry to the balcony. Your molten blood instantly iced over as several gasps and a shocked exclamation rang out.

Shouto went rigid under your hands for only a second before he was standing up, holding you to him to cover you, while he quickly jerked your stays back in place. You just stood there uselessly, utterly stupefied.

Your stomach dropped as the voice of Caroline’s new fiancee ventured, “Lord…Todoroki?”

Shouto’s eyes found yours for a moment, flitting down your face as if assessing your condition. But then he turned, and you heard him say, “Mr. Awase.”

Over Shouto’s broad shoulder you could see Caroline and Mrs. Utsushimi looking aghast alongside the hostess of the evening. Too many eyes had seen you. With Caroline’s suitor and the hostess–there would be no covering this up.

Fuck. On the eve of Caroline’s betrothal–right on the edge of the family’s success–you’d gone and embroiled them in exactly the type of impropriety scandal this charade had been meant to prevent!

Your stomach churned.

“And…Miss Utsushimi,” Mr. Awase finally surmised, catching sight of you. Next to him, Caroline’s expression was horrified, and Mrs. Utsushimi had produced her handkerchief from somewhere and was starting to flap it agitatedly.

Your mind raced for some way to explain this away–-but Shouto spoke first.

“I intend to marry her,” he said.

Your mouth dropped open–as did Caroline and Mrs. Utsushimi’s. Their shock was the only way you could tell you hadn’t just experienced an auditory hallucination.

“I should hope so,” the hostess sniffed. “As it is, this is most improper. And from you, Lord Shouto! Such behavior can not be countenanced.”

A tiny noise escaped you, and you stepped forward, but Shouto’s hand on your sleeve stopped you.

“I’ll procure a special license in the morning,” he said, turning to glance down at you. “I will call upon you when I have.”

Horror welled in your gut at hearing the preparations laid out so plainly. He meant it–he really meant to marry Camie Utsushimi.

When Camie Utsushimi was already married. And you weren’t even her!

You’d trapped him into wedlock when such a thing could absolutely under no circumstances ever be permitted, especially considering your station.

Before you could say anything, however, Mrs. Utsushimi had moved forward and snatched you away from Shouto. “We will await your calling, Lord Todoroki,” she said tightly. Her fingers were tight in your sleeve, and you could feel them trembling–even over what you realized was your own trembling.

You could do nothing but let her quickly bundle you away from the crowd, with no time to say anything to Shouto. You heard Caroline murmur something to Mr. Awase, and then she too was hurrying to catch up, her slippered feet soft on the tiles.

You barely had enough time to glance behind you before Mrs. Utsushimi hustled you around the corner. You caught the barest sliver of a glimpse of Shouto, his face unreadable in the dim.

And then you were being led out into the cool night air–and into a future that you were certain you’d ruined for everyone.

#todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki x you #shouto todoroki x reader #shoto x reader

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meyousing · 1 year

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ᴄʜʀᴏʟʟᴏ, ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ꜱʟᴇᴇᴘ

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: as chrollo reads you to sleep, his attentiveness to your needs has you reconsidering how you feel about him after all he's done to wrong you.

ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ: chrollo x reader, sfw, implied yandere, mentions of past kidnapping, implied manipulation. not super proof read, i felt like writing something short n sweet for chrollo :V

Delicate fingers were tangled, stilled through your hair, the sound of a calm heart beating beneath your ear pressured you to relax further into the embrace that you were trapped–or rather, delicately held in. This was always how your repetitious days ended; forced back into the arms of your captor for “bed time,” forced to drift off against him until the next dull morning. You’d wake up when he did, be forced to stay in this god-forsaken bedroom all day long with nothing but a small bookshelf and its limited selection, along with an (annoyingly) comfortable bed to rest in as you read. On your first day here, before leaving for his work he assured you that this wouldn’t be where you were to stay forever, just for the time being until his current mission was over, then onto the next location, and so on. Indefinitely. That did nothing to ease the current-you and your worried thoughts about the future with this criminal, but it wasn’t like that was his intention anyway.

You had already read each book on the shelf, coming up on your second re-reads as the duration of your stay here felt never ending. He told you that he would get some more books for you when he could, maybe a typewriter too so you could pass the time making your own material to read. The clock on the wall was broken, so you were never sure of the time, it had been awhile since he said that he would replace that for you as well. You could only rely on where the sun shone in the sky to try and predict when your captor would come back to you from his job–which you weren’t interested in knowing the details of, no matter how many times he would ask “do you want to hear about my day?”

You did not want to hear about his day. In fact, you wanted nothing to do with him, too upset by his delusion and thinking that this was “what was best for you” and how he “knew better.” The remembrance of these words leaving him so assuredly made you scoff as you recalled the scene of it; him gripping you so tightly as he spoke, eyes intense and never leaving yours until he was pleased with your enforced complacency. Your scoff had slipped out audibly as this segment played over again for the nth time behind your shut eyes. You winced, hoping that you hadn’t woken him up. You weren’t sure if he was a light or heavy sleeper, this had never happened before. You were typically rigid and silent in his grasp, unmoving so as to not crack, to not let him see you calm in his grasp since he didn’t deserve to.

You waited, holding your breath as if that scoff meant that every sound from here on was forbidden, lest you wake Chrollo up and have him scold you for not being asleep (he never really scolded you though. He would just look disappointed in you and try to reach a resolution of whatever kind he saw fit). You would usually force yourself to stay awake for as long as you possibly could as a show of some kind of rebellion, yet the culmination of your weariness from such a dreary day combined with the gentle warmth coming from Chrollo’s body always had you falling asleep sooner than you’d like. Right now, you knew you could stay awake for longer, but not if Chrollo woke up too.

Nothing happened, not right away at least. You exhaled quietly, lungs relieved, though they hitched when the fingers in your hair unexpectedly moved to stroke through it, detangling a strand and reaching back to your roots to continue the process.

“Having trouble falling asleep?” his voice was raspy with fatigue yet still so smooth as he questioned you. You felt his chin press against the top of your head, the hand that wasn’t entwined within your hair squeezing your waist impossibly closer to him. What you wanted to say was that you were having trouble relaxing, since being caged into your kidnapper’s clutches every night wasn’t exactly the most alleviating scenario to fall asleep to.

You learned quickly that retorting his inquiries was always going to be unsuccessful. Any smidge of a snark in your tone only ever had him smiling, voice condescending as he said that he would give you some space to cool off before allowing you to answer him properly this time. You knew there was some kind of dark implication behind his words, but thankfully you’d smarten up by that point to ever find out what he could have truly meant.

You wanted to nod but your current position made that difficult, so you begrudgingly whispered a “yes” as a lie, absolutely not revealing the real reason why you made a sound of upset. He stroked your hair for a bit longer before relenting his hold on you, moving aside and allowing you to fall gently back onto the mattress and sitting up himself. You peeked an eye open to watch as he flipped the bedside lamp on which made you squint. He fiddled around within the little drawer of the end table before turning to you with a book in his hand. He opened his arm to you then, leaning back into the pillows.

“Come, let me read you to sleep.”

You blinked before you acted. You didn’t want to interact with him at night, since night time brought fatigue, which also brought vulnerability. Though when you were still for too long Chrollo’s head began to tilt curiously. Your movements were slow with hesitance as you pulled yourself against him, hoping he mistook your reluctance as sluggishness instead, when realistically you wanted to take this opportunity to slip out of bed and run for the door–despite knowing that it was locked. He didn’t question your pace though, only wrapping his arm around your back securely once you were nestled against him, holding the other side of the book then. He cleared his throat with elegance, reciting the text before him, his voice buttery as each word melted off of his tongue and reverberated through his chest; against your warm cheek.

You wanted so badly to be disgusted by him for what he had done to you–to hate him–yet when his tone was beguiling as it was, his body so warm and his touch so tender, you just couldn’t. This man kidnapped you; became the dictator of your freewill, yet he still made sure you had an annoyingly cozy bed to rest in. He made sure you had books to read, even if the selection had remained the same for much too long. He brought your favourite clothes along when he had taken you, even taking other personal belongings of yours in remembrance of how you’d expressed your love for them in the past (even though now you kept them shoved away in your closet, you couldn’t look at them just yet without being reminded of your old life and becoming sentimental to the point of tears).

He was undeniably attentive, always reassuring you that he would replace anything that you were unhappy with in spite of the delays. He actually did bring you a shining, brand new wrist watch one day when you mentioned the broken clock on the wall, but he turned severely apologetic when he realized that he had forgotten to grab batteries for it on his way home–his tasks that day were much too frantic and restrained for him to find the time.

Perhaps all of this could have been a lie; could have been a way to earn your complacency instead of forcing it, making promises to tend to every complaint you had (except for your freedom) in due time as a ploy to get you to believe and rely on him for it. Yet now, as your muscles softened into jelly and your eyes became too heavy to follow along with his place on the book’s page, you couldn’t help but finally relax in his hold and let woes of those potential misleading matters dissolve away. If Chrollo was only acting with you, you couldn’t care less right now.

Your breathing slowed, the last thing you felt being Chrollo’s gentle lips against your forehead, before finally succumbing to the darkness behind your eyes. One thing in this new life of yours was for certain; it was a nice change to be treated chivalrously for once.

#✧meyou #✧musinghxhmasterlist #chrollo #yandere chrollo #chrollo x reader #chrollo lucilfer x reader #chrollo lucilfer #phantom troupe #hxh #hxh x reader #hunter x hunter #hxh chrollo #hunter x hunter x reader #chrollo x y/n #chrollo x you

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mrkis · 2 years

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𝐍𝐂𝐓 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 :: 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄

✗a little warning, this is very long and very detailed.

✗renjuns, chenles and jisungs sections may be shorter than the others because i'm still new to writing abt them and i find it a little tricky trying to see them in such a way at the moment so i'm sorry if its shitty. @saintlyhyuck helped me out with renjuns.

✗sidenote, donghyucks section is a slight spoiler to his series i'm going to be doing lol. it gives off stalker/yandere vibes, please be cautious when reading or skip it if you're not comfortable with that!!!

‣ ˖ ‣ ˖ ‣ ˖ ‣ ˖ ‣ ˖ ‣ ˖ ‣ ˖ ‣ ˖ ‣ ˖ ‣ ˖ ‣ ˖ ‣ ˖ ‣ ˖ ‣ ˖ ‣ ˖ ‣ ˖

you meet mark at a café where you work and he’s never been here before, but he only came because he lost a bet and had to buy everyone drinks. mark definitely has that ‘love at first sight’ mindset going on so the second he makes brief eye contact with you? he’s immediately in awe. he’s so infatuated. he can’t stop looking at you, he’s a stuttering mess ordering the drinks. purposely sits down just to stare at you longer even though he desperately has to be somewhere.

you know exactly what’s happening by the way. it’s blatantly obvious but honestly?? you don’t mind. not only do you kinda like the attention but it’s from the most prettiest boy you have ever laid eyes on??? its a win-win situation right here.

eventually, mark does makes the first move. he literally just scribbles his number onto a napkin and leaves it open on the table hoping that you'd be the one to pick it up and not some random customer or another worker, god he really should've thought this through because now he's panicking about his number getting into the wrong hands and— never mind you called him.

you talk back and forth for a while. he even meets you during your breaks just so he sit with you and keep you company. it doesn't take long for him to feel comfortable touching you. his shoulders brush against yours, his thigh pressed against yours, his fingers linger on your arm a little longer than usual. he definitely does that fake yawn and put his arm around your shoulders manoeuvre, thinks he's so slick and cool. it doesn't take long for the both of you to share a few small kisses when he walks you home or even in the back alleyway when you go outside for some fresh air on breaks.

mark, without a doubt, wants to sleep with you now but he will not be the first to initiate anything... which leaves you in a difficult position. you have never slept with anyone. it hasn't crossed your mind. you weren't interested in having sex with anyone until you met mark. but he doesn't know that and you're far too embarrassed to admit it... until you invited him in one night (purely under innocent intent) and his lips were feverishly on yours and his hands were moving beneath your shirt.

saying he was shocked is an understatement. he has no words. probably gets a little emotional over the fact that you're basically giving him your virginity but then it dawns on him that YOU are GIVING HIM your VIRGINITY and its suddenly becomes the hottest thing ever. he's gentle with you. laying beside you on the bed as he kisses you, shyly caressing your body and calling you the most beautiful girl. the two of you for sure share some giggles and some laughs, but it eases the tension. he makes you feel really good even though he has a extremely hard time controlling himself around you, especially while he's now hovering above you with your walls contracting around his dick, trying to accustom to the size.

he's breathing so heavily through his nose, his brain fuzzy, unable to comprehend what the fuck is actually going on but he's able to voice small little praises, his hands gently caressing your cheek and pushing your hair out of your face, asking how you feel and if anything hurts. he wants to move so badly but he remains still just for you. it's torture, but you matter more.

renjun is a friend of a friend, someone who is in your friendship group but never really speak to. he keeps to himself, head buried into a book with his glasses slipping down his nose, drowning in oversized sweaters and wearing bulky headphones to block out the chatter around him, way too focused on the words that are written on the pages. you'd be lying if you said you weren't intrigued by him. there was just something about renjun that piqued your interest, and it wasn't a secret that you were clearly attracted to the quiet nerd in the group. you're positive renjun even knows about your little attraction towards him, although he's never made a move much to your dismay.

that is until you two are alone at a small gathering one of your mutual friends hosted, the others disappearing to go buy more beers and snacks while you both are made to stay at the house, the car too small to fit all of you inside. as always, renjun brings his book, but you're not entirely convinced he's able to focus on the words with the way he's peering over the top of the book to meet your eyes across the room, cheeks tinted a light shade of red.

he asks why you're staring at him to which you reply that he's pretty to look at, the alcohol giving you a boost of confidence. he's flustered, the book almost slipping from his grasp but he clears his throat to regain himself, muttering how you look pretty too with his own sudden confidence. it doesn't take long for you to clamber into his lap after a few back and forth compliments, ripping the book out of his hands and throwing it somewhere to the side before your lips connected.

the kiss is awkward. it's soft and hesitant, but it's one of the best kisses you've ever had. to be fair, you haven't shared a lot of kisses with other people, but you're giving renjun everything you've got and he seems to be giving his 100%, fingers gripping your hips tightly as your lips trail down his neck, marking him up, almost claiming him as yours. he's a whining mess, hips jerking beneath yours as his cock strains against his pants, desperate to be touched. you want to touch him, relieve him of his pent up frustration, but there's just one problem. you have no idea what you're actually doing.

when you whisper to him that you're a virgin and haven't gone further than some very light petting, something inside him switches. he flips you both around, your back crashing down against the sofa cushions and he's hovering above you, eyes dark and wild. that sub exterior completely slipping away, replacing with a dom that's eager to take control which excites you. clothes are immediately peeled off of both of your bodies once he mutters that you don't have a lot of time to yourselves until the others get back, his hips uncontrollably rut against yours, tip brushing against your clit.

you're whining for him to touch you, almost pleading him to do something, to do anything to help get rid of that ache between your legs but you gasp as you feel a sting spread across your cheek, looking up at renjun in surprise at the sudden slap. you never expected this from the quiet nerd in your friend group and you never would expect him to wrap his hand around your throat as he slowly eases his cock inside of you, making sure not to move too abruptly and hurt you, which is a complete contrast to his actions a mere few seconds prior. he's grunting in your ears about how tight your pussy feels around him, fucking you slow and deep that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head, your hands grasping at his around your throat.

jeno's your next door neighbour that you've been friends with for years that suddenly got hot over the summer break and now you can't stop thinking about him in such vulgar ways. you've been close since middle school, always sharing secrets and stories, having sleepovers and laughing until the crack of dawn. you could confidently say he is your best friend and you are his but the summer break got too busy to the point you were unable to see each other. you didn't hang out at all.

the first time you see jeno is when the summer break is almost over and he's standing in his front garden, shirtless, holding a beer in his hand and standing next to his best friend who's grilling meat for their get together bbq that they have almost every weekend. he's so pretty to look at, especially with his newly dyed pink hair that's tousled from the amount of times he ran his fingers through it.

the first time jeno sees you is when you emerge from your house in the most tiniest of shorts to accompany your family members who were relaxing in the garden. jeno was, admittedly, staring at your legs and your ass the entire time, wondering when the fuck did you have that glow up. he has always found you cute and adorable since you were both young, but now? you're hot. you're sexy.

your mother notices him looking over and is the first to initiate the conversation, beckoning him on over and asking all types of questions, even complimenting his appearance which makes you embarrassed at her behaviour, but this helps start yours and Jeno's first conversation of the last remaining week of summer break. you click straight away.

you're back to hanging out and talking every day, sitting in his garden under the blazing sun in your most tight fitted bikinis which jeno starts to notice, but he doesn't comment on it, instead he wears his own tight fitted swim shorts, flexing his thighs whenever he sits down beside you. you both get a little tipsy and this is where the honestly rolls off of your tongue. you tell him how you don't want to be a virgin anymore and that going into college with no sexual experience sounds lame (although it really doesn't). jeno just stares at you with a smirk on his face, nodding and humming along to all the things that you say and then he says it.

the way he so casually offers to take your virginity almost makes you choke on your own saliva but you keep calm and collected, simply nodding your head. you thought maybe jeno would've dropped the subject after that or laughed and told you that he was joking, but what you didn't expect was jeno to take your hand in his and tug you inside of his house, immediately pulling you onto his lap the second he sits down on his sofa.

he leans back against the cushions, smirking with his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he shoves your bikini bottoms to the side and circles his fingers around your entrance. jeno is all but kind to you for your first time. of course he makes sure that you are wet enough but he at least wants to make you cum twice on his fingers before he even thinks about shoving his cock inside you. he makes you do that. he makes you sit on his cock, gesturing you to grip his cock and put it in yourself with a simple nod of his head, capturing your lips with his in a messy kiss as he first enters inside of you.

the thing is with donghyuck, he obsesses over things and gets attached pretty easily. if there's a new game he likes, he'll continuously play it as if there's no other game in the world. if there's a new food he likes, he'll only eat that until the thought of it makes him violently sick and he finds something different. with people he crushes on, donghyuck does everything and anything to be around them, forcing his way into their comfort zone... and you were his next target.

he first met you during a morning class you shared together and you were made to sit next to him due to a minor inconvenience, bare faced and covered in an oversized red hoodie, smelling like fresh strawberries. donghyuck froze in his seat, unable to tear his eyes away from the side of your head. his favourite colour is red and he really likes strawberries. what a coincidence? you're perfect. you're his.

his staring wasn't subtle, which made you feel a little more annoyed than you already were from being forced to move seats, and you turn to look at him to tell ask him what the fuck he was staring at until you see the look in his eyes. they're filled with want, with desire, with need. a smirk is now plastered across his lips and he leans his elbows on the table, his eyebrow raising at your own staring but you tear your eyes away from him in an instant, focussing your attention on the professor in front.

you notice the appearances donghyuck starts to make in your everyday life; sitting near your table at lunch, studying at the library while you're there, present in every class you're in together, following you on your social medias, liking your posts on instagram, creating stories with your favourite music playing in the background... he isn't slick, and he knows it.

you eventually end up cornering donghyuck the next time you see him, especially when he ends up sitting in one of your favourite restaurants eating one of your favourite meals (which, by the way, you have never posted or hardly spoke about).he's beaming when you plant yourself in the chair opposite him, demanding him to answer all of your questions about him knowing so much about you, but obvious donghyuck doesn't care, not when he finally has your attention after craving it for so long.

how you end up in a five hour conversation with him is beyond you. you expected to be gone after confronting him, but you're captivated by his smile and the way he talks to you, so you didn't have it in you to get up and leave just like that. he's already got you wrapped around his fingers, he's already obsessed, but he feels his obsession grow a little more stronger when he manages to get a raw confession out of you.

your virginity hardly meant anything to you. you never actively went out looking for a hookup nor are you saving it up for that 'someone special', it was just there. but donghyuck manages to persuade you to bring him home with you, promising that it wasn't for any other motive than to hang out, but you eventually end up with both of your clothes thrown carelessly on the floor and him in between your legs, desperate lips biting and sucking at your skin, savouring the way you taste. he's always been curious.

donghyuck feels like he's in heaven once he's sheathed inside of you, buried to the hilt, body flush against yours. he feels like he could cry as he cradles your cheek in his hand, a smile creeping onto his lips as he watches your face contort from pain into pleasure, nails digging into his biceps and creating raw scratch marks that he can't wait to admire later. his grip tightens around your jaw, his thumb harshly digging in your bottom lip before pushing through the small gap, pressing his thumb against your tongue as he rolls his hips forward, your squeals and moans filling his ears. he's got you. you're his.

jaemin is your flatmate. he's a good flatmate. he's clean and tidy, he makes dinner every other night, he washes the dishes and he helps with the laundry. he's a perfect flatmate... so, what's the problem? you are, undoubtedly, cursed with a fuckboy as a flatmate.

he fucks loud. it's loud and obvious. his bedframe rattles against the bedroom wall, his grunts fill the hallways and his hookups scream the whole flat down with their squeals and moans of pleasure. he has zero shame.

truth be told, you're jealous. not because he's having sex with other people and not you. you're jealous because he's able to have sex whenever he wants without any concerns or problems. you're too shy to look for a hookup and you most definitely don't want to hookup with just any person. it's frustrating and it's irritating... which is why you make the stupid decision in finding the courage to ask jaemin to be your first.

he emerges out of his room one morning shirtless, scratch marks decorating his shoulders and lower back, a smile on his lips as he leads last nights hookup to the front door, waving her a quick goodbye and allowing her to plant her lips on his cheek before leaving. he closes the door, meeting your eyes across the room that stare at him. he's pulling a face, asking you what's wrong as he walks on over, hands resting on his hips with sass.

the look on his face when you tell him you want him to experience what sex is like with him would've made you piss your pants if it wasn't for your embarrassment and insecurities. when he asks you why you want him, you're taken back. you expected a simple yes or no, not an explanation which makes you feel a little awkward now, refusing to make eye contact with him when you explain your situation. you even add on that you want your first to be with someone experienced... and jaemin has a lot of experience.

he takes his time to answer and you accept defeat, preparing yourself to get turned down and be a helpless virgin for the rest of your life but jaemin's already taking your hand in his, dragging you to his bedroom with such urgency.

it baffles you how gentle jaemin is with your body, knowing what he's truly like behind the four walls of this bedroom. the light touches and soft kisses he makes on your skin makes your head spin. the praises and words of encouragement warms your heart. he's all about foreplay he claims, fingering you open with his middle and ring finger, talking you through the process all while leaving kitten licks and soft kisses on your folds.

he allows you to control the pace even though he's on top, not before making sure you're comfortable and ready. you're scared, gripping his bicep tightly in your grasp, sucking in a deep breath when you tell him to just fuck you. he's laughing, cooing at you words, calling you sweet and cute as his cock slips into your prepped pussy. he whispers sweet little nothings in your ears to calm you down when he feels your body tensing up, mumbling about how tight you feel around his cock and that you feel so good, that you're doing so well for him.

he even holds your hand throughout it, smothering your face with the most tender kisses, waiting for you to tell him his next move.

you hate chenle. you hate him with a passion. he's loud. he's annoying. he's sassy and he's overly confident that it makes you sick. he lives and breathes to tease you, to rile you up and cause a reaction. you loathe him.

chenle knows this, of course. he thrives off of it, almost making it a mission to make you angry at least once a day. he makes small comments, he steals your shit, he mocks you when you talk and he tries to trip you whenever you walk by. it's a game for him. a sick and twisted game that makes you want to strangle him to death.

you never really laid your hands on chenle before, minus a few arm punches here and there, but the first time you actually touched him with the intent of killing him was when chenle took his teasing a step too far. your hands were around his throat before realising, cursing and shouting at the top of your lungs as you climb onto his lap for a better grip, threatening to end his life for making your life a living hell.

chenle's cackling, finding joy in your anger as he tries to peel you off of him, digging his hands under your armpits to tickle you, pinching your sides to throw you off but his ministrations die down when he feels the way you're moving on top of him, your hips accidentally grinding down on his to keep yourself stable.

he's gulping, eyes blown out wide, hands resting on your waist as he stares up at you and you go to make a comment about who the fuck he was staring at until you feel it, the hardness poking at your inner thigh. you reel back in surprise but chenle's got you trapped in his hold, unable to move off his lap without you struggling, causing you to move on his cock that continues to grow in his pants.

you call him a sick fuck, chiding him for enjoying this but he's not listening, panting heavily with each movement of your hips. you raise your hand to hit his arm for his attention but he's quick to grab it, pressing the palm of your hand around his throat tightly as he begs you to do it again. you're dumbstruck, unable to form a sentence as you stare at him incredulously.

you'd be lying if you said you didn't enjoy the position you were in, allowing yourself to wrap your fingers around his neck and grind your hips down on his cock. he's gasping and grunting, his own fingers digging into your waist to quicken your movements and it doesn't take long for him to remove each of your clothes, begging to be touched and pleased.

before either of your underwear are thrown across the room, he confesses that he's never had sex before, that this is his first time to which you nod your head, admitting that you've never gone this far with anyone either. a few messy handjobs and awkward fingering sessions have been present in your lifetime but never sex. this is new for the both of you.

it's exciting. it's exhilarating to have sex with someone you despise so much, but that's what makes it so fun, especially when you're fucking each other with so much hatred and pent up frustrations.

jisung has been your boyfriend for a little over four months. relationships are fairly new to you both and being as shy as you are, neither of you have gone further than a few shared kisses. it's not like you didn't want to have sex with jisung, because you really do, it's the fact that you literally have no idea what to do and you didn't want to embarrass yourself in front of your first boyfriend.

jisung is in a similar position, he wants to have sex with you, he wants to know what it's like to be so intimate and close to you... but how the fuck is he supposed to do that with no experience? what would happen if he can't please you the way you deserve to be pleased? what if he can't make you cum? god, he's a mess. his head is in his hands and his phone is unlocked beside him with multiple tabs open with articles and videos teaching him how to please a woman, some a little more intimidating than others, babbling to himself how he's going to be a virgin forever.

you're standing at the bedroom door, watching him with wide eyes and the second you step further into the room, the floorboards creak beneath your weight and his head snaps up in alarm. his hand slams down on his phone when the woman on a video starts to explain where the clit is and you try your best to supress your laugh when his face turns red and eyes glassy, clearly embarrassed at being caught.

jisung's rambling now, confessing while also making excuses that make no sense whatsoever but his words die down when you sit beside him and unlock your phone to show him your own research, flicking through countless of tabs that teaches you how to give a handjob and how to ride a dick. he swears that he even saw a article with the title: "how to make someone cum"

this stirred something inside of jisung so he, shockingly, made the first move to kiss you and you happily reciprocated. the two of you awkwardly move around on your bedsheets, struggling to peel items of clothing off of your bodies and you laugh at the way his sweater gets caught around his head. laughing helps eases the situation and you both share a few giggles but the nerves come immediately flying back when jisung is between your open legs, hands shaking as he rolls the condom on his length.

your body trembles with anxiety, trying to hold yourself back from covering your most intimate areas and you refuse to meet his eyes when he hovers over you, his breath fanning across your cheeks. jisung feels his own body shake with anxiety as he wraps his hand around himself, nudging his tip at your entrance and the painful gasp you let out during his first initial push makes him freak out, pulling back almost immediately you shake your head, fingers interlocking with his tightly, eyes staring into his so lovingly as he pushes back into you.

©mrkis

#nct dream reaction #nct dream smut reaction #nct smut #nct dream smut #mark lee smut #renjun smut #jeno smut #donghyuck smut #jaemin smut #chenle smut #jisung smut

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sl-ut · 1 year

Text

habits

pairing: tess servopoulos x fem!sex worker!reader

description: tess has a lot of bad habits, but this is the one that she can’t break.

warnings: UNEDITED, smut, implied age gap, mention of assault (physical and sexual), reader has a bush (sorry, but i feel like pubic hair removal would not be a priority in the apocalypse), slight praise kink, substance use

words: 3.7K

date posted: 05/03/23

Tess is a creature of habit. She wasn’t one to veer out of her daily routines, she preferred to consistently wear the same shirt as much as possible (not that she really had many other options), and she always made sure to drop a splash of old–and probably somewhat toxic–whisky into her cup of coffee every morning. Her worst habit of all, though, was that she could scarcely go a single day without swinging by Y/n’s place everyday after she finished her work detail.

She’d first encountered Y/n a few years back, spotting her amongst the crowd as she leaned against the brick exterior of an apartment building with a few other girls. Y/n appeared to have stuck out from the others, appearing somewhat uncomfortable in her shirt that seemed to be a few sizes too small and opting to smile shyly at passing men rather than catcalling or flirting like the others had. Tess stopped to watch for a moment, shaking her head at the group, though her eyes scarcely slipped away from Y/n’s figure.

At first, she’d pitied the girls; they weren’t the only ones in the QZ who had resorted to such work in order to survive–hell, what she and Joel did was probably ten times worse than giving some poor soul a decent night, but there was something about her that made her want to protect her from harm, to keep her from being abused and groped by random guys on the street.

Then she was thankful for them. She’d just stormed out of Joel’s apartment after yet another scuffle with the stubborn man, intent on returning to her own place to drink herself into a dreamless sleep when she spotted her. There were less girls with Y/n this time, likely off with their own clients, and she was wearing something much looser and probably more comfortable than the last time she’d seen her. Tess paused, intending to cross the street and move on, but her feet quickly began leading her towards the small group.

“Hi there,” one of the girls grinned at her slyly, “Can I help you with something?”

“Or me?” The tall blonde interrupted, taking a step towards the woman and jutting out her chest, “Or both of us, or maybe all three? I guess it all depends on what you’ve got on you.”

Tess shook her head, glancing past both of them and locking eyes with the third girl before nodding at her, “You.”

“Me?” She pointed to herself, glancing at the other two girls who scowled slightly at her.

“Yeah, you. Unless you don’t want my business.”

“No, no,” The girl shook her head, stepping forward and extending her hand to her, “Come on, then.”

Tess allowed her to lead her into the apartment building, turning into the third door on the left. The apartment was almost dimly lit by a series of candles, and despite its small size, Tess could tell that there were several people living there due to the bed sheets hanging from the ceiling to divide the space into smaller rooms. The air stank of sweat, sex, and booze, and the shadows being cast on several of the bed sheets combined with the raunchy sounds revealed exactly what was going on inside.

Y/n’s designated area was mostly taken up by a small, twin-sized mattress, a rickety side table, and a dresser. She appeared to have done as much as she could to spruce the area up for both herself and for her clients by having a small mason jar of flowers on the dresser, as well as a few knick-knacks here and there, though there was no disguising the fact that her room was made up of just four curtains.

Tess took a seat on the edge of the mattress, watching as Y/n began to slowly peel her clothing away to reveal a mismatched set of dusty blue cotton panties and a hot pink bralette underneath.

“How much?” Tess broke the silence, eyes scanning over Y/n’s figure in the dim, flickering light.

Y/n pursed her lips, shoulders settling tensely as she tried to feign somewhat of a relaxed state, “Three for oral, five for vaginal, eight for anal. Ten for a bit of everything.”

Tess nodded, noting the wavering of her tone as she fished through her pocket for her cards, dropping ten onto the bedside table, “Do your worst.”

That was two years ago. Initially, Tess was disappointed in herself for bending to a whim like that; to her, spending cards on sex wasn’t exactly practical, nor did it seem worth it. She hadn’t intended on going back, but no more than three weeks later she had returned and offered Y/n another ten cards for her time.

Y/n was addicting for her. Her lips were always softer than Tess’s and tasted like coconuts, and always felt so good against her own. She was a bit tense in the beginning, having admitted to having only slept with two other women before her, but quickly warmed up. Initially, she wouldn’t allow too much on Tess’s end, permitting her hands to wander and allowing her to dip her fingers into her heat from time to time, but she would always stop her before she could feel any pleasure of her own and take care of Tess instead. Tess soon found herself going to Y/n more often, sometimes appearing at the apartment several times a week to find some release.

Sometimes when she would arrive, Y/n would be with other clients. The other girls always offered to take care of her, sliding their palms across her shoulders seductively before dropping them back to their sides when she insisted on waiting for her preferred girl. Tess would sit across the street, eyeing those who stepped out of the apartment complex in disarray, always pushing away that gnawing feeling in her gut that she could only associate with jealousy, especially when they were other women. Tess understood that this was Y/n’s profession, and that Tess was no different than any of her other patrons, but she couldn’t help the growing affection that she felt for the girl each time that she visited.

Sometimes when Tess was in a rush, she would deal with having Y/n get her off quickly before she went back to her responsibilities, but she much preferred the days where she could actually talk to her. After so many visits, Tess began to take notice of her quirks, little habits of her own that she always did, how she always shivered under her touch, certain aspects of her personality that made Tess’s stomach erupt in butterflies. She most enjoyed the days where they would talk for a while afterwards, sharing quiet whispers and soft kisses, though they wouldn’t have been heard anyways over the sounds from the surrounding cubicles. The relationship quickly developed from being born out of Tess’s need for some release to Tess genuinely caring for the girl, all she wanted was a chance to show her just that.

Tess was surprised one day when she arrived outside of the apartment complex, finding the usual group lingering just outside the front door. When she didn’t find Y/n immediately, she figured that she was with someone, though the others quickly let her know that Y/n was not working for the rest of the day, vaguely describing a guard who came in and got a little too rough with her.

“I can take you,” the petite redhead had cooed at her, “You look like you could give me a run for my money.”

Tess shook her head, shoving past them to shoulder her way through the door to the apartment and ignoring their shouting for her to stop. She quickly scampered through the hallways constructed out of curtains, finding the one she so often visited and tore the curtain back.

Y/n sat up in surprise, arms wrapped tightly around her figure and dressed in an old, baggy sweater and some sweatpants, probably the most covered up that Tess had ever seen her. Her hair looked unkempt, and her face was red and splotchy in the few spots that weren't swollen with dark purple bruises. Shock and uncertainty crossed her features as she took in Tess’s appearance; she, too, had gotten a good beating a few days back, her own cheek tinted yellow and sore to the touch.

“Tess,” she breathed, scrambling off of the mattress and crossing the small space to cup her face, “What happened to you?”

“Me?” Tess asked, incredulously, “Baby, what happened to you?”

Y/n’s eyes were glassy, tears brimming her waterline as she choked on her own words, slowly giving some description of exactly how she’d ended up like that, quickly wiping away any of the tears that managed to escape. She ended her story by quickly affirming to her, “I’m sorry, I can ask one of the other girls to take you, tell them what you like–”

Tess shook her head, “No, no, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Are you?”

Y/n sniffled and shook her head, taken aback at the genuinity behind Tess’s words–no one had ever cared for her like this before. She crossed her arms over her chest, “I’m probably just gonna hit the sack, shake it off before tomorrow.”

Tess glanced at the old mattress, her lip curling at the idea of Y/n spending the night alone on it while being forced to endure the other girls with their own clients. She brushed the pad of her thumb over Y/n’s swollen cheekbone, “Come with me, just for the night. I can’t say that it’s really much better than this place, but you’re never gonna get any actual rest here.”

The younger girl mulled over the offer for a few moments, shifting her gaze between her sock-clad feet and Tess’s soft gaze a few times before she finally responded, “Are you sure?”

Tess hadn’t been exaggerating when she said that her own apartment was not much larger or any grander, but the simple fact that she didn’t live with five other girls who had a constant string of men in and out made all the difference. It was a small studio style apartment, the bed in one corner while the kitchen occupied another, and while it was equally as dark and dingy as most of the other apartments in the QZ, but with a few of her belongings lying around, Y/n felt a warm feeling overpower any of the fear that she had been full of the entire journey there. Tess guided her to sit on the small, lumpy sofa, a gentle hand cupping the small of her back before she made quick work of dabbing over her face with a torn rag soaked in whiskey.

“You gonna tell me what happened?”

Y/n was silent for a beat, flinching away as Tess pushed a little too hard on her flesh, “This guy came in, he comes around a lot but he always asks for Scarlet. He was pissed off when I told him that she was with someone else, but he said that I would do so I figured everything was fine, and then he just started to get really rough–” she paused to compose herself as her voice cracked, “When I asked him to stop, he just started hitting me. That’s when the other girls came in and got him off of me, but he got a few licks in.”

Tess barely met her gaze, instead turning to eye her midsection, which she seemed to be cradling with her arms tightly wound around herself. The older woman reached out, fingers playing with the hem of the sweatshirt hesitantly, “Did he hit you down here? Can I see?”

Y/n moved her arms, nodding silently as she made slow movements to pull her sweater over her head. Tess’s breath caught in her throat as Y/n exposed the dark handprints that were embedded in her flesh, her fingers instantly reaching out to caress the swollen skin with as much tenderness as possible.

“How do you feel?”

Y/n shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest to at least cover her breasts, “Doesn’t hurt too much anymore. Everything just aches, I guess.”

“Here,” Tess rushed to the kitchen, digging through one of the drawers and returning with two small white pills, “Take these, they’ll help with the pain.”

Had it been anyone else to be offering her a handful of mystery pills, Y/n would have laughed in their face, but she showed absolutely no signs of hesitation before she dry swallowed the tablets.

“Do you need anything?” Tess asked her, “Water, coffee, food?”

Y/n shrugged, tugging her sweater over her head, “Could you–I mean, if you don’t mind, I just–”

Tess grasped Y/n’s knee to encourage her to spit it out.

“Could you just… hold me?”

Tess almost laughed at how nervous she sounded, as if she would actually give up the opportunity to have Y/n in her arms, and she probably would have if it weren’t for the desperation in her eyes. Tess nodded, offering her a hand and leading her over to the hastily made bed in the corner.

She laid down, stretching across the mattress and pulling her close so that she could lay comfortably on her chest. Y/n burrowed into her warmth, tucking her face as deep into the nape of her neck as physically possible and inhaling her scent. Tess sighed, allowing herself to sink into the horribly uncomfortable mattress and lay as still as possible to avoid disturbing her. Instead, she buried her nose into her hair and pressed soft kisses into her scalp, smoothing a gentle palm down the length of her back.

Y/n lifted her head, laying it on the pillow so that she could see the older woman, her voice scarcely above a whisper, “Thank you.”

Tess raised her hand, pushing a lock of hair out of her face, “You don’t need to thank me. You think I would just leave you there? Come on, baby, you know I like you too much for that.”

The ghost of a smile appeared on her face, features appearing far more relaxed than they had all evening. Y/n slid her own palm up the length of Tess’s side, bringing it up to cup her cheek as she scooted closer, forcing her lips as close to Tess’s as physically possible without actually touching, glancing up for permission. Tess didn’t waste a moment before pressing a kiss of her mouth, moving her lips slowly against her so as to not rush or pressure her.

Y/n’s lips curled into a smile against her, pulling her even closer as her hands began to run down the span of Tess’s side, fingers finding their destination hurriedly as she began to unbuckle her belt and reach for the button of her jeans. Tess jumped, her own hands grasping Y/n’s to stall her movements.

“You don’t have to–”

“I want to,” Y/n looked wild, her hair mussed up and eyes wide and glossy, “Please, I just need to get my mind off of it.”

Tess shook her head, shifting her weight on the mattress to hover over the younger woman, stroking her cheek gently as she pressed a soft, but firm kiss to her lips, “It’s okay, just let me take care of you, huh? You always take such good care of me.”

Y/n appeared to have been somewhat taken aback, but quickly nodded her head, leaning up to capture another kiss, only this time it was considerably more passionate. Teeth and tongues began to clash as hands wandered up and down the expanse of each other’s bodies, shirts quickly being abandoned somewhere on the floor.

Tess cupped each of Y/n’s breasts, pressing them together snugly as she began to kiss and nip at the tender flesh, careful to avoid any of the swollen fingerprints left on her skin. Y/n let out a small gasp as she felt the blunt bite of Tess’s teeth around one of her sensitive nipples as her fingers tugged at the other. Tess grinned wolfishly up at her, “You’ve been holding all of those pretty noises back from me, haven’t you?”

Y/n bit her lip, nodding impatiently.

“Let them out, beautiful, I wanna hear you.”

Tess slowly made her way down the plush of her belly, pressing her lips to the soft skin as she moved towards the waistband of her sweats, fingers making quick work of the knot at the front so that she could pull them down her legs. She knelt back, taking in the sight of the young woman laying in front of her, eyes wide and glossy with emotion and vulnerability. Tess lifted one of her calves once she removed the sweats and the cotton panties that she had been wearing, pressing gentle kisses from her ankle up to her inner thigh, pausing to take in the sight in front of her. Her eyes locked onto Y/n’s face, the flesh of her cheeks darkened with blush and lips swollen, then flickered down to the patch of thick curls between her thighs. Tess almost moaned aloud as she pressed her legs open, allowing her to see the slick that had gathered among the curls and the treasure that existed beneath them.

Tess dug her teeth into the flesh of her thigh, once again careful to avoid any of the tender flesh left by that moron–she had made a mental note to get his name from Y/n later on–and grinned up at her, “Look at this. God, can’t believe you’ve been keeping this from me, baby.”

She laid her palm flat against her lower belly, thumb landing on her mound and massaging the hairy patch, chuckling as Y/n moaned out and began to thrust her hips forward, desperate to have Tess move her attention lower to where she needed her most.

“Next time I wanna hear you beg,” Tess told her, finally moving her thumb down to press on the swollen hood of her clit, “But I’m feeling nice today.”

Y/n sighed contentedly as small, quick circles began to be drawn on her clit. Tess moved to lay on her belly in between her thighs, leaning her face closer and blowing a gust of cool air against her heat before dragging her tongue slowly through her folds a few times, then centering her attention on the bundle of nerves.

Y/n gasped out her name, fingers winding through the brunette locks of the woman between her thighs, “Fuck, Tess.”

“That feel good?” Tess cooed, pressing a single digit into her core, “Tell me, pretty girl.”

“Yes,” She panted, back arching off of the mattress, “Please more.”

Tess obliged, sinking a second finger in as she continued to assault her puffy clitoris with her tongue, carefully scraping over it with her teeth and chuckling as the gasp that it elicited. She curled her fingers, searching until she finally found the spongy patch of flesh inside of her. Tess prodded at this spot with her fingertips repeatedly, encouraged by the bucking of Y/n’s hips and increased moaning as she did so.

“Fuck, please don’t stop.”

Tess laughed against her, sending a series of vibrations into her clit. Y/n whined out, pressing her hips impossibly closer as she fought for her release. Tess could feel her walls tightening around her fingers–she couldn’t help but admire how incredibly tight she was becoming. She squeezed her thigh with her free palm, encouraging her to let go without releasing the suction grip she had made on her clit.

“I’m gonna–” Y/n’s breath caught in her throat, coming out in sharp gasps as her body began to tremble under Tess’s touch, “I’m gonna–oh my God!”

With a final clench of her walls around Tess’s fingers, the tightening coil in Y/n’s gut finally snapped, her release flooding over the length of Tess’s digits as she continued to fuck her through it; all white and sticky and making a mess of the blankets beneath her. Tess pulled her fingers free, moving her tongue down to catch as much of her release as she could while pressing her fingers through the seam of Y/n’s lips to allow her to taste herself. Both women moaned at the taste–it was tangy and salty, a taste like no other.

Tess pulled away, pressing one final kiss to Y/n’s clit as she moved to lay beside her and pull her back into her arms. Y/n kissed her, her lips chapped from being bitten and desperate for Tess’s affections, which she was just as eager to give.

Pulling back and laying her head on the pillow to catch her breath, Y/n glanced at the older woman with a small smirk on her lips, “So, how much do I owe you?”

Tess snorted, shaking her head at her, rolling onto her side to face her. All humour dropped from her face as she made her next request, “Don’t go back there.”

“What?” Y/n furrowed her brows in confusion.

“Don’t go back. You’re gonna get yourself killed,” She cupped each of her cheeks in her palms to force her to meet her gaze, “You can do small jobs here and there, but I can provide for the both of us, for the most part. I can’t promise you much, but I can offer you much more than they can over there.”

Y/n sighed, “Tess–”

“Don’t say anything. I can’t let you go back there, not when I can have you here.”

“Tess–”

“I love you, or at least, I think I do. That’s what I can offer, and I’ll do my best to protect you from something like this happening ever again.”

“Tess–”

“Don’t say anything, just say yes. Please.”

A small smile appeared on her face, somewhat calming the pounding of Tess’s heart. Anxiety ate away at the lining of her stomach, both anticipation of her answer and fear from how vulnerable she had just made herself. There was another beat of silence before Y/n leaned forward, capturing her lips in another kiss and whispering her answer.

#tlou #the last of us #tess servopoulos #tess servopoulos x reader #tess x reader #the last of us imagine #tess servopoulos fanfiction #tess servopoulos imagine #wlw #lesbian

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regretisstoredintheme · 1 year

Note

Hi! I randomly came across your lovely place and wanted to request a random story that came to mind. Could you do how the rise turtles would react to a yokai bunny reader with sensitive ears and tail. Maybe they accidentally touch the ears or tail. (heck, if you decide to do this you can choose whether its pain sensitive or not.) So yeah. . . . . . . . . . . .I'm bored tbh. I just mainly want fluff and comfort. I have just been having a hard time. So with that for now. . . Arrivederci!

Bumbadebedebedebedum! Ba— OOHHHHHH????

What’s this??

*snatches paper*

A Request????

“yourlocalsarcasticsoftshell asked: Hi! I randomly came across your lovely place and wanted to request a random story that came to mind. Could you do how the rise turtles would react to a yokai bunny reader with sensitive ears and tail. Maybe they accidentally touch the ears or tail. (heck, if you decide to do this you can choose whether its pain sensitive or not.) So yeah. . . . . . . . . . . .I'm bored tbh. I just mainly want fluff and comfort. I have just been having a hard time. So with that for now. . . Arrivederci!”

A/N: this only reminds me of usagi lmao (/j), or is it Yuiichi? Idk his name honestly 😭 either way! I decided to base it more on anxiousness, the same way I don’t like people standing behind me. Like a nono square 😌 I hope you’re having a better time now, hun, and I hope my blog helps in some way :( my DMs are always open and I’ll do what I can.

—Literally Anything Else.—

Warnings(?): hurt/comfort, (less hurt more comfort) anxiousness, stating boundaries in a panic.

—

Mikey

Backs off immediately.

You two had been drawing together, leaning into each other’s side as music played.

He was drawing you.

how could he not? Watching your intent face as you tried to sketch a bird was the most interesting thing he’d ever seen. Your ears flicked slightly when you made a mistake, nose scrunching as you erased the lines.

His smile was consistent, looking from his sketchbook to your face. He tried not to turn his head so you wouldn’t get suspicious. He wanted to surprise you!

After he had indulged in drawing your face, he realized he had no idea how to go about your ears. He knew the shape of rabbit ears, he just didn’t know the physics! How would he bring it to life, he wondered.

That was when a curious hand reached out, brushing against the soft surface in an attempt to understand it.

You jumped back, holding the part of your ear protectively as you stated at him with an absolutely incredulous expression. “What in pizza supreme do you think you’re doing!?” You analyzed his face for any form of malice, brows furrowed with anxiety.

Mikey looked at how nervous you were, and felt Dr. Feelings come through a little as he thought through his next words. “I’m sorry, Y/n.” He spoke gently, a small smile gracing his lips as he gave you space, “I should have asked. I won’t do it again.”

You were surprised at how calm he was— how quickly he accepted it as fact and just went back to drawing. He wasn’t offended? Even after you were snappy?

Your nose twitched curiously, looking over at his sketchbook and coming face to face with yourself.

he was.. drawing you! You!!

There was an excruciating amount of detail, as if he wanted to memorize every crease of your face— every muscle that moved and every mark that he thought was beautiful.

You all but melted as you realized what he was trying to do, to — understand how you worked, He wanted to know more about you.

You leaned back into his side, sliding in a compliment about his art as he snuggled into your face, avoiding your ears with care.

Raph

Apologizes profusely.

You two were laying in what he called his “cuddle pile”, which was basically just all of his teddy bears and pillows in a huge mess of fluff.

He had an arm lazily wrapped around your torso, head pressed into your shoulder as he churred gently.

You chuckled as he snuggled in deeper, turning to give him a gentle kiss to whatever part of his face you could reach. You were simply sitting on your phone, scrolling mindlessly and showing him things you thought he would like.

He was more than entertained with your presence, not to mention his drowsiness. He was at ease, which probably explained why his thoughts curiously wandered to those fluffy ears of yours.

They just twitched ever so slightly when you laughed, it was adorable, and you had a little freckle on the inner side that he was dying to mention.

the curiosity was innocent, but oh so tempting, and before he knew it- His finger barely grazed the soft fur. At the simple touch, you were already jumping out of your skin, accidentally kicking him in the process. You held the spot he touched and rubbed it aggressively, trying to get rid of the feeling. You were so overstimulated you couldn’t even say anything, it was such a light touch!! God that was uncomfortable!!!

Raph was completely taken aback, first of all, what happened? and second, you were able to actually kick him away!? He’s big boy!!

“What’s wrong?” He asked quickly, then looked to where you tended to your droopy ear.

It clicked, and he let you regroup, trying to be as small as possible before he began rambling in apologies.

“Raph didn’t mean to— he- I- don’t know what I was thinking—“

He hops between third and first person when he’s nervous, and he knows hes messed up. He begins explaining in a rush how he never wanted to scare you, and how he would never do it again.

After wringing your hands out from the excess stimulation, You gently place your hand on his — a reminder that you weren’t made of glass.

He seemed to pause, searching your eyes for any fear or anger. When he saw none, he let out a breath of relief. He cradled you in his arms, promising he would always listen when you were uncomfortable.

Even though you had no doubts.

Leo

Surprised it bugs you that much.

On the couch, you both were talking over a movie you had seen a thousand times.

It wasn’t anything different from your normal routine. He was making you laugh, you were rolling your eyes— he would say a character’s lines in a funny voice and you would respond by finishing the quote.

You two were always a very touchy-feely couple, (it’s a shock he hadn’t figured out about your ears sooner) so it was no surprise when you ended up in his lap, both of you laughing like there was no tomorrow.

He went to lay his head on your shoulder, and by complete accident, brushed the side of your ear. A light touch, one he didn’t even think about, but you did.

You flinched away, giving an unhappy whine/grumble as you rubbed the feeling out of your fur.

Leon’s brow bone raised, one of those looks he always does when he’s about to tease you. “You’re not— ticklish, are you?”

“Please not this time.” You muttered, anxiously fidgeting where your fur and skin met.

The blue-clad turtle paused, waiting for you to go on. He kept both curiosity and his wits about him, a little worried to be honest.

“You can tease me all you want on anything else—“ you said quickly, squeezing your eyes shut, “this just.. makes me anxious.”

Leo thought for a moment, analyzing your sincere form. He didn’t like when you were upset, it made him upset, the way your face melded into a frown felt so wrong to him.

Sure, he didn’t understand why you didn’t like your ears being touched, but all that mattered was that you didn’t like it!! And he had to turn this around.

Out of the darkness, he suddenly got an idea— an idea that would bring your smile back. His eyes lit up for a moment, before returning to their confident gaze.

“Anything…?” He smirked, pulling you back into his lap— this time facing him.

You quickly realized your mistake, attempting to protest before being reduced to a fit of flustered giggles as he snuggled into the fur of your neck, attacking you with love despite your cries for mercy.

Donnie

Understands completely.

You two had been dating for approximately one week, (Donnie confirmed) and he knew he’d fallen head over heels.

Because of this, he had to make sure you were comfortable so there were no surprise arguments between the two of you. Comparatively— even though he states it awkwardly, He’s way better at communicating than most of his brothers (cough Leo and Raph COUGH)

So, when he sits you down in front of him, staring intensely at you with an aura of absolute seriousness— you thought he was mad at you!!!

“Alright, um—“ he coughed, mentally scolding himself for the unconfident start.

“You and I— our relationship,”

he’s stalling

you’re panicking.

“I want to discuss— a means of um— boundaries.” He holds back a sigh of relief at finally getting the words out. You looked so invested In what he was saying that he could swear he was gonna topple over.

You, however, gladly let go of the breath you were holding. “Oh— thank god..” you smiled, “I thought you were breaking up with me.”

“What??” He gives an incredulous look, “Why ever would I do that!?” He’s acting level headed, but inside he’s screaming.��

In any case.

You shyly described that the only thing you could think of off the top of your head was how sensitive your ears and tail were. “It makes me anxious when people touch them.” You muttered, fiddling with the ends of said ears.

Donnie simply nodded, “it’s the same with me and my shell.” He states, gesturing to the technology usually on his back 24/7. He didn’t make a big deal of it, simply wrote “no touchie ears/tail” up on the whiteboard under “concrete boundaries”

He paused, stepping back for a moment, “Wait— sorry, did you want me to ask or just not touch them at all?” He quirked a brow, and you shook your head, feeling a lot more confident in stating your feelings.

You had hardly ever felt more validated.

—

A/N: I FEEL BAD ITS SO SIMPLE SHDBJSHDJDHD but alas!! It was fun to write, and part of me is hoping that’s all that matters ^v^ in any case, Arrivederci!! I hope to see you again, Sarcas!! (Can I nickname you that is that okay—)

#rottmnt x reader #Leo x reader #tmnt x reader #Raph x reader #donnie x reader #mikey x reader #rottmnt leo x reader #rottmnt donnie x reader #rottmnt mikey x reader #ROTTMNT Raph x reader #ROTTMNT #regrettable writing

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kiribaku-queen · 1 year

Text

Pleasurable Secrets [18+]

Pairing: Kirishima x reader

Smut, romance

Warning: 18+

Word count: 12K

A/N: Are we still in Kinktober? Can I still post this? Anyway, I am a sucker for Kirishima and could not get this idea out of my bed! A love story with smut at the end <3

Summary: You didn't want to have anything to do with the students at UA high school. The past was the past and you were trying to make it stay that way by erasing those memories from your mind. That was hard to do when one of those memories comes back into your life. Would it be okay to let them back into your life, or would history repeat itself and end in tragedy like it always does?

You never thought you’d fall in love. You didn’t want to fall in love. And frankly, love was never in the cards for you. Especially not after what happened in high school. God, if you could erase UA high school from your memory, you would do it without a moment’s hesitation. UA was such a fantastic school, but you don’t have any fond memories of that place. The falling out you had with the current number 3 hero was so traumatic to you, that you refused to see him or anyone from that school for that matter. Actually, such a lame reason, but that falling out was also why you gave up on being a hero. So, you dropped out and attended a regular high school. FAR away from that school and those people. But ever since then, you didn’t think anyone could ever love you.

Were you scared? Maybe. But love never made its rounds back to you after high school. And that was okay with you. You didn’t need it. You were content at the fact that you were going to be alone forever… as sad as that sounds. It was true. You weren’t expecting to fall for someone so soon. Especially not him.

He came out of nowhere. You almost didn’t recognize him. You would have kept going on with your business had it not been for this small coincidence.

You were finally able to relax on the weekend, after a crazy and hectic schedule at work. There was a new project you were working on, and you could not rest until you had all the details worked out. You were able to take a short break for now, but it was going to be short lived. After finishing your cup of coffee, you were going to have to get back on it. You were on schedule for now, but it couldn’t hurt to be ahead for once. Then that will help with the stress later on.

You were waiting for your coffee to be done. Standing by the side, arms crossed, waiting patiently but also not because you watched one by one as everyone got called to get their drink, but not you yet. It wasn’t that complicated of a drink. If only you could just take one sip, then the growing headache you had would magically disappear.

“Iced macchiato!” the bartender called, placing the ice beverage right in the middle of the counter. With bright, widening eyes, you instantly got up to retrieve your drink. What you didn’t see was that someone else was also on their way to the drink. And when you had grabbed it, you also didn’t expect someone else’s hand to be on top of yours. You retracted your hand in surprise.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! Is this an iced macchiato?” you asked the bartender, hands now as close to your chest as possible.

“It is. For… A Kirishima?” the bartender called out the owner of the drink. Well if only he had said their name sooner. Wait… Kirishima? You hadn’t noticed that you didn’t get a good look at the person who was also grabbing the drink. Your eyes shot to the drink to this Kirishima, and your heart dropped.

Kirishima Eijirou.

Best friend of your ex. The one who completely and utterly destroyed your entire being. The one who made you stop believing in love. How is it on earth that you had to run into this Kirishima.

He was giving you a sheepish smile; one that was awkward and friendly. But it didn’t matter. You had no intention of even being friendly with any former students from UA, whether they had any involvement in the situation or not. You already decided that you weren’t going to associate with UA anymore, and you weren’t going to back on your word now. You didn’t return his smile. Instead, your look turned into annoyance and the atmosphere turned rather cold.

“Iced macchiato for (y/n)?” the bartender finally called out your drink. Thankfully, not long after your encounter with Kirishima.

“(y/n)?” Kirishima called out to you but you didn’t give him the chance. You grabbed your coffee and bolted out of there. With wide strides and the goal to get out of there as soon as possible, you ran away from your problem. There was nothing wrong with running from your problems. Actually, you thought it was a good tactic and how you ran your life.

“(y/n)!” you gasped when you heard Kirishima was actually running after you. You turned around, and sure enough, Kirishima was right behind your tail.

“What the fuck…” you muttered under your breath, now running faster away from him. Kirishima, now being the pro-hero that he was, caught up to you so easily, it wasn’t even a challenge.

“Wait a second, why are you running?” Kirishima grabbed your arm, halting you in your steps and forcing you to turn around.

“Don’t. Touch. Me.” you threatened through clenched teeth, forcefully removing your arm from his grasp. The glare and fire in your eyes was enough for him to get the message and back off. This time, he didn’t stop you from treading off, rather aggressively at that. Could you blame yourself? Maybe your anger got the best of you, but in the moment, you didn’t care. All you wished for was that you never bump into him again.

But luck wasn’t on your side. This was partially your fault. You’d think that after running into your former classmate that you really didn’t want to see, you would stop coming to that particular cafe for a while. But no. You went the next day. Thinking that there was on way you would bump into him again. What were the odds of that?

You entered the small, local cafe that you visited quite often. So often that the baristas knew you were a regular. You took a quick scan of the customers they had. No overbuilt, redhead to be seen. It looks like you were in the clear. You let out a shaky breath and finally relaxed. Yesterday was probably a glitch in the system. It was pure coincidence that you saw him here, you weren’t going to see him again.

After thanking the barista for the coffee, you took a seat at your spot in the cafe; one in the far corner right by the window so you could have a view while you were working. Sometimes, you need a change in atmosphere to help you work better and the cafe was always the place that you worked the best.

Kirishima had entered the coffee shop that he had visited yesterday. The coffee was good, but he wasn’t here because of the coffee. No. He was here in hopes of seeing you. He had to admit, you were probably the last person he expected to see. How long has it been since you disappeared? Almost 8 years? No one knew where you ran off to. Hell, no one knew if you were dead or alive. But that moment in the coffee shop… when your hands brushed against each other and he got a good look at you. He had to do a double take. You were just as gorgeous as he remembered. All his childish feelings from high school rushed at him like he was hit by a car. All the butterflies, all the heart flutters. His feelings for you never left him after all.

After yesterday’s events and how you reacted, he wasn’t sure if he was going to run into you again, especially not at the same place. But there you were. He hadn’t even entered the premises for him to notice you. He saw you clearly from the window seat that you were at, so concentrated on your laptop. Kirishima couldn’t help but smile and mutter,

“Cute.”

Kirishima hadn’t realized he said that out loud. But those intrusive thoughts got the better of him. He had to talk to you again. Yet, he didn’t want to upset you again. There’s so much that he wants to say, so much he wants to understand. Would you even let him in?

You were deep in concentration, not paying attention to the surroundings around you. Especially not even noticing who had sat down next to you. For some reason, the numbers you had written down were not working. You were sure that you had entered everything correctly. You double checked, even did the math manually. But each time, the numbers were not matching and you couldn’t figure out what you had done wrong. Once you figure out the budget, you could move on to the next step, but this has got you stumped. Frustration was building inside you. It was probably time for a break and another sip of coffee is what you needed. You buried your head in the palm of one hand, while the other reached for your coffee. Only for you to misjudge the distance of where your coffee was and you tipped it over, spilling it all over you and the person sitting next to you. Panic rose in you and you quickly picked the cup up to prevent even more liquid from pouring out, but it was already too late. The coffee had already gotten on the person next to you. Forget that it was all over yourself and partially your laptop. It was horrifying that you got someone else dirty from your mistake.

“Shit, I’m so sorry about that! Are you okay?” you asked the ‘stranger’, quickly trying to find something to clean them up with.

“I’m all good,” he reassured you. His voice made you freeze. It couldn’t be… You carefully glanced up, praying that it wasn’t who you thought it was. But you were always wrong. Kirishima had gladly taken the napkins you had given him to clean himself up. The coffee had gotten all over his pants. It was going to take more than just a couple napkins to clean this mess up. But you were too caught up in the fact that Kirishima had appeared in front of you once again. You didn’t get the chance to clean yourself up or your belongings. You just packed up everything you had and tried to bolt out of there, had it not been for your old classmate to stop you.

“Wait!” he called out to you, grabbing you by the arm again. Realizing what he had done and knowing that you did not like that yesterday, he quickly let go.

“Sorry… I know you don’t like that,” he apologized right after. But you did stop this time. You let out a sigh and turned right back around.

“You’re just going to leave?” he asks.

“I already said sorry,” you pointed out, a hint of annoyance can be heard in your voice.

“You’re upset,” he states. Like it wasn’t obvious today and yesterday. You didn’t stop to make small talk. Moreover, talk about what his best friend did to you that still haunts you to this day.

“What do you want, Kirishima?” you got cut straight to the chase. There had to be a reason why he was basically stalking you. Even if there was a justifiable reason, you were going to tell him what it was. To leave you alone. There was no need for your paths to cross again. For Kirishima, he couldn’t let this opportunity pass him by. When were you going to willingly talk to him again?

“Another coffee?” he made up some bullshit excuse. You raised a suspicious brow at him and looked over his shoulder to see a cup full of coffee that hasn’t been touched yet.

“You already have one,” you said.

“Well I could use another one already,” he shrugged. You weren’t sure. You felt bad that you had spilled your drink on him but at the same time, having to spend more time with him was not on your plans today. Kirishima could see the confliction in your eyes, so he had to push it another level.

“Come on, it's the least you could do after spilling coffee on me,” he tried to guilt trip you, and it worked. It was the least you could do. And then after this, no more contact with him. That was supposed to be the plan.

After the coffee shop, that was supposed to be it. But he kept showing up everywhere you went. The grocery store, the shopping center, in random places on the streets, even in different coffee shops! You could not escape this persistent man whom you wanted no contact with. But Kirishima did keep his distance. Whenever you made eye contact, he would always give you the most gentle smile, waving here and there, but never approaches you. You wouldn’t wave or smile back. The most you would do is probably acknowledge him, but most, if not all the time, you would simply look at him and walk away.

Kirishima knew better than to push your buttons. Even in high school, you gave off a cold demeanor. But he knew that there was a softer side to you. Because he’s seen it when you were together with his hot-headed friend. And he’s seen it firsthand, when you were always so sweet to him. If he approached you knowing that you weren’t interested, he knew he would find himself at the bottom of the sea. He didn’t want to go looking for trouble, so he became friendly from a distance. He didn’t want to ignore you because you were ignoring him. He wanted to let you know that he was not the person you should be afraid of. He would only approach you if he knew you were ready.

Today was an off day for Kirishima. Usually, he would wake up bright and early in the morning, head straight to the office, get some paperwork done he couldn’t finish the day before, go get his morning coffee, bump into you coincidentally, and finally be on his way to continue his mission. Ever since the morning, his whole routine has been thrown off. He woke up way later than he was supposed to. The sun was already rising, meaning that he was hella late and was going to get chewed out at the office. Expected. And then, he was so concentrated on his work that he didn’t realize that it was time for his daily coffee. Actually past the time he normally goes. You should already be at the coffee shop. But by the time he gets there, would have left already? He would have to try. So there he was, sprinting for the usual coffee shop, occasionally bumping into strangers while barely spitting out apologies. Would you be at the cafe today? You were there at the same time every day, without fail. But you wouldn’t stay for longer than you needed to. Always in and out, busy for the day and no time to linger. So it was his surprise to see you sitting down at one of the solo tables, casually sipping your coffee and… was he seeing wrong? Was he just imagining it? You were sipping your coffee with wandering eyes, as if you were looking for something. Or someone? Were you looking for him? He watched your movements for a bit, and sure enough, you were searching for someone. Often looking behind your shoulder, out the window, watching the passerbyers, and even when the bell rings every time someone opens the door. And the look of disappointment was so evident on your face when you see that the person you were looking for is not walking through that door. Was this a sign?

Kirishima straightened himself out and made his way through the door. The sound of the tiny bell rang throughout the local shop. He tried his best not to look at you, make it look like he was casually stopping by, but it was no use. The minute he walked through that door, you both made eye contact and he knew he had broken through to you when he saw you look away in embarrassment, pretending that you hadn’t been waiting for him.

He was quick to get his coffee and popped a squat right next to you, getting comfy. You both sat quietly as you sipped your coffees. It didn’t look like you were going to speak up soon, so Kirishima took the liberty in starting the conversation.

“How’s your coffee?” he starts out.

“Good,” you mutter.

“What did you get?” he’s curious. You didn’t answer him. Instead, you turn your cup around to show him the tag of your drink. Classic (y/n) getting the same, old drink.

“Aren’t going to spill it on me this time, are you?” he teases.

“It was an accident and you know it,” you defended yourself.

“How was I supposed to know? How do I know you’re not out to get me?” he continues to tease but his words was not teasing to you. Was he referring to what happened in the past? Did he think that you were out to get him? For revenge? His teasing darkened the mood, making you feel bad and insecure about yourself.

“Am I really a threat to you?” you asked seriously, but almost in a whisper. Kirishima quickly noticed the change in mood. He stopped his teasing tactics and became serious.

“No.” he was stern in his answer. “No, you were the sweetest to me back in high school. Probably one of the sweetest girls I’ve ever met.”

“One of them,” you couldn’t help mumble after hearing his choice of words. Making it seem like he was just saying to be nice and that his statement wasn’t actually true.

“Then the sweetest girl I’ve ever met,” he changed his statement. Because it was true. You never failed to reassure him and make him feel good about himself. All throughout high school, even when everyone was picking on him for something stupid, you were there to fend for him. Every time you passed, you never failed to give him a smile, along with a few words of positivity. You were, as some would say, a pocket of sunshine. How could you have ever dated his best friend when he was basically the opposite of you. Now look at you. Where was that smile you carried everywhere you went?

Silence.

“How you been (y/n)?” he asked with utmost sincerity. He genuinely wanted to know.

“Fine,” you kept it short.

“Work?”

“Boring.” Kirishima chuckles. You wanted to stop responding. You wanted to seem like you didn’t want to talk to him. But for every question, you kept finding yourself answering, no matter how much you tried not to.

“You?” you finally ask Kirishima a question which surprised him at first.

“What about me?” he tries to get more out of you. You bit the inside of your cheek, feeling somewhat embarrassed now.

“How’s work?” you managed to get out.

“Slow,” he responded truthfully.

“Is that why you’re in town?” you were always curious on why he was here, out of all places. A small town where there’s absolutely nothing here. Especially compared to the big city he was living in, there really should be no reason for him to visit a town like this.

“Mm, there’s a mission I have to do here. But can’t tell you about it,” he jokes.

“Oh, secretive,” you actually managed to joke back. You didn’t think you had it in you, but somehow it just slipped out.

“But I can tell you that I’m glad I came on this mission,” he says.

“Why’s that?” you asked but you now you were afraid of what he was going to say.

“Because I got to see you again,” Kirishima confesses. And that was the answer you didn’t want him to say. “I’m really glad I met you here.”

“Kirishima…” you began.

“Let’s be friends,” he insists, cutting you off.

“You know I can’t do that,” you say practically like you were giving up. “I’ll be honest, it was nice seeing a familiar face, but I think I’d rather not be friends.”

“Why?” he just couldn’t understand or wrap his head around it.

“Do we really need to talk about this?”

“Yes, because I don’t know what I did for you to be this upset at me that we can’t be friends. We had some good times back in high school.”

“Maybe for you,” you said bitterly.

“Look, is it because of…”

“I don’t want to talk about it. It’s just best that we are not friends. We can say hi passing, but that’s it. Okay?” you laid down the ground rules. But that didn’t discourage Kirishima one bit.

“Alright. We don’t have to be friends. But every time I see you, I will be coming up to you to say hi. That’s alright, right?” Kirishima found a loophole. You wanted to shrink yourself because that’s not technically what you meant, but it’s not like you could go back on your word now.

“Well…” you tried to counter argue but Kirishima cut you off again.

“You did say that I could come up to you in passing,” he reiterated your words. So you said, fine. You allowed him to say hi to you if you two crossed paths. But that was quite often.

You two didn’t just see each other at the coffee shop. It was the grocery store. It was around town. It was in some places unexpected. It was an everyday occurrence. And because it was an everyday occurrence, you became more and more comfortable around his presence. You opened up more, talked to him more, smiled more. Seeing him didn’t feel so awful anymore. But even then, you were reluctant to call yourselves friends.

If you were out, letting him meet some of your friends, you would always introduce him as ‘Kirishima’. Nothing more, nothing less. Because even if you were friendly with each other, you don’t know if you would call him your friend just yet. Could you fully trust him after that high school tragedy? There was nothing he did that you could make you not trust him, but there was always something in the back of your mind that made you wait to wait a little longer. But Kirishima, on the other hand, always introduced you as his friend.

“I’m not your friend,” you would whisper to him when no one else was paying attention.

“But you are my friend. So, it’s not like I’m lying,” he simply shrugs it off and continues to jump in his friend’s conversations.

It took quite a bit of time. 2 years exactly. For you to finally accept that you two were friends. You were okay with the fact that someone from your past was back in your life. Kirishima couldn’t hide his excitement when he heard the good news of getting out of the stranger zone. Now he had another goal to hit: getting out of the friend zone.

Kirishima learned one important lesson over these couple of years trying to get you to be friends with him. And that was: his crush for you never left him. Trying to win you over as a friend made his crush for you grow even larger. Now he needed to win you over in a different way. And he tried many a things, making it pretty known to everyone around you that he likes you. He couldn't be more obvious.

When you meet up for your daily coffee run, he’s already there, your coffee already bought and ready for you to drink as soon as you get there. You don’t get sick often, but when you do and Kirishima hears about this, he is immediately on his way to take care of you. He’ll bring blankets, snacks and medicine to help you fight back against your illness. You’d always protest that you were okay, but when he hears that nasty cough, he’s pushing his way through and forcing you to take a rest on your bed. Then, he’d pull up one of your comfort movies and watch along side you in the chair right next to your bed, giving you all the space you needed. And he did everything without a single complaint. It was also a regular thing for him to comment how good you looked.

“Looking good today, (y/n)!”

“Wow! You look so pretty, (y/n)!”

“Hey pretty lady! How we doing today?”

“Did you do something different with your hair today? Because you look stunning.”

“You have the cutest smile, you know that?”

His comments always got you embarrassed. Because he would even say that in public where there’s several people around you and it was always so loud, too. So then, people would be looking in your direction, laughing and gushing at how cute you guys were as a couple. And every time, you’d have to let them know that you guys were not a couple and definitely not dating. But Kirishima wished it was something more.

“See? Everyone thinks we are cute together! Let’s date,” he would try. His tone would be very joking to you, but that’s his nerves getting the best of him. So, of course you don’t take him seriously.

“No, thank you,” you would shut him down. But he’d keep on trying, every time with failure. There would be some days where he would think he was making progress, only to be shut down once again.

Kirishima wouldn’t let this bit go. In fact, it went on for another year or so of constantly asking you out on a date or asking you to be his girlfriend. You couldn’t understand it. You thought he was doing it at first just to be funny. But this was happening so consistently, so frequently, so much so that it became a daily thing and now you couldn’t help but think he was being serious. You? Out of all people? He would want to be with you? And like you? Didn’t he see how your relationship in high school worked out? Doesn’t he remember what you did? You had to get to the bottom of this. You confronted him when he showed up at your apartment, leaning against the door frame with arms folded across your chest.

“Why do you want me to be your girlfriend so much?” you finally asked the long awaited question. It caught him off guard but answered it nonetheless.

“Because I like you. Isn’t that obvious?” he said it so nonchalantly.

“No, it is. But… I don’t understand how you could like someone like me,” you say.

“Well, first off, let me in please,” he grabbed you gently by the shoulders and shimmied his way past you and into your apartment.

“You are the most gorgeous person I’ve ever met. You are the kindest, the sweetest, the funniest, the more charismatic person I know. How could I not fall for you?” he stated, falling down onto your couch and making himself at home. You followed him, sitting right next to him. You were silent because you didn’t know how to accept it.

“And, well. I never really stopped liking you, after high school.” he continued.

“What do you mean?” you became confused. Never stopped? He’s liked you before?

“I liked you way before him. He just got to you before I could.”

“And you still liked me… even after you found out what happened?”

“(y/n),” Kirishima knew where you were going with this.

“I cheated on him. Did you forget that? Are you still going to like me even after you know that I’m a cheater?” you accused yourself, feeling choked up. You tried your best to hold it in, pressing your lips together in a pout. But tears weld in your eyes and your brows kept frowning. You stared intensely at the red-head in front of you to prevent the tears from spilling.

“I know you didn’t do it,” he tried to comfort you.

“If you knew, then why didn’t you do anything?” you raised your voice, violently wiping the tears away. “Everyone turned on me. Everyone made me into a villain. But I didn’t do it… I was framed. I just didn’t know how to prove it then.” you cried into your hands.

Your life was so perfect. Your boyfriend was one of the toughest guys in the school, you had a great group of friends, you were passing with flying colors. You were living your life to the fullest. Then, all of a sudden, your life came crashing down on you. You no longer had a boyfriend, you no longer had that supportive group, you no longer had the best life. All because of some baseless rumor that everyone believed. No one wanted to hear you out. You thought you were friends with everyone. So, you had no idea what you did to piss someone off for them to create this rumor that you were cheating. But they did a pretty damn good job of ruining your life. Because after everyone had turned their backs on you, you were left with no one. You eventually left before graduation and finished high school somewhere else. You cut off everyone from high school out of your life and tried your best to forget anything about high school. You were doing a good job of it, until someone just had to come back into your life.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t do anything.” Kirishima apologized. You knew he was sorry. Honestly, what could he have done back then? Maybe if you were in his shoes, you would have done the same thing. But because it was happening to you and no one was on your side, it hurt.

“That’s why I didn’t want to see you. Because I was so mad at everyone for not even hearing me out. No one heard my side of the story.” you had never told anyone this. You poured your heart out, finally speaking out about this out loud for the first time. Now someone was hearing your side of the story, you were going to say everything you wanted.

“I thought you just needed space,” he said. It was true that he was surprised when he heard the rumor of you cheating on his best friend. He was one of the last people to know and everyone was already chatting and gossiping. He heard there was proof, that there were pictures showing that you were not innocent. His best friend was heated like he’s never seen before. Everything was happening so much at once, he didn’t know what to do. Did he want to talk to you? Of course he did. But in the mornings, you were always the last one in class to avoid the gossiping. During breaks, you always ran and hid in the bathroom. As soon as the bell rang at the end of the day, you bolted out of there. There was no time to approach because you didn’t give anybody a chance to talk to you. Hearing Kirishima’s response, you suddenly became angry.

“I needed someone to believe me! I needed someone to be by my side, but you all turned against me!” you shouted, not caring if hot tears were streaming down your face. The one thing you wanted the most was for someone, anyone to believe you. But no one gave you that.

“(y/n), you don’t need to give me proof. If you said you didn’t do it, I’ll believe in you. If you said you were framed, I’ll be on your side. I’ll defend you till the day I die. If you think you have no one, you have me.” Kirishima smacked his chest, giving you some reassurance that now someone was on your side.

“Thanks, but it’s a little too late for that now. That’s why I said in the beginning that I didn’t want to be friends. Truthfully, I didn’t want to be associated with you at all because even though it was so long ago, I never got over those feelings of betrayal. It hurt so bad…” your voice cracked. “And now I don’t know what to do because my mind is telling me to keep my distance but I like you too much.” you suddenly confessed.

“Wait, you like me?” Kirishima’s heart skipped a beat, but he had conflicted feelings. His heart hurt for you, seeing you break down like this, but there was another part of him that was starting to get giddy from your sudden confession.You didn’t respond, only wiping your eyes.

“Then let me stay by your side. Let me support you. If it takes years for you to trust me, I’ll wait that long. You don’t have to go through this alone,” he tells you.

“What if it takes forever?” you became sad and guilty. It’s not like you were purposely trying to lead him on. You just didn’t know if you could commit to a relationship given the situation.

“Then I’ll wait that long. Trust me. If I can wait for you for 10 years, I can wait a little more.”

And it did take you a while to really put all your trust in him. You weren’t sure if it was because you were stubborn or if you truly thought this relationship wasn’t going to work out. But for more years to come, he would ask you out and you kept saying no. For some reason, the constant rejection never scared Kirishima away. It only made him more determined.

It only took 3 years of constant flirting and courting and romantic gestures for you to finally say yes.

“But there needs to be some ground rules,” you say quickly before Kirishima smushes you in a bear hug. “You’re a public figure, right?”

“Not the biggest, but you could say that. Why? Nervous to get all the attention?” he teases, grabbing your hand and pulling you into him softly. He embraces you in his arms while moving the tiny hairs out of your face.

“That’s the thing, I don’t want any attention. Can we be lowkey about this? Because I know you’re still friends with people from high school and now that we are… you know. I know they are your friends but I don’t really want them knowing and I don’t want it be weird and all, especially since your best friend is my ex,” you asked for a rather big favor. But Kirishima was completely fine with it.

“Oh, a secret relationship, huh?” he teased to lighten up the mood but you didn’t laugh at his humor.

“Eijirou, I’m being serious,” you say.

“Yeah, we can do that, no problem,” he says now matching your tone, but still smitten with how you were his now. “Now that you’ve had your chance, it’s my turn to ask you a serious question.” Oh? You tilted your head in interest, your eyes full of curiosity. It just made Kirishima want to cup your face and leave you the sloppiest kiss. But he shall refrain from now.

“Move back to the city with me,” he said. That took you by surprise.

“All of a sudden?”

“Well my mission here is done.,” That’s right! The whole reason why he was here in the first place was because he was sent here on a mission. That was so long ago and it only now finished?

“Oh my god, I forgot all about that! That took such a long time!” you exclaimed. Kirishima blushed sheepishly.

“To tell you the truth, that mission finished years ago.”

“Years?!” you couldn’t believe your ears, leaning back and grabbing a hold of his shoulders to get a better look at him. You had such a shocked expression but Kirishima only blinked back at you cluelessly.

“Mm, it didn’t take me long to find those villains,” he put a fist up.

“If it finished so long ago, then why are you still here? Shouldn’t you have gone back by now?” you asked.

“I stayed for you,” he confessed, making your expression go soft. “I begged my agency to let me stay here for as long as I can. But now, I’ve been called back for another mission so I kind of have to move back. But I want you to come with me,” he insisted. But you felt a sudden panic rise in your chest. Moving to the city means a bigger chance of you bumping into those people. You didn’t know if you wanted to take the risk.

“Eijirou, I don’t know…” you hesitated.

“Are you worried about bumping into them?” Kirishima asked, his voice turning soft as if careful not to scare you anymore with his loud voice. You nodded your head.

“I’ll make sure they’ll never be around you,” he promised.

“But I don’t want to feel like you have to separate yourself from your friends. I don’t want to ruin your friendships,” you said, feeling so guilty. You didn’t want to be that girlfriend. The one who makes their boyfriend give up all their friends to be with you. That wasn’t fair.

“You won’t be. But I’ll keep a good eye out for you. If I know they are in the area, I’ll let you know so you can avoid them. I won’t force you to go out either, so you can stay home all day if you want,” he proposed.

“It does sound tempting… are you implying that I should be a stay at home girlfriend?” you teased.

“I am not forcing you to do anything,” he calmly responded, bringing you closer to him and leaned his forehead against yours which caused you to blush violently.

“Fine. But if I’m moving back with you to the city, we can’t be doing any of this,” you pointed with your fingers at how much skinship you two were showing.

“But we aren’t in public, are we? I can do this as much as I want, right?” he smirked and you couldn’t hide your smile.

“Yes…” you shyly say.

“Good. You better get used to it because I’m never letting you go now.”

You wished he was joking, but he was oh so serious. He kept his promise ever since moving back to the city. There was absolutely no form of PDA in the streets, but you were all cuddly in the sheets. When you were out together, it was almost as if you two didn’t know each other. There was no hand holding, there was no kissing, no hugging. There was barely any touching. But as soon as you got home from your outings, Kirishima was tackling you with all the love he had kept inside him. And even though you were to be kept a secret, everyone knew that Kirishima was taken.

“Oi, Kirishima! Let’s go drinking after patrol!” Denki would call out, inviting his friend to catch up after being ghosted. Denki, Sero, Mina and Bakugou were all gathered at the entrance of the Hero Agency Building, waiting for Kirishima to catch up with them.

“Sorry! My girl is cooking dinner tonight!” Kirishima apologized and his friends couldn’t get another word in before he was off running in the distance to get home to you. His friends looked at each other bewildered.

“Did he just say ‘my girl’?” Mina was too much in shock.

“Maybe it’s his mom,” Denki suggested. That just earned him a smack in the back of the head.

“And why wouldn’t he say ‘mom’ instead of ‘his girl’?” Mina tried to knock some sense into him.

“People have their preferences,” Denki tried to defend himself. But Mina just couldn’t believe that she was still friends with someone this stupid. Sero and Denki continued on about how it must be nice to be in a relationship. Bakugou gruffed and watched his friend disappear into the distance.

“Shitty hair has a woman now, huh?” Bakugou talked to himself. He kept that note in the back of his head and walked caught up with the friend group.

Kirishima loves making it known that he is taken and in love. My girl this, my girl that. If it had anything related to you, he would be boasting about you for hours.

“Nice tie! Where did you get it?”

“My girl bought it for me.”

“What you doing this weekend?”

“It’s my girl’s birthday. I’m taking her on a surprise trip.”

“Oi, who you buying flowers for?”

“My girlfriend. She’s been feeling a little down. Hope this cheers her up.”

And when the sacred question is asked of who his beloved girlfriend is, Kirishima would never tell. No one has to know that you were his. But he did make it a point to make sure that you knew who you belonged to behind closed doors.

-------------------------------------------------------

Kirishima knew he was doing a good job when you screamed his name with every thrust of his hips. Hands clutching the sheets, toes curled in delight, mouth agape with drool coming out the side. Kirishima couldn’t think of a better sight. He was for sure. But it took you quite a while to get used to his size. Your first time was so inexperienced but so special.

Given that your boyfriend was a bigger guy, you were expecting him to be big. God, he was much, much bigger than you were anticipating. The length, the girth. You weren’t sure how he was going to fit, especially with him being your first time. But Kirishima made sure to prep you real well. He knew this was going to be a challenge for you. You were anything but dry down there. And even though you felt so fucking good and so horny, you weren’t sure if his cock really could fit. Sure, his fingers were long and thick already, but his fingers can’t compare to his size. Kirishima lined himself up with your entrance, ready to enter you, but you grabbed onto his forearms and squeezed tightly.

“Ei, wait!” you shouted for him to stop. Kirishima didn’t move another inch. He listened and waited patiently for you, regardless how badly his cock ached to be inside. You looked up at him with pleading and clouded eyes, your heart racing at the speed of light. “What if it doesn't fit?” you questioned. Kirishima cupped your face and placed a chaste kiss on your lips.

“We’ll go slow, baby. You want it, don’t you?” he whispered in your ear. You bit your lip and eagerly nodded your head. Kirishima took his time placed small, wet kisses down the side of your face all the way down your neck.

“Let me hear you say it. You want it, don’t you?” he asked again, his voice a little rougher this time. He teased your arousal by rubbing the tip of his red, aching cock just at the entrance, so you could feel how eager he was. You gasped even louder when now all you could feel was his long length rubbing against you.

“Ah~! Fuck! Yes! Yes, I want you so bad!” you begged. Kirishima smirked in the crook of your neck and slowly, painfully and agonizingly slow, entered you.

The rest was history.

Your first time was definitely new and scary. You never thought pain could hurt so good, and it only made you crave it even more. And when you experienced an orgasm for the first time… it had you seeing stars. The moment was so short. You just wanted to feel that again and again and again. But everything had to move slowly. The first few months were both of your trying different things, seeing what you both liked and didn’t like in bed. And in the beginning, you were so shy. You thought it was embarrassing that you were so horny all the time, not knowing that that feeling is normal. So you never asked for it directly. You waited until the mood was right and romantic, or when he was making the move.

Little did you know, Kirishima loved it when you gave subtle hints to show him that you were in the mood. It let him know that you were equally as horny and bothered as he was. But he loved it even more to see you being more comfortable and confident in your own body. So of course, he has to please his pretty princess because you deserve everything in the world. He will drop everything and anything to come devour your pussy or feel you clench around him. Kirishima even left in the middle of patrol when he got your needy text one time.

No matter how many times you ask for it, or how long you want it, Kirishima obliges without question. But you came to a realization that you never got the chance to please him in return. So when Kirishima has your legs wrapped around his waist, pinned against the door and smashing his lips against yours, that’s when you decided it was time.

The Pro-Hero’s hands were anything but polite, roaming every inch of your body, no corner left untouched. You were his, all his, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted more of you, if that was even possible. He goes to kiss your neck and chest, leaving red marks here and there.

“Fuuuck, I wanna taste you so bad,” he groans, pushing you down on his erection, all the while thrusting his hips up to meet you in the middle. That shot an electric shock right to your pussy, making you crave him even more. You threw your head back against the door, gripping onto locks of his crimson, red hair.

“Gonna ride my face?” he asks. He waits for your answer, sucking on your supple skin, only imagining something else in his mouth. Your cheeks heated up as you tried to cover your face.

“Too shy…” you managed to mumble.

“You can do it, princess. You wanna cum?” he taunted you.

“Cum~...” you practically drooled at the thought. Kiri smirked. He knew your weak spot.

“Yeah?” he sweetly asks you. God, that fucking voice. “Yeah? You wanna cum on my face, princess?” you bit your lip and nodded your head like your life depended on you.

“Yes! Yes! Ei, Wanna cum~” you pleaded, rolling your hips to add some friction to your aching and sore core. He didn’t need to hear another word. He carried you from the door, back to the bedroom where he gently laid you down on the bed. Careful not to ruin the mood, Kirishima’s lips never left your body, not even for a single moment. If they did happen to detach, he was quick to find your body again but perhaps reattach at a different part of your body. Since your whole body needs loving. They deserved as much attention as your lovely lips.

So he kisses down your neck.

“Ei,” you say his name breathlessly, trying to get his attention. But it was ignored as he kisses down to the mounds of your breasts.

“Ei,” you try again, but this time louder. But he was so distracted and you felt so good that maybe your voice got caught in your throat.

“Eiji!” you try yet again when he got to your stomach. But to no avail.

“Eijirou!” you finally got his attention. You looked down, eyes clouded with lust. He’s right above your sweet spot, ready to pull your shorts off but now his face is not hungry for you. Instead, he became worried because you never say his full name during sex.

“(y/n), what’s wrong?” he asks. Your cheeks heat up once again, embarrassed that you might have ruined the mood.

“Uhm,” you start out but you weren’t exactly sure how you wanted to phrase that you wanted to suck his dick this time. Kirishima could see the hesitation in your eyes. He removed himself from your bottom half and climbed on top of you, but careful not to lay on you.

“Sorry, was I too much? Are you uncomfortable? Should I stop?” he asks, scared that he said or did something that you weren’t a fan of. But actually, it was quite the opposite.

“I think I just want to do something else,” you whispered.

“Okay! Yeah, we can do that babe. What do you want to do?” he asks. You bit your lip and prepared yourself. Kirishima waited patiently for you to decide. No matter how badly you wanted to say it, something in you, was it the embarrassment? You weren’t sure. But something inside of you is preventing you from saying your thoughts aloud. Maybe actions will speak louder than words. You let your hand do the talking. You moved your hand to the waistband of his shorts and pulled on them. He looked down at where you were grabbing and he thinks he got the hint.

“You want to just have regular sex, baby?” he questions. No, no, that’s not what you wanted. You shook your head and continued to pull on his waistband. Kirishima was becoming confused. It’s not like he could read your mind. If he had that quirk, that would be so much easier to know what you wanted from him in this moment. You gave him one last puppy dog look and a sudden thought came to him.

“Don’t tell me…” he trails off. There was no way. His pretty, innocent girlfriend wants to do something so dirty as to suck his cock? “... you want to suck it?” Given your reaction, he hit it right on the money.

“Why did you say it like that?” you became even more embarrassed than you already were, fully covering your heated face. Kirishima laughed a hearty laugh, trying to uncover your face.

“I was just so surprised! Baby! There’s nothing to be embarrassed about!” He encouraged you. He took your arms and pinned them behind your head.

“Now then,” his voice went back to its sultry form. “Princess wants to suck my cock, hm?”

“Yes, please,” you whispered. Kirishima grabbed your waist and flipped the both of you around so that he was laying down on the bed and you were on top of him. His shirt was long gone and was already in the process of pulling down his shorts and underwear. His cock sprang free from the elastic shorts, hitting his lower stomach in the process.

Kirishima never had a hard time getting an erection. In fact, it was a little too easy for him. Anything you do, it could be from basic chores around the house or when you were purposely trying to seduce him, he would get hard. Even from the slightest touch from you. It’s not like you never wanted to give him a blowjob. But because he never had a hard time getting it up, he would only focus on making sure you were getting all the pleasure. So this was your first time seeing his cock so close up.

It smelled like him, maybe a little mustier with a mix of sweat and cologne. His length was impressive as always and when you wrapped your hand around his warm cock, you found out that you could barely touch your fingers together. He was darker than you were expecting, the tip being a bright red and precum dripping all the way down his length. It looked like it wanted to be cleaned up. So you stuck your tongue out, licking the salty liquid from the base up. The softness of your tongue making contact with him made Kirishima let out a loud moan, getting more comfortable in the sheets.

“Fuck,” he breathed out. Your pussy already does wonders for him, but seeing your innocent mouth wrap around his dirty cock was a wonderfully different feeling. You tried to fit as much of him as you could, but his length wouldn’t allow you to swallow him whole. With the remaining length, you wrapped your hand around it while you tried your best at giving him a blowjob. You didn’t know what the hell you were doing. All you saw from those porn videos was that they could fit the biggest dicks in their mouth with no problem. But you couldn’t. Were you doing something wrong? So you tried again, going down and fitting as much of his cock as you could in your mouth, but with the tip hitting the back of your throat and you basically gagging, you felt discouraged.

“I can’t do it,” you whined, releasing him from your mouth to get some air. All the while, spit and drool was still connected from your mouth to his dick. Kirishima barely managed to open his eyes, feeling so much ecstasy but he needed to get his mind together for you.

“Can’t do what, baby?” he asks.

“I can’t deepthroat,” you said with a pout, almost in tears. How were you going to make him feel good if you couldn’t even deepthroat?

“You don’t have to do that, babe,” Kirishima tried letting you know. But you got confused. What does he mean that you didn’t have to?

“But, isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?” you asked. Kirishima let out a low chuckle and flashed you a reassuring smile.

“(y/n), what you’re doing now is perfect,” he said, grabbing your arm and motioned for you to come up.

“Are you sure? You want me to keep going?” you kept asking, feeling doubtful. You moved up to come face to face with your boyfriend and he cupped your face, giving you encouraging kisses.

“Can’t you see my cock pulsing right now. I very much want your mouth on me,” he whispered those dirty words in your ear. You looked down. And it was true. His cock was standing proudly, twitching, aching for you to touch him again.

So you continue sucking him off, bobbing your head up and down slowly. Kirishima closed his eyes again, the feeling of your wet mouth was getting him overwhelmed. Every time you went a little deeper or your tongue would brush past a vein or when you would moan and the vibrations added even more sensation, he would moan and groan even louder in response.You were doing a good job, great even. He didn’t want to scare you into anything since this was your first time doing something like this. He was trying so hard, using the tiniest ounce of respect he had left, to not push your head down on his cock. He wanted to pull your hair back, having his fists full of your hair and thrust into your mouth while you’re sucking him off. That would scare you off though. Kirishima had to opt to gripping the headboard behind him, trying so, so hard not to make any harsh movements.

Fuck, you were going at such a good pace, too that it was so hard for him. It was hard to resist you, even when he was watching your pretty lips suck his large cock, sucking him just like a lollipop. You must have known his tip was sensitive, because you loved to tease him at just the tip. Teasing and messing around with the angry, red tip with your tongue and then swallowing him whole again. It made Kirishima breathless each time. He wanted you to go at your own pace, to take your time and do what you think feels best, but god, he didn’t know how long he could take such agony. All he could do was watch you suck him off, moan and groan your name with passion. He was holding back so much, he was damn near close to tears.

“Am I doing okay?” you came up for air and wanted to check on your progress.

“Yes! Fuck! Yes!” Kirishima exclaimed with a strained voice, a little too enthusiastically and urges you back down on his cock. “Come on, keep sucking my cock, just like that.” You were only worried because he was making such strange noises that he’s never made before and you thought that maybe you weren’t doing a good job. But the little surprise in your mouth made you think differently.

Sex became a regular thing for you. As it should be. You guys were a couple! It was normal and healthy for couples to have sex frequently. There were times when you had spontaneous sex. Like at the time after the gym. It was your first time going together as a couple. Now you wouldn’t consider yourself a gym girl or even liked working out, but Kirishima was a gym rat. If he wasn’t with you or at the agency, he was at the gym. He had to if he wanted to keep up that gorgeous physique of his. Regardless, he loved the gym. And you wanted to experience something that he loved, even if it was just once. When you told him that you wanted to join him on one of his sessions, he was over the moon.

You were standing in the living room, shyly wearing the workout outfit you had just bought. You had on tight leggings that accentuated all the curves of your ass and a crop top that wasn’t as tight, actually loosely fitted. But if you put your arms above your head, your sports bra would for sure show. Kirishima’s mouth hung open and the gym bag that was hung over his shoulders was now on the floor.

“You wanna come with me to the gym?” he asked, making sure that he wasn’t just imagining things.

“Is that okay?” you asked.

“More than okay!” he said happily.

“And is this outfit appropriate? Do girls wear this?” you were concerned, looking down at what you were wearing.

“Even if it wasn’t, I’d punch anybody who says differently,” he reassured you.

And so, your boyfriend showed you around the gym. Everything was so overwhelming, you didn’t know where to start. There was a whole room for just cardio related stuff. And then there was the weight room where Kirishima spends all his time.

“You can go upstairs and do cardio if the weight room is too intimidating for you,” he told you. You looked past him at the guys lifting the heavy weights. There weren’t many people in the gym at this time. But to the people who were here, they were all so buff. They all looked like they knew what they were doing. And it was intimidating as fuck. But you didn’t want to be separated from him.

“I can just follow you,” you decided. Kirishima gave you a smile.

“It is your first time. You can just follow my routine. We’ll just use little to no weights, okay babe?” you nodded and silently followed him into the weight room.

Kirishima didn’t realize what he was getting himself into when bringing you to the gym. He thought it was going to be a fun time, sharing a hobby that he loved with you. It was supposed to be a bonding experience together. Not a horny experience.

You really meant no harm. But Kirishima was losing his patience every time you were bending down in front of him. Sure, he was looking down at your ass every now and then, because those leggings were doing wonders for you. But damn. It’s like you were doing this on purpose, to make him all hot and bothered and needy. He wasn’t able to focus on his workout because all he was paying attention to was your body. His eyes became dark when it was your turn to lift the weights.

Kirishima waited from behind as you grabbed the smallest weights and got into position. But Kiri let out a shaky breath and stared at your ass when you bent down to pick up those weights. And when you arched your back, it was like you wanted him to take you right there and then. Like you were inviting him to rip those poor leggings open and devour you in front of all these people. Thank god he was wearing compression shorts because everyone, including you, could see what you were doing to him. As soon as you got home, Kirishima wasted no time in stripping you naked and got to business.

Though, the spontaneous sex was fun, you would always love the romantic sex. There was always so much passion and so much love. Like when Kiri came home from work, super exhausted and dirty from a villain fight. Thankfully, he didn’t have too many scratches or wounds, but all he wanted when he got home was to just be by your side. You knew Kirishima loved this job. But you couldn’t help but gasp every time he walked through those doors.

“Ei, baby! You okay?” you immediately cradled him in your arms, his head resting on your shoulders. His body was black with dirt and he wasn’t his usual cheerful self. This fight must have really gotten to him.

“Did you win, my love?” you patted his back tenderly, trying to lighten the mood. That got you a chuckle.

“Always,” he responded. You smiled.

“Let me run a bath for you,” you whisper and Kirishima released you.

Intimate moments like this are what you loved the moment. Kirishima sitting in the tub, too exhausted to clean himself, so you offered. You cleaned and washed his hair, getting off all the gel in his hair so that it was now at its natural state. You scrubbed the dirt and grime off his body, but not too harshly in case there were other wounds you couldn’t see. And Kirishima laid in the warm water, back against the tub and arms out to the side, relaxed at your gentle touch.

“Thank you, (y/n),” Kiri genuinely thanked you. You hugged his neck from behind and kissed him on the cheek.

“It’s the least I can do, baby. Your job is tough enough as it is, let me take care of you,” you said, sweetly. Your pampering wasn’t done when he was squeaky clean. Since he was sitting in hot water and his muscles were relaxed, you surprised him with a massage, starting with his shoulders. Kiri leaned even more into you, if that was even possible. You worked his shoulders, down his arms and to his chest. You happened to take a quick glance and it looks like someone is hard. You smirked, kissing his cheek. Then down his neck. Kiri moved his head so you could get better access. You continued to kiss down, sliding your hands down his chest, then to his abs and finally, to the place where he needs the most release.

You gripped his cock in your hands, ever so slowly moving your hand up and down. You were in no rush, taking your time feeling his cock get even harder in your hand. Kirishima groaned and tried rutting his hips into your hands, but you let go.

“Fuck, why’d you let go,” he groaned in his husky voice.

“Like I said, let me take care of you,” you kissed his cheek. When you knew that he wouldn’t try another trick again, you got back to it. Slowly jerking him off, allowing the feeling in the pit of his stomach build in an agonizingly slow pace. It wasn’t helping Kiri either that the combination of your hand and your kisses were driving him insane. It was too slow and Kirishima was too impatient. He grabbed your arm and pulled you into the tub with him. You screamed at the sudden action and before you realized it, you were straddling him in the tub.

“Eijirou!” You screamed at him. He only gave you a cheeky look. “Look what you did! I’m all wet now!” you complained.

“Looks like we have to get these clothes off ya now,” his eyes turn lustful.

“You are so bad!” you say as he leans in and captures your lips in a deep, passionate kiss.

“Take your shirt off,” he demands, momentarily breaking your kiss. You don’t question him and slide your shirt off over your head. Kirishima repositions you so that you were more comfortable, but that means you were sitting right on his hard on, his tip teasing your aroused entrance. Kirishima may have ruined your romantic gesture, but he made up with it with equally romantic sex … and maybe giving you one of the hardest orgasms you’ve ever had.

Kirishima’s group of friends, for years, does not have a face or even know a name to said girlfriend. They couldn’t understand why it was such a secret. He was always talking about his girlfriend, he would have certainly slipped your name by accident by now. But his lips were sealed. Everyone thought he was lying. But there were times when he would come to work in new hickories or scratches that were very visible given his hero costume. So they, really Mina, took it upon themselves to figure out who Kirishima’s girlfriend was.

It was after work, and these tall, buff, very noticeable heroes were sneaking around town, trying not to get caught. They climbed the building next to Kirishima’s apartment, all the way to the rooftop. Unfortunately, none of their quirks had the ability to have superhuman vision, so they had to go the old fashioned route: binoculars.

“This is fucking stupid,” Bakugou complained, crossing his arms together and actually looking away while the rest of the squad was huddled together. He didn’t know why he came along, but he couldn’t care less about who his friend was dating.

“Come on! You’re telling me you're not a little bit curious on who Kirishima’s dating?” Denki asked.

“Not really,” Bakugou huffed. But the other three were too curious that they resorted to this kind of method to find out.

“Which one is his apartment again?” Mina asked, searching up and down the apartment, looking through all the rooms before finally finding the right one. “Eek! Found him!” Mina exclaimed and that really got the boys' attention, including Bakugou’s. Sero and Denki pressed against Mina, begging her to let them have one look. They only got lucky finding Kirishima because he just so happened to be doing dishes, which were right in front of the window.

“Do you see his girlfriend?” Denki asked.

“What’s he doing?” Sero butt in.

“No. He’s just doing dishes,” Mina said disappointedly and passed the binoculars on to someone else. As both Sero and Denki took turns, it was true. They were disappointed to see no girl anywhere.

“Maybe his girlfriend doesn’t live with him,” Sero pointed out.

“Why didn’t we think of that?” Mina face palmed her forehead.

“I did. You just didn’t want to listen to me,” Bakugou retorted.

“Oi, Bakugou. Want to have a look?” Denki passed him the binoculars.

“And be a stalker? No thanks,” Bakugou declined.

“Come on. You’re already here. Can’t hurt to take one look,” Denki tempted him. Bakugou rolled his eyes and forcefully took the binoculars out of his hands and took a look. He expected to see his fiery red haired friend to do dishes and that was that. But then he saw a familiar looking face come up behind his friend to give him a hug while he was finishing up dishes. Bakugou straightened up and focused in more closely. And the more he paid attention, the more he knew he was right. There was no denying who his girlfriend was. You and Kiri were both laughing, splashing water on each other, looking so happy together. Bakugou clenched the binoculars at the sight. He couldn’t look any longer. He harshly handed Denki the binoculars back and headed for the door.

“I’m leaving,” he said harshly. When Bakugou pushed past Mina, she could see that he was… heartbroken? Mina quickly took the binoculars back and had a look for herself. And when she saw what Bakugou had seen, she tried to reach out for him.

“Wait, Bakugou!” Mina called out. But it was too late. He was already gone.

Sounds of skin slapping and muffled whimpering were echoing all throughout your apartment one morning. Kirishima had you on your stomach, ass in the air, fucking you mercifully from behind as you tried to muffle your noises using a pillow. You were embarrassed on how much you were moaning so you tried not to be too loud. But Kiri didn’t like when you did that. He grabbed a fistful of hair from the base and lifted you up.

“Let me hear that pretty voice,” he demanded in your ear.

“Ei~ji~rou~,” you called out, a strained moan came out with every hard thrust.

“That’s it, baby. Come on. You want to cum again?” Kiri bribed you. Hearts shot through your eyes and drool escaping the side of your mouth.

“Yes!Yes!Yes!Yes!” you chimed, already feeling that magical feeling coursing through your lower region. Thinking that he was going to let you cum again had you so excited that you didn't know what to do. You wanted to hold onto him, any part of him and hold him close as you came, but he was behind you and you couldn’t grab onto him at all. All you had to grip in your hands was the sheets below you.

“Keep saying my name,” Kiri demanded, not slowing down his pace at all. He rested his hands on your ass, giving it a good squeeze and a smack for good luck. He slid his cock in and out of your slick folds, fully pulling out and slamming back into you again. He knew just how you liked it, passionate with a bit of roughness to him. And that move got you seeing stars every time.

“Eijirou~!” you repeated his name over and over again.

“Fuck, (y/n), I’m so close,” he said, closing his eyes and fucked you even faster, trying to reach his own climax.

“Yes, cum in me. Cum in me please,” you begged. He was hitting all the right spots, especially your sweet spot. Where he hit every damn time.

“You’d like that, huh? You want my cum in your pretty pussy? Wanna see it leak out, huh naughty girl?” Kiri clenched his teeth as he said all those dirty things to you. Fuck, he could feel himself about to burst, he was so, so close. Just a little bit more and…

Ding dong.

You both froze. Fuck, you were being so loud and someone just had to ring the doorbell? You were sure they heard you. You ducked your head back into the pillows, embarrassed. But Kirishima was so close to cumming, he continued thrusting in you.

“Eiji, you’re not going to get that?” you asked, completely out of the zone of sex.

“(y/n), I’m so close. Let me fuck ya until I’m done, yeah?” he tried convincing you. Truthfully, that sudden intrusion took him out a bit, but now he was getting back into the zone and felt himself getting close again.

“But, it could be my Amazon order,” you said, still feeling amazing from his gifted package but also bringing it back to reality.

“They can wait,” Kirishima ignored the doorbell.

Ding dong.

It rang again.

“Babe, go get the door,” you insisted, reaching behind you and patting his arm. And then, it was like he had pissed off the sex gods and they were punshing him by not cuming. The doorbell rang and rang and rang. It was a consistent ringing, like the person at the door wouldn’t let up until someone opened the door.

“Shit!” Kirishima cursed, finally pulling out of you. You know you had told him to answer the door, but you were still feeling empty without him inside you. You flipped over and Kirishima captured your lips in a deep kiss.

“You’re fucking getting it later,” he promised when he let go. You giggled and pecked all over his face.

“Thank you,” you sang and Kiri waved you off, putting on a pair of sweats and beelined for the door.

Kirishima roughly opened the door in annoyance, his sweaty and glistening chest heaving up and down from his previous activity. He glared at the person who wouldn’t shut up and ruined his orgasm. But then was surprised to see a spiky blonde hero at the door with his signature smug look and not a delivery man.

“Bakugou?” Kirishima questioned. “What are you doing here?”

“You’re not going to let me in?” Bakugou questioned back, trying to step in the apartment but Kirishima blocked him.

“Sorry. My girl is over,” Kirishima refused entry.

“Eiji, was that my package?” you called from the bedroom, wondering why it was taking him such a long time. Kirishima knew that his friend could hear your voice clearly. And he knew that Bakugou knew something was up by the look he gave him. Kirishima started to panic, trying to think of something to say or give some type of excuse. But before he knew it, you came into view wearing Kirishima’s oversized shirt.

“Honey, what is taking so-” you ruffled your hair. And then you froze. Oh, you screwed up. Who you were expecting at the door was supposed to be some delivery man or even a random stranger, not your ex from high school. Kirishima had a panic look on his face while Bakugou looked like he was going to explode. You couldn’t even run away anymore. Your secret was exposed.

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